#her design graciously donated by my friend

[possessable]

also sel and his sister . i mean all of the angels are siblings but them especially

[chocolate-teapots]

Upper East Side: Park Jimin

                                       ●╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮╭╮●

                                      The bitch is back and she’s coming

                                                        for blood. 

                                      ●╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯╰╯●

Warnings: toxic rich friends, toxic bts, angel jimin, body shaming, cheating, cringe, mentions of threesomes, jealousy, possessiveness, manipulation, public humiliation.

"Is that last season's Armani hanging from her hog body?"

This was the night of the year. My parent's annual fundraiser party was always a hotspot but this year I was more excited as they took more responsibility in the planning. Cameras were flashing around the historical golden hall, anyone who was anyone sauntered in the middle of the room screaming for attention as people whispered on the sidelines.

"Stop watching that drag race shit Nina."

Unlike the rest of the dysfunctional functional families on the upper east side, mine had genuine intentions when it came to their generous donations to charity. We had a shared vision of making the most of what we were fortunately given and doing something good with it.

"I can't help it, I liveee for the gags."

However, the people invited relished all the good publicity by accepting invites graciously knowing that it will do wonders for their image and unfortunately your image was your first impression in the community.

"Your mother really outdid herself this time Y/N," my best friend Hani gawked at the huge gold chandeliers dripping from the ceiling and completely ignoring my involvement.

I followed her gaze with wonder and pride, sipping my champagne wondering how that amazing woman could get any more amazing. The venue was perfection, with Italian and french design details that were palace-like. We wanted royalty.

"For sure Y/N, you think she'll do the designs for my big sleepover party this year?" Nina, my other best friend, quizzed beside us probably already wondering how these chandeliers and crystal glasses would look in her bedroom in autumn.

Everyone was here from school. Hani and Nina stayed by my side for the majority of the night as we giggled and reminisced about relationships and what the hell Charlie Fish's socks said on the side.

"I swear it says, Goof Rhymes!"

The rest of the school crew were mingling around somewhere, probably reminiscing or trying to make newer memories if you know what I mean. Something strange about the close relationship between the seniors of St Judes was the fact we had all dated/had sex with each other at some point, even the guys and girls with each other.  

"No way! You're blind. It clearly says 'Gond Fames'!"

I had dated all seven of those boys, regretfully, but there was only one I had ever loved and it still hurt a year later. The girls also had a certain fixation on some of them more than others. Jungkook and Nina, as the youngest of us all immediately latched onto each other and never let go (as unhealthy friends of course with a few added benefits. Hani and Yoongi had declared some kind of war between them the moment Yoongi slept with some random girl at a party thinking it was her.

He was very sorry.

She was very pissed.

"Gond Fames? Is that even real words?"

We had all been merry friends since the very beginning of our trust-fundom but I never felt like I belonged. And she knew it. Gossip Girl somehow always found a way inside of our chain and knew exactly how to unlink us one by one until we were forced apart. No one knew who she was and yet she was a part of us all. The first thing anyone on the upper east side would think as soon as they did something was-

"Oh, I hope Gossip Girl hasn't found out about my tequila threesome with Namjoon and my cousin! I'd just die!"

All of us would be on eggshells all day every day to see who she would target, waiting for our lives to be ruined with news we probably would've never known if it weren't for some messed up kid and their laptop.

Yet, what was even worse was when Gossip Girl was quiet because then you knew she wasn't taking a break she had something really good and was just waiting for the right moment to drop it.

Cut to now.

"When do you think Gossip Girl is gonna post again? I kind of miss her talking about my daddy issues," Nina pouted, her thick pink lips glistening under the rich lights decorating the endless room.

"Who cares? We're finally being left alone, enjoy it," I admit, sipping on the champagne and a little too familiar feeling of bubbles and haziness jumbling inside of me for an 18-year-old.

Park Jimin walks through the archway in a black Chanel suit and incredibly styled hair, saying nothing and already he had ruined my life again. He always looked elegant, presentable, the definition of sex. The man oozed sex appeal and yet his invites to these things always seemed to have gotten lost in the mail. Jimin wasn't a trust fund rich kid like the rest of us but we have all been close the moment he started to beat the champion dancer Hoseok in his own damn sport.

I place down my glass, not liking the empty spot on his arm.

"Excuse me."

I lift my black Valentino as I walk over to him, trying my best to hide my nerves behind the long dress and gold chains but it wasn't working. I just wanted to greet him, to hear his voice again considering we hadn't spoken in just a short of a year.

"Park Jimin," I greet him and he nods, pretty eyes giving me and my dress an unidentifiable look. I was starting to crumble in his presence. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."

Fake conversations. Keeping up appearances.

"Y/N, you look beautiful," he kisses my cheek, had around my waist to pull me close and I shiver at the memories it brought back. "How could I miss the event of the century?"

"Thank you, I'm so glad you could make it and for loaning us your amazing staff. My parents and I are truly grateful," I speak formally, nervous to go beyond that border with fear of being unable to turn back.

Jimin bites his plump lips to quieten his heavenly smile and I thought I could just pass out right there. The man was beyond beautiful and the golden lighting was doing wonders for his clear skin.

"You're grateful? I think they're the ones that should be grateful considering how much you're paying them," he chuckles, his eyes widening with the unfamiliarity of my world despite living at the heart of it.

"It's all in the good name of-"

"Y/N!"

I look over my shoulder to see Hoseok strutting our way with the rest of the gang behind him like an entourage of incredibly successful models. Jimin shrinks into a blonde blur as Hoseok kisses my cheek, his tailored and insured hand fixed to my very lower lower back to pull me into him.

"Hoseok..."

"Hello beautiful," he huffs, stepping back to take in the view though I weren't sure it was the dress he was looking at.

"I'm so glad you could all make it, you all look fabulous as always," I complimented but they knew they looked good so genuine compliments were wasted on these six pairs of deaf ears.

"We know Y/N, there's no need for flattery. Now I need a drink," Jin eyed up the drinks being passed around as though they were mini servings of orgasms just floating for free. His pretty lips turned into a rosy smirk as he eyed the waitress nearby. "Or maybe what's carrying them..."

"Always the delight Jin."

I was feeling bold. So in an attempt to present him to the rest but to also try and feel even a tickle of his touch that I longed for, I pulled him forward by his jacket to line up with me. His eyes widened, lips puffed in unreadable surprise.

Just tell me you love me.

Hani and Nina joined the little high school circle, giggling and touching their men like little designer accessories. I watched as Nina and Jungkook flirted with one another, strong-arm never intending to let go of her tiny waist as though they were handcuffed.

Jimin didn't dare touch me, even look at me despite the fact no one was talking to him and he had nothing else to look at.

Flattering.

"Who the fuck is Chantelle, Yoongi?"

It wasn't just the feeling of being an outsider in this group of wealthy lovers and serial flirts, I could feel something else, something creeping onto the night.

"What do you mean Chantelle, woman? I don't know a Chantelle!"

Maybe it was just the champagne.

"You were moaning her name in your sleep!"

I bolt the rest of it, soon grabbing another and drinking it like Jin who was now on his fourth glass. Maybe if I drank enough I'd finally get the courage-

Jimin's head finally turns towards mine and my heart freezes in hope. It's that moment where you don't want to move in case you ruin it.

"Y/N-"

The music cuts out, the atmosphere defrosted in the room immediately and my parents come to the rescue as the whispers begin and the feet begin to tap. The tuts echo across their words of reassurance and I feel the heat creeping through my skin for them.

"We apologize for the inconvenience everyone, the sound has just cut out but the problem is getting fixed as we speak. Please help yourself to another drink while we-"

About a thousand mobile phones all ring, ping and vibrate at the same time, chiming along like a song of their own but no song was this intimidating, this excruciating and fucking scary to sing. We all exchanged a glance, knowing the voice that would be waiting to speak through the screen and yet we look anyway.

"Good evening Upper East Siders, a perfect greeting from a lion who has been away from the jungle for too long. Sorry for the silent treatment but I have been busy cooking a feast with a little help from some of my friends."

We all look in confusion, hearts racing and minds aching already at the cryptic wording of this pop-culture princess. She was a phone, an inanimate presence and yet even Namjoon shook nervously.

"Word around the log fire is that our favourite upper east side good girl has decided to play hostess for the annual fundraiser so I decided to put all of our differences aside and make a generous donation to charity at no extra cost- except for a few friendships of course. This is for our sweetheart on her special night with maybe not the sweetest by her side after all..."

The murmurs sizzle in the pan, waiting out the explosion. I squirm at all the attention, suddenly feeling not so glamourous and not so golden and definitely not so good. What was she planning? Was it truly a favour?

"Section a titled 'bad to the bone.' Our youngest golden boy may not be so golden after all, using our golden girl's lipstick stains to make a certain special friend jealous. Oh, Jungkook when will you learn that when a girl says no she really means no?"

There's a picture of Jungkook and me after an amazing day out where we're genuinely happy and I'm kissing his cheek. It was platonic. It meant nothing other than friendship.

I guess I was wrong. That's what hurt.

I look up to Jungkook, uncertainty and my willingness to not believe the news plastered over my expression. How could I trust Gossip Girl over my own friend? But, he just gulps, strong hands smoothing out his jacket nervously. Was this true?

"Jungkook, tell me this isn't true," Nina speaks next to him, suddenly finding his grip on her waist less comforting and more oppressive. She wiggled out of it slowly, stepping back to observe the pissed off maknae who maybe wasn't as innocent as we all thought.

"Nina, it isn't what it looks like," I reason genuinely and I think she swallows it dry for now.

I stand in shock, frozen like a mannequin and feeling stupid for ever thinking that day was anything but a mistake. I bunch up the full skirt of my dress again, wanting it to swallow me whole and turn around to leave not wanting to know anything else she had to give me tonight.

"I can't stand this," I muttered, heading straight for the large wooden doors hiding me from the fresh outside world that was a lot lighter than the darkness in this room. Only, they refused to open no matter how hard I tugged them and not a single one of us had the key.

I stomp back to the chain that I had broken myself from, impatiently waiting for more heartbreak.

"I can't believe you would do that Jungkook," Jin mutters in disappointment by the side of the youngest and he reacts defensively to the hurt caused by Jin's disapproval, someone he looked up to so much. My heart almost hurt for him.

Almost.

"Oh please, you saw how Nina was latching onto Oscar like he was some kind of lampost! She knew what she was doing," Jungkook spat in greedy dirty jealousy, he gave 'sin' a different definition now.

The second chime stopped my launch at the smug handsome boy wearing his suit with dare I say a little pride. I just wanted to hug Nina but by the way she didn't reply, it seemed as though she didn't really like me at this present moment either.

"Chapter two, 'The Tale of Two Hoes'. Did you know that mother Jin isn't so loving to his precious boys? Jin meddled in a little sabotage with Y/N's date with our loving Hoseok to make it look like he stood you up with a text from a disposable phone leaving him to pick up the tearful pieces. Looks like a date isn't the only thing he took that night, was it Y/N?"

I felt almost ill, the disapproving look of my parents making me want to pick up a tile and throw it at my own head. Jin flushed on the spot, scratching behind his head as J-hope started towards him. The orange-haired man gritted his teeth, ready to throw hands but Namjoon held him back from the exposed eldest.

"Jin," I shook my head, tears starting to collect like magnets in my painted eyes. I look down to hide them and even though I knew this was just the beginning of this torture I couldn't wait for more pain. "Is that all I am to you?"

He says nothing.

"That one must've been hard for you Y/N, knowing Jin was always by your side but maybe it wasn't always to collect your feelings and to steal something else. But, Jin isn't the only thief with a light-fingered Joonie stealing underwear from your room and positioning it in his back pocket for ultimate bragging rights!"

I let out a loud laugh, throwing my head back maniacally as the arguments begin to erupt within the group.

"Wait, you didn't sleep together? You bastard!" Taehyung snarls, his large eyes turning small and intimidating as he faces the lies thrown upon himself in the process. "You knew I wanted her!"

There was even a picture to prove it on my phone, sure enough, that red lacy underwear that I was saving hanging out of his uniform trousers like they were a first prize trophy. I knew I should never have bought them.

I felt ill.

Betrayed.

Unsafe.

"I only did it because Jin was bragging about getting the first taste so I needed evidence that we went further you can't blame me!"

"Can't blame you? Are you fucking kidding me what kind of lame unintelligent excuse is that?" Jimin bursts by my side, cheeks flushed in outrage as the blonde flushes at his own stupidity in front of him. "You should be honoured to have a friend like her, she's not some piece of ass."

I almost forgot he was there.

Almost.

"Y/N you don't have to listen to this," Jimin whispered leaning in beside me, hand supporting behind my back trying to comfort my seething. I was seeing red and blue, the red beyond the details in Yoongi's tie or Hani's lipstick. Pure anger and sadness. "I can get us out... somehow."

"No! It's fine Jimin. I am loving this, in fact, I can't wait for the next one! Let's see what we have," I exclaim crazily, hands gripping the ruffles in my dress as they clung uncomfortably to my blushing body.

"Hmm, what's next." I read the blast with sarcastically dramatic expression of interest as I summarise the text. "Taehyung, how could you do that to your own best friend!"

The blue-haired millionaire lowers his golden face to the marble beneath us, not daring to retort or make a single expression as he hung his head in shame. Jimin looks at him in disappointment, forcing his eyes from the ground with his own sadness but Taehyung only looks down again.

I looked at my parents and they smiled apologetically and almost in shame. I could only imagine Taehyung smoothly sipping on his tea as he waited for me to get ready, horrible lies about Jimin tumbling out of his mouth without any intention of stopping so that he was almost banished from society forever.

I could imagine the smirk he threw to Jimin as he chased after me in the debutante ball, closing the door to a room upstairs and giving all sorts of signs that were absolutely wrong.

The more chimes, the more lies went by.

Hani was in tears on Nina's shoulder as she found out that both of us had lost our virginities to Yoongi in the same night and even under the same circumstances.

I had begun to grow nauseous, sick with worry at what to do with all this new information.

I didn't know my duty. There was nothing in the upper east side manual for this level of chaos.

I just stood and listened to the truth with dignity and giving into Jimin's heavenly touches of assurance as he ran his fingers along my back. It was like taking several bullets in complete silence.

It was also finally refreshing to have some closure with these assholes.

"It's nice to finally understand what I am to you guys," I mutter from the corner of my eye, not wanting to give them the pleasure of eye contact.

"Trigger warning, this next is not for the faint of heart. A little fun fact about the upper east side, nothing brings friends closer together than a scheme. So it was no surprise while golden girl was waiting for her prince in the pouring rain for their happily ever after, six villains teamed up to lock him in his castle for one last grizzly goodbye."

Our heads slowly shot up from our screens.

"That was you guys? All of you?" Jimin glared hand now pressing against me, scarier than all of them combined when angry due to his usually bright and charming exterior. He took his first step forward and they took their first step back, all awkwardly trying to avoid any questions with a mumble or a sip of their drink.

"You don't even have anything to say for yourselves?" I choke, softening their faces at the sound of the hurt building up inside of me ironically since all they had done so far was hurt me. "For me?"

"Beautiful," Hoseok spoke softly, reaching out for my arm but the hate wouldn't stop pouring and I slapped it away harshly not caring about the bill that would soon be facing my way. I would rather burn than have him touch me.

"Don't you dare."

Yet another highlight was finding out my stellar therapist had been writing notes in our sessions not for her but for Yoongi to directly read with a generous tip so he could keep track of what I was saying about our relationship. Lovely.

Another was finding out my school life had been meddled with too after Namjoon getting the best teacher ever fired once I confided in her about our toxic relationship and Taehyung getting me rejected from Harvard since Jimin was going too.

"Don't you have anything to say? At all?" Jimin barked and I finally noticed how silent the room was, relishing in this little circle of big drama as if it was some kind of telenovela. "You're ruining her life because you don't like me! Because I don't have a trust fund or a dog groomer or a foot spa! If you wanted to ruin my life fine but don't use people to get what you want- especially not her."

They were silent, guilty faces copy and pasted so identically I didn't even know whether or not to believe if they were true or not. Everything they had ever done or said had turned out to be a lie so far but there was always one more with Gossip Girl.

"I hope I haven't made Thanksgiving too awkward for you guys but this last one is a real doozy. Get out your pens everyone this is one for the history books as I am making a formal apology for my involvement in this last crime committed by none other than Mr Big Shot himself. Hoseok was a naughty boy and since lover boy was back in town, he dished out on the R-Rated details of him and Y/N to yours truly disguising as Park. The plan? To get the golden girl away from her true love and into the arms of the pot-stirrer. Well played Mr Jung, your lust was good while it lasted."

The pattern was screaming out to both Jimin and me and the reasons why made the hot flushes and cold sweats begin. The end of the blasts meant the doors would be open right? And yet I walked out, taking the chance to get away from the yelling, the tears, the violence, and the betrayal.

"I'm so sorry," I said to my mother, trying to regain composure in these last moments as if it would make up for the rest.

I was beyond embarrassed, already thinking of ways I could make it up to my parents for behaving so immaturely. But, for now, I sobbed into the back of my hand once I was outside, gown making me feel ugly and even more alone than ever before. Jimin did nothing wrong but I left them there in the jungle. I had to be alone.

"You know you love me XOXO Gossip Girl."

I ran towards the cabs parked outside, the rain audible at the end of the dark hallway I was running to. At the end of it should've been light, a group hug and some great parties but it was just grey, murky and full of the ones that you thought loved you trying to pull you away from pure happiness because they knew it could never be them.

I love Jimin I always have and it ate those boys alive to know I could love him beyond his bank account because he was more than enough as he was. He couldn't afford college and I remembered his late phone calls to me about it, sobbing about the end of his path.

Now? He set up his own restaurant, starting with a bar and ending with plans for chains and maybe even someday a hotel.

And, I was so proud of him.

"Y/N wait!" Jimin calls behind the clicking of his shoes against the concrete following me like the judging giggles of the people in that hall, all loving the drama just because it wasn't them at the centre of it.

I harshly wiped away a tear, continuing to run as fast as I could with my dress that moved like smoke and my shoes like cocktail sticks.

It seemed as though none of the rest even bothered.

"Don't go!" He catches up, my back facing him as I cry in the pouring rain and not a single cab in sight. It was just my luck. I just wanted to run away, to not have to face any more lies or betrayals.

I just wanted a friend but an invisible one I couldn't hurt.

"I'm sorry Jimin I need to be by myself for a while. I tend to have an inevitable negative effect on people and I don't want to hurt you again," I manage through a thick voice and even thicker sets of hot tears mixing with the cool rain.

I could hear his pity and it made me sick.

"I don't understand," he began softly, taking another step towards the hem of my dress. "It was them who did the plotting or scheming, not us. Don't you dare feel bad about anything, it's not your fault!"

I wanted to hug him.

"Thank you for not sending anything in..." I thank him quietly but genuinely, ready for another shock since he was too good to be true. It was only a matter of time until he too would darken under my presence.

He puts his hand on my shoulder, warmth spreading from it like tie-dye. I turn to face him, ashamed of the makeup that I knew was running horrifically in all directions of my face. I didn't know if it was my mind playing tricks or the rain but when I looked beyond his handsomely wet finger, I saw red stains of tears like mine too. Had he been crying also?

He smiled weakly "I would never."

I returned it, even weaker.

"I just need to be alone for a while if that's okay."

I didn't. It wasn't. In truth, I wanted him to pull me and kiss me until we physically couldn't anymore. I wanted him to cling to me until I was sick of him and prying him off of my body.

Which of course would be never.

He nodded through a sigh "Of course, just at least let me take you home safely."

He calls over a car and helps me in, feeding the inside my large dress through the door with a heavenly giggle. I held my spinning head in my hands on my lap, the weight of what to do with all these bridges to fix and the ones that were unfixable hurt my head like brain damage. I was incapable of thinking a single decent thought.

The door shut, ringing in my ears and Jimin rubs my exposed back, which tickled with the droplets of water. I eventually gave in to his comfort, nestling into his chest with silent cries of sadness coming from my painted lips.

The thing that pumped the tears the most and choked me beyond swallowing was the thought that I had come between so many friendships tonight.

Had I not existed, Jimin would still have so many friends and an amazing person by his side- a functional existence.

"Please don't say that Y/N. Those actions were in them all along and eventually, they would've come out anyway. I'm just sorry it had to be all on you," Jimin's pretty hands ran along my bare skin making my heart continue to explode. But was he just trying to make me feel better?

"I would do anything to take this pain away from you."

I melted at his words.

"You are my pain, Park Jimin."

He stopped, scared at what I was going to say and honestly so was I. The emotions of the evening had engulfed me to the point where nothing I could say could make it any worse.

"The stabbing in my heart I feel whenever I see you and realise you could never love me the way I love you is greater than any fake friendship or any gossip girl blast. They want us apart and so do you."

I look up at him, removing my head. His silence was killing me.

"And yet here we are."

He hugged me closer, arms wrapping around me so many times so that Jimin could get as close as possible. I could smell the homely scent of his that even the rain couldn't wash away. It was comforting and made me hum against his bare neck as I wrapped around him.

"Do you want me to take you back to mine?"

Oh.

"No, not in that way I mean it's uh probably better if you just um-"

"Anywhere but here."

I sighed, breath hitting his shivering skin at a tremendous strength. I felt his body shiver against mine, clinging, and reaching out for heat.

"You know that day, I was getting ready to meet you. I had a speech planned and everything," he chuckled sadly, kissing the top of my head as I grinned through the silence. I could imagine him rambling nervously in front of the mirror, adjusting his jacket and trying on seven different outfits that all looked the same.

"I couldn't wait to finally call you mine, to be able to tell you every mushy thing I felt on the inside. Then I blinked and you were with Hoseok again."

"Then I sneezed and you were in France," I retorted lightly, smirking through it so I wouldn't have to apologize. I didn't want to face the horrible things I had done.

"I'd love to take you some time. The entire time I was there every 5 seconds I'd see something and say 'God Y/N would love that'," he giggled and I felt the joy tingling in his chest and through his sheer shirt.  

"I'd love to see it."

There is a questionable silence, Jimin's noisy thoughts screaming through his body and though I couldn't hear it I could feel the cogs turning.

"Let's go."

"Now?"

"Right now."

I pulled away from him to study his face. There wasn't a single glint of madness or delusion in those eyes just pure determination. I would be lying if I said it wasn't extremely sexy.

"We'll get out of New York. Nothing serious if you don't want to. We'll take a breather and we'll do it in style darling," Jimin gets excited at the luxuriousness of it all, not being used to spontaneous trips like these I was sure. Though I was, this didn't feel as dull as an ordinary trip, I got giddy in the backseat.

"Wait, what about your restaurant?"

"My parents are in town. They can run the show for a while," he bites his lip, reaching out for me begging me to agree to this after all the built-up excitement.

France really was a really beautiful place and it was the start of summer...

"Why me?"

"I obviously have made the wrong impression if you don't think I'm desperately and hopelessly in love with you now haven't I?" he grins into my fingers as he holds them to his mouth, kissing my knuckle just once as a teaser for what's to come.

I peck him on the lips, stunning him in his seat as if I had sprayed him still with hairspray.

"I'm all in."

[somegirlsnerdywords2]

Anime i’ve Watched

That begin with a O (Part 2)!

Yep this is how i’m going to bring over all the anime and manga i’ve watched and posted about on the old blog. It’s not so detailed but it will have to do. Anything new I watch or read from this point on will have their own posts.

Orenchi no Furo Jijou:

Genres: Comedy, Fantasy, Josei, TV short

Synopsis:  On his way home from school, Tatsumi sees a man collapsed near a lake. When he approaches him, Tatsumi notices something strange: the person in need of help is actually a beautiful merman named Wakasa! Because Wakasa's home has become too polluted to live in, Tatsumi graciously offers his bathtub as a refuge. With a boisterous merman as his new roommate, Tatsumi's normal life won't be returning anytime soon, not to mention Wakasa's aquatic friends—Takasu, Mikuni, and Maki—often show up uninvited, making them all quite a handful for the high school student. As he humors their curiosity for human life, Tatsumi sometimes finds himself enjoying their childish antics, but he will have to keep his cool if he intends to keep up with his daily life and newfound friendship. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 8.5/10

Finished airing in 2014 with a total of 13, 4 minute long episodes. 

My Thoughts: A soothing tv short with a fantasy twist and cute guys as far as the eye can see! 

Oshiete! Galko-chan:

Genres: Slice of Life, Comedy, School, TV Short

Synopsis:  At first glance, Galko, Otako, and Ojou are three high school girls who seem like they wouldn’t have anything to do with each other. Galko is a social butterfly with a reputation for being a party animal, even though she is actually innocent and good-hearted despite her appearance. Otako is a plain-looking girl with a sarcastic personality and a rabid love of manga. And Ojou is a wealthy young lady with excellent social graces, though she can be a bit absent-minded at times. Despite their differences, the three are best friends, and together they love to talk about various myths and ask candid questions about the female body. Oshiete! Galko-chan is a lighthearted and humorous look at three very different girls and their frank conversations about themselves and everyday life. No topic is too safe or too sensitive for them to joke about—even though every so often, Galko seems to get a bit embarrassed by their discussions! [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 7/10

Finished airing in 2016 with a total of 12, 7 minute long episodes. 

My Thoughts: Cute art/ animation style. An alright short but nothing amazing. 

Otome Youkai Zakuro:

Genres: Demons, Historical, Military, Romance, Seinen, Supernatural

Synopsis:  Second Lieutenant Kei Agemaki, the son of a famous general, has hidden his extreme fear of paranormal beings all his life. However, when he and two others are reassigned to live and work with youkai in the Ministry of Spirit Affairs, he is brought face-to-face with his worst nightmare. Now with the help of the fox spirit Kushimatsu, he and his fellow officers must learn to work alongside youkai maidens—Zakuro, Susukihotaru, Hoozuki, and Bonbori—to solve paranormal cases. Set in the midst of an alternate version of Japanese Westernization, Otome Youkai Zakuro explores the clashes and unions that can occur when east meets west, local meets foreign, and women meet men. The unusual alliance of the youkai maidens and human officers must learn to work together in a world that is changing around them. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 8/10

Finished airing in 2010 with a total of 13 episodes. 

My Thoughts: An interesting (if not a bit cliche) but incomplete anime. Has a manga.... which is also incomplete and updated very, very slowly. 

Ouran Koukou Host Club (Ouran High School Host Club):

Genres: Comedy, Reverse Harem, Romance, School, Shoujo

Synopsis:  Haruhi Fujioka is a bright scholarship candidate with no rank or title to speak of—a rare species at Ouran Academy, an elite school for students of high pedigree. When she opens the door to Music Room #3 hoping to find a quiet place to study, Haruhi unexpectedly stumbles upon the Host Club. Led by the princely Tamaki Suou, the club—whose other members include the "Shadow King" Kyouya Ootori; the mischievous Hitachiin twins, Kaoru and Hikaru; the childlike Mitsukuni Haninozuka, also known as "Honey"; and his strong protector Takashi "Mori" Morinozuka—is where handsome boys with too much time on their hands entertain the girls in the academy. In a frantic attempt to remove herself from the hosts, Haruhi ends up breaking a vase worth eight million yen and is forced into becoming the eccentric group's general errand boy to repay her enormous debt. However, thanks to her convincingly masculine appearance, her naturally genial disposition toward girls, and fascinating commoner status, she is soon promoted to full-time male host. And before long, Haruhi is plunged into a glitzy whirlwind of elaborate cosplays, rich food, and exciting shenanigans that only the immensely wealthy Host Club can pull off. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 9/10

Finished airing in 2006 with a total of 26 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Raise your hand if you believe this series deserves a remake!? I would lose it if they remade this series but the original isn’t all that bad either! Worth a watch if you’re a shoujo lover! 

Outbreak Company:

Genres: Harem, Comedy, Parody, Fantasy

Synopsis: Shinichi Kanou is a shut-in otaku with a vast knowledge of anime, manga, and video games. One day, after applying for a job in hopes of escaping his secluded lifestyle, he is kidnapped and transported to the Eldant Empire—a fantasy world filled with elves, dragons, and dwarves. Trapped in this strange land, Shinichi is given an unlikely task by the Japanese government: to spread otaku culture across the realm by becoming an "Otaku Missionary." To accomplish his mission, Shinichi has the full support of the Japanese government, as well as the half-elf maid Myucel and Princess Petralka of the Eldant Empire. Together with this ragtag bunch, he will overcome the obstacles of politics, social classes, and ethnic discrimination to promote the ways of the otaku in this holy land. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 7/10

Finished airing in 2013 with a total of 12 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Not memorable at all. Character design looks nice, very shiny... 

Owari no Seraph:

Genres: Action, Military, Supernatural, Drama, Vampire, Shounen

Synopsis:  With the appearance of a mysterious virus that kills everyone above the age of 13, mankind becomes enslaved by previously hidden, power-hungry vampires who emerge in order to subjugate society with the promise of protecting the survivors, in exchange for donations of their blood. Among these survivors are Yuuichirou and Mikaela Hyakuya, two young boys who are taken captive from an orphanage, along with other children whom they consider family. Discontent with being treated like livestock under the vampires' cruel reign, Mikaela hatches a rebellious escape plan that is ultimately doomed to fail. The only survivor to come out on the other side is Yuuichirou, who is found by the Moon Demon Company, a military unit dedicated to exterminating the vampires in Japan. Many years later, now a member of the Japanese Imperial Demon Army, Yuuichirou is determined to take revenge on the creatures that slaughtered his family, but at what cost? Owari no Seraph is a post-apocalyptic supernatural shounen anime that follows a young man's search for retribution, all the while battling for friendship and loyalty against seemingly impossible odds. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 4/10

Finished airing in 2015 with a total of 12 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Cliche, but not in a fun way. I rarely watch anime involving vampires though so that was a bit fun. 

Owari no Seraph: Nagoya Kessen-hen

Genres: Action, Military, Supernatural, Drama, Vampire, Shounen

Synopsis:  Yuuichirou Hyakuya is finally reunited with his childhood friend Mikaela Hyakuya, whom he had long presumed to be dead. Upon their reunion, however, he discovers that Mikaela has been turned into a vampire. Determined to help his friend, Yuuichirou vows to get stronger so that he can protect Mikaela as well as the comrades in the Moon Demon Company. Kureto Hiiragi receives information that a large group of vampires will be gathering in Nagoya, preparing for their assault on the Imperial Demon Army's main forces in Tokyo. Led by Guren Ichinose, Yuuichirou's team is one of many selected to intercept and eliminate the vampire nobles. With the Nagoya mission quickly approaching, the members of Shinoa squad continue to work towards fully mastering their weapons, while learning how to improve their teamwork. Yuuichirou must gain the power he needs to slay the nobles and save his best friend, before he succumbs to the demon of the Cursed Gear. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 3/10

Finished airing in 2015 with a total of 12 episodes. 

My Thoughts: It somehow got a sequel... still lacking. Plenty of pretty people though with little substance...

[lady-olive-oil]

Dog Days Chapter 2

Note: Hey y’all!!! It has been a long as while since i have updated and for that i apologize. Life has taken over and is hectic af right now. But it is here finally, the next installment of Dog Days! Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

Warning: dirty “I miss you public sex>” If ya squint

Word count: 2,467

Taglist: @maddiestundentwritergaines​ || @dc41896​ || @honeychicana​ || @themyscxiras​ || @dc41896​ || @crushed-pink-petals​ || @fumbling-fanfics​ || @champagnesugamama​ || @bugngiz​ || @badassbaker​ || @melinda-january​

_____________

Charity events were always a buzz around town. Whether you’re a socialite: a social media influencer, stylist, designer, you name it. Anybody who is anybody, knew about them. This one in particular was one for the ages.The annual Charity Ball of Hope, was more of a gala of sorts but nevertheless one for a good cause. Upon seeing all the glitz and glamour of the posh and pampered, outside of the limo window, It felt like old times all over again.

My dress was anything but simple, yet tasteful floor length royal blue mermaid halter top dress with a gold beading around the chest. My hair was in tight curls all over my head, my make up was kept light and my little rose gold studs pulled the look together. The not so subtle keyhole drew the attention I wanted and even brought in some donations for the organization I was in charge of for the night. 

The Los Angeles Angels foundation, for single hard working moms was an organization I started after Vinny died. He left Javi and I something even though he was a terrible person. Looking over at the crowd below me from the balcony, I felt like I owned the place. Which is how I felt at every event regardless.

“Bring back any memories?” A soft yet gentle voice awoken my senses back to reality. I saw Henry approach with a couple flutes of wine and handed one towards me. Graciously accepting the bubbly, we clink our glasses and look back over the crowd.

“I’d say so.” Looking at him from the side, I smirked. “I’ll say Mr. Kent, you clean up nicely if I do say so myself. What are the odds of us matching?”

“Well Miss Calhoun, I’d say 1 in 100. Not too many people can pull off royal blue.” His infamous subtle smile would bring anyone to their knees but for me, I'm used to it so I just smile back and think about how corny we both are to be calling each other by character names.

Fiddling with the rim of my glass, leaning firearms against the railing, I sighed in deep thought. “I still haven’t heard anything back yet about my audition. I hope I get it honestly, it would be a dream of mine to bring a character such as Nubia, to life. Especially for my baby sister Davina, she looks up to me and Morgan a lot. I want this for not just me, but for my sisters.” 

Henry had pulled me closer to his side, making it hard for me to not look at him. His soothing blue eyes, with a hint of brown in one of them, made me forget what I was wallowing in pity about.

“You will get this role and be an inspiration to all young women like you, my love. I know that for a fact, you were amazing at your audition. Who else can actually sneer at me while smirking at the same time, while giving a great performance?”

“Oh Henry, you’re just saying that because I’m your friend.” Offering a soft glance at him was short lived, being that he lifted my head up by my chin to look me in the eye.

“I’m not just saying it to say it, Miyah. You’re phenomenal at everything that you do and I wish you’d see that, just as I do.”

His words were true, solid to the core and faithful. Like a quiet day after the rain. No other man had made me feel as loved as he did, and he made sure I knew that. With a gentle nod, I gave in and smiled sweetly.

Placing the empty flute on the serving tray, I sighed happily. “Why don’t we make our rounds and greet people? I’m sure your people are expecting you just as much as my own.”

Taking my hand gently we made our way down the curved staircase, greeting our fellow friends and members we haven’t seen in years. We’ve managed to keep in contact with our mutual friends, mainly for logistics reasons. Nonetheless it’s been a pleasant few years, mainly because they told us what the other was up to. Made us both feel closer in a sense before reconnecting.

I was receiving compliments on my dress that made me feel like a goddess. All I was missing was a sword in the back of my dress, like how Diana had hers in the Wonder Woman movie. Yet with all the pleasantries out there way, awards being given to the charities, I felt an uneasy presence.

Looking around the room, to see if I could spot the person who I could feel in the room. Henry went off to talk to his friends, so that I could venture off and try to schmooze more people. Which was a big mistake in itself, yet strangely enough the feeling wasn’t so frightening. It was warm and inviting. 

“My, my. You have outdone yourself Amiyah, long time no see.” The soft crooning voice of a seasoned Italian brought back memories. 

“I do try, Marco. I have learned from the very best haven’t I?” Embracing him in a tight hug, I tried to suppress my emotions but it was to no avail. The water works were flooding back.

Marco was like my guardian angel, when Javier and I were living with Vinny. He has been there for her through the whole situation, considering he was his nephew. He knew of Vinny’s motives and habits when he was with me. I practically made him the godfather, which didn’t sit well with Vinny at the time, but he never got a say in how I raised my son because of how he treated me. I haven’t seen Marco in years since Javi and I moved away for good. He is family, and this reunion made all the difference in the end.

“You are glowing my dear, gorgeous. Simply gorgeous as always. How are you and Javier?” Placing a gentle kiss upon my head he chuckled in a joyful tone. 

“Thank you Marco, I appreciate it. Time has been good to us lately, since you know.” My voice was caught in my throat a little but I remained content.

“All good things have happened, good to hear. Listen, I'd hate to cut this conversation short my dear, but a few of my colleagues would like to speak with you at some point in time. Whenever is convenient for you, perhaps?”

I knew exactly where this was going. Well partially anyway, but the statement sounded familiar in itself. I always kept my guard up regardless of the situation. Then it clicked, I realized at this moment I would be offered a new opportunity.

I arched a brow in curiosity. “Depends on the colleagues.” 

“You remember them, Lorenzo and Matteo. They are all for the main decision at hand.”  A gentle smirk was etched on his face.

I knew where this was going. “Well I am free in a few weeks. Have them meet me at Wanda’s on 5th street at noon, on that Wednesday.”

He texted the info to the boys just so they’ll know. “Done and done. We shall see you soon, Lady Amiyah. It was great seeing you again.”

Giving him one last hug, I sighed happily. “You too Marco. Don’t be a stranger now, Javier remembers you vaguely. Stop by the house, I’ll send you the address seeing as though I still have your number.”

“Good to hear, Bella. See you soon and say hi to Henry for me.” Watching him leave with a pep in his step, brought back old memories. 

“Will do.” With that I felt at ease and I had to find my saving grace. Like clockwork, Henry found me. 

“Everything alright Miyah? Who was that guy you were talking to?”

As I arched my brow again, I could tell that my gentle giant was getting rather jealous. “Henry, are you jealous?”

He feigned a gasp of shock, scrunching up his nose. “Me? Jealous? Never, whatever gave you that idea?”

“Your nose flared before you scrunched it. If you must know, Marco is Javier’s godfather and a very generous donor too.”

“Really? Marco Ricci, as in Vinny Giovanni?” His eyes went wide as he said the names in a hushed tone.

“Yes, the very same. I’m meeting up with him, Lorenzo and Matteo for some meeting in a couple weeks. They wanted to discuss something with me.”

“Why do they want to meet with the Queen ?” Adjusting his tie, I averted his attention towards me to have him look me in the eye. I could tell the power shifted in my favor, with the way he spoke.

“Something about a business proposition, from what I’ve gathered. Everyone wants to meet with the queen, but only a few will do so.” Placing a gentle kiss along his jaw, I saw him visibly shiver in anticipation. 

A smirk gradually appeared on my face, as I saw his expression. An idea had appeared in my head once I laced our fingers together and dragged him towards a less crowded area. What a bold move I made to not wear any panties under this dress.

“You seem a little hot and bothered my love. Is everything alright?”

“Not when you’re sweet lips tease me my dear. I can barely concentrate, let alone form a complete sentence. You’re more persuasive than you give yourself credit for.” His breath hitched in his throat as I guided him into the bathroom, locking the door behind us and shoved him against the wall.

Thank god for 6 inch heels because there would be no way, I’d be the same height as Henry. He makes me feel like I can be and do anything, and right now I felt invincible.

“How persuasive am I, Cavill?” I whispered against his ear, pressing a gentle kiss on it then felt his strong hands grip my hips. Next thing I know, he lifts me on top of the counter and kisses my neck with such passion that I couldn’t even muster.

“Extremely. To the point where you have me wanting to do unthinkable things to you right here, right now.” He whispers in my ear, locking my ankles behind him as my fingers carded through his hair.

“Do it Cavill. I want you to, I need you to.” My voice shook with desire and need, I couldn’t take it anymore. I practically ripped his shirt open, he unzipped my dress slowly in a teasing manner.

The way his lips were on mine was like a drug, a need to be filled and replenished. Thankful for me being on the pill because when he sheathed himself inside of me, I felt my whole body freeze as my warm heat gripped him tight. He noticed it because he bit into my neck causing the sensation to heighten.

“Oh Henry..” the want in my voice only stirred him even more into a frenzy as he sped up his movements, causing the back of my head to hit the wall. 

“That’s it princess, louder. so everyone knows who you belong to.” His heated lips were whispering sweet nothings in an attempt to console me, but the gears shifted once I placed my lips on his neck

The gentle small gasp that escaped him as my lips glided down the side of his neck before resting at the curve. Your other hand slid lovingly under his button up shirt, and up his side before resting my palm against his exposed chest. A small, shriveled moan escaped his slightly parted lips as his hands gripped the fabric of my dress, that pooled at my hips . I teased my lips against his sensitive skin before obliging him with fervent kisses to the side of his neck. He panted in full ecstasy, broken moans encoring your efforts as I grew more aggressive. We knew there were probably people listening to how loud we were, yet we didn’t care at all.

Pulling his hair to get a better look at his flustered face, I felt a smirk dance across my face. To up the ante, I leaned my hips back and squeezed my kegel muscles as tight as I could around him. The noises he made caused me to let out a few noises myself in pure ecstasy. Dragging my nails down his toned chest caused him to drill into me faster and harder, the grip I had on his hair stayed. Remaining in constant eye contact.

“I know you’re very close to cumming, my love. I can feel you throbbing inside of me. Let go, I want you to come inside of me.” My lips danced against his ear. 

The floodgates came rushing through is both, releasing a symphonic moan, clutching each other like a leech. Having him slide out made me feel empty, like I was missing something desperately to fill the void. We helped each get cleaned up and redressed, before making an appearance out to the public. Fluffing out my curls, I saw him fix his hair as well.

“Next time, we should try cock warming because I need you in me at all times.” Licking his bottom lip, I made him shiver again, then I walked away from him to unlock the door.

“You’re gonna be the death of me woman.” He gave my ass a good smack and proceeded to walk ahead of me.

“Just call me kryptonite.” Sending a wink in his general direction, we agreed to meet back at the fountain after the event was over. Some folks definitely heard us because the looks I got were full of jealousy. Which I didn’t care one bit, he’s my man and I do what I want.

Just to end the night off with a bang, my charity received the biggest donation of the night. It only goes up from here for everyone in my circle, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.My good mood shifted once I saw a few strands of blonde hair waving in the distance next to Henry. His boisterous laugh caught my attention more, that is until I saw the face of the blonde in question. Sabrina Daniels, Henry’s old fling from our time apart. One glance at me and she smirked with an evil gleam in her eye, simultaneously touching his arm to spite me. 

We may not have publicly announced us being together publicly but, people know we have been spending time together. As god as my witness, if this girl does not stay in her place I will for sure kill her myself without hesitation. Come to think of it, I may have people to do my dirty work now. 

[parisian-nicole]

Adore: A GarVez Fic (Pt. 9/?)

Part 8: https://parisian-nicole.tumblr.com/post/185982220182/adore-a-garvez-fic-pt-8

"Oh my God, Luke, get up!" Penelope yelped out in a frustrated tone and the man that had just been wrapped snuggly around her leaped up and over to the bedside table. He grasped his gun which he had placed there the night before, and then placed himself back up against her in a protective manner while he raised his gun towards the door. Both sat quiet, wide-eyed, and panted slightly as they watched, waited, and expected some intruder to come through the opened bedroom door. "Luke," She called gently to him after a few seconds. "There's no one there," She announced and with a relieved sigh he calmed himself and lowered the gun. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you like that."

"No, it's ok, but are you, all right?" He then turned to her in concern and she simply nodded her head. "Sorry, if I scared you by grabbing my gun like that. I guess it's something I picked up since I became an agent. And I am a very sound sleeper…"

"Yeah, I know that is why I yelled like that. You were wrapped so tightly around me and I really have to go to the bathroom. I pushed and pulled but you would not let go and wouldn't wake up, so I yelled."

"I'm, sorry," He then moved over more to his side of the bed and allowed her an escape, and she threw the bedding off and hopped from the bed.

"It's okay," She said as she leaned over and gave him a quick sweet kiss on his lips that brought a smile to both of their faces. "You made me feel very safe and cherished … And I didn't want to ruin that by peeing on you," She added around a giggle as she then rushed to the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and left Alvez to chuckle after her.

"Thanks, I appreciate that," He called after her as he put his gun back in the holster and then grasped his watch from the bedside table. He noted the time and that it was nearly noon. He then placed the watch back upon the table and leaned back more comfortably against the pillows with his right arm bent behind his head. A big grin was plastered across his face as he recalled the night they had shared. This was how Garcia found him as she reemerged from the bathroom with her toothbrush in her mouth. She faltered in her brushing as she let her eyes drink him in. She was still in awe over how incredibly beautiful this man was naked and even more so over the fact that he thought the same of her. "Good morning beautiful," Alvez greeted with a smile as he unabashedly raked his eyes over her frame, which was now covered in a short satin spaghetti strapped gown, which she kept on a hook on the back of her bathroom door. She was sure there wasn't a part of her body that he had not already seen and kissed during the night, but she still was apprehensive about allowing him to see her fully naked in the light of the day. She smiled at him around the toothbrush in her mouth as she disappeared back into the bathroom, where he heard her spit, and then rinse.

"It's nearly noon," She corrected him as she reappeared back at the bathroom door.

"All right, then good afternoon, beautiful," Alvez corrected and garnered a wide gorgeous smile from her. "Now, get naked and come back to bed," He commanded and she arched a brow at his words. She was surprised that he still wanted to hang in bed with her and as if he had read her mind, he spoke out again. "I want to spend the entire day in bed with you. We have nowhere to be, right?"

"What makes you think I don't have plans for the day?" Garcia asked with a playful smile that told Alvez that she probably really didn't and that she was just teasing him.

"Oh, I know you have plans," He replied as he tossed back the covers and exposed his exquisitely chiseled body but also his massive erection. He then stood from the bed and stalked to where she stood. "You'll be spending the day in bed with me, while I ravage you. Now, arms up," He instructed as he leaned down and grasped the bottom of the slip gown and tugged it upwards. She didn't argue or hesitate at all as she obediently lifted her arms and allowed him to free her of the garment. He then enveloped her naked body against his, lifted her up until she comfortably wrapped her legs around his waist. He buried his face into her neck where he kissed and nibbled at the flesh there before deeply breathing in her scent. "Dios mio eres tan hermosa, y sexy," He moaned into her ear before nibbling on its lobe. Garcia knew enough Spanish to fully understand this compliment, one Alvez had spoken to her throughout the night. She sighed contently as her eyes rolled closed, she held onto him more snugly and placed a kiss on his cheek. He turned them and walked back to the bed and toppled down upon it. He made sure he didn't put all of his weight onto her as they landed. The head of his engorged cock was already at her entrance, ready to enter the place he had designated his heaven on Earth, but just as he was about to surge forward a knock at the front door echoed throughout the apartment.

"Penelope, we know you are in there, open up!" Prentiss called out through the door as the two lovers lay frozen on the bed.

"If we're really quiet she'll probably go away," Alvez offered and then leaned down and kissed Garcia's left nipple. The jolt of pleasure it sent through her made her comply and she lay beneath him in silence.

"We saw your car in your space, Garcia, so we know you're here," Tara Lewis chimed in.

"Yep, so you're not getting out of participating in the race today," A.J. added. "Besides, it's for a good cause remember?"

"And you were the one who made us all sign up with you, so, c'mon, open up," Prentiss spoke out again and banged at the door. Garcia disentangled herself from Alvez, who frowned down at her.

"I have to answer, they're right," She replied to his unasked question as she pushed at his chest. He rolled off of her begrudgingly as she stood and grabbed the robe thrown on the chair in a corner of her bedroom and pulled it on. "I totally forgot the MS charity marathon was today, sorry," She cast him an apologetic glance to which he threw back a wink and a reassuring smile. "You can just hang around here until I get back … I … I mean, if you want to," She added as she tied the sash of the robe.

"Thanks," He replied and she smiled sweetly. Internally she was happy that he was considering it. She then rushed from the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

"I'm coming," Garcia called out as she moved to the front door. She unlocked the door and threw it open, and her three friends and co-workers all hurried inside and she closed the door behind them. "I'm sorry guys, I overslept. I guess it's been an exhausting week and it just caught up with me," She stated.

"I bet," Prentiss said. "It wouldn't have anything to do with your new hot Latin lover would it?" She teased as A.J. laughed and both Tara and Garcia's eyes doubled in size.

"Wait, what new Latin lover?" Tara questioned as she looked to each of them for an answer.

"Well, I hope she means me," Alvez's voice filled the room as he entered fully dressed but with his buttonless dress shirt, wide open which put his muscular upper body on full display. And the new visitors eyed him appreciatively as he moved to the open kitchen area and began to fix himself a cup of coffee. Garcia stood with her back to him as she began to turn a deep shade of red across her neck and chest. "Can I fix you, ladies, a cup?" He offered.

"Uh, no thank you, we really need to get going. We want to get there a little early, you know, to warm up," A.J. replied. She knew Garcia well enough to know that she was embarrassed even though there was no reason to be, and she knew that deflecting would help.

"Right," Garcia spoke out taking A.J.'s queue with great appreciation. "Just give me 10 minutes to get ready."

"If there's still an opening I'd like to sign up too," Alvez spoke out. "I have my wheels up bag and my gym bag down in my car, and I know I have something I can wear in one of them."

"Sure, last-minute sign-ups are welcome," Prentiss stated with a smile.

"Great, I'll just run down to my truck and grab my bags," He said as he moved to where Garcia still stood with her back to him. "Get the shower started and I will be right back," He spoke directly to her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissed her temple, and then moved to the front door. He was slightly amused at the situation and at how flustered Garcia seemed, but also glad that their new relationship was now public and official, as far as he was concerned. Once he had exited the door Garcia quickly made her way to her bedroom and closed the door behind her before her friends could start to interrogate her.

"You can run but you can't hide forever missy," Tara called out after her. "And I want details, damnit!" She added as both Prentiss and A.J. giggled at her.

Sometime later

"Well, I'd say Luke's last minute sign up sure boosted the donations," A.J. offered as she, Prentiss, Tara, and Garcia stood near the finish line they had all crossed, while they watched Alvez who stood at the refreshment table surrounded by a group of young women who openly ogled and flirted with him.

"Yeah, he's definitely attracted the attention of all the women here," Garcia grumbled out as she watched irritably the spectacle the women were making with Alvez, who for his part busied himself with the drinks he was getting for him and Garcia. He didn't seem to be paying the other women any real attention. 'Good Boy' Garcia thought as he graciously thanked the women and hurriedly moved back to where she and his other co-workers stood.

"True, but I think he only has eyes for you," Prentiss added just as Alvez walked up, leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, and then pulled back and handed her the drink he had made her. He then casually tossed his right arm across her shoulder. His action hadn't gone unnoticed by his admirers who watched enviously before they walked off. Garcia could not hide the wide grin that was now on her face. She knew that she would have to deal with other women flirting as Luke Alvez was a walking Adonis, and she wasn't sure how she would deal with it. Now, seeing how he seemed to proudly show that he was with her and she was his woman, she worried a little less. She reached up her right hand and interlocked her fingers with his and sipped at her drink as they all walked over to where they were about to hold a small ceremony after the race.

"Thanks for joining us today," Garcia spoke softly to him. "It really helped to boost the donations. There were a lot of ladies here who signed onto your number, you know."

"You're welcome, but I only signed up so I could spend the day with you," He said as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"Is that why you hung back and ran the entire race behind me?" She inquired knowing that he could have easily finished the race well before she had.

"Honestly, no, I just loved how your ass bounced when you ran," He replied with a chuckle and her mouth fell open slightly as she smiled up at him. "And I may or may not have taken a video," He added.

"Oh, he did," Tara tossed in as she walked to their right. "I saw him," She stated as they all laughed a bit as Garcia and Alvez wrestled a bit as she playfully tried to get his phone from his pocket.

*The above manip was done by me. Not meant to infringe, but to entertain*

More to come...

[otherworldhq]

Under the cut you’ll find a sample application very graciously donated by my good friend, who will be playing the role of YARROW. This should give you an idea of the basics/minimum that are expected in an app, but keep in mind that yours doesn’t have to be exactly like this! Its just a handy little guide for anybody who needs it. Enjoy, I hope it helps! 

IN CHARACTER –– DETAILS:

LABEL: Yarrow

NAME: Cian Callaghan

AGE: 23

PRONOUNS: they/them

FACECLAIM: Tom Holland

IN CHARACTER – EXPANSION:

PERSONALITY: 

If you asked them what they were like, they would tell you: I’m normal. Just… normal. Average. Boring. Uninteresting. In truth, what they are is STUBBORN to the core, insistent on their own average-ness. They are BRIGHT, yes, and observant, picking up on things others don’t all the time. They are INOFFENSIVE, generally well-liked, insignificant enough to slip through any crack, to blend in with any group, and they are ADAPTIVE, fitting seamlessly into their circumstance as needed. But they are also willfully ignorant, made stupid by years of forcing themself to forget. When they fear that they are losing control of their life, they can be CRUEL and petty, thoughtless, selfish. Some, probably, would call them COWARDLY, but they call it self-preservation: after all, if you’re stupid enough to play with fire you deserve whatever burns consume you.

3+ DETAILED HEADCANONS: 

They are a strange child, from the start. Unusual behaviors, a general aura of unease. Their mother knows, knows in her heart that this isn’t her child, isn’t her baby, and she never forgives them for it, no matter how hard they try. They are a strange child, beautiful but sharp, and silent. They never cry. They learn to speak much later than they should. Their father is enraptured by them, but their mother– she never accepts them as her own. Leaves, when they’re only six, and they are too young to understand why, but old enough to know that it is their fault. And so they do their best to act like everyone else, not to stand out, to be everything she would have wanted so that their father will not leave, too, so that they won’t be abandoned again. They push down every urge to act unnaturally, pull back anything that might garner them extra attention. They learn to ignore the strange things they see, the way the rich learn to ignore beggars on street-corners; a part of the world, unacknowledged for long enough so as to be forgotten entirely. They become, at great cost and with great effort, ordinary. And they refuse to let go of that victory, once it is theirs.

Their interest in old folktales, faerietales, old stories– it’s purely academic, of course. Purely theoretical. After all, faeries aren’t real. Faeries aren’t real, they tell themself, up late in the library during their undergraduate years, writing papers on the kinds of fears that faeries represent, the way the fictional bounds between this world and the next are lines designed to frighten children into behaving and keeping them from stepping out of line. Faeries aren’t real, they tell their examiners, of course, and graduate with honors and accolades for a keen and discerning critical examination of the place of faerietales in historic Irish culture. Faeries aren’t real, they tell themself, late at night as they walk through the arts block and swear they haven’t seen anything out of the corner of their eye, as they convince themself it’s just the research, just the lack of sleep, just the fact that all they’ve thought about for a handful of years is faerie stories. But the feeling follows them everywhere they go, and when they think about pursuing graduate research in some other field of literature – poetry, maybe, or anything else – they find they’re unable to piece together the thoughts they need to do it. Faeries aren’t real, but they cannot bring themself to think of anything else.

There is a club, one night, their friends tell them, a weird place they found one drunken night. It’s their birthday, and it’s time to get out of the library and do something fun. The accede, reluctant, to the demands, get drunk enough to shake the unsteady feeling, the swell of dread in their stomach, and they go. Drunk enough to ignore the unsettling feeling of crossing over from one place to another, drunk enough to ignore the looks they get as they move through the dance floor. When they lose track of their friends, someone else finds them, curly-haired and bright-eyed and barefoot, and he dances with them, touches their cheek, says: that’s so cute. You don’t even know, do you? and they don’t remember any of the night, past that, don’t remember finding their friends, don’t remember going home, don’t remember anything until they wake up at home, sick and desperate and shaking, a pounding in their head, like they’ve just witnessed something horrifying, something antithetical to their very being. But that’s what does it: that’s what gives the otherworld the passage it needs to seep into their life, to force its way past their carefully built defenses. That night, that touch– that’s when they start to feel the pull.

2+ AMBITIONS/GOALS: 

Cian’s primary goal is to keep away from the otherworld entirely. They are unconcerned with the politics of the Seelie court, unaware of the murders and everything else going on, and forcefully so: all they want is to be normal and to not be a part of any of this.

But, of course, some goals are hopeless, and theirs most certainly is. So, in the absence of that, what they have is this: they will not let someone manipulate them into being a pawn in a larger game; they will not be thrown out as bait between faeries looking for a bit of fun, or thrown to the wolves just to make someone else feel pain. They will keep this life they have built in tact, no matter what the cost, no matter who they piss off.

BONUS SECTION: TROUBLED TIMES, TROUBLED THOUGHTS. 

Yarrow. Used to staunch the bleeding. The great hero Achilles was said to plaster it over his wounds in war and keep fighting. Cian is not Achilles, not a hero or a soldier or a prince. Cian is the yarrow in his wounds, a stubborn coagulant, unmoving and unmoved. They will let nothing surprise them, will let nothing show, even when the weight of their entire facade of a world is coming crashing down around their feet.

but stubborn as they are, they are still a human thing – they are stubborn about that, too, no matter what anyone else tells them. their life has been a human life, regardless of the technicalities, and you cannot try at something so hard for so long without it becoming you. they are a human thing afraid, as all human things are, of isolation and of abandonment. they don’t want to be left again, like they were by their mother. they may not want to be a part of all of this, but that doesn’t mean that being abandoned by it – this vast, unknown, unwanted part of them –  wouldn’t kill them all the same.

[badasscrossstitch]

Channeling My Rage...

Good Morning Friends:

I am going to channel my outrage into what I hope will become a positive public discussion around copyright in the social media and digital age. Let me start by saying, in most cases I believe people either don’t know or just don’t think about their use of other people’s art, images, words when it comes to “sharing” on social networks or online. I never assume malintentions. I do my best to gently educate folks on copyright and crediting when I see my work used without a shout out or some acknowledgement that I created it.

In this new era, I believe we need to be having conversations about how to respect the creative work of others while also uplifting it and honoring it – through sharing. Plagiarism is an important thing we teach in school. You can be kicked out of college for plagiarizing someone. I believe we should be deeply considering and having meaningful discourse about “sharing” on social networks. What does “citing a source” look like today in terms of social media?

These insidious little moments of sharing without citing the source might seem silly to some, but I argue they lay the groundwork for much more egregious plagiarism or just straight up theft. Let’s explore a case study that is happening right now and has led me to want to write this article.

LASULA boutique is an online clothing store that seems to cater to both the UK and US markets. It is “home to the latest fashion flashes from across the globe.” 

Based on my research, they appear to make what I call “disposable clothing” that is modeled after whatever some celebrity wore that week. I call it “disposable clothing” because it’s made cheap and fast in developing nations in order to create clothing that is “in fashion” for a moment. It’s not meant to last as it is usually “out of fashion” in a few weeks and you dispose of the items and have to buy more. 

Their online reviews, depending on where you look, range from 5.8/10 starts to 1.7/5 stars; most reviewers speaking to the shoddy quality of their products. But hey I’ve never bought anything from them so who knows.

What I do know, is that they took my design and stitched it onto jeans, used my name in the product description, and sold them for 22GBP (roughly $30 USD) on their website.

I also know that they posted a photo of said jeans on their Instagram, which has 723,000 followers, which earned them 3,329 likes, without crediting or tagging me (gee I wonder why). That doesn’t even include the posts by their paid brand ambassadors. I spoke with one and she had no idea the design was stole and then graciously archived her post. 

To be clear: I DID NOT know about this. I DID NOT give them permission to use my design or my name. I DID NOT sign a licensing agreement. I DID reach out to them via Instagram yesterday and have not heard back from them.*update: I heard from them...more on that in a few days*

Perhaps now you can see why I want discourse around this.

The piece of art I made that is now “famous” I guess, was created when our shitbag president said “grab ‘em by the pussy” on film AND STILL GOT ELECTED PRESIDENT. But that is not when that piece got famous. That happened when celebrities shared it when fuckbag Harvey Weinstein got called out and taken down.

I got over 1,000 requests via Etsy and Instagram from folks who asked me to stitch them one and/or “put it on a shirt” so they could wear the message around. That led me to: create a FREE embroidery pattern so that those thousands of people could stitch their own to wear or gift to others. I also created a RedBubble shop with some products with the design/expression on it so folks could wear it loud and proud – I have always clearly stated that I make NO PROFIT off of this. I donate all of the proceeds (which is like $2 an item because I chose to keep the price point as low as possible for buyers) to the nonprofit Advancing Justice | Chicago. To date, we have raised just over $1,000 for the organization through the sales.

Profiting off of this message and this moment is NOT something I am willing to do. I have been very clear about that. So the fact that LASULA (and many others as you will see below) are stealing my work to attempt to profit off of is UTTER BULLSHIT. They are slapping MY ART onto jeans and are selling them to you as a “fashion flash”… whatever the fuck that means.

They used MY NAME in their product description without my permission…no doubt thinking that was them being “thoughtful” or “citing their source”.

Here’s the deal, I teach classes at Columbia College on how to protect creative works, write licensing agreements and contracts, and how to protect your name, brand, and art. I would be a really shitty teacher if I didn’t use this moment to bring this to light.

I am angry that my art and my name have been coopted to make this company money.

I am angry that they are selling women the idea that a piece of my art that represents the women’s movement should be stitched onto the butt of skinny jeans and paired with “a bodysuit and some boots for the ultimate babe vibe.”

The part that I am grateful for is that I know my rights and I have a digital community that regularly has my back. So many artists do not have that. They are making incredible art and are REGULARLY being ripped off and their work exploited by fashion companies who apparently can’t seem to afford to hire artists.

I MUST stand up; not just for me but for every other creator whose work is being bit-for-profit and their objections aren’t being heard or listened to.  

My website states:

BadassCrossStitch.com™ © 2015, All Rights Reserved Worldwide

What does that mean?

It means that I created this art for you to use to make your own art. If you share your art with the world all you have to do is credit my art too. If you post it on Instagram for example, you would say something like: Pattern by: @BadassCrossStitch – it’s like citing your sources. And you know I’m going to double tap that and share the love! (win/win)

It also means that you can’t sell the work without my permission. Here’s the deal, if you are an independent artist or crafter and you want to stitch a piece or two to sell at a craft fair or on Etsy – you have my permission so long as you clearly state the pattern is mine. I extra approve if you give a portion of your profits to a nonprofit doing great work for women.

No one has my permission to use my work on a large scale (making more than 3 pieces to sell, or any advertising, or commercial applications – you know billboards, t-shirts, jeans, mugs, and shit like that) without my written permission. Businesses, brands, ad agencies, and the like (should know better) and should definitely not be biting my work. That said, I’m totally down to talk about all sorts of applications but it will require a contract, licensing agreement, and dollar bills y’all. 

Cool? Cool. Thank you for supporting and respecting the work of artists! You are badass.

I am not an unreasonable human. I create art to inspire other people to create art. I do NOT create art so companies can exploit my work and profit from it.

Think I’m exaggerating? Check this out:

That is just from a simple google search that took me 3 seconds. I still have $40,000 in student loan debt. You think I couldn’t use the money? OF COURSE I COULD!

*takes deep breath*

My friends, thank you for reading this. The only call to action I have for you right now is to please have an IRL conversation with someone today about this idea. Talk about how you share things on social media. Talk about what you think crediting a creator looks like. Talk about plagiarism in the digital age – what does that even mean? Let’s have conversations around this NOW. Let’s work together to define what we believe is just and equitable.

Thank you. I love you.

Shannon

[rilenerocks]

This is Pete Yorn in a screenshot I took of him yesterday at the end of a livestream concert he’d just performed. I bought a ticket for this show, paying more money than the minimum charge because a portion of the funds collected are being donated to Covid19 relief. I also bought a t-shirt designed especially for this event. I’ll probably get it in a couple of weeks. Pete performed an acoustic version of his breakthrough hit album, Musicforthemorningafter, which was released in 2001. During the pandemic lockdown, Pete has played seventeen live shows on social media platforms like Instagram and Facebook. I’ve watched all of them. On some days, they’ve been the only thing that got me through the murk. So how did I wind up with Pete? I’ll tell the story which is one of those serendipitous little deals that subtly shift the trajectory of a life.

In 2001, I’d never heard of Pete Yorn. He was a 27 year old musician trying to crack his way into the big time recording world. I was coming up on my 50th birthday. I’d been living with Michael since 1972. We were going to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary that May. The previous year we’d made a huge transition in our lives. Michael had decided to leave Record Service, the music business that had been the center of his daily life for 27 years. With the advent of free music downloads from the internet and big box stores selling CD’s for less than the cost of purchasing them from the record labels, the writing was on the wall. The day of the small independent music stores was coming to an end. Michael’s degree in political science wasn’t much use for a practical job. He was 51 years old. So he’d decided to return to college, pick up 30 undergraduate hours of education classes and acquire a teaching degree as a secondary school history teacher. Eventually that move turned into his also adding a master’s degree in US History.

We told our kids about the new plans on our annual holiday trip to Starved Rock State Park. Our daughter was a sophomore in college and our son was in eighth grade. They stared at us, stunned, across the dinner table. A parental job change is a big deal. They loved their cool rock and roll dad who knew everything about music and got great tickets to concerts and sports events through the major record labels.  Going back to college when you’re an old guy? That was a challenge for them. We laughed out loud when our son asked, “are you sure you’re not going to become one of those dads who lays around on the couch all day, drinking beer and watching game shows?” We did our best to reassure them although we too were uncertain about how all this would work out. Michael got his substitute teacher’s certificate and took on as many jobs as he could, teaching everything from kindergarten, to special education to the occasional high school history class. He went to school a few nights a week, studying and writing during the days he wasn’t subbing. Student teaching would be coming up in the fall of 2001, followed by the daunting search for a real teaching position. I was the primary breadwinner, holding things together as we all made our adjustments  together.

Our daughter was a college athlete, playing volleyball for her university in an athletic conference that had other colleges within driving distance of our home. We spent time on the road going to watch her play. Our son was an athlete, too, so his games occupied us as well, Michael attending as many as he could given his demanding schedule.  Spring was a busy time for all of us. Our wedding anniversary was on May 1st. Given the fact that we were living on a modest single income, good sense dictated that we probably should minimize our celebration. But me being me, always with an eye toward the future, pointed out to Michael that we only got one 25th wedding anniversary. Ever convincing, I melted his resolve and off we went on a Caribbean cruise. We sailed on the Norway, a ship that looked romantically like the Titanic, although without the threat of icebergs. It was referred to as the last great ocean liner.

We sailed to the Bahamas where we swam with stingrays at Stingray City, to Roatan for snorkeling and diving off beaches covered with iguanas, and finally to Cozumel where we spent time in a magical water park alive with beautiful fish, birds and exotic sea creatures.

We wound up at the ruins in Tulum, Mexico, where we wandered about, marveling at the incredible turquoise water and the remnants of the fort walls, intended to be impregnable but easily violated by conquistadors whose horses easily vaulted the barriers. While there, we had our wedding date preserved like a Mayan calendar page.

We had a wonderful trip. On our actual anniversary we ate at a small intimate  bistro where Michael, proving himself as fiscally risque as me, slid a box across our table right before dessert with an amethyst ring inside. I remember my shock and my tears. So romantic.

May was a busy time. We returned from our trip and celebrated my 50th birthday. A friend had my yard decorated with 50 flamingoes in honor of the event.

A couple of weeks later, we were off on another adventure. Our son had qualified for the National Spelling Bee for the second year in a row. The local newspaper sponsored the bees leading up to the national one, and paid for that trip. We were joined by our daughter who flew in to Washington, DC because this year was the last for which our son was eligible. We stayed in a beautiful hotel downtown where we were feted in style.

In addition to the spelling there were barbecues, trips to surrounding historic sites and general great fun. Our son wound up in third place, getting his first paycheck at age fourteen. What a glorious time.

Summer came and zoomed by. Michael was still in school and the kids were busy with their activities. Our daughter returned to college in the fall, our son was a high school freshman and Michael was doing his student teaching. In October, our aged dog Sydney, had to be euthanized. We were all heartbroken.

We celebrated Thanksgiving and then winter was upon us. We were going back to Starved Rock after a very full 2001. Pete who?

Fast forward. The year is now 2017. Michael died on May 28th after his five year cancer journey. My son, now a biology postdoc, transferred all Michael’s iTunes files to an external hard drive for safekeeping for me before he returned to his field work in Guam. I was alone in my house. Recovering from the massive fatigue of being Michael’s caregiver, I set myself to the task of planning the large exhibit of Michael’s life which would be held in December of that year. He’d become a well-loved teacher in his unfortunately shortened career and I felt that an event near Christmas would allow former students home from college to attend. This would be a big public gathering. While I worked, I decided I would listen to the 2507 songs on my external hard drive. Michael and I were music lovers our whole lives. When he left the Record Service, he was slightly out of touch with current music but after starting teaching, he quickly developed a class which combined modern American history with film and music. He encouraged his students to share their favorite songs with him and continually added new tunes to his personal library. Although we listened to that library a lot, the music was on shuffle which meant there could be hundreds of songs I’d never hear. I wanted to listen to every single song, our old favorites and the ones he’d picked up during his teaching career. Some were great and others I could’ve done without. One afternoon, I heard Pete Yorn’s Life on a Chain for the first time. I was instantly hooked. One of my habits is that when I like something, I have to consume it. That first day, I probably listened to that song 50 times. Then I listened to the album it came from, Musicforthemorningafter, the big breakthrough for Pete in 2001. I ordered a CD and kept it in my car where I played it every day. I also loaded it onto my phone. There was one track in particular, June, which made me cry the second I heard it. I know this sounds weird but the melody sounded like the inside of Michael’s soul to me. Hard to explain-it’s just how it was.

Eventually, I started listening to more of Pete’s music. I read his biographical information and learned about his family. I started to like him. He said great things about his parents and brothers. I found him attractive. He took awhile before marrying and having a baby. He is unabashedly adoring of his little girl. He talks freely about emotions. I was hooked. I started following him on Instagram so I could keep up with his career. Last year he was performing at the Pageant Theater in St. Louis. My son went to college in that city. He was back from Guam and graciously attended the concert with me. We had great seats and I was elated.

For me, Pete was a gift that Michael left me, like so many other things that I’ve stumbled on since his death. Michael always told me I was the most loyal person he knew. That loyalty extends to those people who I’ll never really know, but feel I do because I’m just strange, I guess. Pete is the musical version of my beloved Roger Federer.

  When the pandemic hit, Pete began showing up on Instagram to perform live shows from some house in the California desert where he was sheltering with his wife and daughter. He had one acoustic guitar and a piano from his childhood. I can’t tell you how I loved watching him sit right in front of my face for these concerts which he played because he needed to for himself and to help all the shut ins out in the ether. He’d wait for a few hundred people to show up on his feed and then play, tell stories and chat. When it became clear that the pandemic wasn’t going anywhere, he partnered with groups to raise money for Covid19 relief, food pantries and the like. As I noted earlier, he performed 17 times. I missed him when he disappeared for awhile. Then all of a sudden, he announced last Saturday’s concert, a live acoustic stream of the entire Musicforthemorningafter album. Tickets were $15 and up, with each level getting a different perk and again, funds being donated to Covid19 relief. Unique t-shirts and a face mask with the words “Strange Condition,” one of Pete’s song titles emblazoned across the front. I so looked forward to this show and it was everything I dreamed it would be. Personal, empathetic Pete and great music. Nothing fancy, just him. One of the best hour and a halves I’ve ever spent. And I’ve been to more concerts than you can possibly imagine.

When the show was over, Pete asked people to let him know how they felt about it. Lots of people sent him screenshots with decorative, appreciative emojis. I wrote him a note, which is more like me. He took a second to answer me.

  Yup. Me and Pete. Who’d have known. I’ll be his loyal fan until I disappear. Life is full of surprises. Look him up. Have a listen. I hope you like him too. 

Me and Pete This is Pete Yorn in a screenshot I took of him yesterday at the end of a livestream concert he’d just performed.

[bill66912]

I learned tonight that today is “Pay it Forward” Day, so I thought I’d share my day’s events: . I recently ordered some replacement brushes for an old manual vacuum that I have from @bissellclean . Bissell reaches out to me a couple of days later to inform that the parts I’d ordered were no longer her available, and for my trouble they were sending me a brand new replacement vacuum. For not having four tiny brushes! . Next, I received two separate instances of an order from @sheetsgiggles . If you don’t know Sheets and Giggles, they’re a little@company out of Denver that produces fantastic quality bedding from ecologically-responsible sources. When I informed S&G if they duplicate shipment, they graciously responded to “please keep on us”. This wasn’t a cheap order, either. . So, I reached out to @humbledesign and asked if I could donate my windfall. If you aren’t aware of Humble Design, they assist those transitioning out of homelessness into housing with furnishings, decorations and basic needs items. . And then, I came home to a plastic bag tied around my outside door handle. Inside the bag were the most delicious homemade Zucchini Muffins I’ve ever had from dear friends. Completely unrelated events, all within the same day. . To say that I’m blessed is an understatement. Humbled is closer to the truth. . May we all feel connection like this one day. The beginning of the end to fear, anger and hatred in the world can happen with just simple, random acts of goodwill. Let us learn 🙏🏻 . #payitforward #humanity #wereallinthistogether #dountoothers https://www.instagram.com/p/B_i2iU9jKxo/?igshid=1fvcc0pw5rf94

[jpoproductionsllc]

A couple months ago I had a thought of putting together a haunted house for the public to attend. I was granted permission from the NON Profit organization, OIC in New London, to use a portion of their building to make it happen. The proceeds would go to benefit the programs they offer to the local community. The planning started. As always, I had a vision that was bigger than i thought (atm) i could accomplish. I walked through the designated area and designed an outline. At this time i realized there was a lot of work to do and that i needed a ton of props and awesome people to pull it off. Since the point was to raise funds and to spend the least amount of money doing so, I had to brainstorm. Luckily my creepy friend Christina Karma Poltoranos (lol :D)had a ton of Halloween decorations in her basement. She graciously helped me out as she always does and donated the decorations for the cause. The decorations fit the exact themes i had wanted. I started decorating and reaching out for volunteers which connected me to the wonderful people tagged in this post. At this moment Beth-Anne Williams connected me to Halloween goddess Monica Harsmanka. Monica is in live with Halloween and Dolls...tons of dolls lol... She put us over the top with a HUGE additional surplus of decorations.. she also spent 40+ hours helping setup. With her participation we were able to make it really creepy and iconic. My mother Lisa OGrady was my number one supporter behind all this. Even though we fought all the time and i have to repeat myself a million times, lmao... i still love you and appreciate the late nights you stayed to help!! Christopher P. O'Gradyo thanks for running the show upstairs. Mathew O'Grady great job with the math equations, no-one ever solved them haha. Last night was a great success and definitely not the last haunted adventure that JPO Productions LLC will be involved with. Rumor has it that they will be at the Trail of Horror and a very popular corn maze in sterling ;) next year! Minus a few people that werent around for the group photo. Thank you all for being a part of this experience with me!!!! #jpoforacause #jpoeverywhere #hauntedjpo #haunt (at OIC — Opportunities Industrialization Center • New London, CT) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bpep8Itgd3c/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=4xnil7qnv85f

[mainemanus-blog]

Featured FiftyFlowers Review: Elegant Pastel Wedding

“Let Love Grow“

Bride: Morgan           Location: Taylor, SC         Date: May 28th, 2018

Wholesale flowers ordered:  White Anemones (100 stems), Quicksand Cream Roses (75 stems), Gardenia Peony (20 stems), Dusty Mauve Airbrushed Limonium (10 bunches), and they supplemented these products with some locally sourced White Ranunculus, White Spray Roses, Vendela Ivory Roses, and a mixture Eucalyptus greens.

What they created: 1 bridal bouquet, 9 bridesmaids’ bouquets, 7 boutonnieres, 12 centerpieces, and 1 other arrangement!

Scroll on for some stunning shots from Chloe Luka Photography…

From Carissa (sister-in-law), “As a painter and illustrator and lover of all things floral, I always knew one day I wanted to try my hand at flower arranging. When my brother-in-law and his fiancé began planning their wedding I offered to do their flowers for the big day and they agreed! I felt super unsure about how to do…well anything really. But with tips from FiftyFlowers and a few YouTube videos…I jumped right in! The day the flowers arrived felt like Christmas Day! My living room was filled with boxes and boxes of beautiful florals just waiting to be unwrapped and enjoyed. I was so impressed with the shipment of the flowers and loved how FiftyFlowers works with farms from all over the globe! My flowers had been on quite the journey in order to arrive on my doorstep. I soon fell in love with being a florist, if even for a week. With some help from sweet friends, we put together 9 bridesmaids bouquets, a bridal bouquet, 2 garlands, and 7 boutonnières before the big day arrived. Seeing the bride’s face when I showed her the flowers made all the hours of work truly worth it. I loved sharing my art talents to bring beauty to the most important day for her. The wedding was beautiful as weddings often go. It rained but that didn’t matter. If anything rain is required to let things grow and perhaps with that even love. Not even weather can get in the way of bringing young lovers away from the joy they feel on their wedding day. As the day came to an end I had a plan set in place. I was not going to allow these lovely, perfect blooms to go to the dumpster just because they had served their purpose. To me, they needed to be enjoyed until they wilted. I had asked everyone in the bridal party if they would donate their bouquet to my cause, still graciously giving them the option to keep it if they wished. Many agreed and by the time we left and all was torn down I went back home with just about as many flowers as I had arrived with earlier that morning. The next day, after scrounging around for as many vases I could find, I managed to create 62 smaller beautiful bouquets with the salvaged flowers. That evening my husband and I brought them to a local nursing home and I can happily say that all 62 residents got to enjoy those flowers for almost a whole other week! What a gift to be able to share art and beauty with the bride and guests and with the sweet elderly folk as well. I hope this catches on and I will be able to do this with each wedding I work from now on. Because, like flowers, let love grow and grow too.”

To see Carissa’s flower ratings, comments about the flowers, and even more beautiful photos, click here!

Vendor Team: 

Photography: Chloe Luka Photography

Venue: The Southern Bleachery

Wedding Gown: Winnie Couture

Bridesmaids Dresses: Lulu’s

Groomsmen Attire: Indochino

Invitations: Jesse + Carissa Bowser

Florist/Designer: Carissa Bowser

DJ: Christian Stropko

Videographer: Courtney Baucom

Officiant: Jody Bowser

Catering: Laurenda’s (Laurenda)

Gelato: Luna Rosa (Jose)

Featured FiftyFlowers Review: Elegant Pastel Wedding published first on their blog, reposted for me