#i think i’ve drawn him more than any other character in any media

[crowbasils]

BASIL doodles ‼️‼️

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 1

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

Warnings:  18+ Smut. Dark!Rafe. Virgin!Reader, Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering, squirting.  Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 9k words (Yo it took me months to write but I finally did it) 

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So this is an original idea I’ve had for a while now... and this is the longest fanfic I’ve ever written for a character. Who did I write this tale about Rafe motherfucking Cameron of course. HA!  I may do a part 2 but we’ll see based on the response it gets.  Love you all and thanks for reading and listening - there’s music in there too so if you can listen to the tracks as you read it’ll heighten the experience. 🫶 Enjoy!

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.  

Rose, elegant and poised as ever, fiddled with Ward's bowtie. It was a futile attempt to straighten it, and you wondered if the Kooks knew how ridiculous they looked, their privileged lives spent fussing over trivial things.

"Do you play?" Ward's voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of interest. He had seen you eyeing the piano in their opulent living room before, and it was clear he suspected you had a musical inclination.

"A little," you replied, shrugging nonchalantly. You didn't want to give too much away. The Kooks had a tendency to pry, and you had learned the hard way that it was better to keep your guard up.

The Camerons were pleasant enough, but like the other Kooks on Figure Eight, they didn't really care about the Pogues. You had grown up being told that Pogues were different from Kooks, but as you got older, you realized it was more complicated than that. The Kooks were narrow-minded, lacking empathy and understanding. They saw the Pogues as nothing more than servants, there to cater to their every whim. It was a toxic dynamic and one that you had learned to navigate with caution.

The key to survival on the Outer Banks was invisibility. You had learned that early on. The less you revealed about yourself, the safer you were. So you didn't tell Ward that your father had started teaching you piano before you could even walk. You didn't tell him that music was your escape, your solace, your everything.

"Well, a bit of something is better than nothing," Ward chuckled, his eyes flickering back to you. "I bought it thinking it would be nice to have music in the house that wasn't rap or pop, but you know how kids are." He chuckled again. "No one seems interested in learning how to play it. If you want to try it out, our door is always open."

The Kooks were the quintessential chameleons, expertly donning the cloak of benevolence and charity. But behind the facade lay their self-centered motives, concealed in plain sight. In their company, you had to be just as duplicitous as them, your true self lost in a sea of artifice. So you donned your own mask of deceit, feigning a grin while burying your true feelings behind a veneer of politeness.

As the grandfather clock in the hallway struck six, Rose and Mr. Cameron stepped into the warm North Carolina evening, dressed to the nines for their elegant black-tie affair. You were left behind in the kitchen with Wheezie, chatting aimlessly about everything and nothing. A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Want to watch a movie, Wheezie?" you asked, but you already knew the answer.

"Maybe next time? I'm having a Stranger Things watch party with my friends. We're on season three, actually," she replied as she pulled out her phone and began texting.

"Oh, that's cool. Sure, let me know when you're hungry and we'll order in."

A few minutes later, you were left alone in the kitchen, grappling with the void of the next five hours stretching before you. Your gaze was inexorably drawn to the open double doors of the living room, and a force beyond your control tugged at your heartstrings.

There, in the corner of the Camerons' living room, stood a magnificent black Steinway & Sons piano. A work of art that you had only seen in fleeting glimpses on the internet, played by virtuosos with mastery beyond compare.

The Camerons' piano was an exquisite piece. Valued upwards of forty thousand dollars, it was a show-stopper that begged to be played in a prestigious concert hall. And yet there it sat in their living room, untouched and unloved.

With a fluttering heart, you approached the baby grand piano, drawn by an unconscious force beyond your control. As you lifted the fallboard, a heady scent of wax and mahogany wafted into your nostrils, creating a longing you could barely contain. Your fingertips brushed against the smooth, pristine ivory keys, unable to resist the urge to touch. As you pressed down on one, a crystalline note filled the air, flawless and true. Before you could even think, you were seated on the bench.

Back straight and feet planted firmly on the floor, you thought about all the classical pieces you had practiced over the years and loved to play. How each piece would sound hollow on your cheap, antiquated piano in your small family home. Music was your first love, and you longed for the day to play on stage accompanied by the New York Symphony Orchestra.

Closing your eyes, you allowed your mind to wander, imagining a sea of faces, a packed audience hanging on your every note. In your mind's eye, you saw your dad sitting in the front row, his gaze filled with pride and love. The thought of his reaction, a validation of all his sacrifices over the years, filled you with purpose.

Driven by your distant dream, you let your fingers glide across the keys, effortlessly weaving a tapestry of sound that flooded the Camerons' living room with music.

With meticulous attention, you listened closely to the dynamics of the piece. You noticed the way the Steinway amplified the subtlest variations in volume, imbuing the composition with a melancholic mood. Your fingers moved with practiced ease, executing intricate runs and arpeggios with fluid grace.

Enraptured by the music, you let the notes wash over you. Every facial expression was a reflection of the emotional journey unfolding before you. As the piece reached its crescendo, your fingers moved faster, striking the keys with greater force, a physical manifestation of your emotions. Your hands flowed in flawless harmony with the rhythm, pouring your soul into the music. And with the final notes, you laughed breathlessly, basking in the afterglow of your musical outpouring.

But your blissful moment was cruelly interrupted as you suddenly sensed you weren’t alone. Your eyes snapped open, and a cold wave of fear washed over you.

“Shit! I am so sorry,” you stammered, your voice trailing off in a rush of apologies as you gingerly lowered the piano fallboard.

“You know,” Rafe’s words were laced with honey, each syllable slow and sweet, yet there was no mistaking the menacing undertone to them. “We don’t take kindly to people touching our things,” he drawled, his intense gaze locked onto yours, a warning glimmer lurking within his dark eyes.

“I… I had permission from your dad,” you insisted, your words barely audible above a whisper as you tried to defend your actions.

His response was a dismissive chuckle. The atmosphere was taut with tension as he nonchalantly propped his golf bag against the wall. Leisurely slow, he sauntered over to you, his hands casually tucked away in his pockets.

“What were you playing anyway?” he inquired, his tone deceptively relaxed.

“You mean the name of the piece?” you swallowed hard, fear palpable. “It’s called Nocturne in C-sharp Minor.”

The tall blonde squinted at you, and you could not decipher his expression. Wanting to avoid further irritation, you slowly rose from the piano bench and dusted it off.

“What kinda name is that?”

“I… I…” you stammered, blood surging in your ears from fear as Rafe suddenly leaned in and lifted the fallboard. He scanned the keys, perhaps checking for any scratches. You took a deep breath. The scent of his expensive cologne and freshly mown grass overwhelmed your senses.

“I don’t know. It worked for Chopin, I guess.” You said quietly.

“Chopin…” he said with his lip jutted.

“He’s the composer. He wrote it and-”

“I know Chopin,” Rafe interrupted, his eyes suddenly locked on you. Up close, you could not deny that they were a striking shade of blue, if not for the death glare he gave you. “Chopin, Beethoven, Einaudi, Bach…” He backed away and sat in a nearby chair. “Brahms… I’ve been to enough of those long-ass concerts to at least know their names.”

You felt a confusing mix of awe and jealousy as you listened to Rafe’s words. The pit in your stomach proved this. You had never been to a proper symphony concert, and the school concerts you had attended were barely amateur. The thought of your dad’s broken promise to take you to one was a constant source of frustration. However, Rafe’s casual disdain for the very concerts he was lucky enough to attend seemed to be a new addition.

“Well… I’m not getting paid to mess around on your piano,” you said with a wry smile, as you tried to mask your emotions.

“You’re right. You’re not,” Rafe retorted while he twisted the gold signet ring around his index finger with his thumb. Head tilted to the side, his eyes raked over every inch of you, from your hair, your oversized sweatshirt and jeans to your worn knockoff Converses. You felt self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. He made you want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“I… I should check on Wheezie,” you whispered, eager to escape the tension in the room.

“Why?” Rafe asked, halting his twirling of the signet ring. His face appeared bemused until a sly grin tugged at his lips. “Weeze is a big girl, right? Might as well… play Chopin while she’s doing her own thing…”

As you babysat for the Camerons, you occasionally spotted Rafe in the vicinity. Sometimes, he was accompanied by a striking beauty, while other times he hung out with his friends. Even when he was alone, his body language was a clear warning: "Keep your distance." His piercing gaze made you feel diminutive and unimportant, as if any attempts at interaction would be met with cold indifference. In his presence, you felt like you were navigating hostile terrain, just a misstep away from a precarious situation.

"Well?" he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his lower lip with a finger. The gesture seemed to carry a message, but what message you weren't sure. What was certain was that his expression of amusement made it evident that the outcome was secondary—he was simply enjoying watching you squirm.

Your tongue darted out to moisten your parched lips, while anxiety twisted in your gut as you stared nervously at the grand Steinway piano and Rafe. The weight of his words lingered in the air, causing you to hesitate and consider the potential consequences of your answer.

Every which way you looked at it, you were fucked.

Rafe was bound to tell his parents, and you were sure enough about to lose your job once they found out. Despite Mr. Cameron's outward kindness and willingness to accommodate, you knew very well that playing their piano without supervision was not within the bounds of your permission. And he certainly would not appreciate you lying about it either.

Still, you were determined to make the most out of a shitty situation. You weren't trying to prove anything to Rafe, but if this was going to be your last time playing a Steinway, you would go out in style.

You had chosen a haunting, evocative melody,  a tale of lost love and longing. The notes rang out, clear and true, as your fingers danced over the keys. 

Closing your eyes and shutting out the world and Rafe, you allowed the music to flow from your fingertips, guided by instinct and emotion. Your touch was delicate yet confident, breathing life into the haunting melody.

After the last notes of the piece hung in the air like a delicate mist. You held your breath, waiting for some kind of response from Rafe, but all you got was a deafening silence. The room felt like it was closing in on you, and you couldn't help but cast a quick glance in his direction.

Rafe's eyes bored into yours with an intensity that made your heart stop. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. When you finally lowered the fallboard, the tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

"I should check on Wheezie," you whispered, breaking the silence.

Rafe made no reply, and you took that as permission to leave. When you returned downstairs a half hour later, Rafe was nowhere to be seen and you sighed in relief.

In the best-case scenario, Rafe would keep your little transgression to himself. In the worst-case scenario, you could explain to Mr. Cameron that curiosity got the better of you and seek his forgiveness. Either way, you vowed never to touch their piano again.

"What's on your setlist today, piano girl?" Rafe's voice caused your heart to skip a beat, and you nearly spewed out the orange juice pooling in your mouth. A mere week had passed since your previous babysitting job at the illustrious Cameron residence. Yet here you were once again, feeling a pang of anxiety at the mere sight of him. You had desperately hoped to avoid any interaction with Rafe for the remainder of your shift, but fate had other plans in store.

There he was, sauntering into the kitchen, sporting an obnoxiously bright salmon polo shirt that clashed horribly with his teal shorts, and finished with a backwards baseball cap. Despite his frat boy appearance, you couldn't help but admit that he looked undeniably handsome. The realization hit you like a brick and left you feeling inexplicably uneasy.

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Rafe's gaze shifted towards the living room, where the Steinway was waiting behind closed doors.

"No, I don't think it's a good idea," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched Rafe roll his eyes.

"Whatever," he drawled with a dismissive flick of his wrist, exuding an air of nonchalant superiority as he strode out of the kitchen.

You parroted his words under your breath, feeling frustration boil inside you. Despite his insufferable demeanor, you chose to let it slide. After all, you needed this job, and with a week of smooth sailing under your belt, you suspected that Rafe had kept your little piano incident under wraps. You weren't about to jeopardize your livelihood over a petty disagreement with Rafe Cameron of all people.

Just as you were considering taking refuge in the kitchen to avoid Rafe, the sound of a key being struck on the Steinway echoed through the kitchen, beckoning you towards it.

You stepped into the living room, a bundle of nerves and anticipation, only to find Rafe sprawled in the same chair as before. The piano's fallboard was already raised. Its ebony and ivory keys gleamed in the warm light of the setting sun. Rafe's piercing gaze locked onto yours, then flicked towards the piano.

"Do you want me to play something?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe shrugged, looking uninterested. "Do you want to?" he asked, his voice dripping with boredom.

"I don't mind, I guess," you replied, chewing your bottom lip.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were desperate for another chance to play the Steinway. There was a piece that you couldn't get out of your head, and you knew it would sound magnificent on it. You did not need to be asked twice. But at the same time, you were no fool.

You had heard whispers about the "Kook King." Infamous for settling disputes with his fists, not for acts of kindness. You had no idea what was taking place here or why Rafe was suddenly allowing you to play the Camerons' prized possession. But despite your internal warning bells that this could be a trap, you put your glass of orange juice on the floor next to the bench. Consequences be damned.

Taking a confident breath, you aimed to kill.

As you hit the final notes of the composition, the silence was shattered by Rafe's ragged breaths. Your eyes locked onto his, and you saw a flicker of something in his gaze that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"I've been working on that one for a while," you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite his stare. "I know it's not perfect, but I-"

"No, it's good," Rafe interjected with a croak. "You're good."

His words validated your talent, and a rush of excitement surged through you, causing a grin to spread across your face as you basked in his praise. But the moment was short-lived as Rafe pulled out his phone and started scrolling, his demeanor shifting from impressed to cold indifference. Without warning, he abruptly rose from his seat, an air of superiority emanating from his towering frame.

"Tell Rose I'm having dinner at Top's," he drawled, his voice dripping with aloofness as he looked down his nose at you.

"Sure, okay," you stammered, still reeling from his sudden change in behavior.

Without another glance in your direction, he strode out of the room, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.

It became routine. A ritual. Embedded in your weekly visits to the Cameron residence.

Each time you babysat Wheezie, the air would fill with the soothing sound of classical music, as you took your place at the Steinway and brought the keys to life. Rafe, either in the background or seated nearby, listened intently. His brooding demeanor was a stark contrast to the beauty of the music.

As the weeks went by, playing the Steinway became a treasured routine, and it wasn't just the music that captivated you. With every note played, the invisible barrier between you and Rafe seemed to thin. Despite his reserved exterior, there was a subtle shift in the room when he was around, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him until one evening, a simple question from him sparked a conversation that would change everything.

"Where did you even learn to play like that?" Rafe asked as the sun cast its final rays of light into the opulent living room, painting the space with a breathtaking array of orange, pink, and purple hues.

You had just finished playing a piece by Bach. The air was still thick with the lingering notes of the Prelude as you closed the Steinway lid.

"There's barely electricity on the cut. Far less for piano classes, and even if there was, you can't—you can't teach this, know what I mean? Well, not the way you play it anyway." His tone shifted, taking on a new quality of—dare you think it?—admiration. You couldn't help but wonder if the beer he was drinking had anything to do with his slip of the tongue and the emotions that seemed to seep through in his words.

You cast your eyes to find Rafe leaning forward in his chair, said beer bottle in hand, his hair falling into his face and his eyes laser-focused on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that made you feel like you were being seen, truly seen, by him. But as much as you were flattered by his attention, something lurking in the depths of his gaze made you feel uneasy, and you weren't entirely sure why. You brushed the stray thought aside.

"My dad taught me." You said with pride in your voice. "Did you know they used to have jazz nights at the Wreck?" You turned your body towards Rafe, eager to share this piece of history. "Back then, it wasn't called the Wreck. Anyway, my dad used to play there every night from seven until midnight until the Carreras took over. Now he works on the big oil rig in Burnsville."

"Does he still play?" Rafe asked.

You hesitated for a moment, realizing you were oversharing with Rafe Cameron of all people. But something about his presence made you feel comfortable enough to continue. "No, after my mom left," you trailed off, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "He just gave up on music altogether."

Rafe looked down, his expression unreadable.

"I guess I'm trying to keep the tradition alive, in my own way. It's not jazz, but he approves." You smiled softly. "Anyway, what about you?"

Arresting blue eyes flicked up at yours, and your stomach flipped.

"What about me?" he asked, his voice low and husky, dripping with curiosity and challenge. He leaned back in his chair, the rattan creaking beneath him. He lazily ran a hand through his blonde hair, revealing his chiselled features. You weren't sure why, but the gesture felt calculated. As though it was meant to entice you. And yet you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you drank in the sight of him.

"No offense, but you don't look like the type to be into..." you waved your hand towards the piano, trying to deflect his gaze and lighten the mood.

"Yeah? What do I look like I'm into?" Rafe purred seductively, his tongue swiping his top lip. His eyes fixed on you. You didn't miss his tone. The double entendre just beneath the surface, if you were bold enough to respond to it. You were sure the alcohol running through his veins had something to do with his sudden flirty behavior. Tomorrow, he'd probably forget the whole thing. But it still didn't stop the butterflies from dancing in your stomach.

"I...I..."

"Go on, don't be shy," Rafe coaxed, his eyes dark and intense, almost daring you to take the bait.

"I don't know," you breathed out a laugh, suddenly feeling flustered and self-conscious.

"Yeah, you do." Rafe said, his tone low and teasing. "Saying I don't look like the type means you have a type in your head. So, let's hear it. What kind of man do you think I am, Y/N?"

You were certain this was not about music anymore, and you felt way out of your element. What were you supposed to say about that? You decided to keep the conversation neutral and err on the side of caution.

"Okay," you nodded as you shifted on the bench. "You look like the type to be interested in other types of music, you know like rap or hip-hop, rock— even country, anything but this."

Rafe looked away with a chuckle, a deep rumble that made your skin tingle. He nodded slowly, pondering your words.

"Does that sound bad? I know it sounds awful. I'm sorry." You cringed.

"Nah, it's pretty tame actually... innocent even..." Rafe murmured more to himself than to you. You shivered as his piercing blue gaze met yours, then slowly traveled down to your lips, neck, and every inch of your oversized t-shirt and cardigan to your jeans-covered body.

He cleared his throat, his voice low as he spoke. "And you're not wrong. Classical music was my mom's thing. She loved it." He said taking a swig of his beer.

"Oh," you breathed out, taken aback by the unexpected answer. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. Why Rafe was always so engrossed in the music each time you played. The wistful expression that crossed his face whenever he heard familiar pieces of music. It was like a window into his soul, a glimpse into a hidden part of him that he kept from the world. And just as you pieced together your thoughts, Rafe spoke, confirming your suspicions.

"We used to go to the mainland to see 'The Four Seasons' or 'Carmen' or some other shit like that. I don't know, it reminds me of her, I guess. Takes me back to happier times." Rafe shrugged, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he sipped his beer.

"I'm sorry..." you whispered.

"Nah, don't be. She was sick for a long time, and now she's... Anyway, It's all good now." Rafe replied with a forced nonchalance, a fragile façade attempting to conceal his true emotions.

"So, you listen to classical music for nostalgia..." you whispered, your voice tinged with a touch of melancholy.

“I guess you could say that,” Rafe said thoughtfully, tilting his head from side to side as he considered your words. He scrunched up his face, eyebrows drawn together as if he had tasted something bitter. “But I'm not a classical music aficionado or anything. It’s not like I’m requesting it in the club. Can you imagine that shit? Right after 21 Savage fuckin’ Mozart on blast. I’d get jumped.”

"I don’t know, you might start a trend," you smiled.

“Sounds like you want me to get jumped”

You outright laughed at that one. “Well, it depends, do you deserve it?”

“Oof” Rafe countered, clutching his chest faux wounded. “That was good.”

You shrugged with a smile, feeling an unexpected kinship with Rafe of all people. Here was this tough, brooding guy who, beneath the surface, was incredibly sentimental and even had a sense of humor. It was a sweet and surprising discovery.

"What about you? Why do you play?" He asked, his blue eyes roaming across your facial features slowly, curiously, when your laughter had died and all that was left was contented silence.

"Good question. Why do I play? Well, I guess for me... it's about the emotion," you replied, your fingers tracing the Steinway keys without pressing them. "Each note, each chord, each composition tells a story. It's like I'm a part of that story, and I get to bring it to life. You don’t need words you just… feel it.”

Rafe nodded, understanding. "I get it. You're the storyteller. The piano is your instrument channelin’ that shit.”

"Exactly!" you said, touching your nose and pointing to him with an earnest laugh.

"Exactly," Rafe repeated with a soft chuckle, his gaze fixated on you.

“Hey, how come I never see you at bonfires?” Rafe asked, a mischievous glint in his eye one sunny afternoon when Rose and Mr. Cameron went out for drinks with friends, leaving Wheezie in your care.

“Bonfires just aren’t my thing,” you replied with a shrug.

“What, no friends to hang out with?” he teased.

“I have plenty of friends!” you retorted, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.

“Friends that I’ve never seen you with,” he pressed.

 “What do you mean ‘friends I’ve never seen you with’ are you stalking me around town?” 

“Maybe I am...” he shrugged a small devious smile curled his lips. “Whatever. Well, my friends and I clearly hang out when you’re not around,” you shot back, a playful smile lighting up your face.

“Sure you do,” he drawled, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Rafe leaned forward against the piano, the sun casting a warm glow on his handsome features. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and how the muscles in his arms flexed under his t-shirt while he absentmindedly tapped his index finger on the piano lid.

“You know, there’s more to life than playing music,” Rafe said, his voice low and smooth, as he turned the words over with his tongue. His finger tapping the lid, became slower, more measured.

“Oh, I know that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I have plenty of other things going on.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like studying,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as Rafe scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m actually quite serious about my grades.”

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a good girl," Rafe chuckled. Once again, his comment caught you off guard. Although you knew he wasn't mocking you, it still felt strange that he felt the need to mention what he perceived was good girl behavior. “Seriously though, you should have some real fun too. Do some shit you probably shouldn’t do. Life’s too short to be cooped up not living it.”

You shrugged, unsure of what to say. Rafe had a point, but you weren’t sure if bonfires were the kind of fun you were looking for. Still, there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but swallow nervously. As if reading your thoughts, Rafe leaned closer.

“You know, I could show you a good time if you want.” Rafe’s voice was low and husky as he leaned in close, his minty breath fanning your cheek. While he had flirted before, this time there was a sober earnestness to his words that made your heart race. But before you could even formulate a response, the front door's slam cut through the thick tension.

Rafe straightened himself, briefly glancing towards the hallway before fixing his gaze back on you, his jaw tightly clenched in irritation. With determined strides, he purposefully walked away, the sound of his long steps resonating down the corridor, while you unintentionally caught snippets of his familiar argument with Sarah.

It seemed Sarah had developed an interest in John B, a guy you had seen around town, but Rafe vehemently disapproved due to his “pogue” status. You couldn’t fathom why he held such strong opposition, especially considering that you, too, were a Pogue. Had he conveniently forgotten? Or did he consider you an exception?

As you closed the lid of the Steinway, an inescapable curiosity filled your mind about what set your relationship with Rafe apart. Maybe he only saw you as a friend rather than a romantic interest the way Sarah felt about John B.

Reluctant to admit it to yourself, the thought pierced through, leaving you with a confusing mixture of disappointment, anger, and self-annoyance for even entertaining the idea that Rafe could ever feel that way about you.

As Rafe persisted in berating his sister, you dismissed any contemplation of what might have happened between the two of you if she had arrived just a few minutes later.

“Hello?”

“I'm in here.” Rose’s voice, sharp as a razor’s edge, resonated through the foyer of the Camerons’ residence. As you entered the kitchen, you discovered her gingerly picking up the remnants of a shattered vase from the tiled floor. You offered to help her, but she brushed you off with a dismissive gesture.

“No need, honey. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” She said, smiling unconvincingly.

Mr. Cameron burst into the room a few seconds later. His dominating presence charged the atmosphere, his eyes glinting like ice. It was only when his eyes landed on you that his demeanour changed.

“Oh, Y/N. Thanks for coming on such short notice. We’ll only need you for two hours. Sarah should be back by then.” He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” You replied. You scurried out of his path as he snatched a file and car keys from the kitchen table.

“I’ll be in the car.” He informed Rose tersely, eliciting a stiff nod from her.

Feeling Rose’s disquiet, you intervened to clear the shattered vase. “I can pick these up for you, Rose.” You said warmly.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You assured her with a nod.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her smile returning. “Wheeze is upstairs doing her homework. I’m sorry about all of this. Things are a bit crazy today.” She said, her grip on her bag and sunglasses tightening as if she were holding onto her sanity by a thread. And with that, she vanished, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the shattered pieces of the vase.

Having cleared the wreckage, you climbed the stairs to find Wheezie immersed in her studies in her room, her headphones firmly in place. You inquired if she needed anything or was okay, but she appeared blissfully unaware of the chaos that had unfolded. You marvelled at her ability to concentrate amidst the turmoil, yet you couldn’t dispel the nagging suspicion that the Camerons hid a dark secret beneath their façade of rich superiority. With a sigh, you left Wheezie to her schoolwork and descended the stairs as the sound of the living room door being opened roused your suspicions.

As you passed the living room, your heart sank at the sight of Rafe. He was sitting on his usual chair, swaying back and forth, lost in a jumble of incoherent words. His eyes were bloodshot and streaked with tears. You hurried towards him, your mind racing with worry and fear. You sat down on the floor in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

He responded with a roar that shook you to your core. The words that spilled out of Rafe’s mouth were like knives, cutting deep into your soul. He berated himself with a ferocity that was frightening, how he was a failure in his father’s eyes, how he was nothing but a disappointment. You placed a comforting hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying to offer some solace amidst his torment.

His eyes flicked to your hand, then to your face, as if seeing you for the first time. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes raw with emotions you couldn’t decipher. There was anger there, yes, but there was something else too – something deeper, more primal.

“Play something.” He suddenly demanded.

“I can- I can get someone for you. Do you want me to call your-”

“No. I don’t want that. I want you to play.” He almost sneered at you.

“Okay.” You whispered tentatively.

You made your way to the piano, your fingers trembling with anticipation. As you began to play, the haunting melody flowed from your fingertips.

As the tender notes from the piano enveloped you, the outside world ceased to exist. Within the protective cocoon of the Cameron's living room, you hoped your music might be a balm for Rafe’s pain. But this sanctuary of sound was violently shattered when an aggressive tug at your hair ripped you from your reverie.

Suddenly, Rafe was there, his fingers cruelly ensnared in your hair, exerting a force so savage it wrenched your head backward, choking off your breath and stilling the music in one brutal tug. The once harmonious room was now charged with an electrifying tension, your eyes captured and held hostage by the ferocity in his.

This was not the Rafe you knew.

The Rafe towering above you appeared utterly transformed. Unrecognizable in every way. Gone was the Rafe who had shared countless evenings filled with laughter and sharing stories. Gone was the anchor that made you feel connected and safe.

Instead, frustration etched itself onto his face like a battle scar, while his dilated pupils revealed an intensity you had never witnessed before, oscillating between your fear-stricken eyes.

His gaze dipped to your parted lips as you let out the breath you were holding, and before you could react, before you could appease him, Rafe captured your lips with his.

You froze. Paralyzed against Rafe's lips. Shock stole your breath away.

Time stopped in an instant as you grappled with the thought that this was a dream, a surreal nightmare. But that fragile notion shattered like glass as Rafe's movements became evident. His lips melded against yours like clay taking form. Hard and desperate, his kiss abruptly catapulted you back into the chilling reality that this was, without a doubt, happening.

Your instinct for survival surged as your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You attempted to push him away, but Rafe tightened his grip on your hair and yanked harder, forcing your submission, his tongue plunging into your mouth when you whined in protest.

The taste of alcohol on Rafe’s tongue was bitter and overwhelming. You tried to convince yourself that this was the reason behind Rafe's behaviour. Any moment now, he would realize his mistake, any moment he would let you go. But instead, Rafe's fingers sank into the hollow of your jaw, holding it open while his tongue explored the warm interior of your mouth.

You whimpered softly as his tongue twirled against yours with ferocity. Rafe adjusted his hand in your hair and gripped tighter, making you cry out as pain surged through your scalp and neck. The sound didn't deter him, as he forced your head back drinking from your mouth greedily.

Discordant notes rang out as you lashed out wildly, reaching for anything you could hold onto for balance. Your hands found Rafe's bicep and you dug your nails into his skin, trying to pull his hand away as he kissed you like a man possessed.

Your entire body was inflamed with sensations you had never experienced before as pleasure and pain bled into one. Your scalp ached yet your body felt hot. Your nipples were suddenly sensitive to your sweater's scraggly wool while you ached between your legs for something you had not experienced before. The whirlwind of sensations new and overwhelming within you made your eyes flutter shut on their own, your hands sliding up Rafe's wrist as you held on for balance.

Rafe's mouth worked over yours with an intensity so raw that your protests turned into breathless moans and frantic gasps as you succumbed to his kiss.  Your tongue tentatively meets his stroke for stroke.  Rafe growled in approval and you could feel him smile into the kiss, his tongue stoking the fire deep within you and just as quickly as it started, Rafe abruptly pulled away leaving you shaking and struggling for air.

Your heart raced within your chest as you abruptly pushed yourself off the piano bench, nearly causing it to tip over in your haste. Hand clutching your chest, you struggled to catch your breath, hastily wiping away tears that had unknowingly streamed down your cheeks. 

A fleeting glance at Rafe revealed his heavy breathing, his mouth agape in quick, shallow pants, and his pupils dilated, tinged with a faint hint of blue. Yet, it was the expression etched upon his face that sent a wave of terror crashing over you. 

Rafe's eyes showed no remorse.

Instead, you saw an overwhelming hunger within them that made your blood run cold. Rafe’s gaze moved down from your stunned face over your trembling body.  The danger that emanated from him made your knees buckle.

You took a step back, your mind whirling with fear and apprehension. But Rafe stepped forward, his eyes locked onto yours with determination.

"I-- I need to check on Wheezie. See what she'd like for dinner," you whispered, your voice shaking as you inched backwards toward the door. You turned to run but it was too late.

Rafe reached out and snatched the hem of your sweater, yanking you towards him. You struggled to break free, twisting and thrashing like a scared kitten in his grip but Rafe was relentless. His other hand reached for your waist as he pulled you close.  His nose and lips trailed the back of your neck and into your hairline and he groaned as he breathed you in. With a jab of your elbow into his rib you wriggled free.  It wasn't enough to wound him but it gave you the head start needed to run.

You dashed from the room, Rafe's pursuit relentless. His outstretched fingers grazed your sweater, narrowly missing its mark. It wasn't until you sprinted up the stairs that he abandoned the chase. You didn't need to glance back to feel his gaze on you.  The tendrils of his breathless laugh reverberated down the corridor.

You burst into Wheezie's room, a hot mess of tears and fear. You made up some excuse about feeling unwell and had to go home immediately. After calling Rose and arranging for a replacement babysitter for Wheezie, you sat in her room and waited for the sitter to arrive.

You didn't see Rafe when you left, and you thanked God for that. You knew that if you saw him, you would break down crying, and you couldn't bear to show him any more weakness. But the tears came anyways, hot and heavy, as soon as you got home. How could you have been so stupid? You knew all the rumors about him, knew that he wasn't a good guy, and yet somehow, you thought in your warped mind that he was different. A decent human being who was simply misunderstood.

It wasn't like you didn't see the signs. They were always there, staring you right in the face. The blatant flirting, the staring, the way he undressed you with his gaze. You dismissed every red flag, thinking he couldn't like you in that kind of way because you were not the type of girl Rafe Cameron would go for and you certainly weren't the type of girl Rafe Cameron would kiss.

And it wasn't just the kiss that scared you. It was the fact that Rafe had no intention of stopping. It was the way he held onto you, the way he made you feel like you were drowning in a sea of desire. He was a predator, relentless in his pursuit of you, and as you thought about how he grabbed onto your clothes his lips tracing your neck even as you protested you couldn't help but cry even harder.

No. There was no way you were setting foot in that house again. Not after the way Rafe kissed you, not after what he was determined to get out of you.

Over the next few weeks, Rose's texts kept coming, each one more insistent than the last. But you knew better than to give in to her demands. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what had happened with Rafe. It was too dangerous, too risky, and you couldn't afford to let your guard down again.

You thought about telling her what had happened with Rafe, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How could you explain what had happened without sounding like a fool? That you had been hanging out with her stepson for months, that you had let things get out of hand?

You had every intention of never setting foot in that house again. But then Rose sent you a text, asking if you were available on Saturday. They were desperate, she said, and willing to offer triple what they usually paid. Rafe and Sarah were going to a game and the lady who was supposed to look after Wheezie had a family emergency.

You were going to turn them down, again, but the truth was that since you had dropped them as a client, it had been difficult to find other work. So, against your better judgement, you agreed, but only after Rose confirmed that she and Mr Cameron would be home long before Sarah and Rafe returned.

As the day of the babysitting gig approached, a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that you shouldn't go, that it was too risky, too dangerous. But the promise of easy money was too tempting to ignore. And so, against your better judgement, you found yourself standing in front of the Cameron's house once again, your heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you approached the front door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Rose had texted you on your way over, telling you that she would be getting ready and to let yourself in. But when you rang the doorbell and received no answer, you began to worry. Still, you didn't think anything of it when you turned the door handle and found that it was unlocked. You stepped inside and called out for Wheezie and Rose, but the house was silent.

Making your way to the kitchen, you put down your bag and pulled out your phone. You texted Rose and Wheezie to let them know that you had arrived and were in the kitchen, just in case Wheezie was plugged in. But as you waited for a response, your heart sank.

Something wasn't right. You could feel it.

You had been to the Camerons' house many times and had let yourself in on a few occasions when they were too busy to answer the door. None of this was new but it felt different. An ominous feeling washed over you. But just as you began to worry, the sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your thoughts, and you sighed in relief.

As you called out for Rose, a sudden hush fell over the room, broken only by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up, hoping to see Rose's familiar figure, but instead, your eyes met the last person you expected to see: Rafe.

His presence was jarring, like a thunderclap on a clear day. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make sense of his unexpected appearance. But before you could utter a word, Rafe's murmur cut through the silence like a knife.

"Nah, not Rose," he said with a smile.

Fear took hold of you as you realized that he must have had something to do with Rose's texts in the first place. You stepped back, fear making your knees buckle.

"Where's Rose?" you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, as if shielding yourself from him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he drawled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Don’t come near me,” you said firmly as Rafe rounded the kitchen island towards you. Immediately, you moved in the opposite direction away from him.

“I… I just… I needed to talk to you, like, a little bit. Is that okay?” he said, opening his hands to placate you.

“Did Rose actually text me?”

“She did,” Rafe soothed. “But then I, uh… I heard you’d be here tonight instead of Pat, and well… seeing you was more important to me than some game.” His eyes trailed over your face, studying your every reaction.

“Where’s Wheezie?”

“With Sarah.”

You shook your head, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Rafe have orchestrated this situation for you to be alone with him without any of the Camerons noticing? But as if he heard your thoughts, a sly smile curled his lips and he chuckled softly.

“I told Rose I’d watch over Wheeze so she could catch an early ferry,” Rafe explained, his hands moving in slow, deliberate gestures, connecting invisible dots as he spoke. “After Rose left I gave my ticket to Wheeze.”

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Look, I know the last time I was a little… a little intense…”

“Intense!” You choked. You would have laughed if the whole thing wasn’t so heartbreaking.

“Yes, and I’m -- I'm really sorry about that, okay? I really am.”

"You tried to ra-”

"No! No, no, I would never..." Rafe rushed towards you and you immediately backed away. He froze mid-step as you cowered, his hands still raised in surrender.  "I’m sorry things were confusing and it looked that way but I wasn't trying to hurt you. God, I- l’m-" Rafe sighed, deflated his hands landed on his hips, he looked away as he pressed his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"You're sorry it looked that way?" you whispered your voice trembling. Rafe's words echoed in your mind while memories of that day in all its menacing glory flooded back. You looked at him flabbergasted.

"Rafe...you... you were kissing me-”

“I know but I-”

“And touching me--"

He breathed out a laugh "Come on, you know I was only-,"

“Without my consent, Rafe.”

He was silent with that and you hoped your words had finally sunk in, had finally made him understand how terrifying he was in that moment.

“Then you chased me.  You chased me like some...” you couldn’t even finish the sentence.  You didn’t know how to finish the sentence.  You were so hurt and confused.  That your friend could do something like that to you. “I don’t even know who you are. I- I don’t think I ever did,” you whispered.

Rafe's eyes landed on yours with that. His gaze was dark and intense, and for a moment, you thought you had gotten through to him because he nodded slowly. But then he let out a humourless chuckle, reminding you of the one he gave post-chase, and any hope of reaching him dissipated.

"You know, it’s funny ‘cause you say that...” Rafe said coldly, a hand gesturing to you as if trying to grasp his own thoughts “But you’re not entirely innocent in all of this, are you?” 

“I don't-- I don't understand."

“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, huh, Y/N?

"Raf—"

"What kind of mental shit you put me through? Nah, you don't. You don't think about that, do you?" he asked, his hands gesturing toward you as his eyes narrowed and he stared you down. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized the gravity of Rafe's words. It was as if he was confessing to a darker truth, a mental anguish that he had been helplessly consumed by, something unintentionally sparked within him by your actions.

"I have my dad on my back talking about legacies, our family business and preparing me for that shit meanwhile Sarah’s running around town doing god knows what with some loser fucking up our family name. I have real shit to deal with...” he gave out a bitter laugh his hand clutched to his chest as he confessed.

“But even with all of that all I can think about every minute of every fucking day, is you.” Rafe's voice was raw and anguished. His hand moved up to his ear as he slowly walked towards you.

"It's like you've crawled into my brain, you know? Like I’m under some fucking spell with your music and your voice and your-" His eyes trailed down your body just as his hand followed the motion, and you shuddered. He was consuming you with his gaze every sinful thought etched across his features.

"Nah, you made me do this…” he said bitterly, his jaw clenched tight.

“Rafe--”

“You did and now I'm the bad guy because I had a moment of weakness. But you know what? Fuck, it.” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Fuck it, i’ll take responsibility for my part in this--”

“Rafe--”

“That’s what real men do, right? Take responsibility for their shit and I’m all about being accountable, so yeah, I kissed you.” He said nodding slowly. “But I’m not sorry.”

His words made you recoil, disbelief etched across your face as you stared at him.

“Yeah, you want me to pretend like I am. Act apologetic but I won’t. I'm not sorry and you should quit actin’ like you didn't enjoy it."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the weight of his accusation settling in your stomach. Stunned, you opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. A dry, humorless laugh left you instead. Rafe simply nodded slyly as he resumed his steps towards you, and as you stepped backwards, your back collided with the kitchen counter.

“That’s- that’s not true.”

“No?” he asked faux confused.

“It’s not- that’s not fair”

“Isn’t it?” he tutted.

"Rafe, listen to me," you whispered shakily, but he was already leaning in, his eyes dark and clouded.

"No. No, no, you listen.”  he rasped, circling in and looking down on you, his lips pouted as he leaned into the shell of your ear, “You were moaning Y/N- No, don’t do that.  Don’t shake your head, and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don't stand there and pretend this whole fucking thing is one-sided. You were moaning into my mouth… and you...you held on to me, yeah? I didn’t force you to do those things."

"Rafe--”

“That was all you princess. So you gotta ask yourself. What kinda girl are you to be into that, hm?” Rafe whispered as he leaned into you.  “What kinda girl would moan like a whore when a guy manhandles her…”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t. I wanted you to stop Rafe and you-”

Rafe chuckled before you could even finish your sentence.

“Is that what was happening while you were kissing me back? Nah, see I know what your problem is. I know, I know, I know…” he repeated softly, as he gently rested his hands on your hips. “I know why you ran when deep down you wanted it.”

You opened your mouth to protest only for Rafe to push his body up against yours.  The hard wall of his body renders you speechless. “We eye fucked each other for months,”  he whispered, as he looked down at you.  His eyes darted to your lips as he licked his own.  “You wanted it.” He said coldly.

"But I get it. It was overwhelming... too much... too soon... hm?" he murmured as his nose grazed yours. "I should have approached you more patiently. I realize that now," he acknowledged with a slow nod. "I should have been gentle with you, and I had every intention to. But I -- I wanted you so bad that day that I couldn't think straight. I'm thinking straight now, though."

“Rafe...” you breathed out, your hands on his chest to push him away but not quite having the strength to do so.  Rafe must have picked up on this because he leaned in, his lips close to yours.

“You keep saying my name but you’re not telling me to stop...” Rafe whispered as his fingers caressed your cheek.  With a gentle touch, he lifted your chin, and you willingly yielded. His caress made you sway, your mind growing hazy and confused. To regain your balance, you closed your eyes.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop, hm?” he whispered.

You could feel the electricity between you as Rafe leaned in, lips hovering over yours and you tilted your head up slightly, closing the distance, only to be met with nothing. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Rafe’s hooded ones a victorious smile creeping across his lips.  

“Come on” Rafe whispered, and before you could protest Rafe laced his fingers in yours and gently tugged you towards the living room.

Seated at the piano, Rafe smoothly lifted the fallboard with ease.

"Play something for me," he husked, gesturing for you to take a seat beside him on the bench. You felt a flutter of nervousness as you perched yourself next to him, unsure of where to start. You couldn't comprehend how you had gone from rejecting his advances to this moment of willing compliance and acceptance.

Rafe watched you intently. You had been up-close to Rafe before, but never this close. Not this intimately. Your mind became blank, overwhelmed with the prospect of playing for him.

"I...I don't know what to..." you stuttered.

"Anything, anything at all," Rafe whispered, his eyes studying your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your trembling fingers on the keys and began to release the notes,  slowly at first, but gaining confidence with every passing moment.

“I noticed you, you know,” Rafe rasped. His knuckles suddenly grazed your cheek, and you flinched. “The first time you came to babysit Wheeze, I noticed you.” Rafe followed his knuckles as he moved them across your jaw.

“I remember thinking you were beautiful… shy… innocent…” Opening his hand, his fingers trailed down your neck, and your breath hitched.

“You were wearing this exact sweater…” His fingers splayed over your collarbone as they moved slowly down to your chest.

“What are you hiding under here, hm?” he asked softly. “What are you hiding under these baggy clothes?”

You shied away from his touch, your hands withdrawing from the keys of the piano.

"No. None of that. I’ll tell you when to stop,” he said his voice stern yet soft.  Your eyes glanced at his as Rafe inched closer.  “I’ll tell you when to stop.” he iterated slowly. “Start again.”

Swallowing you placed your hands on the keys while the music resumed from your fingertips.

Rafe shifted closer his leg flushed against your own.  He wrapped his arm over the back of you and hooked it to the other side of the bench. Leaning in, his nose ghosted your neck.

“Raf-”

“Shhhh…”His nose nudged into your hairline.  His other hand on your chest continued its exploration.  It moved lower cupping your tit over your sweater.  The gasp you make made Rafe breathe even heavier, a deep pur coming from the back of his throat.

“Please-” you whispered shakily.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you, you know that?  Every time you played I’d think about what you’d feel like... what you’d look like, moaning for me.  I wanna hear you moan for me.”  

Determined Rafe’s hand moved lower until it dipped under your sweater and you gasped when his warm fingers brushed the skin of your stomach. His other hand let go of the piano stool and was now under your sweater squeezing your tit through your bra.

“Rafe--”

“Keep playing” he whispered against your neck and you did. His hand at your stomach moved lower, finding the button on your jeans he unbutton it with one deft move and your hands falter.

“Keep playing” he murmured, face nudging into your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your throat.  “I wanna hear you play while I touch you”  

The sensation of Rafe's hands on your body was almost lost in the overwhelming numbness that had taken over you. His strong hand leisurely tugged at the waistband of your panties seeking to touch what lay beneath, while his other hand snaked under your bra. He caressed and teased your nipple until a soft sob erupted from you.

Rafe moved his hand lower, slipping it between your wet folds and pushing his middle finger inside of you. You cried out, the intensity of sensation causing you to clutch onto Rafe's arm for support, music abandoned.

“It’s okay “ Rafe breathed deeply into your neck, as he roughly peppered your neck with kisses.  “You're okay. Just breathe...” and as he said those comforting words he gently wormed another slender finger passed your slippery folds and into you.

You hissed, trying to move away from the burning stretch of his long fingers. Your nails dug into the flesh of his wrist with enough force to draw blood but Rafe determined as ever slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, each time inserting them a little deeper until it reached his signet ring.  

"You've had more than one finger before?" he asked hotly against your neck. You shook your head no, gritting your teeth in an effort to endure him stretching you further still. Rafe groaned and nipped softly at your jawline, "Fuck, I can tell. I can barely move them. But you're a good girl, aren't you? You're taking them well and afterwards, I'm gonna train you to take all of me."

Rafe's lips trailed tender kisses down the length of your neck, then his mouth closed hungrily around the sensitive skin. His two fingers moved inside you and each slow thrust drew a soft moan from your lips.

With surety, he curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, barely grazing your clit with his thumb. The sensation was overwhelming and foreign, causing you to gasp and cum embarrassingly fast. Your pussy contracting around his fingers, milking them for all they were worth.

“Oh Fuuckk…” Rafe hissed. “You liked that, I can feel it.“ He sighed utterly mesmerised. “Well, if you like that...” Rafe groaned resting his forehead against the side of your face and planting soft kisses on your cheek. “You’re gonna love this.”

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, Rafe's probing fingers started their relentless hunt for something deep within you. Suddenly, those searching digits found what they were looking for - a spot that caused you to arch over and clutch his hand as you cried out despite your best efforts.

“Oh- there it is” he chuckled softly, shunting his hand and hitting that spot over and over again with a speed and force that knocked the breath out of you, while his thumb expertly rubbed your clit and the fingers of his other hand mercilessly pulled and twisted your nipple.

“OhmyGOD!” you cried.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck my hand. Just like that.”

Rafe kept at it, even as your nails scraped along his wrist and arm for purchase.  Even as you screamed and tried to scissor your legs closed to shut him out. None of it mattered as your eyes crossed and you felt your orgasm raw and violent crash over you. 

Bucking violently into Rafe’s hand, you could feel your release seep through your jeans and onto the piano bench. Pooling and overflowing you could hear it trickle onto the hardwood floor and still, Rafe kept going, kept finger fucking you.

Lost in a sea of agonising pleasure you could do nothing but slump against him and take it, your hips stuttering, your mouth sagging as you whimpered and gasped.

Rafe moaned against you, planting soft kisses on the column of your throat. He stilled his hand, his fingers buried deep inside while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

"Seems my fingers are just as talented as yours, hm?" he said with a breathless chuckle. His nose trailed along your neck, while his tongue darted out to capture the perspiration nestled there. 

Gently, Rafe removed his digits while you gazed in shock, unable to voice a single word as he brought the wet fingers to his lips and ravenously lapped up your fluids with a contented hum.

“This is too much.” you said hoarsely  “I can’t-- I can't do this. No more, Rafe. No more,” you said weakly, trying to remove his hand from your breast and move away from his hold only for Rafe to seize your wrist painfully in his grasp.

"No more?" Rafe chuckled darkly, his gaze fixed on you with dilated pupils. "No more?" he repeated, inching closer as he shook his head. "Nah, baby. No. We're just getting started..."

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Thank you for reading.  Thanks for liking and reblogging. PART 2 / MASTERLIST

[crystallinecardinal]

So I was thinking about Starlo and Chujin

Hi. I love overanalysis. It’s in my blog title as “lore enthusiast.” Most of this probably means nothing and was unintentional, but I’m like an English teacher when it comes to media I like and am scrounging for canon content— I will see something that might have capital I Implications if you think about it hard enough, and I will shake you by the shoulders and go “WHAT DOES IT MEAAAN”

Which brings me to Starlo and Chujin and a thing I noticed while looking through the Spriter’s Resource for Starlo references. Long rant and UTY spoilers below the cut.

I should start off by saying that Starlo and Chujin are similar, in a way. Both of them are nerds, although for different things. Both are said to be caring. Both dedicated their lives to their work. Both wanted to help monsterkind. Both loved Ceroba. Both had secrets.

These similarities have not gone unnoticed, I’ve found— both by the fandom and the devs of UTY.

(Transcript:

Sword: “It does make sense that, like, Chujin and Starlo are kinda similar, and Ceroba, yknow…. She has a type, I guess.”)

So it’s not a secret these two are similar, and it’s probably intentional to make them parallel each other.

But from there, we get to the meat of this post:

These sprites.

This is where I dive into a lot of overanalysis— I’m giving that as a warning before I start. My point here though, is that these two sprites feel incredibly similar in a way where I speculate if it was intentional or not.

I’ll play devil’s advocate first, though. I’m an artist. I draw things, mostly characters and creatures. Sometimes you just have two pieces looking similar— not because you intended it that way, but because the blocking and composition was best that way.

For Starlo’s sprite, the answer feels simple. All of Starlo’s talk portraits are front facing, so this one doesn’t have a need to be any different. If it was, it may feel out of place amongst all the other sprites, especially because there isn’t a reason for him to have this sprite in particular face a different direction. He isn’t looking around, and isn’t averting his gaze. He’s being direct. The best way to convey that is with eye contact (or at least, implied eye contact) via a front facing sprite. Additionally, even if Starlo was averting his gaze, with how UT’s talk sprites work, there are better ways to convey that than changing the way his talk sprite faces.

Starlo’s character as himself also contributes to the way this sprite looks. It’s a direct contrast to the loud, boisterous North Star. This is the monster behind the persona— one who’s a lot less confident, one who thinks himself a ghost to the people around him. A “nobody farmer,” in his words. When trying to get this across, art-wise, the way Starlo’s talk sprites look as opposed to North Star’s talk sprites are a perfect fit! It’s in the subtle expressions versus animated expressions. This is even down to how Starlo’s glasses are drawn, not showing his eyes behind them, giving him a much more distant look.

As for Chujin’s sprite, the answer also feels fairly simple. The sprite pictured earlier was for his tapes, where it would make sense for most of his sprites to be front facing. He’s talking to the camera, it’s a video log. Being silhouetted also works here— it makes him more mysterious in a way.

That’s what I have to say if you look at it JUST from an art point. However, we like to be a little silly in this house (my blog), so I’m going to overanalyze the hell out of this.

So. The pose.

I’m probably going insane at this point. I’ve already explained the most likely reason for the poses being similar, and don’t get me wrong, that’s probably the main reason why. But also— note the eyes.

According to the Spriter’s Resource, Chujin’s sprites usually have his eyes visible from behind his goggles.

But.

There are exceptions.

I think the reason for this lies in the same reason we never see Starlo’s eyes behind his glasses after he takes the hat off. I explained this earlier when discussing the artistic reasoning behind these sprites— not seeing Starlo’s eyes makes him appear more distant, which highlights the part of his character that’s much less confident in himself. We go from seeing his eyes (or at least, the shape of them behind his glasses, this is a consistency with UTY sprites I can talk about later) to not at all.

This is what makes Chujin’s sprites so important to me.

We’re meant to like Chujin. At least, before we know the truth. We’re meant to think he was always a kindhearted man, a loving father and husband, and a good mentor. All the good things. It’s only as the game continues that you see the imperfections. By talking to Dina, you see he didn’t like the Wild East due to what it stood for, and you learn of the time he came into the saloon all disheveled, uncharacteristically asking for a drink, only mentioning he thought he “saw a ghost”. You learn in the Steamworks of his research, and how he wasn’t as good at robotics as he was made out to be.

That’s what makes Chujin flawed, though. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, none of these things will make a player dislike him. As said— we’re supposed to like Chujin. An opinion and a mysterious saloon visit isn’t the end of the world. We also grow to learn more and more about him, and he seems just like a kind man with a love for robotics (even if he struggled).

And then we learn of Ceroba’s plan. And we learn of something hidden in the abandoned Ketsukane Estate.

This is the first time in the Pacifist route that we actually SEE Chujin, first in a photo.

Note the eyes.

We see Chujin’s eyes behind his goggles here! Once again— this is likely for the reason mentioned before. We’ve only been told mostly good things about Chujin so far! Here’s a photo of him and his family— how could this kind man be wrapped in anything suspicious?

Which then makes the sudden change in the tapes crucial.

We can no longer see his eyes— he’s grown distant, mysterious. This is the part of Chujin that he kept secret from even Ceroba, up until he was on his deathbed. It’s the part of him that isn’t necessarily the loving husband and father we know him as, but rather, this is the part of him that was a determined researcher on a mission. And therefore, Chujin goes from lively to cold.

I’m sure that last bit doesn’t ring any alarm bells at all.

Hey! Remember how I said Starlo and Chujin are similar in ways? This is where I get into that. I’m applauding you from behind my screen if you’re still reading.

I’m now going to talk about Starlo and Chujin as characters, as well as the parallels between the two sprites that started this analysis. For simplicity, I’ll break these into sections. Funky names for a funky reading experience, so I’m not just word dumping at you.

1) Got a secret, can you keep it?

Soooo. Chujin and Starlo’s secrets.

One of the first things that rings alarm bells for me is the situation in which both of the sprites I’m analyzing pop up in. Context is key. Specifically, both of the sprites are used when we’re learning the truth about each character.

For Starlo, we’re learning about who he really is, the monster behind the persona. He takes his hat off, reveals the monster underneath, and we get his new talk sprite. He’s finally stopping, for a second— taking a moment to break the act he’s been playing for YEARS. And he does it all to show Ceroba he’s still there underneath it all, as well as reveal to Clover who he really is. He’s at his most vulnerable state, revealing how he sees himself as a nobody, and a fraud.

For Chujin, we’re learning part of the truth of who he was, when he’s at his most morally dubious. We learn of his experiments, the ones he worked on and hid from his family until he was about to die— only then did he tell Ceroba. We also learn of his views and opinions, the reasoning behind them, and how he lied about his job at the Steamworks. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Ceroba he was fired, because he didn’t want her to think less of him.

So, the main points of this:

Starlo and Chujin both had their own secrets

Both of their secrets are revealed when these sprites are used

Both secrets reveal more about the characters’ identities

Both want to be seen in a good light

The main difference, I think, other than what the secrets entail themselves, are what they mean for each character.

2) Light and dark symbolism?? In MY overanalysis??? It’s more likely than you think

Chujin and Starlo’s secrets both weigh on them. Starlo doesn’t want to break character— he enjoys being North Star and wants to bring a smile to the faces of monsterkind. Chujin doesn’t want Ceroba to think any lesser of him for his mistakes.

Additionally, the reveal of their secrets marks two different things for their characters. For Starlo, it’s a step forward. For Chujin, it’s spiraling down.

This gets really fun considering these two sprites, and light and dark symbolism (not in the traditional good versus evil way).

Starlo’s in the light. He’s showing himself, he’s maturing. He’s being incredibly vulnerable for probably the first time in a LONG time, and finally breaking the persona. He’s working towards a better goal, accepting both North Star and Starlo as facets of himself, but it starts with taking off the hat. It starts with coming into the light, and letting the shadows fade away.

Chujin is silhouetted in darkness. As said previously, we only ever hear mostly good things about Chujin from those who were around him (barring Starlo, although that’s secondhand information, and by some extent, Dina). Martlet and Ceroba saw the best in him, a mentor and loving husband respectively. But as he rambles off to his tapes, shrouded in shadow and secrecy, we learn of what was happening behind the scenes: he reveals part of who he really was, and how much he hid away from those he loved, all away from the rose colored glasses.

3) “Your opinion is wrong” -Chujin, probably

To just point out more ways Chujin and Starlo parallel yet also contrast one another (which I will mention for the section after this as well): I think it goes without saying that Starlo and Chujin have opposite worldviews when it comes to humans.

Chujin believes the worst in humans, primarily due to the Snowdin Attack. He hates them— The War was when the blade was plunged into monsterkind’s flesh, and the Snowdin Attack was only a twist of the knife.

Starlo admires humans, maybe a bit too much for some monsters. He loves their stories, loves the idea of cowboys and Westerns, so much so he creates the Wild East with his posse.

This is what makes these two different, only strengthening the light/dark contrast. The ideas of hate and admiration fit well into that theme, don’t they?

Stick with me here. I promise this is going somewhere.

4) “Monsterkind’s Hero is a title soaked in blood.”

So, the aforementioned views of humans? This gets really fun when you apply it to the crux of Starlo and Chujin’s missions: to help monsterkind during their time underground.

Both want to be heroes, in a way. They both want to help. Of course, this is in different ways— but the main intention behind it is the same.

Chujin, as said, hates humans. He wants monsters to be brought to justice. After the Snowdin Attack, he decides that if he can’t help through Axis, then he’ll help another way. Thus starts Chujin’s dedication to his experiments, which he makes his work and eventually the rest of his life. All of it for a chance to help monsterkind when the time comes.

Starlo’s dedication to the Wild East is similar, in a way, yet directly contrasts Chujin. His admiration for humans and Westerns goes to the point he wants to provide monsterkind with their own “slice of the Surface.” He wants to see those around him smile— his own way of helping monsterkind when they’re still stuck underground.

My point here is that while they find different ways to accomplish their missions (and you can drag more light/dark symbolism out of this— Chujin hidden away in the shadows of the basement in the Ketsukane Estate versus Starlo out in the spotlight), both have so much dedication to it that it becomes their lives.

Chujin, although having a family he loved and cared for, let his experiments drive him onwards to the point it cost him his life. Starlo willingly gave up who he was to be North Star, letting the Wild East become his life.

5) Yes, and?

I could go on and on about more similarities and differences between Starlo and Chujin, but I feel like I’ve brought up what I need to for now.

Why bring all of this up in the first place, though? What’s the point of going on about these characters’ missions, or their secrets, or all the light and dark symbolism you could hypothetically draw from it?

Let me talk about those sprites again.

I’ve spent ages going on about Starlo and Chujin, and how they parallel, yet contrast each other. They’re foils, in a way. These similarities and differences are what make these two little sprites so interesting to me.

You could say it’s all because that’s what the scene needed at the time, and that statement likely has truth to it. I already talked about how. But the knowledge of the context of the scenes and these two characters is what makes me wonder if it all was done on purpose.

Chujin, shrouded in shadow, revealing a part of him kept secret from even those he loved most. His reasoning for his hatred for humans comes on full display, and he begins to formulate a mission, the same one his life would eventually fall to. If the royals won’t see how much he cares for monsterkind, he’ll show it himself.

Starlo, left in the Swealterstone’s light, revealing a part of him the Wild East knows nothing of. His mission starts to redefine itself, and it’s original intent becomes more clear. He only ever wanted to be someone. He only ever wanted to help. Maybe now, with the hat off, he can learn to make others happy, but not forget himself in the process.

A conclusion:

So. Do I think that these two sprites for Starlo and Chujin were intentionally made to parallel yet also contrast each other?

My answer is a big fat Maybe. I can’t be entirely sure.

Truth is, I’m not a UTY dev. I literally only discovered and got into this game a little over a month ago. I don’t know the true intent behind the spritework, I don’t know the conversations that happened behind the scenes. I am literally just A Guy ranting on the internet about a silly little fangame that I have brainrot over.

But! I do have a finalized game and commentary I can analyze, and knowing that some spritework details were intentional (the way that Chujin’s talk sprites face are made to match Ceroba and Kanako’s), I could see something like this being either intentional or a really fun coincidence. The type of thing the devs can look back on and realize “oh! That’s funny how I accidentally made that parallel. I didn’t mean to do that, but it works.”

I can only hope it was intentional. Chujin and Starlo are both incredibly interesting characters to me, especially in how they can be seen as foils. Something as minor as this I think just shows the love put into this game and these characters. UTY is just a great game overall, in my opinion.

But yeah! That’s my ramble, all because I was doing sprite studies and looking for references in the Spriter’s Resource for art. Hopefully I made at least some sense :)

[galaxygolfergirl]

Some of my favorite Helsa fan arts I’ve done throughout the years (dates are in the alt text).

I’ve been thinking about this ship recently, especially its place in the fandom, and I have some thoughts (read below)

Ever since I was roped into this franchise 10 years ago, I think I’ve almost always drawn Hans with a beard. Primarily, it was because I felt that if he ever did show up again in Frozen media, he would be more weathered and unpretentious about his appearance since dropping his facade in the first film. Also because I just thought he would look better with more facial hair (it’s a me thing).

As for Elsa, I’ve never been consistent in drawing her, as it was hard for me to read her animated model, what with her huge eyes and baby nose, as normal, so that’s evolved over the years to a happy medium where it still reads as Elsa, but also reads as human with normal face proportions.

As to why I’ve shipped helsa all these years? Hans and Elsa are two sides of the same coin to me, the main difference being that one of them succumbed to their worst intentions and desires, while the other freed themselves and learned to embrace love and peace in their life. Both were isolated during their childhoods, resulting in years of loneliness, misery, and bitterness; both try to appear poised and reserved, hiding their inner self-loathing; both are intelligent and cunning, both have a definite aggressive streak, and both have interesting chemistry in their very few scenes together. Hans seems to be the only one on equal footing with Elsa who can get through to her throughout the film, mainly for his own ambition, of course, but it intrigued me to see even all these years later how compelling their interactions are.

Why would he sympathetically plead, “don’t be the monster they fear you are,” and stop her from killing those two guards? If he was planning on killing her, why would he go to her and ask if she could stop the winter? Why does he look shocked, almost sad when she tells him that she can’t, like he’s regretting having to kill her? It’s moments like these that paint these characters with more nuance than meets the eye.

I’ve always thought after the first movie, there was definitely potential for a more nuanced and interesting story if Hans were to return. Not simply for revenge, but rather an “enemy of my enemy is my friend” situation, where Frohana would have to work with Hans somehow to fend off an invading force or adversary, like the Southern Isles, to stick it to his family. He and Elsa would be adversarial, for sure, but through forced cooperation, they could open up and become more vulnerable with one another. The amount of angst and turmoil over their feelings for one another would be doubly engrossing. The drama would be incredible.

Now listen: I don’t really expect any of that to happen. I got off the Helsa or die party bus years ago and I’m just mainly enjoying it as it’s own non-canon concept. Believe me, I would love it if it did happen, god willing and the creek don’t rise. But really, when you get down to it, these are movies marketed at little girls, and I don’t think it would really go that far. It’s not easy to come back from holding a sword over a girl’s head, as quoted by Santino Fontana himself.

I grew up with this fandom, I started all the way back in middle school 10 years ago, and this has been a definite learning experience for me in separating the extrapolated world of fan-fiction and the reality of a pg animated musical. I’ve grown up and my expectations are different, and now I understand that canon doesn’t mean shit. I beg, do not take any of this seriously. Just because it has the Disney trademark slapped on it does not mean it’s the end all be all of a story. Stories are fluid things that adapt and evolve in each of the hands they pass through. No one interpretation of a story or a character or a relationship has to be “the right one,” and not every character has to sit on a black and white scale of moral dichotomy, there are always shades of gray.

I’m not saying all of this to be deep about a ship between a Disney princess and a Disney villain that I got into when I was 13, believe I know it’s not that deep. I’m saying this because I’ve lived through fandom and set myself up with false expectations, only to be disappointed. Hell, I took a break from helsa for a solid 3 years because of how burnt out I was. It’s far too easy to dissociate from the text and treat fanon as canon; you’re just setting yourself up to be disappointed. Just let it be its own thing! Like I said, canon does not mean shit! Don’t take things so seriously! Feel free to tell your own stories!

Anyways, I still love this ship, or at least the version I came up with in my head, because I am a storyteller, and I saw potential in these two that could be realized through other means. It doesn’t matter to me if it’s canon or not. Just enjoy it as it is.

[musicalmoritz]

i’ve been following you for a little while because i’ve been considering getting back into TBHK. it was one of my strongest fixations but i was totally put off by the fandom’s reception of one part of the story until i dropped it entirely.

i thought i’d ask to see if the fandom has changed at all since i was last in it, and you seem really good at analyzing media: what’s your take on the amane/(possessed) tsukasa sa theory? i won’t argue regardless of what your opinion is! i’m just curious to see how the fandom is treating the story now. i miss the series alot ngl

Have I finally made it as a TBHK fan creator now that I’ve gotten an ask abt the SA theory?? Jk jk, that was a terrible joke I’m sorry guys

Before I get into this I wanna say thank you for being so respectful, people tend to have very strong feelings in this theory (for good reason, it’s a serious subject) and that can lead to pitchforks whenever it’s brought up. I’m going to try to discuss this as neutrally as possible but I will warn you that I’m very biased. I love Tsukasa as a character and the Yugi twins as a sibling duo so as much as I try to see both sides, I simply don’t want this theory to be true and that plays a large role in how I perceive it

TW: This is going to contain more mature themes than my usual posts. Talk of incest, abuse, sexual assault, sex, trauma, PTSD, and a very brief mention of lesbian fetishization

Starting off with how the fandom as a whole talks about it, people are very against it nowadays. When the anime first came out it was super popular, but now you can’t even mention it without someone telling you never to bring it up again. I have only posted about it once and it was a joke about Tsukasa and Teru both having allegations made against them (tho the Teru ones are way less common and only made by fans who want them to be true bcuz they hate him or ship him with his brother). So far I’ve strayed away from going in depth with my thoughts on it, writing this feels like I’m swinging a bat at a hornet’s nest. If your problem with the fandom was that they denied this theory, then I would continue to stay away from it. People on here are more open towards it than TikTok tho so if you still want to get back into the fandom, I would recommend staying on Tumblr. Someone made ONE post implying it on TikTok recently and the entire fandom was shitting on them for like a week. Those instances are rare, I like the fandom overall, but it has its toxic moments and areas just like every fandom

Okay now onto the theory itself. I’m not going to pretend I don’t see where it comes from, there are some scenes in the manga that are drawn and worded weirdly. Most notably the scene in the Picture Perfect Arc where Mei wrote “Brother Lover” on Amane’s face made me wonder if they were trying to imply something. I have since learned that other translations don’t have the incest implication, but it’s still odd to me that they allowed that in any version. Still, he just looked kind of annoyed as opposed to getting flustered like he would have if something was going on with him and Tsukasa (the way he gets flustered when his feelings for Nene are brought up). So I viewed that scene more as a dark humor joke from Mei, I don’t think it was meant to imply anything serious between the twins

There is another scene in that arc, however, when Nene sees Tsukasa clinging to Amane and Amane does get flustered. He starts blushing and says “um…we were just…” and doesn’t really finish his sentence. This made me raise an eyebrow, but I also wouldn’t take it as confirmation that there’s anything romantic or sexual between them. It could very much be viewed as Amane being embarrassed. I feel that the strongest evidence for the incest theory comes from this arc, but that’s only if you want to run with the scenes I mentioned. I also find it strange that people never use these scenes as evidence, only panels that are drawn kind of weird. Fans seem to be stuck on a lot of early scenes with this theory which weakens its substance

For the record, I will not be analyzing the scene from the anime intro. That has already been debunked, the shadowy figure wasn’t Tsukasa, it was a representation of Hanako’s guilt. Although I disagree with the theory, I’m trying to be fair to the campaigners by debunking the stronger pieces of evidence

The strongest evidence for this theory comes from the art, which is just as important to the story as the writing. With manga and graphic novels, the art tells half the story. It shouldn’t be overlooked, so I understand how some fans lean into it. Look back at the official art I put at the top of this post, it’s weird. Hanako is leaning over Tsukasa while Tsukasa holds his chin/lips and arm. They’re posed like a couple. We would never see the Minamoto brothers posed like that. In other scenes, we see Tsukasa touching Amane’s face or holding him from behind. They’re very touchy with each other, more-so than the other siblings in the series

I have two reasons for not taking these type of scenes/arts seriously in a romantic sense. One is that Tsukasa is simply an affectionate character, and Hanako is the same way. I think it’s more part of their behavior than being specific to each other. Secondly, if it’s intended to be taken in an incestuous way then I genuinely believe it’s fan service. That’s one part I don’t deny, AidaIro have certainly given us reason to believe the twins are like the Property Brothers. I just don’t believe it has any place in the actual story or their dynamic. Fan service is common in TBHK and sometimes it veers into problematic territory. Just look at the scene where Hanako possesses Nene to assault Aoi, and then Kou gets flustered by it and can’t help. A random lesbian fetish scene that is never brought up again and plays no role in the story other than moving us from A to B. I have also heard that there’s incest in some of the other works they’ve made, so it’s not a reach to assume they’d throw in a little fan service for the Yugi twins. How seriously you want to take those scenes is up to you, personally I will continue to deny it until we’re given undeniable confirmation

Back to the twins just being affectionate, we see them act that way with lots of characters. Tsukasa is clingy to Sakura and Mitsuba too, sometimes very suggestively. That doesn’t mean he’s into them. I will say that Hanako is most notably clingy to Nene, someone he’s in love with, but we see him get close and friendly with the other characters too (he sat on Kou’s side and booped his nose during their first meeting). And Tsukasa is the one who initiates their physical affection 99% of the time, Amane’s been receiving it since early childhood so him copying Tsukasa’s behavior makes sense. Romantic relationships in adulthood are determined by the way we interact with our families as children so him repeating these actions in a romantic context doesn’t indicate anything abnormal. In fact, it’s a very realistic portrayal of how our love languages and attachment styles evolve over time

And keep in mind, they’ve been that way since they were three years old, it’s just the way they interact with other people and each other. Tsukasa is a very childish character too, one who has very little concept of personal space and boundaries. So him being a little too clingy with his brother might not mean anything. Again, you could read into it if you really wanted to, but the way he interacts with Amane is nothing out of the ordinary. It aligns with his usual mannerisms, if it were specific to Amane then he wouldn’t act that way with the other characters (Amane was also clingy with Nene before he fell for her). Think of it this way, you don’t see Akane holding Teru’s hand or confessing his undying love to Nene. Characters are going to act differently in their platonic relationships vs. romantic/sexual, and we don’t see that difference with the Yugi twins

A difference we do see with them, however, is that Tsukasa isn’t physically aggressive with Hanako the way he is with everyone else. He never attacks him or tries to hurt him, in fact every time he sees him he gets overjoyed and tackles him in a hug. He has no problem hurting him emotionally and mentally, but we never see any physical aggression between the two. This leads me to believe that the SA theory is invalid, it doesn’t line up with how Tsukasa treats Hanako currently or in any of the flashbacks. If anything sexual took place between them, it would have had to be consensual, because the more solid evidence backing this theory focuses on Hanako’s side of things. He’s very possessive of Tsukasa, and he doesn’t experience a trauma response when they’re touching normally. If it’s an intense scene and Tsukasa is telling him horrible things while touching him, then he freezes in place and starts crying. But when Tsukasa is just hugging or clinging to him, he only gets embarrassed. Hanako does show some signs of PTSD, but that trauma is rooted in him killing Tsukasa. If the trauma were anything sexual, we would see him experience those same trauma responses he displays in violent scenes when Tsukasa touches him in any context. At the very least, we’d see him get way more uncomfortable than being mildly annoyed

(Note: I am aware that not everyone reacts to trauma and PTSD the same way. I do not have any trauma of my own so I am going off what I have heard throughout my life from others sharing their stories. I am in no way trying to invalidate anyone’s experiences, no matter how you react to your abuser your feelings are valid and I hope you get the help you need)

Another common piece of evidence used is that Hanako is hypersexual. I believe this is a serious misuse of the term, hypersexuality is so much more than being a pervert. People who are hypersexual usually think about sex all the time, they engage in excessive sexual behaviors and even think about it in completely normal contexts. This is a common response to many types of trauma, not just sexual. It’s a way for people to gain back control after they’ve been abused, or sometimes it’s a problem that arises from porn addictions or a weird relationship with sex. Even if Hanako were hypersexual, that wouldn’t necessarily indicate SA. He has canonical trauma aside from that, and it could also come from the pent-up frustration of being a middle schooler for 58 years

This is another situation where we have to account for the context. You can’t just take one element of a character’s canon personality and run with it, that’s the leading cause of mischaracterization. You have to consider how that behavior lines up with their other traits. Hanako is an allosexual boy who has been 13 for literal decades. Middle school boys are already one of the horniest species on our planet, it’s an awkward time when you’ve just learned those feelings exist and what they mean but you’re not emotionally mature enough to do anything about it. That usually goes away in the next few years when teens start getting into relationships. Now imagine that feeling staying with you for fifty-eight years. That’s over half a lifetime of being stuck in a transitional period. You have so many strong feelings, but you can’t do anything about them. Not just because of maturity, but because there’s no one to do them with. It makes sense that you wouldn’t know how to act when you get your first girlfriend (not excusing any of his weird behavior btw, frustration is not an excuse and it doesn’t make the way he treats Nene and Aoi okay. But it’s still important to understand his reasons, especially in this context)

I also want to note something I don’t see pointed out often, which is that most of the major scenes of Hanako’s pervertedness occur when he’s talking to Kou. TBHK has a very realistic portrayal of male friendship imo, and this is one of those examples. Having a girlfriend isn’t the only thing Hanako’s missed out on, he also hasn’t been able to make any friends his own age. He’s trying to get Kou to engage in “locker room talk” as a way to bond with him. Whether he’s trying to convince him to share his own preferences, or just wanting to mess with him, it brings them closer in a way. One of the main ways Hanako expresses affection is by annoying people, but I do think part of it is because he wants to be able to talk about hot girls with his only male friend. Sadly, he got stuck with the only middle school boy who respects women

We as a fandom tend to focus on these scenes as “omg Hanako’s a pervert,” or for people that ship him with Kou it’s “aww he’s teasing his boyfriend,” but I think the purpose is more-so to build a realistic friendship dynamic. I find it funny that the fandom as a whole leans more into the teasing explanation whether they ship Hanako and Kou or not, it’s funny to me that we all automatically go with the gay interpretation. But Hanako often uses jokes to cover up his deeper feelings, he acts like he doesn’t care when he actually cares very deeply. So him playing up his pervertedness in an attempt to make friends seems very on brand

My last piece of evidence against this theory is a bit silly and a lot of ya’ll aren’t going to want to hear this but Hanako is most likely straight

*the crowd boos me*

I know, I know, I love the bi headcanon too and I think it makes sense, but unlike with some of the other characters I don’t think it has a place in canon. He acts overly friendly with Kou sometimes but if you’re going to assume they’re queercoded, you have to assume the same about Aoi and Nene (both affectionate friendship that look a little queer sometimes). Shipping aside I read them as a purely platonic duo, if there are feelings on either side then it’s more likely Kou since he’s bisexual. Lots of people point out the scene where he flirts with Kou as a girl, and I agree that was gay af but I kinda think he was just trying to mess with him. And keep in mind that the first thing he wanted to do as a girl was look at girls changing in the locker room (yuri yuri lesbian yuri wlw gay gay lesbian yuri)

This isn’t to bash anyone’s headcanons btw, I headcanon Hanako as bisexual and I do ship him with Kou. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t bet my money on him being intended to be bi in canon. In my post about possibly bisexual TBHK characters I included him as an honorable mention, I just haven’t seen enough substantial evidence so far to believe he was intended to be interpreted that way

I’m aware that sexuality isn’t the biggest obstacle for Tsukasa and Amane, but it’s a relevant mention. If Hanako doesn’t like men, I doubt he’d want to be with his brother of all men. Even if he liked men that would be a terrible option. AidaIro have also confirmed in one of their official arts/doodle skits that Nene is Hanako’s first love, which further leads me to believe nothing happened between him and Tsukasa. You don’t get with your sibling if you’re not ride or die about it. And as I mentioned before, anything that happened between them would have had to be consensual in order to be in-character and line up with the evidence surrounding the incest theory

Lastly, I do believe the love between the brothers is somewhat genuine. It’s horribly toxic, Hanako left Tsukasa in some sort of void for decades and now he continues to keep him around as a yorishiro despite knowing it makes Tsukasa miserable. He loves him so much that he can’t let him go even when it would be good for Tsukasa. That’s selfish, it’s toxic, and on Tsukasa’s side things aren’t much better. He adores his brother but he also resents him for everything he’s done. He hurts him emotionally and attacks his friends. And, of course, Amane killed Tsukasa. Not exactly Brother of the Year

But through all of this, you can’t deny that the love is there. Fans who believe Amane hates Tsukasa kind of miss the point, Tsukasa wouldn’t be Amane’s yorishiro if he hated him. He loves him dearly but in a very complicated way. Adding romance or lust to that love frankly doesn’t make sense to me, it’s adds an unnecessary layer that doesn’t line up with the rest of their dynamic. It feels like a “yes and” to their story. I have read analyses that explain both sides, and ultimately I remain against this theory

I hope this helped you understand my perspective!! I tried to be fair to both sides but as I mentioned, I’m very biased. This is a very uncomfortable subject so it was difficult to write about, but I like tackling more complex topics. I don’t block people who believe this theory unless I dislike the way they talk about it, some people insist it’s canon to the point of hating Tsukasa for it or saying the series is bad. But for those that are more open-minded about this theory, I don’t mind interacting with them. In general though this is something I try not to think about lol

[s-che]

The Dream Library: Apocalypse World 2

The Dream Library had our second Apocalypse World one-shot earlier this week, ending out the end of a month of talking about D. Vincent and Meguey Baker’s game of high octane apocalyptica. Next month, we'll be continuing our semester of PBTA one-shots and book-club discussions with two excellent historical games: Night Witches and Sagas of the Icelanders.

If you'd like to get in on the discussion and maybe even sign up for a one-shot, shoot me a message -- we'd love to have you.

As with the last play report, I want to open by making two things absolutely clear:

Apocalypse World is a sicknasty game that deserves to get played way more often than it does, especially by people who are working and playing in a design lineage which has been forever altered by Meg and Vincent’s work.

Apocalypse World is a game done absolutely dirty by short-term play, a fact which came out way harder in this session than it did the first time round. We had a ton of fun, of course — but the fact that our play was capped at the 3-hour mark meant we barely scratched the surface of what this game can do. 

This time, I ran the game following Vincent Baker’s advice on running Apocalypse World in a con slot, which helped a lot — and still didn’t scratch the itch I have to play this game and only this game for the next hundred or so years. Most notably, we ended up dividing play into two micro-sessions — meaning we got to turn our bio-break into a narrative breather as well and flex some of the game’s “long-term” rules. I’ve broken my thoughts up here by session, which felt appropriate.

Session 1: A Desert Landscape

I had no idea where the session was going to start when we settled down to play — beyond the fact that I was going to open in media res with someone (the answer ended up being my first volunteer, @tormentedbyvisions) in a very bad spot. Details came quickly when we looked for them — a collapsing office tower and glimpses of a desert landscape out the broken windows, dotted with more towers in the distance. Goldman (The Savvyhead, any pronouns), an elderly survivor who, as it turned out, loved nothing more than telling people lies about the world as it was, is cornered on the second floor as a gang headed by a warlord named Dremmer picked their way through the rubble below. Cut forward a few seconds and we have Goldman leaping from a hole in the wall to land on the dune below as Dremmer’s gang fire wildly at a phantom drawn from the psychic maelstrom.

Meanwhile James (The Driver, he/him) and October (The Skinner, they/them) raced along the desert highway looking for their friend. A bad role lead to an ambush, a flipped car, and a surprisingly civil conversation with a would-be raider named Jackabacka — who James enlisted to get the car unstuck and then left unconscious in a ditch. Meeting back up with Goldman — a little battered from his fall from the building, but mostly fine — the game headed back to their home: the outskirts of an oil-refining city which sprang into existence at the moment we needed it, and never before. We wrapped on our first microsession by developing character Hx and nailing down who all these people were to each other.

What did we learn? For one, Apocalypse World is a great game to make shit up in. I talked at length in my last session write-up about the instruction to “barf forth apocalyptica” and how good getting really in the juice of a genre feels, but there’s more than just that happening here. Apocalypse World has a deeper philosophy of storytelling and play (one related, I think, to what I called “fluid mapmaking” in a recent article) which really relishes in moments of hesitation and consideration. There’s an approach to play which some games and players take where “good improv” is ultimately about maximal flexibility — where the ultimate end is to hide the fact that you’re “making things up” at all, and make the game world seem as fully realized as possible. Improv is just a way to get there — since we cannot possibly have prepped for every occasion, improv fills in the gaps. The hyper-performative role of the GM is never permitted to ask for a second to think or talk through some ideas out loud (in the way a non-GM player might) — their role is a kind of computer-referee (a “stable,” as opposed to fluid, mapmaker) who presents only the truth.

Apocalypse World bucks this trend in several ways: in the way moves prompt big narrative swings, in the suggestion you spend session one just following the characters around and seeing what happens, in the MC philosophy (to “always say what your prep demands,” yes, but also to “barf forth apocalyptica,” to “ask provocative questions and build on the answers,” and to “sometimes, disclaim decision-making), and also (and perhaps most importantly) in the “umms” and “hmms” which permeate the play examples. Apocalypse World is a game which is invested in modeling collaborative — really collaborative — play and which, as a result, never felt like a burden or a trap. It felt like my players and I were all together mapping and remapping a world with the tools and toys the Bakers had given us (and what lovely tools and toys they are) but never restricted by the thing we were trying to make. It felt like we were playing. 

On another note about the first session — and this isn’t textual to Apocalypse Worlds, but to Vincent’s con-running method, but — the practice of giving players something to do (in this case, filling out the details of their character sheets) while the narrative spotlight is on others is one of those design ideas that, once you’re exposed to it, you’ll never forget. This is something I’ve seen others to — most recently (and extensively) @jdragsky's Seven Part Pact is a game that does this over and over and over again — but it really hit me in this session what a lifesaver it is. Especially in online games, where losing focus and energy is so easy, giving people something to do which keeps them invested in the game (in the way, in person, just being in a space together might) is the kind of thing I’m going to start putting in all my games. 

Session 2: Lord Terry’s Gasland Refinery

Back from a brief break, I introduced the players to the threat map I’d designed while they were away. It was populated, mostly, by people we’d already talked a little bit about — the refinery where they lived, Dremmer’s Gang in the north, the landscape of the desert highway all around them — plus a couple of strange details thrown in for good measure (at the last minute, I decided to add the Red Priory, the setting of the last oneshot I ran, on the map in the far east — a fact which I could talk about for hours. People need to play Apocalypse World with me west marches style PLEASE). 

Jumping back into the swing of play wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped — the result, I think, of breaking up the session like we did meant we needed to do the usual beginning of session dipping our toes in the water again, but this time with a much sharper awareness of the ticking clock. Still, we got somewhere — thanks in no small part to the fun of just bopping around with these characters. It’s rare that you get to say “okay, now it’s a week later. What has that week looked like?” especially in the context of a oneshot. The cost of starting a session to the players — okay, what has your life looked like? how much barter are you losing to afford that? — quickly transformed what had been a pretty generic setting into a place that had some teeth. Barfing forth apocalyptica — and some yes-anding with the players — gave us Lord Terry, a feudal tyrant whose authority rests (shakily) on the loyalty of his retained soldiers and the terror of the serfs (including our players). 

Truthfully, we didn’t get particularly far in this session: some tinkering in Goldman’s workshop, an argument with Terry, a scouting mission which ended in a tense standoff with Jackabacka, and then a race back home as October washed Jackabacka’s blood off their knife and James bled out in the backseat. I don’t think the “plottiness” of the session got anywhere — but that has also maybe never felt like less of the point. The joy of our second session was absolutely frontloaded — in the moments of thinking about the community to which we (tangentially) belonged and the powers that be, there. 

Apocalypse World tells you it is best played in a long campaign — and I think this was the moment it was most clearly right. I would love to tell you what happens next to James, or whether Lord Terry is going to be dethroned, or if Dremmer’s really the threat he seems to be. None of those are questions I thought I’d be asking, going into this session — they’re questions the game gave me over the course of play. We had some hiccups, of course (combat is brutal when you don’t have a medic, and I wish, in retrospect, that I’d pushed players to read people more often), but on the whole Apocalypse World is a marvelous engine for generating a really collaborative story.

Which makes me ask, like I did last time — what the fuck happened? People talk a lot about PBTA as a philosophy and not just a mechanic — but I think at some point in history that philosophy seems to have fallen out and gotten slimmed down to "PBTA is when 2d6+"

This isn't to say there aren't good PBTA games being written now — we'll be playing some of them in this unit — but, GOD. There is shit in this game that, hearing it from downstream, you would never know about. People should know about it! You, right now, should know about it! Go and play Apocalypse World right now! and also forever!!

[vierrel41n]

The way the dynamics between men and women are portrayed in popular media genuinely makes me so uncomfortable. I could talk about a lot of things

1. The “harmless nerd” trope

In which the man who is usually a social reject (like a nerd or just a quiet kid) engages in stalking and/or persistent pestering of the woman. Ex. Watching her with binoculars through windows, taking pictures without her permission, constantly making romantic advances towards her despite her clearly telling him NO, and so much more. And such behaviour are portrayed as sympathetic or not as creepy as they should be, why? Well he’s a nerd, there’s no way he could do any REAL harm! And in the end, the stalker is almost always rewarded for it in the end by “getting the girl”.

One thing I find really gross is how the movie will show the boys watching the girl in her home and for some reason they’ll have the girl performing strip tease for nobody in her own home?? Like she’s performing FOR the guys watching her and for the people watching the movie. You can obviously tell when the director is a man in these things.

An example of such behaviour is Leonard from the Big Band Theory. While he didn’t really stalk her he just wore her down until she finally agreed to date him. And another thing comes to mind was when they spoke about having kids and she told him she doesn’t want kids but he wasn’t happy about that. Eventually they did end up going through with it I just find it so weird and uncomfortable how the narrative constantly rewards him and all the other guys for their horrible behaviour.

2. The childish girl trope

Okay I think this is moreso a thing in anime but I really hate how the mannerisms, facial expressions, and even the voice of women in anime are meant to sound so akin to children? It’s so weird. And it’s even weirder how they sexualize it.

Like you’ll have girls who are explained by the narrative to be high school age to literal adults and you’ll have them acting like children and in the same way have 700 shots of them shaking their boobas everywhere and I personally think this is really weird. First of all, why can you only find them attractive or dateable if they look and act like a child 🤨? That is VERY odd! Looking at Toradora specifically. Secondly, is it IMPOSSIBLE for you to write a female character who actually acts like a human being? And for the male characters in their lives to treat them as such as well?

Even worse when you see how the male characters are portrayed compared to the women. Male characters are usually written to fit their actual age, they’re drawn to look their age, and others treat them like people too. They’re also usually taken more seriously in universe and by the fans. Girl characters on the other hand are portrayed in ways that are purposefully made to be appealing to guys which apparently means making them seem as young as possible??? And they’re often usually taken less seriously by the narrative and by the fanbase. Like I can’t count how many times I’ve seen guy characters peep at a female character or literally GROPE them and then the narrative plays it off as a joke. And more often than not, they face no repercussions and are also usually rewarded. I will expand on this in the next point.

This is why Studio Ghibli is superior.

You actually sometimes see things like this in western media too but I can’t think of any off the top of my head purely because I don’t watch a lot of TV anymore.

3. Women’s discomfort played off as jokes.

One of my favourite shoujo anime is Yumeiro Patissiere. I haven’t finished it yet but I do like it so far. HOWEVER there are a few scenes that genuinely made me so uncomfortable especially since this anime is marketed towards kids.

There was a scene in which the main character, Ichigo, goes with her classmates to deliver birthday cakes to some kindergarteners since it’s part of the school program. And while Ichigo is standing to the side watching as the kids get their cakes, a couple of the little boys (kindergarteners btw) flip up her skirt to peek. Obviously Ichigo is distraught by this and rightfully gets upset at them. Though the kids face no real repercussions, not even from their teacher who should tell them not to do stuff like that. And throughout the episode, the boys always refer to Ichigo as “strawberry panties” and make rude remarks to her regarding that.

Normally, I shouldn’t have to tell people that things like this are obviously morally wrong but I told someone online this since he kept on saying “it’s not a big deal” and after I said it, he replied “I’m not reading allat just don’t watch it then” 😐

Now such things are extremely common in anime and even in figurines of franchises where the woman is obviously distressed by someone trying to peek at her and it’s just seen as comedic or God forbid “hot”. And as usual, the perpetrator faces no repercussions.

An example I can think of in western media is in the Big Bang Theory where the guys made a robot thingy with a camera and Howard used it to peek up Penny’s skirt. All the guys were aware of it and all that was said about it was “you might wanna wear pants” or something idk. And then a laugh track. And when Penny finally goes off at Howard, as she should, somehow she’s in the wrong and Leonard comvinces her to apologize to him. Why should his fragile ego be prioritized over her literally being treated as a human being?

4. Sexualization of people who don’t want to be sexualized

I think this goes for most women generally though when I say this I mean women who are:

Police officers, nurses or doctors, veiling women like women who where hijabs or niqabs, nuns, flight attendants, firefighters for sole reason, even park rangers?

These are jobs in which women are constantly sexualized and harassed in workplace and society. Just search up “women’s police Halloween costume” or anything of the sort and see what’s there. You see it in films, in shows, everywhere.

But the one that really angers me are when women who dedicate themselves to modesty are sexualized. Like I said earlier, veiling women like hijabis and nuns. It’s the most disgusting and disrespectful thing ever. I see it more often with nuns. If they’re not depicted scary, they’re usually depicted as sexualized with outfits having slits in them or being body contour. Ugh it’s so gross. Literally nothing is off limits.

Don’t get me started on school girls. School uniforms are constantly sexualized in media and it’s genuinely worrying. Connecting this to my earlier point about how childish women are for some reason seen as more desirable, it’s concerning how much more women are portrayed as “sexy” the younger they appear in media. And it’s bleeding into real life too. I’ve seen plenty of stories where adults are disappointed when they find out the girl they’re talking to isn’t in middle school or something :(

Respectful portrayal of both genders really matters in media. Especially when a lot of media is catered towards children who are impressionable. People shouldn’t have to be told that things like this are also morally wrong in media as well but for some reason it needs to be said over and over.

I’ve left out quite a few things because this post would be too long if I kept going. But you can add onto the post if u want.

It’s late I’m gonna sleep gn.

[forest-of-stories]

Throwback Thursday, Fandom Edition: Sidetrasked

This is a collection of Silver Age X-Men comics that I’ve now owned for over two decades, and brought to Fan Expo Boston (then Boston Comic Con) in August 2014, hoping that artist Neal Adams would sign it.  

And this is the reason why.

When I tell people about Larry Trask today, I sometimes refer to him as "Blorbo From My Comics."  He is one of my favorite villains in the X-Men universe, and, at least for a time, was one of my favorite characters overall.  He also, at least for a time, embodied the anti-mutant bigotry that has been part of that universe almost since its beginning.  I want to avoid going on a tangent about the morality of villain fandom, and I resent the social obligation to attach an "I Hereby Acknowledge That My Fave Is Problematic" disclaimer to an exploration of how and why I liked a fictional character, but I also want to give people who don’t want to engage with any kind of love for such characters a chance to stop reading.  If you’re not inclined toward sympathy for an antagonist who makes terrible, destructive choices based on a lack of information and for what he thinks are the right reasons, and later has a tragic and redemptive ending (which might not actually be an ending; more on that further on) once he realizes what is going on, then this is not the character or the post for you.  And that’s fine.

Otherwise, I hope you're interested in reading a pretty long post.

Bolivar Trask, who originally created the giant mutant-hunting Sentinel robots, appears in almost every media adaptation of the X-Men.  What none of those adaptations have shown thus far is that both of his children were mutants.  Tanya’s time-travel abilities eventually stranded her in the far future, where she became known as Madame Sanctity and entangled with the extremely convoluted Summers family tree.  Her brother Larry could see the future, but their father created a very ostentatious Silver Age medallion that suppressed Larry’s powers and scrambled his memories so that he didn’t even know he had them.  When Bolivar was killed in a battle between the X-Men and the Sentinels, Larry blamed mutants everywhere, not realizing that he was one at first, and made the extremely smart and good decision (she said sarcastically) to create a bunch of new giant robots.  

I first read those comics in the early 2000s, when I was already drawn to characters who couldn’t trust their own memories, and to stories in which parents or authority figures manipulated or outright mind-controlled the young people in their care.   So the Trask family backstory appealed to me immediately, especially when I read a flashback issue that explored it in more detail.  

I was fascinated by the dramatic irony of a villain who trusted, adored, and committed atrocities to avenge, a father who continuously deceived and gaslit him "for his own good" (and also for the good of their giant robot plans).  I knew that there was a lot of material for fanfic in there, one way or another.

At the time, a couple of other significant things were happening in my fannish life.  Firstly, I was working on the Wallglass series, aka the Writing Project That Ate My Adolescence, in which a lot of my creative choices amounted to "let’s throw in this ingredient and see what happens." My decision to include Larry, not as a villain but as an ordinary teenager and love interest for one of my original characters, was no exception.  Although I eventually incorporated his precognitive powers into the story, that wasn’t necessarily the plan at first.  (X-Men: Evolution, the canon in which my big project nominally took place, did introduce the Sentinels, albeit in a different context than the one I chose.  I was already writing an AU simply by virtue of my OCs’ presence, but past a certain point, I diverged from continuity completely. One of my biggest regrets, of the many regrets that I have about that project, was not making Larry an active antagonist in the final installment of my series.)

As in canon, Bolivar Trask plotted to block his son’s mutant powers and memories of same, but unlike in canon, he outsourced the actual mental meddling.

The second important thing that happened during this time was that I started communicating regularly with the author of one of my favorite XME fanfics, which featured our OTP of Lance and Kitty.  She was reading my fic as I was reading hers, and at some point, we moved on from leaving each other comments (or “reviews” as we called them on fanfiction.net) to exchanging emails about our writing projects, our feelings about the current season of XME, and other things that were close to our fannish hearts.  We subsequently friended each other on LiveJournal, and later Facebook, and have mailed each other gifts and attended a convention together and remained friends to this day.

Back then, as she got to know my version of Larry Trask, I encouraged her to seek out the comics in which he first appeared.  Although he wasn’t the catalyst for our friendship, he did become another one of our shared obsessions, fueled in part by my personal conviction that we were The Fans Who Understood And Cared About Him The Most.  We informed each other whenever we caught a glimpse of Larry in comics or in fic; we once stayed up past midnight, chatting online about the issues of Avengers in which he sacrificed his life to stop the Sentinels from destroying humanity; and we devoted many, many more email and IM exchanges to discussing his narrative potential (which we recognized even if the people writing and adapting the comics apparently didn’t) and how else we might explore it in our own writing. 

My attempts to do just that, post-Wallglass, mostly amounted to scribbled drafts or outlines in various notebooks.

Sometimes I tried to explore Larry’s upbringing or the period in his life after his Sentinel project fell apart and he was dealing with more amnesia and more lies from someone he trusted; sometimes I made overly ambitious plans to integrate him into the Ultimate universe or back into XME. 

Trying to write about Larry was often as frustrating as it was fun: as one of the Fans Who Understood Him The Most (which is how I wanted desperately to be known, even as I was thrilled every time another writer, including a BNF in the X-Men movie fandom, included him in their fic), I felt obligated to Do Him Justice somehow, and was unreasonably frustrated with myself when I didn't feel like I'd managed to do so.

The term “Blorbo” didn’t exist when I wrote those entries, and I kind of wish it had; the fact that I was throwing around phrases like “fictional preoccupations” shows how much we needed a word that meant, roughly, “character with whom I am obsessed even if I don't have a crush on them, or am not sure whether I do or not.” If nothing else, using a silly nonsense word might have helped me take my creative angst a little less seriously.

Although I haven’t followed the comic books in years, X-Men is one of my forever fandoms. And although my attachment to Larry Trask, Blorbo From My Comics, became less pronounced over time (which is probably a good thing), I don’t think I’ve ever detached from it completely.  I haven't wanted to write fic about him in a very long time, but when a podcast (like Jay & Miles X-Plain the X-Men or Graymalkin Lane) mentions him, or when blogs like @summerstrash post about him, I always sit up and take notice.  And when I met Neal Adams at that Fan Expo ten years ago, I made sure to tell him how much I loved the character he’d helped to create.  He signed my book, as well as one that I bought for my longtime fandom friend.  When I learned that Adams passed away in 2022, I was immeasurably grateful for that experience, and I still am.

And now, based upon recent comics news, it turns out that Larry’s story isn’t over after all.

[my-mt-heart]

Les Caryl

Not wishful thinking. Not a ruse. Carol is coming back, and I’m grateful. Mainly, to Melissa McBride for everything she’s given us over the years and for everything she’s willing to give us in order to keep telling Carol’s story. It’s easy to see how much of her heart and soul has gone into this character, and I never want to take that for granted. We all have different reasons for loving Carol, but I think a lot of us draw inspiration from watching an underdog like her turn into the hero everybody needs. It’s been nice to see that mirrored in our fight over the past year to remind AMC how imperative she is to TWDU’s success. 

Whether you participated in blitzes, sent letters, spammed AMC’s/TWD’s social media accounts, or just kept Carol in the conversation on your own terms, you persevered just like she did and now you’re reaping the rewards just like she better will. It just goes to show that when people come together to support a female lead with as much talent and grace as Melissa, that and a little bit of hope can make a huge impact. 

For anyone who didn’t have hope or didn’t want to set themselves up for more disappointment, that’s more than fair. Maybe yesterday’s confirmation will give you something to look forward to again. Nothing is ever guaranteed, but if you find comfort in these characters, it’s perfectly okay to let yourself feel that too. Love what you love.

I know there are some who wanted Melissa to just walk away and leave Norman/AMC in the dust, but unlike Carol, she isn’t a fictional character. We aren’t entitled to her relationships with other people, so we just have to trust she knows how to navigate them on her own. Like I mentioned earlier, landing new roles comes with its own set of challenges regardless of one’s reputation or talent. Casting is a meat market and options for actresses over 35 are limited, especially when execs want to factor in their hair color (because how can they appeal to men 18-49 if they have gray hair 🙄) or their social media presence (because if they’re not active on Twitter, what audience will they bring 😑) All of this is to say, it’s perfectly reasonable for Melissa to choose another path, and no, it doesn’t mean she’s gritting her teeth while she does it. I’m comfortable believing she’s happy to co-lead Caryl’s show. I mean, you saw that smile, right?

I realize that at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to do right by someone we admire, which is tricky from our vantage point because it’s so easy to treat her like she belongs to us, and we have to keep reminding ourselves that she does not. I can’t speak for anyone else, but for me, the intention of campaigning in Melissa’s name was to leave the door open for her to come back on her own terms. If she’s getting everything she wants, if she’s being treated with the respect she deserves, then that’s a win in my book. If this whole ordeal motivates AMC to create a better work environment for all their female talent/employees going forward, even better. 

I know this isn’t news, but I’m still going to hold off on watching the show until Carol comes back and if that sounds biased, let me stop you right there. Let’s put aside the BTS fuckery for a second. Let’s ignore the fact that Carol and Melissa are the ones who got the short end of the stick and need my support the most right now. Not only does S1 sound unappealing to me, it actually hurts too much to think about the ways Daryl’s character has been used for personal gain rather than story integrity, which pretty much guarantees a retcon no matter how long it lasts or how drastic it is. His growth over the past 12 years was some of the best I’ve seen on any show let alone TWD, and I want to preserve the version of him I was drawn to in the first place, the version three out of four showrunners actually took the time to nurture. This version. If it’s all just a marketing ploy, trying to target Carylers’ biggest fears to relieve them later, well, I can’t support that either. Caryl fans have been put through enough over the years, especially in the last season, and I think it’s wrong to try to manipulate them into settling (and paying) for less than what they really wanted. 

Do I think we can still get something worthwhile in S2? Yes. I just don’t want to risk torturing myself to get there. Anyone who’s read my blog for a long time knows I would generally give the show the benefit of the doubt because I assumed the payoff would come sooner or later. Needless to say, it didn’t. I know why it didn’t and I hope those issues have been properly dealt with, but if I want to maintain that Caryl/Carol are important for viewership, then I need to watch and subscribe for Caryl/Carol. If I want Melissa to get the pay hike she deserves, then I need to tune in when she’s on my screen, not before. I do trust her judgement for what it’s worth, and I want to look forward to S2 provided there are no irreparable damages beforehand and TPTB put their audience first, meaning they deliver on the promises they made.

The biggest promise, UNAMBIGUOUS CANON, is crucial for story integrity, character growth, and representation. It shouldn’t be a huge undertaking when the chemistry can practically write itself. Daryl and Carol never have nor ever will need gimmicks to keep me invested. 

While we wait for Caryl to reunite, I hope the fandom can start to heal and get back to spreading endless love for one of the greatest ships on television. I’ll never stop mourning the loss of the spinoff we were supposed to have, and part of me still hopes we can get it back someday. But I’ll hope for the best on the show we’re getting right now. Caryl deserve it, Melissa deserves it, and the fans deserve it. 

[kinocomix]

devlog 19: parallel storytelling, Devlogs are not forever...

The script for TSTW is 21 chapters long. I estimate we’ve reached the point where it kicks into high gear, given the (hopefully) plentiful space i’ve put in to get to know the characters. when draft 1 is done, i’ll be sending it off to my beta readers who’ll let me know the inevitable places where I left things unexplained. but for now it’s moving along well.

Today we’re changing gears slightly. we’re veering away from the world of granular storytelling and instead taking a look at narratives that shine in their simplicity. Last week we talked about figuring out the inventory our characters have in order to determine how they would solve a given problem. this week, we’re figuring out the deal with these two:

Let’s talk about children’s books.

regardless of what age group you’re from, chances are you have a book you were fond of as a kid. for a lot of people it’s something like the hungry hungry caterpillar, or maybe if you’re my brother you’re fond of the french series “Meche au vent” and “Martine” 

There is something to be said about how the books you read as a kid influence you as an adult, and that’s why I’m doing this. In the story, Killouette has a book she really likes. Obviously, we need to make that book if we’re going to show it in the story. I love doing this- it’s called mise en abyme and it refers to when there’s a story within the confines of another story. I think it adds a lot of character and life to what’s being said if you bother to put as much effort into the side missions as you do the main quest. Originally i had drawn the image as an unrelated thing, having recently acquired two plushies that I thought looked great together: 

and… that’s that right? 

right?

so anyways the little lulu show is an animation series produced in canada that aired in 1995 through 1998, based on the comic strip little lulu by Marjorie Henderson Buell.

the arabic dub of the show, very popular among older folk made the rather curious decision to name the show after Lulu and her best friend which is something that gets acquired in translation i would suppose, but works really well for us because then we can name our two characters Loulou and taboush without worrying about copyright, because another company called studio 100 now owns it after having acquired one of the three companies that made the show and god forbid anyone is allowed to have any fun in this awful ecosystem of companies buying each other like stock. 

But yeah, why am I making a children’s book inside another book? well mainly cause i want to, and if everyone is going to reject publishing my books i may as well have fun making them and be experimental. when I spoke about the camera being focused on killouette and her feelings, that’s great but this comes with an unintended side effect: the clarity with which my characters usually voice certain ideas isn’t there anymore. This isn’t the worst thing in the world, not every piece of media needs to have a message behind it. A decent chunk of stories exist out there because they’re fun and for no other reason.

Regardless, one of the ideas at play is the notion of problems being about perception more than they are solutions. we’re applying this specifically to how someone views themselves, so here’s what i came up with:

The story centers around Tabbouch, a stuffed elephant who has lost the button that’s usually attached to his stomach. The exact event that led to him waking up with the button missing is deliberately blurred and the question left unanswered, because that’s the problem that we’re trying to perceive differently, and I think it would be a bad idea bloating such a short story with things that aren’t relevant. Tabbouch is greeted by his friend loulou, a small fairy that looks like a bear and she suggests doing a couple of activities that aren’t going to vibe well with tabbouch cause at this point tabbouch is still really sad about his button being missing. tabbouch leaves loulou and runs into a friend of his who feels down. after cheering them up,   tabbouch sees that the world around him is very pretty, feels good about that and by extension himself, concluding that although he still does want to find his button, he can still live without it. 

it really doesn’t need to be more complicated than that. no one needs to know why the plushies are sentient or why they conveniently have small stoves… I say this mostly for me. the life of a chronic tryhard is difficult, don't judge me. What's important is that it mirrors what the kids in our story need to do. They have long term problems they can’t immediately address, so the solution is to see the problems immediately in front of them a little bit differently. with that out of the way, we can talk about the thing that makes children’s books shine…

the         I   L   L   U   S   T   R   A   T   I   O   N   S

so it should be no secret at this point that I don’t really stick to any one way of drawing:

this one is how i did all of almost home, real ink with digital colors

this one is just linework with a fountain pen

watercolor:

image editing/glitching

special shoutout to MS paint:

there’s more but I don't want to put my entire portfolio in here so we’ll move on. This is good for me because I have the flexibility of figuring out how I want to show these images. I’ll have to fuck around and find out, but off the top of my head here’s a couple of things i’d like to try:

any of the above

scanning the inked linework and coloring the linework itself digitally (maaybe adding large flat areas of color? limited color palette?) 

good old watercolor. I can't go wrong with that.

digital rendering with textures (this could allow us to use halftones for example, but comes with the risk of overdoing it. closest example is the very first image in this post)

paper cutouts mixed with real images

I like the idea of having each page be a linocut print, but i don’t have access to that, and i’d need to look into woodblock printing.

for the most part, i’ve figured out most of the stuff that i wanted to for killouette. so the next devlogs won’t be called “devlogs”... they’ll just be called updates. This is because beyond now I don't think I'll have anything too substantial to share since I'll basically be writing and doing set designs. I’d still like to post on Tuesdays, we’ll see.

Updates on tuesdays.

[wyrtig]

(same anon as before) No prob, I'll just post what I wanted to talk about here.

I'm trying to write a fic with KvZ as the focus and you depict him so well with your art, I kinda want to ask for your opinion on him and Genshin and their relationship (huge GnKnt shipper here) just to get a different perspective and more depth into what you think of them. I love how you portray them both and I'd appreciate hearing what you think.

Also as an amateur artist, if you could give me any art tips about drawing like you do, especially with all the symbolism and metaphors, I'd really appreciate it.

That's all, thanks, and sorry if I bothered you!

vvv

Thank you! But you give me too much credit. I’ve mostly just drawn variations of the two standing in the dark [gestures to img below]. Admittedly, I haven’t thought too deeply about their relationship beyond Klimt’s mental decline (and how that affected the people around him) and their final duel. But if it’s anything, I view them both as impulsive and emotional. I don’t really have a solid opinion on the matter of their marital status. Sorry, I just enjoy seeing guys who are doomed by the narrative be self destructive and tear their lives apart 🤷‍♂️

As for art tips— I don’t know how experienced you are, but regardless of skill level, you should have a good grasp on the fundamentals (eg: values, proportion, perspective, line quality, etc.). Once you have a handle on the basics, drawing from life, doing master copies, photo studies, etc. helps further develop and hone your skills.

I don’t have any good resources explaining things, but search around; there's plenty of free art learning resources online. I’ve heard good things about Proko on youtube. It's also good to look at artists of different styles, mediums, and eras. That way, you can learn from analysing their techniques and you can develop a style of your own.

A small word of advice— if you're still a beginner, don't get too caught up on the details and on complex techniques. Those things will come in due time (or if you want to push yourself, but I don't really recommend force. you should enjoy creating art). Beautifully rendered art with unintentional poor proportions and composition sticks out like a sore thumb (unless you don't mind, then you do you).

Explaining my creative process is tough since most of it just kind of happens, so I’m sorry if this comes out incomprehensible. For me, when it comes to symbolism, it’s basically analysing the character and what situation you want them in and honing in on specific ideas. Let’s use these pieces for example:

Kazuma has an association with snakes because his family crest represents snake eyes. Here, I’m using the snake to symbolise his hatred, which stems from his father's death. On the left, he wields it. He's seemingly calm and under control. The snake is ready to strike. To the right, his hatred spirals and nearly consumes him. It's the demon inside him 🤓

Besides the obvious of what happens in their story, some things you can draw from is how a character presents themselves, perspectives, occupation, hobbies, personal effects, cultural/religious/societal/etc. background, conflicts, era/location, etc. But other than that, symbolism can be incorporated in smaller, subtler ways, like the way someone holds a bottle, how an article of clothing is worn, and the like. Watching movies/tv, reading comics, and other media helps. Pay attention to how the director/author frames and lights things 👍

(side note: karuma is a recurring symbol in tgaac)

Not sure if anything I wrote here is of help, but yeah

[katagawajr]

10 Characters | 10 Fandoms | 10 Tags!

(tagged by @babeoffrontiers thank you!!! 🫶)

i think other than the number one spot, none of these are in any particular order. but yes let's begin.

Caleb Widogast (Critical Role). undisputed favorite character in any piece of media, he’s my entire world. literally a perfect narrative story, an emotional character exploration of grief and found family and time itself. profoundly sad man but also filled with so much silly sweetness that makes the sadness even MORE painful. he's a friend, he's a lover, he's a pining man, he's of the empire but not a friend to the empire. he's MY boy, he's a magic man, he's trying to be the man his parents believed he could be. i can cry (and have cried) about him for hours on end but i’m not making this list any longer. ("hi caleb... how are you doing today?" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH)

Gale Dekarios (Baldur’s Gate 3). omg another sad wizard? sorry i have a type. wyll also belongs on this list but i’m hopelessly drawn to gale so i have to pick him. mama’s boy? cat dad? big wet eyes, a little suicidal and extremely devoted? i don’t know that i’ve clutched my heart harder than when i saw his act 2 romance scene for the first time. i think it also just pulls at my heartstrings that his relationship with tav is so showing of his kindness regardless of whether or not you romance him. even platonic gale is so ;-;

Ann Takamaki (Persona 5). i fought about putting yusuke or ryuji or even zenkichi but this spot has to go to ann because she's just so. perfect. the first arc of p5 is the BEST hands down and she's literally one of the biggest reasons why. the writers end up ruining her but the way she grows even in that first arc... her confidant scene with the line "i'm just a lonely, scared girl..." BREAKS ME. she's a treasure, she's strong and kind and wants to be a light for others while not giving up on the things that make her 'girly.' and her love for ryuji as best friends is one of my favorite dynamics ever.

Artemis (Hades). i love artemis in general, i grew an attachment during my greek mythology kid phase and never let go so i'm obsessed with every iteration of her in media. but artemis in hades has my favorite visual design in the game combined with her quiet sweetness :') and her willingness to have a family bond with zagreus because she's also an outcast who's overwhelmed by her other family members. and then to be a total badass of a goddess, ugh love her.

Katagawa Jr. (Borderlands). okay this one is funny because i honestly love katagawa as an OC more than canon... like canon treated him pretty badly and if it was based on that alone then august tftbl would be in this spot. but the POTENTIAL... ohhh the potential... youngest son born into the highest echelon of one of the most powerful companies in the galaxy, but to CEO parents who see them only as property?? and puts barcodes on the back of their necks?? and katagawa jr being the desperately lonely, attention-seeking son? don't get me started on him and naoko... genuinely my OC now. i took him from canon.

Julian Devorak (The Arcana). this one always embarrasses me to talk about because it's like a romance visual novel game. so let's make it quick. but julian is unironically such a good character, i'm a sucker for the way he loves his little sister more than anything in the world. also for being a silly pirate plague doctor who wants to help people, blames himself for a past he can't even remember, and trips over his own heels being so madly in love. the outfit and eyepatch too, 10/10.

Crona Gorgon (Soul Eater). the definition of 'nonbinary baby' LMAO- but seriously, i instantly fell in love with their design when i first watched. one of the best ever, including ragnarok's design being a part of them. being so powerful but so pained, just such a sad soul and it's so interesting to watch them on screen. i love a character that seems silly and awkward and then also can turn very scary/cool. brief shoutout to stein though, i almost put him on here instead because his design and fighting style are just peak >>

Mad Maggie (Apex Legends). my first ever apex love was horizon, but idk when maggie came out i just fell in love with her personality? she's SO funny to me. i also love her and fuse's backstory, and i think her tough attitude but capability of being kinda sweet as well is cute (although i genuinely just adore her as a mean character too. let women be meaner. she's funny and hot about it). her kit is also very fun even though i'm bad with it, i love riot drilling halfway across the map when i play her. her voice is 10/10 and even her theme music is banger.

Undyne (Undertale). undertale still has one of the greatest narratives in all of gaming history and i will die happily on that hill. sorry. undyne was always my girl, her being the badass knight (that everyone assumes is some scary guy), her theme music is still one of THE best video game songs ever. her design is amazing, finding out that she's papyrus's friend and that she's in love with alphys, her backstory with asgore. all amazing character beats. and that's not even mentioning the genocide run... "for the sake of the whole world... I, UNDYNE, WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN." ugh.

Prince Canute (Vinland Saga). gah i haven't even watched season 2 yet because i'm terribly behind. BUT. oh my god, i think canute's monologue in the snow in season 1 actually fundamentally changed my brain???? and the way that i think??? like i felt something crack within me. i actually gave a talk about that exact scene in an animation class i had once. anyways i loved watching him on screen and watching him change... watching him be so sad... not to mention his design is just very very pretty. can't wait to see my best friend canute in s2 i'm sure nothing bad will happen right.

tagging: @magnuficentwo @aliensmoothie and anyone else who wants to do it if you feel like it, no obligation :) i'm bad at the tagging part of tag games sorry!

[oswildin]

The Pedro TikTok Craze…

Warnings: Mentions of sexualisation, parasocial relationships and 18+ themes

I just watched a video by Kuncan Dastner on YouTube called ‘I hate how fast we Objectify Celebrities’.

It discusses the recent flurry of fans of Pedro Pascal and how the media and TikTok/Twitter users have quickly objectified and overtly sexualised him.

As a newer Pedro stan, (TLOU was my Pedro awakening), it makes me uncomfortable seeing the vast amount of comments and edits online regarding the man. Don’t get me wrong, most edits I see are benign and more appropriate, however, there’s been a few I’ve come across using a certain scene of Pedro from Narcos that really makes me feel… Icky. As well as comment sections being filled with inappropriate words and almost verging on sexual harassment.

It’s one thing to find a celebrity attractive… It’s another to write out a detailed comment saying what you would do to them, or how you want them to do such and such to you. The ‘Daddy’ comment clearly started as a joke, but with the sexual connotation surrounding the word, it has quickly taken off into a whole new obscure direction. I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with calling a celebrity ‘daddy’, or ‘mommy’, if they haven’t stated they don’t like it, but using it in any other relation other than ‘they’re attractive and I love them’ personally makes me feel uneasy… So I often wonder how those celebrities must feel.

Another thing I’ve noticed is the VAST amount of smutty fanfics surrounding Pedro’s characters (or even him himself). Whilst I am not against smut, it is disheartening to go to certain tags and see that that is all that is taking them up. Maybe i’m just a prude. This isn’t me ‘coming for’ any writers who do specialise in smut writing (hats off to you, could never be me), or those who read the fics, that isn’t my point. It’s just crazy to me that the majority of fics out there regarding Pedro & his characters ARE smut.

I think the line between the celebrity and the fan has become so blurry that it’s hard to know what it means to love a celebrity. I go through multiple fixations (love that ND trait), of loving certain celebrities and characters that eventually chop and change. Hell, I’ve had/have crushes on Tom Hiddleston, Matt Smith, Benedict Cumberbatch, Oscar Isaac, Sacha Dhawan… Pedro Pascal… But I’ve never seen a craze quite like the one with Pedro recently.

Interviewers constantly asking Pedro the same questions (which unfortunately is just the media industry, they usually don’t do their research and tend to go in with questions given to them), about ‘how does it feel to be the internet daddy?’, ‘why do you think so many people love you?’, ‘what do you think about the tiktok edits?’ And so on… It must become tiresome and overwhelming. Whilst the recent clip of the interviewer asking Pedro to read thirst tweets didn’t come across as him being uncomfortable, he did deny reading them out. Maybe it was because it was a Disney premiere, or maybe it was something else. But I think that’s where the line should be drawn. Having interviewers show these human beings sexual comments strangers have been writing about them on the internet (unless they have specifically agreed or consented to reading them).

I don’t know, maybe I’m rambling and being too touchy. But I know if I was in Pedro’s shoes, I think I would start to become a little uncomfortable with the amount of attention my physical appearance was getting rather than my work. I’m not saying don’t appreciate his appearance, or have little fantasies to yourself, but I think there’s a point where it becomes too… real, when it’s publicly shared online. Let alone shown to him on a red carpet.

The man is a heartthrob, and he deserves every bit of attention he gets for his work and character, but can we please agree that boundaries exist and think ‘would I like someone to say or think this about me?’

[skenekidz]

Hey! Just saw this so sorry for the late response but wanted to respond. I am the “Unpopular Opinions” Person btw

OBVIOUSLY all the respect is meant. You are a genius <3 love your work, this is just some commentary

- Brennan IS a worse person than Killian because Killian really… doesn’t have THAT much agency in his life. Idk maybe I’m being too soft on him but I’ve always emphasized w/ children who make bad/objectively ambiguous decisions as the result of a turbulent life. Therefore, where Killian and Brennan made the SAME level of bad choices, Killian was genuinely a good person who was just trying to be a teenager/live his life in this “Fish out of Water” scenario he was put in. Brennan, meanwhile, came off like he had A LOT more agency and… strength, so to speak, not only in his own life but who he was in general. Therefore it’s a lot harder to excuse him for the stupid shit he puts himself in (like involving himself w/ the Principal’s son AND getting drawn into the bad/rebellious crowd, etc.). Therefore, Brennan is a worse person because generally those people (the reckless people who know they can make different, better choices and CHOOSE NOT TO), don’t tend to make the BEST decisions for their loved ones as well. Like I could see Brennan pulling some real dick behavior and causing shit for the people he cares for. Meanwhile, Killian? I highly doubt it. It’s the difference between “all bark but no bite” (Killian) and vice versa. One is just better.

- I agree on that! I’m just saying that IRL, the friends that stick will stick around. No amount of distance can TRULY crush any friendship. No doubt. Meanwhile… him relying on his friends as his family? Idk. There’s a difference between “My friends are my family” and “my friends can replace my family.” One is a MASSIVE cope and the other is just having close platonic/non-traditional family relationships. I still say Ireland would’ve given him time to grieve, properly, and become a more stable/stronger person. Just because something is harder to do doesn’t mean it’s the wrong choice.

- They are healthier!! You’re so right. And yeah, Staz and Ethan are similar but not the same people BUT… Will ALWAYS gave me the wrong vibes. I don’t vibe w/ hypocrites, and he is a MASSIVE one, considering him and Jude are EXTREMELY alike (Will just have the advantage of not having a horrible relationship w/ his Mother, otherwise I GUARANTEE he would’ve made similar if not the same choices). HOWEVER, the dynamics are EERILY similar. Two soft boys from subtly troubled homes change the perspective of two much more damaged, aggressive boys? Yeah, apologies if this wasn’t the correct read in the slightest, but both couples sort of gave me those vibes tbh. Although not ENTIRELY, clearly, as they are both complex enough to not be carbon copies (I realized this might’ve been insulting and so sorry if it is. I’m not trying to say that at all, they just follow the same TROPES.)

- You were an EXCELLENT writer (I mean your characters than were ten times more complex than mine are NOW), I just think the plot needed the characters to do what it needed them to do and there wasn’t a lot of time for diversions. Also, it really isn’t your fault if they were “a nightmare.” Hollywood/etc. LOVES the dysfunctional friendships. Just look at Riverdale! White Lotus (if you need a more updated example)! Gossip Girl! Literally any superhero movie. It’s just more fun for friends to sort of hate each others guts, unfortunately. ESPECIALLY in Young Adult media. Benji is still a bad friend to Ethan and Gideon tho… I will DIE on this hill (plus Sonnet and Ethan are the platonic soulmates we never got to see).

And that’s it! Thank you so much for your time!! I hope I never veered into disrespectful or rude while writing this. I feel like I did at multiple points so if I have, I am extremely sorry, clearly not my intention. I have a HUGE amount of respect to you and obviously, these are tour books, I just was curious to see if you would hate these tbh. All the love <3 Have a great day/evening!!!!

Cheers :)

This was super respectfully worded and I really appreciate the perspective! As the writer, it's sometimes hard for me to imagine how things can be interpreted differently than I intend, so I appreciate these kinds of honest perspectives. It gives me a lot to consider when writing in the future! Thanks for sharing! :)

[motleyfam]

What other found families / parent-child character dynamics do you enjoy reading about besides batfam? ☺️

Oh man, I mean… honestly any? Like that’s the relationship dynamic I’m always most drawn to in any form of media—particularly when it’s adopted/found family vs. bio fam (with the exception of Supernatural back in the day—I could read gen Sam & Dean fics all day).

In DC, I like flashfam stuff sometimes, though I’m not nearly as immersed in that fandom as I am in Batfam. I LOVE Shazam (2019) fics—that whole movie was like a found family treasure trove tbh. Young Justice, the cartoon, for found family too. And I read Titans (2018) stuff when I can find non-romantic hurt/comfort because I’m a sucker for a good rag tag crew.

For Marvel, I used to be super into reading/writing irondad, and I’ll still check the tag from time to time. Also unironically love a good 2012 Avengers Tower fic. Big Hero 6 is another one I dip into sometimes— I’ve been really into the animated series lately and the fics that come out of that—mostly hurt/sick Hiro and the team taking care of him.

For Fox 9-1-1, anything involving Buck Whump + the team acting as family/caretaker is my jam, but I struggle to find stuff in that fandom that’s gen. (I’ve got nothing against Buddie—I think it’s a great ship—I’m just as a rule more interested in platonic and familial ships than romantic ones.)

I love The Outsiders and sometimes go scour Ao3 to see if there’s any new hurt/comfort content. It’s not the most active fandom (considering the book came out in 1967 lol) but sometimes there a gem!

I also used to read a lot of Snape & Harry enemies-to-mentor-to-family fics and Marauders era fics for the HP fandom.

Basically, my jam is a probably-traumatized youth in desperate need of comfort, and a vaguely Dad-shaped (but usually non-blood related) father figure who comes to realize he cares more about this kid than he was expecting to 🥰

[thedetectiveofinaba]

1. When are you usually online?

I’m usually online during evenings and/or afternoons most active during either the late afternoon, evening or late at night my time. This does cause me to miss most activity & squeeze hours from later hours bc smh why do most ppl I write with have to be from States -

2. What verses are you involved in outside of this page?

My multimuse side blog (with the url @multiplelivesinline​). It’s multi-fandom even though Pokemon seems to dominate there atm, if I decide to write or test any other muse than Naoto I’m likely to add them instead of another single muse blog. Side blogs have their own small headaches but they’re easy enough to deal w/ for now since it’s mostly followed by people who are mutuals with me or specific fandom folks (Pkmn RPC).

3. What is your biggest RP pet peeve?

Not reading people’s rules before they’re following or lurking. This especially goes for personal blogs, with whom I’ve had several headache inducing situations. One other pet peeve I have is not having backbone to say that your muse isn’t always canon or that you have a ship bias: if your muse is bi/straight even though canon says otherwise don’t claim that they’re canon compliant. People will only feel lied to when they find out later that your muse is closer to a hc-based and that can lead to bad outcomes.

4. Are you drawn to specific types of muses?

Either calm, cool and collected muses who are using their first impression as a facade of sorts or muses who care too much on what others think or try to be the Hero Who Can Save Everyone. My gender bias seems to be on ladies even though one of my biased muses is Gladion from Sun/Moon, the edgelord brooding side cast whose backstory is sth what shook me at first but gave me reasons to care on him. One day I’m using his AU verse for BSD more.

5. Are there recurring themes in your writing that people might not notice?

The theme of how there can be darkness and failure in your life but it’ll always pass due time and how there’s small momemts of joy in life. It’s how I tend to see hurt/comfort or angst used for the best end goals and my personal mantra in life. Time heals all wounds, even though it might take months never give in or think that it’s worthless to even try. There is always a way and people to help you along the way, depressive shit or moments of desperation will exist but you will always survive through.

6. What are your favorite RP trends?

Slice of life stuff what is focused on small joys of life in middle of a greater storyline, character dynamics studies and how they fluctuate + the trend of opposites attract. In Naoto’s case it’s the concept of her personal growth during P4 and after it & how she’s not the most extrovert type piques my interest. and the gradual realization on why media Hell is a bad place to end up in. She hates that part of her career the most. 

The character dynamic is something I noticed later on the AUs what have a Naoto who isn’t too opposed to chaotic behavior/her temperament or ego taking over her rationality more. It’s thrilling to write the contrast what works fluently without any big hassle: Especially Michiru (1/4 angel!AU) has been a clear sign on how her type is an extrovertish person who can do things you wouldn’t assume from them or an anomaly. 

7. What is your process for starting a new story with someone?

A starter call and/or plotting calls continued with Tumblr IMs are an easiest entryway for starting a thread I want to plot. Another option is for me to send an ask and approaching you in IMs if I get an idea I 100 % want to do. I don’t personally do open RP posts and want clear plans so neither party will have an unpleasant experience. 

8. How do you feel about duplicates?

Duplicates are cool, and a neat thing to exist. I’m not chasing them away w/ a pitchfork. I can’t ofc assume that my girl will 100 % vibe with them automatically but if that happens assume me to throw an idea for a sibling/twin AU or multiverse interactions at some point. (Also if you get any ideas you’re welcome to go to IMs to plot around that & talk OOC stuff, I’m not the most outward person ever to exist & am likely to say hi back.)

9. How long have you been involved in roleplaying?

For about 5 and half years. I started this as an extension of my already existing writing hobby for own stories with OCs when my online friend enabled me to go for it and discovered pretty quickly that even though my Naoto was crappy at first I really enjoyed this & wanted to continue even though I had a rough patch at first. 

10. Is there a muse or verse you wish you could write in, but haven’t?

I’ve had the small interest to try writing Atsuro Kihara from DeSu for some time, probably the only thing stopping me is the lack of energy to sink hours to a JRPG to see if I have enough inspiration for that. The other character who I have memed on is writing Kanji or Yumi from P4. If I write Yumi though, I am deleting the forced romance BS. No forced romance paths, we delete their existence like based people who want fluent romances.

Tagged by: @fatexbound​

Tagging: Steal it from me if you want to ^_~