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genericpuff · 6 months

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The Extended Mishandling of LO's S3 Midseason Finale Premiere

Alright, so I had mentioned leading up to the release of the newest LO episode that my feelings regarding LO returning were pretty "meh". Not hyped, but not completely back of mind either. Just sort of a weird calm before the storm type feeling that could go either way.

I'm glad I got to have that moment of calmness because good god, this episode was an absolute shitshow. And honestly, I'm not surprised, for several reasons:

Rachel has never been good at maintaining a buffer, even back at the start of the series she only ever had 2-3 episodes ready ahead of her schedule which is NOT an ideal buffer for an originals series.

Rachel has never been good at writing, she's very "draw first write later" and has stated as such in interviews that when she gets 'stuck' on what she's writing, she'll just start drawing and fit the pieces in later.

Four months is NOT enough time to both rest, attend massive conventions, and work on improving a project while also getting buffer episodes ready.

Because of the FP episodes remaining locked over the hiatus, technically Rachel only needed to have ONE episode ready upon return for the newest FP release, not multiple like she'd usually need like in the past during the S2 midseason hiatus or the season finale episodes which would unlock those FP releases like normal - so for all we know, she could have drawn this episode literally last week, especially when the promo material was so last minute. Frankly I think it was REALLY stupid for whoever it was who decided to keep these FP episodes locked (whether it was her or WT, it was more likely WT) but you can read all I have to say about that in my review of the midseason finale episodes.

All that's to say, no, there was never any guarantee Rachel was going to somehow "turn around" the ride we're currently on. I know that many of the critics were hoping for that to happen, but with the circumstances of the hiatus mixed with Rachel's bad habits of putting her best efforts into the procrastination projects that aren't her actual comic (ex. the few original pieces and LO sketches she put out during the hiatus) it just wasn't in the cards. This is where the comic is at and this is where it will remain until it's over.

I want to also point something out about this episode that was... really glaring to me.

As with all of these hiatus returns, LO got priority advertising in the first two banner slots and push notifications AND a popup ad within the app. This is unsurprising, Webtoons is still trying to milk this thing for what it's worth.

I know a lot of people are gonna focus on the art, or the fact that WT is continuing to shill LO, but I wanna point out the part that WT implemented specifically - "NEW SEASON".

This is literally just false. At best I'd like to think some intern just messed up and thought this was a new season, but it's literally not, the episode designation still says "S3". Note that the creators only design the banner art, the actual labels on top are put there by Webtoons.

But at worst, this feels like blatant lying to continue to hide the fact that LO is ending. Mind you, Rachel and Webtoons have still not put out official posts stating that this is the final arc. There is NOTHING from either of them to communicate to the audience that the comic is ending next year. It feels like they're trying to avoid the topic altogether out of fear of losing the fanbase they still have, rather than hyping up the comic's end for those who have stuck around to see how it all wraps up. And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case, considering they're now trying to funnel the fanbase into Penguin/Inklore with new marketing deals and the whole Rachel Smythe Presents thing. They're trying to make this seem like the beginning of something "new" when it's really just a quiet shifting of management (Penguin House).

But all that aside, let's actually get into the episode. It's one episode after 4 months, which is not standard for LO's hiatuses, typically FP episodes release on schedule (meaning free readers start hiatuses 3 weeks after FP readers do), the only time this has been an exception has been with the 2 week breaks because the whole point of those was to build a buffer (which you can't do if you're going ahead and releasing the FP episodes anyways). For extended hiatuses like these, usually free readers still get their FP episodes, but that wasn't the case here. That means Rachel technically only needed one episode ready for the comic's return, and it shows. It really fucking shows.

FROM HERE ON OUT THERE WILL BE FASTPASS SPOILERS REGARDING EPISODE 254. DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED !!!

As per tradition, we get a title that means nothing at all. It just says what we already know.

Our collective husband Zeus is dying, no thanks to the poison cupcake fed to him by Apollo. For those who don't remember, Apollo had tricked Zeus into eating the cupcake by making him believe it was from Hebe. We are fully aware that it was Apollo who poisoned him. Remember that for later in this review.

Right off the bat we're off to a hilarious start, both with a cryptid appearance from Apollo in the background (lmao) who is, for some reason, ALREADY returning to the scene of the crime he just committed because... who knows at this point. Apollo and Psyche know it was Apollo at this point, I might add, but I have no clue why Apollo is actually returning to the scene of the crime when he has no idea Eros and Psyche know.

Moving on from that, can we talk about this hilarious dialogue?

"We have to call a doctor! Let's call Asclepius!"

"No, we can't trust him! Gosh darn it, why are we only bothering to think of ONE doctor in this universe where we've seen more than one doctor?? Guess Zeus is just gonna die! What a horribly contrived situation this is!"

And that's literally how I can best describe most of this episode. Contrived. There is a LOT of manufactured drama in this that makes ZERO sense even on a surface level.

And what do you mean exactly, Eros? "What a terrible system!" Is this supposed to be a joke? Lampshading? We've seen Persephone go to the gynecologist. There are non-god doctors who tend to gods all the time here.

Eros just doesn't seem to be that pressed over this, he sounds like Ned Flanders and that's NOT a good way to open up a scene like this... let alone an episode people have been waiting four months for.

Anyways, after a few pointless reaction panels (again remember I have to cut a lot of what I show here for Tumblr image limitations but I promise you, I'm keeping as much important stuff as I can in this, there's just THAT MUCH filler at this point), Eros and Psyche confront Apollo and he is... good god.

There is... so much to unpack here.

First of all, remember those theories about how Rachel was clearly trying to write Apollo as this "secret twist villain" the whole time but it doesn't work because Apollo is simultaneously written as both a 'conniving villain' and a massive dumbass at the same time?

Well, I finally have a more appropriate term for him. He's your average red pill redditor - someone who thinks he's smarter than everyone else when really all he does is sit on reddit all day using big words incorrectly in arguments he gets himself into with a bunch of equally-air-headed dumbasses.

"You can't possibly understand the nuances of the Olympian political system," Apollo said proudly, a man who had, ironically and obliviously, run for president in a monarchy. The union of kettle and pot is eternal.

He's the Slappable Jerk but instead of it being a painfully hilarious impression, it's just painful and hilarious for all the wrong reasons.

this is so stupid because it's 1.) Eros pointing out how obvious Apollo's plan was, despite Apollo acting smart two seconds ago with a goddess who, mind you, has been a goddess for ten years, and 2.) patricide isn't even intrinsically linked to politics, there's nothing 'political' about a guy trying to kill his dad except in, idk, a monarchy, which again, Apollo has spent ten years trying to rise to power in as a president which is a completely different form of government.

If I wanted to be really granular with this, I'd like to think Apollo is making some kind of point about the critics who call out LO's whack as fuck political system (especially in the trial arc) - as if he's saying "well you're just a stupid reader and this is fantasy where you don't understand exactly what political system we're using, so shut the fuck up you stupid twig" - but I don't think it's meant to be that deep. I think it's just Rachel trying to write a smart character and then failing at it because she, herself, is not a smart writer. And I'm really inclined to believe that more than the theory about this being some kind of meta-narrative about the critics because this entire plotline is contrived and stupid down to its core.

I did not cut anything out here, that's the pacing. Leto literally just appears out of nowhere and uh oh spaghettio's, she has Kassandra! Remember Leto? The character we were led to believe was truly "pulling the strings" until she disappeared from the story completely after she realized that Apollo and Persephone weren't a thing, even going so far as to call out her own son for being a fucking dumbass? Well, she's back and once again she's being involved as some kind of "double agent" in this whole thing, even though we literally haven't seen her since halfway through S2.

"Mm yes, you're so stupid, falling into my trap! Even though you had no reason to remember Kassandra anyways because she's literally a mortal woman you just met and you yourself have committed acts of violence against mortals without a shred of care! I'm so smart! My plan is all coming together!"

We've never seen Apollo do anything except cry and poop his pants, the closest he got to being "powerful" was his attempts to murder Daphne (who he seems to have forgotten about in this "master plan" of his) but ultimately he's literally just a piss ant baby and there's no reason to believe that he could somehow outmatch the God of Love who can literally manipulate people's emotions and states of mind with his arrows. But yeah sure go off, you're so powerful and smart.

The worst part is, I can't even buy this as the narrative trying to be like "see how manipulative and conniving he is?" because it's just silly. We've SEEN this man cry with his victim complex, we've seen him say and do the DUMBEST things that don't lend to any amount of "intelligence" he may have, it comes across less as him being "smart the whole time" and more as him trying to sound smart but ultimately sounding incredibly stupid. And I can't even immerse myself into it and buy that maybe that's the point, because it doesn't feel like the point, it just feels like inconsistent writing, he doesn't feel like a 'threat', he's just monologuing.

Bad art and Apollo literally just repeating what Leto already implied so this is a waste of the audience's time.

This is the funniest panel in the whole episode because I can't tell if Apollo is supposed to be in the background (for some reason, despite him literally being in front of Eros and Psyche two seconds ago) or if he's in the foreground and just REALLY small for some reason. This is so off-putting. And of course, it's just Apollo explaining what we're ALREADY SEEING ONSCREEN.

You see, in addition to this episode being contrived, it also talks down to its audience a LOT by explaining exactly what we're seeing onscreen. It's like Rachel saw the criticisms about her not including enough to depict what's actually going on in her head and so she thought the solution was to spoon feed information over pictures that are already doing the job of explaining what's going on. Rachel really doesn't know how to write and even when she tries to implement changes that reflect criticisms that have been made of her writing, she somehow makes things worse because she completely misses the point of what those criticisms are trying to get across.

Anyways, without even trying to resist (for some reason) Eros and Psyche get sentenced to horny jail.

They're now trapped in a basement that Leto somehow has in her home. How do we know that?

HAHAHA FUNNY LAMPSHADING SO FUNNNYYYYYYY

Leto claims that they shouldn't try to escape because the dungeon is "enchanted", but she doesn't even bother to explain what that means. So they literally don't bother trying. They don't try to call her bluff, they don't try to teleport out of there, they literally just go "well shoot", shrug their shoulders, and accept their fate. Just like with the whole "we can't trust the only doctor we bothered to think of" situation, Eros and Psyche are turning out to be some of the stupidest, lowest-effort characters in this comic who literally can't be bothered to try because that would require too much brain power.

Notice how much time we've spent on this and we haven't gotten back to where the cliffhanger of the last episode left off? Well buckle up because there's still more to cover.

So it turns out Hebe was still inside with her dad, in FULL VIEW of what was going on through glass which is somehow COMPLETELY soundproof, and when Apollo steps inside, she just has no idea what happened. She never bothered to even look outside to see what was going on with Eros and Psyche, she's just been sitting on the floor staring at Zeus' dead face for what was likely several minutes, unless Rachel is seriously trying to convince us that conversation and hostage negotiation from earlier only took 2 seconds. The timeline is such a mess at this point that characters basically freeze in place as soon as they're not the focus of the scene.

Apollo rushes inside, acting shocked over the situation, and when Hebe asks where Eros and Psyche are (again, she could have just looked out the window at any time), he's just like "dur idk they just left lol" which Hebe just... buys, I guess.

That's just Persephone but yellow. She's even missing her beauty mark.

See how Apollo put his hand on Zeus' chest/shoulder by the way?

Apparently, despite Mr. Smarter Than Everyone Else trying to pretend it wasn't him, he's able to discern that Zeus is dying from a toxic and rare poison just from touching him. He doesn't even really seem to use his powers, he just touches him and goes "welp he's dead i guess lol don't bother asking me how I know that".

But oh nooo remember that note from before? Well gasp Apollo's gonna use it to frame Hebe! In front of no one else at all!

Hebe of course says she didn't write it, but Apollo continues to try and frame her anyways, even though, again, there's no one else present here, and so it effectively just becomes the most absurd form of gaslighting I've ever seen.

Again, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE IN THE SCENE. He's just trying to claim she did it to absolutely no one at all, in the hopes of... what exactly? That she'll just take the fall for something she knows she didn't do? That she'll somehow be convinced? It's not like Hebe has the same thing going on as Persephone where she has a 'wrathful dark side' he could pin it on, this is just a criminal who just robbed a building pointing at the first person they see and yelling "YOU DID IT!"

All I'm saying is that Apollo would be really bad at Among Us. He'd be the type of player to kill someone, hit the report button, then claim yellow did it which, even if he DID convince the rest of the team, would still get kicked anyways as soon as yellow was proven through the eject to not be the imp and everyone would go "okay cool so yellow wasn't the imp, that means obviously it's purple self-reporting." It's a trick that doesn't even work anymore because of how old it is. Hebe isn't a child here, she's an 18 year old woman who should be fully capable of raising an eyebrow and wondering why Apollo is this quick to accuse her - almost like he's trying to hide the fact that he did it.

But Hebe can't catch onto this, just like Eros and Psyche, she has to act stupid for the sake of the plot.

At first I thought maybe Rachel was trying to do some "whodunit" scenario, but that doesn't work here because we already know who did it. And while there are stories that exist like that that pull it off (ex. Knives Out) the problem with trying to do this the way Rachel did is that the person being framed has to have this thing called motive. The reason why Knives Out and Glass Onion work so well is because the person who was murdered (or conspired against) is someone who is being targeted by multiple people who could all be the murderer. It's quite literally called out in Glass Onion as a form of smart lampshading. "It's like putting a loaded gun on the table, and turning off the lights."

But it doesn't work here because Hebe does not have motive. If you're going to attempt to frame a murder on someone, it has to be someone who would have reasonable motive to commit that murder, even if they didn't actually commit it.

And who among Zeus' children has motive?

What about the war-mongering bloodthirsty god of war who has been regularly sentenced to time in the Mortal Realm to fight in wars in which he's been regularly injured?

What about the chaos-seeking wrathful goddess who would do it to get revenge on the parental figure who cast her aside, or even just for the fun of saying she did it?

Why try and pin it on Hebe, the doting daughter of Zeus who's only had a collective of maybe 20 panels in the entire comic?

But then I realized... it's not Knives Out, it's the fucking Lion King.

Which is just as contrived - if not more - than the assumption this was gonna be some attempt to frame Hebe. It's not. He's literally just trying to keep her from assuming it was him. He could have just as easily played dumb without calling attention to the note but he intentionally went out of his way to try and be Scar from The Lion King , while completely missing the point of why that scene worked in the original movie.

Scar wasn't trying to 'frame' Simba for Mufasa's murder. He was trying to hide the murder, while also attempting to get the only heir to the throne out of the picture, so he passed the guilt of the death onto Simba - a child who, unlike Hebe, wouldn't have the ability to rationalize or realize his uncle his a scumbag - who then ran away from home because he was too terrified to face his family for what happened, assuming that it was all his fault when it wasn't.

That's not how this is panning out here. Hebe is the now 18 year old daughter of Zeus, and not one of his only children. She doesn't even fit into the whole "sons overthrowing their fathers" prophecy like Aries would. Apollo is literally just being a big idiot here by saying "well I'm gonna give you a headstart to run away, because if you stay, I might hurt you" (which btw, should be MORE of a smoking gun that Apollo did it??)

And again, it's all so contrived so that the plot can move forward. "Well I'm going to frame you for this murder, but y'know, you should just leave, I'm not gonna try and press it further lmao"

Again, Apollo is a fucking idiot here, because he just attempted to frame someone who has NO MOTIVE to harm Zeus, to absolutely NO ONE at all who would side with him, only to let her go which would leave her to question why Apollo would try to accuse and harm her in the first place before considering other options. And through ALL this he claims he's the smart one, which I can't even be bothered to "love to hate" because it's written so poorly.

And really it all comes down to how everyone else behaves in relation to Apollo that makes it so stupid and unbelievable. Apollo, you're not smart just because all the characters around you are intentionally being written to be as stupid and non-confrontation as possible. If you can only write a smart villain by making everyone else stupid, you haven't written a smart villain, you've written a dumbass whose victory only happens due to contrived plot convenience. It's not even done well like in Glass Onion, it's just bad writing, full stop.

And who does he call to report this emergency? The satyr police? His son the doctor?

No.

The media. Literally just "hello, the media?? I need your best journalist here stat!"

I need you to understand, even if he were calling a tabloid magazine like The Weekly Nark, you don't just... call a journalist to report a murder. These are not the actions of someone who's trying to absolve himself of guilt, these are the actions of a complete dumbass trying to get news coverage of his trophy kill who would be better off just playing dumb instead of trying to play smart. Even Walter White wasn't this fucking stupid despite all the times he fell on his own sword, Apollo is literally just instigating suspicion towards himself for no reason at all. He's self-reporting so hard and worst of all, you can't even take any of this seriously because of how corny it is. There's no dramatic tension, no stakes, it's just a bunch of characters performing in a really bad stage play and reducing every conflict to "well I guess Zeus is just dead now because no one's bothering to make an effort to stop Apollo or ask questions lmao"

It's truly the epitome of "this plot wouldn't exist if characters would just talk to each other."

But finally, FINALLY we mention the thing this episode is named after, the transition point to Persephone.

Just like with the midseason finale episode, there's a lot to cover here, so I'm gonna get more into it in a part two post.

That said, you can see already this is the messiest, most contrived bullshit to ever wind up in LO. It's trying so hard to be smart and it just comes across as a bunch of toddlers in the world's worst stage play rendition of Clue. None of what was done here was in any way dramatic or tense, it's just a bunch of characters infodumping shit we already know, trying to set up new plot threads that don't make any sense, and allowing one another to get away with what they're doing because they don't bother to even try.

It's completely manufactured, contrived nonsense. It's not "smart", it's not "so dumb it's brilliant", it's just dumb.

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#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #this is the comic that bought two eisners #uh i mean *won* two eisners #... no wait i had it right the first time lmao

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830poll · 9 months

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(Happy Saturday! Today's housekeeping is rather hefty, so let's get right into it.)

(I'm sick again. Yes, really. For the third time in as many months. And for unrelated reasons. This week's ailment is a perpetual, very sore throat. Not exhausting so much as very annoying so we'll see how my concentration levels hold up.

My work/life balance is getting shifted around next week. That sounds more dramatic than it actually is lol. Point is, I'll either have way more or way less free time soon. Won't know 'til it happens so we'll see how the ol' update schedule goes. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Tumblr is trying very hard to be pre-Musk twitter, and that's messing up the story's archives. Okay, this is the big one. So as you've probably noticed, Tumblr has been going hard on copying Twitter's layout this past year. Some of them - like adding polls - are great news for us! And then you get the changes to the app layout and the toolbar and this tumblr live shit and good lord just stop. What worries me most is the website trying very, very hard to pivot away from custom blog themes. Most links redirect to the in-dash browser, asks can no longer be sent from people who are logged out, and if you try to read a blog without an account it eventually cuts you off and tells you to sign up. For a webcomic - even a silly, informal one like 8.30 Poll - this is very bad. It's impossible to view the story chronologically when on mobile, and posts with polls in them are set in stone so I can't even manually go back and add in links to each update. If custom themes really are getting removed then these problems will extend to desktop as well. In short, I need to find a way to back up or mirror this story. We're not moving sites because we can't. There isn't another platform out there that has all the features necessary to run a story like this (besides maybe /tg/, but I'm not prepared to run this there lol). So instead I ask how I should go about backing this up. A plain .pdf with the text and images? The animations wouldn't work but it'd be easy and accessible. A HTML5 archive (similar to the Ruby Quest ones) would be more time consuming to put together and would be incompatible with screen readers, but would improve the pacing and allow for animations. Either way, we're almost at a hundred updates so if ever there were a time to start thinking about it, it's now. 'Cause the longer I wait the more of a pain it's going to be to maintain if/when tumblr shits itself.

...And that's about it!

Thank you as always for reading, and for your patience. Can you believe this thing's been going for six months now? Wild.

Will see you all on Monday, barring unforeseen bullshit!)

#8.30 commentary

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fixinglitg · 6 months

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BOAT PARTY: IT CAN BE GOOD? Part 1

So Season 3 boat party, the last thing we would see added onto the old all before the game changed apps and started the proper downfall of quality.

I've played through it once before with Aj as my partner, and got back with her in the end. And it felt so unsatisfactory. Were any of the issues resolved? No. Did we really talk about it? No. Did it feel really anticlimactic? Yes.

So I decided I wanted to play it again, after years of not touching it, to see if I could make it good. Which meant not only doing something a little different, but also changing my whole original idea when I remembered that the route I'm doing currently was possible.

So let's get into this! And for once, I'm not even bothering with a disclaimer. Oh and there's multiple parts since I'm probably gonna use more than ten pictures so lmao.

We start off the boat party with the usual questions and all, like who was your partner, did you split the money, are you living together, and what's your job.

And then you do a bit of customisation and pick a name.

Love this bitch.

Then, we get into the scene. It's raining in London, with a bit of a thunderstorm, and we're doing Lottie's personality quiz or something. I actually never read what it is, but I know I got meek mermaid. Whatever that means.

Then Lily enters with dinner, and things are going as good as they can momentarily (Lily was chosen because she's my least favourite LI so I wouldn't really feel much later on). And then, Lily and Gabriella start arguing.

I usually try to avoid conflict, so I go for the last option, but it ends up turning into the first anyways. It doesn't really solve anything anyways, because then the argument gets worse, until Lily leaves and doesn't make a sound for weeks.

Note: if you wanna see someone try and justify the reasons between the LIs conflict and why it's bigger than we think, go to this post by u/melaniekingswife

Then we get Nicky and Elle's text saying how they've got a surprise vacation (not so much a surprise anymore) planned out for them.

Gabe (since I cba to type out Gabriella every time) takes that as an opportunity to enjoy a break from the possible misery she's in, and packs her things. You then choose what swimsuit and fancy/everyday outfit you want before going to the yacht.

Now this part is really vague and all since it's the exact same for everyone's playthroughs, so I'm only really going into it when we get to the main attraction.

Finally, we're greeted by your best friend of the four options (I chose Elle) and you briefly say how things aren't going swimmingly well, but you're interrupted by Nicky saying how we need to get on the boat. Then you'll have three groups of people you can go see, I have no idea how relevant any of them are, so I won't go into that.

Soon enough, Gabe is approached by Nicky and Elle (Nicky shortly leaves again though) and they talk about the issues between Gabe and Lily.

And then we go to the cabin and come face to face with Lily.

During this whole segment, I try and choose the options that agree with her (mostly) since we're on holiday and I don't really have the time for some petty little arguments again. Lily mentions how she's going to find another cabin to sleep in, I say that that's cool, and then we get changed for the health and safety talk.

After that, we talk to Elle about everything properly, before we finally have everything off our chest, and ask how she is instead

Specifically wanted to add this in case no-one realised who I was talking about, currently I cannot for the life of me remember how to spell her name, and neither does my keyboard.

But then Nicky explains how we're going paddle boarding over the intercom, and we quickly switch to that scene.

And the more interesting stuff. See, though this side romance character you choose is the same for everyone (as in it's coded in the same way probably, I actually don't remember) it always feels different when you're with someone you actually like. And that's how the boat party could possibly actually be good. If we don't go back to original LI, and go to this new LI instead.

See most of the arguments at the beginning are pretty silly to turn into something massive. I think it's said that only Tai and Rafi's make sense. And I think that if you're going to have an argument like that? Over dishes? Or not being listened to? Or working out too much? Yeah, no. Any mature person would sit there and talk it out, not argue.

Back to paddle boarding though.

Lily partners up with Iona, slapping Gabe's thought of possibly partnering up out the window, so instead we have to choose another islander. Bill, Tai, and Ciaran aren't an option because they all have a partner (Bill and Miki, and Tai and Ciaran) but I was going with Aj anyways.

I totally wanted to say how much I just wanted her to steal me away instead, BUT I decided that I wanted to be respectful for an episode or two before properly starting the romance.

After a bit of a paddle board tutorial, we then finally get on the actual board itself, have some moments with Aj

Like I said, wanted to keep things respectful for this episode so I chose all the options that were mostly friendly.

Then there's a little moment when Aj says that this is romantic, and that we'd probably rather be with Lily right now.

And I think the best option here is to say "I don't want to compare" because you really shouldn't. Sure, you can take things that you learn from your previous relationships, but you shouldn't be comparing person A with person B. They're someone new, so take it that way.

And I think what Gabe says is correct. We're with Aj right now, we're enjoying ourselves, nothing else should really matter in that moment in time.

Though it's nice how considerate she is.

Then we race Nicky and Elle. I just wanted to add the second screenshot because I find it funny how Gabe looks like she's just came up with a master plan, but it's the most simple thing ever.

Anyways, juicy stuff continues in part 2! Once that's added, I'll link it at the bottom, along with parts following that. This was basically just the base storyline with a little interesting stuff at the end for the people who have never played this.

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simplefelicity · 4 months

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What I sold in 2023

this is the second in a series of posts in which i reflect on my 2023 from a financial perspective, using data from my financial journal.

i sell my secondhand books and clothes and miscellaneous objects online. i'm not a reseller, i do not purchase things to sell them online. this is all just stuff i have laying around the house.

this year i sold 18 books, 8 pieces of clothing and 5 miscellaneous objects. in total, 31 objects left my house AND i earned back 314€. yay!

what was successful

the lesson here is, once again, list everything you can! even stuff you think would never sell! i sold a bag that i wouldn't have paid 1€ for 5€! you never know who is going to scroll past your ad.

also, being on more than one website/app is very important! i am on 3 apps and 1 book-specific website. the most sales came from Vinted, but Vinted doesn't allow to sell everything. my biggest sale (roller skates for 80€) happened on a more local app that's not as well known.

my most successful months were january, october and december, when i sold 5 items each. otherwise, i usually sold 1 or 2 items per month. i don't know why those months in particular were so successful. my guess is that it was a mix of new university books time and gift-giving. i wonder if the pattern will repeat next year as well?

i have finally finished taking pictures of all the clothes i wanted to list. it was such a long process! but i did it!

what didn't work

in the name of being on as many apps as possible, i tried to branch off to Depop. i don't know how it is in other countries, but i only got spam and people trying to get me to click on links. not even 1 real person interacted with me! so i think i'll eliminate my profile and good riddance.

i also ventured on eBay, which is something i've been wanting to try for ages. i only listed 1 item just to see how it worked and it didn't lol. i guess i chose the wrong item and i should try again with something easier to sell. buying something to get a couple of more good reviews would be a good idea as well.

but mostly i need to go on the apps i already use and reupload some of the listings (especially the clothes) to give them more visibility.

plus, there are some listings that i took off for one reason or the other and never put up again because of laziness and that's not conducive to business, let me tell you.

2024 plans

currently, all the things i want to sell are in 2 drawers of my closet. i can't wait to have that space back! so i need to work harder on this payed decluttering.

i'm still proud of myself, because there were times when i thought "why am i doing this? why do i even bother? why don't i just throw everything in the trash and be done with it?" but the numbers speak for themselves, don't you think? and i can finally start to see the light at the end of the tunnel, thank God.

in the new year, i plan to keep experimenting with eBay and consolidate my presence on my current apps. also, i should start taking pictures of my shoes (dread).

#selling secondhand online #declutter #end of year review #end of year

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sapphia · 2 years

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Why is there a D in Fridge but not in Refrigerator?

(This is going somewhere important. Stick with me).

Scrolling through TikTok. I see this. Interesting question. Let's dive in, shall we?

Well, I can see immediately the root 'frig', as in frigid, which I assume means cold. A quick google tells me I'm right, it comes from the latin-rooted word frigerate, meaning 'to make cold'. Re- means to do again, and -or makes the word the doer, so refrigerator literally means 'a thing that makes things cold again'. Beautiful, I love language.

Fridge looks like just a shortened version of that. When spoken aloud (as it initially would have been), it would sound like "fridge", but written 'frig' or 'frige', it wouldn't look right to our english-reading eyes. The 'g' in frig should be hard, and the 'i' in frige looks like it should be pronounced long, like 'eye'. But handily, we already have words that sound like fridge - ridge, bridge, etc. Although refrigerator is missing the d and makes to us sense because it follows the latin-based rules, as a single syllable word these rules wouldn't work. So we take what we've got and spell it how it sounds, based on rhymes. Fridge.

Brilliant. What a satisfying question. Let's take a dive into the 900+ comments on the video and see who else got it right?

I am not joking when I say I scrolled through hundreds of comments before I found anything close to the right answer. The rest were this - wildly incorrect guesses presented as fact, mostly centered around the brand Frigidaire.

And hey. Not everyone is a nerd, and no one is right about things all the time. But the word refrigerator predates Frigidaire, we know this. In fact, Frigidaire was founded by a company called Guardian Refrigeration Company. It's in the second line of their Wikipedia article. It took me all of two seconds to find this info.

But this answer has been absolutely spammed in the comments - there are a few comments that point out the linguistic nature of the issue, but they're literally hundreds of comments in, with no more than one like (at best!) and so entirely lost to the comment section. No one who clicks on the comments looking for the answer to the riddle will see them. They will instead see a million upvoted comments claiming it's to do with Frigidaire.

None of this matters, really. It's some obscure linguistic etymology stuff; an interesting conundrum, and nothing more. It's not important.

But also... it kind of is. Because this is how our information works now. It's through apps like TikTok (and Twitter, and Youtube, and even Tumblr, which aren't really any better) that information spreads. Not just this piece of trivia. A million pieces of trivia. A billion pieces of trivia. Incorrect because someone took a guess and some other people liked their answer and decided it was right. Even though it wasn't.

I can see exactly how it happened. The correct answers, buried in the comments, either weren't made fast enough, or just weren't cool enough. They didn't sound right. They didn't capture people's interest, or they seemed a bit more made up than the Frigidaire explanation, despite them being the actual truth.

So no one liked them, and everyone liked the Frigidaire comments, and now anyone who quickly checks the comments can very reasonably assume there is a consensus on Frigidaire being the origin of the word. A bunch of people took a wild guess at something they didn't know, and didn't bother to google their answer. They posted something they thought probably happened, and the rest of TikTok liked it and upvoted it and legitimised it, so now anyone who sees this video will come away with the wrong information. And repeat ad infinitum for every video ever.

There's a lot of factors that contribute to this issue, most of which I have neither the knowledge or capability to address. The lack of human moderation, the inability to downvote, the instantaneous nature of platforms and their short-form content that leaves no room for discussion or pause to debate and verify. Responses that get lost in seas of comments, doomed never to be seen if they weren't made early and pithy. The many shortfalls of 2020s social media is an essay in itself.

But this, if anything, shows the important of fact checking. This isn't a problem because people were wrong - this is a problem because the platform has no effective mechanism to facilitate debate/disagreement or check that things being said are correct. And this is an issue because people are not fact-checking themselves, or each other. Frigidaire doesn't even have a D before the G - it doesn't make sense for that to be the origin. But people swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker, because it fit their preconceived (American) notions of how words work.

Question things. If you see statements with blanket assertions that no one has challenged - you're the challenger now. Google it. Verify it. Post a question or a request for clarification, just to see what the original commenter really knows. Do it for stupid things, like the origins of the word "Fridge" - not because it's important, but because it's a good habit to get into, and because, in the grand scheme of things, this stuff does matter. It does matter that truth and accuracy and facts are valued above things we feel might be true, or things that seem true.

But also, definitely do it for the important stuff too. Because when things get bigger than this - that's how you get Trump. That's how you get antivaxxers. Misinformation is perhaps THE biggest threat we face today. We can all think of terrible things that have happened because people were told things that might be true but weren't.

Those are the big ones. But it starts small. It starts here. In the replies on youtube comments, in the downvotes on reddit, in the reblogs on tumblr. It starts with every single one of us.

#I've definitely reblogged things i've found out later weren't true #and tumblr is no gem; the reblog and reply system doesn't work to correct misinformation either. tumblr is the OG no-downvote site #but it's not about succeeding #its about trying #and being dilligent #misinformation #tiktok #politics #long post

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onlylaboum · 2 years

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To be honest, I usually don't reblog your posts BECAUSE of the passive-aggressive tone you often use. It's just kpop. I like Laboum but it won't end my life if they're not world famous. I just want to enjoy music and stages and all their content happily, not create a second job for myself as their unseen manager. It's okay if that's how you stan and have fun but it's not for me.

I'm worried you'll answer this really angrily but I saw your recent post and wanted to let you know how some people might be feeling. I'll still be following for updates and gifsets and stuff! 💜

people were (also barely) liking instead of sharing my posts also before i expressed my frustration w this stuff so idt that's the issue.

on twitter i'm much more active nowadays bc at least there there's a few more active latte, but still very few compared to even other nugu groups that have similar numbers in streams.

i never said i liked spending so much time on LABOUM. i am aware i have an internet addiction and have been hyperfixating on the group to avoid stressing out about worse things in my daily life.

not just me but also other latte i talk to on twitter and tiktok are really fucking burned out from how much we try to do. i don't think being a stan should be a day job. i sure would love if people shared shit we post though instead of keep scrolling or give a like once a month, which does virtually nothing. we wouldn't have to stress out so much if people actually engaged with things we did. we try to encourage ppl to use apps to win youtube ads for Laboum (which worked but slowly, it's how we made Kiss Kiss finally reach 1 million views), we ask people to give feedback, to maybe watch a video or play a streaming playlist, or partake in a game, or to buy an album or share an MV with friends.

the way that a lot of people don't do that sht, the way that in MONTHS no new people have followed their twitter or youtube, the way that barely anyone talks about them online, does in fact signify that people don't care about Laboum. not everyone needs to be an active social media user or anything ofc, but this degree of lack of attention? unless when it's about a disbandment prediction, joking about the girls' horrible experiences at their expense, or fake interest in the group only on certain conditions, shit doesn't get attention.

the girls had viral tiktok videos a bunch of times, but the majority of the people watching have no fucking clue who they are or that they aren't just actors, and it's just me and 1 other Latte trying to respond to tired comments calling the members by names of characters they played, or "ZN" which is Jinyea's old stage name. if ONLY there were a few more Latte who would leave a comment or two for once as well, the few of us wouldn't have to deal with trying to inform the general public abt Laboum.

people not sharing shit abt LABOUM is one of the main reasons why so may ppl now think they disbanded, and why you see a bunch of kpop fans who claim they're a fan of LABOUM but have been out of the loop w them for 3-6 years. it doesn't help that their domestic fanbase consists of mainly loser incels who don't dare to fucking talk about the group unless when being petty about Yulhee or creepy about their bodies.

and i know tumblr kpop fans LOVE only looking at stupid fucking gifs and not clicking on the videos they're from, acting as if streaming is a fucking punishment from hell instead of just playing a fucking song or playlist you like in the background, and acting as if it's a shocker when groups aren't doing well when so fucking few people who pretend to be a fan actually listen to music or read or watch anything new or buy music. considering your purple heart use, you should KNOW how supporting musicians works. as much as i hate the competitiveness and commodity in the music industry, likes alone never helped artists.

so yeah i'm passive-aggressive bc im trying to fucking encourage people to do something more than say they like Laboum but never dare to mention their name nor recommend a song nor share anything about them. i wouldnt be so fucking frustrated if i saw some more hype aside from from clickbait content and gg stans who just namedrop them for edgy crappy jokes.

Laboum don't need to be world famous and i don't think they will be per se, but they are really unknown. unless people do something more than just quietly listen to them once every blue moon and don't engage in anything Latte are asking or encouraging people to do, they will remain as extremely unknown as right now and disband when their contracts end in summer 2023.

other Latte are feeling the same frustrations as i do and feel exhausted. anyone who knows Laboum's story and the international, knows how small it is and how frustrated we are. this shouldn't be a surprise if you've talked to any Latte. i am familiar with how reserved fans are in this fandom. when trying to set up projects before for their anniversaries, it ended with me and only 1 other Latte in a skype call, no communication from the rest, and them not daring to partake any projects or plans anymore. that felt really disappointing.

so no, i don't find fun in being so stressed and active in trying to promote LABOUM to such an extent bc me and a few others are trying to do work for multiple ppl and for free at that. but all we ask is basic stuff like 'please also share posts' or 'hey check out and share this new song cover'. it's already ridicilous i have to ask ppl to share posts bc they refuse to, whether i ask or not.

if that's too much work, are people really interested in the group???? the thing is also that if other people, at least a few more, do a little more than nothing, it would actually make more people discover the group on their own socials, become fans, and partake in fandom. we wouldn't be so burned out if there were more than like 5-20 accounts trying to do so much bc no one else will. e.g. we emailed the company to demand translators and it hired one, but then barely anyone watched LABOUM's newer youtube videos and so that was kind of abandoned too. no views or attention = a sign that people aren't interested = no new content. that's how it works.

#i can be as passive aggressive as i want when i see LABOUM being shit-talked for over 5 years #and mismanaged poorly and waste time on this garbage website to make posts that no one bothers showing to their followers #like if this doesnt reach new fans then what am i doing it for?#2 or 3 people who sort of like their songs and some gifs but no content and are too embarrassed to share laboum stuff?#you can continue to not share posts as you want just like people didnt BEFORE i ever complained abt it #you can also unfollow idk #i need sleep and im annoyed w how many fcking words it took me to write this. its prob very repetitive #im not good at making gifs and it's a hassle so thanks i guess but i dont want to be a gif maker #asks #anon

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olihania · 11 months

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Hello! Hope you have been well!

Who does not know Instagram- hands up!

I wouldn't see any probably as this platform became so popular in the last few years that in many ways beats the popularity of other social media platforms. Instagram is more cool, jazzy, trendy.

Do you use Instagram? First of all what is Instagram? Well, it is a free photo and video sharing app available on iPhone and Android. It is free to use. By uploading photos or videos you can share these with your friends, people can upload photos or videos to this service and share them with followers. They can also view, comment and like posts shared by their friends on Instagram.

Main features of the IG platform are: creation of collection of saved posts, creation of stories highlights to show stories for longer than a day, schedule posts in advance, messaging, commenting, tagging other profiles or followers,there is also an option to live-streaming for those who like to share what they've been up to.

What is good about Instagram?Well, there are a few things such as:Instagram boasts an easy-to-use interface,boasts a range of interesting filters,content is more engaging than other platforms, hashtags are more influential, ads are more attractive and less intrusive. I am sure, there is more good things about IG, please share them in the comment section!

To balance it out, I must mention some "bad "things about Instagram such as: you can bee tagged by a stranger in the comments, psychological impact on young girls regarding their looks, body shaming, algorithm change. ... comment section algorithm, slow loading, "Couldn't Load Media"option. Let me know in a comment section what are the "bad" things about IG in your opinion. Share your thoughts, suggestions or ideas!

IG being called the "most invasive app" for a reason. The study found that Instagram collects 79 per cent of its users' personal data and shares it with third parties, including search history, location, contacts and financial info. “Any information you agree to be gathered by an app when signing up can be analysed for their benefit and even shared." That sound a bit scary and actually it is. Wonder how many people have this app on their phone. Must admit , that I am not one of them.

In my industry (events), Instagram can be used for sharing info about events, hash-tagging stakeholders, guest speakers etc,, general promotion of the event.

I have advertised our college event on the Instagram and will do it again when the opportunity arises.

As of now, I have to go an live my life away from my laptop.

Till the next reading!

#events #social media #edinburghcollagecollective #blog

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candy-and-writing · 3 years

Text

What A Triple Lutz Can Do

part iii

Dark! Bucky x Ice Skater! Reader x Dark! Steve

Summary: Steve and Bucky have found each other again, after everything they’ve been through. When Steve meets you at the Winter Olympics, he decides you’re the perfect little doll for their plan.

General Warnings: non con/dub con, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, male masturbation, pet names—kitten, princess, ie; oral sex (female and male), fingering, (forced?) poly relationship (m/m/f), somnophilia, light bondage, more to be added as the story goes on

Chapter Warnings: non consensual touching and kissing, non consensual drugging, mean! Steeb, soft bois, stucky fluff

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Part Two // Part Four

Masterlist

It took you fifteen minutes to gather the courage to take a shower. Another ten to undress. You hated how exposed you felt, how at any moment Captain Rogers or Sergeant Barnes could walk in and see you naked.

The shampoo smelled heavenly, and as you dried your hair you marveled at how soft it was, how the scent lingered in your hair.

You clutched the towel to your body as you rummaged through the dresser drawers, searching for the least provocative set of underwear. You settled on a pair of lacy briefs that showed more of your ass than you initially thought and a matching bra.

You sorted through the wardrobe five different times, trying to find something to wear. Should you wear a dress? Did they want you to dress up? God, why were you complying with them?

You decided on a white sleeveless dress with a pink floral pattern and a flattering neckline. You paired it with a light pink cardigan, pulling the sleeves down past your wrists.

Looking in the bathroom mirror, you find what you need to style your hair, applying a quick layer of mascara to your lashes. While contemplating whether or not to put on some lip gloss, you grabbed the Chanel perfume bottle, examining it carefully before spritzing a little on your neck. It smelled like jasmine and roses. You liked it.

You shouldn't like it.

You're looking through the extensive makeup collection when you hear the door unlock. You turn your head and watch Bucky close the door behind him, balancing a tray with three plates of food in one hand. He spots you in the bathroom and his jaw drops.

"Wow, doll, you look—you look amazing."

You give him a timid smile and watch as he moves out of sight. You follow him to the threshold of the second room, the one you hadn't yet looked in. A small dining table sat in the middle of the room, with an absolutely gorgeous diamond chandelier hanging above the table. A large bookcase filled with books lined the wall. Skimming the titles, you realized that most of them were books that you had at home—or at the very least the same authors. Some were books you've never heard of before, a few were ones you've always wanted to read. Others were older, classics like the Oz series by L. Frank Baum and the Lord of the Rings series. Books that Steve and Bucky would have read in their childhoods.

"That was Steve's idea," Bucky says, walking up to you after he set the plates down on the table. "Wanted to get you something a little more personal."

You hummed in response, not knowing what else to say. Were you supposed to thank them? For what, for kidnapping you? For buying you expensive luxuries you didn't want?

Bucky hooked his finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"You look absolutely stunning in this dress, doll," he murmured, his voice low. You swallowed before finding your voice.

"It's just a dress. . . ."

His eyes were gorgeous. Tantalizing blue-grey like the sky at the first signs of a storm. You found yourself lost in them, at the little specks of a deeper blue, of green. You didn't realize he was closing in on you until his lips touched yours.

He smirked against your lips as you squeaked in surprise, your shoulders tensing as your hands flew to his chest to push him away. You felt like you were pushing against a brick wall; the solid mass of muscle beneath your palms wouldn't budge. When Bucky seemingly got tired of your resistance, he gathered your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them to your chest.

He moaned against your mouth, coaxing your lips apart as he dipped his tongue in. You stayed frozen in your spot, letting his tongue roam within your mouth. His hand trailed down to your breast, squeezing softly as you whimpered. His lips moved to the corner of your mouth, then to your jawline, kissing and sucking his way down your neck.

"You're wearing the perfume," Bucky commented, murmuring against your skin. "Do you like it? It reminded us of something women would wear back in our day. Something that fits you."

You shut your eyes, biting back a whimper as he nibbled on your neck. He intertwined his fingers with yours, pinning your hands flat against the wall and he suckled at your pulse point. You let out a weak mewl as he licked over the dark mark he created, his knee pushing against the apex between your thighs.

"Bucky asked you a question, sweetheart," Steve said suddenly, standing in the threshold, holding a bottle of wine by the neck and three glasses by their stems. Your eyes go wide at the sight of him and you try to push Bucky away, but he doesn't budge.

"When one of us asks you a question, you answer it." Stave's voice was surprisingly stern, sending a shudder down your spine.

It took you a moment to gather your voice. "Yes. . . it smells very nice." If either of them heard how shaky your voice was, they didn't acknowledge it. Steve hummed, setting the wine down on the table.

"Buck, dinner's ready."

"Mmm, I got dinner right here," he mumbled. Bucky grabbed your hips and pulled you down on his knee, grinding your core against him. You yelped, pushing against his chest in desperation.

"Bucky."

Bucky grumbled in response, fingers digging into the divot of your hips as he licked a stripe up your neck before finally relenting.

Your knees were shaking so much you could barely keep yourself upright, your hands plastered against the wall for support. Mascara streamed down your cheeks as Bucky held his hand out to you.

"C'mon, doll, let's eat."

Steve pulled out a chair for you, Bucky guiding you to sit down. Steve wiped your stained cheeks with a napkin, shushing you as you whimpered.

"Buck and I made your favorite, sweetheart," Steve beamed. "Fettuccine Alfredo with broccoli. We even got a bottle of Cabernet to share."

You nodded, mumbled a small 'thank you', and let Steve set your plate in front of you.

"Eat up, sweetie."

You were allowed one glass of wine during dinner, which was barely filled a third of the way up. You wanted to drink from the entire goddamn bottle—it seemed appropriate, considering the circumstances.

The fettuccine was good, admittedly, which made you sick to your stomach. You weren't very hungry, you had hardly taken four bites of your pasta, and Steve and Bucky had noticed.

"What's the matter, doll?" Bucky asked. "Do you not like it?"

"No!" you rushed. "No, it—dinner's wonderful. . . I'm just not very hungry."

"You haven't eaten all day, sweetheart," Steve chided. "And you didn't have very much to eat yesterday, are you feeling okay?"

You scoffed at that. "Other than the fact that a couple of psychotic superheroes have kidnapped me?" you muttered. "Oh, yeah, I'm great."

"Watch the attitude," Steve warned. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at your uneaten food.

"Steve." Bucky looked at his friend, giving him the puppy eyes he couldn't ignore. "Give her a break."

Steve sighed. "If you really don't want to eat, fine, we'll go over the rules instead. Buck, you mind cleaning up?"

Bucky downed his wine, sighing as he and Steve stood. You were hesitant to follow, but when Steve held out his hand for you to take, you realized you didn't have much of a choice. He threaded his fingers in yours, guiding you back to the bed.

"Sit," he told you. You took a seat on the edge of the bed, Steve standing in front of you. "Good girl."

You couldn't stop the involuntary shudder that ran down your spine at the pet name. Steve smirked at your reaction.

"We're going to go over the rules, okay? There aren't many." He waited until you nodded to continue. "First off: We won't tolerate disobedience. You'll do as you're told when you're told, and you'll drop the backtalk. Got it?"

You couldn't understand the fear that settled in your gut. You should be angry—furious—at him for trying to control you, but you were just unbelievably scared. They held all the power here. You were helpless.

"Second rule," Steve growled, "you answer when Bucky or I talk to you."

"Okay," you forced out. Steve's expression relaxed a little.

"Good. Until you can show Bucky and me that you're ready to move upstairs with us, you'll stay down here. We bought you some books already, but if you want anything else to keep you entertained, just tell us. We'll get you anything you want, within reason. And you can make as much noise as you want down here—we soundproofed it. Doesn't mean you won't get punished for causing a ruckus, though."

Your lower lip wobbled a little as you responded with, "I understand."

"You will treat us with respect. You'll use your manners, you'll be sweet. You will accept what we give you, and you'll do as you're told when you're told.

"You disobey us, you will be punished. And trust me, Bucky and I can get pretty creative when we want to be. Your attitude at the dinner table was your only warning."

"I understand," you said quietly. "I'm sorry."

The apology slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

"Buck and I will do everything we can to make you happy and comfortable. That's our job, sweetheart, to make you happy." He gently cupped your cheek, his hand so warm you had to stop yourself from leaning into his touch. "You already make us so happy, we just want to return the favor."

You frowned at that, confused. Steve could see the wheels turning in your head, an amused smile on his face.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, princess?"

"Why am I here?" you asked carefully, your shoulders tense as you avoided his gaze. "I just—I don't understand."

Steve sighed, squatting down so he was level with you. "Because, sweetheart, we need you. You are perfect for us, baby, I knew that the moment I first saw you on the ice. The way you danced was so—so beautiful, you know? Like you were walking on water. I saw the way you seemed to relax, like every burden was being lifted off your shoulders. It's the only time you've seemed truly free. You're always so busy, sweetheart; between classes and practice, when do you have time for yourself? You're gonna work yourself to death, baby. We can help you, we can make you happy. I know you don't understand right now, but we are what you need.

"And you'll make us happy. We want you with us, want you in our relationship. We love you, sweetheart, we just want to show you that we love you."

You didn't realize you were crying until Steve brushed his thumb against your cheek to wipe away a tear.

"I know it's a lot, baby, but it's the truth. We're gonna take care of you, princess. You'll be safe here."

Your hands shook as you folded them in your lap, wringing your dress through your fingers. The fearful pout on your face had Steve trying to stop a smile. The crease between your brows was just too cute.

"But—I was happy," you sniffled. "I love skating, I love dancing. . . I was going to graduate in the spring. You're taking my life away, why can't you see that?"

"We know it's tough, doll," Bucky said, leaning against the threshold, his arms crossed against his chest. "We know it'll take some time for you to acclimate to your new life, but if you're patient with us, we'll be patient with you."

"No. You don't understand—" Your fear was quickly dissipating into anger. They weren't listening to you, they weren't going to listen. "I don't want to be here. You say you care about me? That you want to make me happy? Then let me go, please."

Steve sighed, looking back towards Bucky. His gaze turned hard as he looked back at you. "You're staying with us. We'll talk about some things we can get you to keep you from growing bored."

Your face fell at his comment.

"My ma used to cross-stitch," Bucky commented. "I would watch her and my sister go at it for hours. I'm sure it isn't too hard to figure out."

"Or knitting?" Steve piped. "You ever knit, sweetheart?"

You shook your head after a moment, appalled that they were having this conversation so nonchalantly. Rage radiated within you, angry tears threatening to spill past your lashes as you dug your nails into the palms of your hands.

"There anything you like to do, princess?" Steve asked.

You shrugged simply, looking down at your hands. Steve frowned, opening his mouth to speak when Bucky stopped him, resting his hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, doll, think about it for a bit." He gave you a small smile before giving Steve an exasperated look. "Stevie and I'll take the dishes upstairs, why don't you go ahead and get ready for bed?"

You swallowed thickly, nodding.

"Good girl, we'll be back down in a bit."

You watched them leave, the big heavy door locking you in behind them. You felt numb—fuzzy—like you weren't actually there. Or maybe you were just hoping you weren't. That maybe this was all some drunken-induced nightmare. Maybe you had drunk too much and wound up in an alcohol-induced coma.

You stood, stiffly walking toward the dresser. You shuffled through the drawer, looking for something suitable to sleep in. All you could find were silky slip ons and vintage nightgowns with lace on the hems and little bows—you hated it. You hated how they picked your wardrobe like you were a doll, how they were keeping you down here like a. . . a pet. Like you were a puppy they chose to take home from a shelter, keeping you in the basement to acclimate you to the house.

You groaned in frustration, slamming the drawer shut. You pace back and forth between the width of the room, pulling at your hair as you tried to put your thoughts together. Your head was spiraling, completely overwhelmed as you drowned in rage and fear and stress until you felt like you couldn't breathe.

You jumped as you heard the door unlocking, turning your head just in time to see Steve enter the room. You frowned, watching him wearily as he smiled at you, closing the door behind him. "Hey, sweetheart."

"What are you doing here?" It slipped past your lips before you really thought about it, mouth clamping shut as soon as you saw the way Steve's jaw clenched.

"Made you some hot chocolate," he said, holding up a mug. "Sprinkled some cinnamon in it, just how you like."

You felt your stomach drop. You blinked once, twice, swallowing the bitter disgust that was threatening to overflow your senses. "Oh, um. . . thank you."

He moved to set it down on the nightstand, turning back to you. "Why haven't you changed yet?"

"I—uh—I just—" You looked down at your florally dress, eyes flitting back up to meet his. "I couldn't decide what to wear," you lied.

Steve watched your eyes flick to the side, your hands playing with the fabric of the skirt of your dress. He smiled, stepping close to you and hooking his finger under your chin to tilt your head up. "Why don't we go find something, huh? Come on."

He wrapped his hand around yours and guided you to the dresser, opening up a drawer. He started to shuffle through the clothing. "Let's see. . . how 'bout this, sweetheart?"

He pulled out a little black silk slip-on, holding it up by the straps. Your jaw dropped, completely appalled as tears quickly began to well in your eyes in panic. You had just started to stutter out an answer when Steve chuckled.

"I'm just kidding, sweetie, relax."

Your stomach flipped as you watched him smile—a genuine smile that split his lips and showed off his pearly white teeth. You blinked, stunned, taking in the smile lines in the corner of his eyes and the barely-there dimples on his cheeks.

"How 'bout this one?"

He showed off a modest nightgown with strings laced up the neckline, doily lace trimming the hem of the collar and the skirt and pink bows decorating the fabric. You scowled, barely stopping a grimace from spreading across your lips. Steve caught it anyway, huffing out a laugh.

"Not that one either, huh? Okay. . . . What about this one?"

He pulled out a sleeveless silk sleep-dress with lace tracing the neckline and the straps. The color of the silk reminded you of something a newly wed would wear on her wedding night, that off-white ivory that many women dreamed of. Knowing that was probably the simplest nightgown you had, you let out a sigh, your shoulders dropping.

"That one works," you told him.

Steve beamed, his eyes sparkling as he shut the dresser drawer, handing you the nightdress. "Alright then, go ahead and get changed."

You nodded, giving him a small smile back as you went to turn. He caught your arm, his grip firm yet gentle. "Where ya goin'?"

You frowned at him. "The . . . bathroom? To change?"

His grip on your arm tightened for only a second, enough to send a shudder down your spine. You bit the inside of your cheek to try to steel yourself, hoping you didn't look like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"You don't need to go to the bathroom to change, doll. You can do it right here."

"But—"

"Now, sweetheart. I won't ask again."

You nodded, shuffling the sweater off your shoulders. You ducked your head, your hands wringing the sweater tightly. "Could you—um—could turn around, at least? Please?"

Steve sighed and you dropped your gaze. "Fine. But you're gonna have to learn to get used to Buck and me eventually."

You nodded and watched as he turned, thanking him. You were quick to unzip the dress and let it pool at your feet. You struggled to unclasp the bra, grunting in annoyance when it wouldn't come undone.

"You need some help, sweetheart?" Steve taunted. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"No."

You decided to just slide the straps off your arms and shuck the bra down your body until you were able to step out of it, dropping it on the floor and pulling the nightgown over your head. It was shorter than you anticipated, the hem reaching mid-thigh instead of your knees.

"Okay, you can turn around."

Steve took two steps and he was facing you again, smirking down at you.

"You should drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold," he said.

"Oh, uh—right." You sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping your fingers around the mug before you took a small sip. Steve watched you intently, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. "So —um. . . where's Sergeant Barnes?"

"He's finishing the dishes," Steve told you. "Should be down here soon. Why, you miss him already?"

You felt your cheeks heat up, your fingers tapping against the ceramic of the mug as you sputtered out your answer. "N-no, it—it's not—I was just curious, is all."

Steve chuckled. You swallowed nervously, taking a prolonged sip from your mug—mainly as an excuse to avert your eyes from Steve's gaze. You kept silent, focusing on the warmth that flooded your chest every time you took a sip of your hot chocolate. You blinked lazily, your body feeling heavier. Steve sat down next to you, and as you turned your gaze you realized for the first time he had changed. Before, he was wearing trousers and a button-up shirt. Now, though, he's in sweatpants and a plain white shirt.

"Bucky thinks you'd like a record player down here," he said, "something so it isn't so quiet. We could get you some cd's, some records. Does that sound good?"

Not how does that sound? or would you like that? But does that sound good? He wasn't giving you any other option but to comply. To be okay with his decision. You blinked again, finding it harder to open your eyes this time as you nodded, muttering a soft, "yeah."

Steve smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. You jumped, spine going rigid as you felt his lips split into a grin against your skin.

"You're too cute, babydoll."

You swallowed, sucking in a shaky breath, bringing the near-empty mug to your lips. You couldn't tell if it was the trembling in your arms or if your hands were really shaking, but you gripped the ceramic tighter so you wouldn't drop it. You had never been called that before. Babydoll. You always hoped you would have a partner who would call you by that pet name, but the few boys you dated in high school and freshman year of college were. . . shallow. Your second boyfriend hardly ever told you he loved you. But—even still—you never thought the first time someone would call you that would be a situation as fucked up like this one.

The loud click of the lock broke you from your thoughts, the solid steel door opening slowly. Bucky Barnes stepped in, shutting the door behind him, smiling at you as you heard the dreaded lock click again.

"Hey, doll," he greeted. He ran his flesh hand through his cropped hair, smiling down at you as he crossed over to you and Steve.

You honestly couldn't tell if you acknowledged him or not. Your vision was clouding and your eyelids felt heavy like you could fall asleep in a second if the two men would let you.

"She drink her hot chocolate?" you heard Bucky ask.

"Practically chugged it," Steve answered. You frowned, not understanding their words. You looked down at your empty mug precariously, your brow furrowed as you tried to look for something obvious. Like a roach.

You shivered as Bucky took the mug from you, his fingers ghosting over yours and he smiled. You shuddered again, goosebumps rising upon your skin when Steve started combing his hand through your hair.

"What's the matter, baby?" Bucky asked. "You cold?"

It took you a moment to answer, your eyelids closed, as you mumbled out a soft, "yeah."

You felt Bucky's hovering presence leave for only a moment before it returned; you cracked your eye open to see him holding out a cardigan sweater.

"Go on."

You took it with a soft 'thank you,' and pulled the woven wool over your shoulders. It was so soft against your skin, you hugged your arms around your body as the plush fuzz tickled your bare arms, letting out a sigh. Your head started to droop after you closed your eyes and Steve had to nudge your chin up with his finger. You heard him chuckle.

"I think that's our queue to go to bed," he said. Your world was spinning then, as two hands came under the crooks of your shoulders and lifting you. You let out a lazy yelp as Bucky plopped you down on the center of the bed. You bounced on the mattress a few times before you settled, your eyes falling on Steve as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Wha. . .wha're ya doin'?" you slurred, heart racing as you felt the bed dip.

"We're goin' to bed, baby," Bucky said like it was obvious, crawling into the bed beside you. You frowned at him, your mind foggy as you tried to wrap your brain around what was happening.

"I. . . no—I don't want—"

Steve shushed you, climbing into bed on the other side of you. His hand pressed against your chest, the width from his thumb to his pinky finger spanning across your entire front as he pushed you back with little effort. Your back landed on the plush mattress with a soft 'oof'. "You're just tired, sweetheart," he smiled. "Go to sleep."

You couldn't fight it. Their body heat engulfed you like a typhoon engulfing the mainland; it was overwhelming. You were imprisoned between the two supersoldiers and being forced into a slumber so violently it was like you were being smothered with a pillow. You let out a breathy whine as Bucky wrapped an arm around your torso.

"Hush, doll," Bucky cooed. "You're okay. Just close your eyes."

You fought some more, sluggishly flailing your arm and trying to bat away hands until Bucky had pinned you down, hugging your body flush to his. He crooned your name softly against your ear, his hot breath sending a violent shiver down your spine.

"You're alright, baby," he hushed. "Just relax, Stevie and I are right here. Just go to sleep, princess."

You didn't know if it was the drug or the cozy heat that radiated off of the supersoldiers—maybe it was both—but you drifted off soon after, your body feeling like maple syrup was running through your veins. Steve and Bucky watched as you settled down, your shoulders dropping as your breathing evened out.

"Is she asleep?" Bucky asked softly, lifting his head to look at Steve.

"Yeah, she passed out quick, I might've put too much of the sedative in her drink." Steve was on his side, arm under his pillow as he looked down at the girl curled against his chest.

"I told you, she isn't very big—half a dose would've done the job just fine."

"I just want her to be comfortable," Steve pouted, letting out a sigh. "She was so scared earlier. I just wanna show her she doesn't have'ta be afraid."

"It'll just take some time, Stevie," Bucky told him. "Soon enough, she'll see that this is what's best for her, I promise."

"Yeah." Steve paired with your hair, listening to your soft snores as silence filled the room.

Steve agreed with Bucky—it was too quiet down there. Apart from your small breaths, Steve could only hear the quiet buzz of silence. He thought about records he and Bucky could get you; you liked soft music—acoustic and folk/indie. You really liked an artist named Taylor Swift. Steve tried to ask Bucky if he knew who she was, but he didn't, so Steve ended up downloading her entire discography onto his phone—with Sam's help, who refuses to leave him alone about it. Steve actually liked a lot of her songs; he thought they suited you.

"Do you think it's too dark in here?" Bucky's low voice seemed to echo throughout the silent room.

Steve had been thinking the same thing. There was only a little night light plugged into the bathroom, so you had a little bit of guidance, but they'd have to get you another—maybe in the other room, if they got one bright enough. You were used to the city noise, the light seeping through the cracks of your blinds.

"Yeah," Steve whispered back. "We could get her another nightlight?"

Bucky hummed in response. "Maybe something that sits on her nightstand? It'd be a little brighter than a plug-in."

"Yeah, we'll look for something in the morning."

They stayed quiet for a while, both supersoldiers admiring you while you slept soundly between them. Steve ran his fingers through your hair while Bucky's traced shapes over your bare thigh under the blankets.

"This is perfect, Stevie," Bucky smiled, breaking the silence, reaching over you to grab Steve's hand.

Steve lulled in agreement, still watching the way your chest rose softly with your quiet breaths. "We waited so long for this, Buck, to have her here. She's gonna learn to love us, We just need to be patient."

"I just. . . she's right here, Steve. We're holding her and all I wanna do is fuck her until she can't think—but she's so scared. I don't wanna scare her."

"I know," Steve sighed. "But soon we won't have to control ourselves, she'll be begging for us soon enough."

Bucky had to stifle a groan just thinking about it — about how your little voice would sound begging for his cock, begging him to fuck you silly.

You shuffled between the two of them, letting out the smallest grunt as you readjusted. Bucky gripped your hip to still you, his thumb rubbing small circles into the divot of your hip. You stopped squirming, letting out a small huff before you relaxed.

"She's restless," Bucky noted quietly like he was talking to himself.

"Side effect of the sedative," Steve said. "We'll have to play around with the dosage. Maybe try half a dose tomorrow night, see if even that's too much."

Bucky nodded. "She'll need to eat more tomorrow, too. What she ate at dinner wasn't nearly enough."

"She had a big day," Steve countered. "She was hungover, for one. And she was a little shell-shocked, poor baby couldn't wrap her pretty head around all this."

Bucky huffed out a laugh as Steve grinned.

"I love you, Stevie."

"I love you too, Buck."

Your body protested the first time you woke up. Your senses were fuzzy, only half awake as you protested with a high pitched whine, curling in on yourself. You were so warm, so comfortable, it was lulling you back to sleep as you were struggling to wake.

"Shh, babygirl." There was a hand carding through your hair, drifting you back into slumber. "It's alright, go back to sleep."

You were too tired to actually comprehend the voice, or the hands in your hair and on your hip, running up and down your waist. You were too lagged to feel the two bodies crowding you between them, trapping you between their heat.

You drifted off again just as you felt the lingering touch of lips on your cheek.

The second time you awoke, you were much colder. Maybe that's why it was easier to open your eyes. It was pitch black in your room and for a moment you worried it was still the middle of the night—until you felt the bedsheets. It wasn't nighttime, there just weren't any windows in your prison. It could be noon and you wouldn't be able to tell.

You forced yourself into a sitting position, groaning when your head started to throb so violently you thought it was going to explode. You leaned forward to search for the edge of the bed, yelping as your hand never touched the mattress and you went toppling off the edge. You landed on the floor with a dull 'thump', pulling the covers down with you. You weren't able to catch yourself in time before your head smacked onto the floor.

"Fuck. . . ." you whimpered, shakingly bringing a hand up to your forehead. The lights flipped on, and two pairs of hands were on in less than a second.

"What happened, doll? Are you okay?" It was Bucky. His hands rested on your forearms as he pulled you up, cradling you to his chest. Steve's fingers grazed the bump that had started to form along your hairline and you winced, trying to escape the pain that jolted through your head. "C'mon babydoll, use your words."

"She hit her head," Steve said gently.

"M'fell," you grumbled, clutching at your temples.

"Why don't you let Stevie look at it, princess?" Bucky coaxed, hooking his finger under your chin and turning you to face Steve. You let out a high pitched whine in protest as you were forced out of the darkness the crook of Bucky's arm provided, your eyes closed as your head throbbed in the light. Bucky shushed you, his fingers running through your hair gingerly.

"She might have a concussion," Steve mumbled to himself, his thumb just barely grazing the contusion. "Nothing major."

You grumbled out a garbled response and burrowed your face back into the crook of Bucky's arm.

"No, baby, I need you to look at me."

When you refused to move your head, Bucky kissed your hair, whispering to you, "C'mon, precious. All you gotta do is look at Stevie for a little bit, then we'll turn the lights back off. Can you do that for us?"

You were quiet for a moment before you looked back up at Steve, cracking your eyes open. He smiled at you, sneaking a quick look at Bucky before he returned his focus to you. He holds his pointer finger up in front of your face and tells you to follow it with your eyes. He glided his finger to the left first, and your gaze followed until the appendix left your vision. He did the same thing to the right side. Your head was pulsating under your skull and you had to close your eyes, squeezing the bridge off your nose to alleviate some of the pressure.

"She has a small concussion," Steve confirmed. "We'll just have to keep an eye on it. Nothing else we can do about it."

"Get off me," you scowled, shoving yourself out of Bucky's lap. You were shaky as you stood, tripping over yourself before you found your balance.

"We're just making sure you're okay, doll." Bucky grabbed Steve's hand to keep him from shouting at you.

"You're the reason I fell in the first place," you grumbled, scoffing as you rubbed your temples. They were the ones who brought you to this basement, it was their fault you couldn't find the edge of the bed when it was so god damn dark.

"What'd you say, sweetheart?"

"Let it go, Steve," Bucky pleaded. Steve didn't listen.

You didn't have time to even blink before he was on you, hand gripping your jaw tightly and shoving you against the wall.

You winced when the back of your head collided with the wall, his fingers digging into your jawline.

"You wanna try that again, sweetheart?" he scowled.

A whimper escaped your lips, your small fingers wrapping around his large wrist.

"St—stop."

"Last chance, Sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," you squeaked. "I—I didn't mean it. . . I'm sorry."

Steve closed his eyes, inhaling like he was physically restraining himself, and stepped back. He let go of you and you gasped for breath, doubling over and wheezing.

"I'm not gonna tell you again," Steve glowered. "We won't tolerate your attitude. That was your last warning."

You nodded furiously, tears welling in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks.

"Get dressed," Steve ordered, motioning for Bucky to stand up. "We'll be back down with breakfast in a few minutes."

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sakuric · 3 years

Text

the story of us

pairing!oikawa tooru x gn!reader

wc!1482

warnings!some curse words

genre!fluff

a long awaited game—or rematch, as tooru liked to call it—with karasuno sparked a warrior flame within the volleyball players of aoba johsai. you had never seen a game as intense as the one going on right before your eyes from where you stood in the bleachers. the fangirls up there with you kept shouting at oikawa everytime his serves weren’t received, to your absolute dismay and annoyance.

karasuno’s captain groaned at, yet another blocked spike. another point lost and another embarrassing moment against their enemies. all of karasuno were burned out; the captain was furious, the wing spikers and blockers started feeling demotivated to the core and the setter, oikawa’s least favourite, was switched out with the silver-haired player on the bench.

and that’s exactly what seijoh wanted.

“mr. refreshing’s on the court, guys, we can lay back on the aggressive play.” oikawa sneered loudly, getting ready to serve.

“shut up, shithead, and make sure your serve doesn’t get received.” iwaizumi retorted. oikawa huffed from where he stood near the end of the court. he’s always enjoyed the feeling of the volleyball snug in his hands, and he’s always enjoyed the sweet, sweet taste of a successful serve. he took a deep breath, zoning everything out so he could perfectly send the ball over and earn his team another point. he lets out a soft puff of breath through his lips.

the ball was sent to the air with a gentle toss of his hand. his eyes were locked onto the multi-coloured ball. you could hear the squeaking of his shoes as he chased after the ball, brown eyes quickly flicking to where he wanted the ball to land. with laser-sharp focus, he zeroed in on the spot.

it all happened way too quickly for you to discern. within the blink of an eye, you could hear the loud, satisfying smack of the ball against the floor of the court. and then, a triumphant cheer from the white and teal-clad boys to the right of your line of sight.

so that’s what they call a service ace, you internally mused to yourself.

karasuno was in distress, you could clearly see the number five, whom you knew as bald head (via tooru) or tanaka, very obviously agitated with yet another service ace, sweat dripping down his forehead. the small tangerine-haired spiker seemed determined enough, not at all showing signs of giving up just yet. tobio-chan stepped back up on the court like the saviour that he was crowned to be. oikawa was craving the taste of revenge—he craved to see karasuno lose and feel how his team felt.

the score was 24-25, aoba johsai in the lead. from the last point onward, the game became intense. oikawa served once again, but this time number five recovered and received the ball perfectly. a few grunts left the lips of seijoh’s players, but they regained their forms and got ready for an intense play.

with a swift move and a strong spike, the ball was about to hit the floor on aoba johsai’s side. oikawa quickly dived down and received the ball with his palm splayed flat on the ground. no one noticed anything, but oikawa’s fingers weren’t in the right shape it should be in.

as he went to set the ball, his fingers cracked and a groan left his lips. the coach immediately called for him upon noticing—he should’ve known better; coach would never let anything slip past so easily. he got switched out and was led to the nurse’s office by you.

“tsk… this is so stupid.” tooru groaned, massaging the inside of his palm as you two walked.

“what is?”

“that i can’t play.”

“maybe if you let the libero do his job, you wouldn't be worrying about this,” you snarked.

“oh shut up, as if you’d play better than me.” oikawa rolled his eyes.

you and him always had this frosty back-and-forth banter. he never liked your guts and neither did you. you two finally arrived at the nurses office to be met by a sign on the door; ‘nurse is on lunch break’

“i guess you’ll have to tape me up, doctor y/n.” tooru smirked teasingly, walking into the office behind you.

“it’s not like i have any other choice.” you mumbled in defeat, ordering for him to sit down so you can tape him up and get this over with.

“wow, since when are you so bossy?”

“you know, tooru, if you keep talking to me, i’ll purposefully take a longer time to tape you and you won't get to see karasuno losing.” you retorted, a smug grin painted on your face. he groaned when you added the disinfecting cream, and when you started cleaning up his wound.

“tooru, i swear to god, stop groaning!”

“it hurts!”

“what, do you want me to kiss it better or something?!” sarcasm laced your voice as you tried to tape his fingers up as neatly as possible.

“i’d like that, actually.”

“sit still and shut up.” you mumbled, trying to hide the blush creeping on your face. you didn't want him to know that you didn't actually hate him, and that he could have this stupid effect on you.

“don't lie to me, you’d like that too..” he smirked, a smug grin painted across his face.

“no, not at all actually. i’d like your lips far away from mine.” you mumbled.

“who said about kissing on the lips?” he asked, raising a brow.

“i- shut up, tooru.” you plastered an icy, practiced smile on your face, embarrassment blooming in the pit of your stomach. you didn't want him to kiss you, because you couldn't bear the thought of it later. and now that you admitted to thinking about it, it makes it all a hundred times worse. oikawa tooru didn't like you in that way, hell, he didn't even like you. he made it clear that he would never want anything to do with you back when you were first years. but that was two years ago, maybe things changed?

you looked up and saw tooru looking at you with a soft grin on his face.

“you know, you look pretty cute when you’re focused.”

“so suddenly i’m cute? i thought you hated my guts.” you scoffed.

“who said that?”

“you did, back when we were first years and when you decided that we could never be anything more than enemies.” you mumbled the last part, finishing up taping his fingers and letting him go. cleaning his wounds gave you enough time to grow attached to the way his fingers looked, and the thought of how they’d look intertwined with yours, the way they’d feel holding your face, how they’d feel caressing your cheeks.

you were fighting the urge to just lay your head on his wounded hand, but you knew that you couldn't, and that was because of two reasons: you’d hurt him more than he’s already hurt, and it’d be awkward to explain.

it’s like oikawa read your mind when he grabbed your face and pulled you closer, despite his hand being wounded. his lips embraced yours in a warm, yet delicate kiss, not letting even a millimetre of yours get untouched.

you pulled away, stepping a few steps away from him. he sighed. “sorry, i totally forced myself on you, but i didn't want you thinking i hate you.” oikawa apologised and stood up, his tall figure casted a shadow over you. oikawa’s body brushed past you as he left the nurses office. you quickly caught up to him and pulled him down by his collar. “is it true?”

“is what true?”

“that you don't hate me?” you spoke, honestly, you asking the question was just an excuse to pull him into another kiss.

“i don't,” he chuckled. “was the kiss not good enough proof? or do you want me to kiss you again?” tooru smirked, puckering his lips playfully. he didn't expect you to actually lean in and kiss his lips again. this time, you both were kissing back and both felt at bliss.

“if anything, i like you, y/n.” he spoke after you both pulled away to take a breather. “let’s get back to the match, eh? wouldn't want them questioning what took so long.”

tooru placed a hand on your waist as you two walked back. and, to your surprise, the match was already over. seijoh won! the long awaited revenge was taken, but oikawa was happy not because of that.

he was happy because, finally, he let you know how he felt. and he didn't care if you didn't feel the same, all he wanted was to feel your lips on his at least once. now, he’s gotten more than he bargained for but hey, who was he to complain when he’s got the person of his dreams in his arms?

thank you to @elixhirs for beta-ing this piece!

gen taglist; @graykageyama @elixhirs @soranihimawari @admiringlove @vhskenma

#— rayne writes #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x gn!reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #oikawa x you #haikyuu x gn!reader #hq #haikyuu #aoba jōsai #tooru oikawa #tooru oikawa x reader

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alri-xo · 4 years

Text

Ship of Dreams (Titanic 1997 AU) | Chapter 1

Gif not mine

A/N: Hello everrrrybodyyyy so after about twelve hours, chapter 1 is here 🎉 and like... Yeah... I hope you enjoy reading this part bc it's gonna be pretty long. (Italics are short flash backs). Made a few tweaks in how the scenes flow but still, it gets there. Don't worry bout it. And I added links below for you to easily navigate between the current parts of the story, and I'll be doing that for all the other chapters for easier access. Channelling this Bucky (thanks babe @witchymegg ) and post serum Steve in this fic, but in whatever Jack and Fabrizio wore.

Pairing: Alexander Pierce x Reader

Warnings: Age gap?, rich people being rich people, social discrimination, gambling. Swearing... I am on the app so this has no page break

The whirring of the large helicopter was heard through out a far radius, Y/N and Meg seated inside and Diamond on the old woman's lap.

As one of the submarines were being swung over to begin another mission, Jared and Baron walked over, talking. Baron was rather aggressive in his perspective on meeting lil old lady Y/N, calling her an old liar. Saying that her claims that she is Y/F/N is false as she 'died' in the Titanic.

However, Jared was too set in finding the precious jewel to listen to Baron's claims. He'd care less of his friend now that he finally has a walking diary willing to tell the tale.

Jared's Point of View

"She's dead, McKinley... Look it up. She might be another person for vanity... She's an old goddamn liar..." Baron says harshly as the loud propellers of the heli fill the ears of everyone on deck.

"Y'know what, do something you fancy right now, Martins... This is what I fancy, and if you don't want in, go some place else..." I say sternly as I walked over to help the old nutshell out the Sea Stallion.

Claiming that she's dead is rather harsh, now that she's here. In a wheelchair, frail, basically looking like time wasn't too good to her, no... She's no fine wine.

But she is definitely a fine piece of the puzzle, for my reputation and for this shipwreck. Thousands of dollars will go to nothing and will prove Baron right.

I'm his boss. I should be right...

Right?

"Good day, Mrs. Treville... Welcome to the Dal'nomer... I'm Jared McKinley..." I greeted as she was carried down the heli in her wheel chair, a young woman following her as she descended from the small door.

"Hello, Mr. McKinley... This is my granddaughter, Meg..." She greets me as Meg reaches out to shake my hand for a brief moment, following her grandmother soon after, a fish bowl with a few small fishes inside being handed to me.

Who the hell brings their entire house in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean?

💎

"How's the stateroom, Mrs. Treville?"

"Lovely, Mr. McKinley... Very lovely..." she says happily as she looked around the room, "Have you met my granddaughter, Meg? She takes care of me..."

"Yes, we met a moment ago, grandma..." She smiles as I caught Baron roll his eyes and chuckle... I looked at him, making him stop.

"Oh yes..." she says remembering me meeting her granddaughter. A short pause filled the air for a moment, as I looked at the mass of picture frames on top of the bedside table.

I mean, it's pretty inconvenient and her actions are pretty different than any old lady I ever met.

"That's nice... I like to bring my pictures with me... And Diamond of course..." she says pertaining to her white Pomeranian, seated on the foot of ther bed.

Old ladies... Quite peculiar specimens.

But that's not the thing I'm after. I'm after that big juicy jewel, and the story behind it. The safe combination, how did Pierce grab hold of it, of such a controversial piece of pressurized carbon.

"Anything else you need?"

"I would like to see my drawing."

💎

Reader's Point of View

We entered the lab. The white paint prominent all around. Technicians in their white garments as they fiddled with the tech around them, like children playing with their dolls.

They lead me to a place in the lab, a rectangular dish on top of the cold, busy table. A drawing of a woman submerged in the clear water.

"Lay there... Just like that for me..." his steel blue eyes focused as he directed my form, bare flesh but a large gem on my chest, dark as the rim around his irises.

His large hands held his pad of paper as he sketched in dark grey strokes.

His dark brown locks loose on his face as he glanced at me.

His muse.

It puts a smile on my face, as I remember how I was too innocent and certain to love someone for the grade of good, not knowing any better.

Jared nears to me, holding a black and white picture in his hands, the 'Heart of the Ocean.'

"Louis the Sixteenth, wore a fabulous stone called the Blue Diamond of the Crown, it disappeared in 1792. About the same time Louis lost everything from the neck up..." Jared said as he sat beside me, showing me the picture... I just listened to him and the gem's origins.

I always knew it cost a fortune, but now I just realized a thing that I felt back then... A diamond fit for royalty on a girl like me, marrying for what good reason?

It's a gorgeous piece, truly. However, by what Jared is saying, it is one for that of the Olympic Dieties.

"... Today, it would be more expensive than a Hope Diamond," his friend Baron nodded, agreeing that such is worth a fortune.

All I could think was I was both lucky but undeserving of having to wear it. A thing worth more than my whole existence is wanted by these people for whatever reason. I wouldn't want to jump into conclusions.

"Oh, I remember how heavy this was..." I said touching the picture of the necklace and looking ay the drawing, "I only wore it this once..."

Meg looks at me reluctantly, raising an eyebrow, "Do you really believe that's you, Grandma?"

I smiled at her and chuckled, "Why yes, dear... I was quite the looker..."

Jared smiles as my granddaughter giggles behind me. All is well on my part.

However, I can sense that one of the men, Baron, is skeptical of me. I wouldn't want to think so paranoid but, a man like him looks at someone like me differently.

Jared goes on with his story, and I listen, any rational human should do the same, "We tracked in down through insurance records but it was deemed confidential... Do you know who the claimant was, Y/N?"

"I believe it may be someone with Pierce..." I say in a lively tone. But that surname irks me.

Pierce...

"Ding ding ding! The father, New York personality, worked for the Navy as one of it's top asset and next part of his story, became one of the most known socialites of his time in the US. For his son, Alexander Pierce, heir of all that cash, splurged on the necklace during his trip to France..."

He paused a little, "For his fiancee, you... One week before the Titanic set sailed from England. Claim was made after the ship sank... Meaning, it went down with the ship."

Meg looked at the date, dictating it to Jared as he snapped his fingers.

"So if your grandma is who she says she is, it means that she wore the necklace when the Titanic sank..." Baron butted in like an omniscient being, but I don't really mind. What is there to mind anyway?

I can't force someone into believing who I say I am. I have gone through enough in my 100 years of existence and that's a thing I learned along the way, before I rode that ship. I couldn't force even my mother who I think I am... When she was alive of course.

Jared smiles at me like the Cheshire cat, eyes gleaming with anticipation, "And that makes you my new bestfriend."

💎

We went forth to another part of the lab. In front of me stood a table, antiques submerged in the Atlantic laid out in front of me.

It felt as if I was travelling through time, in my younger years. My glory days. The mirror looked in shape, though faded a little and cracked, it's still the mirror I once held.

"My reflection is a little different..." I smiled as I set it down. I took another antique from the table, a hair piece this time and inspected it. It still dawns its jewel toned colors, except it has faded through the test of time.

All these items still vivid in my memory. How new they were and the materials that made up every piece on this table, were so rare and priceless. It's extraordinary how they are still in mint condition, after such a long time.

The people connected to these items however, didn't stand the test of time very well. They come and go.

"Are you ready to go back to Titanic?"

💎

Third Person Point of View

"Live from 12,000 feet," Baron begins with his lecture, a simulation of what happened to the Titanic, the video running the events that lead to the sunken disaster, now at rest in the Atlantic.

Jared thought she doesn't need to know this, but Y/N insisted. She said she was curious, despite her thoughts on this skeptic, Mr. Martins, it would be rude to decline. Men can share.

Y/N, seemed facinated with the tech around her, showing the bottom of the ocean but seemed interested at a certain part of the sunken ship, which made Jared pay attention to her expressions, to unlock memories that may lead him to a successful mission.

He simply can't let every bit of this pass. Not a damn chance.

Baron went on and on... making sounds along the visuals on screen...

"Morse code, DIT DIT DIT..."

"Sank on the bottom like junk, BOOOM..."

"Pretty cool, huh?" Baron says happily, smiling at her, ancient eyes stoic as it ended.

"Thank you for that fine forensic analysis, Mr. Martins. Of course the experience of it was far less... Scientific..." she says, her voice frail, but willing to tell what it's like. Willing to be a primary source of information, a walking book... Diary rather.

"Will you share it with us?" Jared asks, preparing the tape recorder.

Y/N stands from her chair, looking around the monitors, the sad ruins of the ship below. Algae and sea garbage on its once metal hand rails and deck.

Reader's Point of View

I looked at the ruins of the ship from the monitors. Every part of it, every set of stairs, every surface of the ship, I see people, from all walks of life. The door, now rusted and covered in debris and underwater plants.

"Good day, Ms. Y/L/N..." a man says, who works in the Titanic opens the door for me, metal tinted in gold as its windows, the varnished wood engraved with expertly made carvings.

Futher past the door, the ivory staircase on full display. Passengers of first-class in their fine garments and black suits, up and down its grand halls.

It all flashes in my head, before my eyes. All the opulence, the lush life... And how lives clinged to the metal rails for dear life.

I felt my face get hot and my eyes burn as tears ran down my face, my mouth slightly agape as I covered it and gasp in air, as it drowning in my memories and in my emotions.

Meg's face paints to worry, as she takes my wheelchair, "I'm taking her to rest."

"NO!"

My voice strong and in authority. I called Mr. McKinley, and I am here to give it to him. Not for him to aid in my old age.

I sat down with the monitors behind me as the people in the room settled down, Jared holding a tape recorder in his hands.

"It's been 84 years-"

"Just tell us what you can... Anything at all..." Jared interrupts as I began to tell of my experience. Took aback, I thought to myself...

Does he really want me to say what I have to say or he just wants something else out of me?

"Do you want to hear it or not, Mr. McKinley?" I ask sternly, he falls quiet signalling me to continue.

"It's been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china has never been used. The sheets have never been slept in... Titanic was called, the 'Ship of Dreams,' and it was... It really was..."

Third Person Point of View

Everyone was smiling ear to ear, hugging each other as they boarded the large ship. People segregated, the first-class passengers need no such inspection, just by the looks of them.

Third-class however, needs to go through inspection. Health, appearance... Certain things were contagious back in the day.

In the sea of people, old fashioned automobiles honked loudly, the aristocrats. Easily distinguished as gold curls surrounded the edges of the vehicle's doors and windows, one after the other. It's contents may be people or their stack of belongings.

To these aristocrats and socialites, there is no in between when it comes to needs and wants. Every want is a need.

Reader's Point of View

So this is a ship, they say? It's but a big boat to me... Looks like any other ship. So much for taking me here when I could've lived my life on land like a normal girl.

I reached out my gloved hand to the chauffer, helping me off the vehicle. I looked through my wide brimmed hat, the Titanic in front of all the people bidding goodbye.

To these people, this is the grandest ship in their eyes and hearts. For me, who had a fair share of being on different ships, this just looks like a joke to me.

So much for bringing me here, Pierce.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about... It doesn't look bigger than the Mauretania..." I say to Alexander as he stepped down the vehicle.

"You can belittle all other things, Y/N but not the Titanic..." he pressed as if he himself already entered the ship, "It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauretania and far more luxurious... You're gonna love it..."

I walked forth a little to give space to my mother, Katherine, Karen for short. I call her that, but without her knowledge as she likes to make herself be heard and she wants it exactly how she wants it.

"Your daughter's far too hard to please, Katherine..." Alexander says as she helps her off the vehicle.

May I add, she's a feisty one.

"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable, huh?" She says looking at the ship, raising her thin eyebrow. Her hands tucked inside her hand warmers.

"Yes, it is unsinkable. God himself can't sink this ship." He beams as my mother looks at him impressed.

A small man approached Alexander, telling him that the luggage should go to the main entrance around the ship somewhere. He hands him a good tip, a more than good tip. His eyes grow large as Alexander tells him to look for Brock Rumlow, his right hand.

It's funny because his right hand man is nearer to my age than he is.

Choices.

We head off to the ship, my mother's arm linked to Alexander's, looking more like a couple than how we are meant to look the part as I walked passed the third-class passengers being inspected.

We walked on the ramp, the water under it and the people below us.

Upon entrance, Alexander made me link my arm with his. Thanks, mother for finally thinking that you set me up with this person and not you setting yourself up with him.

Although that last part sounds better to me. He's as old as someone like him should be.

It was the ship of dreams... to everyone else. To me it was a slave ship. Taking me to the the United States in chains.

Outwardly I was everything a well brought up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming.

💎

Third Person Point of View

Forget the ship for now, the focus should be inside the pub. A pub full of people from the working class, drinking liquor, good enough that their money can afford, as cheap prostitutes flirted with the men for a quick buck for a bite to eat.

Four men, playing a serious game of poker. Every last bit of coin they had, were on the table. One takes a drink of his brown liquor as he speaks in Swedish.

"Du dumma, satsar du på våra biljetter! (You dumbass, you bet our tickets!)" He says to his companion who snaps his attention to him.

"Du förlorade alla våra pengar och jag försöker få tillbaka dem. Välj nu ett jävla kort! (You lost all our money and I'm trying to get them back. Now pick a damn card!)," One of them says gritting his teeth at his friend, who was playing all he got.

One of them puffs a cigarette, his grey blue eyes focused on his cards and the man across the table. Caring less of his brunette locks getting in the way of his vision.

"Hit me again, Ivan..." he asks as one of the Swedish men slip him a card and he takes it.

His blonde companion, begins to worry a little. Thinking they bet everything and are about to lose everything and stay in Southampton for another long time before they get lucky.

He notices, his voice in a low, raspy whisper, "Don't worry buddy, we've got nothing to lose..."

"We have nothing to lose because we literally have nothing, Bucky..." he says worried, as his friend bet everything they had, except for their clothes...

The ship horn toots its mighty note, alerting the gamblers, Bucky looks around, his competition sweating seeds off his forehead.

"Moment of truth..." he begins looking up at the four other men, anticipation and worry painted their faces, "Steve..."

The blonde lays out his deck, "Nothing..."

He continues, "Ludvig..."

The man lays out his deck, "Oh, squat..." he continues to the other one, "Ivan, two pair... Hmm... Sorry, Steve..."

Steve's face pales, he begins to sweat buckets... Fear rushing over him as he feels cold, palms sweaty.

"W-we lost? I won't be able to see ma another while... Darn it, Bucky..." he begins to stammer and curse... Thinking luck was not on his side...

"Sorry, Steve... You lost and I WON! FULL HOUSE, BUDDY!" Bucky cheers as Steve stands up happily hugging him, kissing the two tickets, "We're going home!"

Profanities streamed from the lips of the two other men who bet their tickets. The poker gods not on their side.

The taller man stood up, over 6 feet tall, maybe 6 foot 7, and grabbed Bucky by the collar. Bucky closed his eyes to take the impact of the large hand balled up in a fist. Instead, he punches his companion, knocked out like a light.

"We're going home, Steve!!"

"America, here we come!!"

Their celebration came to a halt, the pub owner cutting in looking at the two men.

"You're not going to America... Titanic is, in five minutes..." he says pointing to the clock, every second wasting away.

The two men exchanged looks and rushed out the pub, all their belongings they stuffed in their bags like sacks.

They ran in the crowd chasing time, as Steve cheered excitedly as they were coming home.

They ran and ran, cutting between the crowd of people and the honking automobiles. They skipped the line for inspection and went straight to the third-class passenger entrance, Bucky waving the tickets at the guard.

"Passed through inspection?" The guard asks, like he does for every passenger.

"Don't have lice, don't worry... We're both Americans..." He says flushed and panting, waiting to get on the ship to their quarters.

The guard was testy, but there was a sliver of trust shining through, "Alright, come aboard..."

They entered the ship, but it came to a halt. The guard passed the ticket on to another guard to inspect them, to see if they are not posers.

He begins saying the names, "Eklund and... Norberg..."

He says, raising a brow... he thought, 'these don't look like Eklunds and Norbergs...'

He hands them the tickets, granting them entrance to the RMS Titanic.

"Come on, Ivan!!" They ran in the corridor, whooping in victory...

"We are the luckiest sons of bitches alive!"

They quickly run up the metal stair case, excitedly throught the crowd of people finding their way in the ship. They busted out the door as they stood along the people on the poop deck.

"BYEEEE" Bucky yells out to the crowd, as if someone important to him is in the crowd.

Steve looks at him puzzled, "You hung out with some skank?" He asks, knowing that Bucky's a smooth wolf where ever he went.

Bucky shakes his head, chuckling then looking at him in disbelief, "NO, Steve... It's a thing!!!"

Steve shrugged and started waving at the crowd as the ship moved away from the dock.

"Bye, everybodyyy!!! I may or may not forget youuuu!!" Steve yells to the crowd as the ship set sail to New York, back to their country and to their homes.

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A/N: CUUUUT so this is chapter 1 of Ship of dreams... You finally reached the bottom of this chapter... Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it 💕 keep saaafe

-Alri

Taggies 💕 (ASK ME IF YOU WANT IN)

@witchymegg @underworldqueen13 @amisutcliff @luna4501 @likeit-or-leaveit @vhsbarnes @uglipotata72829

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groovyzombiellama · 5 years

Text

Shoutout To My Ex 2

Title: Shoutout To My Ex 2

Requested? Yes.

Plot: You start dating G-Eazy after breaking up with Colson, but after hearing he had an accident and he was in hospital, you rush over to see him, with your new boyfriend, resulting in a somewhat awkward situation in the hospital when your new partners realize you two are still not over each other.

Word count: 1224

Part 1

—***—

It took you so long to let go of the grudge you were holding against Chantel and Colson, and to crawl out of the little hole you've built for yourself to just exist in. Meeting Gerald and spending time with him got you out of feeling sorry for yourself, of feeling like it was something you did that made Colson want to cheat on you. You spent your time asking yourself what you did to make him want to do something like that, or maybe it was something you said. Because to you, a drunk person was in a way at their most honest, and that's the time their inner feelings emerge and they act according to that and not their head. It was only when you started coming out into the world of socialising again did it hit you that you were not the problem. That you should not be blaming yourself that the man you loved not only ended up in another woman's bed, but also made her his girlfriend. So why couldn't you get Colson out of your head? Why is he still the first thing you think about when you wake up, and the last image that passes your mind before falling asleep?

You should be sticking to what you said, being gone for good. Colson didn't really spend his days asking for you to forgive him, he was instead spending time with his new boo. And in reality that wouldn't change anything if he did. You're too stubborn to even listen to him, but in the back of your mind, you wished he at least tried. You really cared about Gerald and you knew he cared about you, so you spent a lot of time focusing on getting Colson out of your head and filling it with your music and your boyfriend. But Colson's face would always somehow manage to cloud your vision and at the same time give you a bundle on inspiration. And that irritated you more than anything, that the one guy you wanted to hate the most was the reason behind some of your best songs. But you didn't really know how much you were still in love with him until one night, when you received a call from an unknown number. You were in the shower at the moment, and since you had absolutely nothing to hide from Gerald, you told him to answer it.

If only you didn't. When you walked our of the shower, you saw him sitting on the edge of your bed with his head in his hands. Putting away the towel you were drying your hair with, you kneeled in front of him, worry in your gaze as you asked him what was going on. He looked at you with a strange look in his eyes that you couldn't quite decipher before telling you something that made your blood freeze and your eyes widen. Your heart started beating like crazy.

"Colson had a car accident, he's in the hospital now. His condition is critical."

Watching the change in your features along with how fast you were on your feet, getting ready to go and see him made Gerald think about the phone conversation he had previously, with Chantel. She was the one to call your phone while you were in the shower and told Gerald the news. But she didn't exactly tell him the same thing je told you. Colson's condition wasn't critical, he was knocked unconscious, but he was gonna be fine, with just a few cuts and bruises. The reason why she told your boyfriend to change the story was to show him that you were still in love with Colson.

"The two of them are still in love with each other and are failing miserably to fall in love with us. I'm calling only because as Colson was coming back to consciousness, out of all the names he could have said, he called out to Y/N. I feel terrible for being half of the reason why they ended their relationship, but if this works and you see that she's still in love with him by her actions, we should probably stop fooling ourselves with thinking that they will love us more than each other."

Those words played inside his head, as he had memorized them. He knew that you might still have feelings for your ex, but this confirmed for him that not even you were aware just how in love you still are. The car ride was silent and as soon as you entered the hospital, you were rushing towards the doctors, asking if Colson was gonna be alright. After they confirmed that he's gonna be fine, you sunk into one of the chairs in the waiting room, Chantel giving a meaningful glare to Gerald, who sat down next to you. He suggested that you two go home since now you know he's gonna be fine to which you quickly protested, saying that you were not leaving until they let you see him.

"You're still in love with him."

You shift your gaze at your boyfriend, who raised his eyebrows and nodded at you. That was when realisation of your behaviour hit you and you began explaining yourself to him. But Gerald grabbed your hands, and shook his head slowly, telling you that you had nothing to explain yourself for. He already knew this would happen, but he just wished it didn't, or maybe that he was more ready for it when it did arrive. Chantel had already talked to Colson and told him that it's for the best that they end things, and that he should go back to pursuing you and asked your forgiveness, before exiting the hospital. You didn't want to lose Gerald and tears were streaming down your face as you apologise to him, telling him that you never wanted to hurt him.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. You can never lose me, I love you too much to let you go. But I know your heart belongs to him, so it's better for me to step back and let you be with the man you love. Perhaps he's the one who's gonna change your policy on never forgiving a cheating. Considering how much you still live him. Go be with him."

You gave Gerald a big hug, thanking him for his big heart and everything you two lived through before he also left and you were informed that you can enter the patients room now. As you did, Colson tried lifting himself up in the bed, but when he winced in pain, you were quickly by his side, and he gently took your hand in his.

"Im so sorry baby girl. You mean the absolute world to me and I love you more than anything in the world. If you agree to give us another shot, I promise to do my best to gain your trust again."

You smiled at him, before leaning in, and pressing your lips to his. A sigh of relief left Colson's lips before you both chuckle at your next words and he pulls you in for another kiss and a hug.

"Don't ever scare me like that again. I guess you're my fucking kryptonite after all. I love you too, always have, always will."

---***---

I hope I did you guys justice with this one, I kinda like it a lot myself, not to brag, and I hope you guys like it too <3

I don't know why, but on my phone it keeps telling me that people liked my photo post even though it's a text post. I hope you guys can see it correctly and it's the first time I've added a link for another part over the app, I usually use my Mac for doing imagines, but I'm trying to get used to the app too, so I hope it's all good 😂❤️

Another MGK request and another part of another fic and I can go back to the ask box and finally work on some Diego Tinoco 😍😍

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk au #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #MachineGunKelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly au #machine gun kelly x reader #young gunner #young gunner imagine #jp cappelletty #jp cappelletty imagine #jp cappelletty x reader #jp cappelletty au

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