#but idk.. do i post it at once without splitting? or removing anything?
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
regarding: colour me in – HMMMMM okay pls talk to me about this 🎨🤍
#you guys okay with a 28/29k chapter?#it's looking like it sigh#i know you all love big chapters a lot but i always get worried it might be way too much!!#and that ppl might not read if it gets too long/lose interest/not come back to it since it takes time?#but idk.. do i post it at once without splitting? or removing anything?#like every scene is so important and cmi11-core and i promise im working hard on it all 👉🏼👈🏼#and i would love for you all to read it bc cmi11 is so important and my entire heart is in it andddddd 🥺 would love for you to love it!#but oh god i never shut up fsjkhfksjajfs#pls lmk :') if no one's around i'll ask again in a day or two <3#fic: colour me in
48 notes
·
View notes
Note
sorry if this was has been asked b4 but how did you do your Raika Hojo pixels/blinkies? I wanna learn how to do ‘em :D

og post: https://www.tumblr.com/chichirid/767910269177528320/raika-hojo-pixels-and-blinkies-20x20-and-30x30
this is a tutorial on photopea, and its kind of vague so feel free to lmk if you need specific steps rather than a general process / if you dont understand anything :3

hiii so for the blinkies i used this dotted border, and this rectangle border i made (dont credit me, i traced it from blinkie cafe 😳)
i forgot which font i used.. sorry!! but i found a sampler online and typed "special for princess" and "raika hojo" then screenshotted it like the image below. then i removed the bg and was only left with the black text. then in photopea i selected the pixels of the layer so it only selected the text, and then i very carefully traced over the letters using the brush tool. (btw i colour-picked the colours from their logo image). i used the screen layer setting & a stroke setting of one pixel.
i just used a cursive font and tried to imitate a ribbon myself through colouring ><
for the raika pngs i screenshotted some sprites then copied them in. idk how to use symmetry so i placed one png at one side of the blinkie, and found what X coordinate it was at. (ie 205px) and then subtracted that from my blinkie template's total X width (730px). then manually typed the X coordinate of the other png based off that formula (so to get a png symmetrical to an image at 205px, the X coordinate of the png would be 730 - 205px.)

for the flashing dots i made two frames:
then i combined these in ezgif "gif maker". the lower the delay time the faster the gif will go.
to make these two frames i used that earlier dotted border. essentially i used a gradient map on the dotted border's layer where the black was the red colour used and then the white. (like this image below as an example, both colours are set at 50% and 50% to get an even split). this makes one frame. to get the other i just clicked "reverse gradient".

to make the pixels, i saved some raika pngs using the enstars wiki, and then opened a new canvas in photopea with the dimensions of 30x30. (30 width, 30 height). then i opened the pngs and sized them how i wanted. important for this step: CLICK ENTER ON YOUR KEYBOARD ONCE FINISHED SIZING! this will make the pngs go blurry rather than pixelated, which will result in a more legible image when viewed from far away. its really up to you but i like making my images blurry. example:
on the left i havent hit enter on my keyboard, on the right i have. save this basic png without the background layer
then just "ctrl + alt + t" again and either tilt the image, size it up, or use the arrow keys to move it sideways or up. save this moved image and once again i used ezgif gif maker to combine the two frames and make a pixel. oh also click "dont stack frames" when making the gif. here i moved the basic image 7 degrees to the left and used a delay of 30. hope this helped ^_^

4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Changes of Winter
Universe: Harry Potter
Character: Severus Snape
Type: F!Reader Insert (You, Yours)
Words: 4,020
Prompt: Hello- Idk if you're still taking requests for Snape but could you possibly do one kinda based off the song Heather by Conan Gray? Like reader and snape are students and she likes him but hes too hooked on Lily to notice? Maybe even ending with like some fluff and them getting together in the end? Idk- up to you! And sorry if you weren't taking requests I dont mean to be a bother. (Sometimes I mix posts up where people say they are taking requests and not) 😅
Notes: Am I obsessed with snow and winter??? Maybe... Are y’all obsessed with Snape? YES, I HAVE SO MANY SNAPE REQUESTS! 😂 I haven’t proofread this guys I’m sorry! Some platonic Lupin in here for you too!
Enjoy!
-
“Are you cold?” You were torn from watching your breath disappear with the cold but gentle breeze. Your feet shifted and creaked in the snow as you turned to see Severus approach you with a book tucked into his chest.
“Severus,” You gasped softly and smiled, taking a moment to release your breath slowly, “It is snowing.” You stated the obvious as if he didn’t notice and he smirked at your sarcasm.
“I can see that. Where’s your scarf?” He frowned when you averted your eyes then turned towards the lake.
“Out there somewhere.” You shrugged and shivered the cold from your bones.
“Why is it out there?” He ducked to catch your gaze and you glanced sheepishly at him.
“I may have said some things to some people in defence yesterday. So they may have decided to push me and my scarf into the lake...” You smiled awkwardly and he sighed.
“Is that why a certain someone went to the infirmary with a broken nose last night?” He raised his brow.
“Yes. Yes it is. I have detention later so...” You didn’t quite get away with your crimes and he sighed again as he always did when you got yourself in trouble, it almost got longer as each year was passing. You tried to laugh it off but a shiver crept over you instead. Severus saw this and removed his scarf then held it out to you. You stared at the scarf draped over his palms and tried to decline but he stepped forwards and stapled it around your shoulders instead, flicking one end over your shoulder to loop around your neck. His scent immediately filled your nostrils and ran through every fibre of your being as you subconsciously hugged it closer to you.
“Thank you.” You muttered through the fabric, hiding the huge grin plastered across your face. For a moment you had not locked gaze with each other as he earnestly muttered a ‘You’re welcome.’ Yet, as quick as the gaze had lasted, his eyes fell behind you and his whole form softened. You took a moment to register his distraction and followed his gaze to a plume of red hair that fluttered gently against the shoulders of none other than Lily Evans.
Even you were taken aback by her beauty sometimes, you couldn’t really blame Severus or anyone else for that fact in being completely enthralled by her. You couldn’t help the jealousy you felt and how you envied her. You wished Severus looked at you like that. You wished you could distract him simply by walking into his view. You wished you were Lily Evans.
Then again, you watched James trail behind her, pushing every compliment under the sun at her. That you could do without if you were her but you weren’t her and never would be, especially in Severus’ eyes.
Her eyes flickered over to Severus and she smiled, adjusted her course and made her way over. Your chin fell to your chest and you sighed as she greeted you both. Severus returned his sentiments but before you could even half ass some form of greeting, James spoke up.
“Aren’t you supposed to be staying away from me?” He puffed his chest out and you turned and lifted your head to meet him.
“You came to me.” You folded your arms as you stood your ground.
“You did break his nose.” Lily stated, not defensively but casually.
“He pushed me into the lake.” You defended yourself.
“Because you punched him.” She stated again and you stifled a bemused laugh and looked at James who saw he had been caught in a lie.
“Is that what you’re telling people?” You laughed once again, “Is it too embarrassing to tell people that I was standing up for my friend,” You motioned briefly to Severus, “as you belittled him and you got so angry that you pushed me into the lake? So hard that I broke the ice and cracked my wand. Might even have drowned if Remus hadn’t pulled me out.” You stared him down- hard, making him regret ever bringing it up in the first place as Lily turned slowly to him.
“You said it was in self defence.” She folded her arms.
“It was!” He insisted.
“Of what? Your pride?” She scolded him and they started arguing so you turned to Severus again.
“You were defending me?” He spoke immediately.
“Of course. I don’t like people talking about you like that.” You cleared your throat awkwardly. He opened his mouth to say something but his gaze once again wandered over to Lily, which honestly at this point was annoying. She had started walking away, telling James to leave her alone and that she had just wanted to talk to Severus in peace. You looked back to Severus who stared longingly after her, almost pained.
“Go.” You told him and after a beat, he was following her leaving you alone to sigh through the pain you felt.
-
You understood he had known Lily a little longer than you, but she wasn’t really there for him as much. You assumed that with each passing year he would get over her a little more but not once did his admiration for her dwindle. Even as she got together with James he still felt a burning desire for her.
Now that they were together, Severus had less time to spend with her, uninterrupted time anyway and he would find himself moping about it around you. He would never expressly talk about it, come to think of it he had never even mentioned the fact that he even liked her but you knew it and you knew what pain he was feeling just by looking at him because you were feeling that same pain. The only difference being that he was bitter about it, his pain made him bitter and resentful which was difficult to deal with. Half of the time you would tell him to let things be and not be so bitter but he would either end up storming off or resigning himself to complete silence for the rest of the time spent together.
The more this happened, the more you thought about distancing yourself from him, as painful as it would be it had to be less painful than watch him fall and break for another woman that wasn’t you. There were times you were almost successful in breaking away but watching his heart break with nobody to fall on felt worse. Really you were all he had, not that either of you really knew it.
You found yourself feeling more alone despite deciding to stay close with him still, especially when he would get angry and storm off, leaving you alone for a few days until he decided to speak to you again.
It was one of those days where Severus was off elsewhere, possibly cursing you judging by how your day had gone. Everything seemed to have gone wrong, nothing major but all these little things had built up which in turn built up your frustration. In your free period you decided to sit by the lake to read and breath in the autumn air that was quickly being chased away by the sting of winter.
“Bit cold down here for you to be sat on the ground isn’t it?” The voice of Remus Lupin made you jump and you leapt to your feet.
“I came here for peace until you came.” You put your hand on your hip.
“I came here for peace too.” He took a step towards you and you stepped back. He raised his hands as if he was taking a wild animal. “Calm down.” He chuckled.
“Forgive me for not trusting any of you snakes around lakes.” You weren’t really being rude but you did have a point. You found Remus to be the more tolerable of his little group, he was paired with you in some of your classes and you found he had a pretty decent sense of humour.
“I don’t blame you really.” He laughed and sat down next to where you had been perched against a tree, pulled out a book then patted the space next to him. You rolled your eyes and went and sat next to him, flipping your own book to the page you had been on before. You both read in silence for a while until he sighed.
“I am sorry that they’re rude to you.” He turned to you with furrowed brows.
“So you keep saying.” You spoke flatly, not bringing your eyes away from your book. Truthfully he would always apologise for anything that happened to you on behalf of his friends.
“I do mean it though.” He said sincerely but what difference would that make.
“No offence Remus but it means nothing coming from someone who did nothing. Nothing to me yes, but do you say anything about it to them? I don’t suppose you do. Besides, I’m not the one who should be getting the apology in the first place.” He knew you meant Severus. Severus got it worse than anyone in that school.
“I know...” He whispered and you fell into silence while reading again.
He walked you back to the castle and to your next class with him, then to the hall for lunch afterwards.
Shortly after you sat down and bid your farewells, Severus slid himself into the space next to you.
“Were you just chatting with Remus Lupin?” He asked immediately.
“Welcome back.” You simply said, waiting for his inevitable apology before doing the same thing again a week later.
-
Winter had come in thick and fast as it did every year, but seemingly quicker this year. Perhaps because it was the final year and not long until you would be done for good.
“Does she even know?” You interrupted Severus’ thoughts as he watched James and Lily dance at the Yule ball.
“Know what? I thought you weren’t coming.” He tore his eyes away from her for a split second to glance at you, taking in your dressy appearance and you sighed.
“You’ve been badgering me all week to come so you wouldn’t be alone. It’s our last year here you know and there’s not much left of it at that.” You twiddled your thumbs nervously as you watched him carefully and leaned up against the wall.
“What are you getting at?” He suddenly snapped his head towards you and you averted your eyes momentarily, trying to bide your own time and calm your nerves somehow.
“I don’t know. It’s just been a long time Severus. Perhaps it’s time to let go.” You barely whispered but he knew what you said, perhaps ignoring it this time because it was Christmas and he did not want to storm off on you now. Though in reality you were perhaps talking more to yourself than you were to him in the first place.
A shadow cast itself between the two of you then and you looked to see Remus stood to the side of you.
“Can I help you?” You asked a little amused at the odd smile that graced his lips.
“I came to ask you for a dance.” He announced almost smugly.
“Is this a joke?” You looked around him for his friends, trying to catch a glimpse of them snickering away somewhere.
“No.” He had a goofy smile on his face that you were still trying to decide if it was genuine or not..
“Drunk?” You narrowed your eyes in amusement.
“A little.” He admitted with a chuckle.
“That explains it.” You laughed and glanced at Severus who still had his eyes on his prize but was listening in for sure because he rolled his eyes at Remus’ demeanour.
“Aw come on, I would actually like to dance with you. I thought we were getting on!” He slurred slightly and you started to wonder where he was finding whatever alcohol he had been getting at, perhaps it would have helped your nerves.
“Yeah I guess you’re right.” You had to admit you had become quite accustomed to his company.
“Yes! And I saved your life once so let’s say you owe me.” He flicked a finger gun my way and I laughed again.
“Alright. So if I get up and dance with you, and it’s all one big joke, you know I’ll break your arm right?” You shifted your body in preparation to follow him.
“I promise you, I just want to dance.” He said earnestly and held his hand out to you. With a quick glance at Severus who was still engrossed elsewhere, you took his hand.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You pushed yourself from the wall and saw Severus out the corner of your eye finally turn to look at you as Remus towed you away.
That had been the last time you had seen Severus as your friend before school ended, the next time you had seen him you had gotten into a big argument with him about the whole ordeal. He wasn’t happy that you’d made friends with the likes of him let alone danced with him. You said he was being stupid and you defended Remus for not playing a part in the teasing and bullying but as you had said to Remus, he hadn’t tried to stop it, so you supposed Severus had every right to be mad.
-
If you’d have known he would end up being a Professor at Hogwarts with you perhaps you wouldn’t have accepted the position but then again, Dumbledore practically begged you to come and it couldn’t all be bad could it? It would be easy enough to avoid him or ignore him for the most part, aside from your gut practically kicking you every time you saw him.
There was a full moon out and you needed moon water so you chucked a warm robe on and meandered down to the lake, perhaps your favourite place despite almost dying in it. You opened your pouch of empty vials and crouched by the water, taking your time to carefully bottle the water and take in the crisp autumn air of September.
A shadow came over you and you moved slightly to glance at the reflection in the water.
“Severus.” Your heart stopped for a moment and you almost choked on the breath you didn’t even know you held. You stared at each other through the reflection of the lake for a while, neither knowing what to say. You were shocked he had approached you and perhaps he was a little shocked too, only that he was bold enough to do it.
You studied his features that had grown stronger as he had matured and he studied your own features, each of you coming to rest in the eyes that had not changed really, only that his held a different expression as they watched you now. Mind you it had been a while since you’d seen eachother.
He crouched beside you and held his hand out beside you, after a moment you passed him one of your empty vials which he promptly filled as you placed the bag between you so he could help. A silence fell between you for a while. Not an awkward silence but it was fairly jarring.
Once your vials were full he pulled out a different shape and sized vial and rolled it between his fingers before finally looking at you to tell him what you wanted in those. You looked at the vial then slowly at him, finally seeing not just a reflection.
“Mugwort.” You practically whispered and he raised his brow.
“I have Mugwort you know.” He pursed his lips.
“I like to do my own foraging. Besides I’m willing to bet you’re the kind of man who resents anyone coming to you for supplies.” You mirrored his expression.
“I know.” He thought for a moment, “You’re right, yes.” A very low chuckle escaped him, almost as quiet as a breeze but you heard it and things felt almost normal- too normal. You could feel yourself melting for him all over again, not that you didn’t melt when you saw him around but the acknowledgement of eachother changed the whole thing and it scared you. The small smile that had graced your lips watching him chuckle crept away, as if your memory had been wiped.
“You should know... I..” He trailed off and looked at the ground between you with his brows furrowed as he tried to speak. He took a breath and calmed himself before looking dead into your eyes.
“I really made a mess with you. I wish I hadn’t gotten so angry for no reason.” This was his attempt at making amends- beginning to at least.
“I understand.” You assured him you bore no I’ll will against him for his anger, after all you had understood why he was angry.
“It’s not just that really, I suppose. I wish I’d seen you more.” He was being very cryptic. What he was saying was difficult for him and though didn’t quite know what he was saying, you understood that he was trying to talk sensitively which was hard for him.
“Right?” You pressed him, ignoring the knot in your stomach.
“I’ve missed you.” He sighed, deciding he had said enough for now but it wasn’t the end of it. You on the other hand were lost. You hadn’t expected something like that from him but not only that, all hopes of forgetting him and moving on vanished like a shooting star. Would you let yourself be drawn back in by him? Of course you would. Who were you kidding?
“I missed you too.” You practically clawed for breath trying to respond to him then he smiled. A small smile but it was there, and it was beautiful .
-
For almost a month you we talking regularly like old friends again but something seemed wrong. There were some things he wasn’t telling you and you knew it. You didn’t want to ask him nor did you want to pressure him but you became increasingly agitated be this niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that something was off but you pushed it down further and further but you felt the need to be close to him, increasingly so. Perhaps it was your lovesick ways coming back stronger everyday though deep down you knew it was something else. You asked him to spend Hallowe’en with you rather randomly although he knew it was perhaps your favourite time of the year so he agreed.
The feeling you had got worse and worse that week until the Hallowe’en feast came and it disappeared completely. Even the fact that Severus was not in attendance hadn’t phased you much because you would see him that night but the night came and you did not see him. You decided to take a trip to his room to see what was up but on your way there an overwhelming sense of dread and misery washed over you, stopping you dead in your tracks and clinging to the bannister of the staircase for support. You heaved yourself to stand straight and found yourself marching to the Headmasters office where you slumped against the door and knocked repeatedly. The door opened and your arm flew across the frame to keep yourself steady.
“Are you alright my dear?” Immediately Albus’ arms came to support you.
“Something is very wrong. I came to find Severus, I don’t know why I’m here.” You were oddly calm for someone practically panicking internally. It was an odd sensation.
“Come inside.” He led you into his office and sat you down asking why you thought something was wrong.
“I can feel it. I’ve felt this odd sense of dread for a while now until this morning when it left. Not five minutes ago did it come back worse than ever and I feel... Pained.” You thought about the feeling for a moment. Yes it was pain you felt now and Albus’ stared at you for a long time until he closed his eyes.
“It isn’t my place to speak for Severus so you must ask him but I can tell you this, He is going to need you more than he ever has now. Not as a second choice but as the only one he has ever needed truly.” You were absolutely baffled by what he said. It made no sense but all you knew was that Severus needed you.
“Should I go to him?” You whispered and he shook his head.
“I would advise you not to. He will return soon then I will take my leave.” You nodded slowly as he spoke.
“Might I stay here until he returns?” You asked flatly and stared at his desk.
“Of course.” He touched your hand.
You had fallen asleep at some point waiting for him, the numbness putting you to sleep but you woke up to Severus gently touching your shoulder with no sign of Albus.
“I’m sorry I missed Hallowe’en with you.” He sounded exhausted.
“It’s alright. What happened to you?” You had your head tilted back and looked directly into his eyes.
“Come.” He instructed and walked you to his living quarters where he sat you down next to him on a small sofa. He explained to you that Lily and James had been murdered by Lord Voldemort. He continued to explain his own hand in the scheme and some things you’d never expected nor wanted to hear. Though you were glad he seemed on the right path.
“I’m sorry, Severus. I know she meant the world to you.” You gently placed your hand in his in comfort but he flipped his palm up to take hold of your hand instead.
“I loved her, yes. She was not the one for me however. I ignored everything from you, even when it was my own pain I felt being mirrored back to me and I only came to realise that when you left to dance with that Lupin boy. I was angry at myself for not seeing you there all those years and I still took it out on you, as if you hadn’t tried. I suppose I’m telling you this now so no matter what you think about my choices right now, at least one of us got to say something.” You’d never heard him ramble like that before, only when he was arguing but this was a different type.
“It’s a lot to take in, Sev. I can’t deny that I’m happy you told me all that and frustrated that it took so long to get to this moment plus with all the extra information.” You paused for a moment and watched him retract his excitement from the situation. “I’ll adjust though. For now let’s take it one step at a time though?” You proposed and he nodded, a small smile creeping across his face but it was shadowed by the events of earlier.
“I’ll stay with you.” You whispered and leaned over to him, gently wrapping your arms over his shoulders and kissing his cheek. Neither of you knew how long you could stay with him but one step at a time right?
137 notes
·
View notes
Text
this is much less thought through compared to my list for hope and tbh, i’m lowkey considering doing a full rewatch of tvd/to to help get some more ideas, so these are even more generic
bonnie
for the love of all that is the tiniest bit holy, give bonnie one of those ships. you know which ones i’m talking about!! i genuinely don’t think i have a notp for her and my interpretation is very morally gray (so lowwwwwkey give her someone who appeals to that darkness a bit maybe?), idk mostly just give her some happiness??
jeremy
jeremy’s bisexual awakening (you think i’m joking but we all know it was tyler lockwood)
grumpy hunter jeremy who randomly shows up at salvatore once a month to drag alaric out and makes sure he showers and gets away from the school before dumping him at damon and elena’s for the day
uncle jeremy with his favorite pseudo-nieces, josie and lizzie
coda
either hayley or even keelin taking coda under their wing after they learn of the aftermath of the hollow’s rampage. could be one of the many reasons hayley really takes a leadership role after the mikaelsons split up after TO S4
if you don’t acknowledge the hollow storyline, coda’s backstory could be changed up so that she was orphaned when kingmaker development hunted down the pack while they were cursed by dahlia. either way, the idea is that her story touches on themes of community and generosity, while she also plays a foil to hope, as someone who lost everything due to the mikaelsons’ story but she still has to find a way to move on anyways
coda at salvatore and interacting with the squad bc that would be fun. maybe she gets sent with henry and hope when they’re seven, maybe she shows up after hope is revealed to be a mikaelson, but interesting to see how the squad reacts to someone who has known hope in a completely different context
coda just annoying hope. the end.
elijah
series of letters over the years between elijah and hope, hayley, rebekah, freya, klaus, anyone after the events of to s4. please do not make this man suffer alone with his thoughts. he will go through so many home improvement projects that the south of france will look like a completely rebuilt area by the time he’s done.
post-series threads where elijah lurks like a maddeningly well-dressed english professor near whitmore and spoils his niece (but also bc it’s me, he’s probably doing research on how to eliminate all threats ever and also how to stick hope in a magical bubble without her knowledge)
freya
idk to even call this an au or a divergent verse or what but imagining a ship (prob a vampire?) where it’s a slow burn of finding each other every century, dodging dahlia, the angst of only having one year together at a time, etc etc etc. she lived through so much but also not really? so it’d be half period au in the way we can jump all over the timeline (basically anything post her baby dying), half canon-compliant? like eventually we could sync up with canon and introduce the rest of the mikaelsons and see what spins up from there? does this make sense to anyone other than my brain lmao?
vampire freya - either she turned so klaus could stay with hayley and hope after to s4 or one of the family’s enemies catches up to her and forces a turn to remove their magical help, or some other way, she’s undead now. it’s bittersweet because she sorely misses her magic but at the same time, she doesn’t have to grow old without her siblings either. she doesn’t know what to think about it, but she has to figure it out eventually.
alternatively, she got turned into a vampire sometime before the series starts and she was able to live life freely away from dahlia for the first time in her life, and she doesn’t have to worry about having a child anymore, which makes her effectively useless to her aunt now, but once hope is born, freya has to actually meet her family and try to convince them that she is who she says she is, idk that’s all i’ve got rn
hayley
verses where hayley never died, verses where hayley is resurrected, verses where hayley is the best mom for hope, anything that lets her have the life with hope that she deserves.
hayley / caroline / klaus co-parenting shenanigans. make it poly if so inclined.
keelin
slow burn freelin. a version where keelin is actually around in the years during the hollow because as wanderlust-y as she is, she’s not going to just abandon freya like please
keelin talking to hayley (or any other werewolf) about their differences in opinions about the wolf. keelin remembers her entire family being hunted down by lucien castle and how being a wolf never brought her anything but pain, yet at the same time, she does feel a disconnect to a huge part of who she is. someone to help her bridge that gap and her fear and showing her that her wolf side isn’t something to be feared or shunned
vincent
things with freya and/or keelin. nik could exist or not, i just enjoy that relationship a lot
the city holding vincent responsible for the hollow’s initial bid for power, and maybe he can’t be removed as regent but exploring a broken trust (especially in the years between s4 and s5) and how he has to overcome that to win back people’s backing
#[ wishlist. ]#okay i did it finally#kinda sorta#here is the haphazard vision#lmk if you're interested in any of these
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Phantom of the Opera but Taakitz
In which Kravitz fails pretty spectacularly at Phantoming but he’s trying very hard. Taako fails at “damsel-in-distress”-ing but to be fair he’s not really trying.
My parents were watching Phantom and my brain went taakitz because you know... spooky one and pretty one. But then I had to make it fit, and idk y’all. It’s pure silliness. Lmk if you want a kissin’ part bc if you do I have like 1/3 of that written. Thanks to @fandomsnstuff for encouraging me in every way to post XD
@herbgerblin >:333
*~*~*~*~*
Taako woke up not knowing where he was.
Which was, to begin with, just a massive red flag.
His head hurt. He felt heavy. And where the fuck was he? All he could see was grimy stone brick, and on them, softly flickering candlelight - and the sound of - was that water? He was having a hard time breathing - Lup’s fucking corset, he swore this was the last time she convinced him to take place in some fucking hairbrained scheme -
He shoved himself up to sitting and was immediately assaulted by a voice -
“LUP TAACO, I HAVE BROUGHT YOU HERE TO -”
“What the fuck?!” Taako shouted, leaping to his feet, and then the fucking skirts got tangled and then the floor underneath him tipped -
And taako was wet. He was in water, in all these fucking skirts and he was wet and Lup was going to pay for this.
He pushed himself up again, sputtering, and thank god it wasn’t very deep, he didn’t know what he’d do if was forced to swim in this ridiculous outfit -
The voice came again.
“MISS TAACO, YOU HAVE BEEN SUMMONED TO THIS SANCTUARY OF MUSIC TO-”
“I’M NOT LUP!!” Taako shouted desperately, just to get it to shut up, the voice that was splitting his fucking head in two, and trying to arrange the soaking wet gown into some semblance of order, and he didn’t know where he was, and he woke up here, which was just - there was something immensely wrong with that because Taako didn’t remember going to sleep.
“TO- I’m sorry?”
“I’m not Lup!!” Taako shouted again, throwing his hands up in frustration, and giving up on the stupid dress, and looking toward the direction of the candlelight, and the whoever was standing there screaming at him, and - huh.
A man, half his face obscured by a mask meant to look like a skeleton, in a suit that looked more at home at the opera (where Taako was a moment ago - or it seemed a moment) than - was this a fucking sewer? - and a full on-cloak atop that, and a fucking ridiculous hat-
As Taako’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see more of the man’s face, which was, even with the one eye obscured, contorted into an expression of confusion.
He may have registered, distantly, that he also looked rather handsome, but fuck that honestly, because Lup’s corset was cutting into his side and he was wet and - and his brain wasn’t working. He was in the opera house, and then Lup - Lup had begged him to switch clothes because please< Taako, I can’t get Grimaldis to quit following me, please, just to throw him off - and then he was going out the stage door, but he didn’t get there… he didn’t get there because-
“Did you fucking kidnap me?!” he shouted.
“I - I didn’t - you’re not Lup Taaco?”
“No!! Fucking - look at me!” he gestured to the ruined dress, the way it hung, now clearly fitting ill - “Do I look like Lup to you?!”
“Yes! Well, no, I mean, but you - but you- you’re wearing her clothes!” The man sputtered.
“And?!” Taako shouted, “you don’t fucking know me, kemosabe! I can wear whatever the hell I like!” The man, whoever he was, was standing on some kind of shore, and Taako, sick of standing in waist-deep water, started hauling up his skirts and wading toward it. “And that’s another thing! Who are you to fucking - get off kidnapping my sister?!”
“I - No!” Tuxedo Man said, stumbling back further from the shore as Taako advanced, “it’s not like that, I - I can see where you’d think, but I - I didn’t want to -”
“Didn’t want to what?!” Taako continued, finally stepping out of the water, the heavy gown dripping on the stone, so much heavier soaked like this. Taako couldn’t take it anymore. If he had to fight this motherfucker over his sister’s honor or whatever, he wasn’t going to do it in a goddamn evening gown. He started tearing at the clasps at back of it, the ties, anything to get the fucking thing off of him.
“You mistake me for my fucking sister,” he fumed, “which firstly, you’re stalking my sister, apparently, so you’re gonna fucking die - and then you -what? Fucking chloroform me and drag me to some kind of sewer sex-dungeon god knows where, what am I supposed to think?!” The outer-most layer of the gown finally came off, and Taako flung it into the water behind him because honestly fuck this.
“No!” the masked man said, shaking his head furiously, “I didn’t - I didn’t mean anything untoward!”
“I think kidnapping is pretty untoward-”
“I wasn’t going to do anything to - I don’t - it’s not a sex dungeon!” he cried, “I don’t even like her!”
“OH?!” Taako said, and god, he wished he could get the corset off, because he was really running out of breath with all the shouting - “what’s your name, thug, because I’m about to-”
“Kravitz, but - Wait! No! I - I - please don’t, I didn’t mean any harm, I was - I was just trying to give her a violin lesson!”
“Give my sister a violin lesson?” Taako growled, “She’s the goddamn concert master of the Paris Opera I think she knows how to play the violin pretty fucking well-”
“It’s just the solo in the third scene of act five!” Kravitz pleaded, actually pleaded, and Taako supposed that was a point in his favor somehow, but still, “She - she keeps - the phrasing is all wrong, and it’s the climax of the piece, and I couldn’t stand it-”
“So you were going to kidnap her?” Taako said, completely dumb with disbelief because who did this motherfucker think he was - “Who are you to give notes on her fucking performance, huh?”
“I’m the composer!” Kravitz said, throwing up his hands.
That stopped Taako in his tracks, because what? Of all the off the wall lies to get him off the hook, that’s what spooky Kravitz went with? The composer of the opera taking Paris by storm. The opera that just had its run extended another two months. And sure, sure he might as well fight the skull-mask man in the fucking - sewers, he guessed, while wearing his sister’s evening wear, the composer of her fucking opera, who wanted to kidnap her for a violin lesson in the sewer because sure! Taako’s life was already so goddamn weird, he figured this might as well happen too, why the hell not?
Maybe he didn’t wake up at all. Maybe this was all one horrible, drawn-out nightmare. Maybe he’d been hit over the head and this was his brain’s last fanciful imagining before he went out.
He buried his face in his hands, tried to breathe deeply. And then couldn’t. Because of the corset.
Ok, he thought, if this is a dream, it has to end now, because I figured it out. I’m dreaming. Time to wake up.
He counted to five and then peeked out from between his fingers. Spooky skele-man Kravitz was still looking at him. In the moment, without all the screaming, Taako managed to just get a better look at him. He was leaning back against something that looked like a manual for an organ. Weird, but then again, no weirder than the whole. Sewer-dwelling skeleton thing.
There were a few things Taako could do. He could fight the skeleton composer man, who, the more Taako looked, didn’t cut nearly as imposing of a figure as he did a moment ago. Or he could play things out.
The thing was, Taako wasn’t particularly a fighter. And Kravitz the skele-man had kidnapped him once that evening. And getting flustered when Taako shouted at him didn’t mean that he wasn’t capable of taking Taako if he made good on his threats.
And Taako was tired.
Taako sighed, removed his hands from his face. Pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so tired. His head felt like someone had reached down into it and was pulling it slowly apart from each side.
“Uhm,” Kravitz said, “are you alright?”
“No,” Taako groused, and then sighed. He removed his hand. “I would love to kick your ass, darling, because no one stalks my sister and lives, but first,” he gestured to the whole… rest of his get-up. “Would you mind lending a guy a hand in getting this off? It’s fucking cold and ‘chaboy’s gettin’ real tired of not being able to take a complete breath.”
“I’m sorry?” Kravitz squeaked. His voice sounded about two octaves higher than before. His eyes, just for a moment, flickered over Taako’s body, panicked, and - well. That was interesting, wasn’t it.
“The clothes, Kravitz,” Taako said, purposely evoking his name. “Please? I’m wet as all hell and fucking freezing, and if I’m gonna throw you in this water and drown you or something I’d like to at least have a decent range of mobility so if you wouldn’t mind-”
“Um,” Kravitz said, “Please don’t drown me?”
“Gimme that cloak to wear and we’ll see,” Taako said back. Fuck, his head hurt. He was too tired for this.
“I can - I can actually do you one better, if you need me to. I have um…. men’s clothing around the corner if you’d prefer-”
“Fucking fantastic, skeletor, just get a move on.”
“Oh. Alright then, um. Follow me?”
And Taako did. Kravitz pushed himself off the organ and moved to his left, and sure enough, there was something like a corner, and a sort of tunnel, lower-ceilinged, and in it was - well, practically an entire apartment’s worth of furniture, all arranged just-so, with candles perched all about on tables and sconces on the walls. The place was drafty but all the same, it looked quite like Kravitz had made it into a perverted imitation of a home.
Beside the frankly absurd number of candles, and the lakeside organ, there was a series of screens, separating out the space where walls did not. Rugs, slightly tattered and faded. Old brocade armchairs that didn’t match. A desk, ink and pen sitting atop it with scattered papers, and, in the last “chamber” of the long, successive home, a bed and chests in something that looked quite almost like a bedroom.
Kravitz turned around and regarded Taako with a fair measure of confusion as though unsure exaclty what to do next, but after a moment, he fumbled with his gloved hands around his neckline, until he was able to untie the cloak from around his shoulders. He thrust it toward Taako, quite sheepish-looking now behind his half-mask.
“Here,” he said. “You can um… use it to cover up, while I - find you some clothes.”
“Corset first, bones,” Taako said, only just in a small part to watch him squirm. Sex-dungeon indeed. Taako was feeling out the boundaries of the conversation and Kravitz was bashful, of all things. Probably not kidnapping Lup for - well. Probably not that then. Maybe the violin lesson wasn’t an excuse after all.
Taako was beginning to think Kravitz was… well. For lack of a better term, somewhat pathetic. Maybe just insane.
Still, he’d do. All Taako needed was an extra pair of hands. He turned around, back to Kravitz and facing one of the screens. “Help me outta this. I’m not used to the lacing and I need some more eyes. Might have to take the gloves off though. Dexterity, and all that.” That he did say to be mean.
“Oh. Um, yes of course,” Kravitz said, and Taako felt as much as heard him walk up to his back, closer than he’d yet been. Taako felt his hands pulling at the lacing of the corset, felt something come undone, and the constriction lesson by degrees. He pulled in a deep breath. It was heavenly.
For a moment, something frigid brushed against Taako’s back, and he jumped. “Christ!” Kravitz withdrew; Taako could feel that sixth sense of proximity dissipate.
“Sorry,” Kravitz said. “Poor circulation.” His voice was so much softer than before. Something in Taako’s chest twisted at the sound of it. “You should… you should be able to remove the rest of it, now. I can- I’ll get you some clothes. Oh, um.” There was a moment of hesitation from behind him, then he felt the weight of something thick and soft drape over his shoulders, felt Kravitz withdraw again. The cloak. He’d draped it over Taako’s shoulders. It was surprisingly soft. Heavy, too. Warm. Probably did him some good down here.
“There, you can - I’ll get you something to change into.”
Taako felt strangely hot. He busied himself pulling the rest of Lup’s clothes off of him, shivering as they hit the floor with wet slaps. Good god, it really was cold in Kravitz’s - dungeon… or whatever. Even with the many candle flames all around. Removing the corset was a blessing, though. Taako drew in several deep luxurious breaths, pausing in his undressing to stretch. He could hear Kravitz rummaging around in the trunks and chests behind him.
And the rummaging stopped.
“I’m just going to uh… leave these on the bed?” Kravitz’s voice came, “I’ll. I’ll leave you to it,” and he slipped out between a couple of screens, and Taako was alone in his… in his bedroom. In the bedroom of a mysterious masked man who somehow knocked Taako out, dragged him to god only knew where, shouted at him for being Lup and then seemed, inexplicably, very apologetic the moment Taako called him on it.
He supposed stranger things had happened to him in his life.
Then he thought again, and no, they hadn’t.
It was almost disconcertingly silent on the other side of the screen. Taako wrapped the cloak around himself properly, stepping out of the last of Lup’s clothes, and left them in a heap on the floor as he turned around and moved to the bed. He dressed quickly (Kravitz’s clothes weren’t a perfect fit but they worked well enough), draped the cloak around his shoulders to keep out the persistent chill in the air, and stepped out from the screen. Kravitz was standing in the middle of what looked like his sitting room, as though he was waiting for Taako.
Taako crossed his arms.
Kravitz began to speak.
“Mister Taaco,” he said, “you have come to know too much of my domain. I cannot allow-”
“So,” Taako interrupted him, “Are we gonna throw down or what? I promised you an ass-kicking on account of defending my sister’s honor and all.”
Kravitz paused, and Taako could practically feel the frustration coming off of him. “I shall not be taking orders -”
“What happened to your voice?” Taako asked, cutting him off again, because god, what was he doing? “Is that a Cockney accent? What are you going for here?”
“This is how I speak-”
“My dude, we literally had a conversation without you going all Charles Dickens on me like not five minutes ago-”
“Could you let me finish?!” Kravitz finally snapped, accentless once more. “For once?! Please?!”, and Taako just waited, and watched as Kravitz realized what he’d done, as his whole schtick disintegrated before his eyes. “Oh goddamnit all,” he said, throwing up his hands in defeat.
Taako couldn’t help but smile.
“Really nailing it on the whole spooky sinister vibe, my fella,” he said. “Really knocking it out of the park on that one.”
One hand came up to cover Kravitz’s face, laying over his half mask and eyes. Almost like pinching the bridge of his nose.
“It doesn’t usually go like this,” he sighed.
“How do the kidnappings usually go?” Taako teased. And god, what was he doing? He needed to get out of here. It was just that -
“I’m really more adept at hauntings,” his host said forlornly. “The abduction angle is new.”
It was just that everything Kravitz said was stranger, more unexpected, more absurd, more interesting than the last. And… strangely funny. It caught strange corners of Taako’s brain and captured his attention, raising flags and illuminating pathways that he wanted to go down-
But that didn’t mean he wanted to stay. In the dank candlelit sewer, with Kravitz, who, while it was clear he wasn’t a very skilled kidnapper and - whatever his thing was supposed to be here - had still been good enough to get Taako in the first place. And, atop that, was a person who’d just admitted to kidnapping Taako. And who seemed not to be terribly… thrown by the thought of it. Taako didn’t know anyone - well, until now - who seemed to view unwilling abduction as a done thing. No one Taako knew really considered that socially acceptable.
It reminded him that Kravitz, while… intriguing, was by no means safe.
It reminded him that he still needed to get the hell out of there.
“Well,” he started, “the whole production could use some work, kemosabe. Points for the aesthetic,” he gestures vaguely to Kravitz’s getup, and the whole… opulent sewer situation, “but really, Taako’s rating this one a ‘room for improvement’ situation. Nice try, though, points for effort,” he cast his eyes around as he rambled, trying to see if there were any visible exits, but the only way he could see was back the way he came in - through Kravitz’s “house” - past Kravitz.
Nothing for it but to try, he thought.
“Thanks a bunch,” he said, inching forward, “glad to be of assistance workshopping - well, no, not glad, really - but I uh… I’m going to need to be on my way.” He stepped forward, purposeful. Kravitz countered, stepping in front of him, blocking his path. Shit.
“I am terribly sorry,” he said, and the thing was he actually sounded it, “but I really can’t let you do that.”
#phantom of the opera au#taz balance#taakitz#taako taaco#kravitz#silliness hours#hey guys? i love them#also taako got accidentally kidnapped and Kravitz was Not Ready for A+ Elf Rage#He was expecting a trembling damsel#he doesn't realize he got the easy version#imagine if he'd actually got lup#She wouldn't've waited to kill him until after a carefully engineered homoerotic intricate ritual#is this a carefully constructed distraction from the fact that i'm not posting longfic?#yes
334 notes
·
View notes
Text
Macarons and Chill
My first BakuCamie fic!! Hope you guys enjoy 🤗 Also cross posted on FF.N and AO3!
Summary: In which Bakugo and Camie try to make macarons in the midst of a global pandemic.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick you out of my goddamn apartment, woman.” Bakugo snarls as he nearly rips the door off its hinges.
Camie merely blinks, clearly nonplussed by his tone. “Chill, Bakubae. I’m not even inside yet. Were you trying to hide your porn stash?”
“Can’t you see I’m in the fucking middle of something?!” Bakugo ignores her obvious jibe.
It’s only then Camie registers his uncharacteristically disheveled appearance. Donned in a black tank top that was smeared with flour and an orange Ground Zero apron that hung haphazardly on his hips, Bakugo looks positively dripping with annoyance. His already unkempt hair is matted in several different directions and if Camie didn't know any better, she would say that whatever he was attempting to bake was currently besting him.
Despite the atmosphere of the room, Camie pushes her way around Bakugo and flounces into the living room. “Ojamashimasu!” She sings as she kicks off her shoes in a hurry and practically runs into the kitchen.
“Fuck me, right?” Bakugo mutters as he bends down to fix her shoes so that they were perfectly aligned. She had been appearing more times on his doorstep than he cared for during this whole quarantine bullshit yet still didn’t have the decency to pick up after herself. “Oi, get out the hell out of my kitchen before you ruin shit!”
Camie turns around, already tugging on a bubblegum pink apron that Bakugo definitely does not keep around just for her. She juts out her lower lip. “I'm just trying to help out my favorite next-door neighbor.” She peers over at the bowl of whipped meringue on the kitchen counter. “Macarons, Bakubro? Do you have a death wish or something? Those are like, mad hard to bake, even for you!”
Bakugo resists the urge to thump her on the head. Instead, he settled for aggressively whisking the meringue once more, nearly ripping the appliance in two. “As if I’m going to be shown up by some shitty wannabe sandwiches. Tch.”
“Ehhhh? Is that so?” Camie tip-toes to place her chin on the shoulder that wasn’t vigorously moving with his stirring. Bakugo tries to ignore how close her cheek is to his, the soft plush nearly grazing him. “Well, no doubt they’ll be totally delish when you’re done! Anything I can do to help?”
Bakugo smirks, a cocky grin splitting his face. “Fuck yeah they will be. Go pick out the food coloring.” As Camie sashays away happily (“These are totes gonna be the prettiest macarons bae!”), he tries not to let his eyes linger. It’s like Camie intentionally picks clothes that loves her as much as she loves herself, because they cling to her figure like glue.
Their relationship was… Complicated. After they both graduated high school, her a year before him, Bakugo had no intention of keeping contact with anybody, save for maybe shitty hair. What was the point? He knew he’d see his former idiots of classmates and peers eventually. They all entered the same fucking industry; if anything, he had a feeling he’d them too often. It was only by chance that he and Camie wound up at the same agency, and it was even more of a twisted fate that he had happened to be assigned to live one door down from her. Which meant slowly but surely, Camie Utsushimi forcibly wedged her and her love for K-Pop into his life (and his apartment).
He didn’t know why she was so adamant on getting to know him. At first, he had thought it was just out of the pure convenience of living so close. He figured she would lay off after shutting her out a couple times. But goddamn, this woman was persistent. When she wanted something, she sure as hell knew how to get it. And he still didn’t know what it was she wanted from him. He never knew what she was thinking, for better or for worse.
“You know what’d be lit? If you had edible glitter.” Camie sighs wistfully as she lines up the bottles of food coloring. Bakugo grimaces at the array of pinks and purples but doesn’t say anything.
“What the fuck for?” Bakugo huffs as turned the bowl upside down. A smug expression flits his face when nothing falls out, a testament to the stiff peaks of the frosting.
Camie stares at him as if he had sprouted a tail. “Hell-oh! To decorate the macarons?! Jeez Bakubae, it’s like you have no eye for pretty things in life. No wonder you haven’t asked me out on a date yet.”
Then there was that. There always seemed to be something simmering between them, and it pissed Bakugo off to no end that he couldn’t figure out what the hell it was. Irritation? Sexual tension? Both? He didn’t know when she was serious or joking when she said shit like that.
Bakugo snorts to cover his inner turmoil and sticks his hand out. Camie wordlessly passes him a small bottle of food coloring. Without even looking at the color, his hand steadies as he carefully squeezes the gel into the meringue – bright pink, he discovers. Gross. “I told you to stop calling me that.”
“You already know I’m not gonna. Am I not your type?” Camie twirls a strand of her fawn-colored hair around her finger pensively. “You’re gonna die a virgin if you don’t hop on the dating scene, you know. Such a waste of a handsome face.”
“Fuck you.” Bakugo snaps as he stirs to incorporate the color. His grip is tight around the rubber spatula. “As if you have it any better, hag. You should stop hanging around this apartment if you want to put your money where your mouth is.”
Camie sighs contemplatively. “The hero life really doesn’t allow any time for dating, huh? We sure have it rough.” She cracks her knuckles and grins. “Not that we can go on dates or anything during this quarantine. I’m lucky I have you to bother, Bakuboo!”
“Yeah, so lucky.” Bakugo mumbles sarcastically under his breath. “Gimme that bowl.”
“But like seriously, what is your type fam?” Camie asks. Bakugo dumps the dry ingredients and begins to macaronage. “For a while, I totally thought you and Deku were gonna get it on.”
“Fuck no. Weak ass Deku wouldn’t be able to handle me, I’d rock his shit.” Bakugo scoffs. Camie lets out a delighted peal of laughter at that. “Besides, I ain’t gay. Can’t speak for him though.”
Camie raises a brow. “You do know that Deku and Uraraka-san are like, def canon right?”
Bakugo hates how he knows what ‘canon’ means because of her. He grunts. “I don’t give a shit. Hand me that piping bag and a tray, quick.”
“Don’t be like that Bakubae,” Camie chides as she bends over to reach for the baking trays stashed inside his oven. He averts his eyes at the way she juts her hips and arches her back. “You noticed it too, right? All our peers are like, getting it on. I’m banking on Todomomo next.”
Bakugo works quickly to transfer the macaron batter into the piping bag. The bright pink is an eyesore and he frowns. “Like I said, I don’t give a shit.”
“You’re totes gonna care when your options dwindle down to no one.” Camie taps her nails against the counter. “And you’re already picky as it is.”
Bakugo scoffs again as he rips out a sheet of parchment paper. It tears through the air like a record scratch. “How would you know that? I haven’t said shit. For all you know, I could have a secret fetish.”
“Do you?” Camie’s voice heightens with interest. Bakugo glares at her, but the curiosity in her face doesn’t waver.
“No, you sicko. Even if I did, it’s not like I’d tell you.” Bakugo begins to pipe the macarons onto the parchment paper in earnest.
“Everyone has their kinks,” Camie sing-songs. She walks two fingers up Bakugo’s arm and he would smack her arm away if he wasn’t already preoccupied. If each macaron wasn’t exactly 1½-inches, he was going to lose his shit. “It’s only a matter of time until I find out yours, bae.”
Bakugo pipes the last macaron onto the tray and tosses the piping bag. It tumbles away on the counter, smearing pink meringue everywhere. Great. He pretends not to notice her hand still resting on his upper bicep and rolls his eyes. “Good luck with that.”
“I bet you’re really into the whole power dynamics thing.” Bakugo chokes and Camie removes her hand to place both on her hips. “Y’know, all that sub and dom stuff. Kind of a mild kink if you ask me. Personally, I’m down for whatevs but idk, I think I draw the line at tentacles, not that I judge –”
“Yeah well, luckily no one fucking asked.” Bakugo barks as he airs out the bubbles in the batter by repeatedly slamming the baking tray onto the counter. Camie yanks the tray out of his hands and begins to tap the tray much more gently. He scowls and crosses his arms. “You know an awful lot about kinks for someone who doesn’t get laid.”
Camie winks and leans forward. She purposely pushes her cleavage together so that it spills over, her up-and-down ministrations of bumping the tray against the counter making them jiggle. Bakugo stubbornly doesn’t give her the satisfaction of looking down and meets her gaze dead-on. “How do you know I’m not getting laid?”
Bakugo feels an uncomfortable twist in his chest, but the sudden anger that floods him is almost unbearable. Camie? Having a fuck buddy? The thought stamps a hot iron brand of jealousy in his stomach. What the fuck? In an instant, he sees a vision of another pair of arms wrapped around Camie’s tiny waist, kissing her, tousling her hair. A throb of possessiveness goes through him. It’s what makes him snap, “Yeah fucking right. Why the fuck are you here and not with him then?”
“I mean, we are kinda in the middle of a global pandemic.” Camie drawls. She pushes back from the macaron tray. She cocks a head and her eyes rake his face. The tension that normally simmers between them at a tolerable five has knocked its way up to an insufferable ten. “’Sides, even if I had one, I’d rather be here.”
Bakugo deflates but only slightly. The crease between his eyebrows deepen and the feelings of anger, jealousy, and irritation still make him see red. “So you don’t have one.” He says it like a statement of verification rather than a question.
“No,” Camie shakes her head. She sounds a bit breathless. “I don’t.”
In two strides, Bakugo has her pinned against the wall. Camie’s eyes are wide as she takes in his narrowed ones, zeroing in on her like prey. Her arms are locked above her head, held by Bakugo’s, and he leans dangerously close. Their noses graze and Camie barely has a second to register just how long his eyelashes are when their mouths fuse together. Bakugo isn’t gentle but he sure as hell is an amazing kisser – Camie has to hold back a chuckle. He totes has to be the best at everything, huh? He claims it all, tongue sweeping and staking hold of everything that’s hers. She can hear the subliminal message being conveyed. Mine. Mine. Mine. His hands are greedy, falling from her wrists to touching her everywhere, gripping, pulling, pinching. She scrapes her hands along the hard muscle, equally as needy and lets him take and take.
“Bakugo,” Camie finally manages to gasp as he trails down her neck, sucking, biting, kissing. She can feel her skin puckering under his assault. “The macarons –”
“Fuck ‘em.” He grunts. “They need to chill for an hour anyway.”
Sorry Todomomo, Camie thinks to herself as she grins wildly. Looks like Bakucamie’s beat you to the punch.
#BakuCamie#BakuCamie fic#My Hero Academia#Boku No Hero Academia#Bakugo Katsuki#camie utsushimi#BakuCamie fanfic#BakuCamie fan fiction#BakuCamie fanfiction#BakuCamie fic rec#BakuCamie fanfiction reccomendation#BakuCamie fanfic rec#myedits#mha camie#bnha camie#TodoMomo#IzuOcha#Bakugo is a good cook#Bakugo is bad at feelings#Jealous Bakugo
71 notes
·
View notes
Note
does this count as a meme? idk but here's some q's.
what motivates them? do they listen to their head or their heart while making a decision? talk about their mannerisms. how much do they care what people think about them? if they could go back in time and undo one of their own actions, which would it be? when was the last time they smiled? (genuinely) as a child, what were they most likely to be found doing? where do they see themselves 5 years from today? one thing they would hate anyone to know about them. what makes them feel safe?
CHARACTER FACTS MEME !
what motivates them?
spite, wanting to prove herself, and on the isle, hunger. once she stops having to worry about survival as much, she’s motivated by wanting to learn about things she was kept from, love and coffee.
do they listen to their head or their heart while making a decision?
her head, for the most part. alice is very rational and but she can be very selfish and can easily rationalize selfish or impulsive actions by coming up with logical reasoning for them even if the logic is a stretch.
talk about their mannerisms.
alice talks with her hands. when she’s excited or angry she gestures a lot. she’ll gesture with whatever’s in her hands. knife included. she rubs the scar on her palm when she’s nervous. she doesn’t hold people’s gazes but rather looks at people in increments of time. she watches her exits, always. she twists her earrings in her ears. she has a tendency to pull at her clothes, especially her jacket. she presses her lips together as if to rub her lipstick in.
how much do they care what people think about them?
sort of, she likes to think that she doesn’t but deep down she is pretty insecure. not about her looks, but about her worth. she doesn’t feel like she’s worth much if she can’t provide some kind of service or be of some kind of use. i’m not saying daddy issues, but that’s definitely where it stems from. as long as she feels like she is doing enough to be worth anything, to be worth the space she takes up really she doesn’t care what others think, but as soon as she starts doubting that she starts worrying about whether people think she’s a waste of resources, or too weak, or an easy target.
if they could go back in time and undo one of their own actions, which would it be?
she wouldn’t have stolen the jar that got her stabbed in the back and lead to her first real brush with death. (see oneshot about the incident here)
when was the last time they smiled? (genuinely)
probably having dinner with her mom, anna, kristoff and olaf. she loves her family so much.
as a child, what were they most likely to be found doing?
hiding in things. alice was tiny as a child and could just squish herself places. when she wasn’t hiding she was trying to climb things. bookshelves, buildings, her older brothers. anything she thought she could climb she did.
where do they see themselves 5 years from today?
assuming she's in arendelle, alice sees herself having her own powers under control (for the most part) and working with ben and the rest of the council to remove auradon's magic ban once and for all. she's probably still splitting her time between arendelle and auradon city, but perhaps she'll have found one place to call her home base.
one thing they would hate anyone to know about them.
how weak she can be. i have a whole post about alice’s health in my drafts that i just haven’t had the brain power to finish but, on the isle alice is functioning at 75% power on a good day, 60% on an okay day and there are just days where she feels like she just can’t breathe and where she can’t leave her bed. this was due to the barrier dampening her abilities having a physical effect on her body as well as her unrelated mental health issues. she would have hated if anyone saw her like that, or was able to see how much she has to push herself at times. she hated it, hated that that she knew she was physically weaker and tried to compensate for it whenever possible.
what makes them feel safe?
knives. well, knives and people she can trust. alice trusts weapons more than people. she always has at least two knives on her and if she doesn’t have a real one she knows how to fashion one easily enough. even in auradon she keeps knives on her. without them she’s an anxious mess and it’s really just better if she has one. her trusted circle was once only her older brothers and having them around will always be when she feels safest. that being said, when she slowly starts expanding her circle those people also become her safe space. alice feels safe in the shadows. she feels safe in the snow.
1 note
·
View note
Text
SURVIVAL GUIDE & STUDY TIPS

hello everyone!! this post is a collab with the lovely and amazing @boinkhs because we've both reached 2k followers :D she'll be doing study tips for college students and i'll be doing study tips for high schoolers. check out her post here!
i've split this into part 1. survival, which concerns how to study & learn better in general and just tips on how to get through high school. part 2. is on specific study tips for each type of subject, namely sciences, maths, languages and humanities.
Hope this helps <3

1. Don't snooze please
you just end up snoozing 5 times then you’re late for school
2. If you find you have difficulty getting out of bed, just keep in mind ONE TASK you need to do.
for example, making your bed. then you just gotta focus on that! it should help fight the sleepiness because you’re forcing your brain and limbs to be active.
3. Do the necessary things like brushing your teeth, putting on clothes and eat breakfast
i don’t know why but some people don’t eat breakfast before coming to school like ???? excuse me ???? please eat at least a small snack, or a fruit or something. your body doesnt function on an empty stomach! also, drink some water to hydrate yourself
4. On the road, you should do something that puts you in a good mood.
for me, i go straight to spotify and listen to my playlist. you should also review the previous day’s learning so that you refresh your memory before going back to class. personally this is my fav part of the day HAHAHA
5. If you like, you can choose to read a book.
just make sure you’re calm but ‘warmed up’ to focusing in a sense.

1. Hydrate frequently
idk man it just keeps you awake + i dont feel so icky if i drink enough water
2. Learn actively
if the teacher asks questions, try to answer. sit at the front row. offer to help give out the worksheets or notes. clarify your doubts after. when they speak, copy down notes. don’t worry about the aesthetic; i mean you can but you need to write fast and neat which unfortunately doesnt come together very often. i suggest you spend more brain power digesting and understanding the content.
3. Don’t over highlight
ONLY KEY POINTS that are stressed by the teacher. you can tell when their tone changes, expression changes, when they use more hand motions, or they keep repeating a few key words. yes , that. highlight that. stare at it while listening to them speak. make sure you understand. if you don’t please ask. but make sure you don’t have a fluorescent page because that’s not ideal study material!
4. Write down any questions you have
if they’re answered in the lesson, cancel them off. if not, ask after the lesson. dont be scared! *sends virtual courage*
5. Use whatever free time you have to finish homework
because you’re gonna thank yourself later. you should spend more time at home revising than doing homework. ( doing homework isnt equivalent to revising PLEASE I KNOW SO MANY PEOPLE WHO SAY THEY REVISED FOR 3 HOURS BUT ALL THEY DID WAS HOMEWORK ) also it feels better knowing you have one less thing to worry about
6. Record down all assignments, due dates and test dates
do it in a planner or your phone. doesn’t matter just keep them somewhere. it can be demoralising to see an entire entry of shit to get done but still it’s better than not knowing what needs to be done. ignorance is NOT bliss. try to color code or symbol code them, for example • for assignments (due date behind), - for tests etc. act on this when you go home (see below)
7. Have a file/binder some form of organisation to keep different subjects’ worksheets, tests, notes, reading etc.
you can have one massive binder, one binder for each subject, one folder file for each subject or anything that suits you. for me, i clip all materials of one subject together with a binder clip. the materials i use most are at the front for easy reference. then put those bundles into zipper files, perhaps one for math and sciences, another for languages and humanities. or whatever suits you best! make sure you have everything in one place so you don’t panic and dig through a pile of dog-eared paper.
8. If you can, when it’s near the exam period, don’t stay back after school unless it’s to study.
i used to stay back for training and to play volleyball with my friends and i kid you not we would play from 2pm to 6.30 pm and get nothing done but it was fun. and i’m not saying deprive yourself of that fun but when the exams are near, you should be studying somewhere quiet/ somewhere you can focus. you should go somewhere (preferably home) where you can focus and get things done.
9. Decide if you’re a lone wolf or if you need a study buddy/study group
personally i’m a lone wolf because i hate distractions and i don’t want to distract others. but when my friends ask me for help i don’t mind staying back a little to teach them and/or study with them. Personally i find that for subjects like english which require you to write about an array of topics, studying with someone else can help in generation of essay points and to just broaden your understanding of the topic. so yeah it really depends, just do what suits you :)
10. Take notes in class
try to understand while copying, and if you didn’t understand something, you should raise your hand and ask for the teacher to repeat so that you hear it again. also, it gives you more time to take notes as they re-explain the content. read them after the lesson is over to help internalise some facts. you can create your own method of organisation for your notes, e.g. colour coding.

1. Review the day’s learning on the way home.
if you take public transport, try to flip through your notes and worksheets to review new content for the first time.
2. Eat lunch, have a snack, take a shower, everything that’s necessary.
if you use your phone while eating, make sure you don’t eat slowly just to use your phone because that’s wasting time.
3. If you’re super tired, just have a 15-20min power nap
nothing more otherwise you will NEVER wake up until the dead of night. just take a nap to get some energy back. doesnt matter if you wake up feeling more tired, because you’ll shake that feeling in a while. keep a glass of water beside you so that you can drink it once you wake up!
4. Look through your ‘list’ that you made earlier in the day. (in class, pt. 6)
you might want to spend max 10 mins updating your schedule. then stare at the dreaded homework. start with the easiest and least time consuming to build up momentum. this could actually be the remainder of what you’ve finished in school. then look at the due dates. do them in order of due dates. unless it’s a huge project or assignment, you might want a head start on it!
5. With the remaining time, you should start revising
review the day’s learning AGAIN.
make notes/mindmaps/flashcards whatever works for you. you should prioritise the subject or chapter that you were most confused about. quickly revise and try to clear up any questions you have about the chapter. if you have additional time, go ahead and make notes for the next subject! another way is going through corrections and clarifying your doubts with friends/teachers, and summarise the day’s learning on a post-it or two. if you’ve already taken notes in class, look at other sources e.g textbook and combine what you’ve learnt before re-writing or re-organising your notes.

1. Pack your bag!
remove unnecessary materials, and pack the necessary one. make sure your bag isnt too heavy. you can choose to hand carry some files or binders if they’re too bulky, but make sure you’re all packed before the next morning
2. Have a meal & clean up
again, basic necessities. don’t go to bed hungry or feeling icky because thats not how you treat yo self!

Before class:
if you’re going to continue on a chapter, review the content that came before it. Try to make your own connections between the already learnt and to-be learnt content so that you’re mentally ready for class.
In class:
take down notes, highlight, annotate and DRAW DIAGRAMS. you can’t do sciences without diagrams. for physics or chemistry which require more calculation, copy down the problems your teacher goes through and solve them along with him/her. write the formulas on a post it note so you can stick it onto the page where you’re writing for easy reference. if the teacher plays a video which is MOST DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO WAIT FOR YOU you have to write only the relevant points in the most abbreviated form possible.
Note-taking:
I find that linear notes help me most in sciences. for chapters that involve lots of interconnected processes, for example o chem, then mindmaps or flowcharts will be helpful. also if you tend to forget something, post-it that stuff on the front page of your notes where you are FORCED to stare at it. yes. write down example problems and their steps, then write explanations for each step so that if you’re confused you can always refer back. again, draw any required diagrams.
Answering techniques:
if there’s a ‘standard’ way to answer it then you have to make sure you follow that way even in your homework because it’s muscle memory. when you get to exams, your hand will automatically write in the same format so you don’t lose marks or spend time recalling the correct format.
imo sciences are quite logical so as long as you remember and follow the flow you’ll be fine!

In class:
copy key terms, facts and examples and write all examples that the teacher has gone through. write all formulas and definitions on a post it, then shift it around the pages as needed. if there’s a type of problem you particularly suck at, ask your teacher for help IMMEDIATELY because it’s so easy to forget the steps to a problem.
At home:
do your homework, do additional practice, correct your mistakes, clarify, and repeat. memorise formulas and definitions (perhaps using flashcards or post its) then practice more and make sure your concepts are strong. there’s no easy way and sadly this is all i can comment.

In class:
copy down notes, think actively, and if you’re given a sample essay you should annotate the heck out of it and keep it somewhere safe.
For essays:
read up more and write up. befriend the best writer in class and ask for their essays. write essay plans and consult your teacher. brainstorm possible approaches with friends. read the news, and copy the links of interesting online articles for future reference. have a go-to list of examples and quotes you can use, for any and every topic. read these like your bedtime story and never forget to keep updating them.
For comprehension passages:
read the questions first. then you’ll be more sensitive to what you need to read in the passage and how you need to analyse it. try to question yourself about how and why the author does something or makes you feel something. do not rush-read the passage or you will fail horribly (personal experience). do one or two extra comprehensions and ask your teacher to mark them.

In class:
ARROWS TO LINK EVERYTHING and annotate any class notes given. write down new examples provided by the teacher. if there is a link you ‘can check out’ go check it out. it’s probably something thats gonna be on the exam.
At home:
you have to rely on mindmapping and flow charts because everything is linked in some way and you cannot ignore those links!!!! although i do my humanities notes in linear form, my in class notes are all in the form of mindmaps. and actually i revise from those in a pinch because i can see everything at one go. watch vids on the concepts, for example plate tectonics. those things are so hard to see when they’re deadass sitting on the page and not budging. watch a video where they really move instead of being frozen.
If you’re so frickin lost:
watch more videos on the concepts, watch more videos on the events, search up interpretations online and ask your teachers!!! for everyone who gets equally lost as me when i’m faced with a new chapter, another way is to pre-read before the teacher starts teaching. if you’re lazy to read just watch a couple clips on it so that at least you have some background. even if you wake up the next day with 0 concrete memory, which you won’t, you’ll already have the flow of things which will help you if you’re usually the straggler.
(disclaimer i study geography although i've tried history and english literature but i think that they're similar to some extent, especially on how to study them)
#study#studyblr#studying#coralstudiies#revision#study motivation#notes#study tips#study advice#studying tips#studying advice#high school#lectures#tips#advice
1K notes
·
View notes
Photo
I may have lost any semblance of control on my life i had before. Among Us AU details under the cut.
Many of them have accents. I had the idea that they were from a big like multi-country space project and fell in love with the idea of the American(s) on the ship just startling the others because of things like the lack of bidets in the US.
Red (Elliot) is 38, is a Texan and you can tell he says Ya'll as a descriptor and many of the others are slightly fearful of the way he mashes words together. his whole personality can be summed up with "I'm a cowboy baby" and the fact that he's angy.
If I'm honest he is the only American on board that really startles the other crewmates even the other Americans are like "hey dude chill".
Orange (Herbert) is 27 probably from France (haven't really decided yet) and he was more confident before shock horror bad things happened to the whole crew. (More on that at five). Herbert is also very easily overwhelmed, he tries to pay attention but is often confused. I’ve also decided to change the egg on his head to be a hat in the future but I decided that after I drew the egg.
Pink (Eun-Jung) is 29, South Korean but he got some schooling in Britain and has probably traveled a lot. He looks soft but he can and will throw a mean punch. He and Herbert have crushes on each other but they kinda put it to the side when shit went down. There have been many times however when Eun-Jung has sat down with Herbert and calmed him down and dried his tears.
Green (Philip) is one of the younger crewmates being 22, he's a very studious lad he loves adventure novels and always wanted to go to space.
Especially after watching shows and reading books about space. He keeps trying to get together group DND nights but it's very hard for him to cater to everyone's interests cause he's the kind of DM that wants everyone to have fun but he also has a lot planned for a session but nothing ever happens because everyone is always goofing off. He still has fun tho and so does everyone else.
White is Angie, If I'm honest I named her that because of the halo she's wearing, and I thought it'd be funny. She is a not so single once single mother who lost her husband when her kid was born. She used to live in England but moved to Ireland for new scenery and for the space project.
She and black (Jolene) met in school and quickly fell in love. They Are Married! And the whole crew hates (loves) how sappy they are. Angie is stubborn and strong but also very kind and level-headed, she's not easily overwhelmed like Herbert is but when she does get overwhelmed, she doesn't crumble like he does. Doesn't mean her wife doesn't comfort her tho.
They both are in their late forties (Angie is 48 and Jolene is 49) and I named Jolene, Jolene because of the song. Jolene is Irish btw idk if I made that clear. And she is the definition of a chaotic lesbian, Angie tries very hard to keep her air of being a distinguished bi but she's also very chaotic at heart. They both are greying hair-wise but Jolene keeps covering it up with dye. Jolene thinks her wife looks very elegant with the white in her curls. Jolene can be summed up with that one Tumblr post story about a girl who told a girl she liked that "her air must be mad crisp" because of her plants.
Cyan (Tea) is Scandinavian and listen this like Eun-Jung's name is where is gets shaky google wise, and if this name isn't really a Scandinavian than I guess it's just an eccentric nickname. (I’m assuming it’s pronounced like the drink but if I’m wrong sorry) She is NERDY AND PROUD, but like not movie nerdy girl I mean genuinely weird nerdy. I guess technically everyone is a little nerdy in this crew but she's a feral kind of scientist. She is technically the captain of the ship because of her science background and her previous work with the Scandinavian branch of the space mission. Her goggles are prescription. She is 36 and has a little crush on the resident father of two purple (Perry).
Perry is a loving dad and all-around kind dude, he fathers the group sometimes intentionally. Often taking control of making food, and sometimes the group meetings, even tho technically he's not in charge. He's an open ear to the entire crew and he loves his two kids so much. He doesn't talk much about how he and his Ex split up but it's clear that he and his kids are happier without her. He Kinda likes Tea back a little but he's so busy being a good dad that he doesn't know that. He's often found baking for everyone and is in fact the culprit behind the extra five pounds everyone gained when joining the ship. Perry is 32. His family is from India and he visited his extended family there a lot but he was born and raised in the UK.
Blue (Liz which is short for Elizabeth) is not the greatest with people, she tries her best but she often comes off weird she's 51, one of her hobbies is learning and practicing different rules to fighting styles. She’s trying to teach herself taekwondo but the lack of instructor and need to use downloaded videos is holding her back. She's got some skill in boxing and ran a self-defense course back on earth. Her entire class was sad to see her go but the respected her decision and on the off days that the ship gets reception to radio back earth or other ships she makes sure to message them back with well wishes.
Yellow (Zack) is a little shit lord, he is the youngest on crew at age 19. He got in through a series of events up to and including the fact that his parents were exasperated by him and that his Aunt Liz (who he calls Aunt Lizzy) telling them that they were short a crewmate. the previous yellow left and they were having trouble getting a fit for the crew's specific needs, everyone else was on different crews and couldn't leave to fill in their gap. They were planning to leave with nine people when Zack reluctantly signed up. He was 18 at the time he first signed up and after a year of training, he was greenlit just in time for the mission.
He doesn't really get along well with anyone but he slowly opens up to the crew overtime. He got labeled as a problem child because of undiagnosed ADHD and focus problems and by the time he was diagnosed it was too late and all of his teachers had basically given up on him.
The entire crew tho is cool with it because many of them are neurodivergent. Liz and Zack are the other Americans of the crew. But Elliot is the only one who is not bi/multilingual. Unless you count Texas accent as a language which a many of the crew jokingly do. In which case he is fluent.
But then disaster struck, after a few months of bonding and growing close as a found family people started to die. After some trial and error, they found out that Herbert and Zack were behind it. Liz and Eun-Jung being two of the few remaining both reacted differently Eun-Jung was controlled anger barely keeping it together and Liz was deeply disappointed, she wanted better from her nephew.
What was weird tho was after ejecting the pair their display panels confirmed that they were "imposters" and now that they thought about it it was weird that they were all locked to this one specific floor of this ship. but no matter that was a thought for another day. now able to go to the lower floors the remaining crew mates all went to bed.
The next morning however everyone was back and alive not even a scar remaining, even the imposters. returned. After a lot of shouting (mainly from Elliot who was pissed about being stabbed) the crew started to reluctantly trust what Hubert and Zack were saying that they didn't want to hurt or kill any of them but something made them and it was like they were in a haze.
It was only directly after a kill that they could snap out of it and control themselves briefly (kill cooldown) before they lost control again. Since then they've been stuck in this sick loop where they all keep taking turns being stuck as imposter killing each other. At first when it happened again, they thought it was Herbert and Zack again but once it didn't stop anything and the ship told them that they weren’t imposters.
They realized that it was randomized. Overtime they learned the rules. Only Imposters can access vents, the kill count, that they can then follow around and do things as ghosts after thy get murdered, etcetera. But one thing they didn't realize was the punishments.
Overtime as they each tried to break the rules by, revealing themselves as imposter, trying desperately hard to go pacifist, or any number of other things like trying to remove their helmets, or talk on comms before emergencies on meetings they were punished.
Philip is now growing plants off of himself. Eun-Jung has a similar punishment but it's solely cherry blossoms. Herbert is stuck killing everyone by eating them with a giant mouth from his stomach. I don't know Elliot’s punishment yet but the thought to make him Texan squared did cross my mind.
Angie is turning into one of those rad many-eyed angels from Dante's inferno. Jolene is now growing goat horns and her eyes are now goat-like. And Idk what other punishments to give Tea, Perry, Liz, and Zack, I want them to be related to the hats and stuff you can wear in game like some of the others but how to you punish some one using a banana? Or two kids? Or googles? I’ll probably come up with something later especially since they are all mostly hidden by the suits, that means that conceivably their punishments are hidden by the suits.
#among us#among us ocs#my art#i've lost it. bye ya'll I'm lost in the sauce#i'#I spent so much time while i drew them thinking of their dynamics and stuff and how the universe would work for optimal angst
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
guide to access outer worlds audio files
(a note - i purchased the game through epic so i don’t know if this will work for the windows version. i’ve read people have trouble unlocking the console for non-egs versions so i feel i should at least specify i’m doing this with the epic version)
a couple people asked how i got to the audio files so here’s my way. you can also use this method
https://forums.nexusmods.com/index.php?/topic/8095863-unpacking-the-pakchunkx-windowsnoeditorpak-with-unrealpakexe/
uhurunuru’s comment #8 explains how. but that will extract all the files and you may not want all of it. i find my way easier but it’s up to you. i’m not an expert, i just mess around. so here’s what i do-
tools needed-
watto game extractor - http://www.watto.org/game_extractor.html
this will allow you to view the files. you can use the free version for this but you can’t preview the files. so you’ll just have to extract without knowing exactly what you’re getting.
audio converter - https://www.reddit.com/r/NoMansSkyMods/comments/4xrxvv/tool_extract_wem_audio_files/
the audio from tow will come as wem files which you’ll need to convert. you could use anything that will convert or play this file type. this is what i used personally, and then i use foobar if i want to convert it to mp3 to post here on tumblr
1. open game extractor. point the panel on the right toward where your game files are, the paks folder specifically. it won’t be exactly where mine is, mine is on my d drive and then i put all my epic games in a folder called egs. the part after that should be the same for you - theouterworlds\indiana\content\paks. the list below will show all the paks you can open. double click on one. i circled the main ones. you can try the others but they don’t have anything openable for me so idk
2. it might take a minute to load, it’ll pop up a little window saying reading archive. once it’s done, use the panel on the left to choose how to sort. for audio you can do by file extension/file type, go to the bottom of the list, and double click on wem. this will show all the audio available to you in that pak. but i find it’s easier to do by file path because the audio files are organized by npc and if i just want like parvati’s stuff, it makes more sense to me. so let’s do that way, from the drop down, select file path. then go to wwiseaudio - windows - voices - english(us) [unless your games not in english, it’ll be something else i suppose] - then double click whoever you want
2a. notes - temp files are like.. a robot reading the lines lol like text to speech. interesting but probably not what you’re looking for. companions (and phineas) have two folders - so parvati and parvatiholcomb. that seems to differentiate between like combat/gameplay reactions and conversations. folders starting with inx and xfh seem to be dlc related. i’d be sure to check the other paks if you want all of character’s dialogue, i think they’re split between pakchunk0 and pakchunk1
3. in the middle panel, select what you want, right click, pick extract selected. or extract all if you want everything in the folder you’ve opened. if you get the full version of the extractor, you can listen to the file right there.
4. the files will be extracted to wherever your game files are. (you can change this in options but that’s the default location). go to that folder in windows explorer. i recommend you move them somewhere else, that is the game folder so at best i would remove them before you play again. so let’s put them in a folder of their own on your desktop or something and then open the zip for the convertwem converter files. drag and drop them to the folder with your extracted wem files.
5. double click convert.bat. windows cmd window will open, it converts them all, when it’s done you can close that. then you’ve got ogg files which should play in your audio software. you can convert those to mp3 or whatever else if needed.
send me a message if you’re confused. like i said, i’m no expert but i do like to mess around and explore stuff. i hope this helps any of you who are interested. i probably talk too much in a tutorial like this haha
also if you find the company jingles, pleeeeeeeeease share!!! i can’t find them.... i have a lead but i don’t understand it so yeah....
#a note part 2 - if windows doesn't work perhaps a pirated version would#not that i'd know anything about that sort of thing#upstanding gamer here i only mess around with legally purchased files#my stuff#the outer worlds#long post#guide#spacer’s mods
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Framework (Part Two)
Summary: Request - Bucky x reader songfic where he pushes her away and they break up but he’s miserable without her and it all ends in fluff and apologies
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 2,200
Author’s Note: This was literally the hardest chapter I’ve ever written idk why but I should probably start outlining instead of winging it 25/7 lol anywho sorry this took forever and hopefully p3 will come to my brain faster! / based on Framework by The Story So Far
Taglist: @firefly-in-darkness @emptynote @buckysgoddess
How’d this happen?
Found your way in
So distracting
Splitting me in half again
Can’t ever sever the ties I made
The knots are strong
The framework’s laid
No matter how many things I say
The tangible will always be what I crave
Six agonizing days pass, with Bucky coming to the conclusion that he actually can’t live with his decision. He feels like he’s drowning in regret, his anxiety is off the charts, and, plainly, he’s just fucking miserable.
Despite everything he said to you, to himself, to Sam, it’s become crystal clear that not having you in his life is hurting him way more than confronting his trust issues and fear of impermanence.
He misses you like hell. The scent of your clothes, the way you laugh, the warmth in your eyes and on your fingertips. How perfectly your bodies fit together, the way you gasp and growl his name. How you would hold him to your chest, tracing soothing patterns across his skin when he couldn’t stop shaking from the nightmares and the flashbacks. How funny and beautiful and kind you are. Even things that had irritated him, your reiterated suggestions of different therapies and mindfulness techniques (some that had helped you personally), how you never tried to hide rolling your eyes, you constantly misplacing your keys/phone/wallet and him finding it within seconds -- he missed it all. All of you, the good and bad, had somehow become woven into his being. He could sooner get rid of how he felt about you than get rid of himself.
He told himself he wouldn’t do it, but he’s been repeatedly checking your Instagram page, heart thudding each time as he anticipates seeing the pictures of the two of you together deleted -- or worse, seeing you with another guy’s arm wrapped around you. So far, though, there’s been nothing except a video post of your dog, Balto, howling and grinning at your TV screen when Ghost appears on the latest Game of Thrones. It just makes his heart ache more, that he chose to remove himself from these small, wonderful little moments in your life, and for what?
He keeps staring at your number, his thumb hovering above the screen before he chucks the phone to the side, rubbing his eyes as he once again chickens out of contacting you.
He reaches the breaking point when he starts reading back through old texts from around the time when you two first started dating.
“I know we just said bye five minutes ago but I just wanted to say how happy I am that I met you. And you are definitely cuter than I am. That is all! Night, Buck.” And now the same blushing smile emoji that had him grinning from ear to ear makes his heart twinge.
“What the fuck did you do, Barnes?” he asks himself, letting the phone drop to his forehead with a dull thunk.
He knows he wants—needs—you back, but he doesn’t know where to even begin.
He sighs, grimacing as he rolls himself out of bed and trudges out toward the living room. There’s only one thing to do.
Bucky can already hear Sam’s voice emanating down the hall as he approaches:
“You call THAT avant garde?! That silhouette is as bland as toast. TOAST, Nina!”
Bucky sits himself down in the ottoman in the corner, careful not to walk in front of Sam — he thought he’d never hear the end of it when he accidentally blocked the screen during the last Grey’s Anatomy season finale.
“Project Runway again?” he asks, shaking his head.
“Hey, don’t you be getting all judgey now.” Sam smirks at Bucky, taking in his disheveled state. “You need to be jotting down notes, Kurt Cobain, wearing the same grungey-ass flannel three days in a row.”
Bucky shrugs.
“Not like I have anyone to impress.”
“You had someone to impress, but remember, you broke up with her, you cowardly fucking jackass.”
Bucky clenches his teeth as his scathing tone rattles in his head. He tries his best to ignore it and sound nonchalant as he swallows his pride to do something that normally sets his skin on edge: reach out to another person.
“Anyways, you busy?”
“Nah, I’ve had enough disappointment for today.” Sam grabs the remote, shutting off the screen and shifting to look at Bucky. “What’s up?”
Bucky exhales deeply, and he can practically feel the apprehension settling on his face, his habitual reluctance to open up kicking in.
“Um …”
He bites the corner of his lip, trying to think over his words when his gut just wants him to yell, “I FUCKED UP please tell me how to get Y/N back.”
He’s spared having to, though, as Sam cuts through the silence:
“You want to get back together with Y/N, don’t you?”
Bucky stares at him.
“Is my misery that obvious?”
“Painfully.”
Despite his deadpan tone, the corner of Sam’s mouth twitches, and the two find themselves chuckling together. While he’ll never admit it to him, this is why Bucky views him as his best friend, why he trusts him -- he always knows how to make him laugh when he needs it. He knows Sam has his back.
Bucky shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.
“So, what do I do?”
“Before I can try to answer that, you need to tell me why you broke up with her in the first place.”
Thought I’d burn the seams if they frayed
Thought I’d prove the point that I made
“I thought if I ended things, I’d be able to stop caring and feeling so vulnerable, I guess. That it’d be better for her, because she deserved better anyways, and maybe it’d be better for me … I don’t think I really believed that, deep down, but … I was scared. Scared of getting hurt, not being enough.”
Bucky pauses and sighs, staring at the ground as he wrings his hands, running his flesh thumb back and forth over the smooth metal.
His voice is quiet, apprehensive.
“I was scared of how I felt about her.”
Bucky glances up after a few moments of silence and is met with Sam looking at him more seriously than he can ever remember.
“Do you love her?”
Normally Bucky would flinch at such a direct question, but now, finally facing the consequences of keeping himself so guarded, he hesitates only for a fraction of a second before he nods, and it feels like a weight has left his chest in acknowledging how he feels.
He loves you. And he doesn’t have to run from that.
Sam nods back in response, running his hand along the dark stubble on his face as he begins in earnest.
“Look … you have a lot of regret in your life, right? I know it’s over things you didn’t choose, but now, you can choose. So what’s your choice gonna be? The way I see it, A) You can keep doing what you’re doing and let fear run you into the ground, or, B) you can tell that fear to go to hell, reach out to Y/N, buy her the nicest apology flowers you can, and tell her everything you just told me.”
“And if she tells me to go to hell?”
Sam sighs.
“I mean, she’s probably going to be pretty pissed at you��—and rightfully so— but,” he pauses, his tone lightening, “God knows why, she seemed to really be into you. And nobody gets over a breakup that fast unless the relationship was already dead for awhile. You guys looked like you were solid until -”
“I blew everything to pieces, yeah.”
Bucky sits quietly for a few seconds, pausing to sit and feel the knowing. The alignment in both his heart and mind, what he wants moving forward.
“I think choice B is the clear winner, here.”
Sam waves his fist back and forth.
“Ding ding ding!”
Bucky nods.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice earnest as his eyes lock on Sam’s.
Sam’s returning smile is full of encouragement.
“Hey man, I got you. And I know this ain’t easy for you, opening up about stuff. Just know there’s always a seat at the VA group just waiting for your supersoldier ass to sit down, if you ever want to talk more.”
“Nah I’m-” Bucky physically stops himself from finishing his default “nah, I’m good for now, but thanks” response, because if he’s realized anything throughout this entire ordeal, it’s that he is most definitely not “good,” or at least not doing as good as he’d like to be.
“Yeah, ok, I’ll do it.”
“For real?”
Bucky exhales deeply, his sadness hanging on every syllable.
“With all this … I don’t know, maybe I wouldn’t have acted the way I did with Y/N if I had started dealing with this sooner, getting more okay with talking and being honest with people,” he muses. “Like you said, if I really do want a normal life, I kinda need to find a better way to handle what’s going on in here,” he taps his temple and then his chest, “than just shutting people out.”
Incredulity is all over Sam’s face, coupled that something Bucky could swear looks like a glimmer of pride.
“Wow, yeah, that’s great, that’s the kind of perspective that’ll help you move forward.” He grins. “You sure you’re feeling ok? This isn’t some fever-induced thing, right?”
Bucky flips him off while Sam chuckles.
“Hilarious.”
“You know I’m playin.’” Sam nods vigorously. “Seriously, it’ll be good for you. Anyways, though, back to choice B.”
Bucky feels the rise and fall of his chest pick up in nervous anticipation, but he slides the phone out from the pocket of his jeans anyways, thumbs tapping away on its surface.
“Hey. Can we meet up?”
Before he can second guess himself, he hits send, promptly hurling the phone onto the opposite corner of the couch where Sam is perched.
“Watch it!”
“You tell me what she says back. I don’t wanna see it first.”
However long you’re gone, I will wait, I will wait.
And then an agonizing, crawling two hours pass, with Bucky finding himself unable to focus on the National Geographic moon landing documentary that would normally absorb him entirely, his eyes constantly straying from the screen to the phone sitting silently in the corner. You never took this long to answer a text when you were dating, so he knows you’re ignoring him.
“Maybe she blocked you and didn’t even see it.”
He’s just about to ask Sam for the phone back to message you on Instagram, past the point of caring how desperate he looks because it’s the truth, when it pings.
Sam snaps out from his half-napping state at the sound, stretching across the couch and grabbing the phone. He pulls a face and Bucky’s heart sinks -- Sam might as well have said “yikes” out loud.
“What’d she say?”
Sam looks at him with the tiniest bit of pity, tossing the phone back.
“Why.”
“Why? That’s it?” Bucky looks down at the screen in disbelief, and there it is, the one-word response.
“Yup.”
Bucky buries his head in the throw pillow closest to him, muffling his yell.
“What do I even say to that?! She’s pissed off, and I don’t wanna do this over text.”
“You don’t have to do it all over text, but you gotta give her something. The last thing you said to her was that you wanted to break up, and now you want to see her. I’m guessing she doesn’t want to assume you want to get back together, but if you do, she wants you to know she’s still upset.” Sam shrugs. “You messed up, now you gotta work for it.”
Bucky takes the pillow off his face, grimacing.
“Goddammit.”
He takes a minute to craft his reply, staring down at the screen.
“Because you were right about everything. I never should have ended us, I’m an idiot and miss you like hell. I just want to talk.” He hits send and turns the phone over, heart thumping inside his chest.
Ten minutes pass before you answer:
“I’ll be home until 7, I have plans after.”
Bucky’s stomach drops as his brain conjures images of you dressed up but not for him, for some other guy, his metal hand clenching involuntarily.
“You don’t know that you don’t know that, c’mon. It’s only been six days.”
He replies immediately:
“Can I come see you at 5?”
“Ok.”
Even with the realization that it’s already 4:10 and he’s gonna have to haul ass to Adams Morgan while still finding the time to get you the nicest flowers he can, Bucky already feels lighter with hope. You agreed to see him. You’re giving him at least a fraction of a chance to put things back together.
He flies up off the couch and takes off down the hall.
“I’m meeting her at her place at 5!”
Sam calls out to his retreating back, and Bucky allows himself a small smile.
“Hey, go get her. But you go shower first!”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes#bucky barnes and sam wilson#james bucky barnes#james barnes x reader#james barnes#bucky fic#bucky imagine#bucky angst#bucky and sam#avengers fic#avengers imagine#the story so far#bucky barnes songfic#Sebastian Stan
54 notes
·
View notes
Photo
"They upped security in the halls, [redacted]. I'm scared, especially after seeing what they can do. But, I can't stop now - I'm so close to finding her, I can feel it! Soon I'll find my little sister and we'll finally be free, [redacted]. Once I get Molly out, I'll find someone who will believe us - someone who will believe our story and rescue you."
I just realized I never posted the Captive Audience drawing I did for my Captive Audience(the game) inspired au. (Also @sporkkles-irl I’m sueing your group bc only I can steal his fingers /j)
A wall of text under this cut about my au bc I’m not going to take up y’alls entire screens w/ my premise as your scrolling. But some stuff y’all need to know is: The time here has made Giovanni a much more cautious and subdued person, and Molly is much more suspicious of others. Sylvie’s hiding in the studio’s walls.
[Part 1 stuff] Giovanni is here in the studio looking for Molly, his adopted younger sister. The person in the wall is someone [I’m not sure who yet, but probably Yoomtah or something] and the orbs are much more dangerous in the au. He finds out that he’s been lied to at the end of the path just like the PC did in the game and this is where things split.
[Part 2 stuff] After the events of the game's stories they have to find a new way to make sure Giovanni doesn't go off mad. They can't use [Redacted] anymore after their betrayal to him - there might be a wall in between them but that wall has a grate and Giovanni is willing to tear his hands raw removing it if it means he can attack them. He's gotten through 15 times and found a way to attack them from there each time regardless of how far away they are. Anything that has their voice come through it is instantly torn to pieces, even during the show. But besides that he’s mostly subdued, even more so than before. He barely notices the commands of the executives. The audience starts to notice.
The executives panic - one wrong move and their cover is blown. So they take a season break with him, but they still need to use him for something. They can't just leave him there to rest - time is money, and he better be making it on the clock. So instead they give him short segments. They give him non-sharp crafting supplies (that doesn't always stop him though. They implement a new rule - no one with a 2 ruler distance. If your closer than that you're in attack range)
This surprisingly works! . . . For a bit. Sometimes the crafts are fine. They're sometimes even cute! They look like things that you'd buy at a store for a little sibling - soft non-sew bear plushies, paper airplanes, little paper mache stuff. Other times.... their a little twisted. A cat with too many eyes and heads, more nightmare than actual cat, little paper knife fingers, sometimes he somehow makes actual knives! Once he takes apart a tv and somehow makes an emp. The studio executives fire the intern watching him and they mostly only let him cook after that one.
But it does work. Most of the time he's content - not happy, never happy here - but it's better than he was after the last season's finale so the board takes it. As long as he's ready by next season of course. Molly has a similar session in her segments. They've found that by letting her sew during segments she's 90% less likely to curse on camera! How wonderful, now they can put her in all broadcasts again - it was costing them a lot of money by having someone who could only be watched by the PG-13 audience. Sylvie.... They can't even find him half the time.
Yeah, Sylvie's another captive, been here as long as Giovanni, but he's completely paranoid of others and him and Molly spend about five minutes circling each other - waiting for the other to make a move. Eventually they realize they're on the same side and start working together to escape and find Giovanni. 90% of his segments are prerecorded bc he has a habit of hiding in places they can't find him and using psychological tricks to escape them if they ever do find him. They tried getting ppl with psychology degrees to watch him but he'd often get them thinking about a psychological debate or use reverse psychology and escape.
Near the end Molly and Giovanni finally find each other, only for neither of them to recognize each other. Molly thinks it's another trick - starts looking around, waiting for them to announce she's at the end of this season, to tear her away from the room with this fake version - while Giovanni is cautiously optimistic - he doesn't want to be, doesn't want to get his hopes up again; but she's here, this is his little sis she said his name - and it takes them a moment for them to realize it really is the other. And when they do they both run to each other, embracing as they cry their eyes out because they’re finally together again, brother and sister - the last remnants of their family finally stitched back together. And now, they have a new member as well.
[Good End Stuff] After they escape and things calm down, Giovanni starts to make his own videos. Molly and Sylvie are confused at first - worriedly reminding him he doesn't have to do that anymore, their old audience is watching and the executives wont hurt them - but Giovanni tells them he isn't making these for anyone. He's making them so the power that the old studio had on him can wane. He wants to be able to take photos with them without flinching at the sight of a camera, doesn't want to be paranoid if a lens is turned towards him.
He starts simple and with something he already knows - crafts. Now he can finally share his favorite craft with people again - knitting. He knits everything he can, sometimes talking about why he's doing it ("Molly's birthday is coming up, so I'm knitting her this rocking bear beanie," or "Sylvie was talking about being cold yesterday, so I thought I'd knit him a scarf or something. Idk we'll see how this goes.")
Sometimes the other two will steal the camera after he's done to record something of their own. Sylvie likes to use the recording device as a soundboard, recording things like his psychology ramblings and other stuff. Molly takes a page out of Giovanni’s book and records herself sewing. After all of them are more comfortable with their lil device, covered in stickers and random words written in ink, Giovanni starts recording family memories - birthdays, events they go to, Sylvie’s classes on the psychological effect of the recording studio. He likes these videos the most.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Everybody Needs Somebody
((They say a picture’s worth 1000 words so I wrote 3750 because I can’t draw and then rushed the gag itself. Also probably the only thing I’ve really written of all this that I’m posting, be it here or anywhere, since my interpretation of the ball being at a swanky hotel was incorrect, but also everything else is only like....debatably relevant? All 1.5 other pieces, that is. idk, might another short piece or two but this one was certainly a vanity project written in the early hours of the morning in post-Stardew Valley Christmas hazes that is only getting posted to make myself feel better, for some sense of “welp did the thing I said I was going to write 6 months ago and here it is” type of thing.
Anyway there’s a lot of silly references in here so kudos if you pick them all out))
Joilet tapped his foot impatiently from behind their practice room. He hadn’t meandered much around the crowd of the ball -- ignoring the current charges against him, high class crowds weren’t his scene -- but current security was still enough to make him worry. Brownblood host or not, he knew enough have true highbloods stalking around as guards. Bouncers who Joilet’s certain were watching him and recognized him the last time he did a sweep of the temporary hivestem. After their performance, Joilet and Akroid were going to have to peel out immediately.
At least they were paid upfront this time upon meeting him in person the night prior. In cash.
Though, to be fair, the Blue Brothers shouldn’t have been paid. A friend of theirs in similar line of work, a brownblood named Elliah Fagane, performed last sweep and she was slated to perform again. She was perfect for the job, a good little songbird who kept complaints she had about anything to herself and was the perfect paragon of elegance and grace -- lowblood or not. The Blue Brothers, meanwhile, were two midbloods (Joilet was a stocky cobaltblood while Akroid was a lanky tealblood) who both had a penchant for getting into trouble. Under normal circumstances, the two of them alone -- much less the whole band -- would ever be asked to perform for a traditional socialite of any caste. But, they needed the money and so Joilet was able to pull a quick favor from her to have her drop her spot while simultaneously recommending them as adequate replacements. He accepted, playing as if he knew who the two of them were the whole time. He told them how much of a fan he was of their “country and western band”, how Elliah “just wasn’t the sound he wanted”, and how excited he was to get some “representation of their own people’s music, in a more palatable fashion” in the setist.
He was partly right: once they performed a cover of Stand By Your Rail at a dive bar, pretending to be an actual western band. He’s pretty sure this guy wasn’t aware of that, but an attempt was made. At least.
Their tight, uniform appearance also helped matters. Despite the different castes and heights, Joilet and Akroid looked the part of a two person midblood group with a backup lowblood band. Same black sunglasses that cover up half their face, same black fedora hooked onto their respective short horn (Joilet’s left horn, Akroid’s right), same unruly hair covered up by said hat, same black suit and skinny black tie. Sure, Joilet’s other horn broke off during his stint in prison while Akroid’s just hooked off again and Joilet’s sideburns were unkempt, but otherwise? Perfectly uniform. If the host had any questions of their legitimacy, they were quickly quelled after seeing the two of them in person the other night and, to Joilet, that spoke just as much as their actual skill level.
Joilet glanced over to Akroid. Damn teal looked as unflappable as ever behind those dark sunglasses. It was him who got them in this whole situation in the first place. Akroid, the idiot who picked him up from the big hive at the start of the perigee with a pipe dream of getting the band back together. The idiot who resisted arrest for public intoxication from the drones all because he was a former felon himself, starting them on this stupid honkbird chase in a desparate bid for cash. Akroid, the idiot who helped get his ass out of prison in the first place, all due to whatever strange desire for the other’s companionship they developed over the sweeps.
Fuck him.
Akroid must have caught his gaze because he gave a short smile and a thumbs up. “We’re doing good,” he said. “Remember, we’re on a mission from God.”
Right. The mission from God. Joilet found himself relaxing almost instantly. He distinctly remembered the out of body experience he had upon visiting one of those criminal infested freeports before departing; where, if he hadn’t talked to the God (Joilet didn’t believe the clowns held any sort of stranglehold on the concept of godhood), he certainly talked to a god. If nothing else, they made it this far without a single hiccup they couldn’t solve in their plans. It’s hard to believe someone’s not looking out for you when you escape a chase by driving through a busy mall and still make it out on top. Without their current employer hearing any of it.
“And what if God lets y’all get caught again?” their saxophonist, Marini, asked. He was a skinnier rustblood, long curly hair that went down to his mid back and oddly pointy teeth for such a red caste. “Leavin’ us high and dry again like when Joilet got hit.”
“We’ll be fine,” Akroid said. He shifted the sleeve of his suit, pausing in his speech to check the time on his watch. “Just follow our lead and look like nothin’s wrong.”
The rustblood let out a huff with a brief shake of his head, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he asked, “How much longer do we have anyway?”
“Ten minutes,” Joilet answered. “We got ten minutes.”
“Well good.” He removed his saxophone off the neckstrap and set it on the stand. “I drank way too much Faygo. Gotta piss.”
“Then go piss!” Akroid’s stone face cracked into a distinct scowl. “Geeze, you don’t gotta announce everything. Just get back before we perform.”
Their drummer, another rustblood by the name of Barkay, stood up as well. He looked about the same age as Joilet, with curly hair partially that was obscured by his dark green visor. Barkay looked about as respectable as anyone of his caste could, with a dark red dress shirt and black tie.
“I’m goin’ with him.”
Joilet blinked harshly behind his sunglasses. “Okay? It’s the damn ablutionblock. Do what you need to.”
They apparently didn’t need to be told twice. The two trolls were out the door before Joilet had a chance to add anything else.
“You’d think his bulge was on fire,” Joilet finally said. His gaze swept around the rest of the band rapidly. They were quiet. Somber. Hell, if he didn’t know any better he’d have mistaken the lot of them going off to war, not performing for big money at some fancy gala-thing. “You think he’s gonna bail?”
“Marini? Nah. He was the only guy we didn’t have to pester who was workin’ at that diner. Been itchin’ to rip on that sax.” Akroid smirked wryly. “And doin’ it here? In front of all those rich pricks? I’d worry more ‘bout yourself. You gonna choke?”
Joilet snorted. “ ‘Course not. We’re in too deep.”
“Didn’t seem like that a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah well….” Joilet trailed off. Akroid wasn’t wrong. Joilet had panicked. It seemed like every jackass out to get them were outside waiting for them. And Akroid, bastard he was, simply reminding him that those jackasses hadn’t got them during the rest of the sweep brought him back.
Not like he’d admit it out loud.
“Had a moment of panic’s all. Then I remembered this kid’s probably being a nervous wiggler about staffing with his first year. Nothin’ else.”
“Uh-huh.” Akroid’s smirk widened a bit, giving Joilet the sudden urge to punch it right off his face. But not now. They were too close to their goal.
They stood in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before a new figure came out from the curtain, an indigoblood with short, cropped hair in a suit matching his caste walking next to Manini and Barkay. That was the guy who’d be ushering them on, sure, but he’s almost certain it hadn’t been ten minutes. Did something happen?
He glanced back over to Akroid, who just shrugged. Figures.
“Are you ready?” the indigoblood asked. He had some smile plastered on his face in some attempt to be friendly, but it didn’t look friendly. The offset, sharp teeth broken off at odd angles gave off a distinct predatory vibe.
“I dunno, did they get their break?” Joilet said.
Barkay grinned, giving the two trolls a thumbs up as he walked seat. “I got what needed done. No worries.”
The indigoblood’s face split wider, if that were even possible. He beckoned Joilet and Akroid with an open hand, unmoving until the two of them actually started following him through the narrow hallway. “Excellent. Let’s get moving then. Your stage is set, guests are waiting...you wouldn’t want to disappoint such eager crowds I’m sure. They could get aggressive.”
Joilet refrained from mentioning he passed time in prison by performing old classics, and just how dangerous some of those trolls were. Hell, he even learned a few new songs thanks to an actual country musician of a brownblood involving being stuck in prison. Aggressive wasn’t a problem. It was authority.
“Got it.”
“Good.” He stopped in front of a door, giving them a nod. “You can go ahead and enter through the door. Hopefully you don’t need any final warmups?”
“We’ll be fine,” Joilet said.
The indigoblood nodded. “If you’re certain. I shall return at the end of your set.” He opened up the door. “Best of luck.”
The two of them exchanged a look. “We don’t need luck,” Akroid said before disappearing through the door.
Joilet followed suit, giving the inidgoblood a curt nod of acknowledgement before adding, “We’re on a mission from God.”
As he walked through the door, he was immediately greeted with a dark blue curtain in front of them with a short opening to the left of them where he could catch the smallest glimpse of the piano on a raised platform. Nothing else. The piano obscured most of the view of the crowd beyond them. He imagined it was exactly the same on the other side.
It was a small exit. But it would be perfect for escaping out.
He wondered if Akroid was thinking the same thing. Probably. There was no way to tell, no way to properly read his expressionless face their last moment of respite before their performance and subsequent frantic escape before anyone did a serious background check about who they were. Still, there was a twinge in his gut that his partner in crime agreed.
When they exchanged one final nod in solitude and took their places in front of two microphones, Joilet had a feeling he was right.
As soon as he made it, he did another quick scan of the room. It was blue. Blue tablecloths covered the guest and dessert tables. Blue curtains shuttered the ball off from the outside world. Blue lights in the punch bowl made the ice snowflake sculpture inside look blue. And if it wasn’t blue, it was white. White tree sculptures adorned with white lights twisted around each marble pillar. Vases of white flowers topped every table. A white rug ran down the center of the ballroom. Small, white lights dotted an otherwise dark ceiling to give the loose impression of stars or snowflakes down onto the dance floor.
Even the trolls did nothing to break it up. If the dress didn’t match the owner’s blood color, it was a distinct blue or white with sparkles or shimmers. White lacing and white boas perfectly match the white boots and white dresses. The flashes of gray due to the high cut of many of the dress slits managed to break up the coloration more than anyone matching caste color.
Thankfully, the heavy blue-white combination made the distinct pinks, purples and blacks of those on their tail easy to spot. And oh boy, were they available -- even more so than earlier. Joilet wouldn’t be surprised if their host figured out about them at some point, but not early enough to cancel and reschedule so he let these brutes in instead. Burly indigo and purplebloods in suits stood along the edges, away from the crowds with their arms crossed in rapt concentration of the two of them. Standing next to the dessert table were a series of inidgobloods all dressed in formalized cowboy outfits, complete with stetsons, glaring at them -- the very same western group the Blue Brothers once impersonated. A few particularly annoying “seadweller master race” types in colorful gowns and military pinks stood in the back next to cobalts in military regalia, quite possibly from some local, non-drone law enforcement they managed to pick up to defend themselves. On the other side of the cobalts were a few subjuggalators who definitely were full into the “highblooded landdweller supremacy” in full face paint and religious purple clown robes. Both were groups the Blue Brothers have antagonized, whether it be intentionally with the seadwellers (they deserved it), or accidentally (turns out subjuggalators don’t like lower castes hearing the voice of their god, whatever god answered Joilet and Akroid notwithstanding). It was, however, the first time Joilet’s ever seen the two work together for a common goal. Traditionally the two groups go at it worse than a bad kismesis. He was almost proud that they were able to perform such a feat, though he wasn’t sure if the pride was directed at the supremacy groups or himself for bringing them together.
He let out a slow breath. Only one thing to do at this point. Start.
“One. Two. One, two, three, four.”
The band kicked off with the sound of upbeat horns while the two trolls gave a short dance around the mics for a few bars. After which, while the intro kept repeating, Akroid grabbed his micrphone and said, “We’re so happy to see so many of you lovely trolls here tonight. We would especially like to welcome the esteemed members of Kilran’s hired law enforcement who have chosen to join us at the 12th Perigee Ball here tonight. We hope you all enjoy the show and hope you remember that no matter who you are and what you do to live to try and survive, there’s still some things that make us all the same. You, me, them--” Akroid looked directly toward the back of the room toward the cobaltbloods assisting the supremacists with a disappointed shrug “--everybody. Everybody.”
And from there, it was Joilet’s turn. With the second mic in hand he started singing their opener, Everybody Needs Somebody to Love. It was a speedy tune, possibly a little too fast for what their host was intending, but they sounded perfect and that’s all that mattered. The band’s hits fell right within the pauses in Joilet’s vocals, and Akroid knew exactly when to come in to accent with his deep baritone. Each transition into the next part of the song was smooth, from pointing to various people in the crowd at the you, you, you, to Akroid seamlessly whipping out his harmonica to accent Joilet’s singing the pre-chorus.
There were a few scattered cheers of appreciation, but for the most part these people weren’t dancing. Only one way to change that.
As they gave a pause in vocals to allow for a harmonica solo, Joilet started through a complicated dance twisting around the band members, ducking and weaving through saxophones and trombones while he turned this way and that. It was finished with a cartwheel across the front end of the stage, landing him right in front of the microphone for the next verse.
It was the opening some of the trolls -- lower castes mostly, but he caught flashes of higherbloods in the mix -- needed. The dance floor segment had all sorts of trolls, be it single or paired off in some fashion, dancing in whichever way they fancied. Akroid must have led them into a rhythmic clap too, judging by the trolls unwilling to dance instead clapping and even chanting at every repeat of you, you, you. He caught the leader giving them a death glare. Joilet ignored it.
At the next verse, Joilet swung on his heel back toward the band. He pushed his outstretched arms down toward the floor in an overemphasized quiet down for the crowd, and every instrument dipped off except for a cymbal hat to keep time and the grooving bass guitar.
It was Akroid’s time again. He moved right toward center stage, mic in hand and announced, “You know people when you do find those special trolls for any quadrant, you gotta hold that ‘rail, hold that ‘sprit, love him, squeeze him, love her, please her. Signify your feelings with every gentle caress or angry glare. Because it’s so important to have that special somebody! To hold. To kiss. To miss! To please and squeeze!”
Akroid dropped into a kneel on the stage, as if enraptured with his statement, as Joilet finished out with the chorus. He didn’t stand back up until the harmonica came back in. He rejoined Joilet in the back for the end, and the two mimicked each other dancing on the balls of their feet as the band played out.
When the last note struck, the two of them landed simultaneously on one knee, head down with their hand holding the brim of their hats.
Two songs left. Then they bolt. They could do this.
Their performance of Soul Man was just as energetic. This song was pretty much entirely Joilet’s, so he let Akroid dance around the stage now. He could catch the other troll jumping up and down, legs moving so loosely and briskly they may as well be jelly. He only cut in for parts of the chorus, letting that deep baritone accent Joilet’s raspy vocals.
In only a few short minutes Soul Man ended and their final song, Sweet Home Gusthollow opened with swift guitar licks in a short solo. As the rest of the band kicked in and Joilet sang out the first few bars, Akroid raised his hands up to lead those listening in a clap. Barkay joined in as well. He raised his own drumsticks high above his head, tapping off the beats until those in the crowd kept time on their own.
As the first verse ended, Akroid took hold of Joilet’s mic. “Six and three is nine. Nine and nine is eighteen. Look there pupa partner and see what I’ve seen.” He nudged Joilet and pointed toward the cobalt in the back standing between the supremacists. Shit. Another look and Joilet realized he knew that troll. He was one of the wardens of the prison he was released from. But he also noticed at his angle, with the growing crowd of dancers and listeners, they might be able to slip away. After all, the stage wasn’t raised. The only reason he could still see the warden was thanks to the gaps down the main walkway.
The two of them waved confidently at him as they continued through the chorus. Even with the distance, he noticed the cobaltblood drag a thumb across his neck.
It struck Joilet numb for a few seconds. Good to know where he stands, he supposes.
The two finished out the chorus with a flourish, letting the band take over. Joilet turned over to Akroid, offering out his hands to dance. The other troll accepted, and the two pranced right off the stage and into the crowd, swinging around as Marini moved center stage to crank out a solo. With the focus off them, they were able to swing right back onto the stage and through the small opening to the area behind the stage. He could still hear the band, but it was muffled.
“You think that creep’s waitin’ for us back here?” Akroid asked.
“I sure fucking hope not. Could do without running from his slimy ass too.”
Joilet whipped open the door, ready to run from whoever Kilrun left to deal with them back here. What they were greeted with instead was a troll leaning on the nearby wall wearing a tight, long sleeved red dress that pooled onto the floor. Yellow and orange flowers, though Joilet wasn’t sure what kind, outlined her skirt. A large, black wide brimmed hat wrapped outlined in string lights covered her whole face. When the door closed, they looked up, revealing a noticeable pair of fins and tyrian pink eyes.
A fuschiablood.
“So...you must be the two trolls I was informed of.” She gave the two a grin filled with those sharp seadweller teeth, just as predatory as the indigoblood earlier, but for some reason it didn’t feel directed toward either of them. “Ran into your two bandmates earlier. He gave me a heads up you might be headed back this way before you run off.”
“Who the hell’re you?” Joilet asked.
“Call me Mayola. You two pissed off those buncha entitled rich fucks who think they’re better than everyone else right?”
Joilet and Akroid glanced at each other in silence. “What about it?”
“I’d like to bring you and your band on for Sandyhorn’s next festival. You two would make a great fit.” She pulled a thick envelope, quite obviously stuffed thick with cash, out of seemingly nowhere and handed it to Joilet. “Consider this a down payment. You’ll get the rest when I see ya there.”
Joilet thumbed through the money, eyeing her. This was a lot. More than he they could’ve gotten from this gig alone. “Yeah sure. Sounds like a deal.”
“Hey, just one problem.” Akroid jutted his thumb out toward the direction of the ball beyond them. “All those goons seem to have caught on our tail and we can’t perform unless we get outta here without goin’ to prison.”
Her face brightened. “Oh well that’s an easy one. Here, follow me.” She pushed herself off the wall and sauntered toward the door, that red dress almost appearing to shimmer in the dim lighting. With a quick motion of her wrist, she opened the door into the back of the stage. Only a few further steps in, and she leaned down and pulled at a small hitch in the floor. A trapdoor immediately popped up without a sound. “Found this out the other day when I couldn’t sleep. Should lead outside without a hitch, though you might have to go through some sewers.”
She looked up at them, eyes wild and filled with pride, catching the two troll’s equally bewildered and ecstatic expressions. “You’re brilliant!” Akroid exclaimed. “Amazing! Fantastic! Wonder--”
She held up a hand. “Save your praises for later. For now...just think of me as today’s savior.”
#my writing#fanfiction#should i tag any characters?#the only regular one only has a few lines#....eh tagging barely works on tumblr anyway
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Project Death
Part 1 (prologue)
After being held captive in a HYDRA facility for years, (Y/N) has all but forgotten everything about herself; knowing only that which is necessary for her own survival. After being rescued by the Avengers, she struggles to adapt to a (mostly) regular life once again, and realises there may have been more to life she was missing out on than previously thought.
Fandom: Avengers (post-IW and EG but with a happy ending where no one dies)
Pairings: (eventual) Bucky x fem!reader, (eventual) platonic!avengers x fem!reader
Warnings: violence, blood, pain, mentions of torture, implications of self harm, imprisonment, panic attacks, strong language, basically every bad thing, eventual NSFW, slow burn, ANGST, bad writing, probably fluff later, literally everything idk
WC: 1,375
A/N: first chapter!! thank you guys so much for all the support you’ve already given me, I can't tell you just how much it means to me! a reminder that this is literally the first fic I've ever written so don’t expect it to be fantastic or anything, any feedback or constructive criticism is very much appreciated! Shoot me a message if you wanted to be added to (or removed from) the tag list and I'll add you for the next part :)
Thank you for reading! Iz xx
Footsteps.
You could hear footsteps.
You knew they were yours. You knew you were walking, because you could hear your own footsteps. You knew where you were - the metallic stench of the facility stung your nose, working it’s way into your head and making your eyes water. You blinked away the fog which disappeared as suddenly as it had come on, snapping yourself back to the present. Zoning out wasn't a rarity with you - living in your own head made it all a hell of a lot easier. In doing so you also blinked away the droplets which formed in the corner of your eyes, barely noticing the mild discomfort - it was just a small nagging in the back of your head, one you couldn’t bring yourself to mind.
There wasn’t much more that you knew, and so you tried to keep a mental note of what you did know. One of those things was you knew that the list was getting smaller. You also knew that you didn’t know the time, whether it was day or night, didn’t know the date, or the year, or the name of the guard walking directly behind you (you could tell he was there because there was another set of footsteps not quite matching yours), or if you’ll be able to eat in the foreseeable future. ‘Foreseeable’ being irony.
The rhythmic clank, clank, clank of the chain on your legs kept you focused as you walked. You did know it would be a while before you could walk again, and you revelled in the delicious ache deep in the muscles as you stretched each leg as far as it would willingly go. The pain from this was a comfortable, familiar pain. The burning at your joints became a constant - the only one you could depend on. It kept you grounded - whatever was happening, you knew the burning would still be there.
A sudden jerk to the chain on your arm and you were halted abruptly, your weight on one foot as the other hovered mid-step. Another, and you were turning to your right; a large metal door now looming above you. You knew that this was your Room.
The keypad next to the door lit up when you were stood opposite it, the individual keys glowing with a florescent blue light so harsh that you had to force yourself not to look away or blink.
You couldn’t show weakness.
It wasn’t as if you could tear your gaze away, though - the colour always filled you with an alien emotion, one you couldn’t place if you tried (and you had, for hours, with nothing else to do after being left in the Room). It was almost a memory from another time, another life… which was ridiculous, right?
The guard punched a combination in - different to the last time - and the mocking blue turned to a cruel green. He reached around you to twist the doorknob which had appeared after the light changed, his arm brushing your side for a split second too long. He was new. With a creak, the door swung open and you were shoved inside, stumbling unceremoniously before managing to righten yourself. A faint click echoed around the room and blood rushed back into your hands, tingling, as the chains fell at your feet. You turned now to face the man, eyes angled downwards, taking two measured steps backwards until your spine hit the wall. You held your hands out to either side, not even bothering to raise your head to see the power-hungry smirk the guard would have on his face now. Cold rushed through your stomach as you felt the harsh metal encase your fist again, this time holding it against the wall. You were used to this - didn’t know anything else - yet a small part of you, hidden in the far recesses of your mind, remained terrified, and it threatened to grow each time you heard the metal snap. You were reminded of this as your other hand faced the same doom, and you were left to swallow the feeling before it could establish itself into something more.
You. couldn’t. show. weakness.
Your ankles were given the same treatment, and it wasn’t long before the man reached to push your shirt up, the concrete wall behind you grazing scarred skin as your only layer of protection was withdrawn. The friendly burn from your limbs was now drowned out by the harsher, newer burn enveloping your torso - the cool metal casing pressing you further into the wall, your own personal, hidden coffin. Your shirt was yanked messily back down over the top, hiding the miniature prison from view, and you had to choke back a whimper when you remembered what would be coming next. The fear always became almost impossible to ignore by this point. The guard noticed your gulp, and the way your eyes screwed shut, and he tilted his thin mouth into an evil grin once again as he drew himself to his full height (which, you noted, was not very high). He opened his mouth to speak, a foul stench reaching your senses nearly making you gag, but was interrupted by an echoing yell and a crash from somewhere in the facility. You could feel old scars on your back reopen as your subsequent flinch made you press yourself into the wall far as possible (not very far). He closed his mouth (to your nose’s relief) and turned his head with a roll of his eyes to glance out the open door behind him, muttering under his breath something about needing a better defence system. You, however, were not paying attention to anything he said and were too busy trying to frantically figure out the source of the noise, your heartbeat rising unsteadily as your mind raced at increasing speeds, each rise and fall of your chest bringing a fresh rush of pain as more skin was pressed against the metal corset. You had barely noticed when the guard turned back around, pushing greasy hair back from his face, and was now reaching for the Mask.
You didn’t - couldn’t - react as he placed it over your head, the metal stinging where it rested on the crown of your head and bruised cheek bones, and instead focused on pacing your breaths. Your vision was now obscured by small meal bars running over your eyes, and you bared your teeth as you made out the guard reaching up to pat the side of your cheek, not being able to feel it due to the thick leather. Another crash echoed through the halls - closer this time than the last, and a mix of fear and fury finally rushed through your veins. Upon hearing it, the guard’s gaze hardened, and he placed his face directly opposite yours, barking commands and reiterating orders of what to do in an emergency, lest you had forgotten. You, however, were still not listening - couldn’t even hear him over the rushing sound in your ears - and instead focused on bringing your head, heavy mask and all, down onto his with as much strength you could muster. He hadn’t put your neck harness on yet, and now he was unconscious on the floor.
Fear flooded through your system, unchallenged by the retreating rage. Oh god, what had you done? You now noticed, though your vision was still severely limited, that the alarms had sounded and every room was swallowed in a pulsating red, one which invaded your mind and chased out any emotion - any thought - other than pure terror. The door to The Room still was wide open, and the guard you had dropped lay in full view of the corridor, just waiting for someone to discover. This time you allowed the whimper to escape your throat as you desperately wished that the punishment this time would be death… you just couldn’t face the testing any longer. A second muffled cry joined the first as you allowed yourself to dwell on the possibility that no one would find out - no one would pass you and see that you were still trapped in the room, starving and rotting away into nothing but the shell that your mind had already become.
Oooooh I wonder who’s about to show up? ;) I promise things will actually start happening in the next part sksksk I’m yelling it’s so dark, I’m so sorry! well there you have it folks, part one! I've no idea when part 2 will be up I'm afraid, it shouldn't be long though. I’m not 100% happy with this but I think the more I look over it the more annoyed I'll be with it, so may as well just post it and get it out of the way! Once again thank you so much for the support and any constructive criticism / feedback is always welcome! I hope you enjoyed :)
p.s. sorry if your tag didn't work! I'm working to fix it :)
Tag list: @slender--spirit / @nerd-without-a-cause / @emilymarie0422 / @dontstopfreddienow / @strangersstranger / @thegraceofme / @uuuuuuuuggggghhh / @bloodywitches / @romimiux / @hailqueenconquer / @sinviix / @moonlitlakes-andfairycakes
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#avengers#mcu#avengers fanfiction#avengers x reader#captain America#the winter soldier#tws#self insert reader#hydra#skilled!reader#bucky x skilled!reader#project death#fanfiction#im so tired lol#please love me#slow burn#angst
76 notes
·
View notes
Link
homer drops his forehead against the table. he’s been awake for so long, a million years at least, and now that the alcohol isn’t blurring time in his brain every second ticks by like knuckles rapping against his skull. Ray Ban had brought him a glass of water, clearly sympathetic to the desperate way that homer wants to be really, genuinely, permanently dead.
“let this be a lesson to you in the dangers of alcohol consumption,” Donut Mouth tells him, sounding almost amused. homer thinks he’s coming around, though. he’s stopped trying to get homer to cut to the chase, and he’d even patted homer’s shoulder when he tried gulping the water down and had to spit it out when the cold of it hurt his teeth.
homer groans, long and low. “i’m dying, man. listen -- can i just -- a nap. a quick one. under the table. i’ll pick up again right after, i swear to god.”
“if you’re gonna be a man at night, you gotta be a man in the morning,” Ray Ban counsels, and homer lifts his head to scowl at him, or at least in the direction of him.
“don’t come for me with mine own words,” he grumbles. “jesus. okay. where was i?” he scrubs at his forehead, trying to massage the headache back and away, and takes another sip of water, slower this time. god, his whole mouth tastes like he’s been eating cigarettes, tangy and cottony and awful. he’s never drinking again. he’s gonna quit life. he’s gonna become a hermit. people will wonder if he was even ever really there, or just a mass hallucination.
Donut Mouth pats his arm with gentle condescension. “your ex-roommates had just moved in with the alpha sigs.”
“oh, right,” homer remembers. he holds the water glass against his temple and sighs into the sweetness of its cold. “okay. so that went wrong, like, almost immediately.”
--
it wasn’t quite accurate to say that the whole thing went wrong immediately; actually, bree moved in with AC and PK and, to the surprise of everybody, the arrangement worked brilliantly. bree had always liked PK, ever since they took a class together on art therapy. she was going into special education, and they’d done a joint project on using photography to help nonverbal kids with self-expression. he was also, she happened to know, a sweetly proficient guitar player, though the only songs he had memorized were “wonderwall” and the entirety of taylor swift’s “1989.”
“once you’ve mastered the greats, there’s really no reason to keep learning,” AC said supportively, when bree giggled about this fact. “also, i’m just gonna say it, she’s a bisexual icon.”
PK sighed, shaking his head. “taylor swift is straight, dude,” he said, in the voice of someone who has said it many, many times before.
“taylor swift is, or was, at the very least, in a romantic friendship with karlie klaus,” AC returned. “and you should honor the bisexual spirit that built this fuckin house.” AC puffed out his chest, and then relaxed. “not literally, because this house was built in like ... the middle ages, probably by some repressed pilgrim who believed sex was a kind of witchcraft, or whatever.”
bree nodded thoughtfully. “no, yeah, the house is a metaphor for your relationship, i got it,” she said.
two loud slams came from the wall behind bree’s head. “taylor swift and karlie klaus were in love,” chrys shouted through the wall. “this. is. undeniable.”
“man, these walls are thin,” bree said. “that’s got to be awkward, um ... intimately speaking.”
AC shrugged. “sock on the door means knock no more,” he recited, raising a finger.
“also, aggy spends a lot of nights at nessa’s,” PK added. “and geni is taking an astronomy class that keeps her out until like, three or four in the morning doing, idk, star bullshit. so.”
bree nodded. she folded her feet underneath her, sitting cross-legged and leaning back against the wall. they’d pushed the two beds together, using a large sheet and one blanket, and she could already see that separating the beds would be a nightmare for the rooms, like, vibe.
“hmm,” she mused, looking around. “well ... i mean, i could sleep on the floor.”
PK frowned at her. “absolutely the fuck not, babe,” he said. “we’ll split up the beds. it won’t be that hard.”
“oooooor,” AC wheedled, grinning.
PK shot him a glare. “don’t,” he warned, elbowing him sharply in the ribs.
“aw, c’mon.”
“you’re gonna make her uncomfortable.”
“no i’m not! she’s chill! bree, you’re chill, right?”
she blinked. “uh,” she said. “i guess?”
“he wants you to sleep with us,” PK cut in, before AC could say anything else. “he’s really attached to this fuckin bed frame.”
“i built it myself!” AC cried, preening. “i fuckin ... magic mike’d that shit.”
PK shared a glance with bree and gave his head a minute, but fond, shake. he reached out to tweak AC’s ear. “it’s a square, bud. anyone can assemble a square. it’s honestly not that different from buying it from IKEA.”
“fuck you! i’m a master carpenter!”
bree reached out and patted AC’s bicep. “it’s really nice,” she complimented, sincerely. bree believed in the power of positive reinforcement. “you did a really good job.”
AC beamed.
PK pinched the bridge of his nose, but when he met bree’s eyes, he was smiling. bree felt, suddenly, out of nowhere, a swell of affection for the both of them -- for the very stupid muscle tee AC was wearing, which said DON’T BRO ME IF YOU DON’T KNOW ME; for the high heels discarded in the corner, next to the acoustic guitar with an COEXIST sticker from 2005 on it; and especially for the way PK was looking at AC out of the corner of his eyes, warm and wrinkled.
“aw, you big dummies,” she said, without quite meaning to. she reached into her bag and pulled out her ream of star stickers, which she always carried with her, just in case. she stuck gold stars on both of their foreheads and said, “no sex stuff while i’m in bed with you, but yeah. i think we can probably make this work.”
*
helen stood in the driveway with one hand on her hips and one hand shading her eyes, squinting up at the roof of the alpha delta chi house. dité was stretched out in her bikini on a plastic chaise. there was a winding wooden staircase leading from helen and dité’s shared window up to the roof. it had a railing.
“look what paris had built,” dité called down, without stirring or removing her sunglasses. “you ruining your life is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
helen sighed. she’d mentioned to paris yesterday that the roof was hard to get up to, but that it got the best sun. she’d said it in passing. it was just whining, she hadn’t expected him to like, do anything about it.
“i have to dump him,” she said, aloud but mostly to herself.
“uhhhh, j’excuse?” dité called down, sitting up. “the fuck you do, what are you smoking? this is the fucking best. he’s like a magic genie. i’ve been begging nas to build us a ramp for years, and all you gotta do is think about it and your boy comes through.”
sappho took a long, bubbly sip of her iced coffee. “maybe you’re a witch,” she mused. “maybe you’ve been influencing people with your magic powers all this time and didn’t even know it.”
“shut up, saph,” helen muttered. “nessa is going to kill me. she’s going to come home and see this extremely illegal addition to the house and she’s going to have me jumped.”
at that moment, athena’s head popped out of the window. “BITCHES, I MADE FROSÉ,” she announced, and began climbing the steps. she flexed her arms, a clear pitcher with pink slush in it in each hand. her baseball cap, backwards on her head, had the logo of the interim lacrosse team on it; helen knew because ares was on the team, too. athena was the only girl, though she fit right in with her knee-length board shorts and glaring white socks pulled halfway up her calves.
“how does she always look like she just walked off the set of bill and ted’s excellent adventure?” sappho marveled, delighted. “like, it’s still so hot out, what is even the point of tying a flannel around your waist?”
“the hashtag aesthetic, mama!” athena called down cheerfully. “are you assholes gonna stand down there marveling at the gunshow all afternoon or are you gonna come up to our cool new tanning bed and get blasted on frosé? it’s strong. i put a lot of booze in it.” she leaned over and sniffed one of the pitchers, winced, and withdrew. “like maybe ... too much booze in it.”
“no such thing, my beautiful christina-ricci-in-now-and-then daydream,” sappho assured her, kicking up the porch steps, ponytail swinging. helen hesitated just long enough for dité to notice, and by the time helen got up to the roof she had finally removing her sunglasses so she could glare down up at helen’s face.
“girl, what,” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “like, for real. we got a sweet new set of stairs. paris revs your engine, for god knows what reason. none of us have to pretend to be interested in how many reps manny can do at the gym. don’t look a gift apple in the stem, babe.”
manny had been leaving longer and progressively more depressing voicemails on her phone. helen honestly was starting to feel bad. like, manny had been her boyfriend for a long time. it felt kind of dumb that it would end this way.
on the other hand, he was really embarrassing, and he’d filled up priam’s car with popcorn for no goddamn reason, and she didn’t love that he was acting like if he just out-pranked the trojans, she’d come running back to him like some ... war prize, or whatever. helen was her own woman, okay. she has her own source of income, which she doesn’t even have to work that hard at because everyone loves buying weed from a hot girl, and she’s got like, literally hundreds of thousands of followers on social media. she’s verified on twitter. like, what, manny successfully filling some future hamptons-house-owning asshole’s car with popcorn is going to make her lose her mind?
come on.
anyway, this is how it’s been, lately; she feels bad and then gets annoyed and then bones paris and then feels bad again.
it’s exhausting. helen is not built for this kind of emotional complexity; she’s not sappho, for god’s sake.
“i can literally do like forty more reps than him,” athena said, drinking directly from the pitcher. sappho lifted her personalized plastic martini glass and cheersed athena with it. “i’m not even bragging, i’m just saying, like, i’ve been working out with jax and phoenix because we want to do american ninja warrior together, and jax said that manny hasn’t been to the gym literally since y’all broke up.”
sappho gasped, clutching her chest. “holy shit, i can’t believe you literally murdered manny’s whole personality, helen mellon,” she said. something twisted in helen’s stomach that she didn’t care for.
“shut up, saph,” she said again. “or i’ll take my branch out promise back.”
sappho gasped, scandalized, and athena let out a loud whoop before chugging the rest of the pitcher of frosé.
“chug, chug, chug,” sappho chanted.
dité reached out and patted helen’s arm. “just enjoy yourself, it’s all going to be fine,” she soothed. “and if it isn’t, who cares? we’re graduating. what, were you gonna marry manny atreus?”
“no,” helen said, making a face. “i mean. probably not.”
“so then chill,” dité advised. “have a little fun. it’s senior year, babe. if it’s not epic, what was the point?”
helen sighed. she reached out a hand and snapped her fingers until athena, laughing, put a red solo cup with frosé in it.
“bottoms up, bitches,” she said.
read book three
437 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi Pear! I have a question for you. I saw a while back an ask about founding a kingdom? I wanted to know if you would have any advice regarding founding a kingdom with a stolen artifact from the old kingdom? To clarify, my store revolves around a young woman who ended up with a ring that reflects a persons divine right to rule, only the goddess who first granted the kingdom the ring has decided to forsaken it as they forsook her. So MC gets ring and has to run for her life+ group of friends (a)
who are helping her have to run too. I’m debating having a border duchy/county/barony support her and become kinda the basis of operations? Idk I really just need advice I guess? The goddess helps them along a bit, and I really want my MC to kinda be forced into the role I guess? It isn’t something she wants and she thinks she’s going to be awful at it, but ancient goddesses are hard to ignore. I really appreciate anything you can help me with!!!!! forgot to mention it’s set in a hybrid renaissance/medieval world worth strong Italian points. Mostly bc I just really love Italy. Thank you again!!!!
(ask referenced, I think)
Hi there! I’m going to start off by doing some inferring about the situation so frame my own understanding--hopefully I’m getting things right, or if not, at least sparking some thoughts for you. This is long, and I apologize. You’ve got a lot of moving parts here!
In your world, gods are real. And I don’t just mean that people believe in them, but that they are corporeal entities who can choose to be physically present in your world. They actually exist outside of people’s beliefs. A particular goddess has historically been occasionally present in the Original Kingdom, and at one point bestowed a ring to them which was to indicate that an individual had her favor to rule. At some point and for some reason, the Original Kingdom decided the favor of a goddess wasn’t sufficient or an acceptable way to choose their leadership and so ceased to believe in the ring’s indication of the right to rule.
What caused this? Was it a wholesale split between the people and the goddess? Do they no longer believe the goddess exists, or were they more interested in establishing separation of church and state? Was the ring lost and they had to make do with a different system for choosing rulership that they no longer recognize the ring’s meaning? Have they begun to believe in different gods and goddesses, leaving worship toward this goddess particularly diminished? Is it just the Original Kingdom’s authority figures who have left the goddess behind, or is it the entire population?
You say: “...a ring that reflects a person’s divine right to rule, only the goddess who first granted the kingdom the ring has decided to forsake it as they forsook her.” What does “it” refer to? The Original Kingdom or the ring? I assume it means that she’s forsaken the Original Kingdom, since later you say that the goddess has been helping along your main character and her friends, but I’m not sure.
What does the Original Kingdom look like (in terms of culture) since they’ve forsaken this goddess? How have they changed? What did their beliefs and culture look like when they were still following her? How long has it been since they decided to break with the goddess?
I know that’s a lot of questions about history in your world, but I think it’ll be important for you to understand so that you can see a couple of important threads for this story. Let’s take a look.
1. The goddess has an agenda.
According to the goddess, the ring’s power and meaning is real. The goddess, while she’s displeased with the Original Kingdom’s actions, still believes in the essential good of its people. That she hasn’t revoked the ring from existing in the world and that she’s assisting those who have it in their pursuit of its original meaning tells me that she still believes the kingdom can be saved. But what does that mean to her?
Why does it matter to her that the kingdom believe in her authority to appoint a ruler? Why is it important to her that this kingdom continuing in the tradition of allowing the ring to symbolize the right to rule? Why doesn’t she just step in physically, remove the ruler she sees as unfit and place the ruler she wants on the throne?
From her perspective, the right of the ring is the right path for the kingdom, and by forsaking it, the Original Kingdom has veered onto the wrong path. What makes her path right? Why is she here? What’s she after? What’s her agenda?
2. The Original Kingdom has an agenda.
Do the authority figures of the Original Kingdom care about the existence of the ring? If they’ve decided not to follow the goddess’s decisions any more about who should rule, how are they handling those who do still believe?
Are they concerned about the ring? Do they know where the ring is? Are they aware that your main character has apparently been chosen by the ring? Are they actively trying to obtain the ring to hide it away or destroy it?
On what basis are they now claiming the right to rule? What made the idea of the ring so distasteful to them? How are they enforcing that belief throughout the kingdom?
What are they doing? What are they up to? Kingdoms never simply exist without striving toward some kind of goal. How is the rulership using their power and resources? What are they doing?
3. The duchy has an agenda.
(I know you haven’t decided what exactly you want it to be/call it, but I’m going to call the place your main character and friends go a duchy for now.)
A duchy (or frankly, any of the other options you listed) are still a part of the Original Kingdom. They’re still under the rule of whoever is on the throne, and the duke’s continued power in that place is dependent upon their power to repel any attacks made by the throne.
If the ruler on the throne got wind of the duke doing something the throne didn’t agree with and wanted to remove the duke from power, it’s possible for the duke to rebel and choose to stay in their land, but then it’s up to the duke to also be able to repel any attacks the throne makes against them.
The duchy is only an effective ally to your main character’s group if the duchy can defend them. That’s a lot of resources and manpower you’re talking about, so what’s in it for the duchy? What’s making them cooperate and help out? What stakes do they have in this fight? What do they want, and how far are they willing to go to help your characters?
4. The population has a say, too.
How much sentiment remains in the population toward the goddess? Are there people who would believe in the legitimacy of the claim of someone coming forward with the ring? The longer it’s been since the Original Kingdom decided to forego the use of the ring, the fewer people will still believe that A) it exists, and B) is legitimately goddess-blessed and still a good way to choose rulership.
Does your main character have a chance of making a claim and being accepted? The answer to that lies not at all with your main character and lies partially with the goddess (and her willingness to step in and act, and what her power is like) and partially with the people. If they don’t believe in her, it’s entirely possible for them to throw their own coup in response.
5. Your main character must make a commitment, one way or the other.
What’s her stance on the goddess? Sure, she’s physically seen the goddess, but does she agree with the goddess’ agenda? Does she agree that the ring is the right way to choose a ruler? Does she think the path the goddess is trying to put the Original Kingdom on is also the right path, like the goddess does?
Regardless of whether she thinks she’ll actually be a good ruler or not, she first has to decide if the premise of this thing is even one she stands behind. And yes, that is a choice. The presence of the goddess does in no way prove that this ring and this path is right for the Original Kingdom. What makes her believe? What future does she see the ring giving the Original Kingdom? How does she come to agree that whoever has this ring should be on the throne?
Only once she agrees to the legitimacy of the ring’s decision can she then begin to understand her own place in all of it. Is she the right person? Maybe not, but was every single one of the previous rulers chosen by the ring perfect or good rulers either? Probably not. Are there people around her who can help her make good decisions and understand the things she doesn’t understand about how the kingdom works?
What happens that helps her come to terms with the fact that she’s been chosen? If she believes that the goddess’ intentions are good for the future of the kingdom, then it follows that she’s been chosen for that same reason: she is good for the future of the kingdom. How can she see that?
What happens or who says what in order to help her understand that despite her feelings of inadequacy, there is reason to believe she will be a force for good. Is being a force for good even important to her? What happens if she says no? Will the ring simply move on to choose someone else? Can she pass the metaphorical cup by?
What kind of message about free will and the power of individual choice are you trying to make with the story?
6. Founding a new kingdom while the original kingdom still exists is unlikely without a bigger, much lengthier battle.
Even if the duchy was able to repel attacks from the Original Kingdom, your main character and her group of friends have many of the same problems as the people in that previous ask linked at the top of this post. They have to have people to rule, which requires accumulating people who believe in the legitimacy of the claim and are willing to put their lives at risk to see it into fruition. The Original Kingdom will always see this New Kingdom as a risk, even when they’re small.
They’re threatening to secede with a whole big portion of land (the duchy) that’s proven itself to be fairly powerful (if it can indeed throw off any attacks from the throne), taking not just the land but also the military, the general population (plus any people who choose to leave the other areas of the kingdom and move to the duchy of the new kingdom in order to support it), and the resources of the area with them.
That’s not a small blow to the Original Kingdom, and the New Kingdom won’t thrive until they’ve dealt a decisive blow or otherwise shown themselves capable of sustaining themselves to force the Original Kingdom to recognize them as their own entity.
Until that happens, they’ll be just trying to survive. They’ll have some advantages over the group in the other ask because they could conceivably (depending on how the story goes) have the framework of the duchy already built for them to use as foundations. They have agriculture already going, they have houses and structures and roads and settlements already established. They actually have borders and land carved out for them.
They’ll probably function very similarly to how the duchy functions in terms of legislation and settling of disputes, but they’ll have some advantages over those trying to establish a kingdom from scratch. They’ll still have to figure out how money, how to handle class or any stratification they wish to continue enforcing, law enforcement in general, and how they’re going to address/incorporate/honor the goddess in with all the new proceedings.
The Kingfountain series by Jeff Wheeler might be of some use to you, too. While certainly not the same, it does deal quite a bit with the right to rule, how physically-present religion plays into that, and personal identity.
I know this is a lot, so take your time sifting through it. Hopefully you’ve already answered some of these questions as you’ve been writing and/or planning, so now it’s just time to think about how it all comes together and be put into practice. Good luck! -Pear
20 notes
·
View notes