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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Marinette’s Week Off

This is a one-shot. Sorry, I kind of forgot Adrien.

One week. Just one week. Marinette took one week off a year. One week where she didn’t work herself to death as Marinette. Or nearly get herself killed as Ladybug. One week where she didn’t do any favors, any designs, didn’t work in the bakery, didn’t save anyone. A week to relax. A week to meditate. A week to destress and just take care of herself. Just one week every year. To prepare for it she sent reminders to all her friends and family. She posted a flyer on the class bulletin board. Marinette finished all her commission and school work in advance.

She made Fu aware that Ladybug wouldn’t be active, told Chat Noir that Queen Bee would be his partner while she was gone. Marinette always made sure everyone was prepared for her absence. And made it clear that she would be unavailable. No matter what. She didn’t care if the world was ending.

However, this year was different than the ones that came before. For starters, Marinette now only had two or three good friends in class, and one or two mediocre ones. She only warned those three people. While she still posted her usual flyer, she had done it knowing it would be disregarded.

Marinette was no longer class president either; she no longer had to plan class trips, parties, or dances. Or anything of the sort. When she was class president, Marinette always made sure to plan her week off around the class’s busiest time of the year. That year, she didn’t have to so she didn’t. In fact, she planned her week off during the biggest dance of year, the class musical, the class’s big fundraiser. It was usually her most stressful week of the year.

Not this time.

On the Friday before her week off, Marinette reminded Bustier of her absence for the next week, and then walked out of class with a relieved smile on her face. She was almost there. Just two more days. She used her weekend to finish up any last minutes details of her vacations; confirm her reservation; spend most of the time with her parents.

And on the stroke of midnight that turned Sunday to Monday, Marinette got her bags, kissed her parents goodbye and was gone in her Uber. She knew how this week worked. By six am, the ‘emergency’ calls would start; everyone screaming fire. However, she wouldn’t be there to put them out, metaphorical fires or real ones.

Not today, Satan, Marinette thought.

Marinette got to the airport, slept on the plane ride, arrived at her luxury beach resort, a little after sunrise. She had saved up her money and did extra commissions all year to pay for it. It was beautiful. However, there was just one problem…

“Marinette, love!” Jagged called, somehow looking more awake in the wee hours of the morning than he did at 3 in the afternoon. Penny, however, looked half-asleep. Even Fangs slept on the luggage being moved by a rather fearful looking bellhop.

Marinette’s parents couldn’t get time off the bakery; it was their busiest time too. Her grandma was in Peru. Mariette needed an adult with her at the resort. Jagged happened to overhear her mother asking if she found a chaperone yet. It wasn’t like Marinette had any other options.

“I have so many Rockin’ plans!” Jagged said. “Scuba diving! Sky diving. Swimming with sharks. Parasailing! Bungee jumping!”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at her favorite rockstar and honorary Uncle, “Sleep.” She said.

Jagged waved her off, “We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”

“Sleep,” Marinette hissed darkly.

As amazing as that all sounded it could wait. Marinette was there to relax, not fight a shark. “Not today, Satan,” She whispered when she checked into her room. Leaving Penny to drag away a protesting Jagger to get some sleep as well. She called her parents to let her she had gotten there safely, called to re-confirm her spa reservation for that afternoon and then check her texts.

She had gotten quite a few as expected. Chloe wishing her a good vacation and promising to keep an eye on Chat. Luka sent her funny vacation memes. Nathaniel sent pics or didn’t happen texts; he found the possibility of Marinette all people actually taking a vacation hilarious and improbable. She’d show him though.

Then there were a few texts from her ex-friends. And it seemed like the fires had started…

When class started on Monday, most didn’t realize that Marinette wasn’t there until Bustier reminded Chloe to remind Chloe about the test next week. They all shrugged it off. Glad not to have to deal with the drama Marinette brought to class.

When Alya, the new class president, brought up the dance that Friday, things got a little tense.

“We need volunteers,” The glasses-wearing girl said. “People to decorate and to clean up and all that. We also need to get decorations.”

She received confused looks.

“Isn’t that your job?” Alix asked. “The class president does all that.”

Alya crossed her arms, “No it’s not my job. I organize and plan but I can’t do everything by myself.”

“Marinette did,” Kim shrugged. “It can’t be that hard.”

“Do you wanna do it?” Alya asked him but he quickly shook his head. “Thought so. We don’t have a big budget. So can anyone chip in for decorations and food?”

Mylene frowned, “Marinette made all the decorations and food.” They never had to chip in before. “Maybe she’d do it again.”

There were nods. They may not be friends with the girl anymore but she was still very helpful.

“OH! I need a dress,” Rose brightened up the room with her smile. “Marinette made mine last year. It was so beautiful. I’ll ask her to make another.”

A few of the girls said the same.

“Not gonna happen,” Chloe smirked. “You guys are on your own.”

Alya shot her a glare. “And we’ll be just fine.” She wasn’t happy about asking her ex-bestie for anything, anyway.

They were not fine.

Monday they had all talked a big game about not needing Marinette but by Tuesday, they realized that was a lie.

Because everything was falling apart.

Mylene’s musical was Friday, the day before the dance. More than half the class were either in it or helping with it. That meant Alya had barely any volunteers for the Dance committee. And had been reminded by Bustier about the annual fundraiser they did every year to pay for the class trip. Alya had been class president since the beginning of the year, and had been responsible for planning it. She had forgot all about it.

Alya was confident she managed though. They’d pull in enough money to pay for the entire trip and she’d get to rub it in Marinette’s face that no one needed. Alya hoped Lila was back in time from her trip with Prince Ali to see it.

In addition, neither she nor Bustier seem to remember that the fundraiser was always biggest because it was the last one of the year. Marinette usually had done several different ones by then.

Mylene was struggling. None of the sets were done. The costumes were terrible. The entire play seemed to be falling apart. They had forgot to only put up flyers promoting the play but they never even made them. She didn’t understand, normally everything would be going as smooth as silk by then. Silk…

“Marinette,” She gasped. Yes, she remembered, Marinette always helped out with the school plays. The Bluenette would fix the costumes. She’d even help out with the flyers and the set. Mylene pulled out her phone and quickly called her ex-friend. It went to voice mail. She frantically sent a dozen texts, all screaming emergency. But she never got a reply.

Marinette laid on the beach, drinking virgin Pina Colada, while talking with a boy she met while surfing and subtly eyeing him. He was a seventeen-year-old, tanned, dark haired Adonis, literally named Adonis. He was ripped in a way Marinette had only every previously seen on guys in magazines or on TV. Marinette was fifteen, (Sixteen in just a few months) had grown remarkably into her looks, and smirked a bit every time she caught Adonis eyeing her back.

“I got to go,” Adonis said. “Work.” He leaned a bit closer to Marinette. “If you wanna drop by, I wouldn’t mind. Maybe we can go for a swim together.”

Marinette flushed with excitement and blushed a lovely pink by the offer, “That sounds amazing! What do you do?”

He grinned a sparkling white smile that lit up his gray eyes, and caused Marinette to let out a dreamy sigh. “I work with my dad. We do underwater scuba tours and explore sea wildlife and dormant underwater volcanos. We just got be careful to avoid sharks.”

Marinette’s fell open, and she just stared at the older boy for a moment, “I’m a little busy today. But can we meet up later,” She squeaked.

They said they goodbyes. And once Adonis was out sight, Marinette’s eyes narrowed, “Not today, Satan.”

An image of the first time saw Adonis suddenly floated to the front of her mind. Adonis coming out of the water, with his surfer board and red swim trucks, running towards dry land.

Marinette took a deep breath to stead herself; fight the urge to go running after Adonis. Because there was no way in hell she was going to deal with a “Dormant” volcano. And she didn’t mess with sharks. Neither did Jagged anymore and he had to learn his lessons the hard way. He was lucky to come back with all his limbs.

By Wednesday, everyone was panicking. Alya refused to give in and attempted to rally her troops; with a divide and conquer plan. Lila had even come back early and graciously offered to take time away from her busy schedule to help. Alya decided they’d work on the play first. Then prepare for the dance, it shouldn’t take that long to decorate anyway, Alya had guess. Then finally they work on the fundraiser. Everything would go perfectly.

…Everything went wrong.

They worked the entire morning on the Mylene’s musical. They tried to work on the costumes. But they had no one who could fix the costumes. Any tailor they went to cost an arm and a leg. Lila’s personal tailor was away helping the Duchess of Manchester with her wedding dress. Max could print flyer but only generic ones. Not the creative ones Marinette had always made. And it wasn’t like they could ask Nathaniel for help without him spitting acid at them. The sets had to be rushed; and ended up poorly painted. Not even close to as good as the ones Marinette had help do the year before and even worse than the ones other classes had done. To make matters worse, the light fixtures they had installed started a small fire.

Mylene had a full blown panic attacked that caused one of the strongest Akuma Queen Bee and Chat Noir had ever faced.

The musical had taken up most of the day. So Alya and the class spent the rest of it and most of the night trying to prepare for the dance. The problem was their budget was small. Apparently it had always been that small which had shocked Alya and the others as they remembered the amazing dances Marinette had always thrown. The only decorations came from the local party story and were as cheap as possible. But they hadn’t gotten nearly enough when they got to gym and fully realize the size of it. But most of their budget was already shot on what they did get.

While for the last few years, Marinette’s had supplied most of the food for the dances from the bakery. It was clear to Alya that, it wouldn’t be happening. Most of the class had been banned from the shop. Alya ended up having to buy dollar store chips and drinks; and ended up with a cliché fruit punch bowl.

Everyone got in trouble with their parents for being out so late. Even if they had been at school. All the kids were exhausted and overly stressed. When Alya got home that night, she got a text from Nino that caused her to burst into tears. His DJ gear had fried. They had no music for the dance.

Not to mention Alya hadn’t even thought about the fundraiser. What was she going to do? What could she do?

Alya cried herself to sleep. Knowing that in the morning she’d have to swallow her pride and call in the big guns. She needed Marinette. They all did.

Marinette was having the time of her life. She laughed as let Heinrich and Mila twirl her around the dance floor. She was at a local teen club, out late, and truly partying for the first time in her life. He was a sixteen-year-old, six foot tall, blond, gorgeous fut-baller, with cheekbones that could cut glass. He had come to the city with his team for a charity match all the way from Germany. Mila was a beautiful redhead from Ireland, with startling blue eyes and a face dusted with freckles. She was a futballer too and was the most competitive person Marinette had ever met.

Marinette had met the futball players, the girls’ team and the boys’ team at the beach. When the girls realized they only had five plays to the boys’ six and needed another girl. They saw Marinette alone and invited her to play. They all had a blast. Afterwards, they invited her to the club that night.

Marinette had danced with everyone. However, somehow she had found herself smashed between Heinrich and Mila, more often than anyone else.

The three laughed their way off the dance floor when Tonya, a local girl with green hair, and a futballer herself, had waved them over.

“We’re going to Fairy Ridge,” Tonya shouted over the music.

Marinette’s interest was piqued. “Fairy Ridge?”

Tonya answered happily, “It’s beautiful at night. An underground cave, near the ocean. It has this opening at the top and you can see all stars. It has a bunch of colorful crystals that glow in the moonlight, and fill up the cave.”

“Sweet,” Mila said, her arm still around Marinette. “Sounds like a party, mate.”

Everyone agreed quickly. But Marinette wasn’t too sure. It was really late to the point where Jagged would be proud when she got back. Penny had made Marinette promise to avoid doing anything that would make Jagged proud; apart from the Bluenette’s usual awesomeness of course.

“You are coming, yes, Marinette?” Heinrich gave her his most charming smile that made Marinette go weak in the knees.

“Marinette, the ridge is so cool,” Tonya exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. “It’s supposed to be magic. They say fairies used to really live there. It’s cursed. They say all who enter are given a test of worth. Those who pass are stolen away to live under fae rule forever more as a fairy.”

Marinette just looked at her. She thought of Tikki, the small magical god of creation, who was enjoying her vacation in the luxury sweet as well. When Marinette left her, she had been in a bowl of cookies finally getting caught up on Game of Thrones. A god who’s power turned Marinette into a magical superhero. Magical was real. And if A kwami was real, fairies could be too.

The bluenette pursed her lips, and feigned a look of disappoint, “Sorry, guys. It’s so late. I’m already super passed my curfew. You guys go. We’ll hang tomorrow, okay?”

The other teens expressed their disappointment, though Mila and Heinrich tried to convince her a bit more as they left the club. Jagger’s personal driver already waited for her.

Once they had parted ways, Marinette got into the car and drove off. She waved brightly to the backs of the beautiful teens, “Not today, Satan.”

Thursday, the entire class was freaking out. They had all gotten there early, desperate to try to fix the mess they were in. Even Alya could admit she needed some serious help. They all waited for Marinette to show up. Surely, it had to be back by now, right? They needed her!

When the school bell rang starting class, and once again, Marinette didn’t appear. Alya nearly screamed. “Where is she?” She asked. “Marinette can’t miss this much school!”

“She’s not replying to my texts,” Mylene said, her eyes frantic with worry. Her boyfriend Ivan tried to calm her down.

“She never got back to me either,” Rose frowned. “Normally I’d get a bunch of questions asking about the style of wanted for my dress by now.”

Alya stomped her foot. “Marinette hasn’t answered a single of calls. What part of S.O.S doesn’t she understand? The dance is falling apart. I have no idea what to do about the fundraiser on Sunday. We need her. I swear if that girl lost her phone again…”

“You’ll do what?” Surprising it was Nathanial who asked this. There was silence at his questions. “That’s what I thought. You’ll do nothing. One, because you have no right to text the girl you disowned as a friend and ridiculed for the last year for help. Two, you couldn’t take Marinette in a fight with everyone in this class helping you. And three, you’re the one who turned down her offers to help all year; citing that you didn’t need her. You don’t get to beg for help at the last minute, and be surprised that she can’t do it.” The speech had turned into an angry rant by the end as the once quiet redhead glared at them with poorly concealed disgust.

Chloe knew bringing Nathanial into their fold had been a smart idea. She sent a vicious smile to the class, “Marinette’s on vacation. She won’t be back until Monday.” Chloe relaxed in her seat. “For her ex-friends; it’s her one week. You should know what that means”

There were gasps. Alya’s face drained of color. They all knew what that meant. Marinette was gone in the wind, and she wouldn’t come back or answer her phone even if fire rained from the sky as furbys finally revealed the truth of their evilness and declared themselves the new rules of earth.

They were on their own.

Lila watched with a frown as her classmates fell apart. She didn’t think this would happened when she got Alya to replace Marinette as class president. Who knew the idiots could survive without the girl?

“No dresses,” Rose realized. All the girls in class looked ready to cry. Marinette always made their dresses, always. What were they going to do? They never saved up any money for a dress because they never had to before.

Mylene started crying, “The play is ruined.” She sobbed. “I worked so hard on it.”

“What about the fundraiser?” Alix asked. “So much for going to New York or anywhere! Our class trip is ruined!”

Bustier looked at a loss of what to do as her student began to panic. “Now everyone calm down. Breath.” She said calmly. “It. Will. Be. Fine.”

Alya paced around the class, her hair wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep. “Ok, we can do this! I can do this!” She hissed. “I don’t need Marinette. I’ve never needed Marinette!” She looked around at the class. “None of us do. Anything she can do, we can do better, right?” Some looked unsure but Alya manage to rally everyone. “We can get our own dresses!” She yelled. “We can decorate our own dance. We fix the school play. And we will do the fund raiser. Without her, who need that bully anyway?”

Nathaniel and Chloe shared a look and rolled their eyes. This would be good.

The next few days would go down in Bustier’s class history as the worst three days of the students’ lives. And the most embarrassing.

Barely anyone showed up for Mylene’s musical. None of the costumes were finished. The sets were a disaster. The actors were so frazzled, they couldn’t remember their lines. Three people walked out. One of them was Kim’s grandmother. Kim who had been one of the lead actors.

On the day of Mylene’s play, Marinette woke up from her second nap of day to Penny banging on her door. When the bluenette opened it, the woman screamed, “Get ready!”

“What?” Marinette yawned, still half-asleep.

“Get. Ready. Now,” Excitement shown in the older woman eyes. She bounced around the room, opened Marinette’s closet and started throwing out clothes. “Hurry!”

“Why?” It was her vacation. Marinette didn’t want to rush. Or move.

“Zac Efron,” Penny squealed. That got Marinette’s attention and it was all Marinette need to shoot to attention and start scrambling to get ready. “Tom Holland, and Zendaya are filming a movie on an island close by. Jagged got us passed to go set.”

As Marinette got dressed she asked, “What’s the movie about?”

Penny gave a dreamy sigh, “Pirates and adventures. It’s a musical. Zendaya plays a kickass pirate who takes control of her father’s ship after he dies to rescue her genius half-brother, played by Tom Holland, who managed to figure out the location of the greatest treasure in all of history, from the evil Pirate King, played by Zac Efron.”

“Now that’s a musical I’d watch,” Marinette finished her make up in the mirror.

“And get this!” Penny paused for dramatic effect. “Harry Styles is the love interest. He supposed to be on set sometime this week.”

Marinette screamed.

They took a helicopter to the island. It was the best day of her life. She got to meet the goddess that was Zendaya, Her real life prince charming Tom Holland, and the man of her dreams Zac Efron. They were nice. They were sweet. They took so many pictures and videos with her.

When Jagged mentioned Marinette designed most of his wardrobe. Marinette even got to show off her sketch book she had brought when the cast was too busy and it got boring. Zendaya commissioned a dress. She nearly right there.

Then the director got a call, “Okay Harry’s arrived. He’s waiting at the cave. Time to shoot the act 5, scene 1.”

They all moved to leave.

“Cave?” Marinette found herself asking.

Penny nodded, “Its historically accurate. The real life Captain Wolfblood, the guy who’s treasure everyone wants, supposedly buried his there. Pirates fought and died there all the time trying to find it. Supposed to be cursed. So whoever died was bound there for eternity; their ghosts protect the treasure. Killing all who enter their domain.”

Marinette found herself stopping in her tracks, “Pirate Ghosts.” She stated. “Cursed treasure.”

“Harry Styles…” Penny sang, causing Jagged to give her a sour look.

Harry Styles… For the first time that vacation Marinette was tempted to go. Tempted to risk pirates’ curses and murderous ghosts just to see the man who had caused ten-year-old Marinette to write Mrs. Harry Styles in her diary for a month.

“I actually have to facetime my parents,” Marinette frowned. “Reception terrible out here.”

After promising to meet them for dinner, Marinette booked it off the island. As it faded from sight, and all her wishes of being the future Mrs. Harry Styles burned, she whispered, “You stepped of your game. I’m impressed.” She glared at the window. “But Not today, Satan.”

The dance was a catastrophe. Everyone in class could admit to that. All the girls wore their dresses from the year before. For the first time, there was no live performance. Just Nino’s play music from his phone. Until it died midsong. They forgot to get helium for the balloons, so they had to blow them up themselves. The chips were stale. The punch tasted like rotten bananas. No one alerted the proper staff regarding the dance so no one warned the janitor not to wax the gym floor the night before. Five kids hurt themselves. Alya forgot to get chaperones. And found Damocles and Mendeleiev shut down the entire dance before it even got passed its first hour.

The night of the dance would go down as the best night of Marinette’s life. The director from the day before had liked Marinette so much that gave her the role of Lunaris, mermaid princess, originally played by an actress who had backed out of the role at the last second. Like literally right before they were supposed to shoot her scenes. It was a small role; Marinette didn’t have many lines and only two songs to herself (and fillers song lines throughout the movie). Plus she died. (The entire part took five days to film, and Marinette ended up staying on her vacation an additional two days. Her parents instantly approved; wanting their daughter away from the drama of her ex-friends. However, Marinette would be called in for additional reshoots and scenes, a month later. Then more after that as they would expand her role) She spent the entire time in a mermaid costume. Up until the last act of the movie.

However, her character was in love with Harry Styles’ character, a mermaid prince who became human for chance to win the love of Zendaya’s character. Her character more or less had been the prince’s childhood best friend who never admitted to being in love with him until it was too late. She had spent the entire movie supporting him to win the main character’s heart. Her first song was sang as she helped him escape the underwater kingdom to go to his true love while she hid her own; choosing to put him before herself. The next day it was revealed that they were supposed to have been betrothed and united their kingdoms. Her second song happened after she chose to fight on land to save her friend and taking a killing blow for him; she died singing to the prince about not waiting to tell someone you love until its’ too late; especially if the love’s worth dying for. Or walking on land for.

After shooting her scenes for the day; she was invited by the cast to go meet Chris Heimsworth who was vacationing at a nearby island resort. They were going to go budging jumping of the highest mountain on the Island, near shark infested waters. Again Marinette only had one thing to say to that, “Not today, Satan.” She was not going to fight a shark. Not that week. No matter how much she loved Thor. (She’d later find out Tom Hiddleston was there and cry.)

The fundraiser had cost more than it raised. That was all anyone was willing to say on the subject. Particularly Alya who was missing her eyebrows.

The day of the fundraiser, the Day Marinette was supposed to return home, was bliss. At the end of it, Marinette found herself watching the sunset with Jagged and Penny.

“We should visit mermaid isle,” Penny suggested. “I heard it’s magical. There’s a spot that grants wishes… At a price.”

Marinette didn’t bother to ask for anymore. She just smiled, “Not today, Satan.”

The next morning, the Monday Marinette should have already been back home, instead she was getting ready to shoot some more scene for the movie. Then she got a call.

“Hey Marinette!” Kimi, the director, said. “We were hoping you could come in early today. We have to shoot your death scene.”

“Oh! Sweet! Where?”

“Shark cove. It will be perfect,” Kimi said cheerfully. “This time before your last breath, Harry’s going to kiss you goodbye. So eat a mint.”

Marinette mind froze. Kiss… Harry? “Shark cove?”

“Yeah, we’ll have to be careful not to attract any, you know?” Kimi sighed. “It’ll be a bit dangerous. You okay with that?”

The bluenette wanted to scream no way. But it was a new week. “I’m there,” She said firmly. For a kiss from Harry Styles, she’d do anything.

Vacation time was over. Marinette was going to fight a shark.

When Marinette returned to school on Wednesday, it was to the frustrated faces of her classmates. None of them talked to her. Just glared coldly. Though Alya did give her a sarcastic, welcome back.

Marinette just shrugged and went to sit at her desk next to Chloe and Nathaniel, who were both grinning.

“How was it?” Marinette asked them.

Nathaniel smirked, “Epic! Three fires. Two poisonings. A kid broke his leg. Four more ended up in the emergency room.”

“The play was a disaster,” Chloe added. “The dance was shut down after an hour. The fire department came to the so called fund raiser. You were gone for little more than a week and these morons nearly got themselves killed like four times.”

“We got in on video!” Nathaniel laughed.

Marinette laughed.

She looked at the stressed and embarrassed students of Bustier’s class, even the teacher looked worse for wear.

Marinette smirked.

Somebody obviously needed a vacation. Or rather… Everybody.

#ml salt #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better

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thekitschdiet · 3 years

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the kitsch diet part II

part one alr posted!! this chunk is about 3,000~ words long... let me know what u think :-) thank u all for all the luv already!!! looks like I really will hit 31 followers by easter!!!!!!!!

Who is the Kitsch Girl?

I think this is more loosely defined, but The Chic Diet did a truly admirable way of reducing a girl to her YSL bag and her really skinny legs. Now, that implies an archetype, or a population in a specific location. I think kitschness is kind of the niche you fill when you’re not really much of anything else, sort of your own conglomerate of mainstream-specific. One major requirement, though, is being a little too into something somewhat uncool. And the whole illusion falls apart if you have any sort of outward insecurity. See, the Kitsch Girl is somewhat undefinable because she is so much of everything. She exists in multitudes, in a way that is also quite simple to understand; think of a list of axioms, or principles to live by. And now add a section to each one that says “but…” to make a collection of verified exceptions. Say, the kitsch girl will never wear jeans. But she thrifted this pair of vintage flares she just loves. She doesn’t reply to texts efficiently, but sometimes she will within a couple seconds. No mascara, no dinner forks, candles are to be collected not burned; but that was a gift, or something. It’s not personal, of course, those are just the contradictions she exists in. Don’t try to understand it, the enigma is essential to the facade. Or maybe she just lives like this, and her character is so homogenous with her inner world there’s no sense in trying to separate it. You have to have a little bit of an individuality complex about the whole ordeal, which is normally so eugh, but if you’re kitschy enough it works on you. Trust!The Kitsch girl is not someone unlikeable, but amiable and well heeled. I double checked that last one, assuming it meant liked by most, but apparently means affluent. I suppose that is an aspect of the kitsch girl too, having seemingly endless frivolous expenses with no real strain, but that’s not important right now. People that don’t like her think so out of jealousy, or something. Envious that her clothes are all kind of shake-it-up-esque and her highlights desperately need touching up, but she still seems so enthralled with the whole of life… How does she enjoy her own company so much when other people want to know her better? Doesn’t she feel weird about blowing people off to make a joke about reading Kafka in the bath? Why would she document her cluttered, unexciting life on Instagram so delicately, so vibrantly? Of course, no one would say this to her face because they are really baseless claims. She’s nice, generous, and valuable to have as a friend. Trade-offs exist, as they do with anyone. But I like thinking it’s easier to overlook a forgotten birthday when your kitschy best friend gave you a multi strand pearl necklace to celebrate the welcome breeze of June. Or some other made-up holiday. She is so unassuming if you’re not really looking. Girls want in on her inner circle. Or they just don’t care. Nothing wrong with being liked or thought of naught, for the most part. Boys are either enthralled or repulsed by her. Her doctor knows her as something of a hypochondriac, but only minorly. It’s just carpal tunnel, don’t worry… The sales staff at CVS turn a blind eye when she slips an eyeliner pencil into her tote bag. She shoplifts on occasion, just to see if she still knows how. But she is not a shoplifter. $9 here and $6.45 there doesn’t really add up to much. Everywhere she goes, she makes a tertiary friend or two. The term of friend is loosely used here, of course. But it is nice to tell a stranger you like her earrings. Or her phone case is so fun, is it Wildflower? The kitsch girl has an eye for this kind of detail. Simply put, she is sort of unspectacular. But in a way that makes you sort of wish you knew her better.

Phone cases

The phone case is, like, religious for the kitsch girl. Sorry, but there’s just no other accessory as flippant and expensive and single-purpose as a trendy little iPhone case with some semitacky stickers plastered over the design. I used to have an iPhone XS- extrasmall- with like, 18 phone cases. It was kind of a sordid affair. I jest, but really… owning that many phone cases was kind of sick. We get it, you are frivolous and spontaneous and sooo stylish! Stop posting mirror selfies on your Instagram story, your crush isn’t going to see it. Kidding again. Having an extensive collection of phone cases is just so fun because while attainable, most people just simply do not partake in it. That makes you kitschy and unique. I really thought I had more to say about the IDEA of the phone case, but I guess in practice it is all very, very simple. You can slide your driver’s license in the back of a clear case. At what point does it stop being cool to have legal operational control of a vehicle? I don’t display mine because I don’t really like the photo. I look round. In the eyes but also just in general, swollen, unglamorous. Whatever. Not like I drive a Nissan or anything. I drive my *Mom’s* Nissan. Playing Bladee in the car seems sacrilegious. She would hate it.Back to phone cases. Sonix ones are cute but kind of overpriced retail- unless you have like, an iPhone 12 Pro Max or whatever the fuck is new this year, just go to Winner’s. They always have Xs and 11 cases. I had a cherry one for my previous phone, like the exact one Lana Del Rey had? Thank god I sold it before she got outed as a copfucker or whatever. Casetify is for an inadvertent flex. Flexing your lame, lame taste. Sorry, I know you bought it because you liked it, but what you failed to consider is just how un-Kitsch they are. SO common, and they advertise on Instagram. Sorry, I just can’t get into it! Kind of how I just never liked the Brandy Amara tanks. Or lowtop converse. Otterbox is just distressing. Like, if my boyfriend gave me an otterbox phone case I would probably break up with him because somebody clearly isn’t paying attention- one of my favorite, potentially overused joke is how Otterbox cases are the equivalent of orthopedic insoles. Sorry but if you have poor arch support or whatever, but no pain is worth giving up a good pair of Margiela slingback tabi heels. Obviously I couldn’t afford that right now because all loose income goes directly to Wildflower and my cig boy. But like, one day. I hope you want to punch me in the face a little bit after reading that. If Wildflower isn’t your thing, at least have the decency to get a beaded phone strap. But not from String Ting. Pray tell you aren’t keeping score, but they are one of my several parasocial enemies. That should have been ME collaborating with Wildflower! Should have been ME mailing shit to Caroline Calloway (more on her later, but she is the only blue check I follow. I adore her! I was on her patreon for a bit I thinkl!!) …. Side note. Phone cases are cute but there is no way to properly protect your laptop without looking just absurd or colossally lame. The foam sleeves… ick.

Having the shittiest music taste ever

So like, here’s the thing. I’m an Apple Music user, which sort of reinstates my status as an unironic My Bloody Valentine Hyperpop Death Grips kinda gal. Read; volcel. My most recent conquest ended up being a huge L on my part, but also… I totally dodged a bullet. The guy had an iPhone 11 (female trait) and didn’t know who Rei Brown was, which just seemed suspicious given his Niche. I just know he had a “making out playlist” comprising entirely of like, Joji. Which isn’t a bad thing I guess but so unembarrassing it horseshoes back to being humiliating.Like I said. Having the worst music taste. It’s nice how subjective and deeply personal your music taste can be; no one really Needs to know you’re a die hard drainer. But there’s also no point in being a die-hard drainer and Not capitalizing off it somehow. I added it up and I have well over 150 hours of just Bladee and Yung Lean. Which is so yass? The more I write, using myself as a case study, I realize just how desperately jobless I am. And Yogenfruz isn’t even hiring! UGH!I think there is something very kitschy about liking hyperpop in the least ironic, least obnoxious way. Sort of feeds into a “I’m not like other girls” thing, but I mean… That’s kind of the idea of kitsch, isn’t it? Be a little different but also the very same as your lipgloss brethren?!Side note. If you make monthly playlists I am genuinely kind of afraid of you. That is just so organized!! I just make playlists with esoteric titles and then make a new one when I’m sick of the stuff on the last. I have exhausted most genres but I think my favorite is the “I’m wearing f****ng air forces and my teeth are SO white”. Guess what genre it is. Or don’t, but it’s probably what you think is. Okay, moving on….

Curating a scent

I like thinking I smell like mango and peach, Glossier you, whatever citrus is in that Lush shower jelly and mint 5Gum. But of course it is probably less distinct and just kind of generally fruit-floral-mint. Anyway. I think Glossier You is the perfect scent for anyone with a rather elementary understanding of the whole.. Perfume business. Every bottle of intentional fragrance I own was made via aesthetic choices… it really helps that Glossier You is so cute And so universal. Now, Glossier is kind of interesting to me because it really is at the intersection of cheugy and kitsch. Kind of basic, overplayed, unspectacular. But also…. Often popular things are popular because they are good. Glossier has excellent customer suurv, they ship SO fast (and no import duties! W!) and their stuff is just so sweet and nice if not unoriginal, in kind of the same way strawberry ice cream is. Which is still my favorite, of course, especially if there’s a vegan option. I was talking about Glossier. What the hell! It’s really worth trying out. A huge principle of kitsch is just… having as many possible layers and appendages to your composure as possible. And adding a signature scent just really completes that! When curating your own, I say this as a complete amateur, know-nothing; make it something that comes kind of naturally to Your Character. Like, I’m just not a Chanel No 5 kind of girl. Odds are you aren’t either. My bottle (before she asked for it back when I told her I didn’t use it, in exchange for a Nordstrom’s gift card) was from my grandmother. Ummm.. Yeah, I really have no expertise in curating a scent. But it is nice to have a signature. And having a bottle displayed on your dresser next to your aughties McDonald milkshake themed beanie baby and a handful of lip products is just way too fun! This is the kind of girl I am, everyone! Cluttered, but prioritizing pretty-delicate things!

Cheugyism

Cheugy is a relatively new word that has unfortunately wormed into my vocabulary to replace “uncouth”. Which I use to mean graceless or tacky, but if that isn’t what it means…. Don’t tell me. That would hurt more than weighing myself after a “feast” slash pastry binge at my dear Grandmothe’s house. Like I was saying. Cheugy. It’s sort of a fucked up concept to me because it is a critique on consumption, but not the pace or volume or magnitude of it. But rather… the idea of not being “good” enough at engaging in microtrends, or involvement in the fast paced fashion cycle. Don’t get me started on TikTok, or do, but… yeah,. No. That will require a cigarette because I’m so sorry, but writing a thinkpiece on social media is so lowbrow I would need to find about six ways to aesthetically counteract it…. Moving on. I think the idea of cheugy is good, we really do need a word to simply and efficiently define “out of date/uninspired/lame”. But the way it is used to shame others for not liking the same trends or whatever is kind of gross. If you use cheugyism to put other people down and not as a neutral identifier umm… you will become what you fear. Sorry, that’s what happens. Some things that I think are cheugy or embarrassing, or just not part of my stylistic lexicon are… 1. Hooded or zip up clothing, or things with a large graphic on the back. Bingo if it's all three! I just can’t get behind it. Side note, my summer home outfit is brandy sweats and a tube top (Urban Outfitters tank I ripped the straps off) and a large cardigan that should have belonged to a stoner, but probably didn’t. I can dunk on bulky, uninspired clothes because I would honest to God NEVER be caught DEAD out of the house wearing any of it. I’m so serious. Next segment should be about the kitsch girl’s inadvertent affinity for diuretics. Remind me….. One of the ports of my laptop is dead. Not really sure what to do about that.

Eye makeup and what it means to me….

Personally, I am one of those people who never wears foundation and kind of has a complex about it. The kitsch girl wears fluffy eyelashes and owns a plethora of sparkly eyeliner. Or maybe she doesn’t, but she has something distinct and a little ritzy, if not haphazard. We all saw Euphoria and it like, totally imprinted on us. The way glitter sits on your face after a long day is so resplendent. When it’s shining and a little bit melted off from your long, semi-productive day… ugh! Just made for film. Pictures on film. But not the Prequel app. I keep getting fucking ads for it. But it’s so embarrassing. Like, isn’t the whole point of film the authenticity of the moment? The texture of the afternoon? Why would you fabricate that? Prequel is just so cheugy. More on that later. But anyhow. Wearing a ton of eye makeup kind of fits with the idea of film too I think. Like, look at you, in the moment. With your strip lash falling off! It’s all so tres-chic. Plus, for whatever reason, it’s kind of unique or notably dedicated to ~Pull up to the function~ with more eye makeup on than everyone else. Sorry, but it really doesn’t take that long! But yes I will gracefully accept your praise… it’s kind of like the dropshipping of complements if you think about it. Easy to source with little to no effort in the curating. Side note, lashes are like $20 for 40 weeks if you cut them in half and use each pair about 5 times. You could probably do more but I lose track. How the fuck is it almost June? I was trudging through the snow to check the mail for my Online Ceramics shirt just last week, I swear. The trick to cutting your lashes (the way I do it anyway) is pretty simple. Get out two lashes that are symmetrical. Find the middle and cut one slightly to the left and one slightly to the right. This means you have two sets (one set is a little more dramatic than the other but at least they are symmetrical) with longer outer edges. Glue this to the outer corner of your eye and you will look so Composed… obsessed with how this layers with three eyeliner tails (one traditional one pointing up and one pointing down directly below it, sort of like the tail light on a 2019 Lexus UX) and one below your eye, like a clown. Fun, irrelevant fact, is the first time I added this third tail to my eye makeup, my dad had just gotten home from the hospital because he was sure he had like appendicitis or something and it was actually.. Not that. Typical indie hypochondriac. He made me bring him cottage cheese on a plate with a teaspoon that evening. I put black pepper on it for flair, which he hated. Walking up and down stairs with a plate of cottage cheese is much more imprinting than most of the multiplication tables. Don’t forget to use a bright shimmer eyeshadow in your inner corner. It really opens up your eyes. I recommend Too Faced. One time I got a little bit too high and tried to film an “editorial” makeup tutorial. You will never, ever, ever see that video. But I essentially covered my whole eyelid in the ABH shadow “palermo” and smudged out the edges with a tan Tartelette Toasted shade, coupled with my long-expired Milk Makeup holographic stick. Lopsided lashes and near-blinding eyeliner experience aside, it was kind of cool. My point is, you really cannot go wrong with an arsenal of shimmers, taupey mattes and a good eyeliner pen.

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btschooseafic · 3 years

Text

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Aviva and Hoseok go clubbing with Soonyoung for her birthday. Aviva has a panic attack.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. (TW: drinking, panic attack, cultural appropriation) [Masterlist]

Track 16: Afraid of the future

Doubt - Twenty One Pilots

“Scared of my own image, scared of my own immaturity

Scared of my own ceiling, scared I'll die of uncertainty”

January 4th 2013

To start off the year, Aviva posted a previously unreleased solo track Namjoon gave her. She thought the subject matter of the lyrics (“Time passes and I’m already in the 10th grade/ But I haven’t done anything so I’m worried about my future”) fit well with the troubled youth image the studio was going for.

“Come on… Get dressed…” Soonyoung whined, pulling Aviva away from her computer. “You promised!”

“I know, I know,” Aviva said. “Show me what you want me to wear so I can disagree, choose something you don’t want me to wear, and then find a compromise.”

Soonyoung’s birthday was on January 1st. This was a busy time of year, but she had managed to convince Hoseok and Aviva to sneak out clubbing with her that Friday as a belated present. Not that Hobi needed much convincing. Of course he loved dancing, but also, turning nineteen internationally this year, and able to legally drink, he was excited for the opportunity.

They started off the night going out for a drink with Yoongi, Jin, and Namjoon.

“You two look hot,” Yoongi said, bluntly as ever as he looked over the girls. Soonyoung was wearing a skin-tight green dress with pink pointy heels. Her hair was lightly curled, and her makeup was done up to the max. Aviva was barefaced as usual and wearing a black mini skirt, black tights, black boots, and an oversized black Green Day t-shirt.

Hoseok pouted. “Yah! How come you didn’t compliment me?”

Yoongi looked him over, nodded, and gave him a thumb’s up.

Hoseok blushed slightly. Namjoon laughed.

“Can we go into the bar before my break is up?” Jin grumbled.

Soonyoung leaned on Aviva, watching Namjoon and Hoseok down shots.

“Ah…I remember that age.”

“You’re literally only a year older than us!” Namjoon complained, his face flushed from either the alcohol, annoyance, or both.

“It makes a big difference sometimes,” Yoongi said wisely.

“Yeah.” Soonyoung nodded. “Respect your elders.”

“I should have the most respect, then,” Jin said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

“I just wanna go home,” Aviva muttered.

“Ah.” Jin smiled. “It’s Avi-yah saying that for once instead of Yoongi-yah.” Yoongi took a sip of his drink, grinned, and flipped him off. “Come, come, Avi-yah, this bar has some fun food too, let’s get something tasty, yeah?”

She squinted suspiciously at him. “You’re just bribing me cause I’m the designated driver, huh?”

“Also, he wants to eat more,” Yoongi put in.

“That also,” Jin agreed.

“Eh.” Aviva shrugged. “I’ll accept the bribe.” Aviva didn’t love drinking, or clubbing, but she loved her friends, and she didn’t mind tagging along with them, especially for a special occasion. She caught Jin’s eye. “Just remember you have work tonight, Jin-oppa.”

He groaned. “Why did you remind me, Avi-yah?”

“Skip and come dancing with us instead, oppa~” Soonyoung said, fluttering her shimmery mascara eyelids at him. Jin swallowed dryly. Yoongi snorted, refilling his hyung’s glass for him.

“Yah, leave him alone!” Namjoon said to Soonyoung.

“Are you sure he wants her to?” Yoongi said, smirking as he leaned on Namjoon’s shoulder.

Namjoon frowned and turned to Jin, his face serious.

“Seokjin-hyung, you wouldn’t choose Soonyoung-ssi over me—over Bangtan, right?”

Jin blinked at him. “Are you drunk already, Namjoon-ah? I thought your tolerance was higher than this…”

“I think these two got over-excited and overdid it,” Yoongi said, motioning at Hoseok at Namjoon. “Look at how red Hoseokie is.” He poked Hoseok on the cheek, laughing as Hoseok pouted.

“Well, we should go before he’s too drunk to dance,” Soonyoung thought, standing up.

“Not possible,” Hoseok said smugly.

“If you start puking all over the dance floor, you’re too drunk to dance,” Soonyoung told him. “That’s the point I make you go home and one of your boys has to nurse you all night.”

“…We all know it would be me,” Jin said, sighing. “Let’s just leave.”

Aviva dropped those who were working off at the office before driving the rest of them to the club.

At the club, Soonyoung and Hoseok pulled Aviva through the press of twisting bodies out onto the floor, sticking together as a trio.

“You’re improving,” Hoseok said in Aviva’s ear. She could just barely hear him over the thumping music. She opened her mouth to thank him, but no words came out. His smile fell and he stopped dancing. “Avi, are you okay?”

Soonyoung stopped swaying on the other side of them. She took one look at Aviva’s face and cooed softly. “Aw, baby. It’s okay. Let’s get you out of here.” She made a path through the crowd, careful not to touch Aviva or stand too close. Hoseok followed behind them, guilt and confusion twisting in his stomach. Out in the alleyway, Aviva took quick gulps of the cold air. “Can you count it out, Avi?” Aviva shook her head, her eyes tearing up as she breathed heavily. “Yes you can. Come over here by the wall…” Still without touching her, Soonyoung shepherded Aviva so that she was facing the wall, her palms pressing against the rough stone. Hoseok could see tears dripping down the side of her face, hitting the ground.

“Aviva…” He took a step closer to her.

“Hobi, it’s fine,” Soonyoung said firmly.

“Obviously, it’s not,” he growled. Aviva flinched. Hoseok took a breath, adjusting his voice to be softer. “How can I help?”

“Can you get her some cold water?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” He quickly slipped back into the club and came out again to find Aviva and Soonyoung sitting up against the wall, with their knees against their chests. Aviva was picking at a hole in her tights. Soonyoung was casually holding her pointy heels in one hand, texting with the other. Hoseok privately thought that only Lee Soonyoung could look so effortlessly cool squatting in a dirty alleyway.

Aviva didn’t meet his eyes when he handed her the water, but she drank. Hoseok was glad to see that her breathing appeared to be back to normal.

“…So,” Soonyoung said, after a moment of silence. “I’ve told Jin-oppa to come pick us up. He’ll take the train over and then drive us back.” Aviva’s eyes widened as she looked at Soonyoung, shaking her head. “No buts, kiddo, you’re not driving tonight.”

“…Okay,” Aviva said weakly. “Um, but, if you and Hobi want to stay and dance—”

“Hmmm.” Soonyoung made a bit of a face and looked at him.

“Can’t say I’m in the mood, for once,” he said honestly.

“Sorry.” Aviva stared at the toes of her boots.

“Hey.” He bent down, trying to catch her eye. “Nothing to apologize for, Avi-yah. I can dance whenever I want. Spending time with you is what makes my night special.”

“…Dork,” she muttered.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” he said, smiling at her.

Jin didn’t ask any questions. Maybe he’d been warned against it by Soonyoung, Hoseok wouldn’t have put it past her. Hoseok had about a million questions he wanted to ask, but every time he opened his mouth, he caught a glimpse of Aviva’s puffy eyes and decided to stay quiet.

“Is she going to be okay?” Jin finally asked, after he’d dropped the girls off at their place. Hoseok frowned.

“I don’t know.”

“Soonyoung-ssi said she would be, and she knows Aviva-yah better than anyone, so I guess we’ll just have to trust her on this one,” he thought aloud. “…I’ll make pancakes tomorrow, invite them over.”

“She might not be up to it,” Hoseok thought.

“Then I’ll activate my special delivery service!” Jin said, cheerfully undeterred.

January 5th 2013

Hoseok was somewhat surprised when Aviva agreed to come to breakfast at the dorm, although Soonyoung apologized that she had prior engagements. Hoseok was frankly a little annoyed at Soonyoung for abandoning Aviva after what had happened… but she looked a lot better than he’d expected her to when he met her on the street out front of the dorm.

“Ah.” He tilted his head. “You’re wearing makeup.”

She flashed him a peace sign.

“Just a little. Soonyoungie is just as good at skin care as Jiminie, so my eyes were barely puffy at all this morning! What about you and Joon? Are you hungover that badly?”

“Um, we’re fine. Just took some medicine when we woke up and drank a lot of water. Aviva…”

“…I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“No, that’s not what I…” He sighed. “You don’t owe me anything. But… I want to know, if you’re comfortable telling me.”

“Backyard?” She suggested. He nodded. They walked around the building and she moved past the yard, coming to sit up against a tree behind a bush. It was a secluded area that she couldn’t possibly have known about without scouting it out beforehand. It was a safe place, he realized, and he was touched that she was allowing him inside.

He sat next to her, keeping a little space between them. She picked at the grass, shredding it methodically. His fingers itched, and he mirrored her, with a twist. He plucked wildflowers and started twisting them together into a bracelet, like his older cousin had taught him to do.

He waited a while, and when she didn’t speak, he prompted. “So, last night…”

“I get panic attacks sometimes. They used to be a lot more frequent, but I’ve developed certain coping mechanisms… I was on medication at some point, maybe I need to be again, I don’t know.” She sighed.

“What caused it?” Hoseok wondered.

“Hmmm, abnormal brain chemistry? Me repeating the same bad patterns over and over again? Pure dumb luck? Take your pick.”

“No, I meant, um, last night, specifically.”

“Oh. You mean like, a trigger? There isn’t always one, sometimes they just happen, like if I’m particularly tired or stressed, but… yeah, bright lights, loud noises, and crowds don’t usually aren’t exactly my kind of thing.”

Hoseok frowned. “You’re living in Seoul.”

She shrugged. “Yeah. And I grew up in New York City. I like a busy city, even if it makes my brain freak out sometimes.”

“And you’re the manager of an idol group…”

“Ah.” She grimaced. “Soonyoung was concerned about that at first as well, but… I’m very determined, you know? And I do love music, it’s just I can be extra sensitive to sounds sometimes, so I can wear earplugs or headphones at concerts, I mean, not to block out the sound entirely, but just… lessen the intensity a bit.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you out onto the floor.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t know. I’ve done my best to hide it, actually…”

His brow furrowed. “But Soonyoung-ah knew.”

“I told her I wanted to try,” she said to him. “That’s why she was more forceful than she would usually be. She would never make me do anything against my explicit wishes, she’s Soonyoung.”

He sighed. “Can I… can I learn things like, like how she was helping you last night?”

Her eyes widened. “Hobi, that’s not your responsibility—”

“I want to! I’m supposed to be your hope, remember?” He held out the finished flower bracelet to her.

“Okay.” She laughed, sliding it onto her wrist. It was a perfect fit. “Okay, I’ll send you some links. And I have to talk to Jin-oppa too, thank him. But…” She chewed at her lip. “Can you keep this quiet from the others for now?”

“It’s not my story to tell,” he said. “But you do know secrets are really hard to keep in this group.”

“I know. I should probably tell them, in case it happens again…well, it will happen again, but if it happens in front of any of you, and worse case scenario if it happens while we’re working…”

“If you say you’ve got a handle on it, I trust you,” he said. “But I still want to be there for you, for extra support.” He looked at her. “I really want to hug you right now… is that okay?”

She opened her arms.

In the dorm, she seemed as cheerful as ever as she ate Jin’s pancakes. Hoseok did think the others must have realized something was up, though. Yoongi took one look at her and piled extra bacon on her plate, and then actually got up to make her a cup of coffee just the way she liked it. Namjoon just squeezed her shoulder, noting when she stiffened, and then intercepting Tae zooming over to her for his usual greeting hug by wrapping his arm around the young man’s shoulders and ruffling his hair affectionately. Jungkook tilted his head, studying her from across the table, and then started telling her and Tae that the new issue in a comic they all liked to read was coming out soon.

Jimin sat down on her other side, reaching out to hold her hand. Hoseok caught her eye, silently asking if she needed help, but she shook her head.

“What’s this?” Jimin wanted to know, lifting her hand delicately as he studied the flower bracelet. She smiled.

“Just Hobi being cute.”

“Ah, what else is new?” Jimin shrugged. He studied her. “But you know what would look good with that makeup and that bracelet?”

“…What? You know I don’t do makeovers, Jiminie.”

“I know, I know.” He waved his hand. “Not a whole makeover, just… can I braid your hair, please?” He pouted. Surprisingly, she nodded quickly.

“Jen, Soonyoung and I used to braid each other’s hair,” she said as he squealed and dragged his chair so he could sit behind her.

“Really?” Jungkook said, looking as interested as he always did when Jenny was mentioned.

Slowly, Hoseok saw her relax against Jimin, and even give him a kiss on the cheek when he finished as a thank you.

“You look pretty,” Tae said. She made a disagreeable noise. “Fine, handsome then.”

“Yah! That’s my thing!” Jin protested.

“I can’t be handsome too, oppa?” Aviva pouted at him.

He took her hands in his.

“You can be the second-most-handsome, Aviva-yah. I will train you in my ways.”

“Thank you, teacher!” She bowed and everyone laughed.

Hoseok tried to act like his normal self, teasing Jimin about his red face, and asking Aviva if he could get a kiss too.

She shrugged and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek.

“Ha!” Jimin said. “Now your face is all red, hyung!”

“What?” Hoseok touched his face. “No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

After the pancakes were finished, the kitchen emptied except for Jin and Aviva, who stood side by side at the sink, Jin washing and Aviva drying.

She thanked him for last night, and for the pancakes, and gave him an abbreviated version of the explanation she’d given Hoseok.

Jin listened quietly, the silence stretching after she finished, as if he were making sure that she’d said everything she wanted to.

“Thanks for telling me,” he said, smiling gently at her. “You have given me a great sense of peace at times, please let me know if there’s anything I can ever do to do the same for you.”

“…You already do,” she said honestly. “With your mediation between the group members, your puns, and cooking.”

He suddenly put his dish down and walked over to the freezer. He pulled out a bag of frozen peas. “I’m pea’s keeper?”

Aviva snickered. “Extra points for the English!” She picked up a piece of fruit from the fruit bowl. “I a-peach-iate you.”

He blinked and then burst into laughter.

“I knew I liked you!”

Over the next week, Aviva and the boys had brainstorming sessions with the leaders of the stylists teams in order to formulate their looks for the debut. Namjoon’s makeover was finished first.

He wanted Aviva’s opinion, so she met him in the office hallway near the dressing room.

“Your hair!” Aviva exclaimed, staring at Namjoon’s shaved sides and faux-hawk.

“Um, Eunjung-ssi suggested something dramatic to grab attention,” he said. “Honestly don’t know if this makes me feel like less like myself, or more. Does it at least look okay?”

“Kind of cool, kind of lame?” Aviva said uncertainly. Namjoon frowned.

“So... neutral?”

“No, ah, I think you make it work somehow, because it’s you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cause you’re...” She motioned at him. “I don’t know, you always look good, even when you’re wearing things that don’t suit my personal tastes.” He stared at her. “What?”

“You think I’m good looking?”

“Well, yeah, you all are. That’s kind of why the marketing department wants to capitalize on your image so much.”

“...Right.” He sounded a little disappointed.

“Can I touch it?”

He blinked, and then nodded, leaning down. She rubbed the fuzzy shaved part of his head, smiling a bit.

“So...” He smirked. “You ‘sort of’ like the way it looks, but you definitely like the way it feels, huh?”

She nodded. “It’s a nice texture. I could get addicted to that...” She finally let go of him. He stayed leaning over for a moment, his face close to hers, his eyes searching hers for... what? “Maybe I should shave part of my head? But I’m not sure I could pull it off...”

He chuckled. “I think you’d look cool.” He tucked her hair behind her ears, his fingers continuing down her jawline before his hands came to cup her face.

“Namjoon…?”

He abruptly drew back, straightening up, his face pink.

“Sorry! That was probably too much. I know you don’t like being touched so much, I shouldn’t have—”

“Namjoon,” she said his name again, holding her hand up to stop him. “I don’t mind. I mean, maybe in the past I would have... back when Soon and Jen were the only ones to really touch me... but you guys touch me all the time, and I don’t mind, for some reason. It feels nice, most of the time.”

“So, you don’t mind when Hope and Taehyung-ah hang off of you?” Namjoon wondered.

“Most of the time, no.”

“And when you do mind, you’ll tell them?” He asked. She hesitated. “You have to tell us if we go too far. You’re a young woman surrounded by men most of the time... we should respect you and your boundaries.”

“I appreciate that,” she said. “Although I don’t think gender is that much of a factor for me.” He looked a little confused. “Never mind.” She grimaced. “I’m still figuring all that out.” She took his hand in hers. “Why don’t you show me your new wardrobe, hmm?”

He swallowed and nodded, his face brightening into a dimpled smile as he led the way.

Aviva startled as her phone buzzed. She sat up a bit, wiping drool from the corner of her mouth. It looked like she’d fallen asleep on the couch, reading some article on her computer.

She glanced at the text notification.

Joon: ‘r u up?’

She sighed. ‘Sort of. Why are you?’

‘Can’t sleep. So I recorded another vlog.’

‘Oh, are you addicted to it?’

‘No. People keep saying I’m awkward, so I want to improve.’

‘Aw, your awkwardness is part of your charm.’

‘…Thanks? Um, anyway, I was wondering, if you were up, if you could watch it and lmk if it seems too awkward. But if you’re too tired, just tell me some other time.’

‘I can look,’ she texted. ‘But I’ll probably try and go to sleep after that. And so should you.’

‘No promises, but I’ll do my best.’

‘That’s all I ask.’ She clicked the link he sent and snorted. ‘First note: outfit choice very interesting for a 2 am video.’

‘Interesting good or…?’

‘I think it’s cute, I think Joonho-ssi would be happy with it.”

‘Who?’

‘The leader of the clothing stylist team! Park Joonho-ssi!’

‘Ah, right.’

‘Also, I don’t think you’ve gained weight, and if you have it’s fine. If you’re hungry, you should eat, although, maybe not this late… drink some water or something and ask Jin to make you a nice breakfast in the morning.’

‘Okay, mom.’

‘Shut up, you’re the mom today.’

‘…Sure I am.’

‘Oh, and the little ‘fighting!’ exclamation at the end is really cute. I think it’s a solid vlog. You’re getting the hang of this, Joon.’

‘Thanks for indulging me and watching it this late.’

‘Anything for you. But if you need anything else, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’m going to sleep.’

Aviva was very excited to help film a small music video for a song Namjoon and Yoongi adapted from Kendrick Lamar's Swimming Pools. But when she arrived on set and saw Namjoon’s hairstyle, she paused.

“No.”

“No?” He looked at her, touching the braids coming out of the center of his head.

“Are they supposed to look like dreads?”

He blinked. “Huh, I guess they are. I hadn’t thought about that…”

She let out breath. “Look, I know rap’s really popular right now, and a lot of idols are trying to look like famous rappers, but, this…” She motioned at him. “…Is not cool. You’re not black. You can’t wear your hair like that.”

His brow furrowed. “I hear what you’re saying, and I can tell by the way you’re saying it that it’s important to you, and I trust your judgment, but… I don’t understand. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m not the one needs to be apologized to…” She took another couple of deep breaths. “Imagine if, after years of making fun of the way you dress and look, somebody suddenly decides that it’s cool when they do it.”

He tilted his head, and grimaced. “Ah, okay.”

“It’s… an oversimplification, but, that’s the gist of it.”

“Okay, so let’s talk to the stylist and get her to change it.”

Lee Eunjung, the head of the hairstylist team, had done Namjoon’s hair today. Eunjung was in her late thirties, so Aviva worried she would be set in her ways, but was relieved when Eunjung listened carefully to Aviva’s explanation and grimaced.

“I see what you’re getting at, and I’ll try to do better in the future, but unfortunately, it’s too late for this time.”

Aviva frowned. “…What do you mean it’s too late?”

“This hairstyle’s already been approved by Chief Kyungso,” Eunjung explained. “If I have to submit a new one, it’ll take some time.”

“And we don’t have this space booked for that long,” one of the crewman said behind them. “Today is our only day of filming.”

Namjoon looked at Aviva. “What do you want to do?”

She shook her head. “It’s your hair. You should make the choice.”

“…Let’s film the video,” he decided. “If I look back on it and regret it, that will be on me, but the boys have been working hard for this, I don’t want to take it away from them.”

#bts #fanfiction #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #bts world #idolverse #bts predebut #manager!oc #ot7 #bts x oc #bts fanfiction #hoseok x oc #seokjin x oc #namjoon x oc #my fics #hey you what's your dream

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deathonyourtongue · 3 years

Text

Resurrection | 12

Summary: A ragtag team of Spec-Ops operators are brought out of retirement for all the wrong reasons. When the dust settles, only the best will be left standing. Pairing: Pablo Schreiber x OFC, Henry Cavill x OFC (listen, she gets with the whole team, okay? Don’t lie, you would too.) Word Count: 2K Warnings: Nothing much really. A/N: Sorry this took so long. February really is the worst month.

By the flight manifest, we’re half an hour behind Wallace, and I feel every minute of it on the plane ride from London to Benghazi. Prior to joining the team, I’d only been assigned to Libya once and it was from the comfort of the Whitney parked off the coast of Italy. This will be my first time with boots on the ground, and the history of spec ops in the country isn’t lost to me; it’s just one more reason why I’m glad I no longer have to wear a uniform.

“Ten minutes out,” the pilot calls over the comms, everyone prepping their go bags, ready to make up for any head start Wallace has.

Benina International Airport barely registers in my mind as we pick up two vehicles that were prepped for us courtesy of Uncle Sam, my mind’s sole focus being on saving the hostage and capturing Wallace. All of us want our pound of flesh, none more so than those he’s directly injured over the course of the last few weeks.

“I need everyone on their A game. We can’t afford to let him slip through our fingers again. His behavior is escalating and since he’s so well-connected to the who’s-who, it stands to reason, he’s going to throw everything he has at us. Above all else though, we leave no one behind. Understood?” Rick’s voice is firm but warm over our comms, making it clear that despite the gravity of the situation, he cares about our well-being first and foremost.

“Do you think he’s trying to do a shot-for-shot remake?” Jake asks as we roll into Benghazi proper, grateful for the tinted windows on the late model G wagons no doubt left over from Gaddafi’s rule.

“If you mean do I think he’s going to go to the same village we were patrolling? No. I don’t think he’s that sentimental about things. I think he’s going to pick a spot that’s overlooked by the country and blow it to high hell after he finishes reenacting his sick fantasies. Remember, had we not stopped him that night--”

“I know, he’d have committed war crimes,” Jake cuts Dom off, his sickened expression making it clear that he doesn’t need to be reminded.

“Has intel found him yet?” I ask, hoping we don’t have to waste any more time in tracking him down.

“They don’t have a lock yet, but they are tracking a BMW that came out of Benina half an hour ago. Reports of a blond woman without a hijab and a red-haired man poured in the second they landed.” Rick explains, all of us shaking our head.

“Muslim majority country and she already sticks out like a sore thumb by being blond, but he didn’t bother to make her wear a hijab? If we don’t get to him, the Libyan police will,” I snort, finding little humor in the recklessness with which Wallace treats the lives of others. Like any good narcissist, he cares only for himself and if others get hurt in the process of him getting what he wants, so be it.

“They’re going to attract attention no matter what. All of us are. Keep as low a profile as possible, and with any luck, we’ll be out of here by this time tomorrow,” Rick adds, all of us hoping for the outcome that’s eluded us since we reunited.

Our hideout in Benghazi is simple, yet beautiful. Like most places, it’s heavily fortified, a solid metal gate closing behind us and men standing watch on all four corners as we make our way towards something that resembles a Roman villa of old. Outside, the heat hits me and for a second, I’m brought back to the op that nearly took my life, hoping that this time, things will end differently, at least for our team. Max’s cologne brings me back to the present, and I fall in step with him as we make our way into the blissfully cool war room.

“Oh fuck yeah. Don’t mind if I do!” Jake enthuses as he takes note of the tea and finger foods laid out on the table. Shaking my head, but nonetheless pleased, I take a seat and let out a breath I don’t realize I’ve been holding. Max’s hand smooths over my hair as he sits next to me, his gaze still eyeing my bruise with concern. It’s endearing to say the least, and not the kind of treatment I’m used to in any part of my life.

“Okay, fuel up, but pay attention. Intel has an eye in the sky and they’ve found the BMW. We’re tracking him now. Gonna let him get settled in, then we’ll pay him a house call. He’s also traveling light; only two body men and paid local team which means--”

“Which means a bunch of teenage human shields. Fucking great,” I mutter.

Stephanie Pierce had been dumped half an hour before getting to the airport. Doing her best to save face, she’d made it through security and was intent on getting a little drunk before boarding, if only so she could sleep on the flight. American by birth, she had come to London for school, and had, up until the breakup, been having the time of her life.

Now it's all spiraling into a nightmare.

“Please, just let me get back to the airport! I don’t have anything to do with this! I didn’t do anything! I’m just a student! Please!”

“I can’t do that, darling. For one, you’ve seen my face, and two...Well, you’re my insurance policy. You see, the people that I’m after, they have a soft spot for those they consider innocent. Problem is, no one’s ever truly innocent, are they? No, not even you, dear Stephanie. It only took a few moments for me to do the numbers, so to speak. Young, parents are middle class at best, no real money for school, especially abroad, but here you are in designer clothing, taking vacations whenever it strikes your fancy, and not a dime in debt. Do your parents know what you do on the internet, my darling? Didn’t think so. No, that deep, dark secret won’t be revealed until after you perish, which...will be soon, I’m afraid.”

Her screams make her captor laugh, almost as though he’s delighted by the reaction. It chills her to the bone. Now she understands that this isn’t some wannabe who hijacked a plane and has no real plan; far from it. Whoever he is, he has calculated each and every move leading up to this point.

She wishes she could talk to her mom one last time.

“Night Train to Alpha, confirm visual.”

“Alpha to Night Train we have visual. We count 12 signatures, including the hostage. You are a go.”

We’re no stranger to David and Goliath fights, and 12 is on the smaller side of some of the groups we’ve taken on, but no matter the number, we approach this one with extra precaution, only because of Wallace’s M.O. None of us are looking to be anywhere near another one of his bombs.

The compound he’s made his hideout is run of the mill for this part of the world. Like our own, Wallace’s has high walls, a sturdy gate, and a simple floor plan. It leaves us with two options; come in with a bang, or creep in with a whisper.

“There’s two gates,” I remind the boys, knowing full well that while they all prefer coming in with as much firepower as possible, it opens the door for Wallace to get away in the commotion, and I, for one, want to end this once and for all.

“Alpha, how many signatures on the exterior?” Dom asks, all of us hidden in the shadows, waiting for the deciding factor on how we proceed.

“Looks like 2 on the south side, patrolling the far gate. If you’re going in quiet, now’s the time to move.”

We all nod and immediately get to work. Strapping on my gloves, I grab my wire cutters out of the pocket on my kevlar, and wait until Flip has gotten into position. The tallest of the team, he bends over, providing me with the flat of his back to stand on so that I can cut the razor wire off the top of the wall. Carefully, I peek over the edge, relieved when I find the courtyard empty. Though there are lights on in the compound, every window is covered with an opaque blind, making this way of entering far better suited to our needs.

I cut enough wire away to allow all the boys to climb over, making sure to throw it away from the compound not only for safety, but to reduce the chances of us being heard. Satisfied that everyone has clearance, I pocket my multitool and quickly hop over, landing softly in the dirt.

Rick and Benji are quick to follow, the three of us taking up post so that the rest of the guys can come in safely. It takes less than five minutes for all of us to breach the perimeter, and after a moment to regroup, we move towards our target.

“Alpha, we need your eyes,” Rick whispers, taking point as we position ourselves flush against the nearest wall of the compound. We could clear the place blind, but that increases the chance that someone will sound the alarm as they die, and we can’t take the risk. Though they said they had to wash their hands of it, after Rome, the DOD extended their resources; while they can’t send those currently serving, they can provide a helping hand to those who are willing to risk it all to capture one of our own.

“Two at 3 o’clock, in the first room. There’s two at the back gate you’ll want to handle first.”

Nodding at one another, we split up. Rick and Dom position themselves at the first room, Flip and Benji take up post across the villa in front of another room, while Max, Jake and I edge around to the back of the compound, intent on taking out the two men guarding the rear gate as silently as possible.

With Jake on one side, Max and I move around to the other side, all of us needing to get eyes on the men. As I predicted, they’re young, but I find cold solace when I see that they’re not teenagers, bought out to act as human shields. Checking my gun, I make sure the silencer is on tightly before leveling it into place to look through my scope. At less than 50 feet, it’s an easy shot; it just has to be timed correctly. Max counts us down using only his fingers, and when the time is right, both Jake and I take double-tap shots, killing the men before they have a chance to make a sound.

Over comms, I can hear Rick and Dom breaching their first room, and as we move back towards the center of the villa, Benji and Flip do the same. My relief grows with every room that’s cleared, the body count growing as we approach the spot where Wallace is holed up with the hostage.

“Last room has the prize. Good luck, and godspeed.”

The room in question lies at the heart of the villa. Protected on either side by anti-rooms, We have to work our way through two more sets of men before finally being able to come face-to-face with Wallace once again.

A bright smile is the last thing we expect when we finally level our guns to his head.

“Nice of you all to finally join me. Thought it would take much less time for Uncle Sam to track me down. No matter, you’re here now, we can get to it. In your haste, I’m afraid none of you noticed...” Wallace’s gaze goes to the floor, and as my own eyes follow, I can’t help but feel my heart sink. My eyes dart quickly to Max and Dom, nausea overcoming me as I find that every single one of us has stepped on a trip wire.

“It’s like Russian Roulette, except I’m the one holding the gun.”

Wallace’s laugh will be imprinted in my mind for the rest of my life.

#henry cavill #pablo schreiber #henry cavill x ofc #pablo schreiber x ofc #resurrection #deathonyourtongueoriginals

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artxyra · 4 years

Text

Wake Me When It’s Over

Note: I must really like you guys enough to create a sequel for something that was never supposed to get one. Also, I kind of lost my train of thought as to where this story will end towards the end, sorry about that.

The miraculous magic flies through the streets of Paris, France. Those that were turned into stone now gasping for air and looking around very confused. On a rooftop, a certain model stands naked hoping that no one would see him searching for clothes and a way home. Back at the venue where the dance took place, Alya whoops at the defeat of the Empress of Mean. She holds Nino closes to her before realizing that something had happened to Lila. Her attention immediately goes to her phone messaging the one person that started this all.

No one knew what to say about the latest akuma victim. It was Marinette, the one person they never thought would fall into the hands of Hawkmoth. Was it really due to her jealousy of Lila? When was she akumatized? So many questions ran to through the student’s minds, that faithful night.

It wasn’t until Monday morning when everything came undone.

Throughout the rest of the weekend, the LadyBlog was receiving various comments about the Empress of Mean. Some comments were harsher than others. Alya couldn’t find it in her to make a new blog post regarding the aftermath or of the lack of thereof to her viewers. She wasn’t able to reach Lila at all and neither could rest of her classmates.

Entering the classroom, Alya could see that majority of the class was there expect for Adrien, Lila, and Marinette. She quickly managed to get the class huddled together.

“It isn’t like Marinette to be akumatized, especially about something so trivial as the dance.” Rose pipes up with a pout resting in her lips. “She handles stress better than any of us.” She then adds on causing everyone to turn to her.

“She was jealous, and that’s final,” Alya states, slamming her hands down on the desk in front of her. Everyone could see the twitching in the blogger’s eyes and a slight shaking of her body. Nino wraps his arms around her. “There’s no other explanation.”

“It was rumored that she and Adrien were secretly dating.” It was Nathanial who speaks up next. Soon all eyes were on him.

“You lie…” Everyone suddenly begins to shout.

“No, I’m serious. Marinette hangs out with Marc every now and then and he tells me that they were probably dating. I may an artist, but a broken heart can cause anyone to be akumatized if done correctly.” He continues before pulling out his sketchbook and begins drawing as if he didn’t just pull a fast one on his peers.

The classroom is met with silence aside from the sounds of a pencil against paper.

The classroom’s door opens revealing a frustrated yet silent Adrien Agreste with the one and only Lila Rossi standing behind him. Expecting cheers and concerns, they were meet with the opposite.

“Adrien, did you ever date Marinette?” Juleka asks with her voice dangerously low for all that can hear her. Her response came with an awkward neck rub and wondering eyes from the man in question. Juleka turns to Lila as if she had just woken up from a nightmare. Years of listening and believing the two people in front of her, denying everything her brother has ever said to her. Juleka didn’t know what to do at the moment. Emotions were not her strong suit even after all these years of being around the same people for years.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” Adrien finally speaks up before walking over to his desk and pretend that last weekend did not just happen.

The room grows cold. No one knew how to respond.

“Oh my gosh guys, I’m so sorry for not responding to any of your text. After what Marinette had done to me, I really needed therapy. My mother was able to find someone at the last minute and I had no cell service.” Lila gushes about her latest problem hoping to grab some sympathy. Immediately it was meet by her “loyal” peers, all asking if she’s alright.

Those who weren’t as fooled by the Italian’s response, stood there wondering if she was lying or just pretending. Anyone with text receipts on knew that the girl had read their message and just didn’t respond.

“But you were dating Marinette?” Nathanial speaks setting his pencil down to give Adrien his full attention.

Adrien turns to the artist like a deer caught in the headlights. He could feel Lila’s glare on his back despite not looking at her. “Uh…We were never official. She knew that we were friends.”

“How long?” Juleka’s voice got softer.

“About a couple of months, why?”

With that, breathing became harder for those that knew Marinette well enough to know that the designer practically holds her heart on her sleeves. If Adrien thought they weren’t dating and Marinette did, that changes a whole lot of things.

Before anyone could tear Adrien a new one, Max mentions that class was about to start, and they should get into their seats. Only one seat stood noticeably out to everyone, and they knew she would be in much later.

Mild chatter about Lila’s therapy session broke the silence while everyone else waits nervously as more time past by. Their teacher has yet to enter the classroom nor has the class representative.

When Marinette finally did enter the classroom, everything goes silent. The loyalist of Lila’s group glares at the designer while the others couldn’t find the words to start something with Marinette without fearing the worst-case scenario.

Marinette had just sat in her chair when Mlle. Bustier entered the classroom in a panicking mess. Apparently, after the dance, a lot of parents were chewing out the school officials asking what caused the young designer to attack the school first and for the school not calling the parents. It was later found out that Marinette had no problems with the rest of school just her classmates and the partygoers were just so happened to be affected like everyone else which ends up causing more problems than less.

Caline couldn’t handle all this backlash. The school board officials decided that since Bustier’s class had the most akumatized victims out of all Dupont, Caline’s teaching habits must be reevaluated. They were sending someone in to review her class and teaching methods. All this being planned last minute which means that Caline was struggling to find the proper lesson plans and attitude before the official comes in.

“Today, we will be having a guest staying with us for the week. When this person enters please be on your best behaviors.” Mlle. Bustier stress to the class as she finally pulls out the last of her files from her briefcase.

Everyone, aside from Marinette, wonders who the guest will be. They receive their answer when the door opens once again to show an older-looking woman in a business suit with hair similar to Marinette’s overlooking the class before taking an empty desk in the back. The perfect view to oversee everything. Caline was seconds away from sweating bullets as she struggles to find the right word to begin the class period.

Lila, finding a new problem with this, tries to make Marinette look bad at every attempt she could get. However, all her attempts just made Caline’s teaching habits appear worse than what the school board could imagine. It was only a matter of time for Caline could kiss her job goodbye.

When the class finished, those that had a wake-up call rushed to meet with Marinette. Juleka was unsure how to feel when she saw her brother, Luka, and that fencer that was once an enemy talking to Marinette huddle close together.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to transfer?”

Juleka turns to Nathanial and Rose hoping that she heard wrong. Marinette could not transfer, it just felt so wrong.

“Luka?” The trio turns to the guitarist’s younger sister. They could see the fake smile placed upon Marinette’s face.

“I’m so, so sorry, Marinette.” Juleka followed by Nathanial and Rose immediately apologizes. Marinette stares at them with somewhat blank stares.

A moment past before Marinette whispers, “I forgive you. You’re not at fault here.”

The recently forgiven three runs to embrace Marinette. Tears of joys escape from their eyes.

Only a day later would the class of Mlle. Bustier finds out that their teacher has been suspended and will no longer be teaching the class. Their new teacher was strict and took no bullshit from the class. It was either hard facts or detention for the day.

Lila tried to lie her way out with the new teacher but was constantly shut down the moment she opened her mouth. As her web began to dwindle, she knew that it was only time before her super loyalist realizes the truth of their “best friend”.

It was a hard-felt battle to the end of the school year. Lila had tried everything to maintain her loyalist to her side. She even went so far to bully Marinette out of the classroom only to be defeated by a wave of Marinette protection squad from another classroom.

Alya still blogged about Lila’s so-called adventure with Ladybug, her following begin to dwindle with the announcement of a Ladybug sponsored blog called Miraculous Out. Alya had a hissing fit and tried everything in her power to control the damage.

For Nino, he was feeling the pressure to getting his big break. Lila had promised him so many opportunities and as the school went along realization began to sit. He tried his hardest to shake Alya out of her Lila induced daze as the time went by, but he had no luck. He wanted to apologize to Marinette for everything that he had done, but the fear of being unforgiven hold him back.

When the school year returned everything was different. Caline Bustier was no longer their teacher. Marinette had transferred out of the class and to a new school all together. Everyone that had a wake-up call suddenly felt sick to their stomach from believing in Lila’s lies and seeing the Italian native. Nothing would ever be the same for them, not after all of this.

Specific Tag List: @traveling-with-thedoctor | @nexitye | @blueberrinette | @seraphichana |

#queen of mean au #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug #the empress of mean aftermath #slight class salt #eh I'd tried

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breezethegame · 5 years

Text

Dev Log #1-ish?

Seeing how I missed like two weeks of mini blog posts, I’m deeming this one an actual “Devlog” (fanfare and such yada yada). I'm just going to call it a Dev Log.

So much has gone on the last few weeks that I’m struggling to piece it all together, so here is an attempt:

Computer Adventures:

So, I don’t haven’t built a dev machine from the ground up for years now, (maybe since college?) and typically just upgrade parts as I see fit (graphics card, ram, processor, etc).

Well, my motherboard has been giving me problems for close to a year now, where it occasionally decides “yeah, don’t really care about your boot device today”, as well as other miscellaneous things that required me to do things like removing the CMOS battery or main drive. I was also running out of upgrade options, so I got a bit fed up and decided it might be time to replace it.

I wasn't going to be cost-effective to get another LGA1150 board and CPU, and I try to build computers with future-proofing in mind. I was also looking to get a smaller case too. I already had a nice GPU (GTX 1070) that I got a couple years ago before cryptocurrency “did the thing” and graphics card's prices got ridiculous, so didn’t have to worry about replacing that.

Ultimately, I decided to do a "completely new" build.

I’ve been building computers for friends and family for many years, so I literally woke up the next day and said, “I’m about to build this thing blind”.

Well, kinda learned the hard way of the hassle of going at it that way (along with committing a couple noobish mistakes)...

Shopping Time!

Lesson 1: Double check store inventory before heading to a store that's 20 miles away

Well, I choose the nearest Fry's Electronics (it was Saturday, and I really wanted to get a machine built the same day). I get there and start looking for all of the cases and motherboards (severally disappointed that they only had one Micro ATX board in stock, something I was looking to get for the more compact build, but not as restrictive as a Mini-ITX, which they had several of). Impatient as ever, I decided I was going to pick it up.

While looking at other things, I hear another customer talking to sales rep, and the rep mentions that they don’t have a certain CPU in stock. After listening even more (I’m noisy, sorry), he mentions that they have NO Intel CPUs in stock. I decided that I had to get in on this convo.

He informs up that as of late, their store may receive like, 10 at a time, and also mentions that their other location doesn’t have any either (both of these locations are 20+ miles away from me in Dallas).

I also find out that they don’t have the specific ram I was looking for either (I ended up getting something a little pricier). He ends up informing me that the Micro Center 10 minutes away from where we were should have some CPUs.

So I end up at the Micro Center and they did have the CPUs, as well as a case that caught my attention. They also had a lot of other nice things too! Kind of wished I would have known to go to Micro Center first, despite it being much farther from home.

Building Time!?

Lesson Two: Get a head-start of figuring out your plan for wire management and how pieces will fit in your new case

I got home and was ready to build. I spent a lot of time trying to get the interior wire management together since it’s a much smaller case than my last one. I ended up spending a couple of hours getting it just right (I don’t intend to go back into this machine once it’s complete since I’m nearly maxing it out spec wise for now), before moving out to everything else.

Getting my old water-cooling radiator in was a bit tough (a very tight squeeze), but after that, adding in the ram, etc was a Breeze.

Hours went by, I installed Windows, software, etc…

I go to shut it down (after having done several restarts for the software installs prior), and it doesn’t want to power off. After 10 minutes of waiting, I manually power it off. Whatever, I’m super tired at this point.

The next day (Last Sunday), I’ve encountered several other smaller issues. Updating the BIOS didn’t help either. Great…

Okay, Building Time For Real

Lesson 3: Kinda make sure things boot up and work before you get too early to clean/tighten things down in your build

After taking the whole thing apart, I ended up swapping out that mobo for another of the same kind (since Frys didn’t have any others), but then ended up ordering different board on Amazon. So waited another day or so and the new board arrived (it’s now Tuesday evening).

I rewired/rebuilt the computer once again, installed the software, etc. I spent most of Wednesday day checking in with the team and catching up with emails and such. Then Thursday as I was beginning to do some work, I noticed that the computer was saying that my Windows wasn’t activated. I go to my Microsoft account to retrieve my key, and the page wouldn’t load to provide me the key and would only show the transaction.

Lesson 4: Make sure to keep your activation key(s) somewhere other than online/digital if you can

It’s super late and the option to speak to someone was obviously closed, but they had a chat option, so I reached someone through there. After back and forth for a while, and him remoting into the machine to check the activation status, he tells me that the key might not be showing up because it was an “upgrade”, so I would need to buy another copy of Windows 10 again.

Lesson 5: Tell "Aaron" from Microsoft no over and over, and don't fall for possibly sketchy things like sales pitches that come out of nowhere

I originally bought Windows Home and upgraded it to Pro on the same day back in 2015, so I told him that and he kept insisting that I buy Windows 10 again. I refused and told him that I wouldn’t and that I’d take care of this in the morning, and he then offered that I could pay a smaller fee to reactivate my Windows 10, but it would be a one time fee of like, $40. (I refused again).

When I go to end the remote session, he then informs me that he “Really wants to help me out” and ends up activating it anyway. (This whole thing seemly suspicious, I ended up recording it). I watched him activate Windows for over 10 minutes through some manual process (it's almost 2am, and I had work in the morning). He eventually finishes and thanks/apologies. Not sure why I even had to go through all that, but whatever...

I ended up spending Friday wrapping up installs and doing a fresh system backup afterward, before moving along with pulling down the Breeze project from source control, and reminding myself of where I left off…

Anyway, long story short, I tried to get a system built in a day, and it ends up taking almost a week!

Okay, but did you get any dev done these last two weeks?

Yeah, somehow!

Health Bar and Health System:

First thing the team and I did was evaluate a few things that are critical, but we’ve been bouncing back and forth on: The Health System

(WIP of a concept we're working on for his health bar)

The reason for this is mostly for game balancing purposes:

Is this a game that focuses on having Breeze (the player) overwhelm his opponents with an array of abilities (think Devil May Cry/Bayonetta, Kingdom Hearts, God of War?)

Or is this a game where Breeze must focus on finding openings to deal damage and avoid an onslaught of danger (think Hollow Knight, Ori, Megaman, pretty much most NES/SNES platformers)

Game design… is hard at times. Sometimes you think something will work well in theory, but when you get down into the specifics, you begin to question how certain things will balance out.

You’d think something like designing a health bar isn’t too trivial, until you realize that the Health bar represents the player’s health, and the player’s health influences the character’s survivability, which is then tied to other factors: what options does the player have to “survive” and what threatens that?

Anyway, not going to get too deep into that because I lack the PhD.

Basically, there was a bit of a rift in the UI design process that led to really evaluating game design items, and I’ve been working towards seeing what Breeze’s options are and how to limit them in areas, or how I can build the world and it’s inhabitants in a way that will make this all work out.

It’s not going to be something that will likely be answered quickly, but nevertheless, that’s Game Design™ sometimes...

Frame Data:

[Insert Craig of the Creek frame data meme here]

I used to have a really convoluted way of tackling this in which I would have events in the animation that if given an ID, it will look for a set of “Frame Data” and then look for a specific frame and then load that information up.

It would then pass that frame information into the active hitbox and if something is in it, math and physics and stuff would happen.

I didn’t change this up too much, but I did reduce the setup process by allowing you to just drop the FrameData right into the frame of the animation (no more extra array and ID lookup stuff!)

New Particles:

We’ve got new particles! There’s one for jumping/landing/dashing dust, as well as one for wall sliding.

In the last update, I added a feature that generates “points” at the edges of a character’s collider box (as well as other “checks”), so this helped in making sure that the particles are created in the right place. This was especially challenging with the wall sliding particle.

Also, with the wall sliding particle, I needed to implement a way to have a “looping” particle effect, as well as making sure the particle effect follows Breeze as he’s moving down the wall

Developing Sprite Model Sheets

We've got models sheets completed for just about all of the cast members, though, since there's several artists on the project, as well as animators (including I), I wanted to get some sheets together that would work as a base for animators to use, and to eliminate elements that aren't needed in the sprites (minor details that would be seen in promotional art or more detailed art in general), as well as get a proper size for the characters in-game.

Misc. Features

I’ve done various other quality of life code changes to make it easier to do certain things, like creating new attacks, making the screen pause/slow-mo when Breeze changes forms, and updated my Debugging Manager so that I can hide/show certain debug messages.

I’ve also been working on a RoomManager, and writing features to look handle what happens when the player enters a room (like starting a cutscene, showing UI, spawning things, etc)

I’ve also been looking into updating the game’s Music Handler, mostly for how to handle looping a song after it's intro plays, as well as finding ways to add effects to tracks!

Other Breeze things:

I’ve been working on getting shirts done through Teespring, and I would have loved to show off some of the shirts I ordered, but Teespring shipped them using DHL, and somewhere between DHL and USPS, my shirts have been sitting in shipping limbo for 5-6 days, despite being like a city or two away from me… Maybe tomorrow ~

Also, working on a couple of enamel pin designs! Haven’t figured out the maker yet, but designs are coming along nicely!

Quick Test Build Coming

So, a week or two ago, I planned on releasing a quick build for the Drop Tier backers and above. There was a lot of features and such that I wanted to get done... before my computer stuff happened. Our goal was to have one out before the end up March, so....

I’m going to release one anyway. Maybe tomorrow?

I’ll be creating a post for those in the eligible tiers once I’m done compiling/building it! Please keep in mind that this build will be very minimal and exists to test out controls/physics. I wanted to make a strong first impression, but I'll chill on the whole "striving for perfection" thing for now!

Also, I'm on vacation this week, so I'll be cramming on Breeze stuff this whole week to make up for lost time!

#Breeze in the Clouds #game development #Indiegame #patreon #Breeze #sodo

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realsantana-blog · 5 years

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Confessional #1(3/16/2019): A Complete and Total Lack of Substance

Word Count: 1665(You been warned)

Also Starring: Paul, the poor crew member who drew the short straw of babysitting Santana

Notes: This shit 100% got away from me, guys. I’m sorry.

Short Description: Santana acts stupid in front of a camera for far too long and for very little reason.

Long Description: It was after 5 in the morning and Santana had spent the majority of the night drinking and entertaining the cameras that followed her as she roamed aimlessly around the hotel in San Francisco. Suddenly, she complained loudly that the cameramen were “bugging the sh-t out of her to do a confessional.”

They were not.

Nevertheless, the crew followed her to the vacant tour bus #2 and allowed her entry into the confessional room so she could get mic’d up. One hour and forty-eight minutes later, she passes out on the bus’s floor. The following series of clips showcase some of the things that were said during her first confessional of the tour.

A door is heard opening, followed quickly by a thunk of something falling on the floor. Santana’s voice, possessing a much stronger slur than normal, is the next recognizable sound, “Aw, f-ck. Hey Paul, I mighta broke something. You’re taking the fall for this one, right?”

A few moments later, Santana flops unceremoniously in the seat in front of the camera, cradling a bottle of clear liquid, the label having been blurred out. Almost immediately, she holds up a finger in a “wait” gesture, as if the camera was fixing to up and walk away at any moment. A second later, she belches and drops her hand down to her lap, wearing a look of simultaneous relief and annoyance, “That was sexy.”

The scene cuts to Santana pouring her “nondescript,” clear liquid out into a metal, isolated water bottle. Subtitles at the bottom of the screen as someone off-screen mumbles quietly, “What are you doing?”

“I’m making you’re jobs easier. If I drink outta this thing, ya don’t gotta blur the bottle out, in post,” Santana snarks, as if it was the most obvious thing. Her arms keep increasing the distance the bottles were from another, until she’s pouring the alcohol from a foot and a half above it’s destination.

“Okay,” the subtitles quip back, “But what if they use this clip for the episode?”

Santana pauses for several seconds, staring at the source of the voice, as if she had yet to consider this as a possibility, before settling herself with an irritated look, “Why would they use this? I’m not doing anything.” She follows this by going right back to pouring, then tossing the original bottle her over her shoulder as soon as she’s finished.

Another cut, and Santana, looking like she is finally “ready,” begins speaking to the camera, “I’d say the tour so far is going just f-cking swimmingly.” It’s not incredibly clear whether she says this with sarcasm. “Our new single Stay is rocketing up the charts, I gave birth to a cheesy boy band who’s lead singer appears to have been sneaking the other two members’ supply of hair gel, and I have at least a basic tolerance for pretty much everyone I was put on a bus with.”

She seems satisfied with this answer, until she scrunches her eyebrows, as if trying to remember something, before a sudden clarity washes over her, “Oh yeah, and I reunited with my sister. That’s fun!”

This time, her sarcasm is very apparent.

After a cut, Santana appears slightly more disheveled and finishes taking a drink from her “canteen.” She’s mumbling to herself, “work work work work work, yuh see me do me dur dur dur,” when she aggressively turns her attention to the camera. “That song has lyrics, by the way, IN-TER-NET,” she blurts in an offended tone, sounding out each syllable for emphasis. “I know that may be surprising to you well-cultured wastes of space, out there, that I am NOT just speaking gibberish in that song, but in fact am speaking in a Caribbean dialect. Ya know like Bob Marley do an’ sh-t.”

Having said her piece, she sits back in her seat with an eye-roll, looking casual once more.

“Whoever did the interior design for this room screwed your asses, by the way.”

“I feel like me and Emelia just have a very unique dynamic, as far as sisters go. It’s like... We’re two very different people, but like... Deep down. Like, very, very, deep down, we love each other.” Santana looks confident in her words, but has her business face on, as opposed to her standard states of amusement and/or annoyance.

“Very deep down,” she reiterates, with an assured nod.

About to take another drink, Santana grimaces and turns her opened bottle upside down, obviously expecting it to be empty, and lets a shot of clear liquid spill out to the floor. She stares blankly at the disposed contents for several moments, blinking as if in disbelief, “...Whoops.”

The Latina wears a bored expression, looking for something to say, when she once more pipes up, “Hey, you guys want the real scoop, though?” Her usual cat-like grin is in place as she speaks, “Max and Alex are totally f-ckin. Mhm. Watch ‘em closely. I assume Lia’s cool with it because if he hurts her I will ends him.” The last part is stilted, as if she realized what she was saying as she spoke.

“Paul, can you get me a drink? I’m dry as f-ck over here.” Santana is looking off-screen, wearing too sweet a smile for her face, until she snickers and aims a proud look at the camera, “Ha! In more ways than one, amirite?”

Her laughter dies down quickly, with her casting her gaze at the ground and sighing, “Ahh... That’s really depressing.”

“Really don’t get what’s going on with my sister. Like... I try getting her to have fun and I’m a bully. I leave her alone and I don’t care. I’m starting to think that it’s not anything I can do. It’s just me.” Since last bringing up her sister, her demeanor has changed. She’s swinging her arms around, as if trying to make sense of it all. As she continues venting, her voice steadily raises in volume. “Yeah... That’s it. Like, my very existence offends her! Like, the f-ck is up with dat sh-t?” She stops, as if she thinks she’s gonna get an answer of from the camera.

“Paul, go get me a drink!” Divine Destiny’s lead is now far more demanding as she makes her “request” to the man off to the side, out of range of the camera. “Paul! Paul, I know you hear me, you’re headphone lights are off. Get off your damn phone. Losing my buzz over here.” When she still gets no response, she leans back and crosses her arms, “You can’t have that many bitches texting you. You look like your forehead ate most of your hair. Do you WANT me to have to smoke weed on camera in order to continue this damn confessional you’re making me do.”

The subtitles make a triumphant return when Paul breaks his silence(again, off-screen), “I’m not getting you a drink.”

Santana slumps and groans.

“I mean, if either of us is being a bitch here, it’s CLEARLY Emelia, right? Like, I don’t wanna date her boyfriend. He’s too tall. Like, 6′8″ when you factor in the hair.” The air in the room now has a distinct thickness surrounding Santana, and her voice is the slightest bit huskier. “And I wasn’t ‘tainting’ her precious song. The song is about sex, so I was being sexy. I really don’t see how keeping in the spirit of the song’s theme is at all tainting it. It’s totally fine for her and Max to sing ‘Work’ without even having the foggiest idea what the words are, because I understand how to have fun and I had assumed that they meant it to be funny. But nope. If you ask my sister, they were ‘challenging’ me and by answering back, I was ‘challenging’ them harder.” Becoming increasingly incoherent and resorting to air quotes more and more as she speaks, Santana suddenly stops when she appears to lose her train of thought. “Whatever.”

Cutting to another clip, the seat that was once occupied is no longer, but it’s quickly filled again when Santana flings herself into it, carrying another glass bottle of some kind, raising it in victory, “Aha! You proud of me, Paul?” She cuts herself off to take a drink, her metal container apparently forgotten, “I got it myself because you’re too lazy to be useful.”

Her attention is diverted quickly, and she leans over in Paul’s direction, “Are those your chips, Paul? Paul, are those your chips? Paul. Paul. Paul. PAUL! I know you hear me, Fivehead! Paul! Feed me!” She slumps over the arm of the chair, groaning loudly, as if in physical pain, “PAUUULLLLL! I’m DYING!”

Clutching her now empty second bottle, Santana sobs violently, her make-up utterly ruined, “I just don’t understand why she hates me so much! I get that used to be a real bitch and I get that I made her feel like I didn’t care about her, but she just doesn’t get it! I know I made her think that she wasn’t good enough or that she was in my shadow, but when I normally do that with people, it’s because they really suck, and when I did that with Emmy, it was because I wanted her to be better! I just wanted her to grow a backbone and not let people like me walk all over her, anymore. Why can’t she see that I was a bitch to her because I love her! I made her feel horrible so that she would never wanna feel that way again!” With her rant over, she drops the offending bottle and covers her face, her voice softer but still muffled by tears, “And I really regret it. I’m so sorry, Emmy...”

Santana stands abruptly and storms toward the door as the camera fades out.

When the camera fades back in, Santana, once again in the hot seat, chewing loudly on something crunchy and staring intently at the camera. She lifts the yellow plastic bag in her hand and turns her head to peer inside. Even though the label has been blurred out, when she takes a potato chip from it and eats it, it becomes fairly easy to discern their brand, even with the packaging obscured.

Going back to glaring at the camera with an incredibly intense look, and a touch of dried mascara staining her cheeks, Santana swallows and asks very seriously, “You enjoying this, ‘Merica? Dis what you want?” She punctuates her interrogation with another bite of her snack.

“Y’all some sick f-ckers, ya know that,” she snarls. And with that, she leans back until the chair she’s sitting in tips over completely.

#cordellaconfessional #selfpara #para #//extra as all hell i know

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archivednerdfics · 6 years

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Here’s a set of some drabbles I did all centered around Steve taking care of (or sometimes being taken care of by) the kids. (There are also more Steve and the Kids drabbles on the last set I posted). Each was inspired by a prompt that was sent to me based off of a bunch of prompt lists I reblogged on my main blog @lizzysong (prompt submissions are still open over on my main if you want to send some, too). I hope you enjoy these!

________________________________________

Prompt: “Your room looks like it was decorated by a perverted jockey.” Max and Steve lmao.

Max had shown up at his front door with her skateboard held in one hand, and tears streaming down her face. She hadn’t called to tell Steve she was coming; the fight she’d had with Billy was bad and she didn’t want to stay in the house any longer – especially to call Steve and potentially put him in danger. So she’d grabbed her skateboard and showed up on the doorstep of the teenager who treated her the way a brother actually should.

“Max?” said Steve when he opened the door. He took in the girl’s appearance and realized that she must’ve had another fight with her so-called brother, “What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said, looking down at the ground, and then slowly up at him, “…Can I come in?”

“Yeah; ‘course you can,” the older of the two said as he moved aside so that Max could enter the house.

She had never actually been in his house before; he usually babysat her and the rest of the party at the Byers’ house or the cabin that El and Hopper lived in; and as she looked around she realized just how well-off the teenager was. She’d known he wasn’t as poor as she was, of course, but she hadn’t realized that he was rich, either.

She left her skateboard by the door and started wandering around the house. Steve didn’t mind – it was actually kinda nice to have someone else in the large, usually empty house.

A loud laugh came from upstairs followed by an, “Oh my god!”

Steve rolled his eyes and made his way up to where he knew Max must’ve found his bedroom. Standing in the doorway he saw Max standing in the middle of the room, looking around at everything from the posters on the wall to the trophies on the bookcase. She noticed Steve standing in the doorway and gave him amused look of disbelief.

“Your room looks like it was decorated by a perverted jocky,” she said with another laugh.

Steve rolled his eyes again and gave her a small smile, “Thanks; it took a lot of time to get it to look like this. I had to consult, like, three different weird-ass jockeys.”

Max smirked. She always found something to make fun of her new-found brother for, and he always tolerated it – sometimes even playing along when he knew she was having a particularly rough day.

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Prompt: “I’m DYING.” Dustin x Steve! :)

“I’m dying,” Steve groaned from where he was lying on the sofa in his living room. He’d called Dustin that morning to tell him that he wouldn’t be able to pick him up from school like he normally did on Wednesdays and despite the older teen’s protests, Dustin insisted on coming over after school to check up on Steve.

“I don’t think you’re dying,” the boy said as he observed his admittedly miserable looking friend, “–You do look like crap, though.”

“No, I think I’m really dying this time,” Steve said and Dustin smirked. The younger boy couldn’t help but appreciate the irony of Steve being such a baby when he had the flu considering that this was the same guy who lead the party through the tunnels of the upside down immediately after having the shit beat out of him.

“Okay, fine,” Dustin said with amusement, “you’re dying. Can I have the bat when you die?”

“No, Max gets the bat.”

“What!? Why!?”

“Because she actually knows how to use it.” Steve gave the kid a pointed look and Dustin rolled his eyes.

“Fine. What about the car?” “No way! –You can have my collection of hairspray.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re the only one I know who’ll use it right.”

This earned a smile from the younger boy, “Thanks, Steve.”

“You’re welcome, shithead,” Steve said, returning the smile and then coughing into the tissue he had crumpled in his hand.

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Prompt: Could I suggest “ Do you realize how crazy that was? You could’ve get yourself hurt! “ for Steve and the party/any party member please?

They were back in Steve’s car, Dustin sitting in the passenger seat and Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, and El squeezed together in the back.

No one said a word as Steve drove away from the abandoned building and got onto the main road. They stayed this way for a good ten minutes before Dustin looked next to him where Steve was sitting and spoke hesitantly, “Steve…”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Steve said, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“But Steve,” Max started, but was quickly cut off by the older teen.

“What did I just say?”

“…Sorry,” Will said quietly, “We shouldn’t’ve called you…”

“…You think I’m mad ‘cause you asked for my help?”

“Well yeah,” said Mike, “Why else?”

“‘Why else’?” Steve asked, “Because you should’ve called me before you put yourselves in the middle of that shit!”

“We thought we could handle it,” Lucas said.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Steve, “You should’ve called me first. Do you shitheads realize how crazy that was? You could’ve gotten yourselves really hurt! Or…” he trailed off, voice breaking slightly. He didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened to the kids if he hadn’t been there.

The kids all looked down when they heard that; they hadn’t realized just how much their designated babysitter cared for them, and they suddenly understood exactly how they must’ve made him feel.

“…Sorry, Steve,” Dustin said quietly, putting a hand on the older teen’s shoulder.

Steve smiled slightly, still clearly upset, but relived, too. “Just don’t do that shit to me again. If you’re gonna get yourselves in trouble, at least call me first. Got it, dipshits?”

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Prompt: “I’d die for you.” Steve & the kids

The kids were gathered around him as he slowly woke up, realizing he was in a bed instead of the Byers’ couch. He was confused for a moment, then vaguely remembered Mrs. Byers insisting he rest in her bed for the night. And after Billy and the tunnels, it was a welcome comfort.

“Guys, he’s waking up,” Steve heard someone whisper – he was pretty sure it was Mike.

“Steve?” Dustin said, hovering over the older teenager with worry, “How’re you feeling?”

Steve opened his eyes slowly to reveal four faces peering down at him; the four kids he’d protected last night. “Hmm…” he groaned quietly and he carefully pushed himself up against the headboard.

“How do you feel?” Dustin asked again, more worry in his voice now that Steve hadn’t responded to the question the first time.

“…Been better…” the teen mumbled, ruffling the younger boy’s curly hair.

“Sorry, man…” Lucas said, looking down and not making eye contact with the older boy, “If I–”

“–Don’t you dare,” Steve said, sounding more coherent than before, “It wasn’t your fault. –Or yours,” he added, looking at Max.

“We put you in the middle of everything, though,” Max said, “We put you in a bad place, and we–”

“–I chose to take care of you. You didn’t make me do anything.” Well… that wasn’t entirely true, they did force him to go with them to the tunnels even though he’d told them no. But at this point that was neither here nor there.

“…Thanks, Steve,” Mike said suddenly, “…For everything.”

This genuinely surprised the babysitter, having thought that Mike hated him, and he smiled at the boy. “I’d do anything for you dipshits, you know that. …I’d die for you guys.”

This earned small, if concerned, smiles from the kids. They did know that Steve would die to protect them, and that was what they were afraid of.

________________________________________

Prompt: “HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” Steve x anyone of your choice (I loveee steve whump. hehehehehe. )

He’d fallen asleep in the couch while the boys were still watching a movie.

He’d picked up Dustin from school, like he always did on Wednesdays, and ended up picking up Will, Lucas and Mike as well – Lucas and Mike complaining that El and Max wanted “girl time”. Mike and Max still weren’t very close, but El had quickly come to like having another girl in the party, and if she was completely honest, Max liked it too.

It was Will who suggested they sleep over at Steve’s place, and the oldest teen agreed.

“Sure, why not. Just call your parents first; the last thing I need is a bunch of angry moms at my door – especially yours,” he added, looking at Will, who smiled.

“Okay, Steve.”

It was around one in the morning and the kids were on their third movie with no sign of getting tired, but Steve was exhausted, and though he tried to stay awake, he quickly lost the fight against his dropping eyelids and was sprawled out on the sofa.

He slept soundly for what was probably an hour before the nightmares started. At first he just whimpered a little, but it quickly escalated to yelling.

“No… No… Please…! Help…! Somebody help me! Please! Help me!”

This outburst frightened the boys out of their dozing state and they were at the teenager’s side in a second.

“Shit!” Mike said, “Steve, what’s wrong?!”

“It’s a nightmare,” Will said while Dustin and Lucas tried to shake Steve awake.

“Steve! You gotta wake up!” Lucas shouted, and to all four kids’ relief, Steve jolted awake, sitting up and breathing hard.

“It’s okay,” Dustin said gently, trying to hide the fact that he was scared, “It was just a nightmare. You’re okay.”

Steve roughy wiped the tears – when had he started crying? – from his cheeks and looked at the boys.

“Are you okay?” Mike asked and Steve nodded slowly.

“…Y–yeah… fine,” the older boy said, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking a little, “…Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Will with a small, reassuring smile, “I get them, too.”

“Jesus,” Steve said, looking at Will, “I’m sorry, kid.”

Will just smiled a little wider and hugged the older teenager, the other three boys quickly following suit; and Steve suddenly understood why the kids were so resistant to sleep, because they understood what he was feeling all too well – and if Mike wasn’t making fun of him or making any snide comments, that definitely meant he knew what Steve was feeling. It made Steve angry to think that these innocent kids had the same problem, and he wished he could have all their nightmares for them.

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bfreelancing · 3 years

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Something new, something borrowed, something...failed?

Hello World,

I can't take it anymore.

I just can't.

I have to tell someone all these stories, or I'm positively going to BURST.

So, this is me, starting a blog that no one will read. A blog basically for myself to chronicle my adventures as a freelance marketer; a blog that I can pretend people are reading so they can share in the hilarity of my adventures.

And I'm doing this anonymously - or as anonymously as one can be on the internet. I'm not going to share client names or locations or anything like that. If I use people's names, they will be changed. BUT, these stories can be crazy and specific so if it sounds like you, then it most likely is. Sorry. (Not really).

My life got a little off track at the beginning of 2021. No, not because of COVID (though that did add to the whole ordeal). I had a personal matter take over my life. I couldn't search for new clients. In fact, I barely managed to hang on to my old clients.

But that ordeal is now over. And I find myself with more time on my hands. And not nearly enough money to pay off all my debt (we're talking student loans AND credit card debt incurred during COVID trying to keep my family afloat - oh, and not to mention the taxes I owe the government for 2020).

I have once again started the *interesting* journey of reaching out to companies in the hopes of gaining new freelance clients.

What do I do, exactly? Marketing. But really anything a company needs. I once helped a company get a new phone system. I work completely remotely (I've done so for several years before COVID made it the cool thing to do) and never visited their building which was several states away. Did I know anything about phone systems before that? Nope. But I do now.

I try to stick to marketing, though: website design and development, social media management, graphic design, photography, videography, blogging, etc...if companies give me a chance, that is.

I've done this for seven years now. SEVEN. I can't believe it's been that long. Where does the time go? Have y'all seen the movie The Last Holiday with Queen Latifah? There's a line in that which has stuck with me over the years. I can't find the exact quote online (come on, Google, you're letting me down), but it's something like this: You put your head down, and you work, and you work, and you work, until one day you look up and think, how did I get here?

God, if that's not the truth. They told me growing up in school that I could be anything I wanted to be - that I would have the world at my feet, so long as I worked hard.

That was a lie.

I've worked hard. Harder than I ever thought I would have to. And I only have experience to show for it. Experience that still isn't enough. I'll never understand that.

How did I get where I am? In college, I had a family emergency. After I graduated, I moved back home to help my family. I was stunned to discover that my Bachelor of Science in ecological sciences provided me ZERO job opportunities at home. And I mean ZERO. I live in the country, but the city is only an hour away.

I'm in the Midwest. So, it's not like the city is HUGE like New York, but if I told you the city, you would 100% know it. Still, there were no opportunities.

I decided to go a different direction. Yep, you guessed it, MARKETING. Why? Because life threw me two more curve balls when I was in college, and instead of having multiple ecological internships, I had a few of those, but also a few marketing internships. Maybe one day I'll tell you about those.

But for now, you get the gist: I had two years of actual, real world marketing experience. I started applying to local marketing jobs. No one would hire me. When I was able to get feedback - which was few and far between - I was told that while my portfolio from my internships was impressive, the companies didn't like me because I didn't have a degree in marketing. Sure, I had a 4.0 GPA in all my science classes, and I graduated an entire year early. I was an officer in five clubs, a regular member in two others, worked five jobs, and took 21 hours of classes each semester. That wasn't enough. College told me I was well-rounded, but the real world could have cared less.

Thankfully, that didn't matter to the people from my internships. Several businesses I met from there begged me to help with their marketing. I started freelancing while searching for a full time gig elsewhere. Freelancing provided me a little money, but not enough.

I listened to all those people that told me they weren't happy with my degree, and I returned to college to get a master's degree in marketing. I completed it in a year.

With that under my belt, I started applying to places for a full time job - still freelancing on the side. I was barely making any money. But I was getting lots of experience. I can never thank my first clients enough. They would come to me and say things like, "Do you know how to use WordPress?" I would truthfully tell them no, but for a discounted rate I would figure it out for them. They took me up on the offer, and I learned invaluable lessons that way.

But it still wasn't enough. No one would hire me. Why? No idea. No one likes to give feedback these days. I guess too many applicants and not enough real people to respond to them.

So, I turned back to my freelancing and focused heavily on it. But then someone close to me suggested we start a business together. I thought maybe that was my chance, and jumped at it. I did that for three years before throwing in the towel. It took up too much time and the return just wasn't enough. But that same person offered me a job with their other company, and I took it.

Here's the deal about that, though: I went into the office every day. But I didn't work all day. I worked when projects came in and kept track of my time. When there weren't projects, I was allowed to freelance from my desk.

Those projects weren't enough to get me where I wanted to go. This was pre-COVID. This was a world where people didn't want to work remotely with other people. I received a few clients from referrals (thank you, sweet people!), but again, not enough.

When I say enough, I mean enough to pay off all my debt and get a house. That's all I've ever wanted in life: my very own house. That's my goal.

I'm not even close to attaining it at this point.

So, I start reaching out for full time jobs again. This time, I try to see if there are remote jobs available. I find one on the west coast. It seems like a dream, and the salary is great.

It was a complete nightmare. I'll tell you about that sometime too, but not today.

COVID hits, and they tell me my job is secure. They tell me they are going to give me a raise, after a job review. I go in for my job review and come out WITHOUT a job. Don't worry, I promise I'll tell you about that in another post.

What do I do? Go back to my tried and true freelancing. In a post-COVID world, EVERYONE wants to work with you remotely. It's amazing. I get new clients. I think I'm making progress.

Then my life is shattered due to a personal matter. Then tax season hits, and I realize that while I thought I was suffering during COVID with my freelancing, I actually made more money than ever. But didn't make my quarterly tax payments. The government wants an arm and a leg in exchange - literally.

I work out a payment plan with them, and I find that I'm completely broke. Barely able to make those payments, barely able to keep my credit cards UNDER the limit.

My personal matter slowly calms down. And I have a horrible realization: I've been doing this for SEVEN years, and I've gone absolutely nowhere. NOWHERE.

I don't judge my progress based on others. But, I thought by now I would have a house. I don't. I haven't paid off any student debt. My credit cards are now all pretty much maxed out thanks to COVID.

It's time to get my butt in gear, put my nose to the grindstone, and start reaching out to companies again to see if they need a freelancer's help.

Which brings me to my first official freelancer story, which I am sure you all will get a kick out of, if you read this far. Which I doubt you have. If you have, I'll love you forever. Feel free to message me, and I will legitimately tell you I love you. No joke.

So, to set the scene, it's a hot, humid Sunday. I'm inside. My air conditioner is broken, so I'm huddled next to a portable unit I purchased because I'm told that it will be a MONTH before my central air is fixed. I'm not moving a lot, trying to keep cool. The TV is on with old movies I've seen a thousand times playing in the background: old, familiar friends that make me happy, cheering me on while I search job boards for freelancing positions.

I find one for a web designer. It sounds dreamy. A company is looking for someone with a little bit of HTML experience, that they can train to use their brand new web design platform. I would be making templates for them, and their price per hour is exactly what I charge. I'm excited at the thought of learning something new, and I'm excited to find a company that's willing to teach me!

I immediately apply. I receive an automated response back that they want me to take a personality test, which I promptly do.

The questions are simple ones, that I know will reflect my hard-working nature. One question asks: You've had an event planned in your personal life for several weeks. When it comes time to leave work early for the event, your boss says that there's an emergency project they need your help on. What do you do? Do you...A) Stay on after you expected to leave then go to the event later....B) Go to the event....C) Ask a team member to do the project for you...and some other option I can't remember.

I choose A. That's the person I am (except for that nightmare job I mentioned awhile back, but that's REALLY for another post, so I need to stop mentioning it).

Another question asks: Your plate is full, and your time is completely booked, but a team member comes up to you, asking for help on their project. Do you...A) Put aside your work to help your team member...B) Tell your team member you're busy and to go ask someone else...and two other options I don't remember that are basically B, just repeated in different wording.

I choose A. Again, that's who I am. If I'm crazy busy and you come to me for help, I might be a bit cranky and stressed, but I'm going to set aside what I'm doing to help you. I'm not going to kick you to the curb.

But that's not what this company wants, apparently.

Why?

I submit the personality test, and it says that I FAILED it. Yes, it tells me that I FAILED the personality test. I'm still laughing about it. I guess companies want people that don't care about their coworkers and don't want to work? If so, that's definitely not me.

But how do you even fail a personality test? Who even knew that you COULD fail a personality test? Not me. Though I do know now.

What made it funnier? About an hour after being told I failed the test (which, by the way, was the WORST I have ever done on a test, so there ya go), I received a notification that said I was moving onto the next step in the application process. I just had to answer *one* more question: why am I a good fit for this job?

The answer I wanted to give? Because I want it. The answer I actually gave? A real one, full of bull to make everyone feel better about themselves.

Will I get this position? Probably not once a human gets involved and sees I failed. I think right now I'm just in their automated process.

Still funny though. I'm the girl that failed the personality test. I feel like I need to go make a t-shirt about that now.

That's all for now folks, thanks for sticking with me through this long read. Can't wait to see you back for more!

-B

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jimmyandthepulsatingmass · 6 years

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Developer Retrospective: The Heart Pumps Clay

Here’s something I said I was going to write a million years ago, but it was way easier to post screenshots, so I did that instead. Anyway, a while back I was going through my earlier games and discussing them--mostly with regard to what I learned about development in RPG Maker and development in general. This is the last one of these I’m going to do. I do have another game called Born Under the Rain, but I’m not going to talk about that one since I was part of a team and spent most of my work on the music and writing for it, so I didn’t really work on the design aspects outside of some general ideas I was pushing like an emphasis on exploration. It’s pretty good, though, so check it out if you want.

What is the Heart Pumps Clay?

Anyway, The Heart Pumps Clay was a game I made in a month for the first year of the IGMC. It was the first time I tried to take on every component of the development process, and while I don’t think it was a total success, there’s a lot there that I still think was neat, at least conceptually. If you can get past the garish pixel art, awful title, and like difficult, battle-focused RPGs that are fairly short, then you should check it out before reading this, as there will be spoilers. Don’t be afraid to play it on easy; it’s balanced to be pretty difficult on hard. So, let’s talk about what I learned.

Gameplay is an extension of narrative. Well, it can be. A lot of RPG Maker developers don’t really think about this. Actually, I should expand this a bit and say that every part of a game is an extension of the narrative. If you’re primarily making a game for consumption rather than just for artistic merit (and I think you can achieve both of these things), then the goal is to balance fun with the narrative aspects of your gameplay. In Final Fantasy 7, for instance, the materia system serves as both a fun means of stat progression/character customization and as a clear link to the lore of the world. In The Heart Pumps Clay, character skill sets were developed both as a function of gameplay and as a means of characterization. Bud, for instance, is a mud golem that the main character, Mara, made to be a friend when she was an isolated child. Bud’s skills are designed around protecting Mara; he can draw enemy attacks, for instance, and temporarily lower his max HP in order to revive fallen party members. Mara, being a witch, has several attack spells; she can also shift which element she has mastery over, which changes Bud’s form. For instance, when she has mastery over ice, Bud becomes an ice golem, which increases his defense, and when she switches to fire, he becomes a more powerful fire golem. This shows the player the link between the two characters from the outset.

Other than characterization, another major goal was to actually make the gameplay into an integral part of the narrative. The main premise of the gameplay is that, after every fight, Bud loses a bit of the mud composing his body. This mud is represented by his max HP. I littered the game with treasure chests, which exploits player psychology into giving them a false choice. That choice is: “Do I try to fight as few battles as possible in order to keep Bud’s max HP high, or do I take what’s in the box?!” I say it’s a false choice because the player always takes what’s in the box--and they should! The game is actually easier by doing that, as the treasures are generally excellent (though I would have liked to make some of the earlier treasures more viable in retrospect).

The game flips the script on you by having a change in Bud and Mara’s roles over the course of the game. While Bud initially is a damage sponge that protects the rest of the party, when his max HP starts to dwindle, Mara actually gains some tools to become the party’s new tank. The player has to be savvy enough to realize this, but I think that, if they do, there’s something special that happens there with players actively creating the narrative. The writing backs this up as well, as the plot is focused on Mara gradually building on her appreciation and love for her only real friend over the course of the game.

Man. That was a lot over just one thing.

Craft your battles from your party outward. I think a lot of amateur RPGs are guilty of being a mishmash of ideas, e.g. “What if the characters have to fight a FIRE-BREATHING DRAGON?! What if one of the characters can turn into a demon?! What if you can find a sword that can talk, and maybe it says one-liners after every fight!” So, ideas are great, imagination is great. But, you have to temper them into a cohesive experience. I found that the best way to design battles is to start with your player skill set. This allows you to begin from a place of characterization. Then, make every game challenge built around the player’s skill set. If you have a player that can stun, for instance, make an enemy that winds up a powerful attack that you can interrupt. Have an enemy that must be slowed down in order to interrupt. Have a more challenging monster able to prevent stuns for several turns. Let your ideas for battles germinate from the tools you give your players.

Make your games fun. I mean, duh, right? Unless your primary goal is to make an art game, then you shouldn’t sacrifice fun for artistic integrity. I’m not saying that you should throw artistic integrity out the window, but you should get smarter with your art so that it’s still enjoyable, assuming your primary goal is to make a fun game. This is something that I could have done a lot better with The Heart Pumps Clay. Shifting elements, for instance, takes a turn, which ends up drawing out the combat. It was a smart idea to pair Bud and Mara together, but instead of taking a full turn, why didn’t I just make different attack spells automatically shift Bud’s element? That would have accomplished the same thing narratively, and it would have made the gameplay a lot smoother.

Play with tried and true gameplay formulas, but don’t eschew them without reason. There’s a reason why the basic formula for RPGs has lasted for so long. Every component of it works together. Since I was dealing with a necessarily short game (it had to be around an hour for the contest), I decided to cut down exploration a lot. Essentially, the game was linear with several optional battles, but the maps were small enough that you could see them without fighting those battles. Lacking exploration really hurt the game, I feel, as exploration is an important part of the RPG gameplay cycle. Without exploration, the player loses a sense of discovery, and the battles become too close to each other. While I’m one of those weirdo creeps who likes RPG combat, even I like the gameplay loop of exploration, battle, stat progression. Removing a part of that can create a sense of monotony.

Don’t take it personally. This one’s super hard. We tie up a lot of our sense of self-worth in our games, which makes sense, as it takes a hell of a lot of time to put one of these together. When someone--or several people--tells you that your game sucks and was a frustrating waste of time (and they will, even if your game is awesome), then you need to take it in stride, learn from the experience, and build better games in the future. When I first made The Heart Pumps Clay, I felt that it was my smartest, best put together game (so far), and I was really, really proud of it. While some people got what I was going for and liked it, the overall reception was lukewarm at best, and I was pretty depressed about it for a month or three. But, I used that time to get a little better at art and make plans for taking another game I was working on and converting it into a full-length RPG that’s as fucking awesome as it possibly can be...to be released this summer.

Anyway, I’m calling it! I’m done with these little (overly wordy) retrospectives! It was cool to think back about this stuff; sorry again for taking so long to get to this one. No update next week since it’s the end of the month and I’ve been habitually not updating then, but also because I’ll be visiting my dad for his birthday. Also, since my dad reads these posts religiously despite never having played a video game in his life, I’ll take this time to say that that makes you a really good dad, I love you, and I’m looking forward to seeing you next week.

#not Jimmy #The Heart Pumps Clay #rpg #rpg maker #game design

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unmaskedagain · 5 years

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Worse than the Devil

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Hey Everyone, I got really inspired by the amazing response to my first fic Queen Of Mean. I decided to write a follow up. Its to Selena Gomez’s version of Cruella De Vil. I loved it when it first came out and it sent shivers when I realized it was perfect for my follow up.

Looking back the missing pigtails in the bluenette’s hair when she walked into class Monday morning, dressed like she just got off the runaway, flanked by Chloe at her side, should’ve been the first warning sign.

But in the class’s defense, it had been a crazy weekend. The fireworks that came with Ladybug’s video, Alya’s meltdown, and Lila being outted as a liar didn’t die down after class ended that day. No. The weekend had been filled out a never-ending stream of group texts, complaining of hurt feelings, nasty little liars, and why, or why wasn’t Marinette replying to their texts? Answering her phone? Didn’t she know they were sorry? Didn’t she know they needed their everyday Ladybug now more than ever? Alya in particular.

Alya, who had spent the entire weekend, nearly 24/7, trying to save her blog; defend her life’s work against the avalanche of criticism that had come it’s way; even the most loyal fans screamed of betrayal. She had released a dozen video explaining what happened and begging her viewers to understand that people make mistakes. Calling Marinette with no answer, texting her best friend for help only to get no reply. Texting Marinette that Lila was a dirty, rotten, liar in over a hundred different way, in over a hundred different texts; only to never get a reply; which Alya never understood. Marinette was right. Lila was a liar. Alya and Marinette should be teaming up to bring her down like their brought down Chloe; stand together like best friends do.

As Alya sat patiently at her desk, with Nino holding her hand in support, waiting for Marinette to arrive so she could find comfort in her bestie, never once did an apology cross her mind. Alya was too indignant, too self-righteous, convinced the Ladybug was victim-blaming. It wasn’t Alya’s fault. Her boyfriend agreed. Her entire class agreed. She just knew, soon, all of Paris would agree.

When Marinette casually strolled in, talking animatedly with Chloe about their week, she left the other students stunned. Gone was the pintails. Gone was the easy-going, simple, practically trademarked pink pants and grey flower decorated shirt. Gone was the happy smile that the students had always remembered was there to greet them and bring them cheer on a sour Monday, like the day was.

Instead, Marinette’s hair was down and flowing down her shoulders, longer than they could ever remember it being (though granted they hadn’t paid much attention to their once friend in last few months, except for giving her a few quick glares and sneers) and was perfectly coiffed with strands pullback in braids that would’ve made Daenerys Targaryen take notes. She was dressed in all black; a cropped leather jacket, a sparkly black halter top that tied around her neck in a pretty bow, her jeans black and skin tight, and killer high heels that would make most girls envious. The only color Marinette wore was the sliver bracelets adorning her arms and the classic movie star red lips she sported. Marinette looked a supermodel.

And if Marinette’s new look didn’t stunned them. Then the look on her face when she glanced at them sure did. Move over Hawkmoth, because if Marinette didn’t scare you, no evil thing could.

It was like the entire classroom went colder. Maybe it was because of the ice in Marinette’s stare, her curved red-stained smirk that screamed: beware. The way everything about her just screamed predator, alpha, top of the food chain. Queen.

Alya blinked hard. Nino blinked hard. Adrien blinked hard. Too stunned at the sight to even remember to badger the bluenette. She and Chloe, also dressed like a runaway model, flounced to the back of the class without a hello, a smile, a wave; anything friendly. It was like they were too insignificant for the girls to notice. If they had an ounce of luck still in their lives, that would’ve been so.

Unfortunately for them that wasn’t the case.

The girls were painfully aware of their existence; of every move they made over the week, every stupid text they sent, every false apology uttered. Because the downfall of the Ladyblog was just a taste of what was to come. At this point, Marinette and Chloe was just Spiders waiting for the kill.

“Girl, you don’t have to sit with Chloe,” Alya exclaimed. “We’ll make room, right?” Nino nodded quickly, eager to give his childhood friend an olive branch.

“Why wouldn’t I want to sit with Chloe?” Marinette asked nonchalantly. “She’s my best friend.”

What happened next was similar to what, Marinette, thought happened in movie; where the main character says something shocking at a dance, there’s a sound of a record scratch, and silence as all eyes turn to the speaker.

The smirk the spread over Chloe’s face, the glow that filled her, the thought of the havoc she was about to help commence practically made her purr.

“Best friend?” Alix asked, her pink hair pulled back and her face skeptical. “Last I checked, you were mortal enemies.”

“Last time you check was not long after Lie-La came to class,” Marinette retorted.

“Which is the last time you’re opinion matter to us,” Chloe added. “Or well to Mari here. I never paid you peasant any mind.”

“You can’t be best friends,” Alya jumped up. “You shouldn’t even be friends. I can’t believe it? After what she did to you?”

The other students nodded.

“She stole your design.” Rose put in.

“Bullied you for years,” Max said.

“Ruined your present for teach!” Kim added.

Alya nodded smugly at the class backing her up, and gave Marinette a bright smile and an expectant look that always used to work on cowing the other girl.

“Bygones,” Marinette sighed. “I forgave her. And we bonded over how stupid you were at believing Lie-La.” Marinette leaned back in her seat. “Besides it’s not like she ever called me a jealous bitch? Told me to check my sources? Ditched me a million times. Whispered mean words about me right in front of me. And even crueler words behind my back. Chloe would never do that.”

“You know who would?” Chloe grinned. ‘You.” She pointed at Alya. “And you.” She pointed at Alix. “And you!” At Nino “And you, you, you, you. And well everyone here really.”

“Chloe maybe be mean; in fact the greatest mean girl Sharpay,” Marinette smiled lovingly at the blond who preened at the praise.

“But at least I’m not a bad friend,” Chloe snipped viciously.

“Now Chloe that would imply I’m still friends with them at all.”

At the statement, students wilted into themselves. Their misdeeds weighed heavily on them. They had been so upset at Lila for lying to them, at themselves for believing her, kicking themselves for not listening to Marinette, they never once considered how Marinette felt about the whole mess. But now they knew, she wasn’t happy.

Little did they know just how furious the once sweet girl was.

The two girls turned their attention to each other.

“Wasn’t this week just amaz!” Chloe said easily. “Fashion shows are always just so spectacular.”

“Your mom is, like, the best,” Marinette nodded eagerly. “I still can’t believe we got to model.”

Chloe side-eyed the students, pretending they weren’t listening. “And why not? They were short. And just look at us. We’re beautiful. We deserved to be on that runway.”

“Runaway?” Mylène asked, awed. “You were in a fashion show.”

Marinette nodded, kindly, though inwardly smirking. “There are pictures from the show online. They’re trending.” So was Marinette’s social media accounts. “We got to model with Kate Upton and Bella and Gigi Hadid.”

“We’re all the rage!” Chloe stated. “Mommy’s thinking of making us the faces of her new line. We’ll be in next week’s issue of Teen Vogue.”

“I posted a few photos on my Insta,” Marinette shrugged. “You can look if you want, I guess.” It was said with a faux unsure, insecure, unassuming voice; a voice that even the most terrifying vampire bat could have even the smartest of victims dancing to it.

With that the girls went back to their conversation. Pretending they didn’t notice their classmates whipping out their phones to verify.

“WOW,” Rose beamed. “They do have pics with the Hadid sisters. Oh you look so pretty Marinette.”

“Dude is that Kendall Jenner?” Kim asked.

“Beyoncé!” Alya yelled. “Beyoncé was there. You met Beyoncé.”

“Chill,” Chloe snapped. “We didn’t meet her. We just waved. Jay-Z was there too btw.”

“Jay-Z,” Nino whispered in awe.

Before befriending Marinette, Chloe was have gladly lied and said they met the goddess, that was Queen Beyoncé. But Marinette wouldn't suffer liars. And hated anyone who lied about her. Chloe was smart enough to know losing Marinette as a friend would be costly to her; both personally and professionally.

The blond refused to toss away the blessing that was Marinette’s friendship. Not the like fools before her. They didn’t know what they lost. But Chloe would make sure they did.

It had taken weeks of slowly inching her way to being Marinette’s friend. The girl had been untrusting the blonde’s actions at first. But eventually, Chloe won her over, proved she could be a good friend, if not the best friend Marinette ever had.

And the best part? Chloe didn’t have to change. Granted she had to dull unsavory traits like lying and stealing but it was worth it.

“Tony. Stark.” Max gulped like he was just told Santa was in fact real. “You are in a picture with Tony Stark; Iron Man.”

“Pepper Potts wanted a vacation,” Marinette said. “Peter, their son, is a friend of mine. We met last summer when he was visiting England with his class. I was there with my grandma. We hit it off. He knew I was nervous about going on stage so he got his mom to come here so he could support me. It was just supposed to be the two of them. Until Mr. Tony realized and followed along. Swore up and down they were trying to ditch him,” Marinette laughed.

“Oh please,” Chloe huffed. “He was proud that his kid was hanging out with a gorgeous French model.”

“Two gorgeous French models,” Marinette corrected. “The three of us got ice cream afterwards, remember? I can’t wait for this summer. Peter said we can spend of three weeks at Stark Tower; interning. PR for you. You’ll be amazing at it. God knows I could do, though.” She said glumly. Though her internship was going to be assisting the Pepper Potts on her day to day life.

“Ridiculous!” Chloe snapped. “Utterly Ridiculous. You know you can’t wait to get your hands on Thor’s cape to find out what material Alien princes use. Not to mention the plans I saw for a potential Captain America supersuit.”

Marinette crossed her arms, and huffed. “Hey that man is walking around dressed like America’s drunk prom date. Someone has to step in.”

“It’s a classic look,” Nathanial told them.

“It’s a crime against fashion,” Marinette hissed.

With that, the girls went back to talking about their weekend and bickering over summer plans. Or at least they tried to.

“You could’ve invited us,” Alya snapped. “Or at least told us.”

“Why?” Marinette asked. “We’re not friends. Why don’t you ask Lila how it was? I’m sure, she’ll happily spin you a yarn about how amazing everything was. And promise you’ll meet them next time.”

It was like a slap to the face. The entire class quieted back down; wishing the bell would ring already. And wondering where Miss Bustier was.

Unfortunately for the teacher, quite a few concerned parents and staff members had taken issue with how Bustier had been running her class. Bullying, students being constantly turned into Akumas, why Lila could miss so much school without it being a major issue.

“Don’t you think you’re being harsh?” Adrien asked. “They’re sorry.”

No, Marinette thought darkly. They weren’t. Not yet. But they would be soon.

“Okay,” Marinette shrugged, carelessly, inhumanly. “I don’t see why that matters. I accept their apology but it changes nothing. Sorry doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t magically make every alright again. It’s no Ladybug charm. Let it go.” She warned.

While Marinette did have plans to bring down Adrien, they were for a later time. And when she did, it would be painful. And it would break him. Like he helped break her.

For months Adrien had stood by, remained silent as Marinette was made into an outcast, bullied, lost all her friends… when he knew. Knew Lila was lying, knew Marinette was just trying to help. After he promised, vowed to have her back. Instead, Adrien let them deface her sketchbook after Lila accuse Marinette of yet another bullying incident; destroying all of Marinette’s hard work. Despite knowing Marinette couldn’t have possible done what Lila said she had. He just let it happen, too afraid to stand up and tell the truth.

Adrien didn’t take the hint. Or didn’t recognize a warning when he heard it.

“Their hurting too!” The blond boy defended, outraged at how his everyday Ladybug

“How?” Marinette asked curiously, innocently reminiscent of the girl who had been their friend who had existed when the world was still a wholesome place. “You said it yourself it’s not like Lila was hurting anybody. At least that’s what you told me, remember? You knew Lila was lying since like forever and you’re just fine.”

It went silent again. Adrien paled. Marinette could barely stop the smile from slipping onto her face. If she wasn’t careful, they might combined their collective ten brain cells and catch on. See that she was a monster that should’ve never been released.

“You knew?” Nino asked in horrified disbelief.

Dozens of hurt filled eyes trained on Adrien. It was at that moment Ms. Mendeleiev walked into class. “Students, I’ll be filling in today and possibly for the rest of the week. Everyone in their seats. Class is about to begin.”

It was the smoothest devastation Chloe had ever witnessed and grew up with her mother and Gabriel Agreste as role models.

In few years, the blonde knew there would be few would who hesitate to call Marinette, or herself, the devil. Too stunned to realize just how much worse either girl was.

Chloe glanced at the girl who had become her best friend, and fellow mean-girl-in-arms. Marinette had her bluebell eyes trained on the chaos she had just unleashed, once again, on her fellow classmates.

A lessor man, woman would’ve shivered. Chloe had shivered and had nightmares the first time that gaze rested on her.

However, when time wore off the shock; Chloe realize she’d only see those type of eyes watching from underneath a rock.

If you weren’t scared of the New Marinette, then you hadn’t met her yet.

Look out world, Chloe thought. Long Live the Queen.

#Queen Mari AU.#Ml Salt #ladybug and chat noir #ml salt fic #ml spite fic #ml spite #adrien agreste #marinette dupen chang #marinette deserves better

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atrainernamedradish · 5 years

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Build-A-Dex Challenge [2/3]

Part 1: https://atrainernamedradish.tumblr.com/post/186594319157/build-a-dex-challenge-13

Build-A-Dex Challenge:

3 Starters:

In the video the starters weren’t based off pre-determined region trios but more on choosing one of each of their signature typing making them into their own separate trio.

For grass I chose my 3rd favorite grass starter in Torterra. It’s bulk and attacking prowess makes up for its lack of speed with a nice STAB Earthquake and Wood Hammer! Ground is also such a wonderful secondary typing for the primary grass. I have no problem using such a tanky Pokemon, and it deserves some love and face time compared to the other two that rank higher than it on my starters list.

For fire I went with another 3rd favorite choice in Delphox. I don’t care what anyone says, I simply adore this entire starter line~! Fire/Psychic is such a great unique typing that I can use thru this Pokemon without having to resorting to hindering Darmanitan or hoping Game Freak can lend me a level 50 Victini, which I doubt! This is a special powerhouse that I am always eager to have on the team, and just like Torterra, it needs more love~

When looking at my choices for a water starter I realized something... I am not the biggest fan of water starters. I don’t necessarily hate them, but I honestly don’t care for them. One of the few I simply adore however is Primarina. Fairy typing is always a solid typing to have, and you can teach it coverage moves to take down those pesky weaknesses. It’s slower like Torterra, but like Delphox has a good special attack to scare away any threats!

My three choices honestly just have great dual typings, and aren’t so bad in battle for an in-game play through. I guess you could say that my choices were underappreciated underdogs~

Regional Bug:

One of my favorite regional bugs originates from Hoenn in Wurmple. It is cute with an unique way of evolving. Unlike other bugs native to other regions who simple have a three stage evolution, Wurmple has five! Not to mention its branched as well determined by its personality value, which cannot be altered. So not only do you get a few extra Pokemon to fatten up the Pokedex, but you have it in an unique way too~

Regional Bird:

I personally am not the biggest fan of regional birds as well as the dual typing of normal/flying. With that in mind I went for Fletchling because it drops the normal typing for fire upon evolving. Plus Talonflame is a beast in battle, and helpful outside for hatching eggs and getting you around the region.

Regional Rodent:

While I’m not the biggest fan of Diggersby’s design, it is one of the better options among its niche when Bunnelby evolves. Not only is ground a nice secondary typing, but eventually this Pokemon learns STAB Earthquake via level up among other useful moves via TM. STAB Earthquake and Return make it a viable team member early on and setting it apart from the basic boring options of route 1 normal rodent encounters.

Regional Cat:

Setting my Pokedex choices apart from the aforementioned basic boring normal types is the dark type Purrloin and its evolution in Liepard. Liepard can actually be a nuisance to deal with if you have the right moveset on it. Dark typing is always nifty to obtain early game as well.

Pikachu Clone:

I promise you that I am not trying to squeeze as many fairy types as I can into this Pokedex. Pretty much I wanted to add in a decent clone among the list and it was between my choice of Dedenne and the one that I didn’t choose in Togedemaru. Dedenne is not only adorable, but can be very hard to deal with if you don’t have two of its only weaknesses since the third one is neutral in this type combination.

Pair of Fossils:

Emperor Cubone didn’t specify if you had to choose an actual regional pair, or if you could mix and match them. Since I am unsure of that I will simply go with fossils from Hoenn in Lileep and Anorith. Personally, I really don’t care for the Anorith line. It’s simply there for the Lileep line since that is my favorite fossil line hands down! Lileep and Cradily are one of the few fossil Pokemon that doesn’t have to deal with water, and especially a 4x weakness to grass compared to the other fossils, and that’s always viable. Some of its other weaknesses like bug and flying have to be extremely careful around its rock typing, which with its high defense and HP stat can usually soak up attacks from. Not to mention its other grass side weaknesses in fire and poison are neutral since its rock side resists the two.

Overall the Lileep line is one of the best fossils you could ask to have (though I’m sure the Anorith line has its merits).

Unrelated Connections:

I went with Durant and Heatmor because I wanted typings with lesser numbers to fill the dex likes steel and fire (since starters make up most of the fire typing). I think Durant is a pretty cool Pokemon who usually overshadows its rival, and I wanted Heatmor to get more attention since I can image it being pretty forgettable.

Cave Encounters:

I wanted to spice up this category by eliminating typical encounters such as Zubats/Woobats and mono-type rock types as entries. There will be a bat and rock in the forms of Noibat and Carbink. I chose these two since their typings correspond with each other. Plus they have a lot more to offer than your typical bats and rocks.

I thought I’d throw in a ground type since ground types can be a common typing to be found in caves so I went with Drilbur. Not only is Excadrill such a beast of a powerhouse, but it also gets the steel typing which can be a later threat to Carbink to round off the typings in the caves.

Surf Encounters:

Instead of annoying sea birds and jelly fish I thought Wishiwashi would make a good replacement, At lower levels it’s annoying at best, but in higher leveled waters this thing would not only be terrifying, but is powered up, but there’d be some juicy XP to gain.

Remoraid is another option I wanted to add since it actually learns a fair amount of moves that can not only handle its weaknesses but is powered up by its ability.

Mantyke/Mantine is the last surf encounter option. Since Remoraid is its counterpart I thought it would be a good idea to have it with it. It would be the rarer encounter with Mantyke in lower leveled water and Mantine in higher level water. It also sort of replaces Wingull/Pelippers annoying flying asses,,,

Tough to Find/Evolve:

I’m going to start off with a Pokemon that fits the bill for both these requirements: Feebas.

Feebas is usually hard to find with Alola having it at 10% which I believe is pretty high compared to the low specific areas to usually find in other regions. Depending on in-game mechanics, Feebas can evolve in two different ways which can be easier or harder depending on the way to do so. So that’s why Feebas is on this section of the list.

I have three Pokemon for Tough to Find with female Salandit starting off the list. Unless you are lucky, or can exploit a male Pokemon with the Cute Charm ability, then you’d have a 1 out of 10 (I’m treating 100% as a 10) of finding one that is female. The reason gender is so important is because only the female can evolve. You could use a male Salandit, but it’s so weak that I wouldn’t bother... (Salandit is actually really cute and I feel bad pointing out how weak it is.)

My second pick is Mareanie, and to some extent Corsola. Corsola only as a 5% chance to be found through fishing unless you look for bubbly spots to fish at bringing it up to 20%, which is lower compared to other Pokemon you can fish for as well in those spots. You also have to spend time leaving and coming back to the minuscule routes Corsola’s on for the bubbly spots to appear if you want that extra 15% chance to encounter it. And even when you finally encounter the damned thing you have to hope you get another 20% in the SOS method to lure out the Pokemon you’re actually trying to get! So good luck~

My third pick is Maractus. In the generation its from you have a very small chance of finding it. You can practically overlook it that’s how rare it is! I chose it because it needs more love~

For Tough Pokemon To Evolve I have another set of three Pokemon.

My first choice is Nincada. Leveling it up is a fucking pain, especially in early games (think of Magikarp in that regard)! Then you need to make sure you have an open slot in your party and a spare Pokeball, or you can kiss getting both of its branched evolutions in Shedinja!

My second choice is Clamperl. It isn’t the super rarest Pokemon to find, but finding it is tedious since it has either a lower percentage or you need an HM. You also need to catch two and have two specific items so you can trade them while holding said items to get it to evolve both into Gorebyss and Huntail.

My last choice is Porygon. You usually gave to go out of your way for it, or much later in game to obtain it. Then you need to find two specific items to not only trade and evolve it, but then once more to get it to evolve again!

Doesn’t Evolve (Minimum 2):

I have chosen four Pokemon for this category” Girafarig, Mawile, Cryognal, and Drampa.

Girafarig is an odd Pokemon with a mostly unique typing (at least the one who started it lol). I feel like it’s very underrated, underappreciated, and forgettable to most so I wanted to add it to give it more love and attention~

Mawile is cute and has a good typing.

I don’t know why but I’m very fond of Cryognal. Sorry if that’s not a good enough reason to have it on the list lol~

Drampa is my favorite dragon type. It’s a shallow reason I know but... *shrugs* eh. What do you want from me?

Pseudo-Legendary:

I chose Beldum because it has such a desirable typing and Metagross is an absolute beast as well as can learn some good moves to cover its weaknesses. Plus it is a well designed Pokemon from it’s first-stage to its Mega. An extra bonus is that it’s a non-dragon Pseudo compared to the rest, and the less dragons the better!

Legendaries (Max 5?):

In his video Emperor Cubone stated that just like the starters, they don’t have to be with their respected pairs/trios/etc.. Unfortunately Mythical Legendaries aren’t an option for this list since they require outisde sources to get them usually. I also didn’t include Ultra Beasts since they’re more of a regional gimmick.

For these five I was trying to have as little typings shared between them as well as these choices were made more for aesthetics than anything.

I have no real other explanations for why I chose these other than what was aforementioned or that these were my favorites from their group/pair/version exclusives: Xerneas, Virizion, Lugia, Giratina, and Solgaleo.

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hecallsmehischild · 3 years

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Recent Media Consumed

Books

Half-Bad by Sally Green. Man, this is grim. It’s good fantasy, and the writers breaks certain writing conventions to convey the story better, which is fascinating. But it’s so grim. There’s two more books in the series and I want to get ahold of those before I say more.

Zoo City by Lauren Beukes. Did I say Half-Bad was grim? This is grim. Grimdark to the max. But also a fascinating premise, that the crime of murder and its accompanying guilt manifests an animal companion that marks you for the rest of your (shortened) life? If you can stomach some of the imagery and if you do well with being plunged into unknown terminology and figuring it out on the go from context, this is a good read.

Dropped titles: Pursuing God’s Will Together by Ruth Haley Barton and How Should We Then Live by Francis Shaeffer. One was a recommendation, one was semi-assigned reading because I’m a non-voting member of a ministry board. In both cases I got about halfway through. I have the gist of both books and I’m enjoying neither. At all. I started to avoid Audible altogether. The moment I gave myself permission to stop listening to them and pick up the next Thomas Sowell book on my list, I was right back on reading, because I’m actually interested in what Sowell has to say. Note to self: it’s ok to drop books that you find uninteresting. (this preceded a Sowell binge reading session)

Dismantling America (and other controversial essays) by Thomas Sowell. I was surprised at how much more of an edge Sowell has in this book, but the appearance of the edge here makes a certain amount of sense. This is the first collection of newspaper columns I’ve read by him, and he has way less time to make his point in a column than he has in a book. With that in mind, his points have much less groundwork than I’m used to reading from him when he spends a whole book on a topic (though I’d guess that each point he makes probably has a crapton of citations in the printed book, like the rest of his work. He’s quite thorough about his research). This is probably not the best title of his to pick as a first read, but it’s good and interesting. My main take-away point from this book is that politicians look out for politicians, and expecting them to do anything else is naive. And, in fact, many things attributed to a politician’s “stupidity” is far from stupid, in fact they are brilliant within their set of incentives and constraints. It just rarely aligns with the general public’s best interest. Thinking about it again, it MIGHT be a good first book. It sums up a lot of his views into bite-sized digests. It just doesn’t substantiate each and every claim as thoroughly as some of his other books do. That’s my grain of salt.

Compassion Versus Guilt by Thomas Sowell. More of the same, a collection of essays by Sowell. Different ones, on a different theme. A couple that sound like they could have been written by the authors of Politically Correct Bedtime Stories, his satire is on point.

Ethnic America by Thomas Sowell. This was a fascinating read for me. This book traces 8 groups of ethnic migrations to America. I descend from Scottish, Irish, and Russian Jewish immigrants, and seeing what the different groups had to content with over the years was very enlightening. A few things that stood out to me were; each immigrant group seems to have very different cultural strengths and foibles, inter-group violence is not new (but not always in the directions modern people would think), almost every group has its own upper class that disdains and reviles its lower class, and each ethnic group is far more variable and differentiated than the general category (“the Irish” or “the blacks” or “the Jews”) makes them out to be. More and more I’m coming to mistrust the general racial category as referenced by either political party because it seems to be a linguistic expediency that sacrifices the truth of a situation for a fast rallying point.

Civil Rights: Rhetoric or Reality? by Thomas Sowell. I’m not even sure what to say about this book. It’s short and punchy and gives me a lot to think about. Sowell definitely has zero sacred cows. Toward the end of this book he addresses some of his critics who piled onto Ethnic America, which was interesting. Also, while reading this, I have begun to realize how much of a disadvantage I am at in analyzing arguments because I’m unable to understand how people slice numbers into statistics to make their point. I’m at the mercy of the conclusion they draw at the end of the statistics because, until they summarize their findings, I really don’t understand what the raw numbers are saying. I’ve had this feeling for a while, but in this book, Sowell dissects some of the foundational studies and statistics that buttressed later civil rights cases, and I realized that if I just read the statistics and data from those cases and the statistical rebuttals that Sowell has side by side, I would not understand what was being argued at all. I can only rely on the end conclusions put into words at this point, but the written conclusion is not the proof, the numbers are. This gap in my understanding is disheartening, but I hope to continue sponging up knowledge in the hopes that I will be able to think more critically in future years.

Maverick, a Biography of Thomas Sowell by Jason L. Riley. My parents pre-ordered this for my birthday a few months ago and it arrived a few days ago. I have torn through it. I think I got a more cohesive overview of Sowell’s progression through his body of work and added several titles to my wishlist. The biography is fairly minimalist on Sowell’s personal life and focuses more on his ideological clashes with… well, everyone, left and right, people he disdained and people he admired. Maverick, alright. Also Riley takes a look at how each of Sowell’s books (or grouping of books) came about, for what reasons, and what was going on at the time.

People of the Book edited by Rachel Swirsky and Sean Wallace. This is a compilation of Jewish sci-fi and fantasy short stories and can probably be summed up best by this paragraph in the introduction: “These stories allow us to identify with, although briefly, so many different characters and places, they entertain us and they give us comfort. And yet, the tales in this anthology often have a melancholic tinge, similar in tone to the minor keys of our musical liturgy. We don’t want to be too comfortable, too happy. Because that might bring some bad luck onto us, might tempt the evil eye.” I also sensed a whole lot of anger in the undercurrent of these stories, and that saddened me.

On deck/currently reading: The Brothers Karamazov, The Rational Bible: Genesis, re-read of Basic Economics, and War Nerd.

Shows

Dropped series: Hilda. The first season was lovely on so many counts. The second season’s antagonist… bothers me. So does Hilda’s behavior. And given how much time I spent on Star and its accompanying disappointment, I’m not really interested in continuing Hilda any further. I’m shelving it at this point. There are other things I’d like to watch.

Infinity Train Season 4: Now retitled “The Wormhole Judgment Line” I believe, lol. It’s hard to top season 3, but it was a solid story. Good. Interesting. The resolution with the villains int he last episode felt kind of out of nowhere and I’m really not okay with Morgan’s behavior even if the plot wants me to feel sorry for her, but those things aside, it was enjoyable. I hope Infinity Train is picked up again, I’d love to see more.

On Deck: The Mandalorian or Wandavision

Movies

Jiang Ziya. Okay whatever this studio produces in this line of movies, I will be watching it. I definitely don’t understand all the significance of what I’m seeing but it’s creative along COMPLETELY DIFFERENT lines than US animation and it’s an absolute joy to behold.

Raya and the Last Dragon. Suffice it to say, it would take an intensive blog post (or a movie review of the style I used to do as one half of The Storytrollers) to cover all the things that bothered me about this movie. I will take the thing that bothered me the most and be brief: I find the moral to be terrible. I take major issue with the idea that repeated blind trust in the face of repeated betrayal will reshape the world, given that I extended blind trust to people who never changed for many years. I take issue with the worldbuilding, I take issue with some of the designs, and I take issue with the moral. I was exceedingly disappointed in this movie.

Profile. Now THIS was a good movie. I would not be averse to seeing more movies shot like this, using the computer desktop as both film set and character. In addition this was an interesting topic, though I was tense for the whole movie, afraid the main character was going to slip up. Very good, very tense movie to sit through.

Mighty Ira. So, this is a documentary about one of the great leaders of the ACLU. It was interesting to see this, especially since it shed more light on the whole Skokie situation than I’d heard of before. Good watch. Informative.

#child loves movies #child loves shows #child loves books #recent media consumed #mind your peas and queues

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billydmacklin · 6 years

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Cooking Without A Kitchen!

As we already know, my kitchen for the past nearly two years has been a sorry gutted pit of despair. Let’s not dwell on it. If you didn’t already know, here’s a basic rundown. Life comes at you fast sometimes.

While the period between gutting the old kitchen and finishing the new one might be JUST A TAD longer than what a more normal renovation might demand, most kitchen renovations do result in a space that’s temporarily unusable. The classic response to this is often some combination of microwaveable meals and take-out, the latter of which I am ALL ABOUT except for the part where it gets insanely expensive and super unhealthy and, honestly, pickings are slim around these parts. Additionally, I actually do like to cook my own food, especially to wind down a bit at the end of the day!

SO. If you are anything like me, and you might be taking on a kitchen renovation, HEED MY WORDS: give yourself the gift of setting up something efficient and functional in the meantime. It can be tempting to just throw yourself 300% into the renovation while your life disintegrates into squalor around you, but you actually don’t have to make your house a living hell of dysfunction as punishment for trying to make it better long-term. Don’t be a martyr. It’s taken me…a while to learn this.

For me, the most painless way to do this was to set up my dining room as a temporary kitchen. And honestly? It’s not the worst kitchen I’ve ever had!

I turned the dining table the other direction to free up a little space for that honker of a fridge next to the hutch. That big butcher block is my makeshift countertop, and the cookie jar thing holds food scraps for compost. I know they sell containers for this very purpose, but I find that it needs to be emptied because it’s full long before it ever starts to stink, so I like my vintage crock thing.

I gotta hand it to that fridge, by the way—it came from my friend Anna‘s old kitchen and is at least a decade old and aside from a few dents on the door (don’t ask), might as well be brand new. All LG appliances (including televisions!) I’ve ever had have been wonderful. Sometimes I get a little weepy over how great my LG washer and dryer are. On one hand I kind of hope the fridge dies because having a built-in ice-maker would be HEAVEN but at the same time, a new fridge is not an expense I need to incur at this moment. Anyway. Carry on, fridge. A+ work.

The hutch now holds all my everyday dishes, glasses, mugs, mixing bowls, colanders, measuring cups, etc., as well as pantry items! That thing can store so much shit. It’s not the most beautiful display I’ve ever put together, but it’s organized and efficient and works! Good enough!

Speaking of unattractive but organized and efficient displays, here’s what’s happening on the other wall! You might recognize the dresser from my old Brooklyn apartment, but I think it was originally intended to be a server. Those top two drawers are the perfect depth for storing flatware and various cooking utensils like peelers and pastry brushes and measuring spoons and stuff like that. The other drawers hold saran/foil/plastic bags, tupperware, pots, pans, oven mitts, tea towels—I basically have a whole slimmed-down kitchen in there! Those plastic drawers next to it could probably be eliminated, but do hold a few things, and mostly provide a pedestal for the trash so that my adorable and naughty dog doesn’t get into it. That girl is incorrigible.

I have to pause for a second to gush over these little induction cooktops because I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. Induction is pretty crazy/amazing technology that I won’t claim to totally understand, but essentially it turns your pot/pan into the heating element, rather than heating the pot with an electric coil or a gas flame. It’s super efficient and precise, and because the cooktop itself doesn’t heat up (although it DOES get hot just from the residual heat of the pan during cooking), the cooktops are incredibly easy to clean—WAY easier than an electric glass cooktop. After a bit of searching around, I bought two of these single-burner cooktops by Waring for just $60 a pop! They make a double-wide version too, but I’m glad I bought these because they can stack and store away easily. For over double the cost, you can buy one with the Cuisinart brand name on it, but it’s literally exactly the same product so don’t do that.

Anyway. I love my little hot plates a lot. The plan for the kitchen is a gas range, but I can totally see myself continuing to use these now and then if I just need to boil some spaghetti or fry an egg or just keep something warm on the lowest setting. Endless opportunities!

Oh also! That leather skillet grip was a Christmas gift from bae and it’s perfect. It was made by locally owned and operated Jay Teske Leather Co.. And now that I’m looking at their website, I want to order about 5 other things…so much nice stuff, gah! I love the way natural leather patinas over time and expect to have it forever. I love that there are so many artists and makers producing stuff like this right out of Kingston. And at $24, I mean, such a good gift idea.

Oh also, also! The marble piece is this pastry slab from Crate & Barrel, which amazingly is still the same $50 as it was when I bought it several years ago. Once I tried to find a less expensive alternative, but this one’s such a great value for the size that I couldn’t beat it.

On top of the microwave (also a hand-me-down from Anna—thanks, pal!) are a few essentials within easy reach! I don’t know what that little teeny tripod bowl is for, but I use it to hold Malden Salt flakes which in my experience make all food taste better. A few cork trivets, paper towels, salt and pepper mills, and I decant olive oil in that little cork-lidded container which is supposed to be a creamer.

Side note: just realized the creamer was designed by Kaj Franck, who also designed my mushroom bowl from my last post!

Side-side-note: who knew BB&B sold iittala?! That little stack of 20% off coupons just got a whole lot more valuable.

In terms of actually cooking instead of just talking about cooking…I have a hard time getting to the grocery store regularly while in the midst of big house projects, and Sun Basket has been a GODSEND. I know, all you wanted today was to read another blogger review a meal delivery service. BUT I have no affiliation whatsoever with them, I just heard about them a few months ago on a podcast about cults like any other normal person and gave it a shot.

It’s been several years since I used a meal kit delivery service (Max and I used to get Blue Apron—also no affiliation), so I’m not sure how far the others have advanced, but Sun Basket is the best as far as I’m concerned. The food is REALLY good, produce is fresh, portions are generous, and I’m always kind of stunned when I look at the calorie counts—each meal is usually somewhere around 500-600 calories but you’d never know and it does not feel at all like diet food. Every week, they put out a menu with 18(!) different meals to choose from, of which you can either pick your selections or let Sun Basket do the work for you by specifying a meal plan. The meal plan thing is AMAZING—there are 8 options like Paleo, Vegetarian, Vegan, Pescatarian…and gluten-free! This is a big deal for me. Bae needs to be gluten-free, so consequently I end up being mostly gluten-free, and figuring out what to cook is hard enough already without throwing dietary restrictions into the mix. Sun Basket’s gluten-free meals have made that transition a billion times easier and unquestionably tastier. You can also skip as many weeks of delivery as you want, get 2, 3, or 4 recipes each week that can feed either 2 or 4 people! I have mine set up for three recipes a week for two people ($78), but it’s easy to bump up to 4 recipes or down to 2 if the spirit moves me. Each delivery comes with a little recipe book containing all the recipes from that week, so you can reconstruct and cook ones that you didn’t even order to try out. They’re actually good enough that you want to do that, for real!

The cooking part is nice, by the way. It’s never too complicated, but is involved enough that you really feel like you’ve made something instead of just tossing some pre-measured stuff together. Typically recipes will require 1 or 2 pots/pans and rarely do they call for the use of an oven, which is convenient because I don’t have one. I do have a lil bitty toaster oven, though, and that’s usually fine for whatever the recipe’s asking me to do. It really just works out well all around!

ALSO JUST SAYING: if you were considering trying out Sun Basket, now is a good time because they’re running a promo for $40 off your first order! And if you follow this link to place your order, I’ll get a $40 credit too, which I would not complain about.

Try Sun Basket. Feed me. Win-win.

Annnndddd while I’m just recommending ways to spend your money left and right, I just got a bottle of this stuff and it’s SO GOOD. Expensive and SO GOOD. I’m gonna have to experiment with trying to make my own because I cannot afford for this to be a habit, but I’ve never used something that cleans and protects a wood countertop in one fell swoop, and I just want to smear it all over every wood product I own. Liquid. Motherfucking. GOLD.

So there it is! The irony of gutting a pretty decent kitchen with the goal of building a better kitchen and then ending up living with this for two years isn’t lost on me. But I do feel like this “kitchen” has actually taught me a lot about what I actually need rather than simply want, and has really forced me to evaluate the utility of each and every kitchen item I own—it’s amazing how much extraneous stuff we can justify when we have the space for it. Also, just IMAGINE how luxurious my expanses of countertop will feel after becoming so accustomed to this set-up. I won’t even know what to do with it all.

The ounce of shame I have left will not allow me to show the dishwasher strapped to a stud in the kitchen to keep it from tipping over and draining into a five gallon bucket that I dump in the backyard because the kitchen sink still isn’t plumbed, so I’ll just let your imagination run wild with how fancy that is. Related: what the hell is wrong with all plumbers? That’s not a question that needs an answer, just one that I ponder constantly. LET ME GIVE YOU MONEY TO DO THE THING THAT YOU DO TO MAKE MONEY. PLEASE.

Anyone ever plumbed a kitchen sink? Asking for a friend.

Cooking Without A Kitchen! published first on https://carpetgurus.tumblr.com/

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