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#ill also accept the white coat outfit
dcminions · 2 years
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the outfit montage from the devil wears prada ( 2006 ) ⏤ ft . the chanel boots !
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cowboyjen68 · 2 months
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hi jen!! i wanted to let you know how much your advice means to me as a young butch as well as ask you for some advice.
i live in a tight-knit community and go to a small school. because my school is so small, we are allowed to attend prom all four years of high school. i didn't go my freshman and sophomore year despite my friends encouragement. last year i got asked by a girl as well and i turned her down. im in my junior year now and i still don't want to go. the thing is that there's this girl (who i like) who wants me to go. i feel like she likes me too and i don't want to disappoint her.
my avoidance to prom has to do with the whole dressing up fancy deal. ive avoided the first two years because i am uncomfortable wearing dresses and am worried about what people would think of me if i wore not-a-dress. the area where i live isn't super homophobic, but i know plenty of people that are. some people i know and care about are a little bit homophobic too. im worried about what people would think of me if i dressed unconventionally like that. people talk, as im sure you know. im worried about being discredited or belittled for my sexuality. i know some other queer teens, but it feels like such a jump to show up to prom in a suit. especially since im not explicitly out to many people yet and am generally cautious/apprehensive.
im considering wearing a dress to prom so i can show up with this girl, even though i know ill be uncomfortable. shes a nice girl and would probably encourage me to wear what i want if she knew how i felt, same with my friends.
i don't know if it's worth it though. i am scared of what people will think about me. im a year and a half away from college and living my best, queerest life. i could just wait. but i also don't want to regret not going and missing out on those classic teen experiences.
my heads swimming and id love your input!! i really admire you and want to be like you someday. thanks <3
I remember high school. I too went to a small rural school back in the 1980's. IT is not as easy as some people say. Those of us older often forget that high school is bascially a "closed" society that we are stuck in for all for years so every decision seems to hold weight. Doing something out of step with the "status quo" can have consequences we have to deal with for whatever is left of our 4 years.
SO older lesbians telling youngers to "do what you want" or "just be yourself" or "you have it so much easier than I (we) did" is not only unhelpful it can be detrimental at best and dangerous at worst. Some of my generation look back to high school through the lens of time and experience that think we "would have been more brave" and that NOW young lesbians have the freedom to do as they please because public sentiment and laws have turned in our favor. High school is just not that different now and laws and adult reactions do not apply.
SO here is my advice. Go with your crush. But ask her to go with you to pick an outfit. You do not have to wear a dress. It is wholly acceptable for women to wear suits. You don't have to wear a generic man's tux or suit, they are often ill fitting and boxy anyway, especially on women. GO to a tux or suit shop that sells women's styles and fit. You don't have to do the man's style with the tie and suit coat. A pair of black slacks, a white button down, can be pleated (woman's style) or not and a nice black vest without a tie is perfectly nice formal wear for a high school prom. To dress it up you can wear a colored vest either solid or with a pattern.
Any decent place that sells or rents formal wear will have women cut suits. Rental is not cheap but it is worth spending your hard earn bucks to look fabulous and feel confident. Check in your local suit shops, even department stores like JC Penneys or similar. Many offer women's suits and even have a list of local tailors that can do a fitting.
You might have to compromise a bit on what you would really like to wear but I think giving a little on the outfit and still having a style you feel okay in will be a small price to pay to spend a wonderful night out with her.
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blackheart-6 · 3 months
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dess-ember day 31/31
hi yall
today i bring my final entry!! i cant believe i made it
its a dess ref, but after the events of deltarune, where i imagine she will be freed
fun fact, i actually made the dess ref i still use exactly a year ago, so thats neat ^^
im not sure if I will keep this design for her being older (the age i usually draw her as is like 15 or 16), but i feel like it turned out okay
i made her a researcher (she researches things to do with souls and magic, things that exist in deltarune but arent really known about in my headcanons), but im unsure if it was the right choice. i imagine she got stuck with gaster in the code for a couple of years, but before that she didnt know what she wanted to do with her life. the way I see it, the gaster in the code with her is the one from undertale, so he has a lot of knowledge on magic and stuff, and learning about it was interesting and helpful for her, and after she got out she wanted to share her knowledge and learn more.
as i said, i dont know if this was a good choice of career, considering she wasnt really the type to become a researcher, but she also changed when she was in the code, so idk. i might change it later.
and for her design, i tried to keep her unruly look as much as possible, despite her job. i changed her hairstyle, keeping it short but giving her a side part and little hair pieces in front of her ears.
i also gave her glasses. i imagine shes needed them for awhile, but she didnt want to look like a nerd 😂 now shes just accepted her fate. i also gave her piercings on her ears, just as a callback to some of my older drawings of her, where i gave her piercings there too.
for her outfit, i gave her a pair of basic dress pants, and a turtleneck (because i love turtlenecks a bit too much lol). and then i gave her a green jacket/coat thing, cause i had to keep her with green, ofc.
and for accessories, i gave her a watch (to match with noelles watch), and i gave her a bracelet with noelles sweater colors. i also gave her a white ring on her left hand, because when i looked it up that was where aro rings were (i hope thats accurate lol).
and thats it, my final entry! its so weird that im here, i didnt think i would make it. i thought id get bored, or too busy, or run out of ideas or something, but i made it. there was a lot of struggle sometimes, and there was ideas i had planned that i never got to, but i feel like it really helped me, having this month. ive definitely gotten better at drawing dess, and i feel like my anatomy and posing had gotten better ^^. though, i dont know if ill do this again. it was difficult, and next year ill be in college, so i might be too busy. i guess we will just wait and see 😁
during this month, ive also thought a lot about dess in general. i have so many thoughts and ideas involving her, yet we still have such little knowledge on her. its weird, i have this whole dess created, but one day she will become obsolete, and we will see who dess actually is. i dont know how to feel about it. but, until we actually see dess, i plan to keep drawing my dess, and i might keep drawing her after we see dess, it just depends. even if im nervous to see her, i cant wait either!
but thats enough of my ramblings, im sure nobody read all that, so for a tldr, i just talked about why i designed older dess like that, my thoughts on my dess-ember, and my thoughts on dess ^^
i hope yall have a wonderful new years!! 🥳🥳
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capsteam9 · 2 years
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All about Quantitative mapping of human hair greying and reversal in
Do you have gray hair in your 20s? When would you consider having blonde hair in your 20s? What helps make you decide on the ideal hair type for this? Are you appearing for something various in my closet? Are you appearing for something a little even more manly in your 20s? What is my favorite moment in your lifestyle and life would be right now? What recommendations would you provide to other teens in your situation?
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Below are 3 easy house treatments to reverse untimely greying Untimely gray hair can be a actual ordeal but you can turn around the method and protect against them. Listed below are some personal tips that will certainly assist. What can easily you take? Clear away any type of deposits with a item that is 100% natural. It's a really popular cleansing and I extremely recommend that you administer at least 2 coats of LIDEN (a non-diluted petroleum-based hair shampoo product). No matter what the age is, indicators of silver streaks popping out of your hair may result in a tiny panic attack. This has been proved with several products that are actually utilized to conceal silver pieces in your hair. This straightforward physical exercise can take up to two hrs, and it's the only opportunity you can feel the silver in your hair. Once it is worn, you may start putting on it even further through shaving, taking back and covering up any type of gold trimming at that time. Accepting it in your very early 20’s is pretty considerably a calamity. If you go to that event in a hurry, you'll desire to stick with each other as a team. But you do not possess to stick with each other all the time. I say this as an example of an take in that definitely produced me prefer to move in the instructions of a higher-intensity task: Wishing to watch movies, drinking some draft beer, and talking with pals during the day. Though we may criticize genetics to a specific amount for the look of it, they aren’t the main explanation for whites and greys in your hair. It's like how redheads and blues and woes are various in their skin hue. It really is just that the look of them isn't as different because they are different skin types in different methods. Greying is not always a indication of understanding, in some cases it's merely the way your physical body reacts to harmful diet plan, stress, contamination and unsatisfactory water high quality. When speaking concerning how to exercise for quality of lifestyle, you probably receive all this focus because every opportunity you speak concerning exercise there are actually a variety of types of physical exercise and how to work out is an physical exercise that may aid always keep you literally fit and keep your concentration. If you are freaking out, standing in front of the mirror plucking out the greys one through one, below is what you need to know. If you are reading this, you will definitely look at this in much much higher meaning than you would normally locate it. It reveals the distinction on the surface between dark and lighting in the dark vs. in the lighting. Observe how on the black area all the brown markings on the panel (phoned the bottom) seem completely dark. Early grey is not typical but can easily be turned around. It is also gotten in touch with "fiber". You may find it discovered in your outfit coming from the wardrobe web page, if you are in need of it for a particular year. Some blue clothing with gray pigmentations might be available listed below. There are likewise various species of fiber which can easily merely reproduce in the fall, from the same species, the exact same colour and the same dimension. The improvement in hair colour can be as a result of to vitamin shortage, autoimmune illness where one sheds melanin, overuse of chemical dyes, hair shampoos and so on. The new examination might also provide an concept of the possible damaging impacts of alcoholic drinks. Other brand new analysis has additionally shown that the melanin loss could possibly be as a result of to a modification in germs. Find More Details On This Page at the University of California, Davis, located that computer mice fed a higher carbohydrate diet had less tissues when left open to alcohol. Below we bring to 3 effortless home treatments to deal with versus the greys! The very first, a quick note pertaining to these is that by utilizing a liquid that includes vitamin-3, you are going to only be taking in the excess electricity coming from veggies. This energy are going to continue to be readily available over time in your body system for many months. As a reminder, most of the opportunity the excess energy you will definitely be eating will come from points that don't straight gain you, such as plants. Though there are plenty of chemical remedies and hair dyes readily available in the market, they come along with a listing of edge effects and a pocket getting rid of expense. Right here are some of their main protection action. 1. Do not get tested along with other chemicals on your scalp or hair Exposure to lead in your hair or scalp may lead to skin layer cancer, lung and soul strike. Natural treatments may be relied on for zero edge impacts and regular app may show named beneficiary outcome. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration, after creating safety recommendations, currently recommends that all products assessed and used before use be assessed and stated to FDA for possible side effects. The company suggests that extra relevant information on the safety and effectiveness of particular plant based preparations must be included in the function to be reported to FDA. Amla and coconut oil Thanks to its anti-oxidants and anti-ageing properties, Indian gooseberries are ideal for reversing premature grey hair. Citrus fruits and veggies Indian gooseberries are a popular selection for cutting down on processed glucose, specifically while prepping foods items, like processed coffee. This helps to offer them a eco-friendly hue. This organic sugar likewise assists with decreasing worry triggered by sunshine visibility.
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rodr1cks · 3 years
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Sick Day | 2.1k
fluff!! you’re sick and rodrick comes to the rescue.
warnings: vomit, being sick in general
All day you had been feeling extremely ill. The nurse at school was being impossible and refused to send you home, despite your pleas.
“Please Mrs. Williams, I feel terrible you have to believe me!”
She was extremely skeptical, “Child, do you know how many times I hear that in a day? You don’t have a fever, back to class.”
And just like that, you were dismissed. Sent to endure the rest of your classes in misery.
The day went by painfully slow after your trip to the nurse. The fluorescent lights berated your pupils making it impossible to concentrate and worsening your headache.
It was sixth period, the last class of the day. Also your least favorite class of the day. You couldn’t stand the teacher. Mr. Wright. He was your classic asshole history teacher.
You were completely zoned out, trying to focus on not vomiting. Your name being called pulled you out of your haze.
“Miss y/l/n? Do you care to answer me? Unless you’re busy of course.”
Condescending bastard.
You held your tongue, swallowing any smart-ass comments that threatened to spill past your lips. You cleared your throat.
“I’m sorry, what was the question.”
He went through the whole “this is a learning environment” lecture after that. Again, you didn’t listen. You couldn’t have even if you wanted to. Thankfully, he left you alone after that.
Finally, the last bell of the day sounded through the school. You lept from your seat and ran to the bathroom. You practically body slammed the door open. Luckily, the bathroom was empty, most kids having already filed out of the main doors, eager to begin their weekend festivities.
You were hunched over one of the white porcelain bowl, tears filling your eyes.
Today could not get any worse.
After taking a few deep breaths, you were able to compose yourself enough to exit the bathroom.
You crossed your fingers, hoping that the halls had been completely evacuated.
You crept through the empty corridors and out into the parking lot. You were especially dreading the walk home today.
You were walking through the parking lot, enjoying the fresh air when you saw him. Rodrick Heffley.
The two of you were best friends in elementary school but you drifted apart after a while. You honestly developed a certain distaste for him, as he had you.
Please don’t notice me, please don’t-
“Y/n!”
Shit.
“Rodrick!” you feigned enthusiasm.
His brow furrowed, “You look… paler than usual?” You rolled your eyes, classic Rodrick. You wanted this interaction to end, immediately. “Yup. Not feeling well.” You deadpanned, providing little detail.
Rodrick hesitated for a moment, “Well, let me drive you home, kid.”
Kid. Who did he think he was?
“I think I’ll pass, weather is nice today.” The weather was far from nice.
“Oh really, the weather is nice, y/n? Where are you right now? Because it’s raining where I am.”
He sighed, “and I also saw that little performance Mr. Wright gave you...”
Oh so he pities me.
“Rodrick, If I get in your van will you stop talking?”
He motioned, pretending to zip his lips up and throw away the key. A small smile spread across your face but you didn’t let him see that.
A few minutes into the drive, you decided you were glad you let him take you home. The sky had opened up and it was storming.
Oh God.
“Rodrick, pull over, now.”
He looked over at you and could tell what was about to happen. He pulled over quickly and you opened the door. You leaned over and vomited right onto the grass patch parallel to the road, in the pouring rain.
Coyly, you returned to your seat in the van. You were unsure if you should apologize, so you stayed silent.
“Y/n, are your parents home?”
He knew they never were. Ever since you were a kid, your parents had been anywhere but home. Business trips, vacations, retreats, you name it.
You looked down at your shoes, water dripping from your hair, and shook your head.
“Alrighty then, change of plans.”
You protested, “Rodrick that’s really not necessary I’ll be fine.” Part of you knew there was no point in arguing. If he was one thing, it was stubborn.
He reached out, placing the back of his hand on your forehead to prove a point, “Y/n, you’re burning up. You’re coming with me.”
You were closer to his house anyways. That’s how you justified it, at least.
His van pulled into The Heffley’s driveway. Rodrick got out and rushed around the vehicle to open your door.
“Come along, y/n. I know somebody who will be very happy to see you,” he grinned.
The front door swung open and you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. The Heffley’s house was always warm and always smelled spectacular. Somehow, Mrs. Heffley was always baking or cooking something.
“Y/n? What a nice surprise this is!” Mrs. Heffley beamed. She had always loved you. “How I’ve missed seeing your face around here!” She said, placing her hands on your checks.
“You’re soaking wet!” You nodded awkwardly in response. “And goodness, you’re burning up! Are you feeling alright?” She felt your forehead and cheeks, then squeezed your shoulders gently.
From a young age, Mrs. Heffley had looked after you as one of her own. Nothing had changed it seemed.
“No, actually,” you smiled half-heartedly. Mrs. Heffley frowned at you. “Rodrick, get her some dry clothes, would you?.” Rodrick nodded, leading you up the stairs.
You stood in his room, obviously uncomfortable. He was knelt in front of his dresser, digging around for something.
“Ah! Here it is.”
Rodrick whipped out a t-shirt for you to change into. He grabbed a pair of black sweats from another drawer as well.
“Here you are, mademoiselle.” He stuck out the wad of clothing in your direction. You couldn’t lie, you were happy to have some dry clothes to change into.
You stepped into his bathroom, taking a moment to examine your appearance. You looked rough. Intense bags hung low under your eyes and you truly did look more pale than usual. Fantastic.
You emerged from the bathroom, Rodrick’s clothing drooping slightly from your frame. Rodrick was sitting on the end of his bed and he patted the surface.
You joined him on his twin mattress, only because you were exhausted.
“Rodrick, why are you being nice to me?”
He looked guilty. “You’ve had a rough day, y/n…”
He sucked in a breath, “...and y’know I’ll always care about you.”
How could he still care for you? You completely wrote him off when high school began.
“Listen, y/n, the past is in the past, okay?”
A genuine smile appeared on your face. Before the moment could become too sentimental, Rodrick interjected.
“Oh! Be right back,” he chirped.
He ran downstairs and came back with an orange soda and some cold & flu medicine.
Rodrick explained himself, “Orange! Like, vitamin C, right?” He looked too happy with himself, you couldn’t bring him down. At least his heart was in the right place.
Concealing your laughter to the best of your ability, you accepted the beverage and medicine from his hand.
You hated this kind of medicine with your whole heart. The orange soda could be useful honestly, just not for its nutritional value like Rodrick intended.
Rodrick measured out the appropriate amount of the medicine for you as you cracked open the can. He handed you the small cup full of the thick, red liquid.
You threw back the grotesque cherry flavored solution, grimacing as it coated your throat. You chased the medicine with the orange soda. See, it did come in handy.
You leaned back into Rodrick’s pillows, trying to relax.
About fifteen minutes later you felt extremely drowsy. “Rodrick, can I see that bottle?”
“Uh, sure,” he said, confused.
You read the bottle and instantly threw your head back in annoyance. “Rodrick this is the drowsy kind!” You continued inspecting the bottle, “and it’s extra strength!”
With each second passing, it got increasingly difficult to keep your eyes open.
Everything was blurry and you were teetering between consciousness and sleep.
“Rodrick,” you slurred. “I’m so sorry I stopped talking to you… stopped being your friend. Felt like I wasn’t cool or pretty enough… didn’t deserve you.”
Rodrick was extremely confused. You thought you were too good for him? He had to hold back a laugh.
He couldn’t conceal his smile, “Excuse me? Y/n, that must be the nyquil talking.” He rolled his eyes and brushed off your comment, contemplating the sentiment for a mere moment.
You eventually drifted off, unable to ward off sleep any longer.
When you woke up, you first noticed rodrick. He was sitting on his beaten up couch with his headphones covering his ears. You could hear the muffled baseline from your spot across the room.
How are his eardrums still intact?
Rodrick had a shoebox on his lap and he was shuffling through the contents, smiling to himself.
You cleared your throat, obtaining his attention.
“Oh, y/n! You’re up!” He smiled at you, ripping off his headphones.
You nodded slowly, knuckling your eyes sleepily.
“What time is it?”
Rodrick glanced at his watch, “It’s only 8:30.” You nodded again, continuing to rub the sleep from your eyes.
Rodrick stood, picking up the box and walking over to you. “Look,” he said softly. You peered down into the small shoebox and numerous photos and letters.
“This one here is my favorite,” he said quietly. It was a picture of you and Rodrick at the roller rink. You recognized the photo immediately.
“Seventh grade kick off,” you smiled. You took the box from his lap and began looking through each photo, braided friendship bracelet, concert ticket.
You laughed as each item brought back memories you had long forgotten.
You stopped at a photo of the two of you dressed up in ridiculous outfits. You wore a sequined hat and Rodrick held his drumsticks in hand.
“Was this when we saw Good Charlotte?” You asked.
He giggled, “It sure was. I remember thinking I looked so hot that night. Guess not huh.”
“What are you talking about, you looked incredible Rodrick. Seventh grade me was dying to jump you right then and there.”
His face lit up, “Really?”
“No,” you flashed him an expressionless look before breaking out into side-splitting laughter. He joined you.
You missed this feeling of pure, unadulterated joy. Rodrick was the only person who you had truly experienced that with.
You sighed to yourself. Come tomorrow, you’d be back to strangers. Tears welled up in your eyes and your lip quivered. Rodrick was oblivious until a single tear drop fell onto the photograph below you.
He immediately tried to comfort you. He placed an arm around your shoulder, dragging you into his larger frame. It caught you off guard but you allowed yourself to melt into his touch.
Rodrick distracted you from your sorrow. “Look at this one right here.” It was a photo of you and the Heffley Family in their backyard. You and Rodrick were around fifteen, if you remembered correctly.
“This was the day that I realized I had a big, fat crush on you.”
He followed up, “S’lame I know…”
Heat flooded your cheeks, this time the heat was not a result of your illness. Was it anxiety? Happiness? Both? You couldn’t decide.
“You never really explained why you stopped talking to me and coming by my house.”
You shrugged at him, feeling like your explanation would make him mad. “Well, Rodrick, you started getting new friends. Friends that were better than me or cooler than me.”
“Y/n that is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I could never replace you. To this day, nobody’s ever come close.”
He gave you a playful smack over the head.
“...anyways, to be honest that crush never really went away?”
Before you had time to process the sentence he was gently grabbing your chin, turning your head.
You were facing him now, your lips only inches away from his.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Y-yeah, yes, I think so, yeah.”
He laughed at you and leaned in slowly. Rodrick used one finger to gently move your hair out of your face.
The kiss was gentle and filled with emotion.
You felt like you hadn’t known what you were missing out on until that moment. You felt completed.
“Oh shit, I better not get sick!”
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dodo-begone · 3 years
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See's Dodo and anons reaction to last ask.
Me: externally blushing like crazy. Internally AAAAAAAHHAHAHAHAHA *squealing noise s*
Well you know what they say the show must go on.
Wilbur was the first of the royals to really notice, after all most of his time with you was spent inside in the library since he had convinced his father to allow him to teach you instead of hiring teachers, but you never had less than two layers of clothing on even when indoors you had a large shirt and coat on. Even if it was winter now you were first brought to the castle in summer but you attire remained the same a shirt two sizes too big and a coat also large on you it was a small wonder you didn't suffer form heat stroke, maybe it was a case of those being the only clothes you owned well that wouldn't do it would be a poor showing if visiting diplomats thought they treated their (new sibling) guests with such little care and honesty buying you a new wardrobe didn't even make a dent in his personal finances. Still it was strange that both you and Tommy insisted on your new clothes being a size or two too big and also made of lighter cloth not the wool that was so common for winter attire but at the very least your and Tommy's insistence meant that he got to choose the colours of the outfits in return. Of course the main colours were white and a navy blue you were a member of the Royal (family) Court now it was only right you wore their colours, still the insistence on lighter materials for your clothes did worry him a little the winters were harsh he didn't want his (sibling) little brothers friend getting sick maybe he should bring this up with the others maybe they would know why you never took off that coat.
Techno hadn't noticed the whole coat issue until his twin pointed it out but now that Wilbur had he couldn't stop noticing it. Even when you spared with him you didn't take off the coat heck you never wore armour saying that armour only slowed you down, you had even balked, gone pale when he offered you enchanted iron armour turning down the gift and walking swiftly away. At first he and chat had felt rather rejected (sibling rejection arc, pog, e, e, Technosad) after all you had even if reluctantly accepted Wilbur gift of a new wardrobe but you were rejecting his gift, he had wanted to give you armour so he could teach you his style of fighting but you didn't want that apparently. Though now he thought about it your and theseus's apparent insistence on lighter fabrics and the rejection of the iron armour might not be as coinsidental as he might have thought, after all he had seen you shivering a few times when you thought he wasn't looking but you had refused the much warmer wool for cloth so it wasn't just you being stubborn did, did you have some sort of skin problem or other ailment that caused you pain or irritation if you wore heavy clothes or armour. Oh of course you would go pale at the idea of wearing iron armour if that was the case plus it would explain the constantly wearing a coat since you probably didn't want them to know out of misguided fear of their reaction after all he had seen how superstitious some peasants could be about such conditions from his time training new soldiers. Theseus would know you did have such a condition after all you were practically joined at the hip, but it was getting very late, tomorrow he would find Theseus and ask if he knew the reason why now he needed to find his father.
Tommy most certainly did know the reason why you never wore armour and always had a coat on. He was currently sat on your bed, both of your backs to the door, preening the reasons why you letting out quiet chirps as he helped straighten and re-aligh your feathers, after all your wings didn't exactly appreciate being covered by your coat the whole day he couldn't even imagine how much worse your wings would have been if Wilbur hadn't listened and just gotten a heavy wool coat. He remembered when your wings first came through a few years ago when your friendship was still new, you had been complaining about a rash that had suddenly appeared on your back a few days prior only to fall to the ground in pain mid sentence, he was honestly grateful that his family didn't keep track of their potion supply considering how many regen potion you needed when your wings came out leaving rather large exit wounds on your back, if he wasn't able to get those potions he didn't even want to think about what could have happened to you. Now you were here though and he couldn't let anyone know about your wings if even a servant or stable boy saw it would trickle back to his brother and his dad if Philza found out he would never let you leave, you would become as trapped as him maybe even more so due to his dad's instincts. Unfortunately since both of your backs were to the door neither of you spotted the winged watcher peering through the cracked open door.
Philza was on his way to his newest (child) guests chambers after his eldest two had come to him with worrying news about their newest ( family member) permanent. Wilbur told tales of light clothing even in winter while Techno quiet shared his own worries of them being ill and hiding it from them but to him those weren't the signs of illness no they were signs that you were like... no he should get excited it was probably an illness after all his investigations had shown that it wasn't just bandits that ravaged his nation but hybrid hunters a particularly disgusting breed of bandit that targeted hybrids to sell as pets or in the case of winged hybrids to harvest their wings as decorations. That infuriated him after all he had founded this nation to be a safe haven for hybrids but due to his own negligence they were hunted down, if you were like... him it would be a small miracle that you hadn't been taken by those hunters. Reaching the room in question open a crack he went to knock when he heard a soft chirping pausing he looked through the crack to see his youngest preening his (baby bird) guest's wings, rushing back to his own chambers he could just hear chat cawing ( baby bird, dadza, dadza, protect, keep, baby bird) he couldn't keep the massive grin off of his face as it all came together. Of course you didn't wear heavy clothing you had been hiding your wings it would mangle your feathers if you wore heavier clothing over them, the iron armour was rejected because you couldn't wear it full stop even with your wings out your bones wouldn't be able to take the weight since they were partly hollow, oh he had a little bird to teach flying and how to properly preen. His emotional high crashed though as he realised that you ran your farm alone, were you alone when your wings came through, its was the worst pain on could feel wings slowly ripping their way out of your back plus you could easily bleed out or get an infection if the open wounds weren't taken care of properly, oh you poor dear no wonder you were so attached to Tommy he was the only flock member you had. No longer though he would look after you he knew his sons had grown to care for you as much as they had Tommy, his more bird like instincts rejoiced at the thought of a fledgling joining his little flock.
Ender-anon
This is quite a bit longer than I thought it would be also first time writing hybrid reader.
sorry i took so long to answer this!! This just rlly intimidated me and anxiety went brrrr- but anyways lemmie get into this ask!!!
YOU FUCKING DESERVE THE RECOGNITION MAN UR STUFF IS SO FUCKING POG
god i rlly love royalty aus, did i ever mention that??? i just lOVE- ANYWAYS
So Wilbur's curiosity about your clothing choice only lead him to believing that what you wore was all you could afford in your previous life. He wasn't exactly wrong. And even with the new clothes you got when you moved into the castle, you refused to wear them. It was rather peculiar. Wouldn't you want to get out of those nasty and worn rags you called clothes? But you were new to the castle. He went with the presumption that the shock from the change was frightening. You must've kept your previous clothes as a safety blanket of sorts. Though after a few nasty looks sent your way over your apparel and your very obvious discomfort about it, he decided to take the executive decision to give you clothes that fit your taste and the taste of the court. Your choice to have oversized clothing confused him, but Tommy's insistence just made him presume you were self conscious of your body. To be fair, he wasn't half wrong but he was.
At the rejection of his gift, his and chat's disappointment were more than evident. Was his twin better or something? Like you accepted his gift, although reluctantly. But you still accepted it. And yet you didn't accept him. Looking back on your fear of the armor, he thought more into it. Yes the skin issues was definitely something to consider, but maybe trauma? No, trauma of armor would be strange, right? Maybe you had a family member who wore armor yet died in front of you despite their armor being worn to protect them. Or some other fear. Yea, the skin issue would be much more reasonable, actually. He'll just bring it up with father, let him know of the possible issues with their new family member.
One of the activities you two did on the daily was straighten out your feathers at the end of the day or when they were bothering you. Though the latter only happened when you two were in private. Nobody could know your secret, after all. It was for your protection and to preserve your freedom. At first, when your wings were coming in, he was absolutely terrified for you. What the fuck was going on? This isn't normal! Oh god oh fuck what is he suppose to do?! With an oversupply of potions thanks to the paranoia of attacks on the family and accidents during training, it was beyond easy to take what he needed for you. If anyone was questioned about it, he could easily say that some trainees took some.
OMG ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME FUCKING CRY WITH THIS PHILZA PART?! BEACUSE I WILL CRY THIS IS SO MF CUTE- I JUST CAN'T I LOVE SO MUCH- I CAN'T ADD ANYTHING TO THAT PERFECT- I COULDN'T RLLY ADD ANYTHING TO WHAT YOU SENT ME AND I APOLOGIZE. I JUST LOVE AAAALLL OF THIS
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sanchoyo · 3 years
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danny phantom episode 4-7 Thoughts: (under a readmore because, these got kinda long!)
-the outfit danny had to buy for dash's party. CLASSIC 2000S i cannot stop laughing. And also showing up to the party and everyone is dressed like the trio is hilarious. and further proof that everyone looks good dressed goth.
-dash has a closet full of cute lil bear plushies?? LOVE that. adorable. also his response to danny trashing his room fighting a ghost was SO valid if somone BROKE MY BED IN HALF ID BE PISSED TOO.
-technus being like 'oh smart, u should be a tutor!' then later being like 'forget tutor, be a teacher!' :) supportive king <3 I also really like his upgraded suit/design. AND SPOCK CAMEO??? HELLO??
-the music in this show is super. its so funky. I looked it up and the guy who does it, guy moon (awesome name) also did music for other cartoons like fairly odd parents, barnyard, chalkzone, billy & mandy, AND some actual movies like FIGHT CLUB??? the whiplash I got from reading that)
-sam being rich explains a lot about her, actually.
-I know the moral of the episode was supposed to be 'dont ditch your friends for popular people/spend a lot of money on clothes that arent You to Fit In'. but tbh. it wouldve been easy for danny to have been like 'well, okay, ill come but only if my friends can!' but I get. that hes 14. so. not a lot to say there.
-BOX GHOST IS BACK!!!!! also, danny sitting up and wearing the dress/wig/makeup. umm thats how I dress everyday LMFAO. unironically me. (hate the jokes that boil down to 'haha funney man in dress' tho. but this is a look)
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-jazz being protective of her brother once again being like NOOO YOU GUYS BETTER NOT STAKE OUT HIS (actually haunted) LOCKER!! shes aware of how people perceive him and she wants to help :( which is also probably why she told dash to invite him to that party even tho she had no interest in going!! she wants to help him out :(
-gotta say im with tucker on the whole 'should danny use his powers to get back at bullies' debate. 100% yes. let him teach kids to fight back. making dash throw his food at paulina out of the blue? no. but when hes actually about to pick on someone? yeah! for self defense? YEAH! if dash and his friends just threw food at him, I think rather than. idk doing sneaky shit with frogs he couldve just threw it back and not pulled punches if they tried to fight. I kNOOWWW its a kids show so they are like 'if u fight back ur just as bad!! violence bad!!' but. theyre HIS POWERS. WHO CARES.
-like my only gripe is that dash really isnt LEARNING ANYTHING WHEN DANNY GETS BACK AT HIM IN THE MOST PETTY INDIRECT WAYS. whatever they had to add a bully psa episode I guess. I hate it and I hate the way cartoons usually handle it because these methods simply Do Not Work. 'aND YouRE USinG YOur poWErs FOR EVill???!' this is Not Evil. even when poindexter takes dannys body, theyre only being 'nice' bc hes stealing soda for them!! bitches deserve what they get (nothing too brutal bc theyre high schoolers but damn, if they pick on danny he doesnt need to be the 'bigger person' he needs to start biting people)
-SAM TRYING TO SMUGGLE FROGS OUT OF THE BIO LAB?? girl in middle school when we had to dissect frogs we could opt out, also, they came to us already dead and preserved...
-sidney's lingo and the fact hes in black and white is sending me. also, danny is a ghost celebrity apparently for being a halfa?? ok. thats interesting to know
-the DENTIST BEING EXCITED ABOUT THE COTTON CANDY FLOOD IS THE FUNNIEST THING SO FAR.
-I LOOOVE the trope of 'wishes gone wrong'. not crazy about the stereotypical genie, or the use of the dreamcatcher looking design. (also, I KNOW theyre scientists but the way theyre handling a cold...are the fentons ANTIVAX)
-the genie. she. whitewished paulina. JKASDFHKJ. (the ghost literally just being hello kitty???? im dying) 'why do i feel that im special and wonderful? because I AM! <3' paulina ilu self worth queen. felt bad for her also getting possessed by (2) boys later who were arguing INSIDE HER. WTF.
-imagine being the guy trapped in his now flying car. he thought danny and tucker were HALUCINATIONS. imagine being trapped in a flying car with two, what you think are imaginary arguing 14 year olds convinced ur gonna die. i WOULD say this dude is gonna need so much therapy, but he seemed totally fine and excited when they landed (I would be happy too if a chicken was on my head. chickens rule) stoner rights
-sam's bat slippers??? iconic. SO cute.
-I think desiree's backstory is so :( do all ghosts have messed up sad backstories?? poindexter's was sad too...cannot imagine box ghost has any kind of fucked up backstory. but what if. his mom got pushed off cliffs by boxes...........a la cruella... anyway her 'no man may lay a hand on me' iconic. ilu
-I know danny has no concept of how much bras cost but my god dont attack tucker with some girls bra. those are so expensive.
-its really. well its not a GOOD THING he went into the portal and got fucked up, but its good danny was the one to do it rather than sam or tucker. because even tho he was being influenced by desiree and kept getting more malicious and it prob wasnt 100% him...he sucked as a ghost like most the people he 'pranked' were innocent ppl just Chillin and he didnt want to help anyone at all. I think danny is the most responsible out of them but also, hes 14 and shouldnt HAVE to feel obligated to fight every ghost. hes a good kid and wants to, but I also feel like he feels like...responsible for the portal turning on?? because his parents did give it up,, but it was an accident and not his fault (if anything, why was the on switch on the inside. why was it that easy. why was there no safety measures. that seems like smth OSHA needs to hear about). like thats my son. hes a good boy. and hes never done anything wrong in his life, ever. if anyone hurts him im killing everyone in this room and then myself. etc.
-danny's curfew is 10PM????? DUDE. when I was 14...shit I couldn't be out that late, I had to be back at like, 8 at the latest, and my parents had to know exactly where and who I was going with, AND i had to call/text them regularly...is this a case of my parents being overbearing, or the fentons sucking??? the only time i could EVER be out that late was if I was at an overnight sleepover or smth...
-the vultures have lil fezes. why do they have fezes...theyre so fuckin funny 'ask him for directions' 'I KNOW WHERE IM GOING' these ghost vultures are my new grandpas. pick them up, put them in the adopt box.
-'I wonder why those guys were trying to waste dad!' THEYRE GHOSTS. YOUR DAD HUNTS GHOSTS. why is that not a conclusion you'd immediately jump to??
-*jazz voice, clearly disgusted* WISCONSIN???
-mrs fenton with the lab coat and leg warmers and PERM. YESSS STYLISH.
-was going to say 'ew billionaire' @vlad but. super valid he used his powers to assumedly steal and cheat to get that money, thats how all billionaires do it! but ew hes a SIMP. and spending your billions on FOOTBALL STUFF?? you are Not Valid overall. I DO respect the fact you have a castle instead of a mansion. in wisconsin. if youre going to be stupidly rich might as well go all out, torches on the wall and all. I DO like his ghost form's little kitty ears. catman. and his cape! every design can benefit from a cape. and how different his forms look, like danny looks the EXACT SAME IN BOTH FORMS ASIDE FROM COLOR CHANGES. vlad's is like,, I could believe they were different people!! also I love the drama. but dude you are fighting a 14 year old. lame. also he was like, telling danny he wanted his mom and him and like, wanted him to renounce his dad?? WHAT ABOUT JAZZ?? bitch. those r MY kids and they are both important and special. I do agree they need better parents but thats not u sir <3
-I thought vlad's 'little badger' nickname for danny came from the football mascot of the packers, but google says they have NO MASCOT?? so now I'm like?? is it because his hair is sometimes black and sometimes white?? I hate to give him props but thats a PERFECT NICKNAME. theyre also tiny and vicious!
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-why did I get so excited that Skulker is back!! its been like. 2-3 eps LMAO. AND THE DAIRY KING. ICONIC I LOVE HIM. hes the nicest guy ever :) more nice ghosts please. danny cannot be fighting alone everytime with no ghost buds like every ghost being hostile sucks :(
-mr. fenton knew vlad was controlling him, but a few episodes ago he had no clue danny was doing the same thing...is it something about how malicious the ghost is?? he just seemed to think his memory had gaps the first time, this time he was INSTANTLY LIKE 'GHOST'. then again in this ep when danny did it again he was just slightly confused but not immediately freaking out like he did with vlad possessing him!!
-'my parents will accept ME NO MATTER WHAT' so. so why haven't you come out to them yet, danny?? if you really think that?? if theres no harm, and you're sure??? if vlad is a real problem, wouldnt that make dealing with him easier, to expose him???? SO WHY HAVENT YOU COME OUT YET?? COULD IT BE,, MAYBE YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR PARENTS ACTUALLY WILL ACCEPT YOU??? 🤔 ... 🏳‍🌈 I get why people say He Is Trans. I totally totally get u danny.
-sorta unrelated, but it just occurred to me in one of these eps they go to casper HIGH not casper middle school??? theyre 14?? dont highschools usually do ages 15-18? (I didnt go to hs so I might be wrong, if I am ignore this...) freshmen are usually 14-15, could just be a case of them not turning 15 yet but they will sometime in the school year (I say they because tucker said he was 14 too)? I know the show has 3 seasons, so by the end of it will they be older? thatd be neat but usually cartoon characters stay the same age...I love shows where you can see the characters age and grow up, though...three seasons seems like a long time to spend on like, 1 year...
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supercasey · 3 years
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So I've been playing The Hades Game like fucking mad for the last few weeks, and although I'm not very far in it (at least, I don’t think I am; I’ve only beat Hades once!), I'm absolutely in love with it! Anyways, a certain idea has been kicking around in my head for awhile now, so I thought I'd share it with y'all; feel free to tell me what you think of it! (Warning: spoilers for when you beat Hades the first time!)
Anyways, I've already seen a really cool AU post for if Demeter raised Zagreus on the surface by herself (which you can find HERE; please check it out, the outfit for Zag alone is an amazing concept, and I love the artwork!!!) but I keep thinking about an AU where, after Zagreus dies at birth, Persephone runs away and takes his wrapped up body with her.
On the surface, she reconnects/reunites with her mother Demeter, and with her aid, the two of them manage to resurrect the newborn baby, though now he has more white in his hair than anything else. After that, Persephone sends Hades a letter to tell him that Zagreus is alive and well (because she actually has some fucking class), before proceeding to raise Zagreus on the surface with her mother, far away from the entrance to hell. The Olympians also help her out a bit, but mostly they just help by hiding Zagreus when it’s necessary.
(The rest is under a cut ‘cus this got a bit long, sorry!)
Years pass in relative peace, until Zagreus is about as old as he is in-game (I think he’s around 20-25ish???) and is living well, working with his mom and grandma to take care of their gardens and live peacefully away from mankind; he especially loves tending to the animals and guiding lost mortals to safety. However, one day while foraging for fruit in the deepest corners of his mother’s signature garden, Zagreus happens across a strange man in long robes, who introduces himself as Thanatos.
The two men get along swimmingly from minute one, and after agreeing to meet with each other again soon, they leave and tell their families/friends all about the experience, having no clue who they are to each other. After all, Thanatos was told growing up that his lord’s first wife died giving birth to their first and only child, who was a stillborn, and Zagreus thinks his father died of disease (his mom didn’t have to heart to tell him anything bad about his dad). Needless to say, they’re gonna be in for quite the shock soon.
Cue Hades losing his shit and calling on Thanatos, Megaera, and Achilles to go find his progeny and bring him home; he gives them special permission to leave the Underworld without any resistance, trusting Than to lead the way back to Zagreus. Achilles is less than thrilled to be performing such a morally grey task for his master, but Meg and Than are eager to prove themselves, so he begrudgingly agrees to help, even if it hurts his conscience to do so.
Persephone and Demeter also freak the hell out on their end, scared shitless by the fact that Death incarnate has just met their son/grandson, and they’re worried that he plans on coming back again soon. Demeter suggests sending Zagreus to live with the Olympians until this all blows over, but Persephone disagrees, wanting her son to stay nearby in case he grows ill (it’s implied that she’s a bit overprotective of him, mostly because she’s afraid of him dying again; this also means she refuses to let him know that he’s in any danger, believing it would only make things worse for him in the long-run). Frustrated but understanding her daughter’s pain all too well, Demeter at least convinces her to call on the Olympians for aid, which Persephone agrees to do.
The gods promise to help of course, but... well, they're low-key lying; they wanna see how this plays out first.
After several days of traveling through hell (literally), the “let’s kidnap Zagreus” gang makes it to the surface, and they immediately head to Persephone’s garden. All this time, Zagreus has no idea that he’s being targeted, so he goes about his chores as usual, only to run into Than again, and hey, he brought some more friends for him to meet! Zagreus is friendly with all of them, being raised to be very polite by his guardians, and while he’s busy chatting with Than and Achilles, he doesn’t notice Meg sneaking behind him. Just as Zagreus is rattling on about how the animals have been faring this summer, Meg stabs Zagreus in the back with a blade coated in Hades’s blood, cursing him to belong to the Underworld again.
With Zagreus now unconscious from a sedative that was mixed with the blood, the trio hurry off with him back to the Underworld, but not without Persephone seeing what they’ve done to her son. Horrified, she begins to sob, and winter arrives in the mortal world without so much as a fall season in-between this and the summertime.
When Zagreus comes to, he finds himself in a bedroom similar to the one he has in the game, but it’s much cleaner and has less objects of personal value to him. Hades is standing at the foot of his bed when he wakes up, and very calmly, Hades tells Zagreus that he’s his father, and that from now on, Zagreus will be living in the Underworld with him and his people, where he so obviously belongs. It’s a shame his mother can’t be here, of course, but they just need to wait awhile, that’s all; surely she’ll come to her senses and return home soon, now that her husband and son are here.
Zagreus jumps out of bed and faces his father as soon as he’s done monologuing, ready to tell him off for what he’s done, but to his shock, Hades hugs him as soon as he’s on his feet, and admits that he’s waited for this day for a long, long time. He asks his son to please just accept that this is his home now, and despite still being a bit surprised (and subtly hugging Hades back because Longing), Zagreus tells him straight up that he can’t, that he has to get home, especially with winter coming in a few months!
Dejected but not overly surprised, Hades simply nods in acceptance, but he still warns Zagreus that it’s no use trying to fight it; he’s stuck here, now and forever, so he may as well get comfortable and try getting along with him, because no one’s going anywhere anytime soon. Zagreus is horrified, but he nods nonetheless, unsure of what to say or do just yet.
Later that night, as Zagreus is struggling to sleep in this new, unfamiliar place, Achilles comes to him and apologizes about what’s happened, and although he can’t magically fix everything for him, he tells Zagreus that it actually is supposedly possible to escape; it’s just that no one’s ever done it before. Driven by his desire for freedom and the thought of reuniting with his mother, Zagreus tells Achilles that he’s going to find a way out, no matter the cost. Achilles congratulates him on his tenacity, but warns him that it won’t be easy. Still, he’s willing to help Zagreus as much as he can.
From then on, I imagine the game playing out very differently from the original, with a rather frazzled and scared Zagreus trying to get home to his mom and grandma, but with none of his training from Achilles in this AU, he has to rely on something his mother taught him; his connection with earth and all it’s inhabitants. Or, in his case, his connection with the spirits of animals (a cross of his dad and mom’s powers). That’s right, I’m making The Hades Game into a fucking Pokemon-ripoff, but still with some rouge-like elements mixed in (mostly with Zagreus not keeping his animals after runs).
Having royally fucked up in not stepping in sooner to protect Zagreus, the gods end up helping him out by sending down animals associated with them for the young god to tame for a run (I’ll come up with them later). They usually offer a selection to choose from, and from there Zagreus can build up a team and use it to try and escape the Underworld.
To replace weapons, I like to think he’d have “signature” animals that can help him out for any of his runs, specifically ones from Achilles, Poseidon, Zeus, Demeter (once he reaches the surface at least once), and eventually even Hades gives him one if they bond together enough ((yes, it’s Cerberus... kinda; it’s a puppy version of him, otherwise he’d be OP as fuck)). Zagreus’s signature animals can all be given names, and they keep certain skills that they pick up through enough experience battling in the Underworld for Zagreus.
As for story-line stuff, Zagreus ends up in a very fish out of water situation as he tries to get to know everyone in Hades’s house (he’s still our kindhearted Zag, after all, and he knows most of them aren’t to blame, not even really Than!) while also focusing on his goal to get home to his mom. Hades ends up being a lot nicer to him in this AU, perhaps overly so, as he’s trying to make his son like him more in order to make up for lost time (and fill the hole in his heart that Zag’s initial death as an infant and Persephone leaving with him created). It’s part of the reason he’s even letting Zagreus try to escape; he wants him to learn that it won’t work on his own terms (and maybe also scare the kid so bad that he comes running to him for comfort afterwards).
Also, I should really note that Zagreus is 100% a sweet country farm boy in this AU, and he has no idea what the fuck is going on with pretty much anything in the Underworld, much to everyone’s astonishment. For example:
Meg: Gods, it must be weird getting used to everything down here, huh? Sick of stepping in bat shit yet? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it, and Dusa’s pretty good about cleaning it up to begin with. Zagreus: I mean, I guess? It’s not that different from chicken shit tbh. Meg: What the fuck is a chicken???
After that... yeah, I dunno. I’ll try playing Hades some more, see if I think up anything else that could be interesting, but for now, I hope at least someone ends up liking this dumb AU (if not, I’ll still like it... might even try my hand at drawing for it a bit tbh). Again, please check out the person who’s post/art I linked earlier in the post, ‘cus their art is really awesome and inspired me to include Demeter more in this AU!
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magnusbanewastaken · 3 years
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WHAT TO BUY THE SHADOWHUNTER WHO HAS EVERYTHING (And Who You're FINALLY Officially Dating... And More)
SUMMARY: In compliance with our roleplaying group's winter holidays special activity, following the prompt: “Someone has just become fabulously wealthy and is picking out gifts for their family.”
RATING: G
CHARACTER/S: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Max Lightwood-Bane
TAG/S: rpgroup, writing challenge, romance, winter holidays, christmas
also @ ao3
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Last minute Christmas gift-shopping was always a terrible idea. Either things would be out of stock by that point or nothing much of worth would be left on the shelves. Not to mention the surprising long lines that still exist that late into the holidays. Not to mention having to deal with ill-tempered customers in line with you and the frustrated staff who had to be stuck at work instead of spending the last few days before Christmas preparing for their own celebrations at home. But that's not always the case, not if you were like Magnus who knew exactly where to go.
Everywhere you looked in the Liberty Mall were a festoon of lights, ribbons, tinsels, shiny ornaments, and faux evergreens decked along escalators, archways, and guardrails. A massive Christmas tree that reaches up to almost the third floor of the mall, stood tall at the center of the atrium. This was the place to be in Manhattan for Magnus's quick, at-the-very-last minute shopping spree. All the shops were still open despite it being Christmas Eve already but there weren't a lot of people there compared to other stores and strips around Manhattan around this time in the afternoon. The reason for that most likely had something to do with the stores there being lavishly-priced luxury stores. And that was most unfortunate for him since he liked the attention and stares he'd get for the captivating outfits he usually wore.
Today he had on black leather pants, a studded black belt that looped around his waist twice, and a blood red wool overcoat open over a white wool deep V-neck sweater. A pair of gold thin rimmed sunglasses sat neatly over his coiffed hair and his face was subtly slathered with silver bits of glitter just over his eyelids and out towards the outer corners of his eyes. At least there were still some store managers to dazzle, he thought, perhaps he'd even get discounts as it sometimes often happens to him. Not that he needed any discounts. He had a perfectly wonderful yet complicated relationship with money that never really failed him even at times when he'd end up with nothing but the shirt on his back. He could get himself anything he wanted and anything anyone else wanted. Which is how he ended up going for a last minute shopping spree in the first place.
He didn't have to be there. Personally Magnus wouldn't really bother with shopping "traditionally" for anything. He could just conjure up anything from somewhere and compensate for them later, that is if he remembers to do so, and it was more reliable than online shopping. But now that he was practically sharing his life with Alec, some changes with his lifestyle had to be made. His roguish shopping habits weren't something Alec particularly liked leaving the warlock no choice but to oblige.
He sauntered through the marbled floors of Liberty Mall, going in store after store to pick out presents for tonight's party. It was a gathering at the Institute, mostly a Shadowhunter event despite other Downworlders like him being invited and despite Christmas not exactly traditionally celebrated among the Nephilim. It was an excuse to have a party for the holidays and a way to have their growing families gather together for a night. He wasn't in charge of organising this party, a mistake and a tragedy for them if you'd ask Magnus. He would've done it for free if they asked but the other people who aren't his friends and family that will be there were still predisposed into thinking Magnus would have turned it into a Downworlder rave. At least it was Isabelle helming the celebration, he could count on her to pull off something he would still enjoy despite the restraints of the ever-so-uptight Nephilim traditions.
It was easy enough to think of gifts for the women in his life since fashion was always the answer. He went to every big-named fashion houses at Liberty and was immediately entertained by store attendants, likely believing he might be someone important or famous with the way Magnus always carried himself. And if not that, it was the wads of cash he'd fan and flaunt to their faces, Magnus always wanted to do that. Isabelle was easy to give gifts to since she was always more than willing to try out anything Magnus recommends and her taste and style was to his liking. He simply got her anything he thought would look good on him if he was a woman. Maryse, much like her daughter was somewhat easier to give gifts to. Some jewelry here, designer coats and handbags here and there. They didn't always see eye to eye but ever since his little blueberry, Max, came around, Maryse had softened, even Robert too. She'd often invite him over just to chat, although he was certain she just wanted to spoil little Max. But it did give him the opportunity to get close to her and know her well which also pleased Alec.
Lily was another person he found to be easy to gift to, she'd accept almost anything fancy he gave her, even the not-so-fancy ones he'd sometimes trick her into believing were fancy. Clary on the other hand was slightly more difficult as to this day she still had little to no fashion sense and would deny him the opportunity to enlighten her about the latest fashion trends. Even Maia was easier to bend, provided it came along with a couple of board games and video games. But that won't stop him from trying. He didn't want to force Clary into things that would be uncomfortable for her even if they are trendy. He didn't want to change her, he only wanted to open her eyes to different possibilities than just sticking with something safe and casual. Good thing Jocelyn wasn't as difficult as her daughter. He got her some clothes and jewelry but of course he had to give her the finest brushes and paints as well as coffee table books on art. He was certain Clary would be jealous of them but she'll have to up her fashion game first before he gives her anything she actually wanted.
Men were difficult to give gifts to, he thought. If they weren't anything like him who had a taste for all the pretty and stylish things in the world, he wouldn't be enjoying even thinking about what to give them. Raphael and Ragnor were the exceptions since their gifts were almost exclusively joke gifts and expensive ones at that. But, well, it wasn't possible to do that anymore. He completely rushed through gifts for Jace, Simon, Luke, and Robert and got them simple, not-as-thoughtful as the rest gifts. A set of throwing knives from Japan and a set of Scandinavian hunting knives were for Jace. Simon gets to inherit some of the rare comic books in his possession that were still in mint condition. He threw in a couple of the latest computer games in there just to say he actually bought him something. Luke also gets a set of first editions of books he had owned for centuries; he figured he wouldn't mind that they were used books. But he also got him some new clothes and shoes. Magnus appreciated his alternative, scruffy vibe but he can't wear plaid and worn out boots every single day of the week, that's just preposterous, especially when he has to stand next to a lovely woman such as Jocelyn. And for Robert he got him a pair of watches and a set of fashionable ties, dads liked those kinds of things, right?
He also threw in mugs with designs that he thought would fit for everyone like "Nothing Less Than Seven Inches" for Isabelle. "World's Best Grandma and Grandpa" for Maryse and Robert respectively, "Life Is Short And So Am I" for Clary, "I'm A Vampire Let Me Suck You Off" for Lily, things like that. Nobody likes getting mugs, especially not for Christmas, but he had already prepared expensive gifts for them, surely they wouldn't mind the mugs.
He was empty-handed again after sending away the novelty mugs he got for everyone. His loft must look like Santa's Workshop by now with the amount of gifts he sent back there, he was hoping to get back and do some wrapping before Alec and Max comes home. He looked out the glass panes of the side of the mall to see that the sky was still a bluish gray of daylight, and the horizon was just turning into a faint shade of purple. It's only been a couple of hours but going through all those stores felt like a lengthy ordeal. Next year he wouldn't be so generous, he thought, he'll only do it again in ten years or twenty.
Now all that's left was his own little family. Alec and Max. Max and Alec. My family. He kept repeating the thought in his mind. Even if it's been years since he and Alec were together and well over a year since Max came into their lives, it was still a bit odd for him to think that this was all real if he was being honest, but it was all real. Being with Alec was real. Having Max with them was real. He doesn't really show it but even Magnus was still trying to get used to the idea.
Max was not difficult to think of a gift for, what was difficult was restraining himself from spoiling him; Max was such a cute baby it was really difficult not to do so. If Magnus had it his way he would've spoiled him to death, even Maryse was quite eager to do just that, but Alec wasn't going to have any of that, and he was right on this one. Still, it was Christmas, so he got Max some stuffed toys and a rideable toy car that looked very much like the black Maserati he and Alec rode through France last summer. He hoped for the best that Alec would let this slide becuase Max would look really cute in it, provided he didn't float away with it.
Alec was the last person he would be getting a gift for. Magnus could have made an excuse for himself that this was because he saved the best for last but really Alec was the first person he tried to think of a gift for, the moment he woke up this morning to be exact, and since then he hasn't settled on what to actually give him. Magnus wondered how you could love someone so passionately and even know that someone all too well for quite some time, yet you still find yourself having difficulties with thinking of what to gift said someone.
Magnus took respite in a garden cafe on the first floor of the Liberty Mall. He had one of their special winter lattes that were sweet and minty cool to taste while still thinking of a gift for Alec. He knew he couldn't ask anyone else for their opinions, he learned that lesson the last time he tried to think of a gift for Alec on his eighteenth birthday. He could always ring up Isabelle but he figured she would still be busy with organising things for tonight. Scrolling through articles online on his phone didn't help much either since they found them all too tacky and incredibly heteronormative for his liking. He sighed and put down his phone and took a sip from his latte.
His eyes lingered on the stuffed toys sitting inside the toy car he recently bought for Max just sitting next to his chair. He hadn't sent it away to his loft yet since seeing it gave him some sort of comfort. Looking at the car closely made him remember of his time in France with Alec again. That was the time where they finally managed to redo their European trip without having anything to do with demons and cultists. He has been in and out of France far too many times since the Belle Époque but that summer felt like a brand new experience with Alec. Magnus showed him all the places he had fallen in love with in the quaint countrysides of France and Alec showed him how to fall in love with them all over again. He told Alec about how he felt about that and Alec told him how much he looked forward to seeing the world with him. That was a promise that made Magnus believe that what they had was something for the long run, that he would be loving Alec for a long time. And that's when it hit him. He finally figured out what to give Alec.
Magnus's loft never looked so bright and festive unless it was because of his parties. It has been a long time since he last threw one and it was before Max came along. Tonight, his living room was ornamented by the dreamy and warm hues of gold, beige, cream, and white. The usual colours of reds, greens, yellows, and blues were much too gaudy for Magnus's vision of Christmas that year. The only greens in sight were the garlands lined all over the place and the tree sitting at the center of the room, swathed with gold and silver tinsels and ornaments as well as strings of fairy lights. Sitting by the floor and standing about as high as half of the tree were the presents he had bought earlier in the day. Magnus had already changed into the suit he would be wearing tonight. Alec had warned him that he might get looks from people since he would be wearing white when it's not a funeral. Not that Alec really minded but thought he should let him know anyway. Magnus thought that would be ridiculous, he'd be wearing chanterelle beige not white and he would very much like to get looks from people. And that was that, no one could tell Magnus how to dress anyway.
He was surrounded by lights and sparks of blue as he did his magic, as he was still in the middle of boxing and wrapping the last batch of presents when he heard the door swing open. Without pause, he looked over the side of the tree and looking past the mountain of presents to find Alec with an astonished expression on his face. He was also already in his outfit for tonight which was something he asked Magnus to pick for him. He wore dark brown dress pants and brown overcoat over a cozy beige turtleneck sweater that let him look somewhat formal without sacrificing comfort. He would have just worn something semi-formal but knowing Magnus, he wouldn't have let him look too simple next to him. Alec was carrying a little blueberry of a baby in his right arm, wearing a little black and white onesie suit. The little blue warlock was looking far more cheery than Alec at the sight of the presents. Or perhaps he just had a nice mix of milk in his bottle that day, Magnus couldn't quite tell with Max sometimes.
"Did you just rob the North Pole?" asked Alec.
"Of course not! And even if I did, I'd say it's fair game, that jolly old bastard owes me," Magnus just finished tying the final bow on the last gift in the pile when he walked over to where Alex and Max was.
"...Santa Claus is real?"
"Absolutely, and he's a warlock too. I thought that was common knowledge," said Magnus then planted a kiss on Max's temple.
Alec was not always sure whether Magnus was making things up especially when it comes to warlock things and his warlock friends but that wasn't what's important right now.
"You paid for all this, right?"
"I did and here are the receipts to prove it," with a quick snap of a finger there appeared a clipboard of receipts popping up from a blue swirl of light, floating right in front of Alec's line of sight.
Magnus spoke almost too proudly about legally acquiring his gifts. Alec had been persistent in guilting him with the things he'd conjure from somewhere without paying after all. Magnus picked up Max from Alec's grasp before Alec started flipping through the receipts. Then suddenly a gasp was heard.
"By the Angel, Magnus! Twenty thousand dollars just for clothes?" Alec asked, having a more audible and greater shock than the one he had when he came in earlier causing Max to look up at Magnus as if he could understand and was looking at him for answers.
"They were Dior," Magnus simply explained.
"Seventeen thousand dollars for a watch?" Alec continued flipping.
"Two watches actually, believe me that's already cheap, I hope your father doesn't mind."
"How could you even afford all this?" He asked as he still continued flipping but should really be stopping at this point.
"The painting I sold off the other day remember? It was worth millions apparently,"
"Millions?" Alec looked at Magnus with an even greater expression of disbelief than when he started flipping through the receipts.
"This is why I don't want to talk money with you, you look like you're about to faint," Magnus spoke calmly as he held Alec's face in his free hand hoping it would calm Alec down as well.
"Remind me not to ask next time," Alec nodded then sighed. Magnus looked at him, a bit of worry evident on his face but Alec gave him a reassuring smile, "As long as you actually paid for things."
"Yes, dad, I don't do that thing anymore," Magnus quipped with a smile and dipped in for a kiss on Alec's cheek.
"How are we getting all this to the Institute?"
"Darling."
"Right, magic. Almost forgot. Well, we better go ahead, Izzy will kill me if we're late."
"Wait, I'm sure Izzy won't mind us being fashionably late. I want to give you your present right now," said Magnus then passed Max back to Alec's arms.
"You look serious," Alec noted as he let Max nestle comfortably in his right arm.
"Just nerves. I'm not sure why when I know you wouldn't say no."
"No?"
A whirl of blue light appeared in the palm of Magnus's hand. When the glowing light dissipated, underneath it was a small red velvet box. Magnus could see Alec was already too stunned to say anything. He stared at the box in the warlock's hand for a moment and then back at Magnus. His brilliant blue eyes seemed like they were glistening as their eyes met and Magnus felt his heart warm up at the sight of Alec's smile.
Magnus opened the box and cushioned inside were a pair of rings. One had a round ocean blue diamond set in an intricate basket of flame filigrees, setting on top of a half-braided white gold band. The other ring was a bit bigger in size with an emerald cut blue diamond framed with blue melee diamonds.
"You paid for this too, right?" Alec finally spoke, Magnus almost laughed.
"Darling."
"Sorry, nerves."
"It's my promise to you, my love," said Magnus. "I still stand by what I said the last time we spoke about it, that I won't have you marry me until you, until we, can marry in gold. You deserve nothing less and I can't have you settle for less just because you chose to be with me. I want these rings to be a promise and a reminder for us everyday when we might glance upon it that this is all real. Just as real as any other Shadowhunter unions. That the kind of love we have is not worth anything lesser just because it's a little bit different than what Nephilim traditions dictate.
"So, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, if I may ask,” Magnus got down on one knee and looked up at the two loves of his life, first to Max and then to Alec, "Will you promise to stand by me until we can marry in gold?"
"Absolutely. Yes. It's a promise," Alec was holding back tears as he said that. Max might have felt it too since he started blubbering things and patting his little hands on Alec's face as if to comfort him.
Magnus picked out the ring with the round cut blue diamond then reached out for Alec's left hand. He slipped the white gold band in his ring finger then looked up into Alec's beautiful blue eyes with his heart full of love. Alec took out the other ring from the box with his free hand as Magnus raised his left hand in front of him. The ring sat perfectly around Magnus's left ring finger and suddenly it was the most priceless ring he had, putting all the other rings he wore to shame. They both leaned in for a kiss, it was sweet and tender and Magnus felt the warmth of Alec's love between his lips. But Max had other plans when he decided to break it off and hit Magnus on the side of his head.
"Alright you little smurf, we're going, we're going," he smiled as he ruffled the head of the little blue warlock.
"Oh, right, Alec," Magnus raised his hand and behind the blue glow of smoke surrounding his hand, he conjured up what looked to be like car keys. He handed it to Alec and he immediately recognized the logo etched on its body.
"Did you rent this just for tonight? Can't we just Portal through?"
"You know I don't trust Portal-ing with the baby," Magnus replied. "And no, it's not rented, it's yours."
"No way. Magnus, I can't—" but Magnus cut him off with a kiss.
"Darling, no more arguments before a party," said Magnus as he pulled away from Alec. He then took Max from him and carried him in his arms. "I don't want us to look stressed when we waltz in there. We have the image of a perfectly perfect family to rub in people's faces."
Alec was still a bit dumbfounded about everything that just happened. All those surprises in one night seemed to be too much for the Shadowhunter. But Magnus liked it whenever he leaves Alec dumbfounded.
"Now come along, Alexander, I don't want us to be later than fashionably late," Magnus was already out the door and was being playful with Max who was giggling his little heart out. "My little blueberry must steal the show, yes you will, you're going to be just like your papa when you've grown."
Alec eventually broke out from his daze. He followed them out and went on their way to the Institute.
The party had already started by the time they rolled in the Institute grounds in the sleek black Maserati GT Convertible Magnus had just given him. Though the streets were lined with snow, luckily it wasn't snowing that evening so they were able to ride the car with the top down. Alec might have wanted to argue with Magnus about it earlier but driving it now let him warm up to the idea of owning it. Max seemed to have enjoyed the ride as well as he sat on Magnus's lap in the back of the car. Everything seemed to be going smoothly on its own that Isabelle had the time to come out and meet with them. Simon was with her of course and Jace and Clary followed too when they heard that Magnus, Alex, and Max were on their way. But it was really just an excuse for them to be able to leave the party even for a moment. Parties really weren't the same without Magnus in it.
Clary immediately walked over to Magnus who was carrying Max in one arm. Max was still bouncy and lively as he wrapped his hands around Clary's finger and patting his other hand on her head. Jace was in awe of the car that his parabatai drove and recognized it was the same one Alec kept talking about when they got back from their European redo trip last summer. Jace nearly flipped when Alec told him it was his Christmas gift and even Simon who wasn't exactly a car guy was impressed by it. The car conversation was cut when Isabelle broke in to reprimand Alec and Magnus for arriving late but immediately had a change of heart when the two showed off their rings. Isabelle practically leapt in to hug her brother and so did Clary with Magnus. They all said their congratulations but no one could say they were surprised. With the way things are between Magnus and Alec it was just the natural progression of things but it was still something nice to see especially on Christmas Eve.
As Magnus had expected and have willed to happen, there were a lot of eyes on him as he walked inside the Institute with Alec holding his hand and Max nestled in his other arm. No one would dare state for too long but he noticed the side glances and whispers as they walked through. Whether they were bad or good whispers he didn't particularly care, it boosted his ego pretty well either way.
He and Alec approached Maryse and Robert first who were in the middle of a conversation with some of the Blackthorns. Maryse was quick to ask for Max when they got close which Magnus obliged to and passed his little blueberry into his grandma's arms. It was Alec who excused his parents for a moment and brought them aside to show them their engagement rings. Maryse looked like she was getting overwhelmed that Robert had to take Max from her while she hugged Alec tightly. Like the others, they weren't entirely surprised by it but the rings really did make all the difference.
When all was finally said and done, Magnus conjured up the mountain of presents that were sitting back in his living room. The presents were all lined up around the base of the Christmas tree for his friends and family to open up later when the other guests have left. He made sure to conjure up the gifts in the homes of the others who weren't able to make it there that night like Jocelyn and Luke who decided to stay in together. As well as Maia and Lily who had hosted a different kind of party for the werewolf pack and vampire clans.
At the Beth Israel Hospital, Catarina finally had time to take a break from cheering up the kids who were stuck there for Christmas. She sat on her own in the breakroom having a snack and some coffee using a mug that said "Why So Blue?". She was on her phone to check the messages she couldn't read earlier and most of them were typical holiday greetings. The one that stood out and brought a smile to her face was a photo greeting of Magnus and Alec showing their rings and Max floating on his own next to them with the caption, "Happy Holidays from the Lightwood-Banes".
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Text
Why do we like this clown so much?
Change the "we" for "I" and you get an usual tag I use whenever I post my content in Tumblr. And it sounds funny at first but whenever you start diving into that phrase, the deeper it becomes. So, I finally have decided to share my thoughts about this strange but wholesome attraction to this deeply flawed character. It's not something I usually do since I don't know how to write down my feelings properly and also in english so please forgive any typos (I'm from Chile so don't be surprised lol).
So...Why do we like this clown so much?
Why was it that a character precisely designed to scare and to disgust the fuck out of us ended up unchaining a series of feelings that shouldn't have taken place in a beginning?
Let's take a look at the background: Joaquin Phoenix was cast as Arthur Fleck/Joker in 2018. The first image of him as the aforementioned character revealed a deeply disturbed man. We knew the plot. A man driven to insanity after a brutal history of abuse, creating concern in people if the upcoming film would inspire real life violence. Incel violence and mass shootings, more specifically.
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(the image in question)
As 2019 arrives, the two trailers generated so much hype that media needed to fuel its concern about it. Since it wasn't your typical comic book film, media basically bombed our minds making us believe this film was going to be a total disaster, an excuse to cause harm to others among other nonsense, as if the film would justify everything Arthur would do in the film, eventually. As the release date is closer, the film receives thunderous applause and unanimous praise from critics. At this, fans rejoiced and expressed impatience to watch the film.
October 5th.
People left the theaters amazed, shocked and genuinely moved by the inhuman treatment Arthur received in the film. The fear media tried so desperately to infuse in us with all the incel bullshit and such turned out to awake one of the most positive, best feelings in humans:
E M P A T H Y
The word that so gloriously cleared away any dark thoughts or actions not only proves media was wrong but it turned out to ridicule it in way nobody will forget: Hundreds of people advocating for mental illness, calling out to the kindness that could change a person's bad day and questioning how politicians and rich people are indifferent to social problems proved how much as a society we have changed in comparison with the one shown in the film.
However, since we are on Tumblr, I'll get straight to the point and try to explain why the fuck does this clown has us dying out of love and compassion (and lust).
I. Background.
As nurturing as we women are for a biological matter, we see a man deprived of a good job, is on seven different medications, working like a slave to sustain his ill mother, putting aside his own health and well-being to look for her, struggling to make his dream of being a comedian despite everyone stepping on him, underpaid and treated like a freak for a disorder he did not ask to suffer, which makes it impossible to be indifferent to all the horrible ordeal that eventually will reach the limit of what he can tolerate without going insane. It is impossible to not say or think, at least, that someone (even if it's just one person) should stand for him just as it is impossible not to feel the need to throw ourselves at him to shield him from people who hurt him or simply offer him our shoulder whenever he has had a bad day, specially when he learns he was sexually assaulted by his step father.
This horrid behaviour terrifies newer generations because they get a taste of what being a social outcast was like more than thirty years ago in comparison with today, where there's more acceptance and treatment for mentally ill people like Arthur. We see in him someone who could have been saved with a proper education and emotional support instead of descending into madness as a criminal. Others simply saw themselves being treated like him at some point in their lives and couldn't help but put themselves in his shoes.
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II. Personality.
TRUTH BE TOLD:
There's something called "attraction by proximity". It is the explanation to the eventual love you feel whenever someone doesn't catch your eye at first terms of physical attraction but his/her personality does attract you. This happens to be the base of this situation. His shyness, introverted nature, tenderness and innocent desire to make people laugh and put on a happy face awake some kind of tenderness we cannot resist. This combined with the gloomy background increases our understanding (but not justifying) of the bad decisions he'll eventually take during the course of the film. This traces a line of harsh, almost hurtful contrast of the violence he shows later on the film. Once again, it is not justified in any way but it is certainly understandable.
III. Appearance.
Arthur Fleck is unconventionally attractive.
This happens to be a plus for most women. He is out of the male beauty standards (no abs, not too muscly or particularly tall), which makes him even more unique. It is precisely the fact that he's not a model one of the reasons women love him. He could easily be your man next door or your colleague or the guy you always see but never dare to talk for fear to bother him Because it's about proximity. Arthur looks like your common neighbour. He's not meant to be your typical desirable male protagonist at all.
... And yet.
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Jesus Christ, he's so fucking hot I can't even---
It's not about how beautiful his green eyes are, his long slender fingers, his hair or his smile only. It's the charm behind it.
Another "magnet point" is the way he dresses. I know he's impoverished and his wardrobe tend to be repetitive but it is so unpretentious, so simple that is hard to not fall for. The modesty of the shirts, ironed trousers reminds us of a mature man deeply withdrawn into himself, love starved and longing to be seen and loved by others, like a war veteran who still fights the most important war: with himself. Is someone who needs to be listened and understood.
AND OF COURSE WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE ABOUT IT?
He's also brought back the old gentleman outfit, white shirts, red/yellow vest, red suit and elegant dancing moves and the retro style of the film boosts this attractiveness.
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People keep comparing him with the previous interpretation of Joker (Leto's) whose costume appealed to young women with a tattooed, gangster, mumble rapper crazy-guy wannabe which didn't connect with the audiences (young people in general). This supposedly was to match or even have a sexy, tormented and desirable villain like Marvel's Loki. We all know how that story ended but it's the link for the next point below.
IV. Transformation
This is a particularly strong point considering how much we loved to watch the process of this weak, powerless, forgotten caterpillar into a beautiful and visible butterfly that will gracefully stir its wings for everyone to see its colours.
When Arthur transitions to the Joker, it's so cathartic to see taking revenge on those who wronged him (even when we're not supposed to root for him) like seeing his shyness fading away into a vivid confidence when dancing half naked in the bathroom, or witnessing him making way to make his name known to people in Murray Franklin's Show:
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Adding to this newly gained confidence, there's another turn on: the way he walks.
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At the beginning, his pace is hunched and limping, displaying his submission to violence, which makes the viewer more satisfied to see his broken yet beautiful soul turning the past pain of his existence into art: he lets music guide his moves as a way to tell the world he's a new man by cutting most of the sick, evil roots that harmed him, that he's invincible, that no one can stop him. Watching this cathartic display of euphoria was the most iconic scene in the film, following his speech at the TV and the inevitable meltdown that caused Murray's death.
Going to further appreciation, even his clown make up is beautiful. Why? Simple. The combination of colours, shapes and the intimidating glare just embellishes even more the character.
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The dark blue triangles in his expressive eyes makes the light green colour to highlight, specially in dark backgrounds, giving the impression he's piercing your soul whenever he stares directly at the camera. Same can be said about the red smile and emerald green hair. They boost an already intimidating look.
The cold and warm colours paint a picture of a man full of intense emotions, mirroring it in a simple yet masterful artistic way.
Another interesting point is the way Joker dresses. Usually we had almost every single live adaption of this character in purple coat, hat, etc. But this particular version is not following any comic, which gives more freedom to creativity and once again, out of the standards of what we could have expected.
Red is a colour related to passion, action, love, strength, motivation and excitement. As for yellow, it indicates freshness, happiness and enlightenment and finally, green. Green is renewal, growth and regeneration. Colours that represent a new stage in his life, a mirthful chapter at last. We finally get to see our battered, always humiliated protagonist (or hero) descending into madness, but finally free from his repressed man who held his soul captive like a bird to fly away, to never come back. An insanity that despite being his downfall, turned out to be his ticket to freedom as he walks to the light in Arkham Asylum dancing at the end.
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Ladies and gentlemen: behold the film nobody asked... But the film we fucking deserved.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk
❤️💚💛
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kpophours · 4 years
Text
One Love || part V
➵ SF9: Youngbin x fem. reader / series, werewolf AU / fluff
➵ warnings: mentions of death and illness, slight mentions of alcohol
➵ word count: 2.8k
previous. | next.
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A loud scream followed by even louder laughter drifted upstairs - and woke you up. You looked around, a bit confused, and wiped the sleep from your eyes, yawning. Ruffling your hair, you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, quickly washing your face, brushing your teeth and combing through your unruly hair. After pulling on your leggings and cozy socks, but still clad in Youngbin’s big shirt, you made your way downstairs where most of the boys were already assembled, talking animatedly with each other while enjoying their breakfast. You silently took in the slightly chaotic scene in front of you, until Dawon spotted you standing in the doorway.
"You're awake!", he smiled from ear to ear and jumped up to greet you, wrapping one arm around your shoulder and ruffling your hair. "Morning!", Taeyang waved at you and smiled as well while Jaeyoon got up from his chair and hugged you. Youngbin sat at one end of the table, a newspaper in one hand and a mug of steaming hot coffee in the other - his hair was still sticking out in every direction, mussed from sleep, but his eyes were bright when he looked at you, the corners of his mouth curling into a small, private smile. You returned it before being pushed onto a chair between Zuho who was scrolling through his Instagram feed, and Chani who just lifted an eyebrow in a silent greeting, probably not completely awake yet.
"Morning.", you finally said, voice still a bit raspy.
"Coffee? Eggs? Toast? Pancakes?", Rowoon asked you when he entered the living room, placing a ridiculously full plate in front of you. You gazed at all the food, gaping.
"Eh... thanks?", you finally answered, sounding a bit in awe. "If it's too much for you, I’ll gladly help you out.", Hwiyoung proposed, quickly stealing a slice of bacon from you plate. "Hey, that's Y/N’s food! You had more than enough already.", Rowoon scolded him, gently whacking him over the head with a kitchen spoon which caused the younger man to whine. You laughed and shook your head. "It’s alright, Rowoon. I don't mind."
"Don't say that.", the handsome man answered, "These boys are like a pack of wolves."
Everyone laughed at that, and you felt a bit left out, not quite getting the joke.
"Eat.", Zuho just grinned, pushing a mug of hot coffee towards you which you gratefully accepted, moaning contently after taking a sip. Youngbin almost choked on his own coffee, leading him to have a coughing fit, when he heard that sound.
"You're alright?", Hwiyoung asked and snorted, gently pounding on Youngbin’s back. "Yeah, perfect, thanks.", the latter one grumbled, slightly red in the face, before hiding behind his newspaper again.
You weren’t the most talkative person in the morning, so you only answered a few questions and silently observed the others. Dawon and Jaeyoon were teasing Taeyang about a girl he (apparently) liked while Roowon was busy running from the kitchen to the living room and back again, preparing even more food - the boys seemed to wolf everything down without hesitation. Zuho was apparently on a mission to like every single cat video on Instagram while Chani looked like he had fallen asleep again, chin propped up on one hand.
You didn’t eat much as you rarely ate breakfast, often running too late to do so and relying on caffeine and an early lunch. After finishing some of the eggs and bacon and drowning your second cup of coffee, you got up from your chair and smiled at everyone. Most fell silent, as if sensing you wanted to say something. Dawon looked at you with big eyes, nibbling on some bacon. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”, you said, sending Jaeyoon a sharp look when he wanted to interrupted you, which quickly made him close his mouth again, “I had a great time with you guys - but I should really go now. I don’t want to overstay my welcome!”
Taeyang immediately began to pout. “But I thought we could maybe watch another movie, because some of us couldn’t join you yesterday.”, he said, voice hopeful. You smiled at him. “Another time, okay? I have to get groceries and clean my flat today.”
“Well, you could come over tonight? Some of our mat- uh, girlfriends are going to be here too, then you could meet them.”, Jaeyoon proposed, a hopeful smile on his face. You just shook your head. “I’d love that, but I can’t tonight. But we’ll definitely do it another time, I promise.”, you replied and, out of the corner of your eye, saw Youngbin’s face light up with a soft smile.
Before anyone could ask about your evening plans, you quickly took your plate and mug and hurried into the kitchen, almost crashing into Rowoon, who was about to carry a pan of even more scrambled eggs and bacon into the dining room. “Ooops.”, he made and quickly dodged you, carefully balancing the frying pan so no egg would be lost. “Oh God, oh no! I’m so sorry, are you okay?”, you said, voice panicked and he just laughed. “Relax, nothing happened. Thank you for cleaning up after you - maybe you could teach some of the others.”, the tall man grumbled and threw his roommates a dark look. You just giggled at his cute expression and put your plate and mug in the sink. Afterwards, you quickly went upstairs to change back into your clothes, trying to leave your room as tidy as possible. 
You almost ran into Youngbin who was just coming up the stairs. He smiled at your surprised expression, leaning against the wall of the staircase and looking at you with soft eyes. “Leaving?”, he asked in a hushed voice, and you nodded, heart skipping a beat when you locked eyes with him. He smiled, walking up the last few stairs and now almost towering over you. “So, I’ll pick you up at 7pm tonight?”, he asked, and you nodded again, apparently unable to speak due to his close proximity, his musky, warm scent enveloping you. You finally cleared your throat. “I- I’ll text you my address, okay?”, you suggested, and he grinned, giving you the thumbs up. “Sounds perfect. I’ll see you later, then.” And with that, he let you pass.
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You got some groceries on your way home and cleaned your flat, unpacking the very last of your boxes, time passing way too quickly for your liking. After taking a shower, you were faced with the challenge of having to choose an outfit for tonight. You were guessing that Youngbin was going to take you out to a nice restaurant - but nothing too fancy as that wouldn’t really suit him. Maybe you would also take a walk after dinner, so you shouldn’t pick anything too thin to wear…
After considering your options for a few minutes, you finally settled on a skirt paired with a nice shirt and some thick tights.
You were just finishing putting on some lipstick when you heard your doorbell ring. Your heart skipped a beat and you actually squealed, giggling at your own reaction and shaking your head in slight embarrassment. After grabbing your purse and slipping on your shoes and coat, you took a few, deep breaths, trying to steady yourself. Then, you opened your door.
Youngbin was waiting for you in front of your house, both hands buried in the pockets of his long grey coat, dark hair styled away from his forehead. He turned around to face you when the front door fell shut behind you, beaming at you. You exhaled shakily and walked towards him. When he wrapped both arms around you to hug you, you closed your eyes for a few seconds, answering his soft “Hi” with an even softer one. He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards his black jeep, opening the door for you and helping you inside. When he slipped into the driver’s seat, he gave you another gentle smile. “How was your day?”, he inquired, starting the motor and navigating out of your street. You shrugged, huddling deeper into your coat. “It was fine. I cleaned my flat and unpacked the last boxes, but that was about it. How was yours?”
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You chatted away until you reached the restaurant Youngbin had picked for tonight - a small Italian ristorante which was decorated with fascinating antiques and even featured a masonry oven. Your table was located in the back of the restaurant, hiding you away from the eyes of the other guests. You smiled when you took in the red-white-checkered tablecloth and the candle holder which was actually an old wine bottle. Youngbin looked nervous, gaze sliding from you to the small table and back again. “D-do you like it?”, he finally asked while helping you out of your coat, and you nodded immediately. “I love it! It’s so cute.”, you answered, and he smiled, relieved. He bit his lower lip when he saw your outfit, eyes darkening. “You look beautiful.”, he mumbled, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear and making your heart flutter. You blushed, but couldn’t help but smile at his compliment. “So do you.”, you replied, sliding onto one of the two chairs. 
He truly did look very handsome, clad in a simple white button-down and black skinny jeans. Youngbin chuckled and took the opposite seat, propping his chin up on his hand and observing you with dark eyes.
He could get lost in your eyes. And he wanted nothing more than hold your hand and finally kiss you. The wolf inside him was purring, happy to be so close to you - and finally alone. 
“Youngbin?”, you asked, voice amused, and he blinked in confusion. He’d been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even heard your question. You giggled - the most endearing sound in his ears - and repeated: “Do you want to share a bottle of wine?”, tilting your head to one side. He smiled and nodded, the tips of his ears flushing scarlet in slight embarrassment. “That sounds good, yes.”
You pressed your lips into a tight line to stop yourself from smiling, feeling giddy and just… happy.
Being with Youngbin just felt so natural and… comfortable. It truly felt like you’d been destined to meet each other.
You clinked glasses when the wine arrived, Youngbin’s dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.
After selecting your food - pasta for you, pizza for Youngbin - you began to talk.
And talk.
And talk...
You talked about everything and anything - you told him about your childhood, your family and friends, how you decided on your major and research projects, about your dreams for the future. He in return told you about how he managed to launch his business at such a young age and how much time and energy it had cost him to establish his shop as one of the best ones in the country. He also told you about the love he had for his roommates - more his family, really - and that he had traveled around the world before returning to his hometown in his early twenties. His smile got sad when he talked about his travels - so sad, actually, that you just needed to ask him about what had happened.
“I- I don’t really want to talk about it on our first date as… as it’s actually about an ex-girlfriend.”, Youngbin explained, but you shrugged. “I honestly don’t mind. I think it’s healthy to talk about exes - and that it should be normalized!”, you answered and he gave you a surprised, yet pleased smile. “Okay, if you really want to know… Well, my then girlfriend, Mina - she is- she was… Inseong’s cousin, actually.”, he took in a shaky breath, and you pressed your lips into a tight line, pity washing over you.
Maybe you shouldn’t have asked - you could see how much talking about her still hurt him.
“You don’t have to-”, you began to say, reaching across the table to grab his hand, but Youngbin just shook his head, gently taking your hand. “No, I want to tell you. We were... happy. We loved traveling and each other. But she… she died. She got very ill, very sudden. It… it all happened so quickly.” His expression was sorrowful, and you gently squeezed his hand. The shadows in his eyes seemed to lighten a bit and he gave you a small smile. “Inseong… he kind of blamed me for her death. He said she’d never gotten sick if she hadn’t been traveling with me. That we weren’t careful enough, that… That we shouldn’t have visited a country that had such insufficient healthcare.”
You gnawed on your lower lip, gently shaking your head. “That’s not fair. It was not your fault - after all, it was Mina’s choice to travel with you. You are not to blame, Youngbin. Inseong was probably just so hurt that he had to… lash out at someone. It’s a normal reaction when someone’s grieving”, you said and the man opposite you nodded. “I know it’s not my fault. And Inseong and I have talked about it a lot… Our relationship is slowly getting better again. But… a lot happened. And we won’t be able to forget about this, nor do I think we should.”, he answered softly, absentmindedly lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You inhaled sharply, blushing at the simple, sweet gesture. “Thank you for telling me.”, you finally said, and he tilted his hand to one side, smiling softly. “Thank you for listening.”
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The food was amazing and you even shared some dessert after finishing the main course. You didn’t even notice the restaurant getting emptier and emptier until you were the only people left - only then did you pay and leave as well.
When the door of the restaurant fell shut behind you, Youngbin smiled down at you, dark eyes soft. “How about a little walk? There’s a park nearby.”, he suggested, and you nodded enthusiastically. You didn’t want this night to end - and a bit of fresh air sounded amazing, even though it was still very cold.
The park was pretty much vacant, only one lone dog-walker could be seen beside you and Youngbin. For a few minutes, you just walked in silence beside each other, simply enjoying the other’s company and the cold winter air. You didn’t understand how you were already feeling so… comfortable around Youngbin. Usually, it took you some time to warm up to someone, especially in a romantic way. But you and Youngbin had just instantly clicked - and you even loved all his roommates a lot already. It was like you found a second family and it almost... scared you.
You shouldn’t feel that intensely already, should you?
Yet here you were. 
Youngbin observed you out of the corner of his eye. You had a rather serious expression on your face, gnawing on your lower lip - something seemed to be bothering you. He finally halted in his tracks, grabbing your hand and gently turning you around to face him. You looked up at him, surprise written all over your face. He couldn’t help but smile at your cute reaction. “Are you okay?”, he asked, voice worried and soft. You just nodded, suddenly beginning to shiver in the cold night air, and he immediately wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you close. Gently cradling your cheek, he tilted your head up, gazing into your eyes.
“I really want to kiss you.”, he admitted in a hushed voice, and you broke into a beautiful smile. “Well, what’s keeping you from it, then?”, you replied in a teasing voice, making him smile as well. Then - finally - he lowered his head towards yours, fitting his lips against yours. You instantly sighed, sagging against him and wrapping both arms around his neck while he pulled you even closer against his body. He gently bit down on your lower lip, sliding his tongue into your mouth when you gasped at the slight pain. Your hands tangled in his hair, slightly tugging at it, and he almost growled. When you broke apart again, you were both breathing heavily. Youngbin smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat.
He was so beautiful, it almost hurt.
He gently nuzzled your nose, and you giggled. “This is definitely the best first date ever.”, Youngbin murmured against your lips before kissing you again.
You just smiled, getting lost in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.
Yes, it was indeed the best first date ever - and, if you weren’t mistaken, it was only the first of many many more. This was just the beginning.
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matildainmotion · 3 years
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Extreme Times, Transitions and Your Extreme Powers for 2021
This time last year I wrote a piece entitled ‘An Encouraging Blog about Despair’ – this was in early January, before the pandemic. My son loves that moment in a story when someone says, “Well, at least things can’t get any worse,” and then, right on cue, a whole lot of worse-ness happens. This year I am not going to attempt to be encouraging – I think we need something else, to match the gravity and uncertainty of the times, that recognises all the worse-ness that has happened. But what? Right now I am not sure. Let me see if I can write my way to find it.
The thing that has saved my sanity through the year has been the working on and writing of a novel. It has kept me sane but also driven me mad, but at least it has been my madness, of my own making as opposed to the world’s. It has been astonishingly difficult. Often, I have felt more articulate about the toughness of the process, than about the story I am trying to tell. The images I have used to describe it have included marathon running, mountaineering, white-water rafting and tightrope walking. I am struck by the extremity of these metaphors. I have done none of these things in real life, and yet I have had a visceral sense of their accuracy. Most of my writing has taken place where I am now, crouched on the children’s bedroom floor. I do not look like I am engaged in anything wild or dangerous, but I like the idea that both my making and my mothering – activities that are often seen as domestic, docile – are in fact extreme sports. 
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Photo credit: Viola Depcik, as part of the online exhibition: Portraits in Motherhood and Making during lockdown.
For now, I have come off the mountain of the book. Come January I will set about editing it – an attempt to turn the manuscript into something someone might actually want to read. This morning, I am in a moment of transition. What to write in the dark bedroom, before the children wake? Christmas wish lists and new year’s resolutions are the traditional seasonal texts, but I notice I have two counter impulses to these – two very different lists I want to write. 
The first is not a wish list, but a list of the unwished-for. A backwards-looking list of some of the worse-ness of the year, not as a plea for sympathy, empathy, not out of a need to confess, or because I am looking for advice, but because it feels important to name it. In these last months, on those precious trips out of the house, I have had many two-metres-apart exchanges of the “How are you doing?” kind. “Okay. We’re surviving,” I reply, and then come away, with my groceries in hand, my mask hanging round my neck, feeling desolate, surprised that I should feel it so deeply, when I was not expecting any more from the exchange. I think it is because I want to lay bare the utter ugliness of the year, like when you pull the fridge out and expose the amazing accumulation of dirt underneath. I know that we have been lucky, so when I list some of our un-wished for times, I do it in full recognition that others have had it worse, much worse. 
Here is a selection of my unwished-for list:
Easter – everyone in the house either shouting or crying or both. Still ill. My husband and son red in the face. My mother and daughter, white. 
Then the times – more than one -when my son, who is on the autistic spectrum, needed a play fight, to channel the aggression he displays when he feels threatened (and a threat may be as slight as a joke he did not understand, a small change of plan). I offer to fight him, and as I face him, hold his wrists, the energy in his body, but also in mine, is far from playful. 
A recent one - a double meltdown – my daughter screaming whilst we are Xmas shopping because she and I cannot remember something I said three days ago about her and a bauble she was hanging on the tree. Meanwhile it is raining. She is refusing to wear a coat. She runs away from me, up the pavement, beside a busy road, whilst my son, who cannot bear loud noise, lays down on the concrete and puts his hands over his ears. I am caught between the two of them – one on the run, the other on the ground. Masked people watching me, the rain coming down, the dark coming on. 
Three in the morning and no one is screaming or sobbing but me – the children are sleeping peacefully, and I am not. 
There is an edge to this – it is allowed to be hard, but it feels dangerous to expose the difficult details. It has not all been like this, but I do not want to sweep these times aside and hurry on. So I set them down, one by one, on the page. Then I can begin list number two. 
This is a list not of changes I resolve to make in the new year, but ones that came on their own, and are ongoing, unresolved. A list of the transitions already underway. Because these arrive unbidden, this is a list of the moments when I understood that change is happening:
When I find I cannot read the instructions on the side of the ‘stuffing mix’ and I realise I need reading glasses. 
When my period is two weeks late one month, and two weeks early the next. The skin on my eyelids grows dry. I read this too can be a symptom of the perimenopause.
When my daughter is at last weening (shhhh, don’t tell her, or she will object) and her favourite game is to play at being a ‘dumb baby’ who cannot remember where its mummy’s boobies are. She runs about the room, looking behind bookshelves and under covers, until eventually the baby realises that the boobies and the milk are on its mother’s chest. She does not want the milk now, she wants to play at being the silly baby, because she is turning into such a competent ‘medium big girl’ (her current definition of her size).
When my mother (granny) no longer wants to cook meals for us, but would rather that I cook for her. 
When my son starts to grow a greater awareness of his separateness to me and I find him in tears one night because earlier in the day he heard The Beatles song “She’s Leaving Home” and grew afraid that this might happen to him – that he would leave one day, leaving only a note behind.
When my husband and I realise we are going to need to move again, find somewhere we both want to be, to settle, where we can grow older.
When the children wait for snow, go out keen to find the ice on top of puddles to crack and splinter, but the winter stays mild, wet. 
And then there is the ‘transition period’ the whole of the UK is supposed to be undergoing, moving out of the EU, whether we like it or not. Lorries, stationary, but in long lines of transit, waiting to cross the border. And then there are the transitions- endless- from one tier to another to try to control the virus. 
I think of others’ transitions too, of friends, and friends of friends: people waiting for a baby to be born; waiting for a loved one to recover, or die; transitions of age, gender, status. 
What to do in response to these unchosen changes? I almost admire my daughter’s wish to fight them. Her maxim is not ‘to keep calm and carry on,’ but rather to keep screaming, whilst being carried. I am impressed by the volume of rage in her four-year-old frame as she attempts to stop things:
“You have to stop the car now,” she cries from the back seat, when we are in the middle of the road, “Right now. You have to do it. You have to, you have to, you have to…Mummy stop! Now! You have to stop!” It is a work-out of the will that can go on for hours and which leaves us both exhausted. It is extreme, and it makes me think back to the extreme metaphors for which I found myself reaching in trying to describe my writing process with the novel. 
I counsel her in acceptance, but I recognise my own desire to scream against the times, to stop the world. Perhaps I need to flip things round - to harness the power of the scream, even as I accept the ways things are. Often I think of acceptance as passive, equanimity as cool and quiet. But I am not sure balance, as figured in this way, is the right metaphor for our times. The feat of balancing required now is that done by the tightrope walker, cliff face climber, white-water rafter – an athletic equanimity, a muscular form of acceptance that takes all our might, all our will. 
Maybe it is time to reclaim the male image of the superhero. I like the way in the film of The Incredibles, the superheroic is recognised as a form of divergence from the norm, a daring difference, how the super ability can become a disability if the surrounding culture judges it as such. The image helps me to see my differences as potential superpowers. 
A third and final list then comes to mind, a forwards-looking one, that might support me through the transitions of this time, and on into 2021 – a list of my extreme powers. If it comes to needing to grow food, hunt, light fires – wilderness survival skills – I will be useless, but I can do the following:
I can survive on little sleep. 
I can hold onto the thread of a creative project or conversation through multiple interupptions and across many days.
I can imagine disaster, very fast, in almost any situation.
I can mother two intense children, both often awake till midnight.
I can name the elephant in any room. 
I can write a novel in the hour per day when my children are watching TV (this is a slight exaggeration - when school was happening I had a little more time, but on a list like this you are allowed to exaggerate). 
That’s it for now. I do not think we need to know or understand how our superpowers, our athletic abilities, can be put to good use. I do not think it is our job to calculate this, but rather only to keep in training. Ready. Skills honed. And also to notice, name and honour one another’s skills. I think I should write a list of my children’s superpowers too. As I write this, the children have woken and my husband is now showing my daughter the trailer for the latest Wonder Woman movie. My daughter likes her outfits, especially the golden bracelets. A glittering dress sense will be on my daughter’s list of wondrous powers. 
The other day my husband shared with me a quote, from a Hopi leader in the year 2000, which seems relevant to my three lists as 2021 begins:
“There is a river flowing now very fast.  It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.  They will try to hold on to the shore…..The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above water.  And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate.”
Writing a novel has felt like white water rafting, but actually being alive right now feels like that too. This year I offer, not encouragement amidst despair, but something more extreme - a call to arms, to your arms, my arms, arms that can carry children, stir soups, make stories - superhero arms strong enough, not to grip, but to let go of the shore. Mid river as we are, I want to celebrate each other’s extreme, extraordinary abilities. So, tell me your lists: the list of things you did not wish for, the list of changes underway, unresolved, and then the list of the superpowers you are hiding, honing, as we are swept along. What powers, however ordinary, bizarre, or seemingly superfluous, do you have to offer?
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urbanstreetwear1 · 3 years
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Hat Caps: From Functional Outside Apparel to Urban, Street-Fashion Accent
You see, I could write this information because I personally observed the change of this business first hand growing up. When I was 6 years of age my parents passed me a skateboard for my birthday and I never put it down. I hope I still had that skateboard; a red Problem on Elm Road skateboard with banana orange wheels. It absolutely was very ill at the time. I easily started studying every skateboard magazine out there. I think I had a 10 year membership to Thrasher. I will almost recall every skateboard magazine cover dating back to about 1986 and I have viewed the culture and design modify and evolve significantly over the years. Very nearly 25 decades later that same market which was after frowned upon is currently thriving. During those times, skateboarding was just not "accepted" and many people wherever not so pleasant towards skaters themselves; if you'd a skateboard you the place where a hoodlum simple and simple. It wasn't recognized by anyone or any tradition at the time. When persons found you carrying a skateboard they got afraid considering you were going to take their purse. Now skateboarding is in the Olympics!
In 1986 I acquired my first style of the skater model and which was the start of the road wear market for me. I observed manufacturers like Vision, Airwalk and Powell Peralta pave just how for urban brands today. Several metropolitan apparel inspirations nowadays stem from what the god fathers of block use created so several years ago. Without them the wouldn't be what it's today.
Type is a thing that improvements and then returns around. It is really a way for people expressing themselves and display their true shades to the world. There are numerous different types of outfits that guys are carrying nowadays. One of the several types of fashions that are getting about, hiphop apparel and downtown street use have strike the areas and become rather popular. A number of the major forms of clothing that is one of them fashion wear is going to be described at length, so you may understand what type of style innovation is using place.
A warm development in fashion among teenagers that's been scattering lately like wildfire about the nation is named downtown Urban Street Wear . If you are an adolescent buying a way to appear cool in front of your pals and the ladies, you then have to keep along with what one other kids are wearing on the streets.
There are numerous several types of trendy block apparel utilized in the major cities, nevertheless the clothing that's frequent in the majority of the downtown roads would be the loose jeans which resemble the parachute trousers I wore in the early 1980's that smoke out, which are almost always topped off with sneakers. When it comes to street clothing for men a lot of them wear darker colors, while the women wear light shades such as green and gentle blue. Most of us believe the very first conventional metropolitan clothing trends originated in southern Colorado, but they really begun in the internal cities of New York.
Urban road wear then developed since it branched out of the East Shore in to the West Shore, which designed that apparel had a far more hip hop turn to it in the internal cities, but also produced a far more surfer inspired search as it branched out in to the beach areas. In Japan but, many kiddies and young adults you can find really to the Anime animation characters and you will see many street wear attire with picture of those Anime heroes on them. This form of gown and clothing is one that's here to stay for a lengthy time. The reasons why downtown road apparel has lasted way too long is because of its affordability, trendy search, performance and their capability to evolve to fit into very nearly any type of metropolitan atmosphere and any culture.
Road wear clothing arrived to existence throughout the 1980s. This type of clothing provides a vintage search and is touched by the hipster and the sneaker culture. That apparel also supplies the section of a vintage design sneaker. But do make certain that you don't get mixed up with those loose, huge, super measurement clothing. This clothing is typically an assortment of informal clothes such as for instance T-shirts, trousers, sneakers, baseball hats etc.
The clothing was initially followed in Japan and was regarded being an urban fashion during the 1980s. The Japanese viewed, discovered and needed the road use to an completely various level. Several places followed suit and several organizations have also endorsed their very own brand for this kind of clothing.
Let us examine some of the street wear clothing tips. The standard block use is generally a set of orange jeans and a white coloured t-shirt. But these days, you run into a number of other various types of this type of clothing. In various nations, you can find different variations of those outfits. Like for instance, just in case you are situated in Los Angeles, the clothing often picked during warm weather is parkas or padded coats. The decision for men's apparel could be confined but in regards to women's apparel they have a variety of types to select from such as for example shorts, gowns, slacks, dresses and so on, all of which come underneath the sounding block use clothing. Just in case you prefer getting into relaxed wear, you can pick from Tracksuits, shorts, blouses, skivvies etc.
Whenever you use this sort of clothing, you receive a way to express yourself. You actually don't need copying every style that you see in a magazine; you are able to in reality add your own clothing style. Your style of apparel can actually reflect your personality. Broadly speaking, you will feel comfortable and relaxed while wearing such clothes. More over, you will sense lively and produce a level of one's own.
It is better advised to buy such garments online. Associated with that you can get lots of offers daily when you buy on line and at once the price of the clothes is going to be relatively less when comparing to garments ordered from regional retail stores. In addition, you have the option to refuse and trade in the event the ensemble does unfit you.
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athenagc94 · 4 years
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Gust and Piper - Beginnings Pt. 5
Whew!  So here’s another part.  I’m returning to the office at my job come Monday, so I won’t be able to post as freely as I did when I was working from home, so I wanted to get as much content as I could out in the open!  Please enjoy.
You can read the first the other parts here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
I’m also posting the story here on AO3!
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Gust shrugged off his suit coat and threw it unceremoniously over his shoulders.  His body ached and he could feel the itch of sunburn beginning across the bridge of his nose.  It had been a long day down at the harbor.  Normally, he never worked on site.  He preferred his life living behind the scenes, away from clients and the more hands on experience of construction.  That was Albert’s scene, they were behind schedule on the harbor project and Albert had come to the decision it was all hands on deck in order to make up for lost time.  As co-owner of the business, that included Gust.
The Harbor Project was big for A&G, but he was beginning to wonder if they’d bitten off more than they could chew.  Gust learned pretty early in the day that he wasn’t built to handle the stress of manual labor.  His limbs felt like jello.  If he was able to get out of bed in the morning, he’d be surprised.  In short, he was stressed.  He needed a drink.
Instead of heading home, he found himself turning towards the Round Table.  Music and laughter could be heard on the other side of the door.  The usual ruckus of a Friday night.  He paused just outside the door.  He needed a drink, but was he willing to sacrifice his peace of mind?  Yes.  He swallowed his pride and pushed through the doors.
He kept his head down as he approached the bar.  One drink, then he’d head straight home.  That was the plan.  He just had to stick to it.  He waved Django over.  The mixologist took one look at him and his disheveled appearance, and got straight to work fixing his usual, apricot juice with two shots of vodka.  Gust licked his lips.  Moisture clung to the surface of the glass as Django slid the glass into his hands.  He downed half the drink in one go, relishing in the refreshing tang of the apricot.
“Rough day buddy?”
Gust almost choked on his drink.  Piper was sitting in the stool next to him, but she looked different.  The Piper he knew was covered in grease and dirt with her hair thrown in a haphazard top knot.  Her hair was down around her shoulders in loose waves.  She even wore a little make up.  Her trademark coveralls were nowhere to be seen this evening.  She’d opted for a delicate silk button up the color of spring leaves and fitted jeans.  His eyes fell to the brooch on her collar.  The brooch he’d given her.  It was her statement piece this evening and it worked.  Light, did it work.
“Piper?” He struggled to swallow.  His throat felt like sandpaper.
She glanced down at her outfit, then back at him.  “Did you seriously not recognize me?”  She looked offended, which was fair, even if that wasn’t his intention.
“It’s not that,” he said defensively, “I’m just surprised, you aren’t in your usual get up.” He took another sip of his drink, but it did nothing for his dry throat.  The brooch paired with the blouse really brought the blue out in her eyes.  “You look so put together.”  He made a face.  That was tactless, even for him.
Piper rolled her eyes and settled back in her seat.  Gust had to stop himself from lingering on the curve of her hips.  Those coveralls hid a lot.  “I now see why Albert handles the client relations.  You suck at complimenting people.”  
Yes.  Yes, he did.  “I handle clients when the need arises,” he said firmly, “I helped you.  You got your workshop addition.  What more do you want from me?”
“Yes and you were just as prickly then as you are now.”  She chuckled and crossed her legs, which only accentuated the curve of his ass.  He tore his eyes away and stared pointedly at his glass, mentally berating himself.  No.   He wasn’t Albert.  He would not oogle, especially Piper, of all people. He had more class than that.  
“So what has you in such a foul mood besides well, ya know, everything.”  She knocked shoulders with him playfully.  “No offense, but you look like you were hit by a DeeDee Transport on your way over here.  You normally look so put together.”  She was using his words against him now, but Gust found himself smiling nonetheless.
“I spent my day transporting bricks and concrete for the Harbor project.”
Piper gasped.  “You,” she stifled a chuckle, “but those lily white hands of yours have never seen a hard day’s work in their life?  How’d you survive?”
Gust snorted into his drink.  Apricot juice dribbled down his chin and onto his rumpled shirt.  That seemed appropriate considering the circumstance. Piper looked so satisfied with herself.  Her shit eating grin was unreal.  “Well, I’m here aren’t I?” he wiped the juice away with the back of his hand.  “I survived.”
“Yeah,” she snorted, “barely.”
“What about you?  Why are you all dressed up?”
“I’ve got a date.”  
Gust swallowed thickly.  A date?  He racked his brain.  In all their recent conversations, she’d never mentioned an interest in anyone.  Not that she’d say anything anyway.  She spent most of her free time with the Civil Corps.  He’d seen her dancing with Remington at Albert’s party.  Maybe they were involved romantically.  He shook his head.  No.  That would have gotten around. The town wasn’t very large.  People talk.
“Yeah?”  His voice was hollow as he finished off the rest of his drink.
Piper hummed in response.  “Yeah, a long standing one.  Sam and I play games on Friday nights.  She likes to call it date night.  Not sure how Phyllis feels about that though.”  Gust immediately relaxed.  Sam.  Sam, who was in a happy relationship with Phyllis.  Sam, her best friend.  Of course, they’d spend their Friday nights together.  That's what friends did.
As if on cue, the doors to the Round Table swung open and Sam came barreling into the dining room.  She was followed by Remington and Arlo, who seemed less enthusiastic, but still pretty happy to be done with their day.  Gust grimaced.  He always left when the Civil Corps brats arrived.  He trained his eyes on the dregs at the bottom of his glass. Sam flung her arms around Piper’s neck which sent her back into him.  He gave no reaction, eyes still on his glass.  
A new wave of exhaustion rolled over him.  He wanted  to crawl into bed and sleep for the next 24 hours.  It was an attractive prospect.  Maybe he would.  Piper had all but forgotten him as she chatted idly with Sam.  He swirled the remnants of his drink and watched the chunks of apricot drift around.  One drink, then straight home.
“Hey.”  He looked up.  Sam was gone and Piper was standing.   “Do you want to play a game with us?”
“A game?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard they’re fun,” she said smugly, “you should try it sometime.  Fun, I mean.”  Gust massaged his temples tiredly.  People kept telling him that.  “Sorry, I think I deserve a few jabs at your expense every now and then.  But I’m serious you should join us, at least for one game.  I think you need to let off some steam.”
“What I need is some sleep.”
“You can do that too, after you play a game with us.” She glanced down at her watch.  “It won’t take that long.  I’m terrible.  I promise.  One game and you’re free to go, so what do you say?”
His mind was racing.  Piper wanted him to stick around.  He searched her eyes.  She had to be doing this out of pity.  He was sitting here and moping over an empty glass.  She just felt sorry for him.  That was the only reason she’d extend an invitation.  Her expression seemed genuine enough, maybe even a little nervous as she waited for his response.
“Fine.”  He stood up and began rolling up the sleeves of his button up.  “I’ll play one game.”
Piper tried and failed to hide the shock on her face.  She nibbled at her lower lip as they walked towards the game room at the back of the restaurant.  Gust’s own heart was racing.  He wasn’t lying when he said he was tired.  Even so, he’d accepted her invitation.  He never had an issue with turning down invitations before.  He couldn’t dwell on his poor life choices for too long before, they reached the game room.
Arlo and Remington had already claimed the coveted shooting game along the far wall.  Gust watched as Arlo shot each of the targets with a marksman’s precision.  He expected nothing less from the captain of the corps.  On the other side of the room, Sam was gathering darts from the board.  A wide smile broke out across the face as the pair entered the room.  He didn’t like the mischievous look she gave him.
“Are you joining us for a game, pretty boy?”
Gust wrinkled his nose at her.  He loathed that nickname, granted he loathed Sam in general.  She was loud, obnoxious, and the way she scarfed down food made him physically ill.  This was why he avoided interactions with her at all costs.  It was easy enough to do.  Gust didn’t gravitate in the same social circles as the Civil Corps, or any social circles really.  Yet, here he was, about to play a game with the very people he tried to avoid.
“I am.” His voice was tight.
“Well then,” her smile turned a little more sinister, “it looks like we’re playing darts this evening.”  She waved the barbs in her hand.  “Are you guys ready to get your asses handed to you?”
Gust scoffed.  Another reason he disliked Sam.  She had far too much pride. When she got competitive it was like looking in a mirror, one he wasn’t ready to look into yet.  Still, he combed his fingers through his hair and tied it back in a low ponytail.  “Are you ready to get yours handed to you?”
Sam’s eyes sparkled, and he was pretty sure the same spark was in his.  “That sounded like a challenge to me?”
Gust smirked.  “Perhaps it was.”
“Loser buys the next round.”
He could feel the electric air between them and the exhaustion in his bones seemed to melt away.  He hadn’t played darts in years, but he was fairly confident in his abilities.  He didn’t intend on folding so easily, not if he had the opportunity to beat Sam at her own game.  “I like apricot juice with vodka.”  
Sam’s expression hardened.  “Then you can buy it for yourself when I win.”
“You’re on.”
Sam was good.  Scary good, but Gust had anticipated this.  Her confidence in her abilities was warranted and if they weren’t in the middle of a competition he might have admitted it.  But they were, so he didn’t.  She’d managed to get full points her first go around, but Gust didn’t let that deter him.  He took a deep breath and rolled the dart between his fingers.
“Sometime today, pretty boy?”
Gust resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  She was one of those opponents.  He wouldn’t let her taunts get to him.  The dart board spun slowly in front of him.  He watched as it made one, two rotations, then threw the dart with a flick of his wrist.  It soared through the air with a certain finesse before planting itself firmly in the board. It only took one before the adrenaline was pumping through his veins.  One after the other, the barbs found their mark.  He smirked.  A perfect score.  He still had it.
“No way.”
“Wow Sam, I think you finally met your match.”
Gust glanced back at the girls with a smugly.  “Your turn.”  
Sam looked positively elated as she hurried over to him and clapped him hard on the back.  “Looks like I found a worthy opponent.  I was beginning to think I was the best.”  He winced and tried to mask his groan of pain with a cough.  Piper arched an eyebrow at him, unconvinced if the amused smile playing on her lips was anything to go by.  Gust huffed and settled against the slot machine, which only made her smile wider.  Damn it.
“I guess we’ll have to see who slips up first.”
↢↢↢↣↣↣
Ten rounds.  Ten rounds of perfect scores.  Gust wasn’t a mathematician by any means, but he felt like this shouldn’t have been possible.  He glanced down at his watch.  Even still, an hour had passed and neither of them had missed a shot.  Over the hour, they’d gained the attention of Remington and Arlo, who now sat with Piper at the prize counter, watching in awe.
“How are you this good,” Arlo asked, “I’ve never seen you in the game room before now.”
“They have dart boards in Atara,” Gust said as he tossed another dart.  It soared through the air, hitting its mark and Sam muffled a groan in the heel of her palm.  Gust smirked and yielded the board back to her.  “Whenever I hit a creative block, I’d throw darts.  It was a thoughtless task that helped clear my mind.”
“You could just say it was something fun to do?” Remington said.
“You’re allowed to have fun.” Piper added with a smile.
“I don’t know if you’ve realized this Pipes,” Sam said as she chucked a dart at the board, “but fun is for humans.”  Gust huffed.  He knew where this was going.  Sam gave him a shit eating grin before tossing another dart at the board.  “And I’m not entirely convinced that Gust is human.”  The boys laughed along with Sam, but he noted how Piper stayed relatively quiet from her perch on the counter.  This surprised Gust.  She loved making jabs at him.
“I’m not a machine,” Gust said once the laughter died down, “I know how to have fun.”  He crossed his arms across his chest and glared evenly at Sam.  “I just find joy in more intricate endeavors.”
“Yeah, okay, you can get off your high horse.  We know you think you’re better than us.”  Her words cut him like a knife.  Sure, he’d received petty jabs from a few people, but no one had called him out so casually before.  Gust frowned, but Sam had already turned her attention  back to the board to toss her last dart.  It landed right on target.  Another perfect score.  Sam groaned and kicked the ground.  “At this rate, I’ll never get a drink.”
“You could always buy your own drink?” Piper offered as she picked at the dirt under her nails.
“Then what’s the point of winning?”
“You could always give up,” Gust couldn’t hide the smug edge to his voice, “and admit you’ve finally met someone who’s better than you.”  He approached the board and gathered the darts as they entered the twelfth round of their game.
“Dream on,” Sam snapped, “I won’t give up that easily.”
Gust sighed.  He’d already stayed out later than he wanted to.  The initial adrenaline had worn off and now he could feel the exhaustion settling back in his bones.  He was ready to turn in, but he doubted Sam would let that happen without a definitive end to their competition.  She was unyielding, but Gust was willing to swallow his pride if it meant he could finally leave.
“Very well.”  He pushed up the sleeves of his button up and turned back to the board.  With the flick of his wrist, he let the dart soar across the room.  It embedded itself in the wall, barely missing its target.  He made sure to aim for one of the crosshairs, so the hole wasn’t too obvious.  “Oh clumsy me,” he deadpanned as he stepped away from the board, “There goes my streak, I guess you win.”
The group looked at him, entirely unconvinced.  Sam stepped forward and glared up at him.  She stood at least a head shorter, but the fierceness in her eyes made Gust sweat.  “That wasn’t a real win.  You lost on purpose.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Gust gave Sam a wide berth as he stepped around her and made his way back into the restaurant.  “I’ll go get those drinks.”  He slid into one of the seats beside him and out of the corner of his eye he saw someone slip into the one beside him.  He didn’t need to look to know who’d followed him.  He only spared Piper a glance before waving Django over.
“A melon mix,” his gaze flicked back to Piper, “and a red tea.”
“You don’t have to buy me a drink.”
“Loser buys a round,” he said tiredly as he slid some gols across the counter.  “I’m not having a drink, so you can have mine.”  He handed her the glass.  “It’s what you were drinking when I came in, right?”  She nodded and took the glass with a mystified expression.  
“Thanks.”  Gust only hummed as he took the other glass and made his way back towards the game room.  “That was pretty impressive.  Your dart skills, I mean.”  Piper took a tentative sip of her drink and hissed contentedly.  “I’ve never seen someone go head to head with Sam like that.  It was admirable.”
He shrugged.  “It wasn’t anything remarkable,” he said, “I still lost.”
Piper made a face at him.  “Did you though?”
His lips curved into a small smile.  “I did.”
Piper snickered into her drink.  “Of course, well better luck next time,” she said.  Gust wanted to tell her that there wouldn’t be a next time, but he wasn’t given the chance.  Sam was on him the moment he walked back into the game room.
“That wasn’t a real win and I won’t accept the outcome,” Sam said hotly, “you threw the game.  I want a rematch.”  Gust blinked down at her and she narrowed her eyes at him.  “Unless you’re scared?”  He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t unnerved by the primal glint in her eyes, but that had nothing to do with his ability to play darts, it was his survival instincts telling him it was time to go.
“I’m not scared and I won’t be playing again,” he said as he handed her the drink.  She didn’t even look at it as she passed it off to Arlo who was now hovering just over her shoulder.  He looked at it warily and he passed it off on Remington.  Gust was only mildly concerned that he looked ready to jump into action.  He didn’t really want to consider what this meant for him.  “I’m tired.  So, I’m going home.”
“Fine then,” Sam crossed her arms, “rematch next week.”
Gust cocked his head at her.  “I beg your pardon?”
“I want a rematch next week.  We always play on Friday nights.  Meet us here and I’ll kick your ass in a new game.  For real this time,” her glare was unwavering as she stared up at him, “I’ll drag you out of your home if I have to.”  He could tell that wasn’t an empty threat.
“I think what Sam is trying to say.” Piper stepped between them and gave Sam a pointed look.  “I think she’s trying to say that she’d like you to join us for another game night.  It was fun.” She turned her attention back to Gust and smiled.  “So please join us again next week.”
He should say no, right?  Though he loosely considered Piper a friend, he had no desire to forge a kinship with the members of the Civil Corps.  He glanced back at the dart board.  It continued to its slow crawl and he found himself mesmerized by it.  He did, however, miss playing darts and he almost enjoyed the company this evening, though he’d never admit it out loud.   “Ask me again on Friday.”  He blinked and Piper mirrored his expression.  He was just as surprised as they were by his response.  “We’ll see if I’m in the mood to deal with you incessant chatter, but I make no promises.”
“O-Okay,” Piper managed through her shock, “I’ll stop by A&G at the end of the day to see how you’re feeling.”  Gust nodded numbly.  “Thank you for playing with us.  I think we all enjoyed it.”  She and Sam shared a look and the blonde huffed and crossed her arms.
“Yeah, whatever, it was fun,” Sam said tight;y, “but I will win next week.”
“We’ll see.”  Gust offered the group a curt nod.  “With that, I think I’ll take my leave.”  
They offered him a ripple of waves and salutes as he spun on his heel and made his way out of the Round Table.  As he made his way home that evening, he found himself smiling.  Perhaps it was the remnants of his drink, or the high after a good game of darts, but for the first time in years, he felt good.  For once, he wasn’t thinking about leaving Portia.  In fact, he was almost looking forward to next Friday.
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sunevial · 4 years
Text
Old, New, Borrowed, Blue
Commissioned by @hewhowalksbehind way too long ago. 
I have commissions open here.
Something old.
From a practical standpoint, there wasn’t much left to worry about. The ceremony was small, just a handful of people from both sides of the family and friends who they couldn’t have kept away if they tried. Music and decorations had been handled by the church, and her family was making sure everything would be ready for the party at the new house. Laughter and chatter floated through the window, signaling that people had started to arrive. Inside was nearly as busy, the occasional shout or bumped furniture as her bridesmaids donned their outfits in the changing room two doors down. She could hear some pacing and muttering outside the room, possibly the priest going over his lines one last time. 
If it wasn’t for the fact she didn’t want to cause a scene, Gale would have requested a spider in a heartbeat. There was a decent chance she still might. A large fuzzy friend to pet and scratch would make all of her problems disappear. It would also create several more problems in the process, as is to be expected when said spider is the size of a large dog, but at least those were familiar problems.
“That much tension in your shoulders will absolutely give you sore muscles in the morning,” Bookkeeper said, brushing a knot slowly and methodically out of Gale’s hair. Clicking her tongue, she deftly parted the strands and wove them into a bun fit for a proper lady. Her aunt looked shorter than normal, perhaps a necessity to better blend in with the ladies of the time, though her face was still plenty youthful. She was dressed in green and gold, a tasteful ensemble with just enough jewelry to show off her apparent wealth. “Not to mention your posture is atrocious.”
“Yes, right, sorry Aunt Nova,” Gale said with a wince, settling her shoulders back and relaxing into her aunt’s swift and precise hands. It certainly wasn’t the flashiest updo possible, but it was functional. More importantly, it could hold a veil. Dear gods, it would be holding a veil in just a manner of…minutes? Hours? What was time anymore? Did it ever exist?
That question may have been slightly rhetorical, given the nature of her family, but that was well beside the point. 
The ghost of a smile appeared on Bookkeeper's face. It was the same expression Gale remembered from when she was small, curled up in her aunt’s lap and listening to her low voice roll around in her ears. Her first teacher, the one who methodically taught her letters and numbers and penmanship. To this day, she still had the best handwriting in town. “Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your soon to be husband for all of the massages you’re going to require.”
“If you’re really that nervous, I can get you some tea to calm your nerves,” her mom said, picking a few loose threads from the veil. To the wider world, she was the Witch, a member of a god’s court, utterly terrifying in her innocence. To her, she had always been just mom. Her dark brown hair showed just a few streaks of gray, though the majority was currently hidden under a sunhat. Though she knew it was all for show, a few creases were pressed around her eyes and cheeks, an attempt at showing her age. In a bit of a wardrobe change, she wore a conservative purple dress instead of her typical magenta. 
“No, I’ll be quite fine,” Gale stammered, swallowing her words down along with the butterflies in her stomach. Her gaze was focused straight ahead, eyes glued to the mirror as the two women worked their proverbial magic. 
Bookkeeper sniffed, biting a hairpin between her teeth as she began securing hair into place. “Lying is unbecoming of a bride, sweet miss.” 
Gale sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to keep a strong face once that nickname was thrown out. “I don’t want the tea, but I’m…well, I feel like I’m looking over the edge of a cliff and my stomach is turning itself over.” 
“Ginger it is,” Witch said, setting the veil to the side and opening the door to the linen closet. Though Gale didn’t dare turn her head, she was fairly certain that her mother wasn’t looking for an extra towel. Hardly a second later, a warm cup of tea was in Gale’s hands. “Not the best brew I’ve made, but it’ll do to settle the nausea.”
Trying to keep her hands from shaking, she drank down the entire cup in what felt like only a few gulps. The soothing and pleasantly spicy mixture slid down her throat, a welcome distraction to…well, everything. Her eyes flickered up towards her mother’s. “Were…were you like this on your wedding day?”
“I don’t think so,” her mom said, giving a warm smile as she took Gale’s hand into her own. “Then again, I married out of duty, because that is what happened to everyone back then. But I’d imagine if I did manage to marry for love, I’d probably be at least a little nervous.” She squeezed their hands together, palms warm and comforting. That pair of hands that cooked hearty meals, that mixed tinctures and remedies when she fell ill, that held her tight during all of the difficult times. An eclectic assortment of aunts and uncles had helped take the load off, but when the sun slipped behind the horizon and it was time for goodnight kisses, it was always just the two of them. 
The Witch and the Witch’s daughter. 
Gale gave a slight nod as her other hand fiddled with a bracelet around her right wrist. Thirteen silver beads were strung together on a thin red thread, each one etched with a different symbol. A gift, her first gift, painstakingly made by the combined efforts of Bookkeeper’s meticulous rune work and her mother’s gentle spellcraft. Worn proudly throughout her youth, the charm bracelet had grown with her, never sitting too tight or too loose on her wrist. It was meant to keep her shielded, to keep her warded, to keep her safe. It was a reminder just how different she was, how much her family had sacrificed for her, how much her mother had given just so she had a chance at life. 
She never took it off. That wasn’t about to stop today.
Something new.
When Vincent asked her about her family, she had given the answer she had given everyone who thought to ask. Her mother was a midwife back in the old country, helping mothers deliver babies and keeping them well. She had married a soldier, though less out of love and more because she had no choice, and he ended up dying on the battlefield not even a few months into their marriage. The men of her village shunned her, and so unable to find a husband who would treat her well, she immigrated and decided to raise her daughter on her own. Aunts and uncles and other members of her extended family helped support the two of them throughout the years, effectively meaning that she had been raised by seven different people. So, yes, it was entirely necessary to invite them all. Leaving anyone out just wouldn’t feel right.
There was also the issue that Priestess might actually kill her for the insult, but that was another matter entirely.
“Alright, dear, turn around, let us get you buttoned up,” Priestess said, tapping her chin twice in thought. This was perhaps the first time Gale had ever seen her look this old, hair nearly entirely gray and face streaked with wrinkles. If anything, it only served to make her look even more intimidating, which was a feat in and of itself. Her gown was in tasteful yellows and greens, perfect for a spring wedding. “I do hope that magazine I found was correct. Fashion styles start to blur around this period, and the last thing I need is for you to be wearing something a decade too early.”
“I think it looks just fine, Aunt Trisha,” Gale said, complying absolutely immediately and turning away from the mirror. As she did, she could feel hands gently gather the fabric at her back and slowly button into place. 
A light knock echoed through the room, followed by a voice Gale was always happy to hear. It was a voice that invited excitement, new opportunities, and typically the best presents if luck was in her favor. Even now, it was enough to raise her spirits at least a bit. “Am I allowed to come in now?”
“Yes, yes, get in here,” Priestess called, smoothing out the collar and sleeves. “Do remind me, are trains typically attached separately by this era in time?”
Not bothering to use the door, not that Gale actually expected him to use something like doorknobs in the first place, Advisor instead dropped in from the ceiling. It was honestly disconcerting to see him with light blond hair, even more so seeing it so short. Presumably not wanting to upstage the bride either, he had swapped his typical white coat and maroon shirt for a respectable tan suit and hat. Even with all of the changes, the very tail of his jacket still blew in a wind that was not there. He gave a quick glance over, the gears obviously turning in his head. “I believe that assumption can be made, otherwise doing without a train seems to be more than acceptable.”
“Excellent, because I would hate for this bit of lace to exist only to be soiled by dirt and mud,” Priestess replied, undoing a number of buttons that Gale wasn’t entirely sure were there a second ago and removing the fabric. “Stay still, dear, the sash is next, and this bow will not tie itself.”
Gale nodded her understanding, holding her arms out in anticipation. The nerves and nausea had left along with the tea, replaced instead with the mild discomfort that was being in the presence of her most terrifying relative. Though she had a feeling she would never get the full story, she knew Priestess was the closest thing she would ever get to a grandmother. In her own way, she was kind, teaching poise and etiquette and gifting the occasional sweet treat. Even so, Gale always made sure to be on her best behavior around the woman. The others would tolerate her antics from time to time; ‘Aunt Trisha’ absolutely would not. “Well, what do you think, Uncle Ara?”
“Well, I suppose no matter what I say will be seen as biased,” he said with a good natured smile, putting his hands into his pockets and leaning against the wall. “But that being said, you look positively radiant, Miss Gale.” Though she wouldn’t dare say it out-loud, she liked Advisor best out of her uncles. Perhaps that was because he always treated her with a fond respectfulness that even now was rarely received. She always got the impression that children especially fascinated him, and so he always brought her exotic gifts and carved out time to talk. Like Bookkeeper, he was more often than not a teacher, lecturing her on all manner of scientific topics, from biology to astronomy to the physics of worlds she could only imagine. 
Gale smiled back, feeling a flush rise into her cheeks. “I do have you both to thank for that, I suppose,” she shyly replied. “Though you really didn’t have to get me a dress for the occasion.”
“Dear, if one of our own is getting married, the least we can do is make sure you make everyone and their mother green with envy over such fine tailoring,” Priestess said with a grin Gale could feel, securing the sash with a final tug. 
“It was our pleasure,” Advisor echoed, giving a small bow. As he did, the wall behind him shifted and warped, wallpaper turning a shining silver. He stepped to the side with an equally dramatic flourish, revealing a full length mirror. “Though I suppose you should see the final results for yourself.”
The underdress was soft, smooth against her skin and shaping her waist into a fashionably slim frame. Overtop was the real artistry; the entire overdress was made of fine lace, each leaf and flower and vine intentionally placed into a gorgeous tapestry. The collar sat high, allowing for more designs at the neck and down her back. Sleeves stopped just past her elbows, which was about as daring as she was willing to go for an already fairly sheer top. A simple white sash was tied around her waist, fixed into a cute bow just at the small of her back. It would have taken hours to make something as detailed as this by hand or machine, and it would not have been cheap either.
The chances they bought this dress were slim, though, knowing their love for fashion and how the dress fit her like a second skin. If she had to guess, Advisor wove the fabric and Priestess sewed the dress. She felt his touch in the way it almost shimmered in the light, the way it kept her at a comfortable temperature, the way it pulled her eyes to just gaze at her own image. She felt her touch in the way it flattered her at every angle, the way the lace seemed to almost be alive, the way it was equal parts modest and incredibly glamorous.  
She would only wear this once. That would be more than enough.
Something borrowed.
Gale had friends; that much was evident by the fact she had enough bridesmaids to match Vincent’s groomsmen. They had been collected over the years, mostly through the people she met while at school or attending church or saw around the neighborhood. Even so, making friends wasn’t something that came easy. Girls her own age were concerned first with learning domestic chores, then impressing boys and fashion, then getting married and having children. In fairness, she was now focused on the last one, but that was a recent development. A lifetime of knowing there was more to the world made those conversations horribly mundane. Combined with all of the secrets she kept close to her heart, be it magic or her family’s true nature or her own dabbles in the arcane arts, she had no choice to keep a bit of distance between herself and friends. No guests over without permission, no in depth conversations about home life, no outward symbols of her true faith. 
Her friends always believed that she was just embarrassed about her living situation, having no father to speak of and living in an immigrant community. If it kept people from prying, she wasn’t going to correct them on their inaccuracies. 
“Now, you sure you’re okay getting hitched?” Huntress asked, planting her hands on Gale’s shoulders and looking her square in the eyes. Her aunt looked decidedly uncomfortable in a dress, the ensemble carefully crafted of a light orange fabric to give the wild woman enough mobility for her tastes. A well crafted illusion made her look approximately as old as Witch, fitting as this woman might as well be her second mother. “If you need to back out, just holler and I’ll start punching people.”
Gale held a hand to her mouth, trying to keep a laugh from bursting out even as the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin. “I’m more than sure, Aunt Diane.”
“There’s the smile I was looking for,” she replied with a smirk of her own. One hand reached for the veil, gently adjusting it so the lace draped over Gale’s shoulders. Though she had seen her aunt almost rip a man in half for daring to make a vulgar gesture her way, her touch was always soft and caring. She was also a strong believer that Gale shouldn’t go defenseless, explaining why Gale was known for her mean right hook if push came to shove. “Shouldn’t get married with a frown on your face. It’s bad luck.”
“So is the groom seeing me before the wedding, but I think he might’ve stolen a glance as I was coming inside.” Her smile widened a touch. Luck was something Gale had never truly believed in; when you have access to small magics, it was typically better to make your own luck.
Huntress chuckled a touch, taking a few flowers and weaving them just under the veil. “Well, then we’re just going to have to make up for that. Can’t have something going wrong on your big day.”
“If we want to avoid that, then she shouldn’t be getting married in a church either, but that’s just me,” Part Timer called from the other side of the room, taking a bit of shoe polish to a pair of Louis heels. In probably the best glamour work Gale had ever seen, her uncle actually looked and smelled like a normal human being. His dark hair was combed back, face streaked with a few lines and eyes able to focus on the world. He wore a simple blue suit, both sides perfectly pressed and without signs of decay, though his coat and hat were currently hanging up on the wall. Seeing him like this was honestly more than a little eerie, a bit like seeing a wax sculpture come to life. “There’s a perfectly good hall down the street, and all you’d need is a judge to sign the papers.”
Huntress sighed, rolling her eyes as she marched over to the much taller man. In one motion, she swiped the already polished shoe from the windowsill. “You’re just cynical, love.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault religion was considered conspiracy theory nonsense by the time I was born,” he said indignantly, though the smile on his face said otherwise. His voice was surprisingly steady, marking one of the few times Gale had ever seen him jitter out every few seconds. He was the most recent addition to her ‘family’, apparently not joining until she was already born. In some ways, that made it a little more difficult for Gale to accept him for who he was, especially considering his face was quite frightening as a little girl. But Huntress trusted him, and she had gotten to watch them both slowly fall for each other as the years passed. So, when he was able to hold a steady form and voice, the two of them would play pretend with her dolls and piece together puzzles. “But seriously, Gale, just remember to say the words at the right time and cry if you need to cry.”
“Please, Uncle Gil, I don’t cry that easily,” she replied, pulling her dress up high enough to reveal stocking feet. “You really don’t need to fuss over me this much.”
“Well too bad, young lady, you’re getting fussed over,” he said without room for debate, setting aside the polishing cloth and holding the remaining shoe up to the light. “There we go, all shined up and ready for their debut.”
“About time, at this rate she’s going to be late for her own damn wedding,” Huntress said with just a mote of frustration, slipping the first shoe onto Gale’s foot. “Get over here and help me tie these laces.”
“But of course, my darling lioness,” he said with a chuckle and just the smallest amount of tease. 
Knowing there was no way she could protest, Gale allowed for the bit of pampering as she got used to how the shoes felt around her feet. While most Louis heels were made of silk or other cloth, these were made of a sturdy leather stained silver. Whether done by magic or a very talented cobbler, they were surprisingly soft. More importantly, they were well broken in and easy to walk in without tripping. They also were not her shoes. Though Huntress might have detested wearing the dresses of this time period, she still wanted to blend in reasonably well when the occasion arose. These were her favorite ‘dinner shoes’, worn on special occasions and kept in absolute pristine quality. Gale had tried to politely turn her down, knowing her aunt would want to wear the one pair of fancy shoes she considered acceptable on such an important day. 
She hadn’t won that argument. 
Something blue.
Every so often, Gale would ask mom about her father. She knew the two of them would never meet, at least not in this life, but she was morbidly curious about the man who had married her mother all of those years ago. From what little she had scraped together, he was in fact a soldier, a Roman one at that. It had been a political marriage to seal some sort of important treaty, given her mother was the daughter of a village elder. He was tall, strong, grim, but treated her well and never laid a hand on her. According to her mother, Gale had his eyes and hair. 
When he died, her mother mourned, knowing there would be few men who would consider marrying a widowed folk healer. Except there had been one, a young man who was known for his carpentry and had been smitten with her for years. If things had gone differently, their wedding would have been joyous, filled with music and laughter and dancing for they truly loved each other.
She never did figure out what happened to that man. From how her mother’s eyes looked to somewhere in the distance when she spoke of him to the way her smile turned wistful whenever Gale asked about him, she hoped he lived a good life. 
“Is there anything else you require, little wind?” Lieutenant asked, glancing around the corner in a gesture that was definitely more for her sake than his own. Even dressed up, he had kept his wardrobe as simple as possible, wearing a black suit with as few embellishments as possible. His long hair was neatly tied back, and Gale was fairly sure this was the first and only time she would ever see him wear a hat. Still, it was odd seeing him without his telltale wings, dark and yet sparking with little stars. She knew they were still there, hidden behind a veil of magic she couldn’t see past, but seeing him look so…human did not feel right. 
Gale shook her head, clutching the flowers in her hands. According to the florist, the sheaf bouquet was all the rage, as the long stems gave a sense of rustic splendor. She cradled a collection of pale yellow ranunculus blossoms, pink and white roses, and tweedia in her arms, doing her best not to squish anything down. “At this point, I really don’t need much more, Uncle Oliver. We’re just waiting for the procession to begin.”
“Yes, your mother told me as much,” he said, furrowing his brow in slight confusion. “First are the men who are accompanying your fiancé, then your mother and his parental figures, then the women accompanying you, your…honored maid…”
“Maid of honor, yes,” Gale said with a smile, listening intently as music began to play. Unlike most of her other family members, Lieutenant made it no secret that he was unsure how to precisely deal with mortals, much less a human child. He would consistently ask her opinion or insight on her actions, his curiosity apparent in every moment the two spent together. Perhaps that is why he felt a need to treat her with the same respect that he gave her mother, asking her for clarifications at times and inquiring into exactly how mortal minds functioned. This also might have been why he trusted in her abilities enough to let her visit other worlds, sometimes on her own if the situation arose. 
Now, whether or not her mother appreciated her visiting other worlds was an entirely different story. Intellectually, Gale understood why dropping a seven year old into spider land was a bad idea. That being said, they were actually quite docile if you treated them with respect.
“Maid of honor, then the boy and girl with the rings and flowers, respectively, and then I am supposed to escort you to the altar,” he continued, stepping to her right and offering his arm. “Though I am still unclear as to why my presence is necessary.”
“The idea is that you’re supposed to ‘give me away’,” she replied, slipping her arm into his. “Normally, it would be my father doing this, but since I don’t have one, I need a close male relative to take his place.”
Around the corner, the doors swung open, and feet began to step into the congregation hall. This time, his voice was quieter, though she wasn’t entirely sure he was using his mouth to form the words. “Then why not choose one another of your other uncles? While I am content enough to partake in the ceremony, it seems more…sensible for someone with a better understanding of human traditions to do such a thing.”
Gale opened her mouth to answer, then paused for what felt like an eternity. In truth, she hadn’t really given a thought as to why Lieutenant would be the one to walk her down the aisle. When the wedding preparations had begun, all she knew is that if she needed someone to uphold the tradition, it absolutely had to be Uncle Oliver. He was correct; either of her two uncles would have been more sensible choices in many respects. Advisor had a much better grasp on how human rituals were conducted, and while Part Timer might not like religious ceremonies, he at least understood the traditions. 
Her eyes traveled to the ribbon tying her bouquet together, a simple silk ribbon dyed pastel blue. She had been ten years old with a bit of pocket change left over from the holiday season in her pocket. On Priestess’s advice, she had dragged Lieutenant out to a summer fair to have some fun. The years had stolen the exact memories of the event, but she knew they had a couple of sweet treats to test how his sense of taste was coming along and stopped to feed a couple of goats. However, she remembered the two of them playing a simple ring toss game, and Lieutenant had failed absolutely miserably at getting even one onto a bottle. Even now, the memory of his baffled face made her giggle. When her turn rolled around, she managed to land each and every one, winning her a ribbon to take home.
She remembered his face, no longer expressionless and cold, but displaying something that just might have been pride. 
“Because, Uncle Oliver-” she replied, straightening her back and putting on a brave smile. “-no one else has come that close to being like a father.”
He gave her a smile in return, gesturing with his free hand. “Then shall we?”
One deep breath in, one deep breath out.
“Yes.”
It was time.
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tokupedia · 4 years
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Halloween 2019 costume ideas: Power Rangers pt. 2
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Jason Bischoff’s Beast Morpher Rangers
Jason Bischoff was the former global marketing guy for Hasbro and is an artist.
He is a genuine fan of tokusatsu (mentioned Kamen Rider on his Twitter and his love of Ex-Aid and several Heisei Rider shows) and it shows. In his final months with Hasbro, he and a buddy of his named Micheal O’ Hare came up with art for concepts of new Rangers not original to the Go-Busters source material.
The first is a Green Ranger based on the Frog Buddyroid from the Go-Busters Summer Film, “what if she had a Ranger companion”?  The next is a gray Polar Bear Ranger and an Orange female scorpion Ranger based on Jason’s viewings of Kyuranger and Sasori Orange. 
A Bat Ranger based on Blaze, a “what if the bad guy reformed and got a new suit” kind of thing. (though given its Batman’s 80th, you could also use it as an excuse to go around saying in a gravely voice “I’m Bat-Ranger!”) 
Lastly, a Magenta Sea Urchin Ranger and Hammerhead Beast Bot for you and a buddy to dress up as. 
X-Men/Power Rangers Amalgam
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A while ago at the Edmonton Expo in Alberta, Canada, Jason David Frank discovered a cosplay that had to be seen to be believed. A Canadian fan mixed the White Ranger with Wolverine. Mr. JDF then posted this to instagram
Now, this isn’t the first time that X-Men and Power Rangers have crossed paths as both shared the Fox Kids block on Saturday Mornings in the 1990s and a SDCC gatefold variant cover paid tribute to X-Men #1. Not to mention MMPR’s comic rights were once with Marvel and the whole Marvel/Super Sentai connection. The idea of X-Men Rangers is an interesting one, why not complete it?
Cyclops Red, Jubilee Yellow, Beast Blue, Pink Phoenix (if considering season 2 MMPR), Gambit Black and Rouge Green. As an alternative to Wolvie, Storm can be the White Ranger or added as the 7th Ranger team member of any color you choose. Add a Professor Z (a tube head in a hover wheelchair or a blue bald guy) and you have the complete set! Or go wild and make a Brotherhood of Mutants version of a Ranger Team!
Lord “Zackkon”
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Submitted for your approval, one Zachary Taylor, a virtuous teen who was offered a deal with the devil to be something greater, but refused. What if the youth, resentful of the choice of his team’s leadership, accepted the path that Rita Repulsa offered? 
I envision a Black Ranger who fuses his power first with the Dragon Coin, but then with powers of Green and Black Rangers after him. The core idea is to combine the Mastodon motif with a Dragon in a way that aesthetically looks good. 
Remi, the Orange Solar Ranger 
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(Ari’s Legacy Wars Bio confirms it!)
Last year, I pitched to the fandom to option dressing up as newest kid on the block, Ari aka the (Purple) Solar Ranger. This year, I’m submitting her life partner and love Remi who became the most recent addition to the Solar Rangers and another of a growing number of representatives of LGBTQ+ heroes. For those looking to cosplay with the person they love or for a fun cosmic night of Halloween, here is a Ranger couple that we hope to see more of in the future.
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A Morphing Master
The Morphing Masters are the mysterious all powerful beings who protected the Morphin Grid and dedicated their lives to studying it. The Boom! Studios comics dedicated some time to explaining them a bit more in Beyond the Grid, including a new look. 
Why be a mere three dimensional linear being on All Hallow’s Eve or at a con when you can wear a look that says “I am a supreme being beyond your trivialities and I look fabulous doing it.” 
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Warbunny
Aka my new favorite Power Rangers monster. Warbunny is a ‘roided up anthropomorphic rabbit whom, if his Conan inspired garb hasn’t telegraphed, talks like a certain former Governator and wields a large Warhammer that fires energy blasts. Cosplayers who do Warcraft costumes and other fantasy cosplay might gravitate towards this one since it parodies Arnie and Conan.
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The Soul Era MMPR Rangers
In the comics, we learn there was a ill fated team in 1969 which fought Psycho Green. Pitch: What if there were a MMPR Rangers team 5 years later in 1975, the year Gorenger was created? The era of disco and soul, big cars, afro hair kung fu movies and Watergate. The challenge I present is combining the Gorenger suits with the MMPR suits. 
Disco collar capes, platform heel variants of the boots, flashy brighter neon colors with glitter and woodgrain on the weapons because products in the 1970s had woodgrain even if it didn’t make any aesthetic sense to do so. Civilian forms would be based on 1970s fashion, at least one Ranger should have a real or fake Burt Reynolds-sized mustache and/or afro for period accuracy. 
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Dark Super Megaforce Yellow
For Ranger fans who wanna let out their inner bad girl, I present another Dark Ranger redesign of a Power Ranger from Battle For the Grid. The Gokaiger suit decked out in black and pants and a gold trim “coat” is just so good, really makes the yellow pop and looks more “piratey” than the standard suit. As you can see you can opt for an all black undershirt and yellow gloves or vice versa.
A new standard Lord Drakkon created for evil Rangers is that unlike their heroic counterparts, all of them have blood red visors instead of the standard black tint. (This also recently extends to Sentai, but we’ll get to that later.)
Houou Ranger (Chun-Li ver.)
While Ryu got to play Power Ranger, the devs of Legacy Wars decided to let none of the other characters participate in the fun. Many fans who love and respect Chun-Li were naturally outraged that she got shafted and began speculating what kind of Blue Ranger she would be. There was artistic debate as to what motif she would have with most gravitating towards a tiger, a peacock or her totem of fighting style, the crane.
I on the other hand think if Ryu lifted a Dairanger’s name for his Ranger form, it only makes sense the developers would do the same for Chun Li and give her a Chinese Phoenix motif.
The common consensus all fans share is that such a form has parts of Miss Li’s costume as part of her Ranger outfit much like with Ryu Ranger with his boxing gloves, bandanna and black belt. Whatever you choose, you are sure to be a knockout!
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Supersonic Green
The first Green gone bad chronologically in the comics, Trek was a bitter Xybiran who got sick of being benched while his team went on missions and soon that bitterness turned into hate as he empathically read the feelings of his teammates about him. He murdered his entire team and then pledged allegiance to Dark Specter to become Psycho Green.
The Fiveman team these Supersonic Rangers are based on never had a sixth ranger, since sixth Rangers were not really a thing until Zyuranger. This bring up one conundrum for this Ranger in terms of those wishing to design a full costume...what exactly is Trek’s helmet motif? 
For those who have never seen Fiveman, the theme was about types of school education each Ranger was part of. Red was a science teacher, Blue was a physical education teacher, Black was a language teacher, Pink was a math teacher and Yellow was a music teacher. 
I suppose a history book on the helmet for social studies would be appropriate as would be an apple or money symbols for home economics. It should be noted if one commits to making a helmet, the Fiveman/Supersonic Ranger helmet visors each have lines running through them to signify their numerical designation (Red has 1, Blue has 2 etc.) so Green would have six. 
That’s all I’ve got! 
Happy Halloween Ranger Nation! 
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