#(nevermind the first *complete* piece of writing)

[rockstvrdotcom]

Hey cutie!!! Can i request a s/o who has a cold looks, she has experience vibes, a cruel mouth with sharp words. But in bedroom, she's innocent and curious about everything as shit, that makes her partner super surprised and they want that naive just do for them.

I wish it for EJ, Toby plssssssss. 🥺🥺🥺 (With NSFW kinda yummy yummy 😋)

Oh anyway, I love your writing alooooooot, it's really gooood just took my heart away at the first line!!!! Kiss kiss kiss 💋💋💋💋

I'm your 💅 lovely anon. Nice to meet you!!!

oh em gee HIII NICE TO MEET U TOO MWAH MWAH THANK U FOR THE SWEET WORDS <33

while i was writing ej i was gonna say "he rolled his eyes" but then i remembered he has no eyes..

IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE AGSJDHSJS </333 FORGIVE ME NONNIE

tw/cw: praise, oral sex, unexperienced reader, fem reader, also just regular sex, slight spanking

EYELESS JACK ☤

out of the bedroom, the words that come of your mouth are completely different from in the bedroom.

"shut up, jack" you spoke sharply, rolling your eyes. he tch'd in response. you were both watching a movie on the couch, his arm around your shoulder; and your arms crossed.

you acted like you hated the affection he gave you, but really— you adored him. that's why when a sex scene in the movie came on and you felt ej's hard on, you asked if he needed help.

"don't think of it as anything special, i'm just bored. that's all" you spoke, giving him a cold stare, your back facing him. you turned around, your cheeks flushed with a light pink color.

"yeah yeah, whatever" ej said, biting the inside of his cheek. he looked at your face, eyes admiring you. he cupped your cheek with his hand, and leaned in for a kiss. you kissed back, hands around his neck to deepen the kiss.

he then took you by the waist, sitting back down on the couch and straddling your hips onto his; the bulge in his pants rubbing against your crotch and his lips still connected with yours.

you pulled back from the kiss, looking at him with a slight hint of worry. "i.. tell me if i'm doing something wrong. i've never done anything like this before." you said, looking at him with innocent eyes. his eyebrows raised in suprise, then he gently nodded.

"you're doing great." he smiled slightly, his fangs slightly poking out. you bit your lip hard to hide your smile, trying to look grumpy at his compliment. suddenly, it was like the outbursts of rage, the scratches, and the hard glares were from a completely different person. your mean and cold facade was cracking— and ej wanted to get through to you completely.

you got on your knees on the floor, patting his legs as a signal to spread them; and he did. you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his sweats and boxers, pulling them both down just about enough so his cock could spring out.

you looked at his size, your mouth slightly agape. you contemplated if you could actually take him or not— he looked down at you with a cocky smirk on his face, causing you to scoff.

you got back to work, wrapping your hand around his dick and slowly jerking him off. you noticed his breathing became heavy, making you feel more confident as you picked up the pace of your hand.

you hand came to an abrupt stop; he looked down at you confused. "what happened?" he asked, resisting the urge to buck his hips up for more friction.

"c-.. can i lick it? like suck it i mean— you know what. nevermind." you tried to ask, but just turned your head away in embarrassment. you puffed out your cheeks in humiliation and narrowed your eyes. you were about to start jerking him off again, until he grabbed your wrist.

you turn your head to look at him. "you can do it." he said, encouraging you and twirling a piece of your hair around his finger. he grabbed you by the hair, bringing your face inches from his dick.

you cleared your throat, trying not to stare at his dick— that was literally right infront of you. you straightened your posture and placed your hands comfortably on his thighs.

you started off with little kitten licks— which jack thought was adorable by the way; then slowly progressed. and finally, your lips were wrapped around his dick, your head bobbing up and down and your fist jerking off whatever part you couldn't take into your mouth.

"mm.. fuck, you look so cute right now.." he purred, biting his lip as he smirked. you looked up and glared at him, only to have him tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

he thrusted his hips up into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. he did it again, and again— something about the way your throat clenched around him made his dick throb with need.

"fuck, baby— 'm cumming" he grunted, doing one last thrust into your mouth before releasing with his dick deep in your throat. you hummed around his dick, then sliding off with a 'pop' when he gave you the sign it was ok to.

"suprised you've never done this before, you're a natural." he joked, playfully punching you in the shoulder. you pushed his hand away, scoffing.

"oh shush." you said, gritting your teeth. he laughed. he pulled you up, making you stand on your feet. he swiftly turned you around then sat you down on his lap.

"so she's back to her old self huh? you remind me of the grinch." he poked at your puffed out cheeks. you slapped his hand away, cursing at him.

TICCI TOBY ✽

he watched in amusement as you curiously roamed your hands over his bare stomach. "don't look at me like that." you demanded, and he scoffed. your eyes averted back to his torso, admiring his toned abs that were literred with all different types of scars.

"you're the one who has their hands all over me." he retorted. you couldn't see his face, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"just shut up, toby" you said, tracing his abs with your fingers. he chuckled at your actions. after a while, he took ahold of your hands so you couldn't touch him anymore

"hey, pretty, why dont 'cha just hop on my dick and ride me already? pleasee?" he begged. he noticed the change of expression in your face, you looked more flustered and serious.

"what's wrong?" he asked, his playful tone now replaced with a more stern one. he took a piece of your hair and played with it as he awaited your answer.

you avoided eye contact. "i- uh... i'm a virgin." you spoke, barely a whisper. you scratched your head in awkwardness, awaiting his response. you were still looking away

"what'd you say? i don't think i heard you correctly." toby asked, genuinely. you silently cursed him.

"i'm a virgin.." you spoke a little louder. you finally looked up at him to see him confused. then his expression brightened up, a confused laugh escaping his throat.

"why the hell are you laughing, asshole?!" you yelled, your embarrassment obvious on your face as you bit your cheek. he held his hand up to his mouth, trying to stop himself from laughing.

"nonono- i'm not making fun of you. i just didn't expect it! that's all. you seem like somebody who's experienced. no wonder why your so curious.." he reasoned, holding your chin with his hand. you muttered a 'whatever'. secretly, the thought of him being your first time made him throb.

"don't worry, sweetheart. i'll guide you." he spoke, and you weren't able to tell if he was mocking you or if he was being genuine. you sat up straight, starting to take off your clothes, one by one. now you were left in your matching lacy red bra and panties.

"shut up. i know what i'm doing, i'll do it myself." you voiced coldly. you roughly undid his belt, then his zipper. you looked up at him, and he nodded. you pulled his pants down, eyes roaming around; coming to a halt when you saw his happy trail peeking out of the waistband of his boxers.

your eyes drifted lower down, looking at the huge bulge in his boxers. you felt your wetness pooling in your panties, your pussy clenching around nothing and wishing it was toby. your clit ached to be touched, a whine almost escaping your throat.

"what? too big?" he said, making you look up. a cocky smirk was plastered on his face. you tch'd and palmed him slowly through his boxers, watching him automatically shut up and his face turn a little red.

you hooked your fingers under the elastic waistband of toby's boxers, pulling it down. you watched in awe as his cock sprung free; now you were really questioning if it was too big.

you were already wet, so you figured it'd be fine- and he fingered you before this. you climbed ontop of him, feeling his eyes watch your every move.

your palms were sweaty as you moved your panties to the side, aligning the tip of his dick with your entrance. you winced and bit your lip before lowering yourself onto him.

"fuck.." you heard him groan as your walls enveloped his cock. you looked up at him, his eyes blown with lust and cheeks lit up with pink.

"a- am i doing this right?" you asked, your voice shaky as you slowly rode him. he nodded.

"the only thing your doing wrong is not going fast enough." he complained, tempted to grab you roughly by the hips and bounce you up and down on his cock until you can't say anything but his name. and if you didn't pick up the pace, he was sure his temptation would take control.

you nodded profusely, leaning forward. you trapped his head inbetween your two hands, praying that whatever you do next will please him and not embarass you.

your chest was now against his and your lips were interlocked as you rode his dick, sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

he groaned, deepening the kiss. his hands gently held your waist, not guiding you but basically telling you that you were doing all the right things.

you felt his hand move up to your breast, then taking it into his hand and rolling your nipple inbetween his fingers. you moaned, but not once removing yourself from his lips. you clenched around him and felt him throb inside of you, making you whimper. he leaned back, breaking the kiss.

"you're doing so good— fuck you're so hot." he panted, leaning into the crook of your neck then leaving soft kisses along your jaw.

the room began to feel hotter than before— if even possible. short breaths escaped your mouth, your orgasm getting nearer and nearer.

you watched his jaw tighten, his groans coming to a stop; now only silent pants. his brows furrowed, seemingly frustrated.

before you could even say anything, his hands gripped your hips— hard enough that you knew it would leave a bruise.

next thing you were sliding up and down on his dick roughly, toby leaving no time for you to even catch a break as he knew he was close and so were you.

silent moans escaped your lips; sounds of your pleasure caught in your throat. he thrusted up deeper into you, his thrusts erratic and desperate.

he grabbed you by the back of your neck and made you lean down close enough to him that you could feel him breathing on your neck. he bit down hard as he let out a loud groan.

you cried out in pain and pleasure as you felt him release inside of you a few seconds after he bit you. your orgasm washed over you, tears blurring your vision as you moaned out his name in a whisper.

he thrusted up into you, the both of your riding out your orgasms. once you two became tired, you collapsed on him, your legs sore.

you felt a hand on your thigh, but your eyes were struggling to open. you felt soft kisses litter your temple and forehead, and toby's fingers pushing any cum that leaked out back into your aching cunt.

"goodnight, pretty."

#smut #creepypasta #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #tobias rogers #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby smut #eyeless jack #ej creepypasta #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack x reader

[hanniebanggi]

i love you • j.ww

genre: fluff

not proofread ! this is so rushed, i listened to this song and just decided to write this. it 3 am here btw lol.

stolen stares, stolen glances.

that's what wonwoo and y/n were used to.

or they got used to it.

wonwoo's heart beats so fast as if he is running a thousand miles with every touch of their lips, with every romantic touch, the burning desire for each other.

"won, what are we?"

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i mean." y/n said as they lie down on wonwoo's chest, sitting on a tub full of water and bubbles. both naked and fragile.

"we're friends. you're gyu's sibling. of course we're friends."

y/n sighed as they stood up, leaving the bathtub, covering theirself with a towel and leaving the bathroom.

"really? you're unbelievable."

he wishes. oh, how he wish he could put a name to what the two of you really are.

fuck the bro code.

no.

fuck being a coward.

he loves y/n so much. since he first saw y/n when they moved in front of his home.

he knows he loves y/n. y/n knows that as well. and its just a matter of when he is going to say it.

its been 5 years.

"5 years. five years of sharing kisses, five years of fucking. and dont fucking tell me its all normal because i know its not. im not a kid anymore. say it."

"s-say what?" wonwoo said as he followed y/n.

"be true to youself for once! you've said it to me when you're drunk. why not say it to me now that you're sober?"

tears on the verge of falling, as your hands are clenched on the towel that's covering y/n.

how he hates seeing you cry. but he hates it more when he's the reason of it.

"i-i—"

ten seconds became twenty. thirty. a minute. no words came out after that.

wonwoo stuttered, standing in front of them with head hanging low.

"you know what? nevermind. how long do i have to wait? do i always need to beg for you?"

"im sorry."

y/n hit his chest, all the frustration, and the mutual pining that could've solved with just one word.

"i love you."

.

.

.

y/n said.

"that's all i want to hear from you. but it looks like i'm just wasting my time, no?"

"im sorry. im sorry." wonwoo's voice quivered, as if something pulled his heartstrings and completely broke it.

"and im tired. this is the last time im going to see you for this bullshit. i want you. but not like this! i want your love. i want it all. and i know you wanna give it to me but why can't you?"

only sniffles were heard. and footsteps leaving the house.

wonwoo sat on the bed as y/n left. looking at the piece of jacket that was forgotten.

"i love you. i do. im sorry im such a coward. im sorry. i wanna give you everything. i really do. please... please—"

his voice squeaked as he took the jacket and placed it on his lap.

" —come back."

stolen stares, stolen glances.

that's what wonwoo is used to. or he got used to.

as he clapped along the huge crowd. celebrating your engagement with his brother, chan.

as the crowd's cheer died down. wonwoo reached out for the two.

"congratulations." he said as he hugged the two.

"i love you." wonwoo muttered.

"you finally said it—" chan said after wonwoo removed his embrace.

"— for the first time in my life, i heard my brother say i love you to me,this is crazy.'

"thank you, wonwoo." y/n said.

"no problem." he said with a small smile as he looked at them.

'i love you.'

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - uhhh... so i lied.

genre: angst

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt drabbles #wonwoo x reader #spotify #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen angst #svt angst #wonwoo angst #svt wonwoo #svt wonu

[lankayu]

sanuso worms in my brainnnn😵‍💫 welcome to sanji’s struggle of being in love for the first time and not quite knowing how to go about confessions

i am a firm believer of sanji being in denial from little garden to water 7. after usopp returns to the crew, sanji finally comes to terms with his feelings for usopp as that gaping hole in his chest is filled by his presence — and following the acceptance comes the unbearable tension when he’s around the sniper. nothing has changed between them; sanji still respects usopp as the brave talented sniper he is…in fact, they’re even closer after the battle at enies lobby. sanji argued that it made the matter of his intensifying crush worse. but of course, the awkwardness was all in his head and it was his fault he couldn’t act normal around usopp or talk like they used to

but he misses talking to him. he couldn’t stand the thought of usopp permanently leaving the crew and never getting the chance to see him again. and now usopp is here, sailing alongside them, as things should be. he misses him so much so pulls himself out of his head and musters the courage to make a decision; he’ll tell usopp how he feels. it’ll fix whatever’s going on with him hopefully, because he’s been swatting these thoughts away like flies for months now but he can’t deny any longer how much more than a friend he wants to be to the sharpshooter. the only problem is that he can’t quite figure out how to tell him

sanji remembers that sunset at water 7, that bridge, where he had overheard usopp rehearsing stupid scenarios to get the straw hats to take him back (he still cant quite place why he had stuck around to listen to the idiotic display) and it gives him an idea. next thing he knows he finds himself pacing back and forth in the kitchen, rehearsing different scenarios of “the big moment.” he doesn’t want to come off as a sap, but he also doesn’t want to play it casual because he needs it to be special. this could either completely ruin them or complete them and sanji couldn’t fuck it up

after writing out a declaration of love on a piece of paper and practicing said declaration out loud and probably getting walked in on a few times by the sunny’s local food thief (luffy) he decides this rehearsing stuff is stupid and usopp is an idiot for doing silly stuff like this and why the hell did he even try something so ridiculous and fuck it all, he was just going to wait until the right moment because that’s maybe the most romantic way to go about it (even if it means this’ll take 5 more months)

there’d definitely be multiple instances where sanji has the perfect opportunity and tries to tell usopp before immediately backing out, muttering serious “it’s nothing” “nevermind” ‘s and whatnot, leaving usopp dumbfounded everytime. but he already sorta knows (more so just has his suspicions and mutual feelings to return) so he decides he’ll let the cook figure things out on his own until he’s ready. because knowing sanji, he’s probably going through an identity crisis because of him…usopp does feel the slightest bit bad that someone like him has put sanji in such a dilemma

I think the moment that the confession leaves sanji’s mouth would be the most inconvenient moment possible. possibly…. in the middle of battle, when they’re both pumping with adrenaline. possibly when usopp snipes an enemy that was just about to slice a distracted sanji in half — and the cook is so pathetically head over heels at this point, his bottled up love and the overwhelming feeling of admiration in his chest overflowing all at once, he just outright blurts out “i love you” when usopp asks if he’s okay and he doesn’t even realize what’s been said and done until usopp is cheekily smiling at him, saying something along the lines of “i know”

sanji doesn’t even get a chance to process what just happened in the span of 10 seconds before he’s forced back into battle, another wave of opponents storming the battlefield. he’ll have to deal with it later

#sanuso #sanji you know how usopp’s rehearsing ended why did you even..?? #sanuso soulmatism they both end up saying their true feelings in the heat of the moment #they’re sweet #usosan #one piece #and then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you

[quokki]

Full giffing process - tutorial (*≧ω≦*)

Due to little demand, i will be going thru my complete process for making gifs. so this will cover all the basics i hope! keep in mind this is just the way I personally do things! please feel free to send me asks or dms if you have any doubts or questions!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ DISCLAIMER: Everything I know about giffing, I've learned from other tutorials, including the VapourSynth Resources I'll be using in this tutorial so I'll leave links to those tutorials I've used here as well!

In Depth Giffing Tutorial (link here) How to use VapourSynth (link here) ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

(o´▽`o) I'm a windows user so idk if this works exactly the same on mac!

First things first, you will need:

☆ 4k video downloader (download it here!) ☆ Vapoursynth (download it here!) ☆ Photoshop (download it here! -64bit version only)

Okay! The first thing you need to do is make sure you're working with the highest quality material possible to ensure a decent looking gif!

I'd say the minimum quality needed for decent gifs is 1080px. But if you really want to gif that low quality 2 frame milisecond of your fave, i respect that

☆ lives / streams and tiktoks are typically not very high quality ☆ for stage performances such as music shows, ts/tp files are preferred but those can be really hard to get a hold of (this is a whole deeper level of giffing hell and more of an advanced class topic so nevermind this for now!) ☆ those occasional 4k facecams on youtube work fine tho! ☆ for mvs, variety shows etc, you can download the video with good quality from youtube using 4k video downloader

_(:3 」∠)_

Now let's talk about tumblr and it's pre-requisites for a good looking gif post :D

Tumblr can be sooooo annoying about gifs okay.... I find it's best to plan my whole set before I actually start doing anything but hey that's just me. Some things to keep in mind are: dimensions, file size, number of frames and post layout!

☆ Dimensions

You have 3 main options here and it's all about the width!

☆ 1 collumn: single gifs! these should be 540px wide ☆ 2 collumns: split that in half! 268px wide so there's a lil breathing space between the gifs! ☆ 3 collumns: 3's a party! 177px for each gif please

You can go crazy on the height but the width should mostly stick to one of those 3 unless you want tumblr to pull and squeeze your gif around like a piece of gum.

☆ File Size

This is really important because tumblr has a single image size limit of 10mb. Which means that every single gif you make has to be under that size or you won't be able to post it. The other thing about this is that the dimensions, number of frames and ammount of varying colors throughtout your gif will greatly impact on the final file size. Basically, the larger the dimensions and the more frames it has, the bigger the final file will be. Later on I will show you how to check your gif's final size before exporting it!

☆ Number of frames

This has more to do with the length of your gif, the longer it is, the bigger the final file will be. Typically gifs should be under 3 seconds long. So if you are making a set, try to break the moments you want to include in your set by increments of up to 2 - 3 seconds each, otherwise it might not fit all into one single gif. The number of frames is also extremely important when making combined gifs but that's for another tutorial.

☆ Post layout

If you want to make a cool looking gifset (where some gifs are larger in dimension than others, or when you want to have a single gif followed by a line of 2 gifs next to each other), then it might be worth it to plan out the layout before you start making the gifs. This way you ensure you won't have to remake gifs down the line because they don't fit together the way you wanted to.

☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ

Timestamping

For this step, you will go through the video you want to gif from and you will just write down all the sections you want to use, down to the exact seconds. Example: 02:30 - 02:32.

(^◕ᴥ◕^)

VapourSynth (VS) - Clipping the video

I know VS can look pretty intimidating with it's bare coding and all but I promise it can be your friend. You just have to set it up correctly and pay close attention whenever you're using it. This software is a must for giffing, it will do all your cropping, resizing, sharpening and denoising for you, making sure your gifs look good. It is also indispensable when giffing ts/tp files because it deinterlaces those files so you can clip them.

First, let's set it up. This is the most annoying and difficult part of this tutorial so make sure you pay full attention to every single step!

☆ step 1) download a version of VS here (link).

☆ step 2) unzip the file on your desktop area.

☆ step 3) open the folder and find the file named "vapourscript (drop video file on me)" - make a shortcut of that file and move it to the desktop.

☆ step 4) find the folder named "gifs" - make a shortcut of that file and move it to the desktop.

☆ step 5) drag your video file you want to gif from and drop it on top of the "vapourscript (drop video file on me)" shortcut on your desktop.

☆ step 6) enter the timestamp input, in the first line it will be the starting of your timestamp, in hours format, then hit enter. in the second line enter how long your timestamps lasts, in seconds, also in hours format. then hit enter and let the code run.

☆ step 7) the resizer tab should now load on a web browser, then you will set the dimensions of your gif on the top left corner. you can also adjust the position of your gif within the video screen and zoom in if wanted.

☆ step 8) choose the preprocessor, denoise and sharpening options on the left and tick the boxes on. I usually just stick to the settings i'm using in my video down below.

☆ step 9) now in the VS box, go to file > load, choose the script saved in the gifs folder.

☆ step 10) copy the code from the resizer into the code in the vs screen, under the designated line.

☆ step 11) alter the code exactly like I did in my video down below. save it. this is now your default vs script for clipping your gifs. what you are doing by adding the hastag and the quotation marks is you're disabling those sections of the code. the reason you do that is in case you want to run the preview before exporting. this is because those lines involve some heavy graphic processing which can make the computer slow. I will talk about the script in more detail later on.

☆ step 12) i don't usually use this option but you can also preview your gif and set specific frames to start and end your gif. This is around the 4:30 mark in the video.

☆ step 13) time to export your clip! now you will temporarily remove the marks you added to disable the code and then go to script > encode video. in the popup box, you will select the option "export to MOV", then start so that you can use that video file in photoshop later.

☆ step 14) after you are done exporting, close the encoding box and then close vapoursynth, never agree to save the script when closing it, or that will override your default script.

☆ step 15) now you need to rename the encoded file for your gif. go to the gifs shortcut folder you created on your desktop, then go to output. this is the folder where VS will save all your encoded files. but everytime it saves the file with the same name so you need to come to this folder and change the name for every gif file you encode before you clip a new one, otherwise VS will just replace the previous clip with the new one you just finished.

Here's a detailed walk through of each step in this video tutorial:

IMPORTANT

After you are done processing your first clipped file, now you have your default script already built in VS, so whenever you run it to clip more videos, this script will already be in your VS screen. So now all you need to do whenever you want to clip more files (to make more gifs) is to adjust the dimensions, positioning and zoom of the video in the resizer screen and then change a few numbers in your script! then run encode to save the clipped file.

☆ To make new clips: go thru steps 5- 7, also do 8 if you want to mess with the denoise and sharpening filters again, but I don't really know much about how those work so I can't help you with this.

Now what you need to alter in the code, each time you are making a new gif: after you run VS and change the settings in the resizer to what you want, you need to change the zoom numbers and the video positioning in the code.

you need to replace the numbers in the VS script on the left so they match the numbers in the resizer on the right.

Do step 12 if you want to set specific frames to clip. Then steps 13 - 15 and you are done! You need to do all this every single time you want to make a new gif.

Now let me talk a bit more about some of the lines in this script:

☆ line 14: #video = core.std.Trim(video, a, b) this line is to set specific frames to trim your video section, your final encoded file will be only the frames inbetween the numbers you input here. a = first frame, b = last frame. you will need to run the preview option in VS in order to see every single frame of your clip and select your first and last frame. I usually do this in photoshop later instead so I don't bother with it on VS unless i'm making combined gifs, in which you need all the clips to have the exact same number of frames. the hashtag at the beginning of this line means that the script won't follow this command when executed. so if you want to include it, you need to remove the hashtag before encoding your file.

☆ line 18: #video = haf.QTGMC(video, Preset="Slower", TFF=True) this line is for the preprocessor option in VS, that tool is mainly only used when giffing ts/tp files because you need to deinterlace them before you can use them on photoshop. so you will only need to remove the hashtag and enable it when giffing those types of files. when im giffing those files, i usually always keep it with this setting:

I don't really understand much about this so I never mess with it. If you want to know more, I believe there's more info about it in the tutuorials I linked at the beginning of my post.

☆ line 22: video = descale.Debilinear(video, 786,442) this line is for the zoom of the video screen. you just need to match what you have in your VS script to what you end up with in your resizer.

☆ line 25: video = core.knlm.KNLMeansCL(video, 1, 2, 4, 2.5, channels="YUV") this line is for the denoising filters, in my case I always use KNLM and this is what it's line looks like. I know you can change those numbers to change the filtering settings but I never messed with it so I'd usually just have it like that.

☆ line 27: video = fun.FineSharp(video, sstr=2.5) this line is for the sharpening, in my case I always use FineSharp and this is what it's line looks like. I know you can change the number to change it's settings but I never messed with it so I'd usually just have it like that.

note: lines 25 and 27 (which have to do with denoise and sharpening) are the ones within quotation marks in your default script. I believe the quotations work in a similar way as the hashtag, in which the script only executes the lines when the quotations are removed. Which is what you do everytime you are about to encode your clip, otherwise they stay on. I think you should also remove them if you want to test how they affect your gif in the preview screen but i think these filters also require heavier graphic processing which my computer can't handle well so I never do that.

☆ line 30: video = core.std.CropRel(video, left=303, top=16, right=215, bottom=26) this line is for the positioning of your video screen within the gif dimensions. you just need to match what you have in your VS script to what you end up with in your resizer.

ʕ •̀ o •́ ʔ

Photoshop (PS) - let's make a gif!

Now that we have clipped and preprocessed our video file, it's ready to go to photoshop!

☆ step 1) after you have opened PS, go to File > Import > Video Frames to Layers. Then choose the clipped file you created through VS.

PS should open a box like this:

Keep those options ticked and hit OK

☆ step 2) now you need to go to Window > Timeline to bring up the timeline tool box. This window will always be necessary when making gifs. Let's take a look at it, I've marked down all the important buttons you will need:

timeline menu: there are several commands in here, you will need to use some of them later on.

convert to video / frame timeline

play controls to watch your gif

trash can to delete selected frames. (when deleting frames, first delete them here and then delete it's matching layers which are still there after deleting the frames)

frame delay time: this is where you set the time for how long that frame will be visible in your gif

☆ step 3) remember how I mentioned the preview option in VS and how i don't usually use it to trim the frames of my clip? That's because I usually do that at this step of the process, in PS. Notice how each frame is also a layer, and when a frame is selected, the matching layer has the eye symbol next to it turned on. So now you should play your gif and see if there are any frames you don't want to keep, then delete the frames and it's matching layers.

Since we applied sharpening filters back when we were clipping the video on VS, your clip should probably already look pretty decent even before the next steps, so steps 4 - 9 are optional. The coloring part of my video has been sped up.

☆ step 4) click on the timeline menu and select "Select all frames", then go to the select menu at the top of the PS screen and select "All layers". Now click on button 2 of the timeline at the bottom left, switching from the frame timeline to the video timeline.

☆ step 5) before you do anything else, make sure the blue holder is at the beginning of the track before you do anything else. Then go to Filter (at the top of PS) and select "Convert for smart filters". This will convert all the layers into one single layer.

☆ step 6) now make sure the layer is selected, then go to Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen. A box will open with several options:

I usually keep the amount to around 30, I don't touch on radius and you can also mess with reduce noise if you think your gif is looking too sharp. Hit OK when you're done.

Since this is a filter applied to a smart object (the converted layer that contains all our layer - frames), this means you can turn this filter on or off as long as the layers are in the form of a smart object. You can also go back to it and alter it's settings (like I've done in my video down below)

☆ step 7) now while making sure the blue holder is still at the beginning of the track and the layer is selected, click on the timeline menu that i mentioned above. Then go to Convert Frames, then select Flatten frames into clips.

☆ step 8) again go to the timeline menu, Convert Frames, but now select Make Frames from Clips. Now click on the button at the bottom left of the timeline box, to convert the video timeline back into a frame animation. Then hit continue in the pop up box.

☆ step 9) now you are back to the frame timeline screen from before, but now the first frame is empty. You need to delete that first frame and then check the final frame because sometimes PS also creates another empty frame at the end at this point.

☆ step 10) PS also created a new layer under the layer 0, where the filter is still applied, you can delete this new layer as well. Now for organizational purposes, select all remaining layers (that contain your frames) and group them (you can see how in the video).

☆ step 11) This step is also optional, now I like to add the coloring to the gif. I have a separate tutorial exclusively on this topic. You can check it here:

☆ step 12) This is the time when I also add my signature. This is optional. You need to have the signature layer(s) on top of all the other layers. I usually have it in all black or all white, with lowered opacity of around 40%.

NOTE:

When adding elements (such as a signature) to a gif, it's important to always make sure you have the first frame selected, otherwise PS can move your newly added elements around the canvas on different and random frames. This also applies to anything in the layers pannel that has specific opacities. It's best to already add the elements with the final wanted opacity with the first frame selected.

Exporting + Delay time

☆ step 13) To export: go to File > Export > Save for web (Legacy). PS will open this box:

First I just use the exporting screen to test the delay time of my gif, and to check the gif's final size.

About the size: The final size is displayed at the bottom left. Remember it needs to be under 10mb. If it's above that, then you will have to go back and delete frames and test again until the size is within the limit.

About the delay time: To test the delay time, hit that play button and the gif will play at it's default delay time. If it's too fast or too slow, you will hit cancel and change the delay time (at the next step).

For actual exporting: The highlighted box at the top right of the screen is very relevant now. Make sure the first box has the GIF option selected. At the next box, you can select either perceptual, selective or adaptive. I usually like to use adaptive. At the next box you need to choose either diffusion or pattern. I like to use pattern. Tick the transparency box and then select either pattern or diffusion transparency dither.

Once you are satisfied with all aspects of your gif, hit save to export your final gif.

To fix the delay time: After you have exited the export box, go back to your timeline, click on the menu button at the top right and select "Select all frames". Then, on any random frame, click at the small arrow next to the numbers under the frame. Select the option "Other". That will open a pop up box to alter the delay time. To test it again, use the export box explained above. Once you are satisfied, save your gif! I've also altered the delay time in my video to show you the process.

☆ step 14) After your gif is done and saved, I'd suggest to save your psd file if you added any coloring to it. This is so you can reuse the coloring later in other gifs without having to redo it all. This is useful if mking a set of gifs from the same moment / video.

Here's a detailed walk through of each PS step in this video tutorial:

I hope this tutorial is helpful! Feel free to send me any asks if you have doubts or need extra help! (つ≧▽≦)つ

#gif tutorial #tutorial #giffing #fxb #resources #Youtube

[aliasrocket]

༊﹒ROCKET GOES TO THERAPY.

self explanatory. 1.6k words.

inspired by this post by @elegant-fleuret . Probably gonna make more ‘sessions’ in the form of chapters, but I’m not sure yet.

“Do you know why you’re here, Mr …”

She trails off. The ‘r’ goes on for a while and Rocket tapped his foot to a nonexistent rhythm. He grinned.

“You’re really not gonna help me out here?”

“Nope,” Rocket replied, popping the ‘p’ before his lips returned to the same curled position.

“Alright.” She nodded. “Do you know why you’re here, Mr Raccoon?”

“Gah, now that just sounds like somethin’ off of a kid’s book, scratch that,” Rocket protested, his face scrunching up to form a grimace.

Since he’d first entered the blinding white room, Rocket’s back was completely slumped against the couch, his legs falling wherever was most natural—and that had apparently been fairly wide apart. To him, that is. One arm dangled behind the cream couch and the other rested on his thigh.

“You chose the name yourself, didn’t you?” The woman smiled with a lower of her head. She pushed up her rectangular glasses on its bridge with a knuckle on her finger.

Rocket’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“I suppose the quote on quote ‘kid’s book’ aspect didn’t cross your mind when you were deciding on it?”

She had a clipboard in her hand and a pen in the other. Though, currently, the hand with the pen held her knee with the pen intertwined in her fingers whereas she kept the clipboard snug on her forearm, holding it by its metal clip at the top.

Rocket sighed, looking away. Even the floors were a bright white.

“What exactly are you writing on there?” Rocket asked, crossing his arms when his eyes made their way back to the woman.

“It’s not anything you’re going to tell me, if that’s your concern.” She readjusted in her seat, leaning a little closer this time. “It’s only so I can remember the things we can work with.”

The smile that seemed to leave a permanent mark on her face was gentle; there was a glint where the light met it, like she had been wearing baby pink lipgloss.

Rocket pressed his lips together every time he was on the brink of spilling just a little bit of his bile onto the glass coffee table between them. Years and years of torment, self loathing, disgust and vomiting all kinds of colors wasn’t really something Rocket had planned on unpacking. He’d had it in the bag for probably two decades, maybe a few more years—unpacking it would make putting it all back so much harder.

It’s not an item he’s unpacking, they’re not even items—they’re pieces. The way they’re deep within his guts was meticulously placed there to fit, nevermind they’re jutting out in every direction and tearing him from the inside out—it fit. That’s all that mattered.

“Okay, maybe we should start somewhere else … Groot tells me you’re a mechanic. A pretty good one at that,” she spoke up, Rocket’s eyes darting back to her own. She was digging into him, he could see it in her gaze—it never left his. But then again, Rocket had been looking away for some time now.

“A little bit of an understatement, but sure,” Rocket remarked in a pitchy voice. He shrugged.

“How so?” She quizzed once more.

Rocket frowned.

read the rest on ao3.

Taglist : @caesarhamato22 @cosmic-lavender @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @momahoneypleasesugar @ludibry @baloneyslacks @ghost-andghouls @scholastic-dragon @marigold-cat

#rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #rocket gotg #gotg vol 3 #gotg fanfiction #gotg v3 #gotg v2 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon gif #rocket raccoon fanfic #gotg vol 2 #www.fanfic.previews.aliasrocket.com #.alias.fic.previews.

[spacexseven]

hi tuna hi hi 👋 I gotta quick one for ya. I was staring at one of dazais mayoi cards, the one where elise gives him a little stuffed bunny (can't send pictures over anon unfortunately but its called lamplit winter if you wanna look it up), and then i reread ur softzai piece and it made me brainrot really really bad so imagine. giving yan dazai a little stuffed animal...

like, look, I feel like dazai, even the crueller versions of him like subordinate darling dazai, is something of a sentimentalist. everything and anything darling gives him is a present and he wants to take good care of it. like, even something as innocuous as a pencil you dropped is something hell keep in a little shoebox beneath his bed. its all part of his delusion, his secret hopeless romanticism. touching (or heaven forbid, breaking) something he got from darling is enough to get people sent to the hospital, or even killed. so imagine ACTUALLY giving him a gift of some kind. youre at the arcade, you win a little stuffed animal, you give it to dazai cuz you have no use for it. you dont really think much of it, really, but HE sure does. mafia/subordinate darling dazai would be a special case. hed probably pretend he doesnt care for the toy at first, both to you and to himself (especially since subordinate darling would probably give it to him sarcastically), but he doesnt have it in him to get rid of it. hes always had a bit of a soft spot for cute things.... and the cramped storage compartment he lives in is so dreary...... no, nevermind that, he'll just. throw it over in the corner. whatever. no need to even go through the effort of disposing of it, thats how little he cares!

of course, he finds his eyes drifting to it more often than not, thinks about what you giving him something like that might Mean, etc. he still refuses to admit he appreciates it, or you, but then maybe one night... he finds himself having another nightmare... and as he sits there, cold, lonely, distressed... his eyes catch the little stuffed toy you gave him. before he can really think about it, he grabs it and drags it into bed with him. he was never given things like this, as a child, so holding it feels... nice. comforting in a way he hasn't experienced. it even still smells just like you; and if he closes his eyes, he can PRETEND its you... he can imagine himself holding you tightly, burying his nose in your hair, laying on your chest and listening to your heart... his little fantasies get him back to sleep very quickly, and it becomes routine. sometimes, if hes particularly lonely or the delusion has completely overtaken him for the day, he'll even talk to the toy like its you. I could also imagine this leading to him stealing some clothes from you, once your scent starts to be replaced with his own on the toy, nothing you'll miss, just a shirt or two he can use to supplement your presence while he sleeps!

I'll cut myself off here cuz I am going NUTSO but yeah. thats where my head is at rn <33

- 🩹

im so sorry for how long it took me to get to this omg these weeks have been hectic :( i dont know if i uslaly write dazai this gloomy but i like it

dazai treasures anything you give him leave behind, but instead of dedicating a corner of his room to your items and presence, dazai likes to spread things out in his place like how you might leave it if the two of you were together. he leaves a used tube of chapstick in the drawer beside his bandages, he places a half-empty tube of toothpaste beside his own in the bathroom (making a note to buy the same one as you from now on so it feels more real, this fantasy), he keeps your shirts stacked up beside his, trying to make it feel natural. somehow, the possibility of you living with him seems so far-fetched so instead, he turns to building the future he'd like with your missing items, playing into his little fantasy. of course, the obvious lack of furniture in his room is inadequate for you, too miserable to be called a house, unlike your own apartment with the wallpaper and the trinkets you have placed everywhere.

if anyone messes with anything lying around (unlikely, since nobody really visits him anyway), dazai would fly into a rage. every item has been meticulously placed in its appropriate place, and slightly nudging it away or putting it elsewhere would cause the fragile facade to crumble and demolish the delicate atmosphere. when he gets back at night, he makes sure to check that everything is in its place—the chapstick he so desperately wants to use (a pathetic attempt at getting close to you) but doesn't want to taint with his touch, the shirts he cradles so delicately, pretending you were there, when the loneliness feels more crushing than usual and he can't bear to accept his reality.

if you happened to give him anything, regardless of the reason, dazai would be over the moon. sure, when you casually ask him if he wants the stuffed toy you won, he scoffs and pretends like he's not interested, but ultimately takes it anyway. its soft texture and blank eyes don't mean much to him as it is, but knowing you were just holding it in your arms, experimentally squeezing it a few times before telling dazai you couldn't keep it, makes the toy the most valuable thing in the world for dazai. no matter how out of place the cute, round thing looked in his bandaged arms, surrounded by his coat, dazai found himself holding it tighter. with this, he can fool himself into believing this was a date and not just a detour from your usual work. he can lie to himself and think that you wanted to impress him by winning the toy, no matter how far it was from the truth.

the toy is painfully out of place in his dark room, not really looking right on the dresser or inside the closet. so he throws it onto his bed instead, thinking about how desolate it looked still. he doesn't think much of it until he goes to rest, observing the round toy sitting beside him. outside, the sky rumbled, and he felt his hand squeeze the soft belly of the toy. despite himself, he found himself smiling a little. it was sort of cute, with the blank eyes and stuffing. he'd never had something like this, and now that he did, he didn't know what to do with it.

while he was thinking about it, he realized the toy might have your scent, seeing as it was held by you for a while first. awkwardly, his arms wrapped around it and he pulled it closer, feeling like a child who had just received his first toy. it was soft; lacking the warmth humans had, but he wasn't about to be picky when this was already something he never had.

for a minute, he thought back to that pleased expression you had when squeezing the round stuffed toy in your arms, and he thinks you'd like to have it when you moved in. with his eyes closed, it's easier to pretend the inanimate object is more human and more loving. it's easy to imagine it was you in his arms, asleep, except for the lack of warmth.

dazai sighs and his eyes open, still holding the toy. it was nice while it lasted.

#its hard to describe a plushy #yandere bsd x reader #yandere x reader #yandere dazai osamu #yandere dazai x reader #yandere dazai #yandere bsd #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #ask 🐟 #anon 🐟 #dazai 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #dazai 🩹 🐟

[asexualbookbird]

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon ⭐⭐

I followed this book from it's conception, through it's editing, and hyped it's publishing date on twitter. I was genuinely excited to read it, and really thought and hoped I'd enjoy it. I wasn't a huge fan of what I read of The Bone Season, but everyone assured me this was different! And to be fair, it was! I think in my heart, though, I knew the truth because I waited so long to read this and I'm sorry to say I did not have a great time.

My problem with Samantha Shannon seems to be she creates these wonderful worlds full of interesting magic systems and characters that are fun to follow, but there's too much crammed into the book as a whole. In The Bone Season, I felt the Rephaim were unnecessary. In Priory there are too many points of view. There were things I liked, this wasn't a complete waste of time, but wow they were hard to come by in the end.

What did I like?

-Ead! Ead was clearly the main character and I think it would have worked better if it was just Her Book (I'd also settle for her and Tané, please Tané deserved more page time than she got) -Sabran. I'm surprised, but not really, that people didn't like her. She's complicated! She's mean! She loves deeply! She's a person! People just hate women who are mean lol -MAGIC! Magic comes from fruit that comes from the stars? It's fire and water and ice and air? NEAT! COOL! Cool magic systems seem to be SShannons strong point! -High fantasy with no sexual assault or threats of sexual assault. There was a little misogyny with the way Sabran and her line is treated for their ability to give birth (and no, one throw away line of "This is bad actually!" doesn't fix it lol) but it fit in context and considering no one was mean to women for being women I'll let it slide!

What didn't I like?

-LACK. OF. DRAGONS. yall there are dragons on the COVER, every time someone talked about this online, they added dragon emojis. So why, in the more than 800 pages, did dragons show up for maybe five pages TOTAL. Like if we went line by line and pieced all those lines together, it would maybe take up five pages. Ten if I'm being generous and include the dragons that are The Enemies. Which, by the way, -Dragons are Mean. I've discovered that I prefer dragons to be neutral to allies, I don't like dragon books where we are slaying dragons. It's nice that we have both here, no group of people? Creatures? Are a monolith, but I want more of the eastern dragons! They were pushed aside and we hardly saw them! We hardly saw any of them! If you promise me dragons, then deliver! The! Dragons!!!! -Writing style. I'm thinking maybe SShannon's writing style and I do not vibe at all. I'm not sure what it is about it, I know she doesn't like writing action scenes and so avoids them, and I love reading action scenes, but that didn't feel like the entire problem here? But something about this writing detached me from the characters. Yes I liked Ead, but I felt nothing about Tané, other tha wanting MORE of her. SShannon spent a lot of time saying not much at all, it's really rather impressive. -Tané in general. Part of the writing problem is the way the POVs were split. It was most obvious in Tané's storyline. She has everything stripped away from her, but the emotional impact wasn't there because we hardly spent any time with her. -The Priory. The book is named after it, but we're hardly there at all. I spent a good chunk of the first half wishing Ead would go back to the Priory, but once she was there, I wanted her to leave. The Prioress' motives also seemed iffy to me? Ead was right, why spend nearly ten years trying to keep Inys afloat and then go "actually! Nevermind! Let it burn!' -Plot....holes? Not so much holes but Convenient Plot. I was ready to ignore some of it, suspension of disbelief and all that, but nah I"m going to be picky now! The scene that stuck out the most was Ead being chased and hunted down and CONVENIENTLY wyrms attacked her pursuers and she was the one who got away. Or how about Niclays at the LITERAL LAST MOMENT deciding to have a change of heart because......plot has to move forward? Also. What the fuck happened to Ishari lol Tané noted Ishari was disappointed to be sent to Feather island, but said she hoped their paths would cross again one day! And then! Tané goes to Feather Island! And NO MENTION OF HER AT ALL! Or how abut Loth learning a VERY BIG VERY IMPORTANT PIECE OF INFORMATION ABOUT THE NEIGHBORING KINGDOM AND THEN NO ONE MENTIONS IT UNTIL NEARLY THE END LIKE "OH YEAH BTW THE PRINCESS THERE IS COOL LOTH SAID SO" -Wrap Up. I didn't really mind the final Big Fight. I know even fans of the book have been disappointed, but honestly it's one of the strongest stretches of the book, even if it was a little hard to follow at times. What bothered me was after. I know I tend to be impatient when reading the final chapters of a book, the What Happened Next bits, but never have I been so annoyed as to have to read a wrap up from the POV of someone who WASN'T EVEN CONSCIOUS. I suppose it's better than a book where a single first person POV character is knocked unconscious mid battle and then the next scene is "and then everything was over" but come ON.

I know she had to edit this book down a LOT, which. Girl. It's 800 pages how was there MORE. So maybe my questions were answered in things that were cut, but I could not physically handle any more of this book. I got fatigue from her writing, I cannot handle more of it at once, but considering how long it takes her to finish a book (not a complaint! Everyone has a different pace!) I also would not have wanted to wait that long for a conclusion. There's no winning for me here. We were simply not meant to be. It's just that if I'm going to read a book that takes hundreds of pages to say nothing at all by an author that puts out a book once every few years at best, I'd read VE Schwab or Patrick Rothfuss.

#bookbird babbles #book reviews #my review #books #booklr #the priory of the orange tree #tpotot #LOOK AT ME POSTING REVIEWS AGAIN #WITH A NEW HEADER AND EVERYTHING #I think i accidentally used the same or similar fonts as last time lol #but hey! I like them!

[alexturne]

My Milex fanfic masterpost

LONG CHAPTERED STORIES

under these lights you look beautiful

Rated E - 103k - 14 chapters

Miles got completely lost in his voice. There was a faraway quality to it, like he belonged somewhere else entirely, but somehow had decided to grace them with his presence and Miles felt blessed to be near him if even for a short while. The subtle elegance hidden in his slender figure, the mannerisms of his fingers wrapped around the corners of his notebook. His words were spoken softly, quietly, but without any hesitation or faltering.

Alex is an elusive poet, who has a way with words and Miles is a bartender, who is completely mesmerized.

the element of surprise

Rated E - 45k - 8 chapters

"Yeah! I'm not one to judge, just want ya to be prepared, you know, just in case.." "In case what?" Jamie rolled his eyes at him. "In case nothing. Nevermind. Forget it. Just help me find your skiing gear and we'll be off." "Skiing?" "Yeah, didn't you hear the lady? We're taking you on a surprise skiing trip to celebrate your birthday, mate!"

The Monkeys invite Alex skiing for his birthday and little does he know that there's a very special surprise waiting for him.

sit next to me before i go

Rated E - 28k - 7 chapters

He'd get up in just a second. He'd go downstairs and make Alex sit down on the tall stool by the counter, and have him tell Miles everything about his amazing tour as Miles puttered around the kitchen fixing them both tea and biscuits. It'd be perfect.

If only he could get up.

Or: Miles is sick and is being very stubborn about it, and Alex flies back to take care of him.

my heart melted in the heat

Rated E - 36k - 9 chapters

The cold winds of winter rush through the old college town. Miles drags himself through another shift at the dingy coffee shop, Rich's Beans, and he wishes for summer, for the day he is out of here. But when he gets a new coworker, a young guy named Alex, with pretty dark hair and even prettier dark eyes, life suddenly seems a little brighter.

Will Miles be able to keep his bubbling feelings under control or will his silly crush keep him warm during this season's freak thunderstorms?

Written for the Shadow Monkeys Big Bang 2022

you've got control of everyone's eyes (including mine)

Rated E - 106k - 19 chapters

The tour was coming up soon, everything set in place, and tonight they'd celebrate and let off some steam before it all began. And now he had to deal with this guy? Miles fucking Kane? Of all the nights? Couldn't a guy be allowed to celebrate in peace?

It's 2005 and the Arctic Monkeys are about to set out on their first proper tour. Alex is quite happy with that, until a certain someone gets in the way and spoils it all.

A story about facing hardships, insecurities and stage fright, about friendships, dreams, music and smoking too many fucking cigarettes in dark back alleys. About keeping your friends close, and perhaps your enemies even closer.

SHORT CHAPTERED STORIES

pinned down by the dark

Rated E - 10k - 4 chapters

He knows exactly what’s going on on the other side of that door. The thought sends a shiver up his spine. And he knows who it is as well. He'd recognise that voice anywhere. Someone's in there alright! It's Al, for fucks sake.

Miles hears a soft moan through the door. And he takes a step back from the door, wondering if perhaps he shouldn’t be listening in on his best mate pleasuring himself in the middle of the night.

3 times Miles hears Alex in the middle of the night and 1 time he does something about it.

you're so pretty and i'm so shy

Rated E - 14k - 2 chapters

“Fine, if you’re so shy then why don’t you write him a note? Like in the films, write your number on a slip of paper, give it to him or slip it into his pocket or summat.”

“That might work!”

“I was kidding Alex!”

pretending you were just some lover

Rated E - 13k - 2 chapters

That damned piece of paper marked a death sentence he'd requested himself on that fateful day three months ago.

Today would mark the end of the charade.

When he'd sign his name on that dotted line.

When his marriage to the single greatest, most gorgeous, most wonderful person alive would end.

Or: Alex is a dumbass who tries to get divorced from the love of his life.

ONESHOTS

i've been saving all my summers for you

Rated E - 22k

They were 11 when they first met at the beach, now at 21 they’re back. Back at this place that became theirs. The place they became best friends.

The place where Alex fell in love for the very first time.

nobody ought to be alone on christmas

Rated M - 12k

"And it's not my fault he's all the way away in LA! Stupid, far away LA. London's a nice place too, you know! It's worth sticking around for, especially at Christmas!"

"What's stopping you from seeing him? You're obviously miserable without him, with nowhere to go for Christmas. Get out of your joggers. Go to LA. Go see him. Tell him you love him."

stop making the eyes at me

Rated E - 25k

He turned to look at Alex, took off his sunglasses and tucked them into the quite unbuttoned neck of his shirt. His eyes roamed over Alex rather shamelessly, slowly looking him up and down as an appreciative smirk formed on his lips, and Alex suddenly felt hot all over.

Or: Alex gets stuck inside an elevator with a hot stranger and a bottle of whiskey and they need to find a way to pass the time.

you just ain't the one for me

Rated E - 7k

Suddenly she had an idea. "I wanna fuck him. Miles. I wanna fuck him." Alex made a weird choking sound. "Pardon?" "I wanna fuck Miles. And then I wanna watch him fuck you."

Taylor has an idea of how to spend their sunny afternoon and she's not about to take no for an answer. Sexiness ensues and she makes a few decisions about their relationship.

magic from your fingers tingles down my spine

Rated E - 8k

"Wanna make out?" Alex coughed out a cloud of thick smoke. He blinked and looked at Miles next to him. Miles was making quite the sight, sprawled out across Alex's sheets with a dirty smirk plastered on his face. He looked nice, spread out like that. All relaxed and comfortable, as if he'd always been destined to end up right there in Alex's bed.

Or: Whilst writing their first album together, Alex and Miles get high, and Miles has a great idea about how they could be spending their time.

you're a matter of urgency

Rated G - 8k

The cab ride had been the most anxious 36 minutes of his life. Jiggling a nervous leg and staring out the window, he'd clutched the phone hard in hand, devil device that it was, as it'd brought him the single worst message he’d received in his entire life;

"Miles was in an accident. Come quickly."

i'll be home for christmas

Rated E - 13k

Alex Turner had it all.

A massively successful global tour, adoring fans everywhere he went, amazing sales figures, another number one album, a gorgeous house, a jealousy-inducing collection of vintage cars and motorbikes and the best bandmates you could ask for.

But one fateful Christmas eve has Alex realizing that none of that truly matters. And that the one thing he could truly never live without is the one he let get away.

going back to 505

Rated T - 2k

"Wanna bring out a very good friend of ours. Put your hands together please, for Miles Kane!"

Miles joins them for 505 for the first time in 5 years.

#milex #fanfic masterpost #milex fanfiction #the last shadow puppets #heres just a handy little list for easier browsing my stories 💜❤️ #my writing #sorry for the long post but its mostly for my own organizational purposes #long post

[delucadarlingwriting]

Have Her Cake and Eat it Too - Part 1

I love a good AU. I especially love Wayhaven AUs. This one is the answer to a lot of 'what if's I've played with.

What if Barbie finds out about the Agency as a young kid?

What if she and Kira are in the same story?

What if she falls for Mason and Nate?

I'm still trying to work on writing/completing long form pieces of fic, and this is one of them. It's been tricky as hell. Initially, the fic I wanted to write was set post-book 3, in the midst of some messy Nate/Mason/Barbie drama. But then I realized I wanted to find the foundation of their relationship, so I went back to Book 3...then Book 2...and now I'm starting it all in Book 1.

This won't be a straight retelling though. Things are similar, but different. Barbie isn't Rebecca's kid. She learns things at a different rate than the canon detective. I'm still not even sure if I'm planning for everything with Murphy to go as it does in canon. It'll depend on where the story takes me. I've always had fun writing things adjacent to canon.

This will eventually go on AO3, once I finish enough for the first part.

Summary: Barbara Robertson's first day as Wayhaven's detective isn't going to plan. A reunion with Rebecca Kingston and her daughter Kira makes things all the more complicated.

Word count: 2,997

EDIT 9/16/23: I've realized there were some plot related issues in this part as I'm writing four chapters ahead of what I'm posting. I made a few adjustments to fix that.

Next Part

***

[Barbie POV, Wayhaven Police Department, meeting Rebecca]

It has been a bad day. A very, very bad day. A day Barbara Robertson was not prepared for. Most detectives might expect to deal with murders throughout their careers, but this is Wayhaven. Violent crimes are rare. 

She really, really needs the coffee maker to work if she’s going to make it through this.

“Douglas?” Barbie calls out. The young officer pops his head up, blowing his bangs away from his face. “Why is the coffee maker broken?”

“It wasn’t me,” he insists. Barbie sighs.

“I didn’t say it was.” She shakes her head. “Nevermind. I’ll try to fix it.”

“...Should I just call for a repair?” Douglas asks incredulously. 

Under normal circumstances, Barbie would be offended at his lack of confidence in her. She’s too impressed that he even offered to do something useful though, so she just says, “If I can’t get it fixed in the next ten minutes, then yes.”

She goes back to the machine and looks it all over. Nothing seems to be overtly the matter with it. No smoking, no sparking wires. There’s a panel on the side that she opens, but it’s all such a mess of machinery that Barbie doesn’t have a clue what she’s looking at. It makes her wish Lucas was here and not bumming around the outskirts of Nashville. He’d know how to fix it.

There’s only one thing she can really think to do, so she unplugs the machine from the wall, waits ten seconds, then plugs it back in. 

Nothing.

“Of course,” Barbie mutters to herself as she switches tactics and begins shuffling through the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen, hoping a manual might turn up. The coffee machine is probably older than she is, but she hasn’t been disappointed enough today it seems. 

“Barbara,” comes a strict voice that has Barbie straightening her shoulders on reflex. She turns, eyes widening at the person in front of her. The other woman looks her up and down, though her thoughts are hidden behind a stoic expression. “It’s been quite some time.”

“Mrs. Kingston?” Barbie asks, shocked. For a moment, it’s as if a roll of film is being dragged in front of her face, showing her a foggy scene from her past. Rebecca Kingston stands in front of her, her expression somewhere between worried and stern. It’s an expression that give Barbie the worst case of deja vu she’s ever had.

Barbie hasn’t seen Rebecca Kingston (or her daughter Kira for that matter) in over a decade now, though everyone knows she still owns the old Kingston residence in Wayhaven. She’s a tall woman, though not as tall as Barbie remembers. That may have something to do with Barbie having not worn high heels when she used to babysit for Rebecca back when she was in high school. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back into an unrelentingly neat french braid, her skirt suit is perfectly pressed and her brown eyes are still as stern and hard as the rest of her features. There are streaks of gray that Barbie doesn’t remember being there, and a few more wrinkles, but overall Rebecca Kingston has aged well. 

She smiles at Barbie, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. Yet another expression that makes Barbie feel like she’s stepping a foot into the past. “Can we speak in your office?”

Mystified and off balance, Barbie can do nothing more than nod before leading the way. As they walk through the newly renovated building, she can’t help noticing that Mrs. Kingston seems to be suffering the same ghosts from days past as Barbie.

Her office is small, though far more spacious than the teeny tiny desk she and Tina used to share in the bullpen. She’s still working on decluttering after Detective Reele’s departure—the woman stored so many things here—but she manages to wrestle an extra chair out for Mrs. Kingston and slips around the desk to her own seat. 

“What brings you back to Wayhaven, Mrs. Kingston?” Barbie asks, confused. Mrs. Kingston smiles, this time more genuinely.

“I think you can call me Rebecca now, Barbara,” she says. “It’s been many years since I was paying you to pick Kira up after gymnastics.”

“How is she?” Barbie asks, smiling as she remembers the younger girl in her sparkling leotard, her gap toothed smile, and her extreme enthusiasm for stopping at the gas station for a treat after practice. 

Rebecca looks over her shoulder and gestures to someone waiting in the lobby. As the figure moves closer, she says, “You can ask her yourself.”

The woman who steps into the office is not anything like the little girl Barbie remembers. She’s taller, for one, whereas the Kira Kingston Barbie knew was always the teeniest kid in her class. Her hair is still long, the braided strands of strawberry blonde hair swinging just past her hips as she moves into the office. The sparkling leotard has been replaced by dark trousers, a scoop neck shirt, and a blazer layered on top. Her eyes are bright though, and the smile that breaks across her face the moment she spots Barbie is just the same, sans the missing teeth.

“Hello, Barbie,” Kira says, brimming with barely restrained excitement. 

Barbie takes a moment to reconcile her memory of Kira with the reality standing in front of her. Somehow, she never considered that Kira would go and grow up when Barbie wasn’t there to watch her. She’d seemed so much younger when Barbie was 16, and yet now she looks…well, she looks like Tina, who Barbie has considered a good friend for years. 

On pure instinct, Barbie stands from her chair and rounds the desk, halting awkwardly in front of Kira. She doesn’t actually know what she wants to do about this reunion. 

Thankfully, Kira decides for her, and swoops in for a hug. Barbie lets out a breath, trying her best to wrap her arms back around Kira without seeming like she didn’t expect this. Though she’s considerably taller, Kira’s head could still be tucked pretty easily beneath Barbie’s chin. It’s only by the skin of her teeth that Barbie doesn’t do it on some old, not-so-forgotten reflex.

“Sorry,” Kira says with a laugh as she steps back, cheeks crimson. “I just—I’m sure you barely remember me, but I definitely remember you. I was so sad when you left for college and never came back!”

“I came back just as you were heading off yourself, it seems,” Barbie says. She readjusts her blouse to make sure it hasn’t gotten rumpled. “I asked around for you when I moved back a few years ago. No one was quite sure where you’d run off too though.”

“That might be best explained by Rebecca,” Kira says, gesturing to the woman Barbie has practically forgotten was there at all. 

“Right,” Barbie says with a wince. “Um, sorry Kira, I don’t think I have any other chairs in here.”

“I’m fine to stand,” Kira assures her with a wave of her hand as she steps into the spot at her mother’s right hand. Rebecca lets out the barest breath through her nose, relieved that the reunion is over. 

“Barbara,” Rebecca says as Barbie takes her seat once more. Her tone suggests this is more than a social call. “We’ve heard about the murder.”

Barbie nods, frowning. “Yes, it’s troubling, isn’t it?”

“Very,” Kira says, shifting her weight, hands on her hips. Her brows are drawn tightly together, mouth downturned. “We found it very concerning, especially with you being so new and having almost no support.”

It clicks then. This isn’t a social call. Acid swims in her stomach and she reaches up to make a fist around the pink sapphire pendant hanging from the thin, gold chain around her neck. “Oh, you’re here on Agency business.”

“Yes, we are,” Rebecca says, her eyes leveled at Barbie’s neck. Barbie looks Kira over, her outfit, and the way she stands with her mother.

“Kira too?” she asks. Kira can’t hold back a proud smile.

“That’s right. I’ve been an agent practically since I graduated,” Kira says. That would explain why no one knew where she went then. The Agency has always been very shady and hush hush. Barbie doubts most people know Rebecca is part of the Agency. It took Barbie a few years to put two and two together, and she was over at the Kingston home near daily.

This is not a welcome revelation. Barbie straightens her back and forces her hand to release her necklace, placing it instead on the top of her desk.

“Are you taking the case from me?” Barbie asks. It might only be her first day as a detective, but she already feels a sense of possessiveness for this case. For Janet Greenland. Would some faceless agency really see to it that she gets justice for the terrible crime committed against her?

“Not exactly,” Kira says. She offers Barbie a smile. “It’s more that we’re offering help.”

“I find it odd that the Agency would take such an interest in this singular crime,” Barbie says, her hackles already up and unwilling to be soothed so easily.

“This is not a one off,” Rebecca states. “We have been tracking this killer for months now.”

“Oh.” Barbie blinks. That does change things. As much as she may not like it, if this is a serial killer she can’t blame the Agency for not wanting the case in a novice detective’s hands. She chews her lower lip as she considers this. “What kind of help are you offering?”

“Our team,” Kira says with a confident lilt to her voice. “Unit Bravo. We have four agents, and myself, at your disposal for this case.”

Barbie takes a moment to absorb that information. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

In the other chair, Rebecca stands. “You don’t have to say anything. I just hope you find the team useful.”

“I’m sure I will,” Barbie says, though in truth she feels more troubled than anything. Making detective was exciting, starting her career off with a murder far more so in very unwelcome ways, and having strange agents crawling all over her case and observing her as she’s just getting her feet under herself is nothing short of nerve wracking. It is what it is though. She’ll just have to deal with it. Something deep in her gut tells her she doesn’t want to fight a battle against the Agency.

“Don’t worry,” Kira says with a smile. “They’re great. We’re practically family at this point.”

Barbie can’t help but let her eyebrows jump up at that. Considering what she remembers of the Kingston family, Barbie can’t help but be a bit surprised. Then again, poor Kira has always been a bit starved for connection.

“I’ll be happy to meet them then,” she says diplomatically. Kira checks her phone, bobbing her head.

“Great, because now would be the time for it,” Kira says. Barbie nods, gesturing to a depressingly small stack of files.

“I have all the information here, I’m happy to share it with them,” Barbie says. Kira gives a wince of a smile but Rebecca cuts in before she can speak.

“They’re already up to date. You don’t need to waste your time telling them a thing. Just have them follow your lead.” Rebecca looks to Kira and reaches out to touch her daughter’s shoulder with enough hesitation that it’s clear she wasn’t sure the touch wouldn’t be shaken off. “Take care, Kira.”

“Of course, Rebecca,” Kira says. The use of her mom’s first name is a little cold, but the smile she gives her is warm enough. Rebecca accepts it and leaves the office, then the station. 

“So, I don’t need to give them any information?” Barbie asks. Kira turns back to her.

“Right. We’ve all been keeping up to date. Plus, we have access to your police files for the time being,” Kira says, so casually that it’s clear this is just standard protocol for her. Barbie bristles a little.

“It seems I’m hardly needed then,” she says. Kira blanches.

“No!” she shouts. “Barbie, we definitely need you. You’re just the right person for this case.”

Barbie almost asks how she would know, considering she was all of 14 when they last saw one another, but she manages to bite down on the irritated comment. Instead, she considers what Rebecca said about having tracked this killer for months.

“You’ve got my files,” Barbie says, tapping her pen against her chin. “But I’m going into this blind. Will I be getting access to any of your files?”

“No,” Kira says sharply. Barbie’s brows raise so high her dark rimmed glasses slide down her nose. Embarrassed, Kira adds, “It’s classified, unfortunately. We can’t show you any of them.”

“Really?” Barbie sits up straighter. “That’s interesting. This killer must be high profile.”

“Um.” Kira shifts from foot to foot. “Well. I can’t really say.”

“Even though you’re supposed to be helping me on this case?” Barbie asks, no small amount of bitterness burning in her throat. 

Kira at least has the grace to look apologetic about it. “We can still help even if we can’t tell you everything. Do you have any ideas on where you want to start?”

It soothes her temper a little to be asked. Barbie adjusts her ponytail, tugging it a little tighter on top of her head before answering.

“I’ve already gotten started, but I could use some help with what I’m doing next. We’ve gotten a statement from someone who lives near where we found the victim,” Barbie says. “We haven’t interviewed anyone she was connected to here in Wayhaven though.”

“I thought she was a loner, new to town,” Kira says. It’s not an argument really so much as encouragement to continue speaking. She thinks that’s what it is at least. Maybe she’s just thinking too much about how Kira used to be as a child. She always felt like Kira was trying to interrogate her when she was driving her around town or spending time babysitting her. Kira would ask Barbie a million questions about herself. So curious, and so adorable. 

Barbie gives Kira another look. She’s still pretty adorable, but…definitely not in the same way as before. 

“She was,” Barbie confirms. “Her neighbors didn’t really notice her much, except for one. He called the station not too long ago to confirm the murder victim was really Janet.”

“So you suspect they might have known each other,” Kira says with a smile. “Clever.”

“Hardly clever,” Barbie scoffs. She pulls her coat on and grabs her car keys. “Clever would be figuring out the connection myself, not simply following up on a phone call.”

“If you say so,” Kira says, a smile on her face. She slots herself at Barbie’s side happily enough as she leads the way out of the station. “I’ll have two of my agents meet us at the location.”

“Only two?”

“For now,” Kira says. “We tend to split up to cover more ground. You’ll meet everyone eventually though.” 

Together the women walk out of the glittering glass doors of the station and around the side of the building to the parking lot. It’s more full than it might normally be thanks to the chilly weather. It’s technically spring, but Wayhaven never seems to get the memo before May. 

“I remember this car,” Kira says, her voice brimming with delight as she follows Barbie to the silver hatchback. Barbie groans.

“It’s still alive, if only barely,” she says, jamming the key into the door to unlock it. She pulls the door open and ducks inside, reaching across the cab to unlock the passenger door from the inside. Kira opens it and slides in just as Barbie settles behind the steering wheel.

“Does Lucas still fix cars up?” Kira asks. Barbie hums and twists the key in the ignition. The car considers not starting, but with a bit of coaxing it rumbles to life.

“Sometimes. He loves it, but he just doesn’t have the time or space for it, especially after our mom moved back to Georgia,” Barbie says, declining to mention that her brother has been scraping by for the past year busking and crashing on couches. 

Kira makes a sad noise. “That’s a shame, he was really good at it.”

“Our passions don’t always pan out, unfortunately,” Barbie says. She shifts into drive and pulls them out of the station's tiny parking lot. Giving her a sidelong look, Barbie adds, “Has that been the case for you?”

“No, not at all,” Kira says, folding her hands on her lap as if it will temper the delight shining in her eyes. “I love being an agent. I never even considered doing what my mom did when I was a kid, you know? I didn’t really understand her job though, and we barely spoke before I joined up.”

Barbie smiles. “I couldn’t have guessed you’d follow in her footsteps, I must confess.”

“No kidding,” Kira laughs. “It’s funny how things work out sometimes.”

“Very.” Barbie couldn’t have imagined having this conversation with this passenger in a million years if she’d been told to come up with as many possibilities as possible. It’s odd, but nice. Having a friendly face to keep her company is a comfort. She can’t help smiling as Kira toys with the radio, finding the same station she used to love back when Barbie would bring a baggie of apple slices to snack on after school.

The idea of Kira disappearing into the arms of the Agency makes her heart skip a beat. She’s so bright, she can’t imagine how she’s coping with this type of organization. It certain hasn’t seemed to make her lose her luster at least.

Barbie finds herself looking forward to getting to know this new Kira Kingston, even if she can’t help noticing the looming shadow following close behind.

#darling writing #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #twc rebecca #Kira Kingston #Barbara Robertson #have her cake and eat it #I'm still trying to figure out exactly how Barbie navigates her little love triangle with Nate and Mason before it closes #I mostly know I want it to be fucking MESSY

[shakingcryingwriting]

Who would a reader a pjo×obeyme! Crossover fic? Cuz I'm writing it

It's completely plausible, especially with the theatrics of the pjo mulitverse i.e., kane chronicles and magnus chase

SUMMARY: MC is an unclaimed demigod at Camp Half-Blood, a long-term resident of Cabin 11, and a former member of Krono's army. One night, they go to bed and see Camp Half-Blood for the last time

Notes: you/yours/they/them; you are Mc, ofc; takes place somewhere between Last Olympian and Lost Hero (closer to Last Olympian); kinda went headcanon-y with the brothers but pfft who cares

Warnings: Spoilers for both obey me and Pjo; cussing I suppose

Camp Half-Blood hadn't felt this foreign since your first year.

Then, everything was fresh and shiny, new and exciting. Each cabin felt like a grand temple; each camper a hero of legend. You hadn't been able to hold back your ogling eyes and wide-ranging curiosities.

You could remember the jolt of excitement from the first time you hopped on a pegasus or the first time a faceless peer had dropped a broad sword in your hands. You could remember the terror-fueled adrenaline from your first time playing capture the flag, being ambushed by a few Athena kids while you were guarding the flag, or your first time facing a slobbering, snarling hellhound on the one quest you'd been allowed.

Now, tension flooded every crowded room and dripped from every uttered word.

The war was long since over, the shrouds long since burned. Dinner was held in the same pavilion; songs were sung around the same campfire. And yet, as fall neared ever closer, shadows still lingered:

In the eyes of war's witnesses.

In the silence between words.

In the empty spaces left behind by loved ones.

It was ever prevalent sitting on the porch of Herms's Cabin with no company but the cricket chirping at your feet and the consistent rocking of the chair in which you sat.

The last breaths of summer tickled your cheeks and tousled your hair. The setting sun was a dim echo beneath your closed eyelids. Training had turned your muscles into putty. The day had been hot and sticky and sweat still clung to all your nooks and crannies. You would have to head down to the showers sooner or later, but for now, on the cusp of slumber with the night's chill setting in around you, you could relax.

Of course, you appreciated the rest; who wouldn't?

But it would never be possible if Camp Half-Blood was at its peak.

Only a few campers could be seen on the green: A boy on his knees in the dirt outside the Demeter Cabin; Two girls holding hands as they headed off toward the volleyball court; A young girl tending to the central hearth, and you, of course. In the distance, the Stoll brothers were trying to push each other off the rock wall, and even farther away was the distinct sound of Clarisse La Rue giving someone a piece of her mind.

There were others, of course, there were others, but in a moment like that, you couldn't help but feel emptiness.

"Mc"

"JESUS!"

You nearly jumped out of her skin. You turned to find a familiar blonde girl with grey eyes at the corner of the cabin smiling at you.

"Spoke ya?" she asked.

"Yes!" you exclaimed, then quickly added, "Of course not!"

Annabeth Chase laughed, a sound you'd quite missed during your time in... Nevermind.

Annabeth hoisted herself up on the edge of the porch, not bothering with the stairs. "So," she started, "Percy and I are thinking of sneaking out and heading to the beach tonight."

"Uh-huh," you drawled, watching her trace the wood patterns of the porch with her finger.

"We plan to get some swimming in before the summer ends," she glanced up for your reaction, and when you said nothing she continued with "Do you want to come swimming?"

"And third wheel for you and your boyfriend?" you scoffed. "No thanks."

Annabeth's face reddened ever so. "He's not-Well ... You wouldn't be third-wheeling," she said.

You gnawed at your bottom lip for a moment, thinking. You'd missed Annabeth the past year, you really had. Before the war, you'd been the closest of friends... Then you picked Luke over her...

You both wanted things back to normal. And normal was getting up to no good that Annabeth would otherwise frown upon. So sure, what the hell?

"Great," Annabeth's smile was brighter than the sun at noon. "I'll see you then. Around 12 ish?"

"Sure," you smiled back, though your tired body hated the idea.

Annabeth rose from her spot just as the dinner horn blew in the distance.

She glanced over her shoulder at you.

You heaved a dramatic sigh before attempting to stand from your chair. A long groan came out instead as your back ached, locking you in a hunch for a moment too long.

Annabeth laughed again, "Need a hand, old man / lady?"

"Shut up," something in your knee cracked as you made your way down the few stairs the porch had to offer.

Annabeth looped her arm through yours, either for comradery's sake or because she was fully giving into the elderly bit, you'll never really know. Together, you headed off for the dining pavilion.

Dinner was the same as any dinner, at least from the past couple of weeks. Quieter than it should have been, but still bustling with excitement for the upcoming capture the flag game that Connor Stoll was quick to remind you of the moment you sat down.

"Hear Athena's got a new magic item up their sleeve," he said before your ass had even hit the seat. Travis slid into place on the other side of you.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed before leaning in so only you and Connor could hear, "If you ask me, it's a loada shit. They probably just started that rumor to get us on our toes."

"Yeah, say that when they hand us our asses Friday," Connor rolled his eyes.

This conversation continued all the way up to the sacrifice hearth. You'd never been quite sure who to sacrifice to, and seeing as it was weeks after the war and you were still unclaimed, you doubted you ever would, but you dropped in a nice buttery roll anyway.

Dinner went by quickly, filled with endless chatter and argument. Soon, campers were draining out of the dining pavilion and flooding into the amphitheater.

A campfire was already going and Apollo's kids were already roasting marshmallows. Everyone filed into their respective section, sitting under the banner of their cabin. Some went straight for the smores first, though.

Quite full from dinner, you took your seat far from the center of the Hermes section. On one side, there was the slightly more crowded Hephaestus Cabin, and on the other was the solo Hades camper.

You'd seen Nico before the war, but you hadn't known him to be a child of the death god. It was nice to see he'd been claimed. When your eyes met, you flashed him a friendly smile. He quickly glanced away, his cheeks almost flushed in the firelight, and gave you a tentative wave back.

One of Apollo's sons scooped up a guitar down by the fire and spit out a few experimental notes before jumping into the fan-favorite song I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great Grandpa.

The music had not gotten better while you were away.

But you sang along anyway, specifically when Connor Stoll, singing his lungs out right next to you, nudged you repeatedly with his shoulder and nodded encouragingly. By the third song, you were giggling and singing just as bad as he was.

Eventually, the day's activities got the better of you. You shouted to Connor over the ruckus that you were going to bed, he called you a prude, and you headed off.

Camp was much less welcoming in the dark. Sometimes, past the light of the periodically placed torches, you wondered if you'd see a hideous face or a pair of glowing eyes peering out at you. Of course, something like that was ridiculous. Camp Half-Blood was safe. The only safe place for you. You shook your paranoia off as you approached Cabin 11 once more.

Sometimes, it was jarring seeing the inside of Cabin 11. You'd done so so many times, but nearly two summers ago you'd accepted the fact that you would never see it again before you ran off into the night, hellbent on getting revenge on a parent you didn't know. Even now, it felt like stepping into the past rather than another room.

You made it over to your little spot on the floor. After the war, demigods had been claimed much more often, but before that, Travis had joked that you were a traitor and should keep the floor. You'd taken it a little too seriously and by the time a bed was free, more Hermes campers had been claimed. So, the floor it was.

You knelt down on your bedroll, contemplating that much-needed shower. Was it worth it if you were going to swim later anyway? You decided against it and against putting actual pajamas on, too. The shorts and tee shirt you wore would be fine. You were more or less taking a nap, not really sleeping.

You flopped down on the bedroll and melted the moment your body was wrapped in a blanket. You were going to set an alarm for yourself and put on a sleep mask (let's face it, those Hermes kids would barge in and turn the light on whether you were sleeping or not).

Instead, your eyes closed and sleep took you.

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #percy jackson #obey me headcanons #pjo #riordanverse #pjo fanfic #pjoxobeyme #crossover fic #obey me fanfic

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Assassination? (chapter 2)

----

Roman has been asleep for three and a half days, that doesn't make Janus' companions any more welcoming towards him when he wakes up.

----

| Ao3 | Previous part |

Warnings: None that I'm aware of, other than Virgil being kinda a dick.

Pairings: pre-romantic roceit,

Word count: 3319

Notes:

Honestly I wasn't sure I was going to make a part two for this, I might write a third part, to get a real insight into their flirting and being cute whilst on the road, this one's more just a 'direct aftermath' lol.

I would like to put out a warning now that I might not be able to update every week from here on, since I have exams from now until late June. I do still have a bunch of chapters pre-written for the anaroceit Royalty au though, so whenever I don't have something new finished, I'll probably post that!

Also I will be putting out a poll this week, I just completely forgot about it, lol.

Please enjoy!

It had been three days since they left the city and Roman still hadn’t woken up. Janus’ trio had picked up the reward for the prince’s assassination (carefully hiding Roman under blankets and bags while they did so) and hadn’t stopped travelling since. Word of the prince’s death travelled just as fast as they did, though, and no matter where they stopped someone was talking about it. The flying rumours made it difficult to stop anywhere for long, especially with the still breathing prince himself concealed in their wagon, so they’d been taking turns to sleep on the road instead. At least things should get easier when Roman wakes up.

Janus wouldn’t say aloud that he was worried about the prince - three days was far too long to be asleep - but he was also certain that Virgil and Logan had picked up on his stiffness regardless. It didn’t help much that Virgil was still angry with him for kidnapping the prince in the first place and Logan was irritated that they now had to take all sorts of detours to avoid villages that did wagon checks to make sure no-one checking for illegal produce found him or guards who might spot the prince and raise the alarms. 

He didn’t blame them for being upset with him, really. He had messed up the mission and put all three of them in danger by bringing the prince here. But at the same time… those amber eyes still haunted his dreams and Janus really hoped the prince would wake up soon…

—

Roman woke up slowly to bright light behind his still closed eyelids and a painful, throbbing headache hammering at the inside of his skull. He felt groggy, like his mind was stuffed with cotton wool and he was floating through a vat of honey. His limbs were heavy, feeling more like blocks of wood than arms and legs, and his mouth was dry as sandpaper. 

As his senses slowly returned, Roman registered that he was wrapped in some form of blanket, all the way around like a cocoon, up to his neck. His head rested on something lumpy, a little scratchy against his cheek and just left of firm. Stupidly, Roman’s foggy mind provided the idea that… he definitely wasn’t in his bedroom back at the castle. 

Slowly, as he laid there with his eyes still closed, Roman began to piece together the memories of what had happened. His mind still felt as though it was stuffed with wool, but slowly he put together the puzzle, an assassin, the vial of poison, the deal, multi-colored eyes - blue and yellow - snake scales that had glistened in the candlelight…

Part of him had expected Janus to bail on him. It would have made sense, he could have ran whilst Roman was asleep, it would have been the most logical thing to do. He would've gotten his reward and been able to move on. That same part of him hadn’t even minded the idea. Poison - or even a knife to the throat, if Janus had so chosen - whilst he was sleeping wouldn't have been the worst way to go.

But nevermind all that, because Roman was apparently not dead, just… incredibly uncomfortable. 

When he did eventually manage to move his limbs - starting with just a twitch of his finger - he realised that not only did he feel stiff and like all his joints had locked up, but he ached basically everywhere, his shoulders, his back, his legs and arms, his neck. It left him wondering just how long he had slept for - and where. He could smell the barest hint of salt in the air. Maybe they were by the ocean? 

Roman took a deep breath - he really could do with some water right around now - and peeled open his eyes only to shut them again when the blaring sun above him made the pounding in his head almost double. When he slowly opened his eyes again, he saw not the sun this time, but an unfamiliar face staring back at him which… least to say startled him quite a bit. 

Roman was pretty sure he was tall, though he couldn’t quite tell exactly how tall, considering he was lying on what was likely the floor and this guy was standing almost directly over him, which… a little weird, but he already knew this wasn’t going to be like what he was used to. That was fine. His hair was long and unkempt, scraggly black mixed with purple and a little dull green and blue, skin pale as milk and a little sunken with eyes that looked a little too big on his face and were an almost ghostly pale blue. Roman found himself thinking he looked pretty creepy before correcting his thoughts, sure he looked a little creepy, but that was just because he was different from Roman. He wouldn’t let his parents' biases speak for him here. 

Though the way he was silently and unblinkingly staring at him was starting to become increasingly unsettling regardless.

Roman shifted, attempting to ease the ache in his neck, and the stranger seemed to come out of a trance, turning away and yelling something that Roman’s brain refused to comprehend with his throbbing headache and the stranger’s unfamiliar accent. 

Whilst they were gone, Roman tried to sit up and found that it just made his head spin and throb even more. He settled instead for stretching out his limbs and trying to regain feeling in the rest of his body. 

Moments later, something was pressed into his hand by another unfamiliar figure, this person was crouched next to him, so he couldn’t discern his height in comparison to the other stranger, what he could discern was the strangers blue-tinted dark skin, dotted with silver freckles, his eyes like pools of murky blue water and hair resembling what Roman thought might be seaweed which also seemed to be dripping with water. After a glance Roman realised the object in his hand was a waterskin, which he went to drink before a thought struck him.

“Why should I-” Roman coughed at the dry feeling of his throat as he tried to swallow, he’d really like some of that water, but he didn’t fake his death and escape the palace just to get poisoned for real, “Why should I trust this? I don’t- I don’t know you, where is Jay?”

Roman thought it would be best to use the cover name Janus had given him. He knew how unwise it was to give out your true name to suspicious creatures you couldn’t pinpoint the identity of, especially ones you didn’t know.

“Jay is currently out getting supplies,” The one with seaweed for hair told him, “And this is just water, but you should sit up to drink it or you’ll choke.”

“How do I know you haven’t poisoned it,” Roman narrowed his eyes at the stranger, he still felt a little woozy, but the sensation was ebbing away by the second thank goodness. The first stranger appeared standing behind him with folded arms and a scowl on his face.

“Just drink the damn water,” He said, “It’s not poisoned, Jay made us swear not to hurt you.”

Roman… still didn’t trust that, but while he wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, he did know that he felt like he’d been stuck in a desert for a week and the waterskin in his hand was looking more and more tempting every moment. Eventually - under one’s passive gaze and the other’s scrutinising glare - Roman slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and tilted his head back to drink the water. It tasted normal, as water should, thank goodness. He must have drank half the waterskin in one go before looking back at the pair of strangers. Somehow the pale one looked even more annoyed now. He wondered distantly what he had done to offend the guy. 

“You may call me Lo,” The blue one said, and after a moment that made it clear the other wasn’t going to offer a name, he spoke again, “He’s Vi.”

Roman opened his mouth to offer a nickname they could use for him too, before ‘Vi’ cut him off, “We already know who you are, Princey.”

“Princey?” Roman asked, with an offended gasp.

“Yeah, cuz’ you’re the prince?” Vi said, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘are you stupid?’.

“No I get it-” Roman huffed, already irritated, “Just-”

“What?” Vi said, “Don’t like it? Well deal with it, just like I have to deal with you.”

With that, he turned around and walked away, hopping down from wherever they were right now. Roman watched him walk over to the large horse that was tied up to a post there and begin angrily brushing her fur. Eventually, Roman turned back to Lo, hoping to communicate all his questions with his expression alone. 

“Vi is- a little prickly towards strangers in general,” Lo explained softly, “And, no offence, but neither he nor I are very happy that you are here, he is simply more overt about it.”

“I get it,” Roman shrugged, “I’m supposed to be dead.”

“Yes,” Lo said, pushing a pair of silver glasses up his nose, “You are.”

“Right,” Roman said with a sigh, so this was just going from one miserable existence where everyone hated him to a slightly less comfortable existence where almost everyone still hated him. Wonderful, Roman was really glad he made this decision now.

“Yes, Jay insisted we keep you around and that we do nothing to harm you,” Lo explained, “But please refrain from causing us trouble, or I may have to rethink my agreement.”

Roman shivered as Lo stood and walked away towards Virgil, well, that was terrifying.

All he could really do now was sit here and hope that Jay would be back soon and also hope that Jay following the plan and making Lo and Vi swear not to hurt him meant that he at least didn’t hate Roman like the other two seemed to. Roman wasn’t sure how long getting supplies typically took, but he really hoped it wasn’t too long. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand the scathing glances Vi kept shooting his way as he talked quietly with Lo over by the horse. 

Growing up, Roman had learned all too well how to tell where he was not welcome, and he was most definitely not welcome here.

—-

It was approaching sundown by the time Janus got back to their makeshift camp. He hadn’t intended to be out for so long, but he had struggled finding a few certain items they desperately needed - one being a certain lotion for his scales. He’d also gotten some extra clothes for the prince, because while he absolutely was not comfortable changing his clothes whilst he was sleeping (Janus thought that would be a horrific breach of privacy) he was sure Roman would want something to change into from the gala outfit he was still wearing when he woke up. 

When he did arrive back to camp, Virgil approached him almost immediately, looking stormier than usual. 

Janus very quickly found out why.

“Your prince is awake,” Virgil told him shortly, “he’s already annoying.”

“Don’t judge him so quickly,” Janus said, inwardly relieved, so he had woken up, finally. He was a little annoyed that he hadn’t been here, but it didn’t matter. 

“Just because you want to get into his pants, doesn’t mean the rest of us do, Jay,” Virgil said, crossing his arms, but pointing towards the path that leads further towards the cliffs, “He walked off that way, dunno where he went.”

“You weren’t keeping an eye on him?” Janus asked, frowning.

“I’m not babysitting a stupid adult royal,” Virgil told him, practically glowring now, “He’s your responsibility, you brought him here.”

Janus just huffed, rolling his eyes and passing one of the bags - with all the supplies for the group - to Virgil, keeping the bag with his own things and the clothes he had gotten for Roman in his hand and stormed off down the coastal path.

Really, he hoped this rift that he’d caused between them by bringing Roman here would fix itself soon. He hoped Virgil would warm up to the prince - though he doubted it would happen for a while. Either way, Virgil would have to get used to it, it’s not like they could just abandon Roman now.

The trail was winding and overgrown. The wind picked up as he approached the coast too, ruffling his hair and tugging at his clothes. It was getting dark - though he couldn’t deny that the sunset looked beautiful - and with night came cold. He really hoped he found Roman soon. He couldn’t help a pang of annoyance towards his companions for letting him walk off. 

Luck must be on his side, though, because as he approached the cliffs his eyes caught on the bright red, gold and white of Roman’s clothes where the prince was sitting in the grass, knees pulled up to his chest and chin set atop them. Janus sighed softly and walked over, of course Roman was upset, he’d woken up somewhere unfamiliar surrounded by unfriendly - and possibly outright hostile, in Virgil’s case - strangers. No wonder he’d run off.

“Hey,” Janus said softly, though loud enough to be heard over the wind, “May I sit?”

“Jay?” Roman said, looking up, and looking immediately relieved, “Oh, you’re back.”

“Indeed I am, I hope the others didn’t cause you much trouble,” Janus said, though he’d known Virgil long enough to know how he would have reacted to Roman anyway. The way Roman sighed and looked away again told him everything he needed to know.

“Your companions do not like me,” Roman said, uncurling from his position just a little, “But I understand why.”

Janus hummed, not having an answer to that. He had to remind himself that he barely knew Roman, he didn’t know what he was truly like, didn’t know his mannerisms or how he would react to certain things. It made it difficult to interact, and was the main reason Janus didn’t like strangers in general. He thought he should try, though. Especially with this one.

“How are you feeling?” Janus asked, “You were asleep for a while.”

“I have a pounding headache,” Roman said, reaching to rub at his forehead for emphasis, “And I’m incredibly hungry, otherwise fine, how long was I out for?”

“Three and a half days,” Janus told him, “There should be food back at camp, if you want it?”

“I’d rather stay here,” Roman said, looking back up at him, he was sad to see that the fire in his eyes had dimmed slightly, “Your friends have made it abundantly clear that I am not welcome.”

“I know their first impressions were just wonderful,” Janus said with a sigh, “But you cannot write them off so quickly, they will warm up to you in time, trust me, I know from experience.”

“What do you mean?” Roman asked, tilting his head a little, Janus smiled, pulling his knees up to mimic Roman.

“I don’t think we know each other well enough for the full tragic backstory,” Janus said with a small smile, “But, they are as close as siblings, Lo and Vi, and they brought me into this group later after certain events.”

Roman nodded, looking back out towards the sunset, “Alright, I’ll trust what you say, and for the record, thank you for sticking to your word and bringing me along, even if your friends are a little prickly.”

“You’re welcome,” Janus said, nudging Roman’s arm to regain his attention before passing him the bag, “I got you some new clothes at the market - assuming you don’t want to remain in your gala attire?”

Roman laughed, “That is a kind gesture.”

“The reward we got for your assassination more than covered it,” Janus huffed, “So you basically payed for yourself.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, and Janus was started to realise how earnest his tone was.

“What… for?” Janus asked, frowning.

“I just- you’ve freed me, and - whilst Im sure you’ve had it worse - my life was hardly enjoyable back there, and you got me out, protected me, bought me clothes?” Roman said, trying to subtly wipe away a tear Janus was sure he wasn’t supposed to notice.

“As much as Vi is mad at me for it, I’m glad I could get you out of there,” Janus said softly, placing a hand on Roman’s arm, “I don’t know you well, but… back in the castle, it was clear you were unhappy.”

“Thank you, again,” Roman said with a small smile, “And I can- once I’ve gotten my barings I can leave, if you need me to, I’m happy to go alone.”

“Absolutely not,” Janus said sternly, “I didn’t kidnap a beautiful prince just for him to run off into the wilderness.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Roman asked, blinking those oh-so-beautiful eyes of his, Janus blushed- because oh dear he totally just said that.

“I didn’t say that.” Janus said, wonderful.

“I do believe you did,” Roman said, grinning, “awee- you’re all blushy! That’s adorable!”

“I have reconsidered, you can leave in the morning,” Janus mumbled, looking away.

Roman laughed, loud and free, “No take-backs! You’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”

“Oh no,” Janus huffed, “not petnames-”

“What, you don’t like them, darling?” Roman said, batting his eyelashes. Janus tried to cover the half of his face not covered in scales - which just happened to be bright red for no reason whatsoever - with one hand as he shoved Roman with the other.

“Stop it!” Janus cried, “I did call you beautiful, ok? Is that what you wanted?”

“Thank you!” Roman grinned, nudging him gently, “So are you, you know.”

Janus paused for a moment, while yes, those ‘pretty’ comments back in Roman’s bedroom at the palace had flustered him, he hadn’t really thought that Roman was being genuine, he still wasn’t entirely sure now, “Really?”

“Mhm,” Roman hummed, “I’d even go as far as to say you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever met, and trust me, I’ve been presented with many suitors.”

Janus choked, “That’s unfair, you can’t say that.”

“Whyever not?” Roman asked, looking almost genuinely offended, “Who are you to stilfel my truths?”

“Previously, the only person in this group able to lie,” Janus countered, “But now you’re here, so I suppose that title is invalid now.”

“I’m not lying to you, Janus,” Roman said softly, “That would be horrible of me, to lie about something like that.”

“I never said I thought you were lying,” Janus said, frowning, how the hell was this guy so perceptive? And on top of that, how had he earned such a reputation that painted him as some arrogant idiot. Really, it made no sense.

“Maybe not,” Roman said, reaching for Janus’ hand, “But you certainly implied it.”

“I did?” Janus asked, frowning further.

“You did,” Roman nodded, “I saw it in your eyes.”

For a moment, Janus couldn’t think of anything to say in return before sighing, “Are you sure you’d rather stay out here?”

“For now, yes,” Roman nodded, seeming to accept the topic change readily, “The sea is calming.”

“Alright,” Janus said, standing up, “In that case, I’ll go back to camp and bring you back something to eat, make sure you stay here?”

“Of course!” Roman smiled, “Thank you!”

Janus smiled softly as he stood up, turning to walk away, “You’re welcome, Roman.”

He’d barely moved a few paces before Roman called out again.

“Oh, and Janus?” He said, Janus turned, raising an eyebrow, “Do make sure you come back? It would just be so sad if I had to watch such a beautiful sunset alone.”

Janus laughed softly, “In that case, I’ll make sure I hurry.”

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

#sanders sides #roceit #roman sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #logan sanders #rowan writes

[catty-words]

now that i’ve spent a year with it and any given song off the album can still replenish my joie de vivre at the drop of a beat,

a non-exhaustive list of things i love about ever after (2011):

- themes!!! and! motifs!!! and how it’s about yearning for a simpler time all while knowing that you can never truly return and how the more often you try to go back to that simple time, it corrupts a little bit about what was good in the first place but also about how letting go of the innocence and hope you feel the pull toward would be just as unpalatable.

- vitally important to my listening experience is how these themes and motifs are grounded in music that captures an essence of the popular music scene from my high school years i’m not musically knowledgeable enough to describe in any concrete terms but absolutely, absolutely pings nostalgic to my ear without really having to try

- how josh ramsay et. al. were absolutely, honest-to-god trying

+ disclaimer before we really dive in: i know there’s an official story for this universe, an established canon, but i long ago decided that i get a rich enough story simply listening to the music. so though my interpretation may be wildly inaccurate, no it isn’t. :*

“ever after”:

- one of the joie de vivre restorers, the og, my everything

- how about the way my being in love with the intro ah-ah-ahh-ing from day one unlocked my appreciation for porcelain the character? no more than two days ago, i realized the ahhs were her leitmotif and had to sit with the implications of how that ties the whole album together, how it makes porcelain’s sweetness accessible to us in a way it never was to me when i only had the unreliable narration’s take on her, when i didn’t realize she had a voice of her own in the piece

- directly related, how i’m finding new stuff to lose my complete and utter shit about over a listen-heavy year later

- the way the opening lyrics successfully and instantly sweep me off my feet (and how captivating prologues are a hallmark of the band’s work, both in the writing and the performances)

- i mean, once upon a time / i used to romanticize / used to be somebody, nevermind / i don’t miss it that much now. i get chills every single goddamn time.

- the way our main character, the jaded mr. used to romanticize, is in conversation with a younger and idealistic version of himself in a way that makes me feel like porcelain is the younger version of carolina. the music ebbs and flows from the idealistic strings to the jaded, gritty guitar as the narrator once again gets pulled into his own yearning for the ever after he can never completely capture or hold onto.

- the way the second verse

functions as a call to action. sonically, too, i am rising to my feet, bloodied and ready to fight again. we are going back into the fantastical world of ever after, it was only a matter of time.

- don’t you move / can’t you stay where you are, just for now functioning as the tagline for the narrator’s self-destructive urge to cling to the simplicity of the past to the detriment of his present while also going so fucking hard should be illegal

- WHEN THE TOY SOLDIERS HIT (nobody told ya this was gonna fold ya!!!!)

- to have and hold ya, oversold ya being the first critical lyric in the case i’m building that the toy soldiers are the embodiment of our narrator’s aforementioned tendency toward self-destruction and self-loathing

- just. the build of the whole song. it’s gorgeous and it slaps, what more is there to say?

- the outro/transition into “haven’t had enough” can get it

“haven’t had enough”:

- the 8-bit sound of it and how the music somehow extremely effectively evokes playing an arcade game

- the criminally catchy hook and how this is another song that makes me at least thirty percent brighter no matter what emotional state i’m in when it starts playing. BOP O’CLOCK.

- the full circle of the song (testing, testing, i’m just suggesting / you and i might not be the best thing to testing, testing i’m just suggesting / you and i might just be the best thing) lending itself to the song’s place in the broader narrative. they’ve done this before, the narrator and ever after. in fact, they’ve been stuck now, so long / just got the start wrong. and it’s the hope that maybe things will work out this time that keeps mr. used to romanticize reliving his time in ever after over and over again (one more, last try / imma get the ending right). the arcade game is eating you alive but you’re actually pretty okay with the brightness consuming you. are you not?

- (i would inject this song directly in my veins, so yeah. you’ve got me, mr. romanticize, go on and insist / that [i] haven’t had enough.)

- that guitar (?) lick that comes in halfway through the chorus to revitalize it?? has me so completely by the throat i am a sleeper agent and that lick is my fucking trigger i am not responsible for what i do when it sets me off

- the don’t you need it?s and don’t you want it?s feeling like as much of a question for himself as for ever after/carolina/porcelain. is the cycle worth it? should we really be putting ourselves through this one more time?

- you know the moment in the chorus following the bridge, where it’s like one more, last try / imma get the ending - / YOUUUUUU? yeah, i like that a normal amount.

“by now”:

- i tend to think of this song as the official start to the story we’re meant to retread and retread and retread forever and ever amen. in order to get the ending right, we’ve gotta take a look at where everything went wrong. i feel vindicated in this read by the acoustic guitar. the jadedness stripped down

- it's time that i come clean, but / but for now can we just both pretend to sleep? building on the narrator’s defining flaw as his fear of change and how he tricks himself into believing that not moving in any particular direction means he gets to avoid the change entirely.

- how cheeky the line our talk is small, i'm seven inches tall reads to me because it captures a very real emotion about being formal with someone you know intimately, intimately but also because ever after is a fantastical toy land - let the album art influence your listening experience - and thus invites a more literal interpretation

- the menace of the drums in the outro; toy soldier motif anyone?

“truth or dare”

- you know, i didn’t love this one at first, nor “toy soldiers”, but now i’m deep in it for the villain songs

- nobody will know how you come and you go for it aka the toy soldiers being like “you’re so gagged for ever after, like, it’s kind of embarrassing for you”. wig fully snatched, i absolutely am horny for this album.

- just. the whole of verse two

and how it’s the seductiveness of the narrator’s worst impulses. give into this place, give into the comfort of it. it’s safe, we promise.

- the way the outro feels like clouds parting to the streaming sun, mr. heartthrob arriving on the scene with a near angelic leitmotif to stand up for himself against his own shit

“desperate measures”:

- and like, what i mean by that is, the whole song is about the narrator recognizing his shortcomings as a romantic hero, but pushing for action anyway. this song is the anti-stay where you are, just for now

- when the “desperate measures” guitar hits 👌

- the scathing humor infusing the lyrics gonna make a heartthrob out of me / just a bit of minor surgery / these desperate times call for desperate measures drives me fully insane. girlies when it’s gonna take minor surgery to make a heartthrob outta them but desperate times call for desperate measures

- hearing have a piece of american dream / open up and swallow, on your knees / and say, “thank you, i’d like some desperate measures, please” for the first time was just like, are we allowed to do this are we allowed to just record stuff like that and casually slide it in front of my ears my impressionable mind may experience lust 🥵

- fellas, is it personal growth to acknowledge you’ll never get over the pull of ever after? fellas, is it problematic to hinge your ability to get the ending right on a kiss for luck from your beloved when they’re already falling out of love with you?

asking for a friend.

“porcelain”:

- the vital, vital importance to the album’s fairytale aesthetics that the sweeping ballad is the exploration of the narrator’s best and worst quality: the depth of his love for porcelain, for their ever after life together. as his beacon of hope, it’s where he draws inspiration for moments of great heroism. but he also lets it run so deep that it overshadows his own personhood. and i love the way the music speaks to this dynamic with a pervasive and ominous and tense whooshing noise underlying the simple, beautiful melody.

- you can’t erase the way it pulls when seasons change because, like, yeah! time marching ever onward does pull at you, i feel this line in my bones. but also the way the line reflects back on the narrator’s relationship with living in the past vs. being in the present… woof

- the instrumental break slaps, it’s the best part of the song let’s be real. and the fact that the ahh-ah-ahhhhing returns! the narrator just told porcelain she has the space to tell him what she needs whenever she’s ready for that, and then the song itself gives her the break in which she can use her voice. fuckin masterful!!

“fallout”:

- SONG OF ALL TIME when the intro hits i lose all semblance of composure it makes me need to punch windows!!! i am gargling the glass!!! i am launching myself into the stratosphere and i’ll never feel the pull of gravity again!!!! FUCK

- okay but. the way this song is the narrator at his worst, his most cloying, his most pitiful. it is THE pathetic meow, meow anthem and the fact that it goes as fucking hard as it does... i cannot articulate the implications without wanting to pull out my hair but. it’s alluring!! being your worst self has a great pull on you! there’s a certain kind of dark triumph to it! WHERE’S THAT BROKEN GLASS

- the way the ‘boom-boom-tcha’ of the beat starts to speed up so there are no rests as we approach the chorus. we’re losing control: of ourselves of the narrative of the song itself!! take me away, ian casselman.

- the way you’re sleeping like a babe beside him makes me think of ‘babes in toyland’ every time i hear it. i’ve never actually seen the movie, i don’t know if it’s thematically resonant, but kind of like the seven inches tall lyric from “by now”, it simply tickles my brain that the words can evoke the universe we’re in with only sparse accompanying visuals

- how the performance of i know you’re fine but what if i / fallout crescendos. filed under: lyrics to belt along with in your car with all the windows down

- mm, shoutout to live at the rave milwaukee (2022) for giving me undying appreciation of the backing fallouts. can these boys harmonize or what?

- the way and nevertheless / it’s never you let tastes

- one of the very first things that captivated me about this song, and indeed the whole album, was the delivery of don’t tell me to fight / to fight for you / after this long, i shouldn’t have to. the pain of it?? the kinda understated wail? i turn this part all the way up in my headphones and ache ache ache

- god, just. i’m back to how pitiful it is to ask the person who’s broken up with you to be with someone else to take care of you because you don’t know how to get over this on your own. why do i love this song? why do i need to be screaming along to this song at all times?? i actually hate the narrator here, but god does the music move me in a way that kindles empathy

- porcelain’s leitmotif coming in to like, soothe us through the end of the song. the way that’s her doing what our narrator’s asked??? girl, couldn’t be me

“stutter”:

- i’d gone through a bit of a cool phase with this song, a period of ‘mm, this is cringe, actually’ but i’m just coming out the other end to be in love again. too fun for it’s own good.

- in terms of the narrative of the album (and this is the one thing i do know about the canon story), this is the narrator meeting a new character, one who has let themselves be consumed by ever after (i won’t ever be anywhere but here), now forever stuck in the cycle. it’s bright and fun - like the arcade game consuming you - but there is a brokenness to it, too. it’s too late to go / already taken me forever just to try…

- the backing ooh nah nahs tbh (thank you, matt webb)

- like, try not to bop along, i dare you

“toy soldiers”:

- now that our narrator’s been galvanized to want to move on, to leave ever after behind, we gotta get the villain in here to remind us you can’t actually escape.

- the lyrics who’ll be my montague now / to this broken capulet / how, how, how if not for you and the way the how-how evokes the word ‘house’ before moving on to the rest of the line.

- the refrain of don’t you want love? shining a light on the narrator’s insecurity that he’ll never have something as special and formative as his relationship with porcelain and how the toy soldiers are exploiting that to convince him to stay in ever after. you need to get this back, you can’t just walk away. don’t you think i [ever after/the narrator himself] deserve better after all that we’ve been through?

- and then of course the threat of i’ll follow you like toy soldiers, a reminder that ever after is with you whether you choose it or not.

- fuck man, the second verse

is fucking lit, the inherent threat. *touches a hot stove* the poetry of it.

- this song is one of those that never caught my attention when i was first falling in love with the album, but now i can’t believe there was ever a time i was kinda indifferent to it. it makes me feel like the embodiment of this emoji 😈, an emotion i apparently quite like to feel

“b team”:

- the way the intro of this one feels like a distorted version of “desperate measures”. the toy soldiers have baited the narrator into bitterness, and perhaps this is the part of the story where mr. used to romanticize is born, the seeds of him planted

- the way the second verse

illustrates the particular shape of said bitterness, and how it’s directed at porcelain for breaking the illusion of ever after again and again. the way this is clearly the least gracious read of their relationship - we see the narrator’s hand in the destruction even if he can’t - and really drives home the way mr. used to romanticize getting seduced again and again by the toy soldiers makes them the voice of his self-destruction

- the way porcelain’s out here like, “boy, i would pay you to stop.”

(this bridge bops, though, make no mistake)

- the way the ominous church music outro manages to communicate that there’s about to be a mother-effing reckoning

“so soon”:

- and in that reckoning, finally, the narrator lets go: of his bitterness, of porcelain, of ever after. it’s an achingly sad and slow affair, but there’s heart-wrenching beauty in the journey, as well

- the way the narrator’s love for porcelain shines brightest right here, in these quiet and unassuming verses

- the way the outro is, like, porcelain and our narrator being released to float peacefully away from us as the ominous organ takes over and - call me crazy - but it feels like the organ is ever after becoming more than just a presence in the narrative but a voice, as well. (i know rosh ramsay et. al. did the transition music at the very last second, so it’s honestly incredible how cohesive and Correct it all manages to be, happy to be out here stanning legends)

“no place like home”:

- GOD but the hundred-voices-as-one production of the opening lines and how it’s every version of our narrator who climbed into the hole of ever after one last time speaking at once

- the way that lends so much weight to familiar sins come crashing in / and sever forever and after / my old friend, it’s time i leave you here / for once, for all in frozen alabaster, his goodbye to ever after and to porcelain. maybe he really means it this time.

- (okay, but ever after, porcelain being home, though 😭😭)

- the lyrics my old friend, it’s time to say goodbye again / no need to tell me where you’ve been, i feel it for reasons only @nottheleastbrave​ knows and needs to know

- when our gritty guitar comes back now, it’s full of triumph, and we revisit some of the album’s key lyrics and this is it!! the narrator is taking what he needs from ever after to weave something new!! he’s breaking out but not leaving it behind!!

- WHEN THE TOY SOLDIERS HIT reprise

- the way the toy soldier chant builds to i face the music when it’s dire, finally a statement of responsibility and selfhood, a long way away from the i never face the music when it’s dire and the command of face the music when it’s dire in “ever after”. and in direct response to the toy soldier’s onslaught! i say that’s my baby and i’m proud!!

- and so does porcelain herself!! her gorgeous leitmotif coming in once more to bear witness to and approve of our narrator’s moment of self-actualization

- once upon a time / this place was beautiful and mine / but now it’s just a bottom line and he’s officially let go, freeing himself from the cycle

- and in closing off his path back into ever after, he’s finally worthy of the love he’d mythologized to the point of destruction ([there’s no] yellow bricks and happily - / ever after we lived / the end)

- the music box tinkle of an ending inviting you to start over from the beginning, find comfort in the fairy tale all over again. do you dare complete the circle one more time?

in summation: it’s a silly lil pop album, it’s high arté, everyone could get something worthwhile out of listening to it, no one will understand this album like i understand this album. thank you for reading.

#a manifesto no one asked for #got a lot out of writing it though #and it's going to make me putting this album on when i commute to work tomorrow most gratifying #marianas trench #ever after (2011)

[rosietrace]

Melodic Misconceptions 🎹

Track 06: Ellis

Synopsis: Victoria Shard was a former member of the popular idol group [ Poisoner ] from NRC corporations. After discourse with her group leader, Victoria decided it was best for her to leave and pursue her solo career in a record label run by her parents.

It had been half a year since her separation from her old group, and Victoria had never been more successful. But now she has a new problem. She must return to NRC corporations in order to mentor the seven idol groups.

Ellis Clawthorne is a member of [ (Co)-connect ] the most recent group under NRC'S belt. With no experience as an idol, Ellis must persevere in order to succeed and pursue her dreams.

Will both girls be able to adapt to their current situations?

✐ ✎_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_✐ ✎

Author's note: That's a wrap for the first 6 tracks y'all! I'm actually really happy that this is the last piece of writing I'm gonna post for this AU for 2022, since I've grown really attached to this AU ^^

This AU means a lot to me because of how enjoyable it is to write for, plus the fact that it brings me and my fellow creators together for the endless possibilities this AU can bring XD really excited for the future content I'm gonna make for this AU in 2023

As for this track specifically, I'd like for my fellow content creators of this AU to write their thoughts about this track specifically, since it's basically the starting point for newer content for this AU ^^

I'm sorry if this track didn't reach expectations, but it was definitely fun to write for ❤️ happy new years everyone

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

As soon as Ellis woke up and realized that her ankle was fully healed, she ran straight to the bathroom to shower.

The shower was relieving, but also frantic. She left as quickly as she came in, storming into her closet to put on some clothes.

I should wear something comfortable, it's not like I'm gonna meet Victoria as soon as I walk out… Ellis thought, putting on a tank top and pajama pants with strawberry patterning.

She smiled while looking at her reflection. It was comfortable, but also a tiny bit fashionable. Quickly taking out her phone, Ellis snapped a couple of pictures to post for funsies.

After posting, she surprisingly walked out of her room at the same time Yuuta walked out of his. Ellis looked at him, a tiny bit confused.

"Why are you wearing that?"

"We're gonna discuss with one of [ H & R ]'s members for a collaboration, I might as well look good."

"Eh- Should I change?"

"No need, we're gonna discuss it in the afternoon anyway. We've got a lot of time until then." When Yuuta eventually turned to face Ellis, he scrunched his nose.

"Why the hell are you wearing that?" Ellis left her mouth agape at his words, feeling offended.

"What's wrong with these?"

"Everything?"

"Hey! It's not like I'm gonna encounter Victoria at this hour!" Yuuta sighed and gently pinched her cheek, which made Ellis swat his hand away.

"Pffft- What?" Ellis squinted her eyes and sighed, walking to the living room alongside Yuuta.

"Nevermind…" she muttered, opening the living room door and walking to the kitchen to make some coffee for her and Yuuta.

Completely unaware of who's also in the room.

Although Ellis was unaware, Juvia, Yuuta, and Chizuko knew. The fact that she didn't even notice Victoria in the room was hysterical for Yuuta in particular.

Once the coffee had been finished, Ellis put them on two saucers. One had a pink ribbon with hearts while the other had a purple crown.

Setting down the two saucers of coffee on the table, Ellis was oblivious to the fact that she happened to sit next to Victoria. And the glance the latter sent her made Yuuta resist the urge to cackle on the spot.

Juvia held back a snort."Um…. Morning, Ellis." She laughed awkwardly, making Ellis a little skeptical.

"Morning Juvia. Uh…. What's wrong? You look a little more awkward than usual." Chizuko looked to the side awkwardly, a glint of amusement in her eyes while Juvia continued to give Ellis a couple of signals about who she was sitting next to.

Which Ellis did not catch in the slightest.

"Anyway…. Morning Chizuko, forgot to give you a good morning so good morning Yuuta, good morning Victoria-"

And boom, silence ensued as Ellis whipped her head to the girl next to her. Her idol. The one she was most excited to meet.

Victoria. Shard.

Ellis felt her jaw drop."V-VICTORIA?" She exclaimed, backing away a bit instinctively. Victoria raised her eyebrows in slight surprise before her poker face properly returned.

"Good morning. You must be Ellis Cawthorne, it's nice to see that your ankle is fully healed." Victoria smiled tenderly, which made Ellis freak out even more.

But honestly, can you blame her? If your idol smiled at you and happened to sit next to you, you'd probably do the same thing-

Ellis was too stunned to even speak. She just looked at Victoria with saucers for eyes.

Eventually, she took a couple of breaths, trying to calm herself down. Ellis stood up, a calm look in her eyes.

…. And she bolted out of the living room.

And that was enough for Yuuta to fall to the floor and start wheezing. Victoria couldn't help but laugh with him, feeling amused with what Ellis did.

Soon, Mayuu, Miren, and Carol entered the room to find Yuuta and Victoria of all people laughing.

Mayuu's eyes narrowed."I don't even wanna know…" she groaned, walking to the kitchen with Miren to make breakfast for everyone. Naturally, Miren narrowly avoided being in the same proximity as Victoria.

Carol walked to Yuuta and patted him on the back."Let it all out…" she said with an exasperated tone.

As for Victoria, she began pondering about Ellis.

Hopefully, I didn't scare her off…

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

"HURRY UP, I'M GONNA BE LATE!"

"WOULD YOU CALM DOWN? WE'RE NOT GONNA BE LATE!"

"YEAH BUT I WANNA SEE VICTORIA AND APOLOGIZE!"

Yuuta groaned, trying to keep up with Ellis while she was frantically running around the corporation to try and look for the recording studio everyone else was in.

"Just- Just hurry!" Exasperated by his struggle to keep up with her, Ellis grabbed Yuuta by the arm and essentially dragged him into each recording studio until they found the right one.

By the time they entered the right recording studio, the discussion was already in motion.

Carol sighed heavily."You two are late… For the most part." She commented, massaging the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

Yuuta was panting, trying to play it cool and act as if he wasn't a sweating mess wearing practically the most suggestive clothing in the room.

Freyah stood up and rushed to their sides."Are you two okay?" She asked worriedly, and Ellis laughed nervously, realizing Victoria was also in the room.

"Yup… We're fine, Freyah." Ellis assured, holding onto Yuuta as they both stood up, using each other as support. After doing so, Freyah carefully guided them to their seats so they could continue discussing with each other.

Freyah stood at the far end of the long table, and cleared her throat.``Anyway… As I was saying, I officially have the approval after convincing the company! Now, we'll be able to sing and perform 'Nxde'." She exclaimed.

"Ohhh, smart move on naming the song that way. It'll prevent groomers from searching for child pornography." Nyx, a soloist from the Octavinelle division, added.

Victoria smiled."It was my idea after Freyah talked with me about a song concept." Freyah blushed and smiled bashfully, making Juvia giggle.

"I think it's a good idea! It's an interesting way of showing female empowerment!" Juvia exclaimed, elevating the mood in case there was any tension in the air.

Zen hummed in perplexity."If the song's about female empowerment, why are Yuuta and Miren here?" He asked.

Carol smirked."Yuuta's got the hips to pass as a woman." She chimed in but frowned when Yuuta smiled proudly at her statement.

Chizuko hummed."I wonder about that as well. Hmm…" she pondered, making Miren chuckle awkwardly.

"Yeah…. Mind explaining that for us, Freyah?" Miren requested, making Freyah grin.

"I'd love to!" She and Ellis giggle in unison as she clasped her hands together and was given paperwork from Mayuu.

"To give the boys their moment to shine, I'm letting them have their mini performance as a bonus after our first performance of 'Nxde' in front of a live audience," Freyah explained.

Mayuu nodded discreetly."Yes, we've discussed things with the head director and we've been permitted Yuuta and Miren to perform whatever they want after your first live performance of the song." She repeated what Freyah said in more innate detail.

Miren gulped, and Yuuta grinned mischievously."Anything?" Miren questioned, already knowing Yuuta's gonna cause some sort of trouble.

Ellis glanced at Miren and laughed a bit." I'm sure Yuuta's not gonna do anything weird, Miren…" her sentence trailed off as she stole a glance at Yuuta, whose grin remained.

A bead of sweat fell down her face, an awkward smile forming.

".... I hope."

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

Tagging:

@starry-night-rose @nem0-nee @authoruio @windbornearchon @fumikomiyasaki @sakuramidnight15 @geminiiviolets @twsted-princess @crazyyanderefangirlfan @knights-escort

( Happy new years ❤️ )

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst ocs #twisted wonderland ocs #twst au #idol au #twst idol au #smau #twst smau #twst yuu #twst yuusona #yuusona #melodic misconceptions 🎹 #mutuals au #night raven college oc #nrc oc #night raven college #twst nrc #nrc #twst night raven college #(co) connect #go go (co) connect!! #hearts & roses #twst ramshackle #ramshackle oc #ramshackle

[thestarswithinthesewalls]

Umbrella Academy x Lego Monkie Kid Crossover Idea

*Sits in stool next to you. Leans on arm and stares directly into your eyes while sliding you a piece of paper with cracked crossover idea written at 3AM*               ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡ – ✧)

Like... hear me out. Lego Monkie Kid and Umbrella Academy.

I was literally just like," I like Umbrella Academy and I like Lego Monkie Kid so... what if... they just...met?"

Spoilers for both UA and LMK

Five and Klaus had just returned from their brief vacation and journey of somewhat self discovery when Diego basically stomped his way to them. Klaus couldn’t help but compare Diego to an angry toddler.

"About damn time you guys came back from your little vacation!" Diego shouted.

"Yeah, it was great! Found out I'm Amish!" Klaus replied.                   

"Well that explains a lot," Lila commented

"Yeah! Like our guests that I'm sure you have something to do with! Like we don't already have enough problems to deal with."

Diego spluttered a bit before finally making a coherent sentence, "WHAT DOES THAT EXPLAI-" 

"Doesn't matter what it explains. We have more important things to deal with then Klaus figuring out his identity crisis." Five interrupted.

"Then, it would be nice to know what I'm being accused of, Diego." Five said narrowing his eyes.

"If you're talking about the sparrows-" Five started.                                      

"I'm not talking about the sparrows." Diego interrupted though gritted teeth seemingly getting angrier with every word.

"Why don't you have a look, Five." Diego spat looking about ready to pick up and throw the boy

Five looked past Diego to the people behind him. There were the people who he obviously recognized to be his family. Klaus had moved to sit at the bar and was currently pouring himself a drink. Allison and Viktor were standing next to each other; both leaning on the shared pillar. Lila was next to Klaus, stuffing herself with sushi. All seemed normal (well, as normal as their situation could get) until Five looked to the opposite side of the room. What he saw was a whole assortment of people. Some people with animalistic features, some people completely different colours (colours humans were not supposed to be as far as Five was concerned) and some people that he wasn't sure were even human. Good examples were the 2 monkey men and the big, no, HUGE bull dude sitting in the corner with his knees to his chest because of his ridiculous size. Five assumed he was about twice the size of Luther. Maybe thee times? He couldn't properly tell since the bull thing was sitting down. Wait...where was Luther? Eh, that wasn't important now. He was next to some lady with gravity defying hair in the shape of bull horns which he was sure took multiple hours of her mornings to do. Five's mind came to the first logical conclusion it could. COSPLAYERS! Of course! Yep definitely cosplayers.

Just makes sense. 

"What? Is Comic Con in town or something?. What am I supposed to be looking at, huh?" Five sneered as he leaned close, invading Diego's personal space, also starting to look irritated with him.

 "As I said," he spat  "We have bigger things to-"

"Those aren't cosplayers genius," Diego cut him off.

(They really needed to learn to stop cutting each other off. It was getting annoying.)

Five looked behind Diego again, to see the "not cosplayer looking" people staring at him with just as much confusion on their face as he felt. A guy wearing a yellow-ish jacket and chocolate brown hair being held out his face with a red bandana (Headband? Ribbon... -thingy? What is that? Nevermind, it’s not important right now) waved nervously at him. Five sighed. 

This was going to be a long week.

Might continue it, might write something completely different, might make another crossover story, who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Let me know what you think and constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. Being an ass will not be tolerated

#umbrella acedmy #lego monkie kid #monkie kid au #umbrella academy au #crossover #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #lmk mk #mk #lmk au #lmk #ua #fic #fic idea

[yezielmoore]

25. Free Day: Storm (pt.6)

Me: what should we write today? Eureka AU, cocking a gun. Me, sweating: Oh! I know!

Okay, but like half of this was me just asking myself things like: ok, but how the fuck didn't they, like, suffocate in the first place? It's not like they had an atmosphere in the AS... wait! how would weather even work then??! And so the rest of it was me throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks, lmao.

.-,-.

"If you had told me a week ago that I'd miss the Aetherial Sea I'd have asked if Eilis had scratched you again and if you were hallucinating," Athene hissed as she applied a thick layer of cream to the parts of her skin that weren't covered in either feathers nor scales.

She was in the sleeping area, stripped down to her underwear as she struggled to reach all parts of her skin that had been rubbed raw by an unexpected shift in the weather earlier today.

Vyncent, who had been resting a twisted ankle on his cot, looked up from his book with a frown, slightly offended that the mortifying event was being brought up again. 

"That was one time," he protested.

Athene untwisted from her attempts to reach her back to throw him a look. If he thought any of them were about to forget how his experiment had gone, well… 

"So?" 

Vyncent huffed in annoyance, but he put his book down and got to his feet. Athene almost protested instinctively, but bit her tongue at the last moment. His ankle was healed enough that rest was only a recommendation more than an order and she did need the help. 

“Let me do that,” he offered, hand extended. Athene deposited the jar of salve on his palm and turned her back to him. She could feel the calculating look of appraisal he gave the burns in her back. “What was it this time? Snowstorm?”

Another hiss escaped her lips as the cream touched her skin, bringing with it the familiar sting followed by a soothing warmth. 

“Yeah. And after a firestorm too.” 

For obvious reasons, firestorms weren’t a problem for her. While everybody else had to take a great deal of precautions if they planned to go out during one, Athene could simply walk into it and all she would feel was, well, warm. 

The same could not be said of the thunderstorms, windstorms or, gods forbid, snowstorms. Any one of those would be annoying to deal with in normal circumstances, nevermind the way they shuffled unpredictably here, like a drunk trying to ride a chocobo. To make matters worse, they weren’t dealing with normal storms, oh no. They had to deal with aetherically charged storms, because the Isle of Val extended stay in the Aetherial Sea had fucked it up almost beyond recognition, something they were painfully aware of. 

Despite all that, none of them had considered the weather. They had, in all honesty, completely forgotten about the concept of weather, what with having none for a whole year. 

None of them had wanted to look too closely at the reality that they had been floating in a river of aether (The River, caps included), that they had had no atmosphere and should have rightfully suffocated within seconds of arriving there. Everything was aether at its most basic level, so it made a certain amount of sense that pure aether could sustain life. Right?

(Except that human bodies were also 60% water and that didn’t mean you could throw yourself into a river and not drown). 

In the end it came down to Will and Memory. 

Will and Memory and the inexplicable barrier that prevented the tides of the Lifestream from overpowering their fragile minds and washing them away. That had been their conclusion when nothing else made sense. They breathed because that’s what living bodies did. They had air because they needed it. Was that enough to keep a whole island in one piece? None of them had dared to answer that question. They already knew.

No, something else kept the island in one piece. Something Athene suspected had been locked away in the Baldesion Arsenal for a long time. The fact that they had benefited from it and somehow survived was just… a side effect. A happy coincidence for them, but probably not something that whatever thing or being had considered at all.

“Done.” Vyncent screwed back the lid on the jar, his voice bringing Athene back from her memories and the pile of questions none of them had conclusive answers for. “You could’ve healed yourself, you know?” He pointed out blandly, not in accusation but as an observation.

Athene shrugged. She pulled up her shorts and grabbed a clean shirt to cover herself with.

“It’ll heal on its own in a few hours, why bother?” 

One of the best things her mutations had given her was an outstanding healing rate. Things that would’ve needed medicine and weeks to heal now took, at most, a couple of days of rest. She could accelerate things further with spells, but it took only one time of being out of mana in an urgent situation for her to learn that it was better to bear a little pain and discomfort than need magic and not have it because she had spent it healing scrapes. 

Vyncent nodded in acceptance and walked back to his cot. He picked up his book, but didn’t open it, just turned it around in his hands. 

“Is it really that bad out there?” 

Whether it was luck finally smiling on them or something else, the weather in this part of Val wasn’t as extreme as she knew it could get. It could and did change unexpectedly, but it had nothing on the extremes she had experienced since she started exploring the rest of the island, now that they had access to it. 

“The monsters are weaker, if not less territorial and aggressive.” That discovery had been a huge relief. Even if they did attack on sight or at the slightest movement, so far she hadn’t come across anything she couldn’t outrun or defeat. “But the weather? I have never seen anything this unpredictable or violent.” She rolled her eyes and plopped down on a chair, arms crossed over the backrest. “Of course, it doesn’t help that the place turned into a tundra when we weren’t looking. I’m not made for ice anymore!” Athene complained with a whine. 

She had never been made for ice. Ice and snow were miserable conditions to be exposed to, and yes, she had lived on Old Sharlayan most of her life and she still absolutely loathed snow. And no, the person that could convince her otherwise didn’t exist.

Vyncent didn’t react beyond a light hum, gaze lost somewhere in the distance. Athene left him to his thoughts. Instead she started straightening the little feather on her forearms, slowly working her way up to her shoulders and cursing up a storm whenever she had to pluck a broken one. Damn blizzards. 

“What do you think it’ll be like? Back home.”

“I don’t know,” she said after a too long pause. 

Athene had… doubts, about how well received they would be once they finally found a way out. She had tried not to dwell on it overmuch, but on the long stretches of time she spent on her own, her brain naturally brought up all the questions she had no answers for and all the doubts she had no way to assuage. 

She wanted to believe that they would be accepted back and treated well. That they would receive the help they needed. But, for all that she had grown up pretty sheltered in Sharlayan, Athene wasn’t so naive as to believe the world was fair. As much as some people admired the things the Echo allowed her to know, just as many people hated it and avoided her because of it. People didn’t like that which was different. It was a lesson she learned early on. And looking at them now…

What were they if not egregiously different?

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #eureka au #athene noctua

[backup-backdown]

B’s Strawberry Patch [Fic]

[~3k words]

[Rating: General Audiences]

[Wammy’s era, backstory stuff. Fluff and trauma.] 

Uhh. I wrote something. 

Apologies for the minor mention of some unintroduced OC’s. Florence and Salle are students at Wammy’s who we know more about in all of the writing I haven’t posted yet. Because.... I’m lazy. but nevermind that, I finally did a little character study on B. Just a littel taste. Here you go.

“B, my boy, you need to get a hobby.”

The words were at first incomprehensible, then surprisingly harsh– At least, coming from Wammy. While he wasn’t exactly soft, he was certainly known to most of the children as kinder than Roger– You wanted to face him with your questions about uncertain feelings, embarrassing problems, normal things that Roger would treat like the rites of a Satanic ritual when discussed around children. Roger was much better at– and some could argue, relished– giving bad news or reprimands. For this reason, when Wammy was stern, B actually listened. 

“I have a hobby.” B frowned, pulling at the loose thread on his sweater. 

Wammy sighed, smiling softly. “B, you haven’t played the piano in months.” B looked up at him sharply, then back to his unravelling sweater.

“Because I’ve mastered it. Am I to play through a composer’s entire life’s work in order to beat it into the ground?” He was growing agitated, and yanked the thread as he spoke, bunching it up. Wammy laughed. 

“I understand, B– You’re entirely devoted to your studies. It’s admirable, and perfectly in tune with what the program is intended for, but it’s also important that you branch out and explore interests not merely for the sake of academia. If it helps, think of them as extracurriculars. The–” He hesitated briefly– “The staff is, well… They’re worried about you. There’s a very high risk of burnout if you carry on this way, and your education and upbringing should be sustainable. You’re not meant to become a world specialist in criminal justice in a year, or even ten. This will take time, B, and while a full force effort is recognized, it is best saved for when it’s asked of you. For now, we are asking you to pace yourself.”

B snorted, snapping the thread. He looked up at Wammy, squinting at him from across his desk. “Well? What do you want me to do?”

Wammy suppressed another sigh with another long-suffering smile. “Whatever you want to do. I suppose you tend to approach things with the goal of mastering, completing, or otherwise overcoming them, and that’s perfectly fine for academics, but perhaps another approach would be better suited for constructive leisure. Have you given much thought to creative pursuits?”

B contemplated this, slumping deeper into the plush armchair beneath him. “I thought music was creative.”

“Well, generally if you compose your own pieces, then yes. But I seem to recall you vehemently refusing to do so when the idea was proposed, unless you’ve changed your mind–”

“No. It would just be another composer’s work in a different form.” 

Wammy laughed. “I believe by your logic, no books are original, as they use the same letters as Chaucer or Dickens. But I follow what you mean, if partially. What about painting, or sculpture?”

B was silent. 

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to try. I know that Mr. Barnes would be more than happy to teach his skills to someone, Lord knows he’s been burdened with his artistic background quite heavily in his time here, being forced to teach history. He’s been nearly bitter at times about it before. It would be a shame to let his other skills go to waste, perhaps the both of you could benefit from it.” Wammy was half-talking to himself by this point, and B could see the plans already formulating in his brain. 

“No.” B knew he was being petulant at this point, but he didn’t want to be having this conversation. If he simply refused everything Wammy suggested, the old man would eventually get frustrated and let B resume his normally scheduled activities. He didn’t understand why it was an issue, really— At first B is told that he must study and work hard in order to receive his promised rewards, but, oh, now not that hard. What this meant, then, was that they all must have underestimated him. B scowled at the thought. Of course they did. After all, he was number two. Maybe this was their twisted way of keeping him in that position.

“If you’re not going to choose something to do, then I will choose something for you. I thought a creative outlet might allow you to expel your energy in a less exhausting way than studies, but perhaps you need something entirely different.” Wammy gazed contemplatively at B, hands folded under his chin. After a moment’s pause, he smiled. 

“I think both the gardens and you might benefit from some hard work.”

~*~ 

Child labor. Wammy’s proposal amounted to child labor, B was sure of it. He and Wammy stood outside the greenhouse, squinting through the midday sun at the gardens surrounding it. While it wasn’t in shambles, it was clear that the greenhouse had been unattended for quite some time, and the bushes over grew, few blooms to snow despite the time of year. B curled his toes into the dirt beneath him, sulking while Wammy examined the area. Weren’t there laws about this sort of thing? 

“Until you find some other activity you’d rather do, you could work in the gardens or the greenhouse— Given it’s cleaned up some, I’m sure you could find a more academic pursuit in botany, perhaps some floristry. However much effort you put into it is entirely up to you, but I’d like you to spend at least an hour out here a day, save for the first two days of the school week, and weather permitting. It would be entirely yours, with no supervision required by staff, although if you wanted advice from the groundskeeper, I’m sure he would be happy to help. Otherwise, you’ll have to think of something yourself.”

B pressed his lips together, folding his arms tightly around himself. It felt like a punishment, entirely unfair. But B could adapt-- he was excellent at suffering. He’d already begun forming his own ideas as to how he’d manage to make this experience bearable (nevermind the fact that Quillsh had just told him he could think of something else, this was a challenge as much as a punishment and B did not refuse challenges,) musing that this would be a fantastic way to fuck off and do as he pleased during school hours. Quillsh didn’t give him enough credit— B wasn’t all studying, with no play. He would let the others drag him on their adventures, smoke cigarette stubs someone had collected from the ground, and carve out grotesque scenes into fallen tree stumps. He couldn’t really offer those outings to Quillsh as a hobby, though, and to be fair, they weren’t very structured activities. They mostly just ended with someone getting a poison ivy rash, or returning to the house with a lunch sack full of worms. 

This particular task was somewhat more restrictive than simply wandering around the grounds around the house-- He’d be within sight of the orphanage, close enough for other people to bother him. But people rarely did linger around the garden much, the other students instead choosing to spend their time roaming, or at the more closely maintained front garden. When he thought about it, B realized he couldn’t really remember the last time anyone paid any mind to the back garden. It was, even for it’s proximity to the house, a place of solitude. It would be his. He considered having a space to himself. 

In Krasnoyarsk, he rarely belonged, and even rarer were things that belonged to him. His instinctive distrust had melted away the more time he spent at Wammy’s, and when Quillsh told him something was his, he believed it.

He liked it. 

The strawberry patch was his.

When exams season neared, the patch wilted. The more demanding the classwork grew, the fewer qualms B had with simply letting the whole thing decay. But in the early summer, like glorious clockwork, the patch thrived, rising to vibrance under B’s distracted attention. It turned out it wasn’t that difficult to get the unmanaged patch to produce fruit.

It needed a great deal of cleaning out, to be sure. He mostly spent his first few days hacking bedgrudgingly at the waist-high weeds that had taken root amongst the main strawberry beds, plotting his violence vengeance on whatever idiotic staff member had presented Quillsh with their ‘concerns.’ He seethed about the idea that he, the top student who was clearly more well-adjusted (and better at being an actual human) than his competitors, would be at risk of ‘burnout.’ His anger cleared the entire patch of several bins of weeds, the rotted wheelbarrow half-submerged in dirt on one end of the gatden, and a few rotted strawberry plants by the end of the week. 

The next day, he trudged out to the garden, and spent most of his hour sitting. Thinking. Mostly thinking about how ridiculous it was that he was out here, staring at a clean, barren garden, while the boy who could obliterate his name from the pages of history itself sat inside, likely miles ahead of him. He thought of ripping the remaining strawberry plants out of the ground, shredding their roots and small, light grean leaves, abandoning the whole project, giving Quillsh the finger, and kicking A’s ass. Intellectually and physically. 

He couldn’t. Instead, he found a hose, blasted the tiny plants with water, then went back inside for the day. For a few weeks, stewing and watering the plants was all he really did.

Despite this, He was greeted by mid-summer with tiny green berries. He thought at first that some sort of larvae had attached itself to the flowering plants, but was struck with awe when he realized they’d produced fruit. He’d produced fruit, in a way. The sight of actual progress made him forget his plans for vengeance, and the bitterness in his mind was replace with all sorts of ideas for what he could do with the berries when they ripened. He was now motivated partly by the occasional desire to simply get away from the house, and moreover the thought of the house cook’s strawberry rhubarb pie. He became far more troubled with actually getting the patch to produce more fruit than actually managing it, and paid no mind when the roaming plants took root in the tulip beds across the garden. He did eventually clean out the greenhouse, reasoning that he’d need somewhere to store his supplies, and it didn’t hurt that some of the overgrown herb planters were salvageable. 

That old bastard really had convinced him to engage in manual labor, but B had begun to like it. He liked the solitude, the feeling of protective satisfaction with his plants, and the signs of nature shown on his tanning skin in dirt and sweat when he returned to the house for the night. Roger would mutter about hiring a gardener on occasion, shaking his head at the sight of strawberry runners creeping alongside his office window (his office, which was set on the opposite side of the house from the garden, a good ways away from it) and B would pay him no mind. In the long run, both Roger and Quillsh were relieved B had found a less destructive hobby, and they no longer had to worry about finding half-completed, amateurish taxidermied roadkill in the staff’s records room.

As the patch flourished, B flourished in turn. He woke up at sunrise each day, slinking out of the house in his slippers to check the patch, evaluating whether or not he’d harvest today or tomorrow. He was immeasurable ecstatic after his first harvest, proudly presenting a basket of small, red, wrinkly strawberries to the house cook. Considering how ridiculously the patch had sprawled out, it was a rather sad harvest, but B was immensely proud of himself. He tucked away three of the jars of strawberry jam the cook used them for for himself, two to eat, and one to just look at. 

All things considered, B was beginning to grow into a reasonably well-rounded child. More than he’d previously considered himself to be, at any rate. He didn’t want to admit that Quillsh was right, but finding  his life no longer restrained to his studies gave him a certain level of peace. He snapped at his class partners less, and paid less attention to Roger’s lectures. He spent them staring out the window, lips twitching as he held back a smile at the sight of a tiny red berry on the window ledge. He even shared his precious jam with a few of his friends, out on one of their free-roaming adventures. Florence had brought the fancy crackers the cook kept hidden above the refridgerator, and they ate them together in silence, all agreeing wordlessly that it was the best jam any of them had ever eaten. B didn’t like the attention the patch had begun to draw from both students and staff, but it was mostly by reputation. It was a sacred site, and although the younger students still whined at the cooks to make more strawberry crumble, B and the patch itself were mostly left alone. 

His menacing attitude that had previously caused other students to give him a wide berth wasn’t as effective as it once was, and though still not by everyone, he became liked. The cook was particularly fond of him, and although he didn’t mean for it, the ventures with jam and crackers in the forested grounds created a different kind of dynamic between him and his friends. He still got into fights, but more often, it was in defense of someone else-- Not himself. The violence wasn’t really needed in any of the circumstances he found himself in, but Salle in particular, who had a similar appetite for vengeance, but a smaller stature than would allow it, appreciated the thought. He became as protective of his friends as he did his garden.

He found that it was good to be loved, even if the price was learning to love in return. He still did not grant any attention to new students, and still despised certain teachers, but he’d finally found himself on solid ground. He’d given himself enough room for vulnerability. 

He didn’t like it. 

At least, he told himself he didn’t like it. There’d be a day where it all came crashing down, where someone betrayed him, or he was hurt, and he’d have to move again, and he’d return to drifting between places that were never homes, finding barren field after barren field. He knew it wasn’t right to feel as comfortable as he did, but despite his natural instincts, couldn’t dwell on his pessimism for long. B was starting to really believe he’d found a place where he belonged. A home.

The only thing standing in his way was A. 

A had the one thing B did not– Approval. The title, the position, the chance for everything B was working towards. In the grand scheme of things, the strawberry patch didn’t matter. Even his friends, as helpful as they were, did not matter. There was only one thing that really mattered, and he couldn’t afford to soften and let the competition win.

A was number one. He was soaring ahead of B, it seemed, and the staff treated him like some kind of child-angel, like a superhuman being who could cure any disease with a touch of the hand. It drove him insane. Before he saw his own growth, he saw A’s growth. He saw A continuing to excel, to get ahead of him, in front of him, above him. The warmth he felt when receiving praise from the house cook for his progress in their lessons was instantly washed away with a cold jealousy for the reverent silence that overtook the room when A walked in. 

A did not have hobbies. A’s inhumanity, which B had previously regarded as a weakness, was really his strength. A was never told to engage more in extracurriculars to avoid burnout– A was pushed, and pushed, and pushed because he could take it. B couldn’t. That’s what it was. He figured it out one day, two years after his work on the strawberry patch had begun. He was passing by the staff break room; the door was left cracked open, and he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. He didn’t intend on doing so for very long, but the sound of his name made his feet turn to lead.

“Yes, he’s doing well. He’s never cooperated this well with the structure before. Nearly no complaints from the infirmary this month, which is pretty remarkable. It’ll really be beneficial for him, he’s learning skills he might need later to… Well, you know.” A hum of acknowledgement from another voice. “I just don’t think he’ll take it as well as the others would. Like A.”

He didn’t know exactly what they were talking about, but he had a pretty good guess. These weren’t good intentions. They were just being proactive. All of them– the staff, Roger, Quillsh– they weren’t enriching his education.

They were softening a blow.

Florence finds him one afternoon ripping up the strawberry patch. He’s not harvesting, the berries scattered on the ground around him are already mushy and overripe, moldy bits sticking to each other in the sweaty August sun. He was uprooting them, ripping apart leaves, kicking clumps of dirt over his plants. His hair stuck to his forehead, plastered in sweat, a grim expression on his face. His shirt was stained with fruit pulp, and his hands were black from digging in the rich dirt he’d so carefully fertilized the growing season before. He didn’t look at her, and continued to destroy the beds. After that point, and for the remainder of his stay at Wammy’s, the garden remained empty. The plants rotted. The weeds returned.

#im getting used to just. creating again bear with me #i have so many ideas and feelings in my head and no way to execute them well so #sorry :)) #beyond birthday #death note #my writing #Wammy's House #Wammy Kids #writing #also i realized this could read like b's whole reason for going insane and in a way it definitely. contributes. to him going rogue #but this story alone shouldn't be considered as a grand turning point #wammy's house was a neverending well of betrayal and dissapointment #barely proofread