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evan-collins90 · 1 year

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The first Torrid store - Brea Mall - Brea, CA (Opened April 18, 2001)

From the book: “The retailer, Hot Topic, based in City of Industry, CA, started a short 12 years ago with a concept and a target market; cutting edge apparel, accessories and novelty items--all inspired by alternative music, oriented towards a hip and trendy, teenage market. Hot Topic changed the look of their retail settings, which are usually located in mainstream malls, and the company has recently taken aim at another special market. The new focus is on plus-size teens; an area that the fashion market seems to have neglected.

Up until this time the 15-30 year old hip and trendy young women who wear sizes 14-26 had no other choice but to shop in the larger size women's shops where the fashions were tailored to the more matronly and conservative tastes. That is how Torrid was born!

Torrid was introduced in a new, hot and fun retail setting designed by JGA, Inc. of Southfield, MI which has designed the various prototypes for the Hot Topic stores as well. To be sure of the need for such a niche to be filled, the company opened five Torrid shops almost simultaneously; the first in Brea, CA, followed by stores in malls in Mission Viejo, CA, Annapolis, MD, Omaha, NE, N. Attleboro, MA, and Littleton, CO. The merchandise offerings are clustered as "Streetwear," "Clubwear," Rockabilly Wear," and Renaissance Wear" and the stores average about 2,750 SF. Besides the "everyday" slacks and novelty T-shirts, these larger size young women can find black vinyl pants and mini-skirts, black corsets, dog-collar chokers and platform shoes as well as retro-inspired clothing and accessories. In addition to the gothic and prom dresses, Torrid also carries a full line of lingerie for this particular market. Listening to the target market, Hot Topic's Torrid offers teenagers and up the opportunity to look "girly yet fierce."

The design objective for the prototype store that was designed by JGA, Inc. was to create "a celebration of abundance" and make the setting as unique, unconventional and spirited as the plus-size young women who will be shopping here. Inspired by a "mythological, after-hours club in New Orleans," the atmosphere is romantic, dark and filled with a sense of "unbridled passion." "From the signature flaming heart icon to the curving voluptuous lines throughout the store, excessive materials and scale mirror the zest of the Torrid woman." It starts out front with the shopper-stopping facade which serves as a dramatic gateway to the store.

The curvaceous and sensuous "hourglass" figures of the Torrid customer is expressed in the hand-crafted metalwork and the backlit translucent glass glowing red. A "drippy" red chandelier and the hand blown flaming heart torcheres add to the store's distinctive sense of place and being. The mosaic porcelain tile floor sets the color palette of jewel tones and metallics. "Visually complex, layers of finishes and architectural pieces evoke a one-of-a-kind artistic flavor." The eclectic mix of fixtures, furniture and furnishings-even the armoires--add to the New Orleans flavor. The hand painted, whimsical and overscaled armoires or cabinets are used to anchor the various zones within the store and at the center of the space a large bronze metallic drape further divides the departments.

The designers added special touches to each area to create that unique, one-of-a-kind feeling to the design. Specially designed, oversized red sculptured chairs with slatted backs are featured in the shoe area. Shoes and accessories are displayed on the slatted backs. The lingerie area takes on a more intimate and exotic--almost Moroccan--feeling with the hand blown glass chandeliers suspended down from large plaster domes. Seen behind this area--beyond a hand painted wall and arc--are the individual, oversized dressing rooms which are equipped with flattering uplights and decorative chandeliers that are visible from other parts of the store. The cash wrap becomes a "focal fantasy" in the total design and it resembles a giant canopy bed topped with twisting shapes and forms.

The space is filled with a pulsating excitement that is so appropriate for the merchandise and the young clientele. In addition to the shimmering palette of rich, deep colors, the warm colored downlights not only enrich the ambient colors and textures but they enhance the merchandise display. The traditional long and narrow mall space is broken up into more personal and individual zones by the variations in ceiling heights, the tin ceilings, finials and the assorted wall coverings. The use of brocades, metallics, and jewel tones on the walls also help to differentiate areas in the store. The metal fixture system--tortoise shell like in appearance--was customized to accommodate the products unique size and length requirements.

If all goes as well as anticipated we can expect to see more and more Torrid shops opening up across the USA- maybe even as many as 700 outlets!”

Images and text were scanned from the book, Stores of the Year 14 by Martin Pegler (2003)

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elliesmainhoe · 1 year

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ellie x grunge/goth!reader hcs?? <3

Ellie Williams Headcanons: Grunge/Goth!Reader

Grunge

So I feel like modern Ellie also dresses kinda grunge, very much like she does in the canon post-apocalyptic world she already lives in.

Ripped shirts, scratched up boots, the works.

You both share a very large vinyl collection <3

Ellie and you both have very complex tastes in music. You guys like absolutely everything.

Rock from the 70s, indie from the 2010s, orchestral pieces from the 40s. Absolutely. Everything.

You own a German shepherd (idk why I thought of that, but you do)

Look at the baby 😭

Painting eachother's nails <3

Hers are black ofc, maybe ones white on occasion.

You usually let her pick the colour for your nails. (Usually a mess of chaotic colours that only work together because Ellie did it.

Goth

She thinks your so cool

OMG if you wear makeup that's pale and black bold eyeliner

Example:

You let her try and replicate your makeup. Never again.

Spilled eyeliner, smudges of powder, makeup stains on hoodies.

Corsets are the bane of your existence. The amount of times you've had to say "Ells can you fasten me up?"

You loved this fucking dress, the stupid, flowy, black, knee length dress. It was beautiful- it had all the amazing witchy, gothic, grungy vibes you'd been looking for.

However beauty is pain, and the top half was fitted with a structured intricate lace covered corset. And unfortunately for you fate was not on your side, hence the very uncomfortable position you were currently in.

Your left arm trying desperately to tighten the strings, spinning around in circles like a dog chasing its tail, but a human... Trying to fasten your clothes....

"ughh... Am I interrupting something..?"

"shut up." You grumbled looking over at Ellie who was leaning against the bedroom doorframe, head bowing down to try and conceal the amused expression in her face.

"just get over here and tie me up." You said, face turning red as you realized the connotations of what you had just said

"yes ma'am"

Black cat and black cat vibes.

You two basically are always just chilling, her doing one thing and you doing another in comfortable silence

Very cute dynamic. I approve ✔️

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petrichorramen · 10 months

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moth to a flame [1]

main lead(s): n.brown, black fem!reader

character(s): w.archangelo, a.bendetto, christianos, monroes, pauklees, corsicans, georgiana, nina, dr. theo, original character(s) & more.

content warning(s): age-gap relationships, explicit language, sex & sexual acts, nudity, drugs & drug use, prostitution, misogyny, human trafficking, slight mentions of sexual assault, mental disorders, suicidal ideation & suicide, organized crime, death & murder, violence & gore, corruption, discrimination & more.

author notes: the reader is a burlesque dancer and is very sure of herself and her skills.

You hadn't expected him to be here. You really hadn't.

You breathe, straddling the sheened, stygian vinyl floors and rocking your hips with smooth vigor, your fingers running across your thighs and torso freckled with your signature golden flecks. The apricot-led lights of Bastard’s insignia hanging from the prop behind capture the bejeweled pieces of costume scattered across the stage and the copious boa scarf dangling around your neck, veiling your breasts. There are praises and whistles from the showgoers— all you can see are shadows of faces, the burnished uplighting obscuring your sight, but you honestly don't care and nothing matters except for your stage, your dance, and you.

You turn your back and stand with the boa scarf in your hands, swaying your embellished cage panty-clad ass and twirling your hands toward the Arcadia as if allotting worship because tonight, well— you chuckle through your nose— you were all. Tonight, you were everything.

You sit with your legs crossed at the edge of the stage, an arm propped behind, and the other pulling at the shawl around your neck powdered with sweat. The jazz band drags the note of their instruments to inflate the anticipation, the ache— the wait. And still, when the article of clothing nearly plunges from you, both hands bunch feathers toward your breasts, feigning a look of innocence that earns a parade of laughter.

You carefully remove your grip with the muffler sliding down your back and down to the crook of your elbows, slithering them over your stomach once again and then over the contour of your waist and hips, the musicians belting the final interval of the song. Then, the uplighting dissipates and you nearly miss him.

He leans against the PA speakers in the far back, arms crossed and eyes riveting into yours, the alloyed tags around his neck amongst the sea of them sending taunting glares. Your gaze trails down to the brandished sheathed blade laced to his side with a red ribbon you had flung in his direction during one of your enactments years ago.

After they resigned from the Monroe Family, your latest semi-encounter with the neutral power known as Benriya, or otherwise, the Handymen was amid your debut burlesque rendition. During that encounter, you barely had enough time to evade the wine bottle that soared toward your head as an altercation broke out in the cabaret that evening, the fermented beverage spattering the jeweled corset you had upcycled yourself and the matching garter stockings. Seated on your broken suitcase in the backroom while an EMT nursed your foot after you stepped on the broken glass attempting to make your retreat, you weren't sure who you had been infuriated with on your unsuccessful opening night. When you limped your way toward the exit, using the blood-soiled walls as leverage, blue lights pulsated across your face and he saw you before you could, he and Worick under fire for another vicious scolding from Inspector Chad Adkins. His cheeks were stained and the wideness in his eyes from the thrill of combat had vanished, ushering him back to reality, and yet some of that vigilance remained in the wake, lurking, snarling, and darting.

Your coat slunk down your shoulders when stiffness left them when you met his aloof gaze, the brisk air nipping at your melanin skin. You breathed, and the grip on the defective telescopic handle of your suitcase tightened. That night would have cost you working electricity and water had it not been for the senior caregiver work you did in the early mornings to mid-afternoons. Still, when you opened the door of your townhome, there was a redi-seal packet brimmed with crumpled cash and a scrawled message which stated, “For your performance and the dry cleaners.”

You swore you spotted a figure disappearing on the rooftops after you received the parcel.

Now, in present day, waitpersons cross your vision as they gather your tip envelopes with written amounts and your mind is back in Bastard once more, the applause battering the air reaching you. You fumble, sending a glance toward the framed portrait in memory of Sherry. You could almost hear her teasing as you make a rather gauche departure and strut down the polished, marble stairs backstage. Your stilettos clack against the floor and you shift your body to the side to bypass a group of entertainers waiting for Galahad to complete his introduction.

It shouldn't come to me as a surprise. Benriya had become the hot topic of Ergastulum, hired by everyone and anyone who desired their expertise whether that be to replace the old, dusty filters of a venting system in your home or to get rid of another sleazy jackass exploiting your claimed territories to get rich quick. Perhaps the pair were the hired guns for tonight's soirée as a fill-in.

You head to the restroom since the green rooms are crowded. As you study your reflection in the mirror, you relish in the fruits of your labor for a while, almost feeling remorseful when you have to remove the rhinestones and false lashes. You wash the tacky residue from your eyelids and cheeks and peel off the colored full lace wig, undoing the cornrows for tomorrow morning—or today since it's a quarter past midnight.

You eventually decide to acknowledge the shadow you caught in the mirror leaning by the restroom door as you wipe at your stubborn lipstick.

“Not allowed backstage,” you sing, pulling your suitcase from the out-of-order stall to find a coat to throw over your corseted frame. “Disrupts and puts the performers at risk.”

It happened a few years or so ago. Some deadbeat motherfucker beneath the guise of someone’s boyfriend helping performers with their luggage of costumes and makeup lured an exhausted woman to an abandoned greenroom under renovations at that time and attempted to assault her. It was you and a few others who heard her muffled cries and restrained him until security arrived and dealt out the rest with a strenuous beating while you all stayed to console the woman, offering some water and airing her with your Marabou fans. Since then, Mr. Cristiano prohibited anyone from backstage besides the entertainers and bouncers, doubling the safety tenfold and offering his apologies, and taking accountability.

The creases in between your brows soften at the faint memory of the mob boss. He’d always joked he’d only see you around Bastard when you were there to run his pocket dry for your burlesque performances. How could you ever forget the grin on his scarred lip and his eyes smiling along with him?

Nicolas signs curtly as he does, tugging you from your brief remembrance. “I’m working security.”

Guessed right. You hadn't seen Aldo all evening, an old churlish but giant teddy bear of a bouncer.

You turn to Nicolas, a hand stuffed in your coat, face damp and fresh, taking strides until you're only inches apart, the scent of ginger taffy, Paradise mints, Perrier lime, and copper overtaking you. He breathes you in too, chest caving into his sternum, never missing the way his eyes line the shape of yours. You roll them, scoffing with a caustic smile. It was so like him to dance around and to create hurdle after hurdle, denying himself. After all, what audacity did he have, he'd say. He was just some dog.

“You need to be careful,” Nicolas begins, tearing his orbs away and gazing into the crevices of the tiled walls.

You were a neutral employee yourself. You perform in most territories which include Corsican domains and, though you weren't particularly well-liked by other performers and the occasional club owner, you were undoubtedly well-received. You never were there to make nice with their intolerant faces, to make friends. The only thing that mattered to you was yourself. You were there to dance, to act, to display. To do what you adored, to be a tease, and to get paid—and believe it, you were worth every damn rack and no insufferable asshole could negate that.

It's funny though. The bigoted public of Corsicans hold themselves in such high regard and yet the most respect and human decency thereof you’ve gotten were in Twilight-safe zones. Remarks like “Twilight-fucker” or “Twilights favorite pussy” (while still being able to spur the crowds on, mind you) as you brushed past scowling groups after another performance, weren't exactly polite.

But, hell, Uranos Corsica— as much as he abhorred even the vaguest whisper of Twights— didn't bat an eye on your works in his territory. You did increase the popularity and revenue at his businesses he must confess and you were “a Normal”—you roll those eyes of yours hard— Thus, you continued your job.

Besides, Worick, who tells people that you belonged to the sword-wielding Twilight as he does with every woman he comes to appreciate, must’ve put the fear of God in people when he paraded this around at Big Mamas. And though his habit was originally intended to protect his work as a Gigolo, with that alarming piece of information, most people were talking out of their asses when they made their threats.

You are casual-spirited and pert, not stupid. Never that. You never walking late hours alone was standing proof you were prudent and conscious about the scorn carbonating in the abdomen of Ergastulum. That hatred was why you frequently found the small number of acquaintances and colleagues you had six feet under at funerals, rather than six hundred feet under the luminous explosions of fireworks in the night sky on New Year's Eve.

There's a honk coming from Bastard’s exterior and he blinks when you vanish after you eye him again, tilting your head slightly and cooing, “Oh, thank you, baby, but I can take care of myself.”

It's the way you sigh every syllable like it's a sweet, rich glaze— practiced. It’s only a force of habit, but the gouge is prevalent in his chest.

He’d become clientele.

He rushes after you and young Marco Adriano scrambles for the mop he places on the wall, you laugh incredulously, “Naughty lil boy, don't let me catch you doing that again,” as he attempts to look productive after eavesdropping. Nicolas sees the sleek, vintage ivory limousine and there's a titled, well-groomed man in his senior kissing the apple of your cheek as you sit in the backseat beside him with your hands on his chest while the chauffeur handles your luggage. The gouge widens, gushing in the air and onto the ground when a salt and pepper-haired face and head feathers you. You smile a smile so authentic with your hand draped over his chest, Nicolas nearly staggers from the significance and weight you carry behind it.

You’re chattering about your performance as the elderly man asks you about it exuberantly and if you’re supposed to notice Nicolas, you don’t. Not until “Dear, Old” Mogavero clashes his eyes against his. Brown doesn't move to hide, neither does he falter in his stance. And as he stares at one of the most influential men in Ergastulum, his eyes narrow.

“Benriya,” He smiles, eyes crinkling and Nico hopes to find a semblance of malice or dishonesty. “I'll have to place a request for work to be done at my place sometime.”

“Do you even want to keep that house?” You say. You hadn't experienced their exploits personally but Chad Adkins's complaints and the gossip of others in the city made you well aware of the collateral damages they’ve caused at times.

He throws his head back with crinkled hazel brown eyes, a gums-and-all laughter booming through the alleyways. Some passing heads turn to look at him like he's a madman, but he doesn't care and doesn't offer a sheepish little apology.

“Just need a hand with the water heater.” He says and nudges his head toward Brown. “Can't have this little lady and the others hauling ass to heat some water for a bath, eh? What do you say? Wouldn't be too much trouble for you boys, right?”

“None, Mr. Mogavero,” Nicolas replies, his voice rumbles when he does. “But I’ll have to take it up with my contractor.”

There's a nippy silence and he sees the way your jaw clenches at the word, the way you swallow. You hadn't heard that in a while, but he hadn't forgotten the way it made you twitch.

“Ah, no, that's okay.” The elderly man clears his throat with a cough. “I'll call you when I don't have company, yeah?”

He nods in understanding and you gaze at him over your shoulder before the chauffeur closes the door. The vehicle spurs away from the cobblestone forefront of Bastard with fumes, the lights of the club radiating his shoulders and casting shadows over his dark eyes. His hand instinctively grips the red thread draped across his sword at his hips. He lets the thread slide through his fingers until it softly caresses the sides of his thighs and when he looks, the rear lights of the limousine flash when it stops at the end of the road before fading into the night at the next street.

Nicolas turns and enters Bastard once more, eyeing Worick who makes himself, leaning against the entrance with crossed arms.

Nothing but a dog, Nicolas looks away and thinks, feeling content. It's no use for any of it. Don't try to act human—

—monster.

#nicolas brown x reader #gangsta nicolas brown #gangsta nicolas #nicolas brown #worick arcangelo #gangsta anime #gangsta #gangsta worick #gangsta x reader #kohske

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foxilayde · 5 months

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22. “Look how good you take it.”

26. “Faster! Please, let me come!”

73. “God, you love it like this, don’t you?”

with sub cecil i beg of you🧎🏼

Well since you begged 😈

26. “Faster! Please, let me come!”

[Cecil Dennis x Fem Reader]

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: 18+ only smut. Sub Cecil.

“Baby. Oh fuck. You’re so hot right now.” Cecil bites his bottom lip and gulps heartily, adjusting himself as best he can against the restraints that you’ve locked his wrists into on the headboard.

You’re not sure if he’s referring to the feather in your hand that you’re using to tickle him hard or if he’s remarking on how hot your black vinyl outfit looks on you, pushing up your cleavage in the intimidating corset, complete with black fishnets and thigh high patent leather boots, or if its a combination of the two sights.

You’ve never put him in this position before, tied up, buck naked, laying flat on the bed, splayed in such a vulnerable fashion. It’s not like he needs the handcuffs, he’s perfectly happy to follow any order you give him on any given day, but there’s something about the way he jolts and jostles against the handcuffs, the metal clinking against wood, that gives you a self-assured satisfaction at having this pretty boy at your command.

His cock is stiff as can be, undervein pronounced and protruding, he twitches and leaks when you delicately trace the feather up and down his chest, teasing his peaked nipples and fluttering the feather town to tickle his balls.

“Uuuughhh” Cecil cries, bucking his hips into the fluffy tickler, trying with all his might to eek out any kind of friction.

You slap his cheek gently with the feather.

“You want more, desperate boy? Is my feather not enough for you?”

“More. Yeah. Please, more.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want, Cecil?”

Cecil whines out of his nose, his only response is to hump the air again and clang his restraints. You tut your tongue.

“Suit yourself.” You say to him sweetly, placing the handle of the tickler in his mouth like a horse’s bit. His teeth bite around it, eyes going wide and round, watching you intently as you climb onto the bed, running a vinyl gloved finger from his sweaty forehead down to his nose. You pat his cheek. “I’m keeping that in there so you don’t talk back to me, baby.”

You snuggle up to his side, thigh hitching up and over his leg, Cecil hisses and drools against the handle, eyes rolling back into his head when you slide your your stiletto boot clad leg up his thigh and over his groin, pressing your heel lightly into the base of his cock. His whole body shakes and breaks out in goosebumps.

“You like that, don’t you, pretty?”

He’s harder than ever before, you can practically see the pulse of his heartbeat pounding through his cock when you dig your heel in deeper.

“Answer me Cecil.” You pinch and pull one of his nipples in between your gloved fingers.

“Eehhhhpphfff” his reply is wet and nearly unintelligible behind the object between his teeth.

“Good boy.” You run your hand lovingly up and down his chest, making him buck into the heel of your boot.

“More?”

Cecil doesn’t wait for you to force an answer out of him, his neck strains with emphatic nodding and you take great pleasure in getting up and standing on the mattress between his legs. With utmost care you brace your hand against the ceiling for balance and toe the tip of his cock with your the bottom of your boot, letting Cecil lift his hips up into the sole of it, grinding himself pathetically between his lower abdomen and the black sole. You twist your foot down, causing his hips to drop to the bed and a breathy whine to hiss between his teeth.

“Hold still.” You command. Cecil is a good boy, for now, and doesn’t move his hips, but he does flex his fingers in a subconscious grabby motion. His cheeks are so pink now and you just want to bend down and kiss him on the red patchy flush spreading over his chest and face. He doesn’t buck up any more, you press your foot down firmly, and hold still for a moment before slowly dragging the sole up and down the length of him, occasionally pressing the point of the stiletto to the base of his shaft when the angle is right.

It’s precarious fucking work; balancing on one stiletto booted leg and jerking off your lover with the other, standing on a mattress. Thank god you have a steadying grip on the ceiling.

Cecil moans something indecipherable behind the bit of the handle.

“What’s that, pretty baby, what do you want?”

The phrase is garbled nothingness with his mouth restrained the way it is, and after a few pathetic attempts of his, you decide to practice benevolence and tell him to, “spit it out!”

He spits out the handle and gasps gratefully before whining, “Faster! Please let me come!”

There are fucking tears welling up in Cecil’s eyes and you decide to take pity on your pretty boy, he’s suffered quite enough with your teasing.

You lift your pointed patent black boot off of Cecil’s cock and fold down to your knees between his legs. You extend a shiny gloved hand to Cecil’s mouth. “Spit.” You command.

He breathes brokenly for a few beats, Adam’s apple bobbing— exhausted, before lifting his head and spiting into your palm pitifully.

“Good boy” you smile, he hums at that, letting his head fall back, and when you wrap your hand around his cock, using his own spit to stroke him firmly with the slippery glove, twisting your wrist up and down, Cecil shivers in appreciation.

He’s unrestricted from his vocalizations now, bucking his hips into your grip, profuse adoration spilling out of his lips, “thank you thank you thankyou ohh fuck ahhh ahhhhh!” When Cecil cums, you point his tip towards his chest, creamy white ropes spurt onto his abdomen. You squeeze him from base to tip in your slick gloved fingers, forcing every last drop out of his weeping head.

He shivers in relief, panting out of his pretty lips, eyes going dumb and blinking heavily at you, watching with dumb sated curiosity as you spread his slick semen all over his belly with your gloved hand. He knows what’s coming when you bring your fingers to his mouth, his chin already tipped open in anticipation. He sucks and licks your glove clean, clanking against his restraints once more when he attempts to follow your hand with and eyes-closed sucking motion like a baby searching for a nipple.

“You’re such a good boy, Cecil.”

He grins almost drunkenly, going slack against the restraints, a little streak of his own cum on his chin, “I’m your good boy.”

#Cecil Dennis x Reader #Cecil Dennis x You #Revenge for Jolly fanfiction #smut #oscar isaac characters

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vulpinesaint · 3 months

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by the way. gravity by maura o'connor.

Gravity by Maura O’Connor

Today I am fragile pale twitching insane and full of purpose.

I’m thinking of my lover: my soft hips pressing his coarse belly my tongue on a salmon nipple, his hand buried in my thick orange hair the telephone ringing.

I’m thinking we tend our illnesses as if they are our children: fevered screaming demanding attention and twenty dollar bills, hours we could have spent making love with the television on.

Faith is a series of calculations made by an idiot savant. I’m in love. I’m alone in this city of painted boxes stacked like alphabet blocks spelling nothing.

There are things I know: trees don’t sing birds don’t sprout leaves the sky never turns to wine roses bloom because that’s what roses do, whether we write poems for them or not.

I concentrate on small things: ivy threaded through chain link, giveaway kittens huddled in a soggy cardboard box, a fat man blowing harmonica through a beard of rusty wires brown birds chattering furiously on power lines.

I try not to think about lung cancer, AIDS, the chemicals in the rain; things I can’t imagine any more than a color I’ve never seen

My heart is graffiti on the side of a subway train, a shadow on the wall made by a child. Nothing has been fair since my first skinned knee I believe death must be.

I cling to love as if it were an answer. I go on buying eggs and bread, boots and corsets, knowing I’ll burn out before the sun.

I’m thinking of the days I tried to stay awake while the billboards and T.V. ads for condoms, microwave brownies, and dietetic jello lulled me to sleep.

A brown-eyed girl once told me a secret that should have blown this city into a mass of unconnected atoms Our sewage is piped to the sea. Beggars in the street are hated for having the nerve to die in public.

Charity requires paperwork, Relief requires medication

as if we were the afterthoughts of institutions greater than our rage.

Gravity chains us to the asphalt with such grace we think it is kind.

We all go on buying lottery tickets Diet Coke and toothpaste as if the sky over our heads were the roof of a gilded cage.

We provide evidence that we were here: initials cut into cracked vinyl bus seats, into trees growing from squares in concrete, a name left on a stone, an office building, a flower, a disease, a museum a child.

Tonight the stars glitter like rhinestones on a black suede glove.

In the coffin my room has become, I talk to God about the infrequency of the rain about people who can’t see the current of gentleness running under the pale crust of my skin.

I tell him under the jackhammer crack, the diesel truck rumble, even the clicking sound traffic lights make switching from yellow to red, there is a silence swallowing every song, conversation, every whisper made beside graves or in the twisted white sheets of love.

I tell him I can’t fill it with dark wine, blue pills, a pink candle lit at the altar the lover touching my hair.

God doesn’t answer. God doesn’t know our names.

He’s only the architect designing the places we occupy like high rise offices or ant hills

I know this the way I know sunrise and sunset are caused by the endless turning of the Earth.

#valentine notes #gravity by maura o'connor #mutuals. i'm telling you.#poetry

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lightleckrereins · 7 months

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If it was your job to fully standardize all costume elements globally for Six, what would you go with and why?

I have actually thought about this way more than I should.

First of all if global global standarization happened I am in favor of doing it for everything except hair. I do think that having a general concept that later gets adapted to every specific actor is what works best (and in general six is good at doing that), but I don't like when people get a very specific hair because that is what has to be done.

Aside from that. I do have some very clear favorites but that doesn't necessarily match what I think would be objectively the best standard style. And in all cases I would mix elements from different versions.

Aragon: I don't think this one will be a surprise to anyone. I love the US aragon costumes. The general shape and proportions and the peplum shape are great. Also details like the peplum being made out of multiple panels which makes the cutouts on the entire costume go on the same direction and the narrower front gap create a nicer shape. But also this costume is a masterclass in fitting different bodytypes (shoutout to the JKNYC team) there have been multiple small adaptations made to the costume so it looks flattering to the wearer without changing the look. Boots are US style too (sort of, more on that at the end) the taller boots with two wide straps are a great match for the short but big costume and in general I prefer a variety of boot designs. But UK costumes have better accesories. The black trim on the chains adds some needed depth to the otherwise solid gold panel. And the crown having longer spikes in the middle on the back band gives it better proportions than the US crowns (crowns in depth analysis in here). For the hair base style I would go for short (chin to upper back lenght) and curly with the curls matching either the queen's natural rexture or how their hair would look like curled with the option of short straight hair if that matches the actor's hair type. Optional highlights and find a wayy to pull the front back that compliments each person's face shape.

Boleyn: This is a mix because I don't think there is a boleyn version where I love everything about it. I would do US skirts, they are a lot more stiff than UK skirts but the shape and proportions are generally flattering from all angles. And I actually really like the flat vinyl look, matches the lines of the skirt better. But I don't like US tops, they feel boxy and recently very short. I prefer the WE 2021 top shape, a little longer but follows the shape of the chest and the size and shape of tabs and sleeves works really well. The Boleyn (principal) boots are always single straps but I prefer the UK rhinestone pattern with bigger green squares and white outlines. This is a detail you only see very up close but I think the layering of the UK B charms works better as it has a clear layer which creates aditional volume (US is both opaque) also shape feels neater. Again I think hairstyles should be customized but I do prefer the UK style of slightly moving around the placement of the spacebuns for each actor instead of doing it always on the same place and to the front. And I would go for matching lenght and texture to the queen's like they do in the UK.

Seymour: Another non surprise. I think the UK costumes are better by far. The corset is curvier than US costumes and when those follow the natural waist it helps adjust the proportions to each queen. Also its not a secret that I prefer the bigger, flowy skirt with a small bumroll. I would prefer if the top of the corset looked a little less flat though; lower cut and more shaped cups. Also the recent addition of black trim on the chain helps a lot to make it visible from a distance. One detail I do prefer from the US costumes is the underarm stretch panel, instead of black mesh they do a stretch silver fabric and fishnet, I like the black panel, but in the current costumes where details and texture are everything it feels a little underwhelming. And confession. I don't really like the white Seymour crowns. The color is fine but it is too close to the silver of the spikes and those tend to get lost on it. So black base with longer UK style spikes wins. As for the boots. I dont really have a preference between one and three straps for seymour, but I do prefer some variety in styles and this will already have a lot of single strap boots so it is three for Seymour. As for the hair; long (at least mid back lenght), matching the queen's texture. And again figuring a way to pull it back that looks good on each queen.

Cleves: Cleves is a weird one because I don't think there is a bad one.So this goes down to personal preference. I really like the fit of the UK costumes, shoutout to Paul Aspinall for being great at fitting this one, as they are always really flattering to different bodytypes. But I prefer the US shorts style with tabs to rip off the costume as the chains just in the front feel a little out of place. UK leotard too, I prefer the wider bands and black leaning decoration as they give a lot extra texture and volume to the costume instead of just shiny and the size and placement of the chains feels better. The boots are the now standart thigh high boots in (again sort off) UK style with rhinestones and not just studs (more on this at the end). For the hair Cleves is my favorite because basically everyone gets a different take on the updo. But I dont like the red buns to braid version they sometimes do for straight hair, the long braid that was recently introduced is not my favorite but works much better (thank elisabeth for talking me into not hating this one). The UK buns or the AUS messy buns work better for me and keep the red only as highlights.

Howard: This one is in general US style. The defined shape, the lacing on the stretch panel, the wider skirt with more, narrower panels (got a post on why I prefer those skirts in here), the single criss cross trim on the chest that makes it look cleaner, the slightly loosser choker All of them work better but not all the details work for me. The UK vinyl with orange and yellow undertones looks better under stage lights in my opinion. Also the UK skirt construction with the bottom band made out of separate panels instead of a single piece makes cutouts look neater as both the upper panels and hem have the same direction (so like the new WE skirts). Boots are single strap. Thats the one that shows the design best. The ponytail is an iconic feature but I would do it in each queen's texture, not just straight and do small variations to the front and/or bangs like we've seen recently.

Parr: This one is another mix. I prefer the UK top cut, but the US details: a more defined shape to the bottom band (not as pointed as that doesnt necessarily suit everyone), trim on the collar whether its studs or black trim, and seven sleeve bands instead of six (post on this upcoming). But I prefer the cutout placement on the US sleeve cuffs. Peplum definitely UK style; no surprises in there I think the shape is better and another where ashleighcherrycostumes, the costume maker gets all the credit for the great fit. US pants for one big detail. On the side of the lacing there is no stud trim, but the lacing hooks and studs between them take its place visually. Crowns would be the US style for the side ponytail and UK for the regular ponytail (again full breakdown in here). Boots I prefer the US style with double straps but with the UK brighter rhinestone colors. Hair choose between side ponytail (following the queen's natural hair type) for curly or kinky hair and the back ponytail in US style with braids for straight and wavy hair.

Alright a few notes: I'm doing silver first because it was designed as a swing costume with multiple variations instead of adding and altering as they went like the rest of the alt costumes and it shows. And with alt costumes I need to consider how its being used. As a swing costume, as an alt costume for second and third covers, as an alt costume for first covers that also works for second and third, as an alt costume meant only for first covers. While the top construction will be the same the variations change on each case. Crowns are the same as for principal only in silver in the case of Aragon, same with hair.

In general I believe that the swing variations combo of open skirt, full cleves and pants works really well for all six and don't mind the adition of extra variations but those three are a really strong base. Also colors are a little complicated. The first four were selected to work for a specific set of covers and with a specific alt in mind so not all colors aren necessarily flattering for everyone. If it was up to me I would asign alt colors based both on which covers they work best for and what looks better on the actors.

Silver swing: Silver hasn't had different versions so top is the usual look. And I think the three main variations work well. I just wish they wore the pants (maybe without the peplum) for Seymour though. Also bring back the Cleves crop top (unless its first cover Cleves then do full reveal). I get the not making a full reveal for a second or third cover, and that the open jacket version requires a different fit and structure but a closed jacket that opens to reveal a crop top feels like a good middle point. If this costume was worn by an alt with 1st/2nd/3rd covers I would aim for giving it to someone that would get the open skirt (A/H) as that is the most versatile variation and Cleves as the main top doesn't really say Cleves to me or open skirt and pants. I love the Boleyn skirt but would only useas a third variation. And avoid Seymour as first cover as I'm not entirely sure the skirt would work with the silver top even if it is the right color. If it is UK style where the alt costume is worn for second and third covers then it gets the open skirt as only variation. So far all the boots have been single strap and that is the style that shows the design better. But if it were up to me I would give silver the US A/P taller boots with double straps.

Black alt: This one hasn't had many versions but the UK top wins, those are usually great fits. Studs on the tabs like the current top, but bring back the old style of trim on the collar instead of the crossed one. As a swing costume; open skirt, Cleves (same deal with the crop top as above), pants and add the boleyn sleeves. That rounds up a solid set. Love the Seymour skirt but it isn't completely necessary for a swing set. As first cover aim for open skirt and Cleves or pants, Boleyn and Seymour skirts only as third variation. Also the main skirt works for both Aragon and Howard, I like the AUS skirt but feels less neutral and lacks detail when compared to the rest of the costumes. UK alt style it gets open skirt. For the boots, the current diamond rhinestone design with three straps. In this one the diamonds are in contrasting colors which loos good with three straps and adds a little variety in boot styles. If it is in a costume set that requires interchangeable boot straps then switch to single wide strap.

Teal alt: Teal has the advantage that it was designed to have a variation from the start and pretty much every "main" variation it has had works well enough for multiple characters. For this one I prefer the 2019-2020 UK tops as those were shorter than the current ones and were really well fit. Old vinyl too. I like the current one but it feels a little flat without the green undertones. There is something I really like about this costume, and it is that different variations create completely different vibes while still looking neutral so I feel like there is room for a lot of customization depending on who is wearing the costume. If teal was worn as a swing costume I would do open skirt, specifically the Jennifer Caldwell variation as it is different from both Aragon and Howard skirts which makes it a lot more versatile, full Cleves (again crop top) and pants or a Seymour skirt depending on the alt. For first covers aim for a combination that gets shorts and open skirt or pants. If there is a third variation, Boleyn or Seymour skirt or the Elizabeth Walker Howard skirt if there isnt an open skirt already. UK cover style choose between shorts, open skirt or pants again depending on the alt. Boots get the current UK style with bigger squares only with a little more contrast between square colors if possible and single straps.

Orange alt: Yes I am using game art now because this is the point where we start lacking variations. I really like the fit of the UK tops (specially recent ones) as they are all great fits adapted to individual bodyshapes. As a swing costume I would give orange pants, an open skirt with a peplum and full Cleves (with crop top). For first covers aim for a combination with pants and either open skirt or Cleves. As a third variation add the other or a Seymour skirt, a Boleyn skirt would work too but I think Seymour would be a better look, not sold on a Howard skirt for this one as the lack of peplum and the clear panels wouldn't match the very detailed top. In UK cover style I would leave the pants as main variation or switch for open skirt if the alt costumes have multiple pants already, but most likely I would just switch someone else out of pants. Boots get the current style with black outlines between the diamonds, but I would do the US double straps.

Pink alt: with this one I would go back to the original look with a narrow and curved center band and wider collar. The skirt construction and closure did need an upgrade but the original top shape wins. As a swing costume I would do the open skirt and add pants (pink has deserved pants for forever) and a full Cleves. For first covers, the open skirt, pants and either Cleves or a Boleyn skirt; the original skirt is Howard already and I'm not convinced a Seymour skirt would work as the top is all cutouts in the front and together with the sleeves it would not look balanced with a Seymour skirt. For UK style covers I would keep the open skirt. For the boots I would do the current design with black lines, maybe with different colors so it looks more pink than purple, and three straps; if it was an interchangeable straps situation I would change them to one strap.

Two more things.

First: my thing with the boots. I really like the US boots' cutouts. Feels like it completes the look, but I think only using studs on them instead of rhinestones is a little lacking. On the other hand the UK Cleves boots do both (smaller) studs and rhinestones, but from even a short distance the lattice gets lost behind them. So if it was my call all boots would get lattice but with only rhinestones with a metal base in the intersections (US placement) that way there is both the extra detail and the color and shine from rhinestones.

Last: earrings. I still don't think the number earrings are the best choice when it comes to the point of the show. But they look really nice. And make sense as a standard element. So I think I would do number earrings, but also make them for the alts. Boleyn, Seymour and Cleves work for the alts as those are silver and black. But Aragon, Howard and Parr dont. So I wold make those three in silver and if possible alt colors for Howard and Parr.

#ask #six costumes

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theseimmortalcoils · 5 months

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@lilith_vampyre in a perfect black vinyl corset.

#gothic style #gothic beauty #gothic elegance #elegance #beauty #lilith vampyre #pvc corset #shiny black corset #porcelain woman

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gabessquishytum · 1 year

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Ok Age/Suggar Au

…look I know Dream is a Diva with Fashion and Hob…hes a slut, but have you considered:

Dream hand making suits for Hob?

Like those beautiful custom suits that fir like a glove and make people look just…😮‍💨

Imaging Hob in one, deepest black and then the shirt beneath it looks like stars. There are ruby cufflings. A pocket watch.

Another one. Forest green. The shirt beneath it the colour of parchment with words on them that seem to shift if you don’t concentrate on them.

One Thats silver and people are pretty sure is Brokate. The shirth under that is blood red.

There is always a pocket watch there that is so delicately carved it looks like ravens.

And then one day Hob takes of the Jacket.

Imaging the surprise when people realize No hes not wearing a waistcoat beneath it.

THE MAN IS WEARING CORSETS! Like man corsets! Do you know them?!

Have a look

https://innovacorsetry.com/products/corset-vest

And beneath that…well of course matching lingerie

🦇Anon

Have fun

Men in corsets, man,,,, I'm weak. Hob has such a good silhouette for them too, cause he's pretty broad in the shoulders. I'm really into the idea of Hob doing a thesis on historical fashion (he was there, after all) so he does special presentations on obscure regency fashion trends or the broader history of menswear in general.

And of course he dresses beautifully now Dream is basically designing his clothes by hand, and 90% of his audience is just there to look at him (if they learn something too that's an added bonus). He nearly starts a RIOT on day when he slips out of his suit jacket and everyone can see his waist cinched in and his torso accentuated by the corset. And he starts wearing them more, since they're so popular! Dream makes them from leather or vinyl, or occasionally in a softer canvas so Hob can actually bend over to pick his pen up if he drops it 🤣

The pocket watch is also an amazing addition. Only the best accessories for the Dream King's beloved pet <3

#🦇 anon #the sandman #dreamling #sugar daddy au

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pollyslost · 1 month

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Polly chained to the wall.

#pollypix #ball gag #cuffed #thigh boots #chains #black vinyl corset #steel restraints

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godkilller · 5 months

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𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂 :

COLOR. —— red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, black, white, teal, silver, gold, grey, lilac, metallic, matte, royal blue, strawberry red, charcoal grey, forest green, apple red, navy blue, crimson, cream, mint green, magenta, pastels, bubblegum pink, blood red, ivory.

ELEMENTAL. —— fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

BODY. —— claws. long fingers. fangs. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape-shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

WEAPONRY. —— fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison. venom. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katana. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles.

MATERIAL. —— gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

NATURE. —— grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

ANIMALS. —— lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. pigeons. centaurs.

FOOD & DRINK. —— sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. pomegranate. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

HOBBIES. —— music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. fiddle . cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

STYLE. —— lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar. no makeup.

MISC. —— balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. ripe. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirror. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. laughter. screams. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. stories. drugs. kindness. love.

tagged by: i stole it tagging: @dokuhai, @keikakudori, @owabisuru, @madestars, and you!

#[ roleplay meme ]#long post /#ayooo.

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an7el · 2 months

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a tranquil veil of unordinary serenity descends upon the voxtek headquarters this time of night; all filming has concluded and cameras have been turned off, screens have flickered to black and cellphones have ceased to chatter & sing songs of something, anything, remotely relevant. the staff ( the majority, at the very least ) have long receeded to their rooms or offices or homes; frankly, angel dust has not the slightest idea of where ( or how ) the crew behind the cameras, the sinners liable for the smooth & stable performance of the technicalities of voxtek's operation spend their afterhours. angel dust passes through the warped & ludicrously pristine corridors of voxtek enterprises with a rush to his stride, vinyl bodysuit still clinging to white-furred physique from hours spent on set, manicured fingertips typing haphazardly an apologetic message to the blonde-haired, doll-faced founder of the hotel, explaining his absence through vague clarifications & unnecessary emoticons. abruptly, a collision of his frame into another, alike a wall in the midst of his path, that knocks the cellphone out of lithe hands and sends the sinner stumbling backwards by a step, two. roseate gaze shoots upwards, brows knit together in startled scorn; albeit, it is the sight of familiar, monocular features, upon which a toothy simper stretches across angel dust's facade: " dreamy ! whacha' doin' here this late ? recordin' ya' lil' .. guitar solos, hmm ? " his words bear within them a purr, a velvety thrum, as snowy hands adjust the stifling corset top the svelte frame has been squeezed into. " yanno, ya' gotta' play for me sometime, no ? stringin' ya' lil' guitar .. y'must be good with y'fingers .. " ..

@mu5e says, you have no idea what you're doing to me.

a shrewd merriment thaws across angel dust's features upon the dream demon's unheralded confession, spilled into silence a precious insight into the demon's psyche to which the spider now clings; it is naught new nor startling, to have the blame for immoral feelings and lascivious thoughts stapled upon him by men and women and any unliving sinner alike, to have such an admittance of truth uttered out like a deplorable confession to a priest. thus, head cocks to a side and a snide simper tugs on the corners of angel dust's gleamy lips, a brow arched & topmost arms folded across one another atop his chest. what is he, if not desired ? if not lusted after & chased ?

" oh, y'think so, dreamy ? " click-click-click, heeled boots sing a surefooted, languid melody against the polished floor, as the spider gradually invades the overlord's presence. " y'think i can't see ya' .. lookin' ? " hushed tone sinks into a silken purr, susurrations like ribbons of silk trickling from the spider's curved mouth as a hand lifts & a pointed fingertips traces unhurriedly, evenly down the midst of the overlord's clothed chest, lithe frame gliding closer to his, " y'should come by the set sometime, yanno' .. lotsa' things you could see there. " kittenish suggestions, tantalizing, a razor-toothed grin splitting the sinner's countenance.

#this .. got so unbelievably long lmao idk how i had so incredibly much to say about this sorry #he's also fully expecting ur boy to pick up the phone for him sorry #no clue what the vibe is between these two but angie says it's hot so #FT. MU5E.#ᴵ̲ⱽ̲，⁾ * TXTL: ... INTERACTION.

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orbicularia · 1 year

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aesthetic.

what are your muse’s aesthetic? BOLD any which apply to your muse.

isabella sanchez.

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. acid.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. flexible. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk.velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. latex. spandex.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electric guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash.coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sun glasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. flannel.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.

Tagged by: not tagged by anyone, just found this on one of my other blogs and wanted to do it

Tagging: @driptape, @lullcbies, @luhstories !!

#𝔦𝔰𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔞 𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔷.#i love my baby isa

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amarantine-amirite · 4 months

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Ripple Effect

Eleanor was the last person to exit the school on the last day before Christmas break. Or so she thought. Two tenth graders hid in her blind spot, followed her, and then shoved her into a locker.

Those two dipshits had marked days off on their calendars as they eagerly counted down the days to the week before Christmas, the week they could be as naughty as they wanted. One of them found a loophole in the Naughty And Nice List. If Santa checks who's been naughty or nice all year, there is a seven-day grace period before Christmas where you can be as naughty as you want and get away with it.

Only the threat of getting coal in their stockings kept those two kids in line. With the fear of not getting gifts gone, both of them metastasized into complete psychopaths.

And the result? When the holiday break ended two weeks later, the school custodial staff had to remove Eleanor’s cold, lifeless, emaciated body from the locker. The family couldn’t host a funeral until the first week of February due to a simple condition known as a lack of money.

Eleanor’s funeral left much to be desired. They had the funeral in the auditorium at school because it was the cheapest place Eleanor’s parents could afford. They had Eleanor cremated ahead of time. Her ashes sat in a Murano glass vase. Other than a minister, speakers included Eleanor’s mother, those grad students of hers who never knew what they were talking about, a few teachers, and all 72 kids in tenth grade. Their attendance was mandatory.

Yolanda showed up wearing a black and green dotted mermaid dress with a high slit, feather hemline, and frilly halter corset top, a four-layer necklace with an oversize cross, fishnet stockings, and black vinyl boots. Her boobs nearly fell out of the dress and it fit tightly enough to grab her rolls of fat. She also brought her guitar with her.

Lily-Anne may have arrived in a more tasteful outfit than Yolanda, but she was definitely in a worse state of mind. Even though she showed up all cried out, she was so upset over the loss of Eleanor but she had trouble walking and couldn’t keep anything down. Adelaide had to help Lily-Anne to her seat, but she couldn’t go anywhere near her until she was empty. Waiting until Lily-Anne stopped throwing up took way longer than it should’ve.

Yolanda looked around and saw the kids pull out their notebooks and go over their speeches. Penelope tapped Lily-Anne’s shoulder and asked, “Lily-Anne, what happened to your notebook?”

Lily-Anne sat there in disbelief. “What?” she gasped quietly.

“You know, after these guys are done, then we have to give speeches”

Lily-Anne shook her head. “That's a joke, right?” she asked tensely.

“No joke,” Yolanda reacted, “It's like 75% percent of your English grade, too.” She gestured to her guitar. “I’m already covered because I’m doing that thing with Eddie, Penelope, and Adelaide.”

Not only were the speeches or musical performances worth 75% of the kids' English grades, but the school would live stream the student speeches on the internet for everyone in the world to see and possibly laugh at. The teachers received instructions from Eleanor's family to factor online responses into the grade.

“That's just not right,” Lily-Anne whined, “It's bad enough that my best friend just died, but now they made her funeral into a homework assignment? That is beyond wrong.” She then made a beeline to the champagne bucket because she felt like she was going to barf, but only got as far as falling out of her seat.

“Hey, you're lucky, Eddie whispered, “I still have to go up there and play the violin. I'm so nervous.”

“But you play the violin well, you don't need to be nervous,” Yolanda commented, completely ignoring the fact that Lily-Anne still lay on the floor. Thankfully, she just dry heaved.

Eddie blinked. “Uh…no. I don't. If my dad finds out I can't play the violin, he'll kill me.”

Sadly, Eddie had a point. He can't read a note of music and most likely never showed up for a single lesson.

Meanwhile, Adelaide had a problem far bigger than Eddie’s incompetence. Everybody would see the frets on her upright bass.

After sound waves go in your ear and bounce off of your eardrum, it goes into something in your inner ear that looks like a snail shell. The snail shell converts it into the signal your brain registers a sound. However; Adelaide’s brain isn’t connected to the snail shell. As a result, she’s completely deaf.

Because of this, she has frets on her upright bass. People who play string instruments in the violin family freak out if you have frets. They go on and on about how "it ruins the sound", "if you have frets, you'll never learn how to play properly" and so on.

The frets are an assistive device, not a crutch. It’s like a blind person having a screen reader on their computer. She didn't have time to tell a crowd of edgy strangers to stop fretting about frets.

As the event progressed, Adelaide realized she didn’t have much to be concerned about as she thought. Her classmates gave terrible speeches full of garbage not even remotely related to who Eleanor was as a person, or even how she died. Nearly all of them had read the Wikipedia page for some random court case, didn't understand it, and panicked accordingly. Someone well-versed in law would have responded to them with OK, English is not your first language, you don't have a law degree, you're 16 years old, and you wrote this at 2 AM when you couldn’t sleep, shut up.

Only one kid didn’t do this. Kevin somehow thought the funeral was a theater audition. Nobody knows what kind of play he was auditioning for as his “audition” consisted of juggling invisible fruits.

The other thing you could do for this assignment was a musical performance. Only 11 kids took this route. The five solo performances, duet, and quartet were slightly better than the speeches, but not much. The bulk of the kids couldn't sing, nor could they play instruments. They all played either “My Heart Will Go On” or “Over the Rainbow”

Yolanda, Eddie, Adelaide, and Penelope took the stage. Had Eddie worn something better than denim shorts and a tuxedo T-shirt or Yolanda‘s outfit had been less ostentatious and fit better, they would’ve looked exactly like a Celtic Woman knockoff.

They played “Eternal Flame” by The Bangles. Or at least, just Yolanda and Adelaide did. It became obvious that Eddie couldn’t really play the violin. Penelope gave him a bad time.

Penelope shot Eddie a glare comparable to a cat who wants his litter box cleaned out. "It's not that hard, Eddie. C, D, and G," she uttered with an edge of disgust, her frustration evident.

She glared as Eddie continued to watch SpongeBob SquarePants on his phone. "Your father said you played beautifully,” Penelope barked, “What gives?" Her patience with Eddie wore thin.

Eddie's eyes darted around. He quickly realized that this was the moment everyone could see through his lie.

Out of nowhere, Adelaide uncorked this hilarious rap during the bridge:

death blow

when someone blows you up, it's not you

it's something else entirely, like puking on the laundry

death blow, we're gonna miss the death blow

I'm a soft banana, yo

please to make me feel like something

feel like absolutely nothing

what the hell was that?

You’d be forgiven for not understanding why Adelaide decided to do that. It probably didn’t matter. Only a handful of people reacted to it.

The drama teacher shrugged his shoulders and mouthed "What?" The chemistry teacher looked down at his hip flask and wondered what the hell he just drank. One of the parent chaperones tried not to laugh. The superintendent shook her head. What the hell was that, indeed.

Everybody else either felt excruciating emotional pain because someone so young had died so suddenly or felt fed up with being force-fed blustery rhetoric interspersed with awkward renditions of so-called “important” songs like "My Heart Will Go On" and "Over the Rainbow".

Thanks to Kevin's disastrous “audition”, the video of the funeral went viral. Some record executives saw the music performances. By some miracle, the duo and three of the soloists got signed to a record label. As for Yolanda and Adelaide, they got the opportunity to write the theme song for the next James Bond movie.

@lyralit

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #Short story #Short fiction

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willeminas · 4 months

Text

( bold what applies to your muse, italicize if there's potential )

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees.bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sun glasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup.

#﹙ development. ﹚

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