#leticia bloom

[mikexx2]

Jack ages up surrounded by a throng of admirers. Except for Leticia apparently.

Quite suave!

My game lagged for a spell just after he aged up, and then I realised all the townies I’d popped in with Jack were all ageing up - most of them utterly unplayed. What a waste.

[newattitude]

Cazimi - Knife Party - Simple Bloom - Tableau Vivant - par ✰ ​​​​​​​​Pтιтɴoυrѕ Alтer ✰ Via Flickr : ✰ Credit ✰ 

  Cazimi - Simplicity Headband - Slim 

  Tableau Vivant - leLutka EvoX Hairbase 40

  [Simple Bloom] - [SB] Brows: Leticia, Med. Soft Arch, DIAMOND (EvoX) Eyebrows 

  Knife Party - Lucky Eye Makeup // Evo X 

  VENGE - EVO X - 'Stella Luna' Neck Tattoo - Black Fair Event 

  [Celesticat] - Nocturnal Nails - Black Fair Event 

 NEW ATTITUDE ● New Attitude Blog ● Twitter ● Tumblr ● Pinterest ● Instagram ● Flickr ● Facebook

[mrupublishing]

The newest issue of Miss Pin-up magazine is now available for hardcopy and download purchase at: https://www.magcloud.com/browse/issue/2878950

With-

Front Cover:

Miss Nikki Darling

Back Cover:

Samantha Bee

Issue Models:

Leticia Alatriz

Cherry Cheri

Ann Bloom

Amanda Louise

Marie Håkansson

Blaize Vixen

Miss Nikki Darling

Samantha Bee

Molly Roxx

Miss Pin-up magazine is a MRU Publishing creation.

[dsdualstudio]

教師ポイントの変更についてのお知らせ（2024年4月17日～）

いつもD's speakをご利用頂きまして、誠にありがとうございます。

D's speakでは4月17日より、教師ポイントの設定を下記のように変更させていただきます。

＜レッスン予約時教師ポイントの変更＞

時期：4月17日（水）

人数：404名

＜ご注意事項＞ ・ポイント設定は、生徒様からのレビューに加え、教師のスキル、勤務状況等より総合的に判断致します。

・該当の教師をご予約の際、4月17日以降のご予約は新しいポイントが採用されます。ご予約した際の消費ポイントと、表示ポイントに差異が生じることがごいますので、ご注意ください。

40→50

Ashtra

50→60

Abnaire

Akamu

Alicent

Alidon

Alpuerto

Altaria

Always

Anca

Aragen

Ariados

Arsema

Asmodeus

Bacalso

Bagwis

Bailey

Bamboo

Bandillo

Beat

Bellini

Bisutti

Bituin

Bloom

Boneva

Bonham

Boots

Borta

Brienne

Brucato

Bueno

Burbage

Cafrenzy

Calchetti

Caridad

Cashay

Cassandra

Castillo

Catamco

Caylee

Cecelion

Chemistry

Cherubi

Cleveland

Clima

Corden

Cordova

Cosenza

Cultura

Curacao

Custodio

Dalisay

Danzor

Darwin

Dela

Delantar

Dendron

Desantos

Dilka

Doja

Egypto

Emperial

Entice

Escapade

Escapade

Estacio

Europa

Farrell

Faustina

Feather

Feebas

Felgudio

Ferrand

Fishburne

Flexor

Gabriela

Gaffud

Gamboa

Geffer

Giesheen

Goldberg

Grafton

Gullas

Gulliver

Halpeny

Hampsie

Hannover

Harmony

Harokin

Hasset

Helike

Helsinki

Hemlock

Hermelis

Hiwaga

Hofman

Hoopoe

Hortel

Ilaghan

Indra

Insoo

Intal

Irithel

Isildur

Jackman

Jergens

JillmeeJ

orjaJynx

Kajsa

Kalinaw

Kansas

Karenina

Kefiah

Kindat

Kingo

Kwamie

Labiste

Ledachill

Legit

Leticia

Lisbeth

Lisbon

Lylia

Lyra

Maclenon

Magnaye

Manalo

Mariestel

Marreonmatlen

Maxtul

Melnitz

Mertifion

Mesmera

Michigan

Mindy

Montclair

Montoya

Munat

iNahoni

Nami

Nanomech

Nellyvic

Nesbitt

Nestogen

Nickel

Nimbus

Opura

Orion

Otoma

Papyrus

Pelaez

Pencasa

Polanco

Polaris

Poldine

Prezon

Purcell

Rabica

Ravanche

Rindress

Rivka

Robach

Rome

Ron

Roserade

Sadowsky

Salome

Salve

Sandor

Scorpio

Scratch

Sedaris

Sekani

Seth

Shasta

Sim

Sinag

Skylane

Solene

SPRINT

Supreme

Swerte

Swinton

Syracuse

Taystee

Tedros

Temasek

Thadeo

Timari

TORREN

Tousant

Treena

Triah

Tusca

Twist

Tybalt

Vause

Versace

Voshun

Walker

Welrod

Whimbre

Wikino

Wilfon

Wokoma

Wyben

Yennifer

Yogurt

Yusaf

Zackroom

Zerkov

Zubiaga

60→70

Alicia

Amor

Aprilyn

Armadon

Ashlloyd

Asialyn

Ayden

Beatrice

Bona

Bradford

Casita

Celeste

Chansey

Chuck

Dandelion

Davana

Dove

Ejalyn

Emfre

Fe

Fidelity

Haina

Hebrew

Heimdall

Hens

Herrera

Hopper

Jaqen

Kavinsky

Keon

Kojia

kLien

Lolita

Lorelie

Mage

Maineh

Nadera

Nahmae

Nemesia

Rey

Rodelyn

Siacor

Sifra

Tamika

Tippy

Tobias

Trellis

70→80

Anape

Archieven

Arnette

Arrmae

Astradell

Carmelita

Charyl

Curlyn

Emmy

Gia

Gracemae

Hasan

HeidiIsla

Jivieline

Joya

Kathleen

Kiva

Madhura

Maxima

Oprah

Pecan

Peggy

Riammey

Solovey

Sorela

Sylvianah

Thea

Zosia

75→80

Bey

Griffin

80→90

Clark

Costello

Dhyme

Dice

Issarey

Judgekarma

Marikris

Onnah

Priscilla

Quinoa

Tory

Yeddah

90→100

Andra

Chu

Connor

Damian

Dawn

Daysha

Derick

Drip

Elise

Fayre

Jerika

Lindesa

Nevada

Nythani

Preen

Raelynn

Riley

Zinnia

100→110

Curtis

Fahima

Giv

Gracia

Haddish

Myrna

Rapnel

Smitten

Spirit

110→120

ShelbySundae

120→130

Behati

130→140

Cedri

100→90

Ramona

Arycris

80→70

Balinger

KEANU

Kimverlyn

80→70

Balinger

Keanu

Kimverlyn

70→60

Kinshasa

Margarette

Pillar

60→50

Archellou

Arini

Cavill

Cedan

Cinnamon

Contigo

December

Ecru

Edinburg

Eleanor

Eruption

Ethan

Flores

Folino

Froakie

Frontera

Gillette

Golda

Ingvild

Isonoe

Jancy

Jaypee

Joymil

Ladyrose

Lithium

Longmont

Lorcan

Maan

Magus

Mobile

Morpheus

Neymar

Ornopia

Pelipper

Pembroke

Penshoppe

Pentax

Prepon

Presto

Prussian

Setenil

Sheldon

Stanley

Swaylee

Tino

Tobeck

Valir

Virtue

Weng

Yonker

Zetta

50→40

Bixler

Ganados

Lonsdale

Loudred

Lucero

Poppern

Rhapsody

引き続きD's speakをどうぞよろしくお願いいたします。

[adolfi]

Spend A Day on the Amazon River // Leticia, Amazonas Uncover the true essence of bliss as you drift along the ethereal Amazon River, embraced by the serenity of Leticia, Amazonas. Let your senses bloom amidst the vibrant tapestry of flora and fauna, as you succumb to the enchantment of a day spent on South America's most awe-inspiring natural masterpiece.

[tvlanddryspell]

Spend A Day on the Amazon River // Leticia, Amazonas

Uncover the true essence of bliss as you drift along the ethereal Amazon River, embraced by the serenity of Leticia, Amazonas. Let your senses bloom amidst the vibrant tapestry of flora and fauna, as you succumb to the enchantment of a day spent on South America's most awe-inspiring natural masterpiece.

[fashioninsl]

Simple Bloom por Luah Benelli Via Flickr: Skin: Simple Bloom - Skin Leticia v3.0 (Sienna/Velour) LeL EvoX Top: REED - Brisa Top Exclusive @Cosmopolitan Hair; Stealthic - Tender Hair Necklace: Kibitz - Lucia's Necklace Hoops: (Yummy) - Hoops Set

[mrgaus]

[Selfie] #1071 by Gaus Via Flickr: Head - LeLUTKA EVO X [XIA] Skin - EMMA (no brows) by avarosa Simple Bloom HD Brows, Leticia M. Soft Arch. Shape - featuredbyGaus

[krshndra]

Letitia

As if the gods are in rage and the goddesses are wreaking havoc. The night sky was filled with dark clouds pouring heavy rain, accompanied by rumbling thunder and roaring lightning. Not long after, the sky was loaded with darkness and gloom. The sky was pitch black, as were the hearts of these two parents, who were in agony from the loss of their daughter. The sound of the police sirens, together with the cry and plea of the mother, filled the quiet neighborhood. The red and blue lights that symbolize safety were what surrounded these two, but the news that they have contradicts what they symbolize. It was then that the parents' cry turned into a scream, a scream for their now-lost daughter.

The once dark and gloomy sky was now painted with a radiant and clear color. The light of the warm sun and the chirping of tiny birds calmed the hearts of Roberto and Alora. The clocks continued ticking, trees continued growing, flowers continued blooming, and in an instant, 16 years had passed. Ever since they lost their daughter, Roberto and Alora have become more dependent on each other in order to heal their broken hearts. They spent their days as normal couples would. They laugh with each other, dance together, and take trips together. One fine day, they decided to take a stroll around their village, walking hand in hand, greeting their neighbors, and gazing at the starry night full of stars.

It was then that their stargazing was cut short when drops of rain poured in, followed by a heavy downpour. The sky that was calm just a moment ago was now wailing to its heart's content. The two hurriedly fled to their house. As soon as they stepped into their doorway, they were stopped in their tracks as they saw a familiar pair of shoes. Roberto unlocked the door and opened it slowly, making a creaking sound. Their tiny footsteps became loud as they led themselves to the room where light is seeping in as the door is not properly closed, to the room where memories of a little girl were stored and abandoned. Once more, Roberto pushed the door, which made a creaking noise. The terror that they felt intensified as they saw the familiar back of a girl. Even when years had passed and the sweet little girl had matured, it was undeniable that the woman standing before them was their daughter.

"Leticia" Alora called her daughter with a trembling voice oozing with terror. The latter greeted them, "Long time no see, mother and father. I missed the both of you. Now, don't you miss your daughter that you both killed years ago?" As she turned around to them with a sinister smile plastered on her face.

[icnss]

like or c) @hqspilots

[mikexx2]

Can we just check in on Leticia Bloom for a moment? She is very possibly the prettiest sim I have ever made. Sorry to all the other pretty ones but NONE of you can work these curly bangs like she does.

[need-a-fugue]

Trustworthy (Chapter Two)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating… and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Language... shitty language. And maybe sheer size? This one’s nearly 6,000 words... I may have gotten a little carried away. 😬

It began as a drunken joke, a flippant what if…

“If no one else is gonna do it,” you’d slurred out, voice barely above a whisper despite the cantina being utterly empty aside from the two of you, “we should take the motherfucker out ourselves.”

He’d laughed at the time, and promptly cut you off before insisting on walking you home. He helped you along the uneven streets of Leticia, held back your hair as you blew chunks into a dark alley, even slept on your couch that night just to make sure you didn’t die in your sleep. That’s what he told you, anyway. But you suspected that Santiago stuck around that night because he just couldn’t get your words out of his head.

You hadn’t been so drunk that you’d failed to notice the way he went eerily silent following your seemingly ludicrous suggestion. You hadn’t been so far gone that you’d missed the sudden glint to his eyes, nor the crooked smile that wrapped around his face as you said the words, “I want Lorea dead.”

That next morning, he brought it up casually, asking – before you even had the chance to brush your teeth – if you remembered what you’d said. When you told him you remembered every part, he simply told you to go on, nodding slowly along as you dove headfirst into a painfully impulsive proposal, your words still tinged with a lingering, drunken idealism. You spilled out the disparate thoughts you’d been harboring for months, if not longer – the ones that together formed little more than the ill-conceived beginnings of a damn stupid plan – only to discover that they were precisely in line with what he’d been contemplating as well.

By the end of the week, you were introducing him to your longtime informant, a woman who’d worked for Lorea in some capacity for years. A gorgeous woman, whom you’re almost entirely certain Santi fell into bed with later that same night. And after just a few months of nearly constant off-the-record investigating – both of you becoming utterly consumed by the thought of bringing Lorea down – that crazy, ridiculous, fucked-up joke you’d made had become a highly illegal, morally questionable, might-just-get-you-fired-and-thrown-into-a-federal-prison plot for ending the reign of one of the premier drug traffickers in South America.

You’d started it. There was no denying that. You’d started the whole damn thing.

For nearly three years, you fought the good fight with Santiago Garcia down in Colombia. He was one of just a handful of people there whom you trusted. He actually was one of just a handful of people there you even really knew.

If you ever got to chose an advisor to head up a mission, he’d be it. Any raid that fell within your purview, he’d help to organize. Intel was slow in coming, CIs dropping off, bosses telling you not to leave Leticia and to remember to stay in your lane? No problem. Garcia to the rescue.

He was able to operate largely independently – unlike poor, bound-by-the-rules-and-regulations-of-the-DEA you. Local cops and the surrounding military actually liked him and never balked at bringing him in, mostly because he was more than capable of playing along with their bullshit. Hell, he was so good at it, that for the first few months you knew him, he had you convinced that he either completely bought into the very obvious corruption surrounding that Amazonian paradise, or – if he really didn’t see it – he was dumber than a fucking box of rocks.

But Santiago Garcia never missed a damn thing. And while he might have seemed to have written off the actions of certain officials or the peculiarities you both encountered, he never ignored – nor forgot – the individuals he suspected of collusion. He was just smart enough to know when to act.

You, on the other hand, well, you never were very good at not calling people out. For all your life, if you saw something that seemed funky, you’d say something… immediately. If you ever suspected someone of lying, plotting, taking bribes, just plain being dirty, you’d raise an accusing finger high. Hell, that’s the main reason you got sent down to that southernmost point of the country, transferred away from what you saw as being the real goings-on, to simply help keep an eye on the drug runs taking place at the border.

Santiago taught you to quell your initial reactions of raising a stink when you believed something was amiss. He urged you to stop seeing the word in a never-ending list of black and white rules. He showed you how to keep from boiling over and calling people out, a thing that undoubtably kept you from getting yourself reassigned somewhere you’d be less of a nuisance… again.

He also fed you intel, shared specifics of his suspicions, and helped get you into military-run raids where DEA might otherwise have been shut out. And in the time in between – when you would normally just stalk around your small apartment all alone or perhaps stalk about the city… also all alone – he provided friendship, that not-so-tiny thing you’d been lacking ever since getting transferred from your post and away from the workmates and friends you’d had for years in Mexico.

He was fun and sharp-witted and outgoing, eager to make friends with just about anyone. He invited you out for drinks, dancing, into local card games. And though you often wondered why – did he feel sorry for you because the local police and military alike treated you like a damn leper? Was he trying to show others that you were alright, despite being a gringa DEA agent? Did he simply want to fuck you? – you’d be lying if you were to say that you didn’t feel damn lucky he’d stumbled into your life and forced his friendship upon you.

And how did you repay him? For all of the invites he’d extended, all the drinks purchased, all the intel he threw your way, all the military-run raids he somehow managed to get you in on? All of the trust and faith he invested in you?

You’d set him on a path to ruin.

000

The bar was much larger than you’d anticipated, the quick drive-by you did on your way to the motel earlier this afternoon making the freestanding structure – out in the middle of nowhere, like everything else in this Bumblefuck, USA town – appear small. Maybe it was because the massive parking lot dwarfed it. Maybe it was because you were only half awake, at best, and just didn’t notice the size of the place. Maybe it was because Santiago drove past it at 65 miles per hour, alerting you to it – that’s where we’ll meet up tonight – just as you flew by, allowing little more than a meager glimpse.

Regardless, you expected… less.

But the place is huge. There are two bars on either side of the sprawling building and tables flanking the wide-open center, which you could only imagine would at some point be flooded with drunken townies, eager to dance the night away.

When you first arrived – well over an hour ago – it had been just you and a handful of incredibly loud bros populating the place. You took off for the far bar, ordered yourself a drink, and slinked into a large table in a dark corner, eager to remain invisible until Santi arrived with his friends… his crack team. But – just as you’d come to expect from Garcia – he was nearly an hour late, and by the time he and his brothers-in-arms strolled in, you’d already been spotted by the douchebags at the bar and had to fight off the advances of two separate assholes, each of whom only approached you when making their way back from the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, bonita,” Santiago had proclaimed with a wide smile and a not-at-all-stifled laugh after you told him of your troubles. He turned to face the group of strangers at the bar, caught the glares of a few of them, and shouted over a simple dictate to, “Fuck off!”

And that had been the cap to your introduction to your new co-workers. They strode in, all smiles and laughter and blooming drunken glows, coming from what must have been a great fight night, undoubtably made all the better by being together once again, only to be forced to shake hands with you… a jetlagged stranger, washed out in the low light, obviously frazzled by having a guy fresh from the men’s room – who probably didn’t even bother to wash his hands – wrap an arm around your shoulder and tell you that the bathroom door locks… in case you wanted to check it out with him later.

They took your uncomfortable story in stride, exchanging pleasantries and apologizing again for their tardiness – well, Will apologized at least – before grabbing some drinks and then plopping down at the isolated table you’d chosen.

For a bit, the group of them just talk to one another, tying up loose ends to the conversations they’d been having before arriving. You catch snippets of nah, man, she’s gone… didn’t work out and do you have any idea how expensive kids’ soccer is? as their conversation flows around you, seemingly oblivious to your existence. For those first ten minutes or so – save Santiago’s paltry threat shouted across the bar and Benny’s rather flirtatious introduction – the whole team settles in around you and acts as though you aren’t even here at all.

The only exception during this time is the pilot, Frankie Morales – had Santi called him Fish? He keeps quiet as the others speak, cracking a smile at their comments every now and then, but mostly nursing his beer and awkwardly picking at the label in silence. Every so often, he steals a glance over at you, as if to say, yeah, I know you’re here. His eyes are warm and friendly despite the otherwise utterly unreadable expression planted on his face.

Maybe you’re simply intrigued by the fact that he’s the only one actively acknowledging your presence, or it could be that you’re just rather curious to figure out what his placid expression is hiding. Or perhaps you’re merely a fan of the subtle beauty that his sharp profile paints on the background of the dark, seedy bar. Whatever the reason, you find yourself not just staring but gazing at the man long after he looks away.

“So, shoot me straight,” Will says suddenly, nudging your shoulder and tearing into your thoughts as he turns to face you. Your eyes bounce wildly away from Frankie’s face, a heat creeping up your neck as you light on the patient smile of the man next to you. “That file… it’s your work, right?”

“Hey,” Santiago scoffs from across the table, leaning over to backhand his friend in the chest. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Will’s face cracks and a deep rumble of a laugh spills out of him as he bites out, “It’s good work. Too good to come from your sorry ass.”

Santi scoffs, his hand flying to his heart with a wounded quality. You simply shrug, small smirk perking your lips as you feel some of the initial tension of the gathering – and the strange concern that you might actually have somehow become invisible – finally start to lift. “He helped,” you say, tone coy.

“Oh, c’mon,” Santiago gripes, giving you a slightly irritated, definitely amused look. “Half that intel came from me. The PNC, Colombian military, they barely even acknowledge you’re there.”

You interrupt with a snort and a scathing, “Yeah… it’s really fucking annoying when people do that,” before choking down the rest of your beer.

If he understands the jibe about your current situation, he doesn’t let on, instead pushing his point that, “None of them would’ve given you jack shit.”

“And the one informant who actually got all this started?” you counter, accusing brow raised high. “Who’s informant was that?”

His face begins to blush, just a bit of redness seeping into his cheeks, as he reaches out to grab your empty bottle. “She was mine in the end,” he mutters, shoving back from the table and rising from his stool. “I’ll get the next round.”

“Yeah,” you call out after him. “You owe me more than just a beer for stealing my CI!”

“I’ll get you a shot too!” he throws over his shoulder, never looking back as he makes his way to the bar.

You turn back to the men surrounding you, each of them now eyeing you warily, and a part of you wants to go back to when they ignored your presence entirely. Tom – what did Santiago call him? Redfly? – is the first to break the awkward silence, ticking his chin in your direction. “So,” he starts before pulling a long breath in through his nose. “DEA.” He overenunciates each letter and states rather than questions your affiliation, despite there being an inquisitive – or is it accusing? – glint to his eye.

“Yeah,” you say with a lingering nod. “Yep. DEA.”

“They teach you about this kind of thing?” Will asks, his drawl deep and languid. You turn to look at him, the imposing man by your side, and feel your shoulders tighten all over again when you see that the stern expression he had worn when first shaking your hand has returned. But then something lightens, the corner of his mouth ticking up just a bit, his gaze softening as your eyes meet. You’re certain that he can sense the rise in tension, understands with just a glimpse of your face that you’re way out of your element here. Intimidated. Nervous. And while the softening of his countenance doesn’t wipe away your anxiety completely, you do at least appreciate the attempt.

Ben, the tall, younger man flanking your other side, must notice the unease building up inside you too. He leans in and bops you with his shoulder, a light, buoyant laugh bursting out of him. “Aw, hell,” he emits breathily. “Leave her alone. If Pope trusts her, she’s got to be good.”

“Not saying she’s not good,” Will intones, shooting you a quick wink that, oddly, really does manage to set you at ease. “Just wondering how much experience she has with ops like this.” His eyes start to sparkle as they lock onto yours once again. “So, sweetheart, you ever pull a recon mission deep in the jungle?”

You offer an evasive shrug and release a tightly held breath. “I got lost in a corn maze once. Had to find my way out on my own. Probably would’ve starved in there if I hadn’t had the presence of mind to bring a funnel cake in with me.”

On your left, Ben snorts out another laugh, and across the table you see Frankie try to maintain that straight, impassive face. But Will’s deadpan expression doesn’t shift in the least. “Well,” he says with a sigh, bringing his nearly empty beer bottle up to his lips. “I guess that is pretty damn close.”

“Ha, ha,” Tom mocks. He waits to go on until you look his way, and once you do he levels you with what can only be described as a fatherly stare – oddly disappointed and imploring, stern and warm all at the same time. “We’re all very glad to hear that you have a sense of humor.”

“Very glad,” Ben interjects with a wide grin.

“But,” he continues, “You’re not gonna go in there and be part of this unless you can convince us that you’re capable.”

Santiago’s voice cuts in then, sounding over the clink of beer bottles as he lays out the next round on the table. “She’s capable,” he states simply before sliding back into his seat next to Frankie. “We’ve been on…” he glances over at you, “how many raids now?”

“At least a dozen,” you answer.

He gives a firm nod and lets his eyes drift between the men at the table. “She’s done good every time. Stays outta the way, does what she’s told.”

Your brow wrinkles and tugs tightly together, deep frown taking over your face. “Jesus, Garcia. I’m not a fucking dog.” He gives a quick laugh, but says nothing, prompting you to defend yourself. “I’ve worked with military advisors for years. Most of my career has been spent working alongside foreign armies and police forces. I’m not just some kind of desk jockey, I promise you that.”

“This is different.” The words flow across the table, the deep rumble sliding just beneath the reverberating bass coming from the jukebox in the corner. You look up and lock onto Frankie’s eyes, note immediately the hesitancy building behind them. He raises his brows as he looks at you, almost into you, and says simply, “This isn’t a raid. This isn’t some amateur hour bullshit put on by the local cops. And you won’t have the military or CNP or the US government at your back if something goes wrong.”

You nod, wanting – for some inexplicable reason – to pull your gaze from him, but finding that you just can’t. “I know. I get that.”

“Do you?”

Santiago gives his friend a little shove, just enough to cause him to look his way, breaking the odd hold he has over you. “She’s a good shot,” he tells him, tells all of them. “And she’s done enough undercover work for me to know that she sure as shit can keep her head.” He looks over at you again – “I still don’t know how you managed to get out of that shit in the comuna last year.” – and then gives a wry little laugh as his head shakes absently.

“Alright,” Tom mutters just as he slams down an empty bottle and reaches over to grab a new one. “She follows orders and keeps her cool… at least we can work with that.”

Benny nudges you with his elbow and when you look up at him you’re met with the widest, sunniest of smiles – never mind the deep split in his lip from the fight that he claims to have won just a few hours prior. “Hear that? That’s just about the best kind of approval you’ll ever get from Redfly.”

“Approval?” Tom shoots across the table. His voice drops an octave as he aims a serious stare over at you. “I’m still not convinced that we can actually trust you.”

“Jesus,” Santi breathes out with an annoyed air. “You really think I’d bring her here… hell, you think I’d have put all this together with her if I didn’t think – know – that she can be trusted?”

He shrugs. “You haven’t really known her that long,” he mutters thickly, his expression slipping back into something wary as he folds his arms across his broad chest and falls into a speculative silence as he mulls over his friend’s words.

You watch him closely, trying to discern what exactly he’s thinking. But long before you’re able to draw any sort of conclusion, Benny bumps you with his shoulder again and says simply, “Don’t worry about it, darlin’. He’s onboard.”

There’s a part of you that balks at the darlin’, just as you had almost called Will out on his use of sweetheart. But the truth is – both times – the names are uttered with a casual, even reassuring, cadence that you’re certain holds no demeaning intent. And you’ve been in enough male-dominated circles over the years to be able to discern at least that much. Even the way Ben’s looking at you now – genuine grin and kind eyes – seems to hold no innuendo. So you let it slide.

“How long did it take him to trust you?” you ask, the tension in your shoulders lifting when a throaty chuckle bubbles out of him.

“Oh, I don’t know that he does. I don’t know if Tom really trusts anyone.”

A snort of a laugh rings from the other end of the table, surprisingly coming from the Doubting Thomas himself. “You’re so full of shit,” he mumbles as he sits back upright and grabs his beer. He takes a giant swig and tacks on for good measure, “Besides, nothing wrong with being… cautious. My being – ”

“A distrustful prick,” Santiago interjects brazenly.

“Whatever you want to call it,” he counters with a faux-saccharine lilt. “It’s saved all your asses more than a time or two. Hasn’t it?”

There’s a quick round of almost wistful snickers from nearly all the men, each seeming to light onto a particular memory, their gazes faltering and ticking briefly off towards nothing. The exception is Frankie, who simply stares down at the battered beer bottle in front of him, sticker half peeled off and clinging to his fingernails as he continues to work at it with a frown. “What about this informant of yours,” he says, low voice slicing into the newfound silence. He shifts nervous eyes over to the man at his right. “You’re sure she can be trusted?”

Without hesitation, Santiago nods. “I’m sure of it. And besides, we’re not basing all of this just on her word. You read the file, right?” He glances over at you and ticks his chin in your direction. “We checked it out. We’ve been out there enough to get a lay of the land. We’ve seen the deliveries of cash coming in… and not going back out.”

Will speaks next, his words soft and slow. “Could all be a setup… a giant, well-planned setup.”

You shake your head. “No. No, it’s legit.” Five sets of eyes turn to you, drilling into you for something more substantial. But the truth is, all that you have is in that file. And, yeah, it could be an elaborate setup. Or – more likely than that – just a really, really bad idea. But your gut says it’s neither. Your gut says that this whole damn thing is the only way to put an end to Lorea’s ever-growing cartel.

Tom’s eyes narrow at you once again, suspicion still lingering in his glare. “How’d this all happen, huh? How’d you even get involved with this… this shit-brain scheme?” he asks before the serious countenance begins to crack and he blows out a harsh chuckle. “How’d Pope sucker you into all this?”

Santiago answers before you get a chance to even open your mouth. “I didn’t sucker anybody into anything. And I don’t use the same callsign down there, so…”

Your eyes flash over to meet his, face splitting into an insolent grin. “Pope…” you mutter, popping the p at the end. “How exactly did you get that name, anyway?”

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to know.”

“He spent his first firefight hailing Mary through the coms,” Will chimes in with a teasing lilt. “All damn night.”

“I was nineteen.” He defends… almost whines. “You wanna tell her how you got Ironhead?”

He shrugs and takes another pull of his beer. “I’m not embarrassed.”

Frankie smirks from the other side of the table as he issues out under his breath, “You should be.”

Your eyes bounce eagerly back and forth between the men, silently pleading for someone to tell you the story of Will’s ridiculous moniker. But it seems that you’ve once again gone invisible.

“Hey, he held that record for a solid decade,” Benny mutters beside you. “And I’m pretty sure that dipshit, MacCovey, cheated to take the title.”

“How can you cheat at that?” Frankie asks with an incredulous laugh.

“He cheated.”

“Cheated at what?” you blurt out, eager to just hear the tale. “Ironhead’s a title? With a record? For what?”

Will pivots in his seat, flashing you a smug grin as he rather haughtily announces, “Record for the most concussions sustained during basic training. And no one can take Ironhead away from me… especially not some hardheaded kid from freaking New York.”

“How do you know he was from New York?” Santi asks.

Frankie cocks his head at his friend too. “You met him?”

“Didn’t he die?” Tom interjects, confusion suddenly weaving through the lot of them.

“Did he?” Will asks. “Shit, guess he wasn’t that hardheaded after all.”

Benny leans forward to address them all. “He didn’t die. Just lost a leg. Roadside bomb.”

“Shit,” his brother repeats solemnly.

“Was supposed to be his last tour too. Well, guess it still was.” He looks down for a somber beat before lighting on Frankie. “And I heard that he never actually hit his head when he fell off that tower, so… cheated.”

Throughout all of the back and forth, you just sit, eyes wide, expression both amused and deeply concerned. “Jesus,” you finally breathe out once everyone falls quite. You turn to Will, look a little closer at him as though you might be able to discern some of the damage done so many years ago. “Are you… okay?”

He lets out a hearty laugh and raps his knuckles on his skull. “Nothing to worry about here,” he tells you with a wide smile. “Ironhead, remember?”

Tom snorts and shakes his head skeptically. “Tune’ll change when that CTE shit kicks in… start wandering around the neighborhood, talking to yourself, picking fights with people in grocery stores.” He stops short and flashes a shit-eating grin. “Oh wait…”

The joke – if there even really is one – is lost on you. But Will must get it, because his face flashes in irritation, a mere, “Very funny,” falling from his lips as he brings his beer bottle up to meet them.

You let out a sigh – “I’m confused.” – and choose to ignore Tom in favor of getting more of the story from Ironhead himself. “Did you get concussions on purpose? Why does this seem to be some kind of source of pride?”

“It wasn’t on purpose…”

“What about that full can of soup you tried to crush on your head?” Frankie interjects with a raised brow.

“Yeah, alright, there was that one,” he concedes.

Your forehead furrows deeper. “If you were always getting hurt, why didn’t they call you something like, Falls-a-Lot or Unlucky Charms or just Blockhead?”

He stares at you for a long moment, face hardening into a stoic set. “Wasn’t Tom asking how you got yourself into all this? Wasn’t that what we were talking about?”

You offer a nonchalant shrug. “Don’t think we were really talking about it…”

“She basically started it,” Santiago states simply. “I mean, I was in the minute she brought it up, completely in. But it was her shit-brained scheme from the get-go.”

“Really?” Tom smarts, skeptical look once again riding his face as he takes a pull from his beer.

“Look,” you begin, tone painfully sincere, “I’ve been on the losing end of this battle for years. And the people down there, the families… the kids he recruits…” You stop for a beat and slowly, bitterly shake your head. “Lorea, and all the others like him… It’s their turn to lose.”

Tom nods, his gaze never breaking from yours. “You do realize you sound just like him,” he mutters, ticking his chin towards Santi. “Seriously,” he begins, stare serious, but tone glib. “Did you two hatch this crazy little plan together in bed?”

You glance over at Garcia, quickly taking note of the burning blush creeping up his neck as he hides beneath his baseball cap and tries not to laugh. Then, on their way back to Tom, your eyes light on Frankie. He too is ducking his head. But he doesn’t seem to be laughing like the others. Rather, from what you can make out beneath the shadow of his hat, he looks… embarrassed. No. Dejected.

Your heart skips a beat and you blurt out suddenly, “We’re not sleeping together,” a little too loudly to come across as anything other than agonizingly defensive. The laughter intensifies and you clear your throat before going on to say, “Garcia’s usually too busy fucking his informants to ever even think of giving me the time of day.”

Benny just about loses it, his body pulsating with fits of giggles as he leans back a bit and reaches out to give you a high five. You oblige, a small, crooked smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as you see Santiago shift across from you. He peers at you from beneath the ballcap, eyes dark and smile wide as he says, voice deep and honeyed, “Oh, bonita, trust me, I’ve thought about it.”

You roll your eyes and tip back the nearly empty bottle to your lips, draining the last dregs of your beer before rising and stating, “I’ll get the next round… as long you guys promise to do nothing but regale me with embarrassing stories about Pope for the rest of the night.”

000

Jetlag. It’s something you’ve experienced countless times over the years, hopping from place to place, office to outpost to field. And yet you’ve never really managed to get used to it, the bone-deep fatigue kicking your ass after each and every trip you’ve ever taken. A full day of travel, and now a full night of drinking, and by the time the lot of you stumble out of the bar, you’re barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

“Lightweight, huh?” Benny jokes as he pushes past you on the way to his car.

You grumble under your breath, something akin to, shut the fuck up, though your words aren’t all that put together right now either. But Ben doesn’t hear any of it anyway, he’s already giving his brother an unforgiving shove in the nearly empty parking lot and laughing maniacally as he dodges the lazy retaliatory punch.

“Don’t mind him,” Frankie mutters from behind you. You stop and turn, squinting through the harsh halogen light piercing your eyes as you look up at him. He notices the pained grimace you give and lets out a light chuckle as he takes your elbow and swings you back around to lead you to the car. “You seem more tired than drunk to me,” he says with a lilt as he easily slips his arm beneath yours for a little extra support.

Without thinking, you let your head tip to the side and rest on his shoulder. “Soooo tired,” you bemoan. A deep rumble of a laugh pulls from Frankie’s chest, reverberates up and through his entire body so that you feel it vibrate into you. It makes you smile. It makes you tuck yourself in a little closer. You stumble a bit, your toe catching on a crack in the pavement, and before you can even think to right yourself, his arm pulls away and reaches around, the warmth of his hand splaying across your hip as he steadies you. “Maybe a little drunk too,” you admit with a sigh.

If he thinks it’s odd that you’ve burrowed so close to him, or if he’s the least bit uncomfortable with your fingers now clinging to the back of his shirt, or if he’s irritated at having to slow to a crawl to help you to Santiago’s car, he doesn’t show it. Instead he easily slows his pace to match yours, giving your hip a little squeeze as he says, “Hey, sorry about earlier.”

Your shuffling stops as you pull back to look up at him with a confused frown. “You mean telling that story about Santiago’s ex? I don’t think I’m the one… to apologize…” Your brow furrows even deeper as you try to sift through what you just said, trying to determine if it makes any sense.

He lets out another low laugh, the sound quickly becoming a new favorite tune. “No. I mean about…” He hesitates for a moment, the smile slowly melting from his face. “When I was… questioning you. Whether or not you’re up for this. And, you know, whether or not you’re getting played.”

“Oh,” you bark out, far louder than intended. “Yeah, no.” You wave it off and waste no time at all – fatigue and alcohol both wiping away any embarrassment you might otherwise feel at plastering yourself up against a near stranger – falling back into him.

He chuckles again as he hikes you a bit higher and leads you over to the tiny blue rental car in the corner of the lot. “It’s just… I know you put a lot of work into gathering the intel. And I know this is… important to you. Or you wouldn’t be here. But still…”

You turn your face into his shoulder, his chest, unabashedly breathing in the musky scent from the collar of his jacket as you mumble into him, “I promise not to fuck it up. At least not too bad.”

“Hey!” Garcia calls out from the car, swinging the back door open as you two approach. “You getting handsy with my girl?”

Frankie snorts out a laugh, incredulous, almost sardonic, and not nearly as endearing as the ones that have been rumbling into you for the last however many glorious minutes it’s been. “Not your girl,” you mutter blandly. “Too risky… too many possible diseases.”

“Hilarious,” he deadpans, standing back as Frankie helps you into the car, his palm pressing gently on the back of your head to make sure you duck inside safely. “She took like five Xanax on the flight in,” he tells his friend with a snicker. “Probably shouldn’t have let her drink so much on top of that.”

“Hate flying,” you breathe out as you settle back, harshly tugging at the seatbelt to your left.

Frankie shakes his head in amusement as he watches you grow increasingly frustrated with the non-cooperative seatbelt. “How can you hate flying?” he asks, crooked smile stretching across his face.

You stop the infernal struggle and collapse back into the seat, “Fucking hate it,” coming out of you in a petulant whine.

“Alright,” he murmurs amid a snicker as he leans into the car, easily tugging the seatbelt out and reaching around to buckle you in. Your eyes droop further, slipping closed as he pulls back out of the car, fading into the night. “You guys good?” you hear him ask, the deep tenor of his voice sounding even more melodic when penetrating the dark.

“Yeah,” Santiago tells him, fatigue drowning just that single word. “We’re over at the Motor Inn. Just a few miles up. Listen, Frankie… thanks for this. Really. This…” You almost open your eyes again, want to just to see if the expression on Garcia’s face matches the earnestness in his tone. “This isn’t just a standard op, you know. To me. To her. This is… just… thanks.”

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “Well, uh… I’ll see you Thursday.”

The only other sounds you hear before slipping away entirely are the door gently closing beside you, the engine starting up in a soft roar, and Santiago muttering, seemingly to himself from the front seat, “I am not carrying your ass to bed.”

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[newattitude]

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[peachlolitasevillacourtstuff]

Winx club; Magix world: Chapter 1; the fairy on earth

Bloom.

Bloom's mother entered her daughter's room to pick her up.

─Bloom! Bloom wake up you're going to be late for class!

─OH NO! BECAUSE IT DIDN'T SOUND MY ALARM! Wait a minute, the semester is over Mama!

Bloom said annoyed at being woken up.

─Come on, Bloom, get up, you're not going to hang around in your room all day, right!

─No, but I couldn't take another day at school!

─Well, but at least do something on vacation like help us in the family business !?

Mrs. Cambielli said in spirits, Bloom Leticia Cambielli was a 16-year-old girl who had just finished the third semester of high school, Bloom was had beautiful crimson hair and beautiful blue eyes, and fair and normal skin, The Italian villa in where Bloom grew up was a village well known for having large fertile fields and spring birds that always flew everywhere, Mrs. Vanessa owned a flower shop and some botanical supplies, and Mr. Mike was a former firefighter but currently the supervisor of His wife's flower shop, Mr. Mike had a time when he traveled to the United States, Bloom knew a little English thanks to her father, Bloom always dreams of being a professional chef and going to the United States of America, although the bad it is the fact of the financial hardship that she and her parents have grappled with in recent years.

─My partner mixie will go to the beach in Naples this year, can't we go to a beach or something like that?

Asked Bloom

─No Bloom we have been having problems in the business, lately what we earn is only to be able to cover insurance and food.

I mention Mrs. Vanessa

─Exactly Bloom our money is not enough to cover such an expensive trip, but as long as you focus on school, and you will get a scholarship to go to university.

Mr Mike said.

─And then where can I go?

─Well, there are many people in the park, everyone in the village, most of them are gathering there, you can go out for a ride on your bike with kiko, and so you kill boredom.

─That sounds very good ... come on Kiko, we will go to the park.

A bluish rabbit jumped on Bloom's heels, Kiko has been Bloom's pet for the last 3 years, and her best little friend since then, Bloom went out to the garage to get her bike, moving it threw a few things including a old book that I haven't seen in so many years.

─History of fairies, I remember this book, it has been so long since I read it, but who am I to read a children's story I am no longer 7 years old ...

Bloom said keeping the book in her room, when she went out into the streets she was greeted by some neighbors and acquaintances of the town, among all her schoolmate, Mixie.

─Hello Bloom, you have there, yes of course the filthy rat that you always carry!

She said she mocking Kiko

─Kiko is not a mixie rat!

─Oh sorry, where are you going on vacation this year! Ah wait for nothing because you and your parents are poor .. Hahahaha ..

he mocked mixie while leaving, Bloom gave a face of disgust at the insult of mixie towards her pet Kiko, turned and went to the village park, in the park a large number of parents with their children and couples were gathered in the games together, Bloom always came to this park and imagine that she was a fairy or a warrior princess, Bloom took out a notebook from her basket on the bicycle along with her pencil, in which she began to draw a castle that always came out of her imagination when she finished it Bloom realized that this castle she always drew was deja vu.

─All the time I am imagining this castle, because something so non-existent always has to come to mind, well Kiko I think we finished today, let's go home.

Bloom looked everywhere around her, Kiko was neither in front, nor right or left, Bloom got up worried to look for her bunny.

─KIKO! KIKO! WHERE ARE YOU? WE ARE GOING!

She called her rabbit Bloom, suddenly Bloom saw from afar some golden and yellow lights in a small area of ​​the park at the same time she heard moans from another girl, as if she was fighting with an assailant, Bloom did not think about it and went to find out what it happened there.

─GET AWAY VILES MONSTERS!

A girl with blond hair, tanned and brown eyes, which highlighted stars in her pupils, wore a bright orange dress, with a 4-pointed crown, fought with a strange scepter, fought in self-defense against a pair of dark monsters that, being defeated they vanished.

Level: 5

Magic: sunlight

Type: White

Element: Elemental

Offense: 16

Defense: 38

Stamina: 79

Special Move: Sunlight Brightness

─ I WILL NOT GIVE YOU ANOTHER PIN OF MY MAGIC!

Shouted the blonde, Bloom looked in amazement as that boy flew through them showing her beautiful wings as if she were a real fairy, Bloom did not know what she was looking at until she found her pet Kiko from afar, who was afraid of the mysterious monsters that surrounded them.

─ KIKO THERE YOU ARE!

Bloom ran towards his pet regardless of whether the two of them were in danger.

─ YE WAIT IT'S DANGEROUS!

I loudly launch the blonde fairy.

─ I already have you little friend!

Bloom said as he hugged her pet, not knowing that the monsters were behind her, to attack her the fairy gave a warning cry "BEWARE!" Bloom turned to see that they were going to attack her, but from one second to another a great red, orange and yellow aura stood out on her body at the same time, the silhouette of a serpent with horns and wings, it launched itself on the monsters disappearing into the moment.

─ What was that !?

Bloom said very stunned.

─ Good heavens, are you okay?

─ Yes, I'm fine, but what was that and who are you !?

─ I am ...

She faints, causing her to transform into the wardrobe of a normal and ordinary girl, Bloom and Kiko looked at that girl with concern. Bloom did not doubt it and took her with all her strength to her house, when she arrived, Mrs. she made tea for the wounds, while Mr. Mike made sure the girl was in good shape.

Bloom, what happened! How did you find it!?

─I found her in a part of the park, they were attacking her and she fainted from exhaustion and that's why she's like this ...

─She must be lost, I will call the police so they can return her home.

─Doooowww ..

Yawn the blonde.

─What happened where I am !?

─You are in my house

Bloom replied

Wait, you're the girl who helped me in my assault, what's your name?

─my name is Bloom Leticiachangelli, and you are at my house.

─oh I see, thank you for saving me in that assault .. I am Stella de Solaria, princess of the kingdom of solaria ..

─Solaria .. surely that assault hit your head ...

Said mr mike

─no I am the princess of solaría, and I am the fairy of the sun and guardian of the scepter of dawn.

"I'm going to call the police."

Mr. Mike retires

─ Better stay and drink a little that blow they gave you must have made you hallucinate ..

Come with me to my room stella ..

Bloom and Stella enter young Bloom's room, in Stella's room she looks at the very particular style of how her savior lives.

─It is not much what I am used to in my palace, but I always liked seeing the inside of other people.

Yes, my room is a mess .. I could see that you had fairy wings .. And a great scepter .. And you say that you are from the kingdom of solaria, is that right?

─Ah yes, the kingdom of solaría, is a country where neither rain nor cloudy days touch the sky, at the same time it is the richest kingdom in the entire world of magix.

Described stella

─magix sounds familiar to me, but I don't know where I heard it before, but do you know how you got here in my village?

Well that's simple, because actually I ... I have no idea how to get in here ...

Stella said raising and lowering her shoulders.

─oh no .. but you say I saved you, also when those monsters attacked me a light stood out in my whole body and a snake appeared, just like a dragon.

─then you must have magic ..

Why do you say it?

I ask

─There are many types of magic, elemental magic such as water, earth, fire and others related to nature, there are everyday ones, such as art, music, technology, and more, and finally the magic of ancestral life this is the magic that is related to animals, spirits or life. It is possible that you have this last magic of ancestral life.

Well, I know I'm not 5 years old but I always imagined myself as a fairy, but I never imagined that this day would come ...

Bloom said remembering the book he had in the garage.

─Oh come on, don't be so disappointed, look at you, I see a great potential for magic in you, if you could save me with your magic it means that you must be a real fairy, you just have to have a great desire within your heart.

She breathed in stella as she placed Bloom in front of her mirror.

And you can help me with that, maybe a basic spell like Harry Potter!

─Yes I think so, look carefully Bloom

With her hands, her wake made some colored pencils float to form a single rainbow pencil, Stella took that pencil and began to color one of Bloom's drawings in the colors she wanted.

─Maybe this is a basic spell, I used it a lot as a child, now I'm trying to return it to its original form.

─Very good ..

Bloom put his index fingers on her head in order to undo Stella's basic spell, but he couldn't get those colors back to normal in one.

─I can't ..

─You know that I did not do it like that ...

─I watch too many cartoons, and on my last high school and high school break I threw all the naruto and pokemon stuffing at me, maybe I'm not good at this.

Said Bloom more disappointed not to do magic like Stella

─Then come with me to the alphea fairy academy, there they will help you better than me.

Initiate

─Really and that is in magix?

─Everything is possible in magix, there are many things it shares with the earth, but my only problem is that I still don't know how to return to my world, since with that monster fight I came here by accident.

As Stella spoke, Mr. Mike instantly knocked on Bloom's bedroom door.

─I'm sorry to interrupt girls, but they already came for you stella

A boy in police uniform with brown hair and emerald eyes, entered the room, Stella saw him and realized who he was.

─Thank you very much for calling us Mr. Mike, he was looking for her father, he has some mental problems from birth, and this morning she did not take her medicine.

─You're welcome Brandom official, my daughter found her passed out in the park she says she was attacked, quite possibly an assailant, Bloom say goodbye to Stella she has to go home.

Said Mister Mike in obligation

─Eh .. yes dad

─It was nice spending time with you Bloom but I have to go home.

Stella said saying goodbye.

─Come on, I mean, Miss Stella, they are waiting for you at her family's house.

The officer brandom and stella peacefully withdraw from Bloom's room, Bloom had been left alone again in her house.

Are you a little disappointed Bloom?

─eh .. Well no .. But she gives me some pity Stella ..

─bloom listens to life in the real world is not pink, nobody is perfect in this world, everyone is unique and perfect with her defects, even so it is good that you have let her go and return to her family.

Narrated Mr. Mike.

─But it's good that she's coming home.

The night destroyed the house and the business changed, Bloom and her parents had fallen asleep in their respective rooms, Bloom when dreaming she was in a large garden in front of the palace which she drew in the park, the palace was like her. imagined, large gardens and a beautiful blue sky, outside there was a great silence in spite of everything she felt that there was something more inside the great doors of the palace, Bloom walked in front of the doors of the castle, and when she opened a great red dragon waited for her in front with its snout.

─WOAH!

Bloom gave a cry of horror, when she looked around she noticed that she was in the real world, the clock indicated midnight, when she was about to return to her bed she noticed that Kiko was not in her cage in which he sleeps.

─KIKO! Kiko!..

She began to call him, she heard loud knocks from the front door of her house, Bloom thought it was her pet, but open the door.

???

A sphere of light shone and illuminated the entire cold and dark cave inside, a voice of an old man called a mysterious woman who shone like the sun itself, as beautiful as a mythological goddess was present.

─Her magic woke up earlier than expected, she is awakening, the last flame is burning more and more, the flame will not go out until she manages to transform completely, despite being 16 years old, she is just learning but she is not alone, the princess of solaría came to your world unsuspectingly.

─Thank you very much for your report, but even so you must continue to monitor her, remember that this body is not the same as you had before, it is only a matter of time before the flame awakens its maximum splendor.

Continue...

[burlveneer-music]

VA - FPEXL - FPE Records comp of experimental electronica

2020 was supposed to be the plague year, one and done. Then wave after wave came crashing; political and social upheavals, pandemic variants, climate catastrophe 2.0 and all that jazz ground on into the twenty-one and beyond. The re-opening bloom withers on the stem and we're still stuck in our rooms, but now there's no sympathy, we have to go back out and drink through masks. Human connection is corroding; we've learned to live with our new a-hole roommate, which is pretty much us, but worse, and more. The old ways are corrupted. Gathering feels weird. The internet is fraught. The new normal sucks and that's a fact and here's another: FPE's turning ten! Ten years since December 1, 2011, when the text document whose only contents were "For Practically Everyone" got stored on a hard drive in a suburb of Chicago. The little bit of data was a seed planted by a person who kinda knew how to make a record label, at least enough to make lots of records and lots of mistakes. Fortunately he had a big basement to store the unsold backstock. FPE's marking the decade milestone with its fortieth release (give or take). This one's the second of two adventurous compilations bookending 2021. Like its predecessor, A Compilation For Practically Everyone, FPEXL presents mostly electronic sounds, from almost every continent, eschewing the familiar and embracing the next. It's a nighttime journey coalescing around what's become a central theme for many in this tough year: community. This community is using the internet to mediate the world; reaching out to people who have begun to broadcast their particular version of the same message: chasing music will always be unremorsefully first.* From India, Akrti and Disco Puppet; from Europe, Ziúr (Germany) and Anushka Chkheidze (Georgia). From Africa, Pö (Uganda), 3xOJ (Morocco), and Eat My Butterfly (Réunion); from South America, Qetsy (Paraguay). A bunch from the US. Fifteen exclusive, original tracks, all except one by a solo creator. Head bobbing, chest swaying, ears filled with right on. Sounds for moving and feeling; physical and mental sounds. Everyone's on their little trip, all of us going about our little lives, maybe fearful of what's next, but living and creating, not completely alone, now. *Gratitude to Colin Langenus for the motto Album compiled and produced by Matt Pakulski Mastered by Matthew Styles, Horizontal Studios:  horizontalstudios.com Cover art: "Moonshine" by Stephanie Pierce:  stephanie-pierce.com Layout and design by Leticia Arioli Thanks to the artists, to the FPE fans, to the artists' fans, to Ravish Momin for suggesting doing digital comps, and to Kharma and Elio for being the best family. This is FPE Records #40, 2021

[insomniac-jay]

Shiketsu OCs Masterlist [Updated]

Staff & Faculty

Shiho Hoshokura/Queen Jewel (Class 3-B Homeroom teacher)

Ichika Kanuchi/Forge (Class 1-A homeroom teacher)

Kageo Sorano/Shadowstar (Security guard)

Hisaya Kaiiu/Phantomage (Class 1-B homeroom teacher)

Fae Bakuchiku/Jinx (Hero history teacher)

Students

Freshmen

Odette Koshomura - Quirk: Swan

Takuma Juryoku - Quirk: Arcana

Hisashi Bokujinma - Quirk: Devil's Herd

Bofuu Kumosuku - Quirk: Clouds

Gaso Daigiri - Quirk: Pixel

Akari Maruno - Quirk: Light Spheres

Wilhelm Gates - Quirk: Gate

Layla Ducard - Quirk: Possession

Hoka Otomeno - Quirk: Honeycomb

Kumina Shirudo - Quirk: Shield

Sophomores

Emiko Betsuakugo: Quirk - Gemini

Leticia Fernandez: Quirk - Firework Show

Aoi Yamaniwa: Quirk - Bloom

Tyler McGinnis: Quirk - Creature

Reiichi Tobashiru: Quirk - Soul Surge

Taishi Genshiryoku - Quirk: Nuclear Energy

Seniors

Jayda Yokoshiro - Quirk: Sun Goddess's Blessing

Jayden Yokoshiro - Quirk: Sun Goddess's Blessing

Mitsubachi Otomeno - Quirk: Hivemind

Hanzo Umizawa - Quirk: Ocean Turbulence

Artemis Ryozuki - Quirk(s): Light Arrow & Divine Stag

Julius Balboa - Quirk: Titanawyrm

Sorano Raitori - Quirk: Thunderbird

Ember Hino - Quirk: Conflagration

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