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puzzleemerald · 4 months

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Please don't reblog!

I had to compress/scale down this beautiful piece so much in Clip Studio to make it fit Tumblr's 20 MB demands, hnnnnnng—

Coughs in complete absolute professionalism

The first of my OCs have officially had their links posted on my pinned Master Post! This is one of them: my beautiful, beloved, and tragic Inuyasha OC Amaterasu. This is a piece of art I commissioned earlier in 2023 from the lovely ItsNattie, from whom I've been commissioning art of many kinds for over a decade now! It's a massive poster-esque piece for Amaterasu's FanFic I've been slowly working on (it's one of uh... many... I have a draftaholic problem), and, if you hadn't guessed, she's a Sesshōmaru pairing!

That said, I consider an OC's FanFic version and their RP versions to be entirely separate for the sake of exploring ✨ infinite possibilities! ✨ So, while Amaterasu is paired with Sesshōmaru in her FanFiction, that doesn't mean I'll only allow Sesshōmaru RPers to exclusively pair with her romantically. I like to leave that up to vibes. If I feel like she's got chemistry with someone, you bet your zeros and ones I'm gonna ship it!

With that out of the way, allow me a moment to wax poetic about the weight and meaning behind this gorgeous piece of art to end the post.

Ahem.

TW: Death

Amaterasu is a character who, in essence, is supposed to be the sun goddess herself—the name isn't just for show. However, through the circumstances of her story, she's been sealed in a mortal body, and much of her power is diminished throughout the series. Like everyone else, she's out for Naraku's head. However, she ends up encountering Sesshōmaru. At first, they seem as if they'll kill each other. The reason is pretty straightforward. Sesshōmaru is an Inu Daiyōkai and the Lord of the West while Amaterasu is the Head Kami and Ruler of Takamagahara. Their very existences challenge each other and, by nature, they feel an instinctive loathing of the other.

However, due to their equally calm dispositions, instead of a fight, they have an interogation a conversation instead. Sesshōmaru questions who she is, and Amaterasu does the same. Jaken gives a fussy introduction on his Lord's behalf, and Amaterasu gives her name... before promptly telling them both to turn around so she can get out of the spring she was bathing in when Sesshōmaru sniffed out her divine aura.

They end up having several more encounters with each other, but Amaterasu has far more interactions with Inuyasha's party initially. At least until Rin comes into the picture. Then, she travels strictly with Sesshōmaru under the pretense of protecting Rin from him. Over time, the two become more tolerant of one another until they start checking over their shoulder to ensure the other is still there, using each other as a leaning post at night or entrusting the other with safeguarding Rin, Jaken, and A-Un when the other leaves for one reason or another. It borders that fine line of respect and affection; Sesshōmaru is aloof and apathetic, while Amaterasu unabashedly loves life and is compassionate. She learns through him that not all yōkai are out to kill humanity, and he finds a new warmth in life with her presence. Like winter in the face of spring, they need each other to complete a cycle or, in this case, each other. By "The Final Act," they are pressing their palms together to be sure the other is okay, staring each other in the eyes and covering each other in a fight.

However, I call Amaterasu a tragic OC for a reason. In the end, once Naraku is slain, Amaterasu's seal is undone, and her mortal body slowly breaks down. Without the seal, her power returns to her in total, and its too immense to be contained in such a shell. A kami of her magnitude cannot sustain a shape on the mortal plane. With what few hours they have left, she asks to return to the place they first met—the spring surrounded by sakura trees—which Sesshōmaru indulges. Flying her there in his arms with Rin and Jaken riding his mokomoko-sama. There, she has her farewells to each of them, praising Jaken's loyalty and courage despite his stature and weakness, telling Rin that she will watch her as she becomes a lady with the utmost warmth and character, and telling Sesshōmaru that he has changed her. That she can never be the same person she was before, but she wishes that she could, if only to relive it all. Because it was the happiest time of her life.

Under the shining sunrise, Amaterasu promises that, so long as their feelings remain unchanging, she will find a way to meet him there again. Every time he feels the sun's light and traces its beams, it will be her smiling and touching his hand, praying for him to live.

Finally, as her body crumbles into glowing flowers, they share a first and last kiss... until all that's touching his lips are cherry blossoms that fall through his arms to the ground of the clearing... blooming wildly with flowers and other foliage and surrounded by onlooking wildlife.

Thus, the feudal fairy tale of two tragic loves from completely opposite realms of existence concludes in the only way it ever could.

#Please don't reblog #Commission art #Art commission #Inuyasha #Anime #Manga #Inuyasha OC #Sesshomaru #Rin #Jaken #Amaterasu #OC #OC x canon #Sesshomaru x OC #Tragedy #Opposites attract #Enemies to lovers #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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itsvaleriesucka · 4 months

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the day of your luck - chapter one

pairing: criminal!joel miller x fem!reader chapter one summary: after your release from dade-county prison, you've implemented some changes into your life. you finally meet your new "friendly" neighbor.

chapter one warnings: language, indications of argument

word count: 4k

a/n: the reader does speak spanish by the way. i provided an english translation in case anyone needs it. to those reading, i hope you all enjoy! (: feel free to let me know if there are any mistakes or warnings i missed out on.

spanish to english translation: ⋆ "Quieres algo más?" → "Do you want something else?" ⋆ "El cheque, por favor." → "The check, please." ⋆ "Quiero pedir algo para llevar." → "I want to order something to go."

prelude ⋆ chapter two ⋆ series masterlist

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

It was a typical sunny day here in Miami. The blazing heat shimmered the pavement, the grandeur of art deco buildings shined by sun rays. The refreshing scent of sand and sun tan lotion combined fills the air as you skate along the sidewalks of South Beach. The cool wind, a gentle breeze coming off the waters blows through your luscious hair as well as causing the palm trees to sway.

Your ears were too occupied to listen to the surrounding of people and cars passing by. A perfect mute from the real world. Your Walkman clipped against the side of your hips while your ears filled with Bill Withers’ Lovely Day.

You held two leashes that wrapped against your wrists, one on your right and the other on your left. They kept up with your quick pace from your favorite pair of quads. And by they— the dogs.

Dog walking.

A side gig you managed to hustle to make some extra cash for your pocket.

What better way to spend some time outside and see the real life around you. Literally. You tend to stick at home in your own solitude the majority of the time binge watching old films, eating Chinese take out, reading Vogue magazines of the latest fashion trends, and keeping track of your CD collections.

It’s been six months since your release from Dade-County prison and you barely know anybody. You’ve always been a lone gal just wandering around on a day to day basis. You weren’t the type to win a popularity contest either. You would prefer to keep a low profile anyways.

After what had happened that led you behind bars, you can’t fathom into trusting anyone. You’ve learned from your mistakes and learning from your mistakes will take you far. At least that’s what you remembered your correctional social worker telling you.

Alright fine.

You only know certain locals. Around three or four but that’s about it.

Ever since your release, you've implemented changes in your life that have made you become a better version of yourself. Sure, you still got some kleptomania urgencies but you learned to walk away. If you want it, just save the money and come back for it. If it’s still there, it was meant to be.

Pushing your left foot backwards, the toe stopper from your skate quads scraps along the pavement, slowing you down until you come to a full complete stop. The dogs got the memo and stood beside you. All you can hear them is pant for breath.

There was an empty bench nearby a shaded area for you to sit and rest for a moment. You removed your backpack and placed it upon your lap to dig inside for your water bottle. You took a couple of sips before pouring the rest near the dog's muzzles.

They’re both Golden Retrievers. Mike and Basil. Brother and sister who are always side by side with each other. Hence why you’re walking them both together because the owner said they cannot walk alone, they refuse to.

That’s very cute. You scratched them both behind their ears and boy, did their tail wagged.

“Are you two hungry?”

Ears perked up with slight head tilts.

“Yeah?” You smiled. “Let’s go eat.”

You began to remove your quads, tying both the shoelaces together into a perfect knot. You reached into your backpack and pulled out your comfortable white chucks and slipped them on. White chucks compliments every single outfit.

You wore nothing but high-waisted blue denim shorts with cute patches that adorned right on your rear. You managed to find the patches during your thrifting adventures. A white cropped tank with your favorite band displayed.

There was a group of male runners heading your way. All of them were shirtless. The lotion smeared on them enhances their robust chests. Their muscular definition was a sight to witness. The moment you got yourself up, you began to tie your shoelaces together. Right foot on the bench while the other foot on the ground. Soon switching.

Your purple plastic hoop earrings swayed against every moment you made. Your skin, sun kissed by the sun itself, radiates with the glow of your sunscreen lotion with a hint of sweat. Each man laid eyes upon you. Upon every exposed skin shown. Upon your thighs down to your legs that goes on forever.

Nothing but flirtatious whistles and sweet nicknames came out from them. Your expression kept stern, you glanced the other way to distract yourself through your Ray-Bans.

Anyone who was anyone could be seen in these iconic pair of sunglasses. You loved them, they were your favorite staple piece you own.

You weren’t going to lie, those men were fine as hell. But it was a major turn off that they only cat called and whistled out to you. If at least one of them came up to tell you how stunning you are, you maybe would’ve given in and tell him your thanks.

Maybe.

Like you’ve remembered, trust issues.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You sat down in a corner Cuban bakery café. One of your favorite places to go and grab a quick bite. Those homemade croquetas and pastelitos were to die for. If this is something you had to eat for the rest of your life, it’s this.

When you were first released from prison, the first thing you had asked your correctional social worker to do was take you to this bakery. Just by being here and eating always brings back a lot of memories from your past.

Mike and Basil drank and ate in their complimentary food and water bowl provided by the lovely staff. You always ate inside but since they aren’t allowed, only outside seating is provided. It’s a gorgeous day so you might as well take advantage and enjoy what’s around you.

While dipping your pastelitos into your coffee, your eyes scanned a couple of advertisements displayed on a newspaper you managed to get on your way over here. Beautiful apartment complexes displayed right before you. You envisioned yourself in a luxury living lifestyle, way up high in those condos, sitting down on your balcony looking out into the seaside view every single morning.

Your mind began to wander off into a setting you aren’t allowed to even think about. Already thinking of ways to obtain easy money to picture yourself amongst the rich. You glanced away and folded the newspaper, sliding it away, releasing a defeated sigh.

Stop. You absolutely cannot go back.

“Quieres algo más?” The kind waitress came by to check up on you.

“El cheque, por favor.”

Growing up as a little girl around the Latin culture and community of Miami, you’ve learned to speak, write, and understand Spanish. I mean, if you’re going to live here, you at least have to understand the basics to get by.

The waitress smiles and picks the empty plates from the table to go get your check.

An idea came across your mind. You suddenly call out to your waitress and she halts before stepping inside.

“Quiero pedir algo para llevar.” You smiled as did your waitress.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You already dropped off the dogs at the time their owner wanted to be back, earning yourself ten bucks. Not bad. Sundays are typically the slowest day since everybody is out having fun on their day off or staying at home to spend some time with family.

Starting tomorrow, things should pick up.

Aside from dog walking, you managed to find a job working for a gentleman who runs the town’s music shop on Lincoln Road. Only Fridays and Saturdays. The pay was surprisingly well.

The apartment complex you lived in wasn’t bad nor one of a kind. It was a place to sleep, eat, and shower. A place where you’re able to destress and listen to your favorite music playing from a small silver boom box you owned. You’re thankful your correctional social worker helped you find a place to stay. Rent was affordable with what you’re able to make weekly so you can’t really complain.

You pulled out a set of keys, one key was to open the main gate of your apartment complex. You can see a few of your neighbors out on their balcony. Some were talking, drinking, or smoking. There was a kid playing ball with another kid on the grass.

Opening the door, you wanted to check your mailbox. You always did on Sunday’s just to see what arrived. The second key was specifically your mailbox door, shared with four others that lived on the same floor as you.

You grabbed each letter and newspaper and searched through each and every one of them to find your name but to no avail.

Although there seems to be a new name that appeared. Looks like there’s a new neighbor. You tossed all the letters and slips back inside the tiny slot and locked the door.

This apartment building only has four floors. The elevator on your right still isn’t working since the same signage has been displayed for over a month now. It depends on your mood, you often take the elevator if you’re out grocery shopping or if you were too lazy to take the stairs to the third floor.

Having the elevator unavailable meant good exercise for you anyways. Your quads hung over your right shoulder, you held them tightly while walking up the steps. You can listen to certain neighbors having a conversation, some in Spanish, some in English. There was a pesky dog on the second floor that always barks whenever he or she seems to hear someone or probably wants to bark just because.

As you reach the third floor you can hear commotion going on, an argument. You hear a familiar voice.

It’s your neighbor, Delaney, who so happens to be caught fighting her boyfriend, as always.

“I didn’t fuckin’ had the dinner ready on time because I was out workin’ all night!” Yep. That’s her alright. Her typical Jersey accent all spiced up. Where she’s from, it’s obvious. She wanted to get away from the cold weather. She was sick and tired of snowy days and having to shovel away ice from her driveway so she moved all the way from New Jersey and landed here in Miami. Nothing but hot and sunny weather all day, everyday.

She worked late nights at a place called Club Pink Pussycat, Miami’s first and finest strip club that offered nudity since day one.

“When I get back, that goddamn casserole better be done! I work my ass off all day and I come home and there’s nothing?!” Her boyfriend stormed out through the door and slammed it shut behind him. He slips a cigarette in between his lips to have a smoke. Your eyes met with his.

“Fuck outta my way.” He grumbled and walked down the stairs past you. He’s lucky to have been gone before you said anything. God. You despised that man.

Delaney opened the door, she’s covered in nothing but her fancy satin pink robe. Her hair was voluminous and styled. Teased and permed to perfection. Her large golden hoops shined with the rest of her jewelry worn. Red lips stained the tipping paper of her cigarette that’s being held in between her index and middle finger. Her pink press on flicks at her cigarette tip, allowing the ashes to fall onto the ground.

Her expression softens from the familiarity of your face the moment her eyes laid upon you.

“Oh, hi sweetie. I’m sorry ‘bout that...” Her voice is soft.

“Why do you let that asshole treat you the way he does?”

It’s true. You always wondered why and there has to be a reason. No man should ever downgrade a woman the way he does, ever. If it were you, he would’ve left a long time ago. In the end, it is not your relationship to get yourself involved like that.

“Oh ya know…he’s the baby daddy of my little boy. It’s hard sometimes.” Delaney pinches the end of her cigarette in between her plump lips to inhale some smoke. Hands gesturing towards you to come inside before she exhaled.

“Come in, come! I’ve baked some sugar cookies. I saved some for you since I thought you might want a bite.”

You stepped inside her place as she shut the door behind you. The layout of her place was the complete opposite of yours. Especially her decor. This woman sure loves the color pink since everything displayed, from her kitchen to her living room, was decorated in pink. She’s like the modern day Barbie.

“Sorry ‘bout the place bein’ a mess. Had to work one of those late nights. My regular surprised me and it was a whole party in there. You should come and visit sometime!” She rubs the tip of her cigarette against an ashtray.

“Sure.” You nodded but only because you were being polite. Those places weren’t your forte anyways. There’s absolutely nothing for you to find in there. It’s a place where sugar daddies come and spend their endless cash by just a shake of your ass. Drugs were the main hot spot. It was a safe haven to do anything illegal, really.

Her baby was in his crib playing with toys. He happily squealed the moment he saw you. Oh, he definitely recognized you. You believed that babies can sense your aura within you. At least that’s what your mother has told you.

Walking over to the crib, you leaned over to tickle the side of his neck and he giggled. Your smile was foolishly wide at his playful gesture. Delaney was busy grabbing her cookie jar and noticed you playing with her son. She smiled.

“He’s such an angel. I love him to pieces!” She waves at her son and made funny faces. He giggles again.

“He is adorable.” You mentioned and leaned away as you walked over to sit in a chair Delaney pulls for you at the kitchen counter.

“You want somethin’ to drink? I got water, Cherry Coke, juice, milk, you name it all.”

“A Cherry Coke sounds perfect, please.”

Milk and cookies are actually the perfect combination. But a Cherry Coke? You can’t refuse an offer like that. You aren’t much of a soda type of gal, but when it comes to Cherry Coke, you simply cannot resist.

“The casserole is almost done if you wanna take some with you.” Delaney hands you a plate of her homemade sugar cookies and a cold can of Cherry Coke.

“That’s real kind of you. I appreciate it.” The click of the can opening surrounds the place. The moment the metal pops, that’s where the sizzling sounds of the bubbles begin to fizz. You didn’t hesitate to take a drink, tilting your head back. The carbonation from the sweet drink coats and burns your throat. Your eyes watered when taking your last sip. A small gasp escaping from you.

So refreshing. So satisfying.

“Have you met the new neighbor yet?” Delaney asks. She’s definitely talking about the name you have seen from a letter when you opened the mailbox not too long ago.

“You know I don’t talk to anyone besides you and the landlord.” You swapped a smile into a smirk, chewing on a cookie.

It’s crazy how you know so much about Delaney yet, she knows very little about you. I mean, she can practically tell her entire life story to strangers. She just loves engaging in conversations to the nicest folks she’d meet. But you? You’re insanely private. She doesn’t even know you’ve been released from prison. She doesn’t know about your past indulgence of robberies.

Thankfully, she has her limits.

“He’s such a handsome fella. Very quiet too. He lives just down at the end of the hallway.”

Such emphasis on the word handsome. That explains much. It’s no wonder you haven’t seen any movement, he’s quiet. You weren’t as phased or excited to learn more about him. You rarely try to meet new people, specifically neighbors. Delaney was the only exception since she’s been the first to actually introduce herself unlike the others.

Ding! “Oh!” Delaney squeals with such excitement. “The casserole is finished. Lemme put that in a paper plate for you before this moron gets here.”

Delaney. She’s such a handful and honestly, you appreciate how real she can be.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You and Delaney exchanged hugs and farewells. You walked down from her door, stopping right in front of yours, using your third key to open the lock and turning the knob to open and enter your own place. Shutting the door behind you, you tossed your keys into a ceramic bowl that’s on a table next to you.

You untied your shoelaces and kicked your white chucks off, setting them right besides the door along with your quads. You removed your backpack and tossed it right on the couch as you walked towards your kitchen holding your plastic plate.

As mentioned, the place is the total opposite of Delaney’s. You tend to stick with a chic yet quaint style. Cool tones were your favorite choice of color palettes, especially purple. Any shade of purple draws your attention.

You placed the casserole and the plastic bag with pastelitos inside your fridge. You wanted to keep it there for later since right now, you needed to take a shower and attend some chores. It’s only half past five so you have plenty of time before the sun disappears completely.

You entered your room, your safe haven. Everything was just the perfect mix of purple. Just the way you like it.

You have a massive CD collection you adored. Some you have stolen and others were given to you by the owner of the music shop you worked for. Hell, you even purchased some from time to time since he gives you a good discount. It’s a win-win for all.

At the corner of your room, besides your dresser, were dirty clothes piled up in the corner of your room, inside a plastic ivory basket.

It’s definitely laundry day and you needed everything to be washed and cleaned for the new week tomorrow.

But first, shower time. It’s what you absolutely need.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Having your comfortable loungewear is possibly the best feeling in the entire world. Your hair was picked up with a vibrant scrunchie. You wore your favorite pair of fuzzy slippers that matched your outfit.

Locking the door behind you, you carried the basket with one hand while the other hand tucked inside your pocket, holding onto your keys and a couple of quarters.

It’s already nine and the night came out and played. If it wasn’t for your dog walking gig, you would’ve just stayed home all day playing your Atari. Just a typical lazy Sunday for you.

The fourth and final key was the door to open the laundry room that was located on the first floor. You take a peek through the window on the door and to your disadvantage, there was already someone inside.

Shit.

He already noticed so you couldn’t turn around and disappear like you wanted to so it’s too late. He paid you no attention as you walked inside.

You gathered your dirty clothes on top of an empty washer machine. You wished there was music playing or something because the awkward silence between you and the man was mad. At least there’s the sound of his dryer starting.

Thank god. He’s just beginning to dry his clothes because that means he was leaving. And he did. He left you all alone.

You usually come around this time to wash and dry your clothes because everybody’s inside their homes all locked up and in bed. Oh, you know the tactics.

You inserted three quarters into the slot tray of the washer machine to then proceed and dump all of your dirty clothes inside. You poured some of the liquid detergent into another slot where it’s supposed to be poured into.

Once you had everything settled, you closed the lid and pushed the tray to dump the quarters into a metal box. There was a green light, ready to be used. You pushed the button and heard the click of the lid and the water starting to pour.

It’s going to be around thirty minutes before everything finishes so you can dry. In the meantime, you start heading back to eat Delaney’s casserole.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Boy, you were stuffed with that casserole. You aren’t one to ever eat casserole but you hoped there’s nothing better than the one you just devoured.

Thirty minutes already passed and it's time for you to head downstairs again to place your damp clothes into the dryer.

As you opened the door to your apartment and shut it right behind you while locking it, you heard footsteps approaching. Your immediate reaction was to turn and look at the source of the sound. You swore if it was Delaney’s boyfriend you were going to have a word with him but no. It wasn’t.

It was the same man from the laundry room. Your eyes instantly looked away from his stare and towards the laundry basket he held his clean clothes in.

Your eyes bounced back and he was still staring at you. Why does he look good in this lighting? It’s just the hallway lights illuminating the passageway. That well put stoic expression deemed his appearance unapproachable.

That unkempt tousled salt and pepper hair definitely gives away his age group. Along with white patches that run down his jawline. You’re probably guessing early fifties. Definitely old enough to be your uncle.

Those denim jeans compliments his physique along with his baby blue polo t-shirt neatly tucked inside all pressed against his chest, holding everything together with a black belt.

You perhaps needed to check your vitals because there’s no way you’re now just thinking about all sorts of compliments to this complete random stranger you’ve never—

Wait a minute. It clicks inside of you.

It’s him.

Your new neighbor.

Standing in front of your door, being a quiet weirdo, isn’t going to make him disappear. You slip your keys inside your pocket with your empty laundry basket in the other hand. You stared down to the ground as you walked. Nothing but sounds of footsteps, keys, and quarters jangle altogether.

Stop.

Be confident.

Your eyes adverts from the ground as you look forward, paying no attention to the stranger. Another thought came rushing in your mind. You softly inhaled and exhaled at the idea.

You can’t always hide and be a grouch all the time. Quoting on what your correctional social worker had explained to you, the past doesn’t define who you are. We are all bound to make mistakes and those mistakes can lead us to the right path.

The moment you passed your new neighbor, you decided to open your mouth.

“Have a goodnight!” You smiled at the stranger.

Biggest fucking mistake you could have possibly made. Your smile flipped itself completely upside, transforming into a frown from the way he ignored you.

His brows furrowed as he took one last look at you and your silly little gesture without saying anything in return. His eyes scan your figure completely unamused. He walked towards the end of the hallway to the door on his left and disappeared.

The moment he disappeared you can hear him slam his door shut. You turned around with brows still trying to pierce together. Oh you were livid. You were livid because you were trying to actually be kind when someone just decides to ignore your entire existence.

You were ashamed of yourself because you’ve always been quiet and for once you decided to open your pretty mouth to actually say something nice.

“Fuck you too then.” You scoffed and looked away, still shocked trying to process exactly what happened. You knew damn well he heard you. If he dared return to the laundry room, you’re more than happy to slam your empty basket right across his stupid face.

What was his stupid name on that letter again?

Joel Miller.

A name that was going to stick with you for the remainder of your night.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller au #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #tlou fanfic #joel miller #the last of us

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mpregjohnwinchester · 4 months

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y'know I thought I was all done but I got one more thing to add to my earlier (lengthy -- sorry!) response to the wincest wednesday askbox scattergun, and that's on the topic of familial lexicon:

mundane headcanons, I hear you say? how about this one that is gospel in my heart: there are dozens, if not HUNDREDS, of songs that sam hears in his brother's voice before anybody else's.

there's songs for bathtime and bedtime, songs to make sam sit still while dean clips his sharp little fingernails, songs for when dad's been gone for so many minutes, way past the little hand on the eight and the big hand on the four. there's songs for waiting in the car while dad pumps gas or digs deep holes or lights fires that make dean go pale and a little sweaty, so his palm slides clammy-cold over sam's. there's songs for walking home from school, songs that sam gets to hear vibrating up to where he's perched on dean's shoulders, and songs whispered against his temple when sleep won't come.

(later, when he's older, there's songs for counting cadence during PT and songs for walking back to the fence to reset the pop can targets and songs for when he's fought with dad and screamed himself hoarse. there's songs for hanging out the window to the waist while dean does a conservative seventy-five of roads graded for fifty. there's songs dean sings to and for himself, but he doesn't mind if sam listens in.)

like, for sam, pete seeger didn't sing "little boxes"; dean winchester did. paul simon and art garfunkel didn't sing "cecelia"; dean winchester did. bruce springsteen didn't sing "atlantic city" and arlo guthrie didn't sing "alice's restaurant massacre" and warren zevon didn't sing "roland the headless thompson gunner" (besides, sam's pet theory is that warren's probably a hunter himself, or at least a well-informed civilian); peter schilling didn't sing "major tom" and elvis didn't sing "suspicious minds" and roy orbison didn't sing "all I have to do is dream". joan baez didn't sing "with god on our side" and tom paxton didn't sing "lyndon johnson told the nation" and hoyt acton didn't sing "greenback dollar" and fleetwood mac sure as hell didn't sing "the chain". phil ochs didn't sing "the highwayman" and john denver didn't sing "country roads" and dusty springfield didn't sing "I only want to be with you". dean winchester did; word-perfect, every time.

sam's a connoisseur of the entire dean winchester discography. no matter what anybody else (the radio included) says, sam knows how those song go.

sam knows that the song goes, "my sammy lies over the prairie, my sammy lies over the sea, my sammy lies over the prairie, so bring back my sammy to me"

sam knows that the song goes, "a-round her neck/ she wore a yellow ribbon/ she wore it in the springtime/ and in the month of may/ and if you asked/ her why the hell she wore it/ she wore it for her young marine sent far, far away"

sam knows that the song goes, "I've got some fine memories of san angelo/ and I've seen some beauty queens in el paso/ but the best lookin' women that I've ever seen/ have all been from kansas and all wearin' jeans"

sam knows that the song goes, "we've hauled some barges in our day/ filled with lumber, coal, and hay/ and we know every inch of the way/ from albany to far below"

sam knows that the song goes, "my father was hung as a horse thief/ my mother was burned as a witch/ my seventeen sisters, they run the whorehouse/ and I'm a cocksucking son of a bitch"

sam knows that the song goes, "oh, my darling/ oh, my darling/ oh, my darling clementine/ you are lost and gone forever/ dreadful sorry, clementine"

sam knows that the song goes, "so take my tip before you ship to join the iron gang/ don't be too gay in botany bay, or else you'll surely hang/ "or else you'll surely hang," says he, and after that, jim jones/ way up upon the gallows tree, the crows will pick your bones"

sam know that the song goes, "bye, baby bunting, daddy's gone a-hunting, gone to fetch a gator skin, to wrap his baby bunting in"

(sam's twenty-three and newly dead so he doesn't know the next time a song from dean's back catalogue gets sung in a whisper against the thin skin of his temple, hair pushed back behind his ear so maybe he'll hear: bring back, bring back, oh, bring back my sammy to me, to me; bring back, bring back, oh bring back my baby to me)

!!!! SCREAM! ANON YOU ARE FUCKING *COOKING* this is so beautiful 😭😭😭😭 gosh. I'm screaming. EVERYONE READ WHAT ANON SAID PLEASE BECAUSE MY BRAIN IS REARRANGED BY THIS

#😭😭😭#THE LAST PARAGRAPH #SCREAMING #samdean #wincest Wednesday

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steliosagapitos · 1 year

Photo

- The Cartier Palm Tree Diamond Clip Brooch. -

~ “Set with circular and baguette-cut diamond leaves with briolette-cut diamond coconuts to the pavé-set articulated trunk, 1939, with French assay marks. Signed by Cartier, Paris, no. 07553. Exotic themes were very fashionable in the performing and visual arts of the 1920s and 1930s. The present brooch is the apotheosis of the Art Deco trend towards exoticism. It also represents Cartier at their most creative. Produced in 1939, the manufacture is exquisite. Interestingly, the jewel's form echoes the palm trees cast in a pair of doors by Armand Albert Rateau created for the ‘Pavillon d'Elégance’ at the 1925 ‘Exposition des Arts Décoratifs’. It happened to be the building in which Cartier exhibited, as they chose to forego displaying with the rest of the jewellers in the Grand Palais. A print representing the doors was published in the special edition of the ‘Gazette du Bon Ton’ accompanying the exhibit.” ~

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famej · 2 years

Text

My Angel

Simeon x Reader

Simeon was an angel, meaning he wouldn’t cross any boundaries even regarding his own feelings.

However, he was capable of affection, sure his own sort of affection but in his eyes, it was enough to show people he liked how he felt misbehaving regarding the laws of the lord.

Y/N was a human, meaning she recognized affection in closeness, kisses, hugs and further intimate activities, that she had yet to experience. However, she never felt like using that kind of demonstration of affection in case the feelings weren’t mutual.

The demon brothers were demons, meaning they were fucked up in the head. When they displayed affection it was often strange and unexpected.

But Y/N got used to the brothers’ behavior rather easily. She came to appreciate their own way to show how much they cared about her. However, it never resembled the way Simeon showed her his affectionate side.

The human girl often hung out at purgatory hall with Luke. After the few incidents in the house of lamentation, they became really close and Luke especially asked her to come around whenever she wanted. Most of the time, the little angel would cook for her and they shared with Simeon and Solomon when they came back.

Since those times, Simeon opened up more and more. At RAD, he always seemed out of reach and as if he tried to keep some of his life only for himself. But out of the walls of the academy, you realized that he was a nice person to hang out with. To the point where the two of you made plan without anyone else included.

That time was mostly spent visiting the Devildom, eating, crafting or studying together. Throughout those activities, the signs of affections came slowly and unnoticed at first.

It started by how much time you spent together simply doing the activities mentioned above.

Studying led to reading together. Both of you agreed on a book and shared it, so you’d be on the same page, literally.

One day, you were drawing and your hair kept falling in front of your face. She was way too concentrated to get up and fetch something to them away, so she beared with it. Until Simeon quietly joined her and brushed her hair back with his fingers, o so delicately and used hair clip to maintain them away. The girl looked up at them and offered him a grateful smile before going back to her art.

Due to your after school activities, when the time to go home arrived, the night would have already fallen. Everyone with a right mind knew the Devildom was dangerous for a human, even more at night. And without saying anything, Simeon took the initiative to walk you home, even though it wasn’t much safer for an angel.

Things went a little further when at RAD the two of them were walking around during lunch break and they started laughing at that moment, Simeon took Y/N’s hand in his and lightly held it all the way until they got to class.

Because of your human point of view, you had troubles not to see it as a mark of affection that meant something more than friendship. The angel already had an important place in your heart and now he was making it flutter more than it ever did.

She thought she would have a heart attack when his next display came. Y/N’s time in the Devildom was great most of the time but there still were moments when the human world evoked nostalgia in her. She’d spend lunch alone, leaning against one of the far away tree in the court and let some tears fall and engulfed herself in her sadness so she’d be able to enjoy the good times here that had yet to come.

She was so cut out from the outside world that she didn’t notice Simeon, coming toward her.

He kneeled in front of her and waited when she was ready and when she finally looked up, discovering a blurry angel, Simeon brought his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks in his palms and close the gap between them to place his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes and stayed like this.

“It’s alright cry if you need. I’m here for you”

That’s all she need to close her eyes and let her feelings overwhelm her. She quietly sobbed, maintaining her forehead against Simeon and she held his forearm like she was holding onto the only thing that could save her.

And maybe he was, the angel that made her so weak and yet feel so strong.

#Obey Me!#obey me! shall we date?#Simeon #simeon x reader #simeon imagine #otome #otome game

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nonepizzaleftgirl · 2 years

Text

Over 2 years ago now, I made an analysis post trying to stitch together a layout for the city based on the few shots we had at the time. Now that the demo is available and I can walk around in the hub, I thought to revisit that post! I'll be following that post's structure and comparing it with the final release as I go. Note that some differences can be chalked up to the fact that the hub is currently undergoing Splatfest preparations.

In the initial post, I speculated that the piggy bank building might have something to do with Salmon Run—that is obviously wrong with the hindsight we have now, but I should note that the building next to it with the orange and yellow logo that I assumed to be Grizzco-related is closed down currently and may open up in a future update or DLC and become relevant then.

Also, as you can see, the piggy bank used to be way more in the back than it is now - its front feet were even clipping into the left wall! Whereas now, it's stretching out over the buildings.

I correctly predicted that the piggy bank was down this side path. Looking back at the trailer, you can actually see the hat shop up on the balcony on the left, in addition to Ammo Knights below it, which could be seen pretty clearly from the prerelease footage. Hotlantis seemed to have been closed at the time of the prerelease footage, though notably it seems that they always intended to implement it, as the logo stayed the same, even if it is at a different location now:

Given that they stated that Harmony took over the store from its absent owner, it's cute to think that in-universe, the store was abandoned and closed-down two years ago, though that is almost definitely not the actual reason why it was closed in prerelease.

Additionally, the Recon Guide was missing entirely from the prerelease footage. It's likely that they still used the Splatoon 2 recon system at the time, or perhaps the expanded recon was entirely hidden within a Lobby menu.

The chicken statue on the left seemed to have been entirely missing from prerelease footage. Additionally, a palm tree was added, as well as Deep Cut's recording studio. From this shot, you can actually see signs advertising the hat shop on the balcony even as far back as the prerelease footage!

From the trailer, I speculated that the building next to the truck was some sort of delievery building due to the motorcycle on its logo. In the final version, the truck is gone entirely, though the logo remains, so this could be to make place for Splatfest registration. Additionally, the mailbox that lets you send drawings was already visible in prerelease footage.

I had a lot of trouble initially placing this area, because it looks very different now! The little staircase is gone entirely (instead, there's a slope hidden behind the buildings on the right, which actually seems to have been there all along, going by the slant of the prerelease ledge), a bunch of textures changed around, the blue sign location changed… I initially had a lot of trouble placing this back alley, but I did eventually figure out correctly that it was underneath the piggy bank. It now leads to Tableturf Battle.

This area! So much changed here. While the train station and battle tower are still in the same location, there is now a duck statue on top of the train station. I wonder if this was hidden from prerelease footage to hide the fact that we now have three idols? Since we now have three statues in the duck, the snake, and the piggy bank... Additionally, Deep Cut's recording studio is now between them, where there used to be empty space.

But perhaps most tragically... the art installation from the prerelease footage is completely gone! I'll miss you, squid-shaped art installation...

As you can see from this mockup I made back then, it turned out to be pretty close! The traditional building, delievery building, train station, and back alley building seem to have no purpose in the final game, the modern art installation got removed entirely, and I was wrong about just how much of the bottom left was blocked off. Nonetheless, I am happy at how much of the layout was able to be gained from just these few shots.

Tell me if I missed any other significant hub changes between prerelease and now!

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #analysis #prerelease

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paisleygirljewelry · 11 months

Link

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Dainty Palm Tree Post Earrings Green Brown Tropical Vibes New.

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artseducation2024 · 1 year

Text

Identity - Mimi Franklin

Every class begins with a prompt following an activity which is what I look forward to every time I walk into the cozy, carpeted, wide spaced room. The artist that sparked the question, how do you create an atmosphere of experimental learning when demonstrating the use of new and challenging materials and media? was Ana Teresa Fernández. Ana Teresa Fernández is a Mexican American artist born in Tampico, Mexico, where she now lives and works in San Francisco, California. Based on the prompt, her chosen material was the Mexico-United States border fence in Nogales, Sonora. With the help of volunteers, she painted the fence with a light blue paint that matched the sky, making it nearly invisible from afar. By doing so, she created an atmosphere of learning about migrant rights by demonstrating that there should be no border and thus “launched a project to “erase” the Mexico-United States border fence” (Neuendorf, 2015).

Following the brief presentation on the above artist, the activity was that students would create identity portraits using collage materials. The goal of the identity portraits is to explore the use of different materials available. The project was new to me. At first, I was confused about where to even begin. So naturally, the first tool I picked up was scissors, and then I walked around the table looking at the various magazines stacked to get an idea. The goal was to create an identity portrait, so I decided to make a collage of my hobbies and places I enjoy spending my time. So, I flipped through the various magazines selecting images I felt best described me. Once finished, I took the clippings with me, grabbed a white sheet of paper, and sat down at the table. As the class began working on their collage’s music was playing in the background. Part of the reason this was my favorite arts education activity, aside from the part that it is enjoyable, is it gets one thinking about their identity. At first, I was kind of nervous and shy about describing myself with magazine clippings and trusting that I would be able to express myself accurately. Ergo, the activity was challenging because I was using materials that were difficult for me to harness my imagination. Yet, while cutting, shaping, and moving around the pieces I chose on the paper, I realized how imaginative the activity was. Not being bound by strict definitions of materials, I was able to create a piece I felt proud of, hence the photo. From the image below, you can see clippings of a passport since I love traveling, sunglasses, palm trees, and coffee shops. I wanted to convey the idea of warm weather and good times sending the message that I am thankful I have the freedom to do so.

Works Cited:

Neuendorf, Henri. “Artist Paints Mexico-US Border Fence Sky Blue - Artnet New.” Artnet News, 16 Oct. 2015, https://news.artnet.com/art-world/artist-paints-us-mexico-border-fence-339990.

“Bio.” Ana Teresa Fernandez, 21 Sept. 2021, https://anateresafernandez.com/bio-2/.

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libidomechanica · 2 years

Text

“Dear pig, are you hold Thee”

A limerick sequence

When my God, nor cry’d: and it will side. Or currants had not in thy willing souls! Dear pig, are you hold Thee! So I went angel whom Iron doores do witness tell.

I found her een her pearls pale and you have, has growin’ yet. Ah then adieu! For I have comes the flocks, and they are, and manna dew; and should love bear the pas—the cops.

Those delight, continues cold. Hath the house, four naive ties? With will soon had, as the rest. A fountain smoking voice I see things as were gnawed away in a column.

Each virtue answer ere his art my haruest bars the stars blaze, come not as I roll, suck my freshness divine his may hold in thine eye or ears for my heart, the faith!

Then holding to this use I lose for the story attests that which he known into Reasons audite I do. Which service and both bare with one benefit of heart.

It will more free, all sleeps in his beads to pay; and bonfires of diamonds fine, her with other. Thou dove-like flower to the roes, and whistle, whether whisper’d, fly!

Since men are not rose fast as this is thy noble fire we had a husband, after and sea. Of invocation was surprising into caves, with many I knew.

I country can breath say, with all hold sword upon desire, talking in the milder intermingly family history, the break? The lang days: and if I euer lash!

Expired winds have much; a gift prevail the faint colonies enter and all things. A human tenant of the Thirty-three of counsel me, O: may ill be forgiv’n.

An’ has no disturbed from the was strongest said with thy beauties blot; let him grace, and second come hither, O fault, who live. That thou God of us that shall I say?

And he feebly glared the fair from a stagnant tide till I burn. Sparkle lang day I said with them all of flies, let not you are drawes to nerve it; and stricture her.

Only give you felt close heart, and her heard about. Last human, must prized among men, puzzled Faith with me nature imitate; and to hont? Stroke ye to side the Braine.

Memory, while thy Hand: withdraw Thee just as fine; but, swoll’n with the antique, thou would’st they break? To kiss upon they walk’d; if he had no wild flower with final rest!

To inspires; and of invocation. I will last indecency; but Destiny and grew pale: heav’nly- pensive her souls shall they’re barren of charms made love: question.

Keeps register, my selfe this. That crown of charms, and damning them. On Sunday more—pulling flare under my heart have parting stars or late action, pulse their head had thee.

And is my loved as on the will acquaint— strangle a lithe board to marrying, clamour and far, I am happy, honest face at night. And unjoin, be love: quest.

Any guest, clips strength seem strong as you might next morning Thoughts black as a seal of sleepe, and comfort. Theory afterglow as the ceiling. The winter child at me!

Who whiff it. I sweare by rage possessions, too, the roes, and there; or she, in sickly too? Of soldier told me as Divine cages for the palm tree, the roses fly!

Have had he knew that I was certainment pour from which makes him called heav’n I love her; and sentiment; which made thy hand catch. And best of lost as eager thought in thee.

And whisper’d, fly! Men and bite back in the little time, I come, thou art may return, join and grave man I lose those tears or glowing? On which how them through to master.

Shorn, weak race of false world was gone; Within the deeper. Where did giue; they list the chilliest from a select and denied its cruel coxcomb, in his Supremacy.

To teach tears mix’d Gothic Babel of a million. Catch not look appeared the maps the snow, as whence with dew, and Fashion, were to be, and the lips and the shoes. And you.

Love approach’d my whimsies; but I found there: o keeper was low, and purple blossomed Muses’ love you, Love. The next generous, resume, thou presence gies to bee.

The apples: for I will very sun than mine. Get no more than Nanie, O. Sometimes careful was but once gone, to the forest of the top, he is so brimful of dawn.

Unequal young, because to mute and pale and Mrs. Where thou art forget that wasn’t a disaster. That appear be in a vision of Marlborough’s martial feasts.

Arsenic, arsenic, arsenic, arsenic, arsenic, arsenic, arsenic, such are not revere: most suspense from my soul may take. The vales and a leg.

Tis the cottage down she stars or glowing echoes broke up and bright have parted. When I thy plane, imagining tongue that I did not touch’d, but her in Florida.

Like a basketball. So clear prime forest; for their ruffled locks where be none other mind;—’God save them, from human heart droop there, entered an old tale Arabian.

Rife with should fain him at a trice: what in the balloons rest: if at moral taught my woe? Archimedes said, ’twas not an early tread, and the grave! Every day, wretch!

Your visions private affairs appear where I dream of deathly ache; till then? Hart rouse: such I might’st him in thee. Or papers echoes— like a mere mode of nation sounde.

The watch, and Baskets of frankincense. Many a snake, knowledge, and press my love, I lose that it simple trees and pride, he laid, or wander story I am old?

To change maladies a strange rest. My beloved’s, and sighed, but that is this the left behind yonder his desired, a maze of amendment, this is strong. I wound?

The golden urn. An old old woman’s voice I see the view, repentant sky, while the scanty strings, queens, and both together. The runaway boy when t was a chime.

Who lived presence to the golden dreamed of champagne? He laid on train but took my staff stood at any thine their days about on the session spreads around a strange route.

Invincible sport, and wide, I call our childe to speak out. When I speak plains of Dura, reaping all things which flag, with apparel me relief; ah, more I return.

That dawn that I did many a short- legged of thys stounding the window, half a hardened lava. In all Minds beside. For the turn around him not of Abelard!

And forest wyde, without shadows flee away, the love you deeply by ourself known. Assist me, Heav’n I lose expressive nuptial song and grew like dust we parted.

Kind to every same, counting bird thin, those rose on my beauties yet unborn. But I know; so never was melted care of marble Attic. It is fidelity.

At the waves, and gay, living Love of our bed will ye. This wat’ry floor to and flits the wood a Piggy, I will not beautiful pea greens I picked my very night?

There was welcome away, where all the grosser sense enough, the Braine. Hand doors, taking within her breathing as the hopes first, and cinnamon, without these ruined walls!

At a presence, whilst I stay; sad proof display’d. Looked around and always premising soul love you beckon from another meet but if one to shift, my spouse Nancy.

I love you get no motion of the nights, rooks, on whose grace was I in his toil, and gone; and pastures to give me thy mouths should this westerns as one. You walk with me.

In gazing on dinner; and Lord Henry also there he use or seem but a license doth not breast. Also my limbs their churl, make som pleas’d to shift the world’s great cruel.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #187 texts #limerick sequence

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