Shou was raised around kind of a ‘simple but stylish’ ideal; when he got a piercing he only got one, and he only got enough studs to always have an appropriate one (silver, gold, diamond, and his birthstone - turquoise).
It started with just the occasional broken pair, but by now Shou probably has like, 35 different earrings from Teru pinned to a banner in his room. Wears a different one every day.
SPECIAL FEATURE ALERT: This is a reader-interactive fic, so in the box below, if you enter a name (yours or a character’s, for example), and click “submit”, it will swap out “Y/N” for that name. Y/L/N stands for “your last name.” None of the information entered is stored. This feature does not work on dashboard/feed/mobile app unfortunately.
Halfway through the drive, Y/N unfroze, and she knocked his knee with hers. Mark looked over in surprise to find her looking at him.
“Hey, Mark,” she said, “I have a secret to tell you.”
He raised a brow, wondering where she was going with this. “Yes?”
“I hate coffee.”
“Ah,” he exhaled. “Well, that could make this outing significantly less fun. Is there something else you want to do?”
Y/N looked at him out of the corner of her eye with a smile like devil’s. “Wanna get married?”
POV – 7 AM
The pawn shop was small and
empty of people, but crowded with merchandise. Mark ducked beneath some rugs hanging on display from
the ceiling with Y/N following immediately behind. There was a light in her
eyes that hadn’t been there earlier, and it added a new softness to her usual
Happiness looks good on her, he thought
to himself as he maneuvered through the clutter. He’d seen her smile on every
social media page, but this was different. This was life pouring out of her.
to the walls was a variety of strange things like stuffed deer heads and what
looked like stolen street signs, and the metal shelves sitting around the store
were lined with other random baubles and trinkets. Mark passed several pairs of
mismatched shoes, outdated computer hard disks, snow globes, a dusty saxophone,
porcelain Buddha figurines, and more. Useless junk, but Y/N seemed fascinated,
running her fingers over things and even pausing to study others. At one point,
she picked up an old book with a pentagram embossed on the cover and leafed
through it, shooting Mark a sly look.
summon a demon on our wedding night?” she chuckled. He just smiled but in his head,
he thought to himself, I’d do anything
kids looking for anything in particular?” a voice rang out, and they both
glanced over at the counter where an old, rednecky man sat with a half-finished
you got any rings?” Y/N asked, pulling Mark along when the man gestured to the
glass counter in front of him.
got all kinds,” he told them as they peered at the display. He did, indeed.
Class rings and purity rings, brass and sterling, chipped diamonds and precious
stones and plastic. “What kind are you thinking?”
Y/N grinned. “The biggest, gaudiest stone you have. Something that screams ‘OH
SHIT, THEY’RE GETTING MARRIED’ and also that we might be insane. Oh, and it
shouldn’t cost more than twenty-five dollars.”
Roses Are Red, But So Are Gingers: A Valentine's Day Short
It was Valentine’s Day and Jerome did everything in his power to make sure you were happy. He was always sweet to you, but every time February came around, he would only get sweeter. Jerome was currently in the kitchen making you your favorite breakfast food. His red robe swayed with his hips as he danced to a tune.
“Morning, Ginger.” You chuckled, looking at his dance moves. “Nice moves if I do say so myself.”
“Doll face.” He smirked, with his back to you. “Happy Valentine’s Day! Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Smells good, but you promised me something fun this year.” You sang.
“Yes! Right after breakfast! It is the most important meal of the day…well after you.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Hardy har har.” You nudged him. Grabbing yourself a plate, you sat at the table and Jerome sat across from you.
“So, I was thinking,” Jerome started, digging into his pancakes with a knife and fork. “How about we wreck some havoc on Gotham?”
“Gotham’s dull, but it’s night life sure isn’t. How about we go on a killing spree instead? After all it is Valentine’s Day. Why not paint the town red?” You mischievously smiled, taking the knife and stabbing the table with it.
Jerome sighed. “You are so sexy when you speak like that.” He dropped his knife and fork on his plate and stood up. “What the heck! Why not?! We should get ready now.”
“But its only morning, Jerome. What are we gonna do until then?” You said, taking the dishes to the sink.
“I have a few things in mind.” He eyed the bedroom.
“It’s only eleven…we have a few long hours to kill.” You smirked. “But I do feel the need to take a shower alone.” Laughing, you took off all of your clothes and ran to the bathroom.
Jerome chuckled darkly, running after you. You of all people should know not to tease me, Mrs. Valeska!“
Eventually you two passed the time with some holiday romance, keeping not one sound to yourselves. The next door neighbor and next door neighbor’s next door neighbor, wouldn’t let you two hear the end of it. So of course you and Jerome went to pay them a visit.
“Mwah!” Jerome kissed his finger tips. “A masterpiece if I do say so myself!” He looked towards the once white walls that were now covered from top to bottom in deep red blood.
After giving Miss Bailen one last stab to the heart, you walked towards Jerome and mesmerized your “artwork” together.
“I agree. How much you think it’d sell for?”
“A million smackers at least.” He chuckled.
“Van Gogh has nothing on us!” You laughed. “Now come on. We have a few more neighbors to take care of. Then we terrorize Gotham.”
Jerome only smirked. “Again…that turns me on.”
Body after body forced off of buildings, by the two of you. Innocent, guilty, you could care less. The piercing screams, blood, and thrill of the kill was the only thing you needed. In only two hours, you and Jerome managed to kill 40 people. No bombs, just pure skill…in murdering others.
A woman was knelt down in front of you begging for her life. “Pl-please don’t kill me! You can have my money! Take it!”
“Ooooh let’s see how much we got here. 1, 2, 3-3000 dollars. Can you believe they busy carry this on them?” Jerome said waving the wallet around.
“She’s rich, babe. Check out her necklace. They’re real diamonds. Very expensive too. And that’s a good thing too. Cheap jewelry always breaks me out.” You said, with a sinister tone in your voice.
“Bu-but my grandmother she-” The lady cried.
“-Is probably rolling around in the grave somewhere. Now give her the diamonds or I blow your brains out.”
“Thank you!” You told her putting the necklace on. “It really compliments my skin tone.”
“Ready to go?” Jerome asks you, putting a few more dollars in his pants.
“Yep. Now can we say Bye Bye Birdie to Ann Margaret here already?”
“Eh why not?” And with a pull of the trigger, the rich woman falls off of the building.
A satisfied smile on your face, you took Jerome’s hand and you both hurried down to the car.
“Wait wait wait! I wanna frame this!” You took a picture of the dead bodies and laughed. “Okay now we can go.
“This is why I love you, (y/n).” He kissed you, before driving off.
“We’re just like Bonnie and Clyde, aren’t we?” You asked.
“Well of course we are. The famous crime duo.” Jerome smiled. “The only difference is they’re dead and we’re alive!”
“Jim! You gotta see this!” Harvey screamed to him.
From atop the building that death fell from, your message was red with blood.
“HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY GOTHAM!” It read.
Jim only looked at Harvey in answer. He knew you two weren’t coming back unless you had a good reason. “They’re done here. They won’t be back anytime soon. Let’s go, Harv.”
That night, Gotham went up in flames. The GCPD just couldn’t catch the two of you. Love, screams, and death was in the air. And nothing could have ever smelled better.
After staying up into the wee hours of the morning, my amulet project is finished. After I sold the last Seth amulet I made, I knew two things:
I had to make another, and it had to be bigger.
The red beads are vintage reclaimed coral, the curved tusk is from a domestic pig and was given to me by my grandpa (who was a rural farm vet) the center stone is a red opal that looks like an eye. Seth is scrimshawed onto a piece of woolly mammoth ivory.
All of it soldered together and strung up very carefully. I never thought when I first started making doofy little string necklaces years ago that I would ever make something like this.
This one isn’t for sale, not ever. I can take custom orders for necklaces similar to it, but they take a long time to complete and are not cheap.
I worked at a fairly cheap costume jewelry/accessories store in the mall.
One holiday season they had us wear Santa hats, red sequined, which had “naughty” on one side and “nice” on the other. We all thought they were cute and funny, and we had the “nice” side facing forward.
Until one day, a middle aged man came in (which was rare for this store, our customers were almost exclusively women under 40), wandered around for a few minutes, then stopped in front of the counter, blatantly looked myself and my coworker up and down (I was 17, she was 20) and said “‘Nice,’ huh? Why not ‘naughty’?”
We laughed it off uncomfortably and said something along the lines of “haha, we’re just nice I guess.”
“Shame. I’d like to see the naughty.” And then he walked out.
At another job (home decor store), I found that the (extremely outdated) website they used to send out the schedule didn’t play nice with my computer. I called and told one of the managers (Manager J) what the problem was, and said I’d use the school computers to check my schedule whenever I could, but could someone please call me if I was scheduled in the next week or so? She said sure. After two weeks of radio silence, I called to see if I was scheduled. “Uh…..you don’t work here anymore. You missed two shifts, that’s automatic termination.”
Eventually, thanks to my frantic, near tears “what??? But I talked to Manager J?” it was chalked up to a misunderstanding, and I worked there for a couple months.
One time, I was scheduled to open, (something I hadn’t ever done at this store) and when I got there, all the doors were locked. This particular store was unusual in that ¾ walls in the building were glass, so I could see the entire store except for the back office. There was no one there. I triple checked that I was on time (five minutes early, even!) and then called the store, figuring if someone was in the back office they’d pick up. About ten minutes later, the manager I was scheduled with finally picked up and then came to let me in, seeming very surprised to see me. I was a little thrown off and asked if I had read the schedule wrong. “No, no. I saw you were scheduled to open with me, but Manager J said you probably wouldn’t show, so I already called someone to fill in for you.” After a few awkward attempts to get an explanation I gave up.
I ended up working that shift anyway (I was marked late!) but after that week I was never on the schedule again. By that point I was fed up with that store for a lot of reasons, so I was willing to quietly be fired and just mourn the opportunity to put the experience on my resume. I guess I had somehow offended Manager J? For whatever reason she seemed out to get me fired. I’ve spend a lot of energy wondering what I ever did to her…
As a fashionista, you always make statements wherever you go. It may not always be out loud but it will be known. Fashion is more than just materials. Fashion is in the mind, the body and it is the soul beyond your wildest dreams. It’s not about setting or following the latest trends. You make your mark when you walk into a room. You did and have done it all. If you haven’t, you surely know you are getting there. Fashionista’s do not crave attention, they just get it uninvited. All heads turn when you make that first step out the door. You have a keen eye for the best, you can put together an ensemble without a doubt. There’s no hesitation, no demurral, or uncertainty of anything. In your own skin, you are the best at it and most importantly you BELIEVE that you are what you wear. That is the definition of a true Fashionista!