#i love it when there’s STUFF I love an intricate functional picture

[bomnun]

outsourced and unnecessary pentagon songs, even the good ones, age so much faster than their self produced ones… it’s crazy to me. just to give some examples: upon first listen I really liked asteroid, more than most of the bsides on universe:the black hall, but now I very frequently skip it, and have listened to it way fewer times than the likes of camellia, shower of rain and someday. can you feel it used to be really enjoyable to me and I used to think it was the one (1) acceptable outsourced korean title track, but now I can’t listen to it anymore (and I’ve listened to it considerably less than maaaany of their songs) … lukewarm was flashy and fun the first time I heard it, but it’s joined the rest of the pre-demo_01 bsides in the category of pentagon songs I hardly listen to… I don’t know what it is specifically, but they just put a different juice into the music they perform themselves. I don’t like all of the self produced songs, but in almost all of them there are more layers, more harmonies, more ideas and there was just more care put into them. this is what they want to do and they know best how to make that feeling come true and express that. objectively speaking they’re not all the absolute top of the top producers or composers, but there’s just a totally different feel to me personally. even when I am unaware that a song was self produced (I didn’t know “I’m fine” was by hui… I thought that was outsourced) I’ll listen to it more than other outsourced songs on the same album…I guess I just really like them and the feel they have into it… I think im a bit of a hedonist too in liking extremely layered and intricate songs… I like relistening and hearing new details and little background vocals and sound effects I hadn’t heard before, and I feel like they just work their own songs to perfection (not actual perfection, but to some kind of near-completeness) much harder than any outsourced songs given to them (with the exception of cosmo…cosmo is insane…thank you teru)

even songs they make for other people don’t have this same extreme care, and though they may be very layered and detailed…I feel like (maybe this is only in my head) the overall care isn’t there… it all makes sense though. I’d put more effort into music if I were performing it myself and presenting it under my name and my name only, and not selling the demo to someone else.

[qvnthesia]

You know what’s kind of funny in a messed up way? In the season 4 finale, Kol was acting like Elena just up and murdered him just because she wanted to kill someone that night, but he had compelled Damon to kill her brother and also tried to literally kill Bonnie the very episode Elena helped kill Kol. Elena has proven time and time again that she is 100% down for murder when it comes to keeping a loved one safe and Kol was an active threat to at least 2 of her loved ones. Obviously she was going to kill him, so like, why was he so surprised that she went through with the killing. Kol conveniently ignores that he had just tried to kill one of her best friends and had compelled Damon to kill Jeremy, her baby brother that she loves more than anyone else. Literally every other Original could’ve informed Kol that Elena takes no prisoners when it comes to her family, as she went along with Esther’s plan to kill all of them simply to remove Klaus from the playing field and ensure Klaus wouldn’t be a threat to her family anymore, Rebekah got quite literally stabbed in the back so she wouldn’t jeopardize one of the first kill-Klaus plans, and Elijah ended up with a dagger in him in season 2. Did none of Kol’s siblings tell him jack about their current adversaries/sort of allies or something?

This is one of the most confusing things on the show. TO characters haven't had any proper planning with the exception of Klaus and Elijah. Mostly Klaus, because Klaus always looks at the long term. He always wants to think about the big picture. A legacy and success that lasts for centuries until some other adversary crawls out from the shadows to try and thwart him again. Elijah, on the other hand, mostly plans to solve the present situation.

Rebekah always improvises (TVD S4 finale, saved Matt from Alexander the Hunter by taking Matt's place near the trigger) and so does Kol. Freya plans heavily, she doesn't improvise until she's got nothing. Finn remains neutered and yet, he intricately plans the downfall of his siblings (TO S2 Live and Let Die, Finn captured Oliver and Elijah). The only time the Mikaelson siblings are well-planned is when they are all together (TO S4, Operation Rescue Klaus/Nik/Niklaus).

This is what we want to see in more of the Mikaelson siblings — planning, talking about allies and adversaries, who's dangerous enough and who's impulsive, what are their weaknesses and best threatening one-liners.

It's quite funny how they underestimated Elena, considering that almost every sibling has faced Elena in some way or the other. She's more dangerous as the Salvatores, even Katherine herself, given the opportunity and the resources to function.

Stefan is more level-headed than Damon, but Damon is willing to shed blood while Stefan isn't. Caroline's a sidekick, she can't plan war stuff on her own, she needs some backup. Bonnie is powerful, being a witch, and can take on stuff on her (TVD S3-S4, planned with Klaus and put his spirit in Tyler).

Elena, on the other hand, plans. She's unhinged but in a stable way. Her words and her blood are her strengths. She can emotionally manipulate her adversary to cause an unnecessary reaction, giving her an opportunity to establish her cadence and change the key of the fight's rhythm. Her Petrova blood, I'm not going to go into that, you already know. Seeing this, I can conclude that Elena's a complex protagonist with high potential to become both a villain or a hero, provided the writers were smart enough to write her character like that, sadly, they were stupid to let Elena's story depend on two toxic men only, so I'm not going to go there.

Coming back to the point, the Mikaelson siblings should have warned Kol. Klaus could've gathered them all in a room and told them all about the MF Gang. Rebekah could've been perfect for informing Kol about Elena, and then Elijah would've jumped in saying 'Don't underestimate her, brother' with a knowing smile playing on his lips *hehehe*

thank you for the question <33 au revoir!

*runs into a wall*

[ohbae-me]

HC: Brothers + Dia and Solomon reactions when MC sends a seminude unintentionally. Like, she was feeling herself that day and decided to takes some pictures. However, when she was deleting it, a bug occurred and send it to him. Who would delete it and who would?

I CACKLED when I read this request. I love it. Such chaos. What i wouldn’t give to send nudies to my demon bois

MC studied herself in the mirror. She'd just gotten back from a shopping trip with Asmo and was putting on her own little fashion show. She had to admit, Asmo had not steered her wrong when he took her to that lingerie shop. She admired the intricate detail on the matching bra and panty set. It sat absolutely perfect on her, no awkward bunching or spilling anywhere. And, if she was being perfectly honest with herself, she looked damn fine. Eyeing her phone, she thought what the hell! Asmo would be so proud. Taking these types of selfies wasn't her usual thing, but today had boosted her confidence. She looked fantastic, and it made her feel amazing. After her little photoshoot, she got dressed and decided to scroll through some of the photos. She'd decided that she didn't need to keep all of them, so she selected a few and deleted them before sticking her phone in her pocket. 

Not long later, her phone was blowing up. She'd opened her messages, and to her utter horror, realized that she did not in fact delete any of the pictures. She'd sent them to every single person in her contact list. 

Lucifer:

Chokes on his coffee when he opens the message

Blushes a little at first and can't help but stare at the pictures, taking in the details

When he gets your text apologizing, saying he wasn't supposed to receive it, he smirks

Too bad. Picture moved to blackmail folder. Decides he needs to have a little chat with you on being more careful just so he can see you all squirm. Can't help but wonder if you're wearing that same set under your uniform the whole lecture. 

Finishes the lecture and tells you that you look very good in red with that beautiful, cocky ass smirk of his

Mammon:

Blushing profusely, all 2 brain cells have stopped functioning 

Can't stop staring. He thinks you look beautiful. He wants to send a cocky text back but literally can't string three words together. Can't look you for a solid week without blushing like a fool

Is downright livid when he realizes his brothers all saw too

Will never in a million years delete the photos

High-key thinks you should be a model. But then immediately dismisses that because that would mean everyone would be looking at you like that and that ain't happening. Nu-uh, no way. 

Leviathan:

Screeching. Literally throws his phone across the room like it grew 3 heads. 

Omgomgomgomgomgomgggggggg

This has to be a joke right?! There is NO WAY you would be sending him those pictures ON PURPOSE?!

When you text him and say you accidentally sent it to everyone, he is disappointed but not surprised. 

He will delete the pictures, but he will certainly never forget them. Can't help but fantasize about you wearing skimpy cosplay outfits and feels dirty for it. Will probably never look you in the eye ever again

Satan:

Stunned and quite taken aback by the risque pictures he's received, definitely blushing up a storm

He's used to it from Asmo, and the odd crazy fan but he never expected it from you

Suspects it was an accident right away

When you confirm as such and say he should just delete them, he says absolutely not. If you didn't want him to see, you shouldn't have sent them in the first place, and he likes them, what's the problem with that?

Will tease you for life about this. However, if you are really upset and uncomfortable about his response, he will apologize and delete them all. 

Asmodeus:

You have 34 new messages from Asmo

Yaaassss girl! I'm so glad we have this kind of relationship now~~ followed by many photos of him in varying degrees of nudity

Will keep his favourite pictures, and delete the rest. After all, he needs the space for his own pictures!

Will show everyone the pictures again. Doesn't she just look so cute in the stuff I picked out for her?! Look at that cute little butt! I told her the colour was just delicious on her- queue physical fight with Mammon

Mammon wins and deletes the pictures himself. Asmo says it's fine, he'll just take more pictures with MC~

Beelzebub:

The sweetest boy. He sees your frantic text right off the bat and deletes them right away

He'll feel really guilty if he finds himself thinking about it. 

Sees how embarrassed you are about the whole situation and will take you out for lunch to make you feel better.

He wants to tell you that you looked amazing, but will keep it to himself. He doesn't want you to embarrass you anymore

Belphegor:

Smirks as he checks his phone when he wakes up. 

Takes him time admiring the pictures.

He will find you to tell you not to worry, he enjoyed them very much. As he snuggles up to you, he will forever wonder what you're wearing underneath. 

Is absolutely keeping the pictures for future... reference

Diavolo:

Absolutely fucking delighted

Realizes very quickly what happened, and pesters Lucifer for details on how all the brothers responded to the little mishap

Gossips with Barbatos about it as they look through the pictures

Is honesty more amused by the situation than he is turned on

Though, he can't deny that he likes what he sees. 

He will save them all

Solomon:

Also realizes what happened right off the bat when his, Simeon’s and Luke’s phone all went off at the same time (he deletes them from Lukes phone before the poor bb can see anything)

He is definitely keeping these photos, thinks maybe he can use them against the brothers somehow

If you REALLY want him to delete them, you’ll have to give him something in return~

Loves all the drama is causes

Don’t get me wrong, he likes what he sees in the photo, but he is much more interested in how this could benefit him in other ways

[all-hail-the-witcher]

please, if you’re in the mood......... tell us more about pre-trials geralt

sorry this got buried in my ask box for a few days i run an ao3 tag blog also and things tend to get a little lost sometimes

here are my pre-trials geralt hcs:

-first of all, his Looks

-pre-trials geralt is Hot

-like okay, post-trials geralt is hot too but like you know what i mean

-he has long brown curly/wavy hair

-bright blue eyes

-his voice wasn't nearly as deep and rough, it was more smooth and he was very good at using it to sweet talk himself out of anything

-obviously he was tall, but like lean muscular, not as jacked as he is later

-and he was always smirking

-essentially he looked like that picture of henry cavill in the sweater

-this one:

-but his hair was a little longer and a little more curly

-and speaking of his hair

-he took much pride in it

-and he would do his best to upkeep his curls 

-he’d braid it, put it up, do fun intricate styles sometimes when he got bored and couldn’t sleep

-he wears leather bracelets

-and he always kept the laces or buttons on his shirt undone

-also he was a fan of just wearing the witcher equivalent of undershirts (chemises? idk)

-at that point he didnt have nearly as many scars, but he had a few from like training and shit

-in his opinion, they were enough to make him interesting and mysterious (and not a “monster”)

-he kept his shirts unlaced to show off the one slicing through his collar bone

-he would regularly work out shirtless (despite vesemir’s disapproval)

-and he’d put his freaking medallion between his teeth every now and then 

-his medallion is the equivalent of a fuck boys gold cross necklace

-essentially he's a fuckboy. a witcher fuck boy. 

-and everyone is in love with him

-and he knows it

-the younger baby witchers are so enamored by him (including one baby lambert) 

-and why wouldn't you be? he's attractive, he’s funny, he loves to pull pranks, and he can talk himself out of any situation

-oh thats the other thing about pre-trials geralt

-he talks. a lot.

-flirts with everyone. other trainees, the older witchers, even the mages (which comes back to bite him later)

-they claim he never uses the same line twice (he doesn't)

-he tries to learn as many languages as possible cause he knows people find it sexy when you speak another language

-and then there’s eskel

-he and geralt are Immediately Bros

-they look similar so they pull pranks on people 

-but it only works on the newbies usually cause everyone else can tell them apart by the fact that geralt’s far more outgoing and talkative and eskels a little quieter

-they know the whole keep inside out and backwards

-every secret passage, every room, every everything

-they hang out on the roof

-they have stashes of food and sweets and alcohol pretty much everywhere

-they “sneak out”

-and they throw parties

-well “parties” 

-which usually consist of getting a few other trainees together and drinking 

-they almost always get caught (cause hello they're in a keep full of fucking witchers) but geralt always talks them out of trouble

-they love pulling pranks on the mages cause they're so easy to annoy

-geralts the mastermind of all of them

-he steals their herbs, replaces them with other stuff, you know, classic hijinks 

-but they love trying to prank vesemir the most

-it never works

-but they still try

-and there are many rumors about geralt that circle the keep

-hes like the regina george of kaer morhen 

-people claim he's slept with everyone to the mages to trainees to witchers 

-he knows all these cool knife tricks and sword tricks

-part of witcher training at this point is being absolutely wooed by geralt

-so then the trials happen

-eskel and geralt have a big party the night before and for once vesemir doesn't try to interrupt because he knows most of them will probably die the next day

-and eskel and geralt are talking about how they're gonna have another big party after they all get through the trials 

-thats another thing

-most of the boys are at least a little terrified of the trials

-geralt is not 

-hes extremely confident and cocky

-he even picks his post trials name: geralt eric rodger du haute bellegarde 

-vesemir rolls his eyes, but knows there's no point in trying to change his mind 

-but anyway

-the trials happen

-geralt and eskel both survive along with a few others 

-and geralt’s eyes aren't blue anymore but thats okay cause he's still pretty much the same otherwise

-all the kiddos are relieved cause they likes geralt and eskel u know and if he can't survive the trials then what chance do they have?

-but then 

-one day a few days after the trials

-eskel notices that geralts not in their room and he's like hm cause they're still kinda recovering from the whole thing so where the hell would he go

-hes missing for a few days. maybe a week or two

-eskels freaking the fuck out

-no one knows where he is

-but then he's back

-but he’s not the same

-the mages got revenge on him for bugging them all those years by giving him extra mutations

-vesemirs pissed cause that wasn't what was supposed to happen

-geralts definitely different this time cause he lost more than just his eyes

-his long curls are gone, replaced by straight white hair

-he has fangs that make it awkward to talk cause he’s not used to them and he bites his lip

-even if he wanted to talk, that is, which he doesn't 

-cause during the extra mutations he had a potion that burned his vocal chords a little bit and now its all gruff and gravelly and it hurts to talk

-eskel realizes very very quickly that geralt is definitely not the same anymore

-starting with the fact that he refuses to look at eskel

-because they looked so similar before, so thats his biggest reminder

-eskel is extremely guilty and cuts his hair very short 

-but geralt still refuses to leave his room for some time

-cause now he thinks he looks and sounds like a monster, and he never wanted that

-everyone else though just falls more in love with him

-hes mysterious and striking and so different from all the other witchers

-he finishes his training as quickly as possible

-only speaking when absolutely necessary and otherwise just grunting (which everyone else finds incredibly sexy)

-he stops really caring about his body and just lets it gat scarred. it doesn't matter anyway what he looks like he's already a freak (in his head)

-and he doesn't flirt anymore. and he certainly doesn't smile. 

-and he changes his witcher name to something more simple and forgettable: geralt of rivia

-but the stories of him continue long after he's left the keep

-and on the occasion he comes home for the winter, the trainees all strain to catch a glimpse of the elusive geralt 

-every now and then when he gets really drunk he might crack a smirk or say one of his old pickup lines

-but other than that, pre-trials geralt is all but buried deep in his subconscious

-that is, until he meets jaskier

tag list cause i like these (hmu if you want on or off)

@percy-jackson-is-sexy-

@barlowarts

@eminasan

@llamasdumpsterfire

@stinastar

@nonegenderleftpain

@geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde

@geekymagicalpotato

@jaskierswolf

@toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account

@toss-a-coin-to-your-lesbian

@littleredhotridinghood

@artemisthehuntress

@love-more-today-than-yesterday

@fontegagrilledcheese

@punksarcasticmisanthropicwriter

@acemoppet

@lookatgeraltmyboi

@gods-oopsie-woopsie

@eya-trying-to-function

@just-a-himbo-and-his-feral-bard

@julek

[sobokip257]

The Most ideal Approach to Pick up Wedding Photography

In the course of the most recent year, I've invested a lot of energy endeavoring to gain proficiency with the art of best wedding photography. In spite of the fact that, I actually have a long way to go, I can ideally talk as a matter of fact (positive and negative the same) of how to jump on the correct way as a wedding picture taker.

1) Increase an Intrigue

In case you're perusing this article, there's an entirely decent possibility that you have just arrived at this stage. Maybe you're keen on wedding photography due to the procuring potential, or possibly you simply love weddings and need to record them.

In any case, wedding photography is a creature like no other and truly requires some various methodologies. One wedding picture taker I worked with disclosed to me his preferred thing about wedding photography is that it consolidated so a wide range of sorts of photography: full scale (think rings), engineering (excellent places of worship), and even a touch of sports - envision catching a quick moving couple.

Discover wedding picture takers whose work motivates you. There are many skilled wedding picture takers, and motivation is rarely far away. Investing energy realizing what you like and how to introduce a scene is basic in building up a style. Wedding photography is an exceptional field, and it's not hard to immediately get excited in its realm.

2) Begin Helping

Have individuals shot weddings before helping an expert? Sure. Would I suggest it? Not in the slightest degree. On the off chance that you can bounce into shooting weddings all alone, you are unquestionably more gifted than I am. For me, I wasn't even happy with endeavoring it.

The main thing I did was to begin systems administration and discovering picture takers in my general vicinity. My first thought was to send messages to neighborhood wedding picture takers requesting to help or second shoot. The vast majority of these went unreturned.

Second shooting permits you to become familiar with the intricate details of weddings without the entirety of the weight.

Notwithstanding, with enough constancy I started to get standard work structure neighborhood pro's. Getting on as a subsequent shooter was one of my preferred encounters - I got the opportunity to go with various picture takers and to shoot some stunning weddings. The picture takers I got the chance to shoot with had many years of experience and truly comprehended their art. Considering their work and their techniques was the best thing I could possibly do to realize what it took to shoot weddings.

Being a decent collaborator or second shooter will keep work coming your direction. Recollect that when you're functioning as a second, your main responsibility is to supplement crafted by the essential picture taker. Avoid their shots, and shoot from integral (not indistinguishable) edges. One great methodology is to utilize focal points of an alternate central length; if the essential is shooting a fax, adopt a wide calculated strategy to the circumstance. Getting two takes on a circumstance is incredible for the essential since it will permit them to convey more pictures to the customer.

In particular, you do the things that they request that you do, without posing a great deal of inquiries. Attempt to remain one stride in front of them and think about their needs. I've functioned as both a second and an essential picture taker on weddings, and when I'm the essential, I have such a great amount of going on that an associate who deals with little assignments is such a gift.

When beginning, you aren't destined to be paid or redressed. You probably won't have the option to utilize the pictures in your portfolio; it relies upon the conditions of the agreement you're working under. Ensure that you get these things recorded as a hard copy and comprehend what the essential picture taker's desires for you are. Nonetheless, in spite of the way that you won't get by second going for the initial barely any months, the information that you gain is a tremendous interest in your ability.

3) Build up a Business

More so than maybe some other kind of photography, learning the matter of wedding photography is basic to your prosperity. The business has a huge measure of turnover, and a ton of this is because of newness to the stuff to maintain a business.

In the event that you don't care for gets, this isn't the correct business for you. Agreements set desires for an occupation and secure the two players. Exploration the agreements that picture takers use. There are models that are promptly accessible with some looking. Consider holding an attorney to guarantee that your agreement is hermetically sealed. Numerous picture takers additionally convey risk protection, just as protection that shields gear from being taken or harmed at work.

Decide the correct plan of action for you. Will you sell prints? Circles with computerized documents? Collections? These require exploration and imagined that stretch out a long ways past the extent of this article.

At long last, deciding how to advertise your business might be the best test that you face. There are no mysteries, only a great deal of work that must be placed into building a brand that individuals perceive and know. Find powerful approaches to publicize. Consider the way that there are both free (verbal) and paid promoting choices. I am a major adherent that the best promoting is fulfilled customers.

4) Exploration and Pick the Correct Apparatus

Numerous picture takers wrongly reduce the nature of work to high dollar camera bodies and costly focal points. You have presumably heard at this point that rigging isn't everything with regards to being a decent picture taker.

In any case, the opposite side of the coin is that better apparatus is an immense favorable position in a photography. Wedding photography is no exemption. A portion of the circumstances you will wind up in may put a ton of strain on passage level apparatus. Houses of worship can extend between sufficiently bright and counterfeit caverns. It's circumstances such as those that you will require the correct rigging to catch the wedding appropriately.

For me, there are two basic pieces of my wedding pack: a camera body with great high ISO execution, and quick primes. My go-to focal points are primes between f/1.4 and f/2. These permit me to shoot weddings in my style and guarantee that I can catch enough light.

A body with extraordinary high ISO execution can spare you when you're in the most obscure of settings. A glimmer is additionally significant, albeit numerous temples don't take into consideration utilization of blaze during a function. Regardless of whether it is permitted, you may find that your customers and their visitors would want to not seeing a glimmer spring up at regular intervals.

Camera gear with great high ISO execution and quick primes make low light shots conceivable.

Try not to disregard the significance of getting some more, quick focal points. During the function, you may find that you are further away than you had foreseen. Contingent on the customer's solicitations and church arrangements, you might be positioned in an overhang or in a side of the congregation. I have as of late got the Standard 135L, which is a 135mm f/2 focal point that will be extraordinary for these occasions. My own conviction is that picture takers shouldn't be an interruption during the function, so I'm frequently in covertness mode during this time.

Ensure you get enough memory cards to cover the day. Everybody's needs will vary, yet with a 21 megapixel camera, I keep a few dozen gigabytes worth of memory. The exact opposite thing that you need to happen is to fill your cards during the function and have nothing left for the gathering.

Additionally, don't set out shoot a wedding without reinforcement gear. This implies reinforcement memory cards, batteries, and most powerfully, a reinforcement camera body. This can get costly, yet recollect Murphy's Law: what can turn out badly, will turn out badly. What will you tell your customers if your camera quits working? Pick a reinforcement camera that you can change to reasonably consistently from your essential body if need be. The best methodology is to utilize two of a similar camera, yet this isn't monetarily doable for some individuals.

5) Make a Check Rundown: Planning is Everything

I think individuals tend to consider weddings one bound together kind of occasion. In all actuality across different strict and social fringes, weddings are profoundly various encounters. Moreover, the couple has endless choices that no two weddings are ever the equivalent. Accordingly, your encounters will fluctuate fiercely from end of the week to end of the week.

I imagine that the most disregarded ability is realizing how to interface with your customers and set them straight. Abilities like these are learned distinctly with training and time 

In the event that there was one thing that helped me improve my outcomes drastically during the primary year, it was to truly plunk down with my couples and figure out their wedding. Thusly, you can set the desires for the afternoon, map out the progression of occasions, and ensure that their needs are met. Keep in mind, you are in the matter of giving client support. Upbeat customers mean more business.

6) Improve your Altering Abilities

In the year 2011, the advanced work process is a significant piece of practically every picture taker's business. Wedding photography has a few requests that are explicit to click here.

[banana-boomboom]

oh how sweet it is (to be loved by you)

For  @adrinetteapril 2020 -   Posted to AO3 & FFN - (Chapter 1 is here)

Rated G

Chapter 22: Outfit Change

Summary: Lunch date shenanigans

“Dude, what is going on with you two?”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Nino rolled his eyes. “You and Marinette.”

“What about me and Marinette?”

“You know…” Nino stared at him, obviously trying to prompt a response that Adrien wasn’t understanding.

“I really don’t.”

Nino leaned in close and looked around the room like he was afraid someone might overhear. “Dude, you’ve walked her to class, like, 10 times in the last few weeks, you’ve had lunch dates at each other’s houses, you specifically made her cookies, you invited her to one of your photoshoots.”

“Yeah,” Adrien was confused. Sure, he was doing all of those things because he liked her, but it wasn’t like it was a strange thing for friends to do. And if Marinette was feeling uncomfortable with the attention because she was interested in Luka, he was sure she would say something about it. “So?”

“Alya told me she caught you guys snuggled on the couch at the sleepover we had.”

Adrien paled. Now, that was something friends didn’t do. “What’s your point?”

“Look, dude,” Nino whispered, “I know it’s not true because Marinette is the best dudette ever, but I heard someone has been saying she’s seducing and manipulating you to get into the fashion world.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I know. I don’t know who started the rumor, but I just wanted to let you know that if you guys are dating in secret, you should probably make a statement or something. You know, to get the crazies to chill out. You’re lucky Chloe has been in New York with her mom for the week.”

“But we’re not dating.”

“What? Why not? You guys got it so bad for each other.”

“It’s… complicated,” Adrien looked down.

“What’s complicated about it? You like her and she likes you. Just date about it,” Nino shrugged.

“I thought she did like me. I was going to ask her on a date after the sleepover, but…” Adrien trailed off choking on his next words.

“What? Did you get nervous or something? It’s not sweat, you can just do it today or whatever.”

Adrien shook his head. “No, it’s not that.” He steeled himself and hissed, “I saw her kiss Luka.”

Nino’s sharp intake of breath startled him. “Oh, dude…”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed dejectedly. “That’s why I’ve been doing all that stuff. To win her over, you know?”

“Well, dude, I’m still pretty sure she isn’t into Luka.”

“That doesn’t explain the kiss, though.”

“True,” Nino tapped his chin. “Have you asked her about it?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, then that’s your first play here. See if you can do lunch with her again today and make it happen, dude!”

“I’m here! I’m here. I’m on time,” Marinette said as she burst through the door and quickly made her way to her seat.

“Hey, look at you, girl! Beating the bell for once,” Alya snickered.

“I know,” Marinette gasped as she worked to catch her breath. “I was up late finishing up one of my designs. You know how it is.”

Adrien turned to face her. “Is it the one you were drawing the other day?”

“N-no,” she stuttered and her familiar blush returned to her cheeks. “It’s one I’ve been working on for a few weeks.”

“I’d love to see it sometime,” Adrien said avoiding Alya’s inquisitive gaze.

Before Marinette could respond, Mme. Bustier started her lesson and Adrien was forced to face the board. Quietly, he shot Natalie a test asking her if he was able to have lunch at Marinette’s house.

He could feel Marinette’s eyes on the back of his head while he watched the clock, praying lunchtime would come quickly and relieve him of the anticipation.

Unfortunately, Adrien felt every single minute pass as he waited for Natalie to respond. While he waited, he snuck at the letter that started this whole thing. He’d stashed it in the back of his binder and luckily it was still there for him to reflect on. If he couldn’t distract himself with her beauty, at least he could distract himself with how happy she made him.

His phone buzzed in his lap and his heart leaped when he read Natalie’s response.

Your father approves for the visit today. However, he requests Mlle. Dupain-Cheng must accompany you for a luncheon with him tomorrow.

Breathing shallow, and fingers trembling, he typed out a formal ‘thank you’ to Natalie before opening his conversation with Marinette.

               Adrien: I wasn’t kidding, by the way. I would love to see your finished design.

A few moments later, he heard a faint buzzing and shuffling around behind him.

               Marinette: I didn’t take any pictures of it last night

               Adrien: Bummer…

               Adrien: Well, what are you doing for lunch today?

Adrien watched as the fateful … popped up and disappeared a few times. His heightened hearing picked up the sounds of girls whispering behind him.

“Just play dumb,” he heard Alya hissed.

He smirked to himself before writing whatever Mme. Bustier had said into his notebook.

               Marinette: Nothing. Why?

               Adrien: My father gave me permission to go to a friend’s house for lunch today.

               Marinette: You’re so awesome!

               Marinette: I MEAN, that’s so awesome!

               Marinette: Autocorrect haha

Adrien waited, hoping she would take the hint. He hated inviting himself over. Also, he wanted to be sure that she actually wanted him there. He jotted down a few more things from the lesson in his notes. Finally, his phone buzzed.

Marinette: Would you like to come to my house again? I could show you the dress I made if you’d like.

Adrien’s breath hitched as he imagined Marinette in a dress. A dress of her own design. His mind wandered and suddenly he was in a suit at one of Gabriel’s fashion gala’s. He was twirling her around the dancefloor. Everyone was oohing and awing over his girlfriends amazing design. Several guests were speculating when Adrien was going to propose, but most were talking about how successful Marinette’s new fashion line was.

“Adrien?” He was brought out of his daydream by Mme. Bustier.

“Yes?”

“Can you tell me who the first president of the 5th French Republic was?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everyone thinks it was de Gaulle, but it was actually René Coty before the first elections.”

Mme. Bustier paused in surprise. “That’s correct, Adrien. Well done.”

Adrien smiled at his teacher before focusing back on his messages.

               Adrien: It’s a date!

He smirked again to himself when he heard the excited whispers behind him.

 Adrien was walking on air after hugs from Tom and Sabine. He had only met them a handful of times, yet he felt more their son than he ever had with his own father. He had half a mind to ask them to adopt him. He stopped himself, however, cringing at the weirdness that situation would cause.

Plus, he had to focus. He had a plan to ask her what she thought about Luka and then hopefully, ask her on a date. Also, at some point he had to ask her to have lunch with him again tomorrow, this time, with his father.

He shook off the negative thoughts his father brought on in favor of the present.

Marinette led him up the stairs to her loft after they had finished eating.

“Well,” she asked, nervous. “What do you think?”

Adrien audibly gasped at the mannequin in front of him. It was dressed in a pink ballgown adorned with embroidered cherry blossoms and vines covering the bodice and cascading into the lines of the dress. The sweetheart neckline made way for off shoulder sleeves. The hem billowed out just barely grazing the floor.  

“It’s beautiful,” he managed.

“Thank you. It was a design I came up with a while ago for a friend’s wedding reception dress. I ended up making her a different design. This one was my favorite, though so I decided I’d make it for myself.”

Adrien ran his fingers over the intricate details in the embroidery. “Did you do all of this by hand?”

“Yeah,” she blushed. “I messed up a few times, but I think it gives it some charm.”

Adrien shook his head. “I can’t tell at all. It looks perfect.” He marveled at the ingenious hidden zipper and the addition of pockets.

“You’re just saying that,” she murmured.

“Maybe,” he teased. “I mean, I won’t be able to truly appreciate the work until I see it worn.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Have you tried it on yet?”

“No. I just finished it late last night.”

“Well, what are you waiting for then? I’m sure you’ve been dying to put it on.”

He watched as she considered his proposal. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” She asked finally.

“Come on, Marinette,” he winked. “It’s fun to play dress up sometimes, isn’t it?”

“Ok,” she conceded. “But you have to wait downstairs,” she laughed.

“Of course, Princess,” he laughed as he bowed and climbed back through the trapdoor.

He silently hoped she had caught onto his use of Chat Noir’s nickname for her. Why he all of the sudden he wanted her to figure out his secret identity so desperately, he wasn’t sure. But the thought of her possibly falling for both sides of him was so exciting.

“Ok, I’m ready,” she called.

He flipped the hatch open and stepped into the loft before finally taking in the sight of her. Adrien’s mouth went dry. The dress shaped her figure perfectly, the base of the dress falling just above the floor. She had put on a delicate gold necklace with a ladybug pendant to compliment the modest neckline.

“Well?” she questioned.

“Wow,” he said dumbly.

She glanced at her tennis shoes from beneath the skirt and giggled nervously. “If only I had better shoes.”

Adrien shook his head, trying his best to force start his malfunctioning brain. “No, they’re perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he said, finally back to full function. “They’re more comfortable to dance in.” He offered his hand to her with another bow.

Her wide eyes studied his hand for a moment before placing hers in it. He laced their fingers together, placed her opposite hand on his shoulder, and pulled her in close before guiding her in a slow dance around the room to the sounds of cars passing by.

His stomach was doing a dance of its own. He had to find a way to diffuse the nervousness in his chest. “See? You’re an amazing dancer in these shoes.”

She kept her eyes on their feet, but he heard her laugh nervously. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” he joked.

She hummed in response before resting her head against his chest. He held her like that for a while, swaying to the song playing in his head.

[lexiseigneur]

Part 2 Chapter 1: The disappeared

2800 B.C.

The queen fled through the trees and the cursed thing followed. She cried out in anguish when it struck, leaving a bloody welt on her shoulder. But she escaped its grasp and ran on. When a river blocked her way, she plunged into its tumultuous waters. On the shore, the thing screamed and paced. She swam fiercely because she had to live. For her people and for her unborn child.

----

Quinlan dreamt. It was obvious as soon as he stepped out of the trees’ shadows. They lined a familiar cobbled road. In dreams, the false sunlight never burned. It gently warmed his skin. On the horizon, the hills and vineyards were blurs, like an impressionist painting. Were he to explore further, the details of this imaginary world would solidify around him. He had done it at times, just to see how intricate it could become.

It had dawned on him recently that the ability to control one’s dreams was uncommon. After Lexi had asked if he missed Europe, Quinlan had explained how he often visited his native Italy and sometimes summoned people from his past to talk to. Her answer had been “You do WHAT?”

While she sometimes noticed she dreamt, she could not influence their course. But Quinlan could, for most of his long life.

Fifty years after their deaths, Quinlan met Tasa and Sura at will. They had been his first motivation at acquiring this ability. Then his pragmatism had taken over.

Mostly, he would use dreams to hone his skills in combat or war tactics. Training was training, whether in dreams or in body.

Quinlan picked up a stone which he rolled between his fingers. Looking, smelling or feeling helped stabilize his dream and assert his control. It had taken a great deal of time to achieve that level of proficiency. Still, the dream could slip away.

Today, he would practice opening his mind further. It frustrated him how he still lagged behind Lexi in that regard. He blamed peaceful times. His quest was over, and some of his drive for perfection had fanned.

For this practice, he elected to summon a guide. It was always the same person. It had been for two thousand years.

“Mother?” he called.

“Quintus.”

He turned around. Ancharia grinned. The intense sun reflected in her grey hair. When she appeared, it was always in the clothes she wore the night of their first encounter.

“You have neglected your training,” she said, surprised.

“I have. Would you like to know why?”

“I cannot imagine a valid reason behind such frivolity.”

This version of Ancharia did not know of his success. Her level of knowledge changed between her appearances. Quinlan failed to understand why. This time her ignorance was agreeable. Who did not enjoy sharing good news?

“Because the Master is dead. Defeated forever.”

Ancharia covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Her eyes turned shiny.

���Oh, my son! You did it! You slew the beast!”

Ancharia hugged him. Quinlan marveled at the warmth of her body and the scent of olive oil in her hair.

“We did. It’s over and we won.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much.”

“You taught me so much, could you help me once more?

“Anything! What do you wish to know, child?”

“I cannot open my mind as much as I wish.”

“I see.”

She took his hand and the countryside melted, replaced by a silver world. His own soul lied ahead and Lexi’s next to it. Everything shimmered with their light.

“Yours is brighter but captive. A firefly in a glass bottle,” said Ancharia with a nod.

Lexi’s soul rippled and danced, free. His was tightly enclosed within a transparent armor.

“How can I break the bottle?”

“You wished it here, simply wish it away.”

“If it were that simple…”

“Oh, but it is that simple. You haven’t done it yet because you are afraid.”

What could that possibly mean? She was part of his mind, so she couldn’t be mistaken.

“You let your light shine through and the feeling terrifies you. It feels like falling. You are scared of breaking once you reach the bottom. As she did.”

Ancharia gestured toward Lexi. Quinlan scowled.

“She is not broken.”

“I said she broke, not that she is still broken. Pay attention, child.”

The tone, soft but full of authority sent him into a whirlwind of nostalgia. Those dreams were wonderful. Those dreams were horrible. Her face turned gentle.

“You love her, don’t you?”

“More than anything.”

“Then why do you hide things from her?” she whispered.

A man appeared behind her. Sprawled on a concrete floor, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. Quinlan knew him because he had killed him. Ancharia peered at Quinlan’s face like a mother would look at a disobedient toddler. He took a step back.

He did not wish to continue this. Quinlan shut his eyes and the dream disintegrated. He awoke. It was not fleeing since this was not really Ancharia.

His Strigoi senses informed him that the sun was still high. Lexi slept deeply, undisturbed by his malaise. He preferred keeping it that way and attempted to fall back asleep. Her cell phone emitted a shrill sound. Lexi slammed her hand on the device then grunted when it rang on.

“This was not the alarm, someone is calling you,” Quinlan said.

She dragged the phone across the nightstand then her pillow. The glow of the phone made them squint. The screen was now shattered but still functional.

“Ha crap…not again,” she mumbled.

Gus’ name was barely visible between the cracks webbing across the glass.

“Gus? What’s happening?” she asked after taking the call.

She slurred her words from sleepiness.

“Yo…Did I wake you? It’s business hours ya know? Not very serious if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Screw you.”

He laughed.

“We’ve got a mission. It’s one of those collab settlements. Argentina this one. They had just started building stuff so it’s just a handful of people. They didn't give news for the last three checkups. This morning, their families went to find them. They cracked their car windows open, smelled ammonia and high gated the fuck out of there.”

Due to constant persecution, which had turned systemic after the passage of discriminatory laws, collaborators of the Strigoi regime sometimes chose self-exile. They built villages in remote areas with elaborate anti-Strigoi protections which required considerable preparations. Healthy and capable settlers arrived first and more vulnerable members of their families followed. Lexi looked at Quinlan and grimaced.

“Hey, Gus…I’m sorry but…”

“No,” he said instantly.

“I’ve got to be at the lab tomorrow…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s not something I can postpone.”

“Fine…fine. You gonna owe me for this one again. What about Q?”

Quinlan took the phone. Lexi buried her face in her pillow, and he stroked her back.

“The locals say there are caves nearby, a whole maze of them. We think they hide in there. A damn death trap.”

“Are those caves mapped?”

Gus had a sardonic snort.

“Not even a little.”

“I can still manage by myself and Eva can take Lexi’s team. When do we depart?”

“In six hours. See ya.”

He hung up which prompted Lexi to bury her face deeper.

“He will forgive and forget eventually. Not that there is anything to forgive. Having both of us for such a simple mission is redundant,” said Quinlan.

“He is so pig-headed…last time I missed a mission he called me ‘ma’am’ for a week.”

“Perhaps I should miss missions more often…”

Just a week prior Gus had called him a “snarky stuck-up party-pooper”. Whatever that meant.

Lexi looked at him with one eye and her cheek rounded from a smile. Of course, she would remember as well. It had been a source of great hilarity.

“I guess I should get ready and leave with you if I don’t want to run to New York,” she said and stretched out of bed. They had only one car.

“We still have plenty of time…if I drive.”

The mission might take anything from two days to a week. It sounded short and in the scope of his lifetime, it was laughable. But every second out of each other’s light felt like an eternity. Quinlan gently pulled her back to bed.

****

Raul was quiet and grave after he picked Quinlan up from Manhattan. He should have been sharing the details of the mission and the plans he had no doubt already devised with his cousin. Something was bothering him, and Quinlan detailed his face for a clue. Unshaven and dull-eyed, the Sun Hunter formed a sorry picture.

“You are distracted,” said Quinlan.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

Quinlan would not ask for more. It did not appear like the issue was relevant to the mission. It was likely a personal matter.

“Eva and I broke up. She wants kids and I don’t. T’was mutual but shit it still sucks.”

There was a moment of silence. Lexi would have described it as ‘awkward’. She also would have encouraged him to support Raul in this trying time. Humans liked to have their choices validated.

“It sounds to me like you both made a sensible choice. Procreation is not a subject that allows for compromise.”

Raul looked at him in complete disbelief then burst out laughing.

“Are you kidding me? You’re the one who actually gets it. Everyone from Gus to my fucking mailman thinks I’m an idiot, and I should just have a kid with her because I would end up liking it anyway.”

His lips rose in disgust.

“What kind of fucked up advice is that? Like what if I don’t end up liking it? I can’t return the kid, can I?”

“No, I do not believe there is such a thing as a return policy on offspring.”

“Thank you! They all act like I’m some kind of monster. And I want to scream at them that they are the messed-up ones.”

Quinlan did not want to encourage Raul’s ranting but this last point picked his curiosity.

“How so?”

“Those guys from Iceland…you read their report? Yeah, so they say we won’t get rid of the Strigoi at this rate. Except if we make a vaccine. And the handful of brainiacs left say it won’t happen. I’m not having a kid if there is a single chance they might end up infected and then they’d have to swallow a fucking pill and I’d have to hold their hand while they die. Or worse.

“They would not swallow that pill and they would turn and I would have to hunt them down and look in the face of my kid, with their brains too scrambled for them to understand who I am. Then I’d have to kill them. Like when Lexi killed Amir. I’m not doing that.”

“You think the others irresponsible for not having such considerations?”

“You bet your ass I do. But I’m not gonna tell them that. Would be social suicide.”

Raul shook his head.

“And I get it, you know? I love Angela, and I would die for her but she ain’t even mine and I worry all the fucking time.”

Quinlan worried about those humans as well. And above all, he worried about the Sun Hunters. But his fear was different. Humans did not expect to bury the children they loved while he lived with that certainty. He worried their ends might come too early or too painfully. Quinlan considered his fellow Hunter under a new light and with more respect.

“You know Amir would have been twenty-five tomorrow?” asked Raul.

Lexi had told him, but he found it too crushing to keep track of such anniversaries. Should he maintain that habit, his entire year would be spent grieving.

 The airport was almost empty. Few New Yorkers were willing to leave the safety of their city. After the first checkpoint, Raul and Quinlan waited in the quarantine area for two hours. In that room, the walls were covered with various instructions and information. Posters gave advice on avoiding Strigoi abroad (staying inside at night, avoiding forests and countrysides etc…). In a corner, a smaller placard showed the faces of collaborators on the run, including the two doctors who had so far escaped their execution following the Manhattan trials. The larger posters encouraged travelers to report any person showing symptoms of infection to the dedicated hotline of their destination countries. Such telephone numbers were listed underneath.

Raul took this time to share all that he knew about the mission. Seventeen men and two women were missing and drone sweeps had found nothing. The locals would direct them to the caves but were instructed to remain put for the moment. Quinlan agreed with that order. It would be stupid to send humans to their deaths when this was a trivial task for him.

Nurses came with U.V. lights. Unsurprisingly, Raul was not infected and they did not attempt to check Quinlan for worms. The flight would last fourteen hours and to prevent Raul from opening up about his feelings once more, Quinlan extracted a book from his pocket.

“Watcha reading?”

“A Tale of Two Cities.”

“Dickens, huh? A bit modern for you, no?”

Quinlan looked up, mildly surprised Raul knew about that novel. Then he read on as Raul took out a familiar comic book from his bag.

“You read this drivel as well?”

“Lexi is right you know, this is tight.”

-----

Their New York apartment was small, but the simple decoration made it feel bigger. Though the population in the city had decreased dramatically after the Fall, real estate was still rare despite laws promoting their availabilities. Buildings close to the blast of the atomic bomb had been deemed too structurally unstable and were being demolished one by one. Other flats and houses still required thorough decontamination. No one wanted another plague because a worm had managed to survive in a carpet.

Lexi waited for opening hours by watching TV. Since Quinlan did not care for this form of entertainment, she took advantage of his absence to enjoy shows. Some of them had laugh tracks, and she could only imagine the judging looks Quinlan would have given her. It was soon time for her to go.

The neighbors often rushed to their doors to watch her leave. She pretended she could not hear their hurried steps and their breathing when she locked her door and made her way to the elevator. It was time to abandon this flat. Humans here had grown too curious. Perhaps this time they could find something more isolated. She would insist on it.

A delivery man grunted a hello without looking up from his phone when the doors slid open. Somewhere after they passed the tenth floor he must have looked up because his heartrate became deafening. She also ignored him.

A few years ago she might have attempted a nod or a smile, but she had since learned it was pointless. Adults stared or attempted too hard not to. Children old enough to have seen Strigoi sometimes cried and once a very old woman had fainted.

Fortunately, Lexi could drive from her building parking lot to the one in her office of her company, Lifeline. Her assistant welcomed her with a pile of papers to sign. The red circle logo of the company and its name, Lifeline, was printed on each page.

“Could you get me a replacement phone and send this one out for repair?” she asked.

She took her sim card and memory card out of the phone before handing it out to him.

“At this point, you might want to consider buying screens in bulk.”

“Or they could make them sturdier.”

“I doubt anyone is making anything of this brand at the moment. The prices increase all the time.”

“Thanks for the info. Look up if they are any companies making phones and get me one of those.”

It was a common problem. Qualified workers and infrastructure were used for essentials and as long as old electronics were available from the pre-Fall times, resources were rarely spared to produce more. For her own company, it had also been a struggle. Most of their equipment during the first year had come from local universities whose labs were deserted. Three-quarter of the staff working with this equipment had been trained on the job.

Things were finally running smoothly. Now they were producing blood locally in other countries. Today a German envoy had come to open another lab in Munich. They had the equipment and needed cell cultures and know-how.

Lexi stood behind a two-way mirror, a small microphone against her cheek. The receiver was tucked neatly in her employee’s ear and hidden by her thick dark hair. Her name was Claire. The prospective client entered and they greeted each other then sat on each side of a large desk. Humanity was not ready for a Dhampir selling blood.

“So you are interested in opening a production facility with us…” said Claire with an impassible face.

“I believe there’s been a mistake.”

The man smiled without any sign of confusion. Lexi decided she did not like him.

“You’re not interested in buying blood? We don’t sell anything else,” said Claire without returning the smile.

“We are interested in all of Lifeline. The entire company.”

He took out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and deposited it ostensibly within Claire’s reach. She didn’t acknowledge it.

“It’s not for sale.”

“My employer has the infrastructure to produce and distribute blood to half the world.”

Lexi rolled her eyes. The half of the world in question being the one that could pay generously for it.

“It changes nothing,” said Claire as she got up and pulled down on her blazer jacket.

“Your unwillingness to expand this enterprise kills people.”

Claire tilted her head and Lexi stopped herself from growling.

“What we’ve done so far has saved plenty, and we‘ll continue doing so by ourselves.”

“Make him leave. You don’t need to be polite,” said Lexi.

“By coming here under false pretenses, you wasted your time. Worse, you wasted my time. Security is on its way.”

Lexi chuckled. Unless Claire had telepathic powers, no one was on their way. The man shrugged, tossed a card on the desk and strutted out of the room. He did not linger in the building but he also did not rush.

Claire sat back down, undid her tight bun and kicked off her shoes.

“We were preparing for this extension for weeks. You should eat him.”

“I cannot eat people just because you don’t like them.”

“Not with that attitude,” she mumbled.

Lexi removed the earpiece and returned to the office.

“Let’s hope the next one isn’t a capitalist pig,” Claire said as she picked up her shoes.

“I’ll close the file and join you at the lab when I’m done.”

Lexi took the card and sat down. It was the man’s name and number as well as the name of his company, Axatus Inc. and its symbol, an infinity loop. She shoved it in a drawer on a pile of dozens of such cards. Lexi ground her teeth. Quinlan had gone on a mission without her because of a dick who thought he could make money on the backs of the sick. She opened her laptop and searched for the next flight for Argentina. Only the next day. At that time, the Sun Hunters would be at the mission site in the middle of nowhere. Possibly already finished. Today would be another day of boring lab work and phone calls. She held her head. It felt so empty. Of all days to be alone, this one sucked. Lexi took a deep breath and went to work.

***

The Belvedere Castle’s exterior had changed since the Master’s head had rolled on its terrace. The Mayor had converted it into a museum about the Fall. Or rather a warning that betraying one’s race would not be forgiven nor forgotten. The only “frivolous” spending authorized by the city’s administration.

With a handful of flowers bought from a nearby vendor, Lexi strolled the path leading to the open-air theater. As the sun set, the clear skies were more golden than ochre. Facing the pond, slabs of granite stood erect. The names of the fallen were etched on the stone. Those who had fought the Master but not lived long enough to see victory. The list was not in alphabetical order. On the first stone at the very top, she read the name Abraham Setrakian. Followed by Dutch Velders, Vasily Fet, Nora Martinez, and Ephraim Goodweather. Next to the names were holes just large enough to accommodate the stem of a flower. When she knew the name, even vaguely, she deposited a white rose. When she reached the last name, a stone weighted her stomach. She spoke to him in her mind, and she imagined the words forever lost in the silver place.

“Happy birthday.”

She could almost hear Amir laugh at her. Others were coming and she left before fearful humans could spot her.

Lexi needed to run an errand then she could return to Greystone. There was no way she would face Gus without an apology. And those worked better in the form of a gift.

Lexi seldom shopped in New York. She also took care to never do so with any regularity or discernable pattern. At every gate leading to the city and at the main exit at the airport once could read the city’s motto: “New York, safest city in the world.”

And it was true by any measure. Little to no crime, no homelessness, and above all, no Strigoi. But Lexi had not felt safe in the city since the Manhattan trials.

Only a handful of people roamed the supermarket when Lexi entered. She made a detour in the aisles to avoid them and reached the back shelves. Bright red and with random goods carefully displayed. Some were secured down with chains, others were attached to bulky anti-theft devices.

Lexi had noticed with the years that while Gus shared liquor or wine readily with other Hunters, there was a bottle he didn’t. In a state of drunken cheerfulness, he had shared how his mother had given him his first drink on his eighteenth birthday in the form of cherry liquor and coke. Of course, it hadn’t actually been his first drink but still. Every birthday, they toasted with it. By Lexi’s estimate, Gus had two birthdays worth of cherry liquor left, and the coke was long gone.

After calling half a dozen shops, this was the only one still stocked with those products. With a satisfied grunt, she grabbed the bottles. Finding the perfect present was always a thrill.

Only one person stood at the cashier’s desk and she waited with her head down. Under those lights even with her hood and her tinted glasses people would notice her skin if they paid attention.

“That’ll be 75 dollars,” said the cashier, a young man, with an empty expression.

“But no…I used my food card. This is all food.”

Lexi sighed quietly and took a step back. This would take a while. The cashier rolled his eyes and pointed at the groceries.

“Green labels go on food cards but not blue or red ones. If you put back the steaks and the pancake mix then you’re golden.”

“But…”

“Look, you can either pay for those or put them back. There is no haggling here.”

“Fine,” he said and tossed the two items toward the cashier. Then lower he added “stupid commie system.”

The cashier looked at him with the wounded pride of a New Yorker.

“You can go back to Chicago and starve with the rest of them.”

The customer turned bright red, almost swelling from his anger. Until the security guard walked by as if taking a stroll. After scanning the food card once more, the total fell to zero dollars but a warning appeared.

“Are you aware this will max out your card for a week?” said the cashier in a rehearsed tone.

“Yeah, fine.”

“Are you aware your choice of items lacks sufficient intake of a vital nutrient?”

“That’s ‘cause you took my damn steaks.”

The cashier clicked another button and a table listing vitamins popped on the screen.

“We advise you to consider switching to the iodine enriched bread or including serving of seaweed salad. Both those items are currently available here, for your convenience.”

“Fuck you,” said the man and left with his groceries.

“Charming,” whispered Lexi.

For a moment the cashier nodded in agreement until he looked at her face. He made a strange strangled sound, but still scanned the items.

“It’ll be 205 dollars,” he said. “Please.”

His voice was suddenly high-pitched. She paid and left quickly. With a stone in the pit of the stomach, she rushed out of the city.

-----

The situation perturbed Quinlan. Details stood out as soon as they reached the cave.

Its entrance formed a wound in a wall of sharp stone and bled a trickle of water. The Sun Hunters stayed behind and stared at the wet sand with similar apprehension. The soil stretched undisturbed, save for Quinlan’s boot prints. For good measure, he closed his eyes and focused. Sterile water and the mineral scent of old places. In the depth of the cave, the rushing of an underground river. Strigoi could not inhabit that maze and he would not risk venturing deeper.

“Is there another entrance?” asked Quinlan as he returned to the hunters.

“The locals say that’s the only one,” said Gus.

“They assumed the villagers were gone but I doubt they searched their houses thoroughly. If their first idea is that Strigoi are suddenly able to cross streams, I’d think twice about trusting their every judgment.”

Raul waved over their local guide and asked him in Spanish if they had searched the village. He looked at them with incredulity.

“Ni en pedo,” he said. He maintained a good distance between him and Quinlan.

“What did that mean?” asked Quinlan, unfamiliar with the expression.

“Don’t know but it doesn’t matter, we’re gonna check anyway,” said Gus.

Then he grumbled about “weird-ass vanishing Strigs”.

 A dozen houses surrounded a hangar. The buildings nestled within the confines of high fences surmounted by U.V lights. The gate hung wide open. The Sun Hunters divided into units to search the habitations. Piles of beams, bricks and power tools stood by most. Half the buildings lacked windows. One didn’t have a roof.

Quinlan squinted despite his sunglasses and hood. Sunlight fell mercilessly on his head. In the distance, a chain of mountains appeared almost as blue as the sky. Not a trace of civilization as far as he could see. The vegetation was sparse but the settlers had had no intention of cultivating the ground classically. Even with more regular sunlight than up north, indoor farming remained more reliable.

The teams emerged from the houses empty-handed. Unsurprising. The ammonia scent was diffuse and he could not hear the savage sounds produced by Strigoi.

Only the hangar remained unsearched.

“Get the spikes,” he asked a Hunter.

For Strigoi hiding in soil, they used javelins coated with silver. The hangar reminded him strongly of the lowest level of the bunker. It smelled of wet dirt and fertilizer but not of sap. They had not yet planted anything. Soil filled half a dozen elevated beds deep enough to accommodate trees. And slumbering Strigoi.

Eva and Raul’s units had the spikes. It satisfied Quinlan to see them work together without a trace of awkwardness. When he glanced at Gus, he could tell he was making the same observation. Quietly, a dozen hunters spread and lifted the metal spikes above the black dirt. The rest stood at the ready with carefully aimed rifles. Quinlan also prepared, wounding up his leg muscles and drawing his sword.

Eva and Raul looked at each other, and she raised one finger, then two then three. At that mark, the Hunters stabbed down as one. The spikes pierced the soil. Quinlan tensed, his gaze sliding across all the visible earth. Nothing happened.

Strange.

Gus pinched the base of his nose and exchanged a look with Quinlan. He slashed at his own neck with his hand and Quinlan nodded.

“Listen up, guys! Pack all the gear except for the drones. Marcus, we do a last sweep, I’ll drive.”

The Hunters just as disappointed as their boss returned to the SUVs and loaded back all their equipment. Marcus tweaked with his drone by the jeep.

“You can smell them, right?” Gus asked.

“I do but only in the settlement and its repartition is unfocused. Rather unusual.”

“This shit ain’t right.”

“Agreed. I will investigate the houses.”

Gus departed with Marcus. The buzzing of the drone soon crisscrossed the clear sky.

The houses were Spartan and all identical. Merely blocks of wood and concrete built for safety without any regard for aesthetics. Inside each finished house, he found signs of struggle. Broken furniture, smears of dried blood already swarming with flies and the diffuse stench of ammonia.

Something about the blood also bothered him. He could not put his finger on the exact reason until he reached the kitchen of the last house. There had been a fight in there. The table was broken across the middle and the floor spattered with the remnants of an uneaten meal.

Quinlan ignored those distracting scents. He followed a faint trail and found his target under the fridge. Without much effort, he tossed the piece of furniture aside. Underneath, he found dust, more spilled food and a thin metal cylinder the size of a battery. It ended in a vicious barb covered with blood. The probe of a Taser.

Quinlan brought the object up to his nose. Now he knew. This was what he should have been smelling until now. Pure human blood, this one O negative. In the other houses, the blood had been what he expected from a bag. Old blood with the tinge of a mild anti-coagulant used for preservation. He had spent so long consuming such treated blood that his nose had grown accustomed to the perfume of the drug. Quinlan put the probe in his pocket and went back to the SUV. He hailed Raul.

“I need a UV lamp.”

Raul, without question, rummaged in one of the trunks and tossed him a heavy torchlight.

Quinlan returned to the kitchen and closed all blinds. He switched on the lamp and the purple glow filled the room. Fluorescent yellow specks covered the floors and the lower parts of the walls. Strigoi guano. Like a mist. It made little sense for a Strigoi to release its waste that way. It also made little sense for Strigoi to use weapons on their prey.

“Call Gus and tell him to come back,” he told Raul as he handed him the UV lamp back.

“You found something?”

“I found evidence that no Strigoi ever stepped inside this settlement. This is a simple case of human on human violence. Not our problem.”

“What the fuck?”

He showed him the Taser probe. Eva stared with keen interest.

“I don’t recognize the brand. Must be a new one,” she said.

“Someone sprayed Strigoi guano inside the houses as well as bagged blood. This was staged.”

Eva made a wry face.

“You think someone didn’t like the idea of collabs living the high life?”

“A highly trained and resourceful someone then,” said Quinlan.

“Yeah, so they won’t ever find them and if they do it’s gonna be in tiny pieces.”

“Possibly, but it does not involve us.”

When they informed their Argentinian guide, he was relieved.

“So there are no Strigoi here? It’s safe?” he said in Spanish with an accent that made it difficult for Quinlan to follow.

“Yes, but you might want to call the police since…” said Raul.

“Of course,” said the guide insincerely.

“Give them this,” added Quinlan and he handed the probe which the guide took reluctantly.

He held the object as if ready to toss it away as soon as he was free of their gazes.

“We’ll call in a few days to check that you do,” said Raul.

The guide waved impatiently and after more pushing from Raul, promised to inform the local authorities. Quinlan doubted the investigation would amount to anything. After all, who cared about a handful of missing collaborators?

***

Quinlan was not in a pleasant mood when they landed in New York. None of the Sun Hunters were. They dragged themselves out of the plane and toward the luggage retrieval area. No satisfaction of a job well done counterbalanced their fatigue.

“Maybe I should just retire,” Gus said after sipping at a cup of cheap coffee bought in the airport.

A few white hairs peppered his temples and looked away. By human standard, Gus was young, merely in his thirties. By Hunter standards he was well within his rights to quit and enjoy a comfortable pension.

Of the Sun Hunters who had celebrated the cleaning of New York, few remained. The crowd of Hunter attracted looks, friendly nods and a few cheers. Quinlan cared little for such attention but it helped his human companions.

When they made their way to the parking lot, they stood straighter. Quinlan took the wheel and Gus sat in the passenger seat while in the back Raul and another Hunter snoozed.

“Will you? Retire?” asked Quinlan.

“Dunno. I always feel like that when something goes to shit. Let me finish my coffee. When my brains start back up, maybe I'll know.”

He raised his cup and took another sip. When Quinlan pulled up in front of the Sun Hunter headquarters, he could not feel Lexi within the city. Quinlan checked his phone. She had gone back to Greystone as her work deal had come short. On the last line of her text, she wrote,

“If you focus I'm sure you would be able to see me from New York.”

He borrowed a car then left the city. The canals running through the streets had been decommissioned threes year after New York’s clearing. It was dark but the streets were bright and bustling with life. It was always jarring when they traveled to other cities. In most of the world, humans stayed inside their homes at night. Most shops opened and closed depending on sunlight hours.

New York was free of those concerns. While here humans felt safe, it did not change how hideous those buildings and streets were.

He stopped in a deserted road still hours from Greystone, cut the engine and used the silence of the countryside to look within himself. Dream Ancharia’s words distracted him for an instant but he succeeded in pushing them away.

Lexi had told him to find the door that would lead to the silver place. But its doorknob was round and smooth and slippery. The whole exercise frustrated him. Through this door, he would be able to see but most of the time he didn't. He simply attempted to relax until he felt warm all over. When he did that near her then he felt her as though touching her with invisible hands.

He tried both. Failed at the first then also at the second. He tried again until the frustration made him growl. It was pointless. Quinlan took the road again.

When he reached the familiar forest of Greystone, he still could not feel Lexi. He was surprised since at that distance the Bond should have been back. The deeper he drove, the more his surprise morphed into worry.

“Lexi?”

There was no answer because she was not there. But her car was. When he entered, her bag sat in the entrance.

The wooden floor of their bedroom creaked. He focused on that sound and found another. A heartbeat. Someone was in the house. He tried again to find the Bond and failed.  

This was his home and someone had violated it with their unwanted presence. A burglar? Or someone with more nefarious intentions? His thought went to the terrorist who had almost blinded Lexi.

Quinlan growled lowly, unsheathed his sword and ran up the stairs. A body smashed into him and his sword left his grip. As they tumbled down the stairs in a mess of limbs, Quinlan noticed several things.

White hair, inhuman strength and the perfume of limes with a sweet finish. Their fall ended abruptly as they collided against a wall. Both jumped to their feet in a eerily similar fashion. She stared at him with wide eyes and he gawked back. It made no sense.

As thought in pain, she touched her temples and shook her head. She looked the same, smelled the same but she could not be here because the Bond was not. Their home, the real one, the only that mattered, was gone. If he had been able to vomit, he’d have done so.

“How?” whispered Lexi.

----

The woman tossed a piece of paper on the table. It was a police report in Spanish.

“They were sloppy. This can’t happen again.”

“If this new formulation works, there won’t be any need for more subjects,” said the man.

“You actually think we are going to find a formulation that works?”

“Well, yes…you don’t? Why the hell did you accept this then?”

“Because I was tired of hiding and if another rich idiot wants to waste his money on this wild goose chase, who am I to refuse?”

He shook his head.s

“If we manage we won’t need to run. It would dwarf the invention of vaccines or the discovery of antibiotics. We could help peop…”

“Shut up. Don’t give me the help people crap or I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Fine. But at least tell me you understand this is our way out of this mess.”

“I do, I also think it’s not the only way out.”

[kingofthewilderwest]

Aurgh it’s hard as fuck when your main squick is something that’s popular with like, almost every other human being ever, and is intended to be one of those safe everyday conversations you can have with both intimate friends and complete strangers. Where it’s supposed to be a thing that humanity uses as a uniting, welcoming, bonding force... but to me it’s just... a really uncomfortable reminder of a host of bad things.

I’m talking food here.

Food conversations often make me feel uncomfortable. Vastly uncomfortable. There’s an intricate set of conditions for which conversations I’m fine with and which will bother me, but no one except me is going to know all that minuteness. Point is: food conversations, food socialization, it’s everywhere. And it’s so hard to handle. Because i know everyone wants to be nice and they’re reaching out to me, but every time they do that kind gesture, it’s alienating and disturbing me more. And so 9 times out of 10, I put on a polite face and humor them because I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t let them know it bothers me. 

Dudes I am like, always trying to minimize my discomfort for others, because I know it’s impractical to act otherwise.

Which means I’m constantly living in a state of internally squirming.

Let’s be clear: I am someone who’s pretty comfortable giving feedback to friends, talking back and forth about what does/doesn’t work between us. I’m not someone socially anxious at approaching topics like these. I’m FINE telling friends, “Hey, I don’t like X, how about we do Y?” But just... food’s an impossible battle, dudes, and you can’t do it to complete strangers, to EVERYONE you meet, to EVERY circumstance you go through... it’s just... it’s a losing battle and I’d rather be polite and not make others feel uncomfortable, than constantly jut out to no good result.

For like. The one time out of ten I ask people (usually close friends) to avoid food-related actions and conversations, it’s a roll of the dice whether or not their behavior changes, even when they don’t complain “That makes it hard to talk to you!” Usually the confiding conversation changes little. Even when they’re trying to do something. 

The problem is that food reminds me I’m socially ostracized, and it reminds me of a lot of the mental illness and self-care issues I’ve chronically had in my life. In fact, food is a really good symbol of everywhere I just STRUGGLE so like, yeah, surprise surprise, I hate hearing and talking about it and stuff.

So like. Number one. I have Celiac Disease. I got diagnosed as an infant (praise God) and have lived a strict gluten free diet my entire life, even before most people knew what the word meant or knew the word existed. I have pride for being a Celiac, but I don’t like what the social impacts are. I learned to turn down food offered to me. Which is like. A lot of the time, dudes. Humans bond through food. But growing up without food bonding is....... yeah wow, dudes, apparently it messes you up, who knew.

1. You gotta turn down the dinner invitations for people who want to cook for you, knowing they’ll have nooooo idea how to prepare safe gluten-free friendly foods. Or, you don’t want to be a Drastic Social Burden(TM) that’s difficult to prepare for (because there’s so much RESEARCH they’d have to do, and so much I’d have to DOUBLE CHECK for them, just to make sure I could eat one fucking cupcake). So any time there’s a social gathering around dinner that isn’t going to a restaurant, it turns into a major cringe reaction for me, wishing that this hangout were literally ANY other time of day.

Mealtimes, which everyone else uses as a way to bond with one another in a positive, delightful way... are one of the Biggest Ways to make me feel alienated, uncomfortable, socially burdensome, on edge. Instead of making me feel included, I feel all the more aware I’m the odd one out. During the times people *DO* actually cook gluten free for me, I feel an unending wave of gratefulness piled on social burden, because they had to go out of their fucking way to figure this out, due to the problematic nature of me having strict dietary restrictions.

2. You know how often food gets offered to you as gifts? I have to constantly turn down those gifts. I already lack gift giving abilities; turning down gifts is socially cumbersome but something I’m always waiting to have to do. Instead of ever feeling grateful someone offered me something (I know they mean well), I have to ruin the moment by asking to see the packaging for the ingredients list, or saying “no”. And someone saying “I’d love to cook for you!” just makes me think “oh god oh god oh god NO. please NO.”

3. Really fun hanging out with friends and “Let’s go eat” and you have to veto 3/4 of the restaurants they want to go to because you can’t eat there. Frankly, I often succumb to “Pick what you want, I’ll figure something out for me.” My friends don’t like that and insist to include me (food bonding [sigh]) but yeahhhh, I like to wimp out on that rather than bother.

4. Oh hi guess what it also goes into being left out of religious experiences like church communions. Until larger churches started offering gluten free wafers to replace bread... if I wanted to be included in communion... I either had to whisper something to the pastor before she gave me bread, or I’d have to give her my gluten free bread ahead of time so she could give it to me specially (this is what my mom did for me, who always tried to make me feel included as a little kid... bake me my own cakes for birthday parties... arrange this stuff with the church... what have you). And let’s not get started on the awkward conversations I had when friends invited me to seder and I had to do a lot of make-sure-ing there too.

5. Okay guys you know how COMMON it is for people to text you food pictures? Look what I made. This is my dinner. What have you. How that will IMMEDIATELY set off my discomfort??? But if I don’t respond, I’ll get a text half an hour later, “Hey, did you see my concoction?” 

6. Ngl this makes me 300000x more nervous if I have to do any food-related hosting event. Even if it’s “bring something to the potluck!” it throws me into so much distress. Now *I* have to pick food for *someone else*, when I live in a world where no one knows how to pick food for me. It makes me uncertain what to bring, what’s acceptable to bring, etc. I mean, I guess the one thing I have going for me is I make sure I bring stuff ANY person of ANY diet can eat, but like... there’s so much social discomfort. I get even more uncomfortable at the thought of trying to cook meals for people (doesn’t help I can’t cook to save my life) or hosting social events with snacks in them (ex: movie nights). 

THERE IS A REASON I DEFAULT TO “HEY WHO WANTS TO GO OUT TO DINNER, I’LL PAY!!!!” it’s the one non-uncomfortable way I can show my love to my friends, while dealing with a physical need I know they have (hunger). It’s not the “best” bonding way, but I try to minimize those experiences, get out of them, but like... if I’m offering to buy you dinner, THIS IS ***THE*** BEST I CAN DO AND I AM DESPERATE TO DO IT BECAUSE IT IS THE ***ONLY*** WAY I CAN FOOD BOND WITH YOU AND I KNOW YOU NEED THAT.

On and on and on and on and on. 

Like, on its own, living with Celiac is damn EASY. It’s not hard to cook and eat gluten free meals. But it’s the interaction with all the other human beings, who default to eating gluten-filled meals, and trying to get me in on the socialization of gluten-filled meals... that makes it so problematic to navigate. And means I’m constantly feeling socially........ jutting out. Square peg in round hole phenomenon.

But it’s not just the fact that everyone else grew up bonding with food and meals... and I was separated out and couldn’t bond. 

Uarghghghg it’s not just Celiac. Celiac is simple. Celiac is normal. I’m 100% chill with the fact I have it, and I actually get angry when people suggest it’s something that should be “cured.” Fuck you dudes, I’m normal, I’m healthy, my life is great, it’s not my fault you like wheat and think I should like it too. 

But. Where things get really emotionally hairy. It’s that food is a pinnacle of my non-neurotypical issues. I forever screwed up my diet in college when I got so depressed I quit eating regularly and lost something like 10-15 lb (which was... like... 10% of my body weight, yiiiiikes). It became this... self-imposed contest... where I tried to skip as many meals as possible. It became a Rule that I didn’t eat Sundays. It took years for me to eat 2-3 meals a day again. And it forever impacted the health of what I ate. I have really baaaaaad diet.

And diet is always the first thing to get impacted when I have a depression-y spell. It’s the hardest thing for me to get in control to try to take care of myself. I’m CONSTANTLY struggling to take care of myself even during my happy periods, when it comes to food, and so you can only imagine what happens to my diet when I’m in my many bad spells. Food represents the constant struggle, the constant inability for me to function. It sometimes feels like the symbol of my mental illness. It’s a battle I am constantly, constantly, constantly, constantly fighting. I’m fighting to get ONE meal a week that I’ve fucking cooked for myself. I’m fighting to eat things that could be called “meals” at all (don’t worry, I get my calories and shit in, I eat very regularly, I snack all the fucking time, I’m not underfed, I’m fiiiiiine, it’s just not... good nutritional value, and it relies heavily on restaurants or non-scratch non-recipe items). 

And when food is the epitome of so many bad things - inability to fit in socially, inability to take care of myself, a memory of times when I collapsed psychologically my freshman year of college and went into eating disorder mode... like dudes, I’m sorry, I’m not going to enjoy photos of your macaroni and cheese you texted me. It’s going to make me go into instant Red Flag Mental Mode where I’m thinking about nothing except constant internal battles I fight.

And yet.

Oh goodie.

Food is The Go To socializer. Food is a Nice Easy Topic. Food is everywhere, and I just bite my tongue and smile and tell someone, “Looks like a tasty dinner.”

[twistednuns]

February 2020

I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!

Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.

A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.

Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.

More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.

Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.

Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.

That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.

Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.

Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.

Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.

This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.

Carrot cake oats.

Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.

Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.

Peeling fresh carrots.

Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!

Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.

The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.

More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).

Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.

Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.

A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.

A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)

Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.

Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.

Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.

Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.

My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.

Blue eyeliner.

Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.

Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.

The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.

Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.

Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.

Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.

Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.

Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.

It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.

That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.

Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.

Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.

Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.

Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.

Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.

Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.

Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.

Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).      

I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.

Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.

Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.

[saturnmyg]

Lichterloh  | Kim Taehyung

Synopsis ⤑ you’ve heard endless stories about small towns. That the folks living there loves to gossip all day, that theres always that one kid dreaming of making in in the big city. And of course the tales about supernatural beings lurking in the woods. After moving into town your’e surprised that you landed in a place that seems to be brimming with those beings and how the town just accepts them. Yet somehow just shortly after you’ve settled down you find yourself pulled into a scavenger hunt on the lookout for a glowing head that belongs to the Dullahan named taehyung.’‘

➵ paring: Dullahan Taehyung  x Human reader

➵ A/n: happy halloween peeps!! 

 this is a part of the halloween collaboration!

| 12.9k words | Horror au |  gore | Major character death | action | small town horror au

| warnings: description of ungodly beings/ body horror

masterlist 

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

''Ah, that belongs into the living room'' you tell the movers and they nod at you.

You've lived your whole entire life in a high rise city, where theres constantly something going on. With the years passing by, the stress of trying to function in a system that forced you to think about your value as a human being, based on how productive were /how much money you can made, caught up to you.

So when you found about the small town named Silverdell you instantly packed your stuff and got ready to leave. Of course your mother opposed, saying that moving so far away from the family, to a small town that barely made it on the map was just dangerous. Nothing could change your mind so you proceeded with the moving, but you had to promise her to call her at least four times a week.

The weird thing though was that at first, you couldn't find the town. For some reason no matter who you asked for directions, they'd tell you that they never heard of that place and that you should ask someone else. Finally after driving for a few days through the midwest you finally arrived in silverdell, only to find the truck that had your belongings already standing in front of your house.

''You know'' you turn around to face the man thats standing next to you smoking a cigaret ‘’I’ve been wondering how that truck arrived here before me, considering that i couldn’t find this town’’

The man, who goes by the name of sam, chuckles. He’s a man of average height with a full beard and wild hair that lowkey reminds you of a pirate. ‘’that happens to every newcomer’’ he takes a long drag  of the cigaret ‘’you wont find silverdell until the town accepts you’’

You furrow your brow ‘’accept? as in the town council accepting you?’’

Sam shakes his head ‘’Silverdell has a mind on its own, no one can know about it or leave and come as they want without its approval’’

‘’so you have to send a letter to let them know you're leaving for a certain amounts of days?’’

‘’Nope'' Sam answers '' it will know’’

With furrowed brows you look away. His answer is confusing, sure he earlier said that silverdell has its own mind but its not like its actually alive, or even sentient. Your'e sure the reason why you couldn't find the town was because you're bad with directions.

‘’Oh please that one belongs into the kitchen, careful it has kitchen utensils inside.’’ You say to a young mover.

The blasting of the siren is so loud you jump out of your skin. Panicking you turn around to look up at the sky, where the sun is hanging low in the horizon and the blue hue has turned red.

‘’Whats going on?’’ you turn to sam with wide eyes.

Sam on the other hand, his expression is still the same, almost as if he knew that would happen and was counting down the seconds. He presses the cigarette against the fence to put it out ‘’The headless rider is about to come out’’

Slightly annoyed you look at the burnt mark of your wood fence before turning back to sam ‘’he what?’’

‘’No time to talk, first let’s get into the house’’ he ushers you towards the house where you see that all the other movers are already inside, peaking their head out of the door waiting for you two to enter.

''Wait whats going on, and why are you all in my house?'' you ask bewildered and shut the door behind you. Walking into the living room you see various movers sitting on the unfurnished floor while unpacking  your boxes.  

Embarrassed you walk up to them. ''please you don’t have to do that i can do that on my own’’ you scratch your cheek

‘’Don worry’’  one of the boys answers. ‘’Until the night rider is gone we have nothing to do anyways , might as well help you unpack’’

‘’Who’s the night rider?’’ you ask

Sam whose standing by the windows, closes the curtains and turns around to face the you all with a grim expression on. ‘’The headless rider is a being you shouldn't talk or think about’’

The boy whose the closest to you, and spoke up earlier, rolls his eyes ‘’there he goes again’’ and turns around to look at you again ‘’ theres a tale amongst the elder that the headless rider is a being that eat’s human souls and sometimes their body too but there hasn’t been such an incident in over two hundred ears’’ he explains and stretches his hand towards you ‘’anyways i’m jun, don’t worry about sam he's an old grim man who thinks death is lurking on every corner of this town’’

Jun looks around your age. He has dark honey colored skin with almost waist long black hair. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, showing an intricate tattoo on the right arm.

‘’I’m Y/n’’ you take his hand into yours and shake it ‘’but back to the headless rider’‘

‘’Ah yes’’ jun counters ‘’if you go by folklore then the night rider is the harbinger of death but if you go by what towns folk say then he’s a human eating monster’’

You raise your eyebrows at that

‘’Every sunset the rider comes out of the forest, holding a lit torch and gallops from one end of the town to the other with creatures from following him, weirdly though it’s always only one direction that he brings them to.  There are some theories that the reason he does that ,is because at sunrise he brings them back, but theres no evidence backing that up ‘’Jun finishes

‘’why has no one ever seen him?how do you even know that he exists? or know about his activities?’’ you ask baffled that the towns folk just believe something wholeheartedly without even having it seen with their own eyes.

‘’Because those who aren’t inside a building the moment the last siren ring, usually go missing the same evening’’ Jun answers with a serious expression

‘’That still doesn’t explain how this tale got spread around’’ you counter ‘’dead men tell no tales’’

Jun just blinks at you for a few seconds before shrugging his shoulders and continues to take items out of the box.

‘’Thats just how it is’’ Sam speaks up ‘’ when the siren rings you hide, when you see angels you ignore them, thats how it has been for decades’’ He faces the small radio thats on the table ‘’in this town its very dangerous to question traditions or rules, you ought to be careful’’ and curbs the knob.

The radio makes a static noise for a few seconds until you hear a bewildered nasal voice speak up

''Yoongi how can you say you don’t believe in them, even though you starred one dead in the eye and showed me a picture of it?''

The movers in your house all chuckle at that

The other person, presumably yoongi ,just sighs deeply almost as he's used and tired of the first host's outbreaks. '' first of all it was around eight feet tall and skinny like a stick figure i thought that was an abstract piece of art , theres no way that was wendigo''  

you stop in your tracks and look at the radio in perplex, ‘’a what now?’’ you ask no one in particular.

Sam who sees the look of confusion on your face just shrugs his shoulders, as if to tell you to get used to it

Hoseok just sputters '' man come on we all know what a wendigo looks like , yoongi how stubborn are you?, did you not notice the never ending eyes on its body?’’

‘’I 'mean it did but i was too occupied to not vomit from the stench of  greg’s butchery’’ yoongi counters

‘’God that store should be banned to serve people, i’m pretty sure he uses inhuman creatures to- hold on why were you even near that place?’’

''Clearly to not buy meat Hoseok'' yoongi answers ‘’i was just taking a stroll when i found it standing by the butchery’’

‘’Wouldn’t surprise me if it actually eats the shit Greg sells’’ Hoseok says ‘’but anyways back to reporting, as for no-’’

‘’-as for now no one's dead because we all know to stay inside if you don’t want to be taken by the council for seeing the headless, and i’m putting quotations marks on ''headless'' dear listeners,  rider'’’Yoongi interrupts

‘’Really?’’Hoseok asks ‘’so you think that the headless rider is something that the city council has made up to, i dont’ know , manipulate us?’’

‘’Lets be realistic’’ Yoongi counters ‘’no being can be alive without a head, even vampires are known to die if you cut their head off’’

‘’chickens do though’’ Hoseok continues ‘’like they'll continue to run around, which is frankly creepy as hell’’

‘’The minute you separate the brain from the neck, just like in humans, you’re going to get tremendous movement of the limbs, please did you not pay attention in biology class?’’

‘’Firstly i majored in art’’ Hoseok answers ‘’secondly everything that happened before college i have no memory of, hell i don’t even remember half of the shit from college.’’

‘’Thats sad’’ Yoongi states

‘’Anyways’’ Hoseok deviates from the topic ‘’as Yoongi said there are no reports of anyone gone missing this week, besides old Berta's cat but thats nothing new.’’

‘’It really isnt’’ Yoongi continues ‘’after this ad we'll open up the lines so please listeners stay tuned’’

While the ad is playing, you faintly hear the sound of the siren go off again but this time only for a few seconds. worriedly you look over to the window and see that another mover, this time a woman,  is pulling aside the curtain very slowly almost as if she's expecting a monster's face instead of hers to appear in the reflection. After inspecting the outside for a few seconds she finally turns around and gives the people in the room, that are watching her ,the thumbs up.

‘’Alright then’’ Jun says , stands up and stretches himself.

With him standing there in that pose you notice how well build jun is which adds more to his attractiveness and your’e just a little bit envious on how good he looks.

Jun notices you looking at him with your head tilted and with a slight pout and raises an eyebrow.

‘’Do you work out to have a figure like that?’’ you ask

Jun lets his arm fall down and runs one hand through his long thick hair ‘’oh hell no, this job is already working me out ,going to a gym would kill me’’ he laughs ‘’its all genetics’’

‘’Oh’’ you hum ‘’you sure are blessed’’

jun strikes a ridiculous pose that probably a character from Jojo's bizarre would do ‘’i know right?’’

Shaking your head you laugh and turn to the others who are still in the living room  ‘’thank you for helping me unpack’’

A large hand lands on your shoulder and you turn your head to see sam smiling at you ‘’no problem , thank you for letting us into your house otherwise we'd be dead meat’’

‘’Lets go’’ Sam hollers and some of the movers come out to the hallway, you didn’t even notice them going into your bedroom.

‘’The bed is set up’’ The man standing at the entrance of the living room, says and gives you a big smile.

You smile and bow slightly in thanks and the movers slowly trickle out of your house .

‘’Dont forget to tune in to the  community radio, they often announce stuff from the city council’’ sam says as he standing in the doorway ‘’ but dont worry if you forget it will turn on itself’’ he laughs and you just furrow your brow.

As you bud him goodbye you notice another figure standing next to you and you turn your head to see jun.

''Hope you don’t mind that i ripped a paper off but heres my number, lets hang out or go shopping or something, i feel like we'd be good friends’’ Jun hands you a piece of paper

Usually you're not one to take numbers from men's, since a lot of them , if not almost all, have a hidden agenda.  Which you don’t feel that Jun currently has, the feeling you get from him is more of a theatrical person thats always dramatic. You know, like, laying in a field of roses after your crush got asked out by someone else- type of person.

Basically hilarious.

So you accept the small piece of paper and smile at him ‘’sure , i'll text you, might take a while though because i first have to get used to this place’’

‘’No problem’’ Jun waves his hand dismissively ‘’if you got any questions though just text me i'll help ya’’  and walks out of your house , waving his hand with a big smile on his face.

Chuckling slightly you close the door and walk down the hallway into your bedroom.

You truly are grateful that the movers helped you unpack and put your furniture together, because you really wouldn't know how to without getting confused because you're so bad at following instructions. Well its not like Ikea makes it easy to follow and they keep giving people extra assets that just end up frustrating everyone who buys the furniture

The big queen sized bed takes up most of the space in your room but you don’t mind that, at least you're able to have one not like when you used to live in the big city , where the apartments were narrow but expensive.

besides the bed and various boxes that contain clothes there really isn't anything in the bedroom yet. The emptiness makes you slightly uneasy and you're overcome with the feeling of panic and dread. It’s the type of emotion you get after the excitement and adrenaline is gone, your’e left with uneasiness and panic thats slowly seeping yet throbbing from your chest as if you have a hole where your heart is supposed to be. For whatever reason you feel like you're back to being 18, back to the kid who kept getting panic and anxiety attacks over everything,  back to the kid who never lived without a family , yet alone in  another city.

That emotion over comes you so strongly, that for a second you feel like the walls are closing on you and you're getting choked. You shake your head and slap your cheeks a few time, before letting your hands fall down and almost run into the bathroom.

You slam the door open and in two quick long strides you're standing in front of the sink. Your hands are trembling as you reach for the faucet and turn it. The water feels cold underneath your finger tips and you gather some of it onto your palms before leaning down and splashing it onto your face. The coolness of the water a little bit takes the panic away but its still lingering in your chest.

You step away from the sink and lower yourself to the floor ,where you wrap your arms around your legs with your head hanging between your knees. For the next 20 minutes you're slowly rocking yourself from side to side , while taking in deep regular breaths.  It’s a technique you learned online a while ago and has up to now proven to be useful.

As you finally have calmed down , you slowly get up from the floor and see your reflection in the mirror. Your hair is messy, sticking up in different directions, your complexion is slightly green, which you think has to do with the fluorescent lighting if anything, and you turn away.

You walk out of the bathroom, down the hallway back into your bedroom.  You open one of the boxes that has clothes written on it and take out a shirt. Not even bothering to look for pants , you get changed , open up another box that has the blanket and pillows inside, and throw them on the bed before getting onto it.  You remember that your phone fell earlier and lean down to pick it up, scroll through your podcast app before finally deciding on which episode to listen to. You put the phone right next to your head and just a few seconds later you're out like a light.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Closing the door behind you , you take a deep breath. Yesterday night was , well to say, horrible. You've always had anxiety issues , not in the way that you have trouble talking to people or talk in public , its more that once you're left alone you get the so-called "what-next thoughts". Which always plays out the worst case scenario that could happen to you. Meaning you instantly realize how insignificant your existence is and that if you died right now, it would take weeks for anyone to notice. You've been getting help for that though. Before you moved to silverdell you doctor gave you a prescription so that you could get it refilled at the pharmacy.

which is where you're currently headed to. Silverdell is a beautiful town. Alongside the street there are trees ,which leafs already have turned brown and orange. The air is so crispy to the point where if it wasn’t so sunny you'd think it might snow at any time.

A breeze of cold air blows and you tighten the scarf around your neck. It’s getting close to the end of september and the streets already smells of cinnamon and mulled wine. As you're enjoying the view you notice a trail of kids running past you while giggling and shoving each other, and you smile.

You've always liked working with children, they hold a lot of freshness and innocence , live in their own little creative bubble , and yet are very understanding of a lot of things that parents be overreacting about. The only reason why they then later on sometimes turn out  to have a bad attitude / personality is because of the way they were raised. They subconsciously tend to soak the behaviors in their environment  ,up like sponges, not even realizing that those behaviors aren't socially acceptable. Thats why you became a teacher, to at least lead the kids in the right path but also protect them from the cruelty of the world and society.

Speaking of school, tomorrow will be your first day as a teacher in silverdell. You're slightly nervous but excited, you just hope that your coworkers are nice and not demons disguised as humans like at the last school you worked at.

You shake your head at that thought, you'll cross the bridge when you get to it.

‘‘god please let me find the pharmacy’‘ you silently pray and take out your phone , according to google maps its only a few meters away from you

Turning around the corner you finally arrive at the pharmacy. It’s a small white store that has mint colored decorations, you also spot various pot, plants, around the entrance that gives the store a welcoming feeling.  

Walking up to the entrance, you see that one of the plants is a cactus. When you arrive you bend down to inspect it. It’s a huge dark green cactus that has  multiple vertical lines going down the round figure with needles sticking out. At the top there is a hole, you're not really sure if its an actual hole or if its just an illusion that was created by the lighter color, but you see that there is where the most needles are gathered.

Out of curiosity and impulse you reach out and softly lay a finger on the plant, to which you are, to no ones surprise, stung by a needle. You straighten up while clutching your hand to your chest  and look at your hand. you press the finger together to see a tiny drop of blood coming out of the wound and sigh.

Shaking your head you let your arm fall down, give the plant a last glance before entering the pharmacy.

At the counter stands a woman that seems to be in her forties. Her hair is tied into a braid with stray strands framing her face that has a warm yet gentle expression on as she works on some documents.

She lifts up her head as the little door bell rings for the second time when the door closes behind you.

‘’Oh my’’ She says with a surprised expression ‘’are you new in town?’’

''Is it that obvious?'' you ask bashfully and walk up to the counter

‘’Not at all dear’’ she smiles ‘’its just that this town is quite small so we all know each other, but anyways how may i help you?’’

‘’Right’’ you answer and take out the prescription from your wallet and hand it to her, alongside with your insurance card ‘’i need a refill of my medication’’

‘’Coming right up’’, she takes the card from you, puts it on the table before disappearing in the backroom.

You look around while waiting for her to come back, the inside of the store is just as lovely as the outside. The walls are stacked with various medicine but you notice the same minty color peeking out behind the shelves. The air is very clean, almost biting with the disinfectant still lingering in the air, and for a moment you regret forgetting to take your mouth mask with you. Its not like you're asthmatic but strong smells usually give you a migraine , and using a mask usually helps to dull it down to a slow throbbing.

‘’Here we go’’ The pharmacist says while walking back to the counter, scans your insurance card and furrows her brows as she looks at the computer display.

‘’Is something wrong?’’ you ask. You've paid your insurance bill so there shouldn't be any problem but sometimes the card doesn't function or doesn't get accepted by the pharmacy and you really hope that that isn't the case today.

‘’Oh no no’’ the pharmacist laughs ‘’i just forgot to wear my contact lenses today so i had a bit of trouble reading the display’’

you sigh in relief

‘’But’’ she continues ‘’i just saw that your doctor has written in the data that these medications have to be taken continuously’’ she hands you back your card and the medications. ‘’if they're finished just come back and i will refill them again’’

‘’will do’’ you answer and put the medication into your purse, bid the nurse goodbye and walk out of the store.

The minute you're out of the pharmacy you stop in your tracks. You're not sure if you just imagined that but when you bid her goodbye her smile looked weirdly large for her face and for a second you thought you saw branches ,that looked like antlers ,growing out of her head.

Slowly you turn back and see the pharmacist, typing something on the computer looking normal and you furrow your brows, turn back to the road.

‘’What in the hell’’you mutter and continue walking towards the mall thats quite close to the drug store.

.....

As you're walking past various stores, an unimaginable stench makes it way to you and the urge to vomit is so strong that you slam your hand to your mouth and turn away for a second. The odor is one of a corpse decaying, well you don’t actually know what a corpse smells like but you're pretty sure it would be similar to this.

Turning around you face the way you were talking towards too and frown. On the left side of the building stands in bold red, almost blood like, letters '' Gregs Butchery''

''They weren't wrong about the smell '' you think and hurriedly walk, no  run past the building into the big grocery store thats two stores away from the flower shop and the ''butchery''

The grocery store is just like any other.  Worn out regals stacked against the washed out yellow walls ,while in the background a remix of an eighties city funk song plays.

‘’God that was disgusting’’ you mumble and wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie. You take out your phone and reach over to the stack of baskets thats right next to you, and take one.

looking at the shoppings list you made in the notes app , you subconciously bite your lip and walk further into the store.

...............

You're looking at your phone again, not for notifications or anything, just checking if the items in the basket match the ones on the list. Which they do ,but you have a feeling that you earlier forgot to write down something important that you need but cant remember what it is.

‘’garbage bags?’’ you mumble ‘’no i - ouf-’’ With all the thinking you're doing you aren't even paying attention to your surroundings and walked straight into something, or somebody.

You take a step back and rub your nose thats stinging slightly '' my bad'' and look up. The first thing you see is black, a black thats so dark where if someone shone a flashlight at, whatever is in front of you, the light would not be reflected. It’s almost as if the void has manifested itself somehow in this shop. The second thing you notice is that the being standing in front of you has the thousand upon thousands of branch like looking bones growing out of it , how you even missed something so grotesque looking, is baffling , but then again this is you we're talking about.

The being turns its body around and you see that its face is empty of facial features. Theres not even a slight dent or shadow of a nose or mouth that could indicate that it’s wearing a mask. Slowly the creature tilts is head, almost as if it’s wondering why you approached it, and leaves without a word.

Not like it could say anything without a mouth anyways

You on the other hand have already astral projected into another dimension.This whole interaction is so surreal to you, that for a second for a second you think you're on mtv's candid camera show, and that this whole thing is just a set up.  

You come back to your senses when you feel a hand on your arm and jerk in surprise.

‘’dazed ain’t you?'' the woman next to you chuckles ‘’everyone is when they see they see an angel for the first time’’

‘’Huh?'' you turn your head towards the woman and blink a couple of times  ‘’excuse me , a what now?’’ She’s a plump 5′2 tall woman with amber skin and undercut and a gummy smile that makes her eyes disappear into crescent forms when she laughs. On the other side of her’s shes holding a hand of a roughly ten year old child thats boredly starring into nothingness , probably waiting for her mother to finish so that they can go home.

The fact though, that she called the ominous being an angel is baffling because to you it looks more like something that jumped out of h.p lovecrafts book.

‘’An angel’’ she shakes her head ‘’they're very nice, they always help me with any chores or escort luna home, and despite the fact that theyve lived here forever people still ignore their existence’’

‘’but thats not how angels look?’’ you quietly retort not wanting to seem disrespectful

The  woman chuckles again and pats you on the arm ‘’what you know as angels is what society taught you with no actual evidence of them ever looking like that’’

''But the bible-''

‘’The bible described them as terrifying which they are’’ she points at the angel thats at the counter waiting for the cashier to ring their stuff up, which he isn’t cause when you look closer you see that the magazine the cashier is holding is slightly crumpled and shaking , probably out of fear.

‘’also it has been translated into other languages so many times that by now half of was originally was written is lost in translation’’ she continues

You tilt your head ‘’so basically everything i know is a lie?’’

‘’No no, not everything is just that in this town, the laws of nature and society don’t apply’’

Great, what type of town did you move into. Yesterdays fiasco was already weirder than anything you've experienced and you kinda swept it under the rug. but this? this is something that even a skyscraper cant hide, and obviously the emotions you're feeling  shows on your face because the black woman bursts out laughing.

‘’Im sorry’’ you apologize flustered not wanting to offend her and come off as uptight

‘’No need to apologize’’'' she says and waves her hand ‘’newcomer’s reaction are always funny to watch but you're the first one who didn’t run away’’

''yeah one day that will be the death of me'' you think and smile wryly at her.

‘’I have to go’’ the woman continues ‘’try to greet the angels once in a while ,theyre harmless’’

You give her a tight lipped smile and nod. The woman chuckles for the last time and walks off , towards the angel whose still at the counter apparently waiting for her to come pay since the cashier is still ignoring the being.

You shake your head and sigh again, glance back to the counter for the last time before proceeding with grocery shopping.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

‘’We're so glad to have you in our team’’ the dean says as you're walking down the school hallway. The dean is a elderly short baldheaded man with round glasses. He's wearing a suit thats a little baggy on him but it gives him character. He kind of reminds you of popeye but with a softer , creakier voice.

It took you some time to find the school, since google maps seems to not always work it took which gave you the same problem you had yesterday  when you were looking for the pharmacy. You'd think for such a small town it would be found easily , which it wasn't because it took you around forty minutes to find the facility. Its located on the other side of the town, which in your opinion is just unethical and slightly annoying.

Whoever the founder was of silverdell clearly wasn't thinking logically, it would be way more proficient if the school was in in the middle where it would take the same amount of time for anyone to reach it

‘’I'm excited to be working here’’ you reply and smile down at the dean who just, not chuckles but makes a similar sound to it.

‘’Let me introduce you to the other teachers’’ he says as you two come to stop in front of a dark wooded door and opens it.

The room is pretty normal. Various abstract drawings are hanging on the eggshell white walls giving the place a slightly modern feeling. In the middle of the room theres a long table placed along side with books and other items. On the left side, the side you're actually standing in, is a small kitchen that has a coffee machine and freshly washed cup and glasses.

‘’Oh?’’ a honey voice speaks up and you turn your head to the person you think it came from. ‘’Who do we have here?''

The voice that you just heard belongs to possible one of the most beautiful human beings you have ever seen in your life. He has midnight black hair where one side is falling into his face while the other side is slicked back. Thick plump lips that are stretched into a smile ,revealing a row of pearly white teeth. He's not particularly tall, you're pretty sure you're taller than him but then again you're taller than most women, but you see from the outfit he's wearing he's well build.

Honestly he's so beautiful its like god took his sweet time making him, plus he's sending you a smile thats so bright you want to shield your eyes, it’s like you're looking at the sun.

‘’Didn’t hear that there would be someone new’’ another low voice speaks up and your eyes wander to the person thats standing right next to him. He's a tall man that looks around your age with strawberry blonde dyed hair, thats slightly hanging in his face. He has a strong yet straight nose and thin lips alongside with big doe eyes that makes him look even younger than he already is. You already have the feeling that out of the two, he's the slicker one.

The black haired boy stretches his hand towards you ‘’i’m Park jimin''

You take his hand into yours and for a second you notice how long your fingers are compared to his but thats ought to happen with your height. ‘’Y/n’’ you retort and give him a firm shake before letting his hand go.

‘’Jeon jungkook’’ The strawberry blonde man says not even bothering to shake your hand as he's preoccupied with twirling the volleyball on his finger like a basketball.

Jimin just sighs at Jungkook’s retort, turns around and slaps the ball off ‘’we're not in college anymore where are your manners?’’ he scolds

Seeing Jungkook's expression you hold your laughter in. His lips are pursed but the look in his eyes sell him out that he's planning to pull a prank on the shorter man. Obviously jimin notices the look and slaps him on the arm to which jungkook just grins before turning around to you with an outstretched hand

‘’Again'' he starts ''i’m Jeon Jungkook ''

you nod ‘’nice to meet you’’

''Which class are you teaching?'' Jimin asks and crosses his arms

''1A'' The dean speaks up and you jump in surprised. You didn’t even notice him joining you three with a cup of coffee in his hand. ‘’speaking of’’ he continues and turns towards you'' classes start soon i hope you understood everything but if you have questions don’t be afraid to ask mister Park and mister Jeon.’’

Jimin and Jungkook both smile at you and you nod ‘’will do’’

‘’Alright then’’ Jimin says and yawns ‘’1A is right next to my classroom i'll show you the way’’

‘’Thanks’’ you smile, bid the dean and jungkook goodbye before leaving the breakroom.

‘’Are you nervous?’’ Jimin asks as he's walking next to you down the hallway

''More excited'' you answer ‘’i’m good with kids but i just hope everything goes okay’’

Jimin turns his head ‘’you just moved here right? what do you think of silverdell?’’

carefully you mull over your words, not sure if its appropriate or too soon to tell him about the supernatural beings and weird customs that you've come across. ‘’it will take some time for me to get used to this town’’ you answer him instead.

Jimin laughs, a laugh that sounds like angels are singing and you smile too ‘’well thats to be expected, but don’t worry everyone settles down pretty quick'' He stops in front of a classroom. ''this is 1A, i’m right next door if you need something’’ and bids you goodbye.

The classroom is just like any normal middle school classroom is supposed to look like. Since it’s not the start of a new school year, you see that the decorations on the wall probably were made by the students and you smile.

You walk up to the teachers desk thats right by the window and put your bag down and take your items out. You're so lost in your thoughts as you organize the your items on the table you don’t even hear the bell ring.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall and the chatter of high pitched voices rip you out of your thoughts and you look up to see students walking into the classroom. At the sight of you at the desk they stop in their tracks and whisper to each other.

‘’Good morning’’ you greet them and some greet you back while others just nod in silence as they walk towards their desks. After all the students are sitting at their desk you walk to the blackboard and write your name on it.

‘’'I'm your new teacher’’ you turn around and face the students ‘’i just recently moved here from the city and i have to say i’m surprised in how much greener it is here, meaning we could once go hiking in the forest’’  you clap your hands together

The moment those words leave your mouth the entire classroom gets quiet. The eyes of the kids are almost glued to you in a creepy way, the expressions on their faces are kind of empty.

A chubby boy with black hair raises his hand ‘’ma'am no one ever goes into the forest’’

Oh boy , this is exactly what you feared, that the kids would be just as weird about the town as the adults are. So instead you give them a tight lipped smile ‘’why?’’

‘’Because the monsters will eat you’’ another student says , the tone indicating that you should already know about the taboo.

‘’Or the headless rider’’ the same chubby boy finishes.

This is the third time you're hearing about the headless rider. His existence still makes no sense to you, how can everyone be afraid of him and tell horrible tales on how he kills humans but yet no one has actually ever interacted with the said being.

‘’Marissa did see the headless rider once’’ a girl speaks up and almost every student turns around to look at her with a scornful expression on their face.

''Whose Marissa?'' you ask and tilt your head.

‘’Someone that has turned into a memory’’ the girl from earlier answers, whom you recognize to be the daughter of the woman from the store you met few days ago. Just like her mom she has brown skin, dark hair and intelligent looking eyes, that seem to know way too much than what a ten year old should know.

‘’Alright then’’ you clap your hands together to get the attention of the students ‘’lets play two truths and a tale to break the ice so i'll get to know you better.’’

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

‘’Goodbye ma'am''! the chubby boy, who's name you learned is Evan, says and waves as he leaves the classroom.

‘’Bye!’’ you smile and wave back. The moment the door slams shut your hand instantly falls down and you sigh deeply. ''Well that was a train wreck'' you think and gather the books together and walk over to the regal thats by the wall and put them in neatly. You walk back to your desk pick up your bag not before flickering the light off and walk out of the classroom.

As you're walking down the hallway you see a tiny baldheaded figure that couldn't belong to anyone else but the dean. Who apparently saw you coming because he stops walking and wait for you to catch up to him.

''Y/n'' he greets cheerfully '' how was your first lesson?''

''Good evening'' you greet back '' it was good actually'' you finish. The dean just chuckles and starts walking down the hallway with you following him.

‘’say’’ you start ‘’what happened to Marissa?’’

The dean turns his head to face you, anger mixed with fear clouds his eyes for a second before returning back to normal ''someone thats better not to be spoken of if you don’t want anything happen to you'' he answers.

At the ominous answer the hairs on your neck raise and you resist the urge to take a step back. The way he worded it its like the town will kill anyone who questions their traditions or goes against the rules, plus his whole demeanor screams that you shouldn't ask any more questions.

''A-alright'' you stammer and the dean sends you a tight lipped smile in return.

'' The dean turns around in the doorway he’s standing in ‘’i'll see you tomorrow’’

‘’Have a nice evening’’ you reply and bow slightly. When the door slams shut you sigh and put a hand on your chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat underneath your fingertips. You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and walk down the hallway towards the entrance and out of the facility.

When you're outside you notice that the shun is already starting to set. That isn't surprising considering that its fall and the days are getting shorter but at the same time that means that you'll either have to hurry back home since the sun sets around at five pm. The other option would be you waiting at school till the coast is clear but considering todays conversation you0d like to spend as little time as possible with the dean. Especially since now it seems that he's keeping an eye out on you.

You shake your head and look up at the sky.Azure blue has now turned into spectacular colors of orange and red mixed with purple, its so beautiful that you take out your phone and take a picture of it. Satisfied with how the picture turned out you send it to your mom and put it back into your pocket.

‘’I should buy a bike’’ you mumble and continue to walk home.

..............

''Hey mom'' you greet your mother and wipe your hands on the towl thats hanging at the wall right by the kitchen sink.

‘’Y/nn dear are you alright?’’ your mother asks loudly sounding frantic.

You grimace and hold the phone away from your ear ‘’i am, why did something happen?’’

‘’What do you mean? , you sent me that ominous picture with no text whatsoever nor did you call me ever since you arrived at wherever you are’’ you mom rants

You know your mom has only your best interests at heart, ever since she found out about your anxiety it’s like she herself developed it too with how much she worries about you being alone. Which on one hand is reassuring but on the other you're already twenty eight and kind of need to venture out in the world on your own.

''ominous picture? what are you talking about? i sent you a picture of a sunset'' you retort and furrow your brows

‘’sunset?’’ your mom's voice pitches up a few octaves ‘’all i got was a picture of a black cracked background with the letters '' if you did, you wished you didn't’’

‘’oh go-’’

‘’and where are you?’’ your mom continues ‘’iv’e googled the town name but nothing showed up, i even asked my coworkers and no one knows about silverdell’’

''Silverdell has a mind on its own, no one can know about it or leave and come as they want without its approval''

you grimace, hoping that whatever Sam said was just some good o'l superstition ,but up to now  with everything that you have experienced, it looks like thats not the case

‘’mom seriously i’m safe, i’m not being held hostage by some mobster or anything like that, why it doesn’t show up on google though i don’t know.’’ you say , trying to calm her down. Theres no way you're going to tell her about the towns strangeness , knowing how she is she'd probably get into her car while she's talking to you and drive off, ending up lost in the middle of nowhere.

Your mother hums on the other side of the phone, by the tone of it you know that she's not fully convinced but will believe you for now. She then continues to talk about her annoying coworker, thats always trying to one upper her in everything and how she wants to screw her head off.

While she's rambling off you're finishing drying the dishes and put the back in the cupboard, occasionally humming in agreement to let her know that you're still listening. Reaching over you take the other towel and dry your hands, put it back on the wall before turning towards the living room. You notice that the blinds are still open and a wave of panic comes over you. you dash over to the other room, of course not without you stumbling over furniture, and quickly close the blinds.

Your heart is beating wildly against your ribcage and it takes you a second to calm down.

''Sweetie are you okay?'' your moms voice comes out of the phone that you’re still holding

‘’uhm yeah!’’ you heave ‘’just stumbled, fell almost on my face’’

your mother sighs deeply ‘’you were always the clumsy one’’ and you just chuckle. Though it quickly fades as you start hearing noises coming from the ceiling. your eyes widen and you jerk your head upwards . The dull sound of something similar to heavy footsteps becomes louder and louder and you furrow your brows. ''are they trying to break my roof?'' you ask yourself and hold the phone closer to your ear.

‘’Mom let me call you back, someones knocking no the door’’ you interrupt your mother, hoping that she doesn't hear your voice shaking.

‘’sure’’ she reluctantly answers ‘’'i'll talk to you later, and remember call the police if something fishy is up’’

‘’Will do’’ you say and hang up ‘’ the police might not help in this situation''

You jump when you hear the static of the radio ripping, slowly you turn around and tilt your head sideways. ''Did you just turn on by yourself?'' you ask out loud , but the radio doesn’t answer instead it continues to flip through channels until you hear a familiar voice coming out of the speakers.

''dear listeners we just received a report stating that  the roof inspectors have already begun their work, we would like to remind you to leave a plate of cookies or milk with honey on the porch as a thank you gift. Another reminder would be that you should absolutely not look directly at the workers as they like to be unknown to the public. Not meeting the criteria will have consequences''

''They like to be private?'' the voice you recognize to be yoongi asks '' we're literally broadcasting this to every citizen in silverdell ,how is that private? on top of that they want food'

Hoseok laughs nervously ''lets not trash talk about the roof inspectors ''

''Or what? they're going to break in and kill me?''

''That are dangerous words yoongi'' hoseok chokes out

''Oh don’t give me that look, i’m not planning to have a chat with them all im saying is that its suspicious''  yoongi exclaims

''maybe so but you should know better than to voice out your thoughts considering we're on live broadcast''

You have a sneaking suspicion that that warning is towards you, maybe its just you being paranoid but the sounds coming from the ceiling sound almost impatient? agitated? you're not sure and you don't want to find out.

So you venture back into the kitchen, open the cupboard and take out a plate and a glass. Fill the plate with chocolate chip cookie, not sure if your choice of cookies will fit their taste you reach into the fridge to take out milk. Pour three spoons full of honey into the glass and mix it up all together. You take out a tray, put the dishes onto it and slowly walk to the front door of the house.

Putting down the tray you unlock the door and slowly open it, praying that whatever is making the noise isn't standing in front of your door. Of course mother nature ignores your plea, because nothing ever goes the way you want it to and you stumble back at the sight.

In front of you dangling from the lowest part of the rooftop edge  hangs a long arm that has white fur on it, which lowkey looks like it belongs to a yeti. Its fingers, if you can even call them that, stretch out like its impatiently waiting for you to hand it the tray. With shaky fingers you pick up the tray, avert your eyes and hand it to the worker, trying to not touch it.

It takes the tray from you, makes a sound that could be described as a mixture of a growl and grunt and vanishes.

With wide eyes and a rapid beating heart you close the door and clutch your chest '' what the absolute fuck?!'' you whisper and run to the kitchen.

There you grab the salt and a chair before returning to the front door,  sprinkle salt along at the gap and barricade it by putting the back of the chair underneath the doorknob. Sure the inspector might be able to kill you and you doubt that a little bit of barricade will hold it back but it sure as hell makes your anxious self feel safer.

Quietly you walk down the hallway and switch off the light, before walking into your bedroom and locking the door, hoping that tonight you'll at least be able to sleep.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

‘’Jimin’’ you call out .

Jimin who's sitting at the table reading a book ,that looks like if you tried reading it it would fry the remaining braincells you have, looks up with raised eyebrows. ‘’yes?’’

‘’So’’ you drawl out ‘’i sent a picture of the sunset to someone and apparently the picture they got was different from what the original one, do you know whats up with that?’’

Jimin leans back in the chair and runs a hand through his hair ‘’ honestly we've been having this problem for a few months now, the after school science club is trying to figure out what the problem is.’’

You raise your eyebrows ‘’the who?’’

Jimin waves his hand dismissively '' thats their name don’t ask me how they got it, but they’re really smart though and have saved silverdell many times when we were in a pinch’’'

‘’well did they find out at least something?’’

‘’not really’’ jimin puts a hand on his chin ‘’we just know that silverdell is putting out some sort of high frequented waves that interferes with the phone, theres a theory that it doesn’t want people outside of silverdell knowing about it.’’

The expression on your face currently can be described as one of pure listlessness. Mentally you already clocked out days ago, but mother nature or as in this case; silverdell has it's way of surprising you. Sighing deeply you put one hand on the table and lean against it

‘’you know’’ you start’’ when i first moved here i was in love with the idea of a small town where the environment is beautiful, the people are nice'' you move your arm in a half circle motion ‘’not this’’

‘’How is that our problem’’ a voice says and you turn around to see jungkook leaning against the door frame.

‘’Jungkook!'' jimin scolds and frowns

‘’What?'' jungkook asks and pushes himself away from the door '' isn't that her fault for having high ass expectations? weren't you suspicious that you couldn't find silverdell?’’

‘’In my defense’’ you bristle  ‘’i just thought i was bad with directions ,who would've thought that its because this town is located in the twilight zone’’

Jimin and jungkook both chuckle at that ‘’hats what a lot of newcomers say’’

Picking up the empty cup of coffee you retort '' well maybe something needs to be changed so we don’t all keep repeating the same thing'' and walk over to the sink.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Its been over a month since you've moved to silverdell. You somehow got used to the weird customs of the town and nowadays you're not even fazed by the angel's anymore. on the contrary you sometimes let the angel's carry your grocery home or you when they don’t fit on the basket of the bike. In the beginning you were quite shocked and afraid ,when the ominous being stood in front of you and reached out of the bag. Which resulted in you screaming out loud in horror thinking that you're going to die. It took one staff member to calm you down , which took quite some time because apparently the angel didn’t realize that you were scared of it , and kept starring at you as if you had the answer to the Da Vinci code.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

‘’I forgot to tell you , you did well today’’ The woman, miss lewis, whose standing at the door says smiling brightly and leaves.

Todays parent teacher conference day and you just had your first meeting. You're so glad that instead of a soccer mom who has a blonde bob and a nasty attitude you got miss lewis. Maybe she noticed that you were nervous otherwise because her whole presence was reassuring. From the smile to her body language nothing indicated that she was being hostile and you look forward to working with her in the future.

Gathering the documents on the table you put them aside and take out another one that has all the information about your student named calypso. Calypso is a smart girl with a peppy attitude and a mouth that can talk forever, yet she never disturbed the class and always hands in her homework so this meeting should be short and go well.

As you're standing up from the chair, the door slams open and you jerk in surprise, letting out an embarrassing squeak. Looking over to the door your’e see a tall woman slumped against the doorway as she's clutching her chest and breathing heavily. The woman is dressed in a black suit and the first button of her white dress shirt is open. Her black hair is cut into a blunt bob with bangs that stop right by the eyes.

‘’I hope i’m not late’’ she heaves

You shake your head and smile ‘’ don’t worry you came just in time''

The unknown woman nods and walks towards you and you notice that she's almost as tall as you are. ''Min yoonji i’m luna’s mother, nice to meet you’’

‘’Y/n’’ you say and take her hand into yours ‘’ and likewise’’

‘’My wife had an emergency so i had to run from work here’’ Yoonji says and sits down

You put a hand on your cheek ‘’i hope its nothing serious’’

Yoonji waves her hand in front of her face ‘’she's just clumsy , i hope she doesn’t’ burn down the kitchen again though’’

You hold your laughter in and turn your head away, not knowing if it’s appropriate to laugh or not but the fact that Yoonji said the word ‘’ again’’ makes it even more comical.

When you hear Yoonji chuckle is when you turn your head back towards her and see her smiling faintly and you can see how much she loves her wife.

‘’So lets get started’’ you say and clear your throat ‘’luna is a very smart student who up to now has always done her homework’’

Yoonji nods

‘’She participates in class , i see no behavioral problems besides her sometimes making remarks towards her friends.’’ you smile and so does Yoonji ‘’what i did notice though is that when it comes to math her way of calculating slightly differs from what i teach her but that can be managed’’

you put the notes down ‘’this would be all, do you have any questions?’’

Yoonji claps her hand together ‘’not a question per se but my wife and i would like to be notified if the class is going on a school trip’’

You nod '' thats mandatory otherwise i wouldn’t be allowed to leave the school ground with the students''

Yoonji then picks up her bag and stands up with you following her actions.

‘’if later on you have any question please feel free to call me or mail me’’ you say and stretch out your hand

Yoonji shakes your hand firmly nods. She opens her mouth to say something but the noise of the classroom door slamming against the wall interrupts her. In the doorway stands a woman that looks ,well to put it nice, like the wicked witch of the west's third sister.

oh boy

‘’Hope you have a nice evening’’ Yoonji says through gritted teeth and lets go of your hand before walking towards the door and giving the other woman a nasty glare.

The woman totally ignores yoonji and walks towards you instead, a scowl on her face as she musters you ‘’cant be even on time huh? did they hire a incompetent teacher this time?’’

You raise your eyebrows, it takes everything in your body for you to not glare at this atrocity of a human being in front of you ‘’actually ma'am you're just early theres a reason why we agreed for you to come at a specific time’’

She just huffs '' well i don’t have the time because i have to pick up Charles in twenty minutes from fencing’’

''why don’t we start then'' you say and point at the table, before sitting down

well looks like it will take longer than twenty minutes.''

..............

After the conference is over you collect the documents and put them on in the drawer. Getting up you look out of the window and see that the sun is already setting and a wave of stress overcomes you. Picking up your bag from the floor you speed walk out of the classroom, not before flickering the light off, and almost run down the hallway towards the entrance of the building.

Thankfully the parking lot for the bikes isn't that far away from the main entrance and you quickly get  onto it and pedal. The sky is already deep red and you can see that in around five to ten minutes it will be completely gone.

You're pedaling so fast that everything is a blur to you, how you haven’t fallen yet is a miracle because lord knows , that everything that could go wrong in a situation , usually does, when it comes to you.

''am i going to make it?'' you ask yourself and sharply cut the corner. Down the road you see a vast grass field and wonder if you should take a shortcut or not. But driving on the grass usually slows one down .but at the same time you cant afford to lose your life just because you aren't on time.

So you drive through the field instead. It only takes a few seconds before your legs become tired of pedaling so hard, to the point where you jump from the bike , hold the handlebar and run.  A few times the bike smacks itself against you but you don’t feel pain due to the adrenaline running through your veins.

Looking at the bike you see that it’s just dragging you down and it literally takes you a second to make a decision. Letting go of the bike makes your heart clench but you continue to run for you life till you finally leave the field and arrive on the street your house is on.

You heave as you take a three second break before continuing to jog down the road. The closer you get to your house though the more everything starts to flicker. Its like reality stopped functioning and your’e in a glitch. Looking around confused you almost stop in your tracks when you see a figure sitting on a black horse thats standing on the opposite side of the street, linear to your house. Its the Headless rider, his body turns towards you ,as black smoke comes out of the cut off neck and forms a question mark.

Your heart drops and your hand comes up shielding the left side of your face and you run even faster before jumping over the fence towards your house

With shaky hands you take out the keys from your purse and open the door before slamming it behind you. Sliding down to the floor you hug your knees as a wave of panic over comes you. You're about 99.9999.2% sure you're about to die today. Theres no way you're going to survive now that the headless rider has noticed you.

With shaky legs you walk into your bedroom and lock the door, praying to every god thats out there that they will bless you with divine protection and that if you do die , it will be at least painful.

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

its been two days since you saw the headless rider. To your surprise you actually woke up the next day and on top of that without any injuries, even your house is unscathed! Yet for some reason you cant help but feel like someone has been following you ever since. Its like you keep seeing something flimsy out of the corner of your eye, but its never really in your field of vision.

''im just being paranoid'' you think and grip the bag tighter as you walk out of the grocery store. It’s almost midnight but you were craving some sweets and ramen noodles so of course you went out and bought them.

You're so lost in thoughts that you don’t even notice the tall figure standing in front of you and promptly walk into them. The person, if you can even call them that cause the body is so hard it feels like you walked into a wall, grips your shoulder and steadies you.

'’You rub your nose ''thank-’’ the words die on your tongue as you look up and see that its the headless rider. Now that your’e closer to him you see that his skin is glowing slightly green giving him a frankensteins monster type of look and that his hands are long yet bony.  The smoke moves in slow motion as it comes out of his head and you feel sick to the point of needing to vomit.

‘’Have you seen my head?’’  an ominous voice booms through your skull so loud that you push the headless rider away and clutch your head instead, You just know you'll have a migraine later on.

you look up ‘’can you please try to not scream in my head?’’

''My apologies '' the being says

Slowly you stand up and rub your temples ‘’i haven’t seen your head, i wouldn’t even know how it looks like’’ you turn around and with shaky legs take a step before an arm grabs you. The feeling of dread overcomes you instantly.  His hand is so cold that it seeps through your jacket into your body and you shudder. ''is this what harry potter felt when he was around dementors?''

''Help me find it''  he says , no, demands.

‘’please stop touching me first’’ you manage to say without stuttering and he releases your arm.

‘’What would happen if i refuse?’’

''You don’t want to know'' he answers and you shudder. with the way his neck is leaning sideways you can almost see how if he had a head he'd be cocking it and waiting for your reply, what expression he would have on you can say though.

Between choosing to go with him and come back unscathed or being hunt down and killed by him and other creatures, its only logical that you chose to go with him.

‘’Alright'’’ you say and hold up the bag higher ‘’can i bring this home first though?’’

The headless rider points at the convenient store ''you can also just ask them to put it aside for you''

You furrow your eyebrows at that suggestion ‘’sure..’’ and squint at him. For someone so inhuman he sure does have a suspicious amount of knowledge of how humans work. ‘’ill be right back’’  and walk off

The little bell rings as you walk through the doors and the cashier raises her head ‘’good-’’ the word dies on her tongue as she she's you walking towards her. Her face completely pales and her eyes grow as big as saucers.

00would you be so nice and deposit this for me? an emergency came up and i cant go home right now’’ you ask with a wry smile and she nods . With shaky hand she takes the bag and puts it right behind her on the counter and gives you something thats supposed to look like a smile if it weren't masked with fear.

‘’thank you'' you say , turn around and walk out of the store. What you don’t see is the cashier's eyes following you until she sees you stopping in front of someone else and showing them your empty hands. The other figure nods and you both walk off . In panic mode she grabs the telephone and frantically dials a number, cussing under her breath as she’s waiting for the person to pick up. after the fifth ring she finally hears a click going through the phone and she speaks up

‘’He has her’’

⤑ ⤑ ⤑ ⤑

Standing on the outskirts of the forest you look at the direction where the houses are located ‘’am i hearing sirens?’’ you ask out loud. From what you can see theres no where a house burning, so that either means someone is dying or that there is someone about to give birth

''Not important for us'' the headless rider says and puts a hand on the small of your back. ''let's go'' he says and pushes you forward into the woods.

The forbidden forest is nothing like you imagined, as a matter of fact you don’t even know what you expected but not this.The trees are so close to each other that you can only see the occasional streak of moonlight peaking through through the thick fog. Yet that doesn’t provide enough light for your eyes because you stumble over a root thats twisting on the floor.

Before your face can make contact with so said floor ,the headless rider grabs you by the arm and yanks you up.

''be careful '' he says '' shedding blood will only cause the creatures to come after you''

‘’jesus christ thanks’’ you retort and peel off his fingers ‘’by the way do you have a name? i dont want to keep calling you ''you''’’

the voice hums in your head '' a long time ago i did'' he answers '' a human once used to call me taehyung''

‘’Okay i'll call you that then’’ you say and look up to him ‘’another question though , were you once a human?’’

A deep sound that can be described as a chuckle rumbles from his chest ''never , i’ve been like this since the beginning ''

‘’ou yikes’’  you slap a hand to your mouth , you cant believe you just said that out loud ‘’sorry’’

''it's alright''

You nod and turn around to continue to look at the environment. Theres a dampness alongside with this weird feeling hanging in the air, it ripples on your skin like water making, all the hairs on your arm and neck stand up. This place might have once been full of animals roaming around, but right now its so eerie and empty ,you feel like if depression could manifest itself into something it would be this forest.

You grab Taehyung by the arm and you both stop. looking up, your eyes widen and blood leaves your face. Above you hovering are hooded figures with long boney limps. Their garment fluttering in the non existent wind yet they look so serene , almost as if they're taking a nap. But the longer you stare the more the figures seems to draw in closer

''don’t look at them'' Taehyung's voice rings through your head '' they feed on human souls and with each second passing a piece of your soul gets chipped away''

''Couldn’t you have told me that sooner''  you hiss and grip his arm tighter to the point that your finger nails leave half moon dents in his jacket.

''do not talk any louder, we're not the only ones here'' he warns you instead and you shut your mouth. With every step you're taking you're cursing at the gods and mostly at yourself. You can already hear your mother screaming in horror if she knew what you're doing. She'd probably lecture you about going with a stranger to the forest saying that that is the number one place for murderers to bury their victims bodies and how she raised you to know better.

''Sorry mom''

Taehyung pushes the leaves of the bush aside to reveal a glade. Its surrounded by trees as tall as cathedrals and a strange green light - almost holy - shimmers through the vast canopy of leaves.Giving you the impression that you're underwater. Deafening silence lays over the land and you feel like you're in a video game about to defeat a mid level demon boss.

''where are we going?'' you whisper to taehyung

''the place where all creatures go at sunset''

you furrow your brow ‘’and why do you need me for that?''

thats where my head is buried at for some unknown reason they’ve always been drawn to it, though it has a protective shield that nonhuman being cant enter''

your voice raises a few octaves as you realize that this is a part of his scheme  ‘’did you just lure me into this place so that you can kill me? Don’t tell me you don't actually need my help, you just wanted to eat me because i look what; appetizing to you?’’

Taehyung lifts his hands and one covers your mouth while the other slam chokes you against the bark of a tree ‘’you think very highly of yourself human'' he hisses '' but i do need it and after i received my head i could also leave you here ,since your so adamant about making our location known to every single living organism''

A branch breaks in the background and Taehyung lets go of you.  choking ,you slump against the tree, as you try to get air into your lungs and look up through your teary eyes. Behind taehyung stands a huge creature that looks similar to the angels that usually help you with chores. But unlike the friendly them, this creature looks like it's out for blood. Its mouth opens and a foul smell , that reminds you of corpses and rotting food, waves over to the two of you and you feel sick.

A scream bubbles its way up your throat and before it can leave your mouth , taehyung picks you up bridal style and starts running. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you close your eyes and just hope that he's faster than the creature and that you aren't about to meet your demise

Minutes later he stops and you open your eyes to see that you're on  the top of a hill. Getting out of taehyung's arms with shaky legs you look around.

‘’Wow’’ you say in awe, amazed by how much the forest changes the further you go into it.

You see a river passing through the jungle wide and opaque. The water is so black it might as well be used as a mirror and for a second you're tempted to walk down and touch it .Yet you know better. The river is a sleeping cobra, It lies across the land in smooth seductive curves, singing an unknown song to its viewer, while it hides a myriad of dangers.

The forest seems to have an intelligence of its own, you notice.  An apparent system thats so complex no human would understand, yet it doesn't seem like it would work anywhere else but  here.

A sudden shrill noise, that possibly belongs to the earlier creature, echoes through the forest,  before it quietly settles, and suddenly it feels like a thousand eyes are boring into your back.

They know you're here

''Lets go'' Taehyung says and walks ,no, jogs down the hill.

‘’why don’t you just pick me up and run like you did earlier?'' you ask '' that would be faster''

Taehyung doesn’t need a face for you to know that he's complete done with you for using your three braincells over its capacity ''that would attract too much attention''

‘’You glow green for fucks sake’’ you call out and point at him ‘’we might as well be wearing a big ass sign that says ‘free food’’ 

Taehyung turns around and stomps towards you and you flinch

''Since you insist''  he says and picks you up and starts running down the hill. Seconds later you two arrive in the valley and he puts you down. ''We're close''  

You look up at Taehyung, his whole entire being suddenly gives off the vibe of a predator. Like he's watching your every move and waiting for the perfect chance to come so that he can pounce on you . Goosebumps rise on your arm and neck and you take a step back ''where is it then?'' you ask

Taehyung stretches his arm and points with a long bony finger behind you. Slowly you turn around to see huge fallen logs layered on top of each other forming a triangular shape. Underneath you find a huge pile of fallen leaves and in the middle something thats glowing green.

''I can only accompany you till where the shield is'' Taehyung says and you nod. You don’t like how he said that sentence, its full of hidden agenda and you're not sure if your mind is playing a trick on you , but you swear you felt the blood thirst coming off him. Another thing you notice is the closer you get to the head, the more the shield surrounding the huge logs, starts to glow the exact same green light that also taehyung is covered in.

As you stand right before the shield , your hand comes up and you try to touch it with no avail. Your hand goes straight right through it and your’e just a teensy bit disappointed. ''hold up''  you think and turn around to squint at the being named taehyung ‘’the shield doesn’t exist’’

''it does, i told you only a human can enter it'' taehyung answers patiently and walks up to you, stretches out his hand and touches the shield. sparks start to fly and you cover your eyes.  

''see?'' Taehyung says and lets his hand fall down

Instead of answering you start walking up to the log. Its in the worst place ever, not exactly on top of the hill but neither in the valley, just right in the middle. Which is a huge burden to you, the mud keeps sticking to your shoes yet it also makes you stumble multiple times.

You finally reach your destination but now you're heaving heavily and your legs feel like they'll buckle in any seconds. ''God do i have to touch the leaves?'' you murmur in disgust. You dont hate the nature as a matter of fact you like it, thats the whole reason why you even moved out here. That doesn’t mean though, that you want to stick your hands into muddy leaves that probably has all sorts of insects crawling and pick up a decaying head.

Mentally prepping yourself you sigh deeply before reaching into the pile and grabbing the glowing head. The head is just as cold as the body it belongs you and it seeps through your entire being. The longer you hold it, the more flimsy your surrounding begins to look and you have to squint your eyes in concentration so that you don’t fall down.

‘’Here’’ you say as you stand in front of taehyung and hand him the head.

''thank you''  he says and takes it from you and puts it on his neck. Suddenly taehyung starts to glows a green light thats so bright ,that you have to shield your eyes. Few seconds later the light dims down back its usual , glow int he dark slime, state.Despite that you're in awe when you look up and see that the neck is connected to his head, and for the first time you see what he looks like.

Taehyung is beautiful beyond words. Long dark lashes kiss his cheek as he looks down on you.  On the right side theres a mole and he has another one, on the slightly plum yet longish underlip.  dark hair that hangs low enough to touch his beautiful sloped nose as he dips his head lower to be at  your eye height. A smile overtakes overtakes his features and at first you're struck, until you start noticing thousand of eyes starting to glow behind his back. Your eyes widen and you look back at Taehyung who's smile grows into unnatural hideous grin that touches both sides of the head and bears one too many teeth.

you take a step back to which he slowly follows until you stumble over a root and fall down. Taehyung chuckles deeply at your cowering state and bends down.

This is it, this is how you’re going to die, in the forrest surrounded by blood thirsty creatures that are ready to pounce on you in any second. And for a millisecond you’re annoyed at yourself for going into the woods with the dullahan just to meet your demise. 

A growl rips you back into reality ‘’'what a foolish human you are Y/n'’ he says and your vision goes black

[hourglasscinnarose]

Character Overanalysis: TMNT 2012 MBTI [Donnie]

E vs. I: Although I love hopping on the "I have a different opinion than all of you" train, I have to stick with what everyone else is saying. Donnie is an Introvert. Like Leo, we know that Donnie is alone the majority of the time because he's always working on the things that he and his brothers use through out the show. It takes a lot of time to create stuff, trust me, and it's not like any of the others are going to be hanging around just to watch him create stuff. Heck, when we see him with the things he has created, he's explaining his creation, so we know that the others had no idea what he was working on.  I'm sure that there's another way to point out that he's an Introvert, but this is the most obvious way to do so, so I'm sticking with it. S vs. N: I found that Donnie is pretty level with these. He acts like a Sensor most of the time, but in reality, I believe that he's actually an iNtuitive. While Donnie does focus on the facts and details, that's about all that he does that is related to Sensing. INtuitive are the pattern seekers, the ones who plan ahead using what others are repetitively doing. When it comes to solving problems, he chooses to use what he's created rather than do the most practical thing. Think of all the times Raph broke down a door Donnie was trying to hack into. (I know you can't hack doors, shush.) Although Donnie isn't one to see the bigger picture (he focuses on smaller details, which is often why it takes him a moment to figure everything out) he is one to see the different possibilities of an outcome. T vs. F: I am very lost as to what Donnie actually is. While he does go by logical analysis, his inventions always circle around how others can benefit from them. Although he has a strong moral code of personal values, he will first weigh the pros and cons of a situation before thinking about how he and others are affected. Or, maybe he bases the pros and cons on how others are effected? Lets just say that this is really close and can go either way. But since I can see him being Feeling a bit more than being Thinking, then I'll place him under F. (Of course it’s rather obvious when it comes to April that he’s lead more by the heart than by the head.) J vs. P: While everyone want's to put him as a Perceiver (Because "Inventor".), Donnie is a little dork-nerd who needs a plan in order to even think about taking action. Donnie seems to have a need for rules and strategy - a need for being organized. Perceivers are spontaneous and flexible, bending the rules because they want to get creative with how it ends. While Donnie is creative, he's not in the sense that he's willing to do something crazy on a whim because it might work. To him, his plans have to be perfect and absolute. This is the big difference between Leo's strategies and Donnie's. Even though they do share the same letter, Leo understands that sometimes things do need to be flexible in order for something to work because all people are different. But for Donnie, it's like he's writing a script that needs to be followed. Short Answer: INFJ (Although very close to INTJ.)

This makes him an NiFeTiSe. www.typeinmind.com/nife/ Ni -> " Ni tends to store information in a spread out way with all the pieces of data having connections of various strengths to multiple additional pieces of data. This creates a dense web-like mass of information that is too large to be viewed in detail as a whole, but can be zoomed in on to show intricate clusters and threads of thoughts." Given that Donnie is an inventor, I can see how this can be his mind set. Also, the little board thing with the whole “If April is doing this, I should do this, and then do this” Fe -> This one didn't give me much, actually. Just, kind of, " This function serves Ni and is primarily focused on other people.". Which, I mean, given that he creates things to help his brothers and is constantly looking out for April, even when it’s creepy, it does fit him pretty well. Ti -> " Ti makes decisions based on logic and operates internally. Ti helps to stabilize the shifty nature of Ni and helps the NiFe to interpret their Ni connections in a sensible way." You know, because being an analytical person that's strongly connected to Feeling rather than Thinking can be confusing and unbalanced. Se ->  " Se is the NiFe’s last and least developed function. This function is what perceives the outer world as stable, concrete, and structured. It’s also the function that helps an NiFe to be aware of their surroundings, appreciate beauty, be fully present in the moment, and feel connected to the physical world." I don't know about you, but I think that sums up Donnie pretty well. If we look at how he acts and talks about the things that he likes (science and random trivia) we can see how this fits in. That's what he finds beautiful in this world. This is how he's able to connect to people like April, despite being cut off from any human interaction before meeting her. Like with Leo's there's even more about this on the site, and I think it's pretty interesting and only helps prove my points even more.

[shitmygaywifesays]

your wife is a writer!! do you think she'd have any writing tips for a young aspiring author who's only recently started planning for an original book?

This is the Gay Wifeanswering herself!

 Some disclaimers:

1.This turned into amonster, I am so sorry. I apparently had a lot to say on the matter.

2. I assume you readthe blog and don’t have a huge problem with cuss words. I normally wouldn’t dothis to a stranger online, so…

3. I am so fuckingpretentious. Lord. I added a bunch of links to things that have caused me topause and think about writing, and some of them are just??? I am so sorry,please don’t judge me too harshly.

Thank you so much for this ask! I was surprised,admittingly, that you’d ask for my writing tips despite the fact that I haven’tpublished anything online for you to read. But I am glad you did! My wife (theblog owner) is so very kind and supportive of me. Maybe a bit too much? Shetalked me up quite a lot in her answer to that ask. Because I don’t think I amall that special. Nor do I think myself and the spaceman living and my head area wellspring of great ideas, BUT HERE GOES. [Note from the blog owner: I neverexaggerate baby’s talents 😉]

I have hadthoughts on writing advice blogs/posts in the past, as in, they aren’talways useful.  K J Charles, an author Ireally like, recentlymade a post about writing advice that is really worth a read if you wouldlike to seek out advice in the future.

That’s not to say I am not totally willing and excited toanswer you! This might just be a weird tip list, that’s all, because all ‘tiplists’ are biased to one writer’s processes. My ideas on writing might not workfor you, may be disastrous, or may be where you set your flagstones. I’ll trymy best to communicate what I think will help. But with that, take it with agrain of salt.

Writing a story, byits nature alone, is a product of desperate translation of something that isintangible; emotions, moments,places one has never been, experiences one’s never had. A story becomesgood when the translation of ideas switches from the surreal to the profoundlyrelatable. That might be something to keep in mind as you write; that youaren’t telling a story, you’re translatingthis idea in your mind and heart into words – into language, into a story,into a pathway to follow, into this brand new experience that will sit with areader for long time after they finish the story.

The writing process is labyrinthine and elaborate andintricate. I’m going to list a couple of things that have helped me, specifically what I did when I wasfeeling uninspired or frustrated with what I was writing. Again, these workedfor me, so if they don’t for you, don’t use them. Try something else! Explore!Innovate! Grow! And allow yourself mistakes!

I constantly think about classic writers and how theydiffer. I’m kind of a nerd for quotes and delight in spending hours pouringmyself over them. And writersso vastlydiffer fromeach otherwhen it comesto how they approachedtheir craft (I think about that last one a lot because it directlycontradicts every ‘writingadvice’ blog post I’ve ever seen). You’ll have to do that, too, or riskbeing drowned out by the static of how you think you should be writing. You should neverlet your unique way of writing be chained down by all that bullshit out there.

 Plotting/Outlining/and the dirty work—

I try to do NanoWriMoevery year and fucking hate it to shards and jagged pieces. If there was oneoverwhelming thing I have learned, it is that I need an outline to function. Thiscame as quite the surprise to me personally because I am such a messy bitch. Butdear merciful Lord in heaven, if I don’t have an outline I can’t move forward.So I embraced that and outlined my scenes like a motherfucker on a lone motorcycle, reaching for that burning redsunset, running from my sordid past, man!Here is just three notebooks from the last year’s NaNo:

Now that is three notebooks, not including the forth one Ialso filled up. One of them is initial notes; themes I had in mind, characteroutlines, a summary of the plot – basic stuff. I also wrote out some rules.This was a supernatural/horror/comedy, all three of those genres I have nopractice in. So I wrote out tropes that I wanted to avoid, points that I wantedto greatly impress, character traits I had etched in stone (for instance,“Edwidge will stay a kind person.”)

Then I dive into outlining by chapter with a rough first go,then another notebook where I re-wrote that outline, then a forth with fleshed-outdialogue exchanges, character movements (both in detail, such as the hands, theeyes) and within the constructed space (sits on a desk, leans against a wall,observes the pictures on the wall), and with random details I decided whileoutlining. In that same vain, the nightmarish scribbles off to the side of thenotebook pages are products of an idea striking me and the muses directing myhand. Muses have horrible handwriting.

Now I know there are people out there in the great greenworld who can write with vague outlines, or no outlines at all (I’m looking atyou, @onedamnminuteadmiral, you wicked ho). And those people are witches andheathens that must meet with the pyre. I’ll bring the gasoline if you bring thematches. [Note from the blog owner: Heeeyyyyyyyy!]

I probably shouldn’t admit to it, but I would often getreally frustrated with outlining and resort to stick figure storyboards. Yes,like I’m a writer for derivative cartoon about a wacky suburban family. My stick figure storyboard was surprisinglyeffective (???I guess???). I got a sense of space, of movement, I made notesabout the way the eyes moved. This, coupled with the far more wordy outline,added a lot of hot sauce to that beef.

I also saw this methodof storyboarding today and I am thinking I might take it up. It looksfantastic!

So, yes, either outline or don’t. I really worked for me,but it might come more natural for you to fly by the seat of your pants. Ifthere is one thing I would do, it would be to make notes on how the charactersmove within the space. Specifically, placement of hands, how their eyes move,the lighting, anything that gives the characters a solid weight in their world.

SPEAKING OF

A slice of characters—

Human nature, by the definitions divined by humankinditself, is fucking absurd. A personleft unobserved will always devolve into subtle rule-breaking based purely andthe common, everydayswerves their free will dictates (ie. I never wear lipstick, but thismorning I was feeling kicky by no outside influences what-so-ever, so, fireengine red?). There is more glorious spark and untold, unfolding of brilliancein a real person sitting quietly in a chair for a half and hour than there willever be in a fully-realized, well-rounded, fictional character. That might be aharsh statement, but it is something I constantly have buzzing in my bonnetwhen I write characters. It causes me to strive for something more from my characters.

I bring up that (jfc am I pretentious) philosophy videoabout fate/free will because in writing characters, you’ll constantly have tothink if your characters are acting as youbelieve they will, or how they would more naturally behave.

People are series of moments with great contradictions.Characters who are well developed, compounded and complex, and interesting toread, should also be weighed at the center in how they contradict themselves. I find this to be a really important standard in writing characters. This is so damnhard to explain, so let me give some silly examples.

Characters tend to have traits/characteristics/personalityrules cemented by the author. I see it constantly in books, and it reallysteams my vegetables. For example:

 Valen was raised in a polite society—he is a politeand considerate man – he will act politely as a matter of keeping thecharacter consistent.

Valen was raised to be strong — he would be calm in thissituation— he would not be afraid at the climax of the book.

It’s… not a wrong way of writing character. Constancy iscertainly important. Its just flat? ‘Uninteresting’ may be a bit too much.Writing a character as a series of set rules can be this transitive, it justfeels manufactured, distant from reality.

For example, consider at how I act:

Gay wife spent her formative years in the South —she was trained to be a polite person, professionally— she calls hercustomers Mr. Meyers and Ms. Linda and her boss solely as Ms. Jeanne—she workshard to be a polite person – she always uses ‘pardon me’ and ‘excuse me’. Thatis honestly who I am.

BUT ALSO

Gay Wife had a weird home life growing up—she had a rocky,religious upbringing— this manifests in reallyvulgar humor at home— shecalls her wife whore-tits and expressesreligious terror to her cats. This is also honestly who I am.

Am I vulgar person? Am I cautious and polite? Thosecontradict each other, and they are both true about me! I try to be as politeas possible, but at home where I am comfortable and unobserved (other than bymy wife, who is now stuck with me so whatever), I turn into a total asshole.

When I read a love story, for example, I get concerned whena character stays exactly the same as when they started out. I’m notspecifically talking about character growth, per say, but in the way the carrythemselves, in the way they behave. I read one fantastic book where a characterspoke differently with the other servants than he did to the lord of the house,even after they started a relationship together. As you proceed to write yourcharacters, I would recommend thinking about how differently people behavedepending on their current situation, and contradict the rules you have set forthe character. Everyone act different around their grandma than they do aroundtheir high school friends. Both those situations, the person is stillthemselves, just affected by compulsions lent to them by the situation.

So consider writing a character that is both compassionateand open-minded, but is also bigoted towards someone/something. It tells thereader where that compassion ends, the lines that character draws. Or acharacter that is brave, but only because he is a coward (that is one of myfavorites.) A character that is a brilliant genius, but a fuckin’ idiot. I’vepersonally known plenty of real people I would describe as genius fuckin’idiots.

Please consider how funny, upbeat people are so fucking sad inside. Or rather, theytend to be. Within two weeks of knowing the funniest person I’ve ever met, Iwas asking him if he was okay. And he was fuckin’ not, and I knew to askbecause despite this blog making people laugh (of which I am proud), I’ve haddepression since I was a child and have struggled with it to the extreme(aside: if anyone needs to talk, feel free to message me @thewaltzrio). I’veborrowed that so many times when writing. [Triggerwarning on this link, but it is worthreading.]

You play your cards right, you’ll also be subverting tropesleft and right.

Compound contradictions, add in swerves of free will, mix ina pinch of chaos caused by fate (that you have set for them), and you’ve got ainteresting, more real and weighty character on your hands. People will relateto that. The best compliment I’ve ever received was, “Hadrian [one of mycharacters] has really stuck with me.” That meant a lot to me, more thananything I’ve heard about the story or the setting or the world building I’vedone for the story.

The second best thing I’ve heard is when I let someone readwhat I have written, and the first question I ask is “which was your favoritecharacter?”. I’ve done it dozens of times with the same work and I’ve gotten adifferent answer every single time.If you do the same, you will know you’ve got a good cast of characters on yourhands.

It is only my personal opinion that characters are worthmore than the story itself. You connect with characters, you believe in them,you root for them, you love them with an unhealthy dependency. Look aroundevery fandom — it is characters that draw people into a show, make them stickwith it, make them care about the 2nd season getting greenlighted.The plot is a series of situations done tothe characters. It happens to them.The interest in the story is cultivated from the perspective of a character andhow they react.

Which brings me to thedetails. Fuck yeah DETAILS.

Write details when it comes to character creation beyondhair color, zodiac signs, or height and weight. Now, you’re on tumblr andwithout a doubt a smart and well informed person, so I don’t need to go intothe importance of a diverse cast of characters. So here are some of my favoriteways of meshing the character into the world, and making them seem more like people.

I like mentioning the condition of their fingernails. Youmight find something else that works for you, but I like fingernails. I mademention that my main character has “acres of real-estate under his fingernails.”Now that is a handful of words that tells the reader that: He works hard, hedoesn’t have time to clean them, he isn’t vain, he doesn’t consider clean nailssomething worth his time worrying about. Everyone in his community probablycarries the same kind of dirt and grime around with them.

I adore using verbal ticks as markers of a character’spersonality. I probably go overboard with this; I go out of my way to add atick to each character. My character Hadrian ended up saying ‘in any matter’ toswitch topics. He is the only one who says that, and it’s a nice verbal tick. Mycharacter Raif is trying to be seen as a poor tradesmen, so he uses impropergrammar when speaking on the daily, and (in exposing his true background) uses expressly proper grammar when in a stressfulsituation. If a reader picked up on that tick, then they would feel so damnclever when Raif is exposed as the lost prince! That is satisfying payoff!

My favorite one I’ve written so far is Seymour, a 15-year-oldwho was raised mostly in isolation, without a real home or community to callhis own. So he parrots other people, he borrows from his friends and those headmires. It tells a reader than he lacks a sense of self, of place, of how tointeract with people. I never actuallysay he does this, but he constantly repeats phrases he hears from hisfriend Raif. And, by the end of the book, he is also saying ‘in any matter’ toswitch topics. It is a satisfying way of showing how Seymour interacts withother characters.

Mentioning the condition of a character’s clothing is sobaseline it might as well be chapter one, line one, in the guidebook of how towrite characters. But you can really have fun with this one. For example, Imade of point of introducing my main characters in very particular ways. WhenDouglas meets Hadrian, they are at a costume party. Douglas is in his Fleet cadetuniform (which tells the reader he is the type of person who didn’t feel theneed to change his out of his everyday uniform for the sake of a costume — Ishe too proud of it? Is he too shy to dress in something bizarre? Is it alreadya costume to him?) and he sees Hadrian across the way. Hadrian is wearing thedraping robes and ivy and burning candle crown of a pagan god of mischief(which tells the reader damn neareverything they are in for with him. That he pays attention to ancientpagan god history in a religious society, that he isn’t concerned with lookingridiculous in public, that he is a huge fuck-head.) [note from the blog owner:I love him.]

That is different! That isn’t going into details aboutfineries/tatters/tailored clothing vs. hand-me-downs.

Clever segue to thenext section!!

A student of curiosity—

So you may notice that I am not going to mention a very hugepart about writing in this bullshit thing I’m claiming as writing advice, andthat is how you construct your plot. Who gives a shit? Sorry that was harsh.But we’ve all seen that chart in school about rising action and climax andfalling action and UGH.Because seriously, who gives a shit? You write what you want, there are no rules.

But! I can add a few words about how to help your story getswol. Or at least, what worked best with what I do. Like I said earlier, humansare fucking absurd. And human history is so broad and sweeping and fantasticthat you can find endless sources for inspiration to draw upon. It is importantto stay curious and make a habit of studying the bizarre. I utilize my love ofhistory to find inspiration. History pulls from and contains so many other topicsto learn about and utilize; superstitions, unsolved mysteries, trends, deadreligions, all sorts of niches that have wedged their way into the buildingblocks of history.

If you find history dry, that’s fine! Loads of people do.The point is, if something really grabs you, take the time to think about whyit did. Those wiki binges that last until 3am? What is it about those subjectsthat drew you in that you could borrow for your story? (I once based an entireromance novel on a wiki binge about the quartering of soldiers in the colonial UnitedStates.) Podcasts are fantastic for this! I’d recommend Lore if you haven’t already checked itout. Even though Aaron Mahnke drives me fucking crazy with that “well, yousee, maybe human beings were the monsters the whole time” bullshit, I stilllove this podcast.

But remain curious as you write. Think about moments inbooks and movies that have stuck with you and you don’t know why. Some cleverlittle thing that made you pause. Like, for me, the kitchen scene in JurassicPark. I’d never seen kids under such threat before, just pure terror, and thatis my very first thought upon thinking about that movie. I know that I writenotes (usually when I’m at work) on what about a thing made me sit up and payattention. Then I break it down and mold it into something new. Who knows,maybe it will help add a great twist into the plot that you didn’t think of.

 The literal scene, a quick note—

I’m also a huge nerd for movies and the way movies are shot.I know this is coming out of the blue, and may seem odd to add in a monsterpost about writing, but stickwith me on this. Movies and writing have some overlap if you’re willing tospend time thinking about constructing a scene in your book the same way adirector frames a shot. I swear, it works if you let it.

When I get frustrated with how a scene is playing out whileI am writing, I try approaching it based on how it would be framedcinematically. Every reader has (what my wife calls) the theater of the mind,and you can use that to your advantage as you write. Think about how acharacter would view a room upon entering it for the first time. What draws theireye, what piques their interest, what is central to them. Film directors to thesame thing when they frame a shot. They carefully plan how the light falls overa character’s face. They deconstruct and reconstruct the layout of a room. Theyblock the actors. They pan over book titles to show a character’s interest.They  they keep important things out offrame to remind the viewer that it will come back into play in a few moments.  You can do that all, too, when you write!

I recommended once that my wife and I watch a very well shottv show when we were both frustrated with writing. We got sketchbooks and drewwhat caught our eyes. I remember I latched on to the way a character’s earringsmoved every time she did; it was subtle, but vibrant, kinetic, and a detail Idon’t think I would have thought to add if I was writing that same scene. Iliked how the bloodshot eyes of a character didn’t come into view until thescene grew tense and they filmed a closeup of the actor. I thought that wouldtranslate well in writing; add tension when my character got too close and sawthat the other character was influenced by something yet unseen. I detailed theway shadows fell over a staircase, and how the beam of light was on only themost enlightened of the characters in an ensemble cast.

This is something you can do on days when your brain is afried pancake and yet you still want to work on advancing your story. Take a TVshow or a movie that left an impression on you and take notes on the environment,or the actors’ expressions, etc. As strange as this sounds, it works well withanimation. Every single thing in awork of animation was purposely chosen to be there. Every single thing wascreated – like your writing will be. I’d say look at Satoshi Kon’sanimation process. Not only is his work a fantastic exploration of writingand storytelling, he is very purposeful in what is seen, shown, understood, andthen subverted. Think about how you’d write that, how you’d describe it. How a “quickcut” can translate into writing the impressions and feelings in a character.(ie. The smoke clouds, into a clear sky, how a character looking at one can getthe impression of another).

I’d recommend looking at Every Frame aPainting YouTube page. I know I got a swell of inspiration on how to paceout and detail a scene based on the importance of subtle details in this video.Or, if you want to think about how to construct a plot, Lindsey Ellis on YouTubeand her video essays are fantastic, too. For example, if you want to think ofhow your characters address and interact with your narrative, consider what shehas to sayabout RENT. The last minute of this video is gut-wrenchingly powerful and saysmore about the dissonance between characters and their narrative/the event thatnarrative was based on in that ONE MINUTE than months of research could tellyou. (Note, don’t watch this if you love RENT. If you love RENT, that’s okay,my wife reeaaallly does.) [note from the blog owner: I do love RENT, but thisis a really great video and I don’t disagree with anything she had to say. Stilllove RENT, but boy it’s got its problems, haha]

Aaaaand that’s all I think I have to say about that! Thank youso much for sticking with me this far! I hope something in this mess helps you.Thank you again!

In final—

Your voice moving forward with your manuscript is unique,and your voice is powerful. There will never be one like it again and there hasnever been one like it before you. There has never been a day of your life that wasn’t aproduct of chaos and mayhem from unseen struggles of the universe, and yet youmade it through some boring Tuesday! Good luck, and I’ll be rooting for you!

 Sincerely, The Gay Wife

[mizusjawline]

How to start your own DIY project

I’ve kind of been thinking about all the things I’ve learned through my prop making projects and there’s so many tips and things I’ve picked up and, in the end, once you’ve got all that it’s pretty easy to start your own project.

So I guess this is all about how to prepare your own project, develop your own style and just go creative.

First of all, BEFORE YOU EVEN THINK OF STARTING YOUR OWN PROJECT, collect stuff. Cardboard boxes, old packaging, sheets of plastic, newspaper. Anything that looks useful goes into a stash. 

In fact, I have three stashes in my room: One for cardboard, one for scraps of paper and one for more expensive and valuable materials. And with valuable, I don’t mean super rare, I mean nice types of paper or gold card. Things that are beautiful and which I guard jealously. 

Stashes are important because they give you a starting point. When you want to make a new project it’s sometimes hard to think of how exactly you’re going to turn it into reality. Then is a good time to go digging through your stash and suddenly you find the perfectly shaped piece of plastic and you completely forgot it was there but it solves all your problems.

SECONDLY: LOOK AT OTHER PEOPLE’S STUFF

When I told my brother to do this, he was completely shocked and told me he wanted this project to be totally his own and not stolen from someone else’s stuff. He has a point but thinking that you can do all this on your own without anybody’s help, especially if you’re a beginner, is actually pretty arrogant. You need to see what other people are doing and learn some techniques. Copying other artists is the best way for an artist to learn. So go on YouTube, watch and follow some of the tutorials there. Once you’ve done that and developed some styles, THEN you can turn to your own project. You’re not copying or plagiarising from someone, you’re learning from them 

HAVING SAID THAT, HERE ARE THE TYPES OF VIDEO TUTORIALS YOU SHOULD AVOID:

ONES INVOLVING SPECIALIST EQUIPMENT. Unless you have a workshop or a 3D printer at your disposal, these kinds of tutorials are not very useful. You want something that you can do here and now, in your room, with the things you have available. THE ONLY PIECE OF SPECIALIST EQUIPMENT I WOULD ENCOURAGE YOU TO BUY IS A CRAFT KNIFE. Nothing goes without a craft knife.

ONES THAT START WITH A GIRL IN MAKEUP AND IMMACULATE NAIL VARNISH HOLDING UP HUNDREDS OF PRODUCTS YOU NEED TO BUY. Whilst these tutorials are extremely fun to watch, they are made to advertise and endorse products rather than to be helpful. It’s a bit like looking at a picture of a woman on a billboard. She’s beautiful, but it’s not realistic to try and look as beautiful as her.

IF IT’S IN ANY WAY HELPFUL, THIS IS THE VIDEO THAT STARTED ME OFF ON DIY PROJECTS. THIS IS GOOD FOR BEGINNERS, MATERIALS ARE EASY TO COME BY AND THE RESULT LOOKS GREAT:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oa_0JiC5Ts&t=314s

WHEN STARTING YOUR OWN PROJECT:

When you were watching those YouTube tutorials, which material did you enjoy using best? And how can you use that material in your project?

Asking yourself and answering those two questions is often very challenging. For example, my favourite material is cardboard but how do I create a locket that opens and can be locked using only cardboard? To help yourself answer it, stop thinking what you don’t have or need to buy and start to focus on what you do have. This is a good time to start digging through your stash. I promise you, sooner or later you will find a solution. One thing I learned is that you can make the most intricate and elegant things out of cardboard if you think about it hard enough.

IF YOU REALLY CAN’T THINK OF A WAY TO TURN THIS MATERIAL INTO WHATEVER YOU’RE MAKING, MAYBE THIS ISN’T THE MATERIAL FOR YOU. TRY SOMETHING ELSE.

AVOID BUYING STUFF. The end result  of your project is so much more satisfying if it was born from your inventiveness and your resourcefulness. Not from the shopping basket. True, some people just have a knack for taking what’s around them and turning it into something new, but you can have that too if you train it hard enough. And once you have it, it can be applied to all sorts of things in life. It’s a very useful skill 

Of course, in the end, there is often a shopping list. Some materials, like LED lights, can’t be found at home. But avoid thinking about said shopping list until you have answered those two questions above.

FINAL PLANNING STAGE: BUILD THE OBJECT IN YOUR HEAD

You’ve probably already started to do this during the section above. Just imagine yourself building each step of what you’re making. Try to think of exactly what could go wrong and how to fix it. If you’re finding this exercise difficult, go for a walk. For some reason, walking really helps you think and often that’s when the solutions come to you.

If it helps, write notes. Sometimes important stages like adding a wire loop or sticking it together in a very specific way are the stages that are most easy to forget.

IMPORTANT NOTE TO REMEMBER: OFTEN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THINGS ARE THE MOST DIFFICULT TO BUILD.

YOU need to decide where you’re going to draw that line and make that compromise:

beauty vs ease of making 

BUT DO CHALLENGE YOURSELF

I often find it confusing when art teachers tell you to stick to you comfort zones but at the same time you’re supposed to take risks. The way I’d interpret it in this context is like this: STICK TO MATERIALS AND TECHNIQUES YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH AND TAKE RISKS IN THE WAY YOU’RE GOING TO USE THEM AND THE THINGS YOU’RE GOING TO BUILD WITH THEM.

For example, me using cardboard and tissue paper (which I always use) to make a beautiful and fully functional locket

SO, I GUESS THAT’S IT. SORRY THIS POST WAS SO LONG BUT I THINK I’VE JUST ABOUT COVERED EVERYTHING.

I hope this makes the ride more smooth for you and that you enjoy trying your own craft project. If you’d like to collect some inspiration or some help in kick starting your own project, please visit my blog at:

https://lord-of-nerdy-art.tumblr.com/

Have fun and feel free to ask me questions or send me some of your projects. I would love to see your own approaches to the subject

[kreetthekobold]

34 - Sigmundurr

Sigmundurr knocked on her door a little later. Kreet opened the door to let the big man in. His blue eyes looked unexpectedly sober.

"Gator," he began. "I've been thinking..."

"Always a plus," she smiled and beckoned him to sit on the bed. "I've been hoping to catch one of you anyway. I need some things for tomorrow."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Well, I need 6 amber bottles for one, the darker the better. Some sandpaper too. They'll have some at a blacksmith's shop if not here. Some tools too. Mostly a good small, sharp knife and a file or rasp. Glue too. And a good length of dark cloth. Cloth you can't see through."

Sigmundurr repeated the items back to her.

"I'll give you some more gold for this," Kreet assured him, but he shook his head.

"I don't need more gold, Gator. That's what I came up here for."

"What, are you rich or something?"

"No. I just don't need gold. Ever. Handy to have a bit around, but it ties you down. You may have noticed I'm not exactly... civilized."

Kreet laughed. "Sig, you are nearly the definition of chaos embodied."

"Gator, I'd like to go with you tomorrow."

She sat back in her chair at that. In many ways, he was the last person she would want to travel with them. She'd seen him go berserk at the least provocation. Murderously berserk. She didn't want to imagine how many people he'd killed.

"Sig... you know I couldn't stop you if you wanted to. But... Sig, I don't like you. I've already tried to fight you before. You are the opposite of everything I believe in."

"I know. But you need me anyway."

"I need somebody Sig. I don't think I need you. You're too much for me to handle. I was going to ask Dinkle. Besides, you're an adventurer. I don't plan on this being an adventure. I just want to find my home!"

"Dinkle? He couldn't fight off an orc!"

"I don't know. You saw him. He's resourceful. Plus he's a monk. Not exactly the same as a cleric like me, but he follows a moral compass, while you..."

"Chaos," the big man said.

"Yes. I can't control you. I don't want to have to try. I'm no leader, Sig. I'm not even backup. Until recently I was working at a tavern and the most excitement I'd have was a slap on the butt. I like it that way, Sig. I don't want... this," she said, indicating her surroundings.

Sigmundurr looked to be considering something.

"You can't stop me from coming with you, you said."

"Well, that's for sure! Unless you're bound and shackled, you pretty much go where you want."

"I'm coming with you," he smiled.

"Sig! No! Did you not hear anything I just said?! I don't want you to!"

Sigmundurr stood up and shrugged, smiling. "I don't care. I'm going with you. You need me, at least until we get out of the Underdark. After that... well, we'll see."

"But why? For Pelor's sake, why would you want to?"

Sigmundurr stepped to the door, holding it open before he left. "I like you, little kobold. That's enough reason for Sigmundurr. I don't like people often. I will be your leader. Till we're out anyway. I'll get your stuff. Oh, you can come back down now. The crowd has left."

He closed the door. This was definitely not going the way she'd envisioned at all. 

She looked up at the ceiling and envisioned it in her mind. Beyond it was the roof, she supposed. A roof that had never seen rain. And above that, high above it, was the roof of the gigantic cavern that held the entire city she was in. Above that was probably miles of rock, dirt and who knows what else. Then above that was the great Outside as the residents here called it. Outside the Underdark, where light and darkness alternated. Where rain fell and wind blew and flowering plants grew. And above that was the sky. She was trained to think of that as the dwelling place of Pelor, though the presence of her own powers even here in the Underdark argued against his abode being in any specific place. Beyond that was the stars and moons. How far away they were, she couldn't fathom. Maybe this was Pelor's will after all. She might be a acolyte, but she knew as little as anyone how his mind worked. 

Or maybe this was the work of Nerull, the God of darkness. Presumably the god of Kallid. This was undoubtedly his domain. She'd read enough about her own kind, even if she hadn't grown up with them, to know that they worshipped and feared their god of darkness. She didn't fear Pelor. She loved him. "It!", she laughed to herself. She couldn't picture the God of Light with some gigantic penis, even if that's what all the monks she'd known had implied he must have. What would he even use it for? No, for her at least, Pelor wasn't a man or a woman. He wasn't a he. But "It" sounded too impersonal, and she did feel a personal connection with him. So she'd just keep calling Pelor "He" for sake of convenience. He could be a kobold for all she knew, or cared. He gave her strength, comfort and the meager powers she did possess.

As an acolyte, she felt like she was failing. As far as she knew, she'd not converted a single soul to Pelor. But her method was the method her Master had taught her - to lead them to Pelor by example, not by proselytizing. In the end, her Master had let her down when she learned of his true history, in the harshest of ways. But she still followed his methods. She knew no other way. She went on her knees. She knew instinctively that kneeling was in no way related to praying, but it did focus her mind. 

Then, something happened. Something like a white light washed over her. It had happened once before, and she knew what it was. She had been Raised. Somehow, with all her mistakes and foolish actions, Pelor had seen fit to raise her to the next level. She thanked him, but was too eager to find out what new powers she had gained. The knock on the door was annoying. But she rose anyway and opened the door. Sigmundurr was there with her supplies.

"Thanks Sig! Well, I've accepted you are coming whether I like it or not. I don't want too many people though, so it's just you, me and Kallid. Just leave those on the bed."

"That's a smart lizard," Sigmundurr laughed.

"Well, when a boulder comes crashing down the path at you, you don't try and stop it. You just try to stay out if its way," Kreet replied, not without humor.

"That's right!" Sigmundurr agreed and patted her head. It was an annoying thing he did, and botheringly patronizing. She'd gotten used to it. Being a kobold, it was pretty much a requirement. It didn't help that until recently she had played the part of 'stupid little naive kobold', and once someone's opinion of you has been set it's not an easy thing to change. She accepted it with good grace.

"Sig, if you're coming with us, would you mind terribly getting supplies together? Take some coin. I'm going to be busy here for quite a while."

"Sure Gator. 5 gold should do it."

"Thanks Sig. And Sig..." Kreet said as he turned around at the door.

"Yeah?"

"Look... I'm sorry about what I said before. It's not that I don't like you. It's just... you're YOU, you know?"

"Always have been. No problem Gator. I know I'm a bit much. But sometimes you need someone like me."

"And sometimes you don't! Try and control yourself, will you? For me?"

"No promises, Gator. I am who I am. But I'll try... a little," he said and closed the door behind him.

She sighed and turned to the supplies on her bed. It was getting late it was going to take a long time to make two good, functional sunglasses for her and Kallid. She picked up the empty bottles and the tools and began breaking glass carefully. She'd done this so many times over the years, she didn't so much as scratch herself. Working with unfamiliar tools was the only challenge, but it was a slow and intricate process anyway. Yet she had gotten good at it. She wondered idly while she worked if this craft making mindset was why kobolds were legendary for their trap making ability. Probably.

Finally she had finished and the night was getting late. She put away the debris, made her necessary oblations to Nature and Pelor, and crawled into bed. She didn't have to blow out any candle - she had been working in all but pitch darkness the entire time. A bell rang from the tavern room and she heard footsteps in the hallway open and close as voices passed by her door. She recognized some of them. 

Then a light knock came and she opened the door. Kallid stepped in and she took his hand, not saying anything. She closed the door quietly and locked it. Then she led him to her bed. True to his word, he didn't try to do anything too intimate or dangerous. But she did enjoy his attentions and returned them with attentions of her own. An hour later she fell to sleep in his embrace, his head under hers. She could come to like this, she realized. Yes, she could definitely get used to this.

[allovevirginhair]

Top 10 Romantic Beach Wedding Hairstyle Ideas For SeasideCelebration

Wedding is the most important day for all women. All of the women want to have a romantic wedding and to be the most beautiful girl all over the world. Are you planning to say your I do’s out on the sandy seashore? It is romantic and amazing.

This year will have loads more beach weddings than we've seen in the past, with smaller, outdoor weddings taking the place of larger, indoor affairs in a mid-pandemic world. With that in mind, many of 2021's celebrations will likely take place on the beach, or shoreside.

Do you have an idea for your beach wedding? Do you want to have a beach wedding hairstyle for your big day? Below you’ll find the top 10 romantic and popular beach wedding hairstyles ideas perfect for a seaside celebration. You can click here to learn more about the best hair wigs for black women's weddings.

 Why Beach Wedding Is So Popular?

Beach weddings have maintained their popularity throughout the years because of their flexibility especially in comparison to other wedding themes. Brides and grooms can organize their beach weddings during any season while being as relaxed or extravagant as they wish.

Beach wedding ceremony ideas often overlap with rustic, bohemian, and travel themes so the options for a seaside celebration are truly endless. A Beach wedding makes your special day feel like it came straight out of a romantic movie scene!

Top 10 Romantic Beach Wedding Hairstyle Ideas

Beachy Waves

 Some brides opt to wear their hair down, and they look fabulous on their big day. If you have a dress with a simple neckline or are going sleeveless or backless, this can be an elegant choice. Try styling your hair in gentle waves or curls using a large-barrel curling iron or large hot rollers. Be sure to use a shine serum and a heat protector for the best results. After you finger-comb out your waves, use hairspray to set them for all-day holding power.

Elegant Side Ponytail

 For another look with a boho vibe, try this exciting twist on the side ponytail. Start by giving your hair gentle waves and then sweep it over to one shoulder. Add a twist or two and then secure your tresses with pins instead of elastic for an updated version of the classic ponytail.

No matter how to you choose to wear your hair for an outdoor ceremony, one of the most important considerations will be your styling products. Take into account the weather, heat, humidity, and wind conditions to be sure that you use enough primer, gloss, and spray to give your locks the staying power they need to look picture perfect all day long.

Mermaid Waves

 It doesn't get more quintessential beach wedding hair than shiny, wind-swept waves. This swoon-worthy style is the stuff beachy bridal-hair dreams are made of.

Romantic Half-Up Braid

 We love these half-up beach wedding hairstyles because they're the perfect combination of form and function: You can still show off your tresses while keeping them out of your face. Plus they work for any hair length. For a modern half-up beach wedding hairstyle, pin the front part of your hair back with a sparkly hairpiece.

Knotted Up-do

This cool-girl take on a French twist comes about by layering two twisted buns or by knotting your hair into two buns. It's an effortless look.

A Charming Flower Wave

Pull inspiration from your nature-filled wedding venue and incorporate flowers into your 'do. For a unique beach wedding hairstyle, add in some flowers (we love these small white blooms) to give your wedding hair that extra little touch of romance, asymmetrical hairdo.

A Relaxed Ponytail

This dreamy low ponytail is a fitting choice for this bride's Hawaiian nuptials. Loosen a few tendrilsfrom the center part and dot with flowers to finish off the vibe.

Whimsical Knot

Variations of the top knot and bun are beautiful traditional go-to’s for wedding stylists everywhere. In this whimsical knot, the bride has a smooth up-do that comes back to an intricate design with lovely pearls worked into it. The result is an elegant style that would be perfect on the beachfront or in a rustic barn.

Beach Wedding Hairstyles With Headband

 Use a headband to tame humidity-induced flyaways and to keep your hair out of your face when the seaside breeze picks up.

Long, Smooth Curls

 If your tresses have serious length, show off your hair by rocking these gorgeous smooth curls. Have your stylist work some frizz-fighting product through your waves before pictures so they stay shiny and sleek all day.

No matter how to you choose to wear your hair for a seaside or outdoor celebration, one of the most important considerations will be your hair quality. You must buy the top quality 100 human hair wigs which can be dyed, permed, straightened and styled your desired look and give your locks the staying power they need to look natural and perfect all day long.

Hope the blog is helpful to you, if you want to know more, Visit Allove Hair

[aion-rsa]

Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan Is a Netflix Docu-Drama Written in Blood and Ink

https://ift.tt/3qRbgjj

Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan, a new historical documentary series on Netflix, is being billed as a “real-life Game of Thrones” but it’s much more than that. This is actual history, which is far more compelling than fantasy because it really transpired. “It is like something out of a movie,” says showrunner Matt Booi. “If you wrote this down, no one would believe it. And if you saw it, I think you’d say, ‘Nah.’ But it happened.” 

According to Booi, the show covers one of the most violent periods in Japanese history. The six-part series begins in 1551 with the death of feudal lord Oda Nobuhide and follows the rise of three of Japan’s most influential warriors: Nobuhide’s son, Oda Nobunaga (Masayoshi Haneda), Tokugawa Ieyasu (Hayate Masao), and Toyotomi Hideyoshi (Masami Kosaka). Japanese historians, as well as dedicated fans of Samurai movies, will be all too familiar with these three Samurai because their impact on Japan, and their consequential representation in Japanese media, is enormous. 

“It’s something that a lot of people outside Japan don’t know a lot about,” Booi says. “They know the iconic sort of figure of the Samurais, but a lot of the minutiae was missing. Netflix understood, and so did we, that this was a great story that is going to resonate with a lot of people.”

Nobunaga, Ieyasu, and Hideyoshi lived during Japan’s sanguineous Sengoku period (1467-1615). Sengoku means “warring states.” It was a time when the country was ravaged by civil war, political intrigue, and upheaval. This period is the setting of almost every Samurai story. It was when these noble and brutal swordsmen were beginning to become eclipsed by firearms. “That’s what makes this era so poignant,” Booi explains, “We’re seeing the end of an era. It’s like the same way that guns ended the mounted knight in Europe.”

Booi understands why Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan is being compared to one of the biggest TV series of the last decade, too. “The Game of Thrones reference is a nod to the political maneuvering that is happening on the political landscape at this time. It’s a chessboard that these certain players are moving key pieces to try and control it all. It really is about an attempt by a handful of people to gain control over a fractured nation.” Like Game of Thrones, the Sengoku period is an epic saga, full of tales of honor, ruthlessness, and betrayal. It is one of the most colorful eras of Japanese history. 

And that color is red – blood red.

Lessons from Akira Kurosawa and Manga

When it comes to Samurai films, the undisputed master was Japanese auteur Akira Kurosawa. One of the world’s most celebrated directors, Kurosawa made classic films like Hidden Fortress (the inspiration for Star Wars), Seven Samurai (the inspiration for The Magnificent Seven, Battle Beyond the Stars, and many more) and the psychologically relevant Rashomon. The Samurai genre owes a tremendous debt to his work. 

“I’m such a Kurosawa fan,” Booi says. “In terms of cinema, he rules over everyone almost in my mind. His ability to tell a story visually, I don’t think you can touch it. He’s just so astonishing. He’s the greatest. He’s the master. In terms of movement and shots, of how nature was, it was always something that we were aspiring to try and walk a little bit in his shadow.”

Additionally, Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan stole some pages from another leading Japanese media. According to Booi, graphic novels were a major source of inspiration. “If you look at the composition of shots, look at the color, at the color correct, it’s very dark. It’s a very gritty world punctuated by blasts of color, the reds of the blood, the red of the armor sometimes. So we thought a lot about graphic novels because, obviously, that’s such a big part of the world of contemporary Samurai lovers. We wanted that to inform it.” 

Furthermore, many of the re-enactment scenes are framed through doorways and such to resemble a graphic novel panel. This was a very conscious effort from the filmmakers. “There are two motifs that are heavily used, and one is blood and one is ink,” Booi explains. “The history of Japan in this period really seemed like it was written in blood and ink. Graphically, we were trying to make a world that nodded its head towards graphic novels and comics in general.”

Several battle scenes are shot in shadowy darker tones, contrasted by brilliant splashes of digital blood. “We might’ve got a little carried away with that,” Booi confesses, “but it’s hard not to when you’re in that world…It’s pretty shocking though when you get into some of the accounts of Nobunaga literally putting swords through just unfathomable amounts of people who stood in his way.”

Getting the Battles Right

Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan balances these ferocious battle reenactments with explanations from some of the world’s leading scholars and authors. They put the violence into historical perspective. 

“We leaned on what we thought were some of the best storytellers, not just best academics,” Booi says, “people who can not only download the information but do it in a way that was comprehensible but also entertaining, because for so many of our viewers, a lot of these ideas and these concepts and even names are going to be very foreign. To have people like we had to unpack this for us was really incredible.”

Read more

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For any period project, historical accuracy is key. Authenticity was paramount for the production. Booi’s team sourced armor and weaponry from some leading companies that make them for other Japanese historical activities. “Some we had to make,” Booi admits. “Obviously, authenticity is really difficult when you’re dealing with such intricate designs and such incredible craftsmanship.” The filmmakers made sure objects like the family crests were accurate and were careful not to have them pop up in the wrong places. “It was incredibly challenging to try and portray any of it accurately.”

Another critical detail was to shoot all the reenactments in Japanese. Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan is produced by the Toronto-based production company Cream so Japanese dialogue presented a unique challenge, both during production and for editing. “It was an essential obstacle. We all felt that trying to tell this story, if we did not have Japanese-speaking actors representing these people, there would be no credibility. There would be no authenticity.” The Cream team felt that the whole thing would fall apart the minute one of the Samurai spoke in English. Japanese dialogue is translated with subtitles, including for the featured Japanese-speaking experts. However, the subtitling never gets obtrusive because the bulk of the story is in English. “We just felt that was non-negotiable, that it had to be there. And it was something that Netflix really backed us on too.” 

A Blood-soaked History Lesson

Booi has made other military history documentaries. Among them are award-winning and Emmy-nominated productions such as Breathing Fire: The Secret Weapon of the Somme (Channel 4), The Weapon Hunter (Smithsonian Channel), and Blood and Fury: America’s Civil War (AHC). War stories are his specialty. 

“There’s so many things that draw me to the genre. There’s the sweeping sort of historical stuff, but also as somebody who is really interested in stories, I think you can get some of the most gripping and entertaining stuff when people are forced with sort of life-and-death decisions like that.” Booi feels that telling the big picture stuff through personal stories is particularly compelling, which is why he focused his lens upon Nobunaga, Ieyasu, and Hideyoshi. As Booi says, “Looking at what happens with those three guys, you get an incredible window into how the period ends ultimately and how the next period begins.” 

Nobunaga alone is a fascinating figure. He has been portrayed repeatedly in movies, books, manga, anime, and even video games, usually as the villain, but not always. Kurosawa’s award-winning film Kagamusha depicted Nobunaga as a strong and respectful leader. Booi can’t categorize him as a villain or a hero. “It’s hard not to stand back and be sort of knocked out by his ambition, his genius. But on the other hand, it’s tough not to be revolted by his violence and cruelty. He would do anything for power.”

“It’s not by accident that one of our contributors constantly refers to him as sort of an Alexander the Great of Japan in that he was just so innovative. He was raised with so much tradition, but he wasn’t bound by it. That’s what’s so fascinating about him. He’s constantly doing the unexpected.”

In many ways, Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan is an exploration of how power corrupts. “It’s really interesting to watch what happened to Nobunaga and how the decisions that he makes later on in the show come back to haunt him.” 

Without dropping any spoilers (although anyone can just look up the Sengoku period online to find out what happens), Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan examines the consequences of what power does to a person and how it can cause devastating blind spots. It’s a time-honored tale, still so relevant for our time. 

“There’s always an appetite for some stories about the Samurai,” Booi says. “It was such a lovely period because it’s such a violent world, but it’s also a world that is so bound by honor and duty.” Booi enjoyed exploring both sides of the same coin. “It’s just such a remarkable world.” 

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For Booi, the Game of Thrones reference is an easy comparison to make. “But I think that’s where it ends. There’s lots more than the fantasy element of that.” Being reality based, Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan doesn’t include sorcery or White Walkers. “We have a one-eyed dragon,” Booi teases with a grin. But to learn who that was, you’ll just have to watch it.

Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan is a six-part series that premieres on Netflix on February 24, 2021.

The post Age of Samurai: Battle for Japan Is a Netflix Docu-Drama Written in Blood and Ink appeared first on Den of Geek.

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