#in other news i might not finish next weeks loose stitches page on time i am. struggling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bird-in-a-cage · 4 years ago

Note

#42 from the prompt list... I mean I'm sorry but... I NEED TO SEE THAT.

Wow, am I sorry this took so long! This was a tough prompt but, thanks to @cockasinthebird for being a wonderful human being, we got through it. So I hope this was worth the wait!

Prompt list is here if anyone wants to throw a prompt at me!

#42: “I didn’t say “sex party” as in orgy. I said “hex party” as in witches.”

So far, college had been okay. It was as hard and challenging as Steve had expected, but he was getting on almost well. He had to spend a lot of time studying in the library, reading and re-reading source materials, typing, editing, deleting and starting all over again with essays and assignments sure. But it was different from high school, on a deep level he wanted to be here, amongst the old stone buildings that either held no heat at all or far too much depending on the weather outside, surrounded by people who also shared a passion for learning. It was different to focus on what he wanted to learn instead of just having to cram a little bit of everything into his brain everyday.

Turns out, if he was just allowed to go a little slower and take his time, he wasn’t as dumb as everyone back home at thought.

He’d gotten into college by the skin of his teeth, pulling far too many all nighters and living off five hour energy to drag his grades up when it was almost too late, pulling in every favour he had to retake anything below a C with nothing but a prayer and a pleading smile, somehow managing to not go completely insane in the process. Getting a 3 point grade average at graduation had been nothing short of a miracle. He wanted to say his parents had nothing to do with his acceptance into quite a nice school, but in reality Steve knew they probably greased a palm or two. Maybe helped pay for the new set of band uniforms that were recently unveiled.

The college itself was beautiful. Steve had fallen for it on his first visit. Old stone buildings, a large green campus area, a good surrounding community, regular activities and groups to go meet up with and try different things with now he was getting out of small town Hawkins and away from being stuck in what he knew.

There was something a bit…odd about the college though. Steve would be sat in the library, for example, finishing up a comparison piece when he would hear the telltale low battery beep from his headphones. He always forgot to bring a charger. He knew it was on his nightstand back in the dorm room, wrapped around the drawer handle so he wouldn’t forget to lift it this time, so it was pointless checking his bag for it. He would go to pack his things away, open up his slouchy backpack and there it would be, his exact one because he’d wrapped a piece of green tape around it when his roommate kept stealing it and swearing blind he hadn’t, laying curled around his water bottle..

That wasn’t the only example though. Things would just appear when he was looking for them. Books he needed from a completely different section would just happen to be on the shelf he was currently looking at. If a flavour of soda was sold out at a vending machine, he would pick another, but the one he originally wanted would tumble out, ice cold and somehow impossibly refreshing. None of them were a major inconvenience by far, but it was just odd.

The only small downside to the college of his dreams is that he forgot to investigate anything about the fraternities and sororities. Steve didn’t really have any desire to be in any frat even if offered, they were just houses for boys to pretend not to be at least a little bicurious as they bumped into each other all sweaty playing sports, using basketball as an excuse to touch each other’s muscles. Flat out no homo-ing each other. Steve was out and proud at college, didn’t need an excuse anymore other than “you’re hot, you wanna?”. The days of bi-panic and needing a thinly veiled excuse such as helping someone he thought was cute off the ground in the middle of a match were long gone. Steve had been to a couple of frat parties, naturally, everyone did. They were kinda fun if you hung around outside away from the thick, choking air of sexual tension that was threatening to bubble over at any minute.

Everyone knew frat houses were just potential orgy dens, right?

There was one frat house though, just off campus and to the right a little, that gave off a weird vibe. The Omega House. It didn’t look that special, had dark grey panelling on the outside, windows trimmed in white, the omega symbol on the outer wall above the door painted in silver that reflected the sunlight and looked almost like real silver. Like the college itself, it was just odd. As far as Steve could tell it didn’t have many members, only four, as far as he’d counted, would walk around in blazing orange letterman jackets with that emblem stitched into the back and a smaller one on the front right breast. He didn’t know what majors they took, probably all on sports scholarships with how stacked a couple of them looked, and one liked to hang around the library. Always in sunglasses even indoors, tight jeans to combat the slightly too big jacket. Blonde hair shaved at the sides but longer on top, not wildly long but just enough for natural loose curls to develop.

Not that Steve had been looking at how handsome he was at all.

Thinking about it, he seemed to always be around when the odd things happened. When there would suddenly be a spare chair even though all the tables were packed with other students trying to do their work, a fresh stack of post it notes in Steve’s bag when he needed to write an annotation down quickly, a newly sharpened pencil just happening to be on the floor by his feet when he’d lost his before class. The rain suddenly starting as soon as Steve got into a building when he’d forgotten an umbrella like it was waiting for him to be safe and dry.

There was just something weird about the whole thing. Not enough for him to freak out and want to go home though, no way. He could deal with weird and slightly odd far better than being stuck in a town going nowhere, where his only future was getting a job in his father’s company and a wife he didn’t love, cranking out a couple kids after a year of so and slowly but surely morphing into a mirror image of the man he lowkey despised.

Even the thought of that was horrifying. It was bad enough that genetically they might look similar one day. Hopefully many, many years in the future. When plastic surgery was cheap.

The library was quiet when Steve entered. Of course it was, it was a Friday night. There were a number of parties and gatherings happening all over the place, but this week he’d promised himself to be good. Study now and party later. He’d been invited to a glow paint, totally-not-a-rave party happening just outside of town that he was pretty excited for. He’d been focusing hard on his studies so it was time to let off some steam. And maybe that steam had been building for quite some time cause ol’ Lefty wasn’t doing the trick anymore, mashing his face into a pillow in the dead of night, furiously jacking off under a blanket and praying his roommate didn’t wake up or come back soon. And, maybe sometimes, Steve thought about that cute blonde in the Omega House jacket and how good it would be to see those thick lips all slick and swollen wrapped around his cock. Really those thoughts were just between him and God, who he hoped wasn’t paying attention most of the time he was alone in his room.

Steve found the spot he liked, towards the back facing towards the window where he couldn’t be distracted by people walking in, and pulled his laptop and the well annotated copy of Dracula he was working from. His half finished essay sat on the screen, cursor blinking at him accusingly, demandingly even. He sighed at it and opened up to the page he was last working from when the chair next to him was pulled out. Not even one or two over, obeying the unspoken rule of the Personal Study Bubble. No, the very next chair. Steve could see orange reflected on his screen. He frowned slightly and turned to just give a passing glance, hoping for a the fuck? expression, when he saw staggeringly blue eyes staring back, nestled into tan freckled skin, natural curls just reaching down into the field of view. The regular sunglasses had been tucked up into the neck of a black tee. The back of Steve’s neck felt instantly hot as he looked away, hoping for a moment he hadn’t been seen, but that was impossible. He was right there.

“Hey, haven’t seen you around before. Must be in the same class though.” His voice was deep and Steve felt his legs turn a little bit to jello. He chanced another glance and saw the guy was holding a copy of Dracula too. Steve wasn’t sure he’d been holding it before…

“Well, I attend almost every lecture…”

“You must do if you’re in here by yourself on a Friday,” the guy smiled. It didn’t look cruel, neither did it sound like he was making fun. This was already confusing, and Steve wasn’t the greatest with people at the best of times, let alone he around guys he thought were kind of stupidly handsome from afar, and apparently just stunning close up.

Steve just nodded and shifted in his seat slightly since this guy clearly wasn’t going to go away any time soon. He didn’t have anything on the table in front of him, didn’t even look like he had a backpack for the potential of anything. The odd feeling was definitely strong and getting stronger. “Can I… can I help you with something?”

“That depends,” the book was quickly tossed aside and the guy nudged closer with his chair, Steve could smell his cologne. It didn’t smell like anything he’d tried before. It was floral but dark and spicy, but also fruity too. Slightly burnt lemon and vanilla loaf? His hand wrapped easily around Steve’s freer one. His skin was warm, a little rough maybe from weightlifting which he clearly did, applying a comforting amount of pressure. Steve couldn’t help the skin on his arm breaking out in goose pimples. He glanced at their hands together and his throat felt impossibly tight. “I’m Billy by the way.”

“Steve...”

“Great. So, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things can be a little, strange around here-”

Steve glanced at their hands again, felt that blue steel bore into his eyes and further back. “Oh they’re strange alright…”

“You ever wondered why?” This guy, Billy, grinned something devilish and let Steve’s hand go only to put it on his knee, squeezing firm but not unpleasant. Steve was sure he was starting to sweat under the attention of all this. Yeah he had fooled around with a couple guys drunk at parties, stumbled into a dorm room or two he didn’t recognise to have some fun and wake up with carpet burns over his back and his knees, but this felt very direct. Especially when Billy’s hand started slowly drifting higher. Steve couldn’t even say he didn’t want it, he’d been staring at this guy from a distance for months now, but to have him suddenly be right in front and touching with obvious intent. It was something else.

“Uh, n-not really. Sometimes maybe?”

Billy’s eyes turned from cool to blazingly erotic in an instant, for just a moment, then back to cool again. He nudged even closer into Steve’s bubble, who was more helpless than a fish on dry land at this moment.

“Would you like to know why?” The way Billy’s tongue licked over the L was something filthy. If Steve had been set jello before he was now quickly melting into a sweet pool of tangy cherry. “My friends and I can show you.”

Steve felt like he was drowning. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be happening. But still BIlly’s firm hand crept ever higher until he was practically cupping Steve through his jeans, inching closer until their lips were connected in the middle of the library. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed. He was already boiling alive in his skin from all the attention and Billy’s lips weren’t helping. They were as plush as Steve had imagined. Maybe not in the right area just yet but with the way Billy was pushing his palm directly against Steve’s slowly awakening dick they just might be soon.

He was half hard when Billy pulled away, flushed bright red like he’d been sunburnt.

“Come by the house tomorrow night, you’ll see. We promise you’ll enjoy it.”

With that, Billy winked, slipped his sunglasses back on and left. Steve blinked at nothing for a long time, trying to piece together what the hell had just happened to him.

Did… did he just get invited to an orgy?

He packed up quickly and went back to his dorm, there was no way any studying was going to happen now. It didn’t happen throughout all of Saturday either. Just the memory of the whole short incident rolling around and around in Steve’s mind, of Billy’s words dripping from those lips and the feel of his hand pressing just right.

He’d definitely gotten invited to an orgy.

He lay on his bed for a while just thinking, tapping his forefingers together as something for them to do. Steve was kind of flattered really, he knew he was nice looking, but there were far better looking guys on campus, and from the stories he’d heard they’d probably be up for it no questions asked. It also popped into his head that the guys he’d seen wearing the orange Omega jackets were a lot more jacked than he was, and Steve had seen enough porn to know what that probably meant. A part of him knew this was utterly insane. Shit like this didn’t happen without a bored camera crew and fourteen different close up angles.

But then maybe it did happen. He was from a small town after all. He was pretty sure his neighbours three doors down were swingers from all the cars that would suddenly appear once a month for just a night. Least that was the rumor that he may or may not have pushed a couple times. And, afterall, wasn’t this what college was about? Being out there and experimenting with crazy shit you wouldn’t do in the real world. He’d taken ecstasy in his first few weeks at a warehouse party, he had no desire to do that back home.

So, maybe he was warming up to the idea of being a bottom at an orgy party being held in the weird grey frat house. Who was anyone to judge? Steve just wasn’t going to tell anyone about it, that’s all.

He felt nervous standing on the front steps of the Omega House. All the blinds were drawn inside. He didn’t know what to bring, what was customary? It didn’t feel right to bring, like, snacks, so he’d just brought himself, already flushing and trying not to get hard by just the thought of Billy getting his hands on him again, how good he must look naked and sweating, finding out what those lips could really do.

The man himself answered the door after two sharp knocks. The grin he wore was sinful, eyes wild and excited, grip firm as he pulled Steve easily inside the dark room. Steve wasn’t sure what to expect, but low mood lighting, a coffee table in the middle of three couches covered in books and blank papers, and every other surface holding up thick lit candles dripping with wax wasn’t it. It also appeared to be just the two of them.

It wasn’t entirely what he had signed up for. But Steve wasn’t exactly complaining.

“Man, am I happy you actually came,” Billy started, pulling his letterman off and hanging it over the banister like a coat hook. His black tee had the sleeves ripped off, his arms were nothing short of statue worthy. He ruffled his hair a little, the curls bobbing just so. They looked delightfully soft. “The rest of the guys are at some sorority bullshit, but they’ll be here later.”

“Uh, o-okay, cool.” Steve tried to sound confident as he went to go take a seat on one of the couches. Billy sat next to him, up close and personal again and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He was radiating body heat which Steve wanted to eat up greedily. He noticed some of the books on the table. A copy of Frankenstein, a very old looking copy of Dracula, maybe second edition, a copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and copies of both Malleus Maleficarum and A Guide to Modern Witchcraft. Those titles mixed with all the candles and the mood lighting and Billy’s staring and frankly demonic grin led Steve down the path that seemed the most obvious to him.

This was a sex cult house. And it was about to get all Rosemary’s Baby up in here.

Billy’s hand was back on his thigh again, heavy and pressing, taking Steve out of his deep barrel of thoughts. The grin was back on his tanned features. “You look nervous.” He gave Steve’s thigh a squeeze. Even though he had no idea what was going on it still made his cock jump alert in his jeans.

“Well, I’ve never exactly been to… one of these before…”

Billy’s eyebrows furrowed together a little, he still wore a smile though. It suited his face. “One of what?”

“You know...?” Steve rolled his hands as his face turned ever redder. He was sure it could almost be seen from space. He wasn’t a prude by any means, but growing up in quite a strict household meant he just struggled saying some things out loud. So he whispered it instead. “...an orgy?”

Billy stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter that wasn’t at all humiliating. He must have sensed Steve’s rapidly growing discomfort and indignity because the laughter quickly died and turned more into gentle questioning. “Did you think that was what this was gonna be?”

“Well I don’t know what else this would be!” Steve spat out in frustration. He hated not knowing the whole story and here he felt he barely even knew the first line of the novel. Billy smiled warm like a summer day and cupped his cheek. He felt instantly calmed, being swallowed up by those cool blues like a gentle river on an August afternoon. “I said I’d explain about all the odd things that happen around campus. They’re from us in this house. We’re kind of, different.”

“Different how?”

Billy took his hand back and snapped his fingers loud and piercing. All the candles extinguished themselves at once. Not a breeze to be felt. It wasn’t scary, or spooky, but it was pretty cool. “Different different. You’re the only person who’s seemed to notice. And, by house law, that means you get initiated. You get to know that we’re all witches.”

The word hung in the air and seemed ridiculous. But, at the same time, it didn’t. It did certainly explain how chargers and post its and pencils would suddenly just appear whenever Steve needed them. He still wasn’t completely convinced though.

“Witches?” He repeated back carefully, just in case he’d heard that wrong too. Billy nodded and clapped his hands. Every candle reignited themselves, flickering back to life one by one in a circle around the room. A bottle of whiskey and cans of coke appeared on the table where there had been just papers before. The books remained. There was a proud look on his face. Short of being drugged at the door and this all being a crazy fever dream, this was definitely real. Steve didn’t really have any reason to not believe his eyes and what was happening around him. Billy didn’t look like David Copperfield that was for sure. “So, not an orgy?”

“No. Not an orgy.” Billy chuckled and repeated back. He must have seen Steve’s face go from confused to understanding to a little disappointed all within the space of a few seconds because his hand was high on Steve’s thigh again. Maybe the guy just didn’t understand personal space? That seemed growingly likely. “I don’t think I’d wanna share you anyway.”

Steve felt the flush on his face again, but he grinned through it this time. Weird, spooky, otherworldly shit could be saved for later if there was even a chance of getting what he’d been thinking alone in his bed. “But you’d wanna maybe...?”

He let the question stay floating between them as Billy smirked lewd and pressed himself up against Steve’s body. “Bet you’d love to find out what I can do with my fingers pretty boy…”

Oh, Steve really would.

#prompt list #my writings #harringrove #billy x steve #steve harrington #billy hargrove #college au #was probably about time i did one huh?#sorry i couldn't get the line in exactly but i hope this is still okay

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 7 years ago

Text

Adjectives (help), sentence structure, an abundance of perhaps | Doing the Write Thing #69

hello what is up tis been a month since the last update, here we are again, at 11:16 pm, I have school tomorrow, ah. (it’s midnight as I’m editing this!)

So this DtWT update is probably going to be short because I do seriously need to get to bed, so not too much chat tonight. :( Apologies for my absence on this blog for the last while, February has been such a stressful, and yet exhilarating rush of a month.

Quick recap for y’all tho I’ll go more in depth in my goals update:

- I start my first day at my co-op placement at Hot Topic tomorrow #dreams are coming true

- Went to the west coast two weeks ago with the fam and my life has never been so pure ft. hanging with @shaelinwrites #the air quality tho

- Went to Ottawa this past Thursday + Friday w/ my school, posted the photoset HERE

- Went to see Wallows (previously The Narwhals) yesterday, copped the boys’ signatures (bless @imdisappointed), screamed I’m Full like no other, here’s this pic of Dylan I’ll probs have more for the monthly update:

# Braeden and Cole creepin in the corners

(cole taylor preston is a godsend, story on why will be in the monthly update ha)

Alright so that’s where I’m at. Life’s good.

Onto ze update my friends.

Daily word count goal: 250

Words written: 645

Total word count: 31 603

(the fact that this has only gone up 2k since last month is meeeeee)

Total page count: 55

Songs played: No music, tho I wrote a solid chunk of this while my parents watched talking dead does that c o u n t

Things to know: Did not think this would go anywhere and then I tweaked something I wrote on Friday and everything was like yoooo whattup haven’t said hello to you in a couple weeks we’ll just show up right now at 10:30 even tho you need to sleep at 11:00. I love my brain.

How I felt: Pretty darn good okay, still a little scared, but overall, not bad. I was sending a couple excerpts here and there to @sssoto, @sarahkelsiwrites and @imdisappointed so it was pretty smooth sailing I think

Bad haiku to describe writing session: This month has been good / Didn’t think I’d be writing / But this turned out good

*i use good tentatively ok

Rating of writing session out of 10 and why: Like a 9 I had good fun times, there were lots of colour refs, so many adjectives like pls help

On a scale from 1-10 my level of stoked-ness is: Like a 9... I’m nervous to pick up where I left (I didn't want to stop writing but it’s getting late and I really wanted to post this lol), but there’s potential for some roasting action so I’m down.

Lyrics to describe writing session: How would you feel, if I told you I loved you? / It's just something that I want to do / I'll be taking my time, spending my life / Falling deeper in love with you / So tell me that you love me too / Tell me that you love me too / Tell me that you love me too

--How Would You Feel (Paean), Ed Sheeran (÷)

*struggles to find music not about angsting bois*

*bless ed bless*

GIF to describe writing session:

Excerpt:

So like I mentioned above, this chapter has a lot of colour references as well as adjectives like pls help pls, but on top of this, there’s also this weird recurring sentence structure and I’m like ok:

Consciousness enters and escapes me like Lonan’s troubled pulse, skips; abrupt, then fluid. Perennial, it is, like him, mercurial, like me, unsteady. Even when I move from my spot next to him on the bed, to my desk chair overlooking the night, it sprouts through my foggy mind in intervals. Bramble, it is, unwanted, yet thriving.

Dunno what’s going on there exactly, ha. (strange, it is, Rachel needs to stop)

Dis excerpt has so many clarity issues I don’t even know what I meant but:

The windowsill is cold to the touch. Frosted in white paint, chipped at the edges. The house around me hums, crackles like wood. It is life in structure, but death in standing. A house I can’t call home, not since he died, not since she left, but one that has yet to fall. I’ve cracked the window to keep myself awake, let the cool spring air melt through the filter my father screwed in when I was eight. Perhaps, if this house were Lonan, personified, it would neither stand, nor welcome.

AND YES, the recurring use of perhaps is also a thing in this chapter, I dunno what I’m doing, ha.

Prime example of the perhaps thing:

Worry for him, for the state his mind fiddles in. The notes it plays, and whether they’re harmonious with his intentions. To him, I’ve cared too quickly. To me, I haven’t cared quickly enough. Perhaps, it’s I who have gone mad.

I like the idea of a fiddling mind tho lol

This one is longer but I have so many longer ones, I feel if I put them all in the month’s writing update I’ll be giving you a textbook so:

Never, never will there be a point in my life where I’ll once forgive myself for the damage I’ve incurred, invisible or not. The hole where the innocence of our friendship was won’t widen, nor will it stitch itself back together until it eventually disappears. Perhaps, he’ll forgive me when the time comes. Perhaps, Foster might too.

Not blue like Lonan, like the river’s disguise. Not gentle like the current’s breeze smearing my cheeks. Not safe. Not loved. Not warm, or diligent, or florid. Missed, and worried for, he is. And yet, there’s still distance there. Derision. The insistent pound of worry combatting the tartness. Foster, who I’ve loved, and hated, and trusted, and suspected. Alone. Without me, without Lonan, without support, a warm voice to tell him we’re coming, we’ll find him. Clueless.

# can she stop with the perhaps can she stop with that sentence structure

# no ahhh help

What I like about this, is how it’s supposed to express worry for someone (our boiiii Foster), and we’ve got that going for paragraphs one and two and then she just roasts him in the last line like yessssss this saltttt girl yaaas.

This needs some editing (first sentence reads wordy af to me) but:

Someone’s in the kitchen, playing my mother’s old 80s hits CD—a present burned for her by my father. Not Darren, who’s still outside, fit into the crook between the doorway, and the patio. The steely guitar riff of the song shuffled by the mix resonates from between the mesh speakers of the boombox.

also lets pretend that CDs can shuffle for a second okkk

This is the paragraph I loosely edited that launched me into this writing session:

Lonan folds his hands, bruised knuckles protrude. Blue walls indoors, purple for the exterior—perhaps he’s finished in eggshell. Harrison licks his lips, fiddles with his sleeves. Red paint from chin to forehead, a touch of merlot.

I might share this again in the writing update for the month because it might make more sense with the context of another excerpt which I’m saving for that post, but tbh #where da clarity at doe

oooh unedited salt:

His words aren’t meant to hurt as much as they do, and I know that. I know he doesn’t want to sit here, with Lonan and I, silent, waiting for permission to speak like a wistful pre-adolescent. Like he must raise his hand to get in a thought. And that’s not what I mean for him to feel—trapped, and shrinking, but it’s two versus one, and he knows I’ve chosen my team.

Alrighty, so that’s going to be it for tonight! I seriously hope to be back soon guys, finally leaving this subplot behind (been writing the same stretch of like 4 days for 3 months ahhhhhh), so hopefully some new shtuff shall stir up. For now, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

--Rachel

#Writing #writerblr #doingthewritething #amwriting

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geordiesaffer-blog · 4 years ago

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How is everyone doing? Still hanging in there? I sure hope so... I've been keeping busy with my stitching, reading, beginning a new (non-cross stitch) project (which I'll let you in on some day soon!), trying to limit my news intake, and connecting with family members via Zoom and Board Game Arena . Since this whole strange Covid-19 saga began for us in mid-March, the only person I've talked to face to face is my husband! Such a strange feeling... My family met up for a virtual game night on Easter Sunday (on Board Game Arena) and it was wonderful to see everyone's smiling faces. My oldest son and daughter-in-law in California, middle son and girlfriend who live 30 minutes away, and my youngest son in the Washington, DC area all connected online for games of Yahtzee and Sushi Go. I basically just watched and coached my husband a bit in Yahtzee as only five players could play at a time.My stitching has been hit and miss--still having trouble settling, but I do try to sit down each day for a couple hours in the evening. I know you've seen these designs stitched up many times, but I hope you don't mind seeing my versions... First, is the Easter Holiday Hoopla design by With Thy Needle and Thread. I fell in love with this cute bunny the first time I saw him and am so pleased with how he turned out. I loved the colors on the chart and chose some similar overdyed threads from my stash to stitch him. He is stitched "over one" on 28 ct. ice blue Jobelan so the stitched area is a mere 2" X 2". I finished him into a circle (just traced a drinking glass to get the shape on the mounting board), padded the board with batting, and added a silk handmade cording trim. A mini-pompom gave his tail a nice fluffy look. Easter Holiday Hoopla finishThe round piece is simply glued onto a fabric-covered piece of sticky board and placed in a rustic looking 3.5 inch square brown frame. I purchased a bunch of these frames from an eBay seller, years ago, who had used them to display his butterfly collection (no, the butterflies were not included--thank goodness!). They sure have come in handy over the years and can easily be painted. Here is another of the frames that I painted and distressed last year for a different Easter finish that resides with my oldest son and daughter-in-law in California.An Easter finish from 2019--such a cute bunny!My second finish is so bright and cheery! It is called "Easter Wreath" and is a design from Tiny Modernist. The bunnies also have white mini-pompom tails like I used in the Holiday Hoopla finish above. They, too, are stitched "over one" on 28 ct. white lugana. I used the suggested DMC colors for everything except the carrots. I wanted a darker looking carrot so I used DMC 976. And, because of a slight counting error--my carrots are just a bit longer than those charted. Oops! It doesn't affect the overall look so I just left them larger. Ripping out "over one" stitching is the worst, so I avoid it whenever possible! I kept the finish very simple as the design itself is very "busy." Just a handmade cording in that pretty shade of blue that I love so much!"Easter Wreath" finishHere are both of my new Easter finishes together--looks like we had a big party going on on Easter Sunday, doesn't it? Nope--just me and my husband. It was a quiet day, but certainly one we'll always remember due to the circumstances. I didn't even get most of my Easter decorations out this year--it felt like too much of a chore for some reason. I've been gradually learning that now is the time to cut yourself some slack--be kind to others, but also to yourself. These are unnavigated waters and no one really knows what the next day will bring...I absolutely love the pretty teal blues in these two finishes!I also got a very sweet Easter card from my friend, Gabi, in Germany. She knows how much I love stitched bunnies (or any bunny, really!) so she made me this lovely card. Thank you so much, Gabi--I always love hearing from you and being the recipient of your pretty stitching!Easter card stitched by my friend, Gabi, in Germany!Much of my Easter seemed to be spent on the phone reminiscing with my mom, exchanging old photos via text with my siblings, and looking through old photos. The photos below brought back such wonderful memories of times with my three boys--dyeing eggs, hunting for baskets, and making a bunny cake each year. Oh, I miss those days so much. These were all taken in the late 80s / early 90s as you can probably tell by all the red and blue. I think, back then, clothing designers only made boys' clothes in combinations of red and blue! It's so nice how things have evolved. And yes--they all have the same haircuts--courtesy of my husband. He sure saved us a ton of money through the years by cutting the boys' hair until they became teens. He even cut my hair when it was longer--not sure if I trust him to cut it at this shorter length, though! What are you doing about your hair? Trying to cut it yourself, getting a loved one to cut it, or just letting it grow? And we won't even talk about the hair coloring issue--yikes! By the time this is over, I'm going to have a very wide "skunk" stripe where my hair is parted, that's for sure! Time to let it go gray? I also made a couple of masks for myself and my husband. Oh, dear! I am really not good with a sewing machine... The first one took me two hours to create, and, although the second one was easier--I do struggle! I used one of my husband's old shirts for the green checked one (mine) and a piece of quilting cotton for my husband's. They are "okay"--mine is a bit too loose around the sides. I found another tutorial that might work better for small heads on YouTube so I might give that one a try this weekend. Wish me luck!My two masks--pretty good, but I need more practice!Comfort foods still seem to be appearing on the menu at my house and I found this delicious recipe for apple crisp right here. When I make it again, I'm going to try about 3/4 as much sugar and maybe even take it down to half as much. It was plenty sweet! We enjoyed this as our Easter dessert (and for the next two nights, too!). Have you been whipping up any tasty comfort foods during this lockdown period?Do the apples make this a health food--ha ha!! Watching old television shows seems to be comforting to me right now, too. My husband and I have started watching an episode of Cheers (on Netflix) each night before we go to bed--a light, fun show that doesn't upset us or keep us awake. Honestly, I think we've both been sleeping better lately... And I've begun watching Downton Abbey again from the very beginning. You see, I never watched the final season, so I decided to begin all over again. I absolutely love it-- and I really think I'm picking up on so much more of the dialogue than I did before. The Dowager Countess's (Maggie Smith's) lines are just so delightful, aren't they? "Edith, you are a Lady, not Toad of Toad Hall!" ~ "What is a weekend?" ~ "Every woman goes down the aisle with half the story hidden." I could go on an on! And the scenery, the dresses, the jewels--sigh... All so well done. I still haven't seen the movie, but plan on watching it after I finish the series. Anyone else have any comfort watching television shows to recommend? So, how many of you have talked to friends or family using Zoom? I had a Zoom get-together with my three sisters-in-law (on my husband's side) on Tuesday and, after some initial difficulties connecting on my end, I thoroughly enjoyed seeing their faces and catching up with them. They live in Indiana, Ohio, and Connecticut so we rarely see each other anyway. We already have plans to meet this way every other week. At the end of our session, the following question was posed to us so I've decided to use that as my "Getting To Know You" inquiry this week: "Have you found a "silver lining" in this period of being confined to your home?" In other words, few love being stuck at home, but is there something nice in it that you've discovered? For me, that answer is easy! Yes! I've discovered that my husband and I can live together happily and quite easily (other than the occasional disagreement) after he retires. I was truly worried about that, as I was so used to being home alone, but--so far, so good! How about you?Giveaway Time... I haven't had a giveaway in a while... so how about the chart for this lovely red house sampler? It is simply two pages removed from a magazine (sorry, I don't know which one) and if more than one person wants it, I will draw a name. All you have to do is: 1) mention in your comment that you specifically want to be entered in the giveaway, 2) answer the "Getting To Know You" question above, and 3) include your email address if I don't already have it. You may enter until April 29th, 2020 and then I'll pick a winner and announce it on my next post. The chart will be folded and mailed in a legal sized envelope to save money on postage. Good luck to all! If you are interested in winning this pretty red house sampler chart, see above!I'll leave you with what, to me, has always been a sign of hope and comfort each time it blooms. This orchid was given to me when my father died on October 31, 2014 and it still blooms almost yearly. Each time it blesses me with these beautiful white and fuchsia blossoms, I think of him and feel like he's visiting me. And this year, that feeling is especially needed and meaningful. It's an absolute perfect time for it to be blooming with all the worries and unrest swirling around us these days, isn't it?This special orchid always brings me comfort...So, more of the same for a while--at least here in Pennsylvania. We are shut down until at least April 30, probably longer. The hardest part for me in this whole thing is being unable to visit my mom--I miss her so much. It is extremely lonely for her having no family https://www.patternspatch.com/1/bunny-stitching-as-the-days-slowly-pass/ https://stitchingdream.blogspot.com/2020/04/bunny-stitching-as-days-slowly-pass.html

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miraculous-nights · 8 years ago

Text

Supervillians

Title: Chapter Five

Summary: Marinette was kidnapped when she was 6 and her cage was next to a boy in a similar situation. Tikki and Plagg renamed them to be Ladybug and Chat Noir, but they still don’t know who their companion really is. Suddenly, they are let loose into the world with no explanation.

Word Count: 2692

Rating: T

Note: This definitely is a short-ish chapter. Whoops, I posted this on both A03 and Fanfiction.net at school and forgot you wonderful people! So sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you waiting longer. I went through some writer’s block, so I think the next chapter will be up sooner.

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Miraculous Ladybug or any of it’s characters…

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug shouted for the first time since the current Tikki had used it a few weeks before a young girl named Marinette could be her only new friend.

A red paintbrush covered in black polka dots fell from above Ladybug’s raised fist and dropped into her other hand. There was white paint ready on the brush.

“You need to go home soon, so do the second half of the spell that fixes everything and then I’ll give you a bit of food before your dinner tonight,” Tikki said as Ladybug nodded.

“Miraculous Ladybug! How do I get out of this spandex?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. It’s called Spots Off!” Tikki began to get up and walk around for a minute while Ladybug rolled her shoulders.

“Spots Off!” A flash of pink light filled the room and Marinette collapsed to the floor. She sighed as her stomach growled.

“That’s it. Here’s some high protein granola bars. Up you go, keep hold of me and we can get back to the park very soon. Yes, we still have over twenty minutes until you have to be home, and guess what? It only takes ten minutes to get you home!”

“Okay,” Marinette mumbled as Tikki began to drag her towards the door. “I can walk, let me go,” she slurred before Tikki let her go. She promptly started to fall yet again before Tikki grabbed onto her once more.

“Nope. Eat your granola bar. It’s like you’re drunk and tired. If you puke on me, you are most definitely buying me new designer shoes. Maybe a Chanel purse.” Tikki said as she opened the packaging of one bar and stuffed multiple bars into her hands. After gaining back some strength that she had lost, Marinette unhooked herself from Tikki and rolled her neck.

“How long do I have until I have to be home?” Marinette asked Tikki as she grabbed onto her arm in order to disappear before they left Miraculous.

“Fifteen minutes, it takes ten to get you to the park and we originally had twenty if you hadn’t acted so stupidly,” Tikki snapped at her and set a brisk pace. She was annoyed, Marinette could find that out herself beut she didn’t understand the why. Then again, she had never understood the why from Tikki’s point of view. “Meet me at the park tomorrow night right after school.”

“Why?”

“Do you think I deserve to tell you my plans? I haven’t told you my plans for the past nine years.”

In the metro, Marinette almost let go of Tikki before realizing what that would ensue. Panic among the people around her, a girl showing up out of nowhere. Although she stepped out of a dark van that sped off quickly from a park that nobody cared about her.

In the train car, she let herself loose the time to the clicking of the tracks without being afraid of her magic taking over the sound. Tikki was right that her magic would be mostly blocked off as Marinette now, which wasn’t bad. Sitting in class with a pencil writing for her would be nice, but it might scare Alya, her only friend. Unless you counted Adrien and Nino, but Marinette thought she worried them because of her stumbling through words. It was just Adrien, really, that she was worried about. Adrien, whose golden head was nicer looking practically every period throughout the day.

He had a nice head, and cute eyes, she had decided. Sure they were very green, a pleasant reminder of her kitty. Chat always had to wear these weird contacts as he got older that made his eyes look like cat eyes. He hated them, but if he took them off Plagg would have done something worse to them that beatings. Plagg would have turned off the light. Plagg could have them separated and kept in different places, alone with or without lights. Being alone in the dark was the worst fear either of them had in that place.

Tikki let her off at the park and nobody noticed a girl magically appearing out of thin air. Tikki explained that anyone who saw her before she let go couldn’t see her until they saw her a second time. She was just a passing face between strangers to anyone.

Dinner was an interesting thing that night. Marinette was less hungry than she thought, and had already surprised her parents by taking so much food. It was delicious, but those protein bars that she ate had filled her up much more than she thought. Tom ate her leftovers, and he finished them quickly.

Retreating to her room after some awkward conversations between both parents about her day and appetite, she laid down on the chaise that still had dust in it. She figured it would probably stay there forever, woven into the fibers of the cloth. She ran fingers over the seams of it, and studied the embroidery. It was simple stitching, back and forth in the pattern by a machine.

She stood up and looked at the dress form she had. There was plenty of supplies to start learning and she had the computer her parents got. She looked up how to make dresses and started her first project.

After an hour, Marinette looked at what she had accomplished. It was decent, something between a dress and something unknown. The torso was there, but the sleeves were all scrunched up around where she had tried to connect them to the dress. A spot in the middle of the torso had also been messed up and was curled in on itself. She wasn’t sure how she did it, but attaching a brooch to the spot made it look intentional. Marinette didn’t know what to do with the sleeves, so she bunched up the collar and made it a bit wider to look like it went with the dress theme. Pleated sleeves and a pleated collar made it seem like a thing, but the pleats and brooch made it too much.

Pretending like the way she cut out the fabric wasn’t the issue, it was an okay attempt. Feeling happy with doing something, she put it into the corner and got ready for bed. Her homework was mostly finished, and she finished it up before climbing up to her bed.

Marinette was ready to fall asleep, but she stayed up thinking. It was hard not to contemplate the reasons behind Tikki’s methods of teaching her. To take her where Plagg was, to let her know what the place was called. She focused on Miraculous, the gym on the outside and secret… lair on the inside? If Tikki wasn’t lying about the mysterious Hawkmoth, then is the secret Miraculous still a secret lair? It looked more like a den where old friends that are the only ones able to see each other drink together.

She loved the studio, though. Everything about the studio was beautiful. The dust sitting in mid air, catching the light to make it glow silver. The wooden floor that was losing its polish and beginning to age, and the mirrors. The mirrors that lined up one wall that had her love from the moment she saw them. Beautiful things, mirrors were. Marinette liked the fancy ones as a child, and didn’t see them in the cage. Now, she understood that mirrors showed who she really was.

Mirrors carried her to sleep peacefully, but it was a nightmare that woke her up. She was in a room only made of mirrors. She stared in wonder that each mirror she focused on would lead to a fantastical world of myths, while mirrors around her showed her reflection. The mirrors started to break behind her until she turned, then the mirrors she had turned away from would break until there was nothing left but her and the mirror below her. Cracks formed before she woke.

She laid there until her breathing leveled out and she could sit up without a panic attack. Terrified about what it meant, she got up and went to her computer. The clock read 4:28 in the morning, and she opened up a search in Google and searched myths about mirrors. Her windows were beginning to let light through before she closed the tab and went to get ready for school. She looked at herself in the mirror and noticed a hairline crack in the mirror.

She arrived at school while the bell rang. Slipping quietly into her seat late, Mlle Bustier let it pass because of how good Marinette knew how to listen. She was lecturing on the last chapter they had to read in Les Miserables, just like the day before. The book started off quite boring, but Marinette was interested in what was going on in Fantine’s life before Jean Valjean had swept into her life. There was an american movie that she heard had cut out all of Fantine’s life before Cosette was in the innkeeper’s care, so she didn’t think she’d bother with the subtitles.

She listened to Mlle Bustier lecture endlessly, but really didn’t listen to the words. Marinette did what she did on the train that day. She took background sounds and focused on them alone, in order to pick out different sounds. There was a vent above her somewhere that was making a different sound than the day before, an almost breath as it blew air out of the ceiling. She quieted her own breaths, trying to make out sounds barely there.

It was just a game to her. An old game, actually. Her mom would have her sit on the ground as a child, and listen for the quietest things she could hear and describe them to her mother and see if she could find them. Then, her mother would repeat the game back to her until one of them couldn’t hear something that the other could. She played it with Chat when they were new friends and she had won most of the time.

She picked out the sounds hidden between the low whispers in the back of class and the paper rustling between page flips when students looked for a certain passage. She smiled at the sound that was just barely there, a sound she had picked out everywhere. When she was alone, eating dinner, in class, even on a busy street. A thrumming sound, beating like her heart. She had taken her pulse and measured the sound. It was faster than her heartbeat, and she had come to one conclusion. Her magic was a beast, beating with its power inside of her softer than a heartbeat, yet when she listened for it alone it could have been the only sound in the world.

She listened to the softer sound she had heard before in the classroom. I beat that was opposite her own magic. They beat in time, in turn. She didn’t always hear it, but she had recognized it before. She had heard both of those beats before, in a dark room with a single lightbulb.

It was distant from the fact that the beat wasn’t coming from her, but a person in the classroom. If he didn’t sit near to her, she probably wouldn’t have heard it. She had figured out who Chat Noir most likely was, but she wasn’t going to tell him or Tikki. Or Plagg, since she most likely see him wherever Tikki wanted to go tonight.

The bell rang, and she stood up with Alya, following her motions listlessly for a moment. Alya looked like she wanted to snap in front Marinette’s face before Marinette smiled at her friend. She wondered why Alya liked her so much, the girl who spaced out in class and could barely keep time in order.

“Alya, remind me that I need to ask my mom for a watch, would you? With my luck, I’ll forget before I even leave the next class,” she said before sighing.

“Girl, with your luck, we’ll be late for the next class!” Alya huffed before grabbing her arm and dragging her to Maths Class with Mme Mendeleiev.

They sat in class together, time dragging on yet again. Marinette listened to Mme Mendeleiev, and she took more notes than she expected to take. She stared at Adrien’s golden head nod up and down while he looked up to listen and look down to write down his own notes. Then, she looked at the teacher again, studying her expressions when she took a pause and gave a pursed look at some students in the back.

“Nathanael, do you have any idea what the answer to this problem is?” Mme Mendeleiev was seeking a student who would have the right answer, but nobody wanted to raise their hands. He quietly answered her, with the correct answer. It was a setup problem, just how to take each variable and number out of the word problem and put it into the equation they had.

“Good, good,” Mme Mendeleiev muttered while she turned to the board, “And these numbers all add up to… 273.8. That was the number we were looking for but if you would like a double check, take all of the numbers and cross check the original equation with the numbers we took from the original word problem.”

She turned to the students and moved aside for students on the edge of the classroom to be able to see the full problem. Nobody seemed impressed, but it was a school classroom.

“So class, now that we have all the examples finished, the homework is page 165, numbers three through fifteen. You have the rest of class to work on that, about twenty minutes.” Mme Mendeleiev went to her desk and started to check papers while the class started talking about the latest gossip.

“I heard that a girl was found, strung high from smoking, in her teacher’s closet. It was across Paris of course, Daddy wouldn’t let me go to such a disgusting school. There’s rumors that she was even having an affair with the teacher, or she was at least doing more than just smoking in that classroom,” Chloé said loudly as the chatter grew. “I can’t even believe it, it could make the news it was such a huge scandal. There was a scandal I read about that made super international news from America. Some nasty boys did things to their cooking class icing nastier than their personalities.”

Marinette tried to tune out Chloé, really. It was just so hard with her annoying voice that didn’t know what an inside volume was. She looked at the clock and pulled out a tangled pair of headphones to help her tune out the gossip table, surrounded by more and more people wanting to be included in Chloé’s elite circle.

With only five minutes left in the school day, Marinette fretted about what Tikki would want tonight. She didn’t have any homework that would take too long, so Tikki’s mystery activity would probably be her homework. She didn’t slip into her Ladybug persona anymore, it was helpful even if she had no access to magic without it.

She left the school and ran home, depositing her backpack in her room and telling her parents a white lie that she was hanging out with some friends. She said they decided on a place and she didn’t recognize the name. It wasn’t a total lie, but she still felt guilty.

Finally, Marinette went to the park to find Tikki. She looked around, but could only find a blonde boy with Plagg. She didn’t want to talk to Plagg, and she figured it was Chat. Chat Noir and her had never seen each other’s unpainted face, and they were threatened with beatings if they exchanged names. If they saw each other, Plagg would probably threaten to have Tikki snap both of their necks.

#supervillians #hey this is a thing today #ML #fanfic #ml fanfic #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #adrienette #writers block finally over

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