#this is my second try on kind of drawing lifeless art

[tok1yom1]

Poor spammy

[gay-trashcan-cat]

how the fuck do you infuse so much personality into your doodles. are you pulling a fnaf and putting human souls in them?? if so, could you tell me how to do it?

ok first off, THANK YOU? got me going teehee blink blink face. Didn't expect to have an art question but I'm very glad, it's my first one so I'll answer to the best I can!

When it comes to personality in drawings (assuming your talking about characters), I often like to think about my characters as friends or someone you know. Often times I'm just saying to myself, "OH! Character would definitely react like this or say this!" (like how you would say your friend would do something unique only to them in a silly situation) Stepping into you characters' shoes or viewing them as a buddy can help you apply and do a bunch!

Though I do understand that you can know a ton about a character but still struggle on what to apply to a drawing with them in it!

There are a few things I tend to do and add when it comes to drawings!

First off is expression, putting some extra thought into expressions can really help add more to your character. Especially pushing expression! (Won't go too deep with expression because that's a whole other can of beans)

My silly goofy cat is a real happy and loud guy, so a simple smile won't always cut it! Really pushing that joy and loudness helps add more to him as a character!

Another thing you may have noticed in the drawing is how I added some (very silly looking) arms to the surface he was near! This moves on to the next thing I often do. Body language! (Which could also be seen as, gesture/posing)

Though relatively the same expression (note the eyes size difference makes the first doodle look more aware/awake, that just shows expression can change even with the slightest difference, this was accidental though), the change of the pose adds story to the character. The first drawing comes off as a more plain hello, while the second drawing adds more excitement and characterization to the goofy guy! As we see how he waves his hand quickly with joy while his left foot taps up with energy, most likely meeting up with a friend! All this movement also makes your characters look less stiff and lifeless.

I also like to add my own stylistic ways of movement or little reaction marks, I'm not too sure what to call them exactly tho (what I mean are the extra colored bits around the character below, they dont always need color though).

This is just a nice way to add more flavor to a drawing! And you can always experiment, or mix and match to see what you like.

Another thing I do is try to imagine scenarios or scenes that would work well with what I have in mind. To get to that point I'm often writing it down or doing thumbnails and lil roughs before I actually make my sketches that I post (insider secrets right here!).

(Here's an example of my drafting process with poses and expressions for this ask I did a while ago, yes it is cursed so read at ur own cost❤ )

Another thing would be textures, you often see me switching colors and brushes, even software's as I draw! that's why every doodle feels a little different, which I feel helps give off different ideas and emotions (or laziness who knows).

Some other factors that play into the "personality" of my drawings is the reactions, with cause and effect. Which has actions that make a new reaction for each character (or even object) that is exaggerated. Like someone making a disgusted face to someone vomiting, even a cat knocking a cup over, or a cat getting scared by a glass breaking (this could also just be a continuation of the last statement). Possibly even the IRS coming for you after evading your taxes and you having to jump out the window.

I mainly use this for comics! But you could do this in a single drawing, I like to have a moment kind of frozen in place either after or in the middle of an action (sorta lets your brain imagine the in-betweens). Though when it comes to exaggerating your reactions or causes, it takes some practice and imagination, so don't be discouraged if it takes some trial and error to get the hand of it! Honestly I'm still practicing too.

Other things that help me put some more life into my drawings is well... life itself! lots of interactions, faces, and poses are based on things I've seen in real life, from watching people (while in the bushes).

Though that isn't the only thing! I also use what I see in media, or photos! even some shows and movies, since there are so many good scenes or frames that can be used as great inspiration!

lastly, yes I do put human souls in my drawings, as well as sacrifice some squirrels here and there to my Elmo shrine, but thats not tooo important right?

[duckymcdoorknob]

Slight emergency request

I just broke my 27 day streak of s/h, feeling guilty abt it..is it okay if I ask for Yams, Tsukki and tendou comforting their s/o abt it,, like they figure it out themselves and confront the reader. Sorry if it’s too much ,,

No issue!

So sorry for the delay, I hope you’re doing much better now.

Just remember, one relapse does not define your progress!

What I do when I get those kinds of thoughts, I draw fake tattoos on myself from all of my favorite animes.

I also love to write Kanji for meaningful phrases all over my arms and legs. I’m thinking of getting some done in the future!

CW BELOW THE CUT: S3lf H4rm.

𝑇𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑖 𝑌𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑖

Tadashi knew that you had entered a rough patch almost immediately.

The way you replied to him changed

Your usual starry-eyed smiles changed to ones with lifeless eyes.

He was so distraught in trying to help you; you just didn’t ask him though, and it broke his heart.

One fateful afternoon, before practice, he had seen you exiting the restroom, seating yourself on a bench in the court yard.

He happily bounded over to you, a beaming smile on his face.

“Good morning, (Y/N)!”

You looked up to your boyfriend with a genuine grin, “Morning, ‘Dashi.”

“How’s your day going so far? Feeling any better?” He wasted no time plopping next to you, pulling out two granola bars, and handing you one.

“It’s been okay.” You said with a faux cheerfulness, “Things seem to be turning around for me.”

“That’s fantastic!” He cooed, unwrapping his snack and taking a tiny bite, “You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

Acting as a lead anchor, the guilt smacked into you. You couldn’t help but tremble as tears welled in your eyes.

“So, I was thinking that maybe we could go to the art gallery later. How does that s- (Y/N)?”

Within a second, he was kneeling in front of you, taking hold of one of your hands.

His thumb rubbed along the base of your own, touches soft as rain.

“My love, you don’t have to pretend for me.” He whispered with a sweet gentleness, “If you aren’t doing okay, you can always tell me truthfully.”

Your shaking figure only broke down further, completely letting loose and sobbing. “I-im such a liar, ‘Dashi.”

Yamaguchi began to rub up and down your arms in an attempt to make you feel better. As his fingers moved along your forearms, he noticed your repetitive wincing.

“Oh! Sorry.” Honey I-“ he turned your arm upward and pinched your sleeve with two fingers, trying to move it up.

“Don’t.” you cut him off in a labored whisper, eyes widening in fear.

He sighed, wearing a patient smile. “Is it safe to assume I’ll find what I think I will?”

You nodded shamefully into his shoulder, unable to formulate any other response.

“That’s okay.” He replied softly, “Let’s head home.”

“But you have-“

“I can skip.”

You sighed and broke out of the hug, meeting his eyes with your teary ones. “Tadashi…”

“I always have time for you. This isn’t your fault, and I want to make sure you understand that. Nothing that you do or say can keep me from ensuring your safety. But it doesn’t matter what I have to do, I’ll make sure you’re okay.” He rose to his feet and offered you his arm.

You stood up, sniffling, carefully linking your own arm with his.

Upon arrival, you and Tadashi settled on the couch to watch your favorite movie. He held you with a gentle tightness, only enough to make you feel secure.

“So, let’s address the elephant in the room.” Yamaguchi started quietly, “I want you firstly to know that I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you for something like this.”

“I know I said that I would do better, I know I promised you but I couldn’t help myself…” you admitted sadly.

“This doesn’t define you.” He said, interwinding his fingers with yours. “One little mishap isn’t going to completely derail your progress. Recovery is so difficult, and you’ll always need someone. I’ll be here with you no matter what. Good days, and bad.”

You turned and nuzzled into his chest, his arms coming down to hold you close to him.

“My sweet love, you never have to hide from me again. Okay?” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

With a gentle nod, you relaxed.

𝐾𝑒𝑖 𝑇𝑠𝑢𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑎

Fighting with Kei was never a fun experience. It was always over something so small and inconvenient, and both of you always agreed it never mattered.

But when you had already hit a rough patch, and fought with him, everything seemed to hit worse.

One afternoon, you and him were at his house after school. You had opened up about something that was bothering you, and he turned it into a lecture.

He spat a comment that you couldn’t handle, so you ran off to the restroom and locked the door.

“(Y/N)! Wait!” He cried, “dammit!” he hissed to himself. He knocked hastily on the door, begging for you to come out.

Eventually his frantic knocking slowed, and he sat with his back to the door. “(Y/N), love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was more upset at the person who wronged you and I just-“

“don’t worry about it. i’m okay.” You mumbled through the door.

“(Y/N) I know you better than you think I do; you are not okay. Please open the door.” He turned his body, pressing his forehead to the door and placing his palm on it.

“I-I can’t open it.” Your voice sounded as if it had a sudden meekness to it.

“(Y/N), sweetheart, stay where you are. I’m going to get you out okay?”

You sniffled, barely choking out an “okay.” as you lay on the cold floor.

In the deafening silence, the only things you heard were Tsukishima’s pounding footsteps around his house, and your labored breaths.

Eventually, the lock clicked, and you heard your boyfriend’s audible relief.

“I’m going to come in. Are you decent?” He asked.

You can only mumble out an “mhm” as you tug quickly at your sleeve to get it to fall. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sudden wave of pain that erupts on your arm.

The door opens to reveal your boyfriend examining a quarter in between his thumb and forefinger. He pondered in a tiny voice, “I’m not sure if being able to open my locks with a quarter is useful or dangerous…”

His eyes fell on you shortly after, making his heart shatter into pieces.

You were avoiding his gaze, leaning uncomfortably against the sink. You were trembling slightly, sniffling every few seconds.

“(Y/N) im sorry…” his voice was low as he carefully kneeled next to you, “I never should have done what I did. I was so upset that you were hurting, and now it seems I’ve only hurt you worse.”

You slowly turned to face him, wincing from the pain in your arms.

“Sweetheart are…” Tsukishima seemed to have just seen a ghost. His voice was quavering as he asked you the most important question of your lives, “D-did I do this?”

Your eyes widened in panic, your head whipping to the left.

Damnit. You chose not to put that sleeve down since it was hurting so bad. You just forgot to hide it when your lover came in the room.

“I’m- no! Y-you didn’t. I’m… I’m sorry.” you choked out as sobs overcame you, “I’m so sorry, Kei I- I didn’t- I don’t-“

He pulled your shaking figure close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms, “I’m not mad, I’m not disappointed, I’m not going to yell.” His tone was soft as snow, words soothing you instantly, “Let’s get this patched up, okay?”

You nodded softly as you continued to cry into his shoulder. Tsukishima held you gently, resting his chin on your head and rubbing your back softly.

“I know this isn’t something that we fix overnight, but every second of every day, I’m right by your side.”

𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖 𝑇𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑢

The concept of “right idea, wrong execution.” is one that’s all too familiar to you.

Your boyfriend, Satori Tendou, seems to be the physical manifestation of the idiom.

So, when you had asked your lover to be with you during a hard time, he immediately shifted into “the love of my life is sad, time to fix this” mode

Tendou instantly invited you over for emergency quality time.

While it was blissful on the beginning, halfway through your movie, he got the bright idea to start to play wrestle with you.

It wasn’t always your favorite thing, but you figured it may help you feel better.

The two of you were giggling profusely as you “fought” for victory and power.

At one point, he gripped your arm for better leverage, causing you to grimace and cry out.

Your boyfriend immediately recoiled, confused as to what had happened.

“S-sorry. Just a… just a bad bug bite.” You lied as your smoothed out your sleeve.

Now, your boyfriend may be easy to trick, but not in this instance. It was only when blood started seeping from your cuts that he truly began to wonder what was wrong.

“Oh, Starshine! You’re bleeding!” Tendou said, taking your arm in his hand after a worried gasp, “Let me-“

As your eyes suddenly widened, and you jerked your arm out of his grasp, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Your eyes squeezed shut as your breathing picked up. He’s going to be mad. He’s going to leave you. He’s going to be disgusted. He’s going to-

“I-… my love, are you alright?” The quietest voice asked.

You opened your eyes to look at him, expecting to see disgust in his eyes. Instead, you were met with a look of true fear.

A dull ring filled your ears as Tendou desperately tried to pull answer after answer out of you.

“(Y/N) please answer me!” You finally heard from your boyfriend, “Will you please let me help you with your cut?”

“N-no! You can’t!” You pressed down roughly on your sleeve, only making more blood seep through. Wincing, you slowly released your own arm.

Tendou sighed with a patient smile.

“I promise you that whatever I may find will not change things. I love you and I just want you to feel safe around me.” His previously mousy tone was firm, but still gentle.

With exorbitant amounts of hesitation, you offered your arm to him, and felt tears begin to well up and fall.

A small lift using his thumb and forefinger was all it took for him to know what was causing you so much distress. “(Y/N)…” he whispered, squeezing your hand to hopefully get you to look at him, “You’re not alone.”

Before you could ponder upon what he meant, he gently lifted one of his pant legs up. Across his thigh were many scars and a few puffy cuts.

“Never alone.” He said once more, pressing his forehead gently against yours and cupping your cheek, “Do you hear me?”

You blinked your tears away and nodded, pressing your lips together to muffle your sobs.

Tendou brought his other hand up to hold your face, kissing your forehead with a gentleness.

“This is a fight that we can win, Starshine. It’s you and me against a great big world.” He chimed, a few stray tears falling down his cheeks too, “I’ve got you, and you’ve got me. It all starts in this moment.”

After that comment, he plants another kiss on your forehead and rises to his feet. He retreats to the restroom and brings back some cotton rounds, some neosporin and a large wrap bandage.

“It ends here, we can do this.” He chimed, sitting criss-crossed on the floor. He holds out his hand for yours, gently taking it when it’s offered to him.

He turns your arm over and gets to work, wetting the cotton rounds to pick up any excess blood. Afterward, he hummed a sweet song as he applied ointment to the cuts on your arm.

“Here comes the hard part…” he forewarned as he began to ever-so-gently wrap the bandage around your arm. He was pleased to see that it didn’t cause you that much pain, “My brave little Paradise.”

After your arm was taken care of, Satori wrapped his arms around you, and laid down on the couch with you.

“Anytime you may feel anything, think of anything that’s bad, have scary intrusive thoughts, whatever it may be, come find me.”

“I may not be the best helper, but I know exactly how you’re feeling. I want to keep you safe so badly, but I can’t help if you don’t tell me. So never be afraid to let me know you’re hurting, okay?”

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Tabaco y Brea

Part 6

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!reader

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, angst, nightmares, dissappointment, I think that's it.

Summary: Everything becomes strained and awkward after what happened in Cali, putting a strain on your friendship with Javi. But you have to fix it, before it's too late.

A/N: I’m  sorry for taking so long but here it is for anyone who’s interested. I hope you enjoy it!

You can find all previous parts in my masterlist

The air of Colombia in the morning feels great after a night of fun with Javi. There are parts of your body that haven't been sore in a while, not since you went to México two years ago at least. The picture from that trip on the bedside table in your room makes waking up easier.

 Your feet make noise as you walk without shoes to the kitchen, finding the sight of Javier shirtless very pleasing. His plaid pants are hanging low on his hips as he hums a tune that sounds a lot like Aerosmith.

His ring glints as he moves his left hand to mix the eggs at the stove, sunlight illuminating him in a way that should be considered as a form of art. His watch looks blurry to you, but you don’t pay too much attention to it.

Sleepy, you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze.

'Why did you get up?" You ask, groggy and warm from the bed. He chuckles.

"Someone has to keep us fed around here”

His voice is rough from sleep too, so he probably hasn't been awake too long either. His hips start swaying to the imaginary music that must be playing inside his head, moving you along with him. His skin is so warm against yours it makes you relax against him, giving him little kisses on his back.

You turn your head to look at the living room. The newspaper that’s on the table has a bloody picture with a big headline that you can’t read. It makes you frown. Maybe you will have to get a pair of glasses soon.

Everything feels warm, safe. Javier presses back against you, sighing deeply. You smile.

Your eyes look to the side and see a shadow moving. Not even a second after, you draw in a startled breath and a ray of sunlight glints off a knife. You pull Javi against you to get him out of the way, but not being fast enough, the blade slices through his chest. You feel the force of the stab through his body, pushing you back when a cry of pain leaves his lips and his body hits the floor when you can't take his weight.

Kneeling, you frantically move your hand to grab at the gun under the table, but it isn’t there. When you turn to see who may have taken it, there’s no one but the two of you in the room.

Or rather, there’s only you in the room. Javier is too still, his chest isn’t raising and falling from breathing. His brown eyes are lifeless as they look up to the ceiling.

You kneel down in front of him, gripping his shoulders and palming his chest, getting your hands soaked with blood. You can’t stop the sob that tears out of you. 

“Javier!” you scream. “Javier, wake up!”

Red hands glint when you look down. His eyes don't shine anymore.

“You promised” you wail, left alone in the room, with a lifeless body in front of you. 

Your body bolts up in your bed, gasping for the hundredth time in the past two weeks and covered in a cold sweat. The rise and fall of your chest feel too quick to be real, even after so many past experiences. The room is filled with moonlight seeping through the white curtains that cover your window. For some reason, it makes your heart ache more.

Pain is universal. Some people feel it down their stomach, with a knot that pulls and contracts at every thought that brings something you don't want to remember or think about. Some others feel it in their chest, something swelling and constricting every breath they take, aching right at the center. Some feel it in their throats, pain and anger clogging their pipe, teary eyes, and swollen face is commonly found those times too. 

The kind of pain you're feeling right now seems to include all of them.

Once again, the bed is empty, and the vague memories of the dream you just had start to mix with every other you've had in 15 days. They are always variations of the same thing, always leave you hopeless and scared. The tears stream down your face once again, increasing the fear that has been clogging your system since everything that happened in Cali. 

The most horrible part of everything is that you're not sure what's worse, dreaming of Javi dying in different ways every night or the knowledge that every single one is possible and you can't do anything about it. 

A ella no la tocamos mexicanito, one narco had said. A ella no la tocamos, pero a vos sí. (We don't mess with her, little Mexican, we don't mess with her but we mess with you)

 They had been saying rude comments about you all night instead of answering your questions, but Javi finally snapped when the one nicknamed Jarrogrande told you to give him "cacho mami, que uste' se ve que es bien conchuda" (a chance, you look like you're shameless) and smashed his head against the table. Both of them realized that what was happening was for real, and started talking. Ironic how every single narco seemed to brag about loyalty but ended up talking when their skin was in the line.

The words of Mosca, the other one, rang in your ears for the rest of the night and stuck in your head to the point of giving you nightmares all these days. You had no clue what he had meant, neither did Javi or Steve. Even after hours of interrogation, spilling about the recruitment of young boys they had been doing in the Comuna 3, not one word of explanation had left their mouths about it. 

It made you uneasy, so much that the idea of sleeping was almost scary by this point, even though you always ended up falling asleep no matter how much coffee you drank and how much you tried to stay awake reading. 

No human should go through this and yet here you are, crying repeatedly over the visual of Javier getting stabbed this time, less perturbed than with the last dream where he flew through the air after being hit by a car several times. And not once, not even the first time, could you have done anything about it. And if you can't do anything about it in your own dreams, what would happen in real life?

The worst one yet had been one where you both were sleeping together and someone broke into your apartment, shooting him right next to you. And you couldn't do anything, just lay there and watch how life slipped away from his brown eyes as his body went limp.

You turn around to the bedside clock. It reads 5:03 A.M.

Tired from a night full of restless sleep, you move your legs over the bed and stand up, rubbing your eyes and wiping the tears from your face. Barefoot, you make your way to the shower and strip your clothes off. A short and a tank top are the only things you can handle at night, the humidity seems to skyrocket as soon as the sun goes down. It should get more fresh, for fuck's sake.

Pulling the curtain to the side, you open the shower and step inside, letting the water wash away the sweat and discomfort that the 15th night in a row tormented with nightmares left you. 

-

"Is everything okay?"

Steve's voice makes you jump as you attempt to read reports in your desk, uselessly. The lack of sleep is finally starting to take its toll, all day you've been nodding off. 

The fact that Javier is avoiding you like the plague doesn't help at all.

"Yeah," you answer, "just tired."

He frowns at you from his brand new desk across yours. Stacks of paper fill it completely, manila folders in every space available. The smoke of his and Javi's cigarettes go directly at your zone, and seeing how he smokes just as much as Javi makes you wonder how he managed to control himself when he was working at your table.

"You don't look just tired"

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Javi's desk, where he's completely buried in studying a map of Cali spread above his mess. The barrio zone in Carrera 8 is underlined with a red marker as he traces the path you followed the narcos after the club. You clear your throat, hoping to get his attention. 

He grunts without turning to look at you. The blue shirt he's wearing today makes his skin glow in a way that makes your hands itch to touch. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"Do you need help?" you ask, sounding much more composed than you feel. Surprisingly, he nods and gestures for you to come close, signaling somewhere in the map.

"Can you remember where we followed them to?"

Distracted, you roam the paper with your eyes and point at where you think they went.

"I know it's right where Carrera 8 crosses the Alfonso López Bridge, but I can't tell you exactly where that is in the map"

His face lights up slightly at the mention of the bridge, bringing his hand up to draw a circle at an intersection you had failed to see. He bows his head at you subtly.

"Thanks"

"No problem"

The interaction feels so awkward and forced that your instinct is activating the urge to either say something or run away. You're more inclined to do the later but end up doing neither as you return to your desk. You can feel Steve's piercing look right on your skull. 

Even the air feels too heavy to breathe. It had never been like that, not even in your first days at the office or worst fights. Javi always tried to fix it by buying you food or cracking a joke to ease the tension, never really addressing what started the fight.

 Maybe that's the problem, you're not used to communicating verbally and this isn't something you just shrug off.

And if it wasn't enough, you're sure Javi has also realized your poor state caused by lack of sleep. Every time you try to make coffee, he drinks it all and doesn't leave any to you, he stays with Steve at the office until they make sure you'll leave, and when he thinks you're not looking, he gives you side glances with a concerned expression you had only seen the first time after your first raid in Bogotá. He knows something's wrong, he's just not sure what.

"Bera," Steve's voice pulls you out of your thoughts, "aren't you hungry?"

You're surprised to feel a void in your stomach at his mention, realizing that yes, you are hungry.

You nod, cocking your head to one side as you look at him. 

Just then Javi straightens and grabs his jacket without saying anything, not even turning to look at neither of you. A lump in your throat makes itself present once again when logic tells you where he must be going at this specific hour.

"Where are you going?" Steve dares to ask. Javi keeps walking.

"Out"

You confirm your thoughts when he puts his hand inside his pocket as if checking for something to be inside.

Your eyes burn as he walks away and climbs up the stairs. Something grips your chest tight, makes your stomach clench, and your temperature rise. 

You shouldn't feel like that, it's not like Javi is doing something wrong. You're not together, he's not cheating on you.

You just wish your heart agreed.

Murphy's voice breaks you out of your pain.

"Here," he gestures for you to get closer as he takes out a big recipient from under his desk and opens it, a wonderful smell of food that floods your senses and eases the ache in your heart a little. Then he pulls out another one and serves some food inside.

You stand up and pull your chair towards him, sitting in front of his desk and moving the folders just enough to leave space to eat. He hands you a spoon and the second recipient, but it feels close to being offered a hug, a sense that you're not alone, that he understands. 

“Connie is trying to learn traditional dishes,” he offers as an explanation, smiling sheepishly. You take a bite and moan, marveling at the taste of Bogotá meatloaf.

“Well she’s doing great”

You eat in comfortable silence for a few seconds, afraid of mentioning what you both know about Javier’s absence. 

You realize Steve is itching to tell you something, so you try to show as much openness as possible. He seems to catch on it, so he swallows and clears his throat. 

“Why do they call you Bera?” he, after so many days of wanting to and not doing it, finally asks. But doesn’t dare to look at you while he does.  

“It’s a long story,” you answer, smiling at the soft tone he uses. 

“I think we’ve got time” 

You take a deep breath and sit back in your chair, with your legs crossed and the plastic container resting on top.

“On my first week,” you start, “we had one of the most important raids there has been in the past two years”

“The one where you found one of Escobar’s hideouts?” he interrupts, looking at you expectantly. You nod, chuckling when he takes a mouthful of food and urges you to continue.

“I met Carrillo, and he wanted to boss me around as if I were one of his soldiers. Javier wasn’t too happy about it but didn’t say anything. We are in his country, after all”

“He can be an asshole, uh?” Steve mutters. You’re not sure who he's talking about, but either way, it’s true, just in different levels and senses.

“When he realized I wasn’t going to let him, he called me berraca. I slapped him because I thought he meant it offensively, but it turned out to be a compliment." Steve arches one eyebrow at that. "He then clarified he had called me berraca with b and not with v while he rubbed his cheek,” you say, smiling at the memory. His skin had been so red you feared it would stay like that for a while. If you had hit him a little to the left, his lip would have probably split open.

“What’s the difference?” he asks, confused. 

“Verraca with v means stallion pig. Berraca with b can mean many many things, but one of them is brave.”

Steve nods, pursing his lips, with narrow eyes as if he was studying something. "Well, he's right."

You smile, pleased that he agrees with it.

"It just morphed to Bera as a way of making fun of gringos," you finish. "You can't pronounce the hard r, so you say beraca instead of berraca. Javi started calling me Bera as a joke and it stuck."

Something inside Steve's mind goes quiet with the new knowledge. He can barely talk in Spanish, maybe he understands it a little better. But he's sure he would use that word to describe you too. It fits.

But now that he thinks of it, Javier and Carrillo say it in different tones, something he hadn't been conscious about before.

Carrillo says it like a challenge. As if he's waiting for you to react, to attack. Something bugs Steve in the way the colonel spits it out of his mouth, almost afraid of something everyone else is unaware of but prepared to take on it.

Javier, instead, says it like a prayer. His eyes sparkle and the corners of his lips rise slightly, amused but with something soft on his face. And it's not like he's not always like that around you because he is, he's less frowny and, dare Steve say, less of an asshole when you're close. He almost becomes nice. But when he calls you that, there is also admiration brightening his skin, shining in his eyes, beyond anything else he most likely feels when he looks at you.

He would have loved a warning before getting inside this mess though.

One of the things that has stuck with him since he arrived was the time both you and Javier left to meet one of your informants and when you came back, Javier was nursing a bruise on his face and others on his knuckles, fuming. You looked at him with such annoyance but wonder simultaneously that it gave Steve whiplash.

When one of the other agents in the office got close to Murphy and explained that that specific informant was always too sassy, especially with you, he understood why Javier came back like that. 

“He’s very protective in general,” the way the other agent had muttered it let him know Javier didn’t like any talk about it, “but there is always something worse than Hell coming for anyone who messes with her.”

It sounded like a cheesy movie, and Steve knew you hated it when either of them tried to protect you, but he could see it was the truth. 

He doesn’t understand how you haven’t gotten together though, it just seems too irrational not to. If Javier doesn’t care about the rule of no relationships with informants, why would he care about the rule that also prohibits them between co-workers?

The phone rings suddenly when he starts to get deeper in thought, making both of you jump. Steve picks it up, frowning.

You start to worry when his face goes white and his back straightens, motioning you to give him something to write on.

He answers affirmatively a couple of times while he writes something on top of the sheet of paper you gave him, hurriedly. When he hangs up, the stare he gives you worries you even more.

"Javier just found a hideout." You freeze at his words. "He called from a public phone and said he needed backup because someone most likely identified him.”

Your blood starts pumping so loud in your ears they feel like they’re going to explode. Your chest feels tight, making breathing harder, and blurring your sight.

Something inside your head whispers that this is going to end just like your nightmares, that you're going to lose him and never get to tell him everything you want. Javier is going to die, and you're too far to do anything about it.

Panic starts to cover your whole body when Steve's hand touches your arm and pulls, forcing you to look at him.

"We gotta be quick! Move!"

His tone orders your body to do as he says, picking up your gun and tucking it behind your pants. Steve does the same while screaming to the rest in the office, ordering around, and putting everything in motion. You can't understand what they're saying, but soon someone is shoving a bulletproof vest for you to put on, and you quickly do it. Instinctively, you pull one from somebody's hands and hold it tight, thinking of Javier. 

All of you run outside to the cars and Steve starts driving like a maniac towards the address that Javier told him. He hands you the built-in radio between your seats and you start shouting orders to anyone who might be hearing on the line. 

 The way the car moves makes your body shake.

Or maybe it's the fear, you're not really sure.

You close your eyes and try to evocate Javier's voice reading to you, a few weeks back. 

 Era en verdad una aldea feliz, donde nadie era mayor de treinta años y donde nadie había muerto. (It was a truly happy village, where no one was over thirty years of age and where no one had died)

Please stay safe Javier, you thought. Please don't do anything stupid until I get there.

Adrenaline starts pumping through your veins like a freight train, shutting down anything else you might be feeling.

In some weird, twisted joke of life, many moments you spent with Javier start to pass in front of your eyes. Back in 1980, when you had gone to the cinema to break away from the depressive aura of the office. The first time you ate in Salomé. When he, for the first and last time, went to your apartment and you had watched Rocky while making fun of Stallone's voice. At Christmas, when he gifted you a tape for your Walkman. The way his eyes had glinted when you had given him a special edition vinyl of Led Zeppelin IV.

It hurts, to think about all that and know you may never live any of it again after this.

When Steve hits the brakes with no warning, you immediately wrench the door open and kneel behind it, pointing in front of you through the window in case someone shoots.

There are four military Jeeps behind you, with soldiers quickly jumping down from them and forming lines around the zone. Their colonel signals them to move forward.

Something gives you a bad feeling, everything is too quiet, too still. There are not even people walking around in their normal day, the streets are completely deserted.

You can hear your heavy breathing, sweat dripping down your back as you look for any signs of movement.

A gun gets reloaded somewhere to your left, and it takes you a second to turn around and point at where the sound came from when someone else shoots them first.

This gives the narcos the distraction they needed. Guns start to fire in time someone yells at your team to get cover, bullets ricocheting from the cars, and breaking the windows to pieces.

From the corner of your eye, you see Javi's back as he hides in one of the alleys, soaked in sweat. He's breathing so hard you can even hear it over the blood that's pumping on your ears. He seems unharmed though, there are no spots of blood on his clothes.

In a stupid decision to try and keep him that way, you scream his name, making him turn to look at you.

His eyes almost bulge out of his skull as he sees how carelessly you are acting by giving away your position, but without a second thought, he starts to run towards you, his gun gripped tight on his hand and moving with such urgency it makes you anxious. 

Once he gets next to you and kneels beside you, you lose all words. He's safe, he's next to you, healthy y uninjured. Around you, there's shouting, followed by gunfires. None of it matters for a second.

Your brain reminds you of the bulletproof vest you brought for him when you look down and see he lost his jacket at some point, so you turn to grab it and give it to him. He seems incredulous, you don't really understand why.

"Just put it on," your voice leaves no space for arguing. He nods, strapping it quickly while you cover any shot that may get you. 

Both of you stand up, pointing in front of your bodies as you walk towards the sudden line of cars that are on the other side of the street.

Even if they wanted, there's no way they're getting out of this. You have them at least five to one, with far more weapons and advantage.

Again, something doesn't seem right. It's too stupid, a mistake that is too careless and idiotic for them to make it without any other intentions.

You stop breathing when, by chance, you get a glimpse of Escobar's hair in the backseat of a blue Sedan.

He feels your stare, turns to look at you, and grins. Your whole body freezes, with your fingers stiff on your gun.

 All air leaves your lungs and the blood from your face drains.

The way he smiles, with a familiarity you don't know where it comes from, makes a shiver run down your spine.

Javi feels it, turning to look at you briefly and ask what's wrong when suddenly, Escobar gives an order you can't hear to one of his men and he starts to walk directly towards you in the middle of the chaos.

Javier reacts immediately. He pushes you behind him, recharging his gun and firing at the same time as the other man.

Everything happens in slow motion.

Both of them fire twice before anything else happens. Javi gets two shots right in the middle of the other's chest, but the man gets two on his chest too.

Blood starts to spread over the man's shirt, red and bubbling quickly. No one pays attention to him as they keep shooting and shouting, the blue Sedan leaving without anyone but you noticing what just happened. Escobar shouts something for you to hear, but you're too distracted to pay attention. 

Panic rises in your throat when the impact knocks Javier back, making him give a short yell when he instinctively moves his hand to grab at his chest. You move fast to cushion his fall, stopping him from hitting the floor too hard.

Tears flood your eyes as you frenéticamente move your hands to assess the damage when Javi's hands grab yours and stop you.

"I'm okay," he mutters, but there's pain in his voice. He tries to smile at you but fails, wincing. The way his grip tightens around your fingers bring your brain back a little to reality, and you realize there's no blood on his body.

The vest.

A relieved sob leaves your mouth when you realize the worst he can have is a few cracked ribs. You thank past you for thinking of bringing that heavy horrible thing with you.

Around you, everything starts to die down when the few narcos that aren't injured or dead climb in their cars and run away. There are just three injured soldiers from your side, and it's nothing fatal.

Steve comes out of nowhere and kneels down next to you, speaking words that come silent to your eyes.

You and Javier look at each other, with fear and relief and anger all mixed together in your eyes. The love he sees in your eyes shatters him, makes the pain in his chest feel sharper. 

Neither of you says anything as Steve helps him stand up so you can take him to get checked up, but he never looks away from you. Your friend is amazed at how quickly Javi can change from completely aggressive to absolute tenderness in just a few seconds. 

But when it's about you, he knows both feelings come from the same place.

You don't say a word on the trip to the hospital, but all the way both of you are gripping the other's hand as if your lives depend on it.

 Maybe they do.

Your body feels like you just went into shock. None of anything that happened feels real, anything but Javier's touch seems fake. He's shaking against you, and that's not common at all. His leg is jumping from the adrenaline in a way that would be funny if it wasn't because he almost died a few minutes ago.

He plants a kiss on your head, gripping your fingers tighter. 

The sun is in your eyes when the car starts heading down another street. You start to crash, leaning your head on his shoulder as a deep male voice sings from the radio.

He wishes he could rest with you too, but something is bothering Javier.

He heard what Escobar shouted at you.

-/-

Tabaco y Brea taglist: @larakassing

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[chronologyx]

Lavender Autumn (Kazuqing) Prologue: Stormy Memories

Summary:

Kaedehara Kazuha managed to sought refuge with Captain Beidou’s crew, The Crux, after escaping the Raiden Shogun’s Vision Hunt Decree. Upon arriving to the docks of Liyue Harbor, the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing, Keqing, caught Kazuha’s interest. Before the golden star faces the slowly approaching storm in Teyvat, Kazuha and Keqing will slowly create and develop an unforgettable bond together that neither will ever forget.

[Author’s Note]

Prologue: Stormy Memories

“He took the vision!”

“Chase him down! Do not let him escape!”

“Vision hunt decree! Hand over both yours and the vision you have stolen!”

 There were various words being shouted aloud, making me wonder which were of the Shogunate and of my thoughts. I could not comprehend which voices were which at the time as I had managed to make my escape from Tenshukaku with my good friend’s vision in hand. My good friend, Tomo, had challenged the Vision Hunters and the Raiden Shogun to a duel a few weeks after the Vision Hunt Decree was established.

 It was a solemn yet brutal challenge where the victor can gain a second chance or face the Raiden Shogun’s divine punishment: The Musou no Hitotachi, a sword art of which he truly desired to see face-to-face. By the time I arrived, the sound of divine punishment was administered and a severed blade hitting the ground. There was a swirl of emotions and thoughts going through me after I snatched the vision and fled the scene.

 Did he thought he could withstand and face the lightning’s glow; where was Tama, his little white cat that would always accompany him everywhere; what kind of face did he made when he finally saw it firsthand? I ignored the questions that kept popping into my head and the pain in my heart that was mourning for my friend for now, as it was not the time nor the place for it. I especially tried my best to ignore the pain that was occurring in my right hand, where his vision was literally slowly burning out and searing the palm of my right hand.

 While I was trying to sort out the thoughts in my head and plan what to do next after that stunt, I looked ahead and witness something that bewildered me. I came to a sudden stop upon seeing the Raiden Shogun right in front of me. More questions began to swirl around my head as fear slowly crept upon my heart. Why was the Raiden Shogun standing here in front of me, she ordered her Shogunate to chase me down so why? While not knowing why she was here, what I do know was my warrior’s instinct desperately telling me to move.

 As I turned to a direction that wasn’t towards either the Shogunate or the Raiden Shogun, the scenery in front of my eyes suddenly changed. Before me were several damaged torii gates surrounding me, with a sand garden below me depicting the electro symbol. While I desperately try to push down the fear that was now clutching onto my heart and make sense of what was happening around me, I regretted looking at the direction where the Raiden Shogun stood.

 Where the Raiden Shogun stood, a giant dark storm slowly swirling out red mist was behind her. The center of the storm almost looks like an eye voided of any kind of human emotion. I fear I will be drowned at its abyssal gaze if I dare to continue looking at it. The sound of crackling lightning brought back my attention to the Raiden Shogun, and destroyed any kind of hope I had left.

 I witnessed the Raiden Shogun slowly drawing out her Tachi, the Musou Isshin out from her chest. I then see her raising her sword above her head, preparing a sword art that all in Inazuma knew well that could only be administered during a certain act. Her divine punishment: The Musou no Hitotachi, the symbol of her power and authority. And the one who will be receiving this before her was me.

 Every instinct I had was screaming at me to move, to get away, do something or anything at all! But I could not, for my body has become frozen with fear that has finally overtook my entire being. I could only just stand there helplessly, clutching onto my friend’s lifeless vision in my scarred right hand, as the Raiden Shogun’s tachi comes crashing down onto me like lightning. The last thing I heard was the sound of thunder shattering the skies.

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 17

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 12,131

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Day three of Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really and so far, so good.

Though the thought of this triple date had my inner recluse curling up into the fetal position, I'd manage to convince myself it actually was a good thing when you really thought about it. One, it gave me more practice for trying to do this whole couply… thing I was trying to do. More practice meant I'd eventually, hopefully be more comfortable with it all, as well as less chance for screw-ups in front of my parents when the dreaded but inevitable weekend with them at last came. Two, we were trying to maintain this image of being boyfriend and girlfriend in front of everyone else at the mall. And boyfriends and girlfriends went on dates. What better way to be seen going on said dates than by going out with other actual couples? And three, we couldn't forget about the person the Duke had hired to tail Anna originally and could quite possibly still be keeping tabs on me now. If they were still out there lurking, it was important that they, even more so than anyone else,see me dating.

It was still kind of weird to think about - that an actual, real life PI or whatever had been surveilling me constantly for who knows how long and I'd had no idea. It felt so surreal. Unreal even. But the Duke was absolutely that crazy and I wouldn't put it past him to still have someone keeping an eye on me, looking for any cracks in the story, any slip-ups or mistakes. I'd have to start paying attention more when I was out and about, see if I could figure out who it was, spot any faces that seemed to always show up everywhere I went.

But then, even if I did identify a likely culprit, I would have absolutely no idea what to do with that information once I had it. Even if I marched right up to them and told them their cover had been blown so they may as well scram, the Duke was just insane enough and rich enough to keep hiring new people to do the job instead.

...jeez, I was really starting to sound paranoid now, wasn't I?

With my luck, it'd turn out the Duke no longer had anyone following me after he'd confronted me in the food court.

Best not to think about it too much, because honestly? It'd get me nowhere.

Sighing, I banished the thoughts from my head as I watched the buildings blur past my window from the backseat of Riku's silver Ford Focus. The three of us were on our way to the restaurant now and Lea, Kairi and Sora were going to meet us there. My hand anxiously smoothed out the creases of my outfit - a dark magenta sheath dress with long sleeves and a hemline at the knees. It had a tastefully low v-neckline and a double layered skirt, the top layer made of a shimmering gossamer material. Nice, but nothing too fancy for our "nothing too fancy" date, to use Kairi's words.

Per Lea's request, I'd also worn his leather jacket. It made sense, after all. Nothing screamed "dating" more than one half of a couple wearing their other half's clothes, so it certainly helped maintain the facade. His boy scent still lingered on it, even though he hadn't worn it in a couple of days now, given it had been in my possession. The smell was somehow both soothing and butterflies-in-the-stomach inducing at the same time. It was an odd mix of emotions, to say the least.

I felt a buzz in the jacket's pocket. Pulling out my phone (gosh, it was so weird having one again after going so many weeks without) I checked my notifications to discover I'd received a text.

Well, speak of the devil.

Still cant believe u didnt lemme come pick u up

Shaking my head with a small snort, I tapped out a reply to Lea.

It just made the most logical sense for me to ride with Riku and Rayne since we were all coming from the same place.

Rayne suddenly cried out happily, drawing my attention to her as she clapped and bounced in the front passenger seat. "Ahh, I'm still just so excited for date night! Good food, great company, hot hubby," she slyly pinched Riku's cheek, which he endured with dignity as he drove. "What more could a girl ask for?"

He chuckled as he shifted the car over into the turn lane. "You make it sound like I never take you out."

"You know that's not what I mean!" she playfully smacked his shoulder. "But with the baby on the way, I don't know how many more of these I'll have! This is one of my last chances to enjoy freedom! Jesus take the fucking wheel, hallelujah!"

I felt my phone vibrate in my hand again and I looked down at it.

I know not this logic u spk of

I felt a tiny smile pulling at my mouth as my thumbs typed.

Don't worry about it. Tis beyond your mortal ken.

"I just hope no one's drinking tonight," Riku snerked as I watched those three dots bounce at the bottom of my screen. "Don't need you dancing on any more tables, thank you very much."

"Your face dances on tables!" Rayne shot back, sticking her tongue out at him.

"That doesn't even make any sense."

"You don't even make any sense!"

Rude. Ill have u know I had half a mind 2 drive ovr n get u NEway, logic b damned

My smile turned a touch wicked.

I'm impressed. That's half a mind more than you usually have.

"Here we are!"

My head shot up as I heard the engine shut down. I hadn't even realized we were in a parking lot. I hadn't even realized the vehicle had stopped moving.

As I looked out my window again, I heard Rayne saying, "Have I mentioned how happy I am we're doing this?"

"You may have said something about that once or twice." I could hear the smile in Riku's low voice.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her leaning over towards him, her hand coming up to run slender fingers through his long, ashen strands. "Yeah, but maybe I should show you."

"Maybe you should…"

And that's when I, being the absolute clueless, blissfully naive little fool that I was, chose to turn and fully look at them, just in time to get a front row seat to their little game of tonsil hockey. I blushed, threw up a hand to block my line of sight and made a tiny noise of disgust in my throat. "Ugh! You know you're not the only people in the car, right?"

Rayne pulled away to smirk back at me. "Well, other people can shoo," she flicked a dismissive hand in my direction before grabbing Riku by his collar and yanking him over for a deeper, more passionate kiss. Ding, ding, round two!

Squeaking, I fumbled with my seatbelt until I heard the click release, threw my car door open, stumbled out and slammed it shut behind me with a huff.

Oi, that was the main drawback to this group date plan. We were going to be around actual couples, and actual couples actually, ahem… snogged. Rayne and Riku were going to be bad enough, but let's not forget Sora and Kairi were along for the ride too and I'd seen firsthand how gross those two could be as well. Mark my word, this night was going to have more than its fair share of uncomfortable moments with those four around, being all besotted and smitten and other such rot. But I would survive this and make it through to the other side. Somehow.

Sweeping my braid forward over one shoulder, I glanced up at the building before me now. It bore a colorful banner over its entrance that read Fuente Del Oro. A local, family-owned Mexican restaurant, or so Rayne had told me. I could already tell this was going to be a very different experience from the types of restaurants my ex used to take me to for our dates. Those restaurants had all been about the look, the prestige… you didn't go to any of those places for the food, you went there to be seen, to give off an air of importance. Those places were… dull. Lifeless. This place before me now, on the other hand, was… nice. Colorful. Vibrant and full of character. Not elegant or frilly, but warm and inviting. And the aromas that I could smell coming from it, even all the way out here? Delicious.

I was actually kind of looking forward to this.

Phone still in my grasp, I looked back down at it and frowned.

No message back from Lea yet.

A giggle suddenly echoed out across the parking lot and my eyes snapped towards the source. It didn't take long to spot Kairi a few vehicles over, squirming and laughing in Sora's arms as he hugged her from behind, blowing raspberries against her neck. They were standing with a very familiar redhead who was leaning against a very familiar black muscle car. Said redhead had pulled his hair back into a ponytail again and was dressed in a snug, black tee with a second shirt on underneath, red and black horizontal stripes running down its full-length sleeves. His slim, dark jeans made his already long legs seem even longer and he was sporting his bright red Converse. He had his phone in hand in front of him, but it wasn't the phone he was looking at. Our eyes met and a grin tugged at one corner of his lips.

Suddenly, whatever boldness that I had felt behind the safety of text on the tiny, glowing screen in the palm of my hand had abandoned me and I felt a small pang of anxiety pierce my chest.

But I rallied.

Alright, Elsa, pep talk time. You can do this. You've been mentally and emotionally preparing for this since yesterday. Let him throw at you whatever fluffy, sappy moves he decides to today, all in the name of pretending to be your boyfriend. You can take it.

Shields raised and at full power, captain!

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, I pocketed my mobile and started making my way over to those three. Probably hearing my footsteps against the asphalt, Kairi and Sora looked over at me as I approached and greeted me with waves. I gave them a shy smile and returned the wave as Lea held his phone up, turning the screen towards me and showing the last message I'd sent him as he tsked, "Brutal. You wound me, madame."

I stopped a few feet away from him, my smile twitching wider. "You like it."

"True. What can I say, I've always been a bit of a masochist," he hummed a low chuckle, slipping his phone into the back pocket of his pants. His head tipped to one side and he stared at me for another second, then his eyes crinkled as he stretched a hand out towards me with a soft, "C'mere."

I bit my bottom lip, hesitating for a heartbeat before moving another step forward to take his offered hand.

"Lookit you," he whistled, closing his fingers around mine and leading me into a little twirl. "Digging the look." He then gently pulled me against him, drawing my arms up to hug his neck before slipping his hands beneath the jacket to wrap around my waist, enveloping me in his cinnamon scent. "Didn't get a chance to say it the other day, but my jacket suits you."

I rolled my eyes up at him, doing my best to be impervious to our sudden closeness. I wasn't succeeding. "Not really. It's too big."

"Yes really," he insisted, bowing his head slightly towards mine. "It looks way better on you than it ever did on me."

"Where's Riku and Rayne?" Sora interjected and I turned my head to look at him.

"They-" my words tripped over my tongue as Lea pressed a tender kiss to my temple.

Critical hit, captain! Shields down to thirty percent, but holding!

Ignoring the heat rushing to my face, I did my best to regather my scattered thoughts. "They, uh… they're back in the, uh… the…" Drat, what was the word again? "...car! They're back in the… the car."

Sora pulled a face. "Swapping spit, no doubt."

"Oh-ho, we'll see about that! C'mon, Sora!" Kairi cackled with an evil gleam in her eye, slipping free of her boyfriend's hold to instead grab his hand and pull him behind her as she ran off towards Riku's car.

"Seriously," Lea spoke up again, his voice hushed as I slowly returned my gaze to his. "Pretty sure I've lost all claim to that jacket. It belongs to you now."

My eyelids drooped. "That's not how that works."

"Sure it is." He rested his forehead against mine and I could feel his thumb rubbing light circles against the fabric of my dress just above my hip. "You don't choose a leather jacket, it chooses you. And trust me, that one has definitely picked you over me."

I gave a soft snort. "I'm giving it back to you after tonight."

"Don't you dare," he chided, his breath warming my lips. "You'll hurt the jacket's feelings."

"Stop anthropomorphizing the jacket." I was fighting a smile now.

"Make me," he murmured, something in his voice causing my insides to do that whole warm, fuzzy, squishy thing.

And the academy award for best leading actor in the role of Elsa's boyfriend goes to this guy right here.

But had to say, I thought he might be overdoing it a bit. I mean, Sora and Kairi weren't even around anymore to hear any of this. And if we were being monitored by someone under my great uncle's payroll, they certainly couldn't hear it either. I suppose Lea just… really liked getting into character?

Clearing my throat, I unclasped my hands from behind his neck and shifted them down to his chest in an attempt to push myself free of his grasp as I whispered, "We, ah… should probably go speak to the hostess now."

However, his hold on me didn't loosen, his arms remaining firmly secured around my waist. He didn't say anything, just continued to grin down at me. His eyes became hooded as they flicked down to my lips now, making my heart skip a beat.

What was he-?

A sudden loud yelp ruptured the air around us.

Rayne.

Followed by an annoyed yell of, "Goddamnit, Sora! Kairi!"

And that would be Riku.

The two delinquents in question blurred past us and towards the restaurant's front doors, whooping and snickering and razzing their tongues back at their victims climbing out of the Ford Focus. "We'll grab us a table!" Sora called quickly at the same time Kairi shouted, "See ya inside!" Then they both disappeared through the entrance with Rayne and Riku hot on their heels.

I heard Lea sigh. Or maybe he didn't. It was so soft that it was fully possible that I imagined it. Then he released me, slipping one hand into mine and jerking a thumb towards the restaurant with a lopsided smile, "Shall we?"

I stared at him, feeling the night air cool my warmed face. Then I gave a tentative nod and let him lead me inside.

The others hadn't made it far past the doors and we stepped in to find Riku doling out Sora's punishment: death by a thousand noogies. Sora was smacking his cousin's arm and trying to wriggle free, but to no avail. Apparently Kairi had gotten off with only a warning for she was standing off to one side with Rayne, both cracking up as they watched the boys. I looked past them, taking in the restaurant. Strings of fairy lights hung from the ceiling intermixed with strings of multi-colored papers, each bearing cutouts depicting various imagery. The walls were painted with murals of fantastical, mythical creatures of various shapes and sizes with wings and prismatic fur, feathers and scales. This place was absolutely beautiful.

Once the roughhousing had finally settled down, we all approached the hostess, an extremely tiny, extremely old lady wearing a name tag that read Coco who seemed far more interested in napping than greeting new customers. However, she woke up long enough to squint at her list and find our reservation before calling over a man to seat us. He led us through the restaurant and to a large booth in one of the back corners, leaving menus, chips and salsa on the table before flashing us a warm, genuine smile and saying he'd be back to take our orders in a minute.

I started shrugging out of the jacket, feeling Lea assist me before folding it over his arm and gesturing towards the booth with bow and a, "Lady's first." Smiling at him, I took a seat and scooched towards the middle. Lea wasn't too far behind, sitting close enough for our knees to bump against one another. He tossed the jacket on the back shelf of the booth before draping his arm across the top of the cushioned seat behind my head. Rayne took the spot to my left with Riku of course beside her, and on the other side of Lea sat Kairi and Sora. The waiter came back after giving us a little time to peruse the menus and he gathered our food requests before dashing off again.

"So Ray," Kairi piped up, popping a heavily salsa-laden chip into her mouth, "how's the preggers-life treating you?"

"Really well," she nodded contentedly, one hand going to her tummy. "The jellybean's happy and healthy so far and I've just started barely showing in the past couple weeks. No weird food cravings yet, thank god, but those are supposed to be right around the corner."

Sora leaned forward, propping his chin in both hands and beamed, "Do we know yet if I have a lil nephew or niece on the way?"

"We're cousins, Sora. Nephews and nieces would only be if we were brothers," Riku corrected with a wry curve to his lips.

"We don't know yet," Rayne shook her head, "but I'm about four months along now, so hoping to find out at our next appointment."

Lea had shifted his hand to dangle down so he could idly twiddle my braid between his fingers. I could also sense his gaze on me, causing a bit of a flutter in the pit of my stomach. Reminding myself he was just playing a part and it wasn't real, I resisted the urge to squirm and instead pretended not to notice, directing all my focus into reaching for a chip to dip into the salsa.

"Well whatever the wee monkey turns out to be, you can bet Auntie Kairi and Unkie Sora will be here to shower it with all the love and kisses!" Kairi cooed.

Riku twitched and frowned. "I just said that isn't how it-"

"Shush, hon, they're just teasing you now," Rayne poked his cheek with a laugh before looking back over at Kairi. "And you? How's the new gig over at Mickey's going? You've been there, what? About a week now?"

"Mm-hm! It's been a lot of fun working the jewelry counter. Oh sure, there's the occasional asshole customer, but turns out I'm really good at killing them with kindness."

Riku kicked Sora's foot under the table, "What about you, ya freeloader? Any prospects yet?"

He shrugged with that big smile he seemed to always have permanently glued to his face. Just looking at it was starting to make my cheeks hurt. "Couple of interviews coming up, so we'll see!"

Smirking, Riku said, "Can't wait to hear how you screw them up this time, knucklehead."

"Hey!"

Kairi turned to look our direction now. "So what's new and exciting with you two, hm? Lea, you just had that big test, right?" Silence was her answer as I went for another chip. "Lea? Hello, earth to... ah-ha, there!" She rocketed up to her feet, slamming one hand down on the table and pointing the other right in Lea's face. "Lost puppy look!"

"Hm, what now?" he jolted, his hand jerking away from my braid to lay across the booth backrest once more. "Lost pup-? Bah, I told you already, there's no lost puppy look. You need to get your eyes checked, princess."

She scoffed, plopping heavily back down into her seat and smugly take a sip of her soda. "Please. You were bad at hiding it when you guys were dating in secret, and you're even worse at it now that it's all out in the open."

"What's the deal there anyhow?" Sora cocked his head at me. "There's all sorts of wild rumors flying around the mall, like that you're runaway royalty from some far off country just living off the lam now."

"What?!" I blanched, gawking in disbelief. Doing my best to recover with a tiny, awkward laugh, I hastily said, "No, nothing quite so, ah… dramatic. My parents, they're… well off, to be sure, but certainly not royalty. And not from so far away either. Just Arendelle, which is only about an hour north of here."

Chewing on her straw, Kairi eagerly leaned in closer, "I'd love to hear the story of how you two met!"

I stiffened.

Fudge.

Welp, add that to my ever growing list of things I should have thought about in advance but failed miserably to do so. I fiddled a chip between my fingers as I tucked in my bottom lip. Shoot, what was I supposed to tell her? It's not like I'd gotten any better at lying in the past few days since my visit with Father. In fact, I'd been mostly skirting by since then by dodging questions and letting people fill in the blanks for themselves so I didn't have to. Heart thudding in my chest, I opened my mouth, not quite fully sure yet what was going to come out.

"Last summer," Lea was quicker. "In another city."

"Oh, during that big cross-country road trip you took?" Rayne asked him as she leaned into her husband who slung an arm around her shoulders.

Lea tapped his own nose, "That'd be the one, Raindrop."

Kairi gasped, "You two met in a foreign city? How romantic! That's the dream!"

"You have to leave the country in order for it to be a foreign city," Riku shook his head.

"Cram it, you knew what I meant!"

"It was like one of those scenes straight outta a movie," Lea planted an elbow on the table, rubbing a curled finger over his smirk as he watched me out of the corner of his eye. "There I was, just strolling along minding my own business, smack dab in the middle of a jam-packed city street. But then the crowd parted and there she stood. The most gorgeous creature to ever walk the face of this or any other planet in all the cosmos."

Cue my face turning all new shades of red never before witnessed in the history of human eyesight.

Jeez, laying it on a bit thick there, Lea, don't you think?

"So whatdja do?" Kairi pressed, eyes bright and on the edge of her seat. "Sweep her off her feet right then and there?"

He snerked, "Shit no, I walked headfirst into a lamppost."

I smothered a grin behind my hand as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. Sora reached over to punch him lightly in the arm, "Smooth, ya stud. What city was this anyway?"

"Corona," I was the one to answer, surprising myself. Suddenly self-conscious with all eyes turning to me, I quietly added, "I was there for part of my vacation last year."

"By yourself?" Rayne quirked a dubious eyebrow at me. She knew this story was as made-up as my current relationship status was. I could only assume she was trying to poke holes in order to help us solidify this little tale that was being spun so we'd be more prepared for the next time we had to tell the lie.

The thing is, the best lies have a grain of truth to them. I really had been in Corona last summer. "No, I was taking the trip with Anna. We were actually staying over in Traverse Town, but had planned to visit Corona for the day to enjoy a festival there, since it was only a short train ride away. However, Anna disappeared with a guy before we could go. I'd really been looking forward to this festival though and didn't want to miss it, so I took the train over on my own."

"Wait," Kairi slapped both hands down in front of her, eyes widening. "Are you talking about that big lantern festival they do every year?" At my nod, she squealed. "Lucky! Punzie has shown me pictures in magazines, it looks so goddamn pretty! Oh man, I've always wanted to go! Hint, hint," she shouldered Sora, who just chuckled and scratched the back of his head.

"It was actually right as they were launching the lanterns that I saw her," Lea said, folding his arms atop the table now. "She was wearing this cute sundress. White with a lil diamond patterned hem. Split sleeves that were all flowy. Hair down and dancing in the slight breeze." Wow, he was really selling this. He'd even nailed that whole far away look in his eye, like he was seeing something the rest of us couldn't. "And the way those lanterns lit up her smile as she watched them float up, I knew my lowly mortal self was in the presence of a goddess. Knocked the wind right outta me."

"As did that lamppost," Rayne sniggered.

"As did that lamppost," he agreed with a chuckle.

Totally enthralled now, Kairi breathed, "So what happened next?"

"Yeah, what did happen next?" I grinned over at him, the barest note of a challenge to my tone. To the others, it probably just sounded like I was teasing him since obviously I was already supposed to know this story. But now I was almost as invested as Kairi and was genuinely curious where he'd go with it next.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked over at me and he leaned back, propping his elbows up on the back rim of the booth and once more slipping an arm behind my head. "Well after the lantern bit was over, I watched her get onto her train heading back to Traverse Town. So I did what any self-respecting, red-blooded, utterly bewitched male would do: I followed her."

"Stalker," Riku singsonged.

His wife smacked his leg, "Hush, it's sweet!"

He snorted, eyelids drooping, "Yeah, so sweet, the dumbass left his car behind in Corona."

"Psssh, I just took the train back for it later," Lea brushed off. "Anyway, when I found her on board, I sat across from her and worked up the nerve to strike up a conversation."

Rayne looked at me. "You? Talk to a handsome stranger on a train?" She squinted, repeating for emphasis, "You?"

"Heh… what can I say? He can be very charming," I smiled down at my drink, swirling the ice with my straw.

"Even with all of my roguish charm and devilish good looks though, it wasn't easy," Lea laughed. His hand had drifted down to start toying with my braid again. "But she warmed up to me eventually. By the time we arrived at Traverse Town, I was completely smitten. A total goner. She still needed more convincing though, so I managed to persuade her into joining me for a night out on the town. Luckily for me, Traverse Town has a very active night life that goes on for hours long after most other cities have gone to sleep."

"Yeah? Like what?" Sora burbled out around a mouth full of chips, making Kairi giggle as she put a hand over his face to hide it.

He pursed his lips to one side, looking up at the ceiling, "Oh, nothing too exciting. Few odds and ends here and there though… wandering around a record store… a café with a palm reader… a street poet at one sidewalk corner, a belly dancer at another, some stargazing in a park…" Now he smirked over at me, "A carnival with a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel."

A mock gasp from Rayne, "Scandal! And you with a fiancé, young lady!"

I looked away, suddenly feeling guilty and flustered over something that hadn't even really happened. "...ferris wheels can be very enchanting."

And my streak of helping the lie along while not actually lying myself successfully continues!

"And then, and then?" Kairi insisted impatiently, just eating this whole bit of fiction right up.

He chuckled and shrugged, "Just mostly a lot of meandering the streets and talking. We were out all night and watched the sunrise together. Eventually, she had to go meet up with her sister so they could move on to another city for the next leg of their lil vay-kay. But I didn't let her leave without agreeing to meet with me again in a few months."

Kairi was slackjaw now as she whispered, "And did she?"

"Mm-hm!" he hummed happily. "And from there, we kept meeting up, our little get-togethers getting longer and more frequent over time."

"Then what?" She was relentless.

A wolfish curl tugged at one side of his mouth. "What else? I slowly seduced her until she fell helpless into my bed, hungry for the pleasure only I could give her," he waggled his eyebrows.

Of course I'd chosen that exact second to be taking a sip of my drink. And of course I promptly spluttered and choked on it. "Excuse me?" I coughed, laughing incredulously as I elbowed him in the gut.

He gave a pained grunt, but grinned and snagged my hand before I could retract it, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "I mean that in the most gentlemanly and respectful way possible, of course," he winked at me before looking back over at Kairi. "From there, I convinced her to run away from her family and ditch her two-bit, loser fiancé to be with me. And the rest, as they say, is history!"

"Wow!" she sighed dreamily, slumping back and fanning herself. Then she blinked, "Wait…" A gasp. "Oh my god! You swore off dating about a year ago, which was last summer! Was it cuz that's when you two met and it was love at first sight?!"

"Huh. The two certainly seem to line up perfectly, don't they?" he chirped. He'd rested my hand back down onto the table, his on top of mine, threading our fingers together.

Our waiter popped up again just then. "Your food will be just another moment. In the meantime, please allow us to entertain you with some music." He then turned, clapped his hands twice and called out, "Miguel!"

Out charged a boy in his early teens wearing a red hoodie and lugging a guitar that was white, etched in swirly patterns, and nearly as big as he was. He flashed us a smile huge enough to rival one of Sora's and without further preamble, started strumming away and singing. The kid was actually really good too!

Kairi clapped in delight and Rayne cooed over how adorable he was. Sora gaped in awe at the boy's obvious talent while Riku just grinned, digging into the chips. As I watched him perform, I couldn't help but feel Lea's eyes on me once more instead of on our little musician. I shifted in my seat, slipping my hand free of his and bringing it up to tuck some bangs behind my ear, hiding the growing warmth I felt in my cheeks behind my fingers.

At this rate, I didn't know how I was going to survive fake dating this guy for the rest of the evening, let alone for two more weeks.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Lea's hand closed around mine, stopping me in my tracks. I glanced over my shoulder at him, then back towards where Rayne and Riku were climbing into their car across the parking lot. "With them?"

"Ahhhnt," he made a buzzer noise, grinning. "Wrong! Would the contestant care to venture another guess?"

I gave him some side-eye, feeling one corner of my lips turn up. "...with you?"

"Bingo!" He started walking towards his car, gently tugging me along with him. "I was already so rudely denied my god-given right as the boyfriend to pick you up from your place. No way am I missing out on giving you a lift over to the movie theater. Same goes for driving you back home later tonight, so better make your peace with it now. It's happening."

I felt my smile twitch a fraction wider as I fell into step beside him. "I suppose being my chauffeur is quite the honor and privilege. Wouldn't want to take that away from you."

"Glad that's settled then," he gave a chipper nod, unlocking the front passenger door of his vehicle and holding it open for me as I got in. As he then jogged over to the driver's side while I buckled in, there was a loud meep meep of a car horn and I looked up just as a hot pink Jeep blurred past where we were parked - Kairi and Sora, it seemed, going on to the cinema ahead of us. I waved at them just as Lea had settled in himself and started the engine.

"So," I began once we were on the road, resting my temple against my knuckles with my elbow propped on the window sill, still grinning as I watched him out of the corner of my eye, "you took a road trip last summer?"

He gave a low hum of confirmation, reaching over to turn down the volume on the rock oldies station coming through the radio. "Decided to have one last big adventure before I really buckled down and started taking school seriously. Did a lil soul searching, that whole shtick."

"Ah." My gaze focused on the road ahead once more and I hesitated for a second, gnawing on my lower lip. "...that was a nice story you told. About how we met."

Lea chuckled, leaving one hand on the wheel while moving the other to lay atop the headrest of my seat. "Liked it, didja?"

"Oh definitely." Now I hid my growing smile behind my hand, trying to keep a straight face. "Though I have to admit, I think I was a bigger fan of the original movie adaptation."

I watched him visibly stiffen. "The…?"

Tapping a curled finger to my chin, I muttered, "What was the title again? Before Sunrise, I believe?"

He snerked, then broke out into a full laugh. "Crap, ya caught me. Yeah, I may have borrowed from the plot there a tad."

"Just a bit," I shook my head at him. "You're lucky Sora and Kairi haven't seen the film."

"Kinda surprised you have," he turned the car down a road that would take us towards the mall. "Pretty sure it's older than you are."

"Nothing wrong with old movies," I shrugged before wrinkling my nose at him slightly with a tiny smile. "Kind of sappy though. Wouldn't have thought that'd be your kind of movie."

Looking my way, he smirked, "What can I say? I'm a sappy guy. And hey, at least I didn't steal everything from that flick."

"True. The stuff before the train was all you."

"You helped," Lea pointed out as he pulled up to a stop sign. He then tapped his index against the steering wheel a couple times. "...outta curiosity, why'd you say Corona? Out of all the other places you must of visited on your trip, what made you pick that city?"

As the car accelerated once more, I tilted my head in thought. "Don't know really… I guess I just felt it would be a nice place to meet someone new in. That'd it make for a good story." I paused, watching some tail lights streak past us. "...the lantern festival really was beautiful. Have you ever seen it?"

Lea shook his head as he glanced up at the rearview before shifting lanes, "Nah. Had plans to on the road trip, but something else came up."

"A shame," I sighed wistfully. "You missed out."

"Wouldn't say that," he murmured, a warm flicker in his eyes. "'Sides, there's always next time."

"Suppose that's true," I nodded. "Nice touch, by the way, describing the dress I was wearing. I think I might even own one that's pretty close to it." Don't think I'd been wearing it in Corona though. But I couldn't really remember. It had been over a year ago after all.

He laughed again, fingers combing his scalp before returning the hand to my seat, now on a spot next to my ear. "Well, I did help you pack your clothes from your old condo just a couple days ago. I probably saw it then."

"Good point." That made sense. It would have been too much of a coincidence if that'd actually been what I'd had on that day. But now… should I be worried that I hadn't really been in that dress? What if someone found out the mismatch in the story? No… no, that was just me overthinking things again. Even if the tale ever reached the ears of the Duke's goon, it's not like they could go back in time to fact check. "Just one more thing now." My eyes narrowed at him, at odds with my grin. "Might want to edit the ending a bit."

"Which part?" he asked a touch too innocently, already turning us into the Dusk Town Center parking lot. "Running away to be with me? Hasn't that been the story all along?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Try a little before that."

Wouldn't have thought it possible to both purse one's lips and smile at the same time, but Lea proved me wrong in that moment. "Hmm… oh! Well, figured wooing you over the course of months sounded more believable, but if you think it works better as weeks or even days, then-"

"No no. Little after that."

"Well then, now you got me stumped cuz I know you just couldn't possibly be talking about the absolute masterpiece that was the slow seducing, helpless bed falling, pleasure hungry part."

A snort. "Why yes, actually, I could be talking about that and in fact am."

"But that's the best part!" he protested, turning to park in a space right next to a familiar Ford Focus. "It's the heart and soul, the very essence of the story! The pièce de résistance, the crowning glory."

With a good natured scoff, I unfastened my seatbelt as the car shuddered into powering down. "Well decrown it because you're dropping that bit."

He lifted his chin slightly and gave a dignified sniff, "I am a storyteller, El. An arteest. You wouldn't ask Leonardo da Vinci to remove the smile from the Mona Lisa."

Well someone had a high opinion of himself. Which honestly came as zero surprise. I fixed him with a dull stare. "Drop it or your jacket gets a giant, sticky stain before the night is out." And with that, I opened my door.

Lea scrambled out of the car and rushed over to join me on my side just as I slammed the door shut behind me. He had the decency to only spend a couple seconds looking mildly miffed at having been denied the opportunity to open and hold the car door for me before his frown melted into a smile once more. "Jeez, blackmail? Never thought you'd stoop so low. But eh," he shrugged, "jacket's black, it'll be fine."

"You're failing to see the big picture here," I crossed my arms as I waited for Rayne and Riku to get out of their own vehicle. My guess was they were probably going for another round of Seven Minutes in Heaven in there. Smirking at Lea, I elaborated, "Because then I'll wash it."

"Egads," he mocked gasp, splaying a hand against his chest, "the horror."

My smirk curled wickedly. "In a washing machine."

As my roomies finally vacated their car (faces flushed, I might add), Lea actually paled. "But it's dry clean only!"

"That's right," I said smugly and turned to walk away. "So nix that line or the jacket gets it."

"You fight dirty," he muttered as he caught up to me, slipping his hand into mine. However, he was grinning.

Huh. That wasn't what I'd been expecting. IE the face of a man who'd just suffered a crippling defeat by my hands.

I narrowed my eyes up at him. "You certainly seem pretty happy about the impending, inevitable demise of your jacket."

Now the grin was joined by a dimple as we walked. "Well, it's just that in order for you to make good on your threat, you have to take my jacket hostage. Meaning you're gonna hafta keep it after all." His head dipped down closer to mine as he swung our hands slightly. "I count that as a win for me."

...well crud.

Score one for Lea there.

Shrieks and giggles suddenly erupted behind us before Sora tore past us towards the mall's entrance with Kairi riding piggyback. Rayne laughed and tugged Riku into a stumble behind her so they could catch up while Lea and I continued to take our time, bringing up the rear.

We made our way through the food court and over to Cinema XIII. The manager with long, silver hair that I'd seen there last time was present again, off to one side where he was setting up a huge cardboard display for the latest Star Wars movie. I watched him scowl and fiddle with the lifesize lightsaber cutouts as our group purchased tickets from a blonde chick with a weird hairdo that kind of resembled antennae. As we'd approached, I could have sworn I'd seen her boredly cleaning her fingernails with a small knife, but there was no sign of the blade by the time we'd reached her register. Perhaps my eyes had just been playing tricks on me.

Tickets for our whodunit comedy flick in hand, we then moved over to concessions which was being worked by that same teen with the emo haircut that I'd also spotted here a couple weeks ago. He hardly glanced up from the book he was reading as Riku and Rayne ordered snacks and drinks from him, Sora waiting in line behind them with Kairi still latched onto his back.

"Alright, whatcha want? My treat," Lea asked as he watched the flat screens hanging behind the counter scroll flashy ads for crisp, buttery popcorn and fizzing, bubbly soda.

I blinked. "What?" Then I frowned at him. "Oh no, not happening. You already paid for dinner despite my multiple protests. I'm not letting you buy me candy too."

We were only fake dating after all, and I wouldn't even want to make a real boyfriend pay for everything!

"But it's my right as-"

I put my finger to his lips, silencing him as my eyelids drooped. "Enough with playing the boyfriend card already. You're having too much fun with that."

He puckered up and planted a tiny peck on my fingertip, sending a small jolt straight to my heart as I quickly jerked my hand back. He chuckled, "Just tell me what your fave candy is."

"Shouldn't you be able to guess?" I arched an eyebrow, stubbornly ignoring the way the tip of my finger still had a slight tingle. "Isn't that like your special gift or whatever?"

"Only with ice cream," he lightly corrected.

"Right," I crinkled my eyes at him. "How's that coming along again?"

His shoulders bobbed up and down. "It's a process."

"My turn!" Sora suddenly proclaimed loudly in front of us, dropping Kairi off his back and spinning around to get behind her.

His girlfriend gasped, "Sora no!"

"Sora yes!" he cackled, jumping onto her back, arms hugging her shoulders tight and legs wrapping around her waist as her hands automatically shifted to grasp beneath his knees. To her credit, she managed to stand for three whole shaky seconds before collapsing beneath her boyfriend's weight into a tangled heap on the floor with him.

Ah, to be young.

Never mind the fact that I was pretty sure I was only like a year older than them.

With a soft snort through my nose, I glanced back at Lea. "Well, while you keep processing, I'm going to go find our seats."

I turned to go, but he pulled me back with the hold he still had on my hand. "C'mon, just lemme buy ya something small," he insisted as he hopped over the Sora/Kairi knot that was still trying to disentangle itself, forcing me to gingerly step over the two of them as well.

Shaking my head with a sigh, I said, "Why won't you just let it go?"

He beamed. "Cuz what schmoopsie-poo wants, schmoopsie-poo gets."

Oh no he didn't.

"Uh-uh, no. Veto. You are not calling me that," I jabbed a finger into his chest.

There was a sly gleam to his eye. "Tell me what candy you want or I won't stop."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna bet?" he flashed a toothy grin as we stepped up to the counter now that my roommates had stepped off to one side, already munching away at their newly purchased sweets. "You'll think you died and went to schmoopsie-poo heaven."

I gave a small huff and looked away. "Small price to pay. Not budging on this."

"Fine. You've forced my hand." He turned his head to the concession worker, slapping his palm down on the countertop and proudly declaring, "I'll have one of everything, my good man!"

"What?! No, no, stop, he's joking," I hastily told the cashier, who froze mid-ringing the order up as he gave us a flat look with the one blue eye not hidden behind bangs. To Lea, I whispered, "What do you think you're doing?"

He shrugged, grin not faltering. "Figure ya gotta like at least one of 'em."

I stared at him. Then my shoulders slumped and I hung my head, grumbling, "...Junior Mints."

"You heard the lady," he chirped to the theatre employee. "And throw in a small popcorn and large Kupo-Kola too please!"

Once the junk food was acquired and paid for, we moved out of the way to join Riku and Rayne as Sora and Kairi bought their own goodies. While we were waiting, I opened up my candy and reached inside, retrieving a minty, chocolate-coated treat and popping it into my mouth.

"Can I have one?" Lea asked beside me.

I gave him a blank look. Then I glanced down at his hands, otherwise occupied with a full soda cup and a bag practically bursting with popcorn. Digging another Junior Mint out and holding it up between us, my gaze met his once more. "Say ahh."

Face brightening, his lips parted wide.

I inserted it into his nostril.

He blinked a couple times, then snorted which had the byproduct of dislodging the Junior Mint. "Okay, guess maybe I deserved that for being a lil pushy about getting you the candy."

"You most certainly did," I said matter-of-factly, eating another one. A pause while I slowly chewed before swallowing and mumbling, "...but thanks for doing it anyway."

"Heh. Don't mention it."

Kairi and Sora rejoined us then, arms piled high with sugary delights. Jeez, all that on top of the gigantic Mexican dinners they'd both devoured less than an hour ago? One had to wonder how the two of them managed to stay so skinny.

It didn't take long for us to locate our theater and when we entered, all the lights were dimmed for the trailers that had already started to play. We quietly found our seats close to the middle of the auditorium and we settled into them, Lea to the right of me and making up one end of our group while Rayne took up my other side, the rest of the gang to her right. It seemed the cinema had recently renovated with new, barely-used cushiony sofa seating, the kind that reclined.

As I pushed the button that popped out the chair's footrest and made myself more comfortable, I caught a glimpse of the others. Half way through a strand of red licorice, Rayne flinched when Riku was suddenly in her face and chomping down on the other end of the candy. Grinning, he took a few more bites, bringing their lips closer together until he could give her a smooch before pulling away, looking quite pleased with himself as she blushed and snerked, giving his shoulder a light shove. Kairi was tossing Milk Duds towards Sora's open, awaiting mouth and rewarding him with little kisses every time he successfully caught one.

Worrying my lower lip between my teeth, I glanced towards Lea out of the corner of my eye as he crunched away on some popcorn. Should we be acting all… couply right now? Like the others were? I mean, it was a dark theater… did we really need to keep the act up in here too? Would anyone really notice? Then again, I'd noticed our friends being all sickeningly cute and I hadn't even been trying to, my eyes had just wandered. So maybe it wasn't such a stretch to consider the two of us were also possibly being observed, even in here.

My gaze flicked down to the armrest I shared with Lea. It was wide enough for both our arms to lay on it side by side, elbows touching. He wasn't holding my hand at the moment, instead just resting his about an inch away from mine. Which, now that I noticed, actually felt a bit weird, oddly enough. I guess I was starting to get used to it. But perhaps I should look at this as an opportunity for some more practice. An exercise in me being the one for once to initiate a display of affection. I seriously couldn't get away with him being the one to start it all the time, right? Surely, I had to act like I liked him too.

Which, to be fair, I kind of did.

Even if it was a secret.

But now I had to wonder how does one go about, ah… what was the term? ...making a move? I'd never had to do it with my ex. I'd never particularly felt the urge, nor had he ever really encouraged me to have more initiative in that area. He'd always been the one to take charge and that seemed to be the way he'd liked it. It seemed to be what was expected of our relationship, by him, by my family, by the world of upper society that I had lived in for so long. But I was no longer in that world. Things were different here. I was different. And I needed to show that to my parents. And one way I could show that was by doing this.

So then… exactly how do I do this?

...well I suppose I could start by moving my hand in the general direction of his. Seemed simple enough… right?

Gulping and holding my breath, I slowly, oh so very slowly started reaching for his hand. As my fingers crept closer, the pounding in my ribcage grew louder and louder. A hairbreadth away from skin contact, I hesitated, what little courage I'd mustered already dwindling. But after a second, my face hardened. I needed to do this. For the sake of Operation Boyfriend But Shh Not Really. For the sake of a continued future free from my parents' control. With a newfound resolve burning in my chest, I pushed on.

My pinky barely brushed against his knuckle.

Nope! No way. Mm-mm, not happening!

I snatched my hand back, blushing furiously.

The blush of a failure. Pathetic.

However the touch, no matter how light and brief, hadn't gone unnoticed. Lea glanced my way, his head tipping slightly. Then he smiled, shifting his popcorn out of his lap over to his right while moving the soda from the cupholder between us to the one on his other side. Then he lifted the armrest separating us, folding it back between our chairs before slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close so my head was pillowed by his chest.

I tensed for several seconds before relaxing against him, clearing my throat and, if possible, blushing even harder.

Well then.

Guess I no longer needed to worry about us not looking couply.

Even if I hadn't been the one to initiate.

...tomorrow. I would do a better job tomorrow.

As the last of the trailers ended and opening credits for the movie began filling the big screen, Lea ducked his head down next to mine. I could feel him grinning against my ear as he whispered, "This boyfriend model comes equipped with all the latest technology, including hilarious movie commentary. Would you like that feature enabled now?"

I leaned my head back a bit as I turned to look him in the eye. He cocked a playful eyebrow at me. Feeling one corner of my lips tug up, I whispered back, "Commentary on."

"You got it."

I was not disappointed.

"Is this really totally necessary?"

"Oh absolutely. Your uncle's spies could be anywhere, ever vigilant and watching at all times."

"Even here? In the parking lot for my own apartment?" I frowned dubiously.

I could feel him nodding against my hair. "Especially here. I'll have you know I've seen at least three cars pass us already, each one more suspicious and shady than the last."

Date night had been a rousing success, if I did say so myself. We'd had a good time with friends, dinner was amazing and delicious, and the movie had been excellent. But as everyone knows, all good dates (even the fake ones) must come to an end. And at the end of every date, some sort of goodnight ritual is often at the very least customary, if not absolutely essential. Traditionally, this usually takes the form of the infamous goodnight kiss. However, since I'd already taken any sort of liplock completely and one hundred percent off the table, Lea had instead opted for a hug.

One… extremely and uncomfortably long hug.

...okay, that was a lie. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. In fact, was actually quite nice. Pleasant, even. Ten out of ten, would recommend.

We stood next to his car at the moment, my apartment building just a few yards away. After he'd parked and we'd both climbed out, he'd pulled my arms up to wrap around his neck, his hands once again finding their way under the leather jacket to encircle my waist, hugging me close as he'd rested his cheek atop my head. And so we had remained for quite some time now.

Kairi and Sora were no longer with us, having parted ways back at the mall, but I could see Rayne and Riku off to one side near their own vehicle, enthusiastically taking part in some cuddle time themselves while they waited for me. Which actually I really appreciated. Without their added presence here, I'd probably be getting a lot more awkward a lot more quickly about The Hug That Would Not End.

That said…

"We've been at this for at least five minutes now. Wouldn't you call that a bit, er.." I shifted my feet, resisting the urge to squirm, "...excessive?"

His hold on me didn't budge. "Gotta be convincing. 'Sides, we're obviously still in the honeymoon period of our relationship. You know, when the couple takes forever and a day telling each other goodbye a thousand times before actually leaving. Otherwise known as the No-You-Hang-Up-First phase."

My brow furrowed. "I thought that was only made-up for TV. Real people don't actually do that, do they?"

"Yup," I felt another nod. "Trust me, I'm an expert. I know these things."

I squinted off into space. "...haven't you only ever done one night stands?"

"Shush, I said trust me on this," he murmured.

And shush I did. I suppose I could look at this as a sort of… endurance training? Get me more used to his hugs so I'd be less awkward about them in public? Make them seem more natural? Yeah, okay. This might be good for me. Let's see how long I could keep this up.

...answer? Not long.

Tentatively trying to pull away, I began, "Alright, maybe we should-"

"One more minute," he insisted, squeezing me tighter and shifting his head down now to instead nuzzle against my neck. His nose was cold and his breath tickled against my skin, making my cheeks warm. Welp, so much for not squirming.

Huh. He really seemed to be taking this whole pretend boyfriend thing very seriously. This was some extreme dedication to the role.

And there my insides went all over again, doing the whole warm, fuzzy, squishy thing. Alright, just breathe. Deep, calming breaths. Remember: Conceal, don't feel.

...maybe just focus on the concealing part. The not feeling part was already a lost cause.

"Ya know," Rayne's voice suddenly piped up nearby, causing me to jump, "maybe you two don't have to say goodnight just yet." Lea straightened up, loosening his grip on me just enough for us both to turn our heads to see she'd joined us. Gracing us with a sly smirk, she said, "I mean, if you want to really drive this date home for any eyes that might be prying, Lea could always, ya know..." her eyebrows bounced as she leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially, "stay the night."

"What?!" My face erupted into blistering heat, the likes of which would've put the Sahara Desert to utter shame. "N...No! Absolutely not! How could you possibly even-"

She laughed, her finger booping my nose. "Relax, you silly goose. Of course he'd only sleep on the living room sofa! S'not like your grunkle's minion would have x-ray vision into our home."

Oh.

That's what she'd meant.

Well of course that's what she'd meant. It's not like she'd ever really suggest…

Actually, no, this was Rayne we were talking about here. I honestly wouldn't have put it past her.

She elbowed Lea in the arm, "So whaddya say, stud?"

He smiled, removing one hand from my waist to rub at the nape of his neck. "Well, I'd planned on getting some reading done for my classes tonight. But I do have my book bag in the backseat, so I suppose I could just as easily read here on your couch." His gaze shifted back down to mine, "That is of course, as long as you're okay with it!"

My face still recovering from its abrupt and devastating heatwave, I looked down and muttered, "Well, I… I suppose, ah… sure. Okay. I mean, just to keep up appearances… " My eyes flicked back up towards Rayne, "Thanks. I guess that's… actually a pretty good idea."

"Of course it is! I came up with it!" she beamed, planting her fists on her hips and puffing up her chest. Then she turned back to her husband, pressing her lips to his cheek as she linked her arm in his and led him over to the building entrance. Lea at last fully released me, but only long enough to unlock his car and pull out a messenger bag that looked heavy with textbooks. Kicking the door shut, he slung the strap of the bag over his head to hang across his chest before slipping an arm around my shoulders, grinning down at me as we followed the other two inside.

Once in our apartment, he removed the arm while Rayne pulled some spare pillows and bed sheets from the closet, tossing them onto the longest couch for Lea. Then grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, she unscrewed the cap and held her drink up high. "A toast! To Lea's sleepover! May it be the first of many!" she declared before tossing her head back to chug half the bottle.

Riku just snerked, shaking his head while Lea scratched his cheek with a weak chuckle and walked over to drop his bag on the sofa next to the blankets. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my fingers between my eyebrows with a soft sigh. Still, she had a point. I suppose it was only natural for my "boyfriend" to stay the night with some amount of frequency. Oh gosh, I hope this wouldn't be too much of an imposition on Lea.

As Rayne recapped the water bottle and put it down on the kitchen table, Riku stepped up to her, taking both her hands in his and pressing their foreheads together. "Hon, why don't we head to bed early tonight?" he asked, tone low and eyes hooded.

"Mmm," she breathed him in, smiling up at him through lowered lashes and nodding, "sounds good." As he pulled her towards their bedroom, Rayne glanced back at us. "Good night, you two! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she winked and waved before disappearing through the door, closing it behind her.

Silence followed. It felt strangely sudden and almost deafening.

I slowly turned to look at Lea.

He looked back, giving me a tiny smile.

That's when it struck me.

This was the first time in two full days I'd been alone with Lea. Like, really alone. Not in public, not where we had to put on the boyfriend-girlfriend act. Even when it'd just been the two of us in his car earlier tonight, even then we'd still had kind of been in the relative safety of pretend date mode. Besides, driving around in a car was completely different from being alone with him here, now, in my apartment late at night. Now that there was no more reason for all the hand holding, forehead kisses, and other little touches, things felt… well I wouldn't exactly say wrong per se, but more felt just kind of… off?

Panic was beginning to set in.

My mind was drawing a total blank.

I… didn't know how to be around him now. Not when we didn't have to fake a relationship anymore.

I'd forgotten how to act normal.

I think he could sense it too. The weirdness that had suddenly popped up out of nowhere. His eyebrows knit together, his gaze shifting about for a couple seconds. Then he opened his mouth to say something.

"Good night!" I loudly blurted out first.

Then I was in my bedroom so fast, you would have thought I'd spontaneously developed the power to teleport.

I slammed the door shut behind me, pressing my spine flat to it, eyes wide and taking shallow breaths through my nose. A few seconds passed where I just forced myself to inhale and exhale slowly a few times, trying to calm down. Then I winced, lightly banging the back of my head against the door.

Good job, Elsa. Way to make things mildly awkward. And for no real reason at all, you useless, hermitic dope!

With a small scowl, I shrugged out of the leather jacket and tossed it onto my bed. Then I unzipped my ankle boots, kicking them off and started pacing the length of my room back and forth, my hands twisting at my braid.

I couldn't just leave things like that. I had to talk to him. I had to toughen up and find an excuse to march my butt back out there. But what excuse?

My feet paused mid step as I glanced around my room for a minute before landing on one of my walls. Not just any wall. The one I shared with Riku's and Rayne's bedroom. Then I lightly tapped one fist into my palm. That's it! I quickly moved to my nightstand, opening the top drawer. Amongst its contents was a plastic baggie of earplugs. Digging out a pair and dropping the bag back into the drawer before closing it again, I then stepped over to my door. I took a second to take a deep breath and gather myself, standing up straighter and flicking my braid back behind me. Then with a firm, determined nod, I turned the knob and pulled, walking back out into the living room.

Lea was sitting on the couch that would be doubling for his bed tonight, arms splayed out wide to either side atop its backrest while he read the textbook that laid open in his lap. He'd pulled his hair out of its ponytail so his crimson locks were once again wild and free and he'd taken off his long-sleeved undershirt, now just wearing the tee.

Looking up at me, he all but leapt up to his feet. "El! Hi! I-" he grunted as the book he'd apparently forgotten was in his lap crashed down hard onto his foot.

I sucked in a tiny breath through my teeth with a frown, taking a step forward and reaching a hand out, "You okay?"

"Fine," he groaned. "I didn't need that toe anyway. It was only holding me back. Just dead weight." He laughed it off as he picked the textbook up off the floor, tossing it behind him onto the cushions before crossing his arms, "So, was there, ah… did you forget something?"

"Yes," I took a little step towards him, then frowned, glancing away. "Well, no…" I started to take a step back before catching myself. Wrong way, dork. "That is to say, sort of… er, I just...hm…" I thrust one fist forward, opening it palm facing up to reveal the earplugs, "Here!"

He stared down at them blankly. Then at me.

"Oh!" I gasped. "Right! Some sort of explanation would probably help." I gave a nervous heh. "So… uh… you know, those two," I gestured with my chin towards my roommates' bedroom door, "well, they just… the look they were giving each other before they went to bed, it's… well, it's a look I'm very familiar with from them. You know the look, the kind that should come with its own Marvin Gaye soundtrack. And those two… when they get going, they can really rattle the old headboard, if you know what I mean." A beat. Then I blanched. "Of course you know what I mean! Right, moving on. So uh… they are not quiet about it and they're definitely not quick. And these walls? They're thin. I'm talking like tissue paper thin. And not even the good Kleenex Deluxe kind of tissue, more like the cruddy, two-bit kind you'd get at the dollar store that just disintegrates if you even so much as breathe on it." Great, now I was just plain babbling. "These walls may as well not even be there for all the sound they block. Or rather, don't block. Then again, if they weren't there, then we'd not only hear but also see-" Wrap it up, girl, wrap it up. "A-Anyway! So just… just take these. You'll thank me later, believe me."

His eyes crinkled and he nodded, plucking them from my hand. "Alright, I'll take your word for it. Thanks."

Good. Okay. Yes, this was going well.

...huh. Though… slight hitch in the plan…

What now? I hadn't exactly thought this far ahead.

Maybe this was enough. I could now just make a graceful exit, leaving things in a better place than where I had previously. Yeah, that sounded good.

I gave him a tight-lipped grin, inching backwards as I pointed towards my room. "Okay then, I think I'll just…" But as I turned, my eyes landed on Rayne's and Riku's door again and I froze and grimaced. "Ah, shoot," I hissed under my breath.

"Problem?" I heard Lea ask behind me.

I shook my head, "I meant to ask Rayne to unzip my dress before she went to bed since the zipper is just where I can't reach and-" I blinked, then glanced over my shoulder at him sheepishly before fully turning to face him. "And why am I even telling you this? Forget I said anything. It's nothing, I'll figure it out."

"I can do it," he tossed the ear plugs onto the coffee table between us before stepping around it.

Waving my hands rapidly back and forth in front of me, I said, "No, it's fine. Really, you don't have to-"

"Don't be silly, just let me help you," he came to stop in front of me.

I tucked in my lower lip. Maybe I was just being silly about this. I mean, what was the big deal? Really? "...o-okay," I sighed, turning my back to him once more and sweeping my braid forward over one shoulder, running my hands down its length a few times. At least my old nemesis, The Blush, had the common courtesy to wait until I was no longer looking at Lea before creeping its way up into my cheeks.

I could sense him taking another step closer to me, could hear his gentle breathing as I felt his fingers undo the clasp at the top of the zipper. One of his fingertips incidentally grazed my skin and I couldn't stop a tiny shiver. Then there was a pause. Like… a long pause. I frowned straight ahead, uncertain. Nothing seemed to be happening. I turned my head slightly, stopping just short of actually being able to look back at him. "...everything okay?"

"Uh… yeah, the uh…" he cleared his throat, "...the stupid thing just got stuck for a sec there, but it's all good now." At last, the sound of the dress unzipping reached my ears. "There ya go, you're all set!"

My hand darted to clutch at the back of my dress, holding it together as I whipped around to face him. My blush? Only seemed to be growing in strength. I started backing away, "Th-thanks… for that. That was really… something. Nice! That was nice. Of you. To do that… for me. I-" I crashed into my door frame and stumbled. "Oops. Heh. Who put that there? Um… anyway…"

And on that eloquent and fully formed note, I dashed into my room, banging the door closed. Then I puffed out a breath, slumping down to sit on the floor as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Great. Just dandy. I hadn't left things mildly awkward this time. Oh no, I'd only left them mega, ultra, super awkward now. Progress! Superb. Just perfect.

That's it. It's decided. I'm not fit for human contact. I was just going to barricade myself in this room and never come out ever again. Ever. Period. The outside world would be better off without me anyhow. Good bye, people. Hello, sweet sweet solitude. I-

I heard a muffled buzz and my head snapped up. It'd come from Lea's jacket on my bed. I squinted at it for a second. Then it clicked. My phone! I half crawled, half scrabbled over to it, digging into the pocket and pulling it out, swiping the screen.

There was a new text from Lea.

2nite was fun

I blinked, looking over at my door. Then back down at my phone, pursing my lips to one side. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a second. Then slowly I began to type.

I thought so too.

I waited as those three little dots hopped in a row.

We shud totes do it again sometime

A huff of amusement escaped through my nose, the tension starting to leave my body.

I'd really like that.

Then I tipped my head to one side, grinning slightly as I tapped away further.

I'm paying next time though.

The dots were dancing on my screen again.

Aight, if u insist. But b warned, Im not a cheap date

Now I actually laughed.

I can live with that.

Perhaps I'd been a bit too hasty. Maybe there was no need to barricade myself in here. Not just yet anyway. I'd hold off for a bit.

At least long enough to see what tomorrow would bring.

Author's Note: Anyone else notice Lea's shirts seem to be getting tighter and tighter every new excuse he has to see Elsa out of his work clothes? I think he's subconsciously putting on a courtship display to present himself as a sexually viable mate xD Ahem, moving on… Fun Fact 1: Fuente Del Oro is a real, Coco-themed restaurant over in Disneyland Park in Paris! Google translate says the name means "Gold Fountain", oooOOooo pretty! I really hope Coco makes it into one of the future KH games eventually! Fun Fact 2: Elsa's dress this chapter is inspired by her purple dress from when she sings Into The Unknown in Frozen 2! Just picture it shorter and more cocktail-dressy. And I know in the movie, that purple dress is a nightgown, but shhh, we'll just forget that part. And the dress Lea described in his "how we met" story? Loosely based on Elsa's Show Yourself dress - again just picture it shorter, more practical and more sundressy xD Also if you haven't heard of it, Before Sunrise is a real movie, not to mention a real SAPPY movie. Kind of slow, but cute. I'd actually never heard of it until I started writing this chapter - saw a gif go by on tumblr of the lead couple from the movie doing something adorable that made me go "oh gosh, that's SO Lea and Elsa!" and had to watch it xD I'm kind of happy it came along when it did though, cuz it gave me inspiration for Lea's "how we met" story :)

Next chapter, what new challenges will Elsa face in her adventures in fake dating? Will she ever be able to work up the courage to initiate a display of affection herself? Just how much of a "not a cheap date" is Lea really? What about his shirts? CAN they get any tighter? Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[kytcordell]

Why Do I Create?

Compulsion

I cannot stop creating.

In fact, I’ve tried--multiple times. There have been so many occasions on which the frustration and self-loathing associated with creative pursuits was psychologically crippling to the point where I did try and stop. But I never stopped inventing stories in my mind. I never stopped creating characters. I never stopped following artists I liked, basking in distant envy at the skills I believed I could never attain.

It has taken me a lifetime to really distill the true reason behind why I create. As much I would like to say that I’ve “always just loved drawing and expressing myself,” this simply wouldn’t be true nor an accurate representation of the relationship I have with art. At this point, I’m not sure if the word “passion” or “love” quite captures why I create. I would describe it more as a feverish need--a compulsion. I actually don’t even quite see myself as the “owner” of my works or ideas, but rather, as the vessel which serves them. Every ounce effort I put toward creative endeavors is a means of honing myself into a more suitable vehicle for delivering ideas into being.

For most of my life, I had an extremely pathological and maladaptive sense of self that resulted from nearly 26 years of physical and psychological abuse. It took me a long time to even recognize that what happened to me was in fact abuse. I used to shy away from the word because it seemed too self-pitying and dramatic. It still sometimes feels that way, despite the fact I objectively know that if anyone (let alone a parent) ever pulled a knife on me now, I would call the police without a second thought.

I won’t go too much into the details of what happened because it isn’t really worth delving into. But I was essentially raised as if I were an investment fund and not a person. My entire purpose was to be useful so my mother could stop having responsibilities of any kind. I was not raised with own personal well-being and future stability in mind. This meant that a non-lucrative career was unacceptable. My art was ever only appreciated in the context of bragging rights or winning awards. This of course, manifested in my relationship with creative pursuits.

Narcissism

My adolescent motivations for drawing were fueled mostly by pure, unadulterated narcissism.

I drew semi-seriously throughout high school. By that, I mean I quickly figured out what kinds of skills were considered impressive for that age group and did well at shows and competitions. I wanted to feel superior and adored at any cost, and while I embodied the external talking points of “being humble, always learning, etc.” deep down, I clung to the idea that I was better than everyone else. I couldn’t handle critique emotionally, despite acting receptive. I was completely consumed by the idea of being some kind of perfect, “talented” golden child.

I managed to get very good at copying photos and rendering, while neglecting all the skills that contribute to being able to design characters or draw from imagination. I didn’t really pursue art with any real level of personalized focus. I just liked feeling like I was better than people and knew more than the other kids. Honestly, every single aspect of my life revolved around this mentality.

I held onto the idea of “being good” as a trophy because that was the only mode of thought that my psyche could accept. It was easier to embrace narcissism and even just accept being a shallow social climber than to face the far more harrowing truth:

That I was afraid I’d never have the skills to manifest my ideas.

In fact, I talked myself into believing for ages that I didn’t care that much about my ideas. They would never amount to anything. And having self-indulgent, non-utilitarian attachments to my stories and OCs felt like a weakness. I needed to rationalize my own shortcomings with a guise of indifference.

Revererence

I stopped drawing for about seven years after high school. And even during high school, I didn’t do anything that remotely resembles the kind of ‘grind’ that I’ve put myself through the last 2.5 years. Frankly, I’m amazed I got as far as I did even with being a human copy machine that produced lifeless 1:1 images of candles. With each year I passed, I grew increasingly uncomfortable with the fact I always knew deep down--I just wasn’t that good. I mean, I was pretty good for a guy in high school. But my holistic sense of composition, invention, and execution was near non-existent. I went through a few attempts of returning to art, only to be so overwhelmed with my own incompetence that I would just go back to the “I don’t care that much about art” script I had gotten so good at conning myself into.

It was not until I had a complete mental breakdown due to my psychotic cunt of a mother threatening my safety and sanity that my long-con finally broke. I had a moment where I just accepted that I had no fundamentals, my skills were trash, and most of all--I was not okay with them being trash. From that point, I started desperately seeking out resources and practicing to improve. Receiving criticism (while I really appreciated it objectively) was psychologically devastating to me. Every single imperfection was a reminder of “lost time” and the years I had spent lying to myself.

It wasn’t until I discovered Loomis, Hampton, Draw-a-Box, Proko, and many other reputable art resources that I managed to start hitting the pavement and making the kind of gains I wanted. I drew sometimes for 12-16 hours a day even while I was homeless and living on a friend’s couch due to having to flee my home at the time.  Through all of this, I shed all my notions of “being talented” or needing to delude myself into feeling like I was good. No, I was dogshit and I needed to do something about. I think the biggest hurdle people face when trying to get good at anything is accepting that they are bad. You cannot improve until you fully and wholeheartedly accept that you have problems that need fixing.

I went from approaching things from a place of narcissism to a place of reverence. A lot of what instilled this change in me was observing people that I admire. Those that are highly competent (in any craft) tend to be realistic and humble about their shortcomings. The very process of attaining mastery forces you to realize that there is an infinite scale of improvement. This isn’t to say that people who are good can’t also get full of themselves. But at least among the individuals I gravitate towards, there is a general sense of reverence and genuine modesty. On the other hand, people who are mediocre frequently have very large egos. Unfortunately, there is a lot egotistical, irrational, whiny-bitch anti-progress behavior that is prevalent in art circles. I realized just how cancerous conceit and ego could be. It had destroyed my progress for years and I was watching complete hacks insist they were gods atop mount stupid. It was truly the Dunning-Krueger effect in action.

Many of the people I encountered in the art community early on were pretty mediocre and had a terrible sense of fundamentals. Again, this would be fine if they didn’t insist on acting like experts on the topic. (Plenty of people draw for fun and don’t care about being good and there is nothing wrong with purely pursuing something for leisure.) However, I unfortunately ran into quite a few extremely petty people had no idea of how to actually get good at anything, and were annoyed at the fact I had prioritized working on fundamentals. People that I engaged in good faith soon attempted to derail conversations and questions I had about technique and improvement. Crabs in a bucket bullshit, really.

Anyone knows me also knows that I have no tolerance for bullshit or “UwU bitches” making “it’s my style” excuses for being technically incompetent. (Which isn’t to say accuracy is always more important than style, but using “style” or “aesthetic” as an excuse for a lack of skill or competence is extremely common among mediocre artists). Likewise, I also encountered people who manifested narcissism in the opposite direction. The opposite of the “it’s muh style” camp were people who endlessly liked to talk about theoretical technical knowledge. Sometimes they were good at one skillset or another, but generally lack any kind of concept or actual artistic vision. It was like they had lost sight of expression goals in favor of shit talking and dropping advanced art vocabulary.

I realized that no amount of shit-talk, posturing, or external validation was going to make me good at art. I always knew that, but watching people descend into the abyss of self-sabotage just reminded me what was at stake. I would rather never “feel” like I was superior than run the risk of delusional overconfidence. Likewise, I broke out of the trap of thinking technical skill could somehow compensate for a lack of good ideas or artistic vision. Nothing matters more than the clarity of expression, and skill is but a conduit for said expression. I would rather feel eternally small and striving for a forlorn dream than run the risk of being 10 years down the road cranking out trashy, vapid content while thinking I’m some kind of omnipotent art god.

I draw because I cannot stop. It’s like being touched by fire that you cannot quell or erase. I work to improve because I want to depict my stories and characters with the finesse, nuance, and artistry that I admire in so many others. I truly feel there is no point in pursuing art seriously if you do not have a voice, a “vision” for why you create. Looking back, the motivation that kept me going through the hardest struggles was the desire to succeed in communicating my stories and concepts. I am but an acolyte eternally striving for even a brief glimpse of an ephemeral muse.

[questionsonislam]

Is one asked if he wanted to be created and tested?

Let us observe ourselves. Imagine you were an artist or a sculptor. In order to see that talent in you and to show it to others, draw a picture or make a sculpture of a stone, a tree, an animal, a woman and a man. Amongst them, give the ability to speak and comprehend only to the ones in form of human beings.

Let us observe ourselves. Imagine you were an artist or a sculptor. In order to see that talent in you and to show it to others, draw a picture or make a sculpture of a stone, a tree, an animal, a woman and a man. Amongst them, give the ability to speak and comprehend only to the ones in form of human beings.

Now, what would you say, how would you react if one of them objected to you and said “Why did you make me?”, “Why didn’t you ask me if I wanted to be a human being?”. Would you not at least say “I made you out of nothing; I made you not a stone, a tree or animal but the most precious of all. Although you are supposed to thank, why are you objecting?” Then, hearing such an objection, you would tear it apart and throw into the wastebasket. And you would put the one who was content with what it was to the best place and display it to everyone.

And if the stones around there said “if s/he is not content with what s/he is, let us change places” upon hearing it,, would they not be right?

So, my brother; that is what our state is as the most intelligent and the most precious beings. Although Allah gave us the most beautiful shape and features amongst everything, if we object, what would you do when an animal said “let us change our places” or “may Allah exterminate you and replace me with you”?

If Allah tore those objectors apart and threw them into the wastebasket, that is hell, and placed the one who was content in Heaven and endowed the most beautiful boons on him, would it not be the best of justice?

Allah created us to know Him and worship Him as He deserves. He also created the tools and devices which will enable that duty. That is to say, what is expected from us and what we are given are in harmony with each other and are balanced. Anyone who has a reasonable consciousness knows that there is not any injustice here.

On the other hand, expecting Allah to ask us if we wanted to be created or not, would be limiting Allah’s might. However, according to the consensus of the Islamic scholars, Allah cannot be questioned for His works. Nevertheless, nobody can say that any work or creation of His in the universe is without a reason or unfair because there is not a single occurrence in the universe which is unwise or groundless. Scientists who carry out detailed researches on the universe are amazed at the Divine wisdom.

Unwise and groundless occurrences cannot be seen in the universe; similarly can they not be seen in Islamic laws either. That is to say, Allah does not place upon as any burden that we cannot bear. Allah, who has given all animals, plants and lifeless beings duties, will definitely give us some duties. Otherwise, the wisdom present in the universe would seem meaningless to people. Allah, who is free from all kinds of meaninglessness in His works, is definitely supposed to place upon people burdens that they can bear.

Reason why Humankind was Created

It is possible to evaluate the issue from two different points of view. Firstly, all other beings work centered around humankind; they render service to humankind. In this sense, one thinks of two cases. It is necessary to state either that other beings recognize humankind, know their needs and take pity and show mercy on them, and thus trees bear fruits in order meet humankind’s need for vitamins and animals provide them with meat, milk and egg in order meet their need for protein… or that human beings do all of those things with their own power…

However, when considered carefully, it is understood that all beings work in order to meet human beings’ needs not because human beings take them under their control, overwhelm them or fight against them but because a Might - which processes the earth, air, water and fire as human beings cannot obtain their essential needs from them directly – gives human beings apples through trees, eggs through chickens, milk through sheep and filters the harmful rays through Atmosphere for human beings.

So, it can be said that all of those things do not occur because the human beings are powerful, mighty and dominant, but contrarily because they need help as their power is not enough to realize all those magnificent events; that is to say, they occur because human beings are weak and helpless. They are provided with boons because they do not have them; they are inspired because they are unknowledgeable and they are offered to meet their needs.

Upon that deduction, a question arises in one’s mind. Why did the Infinite Might, who makes all the beings work for humankind, create human beings and what does He want from them?

In order to answer that question, one needs to determine the difference between human beings and other beings very well.

Yes, Allah created human beings in the most distinguished form in the whole universe. Unlike all of the other beings, they are given a mind to comprehend benefits and aims of other beings, a consciousness to distinguish between good and bad, a skill to learn all knowledge, a heart to perceive hidden mysteries, a tongue to taste all those delights, a couple of eyes to see all fine details of the beauties and a couple of ears to hear all kinds of melodies and divine glorifications.

Allah the Glorious chose human beings, whom He created as the most prominent of all beings, to be His friends and addressed them. He let them know His orders and prohibitions through divine books He sent down for them and showed them the ways to happiness and rightfulness.

If human beings do not appreciate those elevated feelings and the organs given to them, they forget the Giver of them and become heedless of Him. They forget that they are creations and art pieces of Allah, that they are always under His discipline and supervision and that they live by the boons He has given them. Then they refuse to do the duties they have to do. Yes, one who knows himself and that the reason of his creation is worshipping Allah complies with that reason.

Evaluation of the issue from a different point of view

Visible balances present in the universe are each a reflection of justice. Accusing Allah, one of whose names is Haq (justice) and to whose unique justice the Universe bears witness with its ecological, astronomical and geological balances, of injustice is a significant injustice against truth.

Blaming Allah for all unfairness, exploitations, killings and murders is such a great disrespect and unfairness that it could cause the end of the world and trigger His wrath.

World is neither a paradise nor a place of remuneration; it cannot be a land of happiness and abundance for everyone. Those who come to the world pass away quickly, the youngsters grow old, people deal with troubles and problems all the time and they are staggered with the slaps of separations and longings. All of them point out that the reason why human beings were sent to the world is testing and trying them. They will travel to another world after completing their tests and have either the remuneration of passing the test or the punishment of failing it there.

Throughout the lifespan of humankind, which is a being tried, there are ups and downs. Divine Testing has – generally – two questions and two answers. One of those two questions is about hardships, troubles, problems and responsibilities. The other one is about wealth, abundance, relief, blessings and boons. Human beings live all through their lives either in an atmosphere of bliss and peace or of grief and sorrow. The answer to the first question is patience and the answer to the second one is thankfulness.

He is Allah who creates problems and ask human beings questions about them and expect the answer of patience from them and who creates the question of relief and asks human beings about it and expects the answer of thankfulness from them.

People are free to answer or not to answer those questions. However, they do not have the right to ask the form or style of questions to be changed because it is a Divine rule and cannot be changed. (see al-Ahzab, 33:62). One should keep in mind that tests are so important that they cannot be left to students’ preferences.

He is Allah who creates both good and evil in terms of fate. However, those who are tested are not puppets. They also play a role in the bad events that they experience. What one should be careful about is this: there are two aspects in every event which interest people:

First: Points related to Allah’s creation. That is to say; both good and evil are the creations of Allah. That is what Allah’s Oneness requires.

Second: Points related to occurrences and inclinations which are related to people’s earning and in which there is no act of creating and things which are reasons for Allah’s creation. That partial free will must be given to human beings so that they can be tried with their free will and they can be held responsible of the consequences. Therefore, it has been given to human beings so that justice can be practiced.

When we evaluate the issue from that perspective, we will realize that it is not as it is seen. For instance, if there is an illness, its creator is Allah. However, its aspects which do not indicate creation belong to human beings. For example, drinking cold water while one is in sweat is a fault of the person and he is responsible for being ill as a result. He is responsible for having sore throat and catching cold. Nevertheless, He is Allah who creates the illness. A virtuous person, like Prophet Abraham, thinks that badness belongs to him in terms of being a reason and goodness belongs to Allah in terms of being a creation; and says: “And when I am ill, it is He Who cures me.” (ash-Shu’ara, 26:80).

If we do not think like that, then, we should not get angry with anyone who breaks our arm or leg, who steals our property and even kills someone. And in this sense, Allah should not punish them. “Say, ‘The truth is from your Lord’. Let him who will believe, and let him who will, reject (it)” (al-Kahf, 18:29).

“If they accuse thee of falsehood, say: "Your Lord is full of mercy all - embracing; but from people in guilt never will His wrath be turned back. Those who give partners (to God) will say: "If God had wished, we should not have given partners to Him nor would our fathers; nor should we have had any taboos." So did their ancestors argue falsely, until they tasted of Our wrath. Say: "Have ye any (certain) knowledge? If so, produce it before us. Ye follow nothing but conjecture: ye do nothing but lie." Say: "With God is the argument that reaches home: if it had been His will, He could indeed have guided you all." (al-An’am, 6: 147-149).

We can interpret the statement “if it had been His will, He could indeed have guided you all” as it follows:

“O people! It is Allah’s job to determine how to try and test. If He had willed, He could have organized a testing which everyone would pass. Or, He would make all of you pass it and guide you to the straight way without any testing. Nobody could hinder Him. However, He wanted to distinguish between good and bad people, between hardworking and lazy students, between people who use their reasoning and suggest truth such as Abu Bakr and people who are arrogant and go after the desires of their lower-selves such as Abu Jahl. That is what justice requires.

Allah has many proofs with Himself to convince you that He does not torture people or treat them unfairly with that system. For this reason, know your limits, and trust in Him. He can hold everyone responsible and question everyone; however, nobody can question Him. Compared to His sea of infinite knowledge and wisdom, your knowledge is not even a drop of water.

Believe in His wisdom, trust in His mercy, hope for His forgiveness, believe that He will never behave unfairly and give in to Him as a Muslim so that you can find peace…”

[thirdchildart]

Hi there, I love your art/boards a whole lot!! I really want to be a storyboarder once I graduate, but sometimes I find it hard to create interesting/visually appealing boards, instead they look a bit flat and lifeless. Any tips on how to incorporate interesting perspective/composition?

So! Composition! I’m gonna start out with a disclaimer: any of these suggestions can be broken for artistic expression. These are starting points when it comes to building an interesting dynamic scene! BIG POST. CLICK THE READ MORE!!!

Composition is the arrangement of SHAPE, LINE, CONTRAST, or COLOR that leads your eye in a path around the screen.  You don’t want the audience to search the screen for info--they should find and follow easily.

FIRST THOUGHT: Where in the frame?

Where does your eye go on each of the following images? And why? Can you connect them to a sensation or emotion?

Faces will draw attention. Movement will draw attention. Bright against dark will draw attention. Dark against bright will draw attention. And, despite size, we will look at in-focus items first.

Avoid creating static, balanced shots ON ACCIDENT. Avoid straight lines, perfectly stiff characters, and perfect shapes.  Let your characters lean, slump, slouch, reach, stretch. Act in a mirror!  Act out your boards. Now, you can use precise/stiff drawings and symmetrical shots for style on purpose (it’s Wes Anderson’s signature). But if you don’t make an effort to put flow and rhythm in your composition, it will feel static and dead.  Organic, living, designed shots will have imbalance, they will have weighted area of the screen, and interesting use of blank spaces.

The movie screen has 5 specific areas most action takes place in: upper right, upper left, lower right, lower left, and dead center.

Since the point of a film is to cut from one shot to the next to the next to the next, we don’t want our audience to work too hard searching around the screen for their next point of information. So to avoid static, square compositions, story artists will think of the screen split into thirds.

And keep our points of interest along those lines, and those dots.

You can break out of this of course, but be kind to your audience. If you direct them to the far side of the screen, be kind and bring them back! Even with messy, simple drawings, I can help your eyes follow a simple story: Person lights a lighter.

We look at faces first--even ‘symbolic’ faces.  Those two dots? You know they are eyes.  You probably looked at the face first, then traveled down to that NEW blue spot in frame two, so I took you in for a closeup in panel 3 to get more information about this point of interest.  Did I leave the new point of interest in the same spot?  Nah, I bumped in a little closer to frame center.  This leaves your eye readier to jump to my next shot more easily.

SECOND THOUGHT: What’s the Line of Action?

When you looked from the eyes to the lighter in their hand, you followed my Line of Action for that composition.

Line of Action in an art sense is the path your eyes travel to gain the information in an image.  We usually start at the point of highest interest (a face, a bright spot in the dark, a green stone on the yellow sand) and then look around the frame to see what else we can learn.

When I storyboard, I focus on 4 basic lines of action: vertical, horizontal, diagonal left and diagonal right.  Below are some examples from movies.

Your eye can travel up and down one character, move back and forth between two points, or following around the screen to gather multiple pieces of info.

Put the characters in a clear and interesting distance from camera. How much of the screen does your character fill up?  Do we need to see their face, their body, or the set they are standing in the most clearly?  Does their body language act more, or subtle facial cues? Here’s those same shots with JUST the characters blocked in.  To you, what different information does each piece represent? What does the feeling of someone very far from camera say vs a face SO CLOSE we can see their pores?

Things moving through frame can also follow these lines!   Having something move closer or farther from camera can give you more interest.  

THIRD THOUGHT: How do my shots stitch together?

For very short shots cut close together, I use my line of action to make sure your eye is heading towards the next point of interest after the cut.  If the eye is moving left, the next shot should have focus on the left side of the screen.

Mad Max: Fury Road has lots of beautiful, varied compositions--but always keeps the point of interest super close to DEAD CENTER, so eyes don’t have to travel far at all to follow the fast action!

 In a slower scene, with longer cuts like a conversation, I’m fine with letting the audience bounce left and right, like watching a tennis match.  BUT I want each of those slower shots to be something slightly different and interesting either by changing the composition or acting (but this post isn’t ABOUT acting, so none of that today!!!!)

Hey, guest star time: Every Frame a Painting, can you talk to us about shooting conversation basics?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UE3jz_O_EM

(ALSO WATCH ALL OF TONY AND TAYLOR’S VIDEOS TO LEARN SO MUCH MORE THAN WHAT I COVER HERE)

A simple scene doesn’t mean complete repetition of shots. You can have similar compositions with slight differences that make them more interesting. AND we’re gonna back that up with an example drawn by one of my favorite board directors, Johane Matte.

Original found here: https://www.deviantart.com/rufftoon/art/Last-Airbender-Spoilers-02-170233494

Now, if your interest is built off of acting, repeating shots is a-ok! 

Take this sequence from the West Wing.  If you are unfamiliar with the episode, it’s Thanksgiving and Charlie, the President’s aide, has been trying to find a new carving knife for President Bartlett. Charlie has presented MULTIPLE knives throughout the episode, and the President has turned down every one so far. 

  https://youtu.be/LQlUVfz_qbg?t=21

I’d split this scene into 3 parts, plus a transition out.

Part 1: President and charlie banter, same energy level as they enter the scene. It’s a classic walk-and-talk that West Wing fans know--they switch around spots as they walk, are sometimes close, are sometimes far. It’s fun and interesting!

Part 2: The characters plant, and have a small face-off as Charlie respectfully confronts the president. Most of the shots are the same--it’s a shot reverse shot with the patter-patter-patter of the dialogue driving the cuts.

Part 3: When the emotion gets more intense, we cut in CLOSER and really let the actor reactions land.

Transition out, they say goodbye and Charlie walks away.

Now this is a simple scene driven by dialogue and the personality of each character. We don’t need EXTREME shots or incredible close-ups.  This scene has solid blocking, clear compositions, but isn’t flashy--it doesn’t need to be.

So...when is it time for flash?

THOUGHT FOUR: ACTION AND FIGHTSSSS!!!!!

LINE OF ACTION. SO IMPORTANT.  You want your action to happen fast? Lots of cuts, lots of motion, lots of EMOTION!??!  Guide the eye!!!!! GUIDE the EYE.

Here’s a breakdown of a short fight sequence from Voltron. This features only the silhouette of the two characters, and how much of the ground we see. Forget the story and characters for the moment--focus only on these two enemies andthink of the following questions: How much of the screen does each character they fill? WHAT side of the screen are they on?  How does their size or position change from shot to shot? How does their size or position change INSDIE each shot? If the camera were held by a real person, how high or low would it be?  

FIGHT SCENE!!!!  

Now watch the screen and ask the same questions but add in this: How long does each shot take? When does the camera move, and when does it stay still? And what emotion does that convey?

FINAL THOUGHT: How to apply...?

I’ve asked a lot of questions throughout this post.  Now it’s your job to ask yourself those questions every time you storyboard a scene.

[memeofthecentury]

At the End of Rowling Street (sample)

Life on Rowling street wasn’t the best if I was being honest with myself...with half its inhabitants unemployed and some even homeless, it only perks seemed to be how disconnected from society it was.

I lived in a brown two-bedroom house with my sister and her husband. I don’t know why they lived here or why I lived with them, it’s just how it happened after my mom gave it all up.

This other kid from the neighborhood, Franco, spent a lot of time at our place and I guess me and him became friends somehow.

Franco was tall and always pale no matter how much time we spent outside in the sun. He had one brown eye and the other was powder blue. His blue eye was always void of feeling and filled with a laser-like gaze, and his brown eye always indicated his emotions.

I always looked at his brown eye when he was speaking to me. I felt as if there was an invisible path to his soul through that eye.

His pupils were different too; his right one always looked half the size of the other. It made him look like a deranged psychopath and sometimes it even scared me. But I knew Franco well enough to know that he wouldn’t hurt me.

In fact, he was quite harmless.

One night he picked me up in his blue Pontiac and drove me to a house I’d never been before. There were a lot of people there, and a lot of noise. I'd been to several parties before but Franco didn’t often take me with him.

He disappeared into the action and I made my own fun by drawing sketches in the book I brought with me. Whenever someone would peek over my shoulder at my art, they’d look at me questioningly, even a little concerned. I was different, sure; drawing glass eyes, cracked flower pots with bones buried in the dirt, skeleton keys, but it didn’t bother me.

By the time I saw Franco again, he looked absolutely numb and miserable. His nose was bleeding as it seemed to on the most random occasion. His eyes were rimmed with red and I knew without question that he had been drinking.

He didn’t speak to me. His hand smoothed over his mess of earthy dark hair, and he met my eyes with a look of regret and some foreign kind of sorrow. He was ready to leave. In the bright red blinking light, his blue eye looked white.

The ride home seemed to last forever. I asked Franco what he’d taken at the party and he responded saying he was clean.

I told him he’d been drinking, and he nodded as a conformation.

“I’m clean.” He said again.

When we got to my sister’s house, Franco asked to talk up in my room for a while. My sister allowed it on the condition that the door was left wide open.

That was no problem, I had no feelings of that nature towards Franco, not to mention he was dedicatedly sworn off of relationships.

He opened my bedroom window and climbed out onto the fire escape. I followed after him.

He told me that what he was about to say would change the way I perceived him. He told me I’d think he was crazy.

His mouth had just opened and he was about to speak.

Time seemed to stop at that moment.

The sky’s hue of supple dark blue bled into crimson, a loud and thunderous crack filled my ears for a second, and then I heard my sister scream.

Franco looked as if his fate had just been sealed by the devil as we leaped to our feet and ran downstairs to find my sister’s husband laying in a heap on the floor, blood running from his eyes, nose, mouth and even his ears.

I tried to rationalize what I was seeing but nothing reasonable came. Soon my sister began convulsing and then she fell to the floor, cracking her head on the corner of the coffee table. Her lips were limp and blood seemed to spew from them, staining the already dirty carpet.

Franco looked like he could weep at any second. I wanted to give him comfort of any kind but I didn’t understand what was happening.

He suddenly took my wrist and pulled me back up to my bedroom. Through the open window, I could see that the sky was now black and star-covered, more so then I’d ever seen it. The horrific shade of red had disappeared without a trace.

I asked what had just happened. My voice trembled, in fact, my entire body trembled. Outside my window I could hear dozens of voices crying out, wondering if this was the end of the world. I silently cried out along with them.

“V, this is the end.” Franco held my hand and his palm was sweaty against mine. Our fingers were interlocked and he seemed to be looking through everything and seeing something I couldn’t. He looked so distant and so afraid that I thought my soul would burst into flames on his behalf.

I argued with him. This was not the end. He didn’t hear me. His hand grasped mine even more tightly. We sat down on my bed and stayed there. He didn’t look at me, he kept his focus outside the window. He wasn’t even looking at the sky or the buildings out there; he seemed to be looking through all of it. A fall of tears had begun on both of his pristine cheeks and several landed on my hand and made me quiver. When that happened, he pulled me close to him and rested his chin on my forehead. His arm was around my shoulders and he seemed to engulf me entirely.

My eyes opened as a bright blazing sun rose over the roof of the building across the alley from my bedroom. Franco's arms were still around me, and my head was resting against his chest. His slow breath told me he was asleep. His grass-stained denim jacket smelled like cigarettes and had a steely whisp of cologne mixed in. I rubbed my eyes, sitting up.

Franco stirred before his eyes opened. He asked me what time he'd fallen asleep, and I didn't know. His voice broke with lingering exhaustion, and the dreadful heaviness of yesterday still showed on his face. The alarm clock on my bedside table blinked 12:00 am. The power must have gone out some time while we were both asleep.

Franco stood up and stretched his arms high over his head. He was muttering to himself and I could hear something about the blood-red sky the night before. My eyebrows knit together. I still wanted to ask him about this all, but my mind was too haunted by a mess of questions and answers that made no sense.

The only thing I could think to do now was to leave the house and look for help. Find someone who might have answers to fill the black hole of seemingly irrevocable questions.

I grazed Franco's arm with my fingertips, getting his attention. I suggested we search for some help and he nodded absently. I wanted to search his face for the answer to the question that floated over my entire conscience, but I couldn't stand to see the tear stains on his cheeks and the exhaustion painted over his features. He was such a beautiful example of pain at that moment, and my stomach knotted.

The entire world seemed to be completely silent. The street was empty. No birds were singing. The only noise seemed to be the scuffle of Franco and I's footsteps on the broken sidewalk. We approached the neighbor's house. After rapping at the door, which seemed to echo through the invisible air of silence over the entirety of Rowling street, no answer came. The sound of my own fist against the wood of the door caused my hair to stand on end.

I tried the door. The knob twisted easily, and the door swung towards me before I even pulled it open. A heavy, limp form landed dully on the doorframe. It was a head, attached to a neck, which was connected to a lifeless body. Blood crusted over the features of the face, and lay in a puddle soaking the carpet.

He’d clearly met the same fate as my own sister, and the sudden memory of seeing her go stiff before falling dead in her own blood made my eyes burn. Franco took my hand firmly and lead me around the corpse and into the house.

There were two more inside, one on the sofa and one laying on the kitchen floor. No survivors. Only the ivory smell of blood and dust floating in the golden air.

All the houses surrounding mine had nothing but corpses. I felt sick the entire time, seeing their flesh drained of life and their faces contorted strangely.

Eventually I couldn’t go on. I told Franco I had to go home and he could look without me. He refused to leave me alone, so we both returned to my house. The environment was not at all soothing to my nausea. My sister and her husband still lay next to each other on the floor.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran into the bathroom and retched into the toilet. Soon my abdomen cramped up from the gagging reflexes I was trying to overcome.

Franco told me to go rest in my bedroom and he would take care of the bodies on the living room floor. I began to cry before I even reached the stairs. I ran to my deceased older sister. I removed her wristwatch and kissed her palm. The lifeless flesh felt like wax against my lips and caused bile to rise in my throat.

Taking the wristwatch with me, I hurried up the stairs before I became overwhelmed with the weight I felt in my chest. My tears subsided before long and I put the wristwatch on my dresser where I could always see it. I couldn’t bear to wear it after removing it from her helplessly dead body.

Collapsing onto my bed, I wiped the proof of my grief from my face and breathed heavily. With enough convincing, I buried the pain beneath a thousand layers of my conscience.

I closed my eyes, my mind a blur of nothing. The dusk floated golden over my eyelids, and I envisioned the tiny particles of dust hanging in the rays of light. The weight in my chest pressed all around where I felt my heart ought to have been.

I don’t know how much time had passed, but eventually I felt Franco’s weight sink into the bed next to me. Familiarity washed over me as I inhaled his smoky scent and simply felt his closeness.

He sighed heavily, with more weight then I could have imagined feeling even at that moment.

[softly-mossy]

rrrrRRAAAAAA i did it dudes. wrote about @trackinghallownest‘s vessel spindle getting a happy ending after some art they made about spindle getting all forgotten n whatnot. that would not Do for my big dumb soft baby heart.

[AO3]

The City of Tears may be a forlorn, desolate place inhabited by the husks and ghost of those that once lived there, but it was a peaceful place. The pattering rain on the window next to them was soothing, droplets spattering against the pane and trailing downwards in rivulets. 

Nudge, nudge.

Maybe if Hawk ignored the insistent pestering, Hum would take the hint. They close their eyes and act as if asleep.

Nudge! Nudge, nudge!

Keep pretending.

Pat, pat!

Just...keep the act up. Hum will stop soon. It feels mean to do, but Hawk is genuinely exhausted.

Hum stops, thankfully. Hawk actually relaxes.

SHOVE!

Hawk almost falls off the bench they’re resting on. Narrowed eyes glare down at Hum on the bench adjacent to them. What greets them is a sight familiar, somewhat annoying, but soul-wrenching nonetheless. 

Hum’s eyes are pleading for something. When they notice Hawk’s aware of their state, they stand fully on the bench and lay their little hands on Hawk’s shoulder.

Hawk tilts their head to show that they’re paying attention fully. Hum grabs one of Hawk’s hands and hops down off the bench,  tugging with all the might contained in their little form. As Hawk slowly rises, Hum eagerly points to a map pinned on a post nearby. Begrudgingly, Hawk allows their sibling to drag them over.

Hum’s hand indicates a spot on the map. Leaning in and peering closer, Hawk notices where they’re pointing to: the Abyss.

The Abyss? What’s there? Does Hum want to just go say hello to all our desolate siblings there...again?

The notion of Hum being so overwhelmingly worried about the well-being of the shade-siblings was touching, honestly. It fit Hum’s character perfectly. Hawk may not want to plod all the way back down to the Abyss to do this menial thing, but if Hum wanted to, that was all the importance Hawk needed. 

Hawk points to where they are currently, nestled in the City of Tears after a short, curt meetup with Lemm to get rid of some relics Hum had gathered. Hum follows suit, gently patting a hand on the map next to theirs. Hawk analyzes a track down to where Hum desired to go, weaving and turning as their hand mapped a path that their mind memorized.

Nothing too awful. They were already in the City near the King’s Station. A quick inquiry to the Stag Beetle could get them to the Hidden Station by the Palace Grounds, right next to their destination.

Hawk rolls their eyes. The things they did because Hum gave some baby eyes. Pathetic.

Hum wasn’t pathetic. Hum was caring and kind and gentle and bubbly. Hallownest could use more individuals like that.  Unfortunately, Hum’s size and stature limited things they could achieve solo, so a little “assistance” is needed. That’s why Hawk is so tolerant of the misadventures they are led on, or so they tell themselves. 

Hawk nods to show they’re ready to leave. Hum bounces on their toes in response. As Hawk turns and begins the stroll to the Stag Station, Hum’s hurried plip-pap-pip-plap footsteps can be heard trying to keep up. Hawk pauses, extending an arm out to the side and waiting. Hum catches up, latches onto the offered arm, and holds tight.

The King’s Station approaches soon enough. For once, Hum isn’t constantly derailing their task by meandering off to look at this, to touch that thing, to stomp in that puddle, to climb up onto some crate or box. No, they’ve got a single-minded intensity that Hawk finds themselves surprised by.

Skimming by the complementary bench that always accompanies a Stag, the duo approach a directions post and a bell. The post shows a primitive, basic map of Hallownest, other Stag Stations marked by little tokens. Hawk stoops over to pick Hum up. Hum goes willingly, already extending an arm towards the bell just waiting to be rung. Firmly, Hum smacks the bell with a clang-clang-clang and preens as Hawk sets them down gently. Shortly, the Last Stag’s thundering footfalls are audible, and grow steadily louder and louder. 

The Stag skids to a halt in his typical dramatic fashion, kicking up plumes of dust as he grunts. Hum is already scampering up to him, offering a hug that he accepts gratefully. Hawk watches passively and the embrace is exchanged. 

“Where to, my small friends?” his gruff voice asks.

Hawk points to a marker on the map post.

“The Hidden Station?” Hawk nods once; Hum nods furiously. “So be it! I shall get you there swiftly, as always.”

He kneels down and waits for the two of them to clamber onto his back. Hawk lifts Hum up into one of the seats attached to the Stag’s shell, climbing up after them after ensuring they were situated. Hawk sits right next to them, a spot where they could easily reach over to steady Hum if the ride got too bumpy.

And bumpy it was.

To be fair, the Stag had never been hailed for his smooth ride to a destination. No, he was prided on being quick and sure-footed, which he indeed was. Still, Hawk found their hand latching onto the rails of the seat one one side, and the other holding Hum firmly.

Hum, as usual, is having a blast, oblivious to the ragged look Hawk gains. Their scarf whips in the wind, tickling Hawk’s face occasionally. Hawk’s on adornment, the length of black cord wrapped around their neck comfortably in a mock-impression of Hum’s scarf, thankfully dances in the breeze behind their head.

Eventually the Last Stag barrels into the Hidden Station, and again, skids to a halt. He stands stock-still as they dismount into the Station.

“Take care, little friend!” The Last Stag grunts to Hum. With a nod towards Hawk, he continues. “Make sure to keep that companion in line. When you need me next, I shall be there.”

Hawk rolls their eyes. Hum beams, waving a final farewell to their Stag friend. Hawk turns and begins to walk further into the Ancient Basin, and Hum skitters up beside them. These parts of the Basin have no real threats within them, as the only other creatures near them were the meek Shadow Creepers, which kept to their own business. 

But there was the Palace Grounds.

Hawk knew of what went on within this area. The Pale King. The Siblings. The failed vessels, all pitched over the edge into the Abyss like unwanted discards. It infuriated them. Hawk was one of those vessels. Discarded for being too stubborn. Too expressive. Too protective. That’s where they met Hum a while later. It hurt to think about. Their own discardment was upsetting, sure; but the fact that one like Hum was thrown aside in the same manner was infuriating.

Shuffling past the lifeless Kingsmould, Hum slows and looks curiously at it. Hawk throws a stern, no-nonsense look their way, reaching a hand out. Hum latches on as Hawk leads the way past the Kingsmould, away from the awful associations and experiences in that horrendous place. They swiftly pass by the ancient adornments without a second thought. Ironic. So quick was He to forget about us and discard countless vessels, when His own kingdom was doomed to fall regardless. Hawk shakes their head, jostling the thoughts away.

A small jump down here, carefully skidding down a wall a short ways with Hum clinging to their back tightly, and there they were. 

The King’s Brand.

The relic towers over even Hawk’s height. Hum pads up closer to it, watching as it glows brighter and brighter with proximity. Hawk’s seen it before, many times. It’s no surprise that Hum is still fascinated. Hawk allows them a few more moments of wonder before patting their shoulder and pointing his head left. Hum eagerly patters after him.

The Abyss... Hawk didn’t hate this place, didn’t hate the other residents of this area. It was not the Siblings’ fault they were seen as “imperfect”. If anything, Hawk felt...sad. Genuine sadness. It hurt to return here, it hurt to think about what led to all these poor souls being thrown here. Hum’s chipper mind made it less of a dreary experience than ambling this chasm alone, lost, terrified, and confused.

Stop that. Hawk shakes their head again.

Hum goes to lead the way further into the Abyss. This snaps Hawk out of their dwelling instantly. The Abyss is full of jumps that required precise timing and direction. “Platforming,” someone had called it once. While Hum is full of compassion and kindness and excitement...coordination is something they lack.

Hum had a predetermined destination in mind. Hawk would plunk down or jump over to a platform, turn around, and reliably catch Hum after them. Some had the jagged, teeth-like spikes that some landscapes in this place garnished, but they were easily avoidable. 

Instead of the steady descent to the bottom of the Abyss, Hum veers straight around halfway down. The Lifeblood Room? What was there that they hadn’t seen before?

The Lifebloods are a shocking splash of color in the scenery. Vines and buds and long-passed Lifeblood Blooms covered a door. Did Hum want inside?

Hum skitters up to a thick tangle of vines and...peers into them. Hawk wants to roll their eyes. But Hum looked like they were expecting something. Gently, Hum begins untangling the outermost vines and brambles, unraveling lengths that dwarf their own size. Deeper vines are more of a challenge for them, so they turn to Hawk’s gawking form for help.

Pat, pat! That vine? Tug! Ah, move that vine.

Hawk pulls out their double-ended, spear-like nail and sets to work. They draw it back, readying a mighty strike to slice through multiple vines in one go, but Hum intervenes frantically. 

Shakeshakeshake!! Eyes wide, arms flailing in a halting motion, their mask furiously shakes in a dissuading gesture. Hawk freezes. Hum shows them what they meant, softly making a chop! motion on the vines before looking back. Hawk nods.

The nail is as sharp as ever, but the vines are thick. They’ve been growing for ages, twining and furling and wrapping around...whatever was under them. After a span of time spent carefully, precisely peeling away the vines, Hawk sees something. Something white and scuffed.

Oh no.

Hum tries to peer over Hawk’s shoulder to see the discovery, but Hawk is working with one goal in mind: the Sibling. That was a Sibling’s mask. 

Once the majority of the vines are unraveled, Hum can see too. They immediately try to rush in to check on their fellow vessel, but Hawk holds them at bay by blocking their approach with the nail. For as much as Hawk wanted to rescue this Sibling with good intentions, the vessel wouldn’t know that at first. They might perceive it as an attack, an intrusion.

If they can still perceive.

The sight they meet wrenches Hawk’s soul.

An unseeing mask stares blankly ahead. Their body slouches against the wall behind them limply. The Sibling had been here so long that the Lifeblood Vines had actually begun to intertwine with the vessel itself, little blue roots worming into cracks in the mask and allowing blobs of blue Lifeblood to accumulate.

Hum frets immediately. They barge past Hawk’s barrier, running up to stand before the Sibling. They brush smaller twigs and leaves off the vessel delicately, eyes wide with worry.

For a moment, they wait. Is the vessel merely dormant? Will it wake like so many others have after abandonment?

Or was it...gone?

Hawk refused to believe the latter. For crying out loud, they’re entrapped in Lifeblood plants. What amount of irony and cruelty would lead to a creature dying while encased in a plant that’s literally called Lifeblood?!

So the two of them wait. Hawk stands guard, watching the Shades of other Siblings float aimlessly about forlornly. Hum plunks down to sit at the newly-found vessel’s feet, arranging little twigs and flowers into shapes.

Then the vessel twitches.

Hum nearly startles out of their lavender-colored cloak. Hawk does not ready his nail, but raises a hand, prepared to swiftly draw it if needed. They’d never harm this vessel, no. Just enough to let them know Hawk was not allowing Hum to come to harm.

The vessel scuffs a foot through the dirt, drawing their legs up to their body. Hum bounces on their toes in joy.

The vessel looks up, blearily.

What a sight to wake up to. A bouncing, excited little vessel and their self-assigned protector towering over them.

Naturally, Hum waves. Hawk watches closely.

The vessel stares blankly at the two of them. Then, feebly, raises a trembling hand to meekly greet Hum back.

Hum is ecstatic. They bounce right over to the spindly-limbed Sibling, plapping their hands on either side of their fractured mask in a mock-expression of squishing someone’s cheeks happily. For the vessel’s part, they tolerate it much more tamely than Hawk would, squinting their eyes happily at the attention. 

Hum whips around to point at Hawk and bounces a few times. The vessel turns to look. Hawk stares. Hum looks expectantly at Hawk. Hawk rolls their eyes and waves. However, not a half-hearted wave they’d fling at any other creature or bug Hum was forcing them to greet. No, this was a full-hearted wave for a fellow Sibling.

If possible, the vessel beams even brighter. Hum stands back as Hawk helps them to their feet, though they lean heavily on Hawk’s shoulder. A Hot Spring will likely help this poor, fellow soul. That, and a trip to the Mask Maker for a few repairs. Maybe getting checked over by someone that knows what they’re doing, and not just two wanderers with hearts too big for their bodies.

Hawk flicks a hand to Hum to get their attention. When Hum looks, they mimic the lines of steam a Hot Spring produces with a hand, conveying their idea to Hum. Hum brightens and nods.

Fear not, Sibling. The others forgot about both you and us, but we have not forgotten you.

[tessatechaitea]

Scarab #6

I don't know what's happening on this cover but I definitely have a new sexual fetish.

This comic book stars a raccoon. Rating: A+.

Most of the weird dialogue in this comic book probably comes from John Smith's high school notepads full of terrible poetry. I mean, this part about winter isn't too bad! I kind of like it. It's almost as if William Carlos Williams and H.P. Lovecraft were caught in a Star Trek transporter malfunction where their minds were melded but they had to overcome the horror of their new two-dicked physical existence to continue writing poetry. I knew John Smith was English from his previous work on 2000 A.D. and other British comic book periodicals but then he uses the phrase "Chinese whispers" in this issue and I think, "If I hadn't already known he was English from his previous work on 2000 A.D. and other British comic book periodicals, I'd now know he was English by his use of the phrase 'Chinese whispers.'" Here are some of the ideas John Smith throws into a two-page account of Scarab's recent adventures that he couldn't bother writing into full scripts but wanted everybody to know he thought up anyway: a television at the Waldorf haunted by the 20th Century, a pervert breaking the spirits of kids with his Zoo of Shame, The Phantom Barber stealing scalps from runway models, the world's sexiest man raped by Tarot cards, and the Electric Fetus Machine which manifests as a large organ whose music foments rebellion in fetuses. Is this how the British writers took over DC's adult comic books? By occluding our minds with so much random and weird pseudo-philosophical garbage that we couldn't think straight? Sure, I guess an Electric Fetus Machine sounds like a way better story than Batman beating The Riddler near to death. But is there really any substance there? I suppose there could be if the idea were fleshed out and some kind of theme built around the idea of fetuses rebelling. Maybe all of these ideas John Smith throws out are just a game of Chinese whispers where he takes, say, a story by John Barth from Lost in the Funhouse about the thoughts of a sperm considering how the race toward life is pointless and, maybe, they should all just give up, and he turns it into the Electric Fetus Machine so that when I read it, I don't instantly think, "Isn't this a John Barth story?" Instead, I think, "That's a better sounding story than the one where the guy is raped by the Three of Wands!"

Meanwhile, Scarab spends his downtime watching Eleanor turn into a Dr. Seuss tree. Or a mushroom cloud (because remember the theme established by the beginning quote and title?!).

Try to ignore Scarab's ass in the previous scan. It's phenomenal. If you're training to be a comic book artist, you need to spend a lot of time getting the ass right. And once you do, you'll never get an ass in pants right again because all you have ever learned to draw is a naked ass which readers will know is actually under skin tight Lycra unless the colorist completely shits the bed. The guy in the jar on the cover is a Russian experiment in psychotropic warfare called a Gloryboy. There are three of them and they're some kind of pacifist dream come true. They constantly mutter Vertigo phrases in a tonal frequency that makes normal people vomit and shit themselves. It's the Brown Note theory of winning battles but taken to the Vertigo extreme. Instead of a whomping bass sound system, the noise comes form a naked albino in a jar composed of dream matter. Maybe they're not composed of dream matter. And maybe they're not about pacifism at all. It seems they've been altered and experimented in such a way that they can give voice to "the Scream over Hiroshima!" That sounds pretty bad. It's probably some form of psychic bombardment, comparable to a nuclear blast, which drives everybody in the vicinity completely insane. Or maybe it really will just be a thing that pacifies everybody because have you ever tried to do anything while shitting yourself? I mean other than read the ingredients in your shampoo. And even then, I bet you take your eyes off the bottle for a moment to really be in the moment. As an aside, do women find shitting as enjoyable as men or is it just the fecal matter pressing up against our prostate as it passes that makes a big shit feel so good? The Russians test the Scream Over Hiroshima on London. What it does is project into the minds of everybody who hears it the entire reality of what happened in Hiroshima. It's the truth of war. It's pure horror and death and consequence. It probably also makes everybody shit themselves. But when it's done, they'll all understand, on a physically primal level what war is. And the assumption is that everybody will finally be against it, I guess? I've been on Twitter for many years and the one thing I know is that even physically experiencing the horrors of the bombing of Hiroshima isn't going to change the minds of most idiots. I mean, if you didn't become a vegan pacifist hug machine after hearing Sting's song, "Russians," why would you become one after living the horror of fifty thousand lives snuffed out in an instant?! Some people, you just can't reach. London turns into a burning chaotic mess as everybody flips the fuck out from suddenly experiencing the most painful thing they've ever experienced. Scarab arrives after it's all over and everybody is afraid of him. Surprise! There's nothing he can do. He just observes the mess and meets a psychic who tells him that Eleanor is coming back. And isn't that the most important part of this eight issue story? That Louis the Scarab's love returns to him while the rest of the world falls into death and chaos? Scarab #6 Rating: C. Smith seeded this issue with more story ideas than story. The main story is an idea that really goes nowhere as well. It's a thought experiment. It's a minor philosophical musing. And Scarab doesn't do anything but distract himself from his wife's condition. But it also wasn't uninteresting. So I think that means it's a C? What am I, a high school teacher? I don't know how to grade shit!

[jojo-lity]

I'd like a scenario where a female scientist from the speedwagon foundation discovers that santana is alive (and perhaps has already awoken before she found him) at some time in the far distant future and she finds that the last living pillar man is the most interesting person she's ever met, and he finds that he feels similarly towards her.

here we are, sorry for the wait!

ao3 link

Heavy, exhausted eyes stared up at the dark ceiling. The flight to her new home had been rough, but she couldn’t bring herself to risk oversleeping. After a successful internship, she had been offered a position in one of the Speedwagon Foundation’s most top-secret facilities, and the last thing she wanted to do was compromise a good first impression by showing up late.

Showing up in a state of sleep deprivation might not have been much better. Sighing, she slipped out of bed, trudging to the disorganised kitchen. If she wasn’t going back to sleep, maybe some early breakfast would make her feel a little more prepared for the day ahead.

It proved a good decision, perhaps more for the accompanying cup of coffee than the food itself. While she still couldn’t say she was at her brightest, it was enough to get her out the door on time.

On the surface, the facility looked exactly the same as the place she had worked before. The building’s structure was identical, and it was full of busy people in the familiar uniform, carrying various artifacts of interest to the organisation. The only notable difference was the battalion of guards surrounding every entrance, giving her and her ID a stern stare before parting to let her in.

She had been assigned to the study of a particular project. She hadn’t been told very much about it, only that it had been going on for a long time, and even in the building where everything was secret, any information about it was to be kept strictly under wraps. Apparently, there would be catastrophic consequences if anything got out. It made her nervous, but there was a certain kind of pride to be taken from it, if she was being trusted with such a sensitive matter. Nothing could possibly make her let her employers down.

“There you are.” Her direct supervisor didn’t seem like one for greetings, but at least she wasn’t unfriendly. “Right now, you just have to watch. Let us know if anything changes.” Was there a trace of pity on her face? “Do a good job, and you’ll be able to do something else soon.” From there, there was little left to do but show her to her station- a single chair and small desk, overlooking a large glass case.

The glass was thick enough to appear bulletproof, and harsh light was shining on it from every direction. It seemed strange, when all she could see in there was a rock. It was a bit larger than a human, and beautifully carved- Hang on. Looking closer, it appeared that there was a human face etched into the stone. She was no art student, but was it really possible for human hands to bring out such breathtaking detail? If not for the rocky texture, she almost could have sworn that the full, delicate lips were about to take a breath.

“Santana.” She jumped a little. Had she really been so absorbed that she had forgotten her supervisor was standing behind her? “That’s what we call him. Not sure who thought of it, but…” She shifted a little, almost uncomfortably. “Calling him “it” didn’t really sit right.” She might have been about to say more, but a machine on the other side of the room beeped, and she left the new employee to her work.

—

On the first few days, the sheer novelty of her new workplace, and her growing curiosity about exactly who or what “Santana” was, had been more than enough to get her through the hours of watching absolutely nothing happen. But as the week reached its end, she had to admit…

It was getting extremely boring.

At least her colleagues seemed to trust her, since they were leaving her alone in the room more and more often, especially during the later hours. Having no friends or family in the area, she had no reason to keep a regular schedule, so she had gone ahead and taken on most of the night shifts. In the middle of the night, the lab was a tranquil place, enough that her focus had slipped once or twice.

As luck would have it, it was in one of those moments that her lifeless, unmoving responsibility began to stir.

Body finally strong enough to withstand the constant ultraviolet assault for a short time, the protective hardness of Santana’s skin started to recede, allowing him to move and take in his surroundings. He wasn’t in the well, and Joseph was nowhere to be seen. He only saw one human, who was turning towards him with an expression of horror.

“I have to call someone!” Shocked enough to exclaim out loud, she grabbed her phone, dialling the number she had been given. It went to voicemail, prompting her to speak. “Hey, I…”

Her phone fell from her hand, the call spontaneously ending as it hit the floor. But she never dropped her phone. In the few seconds between that moment and the last time she had looked his way, Santana had escaped from the impenetrable glass, and was towering over her with a vaguely unimpressed look. “Don’t call anyone.”

Apparently satisfied with her timid nod, he turned away from her, eyes scanning every machine in the room. “Humanity has advanced yet further,” he muttered, lifting a computer monitor from its place on the table. In a few deft movements, it was in pieces in his hands, each individual component carefully turned over and examined.

He clearly wasn’t human, if he could move so quickly and effortlessly. But what was he? Why had he been in what was essentially a cage? Why was it so imperative that he didn’t escape? All he was doing was inspecting the rest of the computers, tapping at their keys and intently watching the results on the screens.

“You’ve created minds to think for you.” He turned back around to look at her. Or rather, only his upper half turned. It was a bit unsettling, even with the chiselled perfection of his face in full view. “A creative method to surpass your limits.”

“Thank you… I mean, I didn’t make these! It wasn’t even my idea.” The nocturnal schedule must have been taking its toll, since her stomach flipped at the idea of potentially being complimented by him. Maybe she needed more regular meals.

“Then whose was it?” With one last hit of a button, every ultraviolet light in the room shut off, leaving only a dim fluorescent glow. “Perhaps they’re worth meeting.”

“Well, they’re probably dead now… or most of them, anyway.”

“Hm. Really.” He blinked, drawing her attention to the gear-like symbol below his eye. “Human lives are… perhaps too short. Though I’m sure that’s the next problem you intend to solve.”

“It’s… one of them?” She wasn’t sure just how active the rest of the building was at this time of night, but someone was bound to notice soon that most of the room’s functions had shut off. She didn’t know why Santana had been held captive. All she knew was that as long as he walked and talked and reasoned like any living person, she couldn’t see him back in that position.

“We need to go.” It wasn’t easy to maintain any kind of authority, especially when he stared down at her as if she was interrupting something. When her voice wavered a little, she repeated her statement with more force behind it. “Or else we’re both in for it. Who knows what they might do?”

Thankfully, he seemed to accept it. “I’m taking these with me.” That was all he said before lifting a table that carried most of the equipment, holding it steady in his hands and walking right out. All she could do was struggle to keep up, watching as he effortlessly swept aside any obstacle between himself and the outside world.

—

“I can’t believe we did that.”

“There’s no reason not to believe what I did. It wasn’t even the first time.” After breezing out the door, Santana had continued out into the desert. Feeling somewhat responsible for what she had allowed to escape into the world, and still full of curiosity about his existence, she had seen no reason not to follow. She probably wouldn’t be able to show her face at the Speedwagon Foundation again.

After dismantling all his takings, he was in the process of reassembling them into a single machine. She knew a thing or two about computers, but he worked so quickly that it made her head spin. And he claimed to have never heard of computers? 

“Well, I can’t believe what I did. I worked so hard for that job, and now here I am…” She swiped at the ground, collecting a handful of sand and letting it slip between her fingers. “Maybe I’ll get arrested.”

“Arrested?”

“Yeah, uh… guys with guns will come get me, and put me in a room, and I’ll probably have to stay there for a bunch of years. And it’ll suck… I mean, it’ll be the worst thing ever.” The more she talked about it, the more of a certainty it seemed.

“But you already live such short lives.” She was surprised to find that his attention was fully on her, his voice signalling a faint interest that it had been completely devoid of before. “Why would you be deprived of any of it?”

“I don’t know, it’s… just how we do things?” Now that she thought about it, it did seem odd. “Seriously, though, it wasn’t my idea. And whoever came up with it? Long gone.”

He shook his head in a short, tight motion. “And they told me nothing would change in two thousand years.”

“Two… thousand? Who’s “they”?” Was there any use in asking questions? Everything either of them said only seemed to raise more questions, more than they could answer even if they wanted to. “Never mind.” She fell silent, trying to listen for police sirens.

Some time passed, anywhere from a few minutes to an hour, until the structure Santana had built made a booting-up sound. It was followed by the familiar glow of several monitors, each displaying something different. He seemed to be paying special attention to the one rigged up to what resembled a small radio tower.

“Nothing mechanical is approaching us,” he informed her. “And I would sense the presence of anything biological.”

She nodded, seeing no reason to argue. Even if it was just an extremely convincing fake, she wanted to believe that he knew what he was doing. There was something fascinating about his absolute command over what he knew, and even what he didn’t. It made her wonder… “Why are you helping me?”

“You helped me.” Of course his answer was simple, and made perfect sense. “It seems that it was important for you to keep me in there. And yet you never asked that of me. It’s… interesting.”

There was no reason for him to lie. She was interesting to him, and not just as a curiosity, a representative of an unknown species. It made her feel a little less authentic, but rather than give up, she found within herself the determination to get to know him as a person. He had revealed enough to prove himself more than interesting.

“So, now that you’re out… where were you planning on heading?”

He blinked again. “Nowhere, just yet.” He gestured to his computer, now displaying words and images from all over the Internet. “I have a lot to learn.”

Waiting for the objection that never came, she moved herself closer, eventually settling herself next to him. “I think I do too.”

[221bdisneystreet]

klancemonth2018 film week prompt #2: whisper of the heart au

here’s my second prompt for @klancemonth2018: a whisper of the heart au! lance gets an unexpected visit from keith, who’s returned to their hometown and has some things to say... :3c

The first thing that Lance saw when he woke up were plastic stars, their dull neon-green glow fading away, glued to the ceiling.

The muted, foggy hues of an indigo dawn poured into the bedroom, the light of an impending morning peeking through the wide cracks of the window blinds. With a yawn, Lance rubbed his groggy eyes and slowly lifted himself out of his bed. The atmosphere was exceptionally silent, the only noises being the sluggish, spring-like creaks of the mattress. Lance glanced down at himself, realizing he was still in his T-shirt and jeans. What was he even doing last night that made him forget to change into his more comfortable pajamas? He glimpsed at the clock on his phone. 6:24 AM.

An internal groan echoed in Lance’s tired mind, yet despite his desire to fall back onto his soft mattress and return to deep slumber, his body only forced him to trudge out of his bed and towards the window. Spending weeks of sleepless nights writing a full-length novel and ultimately screwing up his internal clock was starting to catch up to him.

Lance pulled the blinds up and pulled the window open. Outside, the chilly and crisp November breeze tickled his cheeks, and clouds rolled along the vast sky. In the distance, a few horns and car engines punctured the overall stillness of the environment. Lance leaned out and inhaled the autumn air, the pleasant scents of fresh dewdrops and fallen leaves filling his chest. When he exhaled, a puff of cold air left his lips, and he could feel a slight shudder travel down his spine. He glanced down at the streets. The curbs were lined with parked cars and the street lamps still flickered faintly with their golden light, but other than that, the roads and sidewalks were lifeless and quiet, completely devoid of movement.

That is, except a boy riding a red motorcycle, its engine sputtering noisily, up to Lance’s driveway. Lance squinted and craned his neck a little further out to get a clearer look at the unexpected visitor. The boy was dressed in a red leather jacket and black jeans, complete with a crimson scarf, cherry-red sneakers, and black gloves. He removed his helmet and waved at Lance with an excited expression on his face, the morning wind ruffling that jet-black mullet of his––

Lance gasped, his eyes so wide with shock that he felt they were about to bulge out of his sockets. He nearly thought he was going to fall out of the window that very second.

“Keith?!”

His voice echoed so loudly that he swore he must have woken up the entire apartment complex. With a grin, Keith nodded excitedly at hearing Lance’s recognition and gestured him to come downstairs.

“Uhh, umm,” Lance stuttered, hurriedly looked around as he struggled to recover from his surprise and gather up his composure, “I-I’ll be down in a second!”

Without any hesitation, he slammed the window shut and ran out of the bedroom, nearly stumbling on his way to the front entrance. After hastily slipping his shoes on, he rushed outside, the front door closing with a loud thud. As he raced down the steps of the building, he could feel his heartbeat speeding up and his head spinning so fast that he wasn’t sure if he was walking on air or earth.

“Keith, what are you doing here?!” Lance asked, shivering in the frigid air and huffing out shallow breaths in between his words. “Am I still dreaming? I thought you were––”

“I’ll explain everything later,” Keith interrupted. “But I want to show you something first! Hop on!” He motioned towards the open backseat of his motorcycle. Lance gaped at him and wrapped his arms around himself. Was this all real? He still had to be sleeping and imagining things, right? Maybe waking up at the crack of dawn or stepping out into the cold was making him delusional or something.

“Oh wait!” Keith quickly took off his jacket. “You’re gonna freeze out here just wearing that. Here.” He draped the jacket around Lance’s shoulders, his fingers brushing against Lance’s neck for a fleeting second. At that moment, a tender warmth bloomed within Lance’s cheeks, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the jacket or because of that weird feeling that fluttered in his stomach whenever Keith even made the slightest contact with his skin. Lance clutched the jacket close to his body before he noticed Keith was wearing a T-shirt.

“Wait, what about you? You’re gonna be cold, though.”

“Ehh, don’t worry about it.” Keith waved off any concerns. “Come on, we have to hurry!” He held out an extra helmet towards Lance.

Despite Lance’s still-persistent worry over Keith and his lack of protection against the cold early morning, he didn’t want to pry and keep him waiting. Not when Keith was way too eager than usual. Without another word, Lance quickly slipped his arms into the jacket sleeves, grabbed the helmet and put it on, and took his seat behind Keith, who put his own helmet back on and started firing up the engine again.

Once Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist, they began to speed down the road.

Traffic was relatively calm and light, with only a few cars and trucks and a public bus or two populating the road. Almost all of the stores and local businesses that flanked the streets were still desolate and dark, not yet ready to wake up to a brand new day. A sparse number of pedestrians roamed the sidewalks.

Lance’s heart was pounding. He still wasn’t sure if he could believe it, and he could feel his grip on Keith tightening a little more, just to convince himself that this was all real. Keith actually was here in the flesh, sitting right there, and Lance really was holding onto him. But how was that even possible?

“Shiro said my technical abilities are unlike any other student he’s ever mentored, but he feels that I could still use some major improvement in my art,” Keith explained over the roar of the engine, as if Lance actually asked the question out loud. “He said there’s still something vital that I’m missing in my inspiration. He wanted me to discover it on my own before he can take me in as his pupil, so I decided to come back here and finish high school first. I think...I already realize what he means...”

When they stopped at the next red light, Keith briefly glanced over his shoulder, his gaze directed at Lance. The corners of his lips curved up into a gentle smile.

“And I wanted you to be there to realize it with me.”

When the light changed to green, Keith turned back to the road and continued driving up an incoming slope.

“Anyways, I managed to book a flight back home a day earlier than expected, and I wanted to surprise you once I returned. Honestly, I was really nervous you weren’t gonna be awake at this hour, and deep down, I didn’t even expect you to be. But when I came to your apartment, there you were looking outside your window!” Keith let out an amazed but relieved and joyful laugh. “Isn’t it crazy? It’s like...it was meant to be!”

Lance’s breath nearly caught in his throat. Meant to be…

Was it really?

Lance leaned closer, resting his chin on Keith’s shoulder and closing his eyes. His mouth drew up into a soft smile.

...maybe it really was.

“I still can’t believe this is actually happening…it’s like a dream come true or something.”

And if this dream truly was reality...well, he never wanted reality to end.

Lance wasn’t sure how much time had passed now. How long he was nestled against Keith’s back, how long he was bathing in Keith’s warmth and breathing in his scent, how long he was getting lost in Keith––

The drone of the engine cut off as the motorcycle came to a halt.

“Hey, Lance. We’re here.”

At the sound of Keith’s soothing voice, Lance slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes. They were at the foot of a grassy hill, the motorcycle parked at the beginning of a hiking trail. Keith took his helmet off, smoothing his hair down. As he removed his own helmet, Lance had to suppress a giggle at how messy Keith’s helmet hair was. It was...cute, for sure.

“Come on! It won’t take too long to get to the peak.” Keith began to run up the path, and Lance quickly followed right behind him. Sure enough, they reached the top of the hill in probably about ten minutes, Lance roughly estimated. Keith bent over, trying to catch his breath.

“Whew, we made it just in time,” Keith said before taking another deep inhale.

Gulping in as much air as he could, Lance ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed out at the horizon. The hill was overlooking the city, the roofs of buildings and skyscrapers visible yet distant. The clouds were becoming more scattered, and the horizon was beginning to glow a brilliant orange against the light blues and grays of a clearer sky.

“Why’d you bring me here, Keith?”

“Whenever I want to feel inspired, I always come up here with my sketchbook, right before sunrise. Once I catch the first glimpse of sunlight, I just...wanna start drawing. It’s kind of become my sort of special place.”

Just then, Keith took Lance’s hand, carefully weaving his fingers in between Lance’s own, and smiled gently.

“And I wanted to share my special place with you.”

The warmth in Lance’s cheeks had now returned with full force, skyrocketing like a firework exploding in dazzling colors and booming volume.

“Keith…”

“Hey, Lance. Look.”

Keith pointed straight ahead, and Lance looked out over the hill. Just then, the orange hues of the horizon became brighter than ever as the first rays of sunlight peeked out. As the sun slowly rose up from the horizon, it dabbled the sky and painted the city streets with an inviting, golden glow. The hilltop was not exempt from being washed over with the first signs of daylight.

“Oh my god…” Lance whispered, a smile lighting up his face and a sense of astoundment sparking in his chest. He never thought he would be this high up to see a sight this beautiful for the first time in his life...and right next to the person most special to him.

Being on top of the world, when it was awakening to a new day, with Keith by his side...it was perfect.

“Keith, I haven’t seen anything this beautiful in a long time,” Lance said, letting out a quick laugh. “I’ve been missing out…”

“My mom told me that you finished your first story while I was gone. She was really happy with what she read, and she’s really proud of you for not giving up for one second.” Keith gave Lance’s hand a quick but tight squeeze. “And...I’m really proud of you, too. I knew you could do it.”

Lance could feel his heart singing with delight. No, with immense euphoria. Just hearing Keith saying that he always believed in Lance, even when Lance didn’t believe in himself...it felt reassuring to know that Keith never ever wanted to give up on him.

“T-thanks, Keith…”

Lance took a deep breath, keeping his gaze at the sunlit landscape.

“I’m...I’m really happy that you and your mom have been a support system for me. I’ve spent so much of my life wandering around aimlessly, trying to figure out what direction to go in with my future. But I finally realized what exactly I want to do. I’ve set myself down a path where I can be satisfied and happy in the end.”

“...hey, Lance?”

Lance turned to Keith, who now looked oddly nervous.

“This might sound weird but…” A deep redness blossomed in Keith’s cheeks as he hesitated. “Do you see the two of us spending the rest of our lives together?”

The question nearly sucked out the air from Lance’s lungs, and his eyes grew wide with surprise. The heat in his cheeks burned even more than before.

“I-I could be a famous painter, and you can be a novelist,” Keith stammered. “And we can live together and work alongside each other and have our own place and, umm, all of that cool stuff. But yeah...d-do you see ourselves doing that? Please be honest.”

Lance sucked in a slow but quiet breath. Once he let it out, though, he smiled softly and nodded. He absolutely could see themselves doing all of that. It’s what he wanted for so long.

“I-I’m sorry, that was really awkward.” Keith rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Did that sound corny?”

“It was pretty corny and awkward,” Lance giggled. “But you’re more of a painter and not as much of a writer, so it’s cool.”

“That’s true,” Keith said with a relieved smile. He burst out into an excitable laugh. “Oh man, this is great!”

Then, Lance shrugged off Keith’s jacket, keeping one half draped over his own shoulder.

“Here, you must be getting cold.” Lance started to wrap the other half of the jacket around Keith’s body, enveloping him in a shared warmth.

Suddenly, Lance gasped as Keith abruptly pulled him into a hug and shouted those four words.

“Lance, I love you!”

[dailysarina]

The Sarina Project

Ok so I gotta put a little A/N at the start of this one beacuse I realized I have to make a litttttllllleee change to this story. Soz. Annyywaaayyyy... I’ve decided to change the POV from first person to third person, which I know is probably SUPER annoying for you but I promise this chapter would work better if it was not just from Karina’s POV. So I hope y’all are ready for some ~e p i c~ punk!Sarah thoughts ^-^

The Sarina Project

Chapter 18: I Hate My Freinds

“Are you sure your ready to do this?” Emily viciously inquired of DJ, who just happened to be sitting next to her. (A/N: Remember, Karina is NOT narrating this she is NOT HERE hehe ^-^)

“Are you kidding??? I’m literally James Bond,” DJ said, popping the p. “I’ve snuck into like 15 classrooms already this year.”

“OMG ME TOO!” Emily said back in response to DJ.

“Ya exactly we snuck into those classrooms together,” DJ unimpressedly said. They both laughed at Emily’s forgetfulness.

“Haha,” she laughed, giggling.

“Ok lets go,” DJ said, immediately jumping into a James Bond somersault and kicking the door to the classroom. Emily crept in behind him, her greenish, hazelish, slightly brown speckled balls of sight gazing over the cold, lifeless, OPPRESSIVE, torture seats... aka... DESKS. (A/N: hahahahhahaha I hate school sum1 halp plz 😭😂)

“There’s no one in here,” Emily said after about ten minutes observations.

“Wow it’s not like I can see the exact same classroom,” DJ sarcastically quipped back at her in such a tone that only DJ could recreate.

“Just get to the desk,” Emily said, deciding to suddenly use her gymnastics skills to backflip across the room and onto the teacher’s desk.

“Wow I, definitely good enough for the olympics if I can do that,” Emily said, obviously very very proud of her recent accomplishments. Ever since she was two days and fifteen hours and 32 minutes old, she had wanted to be an Olympic gymnast. Gymnastics was her LAIFE!! (A/N: Chipotle is laiiifffeee heh XD). DJ rolled his brown orbs he used for seeing almost every day back into his head at Emily’s showyoffiness and walked over to the same teachers desk Emily was standing on.

“I saw Mrs. Bersbedasukeon put the paper with our group project partners on the third drawer from the bottom on the right said,” DJ told Emily, DABBING and pointing toward the correct drawer. Emily pulled open the drawer and grabbed the single piece of paper sitting on there. A piece of paper that could change the life of ALL THE NAMES ON IT. This paper would be the most sacred thing Emily would touch in a long time.

“This piece of paper is so precious,” Emily hugged the paper to her chest while violently popping her p’s.

“Just switch the names!!!!,!!!!!!!” DJ annoyingly said, banging on the desk to gain Emily’s attention back. Emily nodded and started whiting out a few names on the paper with... WHITE OUT; which she had conveniently stashed in her coat pocket and had just pulled out for this specific reason.

(A/N: okiiii idk how to describe this next part because it always plays like a movie in my head... if that makes sense... IDK. But anyway I’m gonna write this next part like a script so it’s easier for y’all to understand. Remember dailysarina cares about her followers!!! ;))

Emily: *quickly runs white out over a few ^convenient^ names*

DJ: *rewrites the new group partners aS THEY SHOULD BE*

“Good. That’s good,” Emily said as DJ forged the teachers’ handwriting. Then the super sneaky spy duo (A/N: “Nice use of alliteration” -Mr. Scoggins, my English teacher haha jk I would DIE if he read this lol xD) left the classroom until the next day.

THE NEXT DAY............,,....

I enter through the doorway to my art class, brushing my newly dyed pink hair out of my eyes and adjusting my lilac colored flower crown. ‘I wonder if Sarah will notice my hair?’ I wonder. Wait. WHY DID I THINK THAT?? Ugh this is so annoying. Sarah is literally the scariest person I’ve ever seen and yet I am CONSTANTLY worried about what she thinks of me. What is up with that?? It probably just because I’m a weird person, and that’s what weird people do. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Ew your hair looks like a fairy threw up on it,” Sarah quipped at me the second I walked in the room, without even making eye contact. What the heck?!??,.! Why is she so MEAN? “You also look like that girl from LazyTown.” OH THAT’S IT.

“Yeah, well... you look like Susie from DELTARUNE!” I screamed back at her, crossing my arms in satisfaction. I can’t believe I actually stood up to her! She didn’t get mad and punch me in the face like I thought she would. She didn’t even yell another insult back at me. She just smiled a bit, and went back to drawing a skull and cross bones on her ripped jeans with eyeliner. I skip over to a giggling Emily and DJ, who were sitting at the table next to Sarah, and sit down, fluffing the skirt of my light pinkish salmon dress as I sit.

“What are you laughing about?” I say to my freinds, who seem to be cackling about something I don’t know about. Are they laughing at me?? I wouldn’t be surprised if they were, considering all my old friends at my old school started bullying me for being weird. UGH! WHy is being weird so hard in high school??

“Nooooiittththhhhhiiiiinnnnnnngggggggg............” the blonde haired girl and the brown eyed boy said in complete unison. Ok, that was creepy, I’m just going to ignore that.

“I will now read out the partners I’ve assigned for this art project y’all will be working on,” our teacher, Mrs. Bersbedasukeon yelled at us. I really hope I get a good partner that doesn’t make fun of my pink hair. And I rreeeeaaallllly hope I don’t get Sarah. ANYONE BUT SARAH.

“The first pair will be Karina and Sarah.”

...

...

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“Ummm, can I please- but I am cut off by the rudest teacher to ever exist. She just goes on giving out partners like I don’t have a problem with mine. HOW RUDE IS THAT

“Ugghhhhhhh now our project is gonna be covered in rainbows and glitter and pink flowers, gross.” Sarah said, banding her head on the table. I feel like I’m about to cRY. THIS IS GONNA BE H O R R I B L E. why does all the horrible stuff always have to happen to me? My life sucks,

“Well have fun with you Project, you guys,” Emily quips sarcastically, popping the p, but I did NOT think it was funny. She gets to work with DJ, and that’s NOT FAIR. why can’t THEY work with Sarah???” At least they sort of l i k e her.

This is probably all their fault.

I hate them sooooooo much. :( 😭

...

WHOOOAAAAAAAA CLIFFHANGERRRRRRRR!!! xD. Soz that this chapter was a little confusing but a lot of stuff that needed to happen so the story can finally pick up (I can’t believe I’ve written 18 chapters!!!) I honestly think this is the best thing I’ve ever written, but REMEMBER. I have NEVER written anything before this is my FIRST time trying fanfic and I really don’t want anyone to judge me. Don’t be r00d LOLOLOLOL.

On a different note........ my mom is FINALLY taking our family to Chicago and I’m literally going to be spending all week hunting for my two favorite people EEEEEEEEEE. I’m hoping to see them at least 7 times, maybe more? I mean I know what kind of places they like to eat at and where they hang out with people (don’t ask me how I know I’ll never tell hehehehe) so it shouldn’t be too hard to find them. By the end of the week they’re gonna LOVE ME! xD xD Anywayyyyy because of that I probably won’t be writing another chapter next week, but I will still be posting d a n k memes about our children! Dailysarina is signing off now hehe. Peace!!! ✌️

[eldestsalvatore]

Who Am I?

‘Who do you think you are?’

It’s a loaded question and if the bar patron knew of my story they’d find it’s one hell of a tale. Unfortunately, they don’t. This man who is most likely in his mid thirties is under the ill belief I’m some stranger that he’s about to teach a lesson to but oh how wrong he is. My visit to this pub was simply to have a drink with no trouble. Sadly, I forget the universe is never kind to me and the things I want I never get. This idiot has had one too many and wanted to pick a fight but he’s chosen the wrong opponent to match up against.

The corner of my lips quirk into my signature smirk. My pale baby blues take the stranger in as he circles around me. Him and his buddies think three against one is an easy fight. However, they are severely mistaken because they’ve never gone up against someone like myself before. I’m in a run down alley after taking my leave from the pub but they followed. Of course they followed thinking they were stalking their vulnerable prey but the joke is on them because I’m not the prey. I’m the predator. The deadliest of all.

‘Who do you think you are?’

The question again runs through my mind as I begin to answer it for myself. I was once a man son to Giuseppe Salvatore. No, no more like a burden to Giuseppe Salvatore. The son my father never wanted. The son who was always deemed a disappointment and lost cause. Why? Perhaps because I had a voice that I never silenced or had no fear in defying him. Either way I was the outcast while my little brother Stefan was seen as the Golden boy. Even as a child he had already been given the title of ‘could do no wrong.’ Living in that era I had felt trapped. Doomed to go around and around on this never ending merry-go-round called life. I was convinced that life would remain the same but boy was I wrong. Enter Katherine Pierce the woman who changed my life and ironically she changed me.

When my eyes fell upon Katherine I honestly believed she had been an angel fallen from grace. Again with the irony seeing as she was practically the devil herself. A wolf in sheep’s clothing and soon I learned she was like no other woman. No, she was like no other human because she wasn’t human. A woman I had once deemed from the heavens instead had been delivered from hell itself. Now, most men would flee and run for the hills but I wasn’t most men. I embraced it because ‘what’ she was made no difference to me only the ‘who’ and who she was at the time was the love of my life. I didn’t have many people in my life. I was viewed as an outcast and in time labeled a deserter. The people, my own people who had watched a boy grow into a man had turned their backs on me, thrown things at me and even turned on me. ‘Yankee’ is what they’d say each time I’d try to walk into one of their shops. I wasn’t welcomed so it’s really no surprise that this outsider felt drawn to the darkness that Katherine presented me with. Humanity wasn’t something that would be hard to part with because it meant I’d have forever with my beloved Katherine.

‘Who do you think you are?’

I’m someone who has experienced loss because many years ago back in Mystic Falls one night the council took part in a vampire roundup. My brother being the naive and starry eyed fool that he was hadn’t spilled the beans but had said enough to draw my father’s suspicions. He had laced Stefan’s drink with vervain which is deadly to vampires. Think of it like Supermans kryptonite from his home planet and how it weakened him. That’s what vervain is. When Katherine fed on my brother she weakened instantly proving my father’s suspicion and just like that my beloved was hauled off.  

‘Who do you think you are?’

Someone who knows death because I was ready to embrace it in more ways than one. That night I had run off wanting to free Katherine only to be shot by my own father. Dying wasn’t scary because in my death I’d be greeted to life. When I finally did come around I rushed off only to stand witness to my Katherine burning in the church the council had set fire to. There was no world without her. I had joined this world to be apart of her world but with her no longer in it I hadn’t wanted to be in it. I couldn’t even fathom it and a world without her was a world I had no desire to live in. Eternity, something I once viewed as a gift I only saw as a curse. I was ready to say goodbye. I was ready to die but my brother wasn’t. He had always been selfish and always expected to get his way. My parents had spoiled him rotten and he was never used to the word no. It’s not all that surprising he wasn’t pleased with my choice but what was shocking was the realization Katherine had fed him her blood. She had made me believe I was the only one joining her as a vampire and yet there he was a newly turned vampire gloating on how he had killed our dear ole daddy and how much he had reveled in the taste of blood.

‘Who do you think you are?”

Someone who knows betrayal from Katherine and brother who had forced me into completing the transition. The two people I loved had hurt me the most and yet only one I had promised vengeance to. An eternity of misery that I was keen on delivering. Stefan would feel my wrath and Katherine would too because it turned out thanks to Emily’s admission Katherine was indeed still alive, entombed and it would take me over a century to reunite with her. That’s one hundred and forty five years and though the wait time was hell I’d endure it for her, for me and for the future she had promised us. 

A punch straight to the chest snaps me from my thoughts as I let out a low groan. I flick my eyes around and notice they’ve now got me cornered. Their closeness is meant to intimidate but it only amuses me. I allow them the assumption they have me beat for a few more seconds before I decide it’s time to answer them.

“You shouldn’t be asking who I am”

I drawl and it’s enough for the first thug to get in my face. Ugh, greeted to the stench of cheap beer and cigarette lovely combo.

“Shut up bitch”

Bitch, right because I’m not fighting back. I’m the poor ole victim who is getting his ass handed to him and in a few seconds will probably be left knocked out on the cold pavement. He draws his arm back and I’m anticipating him to strike. In one fluid motion he’s coming in hard but before he can make contact I’m effortlessly catching his wrist and flashing a smirk at his dumbfound expression.

Showtime

“You should be asking what I am”

Allowing my vampire visage to come out in true form. Baby blues darkening into a soulless black. Veins appearing beneath my eyes and fangs elongating from behind my gums. Violently I’m pIercing my fangs straight into his flesh. I’m usually a little gentler when I feed because I’m not a messy eater but this guy really ticked me off. I rip into his flesh and I hear him howl in pain. The two men from around me start to freak out causing me to draw back and SNAP cracking his neck so his lifeless body sags to the floor. Blood running down my chin as I shoot my gaze over towards them bolting out of the alley but I’m faster, much faster.

Now, standing in front of them and blocking them from their freedom. Their buddies blood dribbling down my chin and running onto my jacket. I revel in the fear mirroring in their eyes as I cock my head to the side and observe them. They’re not daring to move. Oh how the tables have turned because they’re the ones to petrified to move.

“And what I am gentleman”

Flashing them a smile fangs and all as I advance forward.

“Is a vampire”

Without another word I strike thrusting my hand into one of their chests and pulling their heart out. Turning towards the other as I display the object in my hand and then toss it carelessly to the ground. This one, this one is my dinner as I sink my fangs into his tender flesh. Pulling the blood, his sweet ambrosia and my life source into my mouth. The more I take the slower his pulse becomes. If I was nice I’d stop pull a snatch, eat, erase and send him on his way but I’m not nice so I take every last drop he has to offer and then drop his body down with a thud. Glancing around the dark alley I take in the art I’ve just made. It’s beautiful. Three dead corpses scattered about on the cold pavement. I think I’ll title this piece ‘Don’t Mess With Me.’ I chuckle at my dry humor, my face returning to normal as one by one I effortlessly haul each body and throw them into the dumpster letting whoever comes here next be the one to discover them. What a surprise that will be. 

It’s where they belong.

Where do I belong?

Well, I have a long overdue trip to Mystic Falls and some serving of an eternity of misery to deliver towards my baby bro.

So, who am I?

I’m Damon Salvatore. Once man, turned monster and I’m back.