#I glue shiny pieces of plastic to my fingers and for what

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

The fake nails are supposed to take the sad away why aren’t the fake nails taking the sad away

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hello, oh my, damn... so english isn't my first language and i wasn't sure how to phrase it better so don't worry, i totally understand being uncomfortable and I'm sorry 😅

I did enjoy your version very much and i also think that you should definitely go for a crow reader cause that is such a cute idea!

- accidentally proposing anon

No problem! And since you're interested here's some very quick ideas I had about crow reader before I go to work today!

Alastor

Nothing phases this man anymore. Niffty literally gifted him a crown of dead roaches. So when you flutter excitedly and present him with a string of shiny can tabs, you've been collecting he accepts it graciously.

"You're quite right dear, these are incredibly colorful. Yes, very shiny are you sure you don't want to keep this? Oh! You made it for me? Well, aren't you just precious."

He makes it into a necklace or even something to decorate his horns.

Vox

Valentino likes light, you like shiny things, both of you tend to like being around screens and bright colors.

Except you don't just like screens, it's anything colorful or shiny. Actually sometimes it's not even that, its just random odds and ends that caught your attention for some reason. He gets it sometimes, textures, patterns, things like that.

But you have everything from soda can tabs to random buttons to rocks of various shapes, sizes, and colors. You have different sticks and pieces of wood you found that for some reason you then had to have. Pieces of mismatched jewelry. It's cute but it also clutters up space and he eventually designates one room for your stuff and tells you to keep it condensed. You do, and swear it's organized, but it's all just a jumbled mess to him.

He's in his lair, observing all the many different cameras, looking for some wannabe actress who owed him money, when you bounce in, barely stifling excited squaking. He sighs fondly and turns to you, knowing he's not going to be able to concentrate until he sees what you want to show him.

It's a collection of your molted feathers, the best ones, sleek and iridescent, bound together with some colorful twine you found and attached to it is a miniature glass jar filled with colorful, shiny bits of plastic, metal, and rock, and corked shut and sealed with hot glue.

It makes a nice rattle sound when he shakes it and the feathers are nice to pet and run his fingers over and..."Did you make me a fidget toy? From....random stuff you found? That's, that's actually really cute, thanks Doll."

He downplays how much he uses it, but it's literally on his key ring, so you know it goes everywhere with him and if during long meetings his staff are subjected to the consistent background noise of little shiny bits rattling around in a jar, then that's their problem.

Lucifer

As you may have noticed Lucifer also tends to collect things he has no need for. But he might need it one day! Between the two of you it does get to be a bit of a problem, so you both agree to sort through and condense your piles.

It takes days cuz you guys keep stopping to show each other cool stuff you guys have. Then, several more days just to get through his numerous rubber ducks. Eventually it's down to a single room where your collections have merged. Each item carefully chosen and presented to one another like expensive jewelry or other such luxurious things. But it's a cool rock you found, a giant bronze spring, a box full of candy wrappers with clever sayings, and a scrapbook with various brightly colored pieces of cardboard from snacks, toys, shoes, literally anything, that caught your eye.

It's anyone's guess on who adds what, but you do both have to agree on it before it's added so you don't hoard things again.

That's the end, but maybe I'll go back and add Adam and some of the other characters later. I just wanted to get my initial ideas down before work.

[brw]

rating random outfits from the vision because i am very bored

outfit one - classic look

[image id: two cropped panels of the vision from marvel comics. they are both wearing the same outfit, of a green bodysuit that covers every part of their body aside from the front of their face. with it, they wear yellow gloves, yellow boots and a knee-length cape which has a large flared collar. their torso is covered by yellow fabric which wraps around them like a corset. it ends at the top of their thighs. in the first image, they are faced to the left, with one leg raised and their cape floating around their shoulders. in the second image, they have she-hulk, thor & monica rambeau as captain marvel grouped behind them. they are facing forwards and gesturing towards the viewer with their hand. end id/]

- cape goes woosh

- literally the only thing showing is their face everything else is covered

- the collar is very dramatic and gay which i appreciate

- kinda wearing a corset thing? which is cool

- idk what's up with the diamond thing between their tits :/

- colour combo is atrocious but that's a staple of their style it seems lmao

- very out there, very dramatic

- you could probably wear something similar to a pride parade tbh just change the colours and you're good to go

- i like the gloves they look like the yellow ones you use to wash dishes in the sink with the scrubber thingy

final score - 7/10 bonus points for nostalgia & cape, its a very nice very classic look but also very modest :/ show some skin pls ur wife is basically wearing a swimsuit with gloves show a little solidarity :/

outfit two - boob window

[image id: a cropped comic cover of the vision from marvel comics. they are reaching upwards with one arm extended in an attempt to escape several grey hands reaching up to their hip trying to drag them down. their costume is one piece broken into three sections. the bottom half is green and goes slightly above their hips creating a large v-shape. the middle half is yellow and v-shaped as well. the top part reaches to their shoulders and the bottom part is to the middle of their chest, and extends all the way to their fingers. the base of the v is also the bottom of a diamond cut out revealing some of their skin in the pectoral area. the top of the diamond leads to the third and final part of the costume which is the same shade of green as the bottom. This part is a large collar, a head covering that wraps around all around their head but leaves the face uncovered, as well as a cape that is shredded at the bottom. end id/]

- very similar outfit with inverted colours and instead of adding a diamond they cut one out :)

- another wooshy cape :)

- still has their face covered all around except for the front tho :( like idk wouldn't that annoy you? what if it gets too tight or you get hot?

- i have no idea how their cape works with the diamond cleavage window thingy like?? did they just use superglue? please explain

- gloves are gone 😔

- and no more boots 😔😔😔

- corset gone why did they remove all the sexy parts the tiddy does not compensate 😔😔😔😔😔

final score - 3/10 it's basically just an inverted version of the last one except they took the Cool Sexy Bits away which makes everything boring :/ bonus points for the boob window thing though, shows the beginning of their Bimboification :)

outfit three - detective

[image id: a cropped comic cover of the vision from marvel comics. they are standing with one leg resting on something that is not in view. they are partially shadowed, and wear an intense, thoughtful expression. there is a cigarette hanging out of the side of their mouth. they look similar to a 1940s film noir character. they are wearing a white shirt that appears to be a button up, though the thickness of their tie that reaches down to their trousers obstructs any buttons. their sleeves are rolled up to around their elbows. their tie is somewhat loosened around their neck, and is white with black stripes in varying thickness. they wear a pair of thick white suspenders that connect to their trousers, which seem to be grey or a dull brown. they have one of their hands in their trouser pocket. under the same arm is a gun, though this is hard to make out in the darkness. they are also wearing a broad-rimmed fedora, which casts half their face in shadow with only their pupilless bright yellow eyes showing through. end id/]

- this ABSOLUTELY fucks

- unirionically sexy

- noir detective look very nice very cash money

- the loosened tie really just puts the whole thing together

- their face is free! no more awkward green pieces of plastic or whatever!

- calls pretty people "dames" for sure

- rolled up sleeves make me feel like a repressed victorian girl who's just begun to experiment with the Devil's Doorbell™

- smoking is bad for ur health but jesus if it isn't a vibe

- hat worn by reddit "nice guys" :/

final score - 9/10 this really is one hell of a look, very 1920s it absolutely slaps the suspenders are everything tbh if they were in a movie they'd probably be played by harrison ford idk why. anyway this ABSOLUTELY fucks and is one of my faves and is criminally underrated 🤗

outfit four - suit

[image id: two cropped panels of the vision from marvel comics. in both panels, they are wearing the same simple two-piece black suit, with a white shirt underneath their jacket. there are no buttons or pockets on their jacket, and everything seems to be perfectly ironed. their tie is long and thin, and is tight around their neck. their shoes are nondescript and black. in the first panel, vision is to the side, and is floating in the air. in the second panel, vision is standing and is facing the viewer, with their face slightly shadowed and their fists clenched at their sides. end id/]

- simple, cute, chic

- the thinness of the tie is a big change from the last one

- classic suit style, the most casual of formal wear

- office worker kind of thing but like. a FANCY office

- nondescript; no personality in it whatsoever :/

- makes them look like a conservative 😔

final score - 4/10 it's kinda boring tbh they look cute but :/ lame. shows them trying too hard to conform to humanity's standards and it is Not A Vibe. there's no Sauce & also appears in something written by t*m k*ng so the association is immediately off

outfit five - ultimates aka No Clothes Titty Out

[image id: a comic cover of the vision from marvel comics. this one is from the ultimates/1610-verse. this vision is more female-presenting then their 616 counterpart. they are not wearing any clothes. their body is golden and reflective and metallic. their body is comprised of different plates of metal, which are symmetric. just before their elbow, there is a gap in each arm between the metal plates so you can see the wires running through their arms underneath. there is a red diamond shape, still made of metal, in the area where a belly button would be on a human being. they have breasts that do not have any nipples, but have a large circle plating where the nipple would normally be. much like their 616 version they are bald with a yellow diamond in their forehead. their expression is difficult to read but they appear to be smiling slightly. their arms are raised around their head, not touching their skull but close to it. they are strutting towards the viewer with one hip jutted to the side. metal wires surround them, with none of them fully touching them aside from a thick one seemingly connected to the back of their neck. end id/]

- pussy out

- no clothes this bitch doesn't need them (but they do need titties for some reason??? bro????)

- red diamond thing to cover up the bellybutton? girl what are you hiding

- Gold And Shiny a nice change from our regularly scheduled red skin

- emulating aunt/sister/mother/whatever the fuck jocasta which is nice, it's about time vision got someone other then Fashion Disaster Wonder Man to help them out. i guess nudity is better then combining green and yellow all together with red skin jjshsheheh

- sexualised :/

- genuinely kinda hot tho i think i have succumbed to the Robot Tiddies 😔

- no idea how the physics of their hip/ass jutting out is supposed to work it looks like they dislocated something

final score - 6/10 it's cool but also why did u sexualised the android like i. also they are a robot and not a synthezoid which :( why. but u know i appreciate the pussy out kinda thing and ultimates verse vision dated sam wilson so they have good taste. points knocked off for being from the ultimates verse which is Bad™ imo

outfit six - This Fucking Thing What Is This I Hate It So Much

[image id: a cropped panel of the vision from marvel comics. they are facing the viewer with an angry expression. their fists are tightly clenched and are raised slightly. around their wrists are thick yellow spiked bracelets. their arms are uncovered. their shoulders are covered by yellow spiked shoulderpads. they are wearing a green bodysuit with a bright yellow collar around their neck and a plunged neckline that goes all the way down their chest and torso until it is obstructed by yellow underwear, which is held up by a very thick yellow ring, which is also covered in spikes. their green bodysuit continues all the way down their legs until their boots, which are go up half-way around their calves and are folded over. they have a yellow diamond stuck in the middle of their chest. they are also wearing a green helmet that is green and corinthian (greek) in style. it is also spiked. the spikes at either side of the faceplate are small and yellow. the one at the top of the helmet is the same shade of green as the helmet itself. end id/]

- why

- it's. it's so ugly

- what's with the fucking spikes

- the boots are horrendous

- helmet looks they bought it at a museum for £15 and its made out of cheap shitty poorly made and badly painted plastic

- why did they glue a yellow diamond to their chest what is the fucking point

- porcupine energy

- the shoulder pads why the fucking shoulder pads disco isn't coming back just accept it

- spike belt underwear????? why??????????? looks like they made one of those chokers huge and called it a day

- it's just. it's just so ugly. why would you think this was a good idea who is responsible

final score - 0/10 i do not want to see it

[copias-thrall]

There’s Something About Mary

A day in the life of our crusty Mr. Goore

Mary POV chapter bc I want to and I can.

⬅️ Previous

*public masturbation, kinda*

Mary wakes up horny.

He must have been having a pleasant dream, because his cock is hard and throbbing where it rests heavy against his thigh. He shoves a hand down into his undone jeans to give his cock a squeeze—just for a moment of relief—and, as the touch wakes him up fully, he realizes he can hear the distinct sounds of sex from one of the rooms. A thump thump thump and a squeak squeak squeak, all punctuated with blatant moans.

Fuck it, he thinks, and he begins to jack it to the sex orchestra going on, not 10ft from where he lies on the couch. Once a place they sometimes took turns on, the couch has become Mary’s de facto room—a subtle punishment for his supposed defection. So, he has no qualms about masturbating in his room, and if any of the other guys have an issue with it, Mary has no problem making his display more public, just for spite.

He pauses only to spit in his hand when his dry palm begins to chafe. It doesn’t even matter when the noises from the other room cease (and later Mary will have to tease them about their staying power), Mary just scrolls through his mental Rolodex until he brings up the memory of his dick in between Suey’s tits, how they jiggled despite being held together, how shiny they became once covered in his jizz, and how she looked up at him as she contorted one to bring it up to her mouth to lap some off.

“Shit, shit,” he exclaims as the memory of her pink tongue lapping up his cum causes him to release. Some shoots up his bare chest, but most of it lands and pools in his belly button. Eyes still closed, his free hand shoots out and fumbles for the box of tissues on the table, encountering instead a stack of thin takeout napkins.

As he does his best to clean himself up with the napkins—whose integrity is suspect—he can hear the low rumble of male voices and a high, feminine giggle from the sex room. Just to be a jackass, he gets himself up so that he can have first dibs on the bathroom.

Making sure to lock the door behind him, Mary turns on the hot faucet, willing the water to warm up sooner than later. He takes the opportunity, while he waits, to piss in the toilet; it’s already open—toilet seat up—even though it’s supposed to put it down when they have guests. They’re out of TP again, so a roll of paper towels rests on the lid of the tank.

Once the water is warm enough, Mary uses a couple pieces from the roll to clean off the jizz drying and to give himself a brief wipe down. His face is still half crusty with makeup, and he’s tempted to just add to it, but he’s learned from hard experience how that can fuck up your face, so—even though it’s a goddamned pain—Mary washes his face. He even uses the harsh Dial hand soap, even though the acrid smell will get up into his nose for hours.

He thinks of the nice-smelling scrub Suey has and her drugstore face cream he sometimes rubs into his skin.

In the soap- and toothpaste-speckled mirror, he starts to apply his “Day Face” (as Suey calls it) from the communal box of makeup (his better stuff is in his backpack): a light dusting of white powder; some eyeliner all the way around; a dull, red lipstick; and black shadow on his cheekbones.

He’s just starting on his hair when there comes a pounding on the door

“Fucks’ sake. C’mon, Goore.”

Mary turns his head upside down in the sink basin so he can haphazardly splash some water into his hair.

“Fuck off, douchebag.”

He starts to work his fingers into his locks, coaxing the glue already in it to activate.

“She’s gotta pee, man.”

He fluffs his forelock in the mirror as his other hand searches for the blood tube in the box.

“We have a kitchen sink.”

A small voice tells him not to take his annoyance with his friends out on the girl, and he sighs.

“Stop being a di—”

The voice cuts off as Mary swings the door open. Brendan's angry face smooths into one of minor irritation. The girl—Lisa?—stands, thighs crushed together, in an oversized kitten t-shirt. She looks at Mary, wide-eyed; her gaze darts to his bare, wet chest before snapping back up.

“Lis,” he says, winking as he saunters out.

Her face crumples a little.

“Lizzy,” she says, and Mary’s stomach swoops a bit when he realizes he’s probably slept with her before.

He makes himself smile as she moves past him to the bathroom.

“That’s what I said: Liz.” He shoots her a finger gun at her as Brendan scowls at them both. When the door closes and Brendan is still glaring, Mary lets out a “What?”

“You sticking around for breakfast, man?”

Mary rolls his eyes. “I’m here, ain’t I?” He starts to paw through the plastic shelving drawers next to the couch for a shirt.

Brendan shrugs. “Thought your pussy-whipped ass might need to get back to that uptown princess of yours.”

He glares at Brendan. “Stop being dick.”

“She’s fucking slumming it, dude. I’m warning you.”

It’s not a new argument, so Mary just ignores him, instead trying to apply a bit of blood to the tip of his forelock using the heart compact Suey gave him.

Titus emerges from the shared room, yawning, in his terrible leopard print robe that’s way too short.

“Morning, asswipe,” he says to Mary as he walks by. “What’re we bitching about?”

Brendan says “uptown girl” as Mary says “nothing.”

Titus sighs.

“Jesus, Brendan. You gotta get over that. That’s Mary’s mistake to make.”

“You know what? Fuck this shit.” Mary starts getting his backpack in order.

“That’s right! Blow off another band meeting!” says Brendan, and Mary spins on his heel to stomp back.

He jabs a finger into his chest. “I’m here all the goddamned time, more than I am at her place. I come to every meeting you tell me about.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you about anything. You should just be here. You should be committed,” hisses Brendan.

“I’m going to make some toast,” says Titus as he swishes toward the kitchen.

Mary rifles through his plastic draws and slams a notebook and loose papers onto the table.

“There’s mine, dude. Lyrics. Composition. Where’s yours?”

Donnie and Jamie wander out of their room.

“Not this shit again. It’s too fucking early,” says Donnie.

Brendan vibrates. “What about funds, man? A social media presence? You think all that happens by magic?”

“So I’m supposed to write, and compose, and do the budget?” snarls Mary.

“Guys,” moans Jamie.

“And our Insta is shit, by the way.”

“Fuck. Can we not?” moans Donnie.

Mary again jabs a finger at Brendan. “Then tell him to can it. I’ve already been exiled to the couch. I don’t need him picking fights because he doesn’t like my girlfriend, who—by the way—has never fucking done anything wrong.”

“You haven’t been exil—” Jamie starts.

“We were supposed to fucking share those rooms,” Mary hisses as he gesticulates. “I pay the same amount of rent, and yet I come home one day to find all my stuff in a pile in the living room. I have to wait for you guys to stop playing video games because ‘this is shared space’ to fucking sleep.”

“We all agreed—”

“No. You guys agreed. I didn’t get shit to say about it. So you’ll forgive me if I’m not too fucking keen on being pleasant.”

They all stand there, glowering at each other until Donnie says, “I need to take a goddamned piss,” and finds the bathroom door locked. At his soft The fuck? the lock clicks, and Lizzy opens the door cautiously.

“I’m sorry. It just. Seemed like you guys were getting into it.”

Brendan sighs. “C’mon, babe. Let’s get your stuff.”

The fight isn’t a new one, and—with no resolution in sight—they all drop the subject so they can get on with the breakfast of eggs on toast Titus brings out and the subsequent band meeting. The Brick—a cheap, overworked laptop—is brought out so they can go over band business: the budget; the van maintenance and parking costs; the gig and practice schedule is outlined so that they can align their work shifts; new merch ideas are bandied about; and they talk about how to improve their digital sales.

Mary’s leg jiggles impatiently.

The meeting breaks nearly 5hrs later; Jamie goes back to sleep because he’s got the night shift at the Quik•Mart; Brendan heads out for his afternoon shift at Target; it’s Donnie’s day off, so he cues up Mario Kart; and Titus decides he’s going to go pound on the drums in the practice space they rent, since his dad pays his bills.

Mary has been saddled with stopping by the local record stores to see if any of their physical CDs have sold to prove he’s “committed,” even though he’s got the closing shift at Sixes & Sevens.

As he’s leaving the building, he encounters Brendan, who is leaning against the brick, smoking a cigarette. Mary’s fingers twitch.

“So you’re not coming back tonight, then.”

“We have band business?”

“No.”

“Then, no.”

Brendan lets out a puff of smoke.

“You think I’m being a dick, but that girl does not care about you. She’s a tourist. Us—the band. That’s what’s real, Mary.”

Mary knows he should keep walking, but even after counting to 10, he’s still pissed, so he spins on his heel.

“You don’t know anything about her or her goddamned life.”

“Neither do you.” He finishes the smoke, then tosses it to the pavement to grind under his combat boot. “We’ll be here when it all explodes in your face, Goore. But you’re going to have to rebuild a lot of bridges.”

And then he’s off down the sidewalk. Mary stands there, seething, waiting until Brendan disappears round the corner since he’s also headed in that direction.

He’s not really in the best of moods when he hits up the first store, but by the 4th, he’s back to his plucky repartee. The owner of his favorite shop intimates that a vinyl version of their LP might sell much better than their DIY CD, and Mary enthusiastically thanks the dude as if it’s the first time such a concept has been considered.

The whole route honestly doesn’t even really take that much time at all—maybe 2 hours—so he chances stopping by Suey’s. Worst case, he’ll take a nap; best case, she’ll be there to bitch at him.

Like everything else today, however, circumstances are just not on his side, and he opens the door to her tiny fucking apartment to find it empty. The mail is bad again, and he rifles through it, plucking out anything that’s obviously junk to toss and anything that looks like a bill to put on her counter. There’s only a bowl in the sink, so he leaves it.

He’s hoping that she comes home before he has to leave—maybe she’ll even give him a blow job—as he wraps himself up in the afghan that smells slightly of her.

She doesn’t.

His alarm wakes him up at 4:15pm for his shift at 6. Groggily, he stumbles to the fridge to see what there is to eat, and finds a pot crammed in haphazardly amongst the other food items. Mary’s not really sure what he’s looking at—Suey tends to just throw shit together when she can’t be bothered, but most of the time it’s edible.

It ends up being some sort of cheesy potato stew and actually isn’t that bad. He eats the whole thing out of the pot before scrubbing it and the lone bowl clean. He waits as long as he dares to watch her come clomping tiredly through her door, but he really does have to leave. He leaves a kiss on her mirror after he reapplies his lipstick. (He should probably redo his face but: eh.)

Work is work. It starts slow—with Mary taking down the chairs and wiping off everything with the disinfectant spray. Sometimes Mary finds this kind of Zen—a time to hum out chords and roll around lyrics in his head—but today he’s just tired. It gets a little better when Mickey and the other bartender show up to do citrus prep. It’s a weekday, so there’s only a moderate crowd, and Mickey leaves them to it so he can do business manager-type things in his office.

And then there are the girls. Most of the girls who come to Sixes & Sevens aren’t the type to be put off by Mary’s whole shtick—and there are obviously the ones who come here expressly to flirt with him—so he has no qualms turning on his charms. Mickey lets him do it because customers are customers, and if girls want to come and spend money on drinks while they purr at Mary, who is Mickey to stop them? Len or Mika don’t give a shit because tips are pooled.

Used to be Mary could have his pick of a warm body for the evening—some girl (or occasionally some guy if Mary deemed him beefy enough) who’d take him to her nice-smelling, clean apartment … who’d let him spend the night on her soft, downy pillows after he pounded her into next year, before kicking him out at dawn. But now he’s got a girlfriend—one who makes sure he eats and yells at him to wash his face—waiting for him in her stale apartment with her flat, polyester pillows, and Mary hopes he’s not fool enough to fuck that up.

Not that his dick has gotten the memo.

No matter how many times Mary tells that fucker that he’s not going to fuck any of these women, his dick still twitches in interest whenever plump lips are wrapped around straws or fingertips trail over his hand. Tonight is especially bad for some reason, and Mary has to stick close to the walls of the bar so that no one can see his semi. A girl in a furry, white shrug seems particularly on his dick, and he does his best to flirt just enough for a good tip, but not enough for a proposition.

When he gets his break, Mary takes it out back in the alley by the dumpster. The air is chill, but it feels good after the humidity of the bar. He was hoping maybe his dick would go down, but it’s like it’s trying to spite him. Leaning his head back on the wall, he can’t help but close his eyes and run his palm lightly over the outline. It’s a fool’s errand—it’s not like he can get off without it showing on his pants—but that doesn’t stop him from touching.

A voice clears, and Mary startles. He’s out here by the rancid garbage so he can be alone, so he wasn’t really expecting to find anyone else.

“I can help you with that,” says the girl with the white fur that may or may not be real. She’s standing across from him, and he can see that she’s in a dress so simple that it must be hella expensive. She’s holding an unlit cigarette.

Mary jerks his hand away from his crotch, shifting so that he can surreptitiously adjust his jeans.

“The fuck are you doing out back here?”

She shrugs. “Needed to get away from my bitches. I love them but: drama city. You got a light?”

He knows it’s a ruse, but he still fumbles out his Zippo because he’s a goddamned gentleman. She, shockingly, takes the opportunity to move in closer to his body as he holds out the flame … close enough to blow the smoke of the first drag in his face.

“So,” she says, eyes darting down to his semi. “You want me suck that?” She gesticulates with her chin, posture nonchalant but eyes hungry.

His dick gives an answering throb, but he shrugs. “Nah. I got a girl.”

She looks at him, assessing, before half crossing her arms and taking another drag. Smoke pours out her nose.

“She’s not here.”

Mary doesn’t respond immediately, not knowing how to get out of this. She hasn’t said anything untrue. He’s horny, Suey’s not here, and she wants to suck his cock.

He reaches his hand up and taps his breast where he thinks his heart is.

“She’s here,” he says, and he’s glad Suey’s not present because hoo boy would she give him shit for that winner.

The girl just tilts her head at him, this time blowing smoke out the side of her mouth after she inhales. It occurs to Mary that he wants her cigarette more than his dick wants to be sucked. If she thinks this is some kind of elaborate game of hard to get, she’s sorely mistaken.

“You got a picture?”

“A … what?”

She gesticulates impatiently. “A picture. Of this girlfriend.”

Mary thinks, then pats around for his wallet, even though he only ever puts it in his back pocket. When she sees the wallet come out, she laughs.

“An actual picture? That’s old school.”

He shrugs as he rifles. “I’m on my break.” He doesn’t tell her that his ancient flip phone doesn’t take pictures. Well, not good ones.

The photo of Suey he has is relatively new—slipped in behind the old, worn one of his mum—but its edges are starting to soften. In the image, Suey stands, hip popped, as she gives him the finger with a snotty look on her face. She’s in one of her weird 90′s outfits—a micro mini and tied up band tee—and the cute pudge of her belly hangs over her waist band a little. Her hair is pushed back from her face because she’s just lifted up her sunglasses—there’s still a little mark on her nose where they were resting.

She hates this picture, but her attitude makes him smile.

“You gonna ogle it all night, Mary?”

Mary’s attention snaps back to the alley. He ignores the intimacy. Carefully, with a stern look on his face that he hopes conveys how much the photo is not to be fucked with, he hands the picture over.

White Fur looks at the picture for a long time. Then she looks up at him. She gives the image one more glance before handing it back to him.

“Yeah, ok,” she says as she crosses her arms again.

Mary tucks the photo back into his wallet.

“The fuck does that mean?” he scowls. He’s just about had it with people insulting Suey today, and some random-ass girl in a back alley is the last person he’d let get away with it, even if she is a fan.

She takes her last drag before flicking the stub in the direction of a dumpster.

“Dunno. You seem like the type to have some scene girl with more legs than brains hanging off your arm.”

Mary thinks that’s a little uncharitable: he’s always been an equal-opportunity lay.

“She seems legit though,” the girl continues. “Makes sense.”

“Uh. Thanks?”

“Yeah, no problem.” She heads for the door, but stops to smirk at him. “Looks like I helped after all.”

As she swings back inside, Mary looks down to realize his hard-on is gone.

Mickey doesn’t cut him early, but he doesn’t make him stay past closing either. Even so, it’s still after 3am when he gets to Suey’s. The bills are gone from the counter, but there are no new dishes in the sink. He opens the fridge to find a pizza box crumpled into the top, balanced precariously on the other items. Mary takes it out and inhales the cold pizza right from the box; he knows they’re all for him because Suey fucking hates pepperoni. (Though it doesn’t escape his notice that she’s put one piece of pineapple in the center to mess with him.)

He leaves the box by the trash (he’ll flatten it tomorrow), and then makes his way to her bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, lest he incur her wrath.

When he finally wiggles into her twin bed in his boxers, he’s bone tired. His dick still kinda wants some action, but Mary thinks he’d probably just fall asleep in the middle, and Suey really would bite his head off if he woke her up for no reason. He wishes she’d just sleep nude, but finding her in one of his well-worn shirts is the next best thing. He doesn’t mean to wake her up, but he can’t help himself from running his hands all over her—this girl who sees him and not his “image.”

“Mare?” she says in a quiet, sleepy voice.

He kisses her head.

“Go back to sleep, baby doll.”

She doesn’t speak again, but she squirms around until she’s sprawled across his chest. He’d prefer to have her caught up in a little spoon, but having her pressed into him—body sleep warm—is nothing to wave a stick at.

This is all he wanted, anyway.

Next ➡️

[desertdollranch]

Happy Birthday, Felicity!

April 21st, 1775 is the day that Felicity turns ten years old, and it is a memorable day indeed. Felicity feels as if she has broken the trust of her Grandfather and her parents, and she wonders if they will forgive her. 

But when she walks into the parlor and sees the table set for a celebration, she knows that they love her no matter what. Grandfather reminds her of this. “You were born on this day ten years ago,” he says to her, as he presents her with a vase full of flowers. “And with your birth began a joy unlike any other we’d ever known. We want to celebrate the joy you bring us, Felicity.”

I too wanted to celebrate the joy my Felicity brings me, and so I recreated her birthday celebration as best as I could with what I had. I based all of it on her retired party treats and dishes. 

On the left is her chocolate set (the Merrimans drank hot chocolate instead of tea) which included a shiny metal chocolate pot. On the right is her party treats set which included the quintal (five-fingered) vase, glass platter with a cake and tarts and candied fruits, and a little shepherdess figurine.  

First is the quintal vase, carried by Grandfather and presented to Felicity. He has filled it with beautiful garden flowers, a sign of the renewal of springtime. 

In the center is the stubborn weed from Felicity’s garden. No matter how many times she pulled it, the weed always came back. “I decided something that is so determined to grow must be respected,” he tells her. “And I think someone as brave as you must be forgiven a mistake.” 

My version of the quintal vase is made from baking soda clay and coated with several layers of super glossy Mod Podge to give it the look of porcelain. I used plastic straws to support the vase’s fingers, and built the clay around them so that the opening wouldn’t collapse. I used a needle to create crosshatch lines in the fingers. I bought some tiny white faux flowers and used fabric pens to color in a few of them with various springtime colors. The blossoming weed in the middle is a tiny faux rosebud. 

Happy Birthday, Felicity! describes “the glass pyramid laden with a cake and tarts” set up on the dining table. 

For the glass pyramid, I used a small glass plate from the dollar store for the bottom plate, and a plastic lid for the top plate. There are small clear plastic cups separating the layers. Her chocolate pot, to the right, is a thrift store find, which I think was probably a little coffee creamer pitcher. 

The cake is made from applesauce-cinnamon clay. Those are the only two ingredients, and it dries very hard and durable and smells nice. I glazed it with Mod Podge and sprinkled it with salt, meant to look like sugar but without the risk of attracting ants.  

The tarts, candied fruit, and marzipan strawberries are painted clay. 

To mimic the little circular shaped look of blueberries and cherries, I poked the wet clay with the nozzle on a tube of tacky glue. For the strawberries, I mounted each berry on a toothpick and then poked them all over with another toothpick. 

The plates are Mason jar lids I painted white, then glued on flower cutouts from some fancy scrapbook paper.

The mugs are made from clay and more flower cutouts. I shaped the clay around a prescription drug bottle, and twisted small snakes of clay for the handles. They’re coated in glossy Mod Podge. This was my first attempt at doll-sized mugs so they’re a little rough around the edges. Usually I would just use my tea set, but the story mentions that they’re Felicity’s favorite mugs, so I felt this scene deserved something a little more fancy. 

The shepherdess figurine is made from painted clay, built around a very thin dowel to keep it from collapsing as it dried. I spent nearly a whole day working on this. First I found an auction listing of the original piece (there are a few versions of it, I think) and copied it as best as I could, using toothpicks and needles to carve out fine details. Then I painted it and applied a few coats of glossy Mod Podge to give it a ceramic look. It’s about three inches high. It’s not mentioned in the narrative, but appears in the illustration. 

Felicity’s guitar is a dollar store find that I modified. I cut the pear shape of the guitar’s body from a piece of poster board, then cut the little flower motif from parchment paper. I fit it over the guitar face and reattached the strings. 

And of course, Posie is Posie! She’s wearing a festive pink ribbon to match all the pink in Felicity’s outfit. 

[fitz1813]

Polymer clay tips from someone who's been experimenting with it for the past three years:

I started with a sculpey brand set so I had a lot of colors to work with, then replaced the ones I needed

Buy colors you use often, like white, in bulk

If you use jump rings for charms or jewelry, get pliers and wire cutters, it's not worth destroying your scissors and fingernails

Use baby wipes to clean your hands and surface

Invest in some tools, but most things you can substitute. I use a sewing needle to cut and make details, a baby knife to cut big chunks, and aluminum foil and not-for-teeth toothbrush to texture.

I did get nail art tools that have little balls on the ends and can double as rolling pins

When making larger objects, fill it with aluminum foil

Turn scrap clay into beads

Don't put polymer clay in airtight containers, it'll become sticky and gross. It's plastic based, not real mud clay

Polymer clay is still squishy right out of the oven. The colder it is immediately after being taken out, the stronger it'll be

Liquid clay is amazing and even if the tiny bottle is expensive, it lasts for a long time

If you coat it in mod podge before it goes in the oven, it gets nice and shiny afterwards, and is a sort of glaze/glue

It doesn't matter how much you think you suck, most people don't know what polymer clay is and will hail you as a supreme deity regardless of skill

Use fimo brand clay to make canes, sculpey is too soft since it's good for kids and beginners and people with weak fingers (I am the latter)

Premo brand clay has good colors and isn't too soft or too hard

Fimo may be hard to squish, but work it between your fingers a bit gradually and it'll get softer

You can buy canes online, they're super cheap

Superglue fixes everything but don't bake it

You can mix clay with glitter, chalk pastels, and some makeup. I haven't tried nail polish but I have a feeling it won't work

Piping tips are a bitch to clean but clean them anyway, you'll thank yourself later

Mix the premo color pearl with any other color and it'll turn sparkly too

It helps to have a sketch beforehand of what you're making, labelled with colors so you know where to start

Start with light colors first, then gradually get darker

If you need to switch back to light after using dark, wipe your hands on those baby wipes

Red, certain greens, and glittery colors are ones you should wipe your hands and surfaces thoroughly after using. No not black so much unless you're switching to a super light color

Mix media!! Paint it, glue it to something else, etc. Art is beautiful in its variety!!

Liquid glue does not disappear when it's finished baking, it comes out white

Try new colors!! They won't bite

When eye pins are too long, cut them down to size and make other smaller ones with the ends you cut off

Don't put your creations on the edge of a shelf... I am speaking from brokenhearted experience

Bead organizing boxes are an excellent way to store your creations

If you suddenly are struck with inspiration, text/email the idea to yourself, write it down, or put it in a notes app

Reference photos are not just for drawing and painting artists

Follow YouTube tutorials and watch their collections and trades because not everything they make comes with a tutorial and you can discover other artists this way

If there isn't a tutorial, picture how the pieces fit together. Three dimensional art is easier for me to puzzle together, so imagine how it comes together. It'll get easier with time as you watch more tutorials, and soon you won't have to

Imitation is the sincerest compliment, or however the saying goes. I copied everything I made when I started out, then gradually had my own ideas. It comes with time

If you copy or heavily draw inspiration from someone else and put pictures of your creation out on the internet, make sure to give credit where it is due

Crochet thread makes for excellent tassels if you make jewelry

Practice practice practice

Take breaks when you need to, especially for your eyes

If you make slabs, lots of people use pasta makers to roll them out flat, but rolling pins are cheaper

Make what you love

If you don't love it, give it away. Most people don't have standards for what they don't know

Don't be discouraged by the talented artists out there. It takes time and money to get that good, and that isn't readily available to many people. Talent is also in short supply

I don't sell on Etsy because I don't want to get sued, but it's a vague future plan. If you want to motivate yourself that way, go for it if you think you're ready. There are plenty of sellers out there who make fabulous creations, and some who are simply average, so don't let a lack of skill deter you

Clay isn't for everyone. I have small hands, which definitely helps, and some people (or fools) just aren't drawn to three dimensional art. If you don't love it, it's okay to move on to something else.

Fancy clay can be bought only online, so I haven't done it, but it looks pretty cool in the pictures

Have a designated area for clay, and keep it generally clean most of the time so wipedowns at the beginning aren't too bad

Your designated area for clay should be one solid, light color so you can see any dirt specks, hairs, etc. that might appear in the middle of your work

Gold foil is pretty cool and can be baked with clay

Read the baking instructions on clay packages

It's ok to mix brands, bake somewhere in the middle if the baking heat is different

Acrylic paint goes well on everything, including polymer clay

Paper clips are bakeable too

Small thin things don't have to be baked for as long

It's okay if you forget about your clay. Once I left mine in the oven for forty minutes and it was fine

Suede brown in sculpey is a pretty lit color

Ecru clay in premo is good for mixing, mix it with white for vanilla cakes

Art is beautiful heck yeahhh

[blogpost66]

Tips for Easy Jacket Back Needlework for PATCH DESIGNER

Master 2 necessary variables-- hooping as well as positioning-- for much less complicated, gratifying sewouts.

It's that time of year once again. The environment is obtaining cooler, the dropped leaves are modifying colors and likewise individuals are attracting jackets out of storage rooms. As an embroiderer, why not benefit the possibility to market even more embellished things in this apparel group?

Coats as well as coats can be terrific moneymakers. They are much more pricey as well as supply themselves to higher margins. In addition, if a client desires a large style on the back, you can obtain optimal manufacturing from your equipment, which suggests optimum income if you are a PATCH CREATOR.

I made use of to dislike doing big formats on coats. They are harder to hoop as well as also the huge designs take a long time to run; I utilized to think such styles were eating my maker time. I ultimately understood my thinking was incorrect. Yes, the coat was on the equipment for a long time, nevertheless the layout still was producing cash for me-- and additionally at a better price than a great deal of my left-chest logo layout sewouts.

Let's say I'm running a 5,000-stitch logo on golf shirt. I can get perhaps eight runs an hour. If I'm charging $1 per thousand stitches, that's $40 a hr (per head). On the other hand, if I have a 60,000-stitch style, it is mosting likely to take a human resources as well as 20 minutes to sew. Nonetheless, I'm obtaining $60 for the layer back format. That exercises to $45 per hour and also I truly did not require to function as hard. I might sit back and likewise relax as well as likewise the enable the maker do the benefit a hr approximately. This remains in addition to the reality that there normally is far more revenue margin in the markup of layers as a result of their high cost factor.

Since it's evident that coats can be as rewarding-- otherwise a whole lot much more so-- than the "typical" things most embroiderers stitch, allow's take a look at the challenges of managing layers. First of all, there are various coat ranges. From wind breakers and additionally warm-ups to Varsity jackets as well as workwear, they are available in all products as well as additionally thicknesses. Some are shiny, tough, thick and also slim-- and afterwards, certainly, there's all-natural leather. Learning to take care of all the variants takes a while along with technique, yet there are some principles you can follow-- despite the kind of layer you are dealing with-- that will definitely aid guarantee success.

MAINTAINING AND HOOPING

Prior to beginning any kind of kind of task, it is required to choose the appropriate stabilizer. The good news is, the selections are simple when it comes to coats. For light-weight layers, like wind breakers and likewise different other nylon layers, a sheet of tearaway stabilizer require to be enough. For thicker layers, little or no stabilizer whatsoever is needed.

When making your option, remember that the secret is just how much an item stretches. Thick layers have little stretch and so much mobile lining that consisting of one more layer of something is not absolutely helping anything. If you stress over distortion, toss a thing of tearaway stabilizer behind it which will certainly be more than adequate. The only time an exploded view stabilizer is required is when you're stitching stretchy weaved layers.

Hooping coats, specifically thick ones, constantly is a barrier. They are larger than a normal-size garment. Frequently, embroiderers do not have a theme for the mounting board to fit the back hoop measurement and likewise there are extremely couple of suggestions for you to know whether the layer is hooped right.

If you sew a lot of coats, it pays to purchase or make a mounting theme for your framework board, or have a table that appropriates for hooping these bigger items. It does not have to be expensive; I utilize a traditional workdesk. I find it is the perfect dimension for the layer and also it similarly allows me to use more descending pressure as I try to push thick jackets right into a hoop.

LINING IT UP

The point of using a hooping device is to help in getting points aligned frequently from product to piece. Coats can be a little tough when it worries alignment, particularly when they do not have numerous marks or joints. Facility joints produce very easy alignment, as well as likewise lots of coats have a seam up around the shoulders, that makes a fantastic, straight line to referral. Simply ensure the design stays listed below that shoulder joint for proper placement.

If there are no joints or numerous other reference marks, start by noting where you desire the facility of the style to be. Positioning guides state to place the layout 7-10 inches listed below the neck. This depends upon the measurement of the design along with the style of the layer.

You frequently can reference the sleeves and also lowest level of the layer, too. Line up the clips on the hoop with the sleeves to aid straighten out the layout. Afterwards, to guarantee straightness, step from each side of the hoop to the bottom of the coat to guarantee it is even. I make use of the tab on the hoop where the steel clips are screwed on for the referral point on each side of the hoop.<br>

PUSHING THINGS IN

Hooping a slim layer isn't really a big deal. Thick coats, nevertheless, are one more story. Relying on its density, there are different strategies you can utilize to obtain the coat onto the embroidery machine, as well as additionally there are some standard and also not-so-conventional methods for attaining this.

A great deal of coats you sew will definitely fit in a hoop; they just require a great deal of initiative along with strength to do so. In these instances, you can attempt to loosen up the adjusting screw greater than what need to be required to hold the coat prior to hooping. When the product is hooped, just tighten up the screw.

Normally, it is not suggested to utilize tools to aid in tightening up the screw-- yet I make an exemption in the case of thick, durable products like substantial coats. It sometimes calls for a lot more make use of than can simply be created by even the best of fingers. A collection of pliers (or screwdriver, depending upon your changing screw) might remain in order.

Most of the moment, jackets should be hooped inverted because of the reality that the midsection has a larger opening than the neck. That suggests less product will certainly be accumulated in the back, and also it makes the coat much less complicated to jump on and additionally off the maker. It additionally is a lot less most likely to catch on something or push the hoop off the gadget.

There are numerous hoops on the market with countless credit to assist with these problems. Allied's Grid-Lock collection consists of a really prolonged readjusting screw that enables the hoop to open broader. These hoops also consist of grid lines to assist with positioning.

When pushing the internal ring into the hoop, begin with one side and also afterwards the various other rather than trying to press the whole hoop in entirely. This "heel-to-toe" method helps for take advantage of as well as additionally to line things up. Let's state I'm making use of the top-shoulder joint as a mark. I can line up and likewise establish that side of the hoop at first, after that press in the bottom side.

Another alternative is to use a larger-than-necessary hoop. I understand this breaks the conventional wisdom that states to make use of the smallest-possible hoop, but in some cases it is almost hard to acquire a thick coat right into hoop of a smaller sized dimension. The additional location in a larger hoop makes this possible. This periodically holds true, especially with smaller positionings.

The hoop popping apart is one of the most disheartening things that can occur when managing thick coats. This normally occurs right after you get it hooped and additionally are relocate to the equipment. Also even worse is when it occurs while embroidery. To ease this trouble, I utilize plastic springtime clamps around the beyond the hoop. You need to take care to guarantee they do not strike anything, yet that they assist maintain the hoop with each other while sewing.

Whatever you do, some layers simply will certainly not fit in a hoop. Do not stress and anxiety. There are suggests to obtain points onto the needlework tools that aren't in a hoop. For newbies, when utilizing a regular hoop in addition to glue stabilizer, you can stick the product into the hoop. To do this, hoop the stabilizer with the peel-away paper still on it. Once it is hooped, score the paper to in addition to peel it away. Put the hoop onto the machine and afterwards align the layer over it. It is a good concept to utilize basting stitches at the start of the style to better safe it to the stabilizer. Basting stitches are absolutely lengthy (9mm-10mm) running stitches around the beyond the style that can be utilized to tack it down prior to the needlework begins. The size makes them simple to get rid of as quickly as the style is completed.

This coincides concept as the Fast Frames and the EMS HoopTech Quick Change structures use. These supply a less complex methods to get the coat onto the maker in contrast to hooping absolutely thick points.

Nevertheless, there are a few disadvantages to utilizing this approach. First is the placement. Because the hoop is on the within, there is no aesthetic recommendation that will definitely recommend whether it is straight. Second, the layer's cellular lining will certainly stick, leaving the external layer to move. To overcome this, I connect the plastic spring protects around the outside of the hoop to hold things together.

You can currently actually excitedly expect the cooler weather and also the subsequent layer orders you will certainly get this period. They might need a little a lot more job, but the repayment is absolutely worth it. You can loosen up in addition to value the appealing autumn leaves while your manufacturer winds up those long, profitable jacket back runs.

[fan-art-ic]

THE PRINCIPLES OF BEING AN UNTETHERED ZEALOT by @fan-art-ic

[id under cut]

THE PRINCIPLES OF BEING AN UNTETHERED ZEALOT

if you stopped telling people it's all sorted out after they're dead,

they might try sorting it all out while they're alive.

I.

I grew up in a small room with white walls and grey floors, with plastic tables where I sat, making a cross from craft foam and a glue stick. An older lady named Mrs. K, or Ms. Z would tell the room about a man named Jesus, who died for our seven-year old sins of lying —about if we brushed our teeth— stealing —a french fry off a plate, and cheating —at monopoly.

I grew up in church after church after church, in car rides ten twenty and eighty minutes long, told that something holy exists, and how my mom may have cried out in pain as my head crowned, but there was a man in the sky who created me. I learned to recite words of punishment, the same words that the angels spoke at gomorrah, to earn pieces of candy and pocket-toys.

Until I was ten, I went to church. Then the bed called louder in the early morning hours, so I never went to Sunday school again. For over half of my life, I was told there was something righteous in the air, and something revenant in the water, and if I pried open my feral child heart to let the Lord in, I would not be damned, tortured, and abandoned to eternal agony in death.

II.

I’m not sure exactly, of how to explain this: I don’t believe in God, I believe in GOD in People. I believe in the pain of kneeling before something Bigger. I believe in how sunlight burns my skin like a cherub’s sword. I believe in the community of Same Heart and Faith. I believe in how hair glows like a halo under streetlights. I believe in the ineffability and complexity of a Humanity.

Does this make sense?

Does you witness the way my heart is bruised before you?

The LORD is my SHEPHERD, I shall not want— but I shall need and do need. I need so desperately. I own a gaping, aching need to fill myself with a Truth, a Truth that’s been left unfilled but created from hours of study, hunched over silk-thin paper and imprinting into my child mind the grief of Mary, the faith of Abraham, and the belief of Paul.

I ask myself —the hole asks itself— what about the tragedy of Emmanuel? Carpenter, friend, son, and Son? Whispered to by a man who called Himself “Father”, who ordered young Emmanuel to bleed and strip himself —hanging bone-splintered above his mother and city— humble to save his neighbors, his heroes, his mother and father?

I ask myself —the hole asks itself— what about the tragedy of Job? Faithful, beautiful Job, ever servant to his God, and suffered endlessly and countlessly as a test of his belief. His children dead and friends’ backs turned on him —blaming words like knives under his shoulder blade— now a man with nothing, toyed with by his God, who already knew Job would remain to any length in His name.

I ask myself —the hole asks itself— what about the tragedy of Lucifer? God’s right-hand, most beloved as all? Wings that glimmered and made sinless —for sin was not yet invented— angels shiny with awe? Lucifer Morningstar, named so for being full of light, bright and beautiful as the dawning sun painting color across the brand new sky, who God designed to have the tint of pride, to have thoughts God would not like, and who was destined to burn from curiosity into something dark, twisted, ashen, disturbed?

I cannot believe in God, for He would take my belief and grasp it with both hands and twist and yank and distort me into another story for a seven-year old child to be told in a room with white walls and grey floors.

III.

Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines religious as: ‘relating to or manifesting faithful devotion to an acknowledged ultimate reality or deity // a religious person // religious attitudes 2 : of, relating to, or devoted to religious beliefs or observances //joined a religious order 3a : scrupulously and conscientiously faithful b : FERVENT, ZEALOUS’

I have faithful devotion to: -Doodling on tests and quizzes and legal documents -Staying up late to read yet another chapter -Finishing shows (unless I get bored mid-episode in which I never finish it) -A love of cats -Respecting my mother -Disrespecting my father (subtly though, I don’t want to get smacked again) -Writing bad poetry -Writing half-bad prose -Ordering the same food every time (because experience has taught me that the familiar is better)

I wouldn’t call myself [SCRUPULOUS] or [CONSCIENTIOUS], but I will accept, defend, and fight for [b: FERVENT, ZEALOUS]. I am this quiet, barren thing, dull as the metal hull of Oppenheimer’s pride. In my third eye I am Powerful and Strong and Shiny new like the metal glint of a knight with armor polished, my sword strung at the hip.

My child heart rests dormant in my chest and feral in my memories. Memories of bashing a head against a church floor, of a heady violent form taking hold of my dirty, grubby fingers.

IV.

The LORD became God when Man forgot to write about how the LORD wept for his Children on the Eighth Day.

V.

I haven’t touched the ground today. I was too busy noticing the angels who sat on the park bench talking about deadlines and soul quotas. The same cigarette touched their not-lips and the one with muddy shoes flicked the doggend onto the sidewalk, grinding it into ash with his heel.

I heard one say that love isn’t Love —I could hear the capital in his voice— and the other snorted, a strange trill echoing from his inhuman fleshy throat. “What’s the difference, then?” he asked. “love is a service, a loan with one-hundred-and-ten interest.” My toes brushed the dirt and the first angel kept talking: “Love is a selfish act mangled and chewed and torn, it hurts worse than a Fall and is worth more than Grace.”

“I don’t get it, both sound fucking awful,” the other angel said.

“It’s called free will.”

They began a new cigarette and I started to walk again. I think I learned something there, in the park, near those angels. I think I saw the ash grey halos and heard human things for ethereal beings, and understood how the wine-dark of the sea crashes so brutally over the cliffs, drawing artists and writers to its beat, begging to be seen in its violent shores.

VI.

When I was twelve, I tried to touch God. I rode in tense silence, ten minutes there, ten minutes back, to a youth group at a big, white church that had a parking lot so big, I would collapse racing kids one end to the other. I stood in the gym where other twelve-year olds threw footballs and frisbees and free advice, before the pastor would give God’s advice after we all stood for five songs of worship to God, blessing him for shelter, food, water, life, for the absence of pain and presence of joy.

My feet ached and my baby soul hurt, wretched from the inability to embrace the Word of God from the mouths of people who preached kindness and then placed me in groups of kids during activities, where I became a specter: a disheveled, nail-chewing, hair band-snapping, too-solid ghost.

I abandoned church at age sixteen. I tried to find God in the evergreens and mountain air and streaking skies. When my counselor asked if everyone in the tent believed in God, I said maybe. I wanted to be honest and brave, knighted in Truth. What I got was an interrogation, a smiting on those wooded hidden paths, with commands of faith poured down my gasping throat and my pinched nose.

God is the name of justification, and I could not find Him for my own Justice.

VII.

When I was a child, I was told of a resolution, solution, dissolution of all worries, fears, trappings of the human sickness. I was told of Something not greater, but Bigger then my whole world —granted, a seven-year old’s world is the size of an oyster, with them as the pearl— that dealt in a hand of cards with each suit a different type of miracle. My mind was imprinted on with the imagery, the shining glory, of angels and wings and chariots, who swept man off his feet to spit Words of Truth, handpiece to God and examples to look up to —but no one ever mentioned how Moses was buried in the sand.

The neural pathways for divine faith have been ordered, constructed, red ribbon cut, all for no crowd to show up. I have an illness that requires an intervention of a LORD on HIGH, but all I have are the echoes of a Man’s God being read to a group of children in a white room with grey floors.

[rm-dimplemaster-blog]

don’t deserve your love (vhope)

(read more break included- press to read the whole fic :) )

for @ollania

The first time Hoseok hits Tae, it's by accident.

Middle of July. All seven of them are working on a complex dance in the practice room. AC is busted—it's literally in pieces hanging off the wall with all its green and yellow wires dangling like tangled-up cat whiskers. Tae is sweating off all his mascara. He put some fairyland purple on his left eye, disco animal black on his right (massive chunks of glitter that poke your eyeball everytime you blink included) earlier in the kitchen while he was catching a tan by the giant window all across his bare back and freckled shoulders. And now it's running down his cheeks, pooling in his cupid's bow, and it looks like he's been crying stardust tears.

The blow comes outta nowhere. An elbow straight to the chin. Knocks him down in a sec cause he wasn't prepared. He falls in a heap on the floor, red and purple striped shirt, dark damp hair and unlaced light-orange snickers.

Someone goes aigoo!

Jin goes waaaa and pushes the bangs out of his eyes using the hem of his tee.

Namjoon's deep voice from the left, to Hoseok you're like a typhoon. With two fingers he does a whirlwind motion accompanied by a whooshwhoosh!

A warm hand on Tae's left shoulder.

Hoseok's face above his: peach-colored lips from a creamy lip balm that makes his cupid's bow all shiny and well-contoured; lashes so fine it looks like they were drawn on with the lightest of mechanical pencils; a black string necklace around his neck with its dove pendant swinging all silver and weightless above Tae's face.

Bits of neon lights weave themselves into Hoseok's hair and beam on the smooth line of neck and shoulder. In the big mirrors: Yoongi scratching an itch on his right elbow, Jimin blowing into his loose tanktop cause midday summer heat, Jin making fun of Namjoon's dancing skills, Jungkook snacking with his nose all scrunched up.

The room smells like Yoongi's raspberry handcream, the detergent they all wash their clothes with, a faint trace of cigarette smoke from the all-black wearing dance instructors, and youth. From above him, Hoseok smells like fresh fabric and sun-kissed jeans and for the first time ever, looking into his eyes makes Tae's heart go a little faster, a little rougher.

Hoseok's soft bony fingers on Tae's face, checking for injuries. Hurts somewhere?

Yoongi you probably knocked some of his molars out.

Jimin ah you make it sound like he has like ninety nine of those.

Namjoon still alive there, Tae?

Jin no, he's freshly deceased.

Tae shakes his head at Hoseok, bangs flying all over the place.

Sorry Hoseok says all small and smiley, music makes my mind go poooof! I lose track of everything. My arms turn into windmills.

He tries grabbing Tae's hands but gets handfuls of red and purple striped sleeves instead. Tae huffs out a laugh through his nose and squeezes Hoseok's hands through the fabric. His jaw aches. So does the side of his face. But it doesn't matter, not now.

*

The second time it's part of a game.

It's past midnight and they're playing the 키스 또는 히트 game. You're supposed to spin a bottle aka truth or dare style: the cap points to you and you get to decide if you smack the receiving end across the wrist or give 'em a kiss. They didn't have a bottle and trying to spin Namjoon's yellow slipper was a fail so they went for Jungkook's pumpkin spooks special Halloween edition lip smacker instead.

They're sitting out in the hallway where all the lights are out for the night. They have Jin's scented candle crackling all soft on one of the mint green plastic waiting chairs

(jin, all eyes:

What if we set off the fire alarm

Yoongi what, with that candle. Ha. Goodluck with that. Weak flame. Plus this building's so old, half the shit here don't work.)

--and like four empty bags of banana chips just lying everywhere and their phone screens are sending fuzzy columns of light towards the low ceiling. The darkness has everyone all giddy and alert and shushing eachother cause they're laughing too hard.

So far it's been a whole lot of wrist smacking, but also a whole lot of kissing and Jungkook's lip balm doesn't only serve as the pointer in the game it's also being passed around for extra softness and sweetness and everyone's lips taste like pumpkin and spice.

Sitting in a circle with shadows under their eyes and flickering orange candle light fluttering in their irises, all seven of them play the night away.

Jimin smooched Namjoon. Slipped on a chips bag while crawling on all fours to get to Yoongi and rolled on the floor laughing for five minutes straight till he was clutching his belly and going all red in the face.

Jungkook smacked Jin's wrist so hard the slapping sound bounced off the walls like an outta control rubber ball

(Jin, gawking at literally everyone did you see what he just--

Jungkook smiled extra wide and his teeth shone almost translucent in the dark)

Yoongi gave an ok to kissing Hoseok but when it was time for him to actually do it he whined

Aish I'm so sleepy and hugged his backpack and put his chin on it and Hoseok wah how lazy can one be took the whole kissing thing on himself and planted a quick one on the left side of Yoongi's mouth to which Yoongi hasn't objected and which made the tips of his ears turn a little red.

When the lip smacker's end ends up pointing to him, Tae hugs his knees a little bit tighter and looks up from behind a curtain of freshly cut and dyed bangs. First time it points to him tonight. Moving his toes inside his red Doc Martens, he blinks around, the sudden silence all around him sticking to his lashes like glue. Six pairs of eyes stare at him in the dark. The hallway smells like pumpkin and grape gum, shampoo and warm skin and past midnight draft.

The cap of the lip smacker pointing to him, Hoseok looks at Tae with a twinkle in his eye, hugging one knee, colorful bead bracelet hanging off his right wrist.

Jin and Namjoon exchange insinuating glances.

Jungkook looks from Tae to Hoseok and back again with his mouth open, curious.

Yoongi says all deadpan kiss is bliss.

Jimin bites his knuckles on a smile.

The dark closes in on him and his heart beats all muffled under his baggy black shirt.

Hoseok looks at him all soft and insecure, pushing the blue and purple beads around, mustering the courage to crawl across the light-orange tiles and weave his fingers into Tae's hair and really gentle press his lips to his.

Tae swallows hard. Blinks down at the tiles without looking up again.

When Hoseok pushes his hair behind his ears and goes on his knees to head his way, Tae lifts up his sleeve and exposes his wrist.

Hoseok kinda freezes on the spot, smile faltering, fingers of one hand splayed out on the floor while those of the other running up and down his thigh, scratching lightly and crumpling the denim.

Whoa Jin says.

Nibbling on his bag's zipper, Yoongi goes hello there tough guy.

Jungkook scrunches his nose plot twist!

You sure? Hoseok asks, whisper the same tone as the smoke curling upwards from the candleflame's belly.

Tae sucks his lips in. Nods. Offers Hoseok his wrist, veins up, making a fist.

Hoseok doen't wanna do it but those are the rules. Setting himself on his knees infront of Tae, he helps him push the sleeve up higher, then grabs his wrist.

He hits with two fingers.

Jimin flinches for Tae when Tae doesn't even blink.  

*

Third time it's playful.

First time they kiss, it's in a street corner in Singapore.

They sky is bluish-grey and short sleeved dress shirts are flailing really faint on the clotheslines overhead. It's funny because with all that bright afternoon glow, the clothesline themselves seem to disappear and if you look up from the street below, all you can see is a mess of shirts and light jackets tossed everywhere amongst the puffy weightless clouds, a senseless scene from a futuristic painting.

The roads are packed with carts full of oranges and apples and chubby rough-skinned pears. Everywhere you look it's food booths with noodles and saucy meats and steamed rice that smells like the ocean and stings your tongue with delicious saltiness. It's flowery parasols that fly open like a flock of birds reaching for the sun; it's girls in dresses and women in sandals that let out a soft squishy sound when the heel leaves the ground. It's lanterns as big as pumpkins filled with light that birds flutter by with a song. It's shop signs with Chinese lettering that Hoseok, during their stroll earlier, used to point to and attempt to read

(what Hoseok said when he spotted Tae giving a little smile after he read aloud a bookshop name.

Tae gave a shy shrug just love the way you make the 'sh' sound when you speak Chinese. I love the way it sounds.)

It's turquoise-painted doors and wind chimes that ring out so delicate it tingles down your spine.

And it's Hoseok's soft hot mouth on his when the wind comes from the left knocking a few shutters closed and billows their shirts and sends their bangs flying into their eyes. Tae's holding a half empty pink glass bottle of fizzy sweet blueberry soda and the straw pushes between his ring and middle finger. His left hand, Hoseok holds between their bodies, almost hidden by the fabrics of their shirts.

It's summer and they're on their first Asia tour and the street smells like oranges and Hoseok presses his forehead against Tae's temple, lashes fanning across Tae's cheekbone.

I'm seeing stars Tae kinda whispers. He's not trying to be funny, it's actually what it feels like, but Hoseok laughs all bubbly and weightless.

He smacks Tae's shoulder, suddenly shy and self aware.

*

Fourth time, it's emotion.

Hoseok slaps Tae hard. The sound rings out across the empty stage like a clap of thunder.

They had just finished rehearsal and almost all the lights are out. Tiny grains of dust float in the air like fireflies. Behind Tae, a giant screen shows chunks of silver glitter falling and falling and falling, endlessly, the loop invisible.

Tae touches his ring finger to his lip. The corner of his mouth is bleeding.

Tae kissed another boy. He wanted to. The love Hoseok gives, he feels like he doesn't deserve. Never has. Never will.

He looks at the smear of blood on his finger. Winces with the stinging tear in his lip. 

This, he deserves.

[radreactions]

I have a Christmas ask! It might be a lot of work but it would be fun to write. Companions and Sole have a secret Santa party: who gives who what gift?

So this is the super mega fluff piece I was ready and waiting to giftyou all with on Christmas Day, probably went a little overboard but nevertheless here ya go! :D

It was the night of Christmas,when everyone had full bellies and cheerful smiles on their faces as theygathered in front of the large Christmas tree decorated with innumerable shinytrinkets. Curie was just finishing up in the kitchen, little tinks and clankssounding from where she was hurriedly cleaning and returning cooking utensilsto their rightful positions. She was meticulous like that, almost as much ashow purposeful each little decoration on the tree and the walls and ceiling ofSole’s old house was placed thanks to MacCready and Danse – an unlikely team,sure, but what a beautiful job they did.

Tinsel and candy canesscavenged from the wasteland hung tastefully across the barren plains of theceiling above, covering up the holes and watermarks from two hundred years ofneglect. Red stockings hung on the walls, the names of their owners lovingly sewninto them by Curie in her distinctly cursive font. Piles of presents awaitedand taunted under the green branches of the Christmas tree that both Longfellowand Gage – yet another unlikely team – had managed to hunt down on one theirmany escapades together.

Each companion wore their ownChristmas cheer in varying ways and manyvarying colours; like green elf hats and plastic pointy ears like Mac whosomehow talked Cait into wearing a hat too, Danse who wore a Santa hat thatmost certainly did not match his jeans and plaid t-shirt the way the hat on topof Piper’s head matched her usual red trench coat. Even Strong made an effort by fashioning a large candy cane to take theplace of his usual old rotten club because none of the hats could fit hismassive noggin. In the sea of greens and reds and whites, the Sole Survivorstood out in their bright blue vault suit who moved into the centre of thegathered mass of comrades wearing a large grin and Santa hat atop their ownhead, Dogmeat happily trailing behind them in his little Rudolph costume thatdemanded attention and cuddles everywhere he went. Soon enough, all eyes in theroom turned to Sole who effortlessly picked up little Shaun and cradled him totheir side when he excitedly asked: “Is it time? Is it finally time?”

“Yes, son, it is.” Sole smiledand squeezed him closer. They looked around at their friends, people whothey’ve fought side by side with for life and death and through thick and thin,and realised just how grateful and lucky they were to be celebrating ChristmasDay with each and every single one of them. “Present time!” A cacophony ofcheers and bottle clinking and happy laughter filled the warm air all aroundthem then, the happy peal of excited laughter from both Nat and Duncan addingto the cheers as they rushed from the kitchen with treats in their hands and aguilty looking Curie trailing behind, barely managing to fit all that candy inthe pockets of her apron.

Sole sat down with Shaun intheir lap in the plump red cushioned chair in the corner of their living room,the Christmas tree which was lit with hundreds of little lights standing proudwhere their old television set once stood all those years ago. But nostalgiawas unwelcomed in a time like this, nor was it in the forefront of Sole’s mindas they got to handing out the first of the dozens of delicately wrapped gifts.“Oooh, little Duncan is first!” Sole grinned, retrieving the package andcarefully passing it on to the little guy who sat upon his daddy’s knee andgiggled happily.

“Thank you!” He almost sung inthat sweet kiddie octave all toddlers seem to have. He read the label in brokenEnglish, Mac grinning from ear to ear as he listened to his son work out justwho it was from. “Th-thank you daddy!”

“Welcome, little man. MerryChristmas.” He said back, cuddling him closer as the little guy ripped it openwithout hesitating. There was a moment of stunned silence when Duncan realisedwhat it was, his little eyes going wide and his mouth popping open with anexcited little gasp that had everyone in the room grinning from ear to ear too.“It’s a Nuka Truck!” MacCready exclaimed excitedly for him which inspired fromthe little guy a happy, uncontrollable giggle as he hugged his present tightlyto his little chest. It might have been the light from the innumerable bulbshanging from the Christmas tree, but it looked like Mac had a few tears in hiseyes as his son turned and hugged him tighter than he hugged his present. Natwas next who damn near tackled Piper from the force of her hug because thereporter had somehow managed to track down for her little sister – clearly abudding artist – an entire crate filled with little easels, colouring books,pens, pencils, crayons and even a few tubs of glitter glue. Shaun was next,whose present awaited him under a tarp just outside in the garage. When Soleunveiled it for him, whipping the tarp away like a magician would a cape, Shaunlet out an excited squeal of joy because under it was a massive pile ofrobotics and the bare metaphorical bones of what once was a Mr Handy robot. Noone noticed Codsworth cringe, because Shaun had rushed to Sole and engulfed hisgrinning parent in a near bone crushing hug because that was exactly what he wanted! Hundreds ofhours of tinkering and problem solving and betteringsomething that he’s built with his own two hands, the apt stimuli someone ofhis intelligence needed to keep himself occupied during the time Sole was awayfrom home.

Finally, with all the childrenoccupied with their presents, giggling and talking to each other happily in thecorner of Sole’s living room while the sound of clinking metal from Shaunechoed quietly from outside, Sole and their dearest friends began handing outpresents to each other. Mac, Preston, Curie and Cait were seated on the couch,with Danse, Hancock, Gage and Deacon on the stools at the kitchen island. X6,Longfellow and Nick were standing off in the corner, sharing small talk like a groupof old ladies as Strong focused on not putting his head through the ceilingfrom where he stood next to Ada behind the lounge. Dogmeat lay at Sole’s feet,now and then nuzzling their leg for pats and cuddles as Codsworth hovereddutifully at Sole’s side. Piper – who was seated on a chair opposite Sole withthe tree between them – had set up two months before how it all would work,with each companion – including Sole – drawing from the bag a name of which noone else was allowed to know. Not even sheknew who got who, although she hadsecretly been working it all out in her head. Each present had a name and thena ‘from Santa’ tag underneath, the handwriting a clue on its own as to who itwas from.

Danse was the first of themall to get his present, who would have been mortified to learn that his cheekshad taken on a shade of bright pink when Sole handed him the neatly wrappedparcel with a grin and a wink, its size and weight befuddling the Paladin for amoment before he tore away the wrapper and stifled a sharp gasp. “Holy Go- a plasma rifle?” The normally stoic man’sreaction elicited a few laughs from his comrades who watched with smiles as heturned the rifle over and inspected it closely, a look of awe plastered acrosshis face as he studied the extensive modifications. “Who got me this?”

“Uh uh, that’s not how Secret Santa works, my friend.” Hancocksaid, clapping the bigger man’s shoulder with a grin. Nick and Piper shared aknowing glance with cheeky smirks, they had both figured out it was from Solebecause that handwriting was just tooperfect to be from anyone else. Danse shook his head slowly, testing out thegrip on the weapon before chuckling to himself.

“Whoever you are, thank you.”

Without further ado, Solepicked up another present and read the label. “Oooh, little Miss Curie is next!”The little synth smiled and blushed, accepting the present Sole handed over toher with barely contained excitement. Her delicate fingers deftly undid thewrapping, almost as though she was too polite to tear away the wrapping thatsomeone had carefully done for her. When she saw what it was, she gasped andcovered her mouth, tears springing to her eyes as she removed it from thewrapping. Or rather them because herpresent was a pair of beautifully crafted sequin dresses – one a midnight blackwith golden embroidery, the other a bright sky blue with weaved in patterns anda matching gold broch – which Curie hugged closely to her chest. “My eyes, theyare malfunctioning again! I am notsad, just….happy! Yes! Thank you monsieur Santa Claus.”

This one was easy to figureout and almost had Piper giggling when she met gazes with Curie’s Secret Santa.Preston was at a loss as to what he should get his person and wasn’t asdiscreet as he was obviously tryingto be when he was gathering information on what Curie liked. From across theroom, the Minuteman blushed and pulled the brim of his hat lower with aheartfelt smile.

It was Strong’s turn next whowas getting restless from where he stood, Sole hefting the large package overto the big guy with Nick’s help. Surprisingly the super mutant was rathergentle in how he unwrapped it and when he saw what it was, the biggest, mostterrifying grin split across his face. “Strong will be even more unstoppablewith this!” It was a rocket boosted puncturing super sledge that had everyhuman in the room internally cringing at the mere sight of it. Someone braveenough to give the big guy that andsneaky enough to haul that thing in without anyone seeing it beforehand meanshis Secret Santa must have been none other than Deacon himself, who was justbeing handed his own present.

“Aw, and here I was hoping fora Deathclaw named Fluffy,” He jokingly said, tearing open the wrapping and then– to everyone’s surprise – bursting out into full belly laughter. It really was a Deathclaw, only the homemadeplushy kind that clearly would’ve taken hours and hours of intricate stitchingto have it looking as good as it did. There was even a little collar around itsneck with ‘Fluffy’ engraved in it. “Thank you Secret Santa.” Deacon chuckled, lookingaround the room like he didn’t already know who it was from. Only one personcould’ve done something like that and that was little Miss Curie who was stillhugging her dresses tightly and smiling it up big.

Codsworth was next whoreceived a mint condition black gentleman’s top hat from Ada who Piper musthave forgotten to explain the rules of Secret Santa to, because she hadapparently approached Codsworth a week before asking outright what he’d likefor Christmas. It was a heart-warming exchange between the two robots, one thatleft pretty much everyone in the room shipping them hard because it turns out Codsworth was also Ada’s Secret Santa too and had somehow gotten her a state of theart pre-war internal processor that – according to the Mr Handy – could putbrand new Sentry Bots to shame. Despite the robotic cadence to their voices itwas hard not to grin at their little exchangebecause genuine sincerity practically dripped from them both.

MacCready – who apparentlyhated receiving presents yet still managed to giggle a little when he washanded his own – unwrapped the neat parcel to find a sizeable stack of intact,unburnt Grognak the Barbarian comic books all the way from issue #1 to issue#21 along with a 1/6 scale Silver Shroud action figure. The slight tug of asmirk on Nick’s lips suggested the Detective had certainly done his homeworkbecause it seemed like it was either raining a little inside or the mercactually had tears in his eyes.

“Mr Gage, get on over here.”Sole grinned, handing the raider a chest sized package he was already grinningat. He dipped his chin as thanks and tore open the…wait…is that PublickOccurrences newspaper??? Piper didn’t have time to figure it out becauseshe was already laughing at the look on Gage’s face along with everyone elsewhen he pulled out from the pile of caps within the chest a pre-war nude pinupmagazine that actually had him blushing underthat eyepatch of his. The cheeky laugh from Cait confirmed Piper’s hunch bothabout the identity of Gage’s Secret Santa andif his present was wrapped in perfectly good news articles. She never got madabout it though, especially not with Sole placing a present upon Piper’s lapwith a wink.

It was a light present, oneshe had to be careful opening but when she did and when she saw what it was,she let out a squeal of excitement. “ChocoPuffs?!” These things were amazingand so damn limited that the only way she could ever her hands on a packet ofthese was to damn near bargain her ass off to one of the caravans from DC.Chocolate anything was so hard tocome by and to have not one, or two but threefull boxes of the stuff? Piper could’ve cried. Hell, if she were in any lesscontrol of herself, she would’ve hugged the crap out of MacCready because hewould know where to find these things.

As Piper was struggling not totear into a packet right away, Sole placed a present into Old Longfellow’shands who affectionately clapped their shoulder with a happy smile beforeripping away the wrapping on his gift. What looked like a normal bottle ofwhisky to everyone else seemed to have some special meaning to the old hunterbecause his face lit up like the Christmas tree that took centre stage in thatvery room he stood in. Knowing how much he loves just about any kind ofalcohol, this one must be that much more special considering how carefully heheld it. “I don’t know how which one o’ you got me something like this, but thelast time I drank one of these was the same night I became a man.” He smileddevilishly, giving away a hint at how he used to be a strapping young lad sometime ago. “But thank you.”

Piper’s eyes flicked toHancock who seemed mighty pleased with his handiwork before Sole got hisattention and handed him his very own gift. He gasped dramatically, chucklingwhen he pulled out bottle after bottle of various types of chems that wereclearly homemade and most definitely of the purest kind. “I always knew Santawas a guy I’d get along well with.” He grinned, oblivious to the fact that hisSanta was tall, green, wielding a super sledge and giving little Curie athankful look presumably for helping him out. Preston was next who wasabsolutely thrilled with his gift – a small collection of Minutemen memorabiliafrom way back when they first started out, like, literally when they first began in 1645. The shining medals, belt bucklesand engraved coins seemed to bring a few tears to Preston’s eyes and didn’tseem to notice that Danse suspiciously didn’t look up from his new plasmarifle, trying to hide his devious smile as Preston was rendered practicallyspeechless behind him.

With a soft laugh, Sole movedon and passed over to Cait a neatly wrapped bundle. The brawler wasted no timein unwrapping it and paused when she saw what was inside. “Ya didn’t…” she whisperedto no one in particular, lifting the item up so she could see it better. A pairof shining black leather knee high boots lifted from the box in her hands and thebrawler stared in stunned awe. “Ohh ya fuckin’ did. Jesus. Holy shite.” The leather,the shining black that seemed to captivate the brawler left little doubt as towho it was from, particularly when he wore a slight, satisfied smirk and a coatmade out of the exact same material. The one and only X6-88.

As the Courser was handed hisown present, Piper hid her anticipatory smile behind her gloved hand and waitedfor the synth to finish unwrapping it. She only wished he had his ever presentsunglasses off so she could see hisfull expression.

“Holy shit.” He murmured,withdrawing from the neat box an almost antiquated Dan Wesson 715 revolver thatshined like it was made the day before. Piper’s arm still hurt from how much she polished the damn thing. “I don’t knowhow anyone knew I had an affinity for these, but thank you.” Oh Piper knewalright, when she clued onto just how much time X6 spent in the armoury withproper ballistic weapons that is. It was strange to think that the Courserpreferred something other than bluelasers but she needed to get him something special for looking after Sole inthe boogieman’s lair, something otherthan a new pair of sunglasses like Deacon had suggested someone should get himonce before. Nick was next and it wasn’t really hard to guess who his presentwas from considering it was wrapped in official Nuka Cola holiday gift wrappingpaper, but nevertheless Nick played along and was left grinning, actually grinning from ear to ear when hediscovered several in shape vinyl records of pre-war love songs. It wasactually quite touching that they came from a raider.

Dogmeat was lucky last and wasgifted from Old Longfellow a buffet of various cooked meat and monster bonesthat would certainly keep the pup happy for a good long while. In fact, heleapt up into Sole’s lap while chewing heartily on a thick bone, his ownerloving stroking his fur with a content smile on their face. But the gift givingwas not done yet. Throughout the month of December, Piper and Nick had beenconspiring together about recreating a drive-in cinema – minus the cars ofcourse – and had even managed to construct one in Sanctuary without Sole’sknowledge and actually get a projector runningout of salvaged parts from Starlight Drive-In. It was a gift from all thecompanions to Sole and was all ready to go, but there was just one more thingthey needed to do.

With a shared, sneaky look, bothPiper and Nick stood from where they were seated and got everyone’s attentionbefore Piper’s voice sounded. “Blue, I think I speak for everyone when I say…” Hereyes flicked to something outside the window before she locked eyes with Blue,her lips curling up into a devious grin. “SNOWBALL FIGHT!”

Unknown to everyone elseexcept the detective and the reporter herself, Shaun, Nat and Duncan had snuckoutside and with a little ingenuity, concocted slingshots from which theypegged snowballs into the house upon the unsuspecting adults. Deacon and Gagelunged behind the kitchen island, Hancock ducked into the hallway to protecthis chems, Sole used Dogmeat as a shield from where they were pinned under himupon their chair and everyone else tore off outside to either join in or chaseafter the sneaky little devils whose laughter echoed up and down the streets ofSanctuary Hills, well and truly blanketing the snow covered town in Christmascheer once again.

[supermoneydesign]

coining

How to evaporate to the heavens / omnipresence

The coin unified matter and representation: precious disk and rounded number. This would allow the solid coin to slowly melt and even evaporate. To be not bread for broken bodies, but breath for broken souls. This is its story.

I. MINT

BANG was the sound of the hammer that marked my birth. The birth of me, metal disk with a price tag, and the epoch of symbolic value. I was born Turkish. Strong and handsome I must have looked, shining in the setting sun over a river in the lands of Lydia. My brilliant body, a water-stirred mix from silver and gold particles, revealed a relief in the light. This birthmark of smooth ridges on my face spelled out my name: 2k E. The mouths of those hands fortunate enough to behold me spoke my full name: Two Kilograms Electrolyte. It was undebatable who I was. It was tangible in my body. It was written on my skin. I am both what I am and what my name says. My value could by no one be mistaken. And it wasn’t. I was so reliable, swift and outspoken that I quickly unchained societies from their suppressive systems of trade. Gone were the days of barter. A bucket of milk for two dozen eggs? Fine, unless you only need four. The Egyptians would engrave “a credit for eight eggs” in their administration of stone tablets. A fine means of social control, to regulate those at the bottom of the pyramid. In following centuries your egg credit would be measured in Greek grains of salt, Roman cattle, Persian spices, or portable bars of precious metals. Trade with anyone! That is, only when people trust your scales. No, it was me who freed the many. Solidifying the abstract debt into the concrete number on my face. No need to remember what he owes you. Nor to make another engrave it. Nor to weigh any goods. My face showed my gravity. My beauty sealed my integrity. Any imposter would miss the finesse and traits to uphold sufficient similarity. Soon I was minted en masse. To give unbarred access to the good of mankind to any hand that beheld me. What is any power without the power to use the skills of others? It was me who brought it to the masses.

Just a bit too soon.

Hard times came. Evil times. Medieval times. People didn’t want me anymore. As the area for goods to circulate was confined to the few acres of the landowner, I was of no use.

I thought it was the end of me.

II. MELT

On an early spring morning a ray of sunshine caught my golden locks. I was in a dark space. Damp cool air. Smells of leather. Almost calming, if it weren’t for the cacophony of jingles caused by the rhythmic tremble. The only light source in the pouch was the hole torn in the escape. Two fingers took me. They were free, as was the fugitive hand to whom I was given, and the sensation of brightness that met my face. Casts and castles had started crumbling, and from an age long winter’s sleep I awakened. Yes, trade was reborn, and so was I. Yet I was not alone anymore. I was many. In every nation I had a different face. And it was when my different sides met, that I started to melt.

Some of my faces were deemed more desirable than others. People would give five en profile French kings for a single embossed English queen. Even though my silver body was equally massive in France and England. No longer it was my body that granted me value, but the eagerness of people to lay their hands on me. But desire is a fluid phenomenon. It comes and goes. And so my self-worth became the plaything of the glance of others. It was the superficiality of my face that gravitated attention. Even when I felt desired, it was less and less about my precious body and more and more a numbers game. I got packed, stacked, and counted. Not to spend, but to have. When people had too much of me, they locked me up cold and darkly behind thick steel walls with uncrackable locks. It was not me anymore who passed from hand to hand, but a mere paper note that granted access to me. I became a number on a bill stating how much the owner could get in return. Although he never did.

Again, I thought it was the end. But it was only the beginning of melting.

The portemonnaie never fully turned portefeuille. The wallet was still a purse. My metal may have lost its value, but not its shine. While big bills handled big numbers, I found a steady place between the global tectonic plates of currency. The crumbling cracks. The margin of manoeuvre. The precious of the poor. In other words, the glue of the everyday.

I took a dive for a wish. Freed a shopping cart. Made you a philanthropist. Caused a coin wave in the casino. Got a homeless human a tea. Thanked a waiter. Locked a winter coat in the opera.

But also. Fixed a camera to a stand. Flattened a chocolate wrapper. Nudged the guy to approach that girl. Spinned longer than a dime. Fooled the grandkid. Hid the hickey. Transformed into a souvenir. Revealed that she won a theme park ticket. Surprised a kid with the color of the gumball. Granted the condom in the loo.

I was lost. Missed. Found. And I made his day. I was the holiday memory. I was the birthday present.

A mundane friend. An intimate lover. A third hand, helping out when needed. The modern man was a moneyman, a coinman, a human-metal alloy.

How could human and I ever be separated, if not by the magnetic swipe of a piece of plastic.

III. MIST

The descent of my liquid body came with the ascent of a new society called cashless. What use is a coin when all value can be piled up to a single score? People got access passes to their scores. Wallets shrunk to the size of plastic. I became annoying. A beggar a relieve. My metal corpse remained a memory. Memories of grandparents. Of times when economies of metal functioned like mechanical motors and majestic machines. The rolling disk, the wheel of progress, the never-ending circle, had suddenly lost its materiality. I am no more disk from metal alloys, but mere lines and circles, zeroes and ones.

Only a symbol was left of me. But as a rocket that shook off its solid and liquid support engines as ballast. I’m so fast and high now, I don’t need a physical manifestation as a seductive shiny canvas for the projection of desire. Yes, the virtual is material too. But more like gas. CO2. More expansive, harder to grasp. Harder to see, feel, hold on to. And harder to contain, control, avoid. I am all around. Freed from my heavy body I travel the globe in instants. Past evaluations make future speculations. Constructed confidence inflates boundless bubbles. When the gold rush became a metaphor, I became more real than ever. I have become the milieu. You cannot point at me. I’m everywhere. I’m your language. Your thoughts. Your life goals. Still. Or even more. Like a game. High score. I am your score and your life. Only when you take your thumb to pay you see if I’m still there.

How long still?

I may resurrect in the Cloud. Bits and ideologies condense in small drops of cryptocurrencies. Coins from bits. Coins for bots. Or my gaseous state so light I may lift up high into space itself. The object of desire becomes nothing. Or nothingness. Negative space, negative desire. I don’t know if I die or rebirth. But it’s ok. Whether it will be space or the Cloud, I’ll be waiting in heaven.

[nickyfoxley]

Shopping Experience 🌙 Wish.com

After reading so much about it online and watching a few YouTube videos about people’s experiences with Wish.com, I decided to try it myself. Since I could not find many (valuable) reports from European buyers, I was very nervous about this...

Here’s what I ordered:

Fox Ring (0.95€ + 1€)

Charmander Crop Top (2€ + 1€)

Sailor Moon Pendant Necklace (1.90€ + 1€)

Sun & Moon Black Tank Top (5€ + 1€)

Pentagram with Goat Head Pendant (0.95€ + 1€)

Black Strap Skater Dress (5.70€ + 2€)

Waist Pouch (3€ + 1€)

Mobile Phone PopSocket (0.95€ + 1€)

Blender Sponge 4-Pack (2€ + 1€)

Black Bralette (1€ + 1€)

Everything was scheduled to arrive on November 3rd.

Sun & Moon Black Tank Top When I pulled it out of the package, the first thing I did was to smell it. I read a lot about the different items having a weird or very chemical scent. This one didn’t. I ordered in S which is the size I usually wear (that or XS) and it fits perfectly. It has a nice length and the print looks quite good so far.

Pentagram With Goat Head Pendant First, I was surprised that this one actually comes with the chain. Which is good, so I don’t have to get a separate one. The quality is nothing to really comment on. The pendant is really light, made of a very light metal. And for the price, you can not expect much more. Nice piece of fashion jewelry.

Sailor Moon Pendant Necklace This one’s also of a very light metal, while the “diamonds” seem to be mere plastic. But honestly, what could you expect for such a price? It looks exactly like on the picture and the stones are quite solidly implanted into the pendant.

Mobile Phone PopSocket Well, not much to say about this one. I ordered a plain black one and got a plain black one. It does exactly what it’s supposed to do. The glue point is very strong though. I miss-placed it first and then had to remove it very (!) carefully because otherwise it was tearing at the back cover of my phone.

Black Bralet I don’t have the biggest boobs, I know. However, the straps are aligned completely impossible. The nice criss-cross pattern from the pictures is pretty much not existent. The straps are so close together, that they basically just overlap. Then, there are these strange parts under the arms. They were supposed to be straps that kind of hug your boobs, but for that, they are completely misplaced, no matter how big your boobs are. Plus, the bralet is way shorter than on the photos. Worst of all though? The pads make rustling noises as if it’s made of plastic foil... Thumbs down!

Fox Ring I have been wearing this ring since it arrived and so far, I can confirm that it seemed to be as nickle free as it claims to be. Besides, it is so very cute and adjustable to a certain extend. I bought the smallest size and I can still wear it on my thumb, but I have quite slim fingers.

Charmander Crop Top I am loving it! When I pulled it out of the package it looked so small and whimsical, but it fits perfectly! The material is some shiny, smooth, stretchy fabric, that really hugs you, even though I think the cotton part is very very low. 

Waist Pouch This one is amazing. You need a belt to go along with it, but it’s a great substitute for carrying around a purse all the time! The material seems robust and the zippers and buttons durable.

Black Strap Skater Dress The most disappointing purchase yet. I ordered a small size and the skirt is still way too big and ill fitting. Plus, the straps are very whimsical and weak.

Blender Sponge 4-pack And the last item to arrive was a 4-pack of make-up and foundation blending sponges. I have never used one before (I’m a brush kind of girl), but they do what they are supposed to do. I just fear they are taking in a bit more product as my usual brushes do...

[renegade-girl-blog]

Just when you thought that I had gotten out of the habit of posting on Sundays, I reveal my trickery and unveil yet another non-40k model kit, perfectly capitalising on the 8th ed sort of anti hype. Today it’s the Kampfer Kai, which I can’t technically refer to as a master grade, since is a third party kit, meaning that it is flirting dangerously close to the illegal line, but since it is made by a Chinese company called Gogo, it is going to be around for ever. So unfortunately that means there is some explaining to do as to why I even bought this over the real master grade.

This right here is the official Kampfer, and visually this mobile suit is one of my all time favourites, which makes it a real shame that the kit is around 16 years old, and as all saw with GP01, master grades from that era do not have thigh swivels age gracefully. Naturally I was quite bummed about this, until I heard that there was a third party kit that was essentially an updated MG Kampfer, and after watching a few reviews I went for it!

But that is where the normal stuff ends, since this kit is in fact a plastic mold version of a resin upgrade set to be used with the Zaku 2 2.0 (which is a right class act, if I do say so), which means that this is a Frankenstein’s monster of recast official Bandai parts and new parts which are built onto bits of the frame, like the arms above, to make it into a Kampfer. Thew, did we all get that?

This has the bizarre side effect, as you will see later, that this is a massive model, and is far taller than the official version! Despite all this shady third party recast business, the kit is pretty solid, and the plastic quality is almost as good as the official stuff, albeit omitting perhaps a few health and safety regulations, being a little of the child murderingly sharp side in places, and it is the only kit where my hands hurt after each build session.

But enough prattling on about laws and other boring nonsense, finally we come to the assembled kit, and he is quite a looker! It retains all the key features of the Kampfer, whilst subtly changing up the proportions. In the fluff, the Kampfer is an assault suit, having very little armour so that it can go at ludicrous speeds and carry a frankly concerning number of weapons.

Posing it at this stage was interesting, since it holds together really well, except for the spacers in the waist area, which would pop off at the worst times. Fortunately, we don’t live in the alternate reality where glue is never invented, so once I had painted the area beneath, I could secure them.

One of the downsides of this kit is the weird colour separation, so despite having red pistons, the monoeye has no clear piece, and not all the thrusters have the Kampfer’s iconic yellow inside them, requiring them (like the ones of the foot) to be painted. The chain mine (yes that is a chain of explosives, why do you ask Mr Health Inspector?) is a totally different colour to the proper one, and although that does bug me, there is no way I could be bothered to repaint the entire thing, so I ended up compromising.

I decided to try out using a dry transfer on this kit, since the chest just looked too empty without the Zeon symbol sitting proud, which quickly turned into using three dry transfers to eventually get it right. For those (like me, I can’t lie) not in the know, a dry transfer is like a water slide decal, but you apply pressure to the reverse side to get it to stick, which is waaay easier said than done, as I learned.

In some areas, like the leg, the inner frame is incomplete, as the thigh armour is built straight into it, but that did have the plus side of it not being comprised of as many assemblies when it came time to top coat it.

Speaking of top coats, I used a gloss for the first time on this guy, since the theory that I learnt was that if the mobile suit looks like a super car, it should be shiny, and I think the Kampfer Kai more than qualifies for that bracket! It looks superb, and really sets it apart from the flat coat I use most kits, like the ol’ RX.

I think I am now addicted to painting little details! If I am allowed to be super un-modest, his torso area looks gorgeous with all the added colour, from the thrusters, to the gray of the chest, and the white stripe on the crest. Now I have to go back to being hard on my work, so, er, I could have followed through and repainted the whole of the underside of the foot gray. That sure told me.

Looking more at the paint job, very rarely do I go for a specific look, but this time I weathered the kit with the intent of this being the Kampfer. In the entire Gundam franchise, only one Kampfer is seen in one show, and it is super awesome, being built in secret in the middle of an enemy colony. Then it pops out to ruin everyone’s day and destroy the show’s Gundam (called the Gundam Alex, I am dead serious), only (spoilers or whatever) to be annihilated by the Alex in a very realistically anti-climactic way. Therefore, it never really gets that damaged, right up until it gets totaled, so I wanted my Kampfer to look relatively fresh, with only minor scuffs and very little mud on it.

As I was saying earlier, this thing is a monster! It is meant to be roughly the same height as the RX, both hailing from the One Year War era. However I don’t might too much, since later mobile suits in the UC timeline routinely are this big, so he won’t look out of place in my collection amongst them (oooh teasing for later posts!). The articulation, as you can see on the arm, really isn’t hindered at all in most places, even though he has a winter coat of armour over the original frame. There are a few issues, like the knock off fingers are a little finicky compared to the proper ones, and…

…the mono-eye gimmick. To remind you all, the Zaku had this sweet thing where the eye tracked from left to right with the head as you turn it. The Kampfer, being based on the same internal head design, retains this feature, but there is a small problem…

The eye moves the wrong way! This has the unintentionally sinister effect that it will always be looking at you, but there is not way to adjust it so that the eye moves properly. This isn’t too much of an issue, since you can lift up the head section to turn the head without the eye going all mental on you.

The chain mine is a nightmare to pose, as all the individual mines are only slipped on, and so will slide up an down the wire at will. On the plus side, that really is the most difficult thing in my life at the moment, so I guess it isn’t too bad!

As far as other acessories go, he also comes with a par of oddly tiny fists and holding hands (not pictured, good job me) for the two shotguns. Additionally, there are two bazookas that can be mounted on the back, but don’t have tabs on the handles so they can’t be held, a bracket to put a shotgun on his bum, and two rockets on the sides of the shins (also not pictured, I are professional). Somehow, this actually means the Kampfer is incomplete, since the proper kit also comes with a single beam saber so that he can ‘show people how to fight’ (references, yay!), but the Kai does not have one. Honestly, I think I will survive somehow.

And that is the Kampfer Kai! He is a mighty, beautiful looking mobile suit which I very pleased to own! Hopefully you all managed to endure the talkathon that was trying to explain exactly what it is! I already have next weeks item finished, so look forward to an almost guaranteed not going to be late post then! Thanks for attending Antagonists Anonymous!

Model Showcase – 1/100 Kampfer Kai Just when you thought that I had gotten out of the habit of posting on Sundays, I reveal my trickery and unveil yet another non-40k model kit, perfectly capitalising on the 8th ed sort of anti hype.

[dollsandnerds]

Yuri on Ice Project: Wigs - Part 1

Hello again! In the last post I outlined my plans for this project. For the first task, I decided to tackle Yuri’s “normal mode” wig. In this post I will be sharing a bit of the process, some tutorials I used, and the finished product!

This was my first time ever making a wig, and I have to say I learned a lot. It is time consuming and patience is key, but it is also a lot of fun. Anyone can do it!

Materials

Starting with the basics, for materials I decided to use bamboo fiber, rather than alpaca. This is partly because I have owned both, and I really like the ease of styling bamboo fiber (which is kind of like having a fur wig in some ways), and partly because it is much cheaper to buy, which is important when just starting out. I purchased my fiber on etsy from DivinityFibers, which I highly recommend. The quality of the fiber was excellent, and shipping was very fast.

I made the wig cap using mod podge and some neutral toned pantyhose I purchased at the dollar store. I also used mod podge to glue the hair wefts onto the wig cap. Make sure to buy the matte brand, not the shiny stuff! Other materials that are helpful to have: a towel (to wrap around your doll), plastic wrap (for protecting the doll head), tin foil (for the wefts), crappy brushes, tweezers, small sharp scissors, a wet cloth or paper towel for wiping hands and brush between uses, and heat styling tools (e.g. a hair straightener, curling iron or craft iron).

Process

I am going to link to some tutorials at the end in case anyone is interested in trying this themselves, as I did not take enough pictures to make this a full tutorial on its own.

Because I am new to wig making, I decided to make the fiber into wefts rather than glue them directly onto the wig cap. Although this is an extra step and adds time onto the project, I would highly recommend this method. In my opinion it reduces the amount of fiber lost, and is simply much easier to handle.

Almost every tutorial I read recommended cutting the fiber to the desired length before gluing to the wig cap. However, I decided against this because the pieces would just be too short to handle properly, and I wanted to cut the layers once the wig was fully completed and on the doll head.

I made the wig cap and a batch of wefts at the same time and left both to dry overnight. The next day, the real fun started!

The gluing begins! I started from the bottom and just worked my way up to the crest of the head. Then did the same from the front to the top until there were no more bold spots. I used the fold over method on the final layer of hair to hide the glue. Instead of doing a side or middle part, I decided to have all the hair coming forwards from the center of the head. 

Ah, the Cousin It stage...the gluing is all done and its time to cut the wig!

I used tiny embroidery scissors to cut the wig. It is important to cut “upwards” into the hair to get a feathered look. If you cut straight across, you will end up with ugly blunt ends! This is also the stage where I learned an important lesson - placing the wefts directly on top of each other is great for eliminating all possible bald spots, but it makes for a VERY thick wig! Look at all that poofy hair! I will definitely space out my wefts more for Victor’s wig. And probably invest in a razor to make cutting easier...

All cut and...it looks horrible!!! At this stage I was panicking a bit, wondering what monstrosity I had created and unleashed upon the world...

BUT WAIT!! Redemption! With wig making, heat styling (and a bit of water or hair putty on your fingers) makes all the difference. This is starting to look like Yuri!

After a bit of final trimming, I am pretty happy with the finished product!! I think it is likely I will remake this wig once Yuri’s head arrives to get a perfect fit, and to see if I can improve on the design a bit. But for now, its time to attempt Victor’s wig!

Tutorials

There are lots of tutorials out there for wig making, but here are some of the ones I found extremely helpful during this process:

If you are a member of Den of Angels, this is a fantastic thread to check out and follow: https://denofangels.com/threads/crafting-your-own-custom-angora-wig-a-tutorial.571784/

This youtube 4 part series is extremely easy to follow and helpful, and takes you through making the wig cap, wefts and gluing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHE7HaQeStU&t=3s

Also, @meanae​ here on tumblr has a fabulous wig tutorial that I found very helpful. I definitely recommend checking out their blog!

ON DECK

Victor’s wig!! I have already mostly finished gluing the wefts onto the wig cap, so this should be completed in the next few days.