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too-many-tildes · 3 months

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Too Many Tildes' Amazing Isekai Adventure, Chapter 1

(I'm going to regret this.)

My name is Too Many Tildes. I have dark, navy blue plating with white eyes and light blue tildes underneath them (hence my name~) My gamer headset is shaped like cat ears and I wear a fluffy pink feather boa with a very fashionable cyan tank top and night-sky themed pants. My nail extensions are painted red just like my :3 face and my feet are shaped like high heels. This is the start of my story.

It was a cycle like any other. I was admiring my collection of Catboy Pebbles images (A.N. if u dont know who that is get da rubicon outta here!!!!) Suddenly my homosexual overseer alerted me to something funny happening outside. I looked through the feed and saw... A METEOR!!!?????? And it was SHAPED LIKE A TRAIN?!?!??!!? And it was headed STRAIT FOR MY CAN!!!!!1!1!1!111!!1!11! I gasped right before the train struck me, exploding me into one billion pieces!!!11!! The world was going dark around me as my chamber shattered and I fell down. The last thing I remember seeing was flames surrounding my structure and the bright, beautiful sky.

~ ~ ~

"Hey! Listen!"

I groaned and opened my eyes. Omg!!!! I'm alive?!!?!?? I glanced next to me and saw... my overseer????

"Get up, catboi," it said, turning all different colors of the rainbow. I decided to just lay there instead until its feelers tickled my face.

"Hey~ Stop that~" I said, shooing the overseer away with my hand, but it just teleported to the other side of me.

"You can't sleep on the dirt in the middle of the forest," it said firmly. Forest? I sat up and looked around. Sure enough, I was surrounded by trees!!! But I also noticed... MY CLOTHES WERE GONE!!!!!1!!!!1111! I wasnt naked tho, just wearing horrible peasant clothes. BUT I DIDN'T HAVE P[ATNS!! All I had on wad a plain white cloak.

"Where da rubicon am I, oveseer~?" I asked. The overseer rolled its eye at me.

"Rude. I'm Ounce the Overseer. We're in the Iakesi forest," it explained. Iakesi forest? Id literally never heard of such a place. Though the name kinda sounded familiar...

My thoughts were interrupted by the rustling of the bishes. I stood up quicjkly, which was weird considering Id never stood on my legs before. It came so naturally to me for some reason. Three orange lizards emerged from the bushes, grinning at me. I hadnt realized until now how big they actually were.

"Oh shit, yellow lizards!" Ounce shouted and darted onto my shoulder. I thought they were ornage but whetever. They were wiggling their antennae s they approached me, and openned their mouths. Lizards weren't supposed to be this active, were they?

"Tildes you have to run the other way NOW!!!!!" Ounce yelled in my ear. I didn't know what tghe lizards would do to me but I wasn't going to stick around to find out. I turned tail and ran in the other direction. The leaves crunched underfoot and the trees blurred past me as I ran.

"This is just like that hit game PSMD!" Ounce said as I sprinted. I didn't know what the heck it was talkin about.

Suddenly I tripped and went tumbling down a slope I didn't even see. The foliage scraped against me as I flailed around. Then I collided with something metal with a loud BONK followed by an "oof!"

I locked up from my faceplant and saw purple?!??

"Ouch..." said the purple. I scrambled away and saw the purple was ANOTHER ITERATOR!!1!!!!111! I must have crashed into him and knocked him to the ground.

"Omigosh~! I'm sorry~!!! R u ok~???" I said quickly. The other iterator sat up and looked at me. He had funny asymetrical antennae and soft pastel eyes so beautiful I could get lost in them~

"I'm alright, I think..." He brushed some leaves off his rumpled dress. It was a really cute dress, tan with red rose patterning all over it and frills at the end of the sleeves. He was wearing an apron over it, with a cute little bow tied at the back.

"Stop staring," Ounce hissed in my ear. But where else would I look?

"What about you?" He asked. "You crashed right into me. Are you alright?" His voice sounded so soft and concerned.

"Um~! Ya~!! Just fell off a cliff running away from lizards haha~" I stuttered. The iterator gasped.

"Oh! Are you sure you aren't injured or anything?" He stood up and helped me stand as well. I blushed when he took my hand.

"I'm fine~ Just as fine as you~" I said smoothly, winking. One of Ounce's feelers slapped its eyeball. He seemed to freeze for a moment, eyes wide as he stared at me. No doubt flustered by my charming pick-up line.

"O-kay..." he said slowly, letting go of my hand quickly. He bent down and I noticed a woven basket tipped over on the ground. He must have dropped it when I crashed into him. Scattered all around it are... SHROOMS????? Omgosh, had I just bumped into a DRUG DEALER?!?1/!?!?

"Why do u have shrooms~!?" I blurted out. He flinched at my words, but looked up at me with confusion.

"W-what? Oh, I was gathering wild mushrooms. They grow around this time of year," he said, gingerly picking one up and placing it in the basket.

"They aren't drugs, Tildes, they're just mushrooms," Ounce whisper-yelled in my ear. I batted it away from my shoulder because it was being seriously annoying rn.

"Oh no~! I'm sorry I caused u to spill them~ Do u need help~?" I crouched down to help pick up the mushrooms but he quickly shook his head.

"No no, it's fine! It's okay!" He said. "It was an accident. I can get these by myself." Okay, well now I'm left feeling kinda awkward. I tried to think of something to break the tension as he placed the last of the mushrooms back in his basket.

"Hey~ I never got ur name~ I'm Too Many Tildes~" I said. He looked at me a little funny, but I couldn't figure out what he was feeling.

"I'm Nothing Well-Made," he said. "It's... nice to meet you... Too Many Tildes."

"U can just call me Tildes~" I responded.

"And I'm Ounce." the rainbow overseer appeared between us. Nothing startled backwards.

"Gah! A talking overseer?" he exclaimed.

"Uh~ ya~ dont ur overseers ever talk to u~?"

"No!"

"Please calm down," Ounce said gently. Nothing took a moment to compose himself, but he still looked totally freaked out by my talking overseer. "Nothing Well-Made, would you be willing to let Tildes spend the night at your shelter? She's lost, and has nowhere to go."

"Um..." Nothing glanced at me nervously. I was also reminded that UH HOW DID I GET HERE??!?!??? I THOUGHT I DIED TO A METEOR!!!!!!!!1!

"S-sure," he said, distracting me from my thoughts. Nothing beckoned for me to follow. "My cottage is this way."

The forest around us grew darker as we walked, probably from a combination of the oncoming rain clouds and night falling. Ounce stayed perched on my shoulder as Nothing led me through uneven terrain. He glanced behind every so often to make sure I was following. I liked that.

We finally came to a small copse in the woods. In it stood an run-down cottage shelter. It looked dirty, and it was covered in ivy and moss. A small, fenced-in garden was planted next to it, but I couldn't see anything planted in it at the moment. The cottage must have been very old to be in such a haphazard shape. Or maybe, it simply wasn't well-made. (A.N. see what I did there~? :3)

"You live here?" Ounce asked, zipping down next to Nothing. "How does this thing withstand the rain?"

"We put a magic seal on it that prevents the rain from damaging it," Nothing explained. "My boyfriend did most of the work though. He knows more about magic than I do."

I felt my heart sink down into the void sea. Nothing was already taken? Of course he is~ I thought. A cute boykisser like him would have trouble staying single~

Completely oblivious to my heartbreak, Nothing opened the cottage door wide and gestured for me to step inside. I entered with a lot less enthusiasm than I started with when I first met him. The inside of the shelter was small, but cozy. Everything was bathed in warm colors, and potted plants seemed to decorate every surface. A small love seat was positioned in front of an inactive fireplace, and the kitchen was so small that it would struggle to fit two people inside. I didn't see a bedroom anywhere, so I could only assume it was upstairs, seeing as there was a small staircase leading to a second story.

"Woah~ Ur place is so cute~" I said as Nothing followed inside and closed the door.

"Thank you," he responded nervously. "F-feel free to make yourself at home on the sofa. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"You got any water~?" I asked. I was getting pretty thirsty by that point.

"Of course! Ice or no ice?"

"No ice pls~"

Nothing walked into the kitchen to prepare the water as I went to have a seat on the sofa. It was a nice, soft sofa. I wondered how often Nothing and his boyfriend got to cuddle in front of a roaring fire. Must be nice~ I thought.

As I sat, I could hear Nothing and Ounce talking quietly in the kitchen. I couldn't make out anything they were saying though. I wondered if Ounce knew how strange it was for me to suddenly appear here, off my string. Nothing was also off the string, assuming he had one. Odd.

Nothing walked into the living room with two glasses of water and handed one to me. "It's filtered water," he said. He unplugged something from behind his head - some kind of long tube - and put the end of it in his glass. I suddenly realize I had no clue how to drink water.

"It's a water intake tube. You have one too," Ounce whispered to me. I put my hand behind my head and felt around until I brushed over something thicker than a wire. I pulled at it, and the end of the tube came loose. I put it in my glass of water and automatically started drinking, cooling me off.

"So~ Where's ur boyfriend, Nothing~?" I ask innocently. Nothing stiffens, and Ounce glares at me.

"Um," he stutters. "Well, he's not been home for a while. He's-"

Nothing is cut off by a knock on the door!!! OMG IS IT HIS BOYFRIEND!?!?!??!??! Find out next chapter!!1!!111!!1!1!

---

Nothing Well-Made belongs to @meatcatt

#long post #fanfiction #satire #parody #oc:tmt #this is so stupid

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ddarker-dreams · 3 years

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Deal With The Devil. Yan Hades Giorno x Reader

Warnings: Isolation, implied kidnapping, forced marriage, brief non explicit sexual themes, and mentions of death. Word count: 3.2k.

Time alone is better than time spent in the company of someone you despise.

Skillful fingers run over the wilted stems of your carnations, a frown on your face at the current lifeless appearance. Dull shades of grey slowly turn to a vivacious green where your fingers pass over. Next are the petals, which are all but gone, a far cry from the flora’s typical beauty. At your delicate touch, it’s as if the hands of time are set in reverse. Soft fibers tickle your bare your skin, petals flourishing anew, now with a rosy glow. Standing from your bed, you return the revitalized carnations to their previous position on the windowsill.

The bright, pastel colors are in stark contrast to the obsidian colored walls that trap you. Darkness, like an everlasting night, cannot be cast aside by your pretty decorations. No matter how hard you try to do just that. The lone sources of illumination in the underworld, torches or lanterns, have also earned your scorn. How you had taken the sun for granted, the natural warmth it provided ethereal in comparison to this manufactured light. Sighing, you push the negative thoughts away, aware they do nothing for you. Wallowing in your grief harms the precious flowers you create.

The onyx marble flooring beneath your bare feet is cold and unnatural. Closing your eyes for but a moment, you remember how blades of grass used to feel in the summer and spring. Those blissful days traversing fields without a care in the world feel like centuries ago. You’ve tried to recreate grass as it is on the surface, but with mixed results, and now stick with forming flowers instead.

You take a mental inventory of the surrounding flora to check for problems. These creations of yours are a reliable pastime and bittersweet memory. No matter the life you instill into the delicate blooms, in the underworld, they wither away at an accelerated pace. Your days are spent reviving them or creating new bouquets to decorate this dreadful bedchamber. What else is there to do?

Nothing, you answer the question yourself, scowling. As if on cue, your poppies wilt at the sharp turn in mood, petals falling onto the ground and crumbling to dust. So the cycle continues. Understanding the passage of time when there is no sun is difficult, but if you were to guess, those poppies were just a few hours old. While you consider what to replace them with, a pair of eyes watch from nearby.

“In my brief time down here, this would be my first time seeing such beautiful flowers.” A feminine voice praises. Your eyes widen, head whipping around to find the source of the words. In front of your canopy bed stands a wispy figure. It takes the faint form of a human being, though lacking color and partially transparent.

It takes a second of tentative thought for you to realize what this apparition is. A soul. Not just any soul, a soul of a mortal, you presume. You haven’t spoken to a mortal in some time now. How did a soul manage to find its way to you, hidden away in the depths of the underworld’s palace? As if sensing your bewilderment, the soul speaks up.

“Is it true that I am speaking to the daughter of Demeter?” The soul questions. You nod, pushing down the agony of hearing your dearest mother’s name. “Then it seems I have hope after all.”

Silence settles in after the soul’s relieved statement. You take the time to contemplate the possible meaning of this soul’s words, reaching no conclusions. “How is it that you’re here?”

“... You will not call on his guards?”

Biting your bottom lip, you swallow down the bile that threatens to rise in your throat at the passing mention of him. “I will do no such thing.”

“Then lend me your ear for but a moment,” the soul’s voice is tinged with melancholy. “I am dead now, yes, but I was once alive. At that time I was Sotiria. I mothered three children, each splendid in their way, the lights of my life... I do not say this for complaining’s sake but to offer perspective. I never was given a decent lot in life, the child of a sickly widow whose face I can no longer remember.

Poverty was all I knew until I drew my final breath. I took work equally as it came, whether it was working the fields or being a companion to men at night. Anything for the sake of feeding three hungry mouths. But it was never enough. My youngest, Cyril, fell ill. To keep him alive I had to be by side at all hours. And so it goes… at my wit’s end from starvation, I had no choice, you must understand.”

Sortiria’s voice grows weaker, barely reaching your ears as she finishes her sentence. “I coveted, and I stole. Nothing more than I would need to keep my children alive for another day. When they caught me, well,” she motions to her phantom-like form with a pained smile. “I was killed.”

Your heart aches at her plight. “How terrible...”

“Yes, I’d agree so,” she doesn’t linger on the topic, eager to move to her final point. “But it need not end this way.”

“There is a reason I stand in your presence now. I heard rumors, waiting among the listless souls for Charon to ferry us to judgment. Rumors that gave me hope where I had none. That the god of the underworld had taken a wife, a wife who boasts a compassionate heart. You, [First].”

The pieces she’s presented you with fall into place. Your lips part, the world around you spinning, as Sotiria presents a final plea. “Please, go to him and ask that I may return to my body. That I may return to my children. Us humans have taken to praying to you for mercy when knocking on death’s door. I implore you, hear my prayer now.”

“I will not speak to him, no, I refuse to speak to him. Even if I did as you asked, who is to say he will listen to me? My cries for freedom have been denied, how would this be any different? I hear your prayers but have no power to answer them. My matrimony did not make me the goddess of the dead.”

Neither of you dares to mention Giorno by name, remaining cautious of what could happen, as he’s made aware every time his name is spoken. Even the mortals fear him, you think. And for good reason. You wonder if that’s how this was presented to the humans. A requited romance between the daughter of Demeter and Giorno, a union that gives hope to those dying. None of them know the truth, that you’re forced to remain here, tucked away from the wistful life you once had. That his self proclaimed adoration is nothing but suffocating and self-serving.

“You and you alone are the apple of his eye,” Sotiria insists with utmost urgency. “He will heed your words more than anyone else’s.”

“He has refused me everything of value that I have begged for.” The words are spat out with venom. You fail to notice that with your growing temper, the flowers you tended to prior shrivel up at unprecedented speed, a reflection of your distraught emotional state. Your chest heaves with each strained breath, fists clenching by your side until your nails pierce your skin. Does Sotiria not understand? How could anyone empathize with how the sorrow you feel? You stand in this saturnine chamber that remains your prison, Giorno the steadfast ward.

“I can not speak on what I don’t know,” she lowers her head. “But I do know this. You have his favor. You are his wife -- whether it was by your design or not -- and he holds affection for you in his heart. Go, speak to him, I beg of you. If not for my sake, then for my children.”

“But--”

“I can’t spend any more time here,” Sortiria looks around, her already faint form disappearing. “Please.”

Then she is gone.

You stare, eyes wide as a doe, at the spot Sortiria once occupied in your dim room. Nothing of her remains but the convicting call for action. Her words ring like funeral tolls in your mind, unrelenting, and weighing down on you. There’s no denying the effect her request has on you. Sortiria’s dedication to her children reminds you of your mother, who has tried everything to get you back. An ache in your chest pushes you forward, your legs moving subconsciously to the door.

She risked eternal damnation to speak with you. Leaving your room that never remains locked, you’re met with a similar color palette of midnight black and crimson red bricks. Hell flame is blinding at first, but when your eyes adjust, you catch the demonic guards stationed at your door looking in surprise. Giorno has granted you the freedom to traverse his palace as you please, but you rarely take him up on the offer, preferring to spite him by remaining in your room. When he searches for your company he knows where to find you. Loneliness haunts Giorno Giovanna like a plague, never warded off successfully until he acquired you.

No one dares question your intentions, averting their gaze to avoid eye contact as you travel down twisting halls. Your heart pounds against your ribcage through the journey, not knowing how Giorno will react to your uninvited appearance. This would be the first time you’ve sought him out of your violation. While wandering his palace, you can’t help but notice the difference in decorum compared to your room. He had tried to make adjustments to your personal space so that it would reflect a different aesthetic than the underground, fully aware of your displeasure with the gloomy architecture.

Not that it matters, you think. Nothing could make up for what Giorno’s taken from you aside from permanently returning to the surface. Rounding a sharp turn, you hold your breath at the sight. Cerberus towers in this grand hall and immediately picks up on your presence. The daunting creature lowers itself to the ground, three pairs of eyes piercing through you. A tense moment later, it seems content to let you pass, recognizing your position as Giorno’s beloved.

Behind Cerebrus is where your true challenge lies. Two monumentally sized doors that lead to Giorno’s throne room stand in your way. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, Sortiria’s words reverberating in your mind. Perhaps you are soft on the mortals, as your mother once warned you, but she was guilty of the same. Should you be successful, and Sortiria lives to tell the tale, you wonder if your mother will visit her and ask after you.

The doors open when you take a step forward. This palace is an extension of Giorno, you’ve come to realize, bending to your whims to please you. While lacking the necessary preparation to make a sound argument, you have an idea of what may convince Giorno to do as you bid. Any confidence you may have had from knowing you have his favor melts like ice in the spring when his eyes land on you. These eyes, that belong to one of the universe’s most powerful gods, feel heavy and cumbersome. Giorno nods his head in acknowledgment, a good sign. You wish you could hear his thoughts. His sculpted face is impossible to read as ever, in comparison, you feel like an open book.

You manage to force out a cordial greeting despite your petrified state. “I was hoping to have an audience if you’re not otherwise occupied.”

Giorno sits on his sizeable throne, presence imposing yet regal. In contrast to his spun gold hair, the throne is dark as twilight, embedded with rubies and numerous precious gems. He isn’t just the god of the dead, you remind yourself, but also the god of wealth. That’s all Giorno has ever felt like to you, some distant figure. Nothing more, not now or ever. His attempts to kindle an intimate relationship with you have been discarded like weeds. Now in his physical presence, reverence takes place of the disgust you normally feel towards him.

“If it pleases you.” Giorno’s voice is undeniably soothing, every syllable ringing clear as a bell. At his confirmation, you tread forward, over an expansive vermillion carpet. The walk feels like an eternal punishment. He takes the time to scrutinize your body language. You didn’t expect anything different, fully aware that he’d be taken aback by this bold arrival. Doubts in your head cry louder as you lessen the distance. That after all this time, he might see fit to punish you for this final act of entering his throne room without an invitation. Interfering with Giorno’s work might be the final insult he tolerates. You are his wife, but what respite has that granted you before?

You bow your head down as a show of respect. “I apologize for arriving unannounced.”

“Your presence is a welcome one,” Giorno seamlessly dismisses your concern. “Though, I might add, unexpected.”

Despite your best efforts, your posture goes rigid, likely playing into what Giorno designed. Your husband is as pleasant as he is efficient in his conversations, you’ve learned. It’d be a fool’s wish to think otherwise. Sortiria’s words, though you wish they didn’t, held truth. All have come to know Giorno’s affection for you through his special treatment. It’s a blessing and a curse.

“I would’ve come sooner, but I feared you were busy.”

Giorno gazes up at your through golden eyelashes, voice lowering as he speaks from the heart. “I will always make time for you.”

Is it wise to start with your true request? The clock’s ticking and you need to decide without further delay. Anxiety and regret battle for dominance in your mind, but you keep it at bay, recalling the true priority. A mother’s tender love for her offspring. There’s nothing more important to you than doing right by this tormented soul. Sortiria’s words resurface, “Us humans have taken to praying to you for mercy when knocking on death’s door”, she had told you. You were but a minor goddess until this point, and content as you were with that, there was nothing of astonishing value for you to offer the world. Creating and maintaining gardens was all you could do. Now, you have a real chance to do good, to reunite a family. The prayers offered up to you until give strength.

“Would you please stand?” You ask with a sheepish smile. It’s a simple request to test the waters and also a way to feel less intimidated. Giorno blinks but voices no complaints. From his throne, he stands, still towering over you but feeling less intimidating. You step forward, raising your hand and placing it to his cheek. His skin is cold and smooth to the touch. It reminds you of the flower petals you adore so much. There’s no denying Giorno’s beauty, you must confess, it’s almost like his face is perfectly sculpted art. You can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Truth be told, there’s something that troubles me deeply,” you confess, to which he frowns. “That’s what I wanted to speak about.”

Giorno prompts you to continue. “And that is?”

The worst he can do to me is say no, you tell yourself. He’s had no difficulty doing that in the past when you’ve begged for freedom. No harm would come to you -- any spite Giorno might feel would be directed elsewhere -- but that doesn’t bring comfort. Sortiria would be punished if Giorno believed she was taking advantage of you. Sentenced to eternity in Tartarus.

“A single request. I wish to reunite a soul with her body, so that she may continue her life that was cut short,” you rub your thumb over his cheek. “Please do me this one good.”

“Sortiria, was it?” Giorno takes your stunned silence as confirmation, not that he needed any. The two of you were careful not to mention him by name. So he knew all along? It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but you still feel disheartened, blood draining from your face.

“It’s a rare occurrence that I permit a soul to leave the underworld,” he explains what you already know in a calm tone. “[First], you know I hate to deny you anything, but--”

“I wasn’t done.” You interrupt without thinking, overwhelmed by enough emotion to drown out logic. Giorno’s mannerisms and subtleties can be picked up on after all this time you’ve spent with him, and you know he was going to politely reject your request. Neither of you utters a word. It’s a split-second decision, but you set your qualms aside, considering the greater implications.

“Giorno,” you call him by his name for the first time, his eyes widening at the slight nuance. “If… if you do this for me, I… I will allow you to finally consummate our marriage.”

Your face feels like it’s on fire from the lascivious suggestion. There’s nothing else you can offer Giorno that’s valuable enough to convince him. Nothing other than yourself that is -- which you’ve vehemently refused him up until now -- swearing you’d sooner cast yourself into Phlegethon than let him lay with you. You hear your heart pounding in your ears as you await his final response. Giorno’s eyelids flutter shut, eyebrows scrunching together.

“This means that much to you?” He asks, not entirely convinced himself. This fiery passion you’re portraying is new. Days of passively tending to your flowers gave him a different impression of you. Now, faced with a cause you truly believe in, you’re willing to do anything.

“It does,” you confirm without further hesitation. “Please give me this single happiness.”

You don’t dare breathe until Giorno speaks again. He reopens his eyes and appears deep in thought. Dread clouds your mind, dominating any thoughts that might bring you comfort. You’ve done the best you could.

“Very well.” Giorno bends to your whims after a long moment’s deliberation. Joy blossoms in your chest, a genuine smile gracing your features. He places his hand over yours, shivers running down your spine from the cool sensation. The negotiations are far from over, as Giorno returns his attention to your prior claim. He wants to test your conviction and see if you’ll give him a piece of what he’s ached for.

He squeezes your hand gently, voice so quiet that only you could hear it. “Is what you said true?”

It’s the only viable option, is how you reaffirm yourself. A degrading option, you recognize, but no one aside from the two of you would ever know. It’s been a long and good fight that you’ve put up. Denying a god his desires is not an easy task by any stretch of the imagination. Goosebumps dot your skin, reality feeling so far away, as you seal your fate.

“You have my word.”

Giorno smiles -- in a way you’ve never seen before -- an unidentifiable gleam in his omnipotent eyes.

“Then I will see it done.”

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awxward · 3 years

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A3! Boys + My Stuffed Animals

Spring Troupe:

Sakuya

Gabriel

Gabriel is a small elephant with big ears that constantly make him fall over. He has a pink bowtie that says 'I Love You'

Makes Saku feel safe and Gabriel is a reminder to himself that he's loved and appreciated by everyone at Mankai.

Named after a friend from theatre class :)

Masumi

George Washington

George Washington is a tiger. He is small, but his arms are like those slap bracelets so you can wear him on your wrist (or let him hang on the side of shelf like I do).

So I got Georgy-Boy for easter 2020. i asked my friends for name ideas. They sent me stuff like 'Stripes'. I went offline for a few minutes and when I came back online I told my friends his name was George Washington.

//////////

Me: tiger has a name now

Friend: which name did you choose?

Me: his name is George Washington.

Friend: what the fuck. how'd you get George Washington?

//////////

Pretty sure he got the name bc I was listening to the Hamilton soundtrack.

Citron

Daniel

Daniel is mostly pink but has other pastel colors that look like watercolors. He's a unicorn. And a ketchain. And he's one of those dream lites, so he lights up. (He's supposed too anyway, but he's never lit up since i got him like 7 years ago at a yard sale).

Named after Daniel Howell (formerly danisnotonfire) [YouTube]

Tsuzuru

Lucifer

Lucifer is a small panda pillow pet. Very easy to travel with bc he fits in most backpacks.

My mom told me she wanted me to have a stuffed animal with a biblical name, i picked him up, looked her in the eye and said "His name is Lucifer." My mom tried to protest. "You said a biblical name, Mom. Lucifer is in the bible."

Itaru

Pao(???)

Pao is a panda. They are also a phone holder thingy. Like it'll hold your phone if you're watching movies or whatever.

Like 5-ish years old. Got them from a friend. They have a tag with their name on it, but I read it once and then just called them "the panda" for some reason instead of their actual name and now the tag is too faded to read the name, but i am 38% sure it says Pao or something close to that.

Chikage

Tsuki

Tsuki is a dinosaur. Tsuki is a sparkly dino. He's green rn, but if you brush your hand over him, the sparkles turn over and he becomes orange. I like green tho bc his tummy and the bottom of his feet are orange and so are his eyes.

Named after Tsukishima Kei (Haikyuu)

Summer Troupe:

Tenma

Hinata

Hinata is a narwhal. A bright orange narwhal. Infact he is the same color as Tenma's hair.

Named after Hinata Shoyo (Haikyuu) [bc its the same color as his hair. there is a theme with this narwhal and the anime boys i associate with them]

Yuki

Steve

Steve is a regular teddy bear, except he has a shirt that has pikachu on it. (the shirt was originally Tsuki's bc i got tsuki at a friends build a bear bday party, but it fits Steve better)

I just think Yuki would try new designs/color schemes/styles by making clothes for Steve to see how they look.

I got Steve from a claw machine (my bf at time won him for me just before we watched Endgame together.)

Named after Steve Rogers (Marvel)

Muku

Eeyore

Muku most definitely loves the Winnie the Pooh movies and I will fite for this hc. He gets my Eeyore. You know how Eeyore's tail is always going missing or falling off??? Eeyore's tail comes off (velcro) but its attached to his actual body with a string so it cant be misplaced.

Eeyore has a patch that says "official disney store" but i got him for $3 at a thrift store.

Misumi

Sherlock

Sherlock is a polar bear. Sherlock is very huggable. He makes Misumi feel safe. He has a hat and scarf (that don't come off. they are sewn on him)

the hat has a pom pom on top and the scarf has a pom pom on each end. the hat and scarf and the bottom of his feet have a blue/white plaid pattern.

Kazunari

Victor

Victor is a puppy and the first big stuffed animal of mine on the list! He's all tan and abt maybe 3-4 ft long. Victor lays pretty flat so he's comfy to lay/sit on. I think Kazu would like sitting or laying on him when drawing. Probably has him on his bed so he's like a giant pillow.

Victor is from Toys R Us. I got him last August-ish from my Aunt and Uncle who found him at a thrift store and thought I'd like him.

Named after Victor Nikiforov (Yuri On Ice)

Kumon

PJ is a small white tiger. He is also a ball. He can fit in one hand. When Kumon is thinking or stressed or bored (etc) he just lays on his back and tosses PJ up into the air.

When Kumon is laying on the floor tossing PJ, Misumi sits on the bed closest to where PJ is and tries to grab him (but only if Kumon is in a good mood and okay with it) It's a fun little game they made up they like to play.

Pretty sure he was named after KickthePJ (YouTube)

liber pls give us a pic with all of autumn i am begging

Autumn Troupe:

Banri

Sammy

Sammy is another one of my large stuffed animals. He is also a puppy, but unlike Victor he is sitting instead of laying. He's abt 2-3 ft tall. His fur is the same color as Banri's hair. Great to squeeze at anytime, but very therapeutic when you're in a bad mood. Has a heart on his ear.

i got him abt 7 years ago. I had just finished spn season 2 and was upset abt the finale and had no way to start season 3.

Named after Sam Winchester

Juza

Tiggs

Tiggs is a beanie baby tiger. Tiggs is a little larger than PJ (and not a ball). He's a regular orange tiger instead of a white tiger like PJ. He'd buy Kumon PJ so they could have matching stuffed animals. Small and very comforting to just hold/hug.

Omi

Benedict (Ben)

Benedict, also known as Ben, is a small koala. Just a little bigger than Tiggs. He has a heart on one of his feet (i think the right one). very soft. very fluffy.

Named after Benedict Cumberbatch (Actor)

Taichi

Dean

Dean is my largest stuffed animal. He is a dark brown teddy bear that's abt 4-ish ft tall. He can be put in a corner and used as like a bean bag chair, or he can lay down flat and be a good pillow like Victor can.

It's very fun to just wrap around him and squeeze as tight as you can. Especially in when your in a bad mood. Very comforting to cry into.

I got him a couple years ago at a thrift store.

Named after Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Sakyo

Lev

Lev is a lion abt the size of a regular teddy bear (maybe slightly larger). I got him a thrift store so he's slightly worn out from age. He's mostly a pastel dark yellow-ish tan and his mane is dark brown. very huggable.

He's the stuffed animal I sleep with. Smells nice all the time, like the fabric softener.

Named after Lev Haiba (Haikyuu)

Sakoda

Emotional Support Iron Man

So Iron Man is small and he sparkles. He will hurt you/someone if thrown hard enough. Sakoda likes heroes bc they remind him of Sakyo they look cool. I'd hc that he got Iron Man from Sakyo when he was younger and its one of his most valued possessions and goes everywhere with him (or stays with Azamo or Sakyo at the dorm. Maybe Izumi or a couple others are on the list of who can watch over Iron Man.) Very protective of it.

Got the emotional support part of his name from a friend.

She saw Eddie Redmayne on a movie cover (think it was The Danish Girl) and started freaking out bc she loved him. I handed her the Iron Man and the next day she thanked me and said he was an Emotional Support Iron Man and the name stayed.

Azami

[Emotional Support] Spooder-Mon

Sakoda knew Azami as a kid. He most definitely got him the Spider-Man so they could have matching plushies.

Spider-Man is square and has little blob hands doing the web thingy. The tag said travel pillow, but he probably just chills by Azami's bed. When needed, Iron Man will be placed next to him if Sakoda can't take Iron Man with him.

I brought him to school one day and we had a bio test and all the people sitting around me passed him around and gave him a pat for good luck. We all got good grades and then he was dubbed as Emotional Support Spooder-Mon, but the Emotional Support title isnt part of his name (unlike the Iron Man).

i wanted guy in the pic, but i also wanted tsumu and hiso in the pic so you get 2 pics for winter

Winter Troupe:

Tsumugi

Phil

Phil is a zebra. He is a pillow pet zebra. Like Lucifer, Phil is also easy travel size. The bottom half of Phil is pink, so I refer to him as my pink zebra.

I just think it'd be cute to have Tsumugi with a pillow pet ok. I also thought he'd probably have has Phil for many years (since he was a kid) and Tasuku most definitely brings up things from when they were kids and shit.

//////////

Tasuku: you chose the pink zebra, and for what???

Tsumugi: its a very aesthetically pleasing pastel pink.

Tasuku: THERE WAS A DOG PILLOW PET RIGHT THERE AND IT WAS CUTER

Tsumugi: dont talk bad abt Phil.

the rest of mankai: ????????

//////////

I got phil before I got Lucifer many years ago. He was old when i got him and he is very old now. I love him so much.

Named after Phil Lester (AmazingPhil) [YouTube]

Tasuku

Cap

Cap is a husky. He was won from a claw machine with Steve.

There's just something abt the grey and white that gave me Tasuku vibes. Also, Cap's eyes are abt the same shade of blue as Tsumugi's and Tasuku knows this bc they are in love. Very squishy when hugged and with the way he sits, you could make it look like he's guarding something.

Named after Captain America (Marvel)

Homare

Ushijima (Ushi)

Ushijima, also called Ushi, is the last of my giant stuffed animals. He is abt 2-3 ft tall (like Sammy) and has a tail abt the same length.

Ushi is a raccoon thats mostly hot pink. Ushi's eyes are also pink and just abt the same shade as Homare's hair, although Ushi's fur is brighter by a few shades.

Ushi hurts when thrown/swung hard enough. Very fun to hug bc he's filled with beans (like beanie babies) so unlike all my other giant animals, he doesn't have to be fixed/adjusted after everytime you squeeze him. The tail has cotton tho and makes a good pillow.

Homare would definitely just see a 3 ft tall hot pink raccoon and claim it with no explanation.

Named after Ushijima Wakatoshi (Haikyuu)

Hisoka

Vladmir Dracula the 3rd (Vlad, Drac)

Vladmir Dracula the 3rd, who has many other names but usually goes by Vlad or Drac, is a vampire (surprise).

Vlad is a squishmallow thingy, and their tags say something abt them being able to be used as pillows, and thats why Hisoka gets Vlad.

Vlad is triangular in shape, with triangle ears, and triangle fangs, so I thought abt Misumi, but i figured Hisoka bc it's a pillow.

He's like the perfect travel size and he has a cape and a bowtie.

Named after Vlad the Impaler, the real life inspiration behind Dracula (my brother thought he was named after Vladmir Putin and I wanted to punch him for that but I was too busy laughing.)

Also named after Dracula, who was a vampire.

Idk where 'the 3rd' came from, but it's part of his name for forever.

Azuma

Sebastian

Sebastian is a dinosaur thats blue with a white tummy.

He's also a squishmallow, but he's bigger than Vlad by abt 2× as wide, so he'd be harder to carry around, which is why Hisoka got Vlad instead. Being a squishmallow means he looks more blob than dinosaur and i love it.

His tag said his name was Dominic or something, but I named him Sebastian before I actually checked the tag, so he's Sebastian.

Named after Sebastian (Black Butler) and Sebastian Stan (Actor)

Guy

Moriarty

Moriarty is my other polar bear. I got him with Sherlock and named him Moriarty bc Moriarty is Sherlock's nemesis.

He's just a plain white bear thats very huggable and adorable. I usually have a bowtie on him bc it makes him look fancy.

Guy would like him bc he's plain white and very fluffy.

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ssa-dg · 3 years

Text

Undercover Part 1

part 1, part 2

Overview: the BAU has gone undercover to find a potential unsub who has been drugging, raping and murdering women. It own becomes a potential victim. Having to play her part to catch the bad guy, you go to the party all dressed up and dance with a potential murderer all while pretending he is someone else, Spencer Reid.

TW: drugs, rape (it is mentioned how the unsub rapes his victims. the reader is drugged and the unsub takes advantage of her being drugged and begins to take off her dress), murder, sex, adult themes. if these types of things are triggering for you please don’t read. I’m just a average person who tried their best to not cause people to be upset. If this is problematic I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to be and will take it down.

Relationship: Spencer Reid x (female)reader

word count: 3,384

Author’s note: so this is my first ever Criminal Minds story. If it garners enough attention I will do more parts (honestly even if it doesn’t I probably will lol) PSA: I have never been under the influence of MDMA and honestly I don’t judge if people who do it consensually and safely (which is harder said then done). this is how I imagine it to be like to be on it. Also I like writing and I like sharing my writing because all of the great fan fics that cause me happiness, if I can cause that reaction just to one person that’s enough for me

You would do anything to save the world. Maybe it was a hero complex, maybe it was some form of glory seeking, or maybe it was the only way you knew how to fill the dark abyss you felt when you did nothing of importance. Being a part of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, helped with that. Being on the team gave you everything you needed, a family and a way to save others. Maybe saying you love your job isn’t the correct way to explain your emotions but you knew no better way. Although you wish a job like this wasn’t necessary and didn’t even exist, it did.

Your team meant the world to you and you would contribute almost in any way to help find an unknown subject. So when Penelope Garcia was able to connect the killings in New York City to some private “rich people” clubs, her and the team created a plan to infiltrate.

The victimology was specific. It was all rich young women ranging from the ages 19-30 who just moved into the city to find themselves.

The profile was an easy one to figure out. He was obviously a troubled young white male who was probably an heir of some sort. He was richer than what most people think is rich. He usually meets the victim at a high society social event. Then he’d take them to a more exclusive social event. After that he would drug them with MDMA, rape and kill them.

It was hard for the BAU to get much out of the enclosed and tight group of New York’s most elite families. So going undercover at an event where the unsub could potentially hunt for prey was what made most sense. Your jobs was to observe the women and men there and try to see if any of you could fish out the unsub.

They had done it in the past but usually they did their best work by watching and observing. So here the team was, their second night in a row all dolled up in fancy cocktail dresses at some art gallery. Tara Lewis and Luke Alves stood around a table pretending to talk to each other as they observed potential victims. Jennifer Jareau, Spencer Reid, and Matt Simmons stood at another end of the room checking for the potential unsub, while your unit chief, Emily Prentiss, and you were pretending to be alone at the event eavesdropping on rich families. You listened to those around you while also scanning the room looking for potential young white men talking to lone young women. “Ten o’clock to the creepy face painting,” you heard Alvez say in your small earpiece. You calmly turned pretending to look at the other art pieces and saw a white male in his mid-thirties walking up to a female. He placed his hand on her low back as he leaned in to talk to her. Emily being the closest nearby out of you two, moved closer acting like she was going for some hors d’oeuvres. “That’s not him. He’s too drunk. I can smell all the alcohol he has consumed. He would need to be smoother than that,” Emily whispered as she took a sip of her glass. That’s how most of the night went. We followed and stared at people who might be the unsub and then filed them out. You felt yourself losing hope. You hated this part of the job. The one that made you feel like the profile was wrong and you all would have to start over, which there was never time to start over. Someone could die. That’s when you felt a hand touch the small of your back, your body tensed up immediately. “Relax,” he whispered in your ear. But you didn’t need to force it, because when you turned to look at the person who touched you, you were met with the face of beauty and your body instantly relaxed. You knew this was a dangerous reaction, as would probably many of Ted Bundy’s victims.

The man before you had slicked back short dark hair, bright blue eyes, strong symmetry in his facial features, and strong cheek and jaw bones. He smiled wickedly at you, causing you to intake a sharp breath. It was so sinister but also so beautiful. It wasn’t the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen, no that was reserved for your teammate, best friend, and love of your life (even if he didn’t know it) Spencer Reid. Now, Spencer’s smile was one you could get lost in. You refocused yourself to the beautiful man in front of you. “They say the artist intended for this particular piece to show trauma while he was drinking. His other pieces are other emotions on different drugs,” his deep voice rattled through your ears. You wanted to unwrap yourself from this man’s embrace. How dare he touch you like that without your permission. “Play along,” Luke spoke as he saw a scowl beginning to form on your lips, “he could be the unsub.” You smoothed the scowl into a smile. “It doesn’t look like it depicts trauma,” you responded dumbly. The man before you cocked his head to the side giving you a lopsided smile. “I guess it all depends on how someone experiences trauma,” the smile now wicked, and scarier. A shiver went up your spine. “Are you cold?” He asked, noticing it, while looking you up and down like he could devour you. “No,” your voice came out scratchy as your throat went dry. You cleared it politely. “Just thinking-” “About your own trauma?” He asked. You could hear the fake tone of concern. That snapped you out of your fear. The pictures of all the murdered women that brought the BAU to this case flashed before your eyes. “Maybe,” the smile you plastered on your face was a one you knew he wanted, a sad smile. You were going to play this role like it’s no one's business because you were here to catch a bad guy and if flirting with a creep got you there then so be it. He leaned in closer to your ear, “my name is Alistair Constantine,” you immediately recognized the name. It was on the list of potential unsubs for the profile. His family’s money was old, going back to the revolutionary war. The family seemed to always be updating with the times and never losing that money. You leaned into his other ear and introduced yourself.

Spencer’s hands were clutched at his side as he watched you interact with the Constantine boy. He felt in his gut at this moment, Alastair was the unsub. The way he was looking at you, it was like you were a quest to conquer. Spencer knew he couldn’t just come up, break you two apart and blow the whole investigation but boy did he want to.

Alastair paraded you around the room. Every now and then he would talk to fellow members of the society. It took everything in you to pretend that you didn’t want to beat his ass right then and there. You were always an imaginative kid growing up so you blocked out the gruesome pictures of the crime scenes and instead pretended this was your life a young New York woman getting special treatment from a handsome man. It was easier to fit the rom-com role then what was actually happening. Alistair stopped in front of a painting that was particularly psychedelic looking with bright pastel colors. “This is my favorite piece by the artist. This was when he was on Ecstasy. Look at the happiness and distorted-ness to the art. It’s amazing,” he gushed. It would have been odd that he picked this particular painting to attach too, but it was a strong tie to the method of his killings. “Humankind cannot bear very much of reality,” you spoke out, breaking Spencer from his thoughts about if they had enough information to convict Alistair for the murders. Alistair looked at you funny, not understanding why you would say that. “T. S. Eliot” you told Alistair while Spencer whispered it at the same time. a ghost of a smile playing on your lips when you heard Spencer’s voice. “It’s what I think of when I look at this art. T. S. Eliot is one of my favorite poets,” you blushed at your admission. It felt like for a second, with having just heard Spencer’s voice, that you were talking to him instead of Alistair. Spencer was now looking straight at you two. His eyes held bewilderment, he has known you for years and you never once mentioned this, and he knew you knew this was something he cared about.

“Indeed,” Alistair yawned.

The next 30 minutes was you telling him how you’d grown up in Boston, Massachusetts, that you had no close relatives anymore, and how when your parents died their life savings all went to you (all of it true), the lie came when it was to talk about why you moved to New York City, what you wanted to do with your life etc. And he ate it up every second. You played the roll of being the lonely damsel in a big city trying to find the answer to life. You were his ideal victim and you knew that he didn’t even question how perfect you were.

The night ended with an invite to the society’s ball tomorrow night, and Prentiss fed your ear a fake address for Alistair to send a car to tomorrow. You ordered an Uber to the address where Emily said they’ll pick you up to not seem suspicious in case Alistair sent someone to follow you. Once at the address the FBI’s SUV pulled up and you got in. It was Spencer who picked you up, which was unusual, as he never liked driving. You climbed onto the passenger seat and saw his knuckles were white from the strength of his grip on the steering wheel. It didn’t take a profiler to know Spencer was mad. “Spencer, are you alright?” You approached with a soft whisper. There was a pause of silence, Spencer calculating if he should be honest. He eventually gave into the truth as he knew that he couldn’t hide it from you. “No,” he growled, the anger in his voice causing you to jump in surprise. “No, I am not okay. That man is a murderer and he was holding you in his arm! You two were practically dancing around the room in there. We have put you in danger and now, now you are his next target, his next victim!” he hit the wheel in anger. You had never seen Spencer this angry before. Most times when Spencer got angry, he got smart and he used his logic to fight but now he sounded emotional. “Spencer,” you raised your voice, “I am not a victim, I’m an agent. I will do what it takes to protect others. Just like you.” In anger Spencer swerved the car to the side and put it in park. “Dammit, You don’t get it,” he yelled and turned towards you. “If he is our unsub, which we both know he is, I’ve run the calculations and the risk is too high for you,” his hands flying everywhere in gestures, “There are too many dependent variables. There isn’t enough for us to control. The probability of you getting hurt or,” he stopped to collect himself, and in a quieter voice said, “or worse, it’s too high. I’ve run the math.” Now that sounded more like the Spencer you knew. A soft smile crept onto your lips, then you quickly neutralized your face, in hopes he wouldn’t see the way his concern for you made you feel. And You couldn’t do that to yourself. You couldn’t let yourself feel happiness when Spencer showed you affection, because it eventually just leads to heart break. Subconsciously, you turned more towards him in your seat, “In your math is there probability that we get this guy and he never gets the opportunity to hurt another woman again?” You asked. Spencer gave you a pained look like he knew where you were going. You countered that look with one that told him to answer the question. He let out a heavy sigh, “yes. There is that possibility.” You smiled at him knowing you won the argument, “That settles it then.”

With everyone back in the small conference room at the police station, the conversation began about what to do tomorrow. No one was pleased that one of their own is now the target but there was truth that the situation was now more in the BAU’s control than before. Everyone also believed in you. They knew the risk and that scared them but also you are a Special Advisory Agent for a reason. Relief did not fill you but neither did dread, when you thought of the plan. You were doing the right thing. It didn’t matter if you were going to put yourself in danger.

Spencer kept pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. Something that happened when he started to get headaches and you could guess this headache was caused by stress. As the rest of the team started packing up, you stared at your best friend hurting over the stress you were causing. You took a seat next to Spencer. He was still wearing his suit from the party. “We are going to be okay tomorrow,” you comforted him. He looked up at you, “I’m not worried about all of us, I’m worried about you,” he confessed. Once again, you knew these words shouldn’t have an effect on you like they did, but it did and this time there was something that felt hidden behind those words, something more. “I trust you not to let anything happen to me,” You countered and placed your hand on his forearm to comfort him. You looked in his eyes and tried to let him know that there is more than just trust there.

The day of the ball, you got ready in the police station bathroom. It wasn’t exactly how you imagined to be getting ready for your first ball in New York City. You’d rather be wearing this gown for other reasons than going undercover to catch a murderer rapist. The Givenchy dress Garcia picked out was gorgeous (as you instructed her to get a designer to fit in the crowd and you would float the bill). It was a long evening dress in blue and green with a gradient-effect. The top had long puffed sleeves, deep V-neckline, and waist accentuated with smooth lamé and long flared skirt. You put your hair up in a loose low bun. The makeup you did was a smooth eye with long flair eyeliner. You put a heavy amount of glow highlighter on your cheek bones and collar bones to accentuate the deep v cut the dress.

You felt ridiculous walking out of the bathroom into the police station wearing your dress. But the way Spencer looked at you was something powerful and intoxicating, making you forget your embarrassment. You strode up to him. A small smile played on your lips looking up at him. You saw him also smiling at you “You’re almost as tall as me,” he blurted out. You let out a small laugh, “‘I guess that’s what heels will do,” you smiled looking down at your feet. Spencer felt ridiculous that’s what he said. He should have told you how amazing you looked or how your beauty felt like the sun- always pulling him in and having his thoughts orbit around you. But he wasn’t good with voicing his feelings (especially in a room with his colleagues).

“We are going to have Officer Melinda Jackson drive you over to the apartment, And stake out the car. She’ll be on the radio the whole time till you are in range with us. We will be at the Capitale when you get there.” Emily disclosed as she strapped on a microphone and earpiece.

You stepped out of the car with your head held high even though your anxiety was on another level. “i’m here,” you whispered. “We are here too,” Tara responded. Everyone disclosed where each one was to you. The venue was massive and beautiful. The ceiling was tall with ornate decorations. The lighting was a bright orangish glow. As you examined the room, checking each point of your team, you also saw Alistair. He was at the bar with what looked like to be a group of his friends. Spencer not too far behind them. You walked towards Alistair but kept your eyes on Spencer. He took your breath away dressed in a tux and his hair slicked back like he used to when he was younger. It felt like your heart was lit on fire just by looking at him all dressed up. He was staring at you intensely. It wasn’t that the world stopped the moment your eyes met his, but it was more like everything else just didn’t matter. You knew you’d have to look away soon to not give away anything but you took him in for just one more second. “You look amazing,” you heard a voice next to you say. You turned to see the ever good looking Alistair. He wore a navy 3 piece suite with a large Gucci tag on the sleeve, and a large Gucci flower pinned on his chest. You gave him a soft smile and returned his compliment. “I want to introduce you to my family. Their approval means everything,” he offered you his arm. You took it tentatively, Spencer watched him lead you away, and he pondered on Alistair’s odd statement about family approval.

Alistair’s family was everything you’d expect. They were proper and pompous. However they liked you, a lot. You fell right into the role you had to play. You stood there laughing and engaged in the conversation with his mom and cousin.

“Shall we dance?” Alistair asked, giving you his hand, as your conversation with his sister came to an end. You nodded and let him take you to the dance floor.

He spun you out and brought you back in close to start the dancing. You gave him a bright smile at his eccentric action. You closed your eyes and let your mind pretend it was Spencer holding you. You followed his lead as he twirled you both around the dance floor. “Stop dancing, we can’t see you,” Spencer frantically said into your ear piece. You snapped your eyes open. Taking in that you were on a secluded corner of the dance floor by an exit door. “You are special. My family, They like you” Alistair said with a sense of manic to it. “you aren’t like the others,” he admitted. His voice sounded different. It was sinister with a tinge of adoration. He pulled you close, so close that his fingers dug into your hand and back. You felt like your brain was freezing up in fear. How many times had you been in fear inducing situations and why did your brain pick now to not work. “you’re hurting me,” you groaned trying to pull yourself away. “Where are you” JJ yelled but then you felt mist hit you, and your mind begin to make things fuzzy, “the left corner, the spray…in the flower,” you breathed out, hoping the team could hear you. You heard a rattle of commands to your co-workers from Emily. Then it went black.

Spencer rushed through the crowd to find you but by the time he got to the corner you told him you were at, you were gone. “She’s not here,” Spencer panicked into the ear piece. “I just saw a black Tesla leave, license plate delta, alpha, hotel nine, one, two ” Luke informed them. “Call and ask them to run it”, Rossi said urgently. “on it,” Luke replied. “JJ and Reid, go talk to the mom and sister, Tara and Matt split up and talk to his friends and the other family members. They have to know where they are,” Emily demanded

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss #david rossi #matt simmons #Penelope Garcia #criminal minds fic #luke alvez #jennifer jareau #tara lewis #criminal minds fanfiction #ssa-dg #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine

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adventuresindolls · 3 years

Text

Meet Lexie Chapter 3: What Flying Feels Like

(Aside: I know in the story Sophie gets chocolate ice cream and this is clearly a popsicle, but it's the closest I had)

Sophie's friend did come over the next day after Sunday school, but Lexie hardly saw them. She hardly noticed anything that day. Over breakfast, Papa had announced that as a treat to make up for moving, and to forget new school anxiety, they would be going to the County Fair every day this week. Lexie hadn't heard anything said to her since then.

Fairs were thrilling. They meant rare treats and delicious smells and rows of bright booths to hop between. Sophie and Lexie had an ongoing system where they would run around as buddies between the game booths and the ones selling pretty necklaces and giving away paper fans. But when Lexie started to get overwhelmed, they would go together to the 4-H building to look at pretty dresses and pictures of flowers. It was air conditioned in there and much quieter than the rest of the fair. Sometimes Lexie would find a cool corner to sit and read the book she always carried while Sophie found a play area or other kids to talk to.

But best of all were the rides.

They usually went for one day a year. But this year was special—5 whole days of excitement! It was hard for Lexie to think about anything else all day. She read the same page 6 times, lost a Mario game badly to Sophie, and finally went for a long walk around the new neighborhood. She saw a bunch of kids outside playing in sprinklers or shooting Nerf guns at each other, all younger than her. She only got 3 blocks away before deciding it was too hot and turning around. The rest of the day was spent curled up on the couch watching her favorite magic girl anime, which the conversation at shul the day before had reminded her she liked.

She woke up way too early on Monday. By the time Papa called her for breakfast, she had finished her favorite book again and rearranged her stuffed animals. After her usual bowl of dry cereal, she put on her favorite space-themed dress and her comfiest velcro shoes and was pulling on the car door handle before Daddy even had the picnic basket closed.

Lexie had never been to these particular fairgrounds before, but they were as bright and full as she expected. The day wasn't hot yet, which was perfect for running around. They each got $5 for a snack so they didn't have to regroup until lunch.

"What about buying fair stuff?" Lexie asked.

"You can have souvenir money on Friday," Papa told her. "Otherwise you'll buy one thing today and find something better tomorrow."

They ran through the rows of stalls, stuffing Sophie's overall pockets and Lexie's narwhal purse with free pencils in every color of the rainbow and candy they definitely weren't supposed to eat yet. Lexie only had a couple chocolate kisses, but before they reached the end of the lane Sophie had eaten six.

They spent the morning looking at every single booth and spinning prize wheels until they got bored. Having pushed the absolute limit of their patience, they made it as far as 11 o'clock before heading for the games.

Lexie went straight for the ducky fishing game. They had a giant octopus as the big prize. The smiling man handed her a fishing pole and told her to go for it.

She did not immediately go for it. She thought the duck she was aiming for—the little gold one—was about three and half feet away. How hard would she have to swing to hit it without overreaching?

"Hey, are you gonna go?" The man looked a little less smiley now.

Lexie blamed him startling her for why the first time the line went flying past the entire tank. It was much closer the second time, but still plopped into the water an inch away from its goal.

"That's alright!" The man encouraged her. "Try one more time!"

"No, thanks," Lexie politely told him and dashed away before he could try to convince her. She had just remembered that she wanted to save her remaining 8 tickets for rides.

The next thing she remembered was that she hadn't heard Sophie's chatter in a long time. She would be in so much trouble if dads found her alone.

Even worse, something might happen to Sophie, who was "not the most responsible or cautious" kid.

The crowds around her seemed to double suddenly. They were mostly adults or teenagers much taller than her and she couldn't see more than three feet in any direction.

"Sophie?" She meant to call out, but it came out as barely a whisper. That happened sometimes.

Lexie ran up and down the aisles of games and all around the rides next to them. Surely her sister wouldn't be bored enough among the flashing lights and interactive booths to wander back to the ones she had no money for. She tried and failed twice more to call for Sophie, but she doubted even at her loudest she could be heard over the thousand conversations that buzzed around her.

She was about to give up and go find her fathers—who were probably listening to one of the free concerts—and enlist their help whatever the consequences (she was pretty sure by now that Sophie was being murdered or had fallen down a magically appearing manhole) when she spotted her long dark hair by a food booth in a far corner.

"Where have you been?" Lexie wanted to be angry, but instead she felt like crying.

"Right here," Sophie's voice was muffled by a bite of chocolate ice cream, "Where have YOU been?"

"You ran off! You can't do that! We have to stay together."

"I didn't run off. I stopped 'cause I wanted to play something different."

"You have to tell me that!" Lexie really wasn't about to admit that she was mostly embarrassed she hadn't made sure Sophie, who had ADHD and was known to get distracted, was with her.

"Don't yell at me!" Sophie was getting mad.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Lexie finally relented. She gave Sophie a quick hug, which was so rare for her—too much touch made her brain go staticky—that Sophie stopped arguing. "Let's go ride the rides. What's wrong?"

"I don't have any tickets left." Sophie's eyes were wide with surprise and disappointment. "I played a bunch of games, and I didn't even win anything. Can I have one of your tickets?"

Lexie looked down at her sister's tear-filled eyes and felt a sudden sense of protectiveness. She planned so Sophie didn't have to. "You can have two. But only if you tell me where you're going."

"Ok!" Sophie's face instantly brightened.

The rides were all bright colors and flashing lights and quick movements. Lexie didn't even know where to focus and let Sophie lead the way, finishing her ice cream and chattering away about how cool every ride was.

And then she saw the swings.

It had always been her dream to ride that one. It was always more pastel than neon and it looked like fun. Just like spinning on the playground swings but MORE. She had wanted to last year but got too scared at the last minute, even though Papa promised to go with her.

"Sit here and hold my purse. I'll be back." She barely glanced to make sure Sophie obeyed before skipping to wait in line. It seemed very soon that a teenager with a green mohawk took her ticket and motioned her up the metal step. Up close, the ride seemed much bigger, but no one else was hesitating to strap themselves in. Swallowing, she grabbed the chains on the closest chair and pulled herself up into it.

She was still pretty sure it was a good idea, right up until a different teenager came by and pulled the metal bar down on her lap. All of a sudden, she kind of wanted to go back to fishing for ducks. She glanced through the crowd to find Sophie, who was still on the bench and completely ignoring her, her favorite otter in one hand and the other covered in melted ice cream.

Lexie gasped and grabbed the chains with both hands at the first jerk of movement. Several people around her giggled, and she heard at least one "Oh!" of surprise. Very slowly, the ride began to spin and rise into the air. She was torn between stomach-dropping anxiety at being so high and absolute delight at all she could see. The rows of booths looked like brightly colored handkerchief squares. The people swarmed like ants—at least, she thought, there were no crowds up here. She soon lost track of Sophie. And then she could see beyond the fair, to the tiny houses of the city itself. The taller buildings downtown looked like shiny metal twigs. She forgot to be worried.

They were spinning faster. And faster. It wasn't scary up here, really, it was wonderful. It was like everything she'd always wanted to feel when she spun herself until she fell down or kicked her legs to swing as high as possible. It was impossible to describe. Like everything that was always too loud and too bright just stopped. Like there was no such thing as feeling trapped and panicked in a crowd. Like nothing existed but her and the seat and spinning. Like she could stay up here forever. She kicked her legs, making her chair wiggle.

It couldn't actually last forever, of course, and almost before she knew it they were slowing. Her stomach dropped again, this time with disappointment, and her legs nearly collapsed beneath her when she first stumbled out of the chair and through the metal gate.

She found Sophie on the same bench where she'd left her, the remainder of her ice cream staining her hands, face, and overalls, but miraculously not Elliot the Otter. Lexie briefly considered telling her to go wash up, then decided it wasn't worth it.

"Hi! I'm gonna go ride the rollercoaster!"

"Ok."

Sophie hopped up and stuffed Elliot back into her pocket. "What are you gonna ride next?"

"The swings."

"Again?" Sophie looked at her like riding the same ride twice was the weirdest thing she'd heard that day.

But Lexie couldn't help grinning at the thought of freedom and flight. "Yeah."

#American girl dolls #Our Generation #AG spinoff #Lexie's series #my dolls #Lexie #Sophie

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gothamopossum · 4 years

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Fashion Rant: Alastor Edition

There are two characters that I find the most visually grating: Alastor and Vox (they can fight over who wins first place). But this rant is all about Alastor, as asked for by @ckret2

I love the characters, don’t get me wrong. But a rant is a rant. To preface this entire spiel, it’s worth noting that not all things that look good in real life look good in animation (and vice versa). Usually, though, the disparity between their visual appeal across both mediums isn’t that large. BUT THIS. It’s already hanging on by a thread in the cartoon. I cannot for the life of me imagine this ever existing in real life AND looking good.

I will try to break his outfit down and format it so that this is all easier to understand. Fair warning: in total, this is about 1400 words roasting our beloved demon.

Overall Issues

The Fit: Suits from the 1900s and the next several decades are looser and cut a boxier figure (I’m talking American fashion, specifically). I find fit just as, if not more indicative of time period compared to a lot of other key visual indicators (which can sometimes be shared by decades far apart)

The Color: I think we can all agree he’s too red. Too much red. I love the color red but damn. As elaborate suits were at the time, suits in that color family were closer to a duller red/maroon, with the brighter reds either being in the tie, pocket square, boutonniere, or other accessories. Borderline monochromatic suits also weren’t in vogue. More colors meant a more elaborate look, and a more elaborate look meant you were fashionable.

Too many fabric/color changes within the same garment (I’ll get into this in a later)

Lack of accessories: Although much of this is down to personal preference, the general vibe was that you had at least some bling on you.

I will say, however, that despite the excessive use of pinstripes in other characters, the one character they are bang on for is Alastor. Pinstripes were incredibly fashionable starting the 20s and I think tapered off somewhere in the 50s.

Specific Elements

The Collar & Coat

I’ll start with the collar. I’m treating this as a separate entity since I can’t surely say if it’s a part of the coat OR the shirt.

There are two options: Either his shirt has a bright red body that transitions into a dark red standing collar, or (this one is more likely) the coat closes up again at the neck, meaning there are two useless flaps of stiff fabric masquerading as lapels at chest height.

From the perspective of garment construction, lapels are meant to support and decorate the suit at the neck opening. The presence of ANOTHER method of jacket closure much higher up the neck make the lapels redundant and confusing, not to mention the fact that they’re in an entirely different fabric/color.

So to me, not only is this nothing but a glorified, decorated boob window (watch out, Angel Dust). But also a pointless one since we don’t even see his chest, but instead that thing, that shirt underneath.

The tattered ends of his coat seem to be a matter of choice since they don’t appear on any other character. So either the coat is incredibly old and it hasn’t been repaired due to possible sentimental value, or this is some thinly veiled nod to something we don’t know yet. The tattered bits, on top of the rest of his coat, are a lot.

The Cuffs

I thought at first that the bright red bits on the coat were the ends of the shirt, but then I found this reference image showing a smaller black cuff on his left hand and none on the right.

That means 3 things:

That the Ugly Shirt changes color AGAIN (from red to black) at the cuff (Why????)

That the jacket changes color and/or fabric at the cuff (WHY????????????. This makes me want to set them on fire. I can’t even find an example of a suit jacket changing color just at the cuff. That’s how bad it is. Even bad clothing designers in real life know NOT to do it. It makes your arm look shorter than it actually is); and

That the shirt cuff migrates to and fro, sometimes hiding under the jacket and sometimes showing, which is borderline a sin in menswear. Any tailor worth their salt keeps the cuff of the shirt showing regardless of the arm position of the person wearing the suit (conventionally by about ¼” past the jacket cuff at resting position, if my knowledge serves me correctly). Just imagine a guy in real life without the shirt cuff showing past the jacket – in some way he looks nakey.

So, a summary of the Hideous Coat: has two different closures (a standing collar AND separate lapels), a boob window, is made up of FOUR different fabrics (pinstripe body, plain red sleeves & collar, dark lapels, and bright cuffs), and a tattered hem.

A side note: Because I see people drawing men in suits with a lot of folds in it. A suit, since it’s conception, has always been meant to cut a dignified and elegant figure. Unless it’s made of light fabrics usually used in summer suits, like silk or linen, THAT MANY folds just means the suit is incredibly poorly made. (especially when you see the sleeve twist. That is the worst offender. Why waste gasoline when you can use that suit jacket to start the fire instead).

The Shirt

Several people have already mentioned this, but the shirt is UNtucked (I concur – unacceptable), has this cross emblazoned on the front, has said cross end in the middle of the shirt, and, as we have now established, changes color at the cuff. Now, differently colored shirt cuffs do work. But the only good examples that I know of are a more colorful shirt body (usually a pale pastel or another soft color), and white cuffs (sometimes with the matching white collar). Graphic elements in menswear like the cross also didn't really exist on garments until about the 50s/60s, but even then not on dress shirts, just sweaters and cardigans.

I saw someone mention the use of a dickey – which only works if Alastor has some sort of vest or waistcoat involved. But since we don’t see any indication of a vest, I’m just going to assume that the bits we see exposed are all parts of one shirt. *shudder*

All things considered, I think that the Ugly Shirt is definitely the lesser offender of Alastor’s Hot Mess Outfit compared to the Hideous Coat. I say lesser offender because if you tuck this shirt in and add a couple accessories, then immediately it’s already not the worst thing you’ve seen on this planet. That coat is a different story.

The Pants

His pants should be tapered at the ankle, not flared out. However, a loose pant leg of approximately the same circumference all the way down would also be acceptable.

On to the accessories

Monocle: its presence I don’t have as much of a problem with as I do its color. The metal bits I find are hard to see against the dark bits of his hair (not to mention that shinier metallics were more of a norm then compared to the duller finish we see on Al’s monocle). But also WHY would it be tinted?????? Hell already seems red as fuck. WHY do you need a red tinted monocle????

Bowtie: WHY is the knot a different color????????? Hand tied (hell, even pre-tied) bowties are made of ONE fabric all the way. Unless this is one of those artisan clip on bowties using feathers or other unconventional materials (but it doesn’t look like it).

Gloves: The closest thing I can think of for these gloves are modern driving gloves. Driving gloves have holes along the knuckles that either show skin or a different fabric. (However, driving/men’s gloves back then didn’t even look like that. Just short, solid leather gloves with seams on the back of the hand). I have no excuse for the tips. To me they look like those tips you have so you can use smartphones despite glove usage. But we all know Alastor would never.

Speaking of the gloves, there’s something going on between Al & Vox and Al & Sir Pentious. We all know Viv likes to repeat a certain theme across characters with connections, like hearts with Angel, Valentino, Cherri, and Husk. Alastor, Vox, and Sir Pentious all have the exact same glove design. We all knew they had beef, but this is just visual confirmation in the character design.

I almost forgot his hair: Sure, the undercut may have been popular at the time, but that was in tandem with slicked back hair. An undercut + that rag of a mane Alastor has going on is just so confusing to me. Again, WHY???????

His outfit confuses me to no end and whenever I draw his canonical outfit I have to actively shove away thoughts of “BUT WHAT IS THAT? WHAT IS THIS CONNECTED TO? WHY THIS COLOR?” otherwise I risk having an aneurysm.

#I tend to not be too judgmental because Creative Freedom #I will support anyone's desire to experiment creatively #but when asked for hard opinions regarding design I usually have at least some #also to that person who said we were just jealous about Alastor looking better than us #I'll have to say NO to that :))))))))#I'll vouch for literally almost every person on this platform #that chances are they DO look better than our beloved radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor #please forgive my shitty drawings for the jacket mechanics bit #I mean I know most of you don't mind but I do

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etlunainmorte · 4 years

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My friend @dreaming-gamer sent me an ask about the Devil May Cry crew's reaction to a haunted painting, and I uploaded it in my main blog, @thedyingmoon but, for some reason, it didn't show. The askbox was even empty, meaning it was answered successfully. But, still, no post.😰😰😰

So, I'm uploading it here, instead. ><

Tagging @ceruleanworld and @yepps , and a special thanks to @lilttlechicken for helping me with the Spanish translation.

***

Warning: This may contain disturbing scenes with themes of horror and mystery that might not be suitable for some readers. Please, proceed with caution. Thank you!

***

Morrison told them that the former owner of the painting went missing over a month ago.

Now, the incident was, or can be considered, purely coincidental had it not happened to the five people who pre - owned La Pintura De San Gregorio. Even the people who knew those unfortunate souls said that the painting seemed to change with each passing month. Like it was somehow alive. They were even convinced that these poor people would never be found again.

And so, the others forlornly watched Dante bring the very same painting inside the shop. This may, very well, be only a coincidence. Of a regular case involving missing persons. However, in this world they live in, anything could be possible.

It might be the work of Demons, and it was Devil May Cry's duty to get to the bottom of this mystery and find those poor innocent people once and for all.

At first glance, no one would be able to tell what's wrong with the wonderful work of art. The painting, itself, was a marvel to look at. Taking up most of the wall facing the main room of the shop, the painting depicted a calm and very soothing scenery of a lush garden in the dawn, or twilight. The many flowers in the garden that were, rather, realistically made, with bright and vibrant hues of red, blue, green, and yellow, were a complete contrast to how the sky was depicted. With soft pastel colors of pink, purple, and powder blue, and with clouds and birds dotted here and there, the sky could make anyone stare at it for hours on end with its dream - like atmosphere. A simple country house, softly lighted with candles, could also be seen in the painting, and within it, a family of six happily gathered together for a sumptuous feast. On a white, rustic gazebo covered almost entirely by rose vines, there was a beautiful black - haired woman in white looking at the distance, a letter, probably from a lover who was away, in her hand, pressed to her chest. And lastly, a man in black, who may or may not be San Gregorio, himself, could be seen staring at the beautiful woman from a distance, his cold and stoic facial expression the only damper in the, otherwise, gorgeously made painting.

However, should one take a good long look at it for an extended period of time, they would notice the trance - like vibe the painting was giving off. Like they were being seduced by its dream - like scenery. Like they were being pulled inside it.

The first few days and nights of them taking turns in watching over the painting was quite normal. In fact, none of them could feel anything weird or paranormal in it, whatsoever.

It was on the third week of the month where things began to change.

The owner of the Devil hunting agency, a man in his forties named Dante Sparda, has just returned from his investigation of the missing persons when he noticed,... something odd in the painting. It could be easily missed but, if one has a sharp eye, they would immediately notice the change in it.

At first, Dante thought it was a trick of the light, or his tired eyes taking a toll on his equally tired body. But, when he took a closer look, his eyes suspiciously narrowed, he finally saw it:

The family of six inside the house,...

... became only four.

And what's even stranger about it was how the locations of these four seemed to change. For once, they were gathered around the table, and now, only two of them remained, with the other two standing next to a fireplace, seemingly having a hearty conversation.

But, where were the other two people?

Dante looked closer and inspected the art, and, at last, he found the other two. They were now sitting next to each other beneath the shade of an oak tree at the farthest corner of the scenery.

Naturally, he alerted the others regarding what he witnessed. And the moment they noticed the changes, they knew.

The painting really was demonic in nature.

Over the next few days, Dante and his friends observed the painting even closer, formulating theories as to how it became demonic. They also tried asking the friends and relatives of the missing persons but, they only got the same old answers from them: that the painting was alive, and that it was the main cause of the disappearance of those people. They even traced the painting back to its first owner, however, none of his friends or relatives were willing to speak about the incident. Some even refused to let Dante and his friends inside their home, resorting to threats and violence just to keep them out and prevent them from intruding on their privacy.

They did everything they could, until the last option left for them was to find the artist, himself. With no other information about the painting except for the name, San Gregorio, which was etched at the lower left corner at the back of the canvass, they searched and searched until one of Dante's friends, a woman named Nico, found out about something that seemed to shake her.

But, the night the friends were to meet her back in the shop to discuss what she found out, she never came. They waited and waited for hours. They even called her grandmother to check whether she's at home. And it was then that their fears and suspicions were finally realized.

Nico,... has vanished without a trace.

Or,... was she?

For, when the friends looked at the painting, they saw her there,...

... standing next to the two gentlemen by the fire, listening in on their conversation.

The painting,... has taken Nico.

And those six people, not counting the man and the woman in the garden?

Upon closer inspection, those six people in the painting eerily resembled the six missing persons.

They were all,... taken by San Gregorio's Painting.

Desperate for answers and fearing for the worst, they thought of ways to get the people out from the painting. Half of the group retraced Nico's steps and went on with her studies about this man called Gregorio, hoping to find out some more clues that could solve this mystery, and half of them took down the painting from the wall and thought of various ways to investigate the artwork without destroying it in fear of killing the people inside.

They tried almost everything they could think of, from scratching the surface of the canvass to wiping parts of the painting with a wet cloth. But, the more they disturbed the painting, the more it became somewhat aggressive.

The next disappearance proved it.

That one late evening, the young couple Nero and Kyrie were reading some documents about a Spanish artist who has a striking resemblance to the man in Nico's papers. Who they believed to be Gregorio, himself.

All of sudden, they noticed some movement coming from the painting, itself. And when the pair looked at it, in their utter horror, they found out that the man who was looking at the beautiful woman was nowhere to be found.

He has moved. But, where?

The next day, the pair has also gone missing.

And the painting? It now showed both Nero and Kyrie tending to the garden. It also showed Nico inside the house holding a butter knife and looking outside the window with a horrified expression in her face.

And the man who they suspected was Gregorio? He seemed to have moved closer to the woman in the gazebo, his hand reaching out.

But now, his facial expression turned from stoic,... to sadistic.

With no other options left, Dante and his older brother, a man named V, turned to violence as a last resort.

The next evening, the brothers took out their weapons and faced the painting. They must take out the Demon who lived in the cursed art and destroy it. Only then can they save their friends and those six other victims.

Dante made the first move. He raised his sword and swiftly brought it down to the painting. However, the mere second before the blade touched the canvass, Gregorio's eyes moved and landed on them. And when it happened, the blade bounced off the canvass and broke, throwing Dante across the room, and the once hard metal splitting into two pieces.

With determination in his eyes to bring everyone back, V raised his hands and summoned his two demonic familiars, a bird called Griffon, and a panther called Shadow. Together, they assaulted the cursed painting, their strong attacks landing a direct hit on it one after the other. V raised his cane and ran towards the painting, the tip of his metallic weapon pointed at the heart of the art, itself: the woman in the gazebo.

But, something deterred V and made him halt his attacks. The woman turned her eyes on him and gave him a pleading look.

Her looking at the distance, with that letter close to her heart, and Gregorio seemingly advancing towards her without her knowledge,...

Gregorio wanted to have her.

This woman,... needed help.

And the moment V realized this, a vision appeared right before him: the same woman weeping in the garden, that letter clutched tightly to her chest. Gregorio, all dressed in black and that sadistic expression present on his old and distorted face, coming towards her. The woman looking up at the man, her eyes widened with utter fear. And the man lunging towards her,...

V snapped back to reality. Right then and there, he knew what must be done.

They must free the woman in the painting. Free her from Gregorio's grasp and lustful intent. And only then can those innocent souls be freed from their still and dream - like prison.

With a single nod to his brother, who morphed to his demonic form and conjured a new and powerful sword, V pointed at the man in the painting, who was now taking hold of the poor woman's arm.

The brothers raised their weapons once more as Gregorio's fingers covered her smooth and graceful neck. They lunged forward with every intent of dealing one last killing blow to the source of all this evil, while Gregorio raised a knife and pointed it to the woman's chest.

V and Dante brought down their weapons on Gregorio as his knife went swiftly down her chest.

The fiend's bloodshot eyes widened, his teeth gritting in anger as he saw how his body collapse into pieces under Dante's blade and V's cane, the many colorful pigments flowing out of him like a fountain of blood. Their friends, Nico, Kyrie, and Nero's eyes all focused on them, fear and worry etched onto their faces.

The woman closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her face as she smiled at them with gratitude,...

She,... was finally free.

A flash of blinding light emanated from the cursed artwork, blocking the brothers' view. Then, after that, a state of calm, peace, and silence overtook their senses and tired bodies.

And the next moment V opened his eyes, he found himself together with his friends, who were gathered around the table for a sumptuous feast. He saw Nero and Kyrie laughing at whatever Nico was doing, and he saw Dante sitting across from him on the other side of the table, waving at him with a proud smile on his face.

V closed his eyes and sighed. That nightmare,... felt all too realistic. And he was glad that it was finally over.

With a content smile on his face, he stood up and went towards the window, where he saw the beautiful garden outside.

Oh, how peaceful this was. How nice everything was,...

V turned around upon hearing someone entering the house. He didn't know his friends were expecting some visitors,...

His heart seemed to stop beating as his eyes landed on the visitors: six people who looked awfully familiar to him.

Six people who,...

With gradually escalating heartbeat, V rushed outside the house and looked at the scenery all over him.

The simple country house. The lush garden with vibrant hues of red, blue, green, and yellow. The soft, pastel - colored sky of pink, purple, and powder blue.

That rustic gazebo covered almost entirely with rose vines.

V turned back to the house and saw his friends dining happily with their new guests, as if they have no worries. His eyes cautiously travelled to that spot on the right side where a man in black used to lurk, except that he was no longer there. Then, with trembling body and cold sweat breaking out of his forehead, his eyes wandered to that gazebo, where he saw the dark - haired woman. Her back was turned away from him, and she was humming a familiar tune, her voice soothing, and yet ominous at the same time.

He turned back to the house and saw his friends and those six people all looking at him from the window, their eye sockets white, and their facial expressions seemingly empty.

And when V turned to look at the woman in the gazebo once more, he finally figured everything out.

He finally realized what Gregorio was trying to do.

With a sweet smile on her face, that same letter clutched to her chest, she spoke to V,...

"Now, I have you back, my dearest."

***

#vitale #dante #nero #kyrie #nico #dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #devil may oneshot #la pintura de san gregorio

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thatwitchyaunt · 3 years

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Makeup for Magick/Ritual: Imbolc

So, this is a post that got taken own off of reddit because, apparently, a post about makeup as a tool in witchcraft is not... about... witchcraft? Okay? Anyway, this is the copy/paste of the original first post and the rest of this series will be here, so I hope you enjoy. And to anyone coming here from r/witchcraft, welcome to the absolute hot mess that is The Whatever Book!

“Well, here we go! The first post in (hopefully) a series that some of you were surprisingly interested in! Not gonna lie, I thought it would get a bunch of downvotes and that'd be that, but here we are! Before I start, quick disclaimer: My current phone is a 3S, so the pictures aren't the... best quality. But it's what we're working with. Now let's get into it!

So, quick cheeky recap of what I said in my original post: My other passion besides witchcraft is makeup. It's how I express myself artistically and I often use themed makeup looks as a way to celebrate the sabbats, doubling as offerings on Imbolc and Lammas/Lughnasadh. Sometimes, I even incorporate themed looks into spellwork in the same way I would decorate an intention-specific altar. (I fully blame Ms. Frizzle for my love of themed/inspired-by makeup looks, btw.) Now let's get into the post! First sabbat: Imbolc.

Generally, my rituals focus on the more fiery aspect of Lady Brighid on Imbolc; so reds, oranges and yellows are what I reach for. Depending on what you focus on (cleansing/purification, healing, the returning warmth, prep for Spring, new growth, etc), what you choose may be way different. So lets take a peek at the palettes I have in my collection that I can see fitting this coming up sabbat, starting with Colourpop!

Here we have the "Uh Huh, Honey" palette, the "Orange You Glad?" palette and the "Main Squeeze" palette. I'd use these three together for my more fiery looks, but "Uh Huh, Honey" could be paired with a more icy look if your focus is on the returning warmth.

Speaking of! This is the "Going Coconuts" palette, "Blue Moon" palette, "Mint to Be" palette and "Just My Luck" palette.

"Going Coconuts" is definitely a good, affordable neutral palette for Imbolc. It's neutral, but can lean on the icier side thanks to the shade "Palm Reader". Add a pop of yellow from the "Uh Huh, Honey" palette and you're set for a "returning warmth" look.

Then there's the "Blue Moon" and "Mint to Be" palettes, which are both good for the more healing/cleansing aspects of Imbolc. "Blue Moon" can go icy (and be paired with "Uh Huh, Honey" for the returning warmth), or can be used to represent Brighid's healing/cleansing waters. The shades in "Mint to Be" are somewhere between wintery greens and spring greens, so perfect for Imbolc! These mints give me very "fresh and clean" vibes, and also would not be out of place on a set of nurse scrubs. More gentle healing than "Blue Moon".

"Just My Luck" is your girl if you're going for the green of "new growth". Try pairing with "Mint to Be" for a more interesting green look.

The last CP palette I'd look at is the "Yes, Please" palette. It's a descent dupe for the Give Me Glow "Extra Spicy" palette if it's sold out. This is Colourpop's original eyeshadow palette and has those fiery tones I reach for this time of year.

Then, onto the Give Me Glow palettes, there's the "Extra Spicy" palette. I would reach for this one over the "Yes, Please" palette, because it's a better formula and is multi-functional. "Mild", "Spicy Peach Martini" and "Habanero" make for really great blushes and "Ghost Pepper" is a really cool fiery-yellow highlighter. This is being discontinued, however, so If you want it you need to grab it while you can. 10/10, would absolutely recommend!

Next is "The Grunge" palette and the "Sweet & Sticky" palette. Both are descent neutral/nude palettes for this time of year (if you aren't like me and are down for to look like a "Happy Clown") "The Grunge" palette has some interesting matte pops and has two metallics that could lean either warm or cool depending on what you pair with it. It's currently out of stock, and I'm not sure if it's coming back? This past Black Friday, they had it labeled as "discontinued" but I'm not 100% sure.

"Sweet & Sticky" is a cinnamon bun themed palette, and the colors are spot on! I absolutely consider cinnamon buns to be an appropriate food for Imbolc, what with the white icing (melting snow) paired with the cinnamon filling (warmth) in the roll (earth). An excellent small palette for neutral lovers, and "Icing Drip" and "Sweet Cinnamon Latte" are good highlighters depending on your skin tone.

The last Give Me Glow palette is the "Summer Vibes" palette! Specifically for the shades "Orange Soda Pop", "Mango Margarita" and "Sunny". Again, for the fiery aspect of the Sabbat. All the shades in this palette are available in singles, but I'd say just get the palette if you're interested in it. This will definitely come up again in my post for Litha/Summer Solstice, no doubt about it.

Now onto BH Cosmetics! We'll start with the two bigger palettes I chose this time around: "The Zodiac" palette and the Holiday 2020 "Naughty" palette. "The Zodiac" is a that cool with a pop of warm that fots the Sabbat, and the formula is gorgeous! The middle shade is a baked highlighter as well, and looks great on fair/light skintones (don't ask me about deeper skin tones, since I'm out here looking like Casper the Friendly Ghost and have absolutely no clue).

The "Naughty" palette... I'd say it's the only holiday palette that I've seen in the past few years that a brand actually put any real thought and effort into. And the formula's 10/10, so well done, BH! If you want to do a warm tone or cool toned Imbolc look, it's got you. If you want to do a fiery look, it's got you. If you want to do an icy with a pop of fire look, it's got you. It can be used all year round, too, which is pretty great, and you can use it as a sort of anchor palette for different looks. The day I'm writing this (January 18-19, 2021) it's on sale for 60% off, so only $12, and I honestly think you should snatch it up. Definitely going to be showing up in my Yule/Winter Solstice post.

On to the smaller BH palettes! First batch are "Love in London", "Smitten in Switzerland" and "Chillin' in Chicago". These are the three more neutral/"wearable" (eff, I hate that word) palettes in the BH Travel Series. There are a couple more like this, but they'll pop up in later posts.

"Love in London" can go either warm or cool depending on the shades you use, but either way, the tones are deep enough to fit the winter season we're still in.

"Smitten in Switzerland" is more cool-toned, muted-colorful palette with a bright pop. My favorite sage green eyeshadow look is from this palette. Outside of any Sabbat uses, I genuinely cooked up an entire scenario based solely on the vibes of the palette. Like, this is the palette you'd wear if the world was no longer on fire, and you and your family decided to go to a ski lodge for a weekend. You're no winter sports kind of Witch, no skiing or snowboarding for you (you're not here to break all the bones in your body so, hard pass). Instead, you sit by the lodge's fireplace/hearth wearing a cute and cozy sweater, perhaps some cute boots. Maybe you're reading a book or on a laptop/phone/whatever with a mug filled with a hot beverage of your choice, possibly spiked. And there you stay, looking like a cute snow bunny while you wait for the rest of your family to be done nearly getting themselves killed on the slopes.

*Cough cough* Now back to the post... Eh-heh...

"Chillin' in Chicago" is the palette to grab for a muted fiery look. Still has some color to it, but nothing as intense as, lets say, the "Extra Spicy" palette. Great alternative.

Now for the two bright/colorful palettes from BH's Weekend Vibes series. "Avocado Toast" and "Blueberry Muffin". "Avocado Toast" has your greens/warm browns with a pink and yellow pop that'd work great for any "new growth" symbolism. Meanwhile, for my fellow New Englanders, "Blueberry Muffin" gives us those more icy tones for the foot of snow we usually get on, or around, Imbolc. Any other New England Witches just look at that whole "new growth" bit when they first got started and went "B!tch, how?!" ...No? Just me? Side note, "Decadent" is the exact shade of the stain from blueberry juice and that made me idiotically happy. Don't ask, cause I don't know either.

The Shroud Cosmetics "Creepy Cute" palette! Widely considered one of the best pastel palettes on the market (Use code BEAUTBEAN fo 10% off! Did I just plug one of my favorite beauty YouTubers Why yes, yes I did...), it's insanely pigmented! "Void", "Tombstone", "Creep It Real", and "Cold Shoulder" can help you with colder, more wintery looks. "Cold Shoulder" and "Creep It Real" could be used for healing/purification if that's your ritual focus, and "Third Eye" and "Strawberry Milk" could both be used as crease/blending shades for a more fore-based look.

These three are my mainstream "if color is not your jam" palettes. The Tarte "Tartelette Toasted" palette, and the Anastasia Beverly Hills "Soft Glam" palette and "Sultry" palette.

The "Tartelette Toasted" palette is your neutral fiery palette. It gives a nice orange-red "toasted" look that fits the Sabbat well. Not my first choice, but if you're looking for a "basic b!tch" warm palette, she's your girl.

"Soft Glam" and "Sultry" are more warm tone vs. cool tone. If you want a more "cold, thawing earth" vibe, "Sultry" is the way to go. If you want to get it, I think it's only available in bundles on Ulta and the ABH website (but it's like.. half off in Ulta sooooo....). And "Soft Glam", obviously, for the warmer aspects of the Sabbat.

Now, on to my single shadows!

The top five are from Shroud Cosmetics. The first four (left to right) would be good for a fiery look), while the last one would be good to use for a water look/pop.

"World Eater" (Drool-worthy metallic red), "Ignite" (coppery orange metallic), "Vigil" (yellow-gold metallic), "Oracle" (light gold "inner corner highlight" type of metallic), "Sea of Ghosts" (medium blue metallic with a gold shift).

The bottom one is from Colourpop in the shade "Glass Bull", which is the perfect inner corner highlight for icier blue/purple looks.

Last, but certainly not least, my Give Me Glow Singles!

The amount of times I had to curate these singles so they would fit into one large palette.. I just... That's why this took three years to figure out. Anyways, I have a few different color stories in this palette, so stick with me more a second.

*Row 1 (L-R)*

"Marshmallow" - White matte. Pretty basic.

"Halo" - White metallic with baby blue and gold shifts. Perfect inner corner pop of sun for icy looks.

"Satellite" - Straight up silver metallic. If the Tin Man is your fashion icon, this'll do ya.

"Bubbles" - Icy blue metallic.

"Sky High" - Bright sky blue matte. Not pictured because mine came broken, but it's legit the perfect Imbolc blue.

"Blue Jeans" - Muted grey-blue metallic.

*Row 2 (L-R)*

"Cream Please" - Basic cream shade.

"Spring Break" - Green-blue with gold shift.

"Kiwi" - Kiwi Green. What it says on the tin.

"Joker" - Olive green metallic with lime undertones.

"Patty"- Just a true green matte.

"Space Dust" - Deep Smokey true grey.

*Row 3 (L-R)*

"On Ice" - Pale champagne nude metallic.

"Highlight" - Pale champagne gold metallic.

"Lucky Charm" - Golden yellow metallic.

"Fierce" - Pale orangy peach matte.

"You're Cheesy" - Mac and cheese orange metallic.

"Low Battery" - True red orange matte, more on the red side.

*Row 4 (L-R)*

"Selfie" - Burnt golden orange metallic.

"Hashtag" - Grungy medium toned orange matte.

"Chili" - Deep blue based rusty red matte.

"Icy Frap" - Icy warm champagne metallic with taupe undertones.

"Iced Coffee" - Deep bronze gold metallic.

"Dark as My Soul" - Grungy deep warm brown matte.

Now on to the color stories:

*Color Story 1* Icy Blue with a sunny gold pop on the inner corner (returning warmth)

Marshmallow, Halo, Satellite, Bubbles, Sky High, Blue Jeans, Space Dust.

*Color Story 2* Greens (new growth)

Cream Please, Spring Break, Kiwi, Joker, Patty, Space Dust, On Ice.

*Color Story 3* Brighid's Fire

Highlight, Lucky Charm, Fierce, You're Cheesy, Low Battery

*Color Story 4* Warming earth (warm tone browns)

Selfie, Hashtag, Chili, Cream Please, Highlight.

*Color Story 5* Frozen earth (cool tone browns)

Icy Frap, Iced Coffee, Dark as My Soul, Marshmallow, Halo.

And that's that for Imbolc! Holy crap, that took ages! The pictured do not do these shadows justice. One day I'll have a phone with a properly functioning camera...

Well, Glamour Ghouls (you can boo me, it's fine), it's your turn to shop your stash and get those creative juices flowing! Is there anything in your collection that you'd grab for Imbolc? Sound off in the comments and let's inspire each other!”

#Makeup for Magick/Ritual #imbolc #are all mods power tripping assholes?#or just the one i had to deal with?#travel witchcraft #sabbats #broom closet #witchcraft #magick #rituals

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cobblepottantrum · 4 years

Text

ACNH HC

PPG edition

so me and my friends on a server were discussing about how the powerpuff girls and rowdyruff boys would play the game, and i took it upon myself to write it all down. This isnt every single one and all of these were created in a mixture of mine, @empress-lulu-of-mischief and @toxicovee minds (possibly other so if i left you out im sorry!!!) Just something fun and silly to think about.

its long so ill break it up. Let me know if you have any others :)

Blossom: She had played New Leaf and loved being the mayor so only being a resident was a low blow for her. In that case her island is always 5 star because she would have nothing less. When it comes to how her island looks, it's perfect. It's symmetrical and her villagers have a cute little town that looks oddly like Townsville. She prefers the natural looking stone compared to Bubbles bright pathways. Her favorite thing is the museum and she will donate everything one by one so that Blathers will tell her everything, it's kind of insane. She does this with Celeste too and has little information signs everywhere. She doesn’t really like doing the custom designs for clothes but will occasionally.

When it comes to the flowers, she only likes the red, pink and white ones. She only plants those and if any colorful ones come up, she gives them to Bubbles or has giveaways on her island. She has giveaways on her island where up to five people can come and ask her questions like a little meet and greet.

She doesn’t time skip too often but she did go back in April for the cherry blossom DIYs which her entire house is pink and cute. When it comes to her outfits, she wears the red bow and Bubbles made their old school dresses so she usually has on her pink dress. Her villagers are all pink and she likes having the snooty ones best. She won’t hesitate to complain to Isabell and she will take a net to them.

Game Name: Blossom Island Name: The Good Place (Was Townsville but Bubbles told her no) Fav Characters: Blathers, Celeste and Tom Nook Fav Villagers: Flora, Merengue, Pinky, Whitney, Audie, Raymond Fruit: Cherry Flag: Her iconic red bow with a pink background Tune: The ppg theme song (it's actually mine too)

Bubbles: The queen of custom design and the hybrid hoarder. Her custom kiosk is constantly being used as everyone wears and uses her designs. Her island is filled with pastel blue pathways and the cutest decor ever. She mostly has small parks and cafes and is still trying to get past her 4 star ranking for KK Slider. She loves the hamster and small villagers and refuses to hit them with nets (except for the monkey who was mean but that's ok). She revolves around her flower gardens and she will yell at you if you try to steal her golden roses. No time skipping for her because she likes the slow pace of the game.

Every morning she goes to every villager and talks with them and sends them gifts. The Able Sisters is her favorite place and she mostly buys things for her villagers. Her musem isn’t even close to being complete because she is scared of the bugs except for the butterflies. The fish she is okay with but the moment she saw the tarantula she closed her game. If one of the girls or boys is on her island, they will catch everything for themselves. Her terraforming skills are off the charts since she likes design so much and everywhere you turn there is a waterfall covered with flowers but absolutely no weeds.

She loves having people come to her island. She sends out Dodo Codes for flower watering and trading. Everyone brings her gifts and it's now a running gag to bring blue flowers. Her player is always changing styles and hair colors but she always has custom heart cheeks.

Game Name: Bubbs Island Name: Sugar Shore Fav Characters: Leif, All the Able Sisters Fav Villagers: Bunnie, Cookie, Merry, Bubbles because duh Fruit: Apples Flag: Intricate bubble pattern with flowers Tune: She changes it from one disney song to the next

Buttercup: She wasn’t too thrilled about the game as she never played the other ones before. However she does start to like it as it's relaxing and helps with her anxiety. She's a grinder and always has money. She designed her island to have different areas based on her favorite movies and sport areas. She likes the jock and lazy villagers and will not hesitate to smack them with her nets. She hates how long dialogue takes and smashes the buttons violently.

She breeds the black flowers and her house is surrounded by them. She likes to catch the fish and every night she goes to as many islands as possible for taratuna hunting. She only allows her best friends to come to her island because the log screens are a pain. Her island is nice and cool and she time skips like crazy and likes the turnip stock market. Other than that she's not too obsessed with it and her villagers get upset when she leaves them for days at a time. The only custom thing she makes is movie posters and band album covers. Hidden around the island are magical summoning circles and fake blood, Bubbles hates it.

She likes CJ’s fish challenges and half her island is covered in bugs for Flick. Her player has the bandages and custom fake blood as well as spooky outfits that she gets from other people's codes.

Every time she catches a snail, she sends it to Butch with a message “its you” attached.

Name: BC Island Name: Spice Shack Favorite Villagers: Kid Cat, Bam, Phil, Bruce Fav Character: Cj and Flick Fruit: Orange Flag: Green skull with a black background (bubbles made it) Tune: Opening to “Welcome to the Black Parade)

Brick: Stock Market King, Mr. Richie Rich, Snob. After Boomer told him to play and gave it to him, he became obsessed with the stock market. Every Sunday is turnip day and he spends the week finding the highest selling price, usually his twitter followers will invite him and he will leave them a bunch of Nook Tickets. He time skips like crazy, cheats and he wears the crown without hesitation. His island is 5 star spotless and shows off the rarest items. If you wanna come to his island then you must pay up. He is the person who you hate because you wanna be him. He has only the top tier villagers and will call you poor. He doesn’t bother with custom designs and if he wants something then Bubbles is the one to go too. He used an island planner beforehand to make sure everything was in place. The moment something new comes out, he's on top of it. He doesn’t really care if a villager is ugly or cute, if they are highly wanted, he gets them.

If you happen to be dating him, you must wear the matching crown to prove that you are the best because it's what you deserve.

Name: Lord Brick Island Name: Bricktopia Favorite Villagers: Audie, Marshall, Raymond, Bob Fav Character: Redd, Daisy Mae (He is her bitch and sets his alarm) Fruit: Peaches Flag: Red flag with a crown on it (made by bubbs of course) Tune: He doesn't know and he doesn’t care because he plays on mute.

Butch: Disater. His island is always messy and he doesn't care too much about the atmosphere but he does like the bugs and is a simp for Isabell. He saves all the snails BC gives him and puts them in his snail room or the army room. He becomes serious about the game a little later and sooner follows Brick with all the cheats. They dominate the stock market like bosses

He doesn't talk that much with the villagers but spends time hitting them with nets if they are ugly. He keeps Butch without a doubt and moves his house next to his cause they are bros but all of his villagers are cats only for the reason to make jokes. (pussy island)

His island is like a living meme as he has random images in the sand. His house is simple but a punk rock domain and he wont tell anyone that he spent hours making the green day album covers for his wall. He doesn't have too many flowers but prefers the bamboo look more. His favorite item to wear is the hockey mask and he put fake blood face paint on. His island is like a horror game instead and Bubbles refuses to come to his island because it's scary. He also likes to make mazes out of hedges.

After a while he restarts his island and son time travels and has the island buffets where people pay to come get materials and objects. He becomes an AC king in no time and likes that he can make money. (the only people allowed on his island without payment is the girls, his brothers and his friends, other than that, pay up)

Name: Butch Island Name: Butch Pad Fav Villagers: Butch, Bob, Olivia, Stinky, Tom (litrally just cats and Butch) Fav Character: Cj and Kicks Fruit: Pears Island flag: A snail with a skull on its shell Island tune: Mr. Brightside opening

Boomer: This boi right here is the AC King. He's played every single game since he was little (always made fun of by his brothers but look at you Brick). He knows all the AC lore and will go into detail about Tom Nook and Redds past plus he is the biggest shipper of Flick and Cj. His island is terraformed perfectly and he has literally everything you could want. He time skipped for a little bit but never cheats.

He is a twitch streamer and everyone tunes in the moment Boomer is on. He allows for five people to come on his island a day to play games and get DIYs that he already has. He's a humble player who knows his way around everything. He doesn’t care too much about which villagers come and go but Audi is his favorite as the back story suggests. He just wants to complete it all except he will never be able to catch wasps, he sucks at it. However he rarely misses a fish and also has piles for Flick and CJ.

He is an avid hybrid flower person and any extras, he gladly gives away. Bubbles gets the first pick. He is surprisingly good at custom designs and makes everything himself. His island has little cafes and band areas as well as a perfect view of KK Slider because he is a 5 star island for sure.

He owns AC Merch and buys fanart from other people because he is obsessed. He got Brick Daisy Mae socks and he catches him wearing them every Sunday for good luck.

His player looks like him but also wears the crown (he got it first anyways). His house has all the instruments and has a nod to all his past houses.

Name: Boomer Island Name: Big Blue Fav Villagers: Boomer, Bubbles, Audi, Tad Fav Character: Isabell, Timmy and Tommy, Cj he loves them all. KK SLIDER Fruit: Cherry Flag: His flag changes weekly as his subscribers have flag comps each week and he uses the winner as his flag Tune: He is an Og and didn’t change the song.

Ships and how they play:

Reds: Museum dates. They love walking through the museum while talking on the phone and wandering around. Brick brings her a pink rose each visit and Blossom places them around her house. Usually when they are on each other's islands they are facetiming or talking and they just kinda run around and don't do much before getting off and focusing on each other. Blossom brings him gold flowers because he is a snob but he secretly appreciates it. Blossom has to take off the bow and wear the crown because only the best can be on his island. She makes him wear a red hat when he comes onto her island. Sometimes they have fishing competitions and whoever wins gets to brag on the bulletin board.

Blues: Dates!! When they visit the other islands, they go back and forth all day, exchanging hybrid flowers and catching butterflies. Bubbles talks to every villager he has and they each made a secret picnic spot on their islands for them. If he is streaming, she is mostly likely watching and or playing with him. They can spend hours just talking and running around and they just craft and decorate together. She helps him fix his house up and “I love bubbles Is written in the sand that can clearly be seen from the plane loading screen. They always give things and write love notes on their boards. Together they host games on their island and it's always on a certain day. There's at least a queue of 100 people each time.

Greens: They hit each other with nets and axes for five minutes before switching to a fighter game and hopping on with the boys. But if they manage to stay on longer, Butch and Buttercup just cuss consatntly and leave eachother gross notes on the bultin boards. The play hide and seak and Butch likes to dig up her flowers and make a mess of her island before she does the same to his.

COLOR CRACK:

Brick x Bubbles: He constantly is paying off her debut because she doesnt time skip or grind for her money. She never asks him to but she opens her mailbox to find bags of money and rare items. She makes his red sweater and when he goes to her island that's the only time he removes his expensive outfits. In the back of his island he grows hybrid flowers for her. She makes his custom designs and shows him how to boost his flower production and villager points.

Brick x Buttercup: He likes calling her poor. He is insulted by her island being boring and gives her gifts but she sells them to piss him off. They are the most competitive pair when it comes to fishing and she likes to dig in random places and drop items to make him mad. He’ll walk around and find thirty sticks everywhere and call her. It's about teasing with them and good fun. They are also the turnip couple overlords and constantly are looking for the best princes.

Boomer x Blossom: Boomer knows everything about AC and Blossom loves learning about the stories. He gives her tours of the museum and everytime she has a new villager, he explains their past. He gifts her pink flowers and she helps him complete his museum with fossils. He will have people come to his island and she even has meet and greets with people. It's simple and fun.

Boomer x Buttercup: Boomer gets BC addicted to the game. No other person can make her care so much about these animals than her soft boyfriend. He shows her all the secrets and how to make her island amazing. She becomes obsessed and is soon rivaling Brick for best island, Blossom knows hers is better. Buttercup likes to grind and travel for materials and anytime Boomer says he needs to find some more wood, she has it sent to his island in no time.

Butch x Blossom: Sir is a simp for Pinky. He enjoyed listening to her talk about the fossils in the museum and when she flew to his island “Blossom is Hot” was written on the ground. Even though her island is thriving , he constantly sends her gifts and things. His favorite thing to do is to run on her island and leave a random heart patch for her to find. She doesn’t exactly approve of his methods of making people pay money to get stuff but him allowing her to get whatever she wants, she turned the other cheek because if people want to spend money so be it.

Butch x Bubbles: He hits her villagers and she yells at him. He also likes to take her flowers one by one and replace them with normal one. He tried taking her golden rose but she cried and he called her to make sure she was ok. Now he doesn't mess with her but finds himself growing her flowers. She doesn’t come to his island because it's spooky but he made a little spot on the beach and “Bubble Safe Zones”. She tends to have the best items for sale so whenever he visits he shops a lot. They like to fish together and she shows him how to plant flowers and make his island nice. After he decides to restart and make his island a shopping paradise, Bubbles gets anything she wants especially since she doesn’t time skip. If there's something rare that he only has one of, she gets it.

Bonus: (doesn’t matter which ship)

-Blossom once had turnips for 800 bells and did not let Brick come on her island because he said something about the bow being dumb. He instantly regretted and called her and begged, the man begged over the phone for her to open the gates. She did at the last second.

-Butch once stole Bubbles gold rose and the entire city heard her sonic scream. He put it back and waters it daily. (She screamed cause she saw a spider on the wall but it got him to but the rose back)

-Boomer and Blossom know about the AC lore and often have long discussion on his stream about different

-Nintendo contacted the girls and for a new event they made the powerpuff girls as villagers you could have. Blossom is a preppy wolf named Blossom, Bubbles is a sisterly duck named Bubbles and Buttercup is a jock cat named Butters. Each of them are themed to their signature color and each offers a special diy. (they sent the girls amiibos and codes to get their own) Big Bow Bookshelf (Bow shaped bookshelf with blossoms signature), Heroes Bedtime(replica of the childhood bed), Hotline Phone, Heavenly Hearts Rug (the heart ending screen rug), Bubbly vanity (three giant blue bubbles that look like a mirror with bubbles signature), BC Bean Bag (bean bag that is green with Buttercups signature). Crime Fighters wallpaper (wallpaper that has the famous pink, blue and green streaks), Pink Poster, Green poster, and Blue poster, PPG Poster (has all three girls on it)

-Each girl has a special memorial on their island for Bunny. It is just a patch of Purple roses and all of them are near their house.

#ppg #rrb #The Powerpuff Girls #acnh #animal crossing hc #ppg hc #reds #greens #blues

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justmickeyfornow · 5 years

Note

Mickey I know we always have Lena as the strong, sexy, graceful woman who pursue the dorkable Kara, but look hear me out...Dork Kara is really the aggressive, lewd, sneakily touches Lena's thigh under the conference table during a board meeting type. And Lena turns into a fumbling stuttering mess for a lil while

Oh, you mean something a little like this...?

*Casually slides this to you*

Lena had just bought Catco, and if it was any other investment, she would probably appoint a CEO to do the labor work of it all while she ran L-Corp as CEO. But Catco was Cat Grant's. And Cat Grant was a familiar face from when she was young. When Lillian and Lionel would invite all the elites over and have their fancy dinner parties. Cat was always one of those who would actually talk to Lena as an equal and not use her as a pawn to get in the good graces of the Luthors.

So Lena owed her that much at the very least. To find a suitable person to run Catco. And until she found that person, she was going to do it herself.

She sat at the head of the meeting table in the conference room with the heads of her department and prominent employees. They were listening to a presentation by James about showcasing a photographer in their next issue. Kara sat beside her on her left, the table being shaped in an oval allowing them to be seated very close to one another. Snapper looked bored at the other corner of the table. Sitting beside him was Richard from the legal department and Oliver on the other side from the men's fitness column of the magazine. Other members who were crucial for the meeting scattered across the large table, half listening, half daydreaming of lunch time.

Lena herself found her mind wander off a few times during the presentation. She and Kara have been dating for well over a few months now and Lena found the experience to be... Magical.

Kara was nothing like the bubbly sunshine that Lena expected her to be. The smiles and the pastel colors, those were all Kara Danvers, the persona that she had to put on to blend in.

But Lena. Lena was dating Kara Zor-El. Superhero to the people of National City. And dating her was much much different.

Kara Zor-El had an air of confidence around her that Lena often found... Very very arousing. The slow lazy smiles she gave when she knew Lena's heartbeat was reacting to her touch. The way her eyes gleamed with mischief whenever Lena would walk around the house without any pants and only those oversized t-shirts.

Lena had enough control in her life to want to relinquish all of that to Kara instead behind closed doors. She was the businesswoman, the CEO, the one always in charge. She had to make decisions that would either cost her a billion dollars or grant her as much. And she made those decisions everyday.

So, when she found that she actually liked playing the feeble woman in Kara's strong arms, Kara had no objections whatsoever.

It started off as small gestures here and there. The possessive hand on the small of her back whenever they were walking into a restaurant. The way Kara held open the door for her. That time Kara asked her to sit on her lap during game night. The marks on her neck and thighs.

But small gestures gradually became more. And Lena loved every second of it.

The time Kara pushed her against her desk and kissed her roughly. Her hands dragging the material of her dress upwards. Even though Lena had a meeting in less than 10 minutes. Even though Lena told her as much. The way Kara silently glared at any guy who dared to flirt with her. Or the time Kara sent her a text in the middle of a work day asking for a provocative picture out in the open in her office.

It all made Lena crazy with want. A need so desperate she was afraid she would one day ask Kara to simply take her on the conference table in front of everyone.

"Ms. Luthor?"

"Hmm?" Lena jerked her head upward at James, who was looking expectantly at her. And so was everyone else apparently.

"I asked if you wanted me to go over some of the templates we have for showcasing the pictures?"

Lena cleared her throat, "Yes, yes. Please do." she promptly answered, trying to ease her heartbeat down. Her mind had certainly wandered off to dangerous territory.

When she looked beside her, she found a lazy smirk playing on Kara's lips, though her eyes didn't meet Lena's. Lena was sure that Kara knew exactly what it was that Lena had been thinking of, if the rhythm of her heartbeat was any indication. She blushed a crimson red and tried to keep her eyes glued to the presentation in front of her.

A few minutes later, Lena felt a hand softly slide onto her thigh from under the table. Her heartbeat spiked, and she almost jerked at the touch. Kara's hand moved to the inside of her thigh and squeezed the flesh there. Lena stole a glance beside her and found that Kara looked as though she hadn't moved at all. Her eyes focused on the presentation and her expression not indicating at all what was happening under the table.

Except Lena knew her. She knew the smirk that hid behind her expression.

Lena's cheeks turned a bright red and her chest rose heavily as Kara's hand continued to slide lower towards her knee. Lena straightened up in her chair, swallowed down a lump in her throat and tried to keep her focus on the presentation. She looked around, half expecting everyone in the meeting to be looking at her aroused and disheveled, but no one was the wiser.

Kara's hand reached the edge of her skirt, her fingers clenched so that her nails dug into the skin of Lena's thigh as she began to drag the material of the skirt up. Lena did jerk then. Her hands both went under the table to clasp around Kara's wrist, the move causing everyone to turn to her in question.

Her eyes went wide as she froze in her spot, not sure what to say. She tightened her grip on Kara's hand and breathed heavily through her nose.

Kara cleared her throat from beside her, "I actually have a question about the theme, if that's okay with you James." she confidently spoke, "I'm actually writing a piece on the effects of social injustice on graffiti art and I was wondering if maybe the photographer you spoke about would be interested in doing a project like that."

Everyone's attention directed to James for the answer and James went on to explain that the artist had done a similar project once and would probably go for it.

Lena, still frozen in place, noticed the hidden smirk on Kara's lips. She was grateful that Kara had saved her but couldn't help but blame her for her predicament to begin with.

Lena remained grasping at Kara's wrist. She couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but zero in on Kara's touch.

Kara's fingers began to move softly. They danced on the skin of her thigh, making Lena's heart thunder in her chest. Kara's hand didn't move, but her fingers tapped on Lena's thigh softly. She was waiting. For consent, for permission to go further.

And Lena was too turned on to do anything but grant her the permission.

Lena slowly let go of Kara's wrist and placed her hands back on the table in front of her. She clasped her hands tightly together and waited for Kara to go further.

Lena's eyes stayed glued to the projector screen as Kara dug her nails in her skin again and began pulling up the material of her skirt. Lena's breath hitched, she unwillingly closed her eyes for less than a second as the feeling traveled through her body. Kara finally reached her inner thigh, a small groan escaping Kara's lips was the only indication that anything had happened.

Lena sat straighter up. Her back stiff, as the hand underneath the table roughly squeezed her thigh and travelled further inside.

Her focus shifted to the table with half lidded eyes as Kara's fingers began dancing once more. Drawing nearer and nearer towards...

"Ms Luthor?"

Lena jerked, suddenly. Her whole body almost jumping off the chair in her haste to fix herself. For a second there she thought everyone found out about her and Kara's under the table adventures, since everyone was looking at her. But then she noticed that James had finished his presentation and was sitting in his spot.

Shit. It’s my turn to speak.

"Oh, well, thank you, Mr. Olsen. Let's- Let's move on shall we?" she stuttered, her hands shaking as she opened the folder in front of her.

She bit down on her lip to suppress a moan when Kara's fingers reached her soaked panties. Lena's mind was indecisive. She wanted to stop, to focus on the meeting, to not make a complete fool of herself.

But on the other hand, she had never been more turned on in her life.

She cleared her throat, looking down at the words and not being able to read a single word, "A-As you all know, the next edition will focus on- on social injustice. We have interviews lined up as well as umm..." she lost her train of thought when Kara began playing with the edge of her panties, working on pushing them aside.

Lena's heart banged against her chest as she shook herself out of the pleasure and refocused on her words, "I want social media coverage on the justice march that's..." her hand jerked, and she covered up the action by reaching for a pen, "That's on Sunday. I want all platforms to be..." she dug her nails into her palms when she couldn't handle the anticipation of feeling Kara's fingers where she wanted, but didn't want them to be.

"Working." she finished miserably.

What was I even talking about?

Her mind failed to even properly remember what this meeting was about. Something about injustice?

Lena shook her head a little, refocusing herself for the umpteenth time, "Investors will be coming in on Monday morning from Japan to discuss the MLS project we're launching this year. I want legal to be there." she nodded at Richard, who nodded back that he and his team will be there. She turned to the assistant who was taking minutes, "And make sure there are interpreters present at the meeting."

"Of course, Ms. Luthor." the assistant affirmed.

Lena held her breath when Kara's fingers began rubbing over her panties. She could handle the teasing, the touches, the groping. But she will be damned if she thought she could handle Kara stimulating her without coming undone in less than a few minutes.

Lena straightened in her seat, closing her thighs over Kara's hand. It made things worse. Because now she was grinding on those fingers and they felt oh so good between her thighs.

She cleared her throat once more, "And the..." she swallowed down, taking a deep shaky breath to calm her nerves, Kara was now rubbing faster on her clit over her panties, "The umm..."

The what?!

She couldn't remember. Couldn't focus. Couldn't think much of anything but those damn fingers and how much she'd love to kick everyone out and straddle Kara's lap.

"The new branch launch party is scheduled for next month. I want all the final catering details sorted out as well as security issues."

Lena looked down to her notes. They made no sense anymore. Something about a charity auction for some event that she remembered nothing of at the moment.

Kara came to her rescue at once, "And there's the matter of the..." her fingers rubbed faster, "Cover for the next issue."

"Yes!" Lena said, a little too excited and not because of the cover, "I want the final picks for the cover on my desk by the end of the day today please."

Everyone nodded their agreement, finding their boss' attitude today a bit odd.

Lena swallowed down, "A-and..." she closed her eyes for a second, suppressing a moan, "And that's it! I think we've discussed everything there needs to be discussed. If you'll excuse me, I have another meeting with Ms. Danvers about her last article."

And with that, she pushed Kara's hand out of the way, got up, and walked out. Kara chuckled as she gathered both their things and followed closely behind.

Fully knowing what her meeting with Lena will be about. It's a good thing Lena had blinds installed around Cat's office, or else the whole company will witness that meeting.

#You guys thought you were getting the smut #didn't you?!#nope!#I was gonna answer this with something short #and then I couldn't sleep thinking about something stupid I did years ago #so i was like you know what?!#Let's write this!#Supercorp #Supergirl ficlet #Mickey writes #Fanfiction #Dunno if this one is worth adding on AO3 tho #We'll see #hope this was what you were looking for

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myunaveragelife · 4 years

Text

One (Billy Hargrove/OC) - Ch. 1

The new house wasn't quite what I had been expecting. I hadn't seen any pictures of it and I hadn't asked my parents about it. I hadn't wanted anything to do with my new home until we had arrived. Now that day was finally here and there was no way for me to avoid it any longer. This was my new life. This was home now. This was the life that I had stupidly given myself. If only I had been able to control my temper and mind my business, I wouldn't have to start making myself a new life here.

It was too late to try and go back in time. I was just going to have to get used to living here. It started with getting used to my new house. It was a cute house, two stories, which I hadn't been expecting. My home in Florida was probably just as large but it had only been one story. There were very few two-story houses in Florida. This one was large but not quite the size of my old home. It was brick-faced with some white siding while my old home had been coated with light-blue colored stucco.

My eyes caught a small chimney at the left corner of the roof that indicated there was a fireplace inside the home. As upset as I was at having to move, the thought of having a fireplace did almost manage to put a smile on my face. I had always wanted a fireplace, but there had never been any point in having one back in Florida. It was too hot to ever use one. Being in Indiana, I imagined that it would become icy cold in the winter. I let out a deep breath. I had never liked the cold weather.

Even at the end of summer, I could already tell that it would be freezing when the wintertime came. I sighed quietly, pulling my black leather jacket a little closer over my shoulders. I looked at the brick-faced home once again and took a deep breath. My home in Florida was fifteen hours away. There was no way for me to get back home. As my parents had already said, this was our new home, whether we liked it or not. This was my life now, I may as well try and enjoy it.

My dad patted me gently on my right shoulder as I walked past. "Buck up, kiddo. It won't be that bad," he said. We exchanged a long look. He must have seen the doubt in my eyes as he continued speaking. "Who knows? You may have fun."

I looked at my father and narrowed my gaze. "Fun?" I repeated, motioning down the lifeless and silent street.

"Fun can be found in the most unlikely of places," Dad said.

"Right," I muttered.

Indiana appeared to be many things, but fun didn't seem to be one of them. I hadn't seen one car drive by since we had arrived on the street - and I had sat in my car longer than I would have liked to admit. There was no noise coming from any of the houses. Had I not seen some shadows in the windows, I would have thought the neighborhood was empty. There were no sounds of children laughing or teenagers chattering away; no smells of summer barbeques or splashes from pool parties. I walked up the driveway of our new home and headed toward the front door.

The front door of our new home was painted bright red, unlike the rest of the house, which was mostly a burnt-red brick facing with some white siding on the second floor and around the windows. It looked like the typical all-American home. Now, if only there was a station wagon in front of our new home. My parents would have never dared been caught in something so suburban, though. They hated my car enough, but I had wanted it and they weren't willing to say 'no' to anything I had wanted so badly.

"Go inside, honey," my mother called from her spot at the moving van. "We'll meet you there in a few minutes!"

I walked up to the red door and gently pushed it open. The house was completely different than I was expecting. I had hoped some part of it would resemble my home in Florida; I wanted to see all of the pastel colors and beach themes. The home was instead typical of one someone would see in the Midwest. I was immediately greeted with a grand wooden staircase that led to the second floor. There was no furniture in the house yet, which made it seem far less homey than I hoped it would feel later.

The walls of the home were all painted white, which made it feel like I was going to be living in an asylum. I ran my fingers gently over the wood trim on the walls as I walked through the halls. I went to the right side of the staircase first. There was a formal office with a glass door on it that I knew my father would use to do his work. Behind what would be my dad's new office was a large formal dining room that I knew we would hardly ever use. We only had formal dinners on holidays, otherwise, we would eat in the kitchen.

To the left of the formal dining room was the kitchen. It was slightly smaller than the one we had had in our house in Florida. I knew that my mother would be upset, as she loved to cook. I knew that she would like the small nook in the corner of the kitchen that we would be able to have our casual meals at. I smiled slightly as I walked over to the table and drew back the floral curtain, letting some light into the kitchen. It was already looking a little homier. I ran my hand over the ceramic tile countertops as I slowly walked through the kitchen.

This place was completely different than my Florida home, but as I took a deep breath, I told myself that I could get used to living here. I was positive of that. "Oh, I hope Rachel likes it here," my mother said from the foyer, likely to my father.

"We'll see, Mom. I'm not making a choice our first day here," I called back, letting her know that I could hear her.

My mother was smiling lovingly as she walked around the corner to come into the kitchen with me. "Honey," she chided gently.

"Oh," I muttered dumbly. It had been a long time since I had mistaken what was said out loud for what someone was thinking. My mother was still grinning at me. At least I had done it at home. I ran my hand through my hair as I smiled weakly. "Sorry, I'm a little out of my head. I guess I need to pay a little more attention."

"We're at home now," Mom pointed out, motioning around us. "No need until you're in school."

If only I didn't have to go to school. I couldn't believe that I had to start over in my junior year of high school. "Speaking of school, what are the chances that you'll consider letting me homeschool myself for the next two years?" I asked.

"Not wonderful," Dad said, joining us in the kitchen. "Honey, you need to be with other kids -"

"Like me?" I asked angrily, arching an eyebrow.

Both my parents' faces flushed. "Your age," my father corrected me.

That was about as close as I could come to be with people like me. "We've seen how well that works," I muttered irritably.

I'd done so well right up until last month. My mother smiled sadly as she walked up to my side and brushed my hair back. "Rachel, sweetheart, I know it's tough but you had a good time at your school in Florida," she argued.

"Right up until I f -"

"Language," Dad interrupted, knowing exactly where I was going with my last comment.

I flushed with embarrassment. My parents put up with a lot from me but they never tolerated my sometimes severe language. "Sorry," I muttered dumbly, walking into the middle of the kitchen and motioning around. "Look, I'm sure this place isn't that bad. It's just going to take some time for me to adjust."

"We know," Mom said. "Go on and explore a little more."

"Okay. Where's my room?" I asked.

"Upstairs to the left. There are two bedrooms you can pick from," Mom explained.

"Thanks," I said.

At least they were willing to let me pick which bedroom I wanted to sleep in. I left my parents in the kitchen as they began telling the movers where to place our belongings. I walked along the back of the house on the other side. I passed a large pantry at the edge of the kitchen and a large family room that was set a few steps into the ground. There was enough room in the far corner of the family room that would be able to house the new television my dad had wanted for years to watch football on.

There was a laundry room on the other side of the family room and I let out a breath of relief. I knew that my parents would have me helping with laundry and I was glad to see that it wasn't down in a basement. I had always found basements a little creepy. There was a small powder room off of the laundry room and a two-car garage that I had to pass to make it back to the grand staircase. I glanced up at the chandelier that hung above me and let out another deep breath. It was a beautiful home but it didn't feel like mine.

Holding my head as high as I could, I walked upstairs, dragging my feet along the wooden floor. I went to the right first to see what was on that side of the house. It was a large master suite that would be my parents' bedroom. I closed the door to their bedroom and turned back to the left to look at the two bedrooms that my parents had offered me. I walked into the bedroom furthest down the hall first. It was a little larger than my bedroom back in Florida, but this one had a bathroom.

It looked nice but I wanted to see what the other one looked like first. It was very similar to the first as it had a bathroom attached as well but there was one fewer window and it was a little smaller. Not to mention that it was closer to my parents' bedroom. I shook my head. Not that one. So, I went back to the first bedroom and headed toward the window. I didn't just want the bedroom because it was larger and further away from my parents, but also because there was a trellis just outside the window.

Judging by the appearance of the trellis, I knew that it was strong enough that I would be able to climb up and down it. I wasn't much for sneaking out in the middle of the night, but I had done it a few times before. It was also nice to have the option to get out if I wanted to and my parents didn't want me to go. It would be nice to get the chance to go on a nighttime walk or maybe a party I wanted to attend. Or, maybe even a date if all went well with the boys here. I wasn't sure what I would use it for, but I knew for a fact that this was my bedroom.

Once I had settled on my bedroom, the first box of my things arrived in the hallway. I walked away from the window and thanked the movers, taking the box and pulling it into my room. I opened the flaps and pulled out my boombox, smiling at the sight of it. I had always loved music. I turned on Under Pressure by David Bowie, blaring the music loudly enough to be heard through the house. I grinned at what I was sure was two very annoyed looks on my parents' faces downstairs.

Dancing around my new room, I began pulling out the rest of my things from the box. I wasn't the best packer in the world and that was evidenced by the way my things were jammed into the box. Underneath the boombox were posters of some of my favorite bands including Metallica, Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, AC/DC/ and Motley Crue. I had all of their albums somewhere in my boxes - something I was sure my parents were praying would get lost in the move. They could never stand all the racket I made.

My parents loved music but had never been fond of my taste in it. I didn't care, I loved it. It allowed me to block out everything else in my mind as long as I could keep the volume loud. It was one of the reasons my parents had never outwardly said anything about my musical taste. I began unfolding my posters and hanging them around the room, pressing them into the same relative spots that they would have hung in back in Florida. It was a little piece of home.

It may have been a little silly, but it made me feel like this was my home and not someplace that I had been forced into. I let out another deep breath as I continued flitting around the room, flinging my things into the relative locations they were supposed to be in. The movers came in and out as I unpacked, bringing in my bedframe, mattress, bedside tables, desk, and dressers. After I had been unpacking for nearly an hour, I opened the window near the trellis to let in some fresh air but ended up being surprised by the slight chill in the breeze.

Mid-August had always been blazing hot in my hometown. It had been nearly a hundred degrees when we had left Florida the day before. It was currently in the low eighties in Indiana but the breeze was still a little chilly. It was harder than I had initially expected to be so far away from the life I'd set up for myself in Florida. I missed the sun and warmth on my skin. I figured that it would only be so long before the tan began to fade from my skin. I stood at the window for a moment, determined to not let my mood affect me.

Indiana was my home now. I'd known that for weeks. I now just had to find a way to live with the change of scenery. I could find new friends to hang out with here. I had at least two years to figure out how to navigate life at a new high school. I could enjoy it. I would have time to get to know my classmates before we all left for college and the working world. It was two years here. I could manage two years, and who knew? Maybe when I was ready to go to college, I could look into one back in Florida. I could finally go home.

Most of the next few years were spent decorating my room as box after box was dropped in by the movers. As my room began to take shape - closely reflecting the one I had left behind only thirty-six hours prior - I began to feel a little more comfortable in Hawkins. It may not have been the place I would have picked to move, but I supposed there was some kind of charm in it. The new house was nice, at least. I hung a floor-length mirror over the back of the door and kneeled as I began sticking pictures into the frame.

Many of the pictures were of myself and my parents, but there were also a few of the friends I had left behind in Florida. Many of the pictures were taken at the beach I had lived near. It was always one of my favorite places to be. I would certainly miss the beach in land-locked Indiana. I supposed I could go to the local pool or maybe a lake if I could find one. My father had told me that there were a few lakes near Hawkins, but I hadn't seen a single one as we'd driven into the small town.

The first genuine smile appeared on my face as I began going through the pictures of my friends; all of our silly parties and holidays spent together. There were some funny ones of trips to theme parks and ones taken of us half-asleep during late nights spent studying. I smiled at the picture on the top of the pile of my best friend, Casey Walker, and placed it near the top of the mirror. I had promised Casey when I'd seen her just before we'd left that I would call her as soon as I was settled in Hawkins.

I placed the rest of the pictures around the frame of the mirror, trying to stagger the ones of friends and family. There was one special picture that I placed at the center of the top of the frame. It was a picture of the day my parents had adopted me back in 1970 when I was only three-years-old. I remembered nothing from my life before being adopted, but I knew how grateful I had always been for them. They were the reason I had grown up with a real family and not in an orphanage, alone, and uncared for.

My parents were some of the loveliest people I had ever met and they were the people I cared about most in the world. Unlike many other adopted kids, I was lucky. I looked enough like my parents that I could easily pass for being their biological daughter. My mother was short with dark blonde hair while my father was tall with deep brown hair. I was short with light blonde hair. We all shared a nearly identical tan from our time spent in the Florida sun. My only real difference from my parents was my eyes.

My father had deep brown eyes while my mother also had brown eyes; though hers were a little lighter in color. While two brown-eyed parents could have a blue-eyed child, it was rare. I didn't share the brown eyes that my parents had. My eyes were blue. They weren't just a regular blue, though. They were so light that they had been mistaken for being white in the sun. It used to freak people out when I was younger but my friends had come to love them by the time I was a teenager.

When my parents had first adopted me they had been afraid that my eyes meant I had some kind of disease or potentially even cataracts. They had sought out medical advice from multiple doctors to see if the color was any indication that I would go blind with age, but every doctor they had seen had claimed that my eyesight was just fine. There wasn't even a need for me to wear reading glasses. They had told my parents to enjoy the fact that I had different colored eyes.

My mother and father had never tried to hide the fact that I was adopted. They had told me it for as long as I could remember and had always promised to answer any questions I'd had about my birth parents. Back in Florida, everyone had known. My parents had informed everyone that they would be gone a few days to adopt a daughter. My parents had left on a two-day trip to pick me up from the orphanage I had lived in and come back with the three-year-old me and had immediately enrolled me in pre-school.

My fellow students had been told from the time we were all little that I was adopted. The occasional cruel jeer had been thrown my way when I was a child, but I had always known how to take care of myself and over time, my parentage had become accepted. No one had cared that I was adopted. Now that I was new here and didn't know anyone, I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to tell people that I was adopted. I didn't want to face the questions that were sure to be asked and I didn't want to open myself up to even more ridicule than I was sure to get as the new kid.

There wasn't much I could tell them about my life when I was a child, after all. I had no memories of my life before I had been adopted. I couldn't remember where I had been raised or who I had been raised with. I didn't have the slightest idea of who my parents were or why they had decided to give me up. I had never been interested in knowing what my early life had been like. When I was old enough to understand, my parents had told me that my biological parents were unknown and I'd never had any further interest in getting to know who they were.

When I was very young I had briefly wanted to know about my parents, but that desire had passed almost immediately. I had no reason to want to know what they were like. My birth parents hadn't wanted me and that was enough to tell me what I needed to know about them. I didn't even know where my parents had adopted me from. My parents had once told me that they would answer any questions that I'd had about my birth family, but I had quickly told them that I didn't want to know anything. I knew that answer had pleased them.

The only thing my adoptive parents had told me about their lives before me, was that they had tried for years to have a baby of their own. That was all I had wanted to know - I had always been curious why I didn't have siblings. My parents had eventually realized that they were getting too old to have a baby through natural methods and if they wanted to have one while they were still young enough to enjoy raising a child, they would have to adopt one. That was where their search had begun.

As my parents had said, they had initially searched for a newborn. When I'd asked why they hadn't settled with a newborn, they had explained that they had fallen in love with my developing personality and had instead happily adopted a toddler. It didn't make a ton of sense to me at first, but they had always teased me by saying that they were able to avoid the diaper phase because they'd adopted me in my toddler years. I had decided not to push things even further and leave it at that.

Despite my reasonably strange early childhood, I seemed to have come out of things just fine. I had gotten good grades in my prior school and had always had a plan for my future. I was going to go to a good college and eventually I wanted to become an engineer. I had always had a brain for maths and physics. My parents had told me for as long as I could remember that I could do whatever I wanted as long as I put my mind to it. I wasn't going to let a new school in a new place change my plans. I just had to make it through two years.

I stood from my kneeling spot at the floor-length mirror and looked around my room. Right now, it looked like a tornado had blown through it. I could start organizing things later - once my parents spotted the mess and yelled at me for it. My clothes were scattered all over the floor - which was where they normally were - and my makeup and jewelry were in a pile on my dresser. My posters were hung up along the walls at random intervals and my sheets were half hazardously slung over my bed. I chuckled. It looked like home to me.

It was good enough for now. As long as I kept the door closed, my parents would never know what a wreck my room was. I took out the phone I used in my bedroom and plugged it into the outlet on the wall. I spun the rotary dial around to match Casey's phone number. I had been eager to speak with my best friend since leaving Florida. I just wished we were face-to-face like I was so used to. The phone rang for a few moments before I heard the receiver click with an answer.

"Hello?" Casey's mother answered.

"Hi, Mrs. Walker," I greeted. "It's Rachel."

"Rachel!" Mrs. Walker greeted happily. "It's good to hear your voice, honey."

I smiled. "Thanks."

"How are you liking Indiana so far?" Mrs. Walker asked.

How could I answer her without saying something nasty about the home I'd had almost no chance to get to know? "Well, it's uh, definitely different from Florida," I said awkwardly, making Mrs. Walker laugh. "It's kind of funny. It's things like the leaves changing colors. We never see that in Florida. It's a little odd not seeing any beaches too. It's a small-town vibe out here. It's nice, just not something I'm used to."

"It must be quite the change," Mrs. Walker said.

"Oh, it is," I said, chuckling under my breath. Indiana was unlike any place I had ever been before. "Who knows? It may be kind of fun."

"That's the attitude to have," Mrs. Walker said. "You never know. You could meet some interesting people."

"That's true, but no one can replace you guys," I said truthfully.

The Walkers and the rest of my friends back in Florida meant everything to me. No matter who I met in Indiana, nothing would compare to them. "Make new friends, but keep the old," Mrs. Walker said.

"One is silver and the other's gold," I finished.

"Exactly. I suppose you're not calling to talk to me?" Mrs. Walker teased.

"I always love speaking to you, Mrs. Walker," I said.

"Just teasing you, dear. I'll grab Casey," Mrs. Walker said.

"Thank you."

"Tell your father to enjoy his new job and your mother to keep in touch," Mrs. Walker said. "We all miss you around here."

"Thanks, Mrs. Walker. I will. Say hi to Mr. Walker for me, please," I said.

"Of course, dear. Hang on a moment."

The phone clicked as Mrs. Walker put me on hold to allow Casey to pick up the phone. I twirled my hair around my finger as I waited. I wished she was close enough that I could hop into my car and head over to her house. Casey used to be a three-minute drive from my house. Now it was well over a fifteen-hour-drive to go visit her. I supposed that I could always head back to Florida for a while next summer, but that was a year away. I was going to have to figure out another way to keep my best friend close for the next ten months.

Suddenly, there was another click on the other end of the line. "Rachel!" Casey yelled.

"Hey, Case," I greeted happily.

"So, tell me everything about Indiana!" Casey chirped.

That was Casey's personality. She could manage to be perky about anything. Even her best friend moving away. "What's to tell?" I asked, chuckling under my breath. "We only got here a few hours ago and I've spent all of my time unpacking since. I've got most of my stuff out now I've just got to put everything away."

Casey laughed. I had always had a messy room, something she'd always mercilessly teased me for. "What's it like there?" Casey asked.

"Weird," I answered honestly. "It's so quiet on the streets. I mean, I saw a few kids riding around on bikes but I haven't seen much other activity." I had briefly seen four young boys riding through the street as I had unpacked. "My parents told me there's a pretty big downtown area. Maybe I'll have to check that out later."

"Is there a mall?" Casey asked.

I snorted with laughter. It figured that a mall would be her main concern. "Typical that your first question would be about a mall," I told her, making Casey laugh. "Nope. It's all little mom-and-pop shops."

"Gross," Casey replied.

Casey had always liked being able to walk through the malls in the city. She would have died the moment she'd seen the sleepy town of Hawkins. "What the hell am I supposed to do here, Case?" I groaned.

"Get through the next two years and then come home," Casey replied.

I smiled. "It's a deal."

"So, when's the first day of school in Indiana?" Casey asked.

"A week from today."

"You don't sound too excited."

Normally, we loved the first day of school. It was a chance to show off new outfits and catch up on the gossip over the summer. In a town full of people I didn't know, I would have no chance to enjoy the start-of-the-school-year festivities. I would just be the new kid to stare at. "Not really. I mean, I'm already two years into high school. I didn't want to start over halfway through high school. Everyone's already going to have friends and their groups," I said irritably.

"It sucks that your dad got a job there," Casey moaned.

She would miss me as much as I would miss her. It just sucked that I had to pretend that my dad's new job offer was the real reason we had moved. "Yeah, it does," I muttered quietly. "But we'll stay in touch, right?"

"Always," Casey replied immediately. "And, hey, we'll see each other again one day! You'll have to come and visit."

"Definitely. Maybe I can convince my parents to take a road trip back to Florida next summer," I said.

"That'd be great. We all already miss you," Casey said.

"I miss you guys too," I muttered.

It was going to be such a strange next two years without the friends I had become so accustomed to. "Look on the bright side, all the guys in Florida are surfers and beach bums. I mean, they're hot but you have a chance to meet all new ones!" Casey chirped. I laughed under my breath. There was the one positive, I supposed. "Maybe there'll be some hot rocker dude. We've got none of those in Florida."

"Hot and an asshole, I'd bet," I replied.

"Who cares? You're missing the most important part; they would be hot," Casey said.

I laughed again. "Good to know that you've still got your main focus," I told her, making us both laugh. "I don't know. A hot rocker dude in Indiana? Do they even have those in Indiana?"

"They have to have something there!" Casey yelled.

"They don't even have a mall here, Case," I groaned.

"I'll send you something. Just because you have to live in the middle of nowhere doesn't mean you have to look like it," Casey promised.

I chuckled under my breath. "Think I'll stick out like a sore thumb here?" I asked.

"Probably. There weren't even that many rocker chicks in Florida," Casey pointed out. She had always been dressed like she was ready for a trip to the beach. As she'd always said, I consistently looked like I was on my way to a concert. "I doubt there are many in Indiana."

"Maybe it'll give me a good niche," I reasoned.

"The boys there will be putty in your hands in no time," Casey teased, making us both laugh again. We were silent for a moment before she continued. "I can't believe you had to move."

"Me either. Especially here. Hawkins, Indiana. What the hell does someone do in a town like this?" I huffed, motioning out the window even though she couldn't see me. "It doesn't look like there is anything to do here."

"I'm sure you could find someone to do," Casey said pointedly.

We burst out into a fit of giggles. "Casey!" I yelled.

"Rachel!" Casey mocked.

The two of us had always told each other everything about our boyfriends and interests. Casey was the first person I had told when I had been intimate with my old boyfriend, Jason, for the first time. Casey was the one I Had done to when Jason and I had broken up a few months later. Casey was the one I had gone to when I was embarrassed for hooking up with school jerk Brian Blake at a Halloween party last year in an attempt to get over Jason. The two of us had shared everything since we were little.

We'd had a lot of fun over the years. We had always been a package deal. We would always go on double-dates and tease each other for which boys we'd wanted. We were known to be some of the funniest people in my old high school. I couldn't believe that I had to start all over at a new school. I would have to make new friends and learn how to interact with the people in Hawkins. They weren't people I had known most of my life. I just had to remind myself that this was a chance to make new friends and maybe even a new boyfriend.

If there was a chance I found a guy I liked in Hawkins, I knew that Casey was going to be the first person to know. She would kill me if I didn't tell her first. Of course, until I saw what the teenage guys in Hawkins looked like, I was going to be a little doubtful that there was any chance I would meet a guy I liked here. I smiled to myself, twirling the phone cord around in my hand. If there was one positive about this situation, it was that at least I would get to meet some new guys. Who knew? Maybe there would be a few interesting people.

"Come on, there's got to be someone interesting in town," Casey said, breaking me out of my reverie.

"We'll see. I haven't met anyone here yet. I'll keep you updated," I said.

"Oh, and send pictures!" Casey chirped.

"How creepy do you think I am?" I gasped.

"Do I have to remind you of New Year's this year?" Casey shot back.

The two of us immediately dissolved into fits of laughter. New Year had been one of the last big parties I had gone to and we had both quickly found guys we had liked. There had been a polaroid camera that had been passed through the party and too many pictures had been taken - both of the two of us and of our entertaining times with the boys. We had chased our friends around the yard for an hour drunkenly trying to break the camera to make sure those pictures didn't get out. It had taken a while but we'd been successful.

"No!" I yelled, the stupid memory bringing a smile to my face. "No, you don't."

"Rachel!" Dad yelled from downstairs.

"Hang on, Case," I told my friend. "Yeah?"

"Can you go grab the mail?" he asked.

"Sure!" I yelled back. "I've got to go."

"Hey, go explore your new little hick town and call me back in a few days with the scoop," Casey told me. I laughed at her blunt phrasing. "I want to hear all about the hot guys!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll let you know," I muttered. "Tell me all about your progress with James!"

"Oh, I've got a plan," Casey said.

"We both know your plans never work out," I said, laughing.

"This one will, I promise," Casey said hopefully.

"Sure. Love you, Case," I said.

"Love you too, Rachel," Casey replied.

We hung up our phones and I placed the set back onto my bedside table, rising to my feet. James was one of my former classmates and a longtime crush of Casey's. He had been a year ahead of us and the two of them had been flirting for years. I had made Casey promise to finally make her move once I had left. Without me around, Casey would need something else to entertain herself with. Casey would be able to have James now, but she would also want me to have someone new.

At least I would be able to keep in touch with Casey over the phone. I smiled at the many pictures of the two of us as I left my new bedroom for the first time since I'd walked in. There were already boxes full of pictures and other decorations lining the hallway. My parents were wasting no time trying to make our new house feel like home. I walked out of the hallway, down the stairs, and into the foyer before heading out the front door and down the driveway toward the mailbox.

For the first time since arriving in Indiana, I noticed that some neighbors were around. They were peeking out from their windows to look at the new arrivals. I rolled my eyes. I knew exactly what they were thinking. I knew that they wanted to know what my family was doing here, having come out of the woodwork with no obvious reason to have uprooted our lives to Hawkins, Indiana. I was tempted to turn around and go back inside and forget about the mail when I saw a young girl about my age staring at me.

It appeared that she was also trying to get her family's mail. She was four doors down in a house a little smaller than my new one. I stared at the girl for a moment. She seemed to be the epitome of the perfect high school girl. She had shoulder-length curly mousy-brown hair and wore a buttoned-up collared shirt with a cardigan over it. Her khaki pants were high-waisted and belted tightly. Her deep blue eyes were locked on me with no clear intention to look away. I gave the girl a vague smile. It was how my parents wished I would dress.

The girl's eyes scanned over me as I looked down at my outfit. My blonde hair trailed down my back in gentle waves with small braids thread into the sides of my temples. I was acutely aware of how low-cut my Guns N' Roses t-shirt was, as I had torn multiple holes across the chest after I'd bought it. My leather jacket laid over my shoulders and my jeans clung to my thighs. My parents hated my sense of style but said nothing, as they knew it was a losing battle. The girl's face didn't express disgust. Instead, she looked curious at my appearance.

I knew that the girl was interested in me. "Hello," I greeted, yelling across the lawns.

"Oh, hi!" the girl greeted, jumping as she realized that I had been looking at her as closely as she had been looking at me. "You must be the new neighbor."

I threw my head back to the moving truck with a slight smile on my face. "Must be," I said.

"I'm Nancy. Nancy Wheeler."

The girl had a bright smile on her face as she crossed the lawns and finally walked up in front of me. I smiled at Nancy and extended my hand to shake hers. "Rachel Winters. Nice to meet you," I told her.

Nancy smiled at me, her gaze moving to the license plate on my car. "You moved from Florida?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah. Born and raised there," I answered.

It wasn't the entire truth, as I knew that wasn't where my parents had adopted me from, but the entire truth wasn't going to come out in our first conversation. "Did you like it in Florida?" Nancy asked.

"Oh, I loved it there," I said happily. "I'm hoping to move back one day."

"Why did you move here?" Nancy asked.

"For a breath of fresh air, I suppose," I replied. We exchanged a small smile. Nancy didn't try to push, clearly sensing that I wasn't willing to talk about my past anymore. "Are you from Hawkins?"

"Yes. I've lived here my entire life," Nancy answered.

"Do you like it here?" I asked her.

Nancy shuffled on her feet for a moment. "Well, it's an okay place to live," she answered. I chuckled at her; Nancy was trying to be nice to her hometown. It was evident that she didn't like it here at all. "The people here are nice and it's got a homey feel to it."

"It does. I've never lived in a place where you can walk downtown and ride your bikes to your friend's houses," I said.

"Really?" Nancy asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Florida's a little spread out. It took at least a five-minute car ride to get anywhere," I said honestly. Casey's house was the closest thing to me. The mall had been twenty minutes away and the school was fifteen minutes away. Most of the people who had lived in my old neighborhood were retirees. I had been the only teenager who had lived there. "There's a real hometown feel to this place."

Nancy smiled at me. "Well, I hope you like it here."

"Thank you, Nancy." I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my pack of cigarettes and lighter, striking it. My parents had tried to get me to quit but had eventually agreed to allow me to smoke as long as it wasn't in the house. I was about to light the cigarette when I saw the look on Nancy's face. "Do you mind?" I asked.

"No, not at all," Nancy said, looking a little embarrassed that I had spotted the repulsion on her face. "It's your property."

"It's a disgusting habit, I know, but I can't seem to kick it," I admitted, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag.

As I blew the smoke out upward into the air and away from Nancy, I felt my jittering nerves calm slightly. "Are you trying to quit?" Nancy asked curiously.

"I've tried to quit before but it's never worked out. My best friend from back in Florida hated that I smoked," I admitted. Casey had always refused to hang around me while I was smoking. "I don't know, it's always helped calm my nerves."

"Don't be nervous. Hawkins isn't that bad. It's a quiet town and most of the people here are nice," Nancy said.

"Most of the people," I repeated, chuckling as I took another drag.

Nancy laughed. "You know, there are always the typical high school assholes."

My eyebrow arched. I wasn't expecting Nancy to curse the way she had. She struck me as the angelic type. "Oh, yeah. What would the world be without those?" I replied, grinning.

Nancy smiled at me. "Are you still in school?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered. "I'm going into my junior year at Hawkins High School."

"Oh, me too!" Nancy chirped excitedly.

At least I would know one person when I got to Hawkins High School next Monday. "Nice to know that I won't be surrounded by all strangers on my first day," I told her.

Nancy chuckled. "You know if you want, you're more than welcome to hang around with me."

It was nice to know that Nancy would be willing to hang out around me when I was sure she had her friends she wanted to be with. But if she was willing, I would happily take her up on her offer. I would feel like a loser if I had to sit alone all day. "That'd be nice. I can't be the cliché new-kid-sitting-alone-at-the-lunch-table on my first day," I said.

Nancy smiled again. I figured that she had plenty of acquaintances but not many close friends. "You can always ride with us," Nancy offered. I arched my eyebrow. Who did 'we' mean? "My boyfriend, Steve, he's going to pick me up on Monday morning and we'll drive over together."

Of course. I figured the pretty girl would be dating someone already. I wondered if he was the popular jock like I figured he was. "I appreciate that, but I'll drive myself. I've got a bit of a control issue," I said honestly. I didn't like driving with anyone. Nancy smiled at me again. "I'd be happy to meet you there though."

"Deal," Nancy said.

"How long have you and Steve been together?" I asked curiously.

She didn't get the twinkle in her eyes that most girls did when they were thinking about their boyfriends. "Well, we've kind of been on-and-off over the last year or so. There has been a lot of ups and downs," Nancy said, chuckling awkwardly.

"But you two are okay now?" I asked curiously.

"We're okay now," Nancy confirmed.

Her thoughts told a different story. "You don't look all that excited about him," I reasoned. The two of us stared at each other for a moment. I realized very quickly that just because I knew Nancy wasn't happy with Steve didn't mean that I should say anything about it. "I'm sorry, that's none of my business."

"No, it's okay," Nancy said, waving off my concern that I had gotten a little too familiar with her. "It's kind of nice to have another girl to talk to."

"Yeah, I know how you feel. I had to leave my best friend behind in Florida," I said.

"I get it. I lost my best friend Barb about nine months ago," Nancy replied.

My face instantly lost the tan it normally had. Here I was, acting like it was the end of the world that I had been forced to move away from my best friend when Nancy had lost her best friend. I tried to think for a moment that Nancy meant that Barb had simply moved to another place, but the somber look on her face told me that what I had initially thought was correct. Nancy's best friend had died. Suddenly, I felt like a horrible monster for having been so dramatic about leaving Casey behind.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, Nancy," I said dumbly.

Nancy shook her head, the tears building in her tear ducts. "It's - It's okay. I've had a lot of time to get used to it," Nancy said, her tear-filled voice breaking slightly. "It's just -"

"Hard to say goodbye?" I offered, knowing that she was having a hard time speaking. Nancy nodded. "I get it. God, I feel like a dick now for being upset at having to move away from my best friend."

Nancy smiled at my phrasing. "No, don't feel bad," she said, waving off my concern. "It sucks to lose a best friend, whether it's because you moved away or because something terrible happened to them. You still have every right to be upset about your friend."

"So do you," I said, sensing that Nancy hadn't let people know just how upset she was.

The two of us smiled at each other again. "Is it just you and your parents?" she asked, probably trying to change the subject.

"Yeah. Just the three of us. What about you?" I asked curiously.

Nancy laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, no. It's my parents, my little brother Mike, my little sister Holly, and me."

I smiled. "Big family."

"Have you ever wanted siblings?" Nancy asked.

My face flushed slightly as I began rubbing at my wrist subconsciously. I quickly forced my wrist back down to my side. "Sometimes. I guess it could be fun to have someone to hang out with, but on the other hand, I'm sure we would fight like cats and dogs," I said honestly.

"It's both of those things. I love my brother, but I could kill him sometimes," Nancy said honestly.

We laughed at each other again. "Rachel!" my mother shouted from the front door.

"Coming, Mom!" I yelled to her, turning back to Nancy. "I guess that's my cue. I'll see you around, Nancy. It was nice meeting you."

"You, too, Rachel." I turned away to walk off before being stopped by Nancy's voice. "If you want a chance to get to know Hawkins, I'd be happy to show you around," Nancy offered. I hummed under my breath. I hadn't considered wandering around town yet. I'd just wanted to get through the rest of high school. Nancy seemed to sense my hesitance to say yes. "There's still a week until school starts."

A lot could happen in a week. Maybe Nancy could at least be a good friend to me while I didn't have Casey. "You know what? That sounds good," I told her honestly.

"How about Thursday? I'll have to keep an eye on Mike and his friends Thursday anyway," Nancy offered.

"Sounds like a plan. Bye, Nancy. I'll see you on Thursday," I greeted.

"Bye, Rachel," Nancy said.

We exchanged another smile and waved each other off as we turned back to our respective homes. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and tossed it onto the ground, stamping out the end. I felt a little bit better knowing that I had managed to make one friend. I wouldn't be completely alone when the year began. I headed back through the front door, the mail clutched in my hands as I tossed it on the counter. My parents were both hanging near the window. I knew that they had been watching me and were now curious about Nancy.

"Who was that?" Dad asked curiously.

"One of our neighbors; Nancy Wheeler," I explained, glaring at them. I should have known they would be watching me. "She's in my year. She offered to show me around Hawkins this week before school starts."

"See?" Dad said, slinging an arm over my shoulder. "Living in Hawkins could be more fun than you think. You're already making friends."

"One friend, Dad," I said, pushing his arm off of me.

"After only being here for a few hours? You're not doing too bad, kid," he countered.

"How about dinner?" Mom offered, sensing that I still wasn't thrilled with being in Hawkins.

"Sure," Dad and I said together.

"Set the table?" Dad asked me.

"Yeah," I responded.

Mom began cooking as I grabbed the plates and placemats, moving them into their spots around the table. I gathered the utensils from their spots still in the boxes and tossed them onto the table. My parents were laughing and joking in the kitchen as they began cooking the chicken - the only meal Dad had brought with us. I took a deep breath as I watched them with a smile. Maybe living in Hawkins wouldn't be that bad. Maybe this could be a fresh start for me. Maybe this place could feel like a second home.

Once I had finished setting the table, I stood at the window of our new home and smiled, looking out into the already fallen yellow and orange leaves. I'd never had the chance to enjoy the fall season before. Back in Florida, the weather always felt like we were living in the middle of summer. I could only remember a few days that the weather had fallen under thirty degrees. It was going to be a strange adjustment living in Hawkins, Indiana, but we had to be here. It was all we could do to protect our family.

The fallen leaves sat uninterrupted in our driveway and the street beyond. I stared at them, allowing myself a brief moment to wish I was back in Florida, laying on the beach with my friends, not sitting in Hawkins, Indiana, wondering what the first day of the new school year would bring. I was going to be the new kid, something I had never been before. I wasn't looking forward to that. I was three-years-old when I was adopted and had grown up with those people. I had never been the new kid before. Everyone had always known me.

This first day of school was going to be different. I was going to have to deal with the teenagers at Hawkins High School who wanted to know all about me. I would have to come up with a boring story about why I had moved from Florida to the boring town of Hawkins. I would have to explain so many things. The only interruption from my depressing thoughts was the deafening roaring of a car engine from which Cum on Feel the Noize by Quiet Riot was blaring over the radio. I smiled as I tried to find the car.

"What the hell is that?" Dad asked, walking up to the window.

He was standing over my shoulder as I leaned up onto my toes to look down the street. I spotted the car but didn't get much of a chance to linger on it. The vehicle was gone before I got much of a chance to look at it. It only narrowly avoided the movers, who jumped back with screams. I had to resist a smile I tried to fight back a laugh. The car was a 1979 Chevrolet Camaro, the same car I had. The only difference was that this car was deep blue and my Camaro was jet black. I didn't see the driver though I did spot a woman in the passenger seat.

"Gosh, he needs to slow down," Mom commented, glancing up from her spot in the kitchen. "He could kill someone driving like that."

"See, Dad? Looks like I'm not the only one who likes that car," I teased, throwing my head back to where the car had shot down the road.

Dad frowned as he stares at the car, continuing to rocket down the road. "What if I bought you a new -?"

"No," I interrupted him.

It didn't matter how much he hated my car, I was never giving my baby up. "You know, honey, it doesn't make me feel better knowing that you share any of the same tastes as whoever that car belongs to," Dad said bitterly.

I smiled, my blue eyes glittering. "Relax, Dad, I'm sure that's the only similarity we share," I teased, rubbing my hand over my right wrist again.

A/N: In canon Stranger Things, Billy and Max show up a few days before Halloween and most of the season takes place over the course of about a week. Now, that's not enough time to introduce a character and set up dynamics in a story to me, so I'm going to go ahead and pretend that the Hargrove's actually arrived in Hawkins at the start of the year, giving me about another two-and-a-half months of character interaction to play with. Just a quick head's up! I know the dates aren't accurate and that was intentional.

#billy #hargrove #strangerthings #billy hargrove #stranger things #max mayfield #eleven #hawkins #mike #will byers #joyce byers #hopper #ofc #billy hargrove x oc

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otomequeen · 4 years

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Get To Know The Game: Bad Boys Do It Better

Released: July 8, 2016 Company: Otome Romance (Voltage Inc) Opening: YouTube Download: Apple Store - Google Play - Amazon Store

Overview

So the plot is rather simple and easy to follow. Your family moves away but you stay behind. You move into a dorm, which surprise, is full of all boys. Who happen to all be your class, in another surprise, an all boys school. You are now the only girl in an all boy school. That’s basically it. You are adjusting being in a new school, living in a dorm, being separated from your family, and all that good stuff.

Note: I have previously made a post about this. It has since been deleted. This is an updated version of that post.

Aesthetics

I would say bold. There is only a few games that got released before this title that I would consider bold and vibrant. These colors are bright, and neon. The textures are amazing. And that’s just with the chapter cards, the characters are equally as bold and vibrant. Multi color hair, tattoos, piercings. It definitely stands out compared to previous entries.

Operating System

Now I was really happy with what Voltage (Otome Romance) did with this game. The first thing I want to touch upon is the special choice system. Instead of giving you three options to pick from, a heart will spin on your screen and you can either ‘go for it’ or ‘pull back.’ And as of right now, as far as I’m aware, this is the only title to get this feature from them. And I don’t know if that’s because it didn’t sit well with fans or what. But I loved this change of pace. It not only gives me an option that can sway my love meter, but I don’t know what’s going to be said. Sometimes after you play games for a while you kinda know what they are going to say in response to your choices. But if I don’t know what I’m going to say, I have no idea what is going to happen next. I can have a vague idea, but it’s a refreshing surprising that I felt I needed.

Now I will say that since this title got moved to Love 365 instead of being a stand alone app this function is still within the game. But the heart no longer has English text. Maybe it’s just a glitch, or on certain routes/chapters. I haven’t fully completed everything to test that out. I’m super happy they kept it, but if you were going for a certain choice it makes it a little harder unless you read Japanese.

The second thing I wanted to talk about was the text box. While it’s fairly standard just to have a square box at the bottom of the screen, usually in a pastel color that goes with the theme of the game that you can change the opacity of. Bad boys keeping with this bold aesthetic made it feel like I was reading a manga or comic book. There is a small extension from the box that points in the direction of the person who is talking. If there is more than one sprite on screen, the extension moves accordingly.

And much do my dismay, this function didn’t translate with the merge to love 365. I can understand that they can’t have a mega app with small variances between all the titles and still have space to add more things. But it took a small part of the game away. It added to the experience and now instead of being it’s own entity, it’s slowly becoming just another title.

Endings

So this title has a love meter system. Which isn’t new to this game, nor is the idea of leading to two different types of endings that isn’t labeled good and happy. But I like how they labeled it for this game. I didn’t know what I was expecting initially, but I liked them.

Additional Thoughts

So I thought that the plot was meh and the mc was also meh. Nothing really stands out about this plot line. You see it all the time in animes, and I get that its hard to make it different to stand out. But the more I played the game I started to think they choose this kind of plot to tinker with the OS and try new things rather than putting out a game with a lot of content. Because as of right now the game has a main story and epilogue for 6 characters, and then 5 or 6 sub stories. That’s it. And it’s not like they have a screen that says ‘sequel coming soon’ it straight up ends after the epilogue. Which I appreciate, I don’t know how you could keep this kind of plot going for more stories without it being super predictable. So for this kind of plot the mc fits perfectly. High school student that doesn’t really know love. All the typical mc behaviors that annoy a lot of people in different games.

I am kind of sad they never made another character datable. I did a previous review of this game where I mentioned two characters you can’t date. But since then they have released one of those characters. So now I’m just waiting for the other one to get their own route. I think there could be a lot of fun things that can happen. I get the vibe it could be like Joh from Dreamy Days in West Tokyo kind of situation. But still. I want it.

Takeaway

I feel like this is a decent game. I’m glad that I purchased routes in it. It’s very cute. I don’t know if I will say people should play this as their first game. Since it’s very bland I guess. But I think it’s a game to purchase to play when you are waiting for another game, or taking a break. It’s a good way to pass the time. Not in the sense of ‘am I eating because I’m board?’ But between the OS, which I think is my favorite of all the games, and pretty graphics it’s a good change of pace.

You also don’t have to worry about spending too much money on the game, since there isn’t a lot of content to buy. And there are no plans for future released, so you don’t have to worry about that. It’s a one and done kind of deal. You can fully own 100% of this game without breaking the bank.

#bad boys do it better #get to know the game #gtktg #otomequeen #otomequeen reviews #voltage #voltage inc #love 365 #otome romance

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nomnomsik · 5 years

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In Sync | Pt. 4 | END

Summary: The dance teacher and choreographer, Jung Hoseok, appears as a guest for UNDER 19, a judge for the showdown round, with only half of all the trainees qualifying for the next round. Despite his intimidating manner, his interest in you, a trainee, must mean he wants you to qualify to the end, right? What happens if he wants something else from you, completely unrelated to dance?

Pairing: Dance Teacher!Hoseok x Trainee/Idol Fem!Reader

Genre: Slow-burn, Idol!AU

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: Thank you for your support. Enjoy the final installation of In Sync!

Trigger warnings: depression/suicidal thoughts, eating disorder, yandere-themes, profanity, possessive tendencies, overworking, and mental breakdowns. Please read with caution.

| 01 || 02 || 03 ||

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

With heavy muscles and sore legs, you wanted to let out a harsh sigh, but instead, your eyes zoned out, aware of the ear-deafening screeches and cameras that were probably going to be used to expose you for the 100th time this week.

The harsh lights from the stage and the loud echo of the microphone overloaded your senses, your soul hoping to let the show be over, to finally sit down in a chair for once, and close your eyes to drift asleep. Hoseok was waiting for you back there. What did he think of your performance? It would be nice if he enjoyed it, if he was proud of you again.

“Congratulations!” The loud MC of the show announced, the sharp and thunderous burst of confetti sprinkled in the air, fluttering down as pastel colors softly landed on top of your head. You were awakened out of your daydream as a mic was shoved into your vision, your face almost forming into a frown until you caught yourself. You instinctively smiled instead, unaware what was actually going on, but smiles always dispersed any suspicion.

“Y/n, please tell us how you feel about your win.” The male MC spoke, folding his cue cards away as he gave a bright smile to the camera.

Wait, what did he just say? First win?

“Wai- What?” You spoke into the mic, your eyes growing wide as they nervously darted back and forth. “I- Me? Win?”

“Yes, please tell us your thoughts.” The male MC bowed, the heavy award being dropped into your hands.

“Oh, umm…” You blinked rapidly, staring at the glimmering and hefty trophy, giving a big smile to the camera. “This was very unexpected, but I’d like to thank all my fans who voted for me. When I came on stage, this was the farthest thing I was thinking about. I’d also like to thank you to my agency and my dance instructor.”

You bowed, the backing track of your song playing in the background as idols shuffled out off stage. Most of the people in the audience stayed for your encore stage, singing along as you swayed back and forth. Your cheeks hurt from smiling too much, the award that you worked tirelessly for years in your hand. It was too good to be true, the shiny metal reflecting hundreds of lights back onto the ground. As the last few seconds of your song died out, you were brought back to reality, your fans cheering at you.

“Thank you, everyone, for this.” The longer you stared at the award, the more the memories began to resurface, almost to praise your hard work. You didn't work for nothing. You were just lucky. That’s it. If it wasn’t for the strings that were pulled, you would be a nobody like everyone else.

You gave a final wave to the crowd, jogging backstage. As soon as you were in the protection of the curtains, your smile turned into a frown, your eyebrows knit as a heavy feeling dropped your stomach.

This was real. This award. It had to be just luck, right? With shaking hands, you brought the award to eye level, your bottom lip jutting out.

“Why are you crying?”

Your head snapped up, hard, too fast, as you stumbled back, the voice was recognizable, a second nature. Strong arms caught you, steadying you and planting you back onto the floor.

“Slow down, angel.”

He was too close, his presence was suffocating. His grip was toxic and you were positive he was only going to get touchier if you let him. Just like you predicted, his hand came up to your hair, brushing back a strand behind your ear. Your breath halted as you quickly ripped yourself away from him, award clutched to your chest, unaware of Hoseok’s dark glare.

“I have to head back. Change out of this...clothing” You speedily ran off, turning the corner as you disappeared from Hoseok’s line of vision.

That was the line you gave him after every music award show for the past year, only winning Inkigayo for the first time. It was unusual to not be in the studio for the entire day, but instead sleeping on the makeup chair, stylists in their own world. You realized that Hoseok stopped coming and although you expected to have a sense of relief, his absence left a hollow feeling.

You didn't like being alone.

Filled with staff who you still didn't know, makeup artists who don't know you well, a manager who was busy discussing with shows, you missed him.

And it grossed you out. You were a joke. Did you forget your kiss-

Your eyes snapped open, the rattle of the van shaking your body. Practice. It was finally time to dance in the studio after a long day of shows and interviews.

You could see Hoseok again. You wanted his praise, his sweet words that weren't laced with bitter sentiments. And that rare smile that he barely showed. Could you earn that today too?

Hopping out of the vehicle, you stepped inside the BigHit building, the elevator carrying you up, your legs running down the halls and turning the studio door open.

Hoseok stood in front of the mirror, music blaring as he made several loud steps, arms in unison. Immediately, his eyes met yours, your breathless state noted, as well as your puffy winter coat and pink cheeks.

"You're back already?" He shouted over the music, his body still dancing as you shrugged off your coat, placing it on the rolly chair.

"Yeah." You called, shifting the weight of your feet as you brought both hands over your head, stretching and extending your body. With the final pump of your legs, you stood straight up, waltzing over the mirrors and studying your teacher's motions.

He moved effortlessly, like water, his body flowing and swaying with ease. You took several seconds, your pouting face unable to comprehend his motions. When you extended your hand out to mimic him, he laughed, coming to a halt and quickly pausing the music.

"Not like that." He instructed, his hands coming up to your arm as he lifted it in the air, attaining a similar posture as before. You nodded, going over each precise step, wondering if you’d be able to move like him one day.

“People say the goal isn’t to attain the perfect posture, to not mimic the teacher, but to stretch and reach for yourself. To make it your own. But-” His arm came up, hitting the back of your elbow as you instinctively straightened it out, eyeing him cautiously. “I think that’s a lot of bullshit.”

“As a dance teacher, it is my job to explain the basics, the foundations, continuously building on each various style. If the foundations are not perfect, how can I expect my students to continue improving, to build on top of the base if it’s ready to topple at any second?”

“Chin up.” He commanded, walking in a circle around you, looking from each direction. “Now, that is perfect posture.” He smiled. “Well done.”

When you brought your arms down, an immense relief flooded your body. The weight of having them raised in the air for what felt like hours was unexpectedly tiring.

“I want to be your dance instructor forever.”

You whipped your head, eyes meeting Hoseok as you almost stumbled backward by his intense stare. His words should’ve been unsettling, but yet, you found something endearing about it. Separation was always tough, an emotion you hated. In a way, you knew this moment would someday be over, the days of being a student gone.

It was similar to those idols who yelled ‘I want to be your singer forever’. It was these sentimental and vulnerable moments where nobody wanted to separate. It was like the last day of graduation, inevitable as each individual split to follow their own path, no longer together, the insides broken but never able to plead the other to stay.

Maybe Hoseok was right. He understood you. Maybe, you should meet him halfway, and try to understand him too for once. Maybe you too, feel the same way. So, you smiled, nodding your head.

“That does sound nice.”

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

The clank of glass on the coffee table was one of the only sounds in the spacious living room, high above the city of Seoul. The streets were littered in lights, the sun long gone, having fallen asleep several hours ago. Its sister woke up, the soft grey of the moon giving its greetings to the quiet admirer who stared out of the large windows. The hum of the air purifier and tick of the clock added to the ambiance of the calm nighttime.

The large sounding rattle of the doorknob broke through the silence, the jiggle of keys accompanying it. The sound of shoes on the tile was the next noises as the door softly closed, the light of the doorway alive as the button of the wall was pressed. Even the fumbling of plastic bags and the now discarded shoes reached your ears.

“You’re late.” You mumbled into your hand, still looking out the window, about sixty floors up.

“Are you mad about that?”

“No, I guess I’m not.”

Warm arms found their way on your stomach, a chin propped on your shoulder. “Angel, did you eat yet, today?”

You grunted, shaking your head. “No, haven’t been hungry.”

A sigh escaped from behind you, the arms releasing you. “We’re going to have to see the doctors soon then. You’re showing too many symptoms of an eating dis-” Hoseok paused, clearing his throat.

“I hate that this always happens to trainees in the end…” He mumbled. “I’ll be back.” He called from the hallway, walking off.

You gave him a slight hum of approval, still spacing out, your eyes gazing at the beauty of the city streets.

When you finally tore your vision away, you were greeted with the multiple shelves that lined your living room. A golden award sat on the display shelf, proof of the accomplishments of your career.

It all happened during the third year after your debut. You sat in the comfortable lounge chairs of Dongdaemun Design Plaza, a blanket across your lap as you were surviving the end of the year award shows. Spaced out for most of the show, it wasn’t until the intense cheers grew that you realized this wasn’t the time to lose focus.

You looked around, your eyes catching the monitor showing the candidates for the records of the year. From best music video to the best group, you forced yourself to pay attention. The ear-deafening screams gave you a mild headache, which further added to your irritable mood. It wasn’t until you saw your face as one of the candidates for Best Dance of the Year, that your heart started racing, but your thoughts still clouded.

You had forgotten you were a candidate.

You tried to hide your excitement to win the award, knowing the disappointment would only hit harder. Crossing your fingers and biting your lip, you looked down at the floor, the MC taking his sweet time in announcing the winner.

It was that day, you gave it all.

As you stood on the stage, the shimmering award in your hand, blinded by the thousands of lights, you smiled. You gave your thanks to the people who deserved it, pure happiness in your face.

At that moment, you forgot all about Hoseok. Not once in your speech did you mention him. It’s like you knew nothing of his existence. To this day, you still don’t know what exactly was going through your mind, but maybe it was your mood or maybe it was fatigue, or maybe it was loss of steam and finally wanting to settle down.

But that day, you ended it.

“I want to announce something.” You had said into the mic, trying your hardest not to squint. Your throat constricted as you breathed out harshly away from the microphone. “I’m retiring this year.”

You remembered the smirk that was on your face, no sadness laced in your voice as you said those liberating words. At that moment, you swore you felt free. The insane amount of pressure throughout the years had continuously piled on top of each other. From the obsessive sasaengs and the internet hate, combined with internal pressures from BigHit to have a successful comeback, the schedule crushed, you couldn’t breathe for a second.

The pressure to look a certain way, to reflect the unrealistic beauty standards, to maintain a strict diet and keep a certain weight, to present yourself perfectly even though, in the end, you were someone with flaws, was it unreasonable for you to not want this life anymore?

Even though the arena was filled with harsh gasps and absolute shock, you calmly walked off the stage, award in hand. The look on your manager’s face was also priceless, appalled by your speech. You simply handed the award to him to send back to the agency and walked off.

Little did you know, at the time, Hoseok was going crazy. Watching from backstage, his belongings fell from his hands and onto the floor as your words registered in his ears, his face twitching. He had convinced himself this was just a terrible joke. That if it were real, he would surely bring you back.

He sprinted out of the dressing room, panting as he scoured each crevice for you. He asked around, yelling in the hallways as he looked for any hint to where you had gone off to. What made matters worse was that you missed your interview for the award, which only made it more difficult for Hoseok.

“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?!” He called, running down another hallway. He came to a halt as he saw your figure by the staircases near the lobby, your head leaning against the wall with your legs sprawled out messily.

“Y/n? What was your speech abou-” Hoseok paused, kneeling and turning your head towards him, only to find tears streaming down your cheeks. “Oh my god,” He gasped, swiping your tears away. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer, prompting him as he shook your shoulder, the sound of hiccuping escaping your lips.

“Y/n!” Hoseok pleaded. “Please… Please talk to me. I don’t know what’s wrong unless you tell me.”

“H-hoseok…” You hiccuped, gripping harshly onto his neatly ironed striped dress shirt. “I don’t enjoy this anymore, Hoseok.” You cried. “I want to quit. I am quitting.”

“Dancing doesn’t make me happy anymore. I-I...I feel so hopeless, that I’ll never be able to feel good again. It’s like all the happiness is sucked out of me…”

You breathed out heavily, your body relaxing and letting the tears flow freely rather than forcing them in. “I get berated every day online and I don’t even know what for. I can’t even go online anymore without seeing myself. I can’t ever sleep, I can’t ever eat… because I…I- I don’t know! I know I shouldn’t care about what they think, and I really try, I do, I do! But then... I always find myself standing on top of the scale, weighing myself for who knows how many times that day..”

Hoseok ran his hand on your back, only listening as you desperately scraped all your courage together.

“It’s like no matter how long I sleep, I’m always tired.” You whispered. “Or sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, unable to go back to sleep, terrified of something.”

“Hoseok…” You sobbed, wetting his shirt, your voice cracking and failing. “Hoseok, I really want to d-”

A hand on your shoulder made you jump back to reality as you looked up, back in your living room, sixty-floors up, only to find Hoseok with wet hair and a towel on top of his head, draping down to his shoulder. Hoseok clearly noticed how he caught you off guard, your wide-eyed expression a rarity these days.

“Sorry, did I scare you?”

“Ah, no-kind of, yeah.” You muttered.

Hoseok leaned down, placing a soft peck on your lips, before leaving a full kiss. He smelled like soap, citrus escaping from his washed hair. Soft and slow, the kiss further relaxed you, your back leaning further into the cushions of the sofa. When your lips separated, his forehead met yours.

“Do you know what today is?” He whispered, his fingertips trailing down your cheek as you looked indifferently.

“I debuted on the 17th…” You muttered. “Today’s the 18th… You have the wrong date, Hoseok.”

Unexpectedly, Hoseok let out a laugh, bending over to clutch his stomach. “Wow, you were so confident too.” He grinned, moving close to you again, your lips almost touching.

“But, actually,” Hoseok continued. “Today’s my birthday.”

“Oh.”

“Surprising right?” He giggled almost cynically. “You should be embarrassed.”

“I’m not really…” You whispered, Hoseok leaning in for another caress of your lips, his hands coming up to cup your face. A whimper escaped your lips as he nibbled your bottom lip, eager for access into your mouth. You denied him, separating lips for a brief moment.

“So what are you?” You spat embarrassed, cheeks flushed. “Old?”

Hoseok smirked, a tongue running through his bottom lip. “Someone’s a bit rude today, don’t you think? Thirty-three.” He emphasized, poking your forehead. “Don’t tell me you forgot how old you are.”

“Excuse you.” You shoved his chest playfully. “Unlike you, I don’t have short-term memory.” The two of you laughed quietly together, your voices almost harmonizing as your hearts beat together. You moved up, meeting Hoseok’s lips with a smile to which he gladly reciprocated.

“Were you busy today?” You had whispered when your lips parted, breathing increased like the thumping of your chest.

“Yeah,” He hummed, bringing your lips back together, the dim lights in the living room barely illuminating his face. “Did you miss me, angel?”

“I seem to always miss you.”

“Me too.” Hoseok hummed. “But I feel better knowing you’re here. Knowing-” His hand brushed loose strands back and behind your ear. “Knowing you’re mine.”

Your cheeks stuck out as you gave him a small yet warm smile, very fitting for your reserved personality. “I feel better knowing someone cares about me.” You whispered, the glint in your eyes obvious despite the darkness that surrounded the two of you. “That someone won’t let me go.”

Hoseok took a seat next to you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your back into his chest. “Y/n,” He cooed, taking a whiff of your faded smell of vanilla. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Do you want me to?”

“You know I love it when you join me for dance practice…” He spoke gently, running his fingers over the palm of your hand, effectively relaxing you. “The trainees are such a hassle… It’s like every time you’re there with me, I get softer on them, but in a good way.” He added sheepishly, a smile probably on his face from the tone he spoke.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t go if you get soft.” You laughed, a pout slowly forming on Hoseok’s face. “I might… I’m just tired a lot. I don’t feel like doing anything most of the time.”

“I understand, angel.” He planted a kiss on the side of your temple, giving you a bright smile. “Don’t force yourself, yeah? I just like seeing you dance again.”

Your cheeks flushed, clearly fazed by his compliments and understanding. “Ahh,” You whined to yourself. “I’ll go then… I just… The paparazzi…”

An audible sigh escaped your lips, Hoseok tightening his hold on you, something about the action was cute as he tried to comfort you.

“They’ve been nosy, right?” Hoseok’s mouth near your ear as you nodded.

“I don’t blame them.” You admitted. “I would be intrigued too if I were in their position.” You licked your lips, continuing. “But it’s been years. Can’t they just give up? Can they just… stop trying to find an explanation for everything?”

“Right?” Hoseok agreed, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “The initial shock should be over. Just leave us alone.” He chuckled.

“Might I add, leave us alone forever.” You joked. “Knowing them, they’ll be back the next week.”

“We could prank or taunt them.” Hoseok proposed.

“That’s a terrible idea. It’ll spike their interest even more. They might never let it down.”

“Watch them write books.” Hoseok sneered. “An analysis on-!”

You chuckled, melting further into Hoseok’s hold. “Mmm, love you.”

Hoseok’s small dimples appeared on his cheeks, a slight hum as he planted another kiss on the side of your temple, bringing you even closer if there was even any difference from before.

“I love you too.” Hoseok murmured, his heart pounding in his chest, still thrilled whenever you said that word. Those words to him were his life, another source of his happiness. “Even if the world were to end tomorrow, it wouldn’t matter if you were alive next to me, breathing with me, heart beating with me-

“If you were completely in sync with me.”

#yandere bts #yandere hoseok #yandere hoseok x reader #bts series #bts angst #jung hoseok #bts hoseok #bts jhope #hoseok x reader #yandere jhope #yandere jhope x reader #jhope x read #kpop x reader #idol verse #bts fanfiction #hoseok fanfiction

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art-thropologist · 4 years

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A Portfolio of Recovery

If you’ve been following my entries, you’ll know that I recently had to go through some medical treatment. I am at a point now where I am willing to share some of the products of the art therapy that went along with that process. With each piece I’ll explain the prompt or the intention behind it and how I interpret the visual cues.

Please note that I will be talking about eating disorder behaviors, body image, and trauma. I use vague terms, but if these are triggering topics, then do not read. If you are in need of help with an ED, NEDA can get you support.

“Timeline” (2019). Color pencil on paper. Prompted.

The only instruction was to create a timeline that represents the development of my body image. Instead of using text I felt more comfortable conveying sentiments through line and color. The horizon line in the center represents the neutral base while rises indicate positive emotions and declines are negative. The timeline is divided into five stages with vertical lines; infancy, lower school, middle school, high school, and college.

The main colors change as my favorite color changed over the periods, but also reflecting other experiences. I began with blues and yellows as a toddler. Open and wide like a shining sky. I was a happy kid. Who didn’t think themselves invincible back then? I first started having issues with self worth during Elementary school. I was picked on for being ‘dumb’, bullied for being too emotional. Most of the time I was told to ignore the bullies. That doesn’t work. So then I was told not to react. That didn’t work either. It just taught me that I was the one causing issues. I began suppressing displays of emotion. I liked myself, but I figured that I was just always going to be someone else’s punching bag.

Middle school was supposed to be a time of growth. You finally become a teenager. In my case, you have a bat mitzvah and are then an adult to the community. Kids were still relentless in bullying. Add in tween hormones and angst, and you have a powder keg. I hit a growth spurt but I didn’t ‘measure up’ to the other girls. When my parent’s got divorced I blamed myself even though there was nothing I could have done. I felt buried under the pressures of being the perfect daughter as shown with the brown curve. My sister (only 3 years older than me) was my parent; waking me up, getting me to school, taking me to Hebrew school, getting me dinner, etc. Over this period I was forced to become self-sufficient. I had to. I was complimented a few times for being so adult for my age. I latched on to that as a way to build up my self worth. If i couldn’t be pretty, at least I could be mature. I was looking forward to high school as a promised land of new beginnings.

I guess I got what I wanted.

I’m not going into details about what happened. It was a traumatic event. That’s all you need to know. But it left me angry, broken, grieving, and hateful. Once again, I blamed myself even though what happened was in no way my fault. The way I was treated as a result only tore my self worth and body image to shreds. I was ugly. I was at fault. I wasn’t worth caring. I wasn’t good enough. Several years of therapy have let me process a lot of this period in my life. It was the start of my ED behaviors as I tried to make myself worth caring about. Black tainted my experience through a series of deaths. My lowest point was when I realized that I would be the next one if I didn’t get help for my ED.

Hope is purple to me. I began seriously writing in high school (nothing good. Nothing you write in high school is good. You think you’re the next Harper E. Lee or John Green with these big themes that you really don’t understand yet. But it was a way to get some of these big emotions out.) It gave me something to value about myself when I was still belittled as ‘stupid’. When I started college I began to get therapy for anxiety and my ED. Since then I’ve been building myself again. I am stronger. I am a survivor. I do not exist for the approval of others. It sparked a new light, a new fire for me.

“Dance” (2019). Colored pencil on paper. Free draw.

The three overlapping figures represent different dance styles that I’ve done. Red is Hula/Shawl. Green is Irish Step. Blue is Judaic Circle. It all overlaps to me.

“Movement” (2019). Oil pastel on paper. Prompted

Visualizing a group exercise where we were passing items across space. I’m the blue.

“Animals” (2019). Colored pencil and watercolor on paper. Prompted.

Draw three animals. The first is how you think others see you. The second is how you see yourself. The third is who you want to be.

Owl. The wise one. Solitary. Nocturnal. Independent. An omen maybe.

Salmon. Swimming upstream and trying to overcome the currents. Needs others to survive.

Fox. Cunning. Sleek. Adaptive. Wild.

I like the insular style of Tomm Moore and definitely took inspiration here. I wanted all of the animals to be connected in some way, so that style seemed best suited to that.

“Pondshore” (2020). Oil and chalk pastel on paper. Prompted.

What stood out the most during a walk outside?

“Nature walk” (2019). Crayon and oil pastel on paper. Prompted.

How did the nature walk make you feel?

I felt movement from the trees blowing in the wind, the grey sky over head, and my own body.

“How rare and beautiful it is to even exist” (2020). Pencil on paper. Prompted.

Create a mandala.

I pulled on the Tomm Moore style again with all of the components flowing into each other in some way. There are birds flying into the distance, a vine that becomes a raging sea, a woman before a fire, a sun in the sky and a half moon setting. Yes, the title is from Saturn by Sleeping at Last.

“Lyric” (2019). Colored pencil and pencil on paper. Prompted.

What inspires you?

I use sinuous lines of lyrics create my figure. I’m inspired by music and these are songs which have stuck with me.

Blue: “Hello, I've been waiting for you/ I didn't know if you'd recognize my voice/ Cause I've been whispering your name and I've been imagining this day hoping that I’ll say/ Welcome home/ Welcome home. (“Welcome Home” by Joy Williams)

Orange: “Well, I've been deep in this sleeplessness/ I don't know why/ Just can't get away from myself/ When I get back on my feet I'll blow this open wide/ And carry me home in good health” (“Who Do You Love” by Marianas Trench)

Red: “This is gospel for the fallen ones/ Locked away in permanent slumber/ If you love me let me go/ 'Cause these words are knives that often leave scars/ The fear of falling apart” (“This is Gospel” by P!ATD)

Yellow: “How do you write like you're/ Running out of time?/ Write day and night like you're/ Running out of time?/ Like you're running out of time/ Are you running out of time?/ How do you write like tomorrow won't arrive?” (“Non-Stop” from Hamilton)

Purple: “When I die/ I don't want to rest in peace/ I want to dance in joy/ I want to dance in the graveyards/ And while I'm alive/ I don't want to be alone/ Mourning the ones who came before/ I want to dance with them some more/ Let's dance in the graveyards/ Gloria, like some other name/ We kept on calling ya” (“Dance in the Graveyard” by Delta Rae)

“Billowing out a River from My Lungs” (2019). Watercolor, colored pencil, and oil pastel on paper. Free draw.

I’m actually working on a newer version of this. It was just something to explore mediums and a bit of meditative practice.

“Emotions (Sadness, Creativity, Loneliness, Hope, Grief, Sonder)” (2019). Watercolor on paper. Prompted.

Pick six emotions and represent them.

Sadness is dark to me, heavy, and spiraling. It’s a whirlpool that drags you down.

Creativity is spontaneous, bright and orange like flowers. I tried to convey that with different strokes and a golden spark in the corner.

Loneliness is hard and harsh absence. That feeling of emptiness despite being surrounded by love and compassion.

Hope is green, a path in the forrest that is moving upward, forward.

Grief is red and raw at first and then the longing fades in, dark and deep.

Part 2 is coming soon

#my art #a portfolio of recovery #art #art history #art historian #hey look art

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kinoalyse · 4 years

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10 Photography Tips for Bloggers

LEARN PHOTOGRAPHY BASICS

There are hundreds of thousands of blogs out there that offer the basics of photography but the reason this stands out is because there is a surprising lack of quality photography across travel blogs. Therefore, one way to shine among the crowd is by showcasing your photography. First, explore the "Exposure Triangle," which is the relationship between aperture, shutter speed, and ISO. There's no shame in using automatic but sometimes a scene needs your assistance, such as a bright sky against architecture or a prop (wine bottles, ice cream, etc.).

Perfect Sky But... This isn't a terrible mid-range exposure but if you point your lens to the sky (or "expose for the sky"), the sky will be prefect but your architecture might be too dark for us to recover in post.

Perfect Interior, But... With an automatic camera, if you point your lens at the interior, this is what it will produce: perfect interior with a blown out sky that's impossible to recover. An automatic camera automatically exposes for where your lens is pointing. For the advanced, if you move your exposure square, it will expose where that square is when you lightly press the shutter. By learning how to use your camera more effectively, you can produce better work that stands out. If there's demand, I'm happy to write a quick and easily digested blog about photography basics. Leave a comment below or Tweet me if that would be helpful.

EXPLORE DIFFERENT GENRES

Second, what is the theme of your blog? If it's quite specific, such as food around the world, consider the different angles you can take to tell the story of that food. What of the chefs, the building, where the food comes from? To illustrate, a typical food blog features the food and wine placed on their table: food photography. However, if you want to tell a different story and, again, offer a fresh perspective, start exploring different genres of photography. In order to photograph the chefs, one would want to dabble in portraiture or street photography. Furthermore, to tell the story of a restaurant with a history, consider architectural photography.

Night Changing the time that you shoot can completely diversify your portfolio and is more visually interesting.

Portraiture Portraiture helps blogger to pull readers into their story. See Using Human Elements for more information.

Architecture Architecture connects readers to where you are and the people who inhabit the location. Always tell a story.

Take Notes

Travel takes a lot out of us. As you shoot, remember to take notes of your experiences, especially as you move: one city contains any number of photographic features in different sectors and you may not realize you've changed locations. Take notes of your surroundings to make sure you aren't misleading your readers and especially in case you decide to make money with stock photography in the future. https://vimeo.com/286921266

Tell a Story

Telling a story requires creativity and a willingness to explore different shooting methods. For example, street photographers use a method called "shooting from the hip." Instead of shooting from a standing position, the camera is placed near their hip to not only give their photos a different angle, but the camera is less obvious. In this photo, I had visited a city with a couple of famous landmarks and decided to skip them entirely in favor of exploration. I later realized that this town had been devastated by an earthquake years prior. At first glance, this is just an archway with a window reflecting the sunset. I wanted to invite the viewer to look closer for the story, the acorns littering the ground, unkept foliage, cracks in the stone. It becomes quite clear that this section of the city hasn't been maintained by citizens in years.

Leave White Space

White space is empty space within your photo, perfect for banner backgrounds because it lacks 'business' against your font. Play attention to white space while you shoot. skeleton plans, open schedules

plan flexibly

The rewards for patience is often worth the story itself. Be patient if your sunrise isn't incredible. Stay another half-hour in case the rain lets up. Flexibility in photography means using the unexpected to your advantage. Planning a vacation and having an open mind is totally different from patience in photography. When you plan your locations, remember that the weather, people, situations are not always as expected. Use these 'problems' to tell a story.

Use A Human element

Thank you to CrossroadAdventure for the question! A human element adds relatability to your scene. First, let's observe an ice cream cone in front of a famous landmark. keep to your tone

Photographer: WeNeal's Photography and Retouching Alongside the right blog tone, this is a genuinely effective photo. Additionally, there is consideration for the framing and elements: they've gone with pastel nails and vibrant ice cream colors along with framing the fountain behind them. Coupled with the correct tone of a blog, this photo can be especially effective: it communicates a story in front of a famous destination and two people enjoying their cloudless afternoon. A human element also adds scale. Without the photoshopped man in the background would you look twice at this photo? A viewer has no concept of how large the driftwood and bushes are nor the rock in the background. Further, it was shot wide angle so scale is already an illusion. Placing a human element psychologically brings the viewer in. Simultaneously, a human element invites them to look again, even search for more easter eggs (hidden elements). This also means people stay on my website longer. My visitor retention skyrockets when I add something relatable. I have a lot to say about props: for more depth, Using Human Elements discusses more on the stereotypes of photography and how you should plan your own photos. Create Scale

Edit consistently

In addition to sticking to your tone, you should edit your photos within one blog post identically and within the blog itself, similarly. In the gallery below, two of the photos match styles. The other two were edited as I continued to learn and, as such, lack a cohesive style. Look specifically at the blues. The first and second photos were edited with the same saturation and hue of blue in Lightroom. The third has intense, saturated cyan and more rusty yellows. Finally, the last photo has darker blues and far less vibrant than the others. Much like the tone of your text, don't stray from a specific style in a single post.

get creative with props and people

perspective Change the angle. Crouch, look up/down, creative placement that isn't from a standing position

light Look for interesting light such as bokeh, light filtering through the trees, and soft reflections off glass.

composition Find interesting foreground and background placement where your subjects can interact.

BEST CAMERAS FOR BLOGGERS

Until I am blue in the face: the camera does not contribute to the artistry of photography until the mind behind it understands how to use their camera as an intended tool. However, some cameras do make layman lives easier. Here is what I recommend for different types of bloggers - thank you to Dancing Pandas for the question! Cheap powerhouse: Canon G7 X Mark II

This is my vlogging camera, nearly four years old and is still kicking after moving around the US and overseas multiple times. Not only is the camera itself small and lightweight, the batteries and chargers are as well. It takes gorgeous photos, has stabilization for video, and a wide range of automatic features, such as timelapses and night photography. For the layman and especially for the price, this camera is a dream. Compact DSLR: CANON REBEL T6

My first DSLR camera was the Canon Rebel T2i, my first truly daunting purchase. The T6 is a better camera and less expensive. It takes quality photos and has features like wifi connectivity, creative tools like HDR, and great autofocus. It has similar power to more expensive cameras without the weight and complexity, although the crop censor is something to consider. The Rebel line continues to impress. ACtion Camera: GoPro Hero 7 BLack

The GoPro is a huge contender. For action without quality sacrifice, 4k video, voice commands, automatic HDR photography, timelapse and hyperlapse photography, wifi-enabled... I envy you if you've got this mounted. I can't wait to see what they do next: GoPro created one smart camera for any situation I could dream of finding myself in. The best part: it's relatively cheap compared to any other cameras on this list. Best mirrorless: Sony A7 II

Although there is a newer Mark III model out, I think it has an overwhelming amount of bells and whistles. This version remains one of the best mirrorless, lightweight cameras on the market. It is able to automatically shoot simple, automatic photography but the moment you decide to really get into shooting, it also comes ready with professional features. It's the middle ground between professional and hobbyist. Phone photography: Samsung Galaxy S10+

At the end of the day, the best camera is the one you have with you. Camera photography is no joke. Samsung's Galaxy S10+ features a wide angle lens (equivalent to 12mm) and crazy manual control you usually only get from a paid app otherwise. This also means control over your focus. Want dreamy backgrounds? You got it. Insane zoom? Comes standard. It also takes full 1080 60FPS video for that extra bang for your buck. BEST DRONE: DJI Mavic Air

If you don't have a drone can you even come to the photographers' table these days? DJI has made droning more accessible than ever through their Spark and Mavic Air. I recommend the Air specifically for professional bloggers as it is lightweight and compact, contains a wealth of features (timelapse, tracking, full HDR, even filters!), and comes with everything you need to get started. Quality drone photography and video? Look no further. DJI Mavic Air. If you want more of me or my work: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | Art Industry Read the full article

#Adobe #tutorial

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