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6lostgirl6 · 11 months

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A Night To Dismember

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

TW: Detailed Gore, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Sexual Assault [Not by Michael], Slightly Possessive Michael, Protective Michael, Mature Audience only!

A/N: Requested by my bestie @prettywhenibleed! I really hope you enjoy this and it was an absolute pleasure to write this for you!! Love you, my favorite slasher whore! ❤️ This isn't my best work, I'm afraid, forgive me.

The Smith's Grove Sanitarium operated according to a schedule that was consistently set in motion without interruption. No authorized doctor employed by the sanitarium, however, would have foreseen this. Medical specialists thought they were completely familiar with Michael Myers' behavior. He was docile and kept to himself, despite being the most dangerous and threatening patient in the hospital.

But if you left him alone, there was a chance he would treat you in a similar fashion. The sole exception would be if touching his masks or otherwise bothered him. Even being among other patients was something he never enjoyed.

You were a new patient, recently exiled from society and your family because of your dreadful infatuation with fire and burning objects of interest. Your arrival left the building in absolute shock. On your first day, you were assigned to the recreation room. When you entered the room, your initial instinct was to walk over to the largest and most dangerous man within the sanatorium while grinning brightly. You only watched him work on a paper mache mask while standing over his hunched figure in the corner of the room, his hospital-approved supplies scattered along the table.

You thought the colors were stunning, which you happily expressed.

As a precaution against Michael harming you, guards stood by the recreation room's entrance wielding batons. Michael, on the other hand, did the exact opposite, giving you a cursory glance before grunting and slackly pointing for you to sit next to him.

It was like you and Michael had your own timetable inside the sanitarium, and this went on for the next few months without fail. As directed by his psychiatrist, Michael was permitted to create his masks in the recreation area in the mornings. You would follow not far behind and take your normal seat beside him at a table chosen at random, apart from the other patients. You would merely watch him create his masks and ramble about whatever was on your mind. Michael never responded to the conversation, but that didn't stop you from talking to him because he had his own style of doing so without words. You have grown accustomed to deciphering his thoughts from his basic grunts and gestures.

"Hey, Mikey." You said with a smile, taking a seat at your usual spot next to Michael's side, placing your tray of food onto the table.

Michael was in the middle of placing wet paper mache on the face mold for his mask, his fingers caked in colors of paint and residue from the paper mache. He paused for a moment, giving you a small grunt as acknowledgement before returning to his activity.

You smiled more, chuckling at his usual ways of communicating as you watched him craft. You've always been interested in his masks and the variety of patterns he would use for each one. Many of his masks had their own unique qualities. However, you knew to only look, not touch.

"I see you're adding bright colors this time; are those happy pills finally working?" You teased him, nudging him softly with your body.

Michael huffed through his nose, which you learned was his way of chuckling as he shook his head at you. In the past, It took a while, but you had a better understanding of Michael's gestures and emotions than the doctors.

Simply because you treated him like a person, not an experiment.

"Maybe next time then." You replied, turning towards your tray before glancing at his project once more. "You're really good at that, Mikey. You're really talented."

Once again, Michael paused his movements, his stained fingers holding the paper mache while his eyes remained downcast. His fingers twitched before he resumed, and you almost thought you said something wrong.

"I didn't mean-"

You were cut off as Michael grabbed another mold from the table, pushing it in your direction. Your eyes widened slightly as you pushed your tray out of the way as Michael's slow movements brought other materials in your direction.

Still in slight awe, you watched him turn towards you, and your eyes connected through his favorite orange mask. You couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes stared into your own, seemingly piercing into your own soul.

The doctors were wrong; his eyes weren't soulless, nor were they black, resembling a massive void of nothingness. They were blue, similar to a clear sky or the glimmering waves of the ocean.

He huffed before pointing a finger at the materials and then towards you. He wanted you to mold with him.

"Thank you, Mikey." You said softly, a bright smile on your face.

When your eyes met Michael's, he was unable to comprehend the sensation in his chest. Usually, when his sight fell on their figures, individuals would tremble or turn away. He wasn't concerned by their fear of the facility's most dangerous patient. He actually benefited from the fear he instilled in the hearts of many who came to the sanitarium.

Yet you didn't...and he liked that.

He liked that you weren't scared of him, speaking to him, or even touching him like you've been these past few months. The thought of you being scared of him made him feel...hollow.

When you started working on your own mask using the materials that were laid out on the table, Michael couldn't help but covertly place a palm on his chest to feel how his heart was refusing to settle down. He almost wanted to groan in annoyance, hating the way he liked being around you and having your attention.

He had been content with his solitude for a long time, He preferred being alone and had been for many years. However, the notion of you leaving him made the murderous itch inside him threaten to resurface.

He decided that he would keep you with him, protect you with everything he has, and extinguish anyone who threatened to ruin that. With darkened eyes, he returned to working on his mask.

On that day, you and Michael became closer.

You weren't born yesterday and you certainly weren't born stupid. Trouble was afoot in the institution and it was either happening under the doctors' noses or they simply didn't care enough to investigate. Over the past week, you would hear feminine screams down the hallway in the women's section of the institution during the late hours of the night. Last night, the screams could be heard two doors down from your room.

The screams and cries began when a new guard was appointed to the institution, supposedly replacing a well-known guard who was at the age of retirement. Due to your paranoia, you would sit on the edge of your bed, watching the door in the chance of someone entering your room when they weren't supposed to.

During the days, you would spend all you could with Michael, hoping that your association with him would make you seem off limits to mess with, or you hoped. Yet, Michael couldn't protect you when the sun went down and the men and women would return to their respective cells on opposite sides of the institution.

Tonight, you were following the same routine, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching the door. Your mind was in shambles, trying to come up with a plan in that chance, that horrid chance of the new guard coming for you. You hoped it wasn't what you were thinking, and for once, you prayed.

God never heard your prayers, and he certainly didn't now, especially when the jingling of keys were heading down the hallway, towards your room.

Michael couldn't sleep and when he couldn't sleep, he would simply pass the time by creating more masks or painting designs onto them. He was sitting at his desk, the surface covered in paper mache, markers, paint, and crayons. He was in the middle of adding a touch of red when he heard the distant sound of screaming.

His annoyance was disguised under his mask as he sighed and tightened his grip on the crayon in his hand to the point that it almost broke in half. He puffed again at the commotion and went on, indifferent to the screams. Perhaps a patient was making a scene during the nightly check-ins.

In order to block out the noises, Michael withdrew within the walls of his mind. It was a way that allowed Michael to escape freely from the confinement of his cell. He would always imagine a life outside the institution, with you. He would imagine the way he would protect you and provide for you. The thought used to sicken himn, but now he enjoyed it, the possibility. The sound of keys jingling, seemingly opening his cage, caused him to pause, though. With a loud crash, the cell door swung open, and shouting could now be heard outside of his room.

"Want some, freak?" The guard asked him in an mocking manner while Michael remained at his desk, his back to the guard. Michael immediately understood what the guard was pulling when he heard the feminine screams and intended to ignore it.

He continued to ignore his surroundings, ignoring the rage building within his chest. The sound of his bed creaking didn't deter him from continuing on with his activity. However, it all changed when the victim screamed one word.

"Michael!"

You.

Your trapped figure on his bed, with your nightgown pushed up so that only your thighs were visible, caught Michael's attention as his head whirled around. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, which streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and struggled. His eyes quickly shifted to the guard hovering over you, and he developed tunnel vision instinctively.

A ferocious roar erupts from Michael's mouth and takes hold of the guard by the neck and collar of his shirt, throwing him off balance. In the midst, you shakily brought yourself to a sitting position, fixing the bottom of your nightgown to cover yourself. Your eyes watched as Michael picked up the guard, pinning him to the wall with eerie silence. The man in his grasp was yelling in pain and fear as Michael kept him pinned, his legs dangling in the air.

"L-Let go! Let go, you fucking punk!" The guard cried out.

Michael did not like that, not at all. Without a second thought, Michael hurled him into his desk, his art supplies falling to the ground in a cluster of clangs while the man groaned in pain. Like a predator stalking his prey, Michael's towering form stalked over to the smaller male, his eyes black as night and void of any life or mercy within. His large hand reached out to grab the same red colored pencil,

Michael's next action seemed to be a blur, he body launching onto the guard and stabbing him with the colored pencil, his resiliant strength making the pencil tear through flesh and muscle.

You watched in a sickening twist of fascination and awe, watching as Michael stabbed the guard over and over, leaving no body part untouched, the man;s screams filling the room. Your heart felt warm, knowing that Michael was willing enough to kill someone for you.

Lastly, Michael stabbed him until his chest, stomach, and face was shrouded in punctures, cuts, and wounds. With one last jab, the colored pencil stabbed into his neck, making the man gurgle on his own blood.

"Michael..." You whispered, your eyes taking in his bloodied form as he slowly turned to you, heaving himself up and moving towards you. It was as if he was a trained dog hoping he made his master proud. However, you were nothing of the sort. When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into his strong form. "Thank you..."

Michael gave a small huff, hesitantly touching your head with his bloody palm, staining your strands with the bodily fluid. Without another word, Michael pushed you away and grabbed your hand, pulling you off the bed and heading towards the door.

"Where we are going?" You asked in confusion, following behind the behemoth of a man down the stark white hallway.

In response, Michael tugged on your hand and you decided to go along with whatever he had in his mind. He saved you after all; even when he didn't have to, he did. It made you feel safe and protected in his presence.

"Alright, Alright." You muttered, your figures turning a corner and out of sight.

Red and white.

Those were the colors you would never forget. The way the walls were coated in blood and bodily fluids of various nurses and guards that laid along the floor in mangled messes.

Michael was strong, very strong. You remembered the way he smashed a guard's skull in with his fingers alone. You shuddered at the thought, crossing your arms and staring at the wall in front of you as you waited for Michael to finish off his last victim. A nurse arriving at the right place at the wrong time as Michael ambushed her, his hands around her throat as he strangled her.

Michael walked over to you, his muffled huffing practically hovering over your ear as he showed you shoes and coat. You stared at the items with a blank expression, wondering what he wanted you to do with these.

He huffed before shaking the items in his hands, motioning the items towards you. You sighed before taking the items with a small smile, throwing on the shoes and coat. You felt the warmth of the fabric soothe your cold figure.

"Thank you..." You muttered softly, looking up at him as he stared down at you.

He couldn't help but think you looked...cute.

He offered you his bloodied hand, which you instantly took and followed him to the exit. You both were finally going to be free and it was all thanks to him.

After a few hours of walking, your feet were beginning to ache and the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off.

After your fifth yawn, Michael stopped in his tracks, turning towards you in the middle of the field. He simply stared at you as you bent forward to rest your hands on your knees.

Michael, I need to rest for a moment. Please my-" Your words were cut off when Michael stormed over to you, grabbing you roughly around the hips, hoisting you into his arms. His arm went around your waist, while the other held your back in a bridal style fashion.

Your eyes widened from his sudden roughness, however you couldn't complain as you basked in his warmth, nuzzling your face in the bloodied fabric of his robe.

"Thank you." You said, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to finally relax for the first time tonight. You didn't notice the way Michael was staring at you in his arms, his darkened eyes filled with something unknown, dangerous...maybe even a little bit of caring.

Silently, he turned and resumed walking through the field, making sure to keep you safe as you began to doze in his arms.

Finally, you were his.

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trinitywc · 3 months

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big fan of the great light!!! do you have any advice for story structure/finding the balance between slow and fast pacing?

so long answer, as usual

I start off by thinking of the Main Points I want to write about, and then fill out from there with Secondary Points. For example, TGL: Main Points (this isn't 100% accurate to the book just a rough example) - WoodClan and CreekClan go to war; a nuclear bomb is dropped - The cats are split up, but find each other by a badger sett - Radiation sickness sets in while trying to find their friends - The cats decide to leave to find their Clan Is the basic plotline, and then i fill it out with moments I want, I'm calling these 'Secondary Points', these are what needs to happen to allow the 4 Main Points above ie for the First point to happen, the Clan needs to be introduced and the setting developed so; - introduce Pinepaw and those closest to her, her mentor, her sister, - introduce the war between the Clans - give Pinefrost a motive to hate WoodClan (her mother's death) and reject her pacifist wishes - hint at the human war with various planes, barbed wire, and soldier mentions So I made a timeline of Apprenticeship > Warrior > Bomb, adding scenes that served a purpose (Secondary Points) and those I deem necessary; introducing a character like Blackwillow as mysterious but distant from his Clan by having him appear on the riverbank, showing Chestnutspike and Ouzelheart's relationship, showing CreekClan's buildup to war and training, showing Pinefrost as a rash, impulsive, but curious, young cat by introducing her as runnign away from her duties to explore the forest (with her friend who wants to impress her). "Necessary" scenes in WaCa fic are stuff like 'this is the medicine cat' 'this is her warrior ceremony' 'this is Clan life and hunting and patrolling', so mileage will vary on your story. When it comes to "fast vs slow" pacing, I'm not sure. I think by starting with the Big Points and whittling down, you can keep the story going- and Story also includes character moments - the "break" in TEW where the cats are in the House also explores the ruined city and affects of the bomb, gives Cuckoopaw and Rutherford some character moments (ie training sessions), not everything is nuclear war 100% of the time. Even if characters are doing something "slow" like walking, or routine hunting, something can happen- character motive reveals, backstory, or just some joking to build relationships, a nice 'break' from the fast 'something happening all the time'. I like to think back to first arc warriors were something happened every chapter (Dangerous Path - Tigerstar is revealed as ShadowClan leader, then Whitestorm reports smelling dogs, then Fireheart bumps into Greystripe in RiverClan, then Cinderheart gets 'pack pack kill kill', then Fireheart observes Snowkit acting weird, then Bluestar refuses to make new warriors, all in the first five chapters; all these are tied up by the end; vs the newer books were to me, it feels like a whole lot of nothing happens in between each chapter)

Later, I'll end up going back and adding things once I know how the rough outline goes- ie once Flaxstripe ran away from the Clan, I went and added some scenes of him being selfish and self-serving- I think it's best to get the skeleton and then paper mache on the meat of the story. 'Slow' pacing is where nothing happens (ala Stevie King where he drones on and on about advertising or some 'scary' childhood story with no relevance to the plot), as long as you are providing some information- be it plot, character beats, 'a nice break', or some fun. Eg, if a character is walking home, that's not very interesting just describing the path home, think of why you're describing it- are you setting up their home route or have we been here before and could skip it with a brief 'and she went home' mention? Is she daydreaming about the awkward goodbye she just had, or her plans for tomorrow, or marveling over the simple beauty of her walk home?

It depends on what you are going for, but if you start small and go big, it works itself out

#i hope this is somewhat... illuminating #start small and go bigger #if it helps i literally use bullet points #thank you for the ask!#writing advice

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aligatorrageinator · 2 years

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Built a 100% homemade Gamzee Makara cosplay for Halloween this year and I'm happy to report my mother was apparently quite upset I wound up going to the grocery store like this :o)

rip to all the spooky Gamzee fans but I literally could not stop smiling for more than 2 seconds with how well this came out so goofy gumbo is what you get, cry about it.

More details about the process under the break

[please reblog, this shit took me forever to make and so much stress]

The Pants

Thanks to YouTube the pants weren't that hard to figure out, but actually making them was the frustrating part as motivation was hard to come by and goddamn getting all those spots on the pants was a pain in my collective ass. They came out really soft and cozy though so I'm using them as pj pants forever now lamo

The Horns

they went through like 3 different prototypes over 4 months. The first ones were about the length of my forearm and made from model magic. You can probably guess what went wrong with those, they were way too bendy with no internal supports and being that long they were a pain to move in as they knocked into everything. After that I tried making some out of paper mache but those wound up looking cruddy and being heavy as all getout so the final attempt was just the same model magic horns at about half the previous length and they worked amazingly as you can see.

The Shirt

The shirt is just a craft store tshirt with fabric paint so that was no sweat but waiting for the paint to dry and adding all the layers took a non negligible amount of time also I've been staring at @starsnores art waaaaay to much lately so I took some scissors to around the collar bc I like the visual storytelling that Gumboat can't put on his shirts without putting holes through em.

The Wig

It's a spirit halloween wig called 'creepy man' or smth I had to cut it to be much shorter and try my hand at styling curls into it which went much better than I thought it would considering it was my first time, but pro tip: Check what strength of hairspray you're buying apparently there's different strengths ranging from loose hold to basically a stone seal.

Final Thoughts/Extras

if/when I end up putting all this on again I'm deffie using regular facepaint instead of the biblically accurate greasepaint, I don't think it came out any better, and good lord is greasepaint just the worst to have on your face for super long.

overall this taught me alot about cosplaying tolls and I'm looking forward to my next build :oD [probbie either going to be sollux or an oc so look out for that ig]

also fun fact one of my neighbors thought i had weird contacts in [I did not, it was just my eyes]

Enjoy some bonus photos for reading about my suffering <3 [the stuffie's name is Karcrab btw]

#homestuck #cosplay #gamzee makara #Halloween #gamzee #makara #photography #funny #homestuck juggalos

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cortensteeltube · 1 year

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Difference Between ASME & ASTM Materials

The American Society for Materials and Testing develops ASTM material standards, which can include the chemical, mechanical, physical, and electrical properties of a material. Standardization includes both a description of test methods to be used on building materials, as well as dimensions and shapes for these materials. ASTM standards can be required of building materials like concrete before they can be used in construction. ASTM A53 and ASTM A106 are commonly used.

The American Society of Mechanical Engineers sets the ASME standard. ASME material specifications are based on those published by ASTM, AWS, and other recognized national and international standards. In the construction of infrastructures such as bridges, power plant piping, and boilers, ASME standards are legally required. ASME b16.5 is commonly used.

In 1914, the ASME Boiler & Pressure Vessel Code was first published. Materials specifications for ferrous and nonferrous materials were developed jointly by ASME and ASTM. This joint standard did not include filler materials.

It is vital that the metals industry understands the interplay between ASTM and ASME specifications since the risk of supplying, fabricating and/or installing incorrect materials may be extremely high.

There are similarities and differences to discuss, but let’s begin with the most basic concept – suppliers and manufacturers should always follow the designated requirements & specifications invoked for the specific order.

For over a century ASTM and ASME h The ASME accepts ASTM materials with limitations that will perform adequately in boilers or pressure vessels. the materials may reflect this fact with a dual ASTM and ASME specification. This cooperation is often referred to as “joint action”. ASTM creates the material specifications and standard test methods to determine compliance. The ASME accepts ASTM materials with limitations that will perform adequately in boilers or pressure vessels. For example – we don’t make power boilers from copper tubing or paper mache!

You should be aware that while most ASTM and ASME specifications are nearly identical, there are many ASTM materials that cannot be used for ASME code construction.

ASTM A335 and ASME SA-335 Chrome Alloy pipes are examples of similar specifications. For specifications that have been accepted for use by the ASME Committee and are basically the same, it assigns the prefix S followed by the ASTM designation; for example, ASTM A335 and ASME SA-335 are similar.

As long as the material is produced in compliance with both specifications, it may reflect a dual ASTM and ASME specification on the material and on the certification process

Understanding ASTM Code for ASTM Industrial Heaters

The acronym ASTM refers to ASTM International, but it used to stand for American Society for Testing and Materials.

Organization that publishes technical standards on the quality of materials that can be used in the manufacture of various products and equipment, including those built to ASME standards. Standards are developed by committees and often adopted into other codes and made mandatory by other regulations.

ASTM does not enforce the requirements they establish for the various materials, products, systems, and services they regulate.

Ensure that the equipment you are purchasing meets ASTM code standards and is made from high-quality, approved materials.

Click here to know more about is Article: https://cortensteeltube.com/difference-between-asme-astm-materials/

#corten cortensteel steel steelpipe steeltube welding cortensteelplate

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it-be-sid · 2 years

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My King Dedede Figurine process - Part 1

Before I started, I made a mock-up of the anticipated final product out of play-doh. I did this to get an idea of what kind of size and pose I wanted beforehand.

My actual Dedede figurine began life as three rolled up clumps of tin foil. One small ball for his head, one big ball for his belly, and a flattened piece to fill the space between for his neck and chest. The belly ball is about twice the size of the head ball, the same proportion I use when drawing King Dedede by hand.

I shoved two twisted pieces of decorative wire into the bottom of the belly ball for his legs, and hot-glued them in place. I made another long piece of twisted wire as a “spine”, and glued the belly and chest pieces to it to form his basic body armature. I made the spine jut out slightly on the bottom for a tailbone. I bored a hole into the bottom of the head ball, and left some of the spine sticking out so I could attach it later.

After that, I cut down the leg wires to size, and began building up air dry clay on his belly. I made two large clumps for his feet and skewered them onto the leg wires. Once they were hard and rigid, I put clay between the feet and belly for his legs to make them sturdier. Though not shown here, I put a nail on top of the chest piece, where his shoulders would be, and put glue and clay around it. I pulled it out to leave a hole where I could attach his arms.

About the clay real quick: I used Das air dry modeling clay. It’s pretty malleable fresh out of the package, but once it’s been opened, it tends to become pretty solid and hard to use, even if you keep it in a sealable bag, like I did. I took chunks of it from the package and soaked them in water overnight to make the clay easier to sculpt with. I even soaked some so long that it turned into a wet paste, which I brushed onto the figure with a paintbrush to build up mass and sculpt the smaller, more detailed parts of the figurine. Now, back to my process.

While I waited for that to dry, I began making his arms out of more wire, tin foil, and hot glue, again, leaving wire sticking out at the shoulders that I could glue to the armature later. (Didn’t photograph this part. Oops). I bent them into the shape I wanted before beefing them up a little with hot glue so I wouldn’t have to rely on so much clay. The reason I did the arms separately was so I could get the proportions right. Once I was satisfied with them, I glued the exposed wire to the top of the chest piece. When I was satisfied with their basic shape, I glued the exposed wire into the shoulder holes.

For his robe, I took a piece of thicker copper wire and bent it into the appropriate curve. I glue the ends to his shoulders and bend the rest around his body as needed to outline the trim of the robe.

Also, as you can see here, I used a paintbrush to position his hammer-holding arm and sculpted his hand around that so he’d hold the hammer at the right angle.

I used bath tissue and mod podge to paper mache a flat sheet between his back and the wire. When it hardened, I applied more clay on top to smooth out the folds and lumps.

I started building up mass on his chest, arms, legs, and belly with more wet clay, as well as forming the trim of his robe. It was at this point I started working on his head as well. (Bc Dedede’s headless body was starting to creep me out). I molded some wet clay around his head, and formed the beginnings of his beak out of 3 clay balls, which I then carved a mouth into.

I think that’s a good place to leave off for now. Go eat a snack or something, and then click here for part 2!

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ridiasfangirlings · 2 years

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I kinda like the idea of Munakata and Fushimi just doing some elementary science experiments/projects together as a bonding activity, like how little kids would make elephant toothpaste, or volcanoes out of baking soda and vinegar, snow from baking soda and hair conditioner, white flowers turn all colors due to dyed water, building model rockets, growing bacteria in a petri dish, whatever. :D

This would be adorable and I love it. Can you just imagine how excited Munakata would be to try out all these fascinating new experiments, while Fushimi is just getting dragged along in Captain's enthusiasm and watching it all with dead fish eyes (but then imagine he starts getting into it despite himself after all). Like maybe Munakata's niece and nephew participate in a school science fair and they want 'Uncle Reisi' to attend, while there Munakata gets to see all these super amazing science experiments. Of course this being an elementary school science fair it's largely basic kids' stuff like baking soda volcanoes, growing bacteria in a dish, kaleidoscopes made out of chip cans, homemade play dough, all the things that kids usually do in elementary school science class. Except as it happens Munakata himself has never done such things (maybe his school quietly canceled their science fair for a few years until Munakata-kun moved to middle school, they were worried that given the chance he might create a homemade fusion reactor or something scary like that) and now he thinks wouldn't it be fun to bond like we were in school again and do such experiments. He mentions his trip to the alphabet squad and they all reminisce about their own school experiments, Fushimi however just clicks his tongue and says he never bothered with any of that stuff, not noticing how Munakata's glasses suddenly shine in interest.

So then the next day Fushimi is summoned into the common room of the men's dormitory and just imagine him walking in and there's Munakata with a table set up in front of him, Munakata's wearing a lab coat and glasses and rubber gloves and he's got like bubbling beakers of homemade dry ice in front of him and he just looks like a total mad scientist. Fushimi immediately turns around like 'bye' and Munakata calls him back, he's decided that this would be an excellent way for the two of them to bond. Fushimi's like 'no thanks' but Munakata is very insistent, this is part of Fushimi-kun's job as well. Fushimi mutters under his breath 'what part of this is my job' even as he reluctantly returns to where Munakata's standing. Munakata hands him a nice lab coat and some safety goggles (safety first, after all, and Fushimi's just like 'these are experiments for children, Captain'). A couple of the alphabet boys walk by the doorway, see Munakata looking like a children's TV scientist with his gloomy assistant Fushimi, and decide by mutual silent agreement to just keep on walking and pretend they never saw anything.

Munakata starts doing a few experiments and at first Fushimi is totally bored, like he doesn't see why making your own play dough or toothpaste or fake snow is all that interesting. Imagine him slowly getting into it despite himself though, like Munakata decides to do a few 'exploding chemical reaction' experiments that require some precise measuring and Fushimi ends up being at least caught up in it enough that he forgets most of his earlier annoyance. Of course the 'big' experiment is the volcano, Munakata is very excited about his paper mache volcano that he's going to make erupt. He's explaining the science of it all to Fushimi, who's staring at the volcano like he kinda wants to see it explode but also he's getting a sinking feeling about all this. This being Munakata maybe he went a bit overboard, like he knows the ingredients he's supposed to use but that won't make a very realistic volcano and he has a better experiment in mind. This leads to a very loud and messy (but realistic!) explosion, the squad thinks a bomb just went off and they run in to find Munakata standing there with Fushimi behind him and a Blue wall separating them from the volcano that's oozing bubbles and gray sludge and possibly actual lava all over the floor (Munakata assures them that all is under control, which is when Awashima walks in and gives Munakata and Fushimi both a look as she wonders who will be cleaning all this up).

#k project #Talking K #CAPTAIN NO #but also YES #imagine him in a lab coat full scientist #as he excitedly mixes baking soda and flour and food coloring together #filling balloons with water #making things go fizz and pop #he's so delighted by all of it #Fushimi wants to leave but also maybe it's a little interesting #until Awashima makes them all clean up the lava residue anyway

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somerandomdutchfangirl · 3 years

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Hetalia family week day 3: Surprise

My third entry for @hetafamilyweek

There's this Dutch tradition called ‘surpise’. Basically, during the holidays people buy small gifts for each other and put them in a ‘surprise’ based on the other person's interests. For example, someone who's really into drawing can receive a giant pencil made with a PVC tube and paper-mache, with gifts like drawing pencils and markers in it. For more examples, search for ''surprise papier mache''.

You’re not supposed to know who has picked who for the gifts (as you draw lots) and you can also make a poem to go with it. Up until this point, the siblings don't know who had picked who.

Names:

Willem = Netherlands

Femke = Belgium

Laurent = Luxembourg

Translations at the end!

Look, when Willem convinced his siblings to do this with him, he didn’t see a reason for any rules. Which was stupid, because of course his siblings managed to be nuisances even when simply exchanging gifts.

As Willem mourned his now glittery carpet (that stuff will never go away again, he'll probably have to buy a new carpet. He should send Laurent a Tikkie, since it was his gift that had caused this monstrosity in the first place), Femke was busy laughing her ass off. Typical.

''You're buying me a new carpet,'' Willem said when he finally managed to get over the shock that came with a sudden explosion of glitter. How on earth Laurent had managed to build a glitter bomb inside of a tulip made of paper, Willem would never know.

''Aww, don’t be like that, Willy!'' Femke said.

''That's easy for you to say, Fem, this isn’t your carpet.''

''Come on, it’s just glitter-''

''’Just glitter’? Fem, dat klotespul gaat nooit meer uit m'n tapijt!''

''Just open the rest of your gifts, alright? We can worry about the glitter later,'' Laurent said, effectively cutting off the argument that would have started otherwise.

''Fine, fine,'' Willem said, before digging through the quite frankly unreasonable amount of glitter, trying to find his gifts. When he finally found them, he tried to get most of the glitter off the wrapping paper, to no avail. Sighing, he gave up on trying to get the glittery mess under control.

''Come on, open them!'' Laurent said, clearly impatient. Rolling his eyes, Willem opened the nearest present. A sketchbook and some pencils fell out. Letting out an appreciating hum, he moved onto the next gift. This one had some tubes of paint and brushes. It wasn't much, but it was personal and that was what counted. Willem loved it.

''Thanks, broertje,'' he said, ruffling Laurent's hair with a glitter-covered hand. Laurent grinned.

''Alright, me next!'' Femke cheerfully said. She twisted around and got a giant paper dog from behind the couch, closely resembling Pelutze. Laurent was already looking exited as he gingerly took the dog from Femke.

When he had finally figured out where the gifts were hidden (in its belly), Laurent stuck his hand in, exited for the gifts. As soon as he did, however, his face showed nothing but disgust, as he quickly took his hand out.

''Femke, wat ass dat?!'' he screeched, as Femke started laughing. His hand was green and slimy. Willem groaned. Great, slime. Was he the only sane sibling?

The answer turned out to be yes, as Laurent scooped up more of the slime and threw it at Femke, who squealed. In return, she reached over to Willem's tulip and scooped up some glitter that was inside of it. Before he could stop her, she had already thrown the glitter at Laurent.

''Godverdomme, stop-'' was all he could say before the slime hit him in his face. Oh, it was on. Scooping up more of the glitter, trying (and failing) not to get any more of the atrocity on the carpet, he quickly made his way over to Laurent.

''No, wait! Please, have mercy!''

''Hmmm, let me think. No, sorry broetje,'' Willem said, not sounding sorry at all as he dumped the glitter on top of Laurent.

''I'll never get this out of my hair and clothes again, what the fuck Willy!''

''Serves you right, you asshole. First getting glitter on my carpet, then throwing slime at me? The disrespect.''

''Come on, Lau, get on with it! Open your gifts!'' Femke said. Huffing, but smiling, Laurent reached into the slime. A few seconds later, he pulled out a gift. He laid it on the table, which happened to be the nearest flat surface not covered in glitter. Reaching into the slime again, he pulled out several more gifts. He then looked at Femke.

''Was that everything?''

''Why, is it not enough?'' she replied with a teasing smirk. Laurent rolled his eyes.

''No, I just don’t feel like touching any more slime for the next century or so.'' Femke giggled at this.

''Don't worry, that was all!''

''Oh, Gott sei Dank,'' Laurent said as he reached over to the nearest gift, which turned out to be a music note necklace. He immediately clipped it on, before moving to his other gifts. Next up was a card deck, decorated with musicians. Next up was a CD from Laurent's favourite band.

''Femke, where did you get this? This is amazing, merci!''

''No problem, Lau! I'm glad you like the gifts!''

''Like them? I love them!''

Naturally, the two of them were now looking at Willem, impatiently waiting for him to give his surprise to Femke. So, he reached behind him and grabbed the gigantic carton waffle. Femke stared at it in awe, mouth agape.

''I thought you were super busy?! When did you make this?''

''I was. Several all-nighters and glue gun burns where faced to make this, but it was worth it.''

''Ge zijt zot, Willem.''

Willem rolled his eyes. ''Just open it. And before you ask, no, there's no slime or glitter in it.''

Femke seemed to pout at that, but quickly found out where the waffle opened so she could reach her gifts. The waffle was filled with shredded paper to make the gifts a bit harder to find, but at least it wasn't as messy as the glitter or slime.

Femke tried to get out all the gifts at once, but it proved futile when she couldn’t fit all of them through the hole in the waffle. When she did get out all the gifts, she made quick work of opening them.

First, there was a bag of cookie cutters in all shapes and sizes. Then, a Delfts blue egg tray and an apron joined the gifts. Lastly, a notebook came out of its wrapping. It was tattered and had lots of other papers sticking out of its pages, making it appear like a journal of sorts.

''Willy, is this... is this your personal cookbook?''

''One of them, yes.'' Femke stared at him, before tearing up and pulling him in for a hug.

''Thank you, I love it!''

''Uh.. Yeah, no problem, Fem,'' he said, awkwardly patting her on the back. Over her head, he shot Laurent a questioning look, to which his younger brother shrugged. Not very helpful, but whatever.

A few seconds later, Femke stepped back, rubbing at her eyes to make the tears go away. Only to pull Laurent close to her and Willem and drag them into a group hug.

Once they pulled back, Femke smiled.

''Let's get this mess cleaned up, shall we?''

-------------------------

Translations:

Fem, dat klotespul gaat nooit meer uit m'n tapijt! (Dutch) = Fem, that stupid stuff is never getting out of my carpet!

Broertje (Dutch) = little brother

Femke, wat ass dat?! (Luxembourgish) = Femke, what is that?!

Willem, ge zijt zot (Flemish) = Willem, you're crazy

If it wasn't clear, this is who had who:

Willem -> Femke

Femke -> Laurent

Laurent -> Willem

#hetafamilyweek2021 #hetalia #aph benelux #aph netherlands #aph belgium #aph luxembourg #hws benelux #hws netherlands #hws belgium #hws luxembourg #fanfic #fanfiction #somerandomdutchfangirl #somerandomdutchartist

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fanfiction-funtime · 3 years

Note

I have many ideas now

Anastasia x reader kind of a first meeting thing? Like they see each other and feel their heart skip a beat or something and then one just goes up and says hi and then

Conversation😳😳

And then also Anastasia taking the reader to meet the sprites and seeing how wonderful they are with her siblings and just 😳😳😳

Sorry I’m no thoughts only Anastasia rn

Finally getting around to this bestie! The lizards are running at mach three around their rocks.

Slow start I think but when i get to the family part i think it goes well.

And I'm trying to use inclusive options for height and such, you'll know it when you see it. Tell me what you think of it!

_____________________

You had no idea how you had gotten so lucky.

You had been crushing hard on Anastasia from afar, she always carried herself with such distinction and poise, when she walks into a room it's like she owns the place. Her actions, words, even her heavy Schneznayan accent makes her seem like royalty from old books of knightly kings in shining armor.

So when you went up to her, trying to see if you could subtly ask her(read: be painfully obvious in your desperation to be her lover), you expected to be shot down in the same way most people were by her. With the dreaded, "oh you want to be super best friends? Sure!".

You did NOT expect her to literally steam off her skin and turn into a cryosprite.

"I-uh-I would-it be-I-s-sure we can date!" The Sprite barely managed out before fainting into your arms.

(Basically the Story x Anastasia Interaction chain but it ends differently)

And now you're sitting in Wangsheng funeral parlor getting dressed up by Hu Tao who's laughing her ass off.

"You-you fuckin-baHAH! YOU ASKED OUT A FUCKIN GOD'S DAUGHTER? LIKE THAT? AHAHA!"

"Come on Hu, I'm already embarrassed enough here! No need to kill me with it!"

"Well your already dressed for the occasion!"

"HU!"

The you were learning tea ceremony from Zhongli.

"No no, you need to pour it PROPERLY. You know how important this is for Anastasia!"

"Yes sir!"

"...also why do you look like a corpse?"

"Dont ask."

The you were learning how to pour vodka like tea from Venti.

"Look (y/n), even if you don't drink it you have to k no ow how to pour it for her. To my sister, Vodka is far more than just alchohol, it's a means to connect with their best friend. Pour it right, and you'll basically have their heart in your hands."

"This advice doesn't make much sense..."

"Why else do you think I drink dandelion wine?"

"To forget."

"HA! I wish..."

______________________

(If your religion or beliefs prevent you from even touching alchohol)

You also ran into Dainsleif.

"I heard you're going to date Anastasia. She's my best friend's daughter so her happiness is extremely important to me, but since you can't touch alchohol it would be a bit difficult to get the perfect date. So I made you these," he handed you a pair of white and real gloves, "they use magnetism-er-a special scientific force to hold alchohol without physical contact."

"How does that-"

He sighed, "Khaen'rian majiks."

"OH SWEET!"

______________________

And after all that, it was finally time for your date.

Diluc set up a special picnic gazebo out in starsnatched cliff for you two, and Xiangling and Diona were hired to serve you both food.

When you asked Anastasia about why and how such an extravagant date came to be she said that her father had many favors, and even more friends who had favors.

______________________

(Ok I have no idea how to write the date. Imagine it how you want, and send a first date prompt if you want. For now, let's skip to introducing you to the family!)

______________________

"A-are you sure about this, Anastasia?"

"Of course darling," she says, pulling your head onto her (shoulder/chest/stomach/waist depending on your height), "my dad will love you! My siblings even more so!"

She (brushed bangs out of your eyes/straightened your hair/pet your head/carefully fixed a small wrinkle in your head wrapping) then put a symbol on your hand, "just keep one rule in mind: dont ask for Junior's name."

Suddenly you were sucked into Anastasia's fake vision, which turned out to also be a conduit to a serenitea pot dimension!

As you looked around the floating island, taking in the Inazuman themed furnishings, complete with a rock garden and samurai statues! In the center of it all was a grand building that reminded you of a painting of the ancient, pre-Baal era Inazuma capital.

"Amazing isn't it?" Anastasia said as she took your hand, "reminds us all of home. Come on, let me show you the inside!"

Inside you found her family waiting patiently at a table, with one empty seat...

Prick

"Ow!" You responded.

A Dendrodsprite slinkied up your back and on to your shoulder.

"Hmmm, (your blood type), (Teyvat ethnicity), and.....quite familiar with the.....divine..."

"Leafy, sit down. This is an important part of their relationship." Came a commanding voice from behind a paper curtain.

A light shone from behind the curtain causing a cloaked silhouette to appear on it, the silhouette then stood up and walked out from behind the curtain and into the room.

He wore a multicolored cloak going from a hooded and half masked head and extending to just below his knees, and beneath that he wore black colored leather.

"My name is Spritefather, and I do believe you're name is (y/n)." he said.

"Y-yes sir!"

"Oh please no news to be so formal," he says as he tale the seat on the other end of the table from you, in the seat facing him to the door, "call me dad."

______________________

The dinner was going smoothly. You were Introduced to Anastasia's siblings, and they all seemed to like you.

Then Spritefather asked, "so, when can I expect grandkids?"

Anastasia spit out her drink, and you choked a bit on your food.

"FATHER!"

"What? Kids are great!"

______________________

(If your infertile, unwilling, or otherwise can't her pregnant despite having the necessary orgaans. And if your afab then you know about Sprites being able to on get women pregnant without the neccessary organs)

_____________________

"S-sorry sir, but...I'm afraid I can't (get pregnant/get your daughter pregnant). I'm..."

Anastasia speaks up for you. Knowing how uncomfortable you feel about it, "they're (to afraid of pregnancy/infertile/any problem I do not know of that you may have). But they're a great person!"

"Y-yes sir! I may not be able to give you grandkids, but I can give you the happiest-"

"OH SHIT I'M SO SORRY!" Spritefather shouted, crying, "IF I HAD KNOWN I NEVER WOULD HAVE ASKED!"

Spritefather flies towards you and cradles you in his arms, but chances are he's far more afraid of you being upset than you are upset

"It's ok! As long as you make her happy you can date her! And I'm so sorry I made you uncomfortable! You're my lovely child in law and your perfect just as you are!"

He hugged you the entire dinner(unless you asked him to stop).

_____________________

(If your Afab)

"Well, there's a problem there..."

"Is it about you being a woman? If so that's hardly a problem for Sprites."

"I'm-wait what?"

Anastasia chuckled, "yeah...I was going to tell you eventually....see since we can change forms at will, we don't really have such problems..."

_____________________

(If your amab or otherwise have the necessary organs)

"I-welll..M-maybe after we-"

"Father, you know how awkward that is to ask!"

"Oh come on. They already knew it was possible, so you can't tell me you never thought of it-"

"FATHER!"

_____________________

(If you prefer to adopt)

"Well we were thinking, after we get married," you began.

Anastasia held your hand, "we would adopt."

"That's WONDERFUL!" Spritefather shouted in excitement, "so when's the wedding!?"

"FATHER!"

_____________________

I am not quite sure how to continue this. Honestly it's not even my adhd, it's just not really any ideas. It was a bit hard to write for the kids part, as I know reader insert fics are done for self fulfilling fantasies (which is perfectly fine) so I wanted to include scenarios for every type of person I could. And I really hope I didn't leave anyone out.

I hope it was good enough for you story! If you have any extra prompts that'd be great!

(Tagging: @golden-wingseos, @storytravelled)

Also remember, if you want to be tagged just tell me.

#let Hu Tao say FUCK #genshin #genshin impact #genshin oc #oc x reader #genshin impact fanfiction

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buckyhad · 3 years

Text

Tangled (Bucky Barnes x Stark!reader)

I. Kids.

Summary: Since tony met you, he keep you safe in the tower, but Bucky has another idea about that.

A Rapunzel avenger story.

Warnings: mention of death, minor violence, Bucky with a hurt ego.

Word counting: 1,3k

Note: if you see a mispelling let me know. Also if you want to be added to the masterlist tell me or reblog. Lots of love.

Tangled masterlist

"This is the story of how I died." Bucky started narrating. "Don't worry, this is actually a very fun story. And the truth is, it isn't even mine. This is the story of a girl, named (Y/n). And it starts, with the sun. Now, once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens."

He made a dramatic pause.

"Turning into a golden flower.

It had the ability to heal the sick, and injured. Oh, it can make your most desired dream come true too. Remeber that, it's kinda of important."

"There was a lovely couple in a small town, everyone loved them, she was about to have a baby, and she got sick, really, sick. She was running out of time. And that's when people usually start to look for a miracle. Or in this case, a magic golden flower."

"The magic of the golden flower, healed the woman. A healthy baby girl, was born. With beautiful hair. I'll give you a hint. That's (Y/n). To celebrate her birth, the couple launched a flying lantern into the sky. For that one moment, everything was perfect. And then that moment ended." Bucky sighed "Everyone wanted to ask for a wish, so they started to wait outside the little girl's home just to make it, the rumour spread fast and people from everywhere started going to the town." He finished.

My mother became sick again when I was 11, and my dad wasn't my dad anymore, no without her.

I was almost twelve when she died. It was awful.

But not as awful as losing my dad three months after that.

Thats when I met Tony Stark. Bumping into him while crying on the street.

Long story. Short, Tony saved me and was like my father since then.

"save what was lost, bring back what once was mine, what once was mine." I sang while Tony brushed my hair.

"You're gonna make me younger kiddo." Tony he said.

"Sorry dad." I smiled.

After what happened in my home town, I moved to the stark tower. A hidden part.

Tony say that the world was dangerous for someone with my gift.

*8 years later*

Pascal, my cat, hides behind a flower pot.

He was my best friend, a brown cat with big yellow eyes.

I shoved aside the curtains and screamed "HAH! Hmm, Well... I guess Pascal's not hiding out here.".

Pascal chuckles, then I snatches him up with my hair. He shrieks.

"Gotcha!!! That's twenty two for me. How about twenty three, out of forty five?." Pascal shakes his head no, tired of the same game. "Okay, well, what do you want to do?." Pascal points his tail out the window, indicating outside. "Yeah, I don't think so. I like it in here and so do you." Pascal pouts. "Oh, come on Pascal, it's not so bad in there."

"7a.m. the usual morning lineup, starting the chores I sweep 'til the floors all clean. Polish and wax, do laundry and mop and shine up. Sweep again, and by then it's like 7:15. So I'll read a book, or maybe two or three. I'll add a few new paintings to my gallery. I'll play guitar, and knit, and cook and basically. Wonder when will my life, begin. Then after lunch, it's puzzles, and darts and baking. Paper-mache , a bit of ballet, and chess. Pottery, and ventriloquy, candle making. Then I'll stretch, maybe sketch. Take a climb, sew a dress, and I'll re-read the books. If I have time to spare, I'll paint the walls some more, I'm sure there's room somewhere. And then I'll brush, and brush, and brush, and brush my hair. Stuck in the same place I've always been. And I'll keep wondering, and wondering, and wondering... Wondering, just when will my life begin?' ."

Bucky, Sam and Steve were jumping from building to building before stopping on top of one. The biggest one.

"Wow! I could get used to a view like this." Bucky smiled.

"Buck , come on." Steve warned him.

"Hold on Steve. Yep, I'm used to it. Guys, I want a building."

"We do this job, you can buy your own building." Sam laughed at his friend.

Once inside the castle a guard sneezes.

"Oh, hay fever?." Bucky asked.

"Yeah." The guard turns around to see Bucky leaning against the pedestal, with the bracelet in his hand. The guard turns back around. "Huh?." After a second of thinking he realised that sometime was wrong. The guard turns around again and sees Bucky, who is now escaping through the roof. "Wait, what? Hey, wait!."

"Can't you picture me in a castle of my own?" The three men were running of the police now. "I mean, I certainly can. Oh, the things we've seen and it's only eight in the morning. Gentlemen, this is a very big day."

I sighed after a really boring afternoon, waiting for tony to come back with the movies i asked. "This is it. This is a very big day, Pascal. I'm finally going to do it. I'm going to ask him."

"So, dad, earlier I was saying tomorrow’s a pretty big day, and you didn't really respond, So I'm just going to tell you. It's my birthday!"

"No, no, no can't be. I distinctly remember. Your birthday was last year."

"That's the funny thing about birthdays. They're kind of an annual thing. Dad, I'm turning nineteen. And I wanted to ask, what I really want for this birthday. Actually, what I’ve wanted for...quite a few birthdays now, I want to see the lanterns."

"You mean the stars?."

"Tony knew what she means, he was the one who made sure everyday in her birthday were lanterns in the sky" Bucky narrated.

"Excuse me, this is my part of the story."

"Sorry, my bad."

"No, there are this lanterns, and it happen to be in all of my birthdays."

"No, no, it can't be. You can see the stars from here honey, I can even bring you a telescope if you want." I was dissapointed, of course I was, it was my dream!.

"Fine, a telescope." Tony hughed me.

Back in the city the guys, running to their home in the tower, they saw a big drawing of the three.

"No, no no. This is bad, this is very, very bad, This is really bad." Bucky panicked. "They just can't get my nose right."

"Who cares." Sam chuckled.

"Well it's easy for you to say. You guys look amazing," He was truly hurt, how can they made him so ugly and his friends so handsome?. "All right, okay. Give me the keys, and I'll let you in." He panted.

"Give us the satchel first." Steve saw the hurt in his best friend's face after the picture, and with a ruined ego he has to make sure that the plan was finished.

"Wha..? I just... I can't believe, that after all we've been together, you don't trust me. Ouch."

"Now, pretty boy." Sam added.

"Sorry, my hands are full." Bucky smirked showing them the keys in his hand and running to a alley.

"What? BARNES!." Steve screamed. "Dammit! I knew it."

"Gonna kill him." Sam murmured.

"Retrieve that satchel with any force. We got him now, Maximus." Natasha, the captain of the guard told to her horse.

No one knows why she has a horse.

She chases Bucky. "C'mon Barnes, don't make this harder."

"Sorry Nat, our lifes are boring now, had to add a little bit of emotion." He pushed Natasha, and jump on top of Maximus.

"Go! Heyah! Come, fleabag, forward. No. No, stop it. HAH! AHHHHH!" Maximus tried to bite him.

So he jumped. "Catch me creature."

He entered the tower with the animal hot in his heels. "How can a horse get in here, damn Tony." He murmured to himself while going up the stairs, stopping and looking around he frowned. "Where the hell am I".

Bucky wasn't the smartest person in the world,

"Hey! That's rude."

So instead of going back, he opens a door and entered the unknown place.

"Alone at last." He sighed.

"And everything turned black."

Taglist: @gabrielislovegabrielislife

#bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes #the avengers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #flynn rider #tangled #incorrect marvel quotes #avengers incorrect quotes #Spotify

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muertawrites · 4 years

Text

Aphrodite Kallipygos (Zuko x Plus Size Reader) [Modern AU]

Summary: Zuko takes up an art class as part of his therapy and ends up falling in love with a woman who’s a work of art in her own right.

Word Count: 3,500

Disclaimer: There’s a scene in this fic where a couple of thin girls engage in some rude behavior and are criticized in a few none-too-kind words. I want to make it very clear that this scene does not reflect my views of thin people or body positivity - these characters are meant to be a metaphor for greater culture and its strict, unrealistic views of what women should look like.

Author’s Note: I hate rom coms but after writing this fic it dawned on me that I would be excellent at writing them. Also, this one goes out to all my art hoes out there. I geek out pretty hard about art history in this one.

Speaking of which, I reference real-world cultures within the structure of the Avatar universe in this one as well. Something I like to do when I zone out is think about which actual countries would belong to which bending nations; my heritage is primarily from the British Isles, and what with liths like Stonehenge and the hella castles hanging around out there, I think we’d be earth benders - same with cultures like the ancient Egyptians and the Pueblos. I also love the idea of Pacific Islanders who can bend both water and lava, and Incan air benders, and I really wish the idea of global cultures as benders were explored more in the Avatar universe.

Have I mentioned that I’m a massive fucking nerd?

~ Muerta

Zuko never considered himself much of a creative. When he thought about it, he realized that that part of his life had never really been explored; his father always pushed him to focus solely on his bending and combat skills, never allowing even the consideration of other practices or hobbies. As much as Zuko was passionate about the martial arts he'd mastered, he also came to learn that he never had a choice in being passionate about anything else.

“I think you should take an art class,” his therapist suggested. “It would be a good outlet for you, and one that isn't directly influenced by your family.”

“I don't think I've ever drawn anything, though,” Zuko admitted. “I wouldn't be any good.”

“It's not about being good,” his therapist explained, “it's about exploring things that weren't available to you in your youth, freedom of expression. Consider it - there's a shop in this neighborhood that offers classes.”

She handed him a business card adorned with an array of different art styles, from delicate watercolors to bright, bold cartoons; it read, “classes for everything” in a cheerful, clearface font.

Zuko shrugged and pocketed the card. A week later, he was enrolled in a basic studio art course.

He arrived for his first class embarrassingly early, passing under the bell of the shop’s front door twenty minutes before it was scheduled to begin.

The building that housed the shop looked to be older than the rest of the neighborhood around it; the storefront was tiny, with crowded shelves lining each wall and tables and racks wound throughout the center of the space, creating a maze that led to the checkout counter. The room’s ceilings were high, supported by beams in a dark stained wood that matched the floor below. Paper mache sculptures and handmade lanterns hung from the rafters, and the simple, antique plaster walls were decorated with paintings and sketches, likely given by the shop’s clientele. From somewhere in the back, a radio sang folk music, accompanied by the hum of an electric fan.

Zuko wandered through the labyrinthine merchandise displays until he reached the register, where he was met with the single most beautiful sight he may have ever laid eyes on.

You stood behind the counter, leaned over a textbook with a pencil in hand, tapping it back and forth over the pages; you bit your lip in concentration, a few strands of your hair falling loose from the messy knot atop your head and over your cheeks, though you were too focused on your reading to care. An apron bearing the shop’s logo was tied around your waist, emphasizing your body's dramatic curves.

To Zuko, you were gorgeous. He couldn't place what exactly about you allured him; all he knew was that his pulse had quickened to a near dangerous pace.

You looked up at him when you noticed you were no longer alone, flashing him a kind, somewhat distracted smile. He nodded curtly, too nervous to do anything but stare.

“Can I help you?” you greeted him politely.

He cleared his throat, his voice coming out a pitch higher than normal as he spoke.

“I'm here for the art class,” he told you.

You smirked a little, peering down to check the time on your phone.

“It's a little early,” you said. “I was just about to start setting up. You could help me if you want? So you're not so bored while you wait?”

“Yeah,” Zuko mumbled, “yeah, sure.”

You grinned, waving him behind the counter and through a door to the back room. To his surprise, what he expected to be a minuscule stockroom turned out to be a space larger than the actual shop, lined on one wall with massive warehouse windows that poured late afternoon sunlight into the room. Metal shelves and boxes lay haphazardly about, mixed in with a scattering of easels, pottery spinners, canvases, and other art supplies. You directed your guest to a stack of chairs in the corner, instructing him to line them in a half circle in an empty portion of the room while you placed the easels.

“So, do you have a name?” you asked, attempting to make conversation that could drown out the repetitive radio drone.

“Zuko,” he introduced himself.

You stopped what you were doing, fixing him with an awed, slightly amused gape.

“Firelord Zuko?” you wondered.

He blushed, nodding.

“Oh spirits, I'm sorry I didn't bow!” you exclaimed, dropping into a low curtsy. The gesture was mixed with equal parts mirth and genuine respect; Zuko was unsure how to respond, his heart flickering as he watched you.

“I heard you were living somewhere in the city,” you continued after making your own introduction, setting an easel in front of each chair he positioned. “Not into the whole royalty thing?”

Zuko shrugged. He focused on his work, too nervous to look you in the eye.

“Just weird going back there,” he told you. “I don't really want taxpayer money going to making sure I live above my means.”

You leaned against the last chair he set down, smiling warmly at him.

“That's very respectable,” you responded. “Thank you. Y’know, as someone who pays taxes.”

Zuko chuckled softly as you handed him a bin of art supplies, instructing him to set one of each item at every station. He did as he was told, stealing glances at you whenever he was sure you weren’t looking.

“So, uh… do you own this place?” he asked, fumbling over his words.

“Oh, no, this is my professor’s shop,” you replied. “I just work here part time.”

“You’re a student?”

You shook your head.

“Nope. Graduated last year. I work days at the history museum downtown. I also give art history classes here, and help out with the ones Professor Cong teaches.”

“Oh.”

Zuko paused, unsure of what else to say.

“... They teach a different type of history just for art?” he asked after a moment.

You laughed, covering your mouth to muffle the sound and apologizing, giving him a little nod as you collected yourself.

“Yes. Some people even get whole degrees in it,” you giggled. “Not that it’s a useful field to learn anything about.”

Zuko shrugged, trying to shake off the embarrassment of sounding stupid in front of such a cute girl; little did he know, you found the question beyond endearing.

“It sounds important,” he contested. “I’ve been meeting historians from all over the world to correct all the propaganda from the past hundred years. It never occurred to me that I would need different historians for art.”

You smiled at him, meeting him where he stood and handing him one of the sketch pads from your bin. His cheeks pinkened, his eyes darting away from yours as he took it and mumbled a “thank you”.

“I like you, Firelord Zuko,” you decided aloud. “My classes are on Wednesdays. You can come if you want - free of charge.”

Zuko nodded, swallowing heavily as he met your gaze once again.

“Thank you,” he replied. “I appreciate it.”

You laughed a little bit, taking his now empty bin and returning both to their place on a nearby shelf. The shop’s bell rang from beyond the threshold and you went back to the front counter, telling Zuko to take a spot wherever he liked. He sat in the front row; wherever he thought he could be closest to you.

For the next five weeks, Zuko attended not only his studio art class, but your art history class, showing up early to each lesson so he could spend time alone with you. Despite the fact that you invited him to sit in, he paid the fee for the second course, not wanting you to go without the extra pay for your work - he found a doodle of a turtle duck on his seat the next time he showed up, the fuzzy little penciled duckling telling him he was a terrible listener, but thanking him anyway (with a heart scribbled in beside the words).

With your guidance, Zuko learned that there was much more to art than just vibrant colors and pretty decoration. Everything in art, it turned out, had significance, each piece and work holding insight into the people and cultures who created it; you spoke passionately about the art of the Egyptians, who used specific shapes and colors in their imagery to tell stories beyond the written word, about the mysteries of prehistoric structures that revealed how early humanity was much more sophisticated and interconnected than considered at a glance, about the symbols that translated and influenced across centuries to shape how each nation, each culture, portrayed themselves into the modern world. He found himself hanging on every word, falling even more deeply enamored with you with each moment he spent with you.

It didn’t take you long - what with the easy, pleasant conversations you shared before classes - to discover that Zuko lived relatively close to you, only two stops away on the local metro. Knowing this, you often saw each other on the days you weren't at the shop, meeting at the station between each of your respective neighborhoods and having coffee or dinner in one of its many cafes, talking about anything and everything and managing to pass several hours together in what seemed like the blink of an eye. You loved being with Zuko, finding the more you did it, the less you wanted your rendezvous to end; you thought about him all the time, getting all kinds of giddy whenever he crossed your mind.

On one of your extracurricular excursions, you and Zuko wandered around the local high street, marveling at the different streetside vendors and dreamily window shopping behind the glass of the upscale boutiques, doing little more than enjoying each other’s company. It was a hot day, and along your way, Zuko stopped at a coffee stand to get you each something cold to drink.

A pretty young woman in line in front of you eyed you up and down, her gaze flicking from between you and Zuko with disgust. She jabbed her slim, graceful elbow into her equally as flawless friend’s side, whispering something in the other woman’s ear as they both glared at you, sniggering cruelly behind flat stomachs and angular, willowy frames.

You sneered at them, making a point of hooking your arm within Zuko’s and pressing your much wider hip against his, the poison of the encounter sinking into your skin and infecting your thoughts. Zuko noticed your change in demeanor immediately, steering you away from the scene as soon as your drinks were served.

“You okay?” he asked, still holding tight to your arm.

“Fine,” you quipped, biting back tears. “Just a couple of pretty bitches proving how fucking hideous they are on the inside.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Zuko halted, pulling you to the side of the street and out of the way of traffic. He lay a hand on your shoulder, the firm, able grasp of his palm somehow making you feel even worse.

“Someone would really make fun of you?” he wondered, outraged and incredulous. “Why?”

You shook your head, smiling defeatedly as your lower lip quivered.

“People have made fun of me since I was a kid, Zu,” you told him, speaking as if he should’ve just assumed it. “I’m fat. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“So?” Zuko replied. You were so shocked, you physically leaned away from him, raising your eyebrows. “Yeah, you’re fat. That doesn’t mean you’re not pretty. I… I think you’re really pretty. Gorgeous, even. You’re beautiful.”

You blinked at him, taken aback. He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his eyes never once leaving yours.

“... Did I break you?” he tried after a moment, sounding concerned that it was a genuine possibility.

You laughed, shaking your head in feverish disbelief, attempting to clear the confusion that fogged your battered brain.

“No, I just… Nobody’s ever called me pretty and fat before.”

Zuko shrugged.

“Both are true,” he told you. “I like your body. You look like one of those Greek sculptures. Of the goddesses.”

You stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of dishonesty or patronization; all you found looking back at you was the clumsily genuine man you were quickly falling in love with.

“... Have I ever told you about Aphrodite Kallipygos?” you asked.

Zuko shook his head, as confused as you had been a few seconds ago.

“She’s a statue of Venus,” you explained. “She’s got her dress raised up over her backside, and when they found her originally, she didn’t have her head; the guy who restored her sculpted it so that she was looking back at herself, admiring her body. There’s even a whole folktale about a pair of brothers who fell in love with two women because they had, like, beautifully fat asses and the town built a temple dedicated to Venus and her butt. The name literally translates to ‘Aphrodite of the Beautiful Buttocks’.”

Zuko chuckled, raising the hand at your shoulder to cup your cheek.

“See?” he said. “Men have worshiped thick, juicy butts since the dawn of time!”

You laughed, your cheeks turning bright red as you buried your face in your hands, leaning forward to rest your forehead on his chest and further hide yourself.

“Zuko, oh my god,” you breathed. “Promise me you’ll never say that out loud in a public setting ever again, please. You’re the fucking Firelord for Tui’s sake.”

Zuko chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and hugging you tightly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, still grinning. “Made you feel better, though.”

You pulled away from him, affectionately punching him in the shoulder. He laughed, gasping at you in mock reproach before pressing a finger into your side, shocking you with a burst of static electricity; you cackled as you jumped away, sticking your tongue out at him.

Zuko felt a rush of lightheadedness as he watched you, savoring the sound of your laugh and the radiance of your smile. It was then he realized he was in love with you.

The next studio art class focused on model drawing - more specifically, a nude model. Zuko, having been raised in what was arguably the most reserved family in the world, was nervous about the idea of having to sit in front of a stranger for an hour, not only staring at their naked body, but immortalizing it in graphite on a page.

He was mortified when he arrived at the class and found you sitting in the corner, wrapped in nothing but a silk dressing gown.

As you climbed the platform you were meant to model on, your limbs rattled. You began to question your sanity, wondering what you thought you were doing offering to pose for the class, what kind of statement you thought it would make. You faced enough judgement from others about your weight with your clothes on - what the hell did you think they would do when you stood before them completely naked, every bump and crevice on full display for them to gawk at and criticize?

You glanced to the side at Professor Cong, seeking some sort of assurance or comfort from him; he, being the seasoned professional in his mid-sixties that he was, sat reclined in a chair in his Hawaiian shirt and flip flops, scrolling totally undisturbed through Pinterest on his phone. Honestly, you expected no less - his obtuse reactions in the face of the awkward and uncomfortable were basically a superpower.

Taking a deep breath, you untied the knot holding your dressing gown together and let it fall, slipping gracefully from your shoulders and to the floor. You assumed a comfortable, classic pose, purposely facing yourself away from the man whose eyes you could feel searing into your back.

Zuko’s breath hitched as he watched you undress. Though he only saw the full of your body for a moment, he was captivated. The swell of your breasts and curve of your stomach sent him into a dizzy spell, his mouth going dry and his skin heating with a noticeable flush. The rolls of your back, the ripples and divots along your thighs and rump, the stripes etched into your skin like the veins through a granite block, he drank in every part of you, moulding every detail with a focused hand as he sketched. He made note every scar and beauty mark. Once or twice, his mind drifted towards the salacious, imagining how your body would feel beneath his, soft and supple, releasing exalted breaths and enraptured moans, your nails dragging down his back as he drove you closer and closer to infinity…

He inhaled sharply, snapping himself back to his work. You were Venus, Minerva, Diana - a goddess among men. He would gladly spend the rest of his life worshiping you.

The moment the class ended, you gathered your dressing gown and made a beeline for the employee bathroom, getting back into your clothes as quickly as you could physically manage. The experience of nude modeling wasn’t nearly as harrowing as you expected it to be; you actually found it kind of freeing, being able to show yourself to a room full of other people and come out of it unscathed, in fact feeling quite beautiful - what had you nervous was the fact that you’d have to face Zuko immediately after the fact, seeing as you took the train home together after classes. His was the only opinion you cared about, and you wanted nothing more than to convince yourself that he hadn’t judged you as harshly as the self-hatred brainwashed into you made you believe.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Professor Cong stood in front of one of the empty easels in the back, smirking at the drawing the student had left there.

“Your boyfriend left you his piece,” he teased.

You blushed, glaring at him as you approached and snatched the sketch from his hands.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you tried in vain to defend yourself.

Professor Cong just chuckled.

“I’ll believe that when I see evidence to the contrary,” he replied.

You looked down at the paper in your hand and felt the breath drain from your lungs, your heart and stomach soaring into your throat.

Zuko had drawn you in the image of Venus, your body draped in gossamer fabric and your head turned over your shoulder, eyes cast downward and lips slightly parted in a blissful, ethereal expression. In the corner of the page, he’d written “Aphrodite Kallipygos” in his sweeping handsome script, beneath which was his signature and the date. You’d never once seen yourself look so beautiful, let alone in the eyes of someone you loved so fiercely.

You swallowed hard, rolling the drawing and securing it with a hair tie from your bag before exiting the shop through the back, knowing Zuko would be in the alley waiting for you.

“Hey,” he greeted you when you appeared through the storeroom door. “Are you okay? You looked really ner-”

You interrupted him by throwing your arms around his neck, slamming your lips into his in a desirous kiss. It took him less than a second to recover himself from the shock of the action and curl his arms around your waist, pressing his body against yours and lifting you every so slightly off the ground, kissing you just as hard as you kissed him. When you parted, you were breathless, your cheeks fiery red and your lips swollen the color of vermilion. Zuko smiled at you, one side of his mouth curling up slightly higher than the other.

“So you liked it?” he asked.

You laughed, nodding.

“Zuko, I loved it,” you gasped. “I love you. I think I loved you as soon as I met you but that sort of thing is really cliche and stupid to admit.”

Zuko chuckled, raising his hand to your cheek and kissing you again, his lips soft and tender this time around. You sighed happily into his mouth, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the feeling of his body sharing the same space as yours.

“I think I loved you the moment I met you, too,” Zuko confessed, his nose grazing against yours as he pulled away. “But you’re right. That sort of thing is really stupid and cliche.”

You giggled, tugging gently on the collar of his jacket.

“Come on,” you prompted him. “Let’s go back to my apartment. You’ve already seen me naked; we need to make it even.”

Zuko laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leading you out of the alley, his side pressed firmly against yours.

“Fair,” he agreed. “But if you want me to pose for any art, you’ll have to sign some paperwork. I’m still Firelord, you know.”

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pommedelamer · 4 years

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in my heart, you’re sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor

(basically a prosaic yet impassioned lament on childhood and sisterhood that’s oddly specific to me lol)

In those moments when I remember I was not sprung into this world just under six feet with a bookbag pressed to my spine, I always end up in that backyard. The long rows of jagged rocks carved out the grass that glowed navy blue in the moonlight into little islands upon which our limbs thrashed playfully in the night, our outstretched arms unencumbered by the pressing weight of self-image that would come to inhabit itself in us in the coming years. But through the frayed mesh of the trampoline net, even the tomorrows were light years away. Smoke was perpetually ascending from the black grill near the far fence, the remnants of the night’s cookout.

Your backyard at night was a universe of its own, grass taking on its own aroma beneath the dimming sky, air veiled in the euphoria of being alive and being alive with a best friend. It was a realm unlike any fantasy landscape tucked inside my favorite picture books, because, for all its allure and mysticism, it was real. Our days were cast in paper mache and clouded with sidewalk chalk dust, marinating in thick smoke underneath the protective arms of dozens of towering oak trees.

When the glow of your room light teeters on your windowsill and spills onto my driveway late at night (I know you’ve always liked it on, I never got much sleep in your room after all), I wonder if you remember the way you gingerly pressed both your palms to my back, that night on the trampoline together when I became acquainted with the trials and tribulations of the back handspring. I never had much athletic prowess, and you knew it. But the way you floated through time and space on those mornings and evenings made me want to float with you, giddy and weightless, suspended in the years of Dairy Queen and swiveling living room chairs and dance routines we choreographed for our parents (we would always insist that they saw every movement, whirling and panting until your mother exchanged a look with mine that we both couldn’t understand and said that we should be getting home, but we’ll being seeing you very soon and we whined and cried but the promise of a day with one another was enough to quell the sticky partings on our cheeks).

Even now, my footsteps send resounding echoes down our street that whisper of our door-to-door stage makeup business (short-lived and admittedly hasty in its execution, but full of potential to the eleven year old mind), of our August afternoons spent in your kitchen, raiding your cabinets to satisfy our voracious preteen appetites as we chattered on about our first days of school, stuttering through our words that could not possibly align themselves with the speed of the whimsical, giddy prose brewing in our heads. I anticipated the arrival of the cherry-red car in your driveway every afternoon with the attentiveness of a sprinter to a starting gun. Clad in boxy shorts and garish graphic tees, we scrambled to each other’s doorsteps, brimming with lunchtime anecdotes and the newest romantic endeavors of the students of the Dunning and Potter Road Elementary Schools. We set out on afternoon bike rides like intrepid adventurers up Everest and our eyes were dazzled with the prospect of riding the same bus, of yet another home together outside the blissful confines of our street.

And when the school year tapered off into summer, we went with it. The elegant pears and supple oranges in the fruit bowl by my kitchen window became yours, and your little brother’s fleshy hands and the grand piano in your living room became mine (I used to plant my fingers on the keys like they belonged to me). We wiggled our fingers and toes in the metallic haziness of the same vast sunsets, turned cartwheels into the night, and returned to our respective doorsteps barefoot and coated in a plethora of bruises and assuaging films of perspiration. In the winter months, we bundled ourselves in pesky snow pants and bound our necks in thick fleece scarves and exhaled our favorite songs into the frigid air atop your roof. We invented our own language (which bore a suspicious resemblance to pig latin) and curled up on my bedroom floor, our cheeks pressed to the carpet as we spoke of first kisses and first periods and who, between us, would be the first to navigate the tumultuous waters of each (predictions that we scrawled into the pages of my purple lock-bound journal that had really come to be ours, your wide-set handwriting mingling with my scraggly lettering in the margins).

We talked of building tunnels underneath our houses so that when the clock estranged us, the dirt beneath our feet was intertwined. We had the kind of bond that was strong in its subtlety, in the way our days unfolded naturally into nights that revealed themselves under the stars before we could mourn the sun’s loss. In the way we burrowed the balls of our feet into our sneakers and stumbled (silhouetted against the darkening, omnipresent cloak of sky) to my doorstep, sweeping up the unwieldy overnight bag I had not yet unpacked from last time. Then we would swing the front door open again and tear back across your yard, motion sensor lights illuminating the murky way as my parents bade me a distant goodnight through the mesh of my open window. We tiptoed down your hallway, chests heaving as we contained our excitement for the short, creaky stretch so as not to wake your grandmother who slept in the room adjacent to your own. You would arrange your stuffed animals on your bed (Sheepy, the charmingly stout pillow pet, was both of our favorites; I was never allowed to touch him) and we watched our favorite sitcom and devoured your collection of Guinness World Record books until our foreheads ached from all the sensory input and our eyelids pleaded for our bodies to be still. And even then, you chose a sleeping bag over your own bed to accompany me on the floor.

I can only define our time together as a long stretch of nights spent reveling in the sheer joy of the day and the days ahead as my consciousness tiptoed down the nape of my neck and drowned itself in the folds of my red sleeping bag. I wonder how many nights we spent acquiescing to the allure of sleep like this, basking in the enchanting luminescence of your nightlight and curled up beside your bed, your prowling cats slinking around our limp bodies in the dark on impossibly light feet.

There were quiet days, and the silences were a part of us too. But one time, a day apart became a weekend, became a season, and when our paths did converge, I was blinded by all the ways you’d changed (I remember seeing you in the driveway that autumn afternoon under the rustling multicolored canopy of leaves, being struck by how tall you looked next to the impressive group of friends you’d drawn into your orbit after our axes spun out of sync). I felt our childhood slowly ebbing away in the quiet landlines and forgotten party invites (or perhaps they just got lost in the abyss between our houses). The pears in my fruit bowl must have gone sour because you no longer desired to taste them. I’ve long since scrubbed off the residue from where your fingers laced with mine in the driveway, but my clothes are still perpetually damp with it. I want to scrutinize your face for signs, but I’m afraid there is no imprint of me at your core in the way there is one of you at mine, legs criss-crossed on my bedroom floor.

I have no memory of our partings in the same way I have no recollection of our first interactions. One day sixteen years ago you flung your tiny arm across my shoulders and we stumbled through life intertwined, equipped with each other and a single pair of eyes. We never had to ask each other where we came from; we grew up on Friday night concerts on the green, on driveway chalk dust, on linked fingers and takeout in your basement.

We didn’t have the words for all the intricacies and feelings back then, and I’m now just finding them in my throat, gripping on for dear life, and wringing out all the bittersweet juice I can. It’s an unfamiliar taste, but I think that the saccharine sweetness --embittered by the time it pools in my stomach-- is reminiscent of a thank you. A thank you for letting me know you in a way I’ve never known anyone else, or maybe never will again. I don’t dare think that we’ve run our course; it was all too beautiful to be temporary.

My arms are sprawled across your cool countertops, I’m standing silhouetted in the moonlight in your yard, I’m leeching off the smoke ascending from the grill like a parasite traveling through time. You’ll never see this but I’ll never stop trying to hold on, even at bay.

a/n: woah that was 1.5k of nostalgic whining (probably with a few grammatical errors in there as well). no one will read this far but if u did,,,,,,,,, thank you so much & I hope you enjoyed!!!!! I know this is specifically tailored to my own life experiences, but I really really hope it still made an impression on readers. hehhh well yea thanks for reading lol

#writer #writers #writers of tumblr #writblr #written #writing #writeblr #prose #spilled ink #words #wordsoftheday #authors #free write #young writer #angst #im so sorry for this

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dcrbyalbright · 4 years

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YATES UNIVERSITY || TASK 003

BASICS

Full Name: Darby Jane Albright

Meaning of Name: “Deer”. Her parents couldn’t agree on whether to name her Darby or Jane for the first few weeks of her life and her father won so now only her mother calls her Jane when she’s had a few Xanax

Nickname: Darbs

Birth Date: December 11, 1999

Astrological Sign and Details: Saggiterrorist. Tbh it speaks for itself.

Birth Place: A hospital in Manhattan, New York.

Age: 21

Nationality: American

Race: White

Hair Color: Light brown.

Hair Style: Usually wavy and tangled, she frequently forgets to brush it.

Distinct Features of Face: Large blue eyes

Glasses or Contacts: NAh

Eye Color: Light blue

Scars or Distinguishing Marks: White scars on her left knee from when she fell down the stairs on molly and landed on broken glass, more on the palm from where she aught herself

Build or Body Type: Slim, tall.

Height: 5′7

Weight: 114

Speech Patterns: She falls into a vocal fry when she’s drunk but otherwise she has a clear speech pattern

Gestures: Talks with her hands when she’s excited, runs her hand through her hair often

Weakness: Her impulsivity

FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD

Mother: Harriet Albright

Father: Lucas Albright

Mother’s Occupation: Unemployed alcoholic socialite

Father’s Occupation: US Senator for the state of New York

Family Finances: Verrrrrrry very wealthy. Her mother’s family were oil tycoons and Lucas has old money as well.

Birth Order: Middle child

Brothers: James Albright (deceased)

Sisters: Eleanor “Leo” Albright

Other Close Family: Saffie Albright, and her aunt on her mother’s side, Georgina Albright. She’s considered kind of like the eccentric of the family, has never had a job and blows her inheritance away traveling the world and paying for psychics. Darby ran away to Georgina’s apartment frequently as a child and would sit and listen to her stories about shamans while Georgina pounded Negronis.

Best Friend: Anita de Jesus, Syre Salinger, Ellie Aldenkamp.

Other Friends: Drew Upston, Orpheus Rivera

Enemies: Formerly Leo lmao. Saf is on thin ice.

Pets: Her parents never let her have one but freshman year she had a goldfish named Billy Joel that died after a week.

Home Life During Childhood: Uhhhhh TERRIBLE. Her parents never liked her and James was always the family favorite. Darby was the rebellious one, and after her brother died things ust fell apart. Leo left, and suddenly Darby was all on her own to deal with her cold, strict father and her mother’s drug abuse. Darby started popping her mom’s pills during this time and no one even noticed the girl slipping into addiction until she made a drunken toast as a benefit party detailing everyone in the room she had hooked up with. After that, her father just pretended like Darby didn’t exist.

Town or City Name(s) Where They’ve Lived: New York, Amsterdam (briefly, after she took a a semester off)

What Did His, Her or Their Bedroom Look Like: A mix of expensive mid-century modern furniture all chosen carefully by New York’s top interior decorator and sprinkles of her rebellion. Clothes everywhere, her antique dressed paper-mached with magazine clippings, music spilling out of a record player she hauled from the antique collection in their basement. Drugs hidden in various shoes and secret hiding spaces in between books. Towering stacks of novels and literary works.

Any Sports or Clubs: She was on the cheerleading team briefly but got kicked off when she was found doing whippets in hr private school bathroom and nearly got expelled

Favorite Toy or Game: She actually liked Monopoly she’s secretly competitive as hell

Schooling: Private schools that she excelled even though she rarely attended class

Favorite Subject: English

Popular or Loner: Popular

Important Experiences or Events: Her brother’s death, watching her mom’s addiction, Leo leaving her.

Health Problems: A drug addiction that she’s precariously sober from

Religion and beliefs: Raised going to church even though neither her or her father believe in anything but it Looks Good yknow

PERSONAL

Bad Habits: Biting her nails, not brushing her hair, shoplifting things she doesnt need and could pay for

Best Characteristic: Charming

Worst Characteristic: Stubborn

Worst Memory: The day James died in the hospital

Best Memory: Probably running around Central Park playing hide and seek with James and Leo.

Proud of: Her sobriety, her spot as he debate team captain at Yates

Embarrassed by: Her lack of ability to commit to anything, whether that’s a person or sobriety

Driving Style: Erratic, as she never formerly learned how to drive but instead taught herself (NY kids yknow)

Attitude: Pessimistic, nihilistic

Fears: Ending up like her mother

Secrets: The hit and run her and Anita were responsible for, the death she inadvertently caused when she shared bad drugs with her dealer last year.

Regrets: Her tense relationship with her sister all these years

Feels Vulnerable When: She feels out of control, when her past is brought up, when people try to get her to open up

Short Term Goals and Hopes: uhhhh I guess just keep passing her classes? Lmao she’s just trying to graduate

Long Term Goals and Hopes: Can’t picture herself living in five years but if she does she wants to finally write a novel

Sexuality: Pansexual

Day or Night Person: Night person

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert

Optimist or Pessimist: Pessimist

LIKES AND PREFERENCES

Music: Fleetwood Mac, Billy Joel (cheesy ik), Neil Young. Anything her brother used to play for her

Foods: Twizzlers

Drinks: Gin and tonic

Color: Very very very light blue

Jewelry: the vintage rings Georgina brings to her whenever she visits

Greatest Want: No one look at her she just wants to be loved

Greatest Need: Uh to find stability lmao

LIFESTYLE

Favorite Possession: Her record player

Married Before: Nah

Children: NO

Relationship with Family: Tense and critical

Car: Does not have one

Dream Career: Unemployed woman who lounges around all day while men bring her things and she writes occasionally to great fanfare

Love Life: A MESS she keeps falling for people who like someone else someone hold her :/ secretly she always goes for unavailable people

Hobbies: Making “collages”, reading, writing, fucking people from Tinder

Talents or Skills: Uh she can open champagne with a sword??

#listen i deleted like half the questions it was too much lmao #death tw #drugs tw #alcohol tw

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jainnishtha · 4 years

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JULY: FOURTH WEEK

Hello people! This week we continued with our pre-production of DANAV. We have planned to shoot next week, therefore we had to be prepared completely. This week we finalized the locations ( in the school premises), actors, mise-en-scene and started trying animation.

LOCATION

We visited school to finalize the locations we are going to shoot at in our school. The criteria we were wanting the locations to fulfill is - to look like an old school/ a school located in remote area. We decided to shoot in the construction area of the school building, top floor corridor. Other than that, for the “dorm-room” we chose 1 A. Our classrooms do not look like the dorm rooms of an old school, therefore we will have to pay attention to the mise-en-scene of the dorm room shots especially.

For outdoor shots, we decide to shoot in the field, usually cars are parked there. Also, half of the land has crops growing on it. It also has a small hut. The small hut would help us get the feel of remote area.

ACTORS

Amid Covid, our options were very very less. The perk was that even our character requirements were less. I wanted our chosen actors to be extremely skilled as our characters are very complex and dark. We were looking for actors that could portray a range of emotions through their dialogue delivery and expression. It was very difficult to look for actors that would fit the role of Seema Didi and Aditya especially. After a lot of screening we have finalized these actors-

1. CHARVI MEHTA AKA SEEMA DIDI - Charvi is my classmate and an A level student. We finalized her because she will fit the role of Seema didi perfect. She has the potential too create and eerie environment. Plus, she is a great actor, she is a little experienced too as she has played many roles in school annual functions.

2. SAMARVEER DAVE AKA ADITYA- Samarveer is our Cinematographer’s cousin. We did not know if he was a capable actor but then Kushagra sent a short clip of him acting, abd he was AMAZING! Right after watching that clip, we finalized him.

3. HRIDAYA RAJPUROHIT AKA BHUVAN- Hridaya is one of our classmates and an A Level student. We had observed that he has great screen presence. On top, a potential actor. In past school competitions he had seen him perform and we are sure he will be able to bring justice to our character Bhuvan.

4. NARAYAN SHANKAR OHJA AKA DARSH- Narayan bhaiya was our senior, an A Level media studies graduate. I have acted in his team’s production earlier. That time I got to know he too had a knack for acting. Having him on set will be our honor!

5. GARVIT TATIYA AKA YASH- Garvit is our editor’s brother. He looks quite older than his age because of his height. Plus, Yash and Garvit have many common traits, therefore we thought he would be perfect for this role!

MISE-EN-SCENE -

DECOR

For the corridor, we have planned to add some elements like paint boxes. wooden scraps, steel rods etc to make it look like the construction is on hold. Even though the corridor we chose actually has its construction on hold, but on elements of construction were there, all were locked in the rooms.

For the dorm room, we decided not to have beds, only mattresses. This would indirectly show that its a small school. As most of the shots that will be taken in the dorm room are at ground level, we will not decorate the entire room.

PROPS

One major prop that we had to prepare is an eye balls jar. We are going to take a shot of a jar filled with liquid and eye balls rolling on the floor. I already have references from a film “Rocky Handsome”. This is how I made the eye ball jar:-

1. Finding the jar. Due to lockdown, I was not able to go out and get a proper mason jar therefore I had to work with what was available at my home. Now the problem was that, the water was coming out of all the jars while rolling. Finally, i found one jar that did not leak but it had company logo printed on itself. I am thinking we will take care of that while the shoot (will try to angle the jar in a way that the logo wont be visible).

2. Making eye balls out of paper mache. I know these won’t be able to last long as they are made out of paper. Earlier I thought of painting ping pong balls, but they weren't available to me. The shot’s time length is very short, I guess it will work. I have made one extra set of eyes in case the first one doesn't last.

3. Painting and coating. I used sketch pens and pastel pencils to draw and in the end to seal everything, I applied Fevicol all over.

Other than eye balls jar, we had to arrange food, plates and spoons for one of the scenes. We decided to arrange that before shooting the scene. For the scenes where we show all three characters playing in field, we required marbles, sketchbook and crayons.

COSTUMES AND MAKEUP

Costume and makeup are crucial for any film. In ours, we will have to make a 17 year old look like a 45 year old (Charvi Mehta as Seema Didi). With help of costume and makeup we plan on doing this. We have chosen blue and brown color scheme for her costumes, These colors will give her more mature look plus these colors have meanings that will work perfectly with her character. Dark blue- negativity and coldness, ocher yellow/ brown- obsessive and dull. The costume of rest of the characters are casuals, without any visible logos of brands. dull color scheme, simple or no print. Plain dull clothing will further add to our dull setting.

The most important part of makeup, “The missing eye makeup”. We will be taking shots of Aditya without eyes, it will be very difficult to do so. This is very different kind of makeup from what I did for AS Level production. I have started looking online for inspirations and tutorials. The issue is that most of the tutorials require scar-wax, which again like rest of the things, is unavailable to us.

LIGHTING

Lighting will be playing very important role in our production. According to the conventions of psychological thrillers, the lightnings are supposed to be low and dull in order to create eerie atmosphere. We wanted to folow this convention as it is. Our editor suggested we’d use chiaroscuro lighting, we all agreed as it would help create even better mood. I suggested that we could use gelatin paper to add hints of color. We plan on using to colors red and blue. These two colors have very different meanings, but both add to the gloominess and unnatural effect we are looking for.

ANIMATION PRACTICE

We decided to divide the work as far as animation is concerned, Purvi (editor) will be sketching the entire sequence and would fill the base colors for most of the scenes and I would be adding details and enhance the overall appearance. While Purvi practiced sketching, I practiced basic sketching and detailing.

FIRST TRY- I sketched a ball bouncing off the surface. I sketched and colored the ball individually on each frame. Later I added highlight one one area to make the ball look a little three dimensional. I also added a little shadow were the ball contacted the surface. Time taken- one hour.

This is it for this week! Thank you!!

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wallacwest · 5 years

Photo

❌ —————— that might look like SEAN TEALE, but it’s really WALLY WEST/THE FLASH from EARTH-52. our records indicate that they are a TWENTY-NINE year old METAHUMAN using HE pronouns. unlike most HEROES, they are TRYING TO BE A SYMBOL OF HOPE which makes them perfect for THE JUSTICE LEAGUE AND THE TITANS.

basics —

NAME: wallace rudolph west ii

ALIAS: the flash

NICKNAMES: wally, kid flash (formerly), kid lantern (formerly)

AFFILIATION: the justice league, titans, flash family

SPECIES: metahuman

AGE: 29 years old

BIRTHPLACE: keystone city, kansas

CURRENT RESIDENCE: titans tower

OCCUPATION: mechanic for gotham city police department

HEIGHT: 6’0”

WEIGHT: 175 lbs

EYE COLOR: green

HAIR COLOR: red

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

MARITAL STATUS: single

PARENTS: rudolph ‘rudy’ west (father), mary west (mother)

CHILDREN: jai west (son, eight years old), iris ‘irey’ west ii (daughter, eight years old)

RELATIVES: iris west (aunt, legal guardian), barry allen (uncle), charlotte west (aunt), bart allen (second cousin), jenni ognats (second cousin), don allen (cousin), dawn allen (cousin)

BEST FRIENDS: dick grayson, hartley rathaway

origin —

wally west was born to rudolph and mary west in blue valley, nebraska. when he was a kid wally would often dream about becoming the flash. he was the president and only member of the blue valley flash fan club. his parents and his aunt charlotte thought that wally was setting himself up for failure. they would often talk down to him, dampening his dreams in hash ways. his father was manipulative, emotionally abusive, and punched wally on one occasion.

he was hurt that his parents didn’t have faith in him. rudy would often yell at wally, not caring if it was in front of the rest of their family. he did this at west reunion which sent wally running to his room in tears. someone familiar who was thought to be his uncle came up to visit him, encouraging wally not to give up on his dreams. this advise stuck with him in the years to come.

one summer when wally was ten years old his parents asked iris to take her nephew in, and she became his legal guardian from that day forward. wally always viewed his aunt as a best friend, getting more love from living with her for one day than he got in the last ten years with his parents.

she introduced him to barry allen, her boyfriend. barry introduces wally to his idol the flash — it was unknown at the time that barry was the flash. the boy asks him all sorts of questions, one of the major ones being about how he got his powers. it turns out that barry set up a chemical cabinet identical to the setup had been when the weather struck it for him. lightning ended up storming the cabinet, and bathing wally in the same chemicals that created the flash. wally got his abilities in the same way that barry did. after this is when barry told wally his secreted and gave the boy a suit of his own.

he became the first kid flash! wally goes on to become a founding member of the titans.

when wally becomes an adult he takes on the mantle of the flash. he’s the second one to wear the red suit. this is when he realizes that he was faster than his uncle too. he balances his time between the titans and the justice league, able to do the two responsibilities at once.

he has two children, who happen to be twins. they’re eight years old — jai and irey. they’ll be living in the tower with him. they’re also metahumans, being speed force conduits. his daughter uses her connection for speed similarly to what wally does. his son has a different use for the speed force, temporarily growing his muscles to give him superhuman strength.

his best friend is dick grayson who happens to be nightwing ever since they were little kids. wally would do anything for him which is a fact. his other best friend is hartley rathaway also known as pied piper. he’s one of the rogues, but they care about each other a lot. often hartley opens his eyes to circumstances that he wouldn’t have noticed on his own.

powers and abilities —

SPEED FORCE CONDUIT: wally is the fastest of all flashes. he is arguably the fastest person that has ever existed. he is currently fast enough to easily break all the barriers and even enter the speed force. wally has on several occasions — traveled much faster than light and entered and exited the speed force by his own volition. the flash is considered to be one of the most formidable and powerful metahumans on the planet.

SUPERHUMAN SPEED: wally west is by far the fastest being on the planet, according to max mercury he's the fastest man to have ever existed, making him one of the most powerful beings to exist. theoretically, speeds greater than Mach 10, are dangerous to both people and to the environment, but the speed force has shown that if needed, wally can use it to prevent such effects from occurring, hence why he is able to run at speeds much faster than light on the planet earth without it having devastating effects on the planet. he can also run across bodies of water and up the sides of buildings.

he is able to save and carry over half a million people 35 miles away from a nuclear warhead that had already detonated including the ones at ground zero in only .0001 microseconds (10 picoseconds, or 1/100,000,000,000th of 1 second) — a feat that would require moving 13 trillion times the speed of light.

SUPERHUMAN AGILITY: wally's agility, balance, and bodily coordination are heightened to levels greater than any human being. he is able to easily maneuver on falling debris and objects, while moving at super-speed.

SUPERHUMAN STAMINA: wally possesses vast superhuman endurance that is nearly inexhaustible. he was able to run non-stop for over 10 days straight without tiring once.

SUPERHUMAN REFLEXES: his reaction time is enhanced to levels far greater than any normal human being. he is able to easily perceive the movements of other speedsters, and react to danger and events

SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH: he is strong enough to lift 800lbs with no sign of physical strain, even while running with it. he has also been seen single-handedly reconstructing several ruined buildings, and moving heavy beams and girders into place. while rebuilding a bridge in 30 seconds, he carries heavy beams and girders one at a time, during the course of the construction.

AEROKINESIS: sometimes called “air manipulation", this ability represents an individual's ability to manipulate currents of air. by running in a circle at a certain speed, wally is able to create a vortex with a variety of effects.

DECELERATED AGING: along with every speedster that draws from the speed force, the loved ones of the speedsters will gain eternal youth.

DIMENSIONAL TRAVEL: has shown to be able to traverse dimensions with his own powers.

ELECTROKINESIS: wally's body generates large amounts of the electrical energy that he draws from the speed force. this lightning emanates off of him, especially when moving at superhuman speed.

ENERGY CONSTRUCT CREATION: he discovered if he concentrated, the speed force could be used to create solid constructs which he used to compose his costume. the first time he used this ability was to create a solid armor enabling him to run despite having broken legs. his costume itself is a construct molded from the speed force.

ENHANCED MENTAL PROCESS: mental abilities are also increased in speed, simple computations can be done at lightning speeds, and his ability to perform normal feats at increased speeds has allowed him to build hundreds of force field generators in a matter of minutes, move sandbags to cover a beach or search an entire area for something as small as a paper clip. wally can also read at super-speed.

MOLECULAR ACCELERATION: can vibrate his molecular structure at various levels to achieve various effects. if he chooses, wally can excite the molecules of whatever substance he vibrates through to critical mass causing it to explode.

INTANGIBILITY: can vibrate his molecules to achieve an intangible state. while in an intangible state, the flash is immune to any airborne viruses and can breathe regularly. he can also vibrate so fast that light does not reflect off him, rendering him invisible.

PHASING: has always possessed the ability to control his speed and angular momentum at the molecular level, and control his molecular interactions to allow his body to pass through any substance.

SPEED STEAL: able to absorb the speed and/or momentum from anyone or anything.

SPEED FORCE AURA: his body is surrounded by what he calls his “speed force aura". this aura protects him and anyone who is running with him or carried by him, from the effects of using his speed. wally can sync his aura with his children, giving him the ability to pull either of them to him with a thought.

SPEED FORCE EMPATHY: can sense when another speed force conduit is troubled, and can be drawn to the location of that speedster.

SUPERHUMAN DURABILITY: wally's durability is heightened to immense levels. it protects him from injury from high-speed impacts such as punches he delivers and receives from his opponents.

TIME TRAVEL: has shown to be able to traverse time with his own powers, unlike the other speedsters. he can traverse along the time-stream to specific points as they become visible, much like watching a movie in fast forward or reverse. in order to time travel to different periods, he must exceed light speed, which he can easily and instantly do

REGENERATION: accelerating his healing while using the speed force to sustain him, wally could heal from any injury instantly.

HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT.

MULTILINGUALISM: can speak english and french.

MECHANICAL APTITUDE.

TACTICAL ANALYSIS.

#earth:introduction #ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ɢɪғᴛ. [ MUSE ]#abuse mention //

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breathing-gay-blog · 5 years

Text

Suckers & Smokes (Young Carol/You) S1 E11: We Belong

*Slightly Dirty

"Marlon, what the actual fuck?!" I whisper yell, punching the boy hard in his arm. "Ow! What?" He rubs the sore spot. "You fucking told that Danny Zuko motherfucker where I worked?!" I narrow my eyes, feeling my face heat up.

He looks at me with guilty eyes before speaking, "He threatened to beat me up if I didn't." I grab onto the front of his shirt, pulling him so close to me, I can practically smell the fear.

“You should've took that ass whooping, Thomas," I push away against the lockers. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know what else to do. I panicked!"

I clenched my jaw and glare down at the slightly shorter boy. He cowers a bit, bowing his head. "Come near me...ever in your life, I'd kill you," I walk away feeling the urge to hit something. I'd hit him, but I know my grandma would be even more pissed at me than she already is.

I storm down the hall, fuming. I'm pretty sure my face is beet red from anger. I head to my locker, twist my lock a few times, and throw it open. I take out my Chemistry textbook, a spiral notebook, and my drawing notebook.

The school day hasn't even officially started yet and I'm feeling like punching someone. I slam my locker shut, earning a grunt from behind me.

I turn to see that fucking greaser wannabe. "What the fuck do you want, stalker?" I bite. He chuckles, taking out a comb and fixing his stiff hair. This guy is just...ugh. "Before you get anymore agro, I wanted to invite you to a party tonight."

I raise my eyebrow skeptically, "What? No more tryin' to initiate me into the Midnight Dragons?" I humor. He shakes his head, "Nah. My buddy, Joe, is graduating next week and he's throwin' a big blowout."

I chuckle, "What is this, 1976? No one says 'blowout' no more." He rolls his eyes, "Aye, look, are you comin' or not?" I ponder a bit, truly debating if I wanna go to this 'blowout'. "I'll think about it," I finalize.

He nods with a half smile on his face, "Righteous." I chuckle again, "Dude, you sound like my dad trying to be cool." He squints at me and shakes his head in annoyance.

“Just, here," he takes out a small slip of paper from his leather jacket and hands it to me. "It starts at 9, but the real party doesn't start until 10:30," he smirks. I raise an eyebrow at him, "The real party?" He just winks at me and walks away.

I roll my eyes and start for my class. As the asshole said, the seniors graduate next week, which means this is the last week of school for the underclassmen.

Well, I graduate next year, so that's something. Can't wait to leave this shit box behind once and all.

I take a seat in Chemistry, watching as the teacher start collecting textbooks and talking about grading notebooks. I look down at the slip of paper with an address on it.

Hmm, I might go...

I shove the paper in my pocket and let the day drone on.

-----

I step out of the shower area with a cocky grin on my face and a swing in my step. I lean up against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest as I wait for Carol to come out.

She had a little trouble walking straight once we were done. Then again, it's her fault she wanted another round. Which I happily gave her. What can I say? I spoil my crazy ass sweetheart.

I soon hear her shoes echo as she comes out. Her hair was damp and her jumper was halfway buttoned. She carried her towel over her shoulder, her bag under her arm, and her glasses in her hand.

“Denning," I say cheekily. She turns to me with a flushed mixed angry look, "You're a fucking demon." She walks off and I chuckle softly before following her. "You asked for it, Loca. You know I love spoiling you," I bite my lip.

She turns to me briefly before rolling her eyes. I chuckle again, "That looks very familiar." She just keeps walking, seemingly ignoring me. I jog a bit to catch up and walked by her side, grabbing the ends of my towel that's wrapped around my shoulders.

“You can't lie, you enjoyed every second," I say, glancing at her lips as she licks them. She slips her glasses onto her face then glances at me. "I did, but because of you we missed lunch," she say.

I scoff, "Please, you're the one that wanted round two so don't take it out on me." She stops in her tracks and turns to me. "I did not tell you to tease me so bad that I was throbbing beyond belief," she grits.

I raise an eyebrow, "The many times we've done it and you'd expect me to get right to it?" I then step closer to her so that our lips were barely touching. "You know I love building you up so I can tear you down into a mess," I lean in and take her lips between my teeth and tug on it.

“Besides, you did say it was my gift for being clean all this time, did you not?" Her breathing picks up slightly, making me smile and back away from her.

Her flustered expression turns into a glare. "I fucking hate you," I bite my lip and size her up. "Yeah?" She nods, "Yeah, I do." I return her glare, looking around before boldly going into her still open jumper and into her underwear in one swift motion.

She gasps and grips onto my arm, looking into my darkened eyes. "Don't fuck with me, Denning. I ain't afraid to fuck you again right here, right the fuck now. I will make you cum so hard, you'd feel it all week. Understand?"

She bites down hard on her lip, nodding obediently. "Words," I husk. "Y-Yes," she says, barely above a whisper. I rub her a little, making her close her eyes and slowly grind on my hand.

I then pull my hand away, teasingly sucking on my fingers. She watches me carefully, forcibly tearing her gaze from me to fix her clothes.

“Like I said, you're a demon," she pants. I wink at her and saunter off.

That'll calm her down for a bit.

-----

Carol had went to set her code to Machio while I play War with a few other inmates, including Hansen. "Hey, Hernandez got thrown in Ad Seg earlier," she says at the start of the second game.

I look up at her with an indifferent attitude, resting my sucking in my cheek "Yeah? For why?" I ask, dealing cards. "Shanked Peterson," she replies. "Gringa or negrita?"

“The white one. Hit her right in her side like a basic bitch," she laughs. I join in, shaking my head, "Serves her right...fucking with inventory."

“Oh, yeah. How'd you fix that?"

I raise an eyebrow, taking the candy from my mouth, "That's strictly between me and Denning." She nods solemnly, "Sorry, Baby." I look over the table at everyone, "I told Hernandez to get thrown over there in Ad Seg. For fucking with my business."

I glare at them, "That's a slap on the wrist. A warning, because I'm merciful. If Denning was to had been told before me, she'd have 20 more years added to her sentence."

I suddenly feel a pair of hands on my shoulders, already knowing who it is. "Ya damn skippy," she says. I look up at her, watching as she tells a lackey to move so she could sit beside me.

“You playing?" I ask. She shakes her head, "Not in the mood to whoop your ass like you stole somethin'." I laugh, "You've been around me too long. You sound like me."

I put down a King of Hearts, winning the stack, and taking it to my side. I throw down another card, losing that stack and I glance over at Carol. "What did Mach say?" I say, continuing the game.

“I actually talked to Deuce. And he said that a new shipment is coming soon. Maybe next week," she informs. I chuckle under my breath, "Early birthday present." She goes silent and I look at her again.

“Wait," her eyes then widen a bit. "It's almost September," she says quietly so only I could really hear her. I nod slightly, "Yep. Wonder if 21 would feel any different than now?" She shrugs, taking my sucker from my mouth, "I dunno, I've never been."

She puts it in her mouth, making me nudge her. "Culera," I chuckle. "You're a calera," she fails. I chuckle again, shaking my head and winning another stack. I look down at my pile, and I damn near got the entire deck.

“Damn, Baby, you're killing us," Hansen comments." I shrug, "I'm the king of War." I hear Carol scoff beside me so, I turn my head to her.

“You owe me a cherry Blow Pop, Denning," I say, kinda seriously. "You can blow my dick," she says. I cringe a bit, "Too hetero. Too hetero." She chuckles, "I'll buy you grape." I stare at her, "You've known me how long? You know cherry is the only flavor I like."

She groans, "So picky." I continue on with game, soon setting my deck down and call a passing inmate. "Hey, Sawyer, come take my spot," I say, standing up. Carol joins as I start for our bunks.

Instead to going to my own, I flop on Carol's bed and rest my hands behind my head with a sigh. "You okay?" She asks, shutting the door and sitting by my feet. I sit up slightly, "I guess? I mean, a lot of shit is going on right now and I'm stressing the shit out."

She rubs my stomach in small circles, "Baby, calm down." I was almost shocked that she called me that, but then again, she just might be calling be by my nickname. Which kinda discouraged me.

I put my arm over my face, truthfully trying to calm my nerves. I take deep breaths, enjoying the feeling of her rubbing my stomach. Though, she pulls away too soon, making me look up.

I relax when she lays beside me. She takes the sucker out of her mouth and offers it to me. I take it and she drapes her arm over my torso. "It's tiring being la jefa, sabes?" She nods against me.

“Yeah, I know. It'll get easier one day. We'd have the lackeys doing our dirty work while we sit here and listen to ABBA and Michael," she tilts her head up and pecks my neck.

I chuckle, "Sounds amazing."

-----

*more like a long ass filler but it'll b lit

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