#before you can be giving fashion/beauty advice unsolicited
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
itspileofgoodthings · 5 months ago
Text
me talking side parts vs. middle parts with my 15 year old girls. healing and funny.
7 notes · View notes
tenthgrove · 3 years ago
Note
(Full request) so we all know that la squadra has fashions choices that are very revealing and show a lot of skin, how would they react to their s/o who’s usually very modest in dress because they’re insecure about their body asking them to help them dress more revealing like them so they can be more confident?
Dress-Down Day
La Squadra x Reader (GN), Romantic, SFW
Formaggio- Despite your stark differences in style, Formaggio's never really commented on the modest way you dress. Even still, hearing you want to change it has him happy to help, since he always loves it when you're joyful about new things he gets you. His colours are very bold, but he can't help but dress you up in the cuter tones, even with the more revealing style in mind. You're just so sweet for him, and there's nothing he loves more than showing off his darling to the team.
Illuso- This here is a man so obsessed with showing his stomach he even does so with his winter jackets. Though he appreciates it's a sore spot for you he can't really relate to your need to cover up. When you announce you'd like to dress more like he does, he gives a little chuckle and ruffles your hair. Sure thing sweety. He is very much the sort to just cut things off from your clothes (only to despair when he realises to make it look good you actually need sewing skills) but he isn't opposed to a shopping trip either.
Prosciutto- He may seem the stuffy sort, but Prosciutto really has no problem with showing a little skin, whether it be him or you. After all, confidence in one's body shows confidence in one's self, and the ability to not care about the thoughts of those who don't matter. That's why he has no issue unbuttoning his expensive suit-shirts in the summer sun, and would never bat an eye-lid to you showing more skin as well. You're more than welcome to do it, as long as it's classy. No torn up jeans or anything of the sort. You're more than welcome to accompany him to all the fancy shops so he can show you what he means.
Pesci- Well, this is certainly an unexpected request but if it makes you happy, he'll help! His favourite jumpsuit was actually a gift from Melone, and it took him quite a few wears to get used to it, so he knows how you feel. He encourages you to maybe take it gradually? Start by picking a few clothes a little tighter than your normal ones and then gradually get more revealing things. He's very proud of you for working on your insecurities like this and will damn well chase anyone down the street who dares impede your progress by making crude comments at you.
Melone- Of course Melone appreciates the pressures to have the 'perfect body' in today's society, but you really have no reason to fear! Melone thinks you're absolutely stunning, and he certainly wouldn't worry about what cretins on the street have to say. He's ecstatic when you ask him for help with changing your look- he's always wanted to do this with somebody but no-one has ever trusted his fashion sense before. You'll be surprised at how laid back his suggestions are, given that he knows this is for your confidence. You look pretty damn good, actually.
Ghiaccio- He doesn't like the idea of people looking at his body either, which is why he wears shirts with a long waist as high neckline. He perfectly understands your concerns, but isn't really sure why you would come to him in asking for advice about how to dress more revealingly. Sure, he's not going to stop you, but what help could he be? He's a a little flustered to learn you think that he's actually very fashionable. After that, he agrees to take you shopping very quickly, the complement playing in his mind for the remainder of the day.
Risotto- Your styles might be completely distinct, but Risotto doesn't mind one bit. He is aware that you are having issues with your body image, but he wants you to know that he loves your form very much. You will always be beautiful to him. That said, if you think changing your style might help, he's happy to oblige. Unfortunately, trying out his clothes for reference isn't really an option as they all trail on the floor when you try to wear them, but he still knows all the best places to go for trendy clothing similar to his. The little warm smile he gives you when you come out of the changing room tells you all you need to know about how good you look
Sorbet and Gelato- Well, at least compared to the rest of the group Sorbet and Gelato are hardly revealing in terms of their dress. While they naturally have no issue with you dressing a similar way, having body insecurities changes things and they will frequently encourage you to have more faith in your beauty, since you're truly wonderful to them. Should you decide you want to change your look, they'll be more than happy to help. Though it isn't their particular style, they're very fashion-wise and will be excellent advisors. They see to it that nobody makes any unsolicited comments about your new look.
111 notes · View notes
lemonadegarden · 5 years ago
Note
Love your writing! For a prompt, how about BatCat and #20: “Let’s get out of here.”? :)
here’s some flufffff:
-------------------------------------------------
When Selina walked into his study, she immediately knew Bruce was in a bad mood. A bad mood to rule all bad moods.  
He was sitting at the study, his shoulders tight with tension, frowning at his laptop, and muttering tersely to himself every once in a while. She watched for a while, leaning against the door of the study, amused.
“What,” he said finally, not looking up. Of course he'd have known she was standing there. No one could sneak up on Batman. Except perhaps Cassandra.  
“Dropped in to say hi,” she said, “I'm back from Antigua.”
“I can tell,” Bruce said, taking a sip from his coffee cup. He was even sipping angrily, if that was possible. And he still hadn't looked up.  
Selina smiled, slowly. This was going to be fun.  “Alright then,” she said, flippant. “Well, I said hi. I've been gone for almost a month. If you won't bother to say hi back, I suppose I'll just leave.”
She was halfway out the door before she heard his laptop click shut. “Selina,” he called out.  
She smiled again. Her back was turned to him though, so she rearranged her face carefully, before looking back at him. “Can I help you?” She said, smoothly.  
Bruce rubbed at his eyes. “Sorry,” he said, his voice clipped. He still sounded annoyed.  
Selina hummed, coming round his wide desk, and to his chair. She bent down a little, her arms coming round his wide shoulders. Pressed her cheek against the back of his head. Breathed in the smell of his neck. His shoulders were still tight, but after a second, Bruce sighed and tipped his head back, just a little.
“Hi,” She murmured, against his neck.
“Hi,” Bruce said back, quietly. “I missed you,” he said, turning to kiss her.
“Long day?” she asked, her hand stroking his hair.
“Long week,” Bruce grunted, turning back to his laptop. He opened it. “Meteorite almost hit the watchtower. Shields around it went down. Clark and I had to work almost 72 hours straight to get them back up. And I got shot.”
Selina's head, which had been resting on the crook of Bruce's neck, shot up. “What?” she said.
“Got shot,” Bruce muttered. He pushed back his swivel chair a little, so Selina could see his leg. He was wearing a brace. “Some runner on a street corner, last Monday. Didn't see him during patrol. This is the third time. On that leg.” he sighed, leaning back against her. “I'm getting old, Cat.”
“You should be keeping it up. In bed.”
Bruce just gave her a look. He went back to typing something down on the laptop.  
Selina sighed, pushing herself up onto his desk, nearly spilling his coffee in the process. Bruce glared at her.  
“Oh, shut up, Bruce,” Selina said. Bruce just shook his head, his eyes back on the screen.  
She sat in silence for a moment, watching him as he worked. After a while, she cleared her throat. He went on ignoring her.  
“Antigua was wonderful, thank you for asking,” she said, “I saw a lot of beautiful things, and I managed to steal several of them.”
Bruce sighed. He was still staring at his screen. “Great,” he said. “Now the auxiliary solar panels are covered in debris,” he said, getting up. “Selina, can you tell Alfred I won't be back home until tomorrow morning? It'll probably take the whole night. Oh, and Damian has a school project due the day after tomorrow. I was supposed to help him. It's about the water cycle,” he paused, looking at her, “you know what the water cycle is, don't you?”
She stared at him, incredulous.
“What?” Bruce said.
“Yes,” she snapped, “I know what the goddamn water cycle is. I dropped out of high school, not the fifth grade, Bruce. But I am not helping Damian with his project.”
Bruce looked genuinely confused. God, she wanted to strangle him sometimes. “Why not?” he said, “you said a lot of stuff about wanting to be a part of their lives and–”
“Don't,” she hissed, poking at his chest with her index finger, “make this about that. This is not the same thing. You handing off your responsibility to me doesn't make me a bigger part of their lives so much as making you a little shit.”
Bruce stared down at her finger. “I'm sensing that you're angry,” he said.  
“I've been back for half an hour, after being gone for a month, and you want to leave already? And your leg is injured. Your superhero friends can take care of your precious watchtower. You are going to take care of your leg. And your son's project. And me. You're going to pour me a glass of wine and then we're going to finally get around to watching the second half of Rear Window and then we're going to make out on the couch for a long time. Is that clear?”
Bruce blinked at her.  
“And I don't care if you're in a bad mood,” Selina said, her eyes narrow, “because mine is way worse.”
“Okay,” Bruce said. He blinked again.
“Good,” Selina said, “Enough working. Let's get out of here.”
*
Damian watched curiously, as Selina pasted cut outs of water droplets onto the cardboard panel.
“You're using too much glue,” he said, biting into a cookie. Alfred had made a batch of these chocolate orange ones, that were about as good as crack cocaine.
She gave him a look. “Do you want me to help you or not?” she said.
Damian sighed, shaking his head. “Father never uses that much glue.” He reached his tiny hand into the glass bowl on the middle of the floor, and ate another cookie.
“Father,” Bruce said, sticking a water droplet to the panel, “likes to maintain a good ratio of glued to unglued paper. It should remain glued firmly, but stay dry and relatively non-messy.”
Selina pulled on one of the water droplets Bruce had pasted on. It came off the panel with relative ease. “Shut up, both of you,” she said, giving them both a pointed look.
Damian went back to drawing water evaporating into vapour, looking a little sheepish. Bruce didn't even have the good grace to do that. He just shrugged. He seemed to be getting a real kick out of this, of sitting on the floor of Damian’s room, eating cookies, sticking cut-outs and getting unsolicited advice from his son on how to correctly colour clouds.  
(“You can't just leave them white,” Damian had said bossily, “they're storm clouds. They need to have a little gray near the edges.”)
Bruce was currently trying and failing to colour those clouds. He really was an abominable artist. He frowned at the paper, his brow furrowed. God, Selina wanted to kiss him.
Damian sighed loudly, reaching over and taking the sheet from him. “I'll do it,” he said, “you just stick to gluing.”
“Sorry,” Bruce said.  
“It's all right,” Damian allowed, sagely. “You can cut out the clouds once I'm done, Father.”
“Damn,” Selina said, “but I wanted to cut out the clouds.”
“There's always next time, Kyle,” Damian said, kindly.  “Have a cookie.”
She looked edgeways at Bruce. His mouth had twitched up very slightly. She smiled, taking a cookie.
“Thanks, Damian,” she said, biting in.
*
Bruce's leg was propped up on a footstool. The credits of Rear Window were rolling down the screen. There were two empty bottles of wine and two wine glasses on the coffee table.
“Shit, Bruce,” Selina said, “we missed the second half again.”
“Mmm,” Bruce said, into her neck. “We can rewind.”
Selina turned her head to kiss him again. “We did that last time,” she said, “And we missed it all over again. Remember?”
Bruce was clearly not focusing. His mouth was making a detour from her jaw to lower realms. She pulled away a little, “Remember?” she said again.
He followed her mouth, pulling her back against him. “This would work a lot better if you were on top,” he said, “I'm an injured man.”
“We,” Selina said, “were talking about Rear Window,” she said. He had started to work on getting her blouse off, except that the buttons were posing a bit of a challenge for him. Neither of them were at their peak, hand-eye coordination wise. They had drunk copious amounts of wine.
“It's an excellent movie,” Bruce said. One of his hands was under her shirt, slowly but surely sliding up to her bra. “A pinnacle of filmmaking.”
“How would you know,” Selina said, helping him with her blouse, “We've never made it past the forty minute mark,” there was a long pause, “Okay, I'm just going to get on top.”
“Hallelujah,” Bruce muttered, gripping her waist as she slung a leg over his thighs. She was working on getting his shirt off, when–
“Father?” came a sleepy voice.
Both of them froze. And then Bruce pushed her off him, in a rather brusque fashion.
“Yes?” Bruce said, clearing his throat, “what is it, Damian?”
Damian squinted at them, his hair stuck up in odd angles. He was wearing pajama pants with little rockets on them. “Why are the two of you just sitting in the dark?” he pointed to the TV, which was now blank, “the movie's over.”
“We were,” Bruce paused, “talking.” Selina rolled her eyes.
Damian frowned, rubbing at his eyes, “In the dark?”
Bruce cleared his throat again. There was another long pause. “Yes,” he said, finally.  
“Jesus Christ,” Selina muttered. “Sweetheart,” she said in a louder voice, “can I help you?”
Damian looked fidgety. “Can I switch on a light?” he said.
Selina looked at Bruce. Bruce shook his head, massaging his temples.
“Sure,” Selina said, hastily doing up her buttons. Thankfully they'd only been able to undo three. Collectively. They really were getting old.  
Damian flicked on a light, “I threw up,” he said, his voice small, “twice.”
Bruce frowned. Or maybe he was squinting in the light. “Damian. I told you not to eat all those cookies at once.”
Damian fidgeted some more. “Sorry,” he mumbled. A pause. “My stomach really hurts.”
Bruce sighed. “Come here,” he said patting the space on the couch between him and Selina. Damian ran over, clambering up onto the couch, until he was plastered against Bruce's side. Selina watched, amused. It was strange to see Damian behave like a normal twelve year old.
“Where does it hurt?” Bruce asked, rubbing his son's stomach, “Here?”
“Yes. It hurts everywhere,” Damian said, his voice sullen. “I'm never eating a cookie ever again.”
Bruce snorted. “We'll see about that,” he said. “Do you want a painkiller?”
Damian nodded.
“Alright,” Bruce said, and he left the room to fetch one, leaving Selina and Damian alone in the room.
Damian watched her, clutching his stomach. He looked thoughtful.  
“What?” Selina said.  
“I'm going to throw up again,” Damian said.
Selina sat up. “Oh,” she said, “um, here,” She handed him one of the empty wine glasses from the coffee table.
Damian made a face. Then he set the wine glass back on the table, “Never mind, “ he said, “it passed.”
“Well,” Selina said, “that's a relief. I don't think the wine glass would've worked.”
“Really,” Damian said, his voice dry. He sounded remarkably like his father. It was uncanny. She could almost picture a little version of Bruce running around, ordering caviar and earl gray for breakfast. It made her smile.
“Don't you have school tomorrow, kid?” she said.
Damian made a face. “I'm homeschooled,” He said, “but Father's making me go to a private school next year.”
“Good for you,” Selina said. She didn't know what private schools looked like, but a picture of boys in knee high socks and shorts and little blazers definitely came to mind. Also it was possible that they played polo.
“I hate other children,” Damian said, sulkily, “they're so stupid.”
“That they are,” Selina said, “but in school you get to do all kinds of things, like skip class and get in fights and do drugs behind the bleachers,” she paused, looking at the expression on Damian's face, “or you could just go to all your classes and get excellent grades. It's really up to you.”
“I don't understand how Father found someone like you,” Damian said, shaking his head.
Selina grinned. “I have a sneaking suspicion that that was a compliment,” she said. Damian smiled a little at that, despite himself.
Bruce entered the room with a blister pack and a glass full of water. “What did I miss?” he said.  
“Oh, nothing,” Selina said, “we were just talking shit about you.”
“Language,” both Bruce and Damian said, together.
Selina sighed. “Look what you've done, Bruce. You've brainwashed the poor kid.”
“I'm not brainwashed,” Damian said, indignant, “I'm–– going to throw up,” he said, suddenly.  
Bruce grabbed a wastepaper basket from the corner of the room and handed it to Damian. Selina felt a little stupid for not having thought of that. Oh, well. Whatever.  
She watched as Bruce stroked Damian's hair while he puked his tiny twelve year old guts out.  
“And to think,” she said, “of all the fun you'd have missed out on, if you were clearing space debris from the watchtower's auxiliary solar panels right now,” she said.  
He only looked up at her, the corner of his mouth twitching up. He was patting Damian's back.
“The very thought fills me with dread,” he said.  
Damian retched some more. Selina smiled.
336 notes · View notes
inyournightmares97 · 6 years ago
Text
Unsolicited (3/3) (M)
Jackson Wang is a perfect gentleman and he thinks it’s extremely vital that you understand… that is not his penis.
Warnings: Fluff. Crack? Adult topics, mentions of sexual harassment (but not too serious) and plenty of swearing. College!au. Find the links to earlier parts in the reblog/in my main masterlist! (Also this is unedited but I just have to sleep now and tomorrow is a long day) 
Word Count: 5.1k+
Tumblr media
“Hey, hey, look! This crab looks a little bit like you!” Jackson Wang announced cheerfully, lifting the poor creature into the air. The tiny crab waved its pincers around in a panic and finally sank a pair into Jackson’s thumb. He let out a hiss and dropped the crab. “Ow! It even bit me! That crab is definitely you.”
You sighed as you walked over to him.
Why am I so attracted to this idiot?
“Maybe you should focus on picking up plastic and not tormenting the marine life?” you suggested while Jackson pouted and nursed his thumb. “Let me see that. You’re bleeding. Why would you even pick up a live crab if you didn’t know how to handle it?”
Jackson smiled down at you cheekily as you pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it against his bleeding thumb.
“Cause it looked kind of like you.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure it did.”
“No, you should have seen it! It had this huge frown. See! Exactly like the one on your face right now!” Jackson insisted. You couldn’t help it. The corner of your lip twitched in amusement. You lowered your head and busied yourself with tying the handkerchief around Jackson’s thumb but he had already seen your smile. He fist-pumped his free arm in the air. “Yes! That’s smile number seven! I’m on a roll this morning!”
You looked up at him with a sigh. “Why are you doing this?”
Jackson shrugged. His own smile was bright. “I told you already, I like you. It makes me feel special knowing that you’re laughing because I made you laugh,” he replied simply. You took a deep breath and tried to stop your heartbeat from racing out of control. Jackson kept dropping these extremely sweet lines to you as if they were nothing. He didn’t seem to understand the impact his words had on you.
It was driving you crazy.
“You know what would make me smile a lot?” you asked nonchalantly, once you’d tied up his thumb. “If you picked up a little more plastic and did a little less harm to yourself.”
Jackson nudged you lightly. “Come on. It’s a beautiful day. There’s a lovely breeze, plenty of volunteers turned up to help with the clean-up drive. Even the volleyball team showed up in support. How’s that for a happy ending?”
You narrowed your eyes and glanced at the volleyball team; it was still beyond your understanding how Jackson Wang had turned the Environment Club’s mortal enemies into their allies in less than a day. Then again, Jackson just seemed to have this natural way of charming people. Wonho and Minhyuk were currently picking up soda cans as though they hadn’t been the ones who had dropped them there in the first place.
“How did you manage that?” you demanded.
Jackson blinked. “Oh, I exchanged numbers with Wonho and then I went over to his gym. Jooheon came too. After an intense workout and some smoothies, we were all best buds. Once I told Wonho about the fishies he convinced Minhyuk to come join the clean-up drive.”
You sighed.
“What?” Jackson wondered playfully. “What are you thinking?”
“I can’t decide if men are really that fickle-minded or if you’re just really charming,” you admitted. You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes. “Charming people are usually dangerous. I’ve got my eyes on you, Wang.”
“Great. Let me know if the shirt is blocking your view because I can get rid of that for you.”
You opened your mouth to respond but you were distracted by the appearance of two tall figures crossing the sand. You lifted a hand and waved at Bambam and Yugyeom in surprise. “Hey, guys! I didn’t know that you were going to show up!” you called out cheerfully. You had never imagined that the two idiots would haul themselves over here on a Sunday morning to help clean up but they were already wearing the volunteer tags and all.
Jackson chuckled. “You know those guys?”
“Unfortunately. I invited them here. I told them there would be free beers afterward.”
“Why would anyone hand out free beers at 9am?”
“A question those idiots neglected to ask,” you replied smugly as Bambam and Yugyeom finally reached you. You noticed that Bambam had a skip to his step and he greeted Jackson with a friendly clap on the back. Then he took a deep inhalation of the morning sea breeze and sighed happily.
“Isn’t it a beautiful day?” Bambam sang.
You raised an eyebrow. “Did he-”
“Yeah, Bambam                 finally asked out the girl who walks past the basketball court every day” Yugyeom informed you. “He almost screwed up but he managed to invite her to come to the frat party tonight. Are you coming to the party, Jackson-hyung?”
Jackson turned to you hopefully. “Will you be there?”
You cleared your throat. “Uh, frat parties aren’t really my scene, to be honest…”
“What do you mean, they’re not your scene? Of course they’re your scene,” Bambam scolded you with a pointed look. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and gave Jackson a reassuring thumbs up. “Don’t worry about anything, hyung, I’ll drag her down to the frat house if I have to. She owes me her life considering I came to this stupid clean up drive.”
You shoved Bambam off with a frown. “You haven’t even picked up any trash yet.”  
“I will, give a man a few minutes to settle in for fuck’s sake.”
You sighed and raised an eyebrow at Jackson. “I’m sorry, how did these two guys manage to make it onto your basketball team? Don’t you have some minimum IQ requirement or something?”
Jackson chuckled. “Nope, we just needed tall guys. Besides, I wasn’t the one in charge of decision-making at try-outs. This guy named Jaebum and I are co-captains right now since the old captain dropped out of the team due to an injury. There’s going to be a vote later this week on who’s going to take on the position permanently.”
You blinked. “Oh. Good luck, then.”
Bambam clapped Jackson on the shoulder. “No worries, hyung, we’ve got your back.”
Jackson shrugged. “That’s okay, Bambam. Jaebum is an amazing player and leader too, so you can vote for either of us. It’s not a competition. We just want to see who the team members are more comfortable with so we don’t take an arbitrary decision, that’s all.”
Yugyeom sighed dreamily. “Hyung, you’re so cool.”
You bit your lip as you watched Jackson’s genuine smile. Was it possible that Jackson was really as golden-hearted as Bambam and Yugyeom seemed to think he was? He was so respectful and loving of people in general, and he had an excellent sense of sportsmanship. Jackson Wang was the most charming and easy-going person you’d ever met.
Could he really have harassed Nari and sent her those dick pics?
You were starting to seriously believe that he hadn’t, and that scared you. Was Jackson Wang really the good guy? Or were you so blinded by his charms and attractiveness that you were possibly siding with a sexual predator? You had no reason to believe that Nari had faked those screenshots but your gut was telling that she had. Still. What if your gut was wrong? What if you should be taking Nari’s side and comforting her as a victim?
“Okay, folks. Lots of trash to collect here, let’s stop chatting and get moving!” you announced.
Jackson smiled and gave you a small wink.
“The fishies need us, after all.”
--------------------------------------------------------------
You had seven missed calls from Nari.
She was furious that you hadn’t been answering her calls but to be honest, you didn’t really know what to say to her. Are you sure that you didn’t fabricate those text messages? didn’t seem like something you should be saying to a possible victim of sexual harassment. You didn’t have any proof that she had faked them.
You just really badly wanted to believe that she did.  
Nari: I want another appointment to meet you on Monday, as early as possible. You can’t keep ignoring me.
You sighed and texted her back, telling her to meet you during lunch on Monday. You were waiting for her response when Bambam burst out of your bedroom fully dressed and demanded your attention.
“How do these black pants look? Good? Bad? Should I change?”
You raised an eyebrow. “They look fine.”
He glared at you and placed his hands on his hips dramatically. “You’re worse than Yugyeom. What is even the point of having a female friend if she can’t even give decent fashion advice? Sometimes I wonder why I keep you around at all,” he huffed as he went back into your bedroom.  
You frowned and yelled after him. “You keep me around? This is my apartment, Bambam! You’re the one who barged in here three hours before the frat party with your entire wardrobe saying you wanted to get dressed here!”
Bambam slammed the door shut in response and you rolled your eyes. You knew he was being extra annoying because he wanted to impress this girl. Bambam seemed like a playboy on the surface and he put up a decent front, but when he really liked someone then he got all shy and anxious. You sighed and glanced at the clock. You had somehow gotten roped into attending the frat party as well. The thought of Jackson being there was making you nervous and you wanted to back out.
Bambam burst out of your bedroom in a pair of blue jeans and a rather nice black button-down shirt. You blinked at him in surprise.
“Hey, you look good in that.”
He rolled his eyes. “I look good in everything, bitch. Come on. We’re going to be late to the party.”
You sighed and dragged yourself off the couch.
This is going to be an interesting night.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
There was a reason you hated frat parties and it was a very good one.
You somehow always found yourself standing alone and not knowing what to do with yourself. Bambam would go and flirt around with every woman in sight and within a few hours he’d have disappeared to a bedroom upstairs. Once Yugyeom got a little tipsy he started dancing and nobody could stop him. And you were left here with nobody to talk to and nothing to do except keep drinking.
Until Jackson Wang found you.
“Hey!” Jackson greeted you delightedly. You couldn’t help it; a smile crept up on your own face the moment you saw him. He was a welcome sight in this sea of drunken people. “I didn’t think you’d actually come! Bambam told me you were probably lurking in some corner somewhere.”
You flushed. “I’m not much of a dancer…”
“Do you drink?” Jackson held up two plastic cups in front of your face. “This one is coke mixed with vodka and this one is just coke, take your pick.”
You shamelessly reached for the vodka and Jackson chuckled. His gorgeous smile was making you giddy and you were even more flustered when he gently took your arm and steered you away from the crowd of people. There was an empty couch that Jackson gestured for you to sit on. He sat next to you; close enough that your shoulders were touching but not overbearingly close.
“So, why is a girl like you friends with Yugyeom and Bambam?” Jackson wondered lightly. “I never imagined those two would be your friends but they tell me you guys are really close.”
You sighed and took a sip of the vodka. “I think I just naturally attract stupid.”
Jackson chuckled and looked at you for a long moment. His brown eyes were staring straight into yours. There were so many emotions in his eyes. Curiosity, affection, a little bit of playfulness and something else that made you feel warm and fuzzy. A drunken guy sank onto your other side of the sofa and nearly flopped onto you. You winced and Jackson noticed instantly.
“Come here, switch sides with me.”
“No, it’s fine-”
“You don’t want him falling asleep on you, come on, you sit on the armrest side,” Jackson insisted, standing up and forcing you to scooch down. You bit your lip and took his place while he shoved the drunken guy away and blocked him off with his arm. Your stomach exploded in butterflies.
Maybe it was the vodka, maybe it was just Jackson but you really wanted to just lean forward and kiss his pretty lips right then and there.
“So, what made you come to this frat party?” Jackson teased you lightly. “Was it perhaps in the hopes of seeing my beautiful self?”
“Yes,” you blurted out.
Jackson’s eyes widened a little bit but he let out a small, pleased laugh. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. How much have you had to drink so far? Because now I’m starting to think that I shouldn’t have given you the one with vodka.”
You pouted. “This is just my second shot, I’m fine.”
“You really came here to see me?” he wondered. He gave you a hesitant smile and for the first time, Jackson looked a little bit unsure. “Don’t lie to me about stuff like that, you already know I like you. You’re gonna get my hopes up.”
You looked down at the drink in your hands and blushed. “I want to like you,” you mumbled.
Jackson sighed. “But you’re not sure if you can trust me, right? Because you still think that I might have sent some girl pictures of my dick,” he pointed out. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair with a frown.
You bit your lip. “I’m sorry Jackson, it’s just…”
“I know, I know. I just can’t think of a way out of this.”
“I might have to file an official complaint against you if I can’t get that girl to back off. And… well, it’s not really my job to get her to back off. It’s my job to support her and I want to do that but at the same time I might be getting you into serious trouble with the university authorities and I don’t want to be responsible for ruining your life. You seem like such an amazing guy but the truth is that a lot of sexual predators seem like nice guys at the start and…and…”
Jackson bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah, you don’t have to explain yourself.”
You felt a tear begin to form in your eye. Fuck, too much vodka.
“I want to trust you,” you sniffled. “But I’m worried that you might just be really charming and hiding something uglier deep inside. Am I a bad person?”
Jackson reached out and squeezed your hand softly.
“Never. This is not your fault.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. But if you’re really worried that I might have… might have done something like harass some girl and send her vulgar pictures then I can’t even imagine how uncomfortable you must feel around me.” Jackson forced a smile and then slowly began to get up. “You know what? I’m going to leave you alone now because I don’t want to be that guy.”
Ah, shit.
Your throat closed up. “No, please don’t avoid me, that’s not what I meant.”
Jackson sighed. “I know. I don’t want to, you have no idea how attracted I am to you. It’s insane. But considering the circumstances I feel like it would be easier for you if I stopped trying to flirt with you, right?”
You felt miserable. Jackson was the first guy you’d felt comfortable with in a long time. He was the first guy to make you laugh so easily, the first guy that genuinely made you want to trust him. Why did things have to be like this? You just knew in your gut that Nari was lying and you didn’t want to lose Jackson because of this. How could you just sit here and let this happen?
“Jackson…”
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and if I see Bambam or Yugyeom, I’ll tell them to come find you, okay? Don’t drink too much,” Jackson told you softly. He squeezed your hand again and then gave you a soft smile before disappearing into the crowd of people. You sat there silently and felt miserable.
Why couldn’t things just be easier?
You finished the entire glass of vodka and slowly got to your feet. You were tispy now; by this time you would normally be in a pleasantly giggly mood but you didn’t feel like smiling at all. You wanted to go home. You wanted to go home and bury yourself under the blankets and cry. You started to weave your way through the crowd of dancing people when you suddenly bumped into a girl, hard. You blinked a few times and her image became clearer to you.
“Nari?” you wondered.
She raised an eyebrow. “So it’s you. You’ve been ignoring my calls all weekend so you could party?”
You flushed in anger. “I’m not required to talk to you on the weekend, you’re supposed to make an appointment and come see me. Why are you here anyway?” you demanded. Considering that this was a closed party and you’d only been invited because Yugyeom and Bambam were part of the fraternity, you wondered who had invited her here.
“I’m here with my boyfriend,” she told you smugly. “Im Jaebum.”
You blinked. Im Jaebum. You’d heard that name before. Where had you heard that name before? You felt you’d heard it very recently and also that it had come from Jackson’s pretty lips, but…
“Im Jaebum co-captain of the basketball team?” you blurted out.
Nari nodded. “Yup. That’s right. Now if you’ll excuse me, he’s waiting for me.”
She disappeared off into the crowd and you felt your head spin. This didn’t make much sense. Jackson had spoken about Jaebum as if he was a friend. But somehow his girlfriend was filing a sexual harassment complaint against him? Shouldn’t this have affected Jackson and Jaebum’s friendship at some point? You suddenly remembered Nari repeatedly talking about wanting Jackson kicked off the basketball team.
Something wasn’t right and alarm bells were ringing in your head.  
You headed back inside the party and found Yugyeom dancing on the dance floor, already buzzed and dopey-eyed. You grabbed his sleeve and yanked him down to your height. “Hey! Kim Yugyeom! Listen to me for a second, this is important. I need you to tell me something. You know Im Jaebum, your basketball captain?”
Yugyeom was still wiggling his legs in time to the music but he stopped his upper body long enough to listen to you and bop his head furiously. “Yup!” he told you with a drunken grin.
“Does he have a girlfriend?” you demanded.
Yugyeom looked down at you and his eyes widened dramatically. “What? You’re interested in Jaebum-hyung now? But what about Jackson-hyung, he likes you so much, you can’t just go and date his friend without telling him! That’s so cruel!” he scolded you. You sighed and pressed your fingers to your temples. The effect of the alcohol you drank was already wearing off from his idiocy.
“No, I’m not trying to date him I just want to-”
“Besides, Jaebum-hyung has baggage. There’s this freaky ex-girlfriend of his that cheated on him a few weeks ago and now she’s just constantly hanging around out basketball practice trying to get him to take her back it’s so pathetic,” Yugyeom continued. “She tried to fight this other female friend of his. You don’t want to mess with a crazy bitch like that. Believe me. She’s psycho.”
“Is her name Nari, by any chance?”
Yugyeom bopped his head. “Yeah, Nari, Nora, something like that. No wait. Nora is his cat. Or is Nari his cat? Anyway, one of them is his cat but the other is his ex-girlfriend-”
You let go of Yugyeom. “Thanks, Yugyeom, you’ve been a great help.”
You wandered back into the party, looking desperately for Jackson while you stumbled over your feet. You weren't completely positive but now you felt like Nari had some semblance of a motive to frame Jackson for the text messages. You had to know what Jackson thought about this. Maybe he would find some way to prove himself innocent, maybe Jaebum could help. Maybe all Nari wanted was to get Jackson kicked off the basketball team so that Jaebum could be the captain.
Fuck that stupid bitch, fuck her so much…
You couldn’t find Jackson anywhere. You spotted Bambam, red-faced and flirting with a very pretty girl that was probably his crush but he told you he had no idea where Jackson was. Neither did anybody else. You were about to give up when suddenly, you spotted him coming down the stairs out of the corner of your eye.
“Jackson!”
Jackson spotted you and waved enthusiastically. He looked excited as he shoved his way past people in order to make his way towards you and his cheeks were flushed.
“Listen, Jackson, I need to talk to you!” you began. “I think I might have an idea-”
Jackson cut you off and threw his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. You were shocked by the sudden affection but you pulled away and he was grinning from ear to ear. He leaned closer to you and grabbed your shoulders urgently.
“I found it!” he bellowed at you. “I found the right dick!”
“You found the… what?”
Jackson placed his hands on your cheeks and squished them delightedly. “You are so adorable! I found the dick from the pictures! It was right in plain sight all along, I don’t know why I didn’t recognize it before! Come on upstairs, I’ll show you!”
You didn’t have time to respond before Jackson had taken your arm and was leading you up the stairs through the crowds of people. You followed him silently, bewildered, until he banged open a bedroom door. The room was empty except for a slightly green-faced man sitting on the edge of the bed. He blinked up at Jackson as soon as you both entered.
“Hyung, I think I’m gonna puke,” the man muttered drunkenly.
Jackson ignored him and waved a hand in the air dramatically. “Behold, the owner of the penis that started all this trouble in the first place. I walked in on him peeing in the bathroom just now and I swear to god it is absolutely one hundred per cent his dick.”
You stared at the man.
“Youngjae?”
Youngjae blinked at you. His eyes were unfocused and he looked nauseous. “I think I’m going to puke…” he repeated weakly.
“Jackson, he looks sick!” you cried. You found a bin in the corner of the room and hurriedly placed it in front of Youngjae so that he could lean forward and puke into it. Jackson sighed and patted Youngjae’s back comfortingly.
“Yeah, he’s fine. He just had too much to drink. He’ll sober up soon. But listen! The penis in the picture is his penis, okay!” Jackson cried excitedly. “I can prove it to you, I swear!”
You winced. “You are not going to take Youngjae’s pants off while he’s drunk-”
“I know, I know, give me your phone and show me the dick pic, I promise it’ll only take a second!” Jackson insisted. You reluctantly opened up your email and found the dick pic before handing the phone to Jackson. He waited for Youngjae to finish puking before shoving the phone in his face. “Youngjae! Youngjae, look, do you recognize this picture?”
Youngjae stared at the picture for a long moment and then blinked slowly. 
“That’s… that’s my penis.Why do you have my penis?”
Jackson beamed. “See!”
You frowned and folded your arms across your chest. It was definitely a relief that Jackson’s penis wasn’t the one in the picture but there were other consequences to this sudden discovery. “Youngjae, did you send a picture of your dick to a girl without asking her?” you demanded. “Were you the one who told Nari you would rape her and stuff?”
Youngjae blinked. “What?”
You sighed and kneeled down beside him. “When… did you send… this picture?” you repeated slowly.
Youngjae groaned into the bucket and then looked up at you miserably. “T-tinder,” he mumbled. “Three months ago. Some girl asked me to send her nudes and then she ghosted me. Never used the app again.”
You sat back in relief. “So Nari did fake the texts!”
Jackson grinned at you and he pulled you up to his feet before taking both of your hands in his. “Are you convinced?” he asked you hopefully. His dark eyes were shining. “Are you convinced that I wasn’t the one that sent those dick pictures to that girl?”
You nodded.
“So you’ll go out with me?”
“I’ll do better,” you decided, and pulled Jackson down to kiss him. His soft lips met yours eagerly and you let yourself melt into his warm embrace. Jackson didn’t hold back. He had wanted to kiss you ever since the first moment you smiled at him and he was not going to waste this opportunity. His lips caressed yours and his fingers slid into your hair. You were gasping for breath by the time he pulled back.
“Wow,” he whispered.
You giggled. “That was nice.”
“Fuck, you’re so cute,” Jackson mumbled before kissing you again. He took your face in his hands and kissed you again, and again, before pulling back with a small smile. “You taste like vodka so I’m going to stop here.”
You grabbed onto his shirt eagerly and puckered your lips up at him. “No, one more kiss-”
“Nope, you’re drunk. Come on. Let’s get you downstairs and back to the party.”
You bit your lips and flushed happily as Jackson wrapped his arm around your shoulder and began to lead you out of the room. It felt amazing being in his arms and exciting to finally have proof that Jackson was the wonderful person he seemed to be. You were just about to shut the door behind you when you heard Youngjae croak feebly.
“Guys? Can someone please get me some water?”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You were completely drunk when Jackson finally carried you back to your apartment.
After getting a few drinks with Jackson, you finally managed to confront Nari about faking the texts in order to get him kicked off the basketball team. It turned out that she had been trying to help Jaebum become the captain in the hopes that her bold sacrifice would make him take her back. Unluckily for her, Jaebum was completely unimpressed upon learning that she had used dick pics obtained from one of his friends in order to falsely implicate another.
It was only when drunken you began screaming at Nari (something along the lines of if you want a dick so bad then come suck mine, bitch) that Jackson decided you’d had enough for the night and ushered you out of the party. He was extremely amused by how you curled up beside him in the taxi and how you kept stroking his biceps lovingly.
“So this means,” you pointed out with a giggle, as Jackson walked you towards your door. “That I haven’t actually seen your dick yet.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That would be correct.”
“That’s kind of disappointing. All this time I thought I was looking at your penis. I actually have no idea what your penis looks like. At all. Isn’t that wild?”  
Jackson chuckled as he helped you fish your keys out from your jacket pocket. He let you lean on him clumsily as he opened the door for you, and then put the keys back in your pocket. “It’s not so wild,” Jackson replied. “If you must know, my penis is not open for public viewing, I only show it to very special people.”
You blinked at him. “I’m not special?”
“You’re special, but you’re also drunk so I’m not sure you really want to see it. How about you go to bed for tonight and we’ll talk about my dick a little bit more next time?” he offered lightly. You pouted but Jackson simply pulled you closer to him. He wrapped his arms around you in a warm, affectionate hug. “I’m just happy you trust me for now.”
You looked up at him. “I like you.”
“I like you too, babe.”
“You make me smile.”
“And you make me smile too,” he told you with a chuckle. “Now come on. Go inside, go change and go to bed. I want you to text me when you’re all tucked in, okay?”
You nodded obediently.
He leaned forward and kissed you gently on the forehead. “Good girl.”
---------------------------------------------------------
(03/04/19, 01:35)
You: Jackson….
Jackson: Hey babe
You: I got into bed and snuggled in under the covers like I promised
Jackson: Good, I knew you could do it. Are you comfy?
You: Yup. I slept naked under the covers. Want to see?
Jackson: Maybe not right now…
You: (attachment) IMG_20190304_5467.jpg
Jackson: Okay wow you just did that. Okay. I don’t really know what to do with this, I’m just hoping that sending drunk partial nudes isn’t something you do regularly?
You: No, you’re the first.
Jackson: Okay wow
You: Am I ugly? Do you think I’m ugly?
Jackson: You are definitely not ugly. You are gorgeous. It’s just that it’s gonna be really hard for me if you keep doing this
You: I feel so embarrassed I can’t believe I did that you must think I’m so ugly
Jackson: You’re NOT ugly
You: Really?
Jackson: Yes I am insanely turned on right now even though I’m trying really hard not to be because I know you’re drunk.
You: I’m not drunk.
Really. I’m not. I sobered up, I promise.
Jackson?
….. Can you show me how turned on you are for me?
Jackson: You don’t mean that.
You: I do. Please please please please
Jackson: Oh fuck. Okay you have to promise not to hate me tomorrow.
You: I won’t.
Jackson: I feel like I’m going to regret this but fuck, you’re driving me crazy so here goes
Jackson: (attachment) IMG_20190304_3218.jpg
You snuggled into your pillow and giggled as you watched the last image that slowly loaded onto your phone screen. Perhaps it was true that dicks were a little ugly, perhaps they would never be quite so delicious or mouth-watering as washboard abs or bulging biceps.
But when the dick was attached to someone as kind and sweet and gorgeous as Jackson Wang…
… well, it really wasn’t so bad after all.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
307 notes · View notes
mariequitecontrarie · 7 years ago
Text
Meet Me in the Courtyard: Part 4
Summary: Ruby finds Belle and Gold in an awkward embrace. Later, Leroy approaches Belle with some unsolicited advice. The Fic: Belle hosts a monthly movie night in Storybrooke, always leaving the seat next to her empty. Gold loathes movies, yet movie night at the library is the one community event even he can’t seem to resist.  Rating: T A/N: @a-monthly-rumbelling November prompt:  They work opposite each other. (Also fills October’s prompt, “You said you’d always be there for me…so how did this happen? Why weren’t you there?” but I’m really late). Yes, Ruby is still being a jerk, but Gold’s not going to take it anymore. Also finally some GrumpBelle/ Dwarf Beauty, because I’ve been wanting to fic their friendship for a long time. Thanks to @magnoliatattoo for being my beta!
{On AO3} Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
“Lemme guess…it’s not what it looks like.” Ruby grinned and flicked droplets of water off her raincoat, then shimmied out of the jacket and dumped it on the worktable.
“Actually, it’s exactly what it looks like,” Belle snapped. It was a lie, but Ruby’s arrogance was really pissing her off. Her hair was still attached to Gold’s belt and half her face was pressed against the scratchy wool fabric near his zipper, making it painful to look anywhere but at Ruby’s pointy red stilettos. “Don’t you knock?”
“Don’t you know how to lock a door?” Ruby countered. Belle cringed; the seventies porn couple was still in the throes of their faked orgasms. “It’s pouring outside, or I’d guess you couldn’t hear me over the sound of your heavy breathing.”
“Here to save Miss French from the town monster, Miss Lucas?” Gold asked. Belle felt his body tense, and his knuckles dug into her cheek as he struggled to unbuckle his belt.
“If the knockoff Armani fits…” Ruby sneered.
“It doesn’t,” Belle interrupted, her heart sinking when Gold referred to her as ‘Miss French.’ At this rate, she could say goodbye to any hopes of a relationship. “No rescuing required,” she added with artificial brightness.
“Yeah, looks like things are going really well.” Ruby stepped closer and gave her a condescending pat on the head, then turned to Gold. “Instructional video, huh? Aren’t you a little old not to know how it works?”
Belle gritted her teeth, giving Ruby one-eyed glare while Gold continued to struggle with his belt. Her cheek was chafing from where it was pressed against Gold’s clothing and her neck was starting to cramp.
A snapping noise pierced the room as the belt came off, and she slumped against his legs, smacking her forehead on his kneecap. “Ow!”
Gold snagged her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. She pressed one hand to her throbbing forehead and the other to her scratched cheek. “Are you all right?” he asked near her ear. His warm hands curled around her upper arms, steadying her.
“I’m…yes, I think so.” She took a step back, still massaging her sore face.
“Let me get you some ice,” he said, gesturing toward the small refrigerator in the corner. He tossed his belt on his desk, then made his way to the back corner of the shop.
“Grab your Viagra on your way back,” Ruby sang out. “Looks like you’re gonna need it.”
“Most men would in order to get in the mood with you, dearie.” Gold barked a dry laugh over his shoulder.
Belle slumped onto the small cot she’d been sitting on earlier and rubbed her temples. She wanted to tell Ruby to stop talking and leave, but the room was spinning and her mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton.
Gold returned to her side, then handed her an old-fashioned ice bag with a screw-top lid, and Belle pressed it against her forehead with a grateful moan.
He lightly tapped her neck with two warm fingers and her pulse skittered. The spicy scent of his aftershave calmed her, and she leaned against his shoulder, forgetting for a moment that they were no longer alone.
“I think these bruises will fade fast.” He grimaced, reminding her of their audience. “I’m so sorry, Belle.”
“Gross.” Ruby stuck out her tongue. “Don’t start reenacting the porno until after I leave, okay?”
Belle blinked at her and Gold dropped his hands. “We weren’t watching it.”
“Evidently.” Ruby gestured at the screen where the movie continued to play.
“It was an accident,” Belle protested. “The film was there by mistake, and then we couldn’t turn the machine off.”
“Really.” Ruby walked over to the projector and hit the button, and the reel stopped with a creak. “I think that ice is starting to numb your brain, Belles.”
“Miss Lucas, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Gold stood and squared his shoulders. “I’m sure there’s a strapping young lad waiting in a bathroom stall who requires your particular brand of attention.”
“Actually, I’m here with the rent check,” Ruby said with saccharine sweetness. “Thought I’d hand-deliver it this month.” She flapped a damp, coffee-stained enveloped at him.
Gold gave the envelope a distasteful glare. “Missed the large lockbox labeled R-E-N-T outside the door, did you?”
“Yep, breezed right by it.” Ruby said, slapping her hand over her face. “And now I need a drink or bleach for my eyes. Maybe both.”
“Help yourself to the scotch.” Gold waved a hand toward a crystal decanter and a set of tumblers sitting on his desk.
Ruby dumped the amber liquid into a glass with a smirk, filling it almost to the brim. “Don’t mind if I do.” She took a huge swallow and choked, sloshing some of her drink on the floor.
“Probably a good thing you’ve mastered that gag reflex, Miss Lucas.” Gold poured modest servings of scotch into two glasses and handed one to Belle.
“Not at all, Gold.” Ruby hopped up on the worktable and crossed her legs.  “I always gag when I see your ugly face.”
“Ruby!” Belle dropped her drink, splattering scotch, ice cubes, and splintered glass all over the polished hardwood. “Oh no! Gold, I’m sorry.” She hopped off the cot and searched the room for a broom.
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Relax, Belle. It’s just a drink. No need to be so dramatic.”
“Sit down, Belle,” Gold ordered, snatching the broom and handing her his glass. “I’ve got this.”
While Gold mopped up the liquid and swept up the bits of glass into a dustpan, Belle wrapped her hands around his drink, feeling wretched. What was wrong with Ruby? Ever since Belle had finally started connecting with Gold at the library movie nights, her so-called best friend had been smug and snappish and throwing up opposition at every opportunity.
She needed Ruby to leave before things got worse, but she didn’t have the first clue what to say.
Gold shoveled the broken glass into the wastebasket, followed by the empty Johnny Walter bottle, and tied up the bag. “Take this out, would you dearie?” Gold threw the white plastic garbage bag Ruby’s feet. “You know your way around the trash.”
Ruby froze with her drink halfway to her mouth, then set it down with trembling fingers, her eyes wide and her face white as a sheet. “Are you calling me trash?”
“If the pleather fits.” Gold studied his fingernails with quiet nonchalance.
Belle had never seen Ruby move so fast. She watched in stunned silence as Ruby picked up her coat and hurried through the curtain to the front of the shop on wobbly legs.
“Miss Lucas, a moment.”
“What?” Ruby half-turned, her dark hair falling over her cheek.
Gold’s smirk was cold as ice. “I’ll take that rent check now.”
Ruby hurled the envelope, sending the paper fluttering, and he caught it. He slipped the envelope inside his breast pocket in one smooth motion, an impassive expression on his handsome face.
Belle hunched her shoulders, wanting the floor to open and swallow her up. Her stomach gave a sickening lurch; he must be furious with her. Who could blame him? Ashamed, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, then hurried toward the front of the shop to catch up with Ruby.
“Ruby! Wait!”
Ruby whirled around, her green eyes snapping. “Can you believe that guy?”
“Yeah, I can.” Belle crossed her arms over her chest. “You deserved it.”
“What?”
“Your behavior tonight was inexcusable.” She wheezed, feeling like a weight was crushing her lungs.
“Are you serious, Belle?” Ruby’s hands flew to her hips. “He’s so stiff he probably sleeps with his cane up his ass. Not to mention he’s old enough to be your father. You’re supposed to be the smart one. I thought you had more dignity and a hell of a lot more sense.”
The string of accusations stung, and angry tears filled Belle’s eyes. She blinked them away, not bothering to explain away her awkward embrace with Gold yet again. Ruby had barged in on them and turned an awkward situation into utter humiliation, and now she wanted to play the injured party?
Belle wanted to scream her frustrations, to fire horrible insults designed to hurt, but she and Ruby had grown up together. They’d supported each other through first crushes and bad breakups and conquered everything side-by-side from acne to the prom. Ever since Belle had thrown a book at Killian “Hook” Jones’ head for dipping Ruby’s pigtails in glue back in second grade, they’d been sworn besties for life. She still had her half of the friendship bracelet they’d bought together when they were ten in her jewelry box.
Even when Belle had gone to college in Boston while Ruby stayed behind in Storybrooke to help Granny run the diner, they texted almost every day, and when Belle came home to work at the library, they’d picked up right where they left off.
It wasn’t so easy to be indifferent to her oldest and closest friend.
“Well?” Ruby tapped her foot. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
That did it.
“Me?” Belle squeaked. “You’re judging me about relationships? You have a red book where you write down all your conquests and rate them on their performance, and I’m the slut.” She was starting to shake, and her throat felt like it was full of sawdust. “You know how I feel about Gold. How long I’ve waited to find someone to love who might actually love me back. Do you know how hard tonight was for me? Well, let me tell you something: it was very hard. I needed a friend today, Ruby. I thought that person was you. You said you’d always be there for me, so how did this happen? Why weren’t you there?”
xoxo
Belle sat alone in a booth in a back corner of the diner, picking at the bits of crispy dried cheese on the edges of her bacon cheeseburger. It looked and smelled delicious, but her appetite had withered when Ruby had flounced past her table without even a glance in her direction. Belle signed and frowned at her iced tea. She’d deliberately sat as far from Ruby’s section as possible, but she should have gone to Tony’s for pizza. Two weeks had gone by since her terrible humiliation, and she hadn’t been able to face either Ruby or Gold.
“Oh, hey. It’s the movie librarian lady,” a gruff male voice said. “I’m Leroy. I work across the street from the library at Snowy White’s.” He held out a beefy, callused hand.
Belle shook his hand without making eye contact and pulled a book out of her handbag. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation, and the last time she’d crossed paths with Leroy, he had been a total jerk. She seemed to be running into jerks a lot lately. “Yes, I know who you are,” she said.
“Snowy White’s is the dry cleaner,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “I work the front desk.”
“I’ve seen you in the window.” She didn’t add that she often spied on Gold when he went into the cleaner’s with a bundle of shirts to be laundered, or came out with a collection of pressed suits on hangers. She pressed her lips together and cracked the cover on her book, hoping Leroy would leave her alone to read and cry into her burger in peace, but still he stood there, hovering beside the table.
He plopped down on the banquette opposite her. “You look upset, sister. What’s wrong?”
Belle looked up warily. She was at odds with her best friend and she had been completely humiliated front of a man she really liked. The only man she’d ever really liked. She couldn’t handle another scolding from Leroy or anyone else. “Are you going to yell at me?”
He frowned and pulled his cap lower across his forehead, shading his eyes. “Would I have come over here and sat down if I was gonna yell at you?”
“You yelled at me at the movie night last month.” She twisted her mouth. “Remember? I was being too loud, you said. Then you hit me with a box of Junior Mints.”
“Oh.” His neck flushed. “Forgot about that. I’m really sorry. It’s Ruby who got under my skin, to be honest. Girl’s got a mouth the size of Michigan. Also, I, uh, get a little emotional over movies.”
“Me too.” She felt the shadow of a smile cross her face. Leroy was gruff and a little rough around the edges, but there was a kindness in his hazel eyes that put her at ease. And at the moment, the fact that he found Ruby annoying was a point in his favor. She set her book aside. Maybe some company would do her good after all. “Would you like some fries? Granny fixed me this huge plate, but I’m not really hungry.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He removed his cap, and caught the basket of fries she shoved into the center of the table. “You talk, I’ll eat.”
“Deal,” she said, and this time her smile was genuine.
Leroy attacked the food, and Belle found that once she started talking, she couldn’t stop. She told him everything, filling him in about the uncomfortable movie nights, the awkward lunch and dinner out she and Gold had shared, and the horrible evening at the shop with the vintage porn film when Ruby had ruined everything.
“I should have kicked Ruby out myself,” Belle said.
He snorted. “Nah. Gold knows how to take care of himself. But your date didn’t sound so bad before Ruby got there.”
“It was fine. Better than fine.” Flushing, she looked away, remembering how close she and Gold had come to kissing before Ruby barged in. “And then it wasn’t. That was two weeks ago, and I haven’t spoken to Gold since. I call and hang up; I walk by the store and peek in the window, but I can’t bring myself to go inside. Three days ago I saw him at the park.”
“What happened at the park?” Leroy took a long drag from his soda.
“I waved,” she said, cringing at how lame she sounded. “He waved back!”
“That’s it?” Leroy snorted again.
Belle took a sip of tea and changed the subject. “Do you…I mean, what do you think of him? Gold.”
He clamped down on a toothpick. “It doesn’t matter what I think of him. Not me or anyone else. All that matters is you like him. You need to be brave, Belle. If you really like this guy, and it sounds like you do, tell him. Take charge. And be honest about how you feel. Chances are he feels the same, but isn’t sure how to say so.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Belle wasn’t sure she could open herself up to another rejection.
“At least you’ll know.” Leroy rolled the toothpick in his fingertips. “You said he likes Chinese food. Today’s Saturday; date night. And it sounds like he gets twitchy out in public—”
“Twitchy?” Belle interrupted.
Leroy raised an eyebrow. “You know what I mean. The diner, the movies…things seem to go wrong when you’re out. Show up at his house tonight with Mr. Wong’s and a movie and see what happens.”
“Sounds…adventurous. The last time I surprised him, it didn’t end well.” She laughed nervously and tapped the cover of her book. “The stories I read about always end so much more happily than real life.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t a book. This is your life. Don’t think, Belle. Go.”
Belle bit her lip, gripped in indecision.
He reached across the table and patted her hand. “Look, you asked me what I think, and I think Gold’s a self-important jerk.”
“Hey!”
“You asked. But here’s the funny thing, sister. Sometimes people are grumpy because they’re lonely. They’re waiting to see if someone will bother to peel back the layers and see if they’re worth it. You could be that person for Gold. But you’ll never know unless you give it another try.”
“You’re right,” she said. It was the best advice she’d heard in a long time, maybe ever. She was lonely herself these days, and certainly feeling more than a little grumpy. “Thanks Leroy.”
He flushed with the compliment, then rubbed his dark beard. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
He dug around in his pocket, then pulled out a crumpled square of paper. “Would you like a coupon for Snowy White’s? Bring in six sweaters, only pay for four.”
She nodded. “That’s quite an offer.”
“I’ve got a whole book of ‘em,” he said excitedly. “And hey, since we work opposite each other, maybe I could help you. People could drop off their books at the counter when they’re in a hurry, and I could bring them to you at the library at the end of the day. Maybe you could leave some coupons for Snowy’s at the circulation desk, too?”
“I think I can do that,” Belle agreed with a smile.
“Great!”
“So, does this mean…are we becoming friends?” She held her breath, not realizing how much the answer meant to her until she’d asked the question.
“Yeah.” He grinned, showing two rows of gleaming white teeth, a charming little gap between the two front ones. “Yeah, I think we are.”
###
33 notes · View notes
justlightlysedated · 7 years ago
Text
“We met each other on a Sunday morning, both doing our walk of shame” AU from this list, send me one if you want me to write another ;D
It wasn’t a walk of shame because Daisy didn’t feel any shame in what happened last night. She’d come over when Raina had asked her to at the bar, and she knew exactly what was going to happen when she’d gotten in the taxi with her.
And now she was leaving because she didn’t really know Raina, had only seen her a couple of times at the same bar leaving with other girls, and while last night had been fun, it was only a onetime thing. Which was exactly what Daisy needed after the week she’d had.
She leaves a note for Raina on top of the coffee maker that she’d used to cure her hangover a little.
Thanks for last night. It was fun.
Then walks out of the door thankful that Raina is a heavy sleeper and didn’t even wake up when Daisy had almost toppled over three different flower pots.
Daisy opens the door without a care, and someone in the hallway closes their door a little too loudly.
There is the sound of cursing in a posh British accent and Daisy lets Raina’s door close soundlessly behind her before she turns to see who her morning acquaintance is going to be today.
The young woman is looking at the closed door with wide eyes as though waiting for it to open back up.
Her shoes (sensible flats) are hanging from the fingers of one hand, and a suit jacket is folded and thrown over her shoulders. She’s wearing fashionable looking slacks, and an untucked buttoned down shirt. Her hair screams ‘I rolled out of bed like this’ and Daisy is sure if she turns around there will be smudged makeup on her face.
While Daisy feels no shame in what happened last night, it seems as though this person feels nothing but shame over whatever it is that happened with the person she’s afraid will open the door.
After several minutes where she watches the door and Daisy watches her, she turns to Daisy and is startled to see her leaning against Raina’s door.
Daisy was right, her makeup is smudged.
The young woman gives Daisy a strained smile, and then hurriedly walks down the hallway towards the elevator.
Daisy starts at that and follows her, not because she wants to, but because she’s got a nine am class to get to, and she really needs to get home and take a shower and grab her books.
The young woman eyes her warily as Daisy stands beside her to wait for the elevator.
Up close, even with the smudged makeup, Daisy can see how beautiful this girl is. It makes her breath catch in her throat, and she tries not to stare too obviously, because it’s obvious that she’s feeling guilty about her one night stand.
The elevator doors open, and they both step inside. Daisy tucks herself into one corner, and waits until the young woman selects the first floor.
The doors close, and they both see when the door to the apartment the young woman had just left opens.
She inhales sharply, and Daisy isn’t surprised when her phone starts ringing.
The young woman slips the phone out of her pocket and eyes it a little warily before she sighs and answers.
All Daisy hears is a tiny voice on the other end, just sounds no actual words, but it’s not too difficult to guess what the person is saying.
“I’m sorry, but I just need time to process this.” The young woman says interrupting the other person, before she pulls the phone away from her ear and hangs up. She also powers the phone down before putting it back into her pocket.
She lets out a sigh, and jumps as though she’d forgotten Daisy was there when she turns and spots her leaning against the railing.
They reach the first floor, and Daisy lets her leave first following her at a more sedate pace.
The young woman stops right by the entrance, and balances herself on the wall with one hand while slipping on her shoes.
Daisy walks by her and hears a sniffle, but she keeps walking.
It’s none of her business.
Then she hears the sob, and stops, cursing herself because she’s weak to beautiful girls crying.
She turns to see the young woman leaning against the wall fully face buried in her forearm.
She approaches her carefully, reaching out to touch her shoulder, startling her for the third time this morning.
The young woman looks up at Daisy a question in her eyes.
“Sorry,” Daisy says taking a step back. “Just wanted to make sure that you’re okay?”
The young woman sniffs, and gives her a watery smile. “I’m fine.”
Daisy gives her a doubtful look.
The young woman’s face crumbles, and her eyes water.
Daisy bites her tongue before reaching out again to pat her on the shoulder.
“Whatever it is, it’s not that bad.” Daisy says trying to console her.
The young woman shakes her head. “I just shagged my best friend. This is the worst day of my life.”
And okay, Daisy can see how this could be a bad thing.
She hears the elevator start moving, and makes a decision before said best friend decides to come after her.
“Why don’t you come join me for some coffee and unsolicited advice?”
The young woman looks like she’s going to refuse, but she nods her head and Daisy lets her walk out of the apartment complex first.
They walk in silence for the first few minutes, before the young woman turns to her and says. “My name is Jemma, by the way.”
“Daisy,” Daisy says and gives Jemma a smile. “Come on, it’s right around the corner.”
Jemma nods, and when they get to the coffee shop she gives Daisy a small smile. “I come here all of the time.”
Daisy grins back, “So do I.”
“But I’ve never seen you before,” Jemma comments as they walk inside and up to the line by the counter.
Daisy shrugs. “I’m usually here late at night to get my midnight fix. I work strange hours.”
Jemma nods her head. “That must be it. I’m usually here in the mornings.”
They order their coffees, and sit down at one of the quaint little tables they’ve got pressed alongside the walls of the shop.
Daisy waits until Jemma’s taken a couple of sips of coffee before she starts.
“So tell me, why is sleeping with your best friend considered the worst day of your life?”
Jemma sets her coffee cup down, and plays with the edges of the plastic top before she sighs and looks at Daisy through half-lidded eyes.
“I’m just not into him like that. He’s like my brother. But we’d drunk too much and I was feeling lonely after breaking up with my first real girlfriend, and it just happened. And it sucks because he’s been in love with me for years, and I’ve always done everything I could not to encourage it, and now this happened, and I don’t know how to face him. What do I tell him? What do I do?”
She looks at Daisy imploringly, and Daisy takes a sip of her coffee thinking it over.
The first immediate thought in her head is, Yes! She’s into girls! But she smothers it before it takes over her brain.
“Why don’t you just tell him what you told me?”
Jemma looks distraught. “Because it would hurt him.”
“So?” Daisy questions giving her an incredulous look. “What else are you going to do? You either tell him that it was a mistake that can’t ever happen again because you don’t have those type of feelings for him, or you don’t say anything and start dating him, and then before you know it you’ll be married to someone you’re not in love with. And that second option is not fair to either of you. It’s better to hurt him a little and still be able to salvage your friendship, or completely demolish him later when he finds out that you’ve been cheating on him because you don’t feel anything when he fucks you.”
Jemma goes a startling shade of red, and looks around to make sure that no one is listening before she shoots Daisy a look out of the corner of her eye.
“That’s not going to happen,” Jemma says. “And it’s not that I didn’t feel anything when we, you know, it’s just that it didn’t feel right.”
Daisy rolls her eyes. “Of course it didn’t feel right, you just described your feelings for him as familial and platonic.”
“Exactly, but how do I tell him that without hurting his feelings?”
“That’s impossible,” Daisy replies swishing around her cup and feeling the cardboard heat up in her palm. “You’re going to end up hurting him either way. You can’t force yourself to fall in love with him anymore than you can force him to not feel anything for you. You just have to be as honest with him as you’re being with me.”
“That’s impossible,” Jemma says taking another sip of her drink. “You’re a stranger. It’s easy to be honest with you, because I may never see you again after today. But I have to see Fitz everyday for the rest of the conceivable future since we work together.”
“Ouch, not only your best friend, but also your co-worker.”
Jemma just nods along miserably.
“It’s happened to me before,” Daisy admits. “Not the best friend part, but the sleeping with a co-worker part. It worked as long as we didn’t really interact at work. Then lines were blurred, and I had to flee the state in order to get away from his psychotic ass.”
Jemma narrows her eyes at her. “Fitz isn’t going to go psychotic on me.”
“That you know off,” Daisy points out finishing her coffee. “Love does crazy things to people. Especially if it’s unrequited.”
“I do love him,” Jemma insists.
“Just not in the way that he wants,” Daisy says propping her elbows on the table and leaning forward. “Not in the way that means you’ll enjoy being friends-with-benefits. Just because we can fake an orgasm, doesn’t mean that we should.”
Jemma’s flush returns with a vengeance. “Do you have to speak like that?”
Daisy gives her a sly smile. “We are talking about what to do now that you’ve had sex with your best friend that you don’t have feelings for.”
Jemma shakes her head, and looks down at her hands playing with her coffee cup. “I don’t even know why I’m talking about this with you.”
“I’m told I have a very trustworthy face,” Daisy says tapping her fingers against the empty coffee cup.
“It is a very nice face,” Jemma mumbles, the red in her cheeks deepening.
Daisy feels a pleasant sensation in her stomach. “Yours isn’t too bad either.”
Jemma looks up at her suddenly, eyes a little wide.
Daisy opens her mouth to say something else, like maybe explain that she wasn’t just hitting on her, just stating a fact, when her alarm sounds.
Daisy curses as she tugs her phone out of her jacket pocket.
She barely has enough time now to get home and grab her books before heading to class.
“I’m so sorry to cut this short,” Daisy says standing up.
Jemma stands up with her, “Oh, not at all. Thank you for your unsolicited advice.”
Daisy gives her a smile, and then thinks, what the hell, and reaches into her other pocket for the sharpie she usually keeps tucked there.
She writes her number out on a napkin, and slides it to Jemma.
“Call me, if you need any more advice, or even someone to give you another push to tell your best friend the truth.”
Jemma gives her a pleasant smile, eyebrow raised. “What about if I want to call you to treat you to dinner to say thanks?”
Daisy smiles back. “You can call me for that too.”
She knocks her fist against the table twice, and grins feeling happy and like maybe this is the start of something. “See you around Jemma.”
“I’ll call you,” Jemma promises folding the napkin and slipping it into her pocket.
“You better,” Daisy replies walking backwards and out of the coffee shop.
Daisy smiles biting down on her bottom lip smothering the sound of exhilaration that wants to come out.
She’s late to class, but it’s worth it when Jemma texts her during the night.
Talked to Fitz. We’ll work it out. Thanks. I owe you dinner. How about Friday night?
Sounds perfect. See you then.
39 notes · View notes
entergamingxp · 4 years ago
Text
Test Drive Unlimited drew a new horizon for racing games • Eurogamer.net
Did you know that they’re making a new Test Drive Unlimited? It’s true! Kylotonn, the French studio behind the well-regarded WRC and Isle of Man TT series, has acquired the Test Drive licence from Atari, and there are veterans of the Eden Games team that made it working at the studio. It’s exciting, but also a little scary. Kylotonn is a small studio owned by a small publisher. Test Drive Unlimited was something of a scrappy underdog in its day, too, of course, but back then its only competition in open-world racing was Need for Speed, a very different beast. Now, a new TDU would be going up against a game that has taken its rough frame and polished it to a gleaming finish: Playground Games’ Forza Horizon. Why bother?
It is, however, only fair that the French series returns to try to grab a slice of this pie: it wrote the recipe. Forza Horizon simply wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for 2006’s Test Drive Unlimited. Released so early in the last generation that it beat the PS3 to market, TDU dreamed of a different kind of real-world road racing to the studious lapping and tweaking of Gran Turismo and Forza Motorsport. Inspired by the original 1987 Test Drive’s winding ribbon of cliffside tarmac, this would be a game about the glory of the open road; about exploring exotic, sun-kissed landscapes; about freedom and danger as you weave through traffic; about cruising as well as going flat out.
Revisiting the game on Xbox 360 now, it’s almost hard to believe it launched on the same platform that hosted the first Forza Horizon in 2012. It wobbles on what was then new hardware, stretching the limits of what the Eden team could achieve with it. The visuals now look muddy and plain, the car handling is agricultural, the frame tears and stutters and the human characters all look like weirdly sarcastic shop mannequins. (Did I mention the game is French?) Some aspects of the game seem embarrassingly dated now: the fashion brands (remember when people wore Ecko Unltd hoodies with cargo shorts?); the glossy, Second Life-style lifestyle MMO elements; the missions that require you to give ladies a lift home with their shopping. Suddenly the noughties seem like a distant land.
But good lord, it can still intoxicate too. It turns out that there are a few specific ingredients in Test Drive Unlimited that haven’t been successfully copied by Forza Horizon or, for that matter, anything else. So here is my entirely unsolicited advice to the Kylotonn team on what they need to preserve from the original TDU to set the game apart.
Let me choose my upholstery colour. Long before Forza Vista, TDU offered the ultimate car-shopping experience. You could poke around the car in the showroom, rolling down the windows, turning the ignition, listening to the reassuring thunk of the doors. And although its customisation options are dwarfed elsewhere, this is the only game I can think of that lets you match paint and upholstery colours straight out of the factory catalogue to find the perfect combination. Beautiful.
Don’t put too many cars in it, and don’t let me have all of them. The art and licensing teams can thank me later for this one. But it’s not just about reducing the scope to something a small developer can manage. It’s about the amazing sense of ownership TDU achieves. The way the game paces its economy, combined with the slowly expanding number of garage slots it gives you, forces you to make tough choices about what to buy; for the longest time, you can only afford one car in each performance band as you unlock them. You really invest in these machines, and consequently you love them all the more. Forza boasts an incredible selection, but its Gacha machine spits them out at a rate you can never keep up with. It becomes collection for collection’s sake, and looking at your garage is overwhelming. Going to your garage in TDU – which, by the way, is a physical space at your home – you feel the glowing pride of the curator.
Keep it real. Where Forza goes for condensed, fantasy versions of real-world locations, crafted to provide excitement wherever you turn your wheel, TDU and its sequel recreated the islands of Oahu and Ibiza more or less to scale, with a more or less accurate road map. It isn’t all thrilling; there’s a lot of freeway. But it feels like a real place, and driving fast there feels illicit, whereas Playground’s wonderful creations feel like, well, playgrounds: the real shrunk down and smoothed out into a sort of racing paradise.
Pile on the traffic. Comparing TDU to the latest Forza Horizon, I notice that in the latter game, the traffic is spaced out just enough that, with a bit of skill, I can thread through it without ever having to take my foot off the gas. Not so in the former. You’re constantly having to lift off, swerve, tap the brakes, check your speed. When you hit long stretches of freeway, every mile per hour you can add feels hard won and puts your heart further in your mouth. The great sensation of speed here has nothing to do with a dolly zoom camera effect or a whooshing sound in the audio mix – it’s all to do with your awareness of the risk you’re taking.
Do the car delivery missions. All of the above come together in my favourite part of TDU: missions that ask you to deliver an exotic car, one you probably can’t afford yourself yet, from one end of the map to the other. Crucially, there’s no time limit, but every scrape you add to the car knocks thousands of dollars off your fee. You can dawdle at 30mph the whole way if you like, but then you will have missed the chance to hear this Ferrari Enzo in song, to see what it can really do. So you watch the traffic, and the lights, and the junctions, cautiously but with an eye to an opportunity to open up the throttle. You spot your chance, floor it. The thrill is incredible.
No other racing game has ever made me feel like that. In no other racing game do I consciously move between different registers of driving: relaxed, fast or racing. I just go as fast as I can because that’s what you do. TDU showed another way. It was a gem, and a new one will always be welcome to show us a different way to drive.
from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/07/test-drive-unlimited-drew-a-new-horizon-for-racing-games-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=test-drive-unlimited-drew-a-new-horizon-for-racing-games-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net
0 notes
sunkissis · 5 years ago
Text
Bonjour guys,
I’ve had the most formidable (as the French say), chill summer. We hosted many special and dear friends and family that we ended up staying in Paris all summer. I started a new venture called Mon Ami Paree walking tours and this weekend we are hopping on a train for our 17th wedding anniversary. It’s completely bananas to me that I have done anything for as long as seventeen years but I’ve been with lovely Antz for half of my life so I consider myself lucky. I’ve been thinking about how I am getting closer to the midpoint of my life (fifty is creeping on me) and all the things I’ve learned, failed and grown from. Here’s my list of real talk life advice that have shaped me thus far.
Don’t pick at your face. I am so old school in my skin regime that I still use toothpaste on my pimples and I never touch my face. Now that I live in a city without a car, I feel the dirt and sun more than ever. So, everyday I wash my face with Bliss fab foaming 2-in-1 cleanser & exfoliator with bamboo buffers  (I bought a huge bottle before we left LA) and moisturize with my Holy Grail Aveeno Positively Radiant Sheer Daily Moisturizing Lotion. That’s it! I try my best not to frown but I am embracing my laugh-line wrinkles.
Manners first in everyday situations. When I was 11, I spent a summer in Oklahoma with my Grandmother’s sister. My Great-Aunt was super traditionally strict and she basically put me in charm school boot camp that summer. No elbows on the table, ask to be excused from the table and always say Good morning when you greet someone. These are no-brainer rules for Liv, lucky me I rarely have to remind her but it’s such a dying part of our society. Bring a gift the first time you visit someone’s house, hold the door for people struggling, make eye contact when you speak to someone. So many people have a hard time learning names but I always say the person’s name when we meet to remember it. I also write myself notes to remind myself (cute family we met at the park with two kids and live in the 2eme). Please learn a strong handshake. When I meet someone with a weak handshake I want to head bump them so hard. How far will you get in life with that weak grip? I don’t trust weak hand shakers. I often have to catch myself from saying “Bless you” out loud when someone sneezes on the bus because I get such strange looks (I forget, no one speaks English). One of the most charming things I appreciate here in Paris is you must always speak to a shopkeeper or bus driver when you enter. I also love how people offer their seats to elderly or pregnant women without a thought. From my observations, pregnant ladies get treated like princesses here. Remember, politeness goes a long way and shows integrity.
Always bring a umbrella! I have learned the hard way so many times since I moved to this land of unpredictable rain. I have gotten caught in rain and hailstorms without even a jacket. I am so LA that I forget to wear a jacket when I leave the house and the sun is shining bright. Little did I know it can take less than an hour for the weather to take a major turn. We have acquired so many cheap umbrellas because we get caught in the rain. Now we carry a bag every time we go out with two small umbrellas, a pack of wet wipes, portable phone charger and cords, hand sanitizer, our table tennis rackets (almost every park has a table) and a water bottle. These things used to live in the trunk of my car but now I have to schlep everything myself.
Invest in quality lip balm. I used to throw Vaseline on my lips if they were chapped for years in my twenties. Then I got an Anthropologie gift card for my birthday so I bought some fancy Smith Rosebud Salve. I loved the smell of the balm but the container would get bent in my bag and it was too cumbersome and messy to open. So when I found EOS in sweet mint at Target, I was addicted. I literally brought 20 of them to Paris with me because I fear running out. My Mom even sends me more in my care packages because she knows I am obsessed. Find a quality lip balm and never leave home without it in your purse. Trust me, I had to stop at a 24 hour grocery store to buy some lip balm while I was on my way to the hospital when I was in labor with Liv.
My Mommy keeps me stocked with LA necessities.
Don’t buy something with the hope of losing weight to wear it later. I bought a cute baby doll dress from Target thinking, it’s so cute and not expensive, I’ll lose some weight in my arms and be able to wear it in a few months. That dumb dress sat in my closet for five years. Why mentally psyche yourself up for something you can’t enjoy now? I no longer starve myself, or beat myself up about my weight. I am healthy and loved. I walk more now than I ever did and I feel great in my clothes. The apparel industry has come around to accepting that all women aren’t size six, so I feel great about being able to buy clothes that don’t look matronly or feel left out of what the cool girls are wearing. I was even asked to try-on clothes for two brands I adore (my darlings at Ace & Jigand Ban.do)  This 42 year old lady is still as rad as I was at 22!
Never not wearing my favorite Ace & Jig dress
Embrace your quirky self! I used to have an unhealthy relationship with my hair. I have bleached it to death, chemically straightened it for years and mistreated it out of sheer laziness. The straw that broke my hair unhappiness was in January 2017. I was putting a chemical straightener on my hair when I had to take off my Olivia pendant necklace (the chemicals would ruin it)  I somehow lost my necklace that day so I vowed to never use that stupid (and damaging) stuff again. I haven’t put any chemicals or color on my hair since then. I replaced my necklace too. When I want to change my look, I get colorful braids. Now that I live in a more humid climate (my hair literally turns into a mushroom the second I go outside)
I’ve learned to embrace my natural curls. I have an established hair routine that I do once in a while because I’m still lazy but the less I mess with my hair the stronger and healthier it’s been. I bought products I know keep my dry, damaged hair moisturized and leave it alone. I broke my expensive flat iron when I first moved her because of the dumb voltage. I bought a new Euro flat iron but it doesn’t work as well as my old one so I decided, why go through the time and energy trying to make my curly hair straight? Now I throw tons of leave-in conditioner in my hair, or sometimes I wear flexi rods overnight and poof! I’m little orphan Lizzie.
Young Lizzie and Lizzie in her 20s (with extensions)
I’ve retired my signature braids for the summer to give my hair a rest and let it breathe. Braids are a protective hairstyle in the Black hair community but they can also cause breakage if you use the wrong type of hair or have them braided too tight. Plus they are annoyingly hot.
Please for the love of God know the difference between homophones (words that sound the same but are spelled and mean different things!) I am in a Facebook travel group and when I see adult people typing “I waisted a ticket because the whether was bad,” I have a brain meltdown. Listen, I am no grammar snob, I am completely aware my spelling is atrocious (thanks autocorrect for fixing that for me) and I am a serial run-on-sentence writer, but if you aren’t sure (NOT SHORE) which word to use, take a second and Google it. It took me years to grasp the difference between stationary and stationery. I subscribe to Word Genius which emails me a new word a day. I really wish I had a reason to use the word hornswoggle on my blog. Learn new things all the time.
Master your penmanship. I may sound so old-fashioned and prissy in my unsolicited advice but have you ever tried to read a doctor’s prescription? I now live in a country where they write in lovely italic cursive however, I can’t tell an S from an R. Liv has beautiful penmanship, I have always instilled taking pride in your handwriting in her from an early age yet the French education system has taken over and she writes so teeny tiny, I can’t figure it out. I bought her a calligraphy set and she loves to practice writing fancy.
Not everyone is going to like you. Believe it or not this is hard for extroverts like myself to accept. I can be hypersensitive and get anxiety around new people. I am an only child so my friendships are everything to me. I have been told that I am a people person but I really have a small inner circle of only about five or six people who really know the real uncensored me. I’ve had to deal with people flaking on me, people mischaracterizing me and many people doubting me for years. My confidence comes from learning self-trust. I am okay being the loud girl who listens to weird music or dresses like a toddler obsessed with rainbows, that is who I am, not sorry about it. I can’t help but be selfish about my happiness. I try my best to set an example for my (sometimes shy and quiet) daughter because growing up is hard and things like bullying, eating disorders and now the fake Instagram perfection standard makes it even harder. I never had a sibling to give me advice or tell me I look crazy so I’ve made great friends and spent time listening and learning. I now have many sisters (by marriage and my bff) but I wish I knew at 13 that just because someone didn’t like me meant something was wrong with me. As you get older, you stop caring what other people think. What they think doesn’t matter and are inconsequential to your success! 
Proud Pokemon Go Mom. If you play too, let me know so we can be friends!
Fail, ugly cry and then try that shit again until you succeed! OMG, this was a hard lesson for me to learn y’all. I am impatient and when I don’t immediately get my way, I turn into the biggest brat ever. I have gone through every type of disappointment, felt like life was over for me and through all the drama and heartache, always came through better than I started. It’s weird when you are going through something serious, it feels like being stuck in quicksand. I now know that the harder something is for me to achieve, the more it’s worth it. I also know that anything worth doing requires sacrifice and commitment. You may sacrifice sleep, spending money, eating desserts but will it be worth the sacrifice in the end? Ask yourself this when going into a new venture. I have learned in the past twenty two years that my internal stress and anxiety is a complete overreaction. I know deep down things will work out because it always seems impossible until it’s done. The word is literally I’M POSSIBLE!!
Have a lovely rest of the summer. I am still working on last summer’s travel posts, it’s taking forever because my laptop memory is full so for every photo I upload I have to throw away three. It’s moving slow but it’s possible.
Bisous
My mid-life check in Bonjour guys, I've had the most formidable (as the French say), chill summer. We hosted many special and dear friends and family that we ended up staying in Paris all summer.
0 notes
Text
Sotter Celo De Roma
A friend asked me today why I hadn’t written about Rome as yet. So brace yourselves, what follows is going to be one mushy love fest. Rome like my mother and MTR’s Khara bath is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. Rome can turn someone like me into an illegal immigrant. Is it obvious that I love Rome muchly? No? Rome is not just a city, it is an experience. One which I highly recommend. And so I will produce unsolicited travel advice for one blog post on what must be done to relish everything that is the eternal city-
Fly Alitalia- They might lose your bags but their inflight music is Volare. Just before landing in the Fiumicino airport the pilot will choose to provide all passengers with an aerial view of the Vatican. Maybe it’s that heady combination of Volare and the Vatican but if your heart does not skip a beat, are you even alive?
Get a hotel with a view of that glorious dome- There is no better sight to wake up to each day and fall asleep to each night than that magnificent Cupola. If you’re Catholic, it will speak to your soul. If you’re not, it will speak to your soul.
Skip the gelato- Gelato like Italian pizza is over rated. Maybe I never ate the right gelato but hold onto those Euros, find a Baskin Robbins and invest in a mint chocolate chip. Or go to Pubbas in Mangalore for the best ice-cream in the world.
Give the pizza a miss- Unless you like your pizza to have the malleability of a chapatti with mozzarella (could I get more Indian?) I’d suggest steering clear of Italian pizza. And as for their vegetarian sandwiches (Focaccia with mozzarella and tomato)? Barge pole distance must be kept at all times.
Binge on Cornetti- If nothing else, travel to Italy just to eat their breakfast. Almost every café makes the most delicious Cornetti (the croissant’s healthier Italian cousin). The filling is chocolate or lemon cream. Always get yourself a cup of Cappuccino to go with the Cornetto. Ignore the judgmental glares as you top the Cappuccino up with a bit more milk and a lot more sugar. Don’t be a hero. No one except my father can drink coffee that strong.
People watch in Piazza Navona- the overpriced, tourist trap type coffee notwithstanding, spend an evening in Piazza Navona. Find yourself a nice spot to sit, preferably with a nice Ciambella from the bakery at the end of the Piazza and watch all the tourists (always American) strike the same pose as the Tritons in the Moor fountain- why they do that will be anyone’s guess.
Tear up in St. Peter’s Basilica- nothing will prepare you for the jaw dropping, speech robbing brilliance that is St. Peter’s Basilica. Visit more than once if you can. Possibly each day. More than once a day. Never leave. Brace yourself for long queues and airport type security. It will be worth it. Carry with you a tissue for when the emotions come rushing out of you at the sight of the Baldachin. Eyes will fill up. Voices will choke. Lips will quiver. If none of this happens to you as you enter the most beautiful of places, know that I am silently judging your stone cold heart.
Feel ignorant in the Vatican museums- Forget the audio guide. And the guide book. Do not sign up for a guided tour with the rest of the tourists. Put on some comfortable shoes, take a long swig of red bull, pop in some multi vitamins, look up art history students who also play private tour guide and prepare for a crash course in history and Bible studies. Ditch the camera and turn off the mobile.
Go to Tuscany to get it out of your system and off your bucket list- Like the gelato and pizza, massively over rated. Stay in a renovated castle, preferably one that has history ex. A castle owned by the Pazzi’s where they plotted to take out the Medici’s. Take a wine tour. If only for Instagram and to come back and eat people’s ears off about it. If you want to delete Tuscany from your itinerary, it would not be the worst thing. A drive from Whitefield to BIAL via Budigere on a sunny afternoon provides the same landscape.
Ladies (and some gentlemen if you happen to be of the persuasion) stay alert and keep your eyes wide open- Italy has more eye candy than a Calvin Klein fashion show. As someone who doesn’t generally get worked up at the sight of the other gender, I giggled more than my share of Mama Mia’s in Rome. God has not been kanjoos in the looks department when creating Italian men. Italian men give you enough attention to flatter but not so much that you need to get out the pepper spray.
Do not have a packed itinerary: One does not need to visit the Basilica, the Trevi fountain, the museums, Colosseum and Naples all in one day. Rome and all her Renaissance scrumptiousness should be savoured, moment by moment. Take your time with that tiramisu in one of Rome’s trattorias. Walk around with no particular destination in mind and just take in the sights and the smells of the city. If smell is high on your agenda, then avoid the area around the Tiber. Rome should not be explored on an empty stomach and a heavy heart. If the husband/father/kids are being pains in the posterior, dump them. At least whilst in Rome. And maybe outside of Rome if you’re so inclined (I cannot give mother mine any more hints).
And finally you will utter the saddest of phrases- Arrivederci Roma and hope that the Gods will be so kind so as to allow you to meet her again.
0 notes
captaindiyblog-blog · 6 years ago
Text
And Paints the Railing Too!
Well folks, it has been a busy fall season here at the Headquarters! Between juggling side hustles, winning awards (one could say that I was nominated for a chain letter, but that’s beside the point), and getting a new boiler, there has been quite a bit going on!
There’s also holding down day jobs and raising kids, but really, how much stuff can I list before it gets ridiculous?
As if all of this wasn’t enough, Mrs. DIY has decided that she has had enough of looking at our crappy back deck. Ok, it’s more like a tiny little porch. Stop judging!
Getting Started
First a little introduction to Mrs. DIY. She is incredibly adept at many things, especially those relating to human psychology and behavior. She makes her money with her brain, and does not have a ton of experience using tools. Did that stop her from trying? No friggin way!
After borrowing a palm sander from a neighbor, she donned a dust mask (a real one, not the one in the link) and got down to sanding. This is an important step, as it removes any flakes and imperfections that might fall off after the stain or paint job, potentially leaving ugly unpainted (or unstained) blotches. Nobody likes blotches. Except that artist who made a fortune throwing paint at the wall.
Nevermind the giant stain on the wall
Getting all the corners
Once the sanding portion was finished, she ran over everything with the shop vac to get rid of the leftover dust. No pics of that, but as she has a bit of an obsession with vacuuming in general, I’m pretty sure that step did not get skipped.
The Painterly Painter
As the floor of the deck was a little damp due to the unending rainfall and high humidity of this bizarrely wet summer, the intrepid and unstoppable Mrs. DIY proceeded to slap a solid coat of exterior latex paint on the wooden toprails around the deck.
Such form! Such grace!
I wisely avoided giving any unsolicited advice or criticism during this process, and therefore was able to avoid ending up with a wet paintbrush contacting my cheek at high velocity. Take note, partners of aspiring DIYers.
Here we see a beautiful before- and after- of the top rail.
After she had finished the rail, she then decided to swing around and hit the front railing with the same procedure. Unfortunately, children only have the mental capacity to reserve Do Not Touch status to one object at a time, and so the front railing was subjected, along with the front door handle and a piece of wall, to unmitigated molestation. Look for an update on removing paint from doorknobs in the future.
Stained By Me (Sung to the Tune of “Stand By Me”)
Unfortunately, though the motivation to continue was strong in the heart of my lovely partner and foreman of the Great Deck Project, the weather was not so congenial. The rains came yet again, and the deck absorbed an unhealthy amount of moisture. Puddles aren’t great at taking deck stain, so the project had to wait.
Eventually, as in a week and a half later, the weather finally cooperated. The deck was fit to be stained!
Look at that cute little thumbs up! (sniff) I’m so proud!
In true fearless DIY fashion, Mrs. DIY grabbed an old paintbrush and a small container and got to work!
Tools of the trade
Having already done the hard part, i.e. sanding, she was able to simply work her way across the deck with a nice thick coat of stain. The nice thing about painting on the floor is you don’t have to worry so much about runs, so it really is a simple and satisfying task.
What a difference!
The trick here, and this is something to be stressed, is not to paint yourself into a corner! Start in a corner and work your way to an exit point, as you won’t be able to walk on it to get out!
That’s it! Wait, Really? That’s It?
Yep, simple as that. once she had a nice coat of stain on there, it was just a matter of waiting a couple of days for it to dry and then it was ready for walkin’!
I should also mention that she came back and did the balusters a little later on as well so everything matched.
And there you have it! A super simple DIY project with a great outcome that will not only help protect your investment but it’ll make it look better too! We spent about $24 for a gallon of stain, and we were easily able to cover our 7’x4’ deck with a tiny portion of it. We also spent a little on the exterior paint (I forget how much exactly, but it was less than the stain) and we used an old paintbrush from the back of the garage, so the whole project was done for less than $40.
Before:
After:
Mrs. DIY spent a total of maybe an hour and a half to two hours on this, and it will protect our deck and hand rails for at least a year, maybe even up to five! Not bad!
Has this inspired you to tackle a project of your own? Let us know about it so we can laugh at y…er, cheer with you!
Mrs. DIY Stains the Deck! And Paints the Railing Too! Well folks, it has been a busy fall season here at the Headquarters!
0 notes
mycraftylittlestitches · 6 years ago
Text
Someone told me that I will remember this summer for the rest of my life.
“You only get one season with a baby, and just a few years with a toddler. Before you know it, you’re back at work paying the bills. You end up missing so much of the good stuff; milestones pass you by and soon they are all grown. Enjoy every second and treasure each and every minute because these years don’t last long.
Soon they will be grown up and you’ll miss the sleepless nights and tantrums; the kisses and perhaps most importantly, having them all to yourself. School comes quickly and real life never slows down even if you wish and dream for it too. The greatest regret you can have as a mother is not enjoying the wonderful times that you have; while they are occurring. The housework will wait and so will all of the useless and humdrum worries, their childhood however will soon be gone.”
You know what? I think she might be right. The past few years have been a challenge (having two small children will do that) but ultimately after I had mostly kicked the Post-Natal Depression out of my life, it’s been a truly wonderful (if occasional infuriating) experience. I’ve grown into a better person for having the experience of two amazing girls needing my constant love and attention. Do I miss having a whole uninterrupted hour of not being poked, prodded and swung off? Oh of course I do; but I wouldn’t have it any other way, even on the days when I’m at the end of my tether and ready to consider if day drinking might be the way of life for me. Thankfully that isn’t often, though I do swear under my breath more than I care to admit. Interesting fact: hearing “Damn it,” said in a sweet, angelic two-year-olds voice is only cute and funny until other people realise what’s she’s saying. True story.
Two beautiful girls, both growing so fast and learning even faster. We’ve just started potty training Evie who is now two years old! TWO. How did this time jump happen? Can someone please tell me how to slow it down?
It seems like just a few days ago that she was sleeping on my bare chest in the hospital. I was gazing in pure wonder at her tiny face, hands and feet. Kissing her little head and whispering “I love you,” so many times that I was sure she would never, ever forget. I told my friend this and she nodded with a bittersweet smile and replied with; “it gets faster every second but they will always stay your babies no matter how old and busy they get.” This is a beautiful thought, though if I’m honest it’s also perhaps a little daunting to know that the job that I spend every second of every day doing will ultimately last a lifetime.
This summer has been amazing! The sun has blazed down and the rain has mostly stayed away. Truly glorious in every way, except our newly laid grass turning to straw. That was… We’ll go with annoying.
Yes. Annoying.
We have played in the garden, sang, danced and laughed at the silliest of things. We learned new skills and perfected the old. Enjoying almost every second while coping with the stresses and anxieties that come hand in hand with parenthood. Cursing our mistakes and taking our triumphs for granted when we should have been overjoyed at how wonderful we have had it.
Toddle’s hat obsession has reached a whole new level where even the lids off of jam jars reach the lofty heights of fashion accessories. Oooh, la la! She has perfected talking in sentences and has started the dreaded “I want” stage.
“Nope. Nope. And nope! Sorry, sweetie but ‘I want’ only get granted occasionally and only if they have a ‘please’ attached for good measure.” *TANTRUM BEGINS* “It’s still a no….” *Thinking ‘for f**k sake. Ground please swallow me whole,’ while smiling at the other staring people and saying “toddlers; aren’t they fun?Hahaha.* At this point I kind of feel like a broken record but apparently it is a passing phase as long as I don’t give in. Fingers crossed that this advice is correct and no one else is enough of a dick to say; “awww, you’re just being mean. Buy her the sweets already…” *TANTRUM INTENSIFIES*
Thanks, dude, that was the opposite of helpful! A small note to any strangers who want to get involved in someone else’s parenting: DON’T unless the kid is in danger or is being mistreated. Not just being denied sweets and another new toy to add to her countless millions! That is how you become enemy number one and make an already stressed and embarrassed mummy or daddy feel ten times worse than they already do!
As for those smug-ass childless/ pregnant with your first child people who love to say in a carrying whisper; “my child will NEVER behave like that.” Looking forward to seeing you eat your words later when your stood in the centre of the supermarket and your kids screaming for a paper clip and not listening when you try to explain that toddlers don’t actually need paperclips. They are also very swallowable so toddlers possibly shouldn’t even have paperclips. Besides the point, why the Hell is the damn thing so interesting. It’s a bleeping PAPER CLIP!
Thankfully I come from a massive family with more kids than it’s possible to count so I knew that even the children that are usually well-mannered, calm and cooperative can become unholy little poos at a moments notice. No kidding myself here, my toddler is mostly good but when she’s bad… She is enough to make a Saint curse the air blue. No joke.
33,35,247,262.673767
34,35,246,265.917542
36,35,249,266.332611
My sweet baby Lily has figured out how to crawl and walk along the furniture and we can’t help but grin at her proud little smile and loud bragging, “BAA BAA BAAAs”. Is there anything more beautiful than the look of a child who feels like they have accomplished something amazing? She loves pushing her little wooden truck over the lawn and attempting to push her sister. 10/10 for effort but not quite there yet. We were also given a massive leftover cardboard box and both the girls and the cat (and my partner, but shhh I didn’t tell you that) have delighted in making box forts. Great fun with the added bonus of keeping them out of the sun and mostly out of mischief. BBQ’s have also been plentiful and so has the gin. All in all it’s been the type of summer which I hope to remember forever.
I keep trying to convince myself that I am in fact a good parent regardless of my cranky ways and anxious need to both keep them safe AND let them explore. It’s a hard balance and honestly, I don’t quite have the hang of it yet, but there is time. Provided I don’t fritter it away like it’s always so tempting to do. I think that we spend so much time wishing away the sleepless nights and tantrums that we forget to hold on to the tiny slobbering kisses, the big boisterous hugs, and the “lub ooooos”.
If I could do the past two years over again I would spend less time worrying about what I’m doing wrong and more time celebrating now many things that I am doing right. Spending less attention on the unsolicited advice and more noticing how my children are thriving regardless of any of the silly and unimportant mistakes I’ve made. Finally, I would be gentler on myself and allow myself time to learn because no one ever truly tells you just how much you have to learn in a mere instant in order to care for another human being.
Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this post then please share and follow me on Facebook and Twitter. I would love it if you could also subscribe to my blog.
A summer to remember. Someone told me that I will remember this #summer for the rest of my life. #parenting #happy #growinguptoofast #toddlerlife #mumlife #love #blog #bloggerswanted Someone told me that I will remember this summer for the rest of my life. "You only get one season with a baby, and just a few years with a toddler.
0 notes
Text
Assisting Anna - Work Experience
Due to previous networking in 2nd Year (in which was emphasised how important it was) an opportunity arose for myself to assist a photographer at a fashion shoot.  I was recommended by Kalpesh Lathigra to help assist Anna Huix, a fine art / fashion photographer from Barcelona.  I was emailed by Anna asking to assist and at first I was unsure on how ti approach this / what I should do.  I had never assisted a photographer before and was nervous to take the opportunity in case I done things wrong.  However, when discussing this with Kal, I realised that Anna knew that as I was a student, I wasn't going to be experienced.  I emailed Anna Huix back to confirm that I would like to assist.  It was an amazing opportunity that I couldn’t pass down, I understood that not only would this give me experience, but it would also extend my knowledge on the process of shoots as well as leading on to other things in the future.  My first and new experience was contacting Anna and conversing with her in regards to speaking about the shoot, obtaining a ‘callsheet', times changing with under 12 hours to go with the shoot.  One aspect I had already understood was how I had to be aware of the emails being sent and how timings etc changed, I had to be mindful about the shoot.  The callsheet sent out was also interesting as I had never seen one before and didn't know that they were sent out.  It included contacts of everyone involved in the shoot as well as the itinerary of the day which was helpful as I could get more prepared for the day.
Before assisting, myself and Charlotte went to the Keyworth Studio to remind ourselves once more about the lighting and setting up as this would be  a large part of our day.  We looked at all the different cables we could encounter (lighting, tethering, light meter reading) as well as familiarising ourselves with lights and the different makes, looking at the settings and dials.  We also practiced putting the umbrella’s, stands and soft boxes on the lights, mounting and dismounting them quickly.  Looking at all of this made me feel much less nervous as I knew how to use them, it refreshed my memory and gave me a better idea on what was expected.
Charlotte & I also got some tips and advice from our lecturers which included;
Acting confident as this creates confidence in the photographer
Try and think ahead in what the photographer wants
Ask Questions - don’t just stand there
If you need help, just ask, they want things done quickly so not asking will just delay
Always ask if there is anything they want doing 
Be prepared and punctual
All of this helped greatly in regards to my confidence and what my roles could include.
I researched further, looking at what a role of an assistant can be, of which there are three categories;
An assistant that is technically skilled, knowing about the various camera, lighting, studio equipment etc
An assistant that knows the basics
A general assistant who helps the photographer in the studio with filing, scanning, retouching, making team, cleaning the studio and idea research
I will be an assistant that knows the basics, and after the shoot, will know more about shoots and improve upon my skills accordingly.
I reproached other tips which included;
Be seen and not heard - do not give unsolicited advice to the client, just help the photographer
Do what needs to be done, and don't be reluctant to get your hands dirty
Anticipate the photographers needs
Be ready and ask questions
Have a positive attitude
Don’t use your phone on set
Follow up with the photographer
These tips are helpful and I will make sure I stick to them when assisting so that I not only see how the process of a shoot occurs, but improve upon my skills also.
On the day of the shoot I made sure I left with an hour to spare to get to East London due to previous problems with transport, as being punctual is very important.  Myself and Charlotte arrived earlier than the photographer which made a good impression.  We then began to meet the team, and was then briefed on the shoot.  It was really interesting and exciting to be in such a beautiful studio with greta equipment as well as working together and being apart of a team, meeting them and understanding their roles.
Firstly we set up a blue background which I had never done before as they are permanently set up in the studio’s at university.  However myself and Charlotte, with the instructions form Anna, managed to set it up quickly and efficiently, learning how to use a new piece of equipment and greeting tips from Anna on how to roll the background sheet so it doesn’t crease etc, which will be useful for the future in my career as well as assisting photographers further.  I then began to help put up the lighting, which was done quickly due to the practice previously.  The lights were ProPhoto which I found simple to use and help with.  
There were two set ups within the studio space, the first was the blue background set up with two ProPhoto lights angled towards the model.  The second was a plain white wall with lights projected onto it to create a gradient from rose pink to orange.  I have never done this and Anna was kind enough to explain to us what she envisioned and how we could achieve this.  It took quite a long time to set this up as the lights had to be precisely light and positioned to create this effect.  This meant a lot of moving the lights, the brightness, moving the reflectors for where the model was to sit and to be a stand in model which I done.  It was beneficial that Anna explained what she wanted  as this helped me to understand the usage of the lights and technical background.  
Once the set ups were complete, I held the reflector for Anna, directing more light at the model.  I used my own initiative and moved the reflector to where I thought to gain the best light, improving my skills on lighting.  Throughout this shoot I helped to move lights, use the reflector and also helped in getting anything that Anna needed.
In the second shoot I again helped with lighting, however this time the ProPhoto lights were losing their battery as another photographer had been on the same radio signal and had kept setting them off previously.  Throughout this shoot when there were breaks for models etc, I kept my eyes on the lighting and charged the battery whenever possible so we didn’t incur any problems with the lighting.  I was also helping to change the background layout, helping to change certain objects such as chairs etc, and being ready to move them etc when Anna wanted them moved again.  I made sure I was prepared and on set so I was ready for Anna as we didn’t have much time to shoot.  
We then helped to pack away, which we had done very quickly, making sure that everything was safe and secure in their compartments, making sure they were in the correct place and putting the studio back to how it was previously.  This was quite stressful as we had about 5 minutes to get everything packed away and cleaned up, but working together, myself and Charlotte managed to do it.
Overall, working with Anna as an assistant was an amazing opportunity as not only was I able to create a relationship with another Photographer, but I expanded my skill set and will now be able to confidently apply for other assisting jobs in the future, knowing what it involves and that I am able do it.  Understanding the process of a shoot, what is involved and how one is carried to has also improved my insight on the matter, which will benefit me in regards to being a photography agent, as I understand how a shoot works.  Knowing this can benefit how I produce shoots, how I work with both clients and photographers and help them with shoots as well as overall knowledge that is needed to be a photography agent.  
0 notes
globalworship · 7 years ago
Text
Psalm 86 for Moms (King David with Sarah Hart)
Sarah Hart is one of my favorite composers, and I’ve featured many of her songs in past blog posts. Today, I’m posting her humorous, true-to-life version of ‘Psalm 86 for Moms.’     :-)
Sarah posted this on Facebook first at https://www.facebook.com/sarahhartmusicofficial/posts/1686783514669928
+++
King David and I wrote this together for Mother's Day; moms, you are amazing and beautiful and spectacular and needed. THANK YOU for all you do, for your children and for this world. You'll make it. Much love moms, and Happy Mother's Day!
Psalm 86 (for Moms)
King David (with Sarah Hart)
Listen, Lord, and answer me, (ANSWER ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU...I feel like I say this a lot) for I am poor (because these people who call me “mom” keep asking me for money) and in need (of a shower).
Protect my life (because most days I feel like these small people are trying to kill me), for I am faithful (to them, even though they are trying to kill me).
You are my God; save Your servant (and theirs, evidently), who trusts in You (even more than the thousands of parenting advice blogs on the internet that consistently remind me of how wrong I am getting this whole mom thing).
Be gracious to me, Lord (when I just need 5 minutes in the bathroom by myself),
for I call to You all day long (which, as you already know, is usually shouted in the form of the word “HELP” from the bathroom).
Bring joy (through the laughter and smiles of my children) to Your servant’s (we’ve already established this) life,
because I turn to You (and scream a lot at the sky).
For You, Lord, are kind (when I am not) and ready to forgive (when I am short-tempered),
rich in faithful love to all who call on You (once more, with feeling… ”HELP”).
Lord, hear my prayer (for their peace and happiness, their mental stability, their open hearts for You, their relationship with me, their father, their siblings and friends);
and listen to my plea for mercy (for those teenage sass-mouths that seem to relay with such ease and eloquence my shortcomings…which I always thought were few but, evidently, are not).
I call on You in the day of my distress (which is pretty much every day),
for You will answer me (always, faithfully, in the way I most need, and sometimes with a glass of wine.)
Lord, there is no one like You among the gods (the gods that the world consistently shoves in my children’s faces –money, technology, power, fame),
and there are no works like Yours (so reveal to my children your miracles, which are constant and beautiful and everywhere.)
All the nations You have made (including this little nation we call ‘family”) will come and bow down before You, Lord (though we may be consistently arriving to said knee-bowing at about the Prayers of the Faithful because we just can’t seem to get our rear ends out the door in a timely fashion) and will honor Your name (every morning, every evening, together).
For You are great and perform wonders (like remember last week when my kids suddenly vacuumed without being asked?? WONDERS!!)
Teach me Your way, Lord, (because the burden of my always being right is just too great) and I will live by Your truth. (though my children may present me at times with “alternative facts”)
Give me an undivided mind (for I am driven to distraction by mounds of laundry and dishes and extra-curricular activities and thousands of e-mails demanding an answer and sometimes Pinterest) to fear Your name (meaning, to call upon it…for you center me).
I will praise You with all my heart, Lord my God (because you are the maker of all good things, like Hot Pockets and juice boxes),
and will honor Your name forever. (grant me grace to teach my children to do the same)
For Your faithful love for me is great (remind me…I forget who I am sometimes in the chaos and in sleepless nights of worry) and You deliver my life from the depths of Sheol. (also known as “emptying the Diaper Genie”)
God, arrogant people have attacked me (usually on Facebook, with unsolicited parenting advice);
a gang of ruthless men have sought my life (actually it was a group of 6-year old boys at a cowboy-themed birthday party, but close enough).
with no regard for You (or for that freshly planted bed of petunias at said party).
But You, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God (because your teenager was never a sass-mouth) slow to anger (because you’ve never stepped on a lego in the dark) and rich in faithful love and truth. (though at times I selfishly wish you would make me rich in doubloons because COLLEGE)
Turn to me (LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU…I feel like I say that one a lot, too) and be gracious to me. (mothers need so much grace. This job is hard. But so beautiful. Please stay with me, God.) Give Your strength to Your servant. (though I gotta say I’ve got some pretty sick mom arms from carrying around my five-year-old who evidently hates the earth)
Show me a sign of Your goodness (these beautiful children whom you have entrusted to me are all the sign I need; thank you, Lord. May I never, ever take them for granted.)
My enemies (I have enemies?...) will see and be put to shame (yeah! Cause I have a bumper sticker that says my star wrestler can beat up your honor student! Oh dear…teach all of us parents humility and kindness, that we may in turn teach our children to be humble and kind) because You, Lord, have helped and comforted me. (and motherhood is something I could never face alone. Thank you, Lord, for helping me along the way; for comforting me when I feel “less than”, for the daily reminders that it is not about me, for teaching me in the school of my heart the meaning of “unconditional”. How grateful I truly, truly am. Amen.)
0 notes