#anyway happy 427 everyone!

[blackkatdraws2]

Happy 4/27, Stanley!! [Blank Scripts AU/shitpost]

[cozza-frenzy]

Fanfic: A La Carte (Part 1: Appetizer)

It’s a big part of what makes us human; believing we have a soul that needs to be fed, too. So this one has been in the works for a little longer than the others! Not only has my Discord “job” been keeping me VERY busy, but I also wasn’t sure where to go with this, exactly... but after seeing a certain art post yesterday, I know now... and I also know it needs to be a 2-parter. Yep, this one’s LONG, folks. And it’s about food! I’d like to give my thanks once again to @chronicsheepdrawing​ for their wonderful designs and autistic character headcanons. This is going to be less angst, more fluff this time, so content warnings are a little more sparse! May we all experience moments of Autistic Joy like those found in this story. Happy Autism Acceptance Month! Part 3 of a series: Anything Not Saved A Perfect Moment

CONTENT WARNINGS: Body Dysphoria (Not Gender Related), Messy Eating, References to Sensory Deprivation, Mild Sensory Overload

So whose birthday do you think it is this time? Ah, yes, I suppose it DOES say “Happy Celebration To Whomever”, doesn’t it? It might not even BE a birthday. It might even be celebrating all of the incredibly productive work we’ve been doing! Gosh, imagine that! FINALLY some recognition for all those years of- …And you’re gone. Of course. No doubt you have more important things to do than talk to the likes of me. Honestly, I don’t even know WHY I bother - I swear, it’s almost like some sort of COMPULSION! Just rambling on, and on, and on, and… oh dear, and I’m even doing it when there’s nobody to listen… …Hm. Actually, come to think of it… I wonder if he got the memo… ? 427? Ah, Employee 427? Hello? …Stanley, it’s ME - open the door! Oh, there you are Stanley! I do hope I wasn’t interrupting anything; oh, you were waiting for-? Well you… you didn’t HAVE to, you do realize that, right?? You were really just going to sit in your office, pushing your buttons, until I just HAPPENED to call out to you? I mean for heaven’s sake, Stanley! Don’t you want to take the initiative for even ONCE in your career? It could result in you getting promoted! Or possibly- well, probably more than likely, fired. But aren’t some things worth the- …What do you MEAN you already got one?? I just BROUGHT you a- Oh. Oh Stanley, you-you didn’t! You didn’t… heeheehee, really!? Well come onl, come on, get inside, quick! Shh! SHH!! Hahahahaaa, I can’t believe it!! I can’t BELIEVE you-what? NO, I’m not going to TELL! Gosh, what do you take me for, Stanley?? I mean you’re one of our most valuable employees; who ELSE could push buttons like you can, I ask you?? No-one, that’s who! Though I must say, haha, I never would have pegged YOU as the secret Bad Boy of the office! Mister Employee Four-Twenty-Seven, pilfering an extra slice of cake from under everyone’s collective nose! They’ll never suspect a thing! Hahaha…! …Oh come now, stop that, we’re not going to get CAUGHT. And even if we did, it’s probably my fault, anyway. Ugh, I must be a truly terrible influence on you, Stanley, I really must… it’s that horrid little rebellious streak in me. Probably why I never seem to get anywhere in this bloody office… Ah? Oh thank you Stanley, I’d love some coffee. Little more sugar if you could- yes, and- oh, you remembered! Ah yes, that’s lovely, I… oh, um, are you sure? I know how much everyone looks forward to our scheduled Standard Issue Office Sheet Cake, but you took that fair and - oh GO ON then, you absolute rascal! Since you’ve already cut it and everything… heh. Happy Whatever-It-Is, Stanley… —————————————————————————————————- This is a story about a man named Stanley. Today - if there even is such a thing as a ‘day’ any more - Stanley is in the Employee Break Room. A place he’d stopped by countless times previously, just to admire; the gray walls and dark blue carpet as comforting and familiar as they ever were. The couch; just as soft, yet firm enough to encourage the good sitting posture that was vital for employees. The whole place still smelling vaguely of printer ink, paper, and coffee. It was quiet now, given that all of Stanley’s coworkers had mysteriously vanished, leaving him alone in the office. Or, well… not quite alone. Not any more. Next to Stanley, on the couch, sat his Narrator. Some time ago, they’d had a fateful - and completely intentional, absolutely no mistakes were made - encounter in The Memory Zone. And since then, he’d decided to stick around. It just felt far more comfortable than unloading his model; it gave him something to anchor himself to, something that reminded him he was real. And all things considered, it wasn’t that bad. Even if he was still slowly learning to tolerate his… eh… he twisted the words around in his head, tossing aside epithets like “silly-looking” and “bizarre”, completely ignoring “ugly” and “monstrous” for a change, before finally settling on something. Unusual form. Yes, that will do for now… Ahem. Anyway; overall, The Narrator was, at least, willing to tolerate the unusual situation he’d found himself in. Since then, he’d found there was one thing more important to him than how he felt… and that was how Stanley, his protagonist, felt. After all; without him and without his co-operation, there was no story. There was no Stanley Parable without Stanley. So of course, as his Narrator, he couldn’t have him become lonely or depressed. Especially since the last time the Parable ended, The Narrator could have sworn they’d finally found freedom… They’d finally stepped outside; onto real grass and real dirt! Surrounded by real trees, under a real sky! On his very life, he could have sworn that they had... and yet… like a dream, or perhaps a burning memory, curling up in the flames like a discarded photograph, they’d found themselves back here. In the office. Right where they’d started. Perhaps they’d made a mistake somewhere… Stanley moved his hands, and the Narrator glanced downward. No, wait, he wasn’t saying anything; he was just fidgeting. And, he noticed, Stanley’s head had been resting against his shoulder - but it seemed from his half-laying, half-sprawled position on the couch, he’d slid down until his ear now rested against the Narrator’s stomach. Something that - the Narrator now realized - had probably been intentional. It was a comfort thing for him, apparently. Something about the liquid sloshing around in there helped him calm down. And perhaps it was the weight of Stanley’s head, or the soft sound of his breathing, or the gentle touch of his button-calloused fingers, but the Narrator couldn’t help but feel calmer too. It made things seem more… alright. Not entirely alright; not just after what they’d both been through, but more alright in himself. Like maybe he didn’t hate this body quite as much as he had previously. It certainly seemed to help keep his thoughts from going to much darker places... Stanley moved his hands again. The Narrator heaved a huge sigh. “Stanley, if you’re going to say something, just say it. I know you were disappointed with how our story ended, but we can’t try again if we just sit here and stew in our own failure… slow-cooking in regret… a crock-pot of misery and hopelessness, with a side dish of pointlessness, and a bitter-sweet ‘we’re never going to get out but at least we’re still here’ sauce… ” The Narrator’s words caught in his throat, and he stopped himself before he choked on them. No, no, he wasn’t going to let this get to him! This was his story! Nobody could tell him how to feel about it except him! He wasn’t about to backslide into utterly crushing despair… No, not him… definitely not… <Do you miss being human?> “W-what??” The Narrator boggled - he’d retired, undefeated, from Professional Boggling, but still boggled casually when the mood called for it - and looked down at Stanley. “You… “ He wondered for a moment how Stanley had remembered, but… of course he had. Back in the Memory Zone, they’d talked for hours, perhaps even longer, and of course sooner or later, everything had to come out. The fact that The Narrator still had memories of being human, once. Memories of having a real face, with makeup he’d painstakingly applied with real hands, that in turn had real nails, painted in office-appropriate colors. And how he couldn’t remember what he looked like, or what his name had been, but- “...You already know how I feel about that, Stanley. I can’t go back.” Somehow, the thought of returning to that time terrified him. Slowly, something had been coming together, at the core of the shattered funhouse mirror that made up his memories. Something that stared into his soul with a white-hot, searing sense of wrongness. Something that gave him no choice but to look away. I can’t go back to what I was before. I can’t. <I know that.> Stanley signed; taking a moment to sit up, he paused to think about what he was going to sign, as he often did. <But you really don’t miss anything?> “Stanley-” The Narrator started with a warning tone. Stanley certainly liked to push buttons; and apparently not only did he not know when to quit, but his obsession with button-pushing also applied to pushing other people’s buttons. But The Narrator couldn’t deny; the look on Stanley’s face held no malice. It was the same way he looked at The Narrator’s hands, when he ran his thumb over the line of stitches. The same way he watched the liquid inside his transparent globe of a belly slosh back and forth, and the way the light reflected off his plastic eyes. He remembered when Stanley had noticed his tie resembled The Stanley Parable Adventure Line™, and the biggest smile had crossed his face as his fingers traced its shape and felt its silky texture, wide eyes drinking in its bright color. Then they’d both just sat for a while, and reminisced about how they’d teamed up for the mis-adventure dubbed The Confusion Ending... It was pure, simple curiosity on Stanley’s face. The Narrator felt his cheeks flush involuntarily; it seemed he was still inexplicably fascinated by everything about him. And that, apparently, included what was inside his head. <I was just asking because…> Stanley hesitated again, looking away nervously. <Because you were talking about food. Do you miss it?> “Talking about-? Wait, was I - oh! Oh, Stanley… ” The Narrator laughed a little; “That was a metaphor! I wasn’t literally talking about those things, I was simply describing-” Stanley shook his head vigorously; waving his hands. Oh no. He wanted him to stop talking. The Narrator’s words had apparently got him thinking, and now he was practically buzzing with questions, a torrent of them starting to spill out like angry hornets from a disturbed nest. <Do you ever get hungry?> “I, ah… ” Did he feel hungry? He’d never really thought about it, but come to think of it… no. He’d never felt hungry; not once since he’d woken up like this. No urge to eat meant he’d never even tried to, though he had no reason to believe he couldn’t… and what was equally strange was he’d had no urge to drink, either. Or sleep! Or - well, this one was convenient, at least - use the facilities. And yet somehow it had never crossed his mind that this was unusual at all-? The Narrator wondered for a moment if it was simply the way his body was now; transformed from a mere human into some kind of immortal and ever-moving construct, perhaps by a Higher Power with a twisted sense of humor. But then… that couldn’t be true, could it? Because now that he thought about it; not only had he never felt hungry or thirsty since The Parable began, but neither had Stanley. But Stanley - dear, simple Stanley - seemingly hadn’t noticed anything was amiss. And he was still persisting in asking questions. <Do you still eat?> “I don’t have to.” The Narrator said curtly, prickling with defensiveness. “Why is this so important to you, exactly?” Dodging the Narrator’s question like a protagonist from a much more exciting genre would dodge bullets, Stanley was already tilting his head quizzically, locking and loading  yet another question. He squinted, like he was trying to make sense of something. The Narrator squinted back. The questions were already annoying him, but there was very little that irritated him more than being ignored, and he was about to launch into a lengthy rant when Stanley pointed to his face and asked... <Where is your mouth?> “What!?” The Narrator huffed, immediately caught off-guard by such a ridiculous question. “I mean, really?? Goodness, Stanley, I can’t believe you have to ask that! Obviously it’s right here!” He pointed to his mouth. Stanley just looked hopelessly confused. “Ugh, don’t look at me like that... you look like a puppy with a headache.” The Narrator sighed, rolling his eyes a little as he relented. Evidently, this wasn’t going to stop unless he did something to stop it. “Alright, just give me a moment. This should put an end to all these bloody questions… ” He reached into his memories. No, not all of them were smashed, broken, piled up in ways that only sort-of made sense like some kind of junk yard - oh no, not at all! Events, people, faces, things that had happened when he’d used to be human, anything that was complicated was a mess… but memories of things? Ah yes, things! Things were simple. He could handle things; hell, he’d even fabricated an entire Memory Zone out of things! Things were great! In fact, things were fantastic. There was no way things could possibly end badly. So of course, taking a memory of a simple chocolate chip cookie and manifesting it was hardly any effort at all; Stanley jumped a little as it appeared in The Narrator’s hand with a small ‘pop’. “Since you’re so utterly fixated on this for some reason, Stanley - allow me to demonstrate.” He took a bite. ————————————————————————————————— Meanwhile; a man named Stanley wasn’t entirely sure what he’d just seen happen. Nor was he entirely sure what he was still seeing, right in front of him, right now, as the Narrator took a second bite of the cookie he’d just created out of seemingly nothing, with the mouth he didn’t seem to have. But he was chewing all the same, complete with crunching sounds as if he had teeth… and there was a distant look crossing his face for a moment, as if he was taking a moment to taste it… “Mm, that is… my, that is actually rather good… ” said The Narrator, his voice slightly muffled from a mouthful of cookie. “In fact it's very good - I think perhaps I’ve outdone myself!” He brought the dessert level with his face, and - again! - a big bite suddenly disappeared. Stanley couldn’t help but stare. Not just because of how unreal it looked, but because The Narrator looked… happy. Very happy. His whole body seemed to have relaxed; and as he took another bite he actually made small, happy sounds, one of his glove-hands touching his own cheek as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “Mm… mm! Oh, I wasn’t expecting… Stanley, I know I made this, but this really tastes home-made! It’s simply del-i-cious!“ - munch, crunch - “So crisp! And chewy in the center… dark chocolate chips, a little sprinkle of salt… my gosh, it’s divine!” Stanley watched as The Narrator… licked the chocolate off his fingers? Somehow he knew that was what he was doing, even though he didn’t see a tongue. Trying to make sense of it, as the man pulled a napkin from his pocket and cleaned himself off, was starting to make his head feel weird… “Oh, Stanley! You simply must try one!” The Narrator said eagerly, offering a cookie with his other hand - he actually laughed a little, the experience having made him almost giddy. “Go ahead, it’s not going to bite you!” Stanley hadn’t even heard a ‘pop’ this time and yet here it was - another cookie, being held between glove-fingers, right under his nose. He looked at it for a moment; just like the other cookie, it had come from seemingly nowhere. But the smell of vanilla and brown sugar was real enough to make his mouth water, and the chocolate chips almost seemed to glisten under the office lights, like they were just slightly melted… “Oh come on, Stanley! I make an entire Memory Zone for you to walk through, and a bloody cookie is what makes you stand there, mouth agape??” The Narrator snapped, irritated by Stanley’s continued hesitation. “This is quite the treat, I’ll have you know!” Stanley carefully reached out his hand. “Don’t make me change my mind, because I will scoff the entire thing if you don’t.” Stanley snatched the cookie like it might run away from him and took a big bite. Immediately, Stanley exhaled through his nose; yes, now he understood. Now he felt that tingling from his very core; that rapidly rising tide of joy! The cookie was warm, and sweet, and its perfectly crispy edge practically melted on his tongue like buttery cotton candy. The crunchy exterior and soft, chewy interior were a symphony of textures. The chunky, bittersweet dark chocolate was a rich, heavy bass. And popping here and there to balance out all that sugar were little crystalline flakes of sea salt, that came in a flash and vanished like falling stars… He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a cookie this good. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a cookie. And now he desperately wanted a glass of milk to go with it. Stanley gestured frantically at the Narrator, hardly able to form a coherent sign. “A glass of-? Oh of course, what was I thinking!” Another pop, and there was suddenly a glass of milk in his hand. Suppressing his excitement for just a moment, Stanley steeled his nerves and sipped, letting the ice-cold drink contrast the gentle heat... and sighed. It tasted like how a warm blanket felt in the night air; his whole body wrapped in a comforting, nostalgic hug, made all the sweeter from the chill that lurked just on the edge. “Stanley, are you alright? You’re not allergic to something, are you?” The Narrator asked, squinting at him. “You’ve got a funny look on your face… ” Stanley couldn’t answer. Stanley was frozen in place. Stanley felt like he might cry. Stanley was unbelievably, overwhelmingly happy. Stanley desperately wanted to stim; to flap his hands out of sheer, overwhelming excitement, wrap his arms around himself and rock back and forth as his heart fluttered in his chest… but obviously he couldn’t, not with a cookie in one hand and a drink in the other. Then a particularly mischievous thought crept its way into his head, very softly, on tiptoe… and Stanley bit his lip. He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. He did. Stanley tore into the cookie like he was starving to the point of near-death; alternating between it and the milk in desperate gulps, crumbs falling between his fingers. He devoured the snack without any regard for table manners, office etiquette, or anything vaguely resembling human dignity - and he relished every single precious, visceral second of it, ending his frenzy with an utterly contented sigh. He stimmed gently, touching the backs of his own hands, enjoying the moment... “You, ah, must have been… hungry.” Then Stanley turned towards The Narrator. The smile fell from his face. And it may as well have shattered into pieces on the floor, from what he saw. The Narrator looked… pale. Almost like he was about to faint. Almost like he was expecting to get the worst news he’d ever heard in his life; news which would break his heart in such a way it would never heal right, and he’d carry this moment’s phantom pain for a lifetime. And Stanley, somehow, could tell clear as day what he was thinking… much like The Narrator seemed able to read his thoughts sometimes… In his obsessive quest to get his perfect ending, had he let his protagonist starve? <NO, NO!> Stanley shook his head, waving his hands in protest. He hadn’t been hungry, not at all! He knew he hadn’t been hungry in a long time and that had never really bothered him! After all, as The Narrator’s very important and heroic Protagonist, he’d had no shortage of very important and heroic things to do! But… Looking at the remaining chocolate stains on his shaking hands, he couldn’t deny, something else inside him had been absolutely ravenous. Something that had been so, so hungry, and was so, so thankful to be finally fed. With that hunger finally sated, there was a warm feeling curled up cozily inside him, like a purring cat on his chest. …It was almost like… “Like when you put your hand on me for the first time.” mused The Narrator, distantly. “You’re not hungry, but you haven’t tasted anything in hell knows how long… ” <And you haven’t, either!>, signed Stanley, a desperate, sympathetic look on his face. <Didn’t you ever make anything for yourself??> “I suppose the thought just never really occurred to me…” The Narrator sighed dejectedly, his face still a picture of regret. “I mean, I’m honestly surprised I even remembered how food tasted at all, but… knowing you were deprived of that joy… ?” Uh-oh. Stanley knew that look on The Narrator’s face; he only got that look when he was about to have another ‘crisis’, remembering or realizing something awful that sent him into a spiral of self-loathing and hopelessness. Sometimes he’d even ‘unload his model’ and disappear for what felt like hours, leaving nothing but the distant sound of sobbing; or worse, a horrible, yawning chasm of silence. Stanley reached out, gently taking the Narrator’s glove-hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb; just like The Narrator did for him, when he felt overwhelmed. He just wanted him to be alright, please just be alright, but those big plastic eyes still looked so sad... “Oh, Stanley… you didn’t deserve that… ” The Narrator closed his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but Stanley listened to the sound and speed of his breathing, trying to gauge his mood, his emotions, trying to somehow figure this out and make him be alright again. Somehow, he had to try to take The Narrator’s focus off the idea that he’d hurt him… he needed to… he needed to sign something to snap him out of it, maybe? It was worth trying, if it meant even a slim chance of breaking the terrible, slowly rising tension. <Can you make more?> Not to mention the anxiety he himself was struggling to keep at bay; that maybe this time would be the time The Narrator wouldn’t come back. That he’d be alone again. And that it would be his fault somehow. “I… wait, what was that? Didn’t quite catch-” Stanley smiled excitedly; The Narrator had his eyes open again - and what was more, the stars had somehow aligned and fate had weaved its threads to grant him an idea! <You can make anything! You made the Memory Zone! You made the Baby Game! You even made me fly through space! So different kinds of food should be easy, right?> A cheeky little smirk crossed his face. <...Or is it too hard for you?> “WHAT?? Too HARD?!” The Narrator huffed, getting so riled up it almost looked like the liquid in his stomach was bubbling, boiling like a kettle. “Too hard indeed! What, do you think a vast, sprawling imagination like mine is restricted to mere snacks? That the depths of my wildest dreams contain no more than simple, infantile finger foods!?” Stanley relaxed his shoulders. Ah, much better; all he’d had to do was push the right buttons, and there was no more cringing, shrinking, or apologizing! The loud, proud, pompous voice that he adored was back! Though he’d have hardly called a chocolate chip cookie like that one ‘infantile’... “I mean after all, this is my story! And even if it is irrelevant to our ultimate goal, well, isn’t the journey just as important as the end? Is it not important to let our heroes breathe? To let them laugh, and love, and feast??” Stanley watched excitedly; The Narrator was gesturing energetically, pointing his finger in the air. He’d learned from their time together - that is, actually together, now that he could actually see him - that meant he was on a roll. And that always led somewhere interesting. “Well we shall feast! In fact, we shall have a veritable buffet!” Stanley snorted and bit his lip as he tried to keep a straight face; he’d pronounced it ��boo-fay’, with a great amount of dramatic flair, which tickled him terribly. But he allowed him to continue… “Yes, a collection of culinary concoctions and creative cuisine! I see it now… there’ll be appetizers that delight and entrance! Entrees and side dishes, rivaling the banquets of kings! Desserts and patisserie to make you weep sugary tears of joy! Cocktails! A cheese course! Little things on sticks! Yes, yes, it’ll be fantastic! Stupendous, even! In fact, it’ll be-” …Until Stanley bravely put one hand on The Narrator’s shoulder, his gaze suddenly steely and determined. This could be his only chance he’d ever get for The Narrator to go along with an idea of his in its entirety. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it now - and he did, signing with his free hand. “A picnic in the Memory Zone… ?”

[headphonemouse]

Ch. 375-396

Ch. 375

"I…" I forced a smile and spoke up. "…I'm sorry that I came so late, Sooyoung-ah."

AUUU

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Ch. 380

⸢"You said that you'll stay with me! You said that you'll become my guardian, didn't you?! I really loved the scenario you've shown me. I can't let you go like this! I…!!"⸥

⸢"My bad, Yuri."⸥

Blood bubbled out of her mouth and she staggered unsteadily before collapsing on the ground. I hurriedly held her in an embrace. Most likely, there was a war being fought between Han Sooyoung and Yuri di Aristel inside this body right about now.

Not enough people talk about this scene

"I'd like to say something, but it seems that someone else will do that for me, instead." "What?" Right in that next instant, fiery pain shot up from the back of my head. "Hey, Kim Dokja!" I looked back to find a familiar grinning face waiting for me. "Everything's screwed up because of you!" Han Sooyoung brushed her hair lazily and sat upright, before smacking me in the head once more.

I just liked this passage.

When Lee Hyunsung and Jung Heewon stood on my sides, the threatening air pouring down on me softened by a good deal. I felt reassured with the greatest sword and shield gathered in one place like this.

It must have been ridiculous seeing the First Prince and revolutionary leader, the Swordmaster and 9th Circle Magician Queen, two seasoned knights and the Fourth Prince with average stats at 10 points walk into this room

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Ch. 382

…Could she have landed in this place all alone?

"Shin Yoosung?"

A boy pushed his head out from among the scrap metal like some kind of a baby octopus.

"Lee Gilyoung?"

Feeling happy now, she shifted her gaze over there, but then, the figure of woman leapt out from the piles of rubbish while stepping on the boy's head.

Aww she felt happy to see Lee Gilyoung. Fellow baby cephalopods

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Ch. 385

"Kim Dokja… He's a hardcore bastard, alright. He might be the only idiot who'd come up with something this crazy as a solution in situations like this one."

"He's originally like that."

"It's the same story for you, too! You two are so damn similar."

At her rebuke, Yoo Joonghyuk retorted with a curt tone of voice. "You aren't that different from us, either."

"Whaaat? I'm different from you two idiots. Anyway, let's stop yapping and get cracking already."

This scene, I wanna compare it to this one in ch. 427

I could guess who the Scenario Master was already. Well, there could ever be only one person capable of coming up with such an out-there story in <Kim Dokja's Company>, after all.

All these crazy plans, only one only two only THREE people are crazy enough to come up with them. There are other passages like this but I can't be bothered to find them.

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Ch. 389

[For the eternity of all scenarios and their epilogue!]

HUH?! WHAT'S THIS UNDERWORLD JUDGE DOING JUST SAYING THAT BEFORE HE'S EVEN REVEALED HIS ■■

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Ch. 396

In that brief moment, the gazes of these two met each other. ⸢"Everyone knows how to deal with Demon Kings, right?"⸥ They carried the same pain, and they lived with the same hurt. They had lost people they cared about right before their eyes. ⸢"Let's begin the final scenario."⸥ They had failed to save their companions many times over. And that was why they could never turn their backs on the people dying right in front of them. The lives they had lived so far made sure of that.

Kdj really ethereal dead wife-ing it up here. Like. Isn't he the only companion they ever lost?

She then grasped her sword tighter, planning to help Lee Hyunsung. But then, right at that moment… …A chilling premonition tickled her entire figure. She had never felt such a thing before in her entire life. Not even when she was about to lose Kim Dokja in the [Dark Castle], not when she lost him one more time back in the 73rd Demon Realm, and then… "Heewon-ssi! Get down!!"

HE REALLY IS THE ONLY ONE THEY THINK ABOUT WHEN THEY REMEMBER LOSING PEOPLE GKSHEBFKW

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

I posted 1,399 times in 2022

That's 1,051 more posts than 2021!

620 posts created (44%)

779 posts reblogged (56%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@karamelcoveredolicity

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I tagged 1,365 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#elvis - 427 posts

#answered - 411 posts

#elvis 2022 - 329 posts

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Longest Tag: 133 characters

#also a psa to everyone whether youre into dudes or not there is nothing more comfortable than sleeping in an extra large men's tshirt

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

🍁 Autumn & Halloween Prompt List 🎃

It's about to get spoopy up in here. We wanted to do something special not only to celebrate everyone's favorite season but also to honor the amazing writers and creators on Tumblr.

Most of us are creators of some kind — whether that be writers, gifmakers, or artists — and this time of year is hard. We start running into fatigue + the scariest thing during the whole Halloween season: creator's block.

✨ Cue the prompt list ✨

This prompt list is split into three groups: dialogue, scenario, and NSFW prompts. Each section has 31 prompts which are sorted with more general autumn themes first and Halloween-specific prompts after that.

A HUGE HUGE thank you to Shawni (@austin-butlers-gf), Sage (@fangirlwithasweettooth), Kenzie (@fangirl-imagines), & Gabby (@dontbesussis) for helping to create this lovely list!

Feel free to reblog + use for whatever it is that you create and post here on Tumblr! Happy Halloween and enjoy 👻 ♥️

DIALOGUE

[ prompts with / indicate that both characters A + B have lines ]

“You have a leaf in your hair.”

“You’re shivering.”

“Why don’t you take off that mask? I’d like to see your face.”

“You’re scared of that, really?”

“That’s your favorite candy? You have shit taste.”

“Promise not to laugh at me if I scream.”

“My friend abandoned me at this Halloween party and I don’t know anyone. But you look as miserable as I feel.”

“If you can’t summon flames directly from hell, store-bought is fine.”

“It says take one, love.”

“Well…you grabbed my hand first.”

“Oh, I see. Is someone a little scared?”

“I spent so long in the darkness I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.”

“You’re the devil in disguise.”

“Nice try. You’ll have to work harder to scare me.”

“I know you’re trying to be scary, but you’re just way too cute.”

“I couldn’t find a costume, so I just decided to go as your [partner/bf/gf].”

“You’re a scaredy cat.” / “I am not!”

“Boo!” / “You were scarier with the mask off.”

“What are you supposed to be?” / “It isn’t obvious?”

“Ew candy corn?” / “What? This candy is hated for no reason. It’s good!”

“That kind of scared me.” / “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

See the full post

514 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#4

My Bestest Girl

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: No

Prompt: You have a nightmare but your husband is always there to comfort you when you need him. Feat. a spicy ending. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: mentions of sex

Rating: Pg-13     ||     Word Count: 1030

A/N: I swear this morphed into like 3 different things as I was writing it. Part 2...maybe? Smut is coming cause i can't control myself, i just don't know when 😂

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You’re running like you’ve never run before. One foot replaces the other faster than you can even think and you feel a pain from somewhere, but you can’t place it exactly. Your chest heaves and you feel panic spreading throughout your body. The darkness around you starts to cave in. There are no walls, but you feel them crushing down on you anyway. Although you try to push them back, they only come faster. The horrific, distorted face of someone you don’t recognize appears floating in the darkness, and your heart lurches as-

Suddenly, you’re awake, sweating and shaking a little in the bed. It takes a moment for you to return to reality and remember where you are and that you’re safe.

“Baby?” Elvis’ deep, smooth voice comes out raspier than usual. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

You curl your arms around your knees, and your husband leans up. The bed shifts under his weight as he scoots toward you and wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“What’s the matter, baby girl?” he asks again, rubbing your shoulder and tucking some loose hair behind your ear.

You look at him in the dark. His blue eyes peer tenderly back, his eyebrows knitted in concern. Although his hair is disheveled, he still looks as handsome as the day you married him. Something in the way he’s gazing so intently at you draws your tears out. You fall back into his arms and start to sob. The cold air in the bedroom freezes your tears as they trickle down your cheeks. His grip loosens and then retightens to bring you all the way into his lap, and you bury your face into his shoulder. His skin is warm and smooth, and you feel terribly guilty for wetting his beautiful chest with your ugly tears.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispers, rubbing your back. “Come ‘ere and let me hold ya. Everything’s gonna be aright. Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

You let your body go limp in his strong embrace, and you feel completely supported. The way he rubs your back and squeezes you just a little too tightly makes you feel like nothing in the world would dare try to hurt you. He presses a few kisses to your sweaty forehead. As you heave to a normal breath, Elvis leans back and moves your hair out of your face so he can see your eyes.

“You’re my bestest girl, you know that?”

“I thought your mama was your bestest girl,” you sniffle with a small smile.

Elvis smiles back, wipes a stray tear from your cheek, and then shakes his head.

“She’ll always be my first girl, but you became my bestest girl the day I married ya,” he says, and you smile so hard it hurts. “Now, tell me what’s goin on. D’ya have a nightmare?”

You nod.

“What about, baby girl?”

“I was trying to run away from something and it wasn’t working,” you say, feeling tears well up again. “I couldn’t see exactly what it was but I just know I was terrified of it. As I was running, the hallways started to get smaller and smaller like they were squeezing me to death.”

“Well that don’t sound like fun, baby. But hey, look,” he responds, taking your hand in his. He flips your palm so that it’s facing the ceiling and curls his own fingers over yours. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for ya. Ain’t nothing gonna hurt you while I’m here.”

He squeezes your fingers and smiles down at you. You glance up at him in the moonlight and gently touch his cheek. He leans into your hand, and you brush the lines around his smiling mouth with your thumb. You pull him toward you and press your lips to his. As you kiss him, his arm snakes around your back and pulls you against his chest. You wind your hands around his neck and back, spreading your fingers to absorb as much of his warmth as possible.

He pulls back for a moment to gaze into your eyes before kissing your cheek and your neck. He brings you into a big bear hug. Your legs reposition to hug his waist, and you throw your arms over his shoulders. As you squeeze out your stress, he peppers kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

You feel him kiss the top of the strap of your nightgown and then pause. You turn to look at him. He stares at the strap with an angry expression for a moment before quickly moving it out of the way, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder, and putting it back. He nods as if he’s pleased with the job he’s done. You throw your head back to laugh, but he takes the opportunity to assault your undefended neck with kisses. His breath tickles your skin, and you giggle, playfully trying to push him away. After a few moments, he stops, kisses your jaw sweetly, and meets your eyes.

“You feelin any better?” he asks, and you nod enthusiastically.

“Much. Thank you. I love you,” you respond in a whisper.

See the full post

545 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

#3

ASG - Part Two: Burnin' Love

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: Yeah, by me 💀

Prompt: Elvis sweeps Bird outside to the lake to cool down on a hot day. Spoiler, she doesn't cool off, but it’s not the temperature that has her sweating. [ Fem!OC ]

TW: Nothing tbh? this is vanilla af

Rating: M     ||     Word Count: 4442

A/N: this might be my favorite smut that i've ever written...

This is Part 2 of ASG. Find the rest of the series here!

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

She happens to be passing through the living room when a knock on the door comes. She's suddenly very pleased to be the one who opens it since Elvis is standing on the other side. It's been a week or so since their little walk and they've managed to see each other a couple of times. Mostly, he would walk her home after work. Paranoid that someone would see her and tell her father, Bird hasn't let anything happen that would have been too scandalous. Elvis respects her wishes and she appreciates it.

“Elvis?”

“Hi baby, how ya doin’?” he asks, smiling and stepping inside the house.

She curls her fingers into her palms and then grabs him by the shirt sleeve.

“This a nice house ya got he-”

He cuts off when she harshly drags him into a corner of the room, behind a bookcase.

“Thank you, but I’d appreciate it if ya didn’t alert my daddy your presence,” she responds, glancing out from behind a stack of books to see if her father is anywhere near. When she swivels back around, she jumps back at how close Elvis is to her face.

“Why not, baby girl?”

His arms wind around her waist and start to pull her toward him. She sucks in a breath and clenches her jaw, trying to keep his hands off her.

“Because he’ll probably kill ya,” she responds, glancing around again. “He don't like greasers or singers. Or anyone who ain't a devout Christian.”

“Well good news for ya daddy, I am a devout Christian.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Not nearly devout enough for my daddy. ”

“Well if we ain’t gonna have any fun in this house, let’s get outta here then,” he says, nuzzling his face into her neck. She stifles a giggle.

“Stop that! What would we even do?” she asks.

“We could go for a walk,” he says, kissing her jaw, “or look at the record store,” he kisses her neck, “I don’t care where we go as long as I’m with you.”

She finally manages to release him from her neck and smile.

“It’s too damn hot for all that,” she replies, feeling a streak of bold lust. “We could go down to the lake? That oughta cool us off.”

“Ain’t nothing in the world that could cool you off, mama.”

“Just go,” she says, flushing. She pushes him toward the door. “Before daddy sees you. Or worse, sees me with you.”

See the full post

563 notes - Posted July 3, 2022

#2

ASG - Part Four: All Shook Up

Character/Fandom: Elvis - ELVIS (2022)

Requested: yes! - anons

Prompt: When Gladys Presley invited Bird up to Graceland to work as a cook in the house, she had mixed feelings. But in order to support herself and your daddy, she moved up to Memphis anyway. Things have been awkward between her and Elvis, but strange things are happening every day and, not surprisingly, Elvis has her all shook up again. [ Fem!OC ]

TW: Angst, smut, cursing, a little physical aggressiveness + i think that's it!

Rating:  M, this is good stuff baby  ||     Word Count: 16,293 🥴

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE!! I have never worked harder on a fic tbh, and the dialogue in this one hits so hard. Yes, the one part is inspired by that scene in Dirty Dancing — you know the one. Sorry for taking FOREVER, but I really hope y'all enjoy it!

This is Part 4 of ASG. FInd the rest of the series here!

🦋 mila

This is a BIG boi + it’s special, so pls read these notes:

This is super long, so I put little PAGE BREAKS in places where you can pause reading. Please take advantage of them!

Deadass made a PLAYLIST to enhance your reading experience. It's in order + should flow with the plot. But depending on reading speed, it might be off, and that's totally okay! If you want the true experience, I've written where to jump + play certain songs in the fic. This is obvi totally optional!!!

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“I jus don’t know what to do bout it,” Gladys says, running a hand over her face. “They’re makin fun of my baby all over town. And probably all over the country, too.”

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Presley,” Bird responds, taking a bowl of something warm from her fingers. “I can always go back home if this is a bad time.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, honey,” she replies in her thick southern drawl. “We love havin you over. You don’t know how nice it is to have another woman in this damn house.”

Bird smiles painfully as she watches Gladys reach for a beer.

A lot has happened since Elvis had broken Bird's heart and left her sobbing on the floor of her house in Louisiana. It was almost five months later when she received a call from Gladys Presley. She had been shocked to hear a familiar voice on the other end of the line. She’d called to ask if Bird wanted to come up to Memphis and move in with the family. One of their cooks had quit and Gladys couldn’t find anyone who cooked southern-style food the way she liked it. Bird knows she'd taken quite a liking to her. Whenever Elvis had brought her home for dinner, just a handful of times, Bird was always willing to help.

Anyway, she did always have a knack for cooking, especially those delicious southern-style comfort dishes. She had originally refused, but when Gladys called twice more and offered to pay Bird handsomely, it wasn’t really a conversation anymore. She and daddy were struggling after he turned to alcohol for comfort and wasn't working as much as usual. Bird had picked up an extra job at the diner in town while still working at the hayride. She'd been working herself to death, but with the Presley’s money she can help support herself and her father without having to break her back.

Plus, she’d offered.

Bird is always incredibly nervous about seeing Elvis, especially after everything that has happened. But she didn't know what else to do. It was too good of a deal for her. So, she'd packed up some of her belongings and moved up to Memphis, leaving daddy at home by himself.

Mr. and Mrs. Peachtree, the Presley’s neighbors, welcomed her into a small guest house in their backyard. Gladys had offered for her to stay at Graceland, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to bear it. Being so close to him and not being able to have him. It was all too painful, too regretful. And she knew Elvis wouldn’t want her there, anyway.

It really hasn’t been all that bad. The money is good, the amenities are nice, Mr. and Mrs. Peachtree are always warm and welcoming toward her. Gladys has been surprisingly like a surrogate mother in many ways. She’s been protective over her, frequently asking how Bird's getting on at the house and whether the Peachtrees are treating her right. She's even asked how bird's father is a time or two, even though Bird get the feeling Gladys doesn’t like him much. You can’t blame her. She’d even let Bird have a few sips of beer, despite the fact that she was still underage. That’s something her father would never allow her to do, even if you were of legal age.

“I just hope he’s doin aright,” Gladys continues. “That damn Colonel is always tellin him what to do.”

Bird keeps her mouth shut but raises her eyebrows in agreeance. Despite sympathizing with her, Bird doesn't feel like it’s her place to say anything about the family. Not to mention this entire conversation is still a sore spot since she's convinced that the Colonel is the reason for her breakup with Elvis.

“Oh lord they’re home! My poor baby!” Gladys shouts, glancing out the windows.

Speak of the devil, himself. Bird joins Gladys at the window, watching the familiar dark purple 1956 Cadillac Eldorado drive slowly up the path to the house. There has been a crowd outside for hours now, and the noise is driving her crazy.

The dinner isn’t even finished cooking yet, but Elvis and Mr. Presley would be bursting through the front door any minute now. They’re coming back from New York where Elvis had been on the Steve Allen show. Long story short, the performance was a disaster. He’d been put onstage in full-length tailcoats and forced to sing to a hound dog. An actual hound dog.

Bird watched at home with the Peachtrees, squeezing a pillow tightly. She'd felt especially awkward in recent days. She likes the Peachtrees very much, but they are made of old money and she knows they have mixed feelings about the Presleys. Mrs. Peachtree has been adamant that Elvis isn’t the type of boy young girls should be looking up to. And she used his “Hound Dog” performance as ammunition to prove her point. Bird bites her tongue whenever the Peachtrees begin to badmouth him. And she pretends not to know about all of the rude things the other neighbors whisper about the Presleys behind their backs.

Just as the car parks, Bird quietly dips back into the kitchen to help Alberta, the other cook, with the rest of the food. But mostly to avoid Elvis. She does that a lot nowadays, avoiding, and she doesn't even want to think about the first time he’d discovered her at the house. Apparently, Gladys had neglected to tell her son that his ex-sweetheart would be coming up to work in the house.

See the full post

645 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

ASG - Part One: A Southern Gentleman

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: No, but it is deserved

Prompt: Bird's old friend, Elvis, looks a lot different than she remembers - a lot hotter, that is. Can she control herself as he walks her home like a good southern gentleman? [ Fem!OC ]

TW: None!

Rating: Pg-13     ||     Word Count: 1484

A/N: He's obviously not dating Dixie in this version. Damn...I really don't know what to do with myself. I used to have a crush on Austin a long time ago, but it's been rekindled like 2 million times stronger. Austin w/ dark hair just hits different 😩

This is Part 1 of ASG. Find the rest of the series here!

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

She’s folding an extra towel in the wings of the stage when a flash of pink silk catches her attention. She glances up just long enough to see a guitar and a pair of fancy black and white shoes. She shrugs, going back to finish her work and thinking nothing of it for the time being.

“He’s a young singer from Memphis, Tennessee,” the announcer’s voice booms around the building. “Give a warm hayride welcome to a Mr. Elvis Presley.”

Her head snaps up when she hears the name. Elvis?? She had gone to elementary school down in Mississippi with a boy named Elvis. It couldn’t possibly be the same boy…could it? She hurriedly finishes folding up the towels she’s working on and quietly sneaks behind the edge of the stage curtains. As she peers out at the tall young man standing at the microphone, she’s sure it can’t be him. The little boy she had known was blonde, skinny, and bony.

“It goes something like this…” the singer mumbles into the microphone. He continues to mutter a little bit of a song.

“Get a haircut, buttercup!” yells a man from the crowd.

Before she gets a chance to think again, he begins to sing. Like…really sing. His voice is strong and forceful, like nothing she’s ever heard before. She watches from the wings and can’t help but smile as he wiggles, dances, and moves around on the stage. His voice is incredible, deep and smooth. But the way his body moves, she has never seen anything like it before. Some girls in the crowd begin to holler, scream, and yelp. she bites her own lip and holds back a smile as she watches the silky pink fabric dance along his body.

Not before long, the entire crowd of women is leaning toward the stage and shrieking. As he reaches back into the crowd, some of the girls even pull at his clothes and the pink suit jacket lifts off his frame. As he stumbles back behind the curtains, a woman yells from the crowd. Bird peers around the curtain and catches a second’s glimpse of her: an older lady with dark hair. She knows this woman. She’s seen her before...

The sound of laughter near her catches Bird’s attention and her eyes land on the back of the singer’s frame as he walks away. Before she can stop herself, she speaks up.

“Elvis??” she asks, gripping the curtain tightly.

The tall figure pauses for a moment before a handsome face emerges from the shadows. She can’t help but smile. The moment she meets his sea blue eyes, the recognition spreads across his face. He lets out a breathy chuckle and smiles sweetly.

“It really is you…” she mumbles.

“Bird?? It can’t be…” he asks in a voice deeper than she expects. She releases her death grip on the curtain and reaches down to smooth her skirt.

He hands his guitar off to a bandmate and walks toward her. As he comes closer, she can smell him – a mix of sweat, musk, and something sweet like cinnamon. It’s almost intoxicating. She reaches out to steady herself on a table.

“What the hell are you doin’ up here?” he asks.

“Daddy got transferred up ‘ere, so we moved. I work 'ere,” she responds. “What are you doin up here? I almost didn’t recognize ya. You were blonde last I saw.”

“Yeah,” he replies, dropping his head to rub the back of his neck. A few strands of dark black hair fall over his forehead, and she has the urge to brush them away but she resists. “Well, how bout you, I mean, you’re all grown up now. Look at ya…”

She flushes as he gestures at her body. He leans on the wall near her, positioning his body diagonally. She takes a deep breath, quickly glancing at his flexing bicep. He tilts his head to look at her, and she catches his eyes tracing her figure up and down.

“You’d better get going, Bird,” one of her coworkers says as they pass by. “Your daddy won’t be happy if you get home late again.

“Oh damn,” she mutters, glaring through the cracked glass of her old wristwatch. “Well…I’d better start back. You 'member how daddy is.”

As she turns to reach for her sweater, his hand catches her wrist.

See the full post

647 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[folklorebae]

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐀𝐔 - 𝐀 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐀𝐬 𝐀 𝐊𝐨𝐝𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐆𝐟 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 <– Just in case you haven't seen it

Cast(s): Timeskip!Kenma & Singer!Reader

Cw: Still the same as before, reader is using she/her pronouns and swearing

A/n: Honestly, I want to post more pics but tumblr has limits (10 pics per post). So yeahh, I hope you guys enjoy this<3

Liked by kodzuken and 1,656,974 others

yourinstagram But would they write a song for you?

View all 17,366 comments

jeffthemanager Ok but what happened to "It's just gonna be a short vacation. I'm taking a break, I won't sing nor write a song."?

↳yourinstagram Well... I can't sit still while my lover is breathing next to me?!?

↳ynsmirrorball SCREAMING, CRYING, THROWING UP. I NEED TO FIND MYSELF A GIRLFRIEND LIKE YOU

↳ynandkodzukenpost CAN YOU STOP THIS AND TELL US WHEN THE WEDDING IS?!?

rosalia.vt And the GRAMMY'S goes to *drum rolls* the queen herself, Y/N L/N!

↳yourinstagram Shut up you literally one of the best artists😡

Liked by kurootetsurou and 1,493,745 others

kodzuken Not the best, not the worst either, 7/10 from me. If you work harder, you'll be a great pâtissière @yourinstagram

View all 32,890 comments

yourinstagram Looks good and tastes good. You just a hater🙄

antiyn2 @yourinstagram you called him "my lover" yet he dissed your cook, he doesn't love you lol. The worst PR relationship.

↳kodzuken How about a nice big cup of shut the fuck up? So you could stop talking shit about one of the most amazing women in my life and my relationship with her.

↳ynandkodzukenpost YES PERIODT.

↳kodzukenfan4 Have a good night on the internet lol @antiyn2

13,863 likes

ynupdate Hinata Shoyo, a Japanese volleyball player, talked about Y/N on a magazine.

View all 106 comments

ynfan6 Wait he's the same guy that played with kodzuken the other night, right? Is "My Friend" referred to him?

↳itskodzuyn I don't think so, he hates crowded place

ynfan7 Y/N could be pretty random sometimes. Didn't know she's friends with an athlete from Japan😳

Liked by yourinstagram and 3,949,173 others

kodzuken Well I just wanna say, happy weekend everyone

P.s. If you see me and her at a tourist attraction, it's not a date, I'm her tour guide

View all 29,645 comments

yourinstagram Idk why people shipping or hating us. While the only relationship we have is tour guide–tourist😩

↳kodzuken Couldn't agree more

↳ynandkodzukenpost OH MY GOD I'M UNSTANNING YOU TWO

↳kodzuynupdate I'm calling my lawyer this is a public corruption

thekodzukenpost NOT EVERYONE MAD IN THE COMMENT SECTION LOL. Anyways, can we appreciate the fact he just posted a picture of his lovely gf.

59,865 likes

itskodzuyn @yourinstagram and @kodzuken a few days ago out and about in Shibakoen. Didn't know a tourist could be this close with their tour guide😬

Cr: a fan from dm

View all 1,419 comments

ynfan7 This you? @yourinstagram

yourbestfriend GIRL– LMAO LOOK AT THIS @yourinstagram

↳yourinstagram ASDFGHJKLZX I'm exposed by my own fan😭

↳itskodzuyn OKAY WHAT THE HELL?!? Y/N FUCKING L/N JUST COMMENTED ON MY POST?!?!?

↳ynfan8 OMG IF I WAS YOU I'LL PUT THIS ON MY CV. Experience: got noticed by Y/N L/N

Liked by conangray and 5,937,364 others

yourinstagram I just realized I haven't posted myself in a while. So pls enjoy these pictures that my boyfriend took.

View all 48,639 comments

bokutokoutaro You said you'll come to Osaka? I see you're getting comfortable in Tokyo😕

↳yourinstagram AHAHAHA I promise I'll be there next week

ynsflower @kodzuken Is your girlfriend single?

↳ kodzuken Absolutely not, go find someone else

25,856 likes

kodzuynupdate I'm not hacked y'all

View all 427 comments

ynandkodzukenpost LMAO WTH IS THIS???

↳kodzuynupdate Just a lil announcement from me😌

kodzuken This fandom only gets weirder. I blame you @yourinstagram

↳yourinstagram ME?!?

↳kodzuynupdate WHAT THE– GOODBYE I'M GONNA MISS YOU ALL! R.I.P ME💀

Tag: @darkreymbow

[artemiseamoon]

Prelude 1: Alessa Quinn

Part of The Depths of Darkness

A hemlock grove + original idea au

All chapters

Words: 427 | Credit to GIF owners

Main characters: Roman Godfrey, Det. Eric (Godfrey) Dresden, Det. Alessa Quinn (ofc)

Chapter specific warnings: none (see ‘all chapters’ link above for general fic warnings)

Summary: a glimpse into Alessa life right before the case. Next chapter will be Eric’s.

As Alessa stands outside, she slowly savors the wine in her glass. This was one of the perks of coming back home, access to the best wine in New York State.

“Hows my little sister?”

Alessa stands to her left, also looking ahead at the house where the dinner party rages on.

“Ha, you seem to forget I’m older than you by two years.” Alessa raises her brows.

Audra playfully taps her on the head, “but you’re so tiny. I’m really the oldest.”

Laughing , Alessa looks up at her, “look just ‘cause you came out all supermodel tall doesn’t change the facts. Two years.”

Audra shrugs, “Ey, what's years anyway? I still tell everyone you’re my little sister.”

“Of course you do.” Alessa replies, still grinning. By now she was used to it.

Audra shifts her weight to one leg and holds her wine glass to her lips, “look at him. He just loves all the attention doesnt he?”

Alessa’s eyes travel the crowded room through the glass windows. She evenatully focuses on her father. He must be telling a story, again, and his friends very happily surround him and listen.

On the other side of the room their mother has her own social circle, they seem to be chatting away about something that has everyone interested.

Alessa scoffs, “Well, a leo man…”

The comment makes Audra laugh, “ did you see mom's new cookbook?”

Alessa nods, “Yeah, of course, it’s great, “ she smirks to herself, “ I only came for the food, and wine.” She holds up the glass.

They clink them and turn to face eachother.

Audra drums her fingertips against the glass in her hands. “Dad asked me to make something, before you got here..”

“God I hope you declined. I made a meal infront of him once, I’ll never do it again.”

Audra sucks her teeth, “tell me about it. And yes. I’ve learned my lesson, I declined.”

Alessa soothes her hair over her shoulder with her free hand, “The Quinns, what a standard to live up to…” she stops and rests her head agains her sister's shoulder, “winemakers, top of their class, 5 degrees between them, chefs…”

She trails off, her eyes drift up to the sky. The stars are so close, so bright tonight.

A brief moment of silence passes, only broken when Audra asks a question,

“Dad's still trying to get you to quit?”

Alessa sighs. “Yep, “ she imatates his voice , “your mother and I wish you would do something less dangerous.”

Audra joins in, imitating her mothers voice, “Honey, you have a million options. Why that one?” The sisters laugh together and Audra continues in her own voice, “I knew. The way you watched all those mystery shows and devoured those books. It was clear as day.”

Alessa glances at her sister, “only if they understood me as well as you do.”

“Awww, well, I love you too.”

They share a soft smile and Alessa’s phone goes off.

“Hold on, I got to take this.” Alessa holds up a finger and her sister nods.

Alessa walks off a few steps away to answer the call. She isnt on long. She returns faster than Audra expected.

“The on call part, I dont know how you do it.”

“Ey, you never get used to it but you get used to it, does that make sense?” She puts her phone back in her pocket. “Time for the hard part, telling them I have to split.”

“How about I tell them with you? We can drag Gavin along, he’s like happy juice for them.”

“Oh my god, they are so obsessed with him.”

“ Alright, “Audra drinks the rest of the wine and encourages her sister to do the same, “the plan,” she looks at her in the eyes, “we go in through the side, snatch Gavin, and help you escape.”

“You are a blessing.” A look of relief washes over Alessa’s face.

“I know,” Audra replies confidently and loops her arm around her sister. They head toward the side of the house, arm in arm. “Speaking of work, how's that hottie partner of yours?”

Alessa shakes her head, “ hottie detective is fine.”

The sisters enter the house and move ahead on their plan.

Eric had to get a headstart, since Alessa was hours away, but he’d fill her in once she arrived.

…

All chapters

[alekx]

The Sunday Currently, vol. 2

Belated Happy Halloween, but not really because this is my least favorite holiday :-(

Anyway, I am overdue for an update and I thought of posting a second installment to my own version of Sidda Thornton’s The Sunday Currently series. I needed something I wouldn’t be able to make excuses about, and this was perfect. I don’t need to prepare a lot of photos nor do I need to organize a draft. Just pure updates on my consumption. Here goes…

reading

I am currently reading Jose Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere. Last June, I finally found a copy of the Soledad Lacson-Locsin translation. We all read Noli in high school, but I didn’t pay as much attention back then. Years later, I read Benedict Anderson’s review of this translation as part of my research for “The Spectre of Comparison” when MCAD brought the show to Manila. I liked his notes on the novel, and I’ve been hunting for a copy ever since.

Before this, I finished Alain de Botton and John Armstrong’s Art as Therapy. I am also currently reading Vogue Philippines and currently subscribed to Art & Market. I try to check Katy Hessel’s column on The Guardian though I am not doing a very good job of keeping up. Current unread count as of writing: 427. Nope. Make that 436.

listening

“To You” and “Second Life” by SEVENTEEN, “Maniac” by NCT U (but really it’s just Doyoung and Haechan), “Forever Only” by Jaehyun, and “Designer” by NCT 127 if we go by my Spotify On Repeat playlist as of writing. “To You” is my favorite in Attacca, “Designer” in 2 Baddies, but it’s “Lie Again” that I like the most in Ode to You.

I watched The Link when 127 came here last month and I heard the iconic “Back 2 U” with my own ears. Everyone’s vocals are top notch that night from start to end. Taeil exists, guys, and his voice really sounds like in the songs if not better!!! 127 as a whole is so vocally stable from start to finish, and you get this sense that they really trained so hard as performers.

Sadly, I didn’t get to watch Seventeen’s Be The Sun concert, and I also missed beabadobee’s. Boooo!

Finally, I also gave Greasy Cafe’s TECHNICOLOR a recent listen. I am obsessed with the music video for “Time Bomb” partly because it’s interesting, but also partly because I like Mark Prin and Mew.

watching

I finished half of Gilmore Girls’ second season before taking a break from the series. I also finished Romance is a Bonus Book, which I loved. It’s going on my list of favorites.

I looooooved “Insula” from Fifth Wall Fest. The dance was so electric and the cinematography was just as exciting.

Because I’m reading Noli, I also decided to watch Maria Clara at Ibarra. I love Dennis Trillo as Crisostomo Ibarra and I enjoy Barbie Forteza as Klay. Padre Salvi’s character still gives me the creeps.

I also watch the local adaptation of Start-Up occasionally. I do think Seo Dal-mi could have been played by a different actress.

Lastly, Doctor Who is going to be on Disney+???? Aaaaah! I didn’t really want to get a subscription, but this is making me reconsider.

loving

My skincare routine! I think I’ve found a really good routine and it has been working so well for me for months now.

feeling

…excited, because I’m starting two projects soon that I’m really excited about. One is an actual project thing that I don’t really want to talk about until it’s over and one is a project I’ve been meaning to start for myself, which I also don’t want to talk about until I’ve finished. All you need to know is that I am excited and keeping busy.

[sunshinekookie]

Welcome Home

Pairing:Min Yoongi (Suga) & Reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 427

A/N:hope everyone enjoys this don’t be afraid to request something whether it be reactions or just normal imagines like this

 he looks so smol in this photo help

You sat on the couch shaking your leg in anticipation. You were waiting for your boyfriend Yoongi to get home from tour. You decided to get up and walk around a bit to get off the anticipation. You walked into the kitchen and got a glass of water. Then you heard the door open and a voice say "(Y/N)? I'm home". You set down the cup and ran to the door "Yoongi!" You said hugging him tightly. "I missed you so much kitten" he said wrapping his arms around your waist "i missed you too" you said nuzzling your face in his neck. You both stayed like that for a while then you pulled back a little and kissed each other like you've never kissed before. You both pulled away and rested your foreheads together "I'm so happy you're home" you said "I'm so happy to be home" he said pulling back and kissing your forehead. He walked away from you and grabbed his bags. He walked into the bedroom and you followed "I'm so tired" he said unzipping his bags and unpacking. You came up behind him and back hugged him kissing his back "let's go to sleep then it's pretty late anyway" you said.

 He finished unpacking and went to get in the shower. While he was in there you changed into your pajamas and got into bed. You started to read a book to wait until he came back. You felt the bed shift and a pair of arms come around your waist. Smiled and ran your fingers through his hair. “so tell me about your adventures” you said putting your book down. He mainly told you about the funny things he remembered and the places he went to.  He just kept saying they were so beautiful and how he’s going to take you there one day. Then the topic just kind of turned into a talk about the future. “I can’t wait to take you on vacations and it just be me you and Holly one day” he said tiredly. This was one of the main reasons why you loved tired Yoongi because he just told you whatever he felt and you knew it was true. Every time he gets super tired all he talks about is you and your future together. You smiled at his words and scooted down so he could hold you properly. “I love you so much Yoongi” you said closing your eyes. “I love you too (Y/N)” he said kissing your forehead and closing his eyes as well.

Masterlist // Request

[artsaveslivesinternational]

Michel Montecrossa

Michel Montecrossa from Mirapuri-Coiromonte, Italy; is a visual artist who paints, draws, uses photography and creates film; as well as a philosophical and fictional writer and poet – who is also a musician. Michel has chosen the subject of Heterosexual Privilege for his submission for issue 4 of ASLI Magazine: “Discrimination, Privilege and Stigmatisation”.

  Can you tell us a little about yourself?

My aim in life is to grow in consciousness to a fulfilling completeness.

What is your artistic/creative background?

Based on this aim I chose to become an integral artist that perfects his natural artistic capacities in fine arts, music, literature, movie-making and consciousness-research. I received a good education in these fields through schools and private teachers as well as extensive travels for the study of Eurasian and U.S.A. cultures.

What motivated you to deal with your chosen submission subject?

Out of this formative process a clear and intense certitude about the human potential emerged, a certitude about the fact that a better tomorrow is created by growing and entering into a new consciousness that among many things can change the heterosexual privilege of dominance into a tolerant and creative spiritual & social power for establishing and securing freedom of choice for all sexual expressions and preferences – this would be a step of great cultural importance; liberating in all aspects of human life, hidden and suppressed creative springs.

’Erotic Enrichment Society’ (Freedom Of Choice)’, Mirapuri, 2014, acrylic and ink on canvas, 200 x 100 cm

What is your process when creating?

The process of creating is an evolving and self-creative synthesis of all possibilities with drawing, painting, music, writing and movie making; that are embedded in my state of continuous consciousness-researching.

Who are you influenced by within your artistic discipline?

The artist, musician and consciousness liberation fighter Mira Alfassa.

Who inspires you in general?

The Great Consciousness that can be felt and seen in all creation as well as in all that transcends it.

What causes and world issues are you passionate about, campaign for, volunteer for…?

I have dedicated my life, work and art to help to build Mirapuri, the City of Peace and Futureman in Europe, Italy.

What do the statements “art saves lives” and “art creates change” mean to you?

“Art saves lives” because art connects us to the very principle of life which is consciousness showing us the meaning of life and how to live this meaningful life. For the same reason “art creates change”.

Have your artistic and creative outlets saved your life in anyway and do you think your message within them could help create change in the world?

My artistic and creative outlets saved my life through steadiness and through the message of hope contained in them. It is the message of hope that the world is in the process of a big change and that every action of goodwill can and will accelerate the speed of this change into a new step of evolution giving birth to the Futureman of Joy and Love and the building of the United States of Planet Earth for securing peace and creative world unity.

What are your present and future goals for your art?

The present and future goals of my art are the completion of Mirapuri, the City of Peace and Futureman in Europe, Italy, and to strengthen the spirit of Joy and Love all over the world through freedom of consciousness-growth

’Two Time-Women In a Landscape’, Mirapuri, 27th January 2015, ink on paper, 29,7 x 42 cm

‘Child Of The Mother Of Sex’ Mirapuri, 2012, acryl & wax crayon and ink on canvas, 140 x 100 cm

‘Selfportrait As A Landscape’ Mirapuri, 2013, Acryl on canvas, 100x80cm

‘Girl & Girl’, Mirapuri, 2013, ink and acryl on canvas, 30x118cm

Have you experienced any form of discrimination; and if so what was it based on and how did you deal with this?

As a free and living soul one is always in contact with discrimination which is based on unwillingness to change in harmony with the constant changes of the universe. One can deal with this by being an example for the Joy and Love that come through every step of widening the consciousness, understanding and compassion.

What are your opinions on what causes discrimination?

The cause of discrimination is conservatism and fear. They are the testing-grounds for every new step of evolution so that the new things can prove their effective right and capacity to replace old orders through love, peace, prosperity and security.

What do you do to actively stand against discrimination and have you ever had to intervene as a witness to it?

To be an artist means to actively stand against discrimination by showing the better way of wideness, freedom and love. To follow this way is a constant intervention for the better of all.

What are your opinions on labels and stereotypes?

Labels and stereotypes are reactions of fear. Empathy, humour and joy can transform fear into a happy ‘Let’s play together and have a good time’.

What are your opinions on national identity and in your opinion does nationalism create or deter discrimination?

National identity is good and necessary, if it is an identity that has its goal within a world union, the achievement of unity in diversity where each nation plays its indispensable free and self-determined role in the concert of the United States of Planet Earth and its well-being. Nationalism for its own sake is destructive and discrimination-driven.

How does social privilege affect our world in your opinion?

The true privilege is to know always more and to be able to do always more. If this privilege is activated in a non-egoistic way, it will lead our world in a positive direction.

Have you ever denied your own privilege due to feelings of guilt or misunderstanding?

To be conscious of the soul is a constant source of happiness where there is no guilt or misunderstanding.

Have you ever experienced social stigmatisation and if so what was it based on and how did you deal with this?

Social stigmatisation may come about to learn better how to transform it into higher understanding. So, the best thing is to reach higher understanding.

Have you ever contributed to the stigmatisation of any individual or group, and if so were you aware you did this and how did you deal with this aftermath?

Everything and everyone has a right for existing for some time whether you like it or not. The best thing is to learn from it and thus grow in consciousness so that the wrong things are not repeated and good things become real.

What are your opinions on political powers and world leaders using stigmatisation against certain groups to further their own agendas, such as with Muslims, Black people, LGBTQ individuals, mentally ill and disabled people?

Political powers and world leaders must be there to lead to freedom and unity, to the experience of a progressive world where everything is in its right place and time without quarrel and arrogance, full of goodwill to help each other and ready for the living celebration of humanity.

Do you support or take part in any anti-stigma organisations or charities and if so which ones and why?

I support and take part in the building of Mirapuri, the City of Peace and Futureman in Europe, Italy because it is an important anti-stigma organisation and warmhearted charity project.

In your own words please tell us how you feel the arts and creativity can further help to empower, communicate and educate people with regards to discrimination, privilege and stigmatisation?

Art and creativity are straight roads out of discrimination, false privileges and stigmatisation because they empower you, communicate to you and educate you through the true, the right and the vast of your loving soul.

  ’Deep Space Woman’, Universe Triptych #2, Mirapuri, 2014, acryl on canvas, 100 x 100 cm

‘America Comeback’, Miravillage, 2013, acryl and ink on canvas, 169 cm x 86 cm

When we embrace, Mirapuri.

’The City Of Ideas’, Mirapuri, 2014, wax crayon on paper, 29,7 x 42 cm

If you would like to know more about Michel Montecrossa please follow these links:

Website 

Mirapuri, the City of Peace and Futureman

Michel Montecrossa Blog

Facebook Page

Twitter

– Michel Montecrossa on iTunes

Michel Montecrossa on Vimeo

If you have any feedback on this article please fill in the contact form below:

[contact-form] Artist Michel Montecrossa addresses heterosexual privilege in a new art piece for ASLI Magazine Michel Montecrossa from Mirapuri-Coiromonte, Italy; is a visual artist who paints, draws, uses photography and creates film; as well as a philosophical and fictional writer and poet - who is also a musician.

[alhirschfeld]

4 things to ask yourself before accepting the job offer

Being offered a job can be one of the greatest feelings in the world, especially if you’ve been out of circulation for a while. You’ve worked hard perfecting your application and interview and now all that’s left to say is yes. But wait. Don’t sign the dotted line and pop the champagne just yet. Don’t feel like you have to accept or decline right away. You are in a position of strength. They want to hire you.

Maybe you’re juggling multiple job offers. Maybe a little voice in the back of your head is saying you’re not sure. There is no harm in asking for a bit of time to think it through. Here are 4 things to ask yourself before accepting the job offer.

1. Do I feel passionate about this new job opportunity?

How passionate are you about the work this job would have you do? Don’t get so caught up in how much a job pays or how it might advance your career that you forget to ask yourself this simple question. With passion in your life, you can set off fireworks in the workplace. Without it, you’ll fail to live up to your potential. “Find a job that ignites your passion and enlivens your spirit. One that challenges you and brings a smile to you most days,“ advises Fernando Ortiz-Barbachano, President of Barbachano International and career coach. “It may take some work to find a job like that, but they are out there. Finding a career is a full-time job.“

When we love what we do, we soar. It feels amazing to be inspired by our work. Remember when you were a kid on Christmas Eve and couldn’t wait for it to be morning? You were up long before anybody else. It pays to have that feeling in your work life—to be so excited about what you do that you’re awake at 5:00 in the morning without the alarm. If you answer no to this question, that’s okay! Maybe this opportunity doesn’t fulfill your wildest dreams, but maybe it’s the job that will help get you to the next level of your career.

2. Do I love my new boss and coworkers?

What do you think about the person to whom you’ll be reporting? Is he or she someone you can learn from, and who can help you grow? Conversely, have you met your potential new co-workers? Can you see yourself getting along with them in a professional setting?

No amount of money is worth having to put up with a boss that makes you hate your existence. Employees don’t leave companies—they leave managers. A study from the University of Tulsa says that as many as 7 of every 10 managers may be incompetent, exploiting, domineering, irritable, and untrustworthy. So pay attention! First impressions are often correct impressions. If you end up with someone who’s truly awful, you won’t be able to get out of there fast enough. You’ll pray for jury duty. Wish for a longer commute. Anything to get you out of the office. You don’t want to live like that. We spend far too much time at work to not be happy there.

3. Will I fit in with the company culture?

Culture is one of the most important criteria when evaluating a job opportunity. Considering you work with team members eight hours a day, five days a week, do what you can to find out if the workplace is one you’ll be excited about and the employees are people you’ll enjoy collaborating with. It could make all the difference in your happiness, your work output, and your sense of fulfillment.

The culture may change over time, but probably not fast enough if you find yourself in a situation that doesn’t sit well with you. Know thyself. What’s important to you? How would you describe the environment that best suits you? Fast-paced? Casual? Corporate? Do you picture yourself in a suit and tie? Do you like an environment in which you know your co-worker’s families? What about company picnics and holiday parties? The clearer you are about what you need, the better you’ll determine the right position for yourself.

This is your chance to do some real detective work. Comb through the company’s site. Look at the board and the leadership team. Read the company’s mission and vision statements. Do they take part in philanthropic activities? Investigate the company’s social media. Look at their LinkedIn profiles. Doing all these things can give you an indication of the type of organization you’d like to work for.

4. Why do I want this job?

Back in 2009, Simon Sinek gave the third most popular TED talk of all time. With over 3 million views and subtitled in 47 languages, he popularized the concept of Why.

Sometimes, we do things without knowing exactly why.

Most people know what they’re doing.

They know how they’re doing it.

But most people don’t know why they’re doing it.

It’s the “why” that gives people a source of purpose and inspiration. It’s the “why” that keeps you going when everyone else is burnt out.

What is your why? Listen to your gut. Is it the big paycheck? Yes, money matters. It matters a lot. How nice, you think—I’ll be able to pay my bills, go out to dinner once in a while, and maybe buy a home. Nothing wrong with that. But hold on. Don’t let money distract you. Higher pay doesn’t automatically lead to higher levels of happiness.

Most people work their entire lives in order to save money so that they can one day retire and begin living their life. From this perspective, work is meaningless. There is a better reason to be working: fulfillment.

“Most of us live our lives by accident—we live as it happens. Fulfillment comes when we live our lives on purpose.”— Simon Sinek  

Is this job opportunity going to make you happier? We don’t necessarily find happiness in our jobs every day, but we can feel fulfilled by the work we do because it makes us feel part of something bigger than ourselves. That is your why.

Now, keep in mind—no job is perfect. Be realistic! In a commencement speech to graduates, Oprah told the audience she filmed 4,561 episodes over The Oprah Winfrey Show‘s 25-year run. She said she never missed a single day of filming. She confessed she didn’t always like going to work. “Your job is not always going to fulfill you,” she said. “There will be some days when you just might be bored. Other days you may not feel like going to work at all. Go anyway.”

Any job is a good job if:

        Your boss is not a jerk

        The culture fits your personality

        You can make a living

        You are learning

        You don’t watch the clock

Hopefully, you’ll answer these questions with ease, but if not, take the time to consider the job you’re applying for and why you want it. You might be a good fit for the job, but that doesn’t mean the job will be a good fit for you. It’s awkward if you say yes then change your mind and decline. It’s even worse if you start the job and decide you hate it from the outset. It’s much harder to undo something than it is to take the time to be sure. Remember, it’s okay to decline a job offer if it isn’t the position for you.

Should you need guidance on hiring and recruiting leaders in the Americas (Mexico, Latin America, or the USA), please call us at +1 (619) 427-2310 or email us at barbachano@bipsearch.com.

By: Barbachano Staff

The post 4 things to ask yourself before accepting the job offer appeared first on Barbachano International (BIP).

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