#I say this as a trinket and doll collector | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brainrotallthewaydown1312 · 1 year ago

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I have so many. I'll just say some of my favorites, but know I have several others.

Books: i have several hundred books. most of them were bought used on severe discounts or gifted to me. I have a special interest in storytelling and media and this is the easiest one to physically collect. I am a fairly active reader, but mostly of ya and na fiction. i have a decent amount of those, but also a lot of non fiction about creative writing, science, and history. I also have classic lit, vintage books to be repaired and a handful of rare books I got from second hand stores that didn't notice their value. my most valuable ones are antique limited prints of Sherlock Holmes books. I'm very proud of my books.

I also have a sub collection of middle grade and children's pulp paperbacks. i have maybe 150 standalone single print middle grade novels. I haven't actually read any of them since middle school, but I still like them. as an extension on my thing with storytelling and media, I find children's media fascinating, especially stuff like pulp fiction that gets cranked out fast and often has a cult following. and I'm also working on collecting one of every book in the babysitters club, boxcar children, Nancy drew, Junie b Jones, and hardy boys, all in the original covers. I'm about half through the babysitters club and about a quarter through boxcar children. I have a lot more to go on the others. these ones make me happy because having a specific series that I know a lot about and am trying to have in full feels like the most "proper" collection I have. it's the kind of collecting that people think of when you say you're a collector.

stuffed animals: i have a lot of them. this is a less active collection because most of them are nostalgic items from my childhood and at this point I mostly only add ones I've made or ones that are notably unique or of a character I like. I have a whole corner dedicated to them with a stack of those stuffie hammocks.

this one also has a sub collection, which is more active: dolls. but not fashion dolls like Barbie or nice collectible porcelain dolls. vintage dolls. mostly cloth ones but a few classic baby doll. I have special interests in both fiber arts and in the history and mechanics of toy production, so i like looking at the construction and maintaining them so that they don't degrade and become creepy. although I do have a few that if I fully believed in ghosts, I would think they are haunted. that collection started when I inherited a bunch of dolls and also sewing materials when my great grandmother died. ever since then, I've been enamored with unique vintage and cloth dolls. its a slow growing collection but one of my favorites. and one I can talk your ear off about if you let me.

craft supplies: now this one is a functional collection. I have supplies for several different media of art, only a few of which I actively make things with regularly. the two biggest categories in this collection is my acrylic paints (which I don't use very often but regularly sort and check to make sure they aren't drying or molding) and my yarn stash (which I use in some capacity almost every day because crochet and fiber art is my main medium as an artist) this is not as classically a collection but it fits this definition and its something I spend a decent amount of time maintaining, so I'm counting it here.

writing prompts: this is a habit I picked up from an English teacher in middle school. little trinkets and pictures and quotes on scrap paper. everything from nice figurines to Polaroids to magazine ads to seashells to bottle caps to fortune cookie fortunes. think a grandma's souvenir and picture cabinet meets those crow scoop junk bins you see on tiktik. when I'm stuck on writing, I'll either look for something that sparks inspiration or I'll pull something at random. I keep it all together in one box and every few months, I'll sort through it and get rid of anything that is breaking or falling apart or that I just don't like anymore. I love this collection. and I love explaining it to people because that conversation often starts with "why the hell is this box full of both nice collectible ceramics and also literal garbage" and usually ends with "that's actually really cool"

again, I have several others but those are my favorites to talk about and show off. I love my collections so much

Because polls get the most engagement I’m making a poll lol

(For the sake of this poll: a collector is anyone who *currently has* a collection of things either physically or digitally that they intentionally acquired which can be grouped together)

Please please please please pleeeeeeeaaaaaaase tell me what you collect and optionally why!!!! (This is doubly true if your collection is related to a regulatory/“special” interest!!!!!!! That’s honestly the only reason I’m making this poll, I am begging youuuuuuuuuuu

Neurodivergent related tags are for reach as I know a lot of neurodiverse people are collectors. I do try my best not to clutter those tags, if anyone has an issue with it please tell me and I’ll remove them

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rolandopujol · 2 years ago

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“Hamburg Pickle On Top! Makes Your Heart Go Flippity Flop!" That classic slogan for Kewpee Hamburgers applies not only to the food but to the charming architecture at The Kewpee here in Lima, Ohio. On Tuesday, I made my second visit to this roadside treasure, and unlike my first in 2019, the restaurant was open and hopping at lunchtime. I found a corner booth and snapped pictures between taking bites of their iconic square burgers, theorized to be an inspiration for Wendy’s founder Dave Thomas. The very first Kewpee hamburger joint opened in Flint, Michigan, in 1923, called the Kewpee Hotel, making it one of the earliest fast-food chains, and the second oldest hamburger chain after White Castle. In 1928, husband-and-wife team Hoyt and Julia Wilson opened the Lima store, and their shop was so popular that in 1939, they constructed this stunning Art Moderne building clad in porcelain enamel here on 11 N. Elizabeth St. Kewpees once totaled over 400, but today, there are five locations left – one in Lansing, Michigan, another in Racine, Wisconsin, and three here in Lima (pronounced Lie-Ma). The ones in Lima, separate from the first two, are run by the Shutt family. The two other Kewpee restaurants in Lima are yellow mansard-roofed buildings. But the one you see here is the very picture of cuteness overload. Greeting us is cherubic Kewpee, inspired by the Kewpie dolls (note the different spelling) that were all the rage in the early 20th century and are still cherished by collectors. Kewpee has two siblings inside watching over things. Getting a clean shot of the facade was difficult, as the lunchtime drive-thru crowd meant an endless queue of cars on Elizabeth Street, but I stood there until I had my opening. Once upon a time, they offered curbside and drive-in service here. There was even a turntable for cars to exit the lot, which provided kids of all ages with a thrilling end to a tasty meal. These days, the turntable is gone, but very little else has changed, thank goodness. There's an old expression, “to win a Kewpie doll," meaning to win a trinket at, say, the state fair. But there's nothing cheap or insignificant about this Kewpee. ❤️ #retrologist #retrologist (at Kewpee Hamburgers) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cfurq6PLTat/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#retrologist

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sennamybeloved · 2 years ago

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// gift giving!

~ ship; mary-beth gaskill x fox (s/i)

~ word count; 980-ish

~ authors note; women..............i love women. also i'm sorry if arthur's dialogue feels unnatural, i did not put as much thought into his characterization as i did mary-beth's. also i did not and will not proofread so i cannot gauge the quality of this fic.

~ reblogs appreciated!

“Fox! Miss Fox!” They hear Mary-Beth calling from across the camp.

As they hear her footsteps approach, they finally put down the piece of wood they’ve been whittling for the past hour and turn around to face her. “Yes?”

Mary-Beth comes to a halt in front of them. She has an expression on her face that’s bright and warm, like sunshine, and she’s visibly excited over… something. Likely the thing she’s cupping in hands.

“I found somethin’ neat while I was in town! I thought you would like it…” she crouches down next to them. She slowly opens her hands, unveiling a small, semi-translucent purple crystal. From all of the books they’ve read, Fox can easily identify this stone as Amethyst, but… it’s quite rare to see it around here. In shops, in the ground, anywhere.

“Where did you get this?” They look up at Mary-Beth, wearing a slight-yet-genuine smile on their face.

“There was a vender sellin’ little trinkets and collectors items. He had a buncha cool stuff, but I’ve heard you talk about crystals a lot, so…”

Fox plucks the crystal from her open palm, holding it up to the light so they can inspect it. It’s as genuine as genuine can be… as far as they can tell.

“Mary, this is beautiful.” They muse, their smile widening. “Looks authentic, too. Fantastic find!”

She blooms under their praise, her cheeks reddening as she begins fidgeting with her hands. “I’m glad y’ like it, Fox.”

They admire it for a moment longer, before turning to face Mary-Beth with a tiny smirk playing on their lips. “How much do you think this would’ve cost?” They ask.

“20 bucks.” She answers simply. “I’d know—I paid for it.”

Fox’s eyes widen. “You paid for this? Oh, now I’m even more honored. First time I’ve ever seen you pay for something, I think.”

She laughs aloud; a beautiful sound, like the chiming of silver bells of a tune from an expensive opera piano. It makes their heart skip.

“Oh shush, you have too seen me pay for things!” She gives their arm a playful shove. “I just… prefer robbin’ over payin’. You do too. We all do!”

“Simmer down missy, I never said it was a bad thing.” Fox chuckles.

They finally decide to pocket the crystal, stowing it away where it’ll be safe and they don’t risk losing it. Until they can get it back to their tent, that is. They then shift their attention—and their unwavering gratitude—towards Mary-Beth, who sits on the grass beside them, staring up at them with glimmering forest green eyes.

The afternoon sun highlights every detail of her beautiful face, from her thick, almost doll-like eyelashes to her freckled face, from the slight curve of her nose to the fullness of her cheeks. She’s gorgeous. Oh, so gorgeous. It nearly takes Fox’s breath away.

After a long moment, they finally find their words: “Thank you, Mary.” They whisper, cupping her face and pressing a gentle kiss on the bridge of her nose.

She giggles sweetly, placing her hands over theirs and pressing their foreheads together. “It’s no problem at all, darling.”

They remain like that for a moment longer, nuzzling into each other as they bask in the moment… until they are (quite rudely) interrupted by a certain camp member's commentary.

“Good to see the lovebirds out and about.” Fox sighs and squeezes their eyes shut. Fucking Arthur.

“This is a private conversation, Morgan” They say to him, reluctantly pulling away from Mary-Beth’s touch so that they can get a better look at him.

“What’s so private about smoochin’ in the middle of camp?” He retaliates. Fox rolls their eyes.

“I guess not much, friend. Now could you leave us alone?” They snap back, and Arthur is quick to take the hint—as he usually is. I suppose that’s an upside to his nosey nature; when you tell him to piss off, he does.

Once he backs off, resuming his stroll around camp, Fox shifts their attention back to Mary-Beth. She doesn’t look at all bothered by the intrusion. As a matter of fact, she looks rather amused.

“Strange man, that one is.” Fox huffs.

“You’re a strange man too, Fox.” Mary-Beth replies, punctuating her words by pecking them on the lips. “Besides… perhaps Arthur was right. Maybe we should move this to one of our tents.”

They shrug. “Yeah, I guess. Any chores you should be doing right now?”

She shakes her head. “What about you?”

“Clearly not, since I’ve been carving a stick for the past however long. Till you showed up.”

With that, the pair rises to their feet. Mary-Beth takes Fox’s hand. Hers is much softer and more delicate than theirs, but they fit together so perfectly. They begin meandering towards her tent, attempting to avoid the prying eyes of camp members that may or may not need something from them.

Mary-Beth goes unchecked, but unfortunately, Fox catches Hosea’s eye. “Fox! Can you go help Arthur take care of the horses, please? I haven’t seen you up and moving all day.”

Fox lets out a loud and over-dramatic groan of annoyance. They just can’t have a moment without interruption today, can they? They reluctantly release their girlfriend’s hand, putting over to the horses, past Hosea, away from Mary-Beth’s tent.

“Love can wait, Fox. Life, however, cannot.” Hosea commentates. They reply with a small, agitated ‘mhm’ and little else.

“I’ll see you in a bit, Fox!” Mary-Beth calls out. They glance over their shoulder to see her waving exuberantly. “Don’t take too long!”

That makes them smile and pick up their pace. Yeah, they will see her in a bit… which should inspire them to move through this faster; more diligently. That way, they can get back to her faster, and they can resume where they had left off. Who knew romance could be such an effective motivator?

However, her newfound positivity is soon dulled by a familiar voice.

“Good ol’ Hosea.” Arthur says, walking past Fox with a bale of hay in his arms.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

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valiant-if · 2 years ago

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hiya! 5 and 8 please for the OC ask!

Hi, Anon! Thanks for the ask! Since you didn't specifiy any characters, I'll go ahead and answer these where they apply!

5 - Do they have any tattoos? If so what are they and do they have any special meaning?

Switch has a tattoo on her right earlobe. It signifies the rank she served in the Damiren Primacy before she became a mercenary. It looks very similar to a bar code or a brail-like pattern. (These tattoos are standard practice in the Damiren Primacy, where all citizens are required to serve in the military for a set number of minimum years.)

Zero has a few small tattoos - a lily on her left wrist, a star on her right ankle, a hummingbird on her left shoulder. Her tattoos don't have any special meaning; she just likes to get small tattoos that she thinks look pretty or cute.

Path has a single tattoo on his right earlobe and up his ear of some meandering vines and leaves. The tattoo holds no special meaning, but it's meant to cover up a different tattoo.

Hex has tattoo sleeves on both arms of various creatures as well as a tattoo on his torso of a snake. The tattoo sleeves are just of creatures he thinks look cool, but he got the snake tattoo to cover his top scars.

A2 has a simple tattoo of tallies on her left forearm. Every time she finishes a high-profile job, she gets another tally added to the group.

The other characters do not have tattoos either because they would prefer not to have them or because they have not yet felt the need to get one.

8 - Do they collect anything? If so what and why?

CAIT - Having no physical body of her own, she can't exactly collect things. The closest equivalent is movies. She watches (or perhaps reviews is a better word) a lot of old movies (of all genres) because she thinks it will help her better understand humans.

Anton - He used to collect ship scraps until he had what he needed to put together his own ship. Now I guess you could say he collects crew members. Maybe not on purpose, but he has a bit of a savior complex.

Switch - She would collect nesting dolls if she was in a position to hoard things like that, but she's a fairly practical person. The way she sees it, there's not a lot of space on a ship to be hoarding useless trinkets, so it's not something she'll do even if she wants to.

Zero - Zero is the resident tinkerer on the ship. She collects any parts she can get her hands on in order to upgrade the ship. She also collects scrap parts for the drone she's building.

Path - I guess you could say he collects money. He rarely spends his money on trivial things and instead sets his earnings aside in a savings, mostly for emergency use.

Kiran - Somewhere between Path and Switch, Kiran doesn't see the point in collecting trinkets while serving on a ship and so saves their earnings. If he ever sets down roots somewhere, Kiran would probably collect various types of puzzles.

Yulia - She's an astrobiologist because she's fascinated by alien life. She's bound by certain regulations enstated by Archon Systems, of course, but she collects whatever she can get away with from surveying uninhabited planets.

Hex - A collector of recipes? Hex likes to cook and is pretty good at it, so he enjoys learning new recipes when he visits new places.

A2 - Contracts. A2 is a bit of a workaholic. She does the job because she likes it, and doing the work is more appealing than anything she could ever buy with her earnings.

Thanks again for the ask! 😊

#character asks

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winterune · 5 years ago

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A Monochrome World

A Natsume Yuujinchou Fanfiction

Word count: 2097

Summary: Natsume finds a newly-opened antique store on his way home from school. Inside, he finds room filled with framed monochrome pictures.

A/N: @natsumeweek 2019 Day 1. Prompt: Color/Monochrome. Not edited or beta’d. I’ll probably post an edited version on AO3 and FFN later. Thanks for reading^^ (edit: I named my OC Seiji because that was the first name that came to me and I've always liked that name, but I just remembered that Matoba's name is Seiji and I'm too lazy to change my OC's name ^^; I'm sorry for that)

Read on AO3.

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On his way home from school, Natsume came across an antique store. An old looking store that looked as though it came right out of a book. He had never seen it before. Was it new? He remembered Sasada mentioning something like it a few days ago. She and Taki had immediately went to check it out later that day.

A middle-aged man was sweeping the pavement in front of him. He noticed Natsume then, and looked up, an affable smile on his face. “Would you like to take a look?” he asked. His hair was already graying and his eyes were warm. There was something in his features that seemed rather inviting so Natsume found himself unable to refuse.

The glass panes at the storefront showed all kinds of little ornaments, lamps, music boxes, and so on. From the outside, the store looked small. It seemed cluttered if you look at it through the glass panes, but when you entered, the room suddenly became spacious and Natsume had to wonder if it was a trick of the light.

He wasn’t the only one there. A woman was looking over set of teacups atop a wooden dresser. A couple students were standing near the back peering into what looked to be a little snow globe. Natsume walked through the aisles one by one and was fascinated by the things he found: small trinkets behind glass shelves, drawers and dressers that looked to be at least fifty years old, a couple old Japanese dolls and statues, and several globes nestled in the corner.

Suddenly, he came upon a room with a pretty chandelier hanging from the ceiling and framed pictures hung on the wall all around. Big ones, small ones. Some were propped on desks or end tables. These pictures were pretty old judging from their monochrome color. A photograph of a couple and their newborn child in front of a house. Another was of the town years ago, with people walking in the streets. A lone table sat at the center of the room with only a single old camera sitting on top of it.

Natsume picked up the camera. It looked really old and seemed fragile at the touch. The lens was a bit greasy and when he tried taking a photo, the shutter wouldn’t work.

Why would something broken like this be sold?

That’s when he noticed a slight movement in the corners of his eye. Natsume looked up, but there was no one else in the room. Weird, he thought. He was about to shift his gaze back on the camera when another movement caught his eye, and this time it came from in front of him. Nothing was there but a framed photo of what looked to be a bustling city street. He’d have ignored it if not for the people walking inside the photo.

Natsume’s jaw slackened and he almost lost his hold on the camera. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The people—they were really walking, and talking. The cars drove past the frame only to return from the other side a few moments later.

He glanced at the next photo: a family photo in a veranda of a traditional Japanese house. Except that after a while, the group broke apart. The children stood up and played around. The oldest went and disappeared inside the house. The mother called to her children before rushing inside, probably to prepare for the day. The father picked up a newspaper and sat on the veranda, smiling at his children before shifting his attention to the paper in his hands.

This was so weird. How could this happen? He looked down at the camera still in his hold. This fragile old thing?

The photo after that was of a waterfall in the forest. Nothing out of the ordinary, except that he could see the water falling down the cliff and the occasional sway of leaves. He waited a moment and a black bird took off into the sky from a nearby tree.

Without thinking, Natsume held out a hand toward the photo, wondering if he’d find a hidden world inside, only to feel glass meeting his touch. The cool sensation brought him back to his senses and he retracted his hand, just as a deep voice called out to him from the door.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The old man from the storefront stood on the doorway, his kind eyes boring into Natsume. Natsume hadn’t heard his approach. Granted, he had been too absorbed on the photographs to notice anything, but…something told him he shouldn’t take the old man lightly. His grip on the camera tightened and he took a step back, distancing himself—and the Book of Friends—from the man.

The store owner noticed it and his eyes widened ever so slightly. Then a wide smile graced his lips and he chuckled. “Please, do not be so alarmed. I mean you no harm,” he said. “My name is Seiji and I am the master of this abode.”

“Seiji-san?” Natsume repeated his name.

Seiji nodded. “Tell me, are you a relative of Reiko Natsume?”

Natsume blinked in surprise.

Seiji chuckled again. “No need to be surprised. The fact that you found this room by yourself is enough telltale of the power you possess. And the only human with such powers without any exorcist affiliation I know was Reiko.”

A youkai? was Natsume’s first thoughts, all the while wondering what this possible-youkai wanted from him—its name back, or the Book itself.

“And rest assured,” Seiji said as he entered the room and approached an end table, where a single framed photo stood. His eyes took on a faraway look as he gazed on the photograph there. “I am as much of a human as you.”

The words were already in his mouth but Natsume held them back, wondering how much he could trust this man. But Seiji knew Reiko and though his gut had told him to be wary, Natsume didn’t sense any malicious intent.

“You can see them?” he asked after a while.

Seiji looked up from the picture and met Natsume’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Are you an exorcist?”

“I am not. I am, let’s say, a collector. As you can see from my store, I deal with trinkets and ornaments, including magical ones.”

Natsume’s mouth was agape. “Are you telling me all those things you have there are youkai—”

“Heavens, no!” Seiji exclaimed. “They’re normal antiques. I store my other trinkets in another place such as this and only those with a certain level of spiritual power can see it. Such as yourself.” A smile, warm and kind.

From Seiji’s disposition, Natsume could tell the old man was sincere. If he’s not a youkai, there was a slim chance that he would know about the Book. What harm could telling him about Reiko do to Natsume?

“Reiko was my grandmother,” Natsume answered his previous question.

“Ah! So she made a family,” Seiji exclaimed in pure delight.

“But unfortunately, she has passed away.”

The light in Seiji’s eyes visibly dimmed, his shoulders sagging slightly, sorrow lining his features. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that,” his voice was a quiet murmur. He looked back at the picture on the table and picked it up, a wistful smile tugging on his lips. “I met her shortly in my youth and she left quite an impression on me. In fact,”—he looked up, a hand encompassing the entire room—“she was the one who came up with this idea.

“There was a youkai once who lived inside the camera. With every picture it took, it took away the people’s lives, trapping them inside the photographs it created. Not knowing about the youkai residing there, the camera became known to be cursed and that was when my father came upon it. He put it on sale in our store but no one wanted to buy it. A girl came by one day, and upon seeing the camera on sale, asked to have a look.

“I was in middle school back then and I wanted to get rid of the camera. To be honest, I was quite afraid of it. She came when I was minding the store by myself and I didn’t care to charge her when she asked for it. Curious, I followed her to a deserted place by the forest and I was surprised to see her tapping the thing and asking the youkai to come out. ‘I know you’re there,’ she’d said, as though coaxing a child to come out of hiding.

“She was carrying a baseball bat then, and if you think about, it was quite funny,” Seiji said, laughing under his breath. “Asking someone to come out with a baseball bat in hand, of course the youkai wouldn’t come out. So instead, she challenged it to a duel: that if it managed to capture her in its photograph in the next thirty seconds, it’d win, but if it failed, Reiko told it to write its name on a piece of paper and to leave the camera behind.

“I’d thought then how stupid the gamble was. Stupid…or brave. I thought of course the youkai would win and the girl would lose her life, especially when I saw how the camera started jumping and clicking by itself. But Reiko was fast and thirty seconds passed with the youkai not managing to capture Reiko in any of its shots.”

Seiji smiled at the framed picture in his hand. “Youkai are funny, aren’t they? For all their talk of immortality and power, they fell prey to the whims of a sixteen-year-old girl. And they are creatures of their words, so even despite any unfairness happening in a game, they would still abide by their promise. The youkai left after writing its name and Reiko picked up the camera.

“How mortified I was when she found out I had witnessed the whole thing. Reiko smiled at me when she gave me the camera back, and yet, I could not feel the energy she had had when she was challenging the youkai. She felt empty and resigned.

“She convinced me to take a picture of her. I was afraid, though I knew the youkai was gone. But there was nothing else we could experiment on, so I directed the camera at her and she smiled.

“When the picture came out and she didn’t disappear, I knew we had succeeded. But we noticed there was something different with it: Reiko in the picture was moving. She waved at us, walked around, jumped on a tree, danced. If we could hear anything happening in this monochrome world, I think we would have heard her laugh.”

Seiji finished his story and Natsume felt his throat closing up. The old man held out the frame in his hand and in it was that very same picture of Reiko, a girl his age whom he often saw whenever he returned a youkai’s name. Reiko was in her school uniform, a big silly grin plastered on her face, fingers held out to form a V sign. Then she laughed and she waved happily at them and twirled in her skirt before running around to jump on a tree and dangled off a branch.

Reiko looked happy.

“The youkai probably had resided in the camera for so long that some of its powers had been transferred to it,” Seiji went on. “So every time I take a picture of something, it’ll move. She told me I could make some business with it, but moving pictures are too much for normal people so instead I put it, and the pictures I’ve taken with it, on sale for the people who are in search for magical trinkets.

“Here,” Seiji handed the frame to Natsume. “For you. I wish I could have met her again.”

Natsume held the frame gently, his eyes refusing to leave Reiko’s smiling face. Seiji said Reiko’s gamble was stupid or brave, but it didn’t feel like that to him. Reiko gambled away her life, probably because she wanted to escape this world to live inside a virtual one. What would the world inside the photograph be like? Would everything be black and white? Would it be small and empty? Or would it be like a perfect copy of this world but you can go anywhere you please without anyone judging you?

“Thank you,” Natsume murmured quietly. Reiko was still smiling at him and Natsume found himself smiling back.

~ END ~

***

Thanks for reading! More of my Natsume Yuujinchou fic here.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsumeweek #natsume week #natsume fanfic #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my story #natsumeweek 2019

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anagentinwriting · 6 years ago

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To Catch a Thief - Part 1

Summary: Being an FBI field agent was your dream job but having been stuck behind a desk for most of your career you’ve almost given up. Fortunately, a series of robberies with minimal evidence forces you to assist a team in the field to help solve the case. But when the only thing left behind is a series of song lyrics, will you be able to find the perp? Or will the number of obstacles and lack of evidence keep you from solving the case?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 2,533

To Catch a Thief Masterlist / Main Masterlist

A/N: This is my first story I decided to post so hopefully, you'll stick with me till the end. Let me know what you think! Look forward to your comments!

You jolted awake hearing loud moans coming from the thin walls separating you and your neighbor's apartment. “You’re fucking kidding me.” Sitting up you glance at your alarm clock reading 2 AM. Does this guy ever take a night off? Better yet, doesn’t he ever get exhausted? You swear new strays come out of his apartment on a daily basis.

“Yes, Peter, yes!” A woman screamed from behind the wall.

Okay, that’s it, you couldn’t take it anymore. You tie on your robe and slip on your bunny slippers and march into the hallway to your neighbor's door. You start pounding on it, but no one answers.

“I know you’re in there, open up,” you shouted, pounding on the door again. Still, no answer! Are you fucking serious? You stood outside the door for a couple more minutes and continued pounding on his door.

“Open this fucking door, right now!”

You held your fist to the door once more when someone finally pulled the door open. Standing in the doorway was a muscular dude wearing only boxer briefs causing your eyes to linger.

“What seems to be the problem, miss?”

You lost your train of thought for a second, but then remembered what you were doing. You cleared your throat, “yes, I live on the other side of your bedroom wall. I wanted to check and see if you’re finished with your shenanigans because these walls aren’t exactly 'soundproof'?”

“Well,” he smirked down at his underwear, stepping further out of his doorway. “Yeah, we’re done. At least for the time being.” He crossed his arms, making his biceps seem larger than they appeared.

“Perfect!” you grumbled, turning around and marching to your door. You kept your lingering eyes focused in front of you, not wanted to give him the satisfaction of a second look.

“Hold on a second, I never caught your name?”

“I didn't throw it, Peter?”

“Wait, how did--” you shot a hard glare in his direction, “-- oh right,” he chuckled, nodding his head. “Have a good rest of morning, neighbor.”

You rolled your eyes closing the door. This was your first encounter with your womanizer neighbor and it probably wouldn’t be your last.

Walking into work at FBI New York City Field Office wearing your usual business suit with your gun holstered to your hip. It was going to be another day behind a desk. Every day, you hoped by some sheer miracle Special Agent-in-charge, Yondu Udonta, would notice your hard work and put you out in the field. You qualified as a field agent, but you wanted to work in the best division, which was Yondus. Unfortunately, his division only had openings for an analysts job, so you took it. You knew if you worked your ass off and showed Yondu what you could do, he would promote you. It's been about 3 years now and you were beginning to feel like he never would.

“What’s up hot shot? I have a story you are going to love,” Luis greeted as you walked up to the front desk.

Everyone knew Luis, both criminals, and law enforcement agents, and he knew everything going on with everybody. Everyone seemed to trust him because he had one of those faces. In fact, he went undercover to take down the Hydra drug cartel with two agents from upstate, Rogers and Barnes. Hydra made him steal ridiculous crap including smoothie machines; actually, it was two smoothie machines. Luis decided after bringing them down, he wanted a simple life of working behind the scenes and they let him.

“What is it? You and your girlfriend make up?” You asked with a grin spreading across your face.

“Nah chica, she’s moved out instead. But anyways, I stayed late last night, right. And I was in the break room cleaning out the coffee maker because you know I don't like it when the filter gets moldy, or when people use the same coffee grounds multiple times it tends to lose the caffeine value, right."

“Come on Luis, get to the point.”

“Sorry sorry...ah...so I started talking with Vis, who is kind of sorta dating that really stupid fine Sokovian girl that works the front desk upstate, right. He told me that she heard Special Agent Stark talking to Yondu, right, and here comes the best part. Stark says, ‘Yo so Gamora is working this big thieving case right.’ Remember that super badass chick that worked here when you first started.” You nodded. “So anyways Stark goes, ‘She’s working this big case, you know, and she's comin' back to the city and you should offer up some space to her.’ And then Yondu said, ‘Yeah you’re right, and maybe, I should pick out an agent here to help her out.’ Of course, I got to thinking right, so I asked Vis if his really stupid fine Sokovian girl told him to tell me to tell you that Yondu is considering picking you for the spot…”

“What did he say?”

“He said yes,” Luis grinned.

“LN, my office now,” Yondu yelled, standing in the doorway to his office. You nodded turning back to Luis with a slight grin on your face as you headed over to Special Agent Udonta office.

You took a seat on the opposite side of Yondu observing all the trinket and gadgets covering his desk. There were troll dolls, glass figurines, a bobblehead dog, and even a mickey mouse statue. You didn’t know he was a fan of Disney.

“Good morning, Agent LN. Did you hear anything about Gamora being back in town and how she is working this thieving case?" Yondu asked, putting his feet on his desk and reclining in his chair.

“Yes sir, I may have heard something.”

“Well, it just so happens I am picking one person from this division to assist her and I’m considering you. Would you be interested in an opportunity like this?”

“What does this case all entail?” You inquired, wanting to say yes right away, but didn’t want to come off too eager.

“You will be assisting Gamora and her partner, Kraglin, in finding out who is behind these thefts. I don’t know much about this investigation, but I do know it involves six rare and valuable necklaces. The thieves have stolen two while the other four still remain unaccounted for. And if you do well on this case, I may consider promoting you to a fulltime field agent.”

“I’m in. When do I start?” You nodded as excitement shot through you. You bit your cheek to hold back a smile. On the outside, you kept your emotions professional, but on the inside, you felt like a child on Christmas morning.

“You start immediately.”

You smiled walking out of Yondu’s office and up to the 3rd-floor conference room C. You pause outside the door wondering if you should knock or walk right in. You cracked the door open poking your head inside. “Hi, um, I’m Agent YN LN, Yondu sent me up here to assist on the case.”

“Perfect,” acknowledged the magenta ombre colored hair women. “I’m Gamora and he's Kraglin.” She pointed to the man working behind the computer.

“Hello,” he waved, staring up from his computer.

“So, what do I need to know?” You glanced over the documents, pictures, and books lying on the tables. There was a significant amount of information you needed to catch up on, but you were ready. This was what you always wanted to do, and now, it was your chance to prove yourself.

“We are trying to find the person or persons stealing the Infinity Stone Necklace Collection. As of right now, two of the six necklaces are missing with the latest occurring early this morning. It happened at Dr. Stephen Strange's residence on the upper east side of New York. We still don’t know how they pulled it off. There was no forced entry, no alarms triggered, and everything was as Strange left it before he went to work.

From an eyewitness at the scene, she believed the suspect to be a male in his late 20s or early 30s. She never saw his face, but he seemed athletic and strong since he was jumping over the backyard fences. We believe he has people helping him, since all we seem to have on him are these two sheets of paper with lyrics on them," Gamora informed you. She held up the two evidence bags containing the lyrics before handing them over.

#1: O-o-h child, things are gonna get easier

O-o-h child, things'll get brighter

Sorry, SL

#2: Don't stop thinking about tomorrow

Don't stop, it'll soon be here

It'll be here better than before

Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone

Sorry, SL

“Well, this first one is O-o-h Child by Five Stairsteps and the second one is Don’t Stop by Fleetwood. But, why is he apologizing for stealing these necklaces?”

“Wait, just from the lyrics you knew who the song and artists was. Nice work,” Gamora smirked in your direction. “We don’t know why he’s apologizing, but we suspect he’s either stealing these for a big payout or he’s toying with us.”

“Okay, but why sign SL? Are those his initials?”

“We thought so, but it was a dead end. The only name we came across with any connection to the necklaces was a guy named Stan Lee. Turns out he was an avid collector who admired them but never had the balls to actually steal them. Mr. Lee was in his late 80s to early 90s, so we ruled him out as a suspect. He did share a lot of information with us about these stones and it’s all here in these files. You will need to read through these to get a better understand of what we are looking for."

“Of course, but back to these song lyrics, are they special to him or linked to the necklaces somehow? It could tell us what necklace he’s going after next?” You queried, staring at the lyrics.

“See we thought the same, but there's no correlation between the songs and the necklaces,” Kraglin replied. “We thought it linked to SL’s personality, but he could've picked them at random, too. There are still many unanswered questions, but here is what we have on him so far." He walked over handing you a file.

“Male. Late 20s to early 30s. Likes classic rock and pop music,” you read. “Are you serious? This is it?”

“It’s hard to find someone when the only clues are song lyrics. Besides, profiling isn’t really my strong point,” Kraglin added with a sigh, walking back over to his computer.

“What about the first theft that happened at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, did we get anything there?” You asked, pointing at the bulletin board. There were five pictures of the necklaces and a blank white piece of paper with a question mark. Underneath the pictures were their last known location; Above the pictures were strange names including Space, Power, Aether, Time, Mind, and Soul.

“We didn't get anything besides the lyrics, but the necklace did get inspected once a week at the same time on the same day. We suspect our thief knew this because he knocked out the guard who usually takes care of the inspection. Unfortunately, he didn’t see anything and didn't even know what happened. We’re still going through security tapes, but so far nothing to show the necklace being monitored. But the thief did replace the necklace with a hologram similar to it, so we know he has some great tech. Right now, it’s a slow process with only two of us, which is why we are happy to have you on our team,” Gamora chimed in and you nodded.

“Do we know where the other four in the collection are?”

“Much like everything else around here, it’s a work in progress. We have a list of possible owners, but they all deny owning one. We assume with the necklaces being so rare and valuable the owners don’t want to risk people finding out and stealing them. Even the museums exhibiting the necklaces refrain from saying who owns them.”

“Someone is figuring it out and stealing them anyways,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Here’s everything you need to know, so head home and study.” Gamora hands you an evidence box. “There are books and files in here, so when you come back tomorrow we want to hear some new theories.”

“Wait...you want me to leave, but Yondu said--”

“Yondu isn’t in charge of you anymore so go home, study, and come back tomorrow. The more you learn about these necklaces the better because it will give you a bigger picture of what we are looking for. Besides, you have to prove your worth by putting in the work and we want to see if your worth bringing on this case.”

“Guess I’ll get to it.” You nodded, lifting the evidence box and grunting at how heavy it was. This was going to be a long trip back to your apartment.

Stepping through the doors to your apartment lobby struggling with the box, you see the doors to the elevator closing. “Hold the door please!” A hand stopped the door and inside was the man from last night. “Thanks,” you mumbled, and Peter nodded with a smile.

“You dress like your important,” Peter asserted with a lopsided smile.

“And you dress like a horny teenager,” you commented, rolling your eyes. Why was he even talking to you? It’s not like we have to talk because we are in an elevator together.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, YN.”

“Impressive, so you learned my name.” You set the box down on the floor in front of you to give your arms a short rest. For real, what did Gamora put in the box?

“I did. It’s on your mailbox and I have to say it suits you.” You shrugged, wishing he would stop talking to you. “What’s in the box?”

“A severed head,” you smirked, seeing him raise his eyebrows out of the corner of your eye. “But it’s mostly books. Something your girlfriend wouldn’t know anything about.”

“Oh, I don't have a girlfriend,” he smirked. “I prefer to not get attached to my lady friends.”

“Huh..that doesn't surprise me.”

The elevator doors opened and you picked up your box only to notice Peter holding the doors open for you. He may be a womanizing player, but it was nice to know he had some gentleman type traits. You nodded walking past him to your apartment. You set your box down to unlocked the door and glanced in Peter’s direction. He was standing by his door with his eyes wandering over you biting his lip.

“Did you want to be one of my lady friends... I mean since we're neighbors it could be convenient,” he winked, shooting you a smile.

“Uck. I would rather sleep with myself.” You stepped into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind you.

“So is that a firm no then,” Peter shouted from the hallway. “Well, I’ll still be here if you ever change your mind.”

#peter quill x reader #star-lord x reader #peter quill #peter quill fanficiton #marvel #marvel fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #peter quill au #star-lord au #star-lord #marvel fanfic #gamora #peter quill reader insert #marvel image #mcu #chris pratt #to catch a thief

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beedalee · 6 years ago

Photo

🎃 MG ADOPTS: Halloween 2018 on DeviantART!

Please click the read-more for information and availability status, or go to the deviantart link above! If you want to buy one via tumblr, please private message me, do not use asks or they may get lost! 💓

🎃 🌠 Adoptable Terms of Service 🌠 🎃

[Rules, info, prices, and availability under the cut!]

ALL HOMED, THANK YOU!

🌠 RULES/INFO:

Terminology: OPEN = available | #/# = number left on sheet | HOLD = 24/48 hour hold is active | PENDING = invoice sent | SOLD = adopted

First come, first serve! I will hold for 24 hours- My Paypal Invoices will expire after 24 hours after they are sent!

I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason! Please be polite when inquiring about buying a design.

You may buy the design as a gift for someone else, but you must tell me who the giftee is! Contact me via note if it’s a surprise!

If you don’t want your paypal or email publicly posted, you may NOTE me the order form instead!

Lace border credit: here!

🌠 PAYMENT:

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If you pay by e-check/directly via bank account, I will send the full res after the payment clears! Please leave sufficient funds in your bank for it to clear properly like a one would with a regular check. Read my ToS for more info!

You receive the full size un-watermarked transparent version of the design after payment has been received! Thank you!!

Temporary Limit: 1 DESIGN PER PERSON!

This includes via gifting! Limitation expires Saturday, November 3rd at 3:00pm mst

Gifting limit is 1 per buyer that hasn't already purchased one on this sheet! (Ex: Buyer 1 may purchase 'adopt A' for themselves and purchase 'adopt C' as a gift for Person 2 ONLY IF Person 2 has not bought one themselves. Giftees cannot buy a 2nd one during this limitation.) This post will be updated and watchers notified when this limit is over!

🎃 42.00 USD EACH (#9 is 48.00 USD) ALL HOMED! 🎃

Each design comes with little character blurbs written below, but you don't have to keep them! They don't have to be exclusively magical girls, either. Superheroes, supernatural creatures, unfortunate characters befalling a curse in a horror story- whatever you want! Feel free to change them to your liking. These are just fun prompts for me.

🎃 ROW 1 🎃 🎃 Sweet Succubus: S O L D ! A cute bubbly nerdy girl that's high on life and romance! She can be a bit of a crybaby, but bounces back fairly easily. She loves gaming, conventions, and cosplay, and she finds the <i>perfect</i> trinket to finish off a costume... but this is no ordinary trinket! Luckily for her (and her potential team), she LOVES magical girl anime and is quite genre savvy! Plus... her outfit is totally adorable! 🎃 Briar Bride: S O L D ! A simple maiden from times long past, befell a vampire's bite and unwillingly received the gift- and curse- of immortality. For centuries she sought to murder the vampire who turned her so she could meet death, but it proved fruitless. She soon took up a peculiar mantle.... A vampiric vigilantess, vampire hunter, and protector of other women, feeding on lechers and predators; protecting innocents like herself from other vampiric entities. She's a lonely soul whose heart has grown hard and brave through what she's endured. 🎃 Pumpkin Spice: S O L D! A peppy, mischievous gossip and tiny busybody, she seems to know everything about everybody all the time- but no one knows a thing about her! In truth, she's a spirit who crossed over on Hallow's Eve through a jack-o-lantern and took a human form to seek something important. Her powers are the strongest at night, and she keeps bad spirits away from younger children. She can guide lost people or lead people astray. She never, ever takes off her choker. 🎃 Row 2 🎃 🎃 Lucky Devil: S O L D ! After what was supposed to be a one-night-stand, this trouble-maker realizes the stranger he kissed yesterday was a prince from the underworld. Their wild night sealed a pact and granted him demonic powers, which he couldn't be more thrilled about. Now he's ready to wreak havoc on locals and get that thrill-seeking adrenaline rush he's always after. But contracts always have their fine print, and his demon prince has a task for him..

🎃 Shadowmancy: S O L D ! A quirky, slightly spooky nonbinary individual, with a gray alignment and hard-to-pin-down motives. They're playful but sort of unnerving, like they might turn on you at any moment, or say something really unsettling- maybe just to see you squirm. They are completely one with their magic, able to conjure shadowy illusions and slip in and out of shadows at will- even yours. Are they a villain, a rogue with a mysterious past, or an unexpected ally? 🎃 Doll Collector: S O L D ! A lonely aloof goth, she has a small circle of equally gothy friends into things like lolita, art, and doll collecting. Though she can seem intimidating and even rude, she's just quite shy and untrusting of most people, apprehensive of opening herself up to anyone that may be judgmental of her self expression. She comes upon a gorgeous doll, who immediately becomes her favorite- but that little lady turns out to be alive, from The World of Toys- and she's come to earth to find Toy Soldiers to help a war in her kingdom! Can they find the other Soldiers? 🎃 Row 3 🎃 🎃 Babydoll Banshee: S O L D ! A popular but ditzy prep, she's a starlet choir singer with endless circles of friends and a deep love for all things fashion, makeup, and socializing. She's your typical busybody teenage girl who thinks her life is all mapped out, from career to marriage- That is, of course, until some spooky circumstances happening at her school cause her to unlock a magical transformation into a beautiful, haunting ghost magical girl... and call her to action along with teenage strangers with similar powers! 🎃 Petite Velvet: S O L D ! A stoic japanese schoolgirl still in middle school. On the surface, she's sort of bratty and hard to make smile, so she doesn't have very many friends- though a handful seem persistent in trying. She highly prefers the company of dogs, attracting strays wherever she goes. For as long as she can remember, when the full moon comes out, she is drawn out into the night- endlessly seeking something, but not sure what it is. What is the howling in the distance she keeps hearing? Who's calling her? 🎃 Prim Stitches: [SPECIAL SET, $48.00] S O L D ! Two young, spoiled, curious kids from rich families discover a secret passageway in a large mansion during a massive party. Slipping away together, the two go down a rabbit hole and accidentally find themselves making a magical pact with a strange character that dwells deep under the mansion's surface, who calls themselves the Puppet Master... and uncover the mysteries of the crypt's origins and the unsettling history of their families.

🌠 ORDERING

You MUST include the order form in your comment or note, or you may miss out on the adoptable! If you’re on mobile you can just type it out if it’s easier. Here’s a breakdown of each entry:

do you agree to my ToS?: by writing “yes”, you agree to the terms and conditions listed in it, so be sure to read it!

payment method: paypal, DA points, bank or debit, credit card, etc!

email: either your paypal email or an active email i can send the paypal invoice to. If a family member or friend is paying on your behalf, you must state that here.

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is it a gift? optional, you don’t have to include this section if it’s just for you! if you want the recipient of this gift private, please note or private tumblr message me your order form instead!

🌠 ORDER FORM 🌠

do you agree to my ToS?: payment method: email: design name: is it a gift:

If you have a question please don’t hesitate to ask!!! I’ll do my best to help you out! 💓

#adopts #adoptables #halloween #magical girls #magical girl #beedalee art

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cursedvessels · 6 years ago

Note

Dolls, Failure, Mirrors && Insects

Fear-Themed Headcanon Questions

Dolls: Has your muse ever collected something?

Failure: Has your muse ever given up on an important dream?

Mirrors: What is your muse’s least favorite thing about their appearance?

Insects: Name something your muse finds gross or annoying.

Has your muse ever collected something?

I feel like Ambrose has sort of always been a collector of sorts, but not like of one specific thing. He just… COLLECTS. Posters, old newspapers, trinkets and things… Tea. Music. Some might say he’s a bit of a hoarder. I think, specifically, if he has one thing that he collects it’s… words. If that makes sense. I think he likes to take things he hears or reads or sees or is told by the voices in his head and he writes them down anywhere he can, whether it be on the walls of his prison cell or in a little notebook that he’s filled a hundred times over… His hands, his arms, his LEGS. His chest. Erm, wherever he can write it down, when it sticks with him he makes note of it.

Has your muse ever given up on an important dream?

I mean, I think any dream or idea he’s ever had has definitely been left in the dust. I feel like if he ever had a dream at the start of life, his father sort of crushed it and the people around him laughed at him for it. His whole life he’s been called a failure and a screw-up, so it’s not really his place to have dreams… I think the biggest thing he’s ever given up on is his potential to be a peacemaker. He was born with a chaotic heart that still desired to make people happy, to bring peace and help those who had passed on… Like he really, seriously cares for those trapped in the spirit world and in the end that care was what got him in the mess he’s in now, which is why he’s such an apathetic bastard all the time.

What is your muse’s least favorite thing about their appearance?

Hm… Well, actually, pretty much everything. He’s skinny as hell, pale, freckly, tall, dirty… Generally just looks like the junkie that he is. He would probably liken himself to the appearance of a corpse, though only to himself. I think his sense of fashion is pretty much the only thing that keeps him thinking he’s beautiful in any way. He acts like he has a much bigger head than he does… Most of all, he hates any part of him that resembles his father.

Name something your muse finds gross or annoying.

This is a hard one because I think most people just find HIM gross or annoying, so… Um.. I mean, I feel like he finds his own box pretty gross, the dead hands and whatnot. He’s not like… I think he’s used to dead things, but at the same time, he finds dead bodies to be pretty gross. He’s quick to say “ew,” but at the same time not very affected by gross things. Um… So, severed body parts for sure. Not insects because really anything alive he… finds mercy for and compassion for in some way or another. LIke he won’t kill bugs. Um… As far as annoying goes, rules. Definitely rules. And… anyone who… thinks they’re better than him. Because he’s always stuck in this constant position where he has to prove himself to everyone around him and I think that can get very old very quickly. So, I guess, also when people don’t believe him when he tells them he’s an all-powerful god of the Underworld.

#ooc #about ambrose #about muse #heartxshapedbruises #headcannons

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the-everfallen · 6 years ago

Note

🌀🌀🌀 for Aurātus AU

Writing Prompts (One Word Edition)

≪ Oh! Thank you for this! I’m assuming you’re the same anon who sent the last one, I’m really grateful for your asks! ♥ ≫

23. — oppression

14. — bitter

06. — wings

Azzan was a mysterious man, not simply because he introduced himself as an ‘alchemist’ but because there was mystery in his eyes; an unfathomable intelligence and insight that bore into everything he looked at. It made Ikaros feel exposed and set his teeth on edge, but this man was his ‘master’. Not only that, Azzan had saved him from a slavers den where every morning he received a beating for being a ‘problem child’.

It was only fair that Ikaros bury his animosity toward the unknown man and at least give him the benefit of the doubt until he no longer deserved it. But, as he sat in his quarters (which were several leagues above the flea-ridden hovel where the slavers had forced him to stay), his mind reflected on the journey to this secluded mansion.

“I am not overly fond of cities, so I chose to have my home far away from such noisy places,” Azzan had said as he gracefully exited the carriage that brought them out a ways into the desert and looked over his shoulder at his wary acquisition.

All Ikaros could think was the location also made it rather difficult to escape –– was it deliberate, or was this man truly a recluse?

Of more concern was Azzan’s remark about being ‘pleased’ to have found Ikaros again; apparently they had met previously in Athens and then this strange ‘alchemist’ had borne witness to Ikaros’ first day in the Slavers Market where he kicked up such a fuss that they never took him back. The idea that this esoteric man had remembered and sought him out was perplexing, a single question burned: Why?

What use could Azzan have of a young slave of Greek origin? He had no knowledge of magic, no prestige, no hidden wealth; nothing, so why go to the lengths of buying him and providing him with a comfortable room?

“Have you settled in?” Azzan asked as he walked into the room.

Ikaros looked up, startled, then his eyes narrowed into a glare, “Don’t you know to knock?” he muttered.

The alchemist arched an eyebrow and looked behind himself at the doorway, “The door was open,” he remarked, “If it had been closed, I would have knocked…” a slight smile crept over his lips, “It seems your fiery disposition is yet unblemished. I am glad.”

A fair point, about the door, but still Ikaros felt annoyed; he’d have to make sure to close the door behind him from now on just to test Azzan’s assurance that he would knock; not that he was under any obligation to do so, he was the ‘master’ after all, “…My ‘fiery disposition’? I don’t see how my temperate is of any use to you.”

“I do not recall saying it was of use to me,” Azzan replied, his sharp wit showing as he shot down the remark.

Ikaros clicked his tongue, “… Then why did you buy me? To use as some sort of punch bag? Or a doll to fuck? Or a victim for your alchemy?” the words were rich with vitriol, he had already experienced the first of those things at the hands of others. Why should Azzan be any different?

“Do not put me in the same league as those money-grubbing, mindless barbarians,” there was a sharpness to the alchemist’s voice, almost as if he were offended but not enough to lose his temper, “Perhaps when you ask me politely I will tell you. Maybe over dinner? It will be ready in an hour, I’ll expect you there on the hour.”

“Wait… who’s cooking dinner?”

“My servants,” Azzan replied as he neared the door.

“Then why am I here?!” Ikaros shouted at the other man’s retreating form.

“I told you, if you ask me politely at dinner I will tell you,” and without another word, the alchemist was gone. Ikaros threw himself back against his bed and growled in frustrating –– his presence made even less sense, but it exacerbated his sense of captivity; was he just here to be an exotic little trinket? Because he was a Greek?

Or was this man some sick collector? Did he like to buy up all the Greek slaves to keep as pets? Ikaros dragged a hand over his face and sighed heavily, there was no benefit to getting worked up like this. He would find out at dinner, maybe, why he was here.

His gaze drifted to a small window, covered by bars, and the vivid blue skies that lay beyond it. Never in all his life had he felt more like a bird with its wings clipped; his cage was pretty, but that was hardly any consolation for the loss of his freedom…

–– fin.

#✘:: ≪ Anons ≫#✘:: ≪ Asks ≫#★:: ≪ AU: Aurātus ≫#✘:: ≪ Drabbles ≫

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moonduskt · 4 years ago

Text

BOOK TWO: Trixie and Katya’s Guide to Modern Womanhood

“Trixie and Katya’s Guide to Modern Womanhood”

Author: Trixie Mattel and Katya Zamolodchikova

Year: 2020

Publisher: Penguin Randomhouse

Note: Possible spoilers, for those who’s uncomfortable with them please read the novel first, okay? Thank you.

I have an endearing little problem in life. Amusing enough to make me chuckle and save it on my phone’s memory, yet also more than enough to annoy me to no end.

My juniors at uni like to call me a Boomer these days, or an old lady, whichever is best used in the moment; they cackle and giggle and tease me fondly. All of that because I consciously seldom myself from the madness of social media. That way, whenever they’re talking about something viral and the most important news of the day, or latest meme and high-charted funny song, I never, ever, understand any of them in full context. That is how they start with their old woman jokes.

So I, in my early twenty years of age, need to find a way to prove to them that I am not the old hag they accuse me of. A modern woman with impeccable taste, a futuristic and visionary one if possible. Hence, the moment I have a hold of Trixie Mattel and Katya Zamolodchikova’s “Trixie and Katya’s Guide to Modern Womanhood”, I read it as soon as possible like it is my only Bible to the future.

(No, I’m just half joking. I read the book because I love Trixie Mattel and Katya Zamolodchikova, too, from the north pole to the south pole and back to the north pole again.)

As the title suggests, “Trixie and Katya’s Guide to Modern Womanhood” is a guidebook, or a life-advice book, for the women (but not limited to men) to be the baddest modern woman out there, ready to tackle the society’s expectation successfully. Written in various methods, the book is divided into three important parts: beauty and style, homemaking, and relationships.

As you may guess, through the ‘Beauty and Style’ part, Trixie and Katya told us how to be dazzlingly beautiful from the physical realm until the inner self-love we all need in order to achieve it successfully. From the basics such as hair, makeup, heels, personal style, and personal hygiene, to the side-quests we need to be aware of like alcohol, drugs, and most importantly self love. Presented in an advice columns, a questionnaire, bullet points, and even a short essay of their own experience meticulously, we would be the shining, shimmering, and splendid pretty women (and men) ready to face the world by the time we turned the page for the second part of the book.

It turns out that being beautiful inside and outside simply isn’t enough to be a modern woman according to these two biological women. We need to be knowledgeable in our home affairs too, especially money concerned matters, because it is very expensive to survive in this world as a woman. Another important thing we need to be masterful of is our kingdom of digital platforms. How to put out the correct persona on the internet and manage it carefully to avoid any unwarranted problems because of the internet’s unforgiving harsh judgement, and most importantly how to take a rest from the madness of it for some time, the world that never sleeps.

I feel like I resonated through this chapter so much. I used to be a very active user of social media platforms, especially twitter. In my younger days, I was this utterly stupid, embarrassing clown who should’ve been banned from the community for existing alone. Then I realized how foolish I was, and some other reasons slipped in the middle of it that made me stop using any social media platforms other than WhatsApp and YouTube. It takes time to build the courage to take care of social media again, and I need to always stay alert in case I make the same mistakes as the past, too.

From the words of famous Barbie dolls collector Trixie Mattel, decorating your own home is an important thing to do, too, since it shows who you really are. Your own home is one part of you that other people don’t get to judge, a part of personality that should be barricaded from the harsh opinion of the outside world. Related to this theme was the decluttering part of having your own home. Sometimes we get too little too attached to the things we don’t actually need anymore.

Relationship is another condiment element of our life that we couldn’t not talk about, but don’t worry, because Trixie and Katya lightly guided us through the art of meeting new people and how to properly hooking up. After those cheery cherry on top advice, these women also gave us the ultimate how-to’s on breakups and friendship. I will write it in here because I think these two were the most important advice pieces from the third part:

One, Trixie said that the thing you need to do when you just broke up with someone is to not let yourself succumbing into the sadness to much, you have to be rational about the break-up too because parting ways with your ex is not the end of the world and there is still a lot of possibilities of love out there;

Two, in friendship, it is actually good not to be possessive of your friend. Just because you don’t spend your every waking time, every minute, every second of your life talking with them that it means bad. No, sometimes it’s healthy because both you and your friend do have your own life and need the space and time to breathe. It’s okay to stay away for awhile, and it’s okay to catch up.

About this book, I thank God in Heaven that there’s nothing I don’t like in this book. To be honest, I promise myself I will close this book as soon as I feel like I am being scolded for the poor choices I make my whole life. It is an important thing to note, because I have a personal vendetta against any kind of motivational or life advice’s materials, even if it is given in the form of magical words on a best-selling book or the alluring vocals in a heart-wrenching song. No particular reason for my hatred towards motivational bullshits, it’s just in my nature to reject any hopes that certain people are trying to inject into society.

“Trixie and Katya’s Guide to Modern Womanhood” is an easy to read book, sometimes with self-deprecating jokes, humorous advice, or flippant statements that never fails to make me grinning from ear to ear. A lot of the advice given inside isn’t even that serious, I think, but when it is actually serious, it never makes me feel offended or anything. If there is any reaction extracted from me, is that I am seriously thinking and considering the point given by Trixie and/or Katya. Instead of telling me what to do with steps too demanding and expecting instant perfect results, like the other life-advice and motivational books out there, this book is giving me options with rational reasons behind it. This book urged me in a joking way, yet sternly, to do better. This books told me that it’s okay to fucked things up because human do fucking shits up most of the time, as long as we try to do better and actively trying to make amends about our messy past.

Isn’t that what life-advice books are supposed to be doing?

For some people claiming that they don’t really like to read books and are amateur writers, sure Trixie and Katya write a very excellent piece of book. It’s suspicious enough to make me think that they’re just bluffing about it. This book feels like it was written by veteran writers who write as their main job, and not a couple of drag queens who are busy touring and appearing on various YouTube channels with every other side jobs and business they currently own.

What an effortless read, this book is. It’s not that serious like more heavy-weight non-fictional or super engaging like the fictional one, I can sit it out for few hours and when I get back to it, “Trixie and Katya’s Guide to Modern Womanhood” will welcome me with open arms to read it again like I never leave in the first place. Trixie and Katya choose to write it with such simple words for simple sentences, and my illiterate ass is so grateful for that. Yet behind the unassuming sentences and the never-ending jokes, hids all the brilliant tricks to make those paragraphs magnificent and elegant while the clown make-up is still on. The power only Trixie and Katya has, all of you (and me) should take note of it.

Last thing about their writing style, I need you to know that Trixie and Katya knocked me on the head and told me to read my dictionary more, since there were some words that I never knew existed in English. I have to say that I bought a very thick notebook since late June, intended to write all of the unfamiliar English words I come across inside the books I read, yet I haven’t done anything with it until now. This book is the proof that I need to do better. In a way, this book motivates me to be better just like Trixie and Katya.

(Whether I proceed with that motivational sentiment is another topic to talk about another time.)

What I also like from this book is that as much as it is a life-advice book, it is also a life-style magazine in very thick pages, perhaps a super super special edition one. “Trixie and Katya’s Guide to Modern Womanhood” is very cute in interior design, despite the fierce red of the cover. Splashes of pinks and pastel blues, cute big quotation and tips column, and the photos! Lord in Heaven, the photos! I can’t stop looking at every picture for more than two minutes, happily observing every silly pose Trixie and Katya made, and little trinkets and wigs and the costumes they’re wearing on those shoots. I feel like I’m having a special photobook of the K-Pop artist that I like.

(No, I never bought a K-Pop album before, nor a K-Pop photobook, so I’m just talking out of my ass.)

I’m so happy that I have the chance to read this book until the last page, and I also feel grateful because this book is kind and takes care of me well. For someone who doesn’t like reading motivational or life-advice books like me, I can guarantee you that you will love and cherish this book so much, whether you like Trixie and Katya or not. They won’t judge your every inch of life, nor they will kick your asses for being you. I’m hoping that Trixie and Katya will write another book next time. Cheers to these two biological women!

#book review #book blog #review #books #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixie and katya guide to modern womanhood

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emptynarration · 4 years ago

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Verses and AUs (Long Edition)

All these AUs can work with either Host or Author. I’ll write down only the Host option, though in the Human AU Author’s human name is also stated.

Most of these verses have been made from my old version of Host. Said Host is small, sort of depressed, pretty sad and soft. So the opposite of the new revamped Host. There might be differences in how I write Host due to having those two versions of Host.

I’ll make a second page for verses keeping my old version of Host in mind, which will be linked with every AU that has it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Human AU [Second Version]

Host is named Markus Barker. Sometimes uses Host as nickname.

He is either: Born blind (sclera/pupil milky). Blind due to a disease (Neuromyelitis Optica).

He lives on his own with his pets. He either: Lives in his cabin in the forest. Lives on the outskirts of town with a garden.

He has an older brother (Arthur, world-wide known author).

He works on a rather popular podcast as main-narrator. He also either: Works at a radio station. Stays at home (financial help from his brother).

Can also go with human Author, the aforementioned brother of Host.

Both can also exist without brother.

Human Slave AU:

Host is named Markus Barker. Host is his nickname though

He is either: Born blind (sclera/pupil milky). Got his eyes gouged out by an owner.

He had been sold as slave when he had been a young child (around 4 y/o?).

Medieval AU: [Second Version]

Host is named Markus Barker.

He’s a servant for a noble household, with bad eyesight. He hates it there, but there’s nothing he can do if he doesn’t want to end up on the street. Even if that means being treated like dirt.

Royal AU: [Second Version]

Host is named Markus Barker.

He’s a rather young king (20-25) because his parents died in a tragic “accident”.

He’s rather strict, but very open-minded and protective of his kingdom.

He is as good as blind, only able to see colours and shapes, due to an accident as child.

in case of magic, his situation with Alden is pretty much the same, though they keep it hidden.

Neko AU: [Second Version]

He is named Host (by his mother)

He is 2'4"

He was born blind (sclera/pupil milky).

He is biologically female but identifies as male.

He was taken away from his mother from a very young age (too young to be taken away from his mother).

His first real owner mistreated him terribly.

He’s angry at the world and hates people, not afraid of them even with his very small size.

Broken Host AU:

This Host is based on the old fandom interpretation after MarkiplierTV:

Dark is at cause for taking Author’s eyes, in exchange for power.

Due to that Host is one of Dark’s “pawns” and is forced to tell him about visions and things in the future as soon as possible.

Due to basically abuse he was mentally broken by Dark.

He is extremely obedient to Dark.

He’s covered in scars and brandings (burn scars).

He doesn’t speak a lot.

He gets lost in his head, and especially in his narrations, a lot.

Angel AU:

Host is named Markus (he was once human).

His pupils are white (eyes usually covered up by a cloth)

He is a collector of souls from dying people.

He can see the souls of living beings with his eyes uncovered (but not allowed to do so technically).

His wings are white, the feather-tips golden.

Knows English more or less.

Mermaid AU: (other versions depending on size!)

Host goes by the name of Host.

He had almost been caught once by humans, which resulted in the loss of his eyesight, and thick scars over his eyes.

His scales are golden. His fins are slightly see-through, and tipped green. His ears are fins. He has fins on his underarms. He has scales on his shoulders and arms.

He has scales that glow in the dark, and markings on his face which also glow in the dark (not visible unless glowing)

He’s a siren, and thus can speak and understand English.

Underwater mermaids communicate via clicking sounds (kinda like morse code, but different).

Fairy AU: (Basically an OC shhh) (More extra info here)

Host is named Rhosyn, but may go by the name Host as well.

He is a (flower) fairy.

He can change his size, between 0.5 inches and 3 feet.

His wings are large and slightly see-through. Golden in colour, with intricate swirls covering them.

(The rest of his looks)

He lives in a small flower field he takes care of by himself.

He is blind, but has learned to see magic.

Every living thing (from humans, to fae, to plants) have magic to some amount, which he can see and tell what he is looking at.

Harpy AU

Host has no name he goes by, but will let anyone name him

He is 8 inches tall

He’s a brown thrasher harpy

He has slightly darker skin (than Mark), short, like brown fuzz on his head resembling hair; white feathers with dark spots on his chest and hips down his thighs, where his legs then turn into bird’s feet; dark brown, almost black eyes. His wings have light brown feathers.

He mainly eats fruits, berries, nuts and insects

He isn’t afraid to attack anything larger than him, going so far as to attack humans if he has to

Forest Deity AU (It’s basically an OC shh)

Host goes by the name Elvin, since the forest he lives in is called Elvin Forest (Elvin means friend of elves)

He’s 5'3 tall

He has long dark brown hair, reaching his mid-back. His eyes are the color of tree resin/amber, the colour looking different depending on the light. He has “antlers”, long branches growing from his head and upwards. They change with the season; growing leafs and flowers; but are always decorated with little trinkets. He’s always bare-footed.

He is “bound” to one tree, which would hurt and kill him if it were chopped down. But he is also the heart of the forest, feeling with it, and it feeling with him

He has magical powers, and can talk to plants, trees and animals

For the people he is something of a myth: some people pray to him, some people ask for help or advice, some don’t believe in him

Fused AU:

Host isn’t a regular ego but also is an ego

TBH I’m uncertain about the lore of this either I’d say all egos are fused or this is a punishment made by Dark or smth

Host is “fused” with his recording equipment

Headphones always on his head, microphone in a metal mask strapped over his mouth

A rig on the back of his chair connected to his arms and hands which controls his movement. He can’t stand up

(Inspired by this drawing, and how he looks like in the AU)

Little Demon AU:

Host is a demon, still called Host

He is 7 inches tall

He has dark purple horns and two tails, and no bandages, but keeps his eyes closed

Looking into his eyes will cause the looker to be pulled into their own mind and be faced with their deepest and darkest fear

Host will be able to see that and interact with the person there, but also leave them there alone to suffer

He can “teleport” short distances, mostly through shadows

Doll AU: / It’s basically an OC shhh

Host is called Benjamin

He is a porcelain doll, 20 inches tall

He is typically asleep, and only comes to life and awakens after 4-5 days of constant care and love towards him

He stays alive through the love and care and want to have him alive from his owner, but also needs to be near them

If left alone and too far away from his owner for too long, his energy will slowly vanish throughout a few days. Making him tired, sluggish, and slow, until he can’t manage to walk anymore, and then can’t keep his eyes open

He was made in 1667 and has been with 19 different people/families throughout his life

A/B/O AU: [Second Version]

If human, Host goes by Markus Barker, Host as a nickname.

He’s a little feminine looking, but due to his height, no one suspects he’s anything but an Alpha.

He’s an Omega. Takes suppressants and scent-blockers to hide this status though.

Child Host AU:

Normal Host technically, but Host is a child now.

He’s 3'3".

He looks the exact same pretty much.

He doesn’t have any memories of being an adult.

Alden is also affected by this, and is brought to a more child-like state.

Asylum AU

Host goes by the name The Host

He is locked in a cell because of hallucinations and unreliable behaviour

Eyes AU

Host still has his eyes

Author was actually more timid and nice and not lusting after power

Dark absolutely hates him because Host doesn’t let himself be manipulated

(Inspired by this picture)

Swap AU

Host is swapped with Dark

He is monochrome. He wears a black trenchcoat and black tights, as well as knee-high black combat boots. He has a bright strand of hair, no eyes, and bandages around his eyes.

Here’s some info about the swap AU and Host’s backstory

He is called Darkiplier in this AU (pronounced Dark-eplí-er? sorta french lol)

He talks in third person as a comfort mechanism

He doesn’t really have a goal like normal Dark (getting revenge on Actor) but he takes care of the other egos and keeps them safe and in check

He does his radio show still, but has no narrating powers

Forest Creature AU

Host had died in the forest wishing to be a part of it

He is still humanoid, but he is covered in moss, leafs, plants, etc, growing all over him. Flowers grew over his blind eyes.

He fell in love with Edward Iplier, but he died in his arms. He is alone.

Banished Author AU

Author was banished into the void by Dark due to Dark believing Author would grow to become very dangerous towards himself and others

He had been stuck in the void, all by himself, for years

Being stuck in the void, he doesn’t physically age, and has no bodily needs

The void seeped into him, mixed with him, changing him

While he still has his powers of writing, and they are still primarily that, the void is a part of him now in a way

Little Space: (nsfw-ish)

Normal verse Host

In headspace he’s either around 1 year or around 4-6 years old

He usually is alone in his room to be little on his own

He largely prefers to be diapered and wear soft clothes

#the other is speaking #blog rules

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goldeagleprice · 6 years ago

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Bowers on collecting: How to spot a potential candidate for coin collecting

By Q. David Bowers

Last week I was at the Whitman Coin Expo in Baltimore, and in this blog I shared some thoughts about the new quarter eagle book I am now compiling. This week I return to answering questions sent by readers. This is from Jerry H.:

I have been collecting coins for a number of years now and have geared my collection around the birthdates of the folks in my family tree (genealogy). I plan to pass the coins and info on to my granddaughter later, when she is old enough to appreciate it.

My question is what is the best way to do this without reams of paper or the clumsiness of coin handling…is the best way to do it through computer generated software or a hands-on display?

You do not state the age of your granddaughter. When I used to teach the All About Coins class at the American Numismatic Association Summer Seminar in Colorado Springs I always found that the brightest and best students were teenagers. This is their time to discover many things in the world — about life and its many aspects. If your granddaughter is, say, 12 years old or older, I would determine if she has a collecting instinct — whether it be dolls, buttons, books, trinkets, or anything else. You could even start if she is, say, eight or nine years old. I have absolutely found that for someone to become seriously interested in collecting coins, they need to have this attribute. Even among adults, someone who collects stamps, old bottles, sports cards, antique cars, or anything else is an easy candidate to collect coins. If she has no collecting instinct it would be better to sell the coins and give her money for clothes, travel, or something else.

I could recite a long list of unfortunate stories in which recipients of coins who were not interested in them sold them for pennies on the dollar to raise cash.

Uncirculated grades are definitely in the minority for Barber silver coins. This 1911-S half dollar was owned by super-collector Louis Eliasberg. (Photos courtesy of Stack’s Bowers Galleries). Hover to zoom.

If she is interested in coins, give her a Guide Book of United States Coins and, perhaps, a selection of circulated old coins—such as in Good to Fine grades, an Indian Head cent, 1909 V.D.B. cent, Liberty Head and Buffalo nickels, the three Barber silver types, a Standing Liberty quarter, an album for State and America the Beautiful quarters, a Morgan dollar, and a Peace dollar. Don’t do this all at once. Perhaps start with the cents and nickels and suggest that she read about them.

Beyond that, if she shows interest, buy her some more books. The “100 Greatest” Whitman series has a lot of stories, and in particular, the three volumes on the 100 Greatest United States Coins, the 100 Greatest American Medals and Tokens, and the 100 Greatest American Currency Notes might inspire new pathways. If she takes a fancy to these she will become self-propelled. Your next step is to take her to a coin show or two and give her a modest budget.

As to computers, these are dandy, and she probably already has one. Go with books first for hands-on experience, and then a computer can add information.

Best of success with your generosity and effort!

❑

Comments

At the gas station yesterday as I was walking by overheard a ... by KEITHSTER

#Precious Metals

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seekingsweetsimplicity · 7 years ago

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It’ll Be Worth A Lot

“It’ll be worth a lot of money someday.”

I heard this line more times than I can count in my life. At the very least, I heard some variation on the theme. Whatever it is—and so many things have fallen under this category—there will come a day when whatever investment you put into it will pay out tenfold or even more.

I have no idea when or where this payout is ever going to happen. I believe the idea of the amazing future worth of some things comes from these crazes we hear about where someone bought a beanie baby that was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars or someone had a baseball card that made them rich.

But the fact of the matter is that nothing is ever worth more than someone is willing to pay for it.

That means that for you to sell anything that’s “worth” all this money, you have to have the right audience. You have to have the right buyer, in the right time, and in the right place, that wants to buy this item for all this money that it’s supposedly “worth”. If you don’t have that, you don’t have squat. You’ve got an item and you’ve got whatever you might manage to get for it.

Ebay has given people a better opportunity of selling some of these items, but I’d venture to say that not too many people are striking it rich off items they’re dragging out of their attics. Now, of course, that’s not to say that it never happens, but I don’t think it happens with the frequency that some low-key hoarders (who might call themselves collectors in this case) think that it does.

Honestly, it’s luck of the draw.

I can think of two particular cases where I came face to face with this phenomenon.

The first was when I was very young. It should be explained that I’ve been in love with Dolly Parton since I was about three years old. One year (I don’t remember which), my parents took me to Dollywood as a special family vacation. While I was in Dollywood, I got a doll that was a Dolly Parton doll. She was beautiful. She looked just like Dolly Parton (to my child mind) and I couldn’t wait to love her. I had my very own Dolly Parton doll that I could play with and interact with.

But not so fast.

My mother told me that I couldn’t open the doll because she was special. She was a “collectible” doll and didn’t need to be opened and played with. She wasn’t meant for that. Instead, she was meant to be “saved” and admired through her cardboard and cellophane protection. One day, it was almost assured, she’d be worth a lot of money—but she wouldn’t be worth anything if she was taken out and “loved” to the point of no longer being her beautiful, pristine self.

I left Dolly in the box as I was instructed. Eventually, Dolly moved to the attic. I didn’t care. I didn’t love her. She was as inaccessible to me as the real Dolly Parton was. She wasn’t real. She was just a doll in a box that I couldn’t touch, couldn’t hold, and couldn’t play with.

She went in to storage to wait for the day when she’d be worth something, because she certainly wasn’t worth anything to me when I couldn’t interact with her.

Fast forward to many years later when I was cleaning out my attic space and getting (some) control over the excess of stuff that had been accumulated there. I found Dolly. Time had damaged the box until it was fragile and crumpled on one side. The glue from the cellophane had come loose and it had fallen open. Years and time in the attic had started to make her dress wear through in the way that “saved” clothing has a way of doing.

Dolly wasn’t worth any money. She never would be. And she’d never be worth anything to me because I had grown past the age of loving dolls—and she was a doll that had almost been left, unloved and uncared for, too long to have too much worth left in her.

It was with some regret and sadness that I made the decision to give Dolly to some of the children that I know to play with. They weren’t Dolly Parton fans, and so they wouldn’t love her the way that I would have, but at least she could be a doll to them. They could play with her and enjoy her, at least a little, before she simply rotted away to nothingness.

At least she’d have some kind of chance at a “life” outside of the rotting box.

During and around this time, I also started to collect action figures and other trinkets from my current favorite television show. I was excited by the action figures because I’d always wanted action figures growing up, but I’d never really watched anything that had them to offer. I was interested in the toy, but not in its current form. Suddenly the figures were available for a show that I enjoyed. I started buying and “collecting” them. I didn’t need all of them, of course. I only needed the characters that I was interested in having. As soon as they arrived, I took them out of their boxes to play with them. I liked feeling them in my hands. I liked putting their accessories on them and turning them over in my hands to explore all their details. I liked rearranging them on my shelf.

And my uncle, discovering that I was collecting them along with several other items from the show, said something to me that I wish I could say that I wasn’t expecting. He said I shouldn’t have taken them out of their boxes. I should have left them in the boxes because they weren’t going to be worth as much now that they were out of the boxes and being handled.

They weren’t going to be worth as much.

They weren’t worth anything in the boxes. Not to me.

Left in the boxes, they were worth nothing more than boxes taking up space. They would have likely stayed there until they ended up in an attic somewhere. They would have never been worth anything to me.

Just like Dolly.

Now, I know this is probably making every collector of “things that will be worth something someday” scream right now. I know that they’re probably saying I’m ridiculous for taking things out of their boxes and “ruining their value”. I know they’re probably quoting articles and books and everything else that promises the value of things to come and boasts about people who have sold things for ridiculous amounts of money because they held onto it for sixty years.

And for those people, I’d say—leave it in the box. Don’t touch it. Hold onto it. Keep it for when it’s worth a lot of money.

I’m just not one of those people.

It’s worth a lot more to me if I can actually enjoy it instead of holding onto it in the chance (and to me that’s a very minor chance) that it becomes worth a lot of money and I just happen to be in the right place at the right time to sell it to someone who wants to pay me that large sum of money.

Things, after all, are only worth what people decide they’re worth.

My things are worth more, to me, if I get to enjoy them.

#collecting #minimalism #value of items #it'll be worth a lot someday #it's only worth what it's worth to me #saving things #harnessing the hoard

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