#Classic Mani & Pedi

[petitpiedgalbe]

Red Rose :)

The roses are red and Albert need to rest...

Wood Guys are looking for a chest...

And I am going to do my best.

[herespaaa]

Discover Superior Nail Services at HereSpa: Gel Mani & Pedi, Classic Manicure, and More.

Unveil the epitome of nail perfection at HereSpa. Explore our comprehensive range of services, including gel manicures, classic manicures, restorative manicures, acrylic sets, and SNS dip powder treatments for nails that speak volumes.

[omgthatdress]

To get into the first looks that were made for Barbie, we need to understand the beauty and fashion of 1959.

1950s fashion existed under that shadow of World War II. Women of the war era were hardy, hard-working, and practical. Fashion was also extremely practical, using as little rationed material as possible. The silhouette was boxy, masculine and almost military, with big broad shoulders and knee-length skirts. Rationing and austerity continued in the years immediately following the war, but then in 1947, something miraculous happened:

(The Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Christian Dior created “The New Look.” Now okay, fashion in general had been leaning into this new silhouette and Dior was far from the only designer to be working with it, but his was the most copied and most iconic.

“The New Look” was a call back to the sumptuous femininity of the mid-Victorian era, bringing back tiny waists held in place by impossibly tight corsets and big, full skirts with crinolines and hoops. 

The silhouette was a return to classic femininity, but the materials garments themselves were pure modernity: a practical ensemble for a wealthy woman-on-the-go who was lunching with her friends in Paris.

Looking back at Barbie’s 1959 looks, Christian Dior’s fingerprints are all over them, but I see plenty of other designers in the mix, as well. It’s actually very easy to find near-matches of almost all of Barbie’s 1959 looks with a cover of Vogue from the 1950s. Barbie from the get-go was an idealized woman who existed in a world that was separate from the middle-class American suburbs that the little girls who played with her lived in.

Looking at classic first-run Barbie, there’s honestly not a whole lot to say about the bathing suit look. I mean, yeah, that’s what fashionable women wore to the beach in the 1950s. Her buxom curvy body fit the idealized standards epitomized by Marilyn Monroe.

Her face has the heavy makeup that was worn by French fashion models of the time.

Arched, heavily-styled brows, eyeshadow, slightly winged eyeliner, mascara, and of course perfect red lips with matching mani and pedi. One of my pet peeves about vintage style is when people wear winged eyeliner as “50s housewife glam.” NO. Your average middle class American Mrs. Homemaker was not wearing that kind of makeup. Winged eyeliner in the 50s only had a small wing that accentuated the eyelashes, and was generally only worn by the high-fashion crowd. Maybe on a special extra glamorous date with Mr. Husband, but not to a church potluck. Anyway, end of rant, but you see that’s what Barbie is trying to emulate.

Her hair, however is different: the poodle hairstyle was one favored by teenage girls. Seen here on the squeaky-clean America’s sweetheart, Debbie Reynolds:

The playful, youthful hair pulls her back and keeps her from being *too* grown-up. It’s the first step in the balancing act that Barbie has always pulled off with aplomb: to represent adulthood without being too far out of reach of children’s imaginations.

[hxrukii]

Hi, lovely human! Saw ur reqs open so Imma give u a prompt! Vil x fem!reader (platonic), she has that typical queen bee attitude like in that classic Mean Girls film (Ily, Rachel McAdams) & is a public-speaker:3 I wonder how their duo would turn out! Besties ending, finger-crossed. Ty, lavya

❝Get in losers, we're going shopping.❞

╭・๑ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲︰ʚ Vil Scheonheit with a Queen B!Reader.‧₊˚✦

‧₊˚↷ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬)┊❝ Vil Scheonheit ❞ ⸜⸜*

↷︰ʚ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ‧₊˚✦ Reader is female and is implied to be Yuu. This was kinda hard since I never actually watched Mean Girls, only seen clips and stuff but I hope I did good lmao

╰・𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) ‧₊˚꒰ Platonic ɞ‧✦

Vil Schoenheit and Queen B!Reader would either be the bestest of friends or each other's sworn enemies fr

Like one moment they're arguing about who's outfit is the best, and the next they're judging someone's outfit and agreeing with each other.

When they get into an argument it would probably be something like where a person goes "That doesn't look flattening on you." And the other would respond with "Oh yeah? Well I didn't ask." Or something, though they know that the other just wants them too look their best, even if it's not the best way to show it.

Would definitely, 100% go on a spa day together, with mani-pedi and all that.

I feel like Vil and Queen B!Reader would scare and annoy the shit out of Epel, like they always want to dress him up much his dismay and would also give him the longest scolding of his life if he as much as annoy them.

The two of them would talk about different fashion trends from their respective words and judges them.

Vil himself isn't into gossip very much, but would definitely listen quietly whenever Queen B!Reader has any gosip they overheard to share.

Shopping sprees every week 100%, sometime Rook would even accompany the two of them.

The two of them would definitely be Crewel's preferred students, especially if Queen B!Reader still has decent/good grades and attendance, if not then he would prefer Vil more but definitely wouldn't mind Queen B!Reader's presence all that much, especially since studying for something from another world they never knew probably isn't no easy task.

The three of them, Vil, Crewel and Queen B!Reader will sometimes have brunch with each other, when Vil and Crewel aren't busy ofc, and talk about fashion and stuff.

"So last time you were talking about a fashion trend from your time, something called Y2K fashion if I'm not wrong? What exactly is it about?"

꒰ ◁ ꒱┊❝Back to Vil's Masterlist❞

[coqxettee]

Summer Glow-Up Guide (Part 1) 🌞

In’s & out ‘s & wardrobe essentials

How to ACTUALLY glow-up for Summer or during Summer (it’s never too late to implement healthy habits into your lifestyle) 🐚🌊🌺

Summer In’s & Out’s:

Ins: Outs:

- Limiting screen time - Doom scrolling

- Journaling daily - Overthinking

- Meditation & yoga daily - Lying in bed

- A healthy diet & balance - Skipping meals

- 7K- 10K steps a day - Staying indoors

- Reading daily - Binging TV

- Tan, moisturise & SPF - Sleeping in makeup

- Getting 8-10hrs of sleep - Staying up late

- Drink your H20 - Sugary soda/alcohol

- Quality clothes that fit - Fast fashion pieces

- Mani & Pedi done 💅🏼 - Unkempt nails/details

- Signature scent - Forgetting perfume & sprays

- Tidy, organised room - Cluttered space

- A Morning & Night routine - Being unorganized

The wardrobe:

It’s important to capture the essence of what you want your Summer wardrobe to look like and emulate. Do you want to be more on the classic side? Or maybe you prefer girly pink fits, or maybe even both! You don’t have to fit into a certain box with your fashion, but figuring out a certain style for that specific season is a great way to start. Personally for me, I like sticking to a color palette that speaks to me for summer. Hyper-feminine colors like Pinks, Whites, Creams, and pastel colors such as yellow, blue, and even tropical green with gold accents can create such a classic and “old money” look too. Just make sure that whatever you are wearing makes you feel your best, because when you feel your best you look your best . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Summer Wardrobe essentials 🐚:

Bikini’s in neutral colors/One piece swimsuit

Beach Sarongs/Cover up’s

Cami’s/Vest tops/Crop tops/Milkmaid tops

Off the shoulder tops

Strapless tops

A thin cardigan (for those odd chilly moments)

Slip dresses

Linen blouses/blue stripy blouse/plain white t-shirt

Linen trousers/Yacht shorts

Maxi skirts/Mini skirts/Skorts (Floral dresses, evening dresses)

Light wash jeans/denim shorts

Maxi dresses/Mini dresses/Milkmaid dresses

Dungarees (light wash)

A wide sun hat (bonus points if it has a bow)

Tote bags/wicker bags/hessian bags

Neckties

Decorative sandals/Ballet flats/mary janes/evening heels (kitten heels are in at the moment)

Gold jewellery (if your a silver girly stick with that)

Shell jewellery/Seaside motifs (if you are more of a tropical girly and love anything with seaside motifs include these into your outfits, I loveeee shell necklaces)

Thin Brown belts

A watch (not a necessity but they are so classy and timeless)

Hair bandana’s, claw clips, flowers for your hair (you can get fake hibiscus flowers and I think they just look so summery and cute)

[raisin-writes]

Asking to paint their nails- Donquixote family:

sfw, no warnings, just for sillies :) read as platonic but can also be read as romantic (minus sugar- i dont care that shes 22- and dellinger, dont be a weirdo).

Doflamingo:

He prefers to call in a nail tech and have a little mani-pedi spa day with you instead.

It's nothing personal, he appreciates the thought, but if hes gonna get his nails done, he wants it to be professional.

Wants you to match with him more often than not and gets a little mad when you refuse to, but wont hold it against you for very long.

A classic french tip girlie but may mix it up with a nice pink or a light glitter overlay from time to time.

Trebol:

He'll allow it, but god does he make it an insufferable experience.

He loves messing with you by intentionally making his hand twitch/flinch/shake.

"Bweheheheh! oops, guess you gotta start over now!"

He'll finally stop when you threaten inform him that you only have so much nail polish remover left and he'll end up with messy, ugly, clumpy nails that you wont be able to fix.

He's fine with whatever you give him, just dont make it look stupid.

Diamante:

Absolutely!

He's tickled that you would want to spend time with him like that.

Requests things like flashy white or gold stars, sparkly reds, or a nice baby blue to match his eyes.

A little bit of a stickler about your technique, but he wont be too hard on you if you mess up.

It's just nail polish after all.

Surprisingly will want to paint yours in return to match his.

His technique is ironically not that great.

Pica:

...... Reluctantly agrees.

He's silent as he watches you work, but his gaze is very intimidating and scrutinous.

Kind of a mouth breather, dont comment on it or he'll get mad at you.

If you ask him very nicely, he'll let you experiment on his toe nails, painting them however you want.

He's satisfied with a simple matte dark purple, but his favorite is a metallic gold- not the regular nail polish, but the holographic powder, he likes the shiny chrome finish.

Vergo:

Some days he'll say yes, sometimes its just not a good time.

He's a busy guy, he doesnt have all the time in the world to sit down and let you fiddle with his nails.

Sometimes he just doesnt want his nails painted and thats that.

On the off chance he agrees, he prefers a simple solid black or a plain white.

Giolla:

Yes, but she's such a karen about it.

So passive-aggressive and indecisive.

Makes you never want to paint her nails again.

Likes loud, contrasting colors and sometimes fun stencil patterns.

She usually compliments your work after its over, but will sometimes make a back-handed comment if she isn't completely satisfied with the results.

Lao G:

Surprisingly agrees to it.

However, shaky hands make for many mistakes.

Dont bother putting a top coat on.

regardless of the outcome, he'll give you a thumbs up and a "GREAT WITH A CAPITAL G!"

Gladius:

Bully him into it a little and he'll cave.

He's used to this, having been the test subject for a younger Baby 5 when she first got into nails.

At least you seem to know what you're doing, comparatively.

Prefers plain black but can be swayed into dark colored marbling with gold flecks.

Machvise:

Another test subject for young Baby 5's nail journey, and Dellinger's.

He thinks it's funny to walk around with bright, obnoxious nails, but really could care less what you give him.

He actually kinda liked the time you gave him pizza slice nails.

Draws the line at press-on nails.

Sugar:

Allows it, but will very bluntly tell you you're doing it wrong.

The best compliment you will get from her is, "its not the worst."

She likes when you put cute stickers and stencils on a pretty pastel blue color.

Señor Pink:

Needs to be lead to believe it was his idea, otherwise the answer is no.

Watches intently, doesnt speak much.

Sucks his pacifier suddenly from time to time and the sound in the otherwise silent room makes you flinch.

He doesnt have any preferences, but appreciates when you make the color match his bonnet.

Might make you do his toe nails too so they match.

Viola:

Of course!

Her favorite is a dark mauve with white hand-painted flowers on the thumbs and/or ring fingers.

Dont worry if you cant paint the flowers correctly, she still appreciates it all the same.

She'll ask to paint yours in return.

Dellinger:

Slay 💅✨

You can use his nail polish.

Teases you if you mess up but genuinely starts to get annoyed if you make too many mistakes.

Likes cat-eye and holographic effects; don't worry, hes got the magnets and powders for it.

If he's feeling generous, he'll return the favor, but he might give you what he thinks would look good instead of what you want.

Buffalo:

Nuh-uh, no way.

......... Unless?

Easy to bribe into getting his nails painted.

Lets you paint them however you want, as long as you fullfill your end of the deal.

Baby 5:

Yes!!!

She loves getting her nails painted.

She'll even paint yours, however you want them!

She likes lace tips, but can easily be swayed if you think something else would look better on her.

(Please be kind to her; if you really must, meet her in the middle so she still gets what she wants.)

Bonus:

Bellamy:

Beg him over the course of a week and he'll eventually cave, but only his toe nails where nobody will see them.

Prefers plain black or navy blue colors.

Is very fidgety and uncomfortable the entire time.

(ironically, he doesnt like people touching his feet (he's ticklish))

Groans and complains, asking every 5 minutes if you're done yet.

Such a big baby.

Corazon:

Yes!!!

He's giddy at the thought, he would love for you to paint his nails.

Really, he just likes the quality time he gets to spend with you.

His favorite is a dark plum color with soft pink heart stencils.

He'll offer to paint yours in return, but knowing him, he'll just end up spilling a bottle or two.

Or three.

[wileys-russo]

After seeing Alexia dancing bc I literally did not know that ever existed! What are some hobbies of Fresa (btv or ftv) we know she wasn’t into soccer but what are things she was/is truly passionate about? Can’t wait to see more of your writing regardless of what it is! 🤍

Fresa took up tennis when she was younger in place of football, like early high school years. She saw how much passion and pleasure alexia gained from football and definitely had the potential to go far in tennis but lacked the discipline. The real reason she took it up was to hopefully get her sisters to come to her matches but with their own lives and schedules it was hard and as Fresa grew up she lost the love for tennis and quit.

I’ve said it before but Fresa takes her skin care and her pampering very seriously. She loves face masks, massages, mani/pedi’s, her elaborate ten step skin care routine, and her spa days with Eli are sacred.

Fresa is quite the talented drawer and took some realism classes to help expand that but it’s nothing more than a hobby to her. She really did the classes in hopes Alba would go with her but she was always too busy or would bail or no show last minute so Fresa got embarrassed and stopped going.

Fresa pretends not to know how to cook because she loves when her sisters or her mami cook for her. But really when she’s sitting in the kitchen pretending not to help and just yapping, she’s paying close attention and has gotten almost all of eli’s “secret” family recipes down pat in her head and can happily cook them for herself when left to her own devices.

Fresa ofc is also passionate about her work! She works in a blood testing/taking clinic but that’s what ignited her passion for looking after others and learning more about the body and how it heals/what it needs. So this lead to her wanting to study nursing!

Though she’s your classic attitude filled sassy younger sibling Fresa is really a sensative gal at heart. Her love languages are in how she cares so passionately about those close to her and nothing makes her happier than looking after them and doing little things that bring them joy.

Despite being an early riser Fresa is a brunch girlie to her core and part of what hurt so much about the rift between her and her sisters, Alba specifically, was the sunday brunch ritual dying off where again they were no shows and Fresa had to stop going to her favourite cafe because they always asked where Alba was and she was embarrassed

[shefromhouston]

Pretty on Purpose

HOW TO MAINTAIN A PRETTY AURA ON A BUDGET

beauty maintenance tips:

at home mani-pedi: having your nails done at a salon constantly can sometimes be hard to keep up with when you don’t have the budget for a 70-150$ set every 2 weeks, so pick up a at home acrylic set to do for yourself along with some cute nail polish for your toes💅🏽 I usually stick to a super cute but classic french manicure. KISS Salon Acrylic Nude set is so pretty + fits every skin tone! It retails for about 7 dollars + lasts for over a week! with great care they can stretched for two weeks.

kitchen face masks: im not crazy about DIY skincare because i do believe proper skin care products are specifically made to absorb into the skin, not just sit on top BUT i do understand running out of my favorite LUSH mask of magnaminty while i’m trying to save a coin or two can cause more stress pimples than my pretty face can afford. SO, a simple yet effective mask (+ only kitchen masks i’ll ever whip up) is my go-to. Try a mix of manuka honey (or any unfiltered RAW honey) and turmeric. That’s all, mix a small amount + apply to your skin for even tone and glowy skin. Also you can’t go wrong with a Aztec Healing Clay Mask, that’ll run you about 12 bucks.

style your natural hair: hair tends to be my BIGGEST beauty bill, so during times when i need save + my hair isn’t already in a style, i focus on styling my curls. Slick back buns + ponytails are my go-to. It’s simple, sleek, + super cute! If managing your natural hair is too much, braiding hair is about 5-8 $ per pack, this’ll be a great time to sit in front a mirror, prop up that laptop + find a good tutorial on easy braid styles. Learn how to do knotless braids on yourself or those super adorable North West chunky braids, building skill during this time could not only save you money but with practice, save you the hassle we all experience dealing with hairstylist.

body mist + perfume minis: idk about y’all but when i look + SMELL good, i feel good. Running out your favorite fragrances during a time when you don’t have the extra cash to re-up can be like losing an old and familiar friend, look up the notes in that fragrance + make your way to a department store like Marshall’s, Ross, TJ Maxx, Burlington, Walmart or Target + get a body mist or perfume dupe! Marshall’s + TJ Maxx usually carry a travel size of many lux perfumes. If you’re obsessed with Juicy Couture fragrances like me, they’re always at these places for super low prices too. Body mists with similar notes can give you a more affordable fragrance option too. To keep body mists scent lingering a little longer try to pick up a similar scented body oil. These options shouldn’t cost you more than 20$, unless your aiming for the perfume dupes or smaller sizes of your favorites, most of them are going for 20-40$ which is a lot more affordable than the 120+ dollars we spend on full size perfumes.

shop your own closet + make a wishlist: shopping sprees are my favorite past time, but saving money can put a quick halt to that hobby. So instead I tend to focus on what i already have, pick out my favorites + literally style them in as many ways as i can- this is also a great time to develop your styling skill, experiment with different pairings + what not. If you just enjoy being out shopping like myself, there is nothing wrong with window shopping for yourself, i call it ‘wishlist hunting’. Go out, get yourself a nice lil lunch, grab ice coffee or chai latte and hit up your favorite stores. There is no law against browsing! (lol but avoid luxury stores or boutique due to them most times having a policy against browsing) Anyways, browse your favorite stores + make note of your next pick ups once you’re able to. It’s like manifesting lol. It also gives you something to look forward to once you’re able to splurge so you won’t be frivolously spending once you get extra coin.

mental health maintenance:

to be transparent, being in tight spot financially can sometimes cause me to worry + feel stressed, even if i’m able to manage all my bills + food. Not having extra money to do the things i want, the way i want can be depressing. My mental + emotional well-being is more important to me than just looking pretty, i want to feel that way too. Being pretty also means my thoughts aren’t against me, especially about things out of my control. Being pretty means that i’m in high energy, not only to be kind to others but kind to myself. Ive been dealing with chronic depression + anxiety since i was 14, so maintaining the things that bring me joy + comfort me is prioritized during times of worry or stress. Being pretty isn’t just about my nails + hair staying done, being pretty is knowing i’m in a safe space with myself so i wont act out in ugly ways. A lot of people don’t acknowledge how managing finances can add to stress + sadness, why should i allow myself to be angry and anxious? that’s ugly to me. Therapy isn’t always accessible or affordable, so journaling is my go-to until i’m able to access professional mental health services. A super cute girls and thems night in is great for the heart, vent it out with your closest friends. Volunteering is free! it’s a great way to give back during a time when you may not have the funds to and gets you out of your mind about things out of your control. Donate or sell some old clothes to help other itgrls on a budget be pretty on purpose. Something about seeing other people appreciate things you don’t show enough love to anymore is good for the conscious.

remember, there is no one in this universe who can be you better than yourself and who you are should not depend on how much or how little you have at any given moment.

xoxo, itgrl Pier

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: my @wyattjohnston winter fic exchange fic for @senditcolton (whose writing i am OBSSESSED with - praise you like i should made me see the light on matty t) 🥰 i’ve never written for tyler seguin and my only familiarity with him was him showing his own headshot to get into the arena which immediately made me love him lol. i had fun writing this one and i hope you enjoy!!!

word count: 12.1k

tw: drinking , fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, hangovers, mild cursing

summary: new year’s eve in las vegas gets out of hand when you meet tyler, a gorgeous stranger in the club

After your divorce papers are signed, sealed, and delivered - on Christmas day no less, leave it to your jackass ex to find the only lawyer in the entire Fort Worth area willing to work on a national fucking holiday - your best friends appear at your front door with suitcases, bottles of champagne, and round trip tickets to Las Vegas, leaving on the 27th.

“No,” you tell them flatly, arms crossed over your flannel shirt, hair in a three-day old knot on top of your head. “I’m not in the mood to go anywhere, much less Vegas.”

You hadn’t even taken your parents up on the offer to pay for a plane ticket back home to New York for the holidays. It was too much to face them after your marriage had imploded and getting the third degree from your relatives wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do. Spending the holidays alone had seemed like a better option, even if the day had been a little lonely. But a spiked hot chocolate and a string of Christmas movie classics had kept you from getting too depressed.

“Honey,” Nora says, in her Christmas sweat set, the cartoon Grinch blazoned across the front giving you a nasty smirk, a patient smile on her face, “now is exactly the time to get away. You just shed a hundred seventy five pounds of jackass, you need a distraction.”

She muscles past you and nearly drags her rolling suitcase’s wheels over your bare toes. You pull your foot back and lean against the wall as Katie and Nic follow her inside, a makeshift parade to celebrate your divorce. Nic at least has the decency to shoot you an apologetic look as she passes, whispering, “I tried to get her to settle for a little trip to a spa, you know, manis, pedis, massage. But you know Nora…”

“Never Takes No for an Answer Nora,” you finish when Nic trails off, smiling a little despite yourself. Nic gives you a little smile and bumps your hip with hers.

“Seriously though,” she says as you close the door behind her, “if you really don’t want to go, Nor will understand.”

You sigh and shake your head. “No, I…it’s probably good for me to get out of town,” you admit reluctantly. It’s been a depressing few months, full of anger and tears and tense phone calls and curt emails. You’re tired of being sad, of being angry, but mostly you’re tired of being in the same city as your asshole ex-husband. Even though you moved out of the house you shared and into an apartment, the entire city holds reminders of your relationship. Now that the divorce is official, you’re starting to wonder if staying in Fort Worth is the right move. Your friends and your job are here, but the risk of running into Jason is astronomically high and maybe a change of scenery would be good. You rub at your forehead - that’s a problem for the new year.

The girls leave their suitcases in a pile in your front hall. Two pairs of Nikes and a pair of Ugg platforms join the suitcases and you’re pulled into a pile on your couch - the college tradition for a broken relationship. Back then it had been cheap wine coolers and binge watching The Bachelor. Now, Nora hands you a bottle of champagne, cheers when you pop the cork, and drops her head to your shoulder after you take a huge gulp. You drape your legs over Katie’s lap and rest your cheek on the top of Nora’s head. It’s not the way you thought you’d be spending the holidays, but you’re so grateful for your friends.

“In about an hour, we’re going to start helping you pack,” Nora says, taking the second bottle of champagne from Nic and swigging from it. “But right now, it’s time to tell us every single negative thought you’ve had about Jackass Jason and didn’t want to say before.“

“Have to cleanse the energy,” Nic says, “by putting all his negative traits into the air and I’ll light some sage.”

“Sage?” You lift an eyebrow, warm and cozy in the cocoon of your friends.

Nic digs into her giant purse and pulls out a wad of sage, tied up with white string. She beams. “Sage! It’s very cleansing.”

Katie cackles a laugh. She kicks Nic’s thigh lightly and grins, “never change those hippie ways, Nicky.”

“Pass me a lighter,” Nic holds out her free hand and wiggles her fingers. Nora drops a well used plastic Bic onto her palm and you lean in to cup your hands under the sage bundle. The last thing you want is ashy smudges on your couch.

It takes two tries, but eventually Nic manages to get the lighter to catch and she holds the flame to the top of the bundle. It immediately starts to smell of the burning herb and smoke rises to the ceiling when she blows out the small fire. You cough a little, the scent of sage stinging your nose. Nic rolls off the couch and begins to wave the stick around, explaining what she’s doing as she goes.

“So, we’re getting rid of all of Jason’s negative energy and karma,” she waves the stick and you wince when a little clump of ashes falls to the carpet and then sigh when Nic’s bare foot grinds them further into the fibers.

“Jason never lived here,” you point out reasonably, the bottle of champagne lighter in your hand as you take another drink. Your chest already feels lighter and less knotted with grief and anxiety.

Nic looks at you like you’re an idiot and you feel strangely chastened, taking another swig from the bottle. “Honey, his negative energy and toxicity was absorbed by you and all the stuff you took from the house. We have to just, like, get his energy out of here.” She cocks her head at you, squints, asks, “would you consider cutting your hair? Hair holds onto a lot of trauma.”

“No!” You yelp, hand flying up to clutch at the knotted mess on top of your head. “I thought you were the ones to talk me out of breakup bangs when he first left? Now I’m supposed to cut my hair?”

“Just a suggestion,” she says, even as the other two chime in from the couch to encourage a change in your hairstyle. Nora mentions a bob and you resist the urge to kick her.

With a roll of your eyes, you say firmly, “I’m not cutting my hair. Let’s move on from this.”

Nic nods and finishes sageing the apartment, leaving a faint haze of smoke in the air and you’re honestly very grateful when she puts the bundle in a ziploc bag and stashes it back in her purse. “Okay,” she beams, dusting off her hands, “bad energy officially cleansed. We can move onto the fun part!” She drinks from the bottle that you’ve mostly emptied on your own and before you can ask what the fun part is, you’re being pushed into your bedroom and the girls are rummaging in your closet for your suitcase.

They work in coordination, while you’re sitting stupid in the middle of your bed, to throw your skimpiest clothes into the opened suitcase. You watch as a colourful array of fabric is tossed from your drawers and wonder what, exactly, they have planned for the trip.

“This one, for sure,” Katie’s voice is muffled from deep in your closet. Her hand appears, the mirrored minidress you bought and wore for the Eras Tour swinging from its hanger. The mirrors sparkle under the hi-hats in your room and throw discs of light onto your bedroom walls.

“What are we doing in Vegas?” You ask finally, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. “I mean, I love that dress, but can’t this just be a chill trip? Like what if we just got tickets to see Adele? And I can cry to her music?”

“Absolutely not,” Nora shakes her head and Katie shakes the dress at you again. “We’re going to get you to forget about the jackass and the divorce one way or another. Whether it’s drinks or dick, that’s your choice, but you deserve to let loose after taking care of him all these years.”

“Besides,” Katie pipes up, “how good do you think we are that we could get last minute Adele tickets? That shit was sold out months ago!”

Tears prickle at your eyes, your nose burning a little. Divorced at 27 isn’t exactly how you pictured your life going after meeting Jason in college, getting married at 22, and supporting him all throughout his time in law school, but you’re beyond grateful for your girls.

“No dick,” you murmur, a shaky smile on your face. “I’m not ready for that, but drinks I can do.”

The trio cheers and starts tossing more clothes into your suitcase.

——

The next day is spent nursing your mild hangover and repacking the drunken mess you’d all made of your suitcase the night before. Once you’re packed to your satisfaction - mirrored mini dress and platform heels included - you run out for a quick wax before meeting the girls for a manicure.

“I meant to say it last night,” you say watching your crusty old gel polish disappear into dust, “but let me know what I owe you, for the flight and hotel and everything. I’ll Venmo you.”

Nora waves you off, apologising quickly to the manicurist when she complains as Nora’s hand is ripped away. “Don’t even worry about that. I used miles for the flights and -“

“The guy I’ve been seeing?” Nic cuts in. “The hedge fund guy, Mark, he’s treating for the hotel suite.”

Katie’s eyebrows shoot up along with yours. Clearly she didn’t know about the hotel connect. “Whoa,” she grins, “Nicky with the high roller! Hold onto him with two hands.”

Nic blushes. “He’s really sweet too.” She continues talking about him for a few minutes until she stops herself and looks at you with wide eyes and an apologetic expression. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! Here I am rambling on and you’re going through -“

“Oh my god, don’t do that!” You cut her off. “I’m okay! I want to hear about the guys you’re dating. Just because I’m single again doesn’t mean I want death to love for everyone.” You snort a laugh that sounds a little forced even to your own ears. The girls share a look that you hate, but continue talking about the dates they’ve been on and the mediocre sex they’ve been having. Truthfully, you tune them out a little bit, cranky about the divorce, about the trip that was sprung on you, and embarrassingly enough, jealous that they’re having sex at all.

Even before Jason started the divorce proceedings six months ago, it had been nearly eight months before that the last time you had sex. You should’ve realized he was seeing someone else on the side because there was no way he had gone that long without sex. And yet. You’d been caught off guard by the cliched texts found in his phone, the lacy thong found in his car, and the divorce petition delivered to you while he was “working late.” Thinking back on it, you feel supremely stupid.

Now that the paperwork is signed and you’re officially, legally single again, you’re just glad you didn’t have kids or anything really significant to fight over. It’s almost a blessing that the process wasn’t as drawn out as it could’ve been.

You make a conscious effort to push all thoughts of Jason from your mind and try to be in the moment, a task made easier once you’re in the air en route to Vegas and then actually in the city itself. It’s both like the movies and not, colorful and loud and a little sketchy. But you immediately make twenty bucks on a slot machine in the airport, so you figure that’s a good omen for the trip.

The first four days of the trip pass in a blur - all you can eat buffets, drinking, dancing, spas, too little sleep, and too much gambling. You’re up nearly three hundred dollars after being down almost a thousand the day before, so that’s cause to celebrate with drinks. Not that you really need an excuse - you’ve had more alcohol in the last four days than in the last four months. You’re exhausted, but you’ve also laughed more than you have in a year and your face hurts from smiling. The entire city has a numbing effect on your lingering emotions and you feel yourself starting to rediscover who you were before the Jason of it all.

“Time for the mirrorball dress!” Nora singsongs, dancing around the suite in her plush robe. It’s New Year’s Eve and the city feels even sparklier than usual. The streets have been packed with people and the casinos are at capacity - apparently there’s a hockey game tonight too, so the sports bettors are having a field day. You’ve been going to different hotel bars and clubs the past few nights, but tonight is the big night out before you fly back to Texas tomorrow night.

The entire Strip is shut down to traffic for the night and you’re planning on going to TAO for dinner and dancing since it’s inside the Venitian, where you’re staying. It’s a major splurge, but fuck it, you’re about to get alimony from your corporate lawyer ex-husband. You still have Jason’s credit card, so you’re fully planning on putting dinner on his tab, before he realizes that the card is in your possession. For all the little details Jason remembers, he’s surprisingly bad about his finances.

For now though, you dig your hand into the pillowcase that had been full of the little shot sized bottles of alcohol four days ago and is now mostly empty. You groan when you pull out a little bottle of Pink Whitney, the pink lemonade vodka is your least favorite drink. You knock back the shot while the girls cheer you on, all three of them already in various states of tipsy. It honestly feels like you haven’t been completely sober since you left Texas.

Nic blasts a classic 2000s playlist while you’re getting ready and you dance around the huge suite, feeling light and floaty.

It’s complete chaos out on the Strip, even though it’s barely after 7. You could’ve gotten to the restaurant directly through the hotel, but you decide to walk outside for a bit to see what’s happening. It’s chillier than you expected, so by the time you get to the restaurant, you’re more than ready for a drink and dinner. You fill up on sushi and expensive drinks, gossiping about people you knew in college, spilling some more of the more extreme details of Jason’s cheating when you’re finished with your third TAO-tini.

“FUCK HIM!” Katie shouts in the middle of the restaurant, drawing attention to your table. You giggle and shush her drunkenly, waving a hand to get her to lower her voice. “No,” she shakes her head, only marginally quieter, “you really are so much better than that douche. When we get downstairs, we’re finding a man and you’re fucking him!”

Nic giggles and leans a little sideways in her seat, “new dick to cleanse Jackass Jason from your vagina!”

You flush with embarrassment as more people look over, but thank god the waiter comes by with the check. You toss Jason’s platinum AmEx onto the little dish and grin wickedly as you tell the girls, “dinner was on Jason.” They cheer and Nora laughs, “I should’ve ordered another drink!”

Once the bill is paid, with a generous 30% tip added, you traipse downstairs into the club part of the restaurant. The lights are low and the music is loud, plenty of people already drunkenly dancing just three hours before midnight. Nic and Nora join the fray immediately while you and Katie detour off to the bathroom quickly where you fix up your makeup and fluff up your hair, inspecting your face in the mirror. You look tired, but there’s a spark in your eyes that you hadn’t noticed was missing in the last year of your relationship with Jason.

“I’m serious,” Katie says, her solemn tone betrayed by the slight slur to her ‘s’. “Pick a guy in here and I will make sure you fuck him. You deserve a little fun.”

“I have been having fun,” you assure her, your reflection grinning at hers. The alcohol is making your brain pleasantly fuzzy, thoughts drifting away as easily as they come. “I don’t need a man right now,” you continue. “Even for the night. I just want to dance.”

“Okay!” Katie chirps, grabbing your hand and pulling you back out into the club. “Let’s dance!”

And you do. You find Nic and Nora and for a handful of songs, the four of you are jumping and screaming and having a blast.

Sweaty and thirsty, you break off from the girls and wobble towards the bar, weaving in between the throngs of people. The line for the bar is two or three people deep, so you settle in for a wait, looking around the room and people watching. The crowd seems pretty typical for New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas, but your gaze lands on a group of men and your heart skips a beat.

There’s at least four of them huddled together, maybe five, and you know you’re drunk, but you didn’t think you were drunk enough to be seeing double. You blink and they come into sharper focus - not seeing double, just two incredibly handsome, dark haired and bearded men. Another dark haired man with no beard and a curly haired blond man. They’re all in slacks and white button downs in various states of unbuttoned, like they came from the office or something. They don’t look out of place in the club though, with drinks in their hands and the way they’re grouped together.

They’re laughing and shoving at each other, like overgrown frat boys, and you can’t look away. You’re captivated by the way they hold themselves, clearly confident in their bodies. Even in the dark of the club, you can see the faint outlines of ink through the white fabric of one of the guys’ shirts.

You’re still staring like a creep when the tattooed guy turns and looks directly at you, making and holding eye contact. A little gasp slips from your lips and your stomach flips, the familiar and nearly forgotten feeling of arousal sparking to life in your stomach. His friends shove at his arms, laughing. You blink and look away, feeling shaky and not from the alcohol. A faint flutter between your legs has you pressing your thighs together. “This is stupid,” you mutter to yourself. Ten seconds of eye contact shouldn’t have had you reacting like this. Yes, it had been a while since you last had sex, but jeez.

You rub your fingers over the bridge of your nose and nearly jump out of your skin when a deep, unfamiliar voice says, “what are you drinking?” right in your ear.

“Oh!” You turn, stumbling just enough that a hand shoots out and grips your elbow to steady you. A warm, broad hand. Attached to a tanned, tattooed forearm. Attached to a broad chest barely covered by an obscenely unbuttoned white shirt - tattoos and chest hair exposed and making your body react. Attached to the dark haired man you had made eye contact with. You blink up into warm brown eyes and ignore the way your stomach clenches up. His thumb brushes against the inside of your elbow and your skin feels like it’s on fire.

His mouth, full lower lip and thinner upper lip surrounded by a neatly trimmed beard and moustache, quirks up at the corner. “In case I wasn’t clear,” he says and you can hear the laughter in his tone, “can I buy you a drink?”

A faint smile touches your own lips and you nod. “Double vodka cranberry,” you say, voice a little raspy from screaming along to the music.

Mystery Man nods, smiling, “good choice. Come with me?” Without waiting for an answer, he slides his hand down your forearm and laces his fingers with yours to pull you behind him while he uses his broad shoulders to muscle past the crowd around the bar. When you reach the bar, he does a quick maneuver, dragging you in front of him so you’re sandwiched between the bar and his chest, heat pouring off his body. He leans forward a bit, pressing against you, and catches the bartender’s attention. Your entire body feels too warm, the thin fabric of your thong growing damp from the solid mass of his chest against your back.

“Double vodka cranberry for the lady,” he orders. “And double scotch on the rocks for me.”

His forearms come to rest on the bar top, trapping you in the circle of his arms. The alcohol is lowering your inhibitions and your intrusive thoughts win out and you arch your back a little, pressing your ass into his crotch, turning your head to look back at him. He wears a shit eating grin on his face.

“I don’t usually let strangers buy me drinks,” you say, heart pounding in your chest. He doesn’t feel like a threat, doesn’t feel like someone you should be afraid of. You lean a little closer to him, something crackling in the air between your bodies.

Something flitters across his expression, but you’re just this side of drunk and can’t manage to identify it before it’s gone. “Tyler,” he introduces himself, trailing a finger over your arm and up to your shoulder where he plays with the thin silver strap holding your dress in place. “Not a stranger now.” Goosebumps lift on your arms as his fingertip twists in the skimpy strap. His gaze is searing, flickering from your eyes to your lips to the hint of cleavage exposed by the draping of your dress. Your nipples tighten under the fabric, pinching almost painfully.

You offer up your own name in return, taking the drink directly from the bartender when he returns. You sip at it and it tastes stronger than a double or maybe that’s just Tyler’s proximity that’s clouding your senses.

He takes a sip of his own drink and leads you away from the bar, giving you another opportunity to watch his back muscles move under his shirt as he works his way through the crowd. A gym rat, you think, with the way he’s all lean muscle and quiet strength. He’s muscled, but not disgustingly so.

“What are you doing in Vegas?” He asks, when you’re alone again, just off to the side of the bar. You can see the girls out of the corner of your eye, staring at you with matching ‘you go, girl!’ expressions on their faces. You giggle a little.

“Celebrating,” you reply vaguely, taking a sip of your drink and fluttering your lashes. You’re flirting, you realize. You haven’t flirted with anyone since Jason. The bubbly feeling in your chest expands and you smile up at him.

“Huh,” he laughs warmly, “what do you know, me too. And the only thing my night was missing is a pretty girl.”

Alcohol fuels your confidence, along with the hungry way Tyler’s gaze takes in your body, and you reply, “good thing you found me then.”

Your gaze lingers on the notch of his collarbone, the dusting of hair over his chest, the dark lines of his tattoos. Your cunt gives an enthusiastic throb and you swallow heavily.

Tyler leans in a little and you catch a whiff of spicy cologne mixed with the scotch on his breath. This isn’t his first drink of the night either. “Would your friends mind if I monopolized your time tonight?”

Biting your lip, you look over at the girls. Katie is moving her hand near her mouth in the universal sign for blowjob and Nic is giving you the biggest, most encouraging puppy dog eyes. Nora flashes you a double thumbs up, spilling some of her drink in the process. A laugh huffs through your nose and you look back up at Tyler, “no, I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“Good,” his smile is adorable, his hand lands on your waist, and you completely forget why you told Katie you weren’t interested in a hook up tonight. “Want to dance?”

You’re not quite sure how it happened - one minute you were dancing with Tyler, one of his arms wrapped securely around your waist while your hips gyrated against his pelvis, the hard bulge of his cock obvious every time you moved and the next minute you found yourself pressed up against a wall in the VIP section of TAO, with Tyler’s tongue deep down your throat and his hand sliding up the side of your thigh, fingertips playing at the hem of your dress. Your hands are fisted around the collar of his shirt, pulling him as close as you can while you moan into his mouth and cant your hips towards his, spreading your legs a little to encourage his hand’s exploration.

His fingertips make contact with the soaked fabric of your thong and you whimper, knees going weak. Tyler’s lips turn up in a smile against yours and he uses more pressure, finding your clit easily through the fabric until you have to pull back and gasp for air, your head thrown back while you pant.

“Jesus, baby,” he mutters, kissing a trail down your jaw and over your throat. “You’re fucking soaked.” He sucks gently at your pulse point, your heart hammering in your chest.

He slips his fingers under the fabric, rough pads of his fingers catching against your slick folds. “Oh my god,” you mutter, grinding against his fingers. “More, please, Tyler.”

He obeys, thumb catching on your clit and middle finger teasing at your entrance before sliding inside easily. A whine catches in your throat and it feels so good, too good. Between the alcohol and the lust and the months long celibacy, you’re at the edge of an orgasm in less than a minute, dripping around Tyler’s fingers before you can even process that you’ve come. White spots dance in your vision and it could be the strobe lights or the searing pleasure from having your clit rolled between Tyler’s thick fingers.

“Good girl,” he grins against your neck, beard and teeth scraping against your skin. Your face already feels rubbed raw with beard burn, but you don’t want him to stop. “Think you can do it again?”

Truthfully you think that you’re so worked up and horny you could come just from Tyler looking at you, but you nod and squeak out a yes.

Tyler bites a mark against your collarbone and drops to his knees, wedging his shoulders between your thighs and forcing them apart. He looks up at you from between your legs, dark eyes even darker with lust and a wicked grin on his face, “hold on, baby, gonna make you see fireworks for the New Year.”

You laugh at the corny line, choking off into a prolonged moan when he buries his face between your legs and presses his tongue flat against your cunt, the wet heat of his tongue pressing your damp thong into your sensitive clit.

You’re beyond thankful for the darkness of the VIP area and the loud music because you can’t contain the noises that Tyler’s drawing from your mouth. You tangle one hand in his hair - fuck, it’s so soft - and hold his face up against your cunt. The other hand reaches blindly for the magnum bottle of champagne you’d been sharing. Technically it’s the second bottle and it’s more than half gone when you tip it up to your mouth for a drink.

“I - ah! I don’t usually doooooh my god, right there - this,” you gasp, writhing over Tyler’s face. His nose is pressed against your clit and his tongue is flat against you, licking with purpose. You grind against his face, making sure the tip of his nose rubs against your clit.

“What,” he pulls back with a wicked grin that only grows when you whine and try to push him back in place with your grip on his hair, “get your pussy licked?”

The bottom half of his face is glistening in the strobe lights and you feel the blush rise on your chest knowing that your body did that to him.

“Um, yes,” you admit quietly, “and the whole, uh, stranger in a club thing too.”

His smile turns a little soft, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Happy to be your first then,” he kisses the inside of your thigh and lifts your leg so it’s draped over his shoulder and you’re spread even wider for him. You’re impossibly exposed to him and all it does is make you wetter. Tyler tilts his head back a little and opens his mouth, you instinctively pour some champagne into his mouth, the both of you laughing when it splatters onto his face and shirt, making the white fabric nearly see-through. He wipes a little at his face, fingers scraping at his beard, and he shrugs. “Was gonna get all wet and messy anyway.”

He holds his champagne covered fingers up to your face and you lick at his skin, sucking his fingertips into your mouth and letting them rest on your tongue for a moment before he pushes them a little further past your lips, until saliva is dripping down his palm.

Tyler’s head is back between your legs, a strong hang gripping at your thigh, his lips wrapped around your clit. He sucks at the swollen bud and your leg kicks out, the heel of your platform smacking against his back with an audible thunking noise. He grunts into you and you moan an apology, his fingers falling out of your mouth so you can take another gulp of champagne. The bubbles fizz on your tongue and burn going down.

He buries his wet fingers into your cunt, curling and pumping, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to keep from screaming. Not that anyone would hear you with how loud the music is in the club. You grind your hips against Tyler’s face and feel him smile, the coarse hair on his face scratching against your inner thighs when you subconsciously try to close your legs around his ears.

“Gonna kill me,” he pulls back and mutters, nipping at the junction of your thigh. You jolt when his hands squeeze at your asscheeks, the scrape of the sequins on your dress adding more overwhelming sensation. He adjusts your thigh over his shoulder, his other hand trailing down your leg and wrapping around your ankle. He pulls back a little and you whine at the loss of sensation. “I like these,” he says, his fingers tapping against the sparkle of your platforms. “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.”

You laugh, about to deny that this is going any further than the club, when his mouth is back on your cunt, tongue stiff and warm as he licks at your clit. All thoughts are gone from your head, aware only of the pleasure Tyler’s giving you. His hands are all over your body, fidgeting from your thighs to your ass and back again, calloused fingertips ghosting over your skin and making you shiver.

You close your eyes against the pleasure building in your body, tears pooling at your waterline. How the fuck did you go this long in life without realizing that you’ve never had a satisfying orgasm? And some random, gorgeous man in a club in Vegas is the one to satisfy you over and over? It’s a shame this is a one night thing.

—-

Sunlight streams in through the windows and you screw your eyes shut tighter, nausea rolling your stomach even though you haven’t moved. It’s like an ice pick is stabbed into your temple, the throbbing somewhere deep in your brain a harsh reminder that you’re not 21 and immune to hangovers anymore.

You press your lips together and lift your hand to rub at your temple, trying to keep your movements as slow as possible so you don’t vomit. Something hard and sharp knocks against your brow bone and you crack one eye open to see what the hell it could possibly be since you don’t remember putting any jewelry on last night. A huge twinkly diamond ring stares back at you from your finger.

The ring finger.

The left ring finger.

…fuck

Your eyes fly open and you ignore the wave of nausea and shooting headache to look around the hotel room. The unfamiliar hotel room. The sheets slide down your chest, exposing you to cold air and making you shiver. Your nipples pebble from the cold and you look down, eyes widening at the little bruises and bite marks scattered over your chest and stomach. You’re naked under the sheets save for a pair of black boxer-briefs looped around one thigh, like you tried to put them on last night and got tired halfway. The fabric is soft and worn and they’re absolutely not your underwear.

“Fuck!” You yelp, gaze landing on Tyler’s prone form in the bed next to you. He’s flat on his back, one arm thrown over his face, the other out to his side with his fingers curled in your direction. “Oh my god!”

His chest is bare, tattoos a stark contrast against the white sheets and his tan skin. He’s got purpling bruises on his chest and stomach too, marks that you must’ve left on him. Marks that make a trail from his collarbone over his pecs, down his stomach, barely hidden by the sheet that rides low over his lap.

If you’re half wearing his briefs, he’s definitely completely naked from the waist down too. Before you can comprehend the thought, you wonder if you left marks lower on his body too.

Your head is moving around like it’s on a swivel, taking in all the details of the room that you’re pretty sure is Tyler’s. There’s a black suitcase in the corner and your dress is a shiny pile on the floor. Your thong tossed over the lampshade on the bedside table. You can’t find your shoes, until you notice them at the foot of the giant bed, left in a haphazard pile and you remember, faintly, Tyler’s words from last night - “When I fuck you later, I want you to keep these on.” They look like they were discarded in a rush, one ankle strap not even fully pulled from its buckle. His clothes are everywhere, tossed in a trail from the door that speaks to how fast you were trying to get him naked.

The hangover is clouding your brain, making it feel like your head is stuffed with cotton, and you haven’t even begun to consider what the ring on your finger means. Maybe it was just a joke? It had to have been a joke.

Tyler shifts, grunting a little in his sleep, and reaches his hand out in your direction like he’s trying to find your body. His movement startles you.

“Ah, fuck!” You yelp, scrambling out of the bed, legs all tangled in the sheets. The briefs slip down your leg and tangle around your ankle. You kick your leg wildly, the black fabric going sailing across the room with the force of your kick. Frantically, you yank at one of the blankets crumpled at the foot of the bed and wrap it around yourself like a toga. Your hands shake a little.

Tyler stirs and blinks sleepily, stretching his arms over his head, giving you a show with how the black ink of his tattoos move. His gaze is unfocused when his eyes finally open, landing on your blanket-wrapped form. A slow smile graces his lips and he rasps, “hey, morning.” There’s a smudge of your dark lipstick on his cheek, partially hidden by his beard. A bruise is sucked into the underside of his bearded jaw and you notice, for the first time, the ragged red nail marks on his shoulders and biceps. He looks like he was attacked by a feral animal - and it’s a jolt to the system when you realize that feral animal had to have been you.

You can’t even find words, mouth gaping open and shut at him like a fish. Now that you’re standing, you finally stop for a second to take stock of your own body. Sticky between the thighs, sore like you’ve never been sore before - in a pleasant, well taken care of way. Your inner thighs feel raw and you know that when you look later, you’re going to find beard burn on the sensitive skin. You can already feel it on your chin and cheeks.

“What is this?” You hold your left hand out to him, the gaudy ring - because now that you’ve gotten a better look at it, it’s not a real diamond, thank god. It’s cubic zirconia or something cloudier than a real diamond and it’s a huge oval, spanning the entirety of your knuckle - glinting in the early morning sunlight.

Tyler squints at you, rolling onto his side before sitting up, either unaware or unconcerned that he’s completely naked and the sheet pools low enough in his lap that you can see the trail of dark hair leading down to his dick and the hair at the very base of him. You try to keep your eyes from looking, but he reaches a hand up and rubs at the back of his neck, making his bicep pop and the sheet move around and you’re only a woman, you can’t help yourself from looking. Your clit throbs between your legs, clearly remembering what happened last night even if most of it after getting eaten out in TAO is a little fuzzy to your brain.

“It’s a ring,” he replies simply, looking like his brain is trying to come back on-line too. He shifts his hand and his eyebrows lift. “Oh, shit. I’ve got one too.”

Your gaze lands on the band on his left ring finger. It’s yellow gold, or something cheap that looks like yellow gold, and you hate that your immediate thought is that it looks good on him. The band contrasts nicely with his skin and he spins it with his thumb, your eyes tracking the rotation.

A little chuckle slips past his lips and you blink at him. He takes in your expression and laughs outright. “Come on, you can’t possibly think we what? Got married last night?” His laugh is warm and too familiar for someone you’ve known less than twelve hours. “That’s a Vegas cliché if I’ve ever heard one.”

You shake your head. “Right, no. Yeah, I’m just being stupid. It’s just—“ you hesitate, glancing around the room again, avoiding looking at him, noticing the - oh god - four condom wrappers discarded on the floor. No wonder you’re so sore. The tenting of the sheet in his lap isn’t doing much to hide his morning wood, the shape of him obvious even with the quick little glances you’ve been sneaking. Four times. It’s a minor miracle that you’re not walking bowlegged.

Tyler stretches again and looks around for something - his clothes, his phone, who knows - while clearly not caring that the sheet is covering next to nothing. “Hey, do you see my phone?” He asks, drawing your attention back to his face. “Just wanna check the time.”

He’s remarkably chill and you’re starting to feel a little crazy for overreacting so much to silly rings bought in a drunken haze. There’s a phone on one of the little decorative tables in the corner of the room and you’re not sure if it’s yours or his, but when you pad across the room to get it, you step on a piece of paper, crumpling it under your heel. Leaning down to pick it up, you fall back on your ass in shock when your eyes land on the words at the top.

Clark County Marriage License

“You okay?” Tyler asks, sounding concerned.

“No,” you manage to squeak out the word around the block in your throat. There in black and white - your name and Tyler’s. Tyler Paul Seguin, apparently, if the document is to be believed. You feel your stomach lurch when you see the date on the license. Last night, New Year’s Eve.

How drunk had you been?

Who the hell had let you get married?

You’re so caught up in the implications of the piece of paper you’re holding that you don’t realize Tyler’s out of bed and squatting next to you, wearing his briefs, thank god.

“Whatcha got - oh,” he cuts himself off, reading the words over your shoulder. “Oh. Shit. Wow.”

He sits down on the floor next to you and you look over at him, eyes wide. “We actually got fucking married in Las Vegas,” you breathe, chest tightening in panic.

“I mean, maybe we didn’t?” He says hopefully. “That’s just a license, doesn’t mean we actually did it.” He taps his fingers absently over one well-muscled thigh, an irregular beat that you somehow sync your breathing to. With a huge effort, you drag your gaze away from his fingers - long and thick and the last you remember, stuffed up your cunt and dragging an orgasm out of your body - and steady your breathing. One hand presses against your chest, fingers digging into your skin like you could reach in and squeeze your heart back into a normal rhythm.

The phone on the tabletop starts buzzing and Tyler reaches up to grab it - “mine,” he says, glancing at the screen and jabs his finger to silence the alarm. He reaches his hand back up on the table and comes back with a handful of Polaroids. He splays them out like a deck of cards and you look at them. “Huh.”

Each picture is blurry as hell, but they’re unmistakably wedding photos. You’ve got a little fluffy veil on. Tyler’s shirt is unbuttoned past is sternum, but tucked neatly into his pants. He’s got you dipped back at the waist, kissing you dramatically. You’re on his back, holding a bouquet of flowers in the air as you kiss his cheek. He’s holding you, chest to chest, one large hand splayed over your bare back, your hand slid underneath his shirt. The Little White Wedding Chapel sign behind you and Tyler in one photo makes what happened last night unavoidable.

“I think we got married,” Tyler states the obvious and you burst into hysterical, gasping laughter. He looks at you, concerned for a beat before starting to laugh himself. It’s not funny at all, but if you don’t laugh, you think you’ll cry.

Once you catch your breath, you hiccup a little noise that sounds like a sob and carefully put the license up on the table. Tyler watches you and then glances back down at his phone, wincing at the time. “So, uh, hate to get married and run, but I have to go,” he taps his phone screen. “I’m on a flight to San Jose in an hour and I really can’t afford to miss that.”

You catch a glimpse of his lock screen and it’s a picture of him cuddling three dogs, which makes you feel marginally better because at least it’s not a woman that he’s cheating on and any man that has his dogs as his phone screen can’t be a total sociopath. A little bit of the knot in your chest unravels.

“San Jose,” you repeat, finally catching onto what he said. “Is that where you live?” You ask the question realizing you know nothing about this man that you’ve married. You didn’t even know his last name until five minutes ago. Oh god. You’re going to have to manage a time difference while filing for divorce. Your thoughts spiral out. Can you even get divorced in a state that’s not Nevada? You should know this, you’re probably the divorce expert in the room. He isn’t giving off divorced man energy, but do you give off divorced woman energy? You hadn’t thought about that and now it’s all you can focus on.

Tyler laughs a little, drawing your attention and stopping your panic attack. “No, thank god. I’m, uh, not to sound conceited,” he says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck, “but you really didn’t recognize me?”

“Should I?” You frown, studying his face. Maybe he looks familiar? But in that way that most dark haired white men look alike. You’re almost positive that you’ve never seen him before.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “This is awkward. But I play for the Dallas Stars, the hockey team? We played Vegas last night, San Jose tomorrow.”

You cock your head at him, this new information sinking in. Dallas. Just thirty minutes from your place in Fort Worth. You’ve obviously heard of the Stars, you don’t live under a rock, but you’ve never been to a game, never cared about sports enough to learn any of the players’ names. It would be a weird thing to lie about, but - “prove it.”

“Prove it?” Tyler repeats incredulously. You nod. He frowns and looks like he’s trying to make a decision. After a second, he huffs a little laugh to himself and mutters, “well, it already worked once,” before unlocking his phone and typing away on the screen. A second later he holds it up next to his face, a Google search open on the screen. A headshot - Tyler’s headshot in a green jersey - looks back at you. He grins wryly, “proof enough?” The search bar at the bottom of the screen shows that he typed in ‘tyler seguin dallas stars headshot’ and misspelled his own name as ‘tylor’ - you don’t know why, but it makes you bite your lip to smother a laugh. The little typo is endearing.

You look back and forth between the screen and Tyler, long enough that he starts to genuinely laugh. “C’mon,” he teases, putting his phone down on his thigh, “you’re a tougher sell than security at the arena.”

“Okay,” you offer him a tiny smile, “I believe you. I’m just, um, a little overwhelmed. I don’t do this kind of thing.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever done it before either,” he replies, shoving a hand through his hair. “I’m going to be on the road for a bit, west coast swing, but if you put your number in my phone, I’ll have my lawyer start working on the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

He coughs a little awkwardly. “The divorce? Or annulment? Divorce though right? ‘Cause we obviously slept together,” he gestures at the condom wrappers, “so we can’t just sweep it under the rug. Like Ross and Rachel in Friends.”

“No!” The word slips out before you can stop it and Tyler frowns.

“We can annul it? My knowledge of ending Vegas weddings is pretty minimal.” He pauses and then as if to reassure you, says, “my knowledge of ending marriages in general is pretty limited too.”

“No,” you chew at your lip, “it’s still a divorce. But, fuck, this is mortifying. A second fucking divorce before I’m even 28. Good fucking job with your life.” You mutter the last bit more to yourself than to Tyler, tears welling up in your eyes. That would be the last thing you need, to tell your family and friends about this whole debacle. Literally a week after your first divorce is finalized, you go out and get married again. Drunkenly. In Las Vegas!

Tyler’s eyebrow lifts and he doesn’t ask the question he so clearly wants to ask. You scrub a hand over your face, nausea returning but you’re not sure if it’s the hangover this time or the way he’s looking at you.

“What if,” he says slowly, studying you carefully for a reaction, “what if, we just…didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” You shift, the floor uncomfortable under your sore ass. The blanket wrapped around your body isn’t the softest and you’re starting to sweat a little despite the cold air pumping into the room. Tyler’s presence next to you is becoming distracting, the movement of his chest muscles, the rasp of his voice. Your body wants more of him.

“Didn’t get divorced…” he tilts his head at you, keeps looking you in the eye, even after your jaw drops and the blanket slips a little. “We could, I don’t know, just -“

“Stay married?” You finish for him, eyebrows up in your hairline. He nods, shrugs - why not? “Oh my god.”

Tyler’s phone vibrates on his thigh and he glances down at the alarm. It reminds you that you have no idea where your own phone is and you really, really need to talk to the girls. He jabs at the alarm again and looks apologetic. “I really do have to go,” he gets to his feet and holds out a hand to pull you up. A spark shoots up your arm when his fingers clasp around yours. He doesn’t let go right away, his thumb rubbing against the backs of your fingers. “Think about it,” he looks at you more softly than you think he really should be in this moment. “You said you don’t do this kind of thing,” he continues, “but new year, new you?” The tiny smile he gives you sends your heartbeat into overdrive and this cannot be good for your health.

“Drunk married in Vegas would be a really new me,” you reply faintly. His hand finally falls away from yours and you’re mildly concerned to realize that you miss his touch. Your fingers flex at your side.

His smile doesn’t waver and he reaches out to brush a piece of hair off your cheek, fingertips lingering on your skin. “I’ll be back in Dallas in two weeks. Think about it, I’ll take you to dinner and we can just…go from there.”

He says it so simply, like it’s nothing. Strangely enough, you do feel calmer than you had a few moments ago, Tyler’s steady calm rubbing off on you.

“Okay,” you nod, repeating yourself. “Okay. I’ll…two weeks.”

Tyler grins a little wickedly. “At least we know we’re good together in bed,” he teases, kicking at a condom wrapper with his bare foot.

A laugh startles out of your chest and you find yourself nodding in agreement. “I, ah, definitely agree with that,” you murmur, your entire face flaming with heat.

——

One Year Later - New Year’s Eve. Dallas. TX

Tyler greets you at the door, suited up and bouquet of flowers in hand. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin,” he grins at you.

“Mr. Seguin,” you laugh back, leaning in to loop your arms around his neck and kiss him soundly, nipping at his lower lip. When you pull back, you’re breathless. “Don’t you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

His hands roam up and down your back, catching in the fabric of your sparkly white minidress, sliding up under the hem to knead at the flesh of your ass. He grins wickedly when his hands don’t find any fabric covering your ass. You smirk at him and wink, giggling when he pinches a cheek.

You lean into his touch with a contented purr. If it wouldn’t make you late for your own party, you’d pull him inside the house for a quickie. You’d already had sex this morning - a wedding present, according to Tyler when he’d given you back to back, mind numbing orgasms with his tongue and dick before you’d returned the favor with a blowjob that had rendered him speechless for twenty minutes - but you would never get enough of being in Tyler’s arms.

“Does it count as bad luck if none of the guests know they’re coming to a wedding?” He asks, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Or a vow renewal, technically.”

The last twelve months have been a little insane and honestly, looking back, you don’t think you’d have it any other way.

After getting dressed quickly, Tyler had found your phone wedged in the cushions of the hotel room’s armchair. The battery was nearly drained but your screen was lit up with more than a hundred texts in the group chat with the girls and nearly as many missed calls. When you had finally called back, all three had shrieked that they were twenty minutes away from reporting you missing. You’d kept the little surprise of legally binding matrimony to yourself, but had admitted to the girls that you’d spent the night with Tyler and that he lived in Dallas and that you were going to see where it went. The flight home was full of whispered shrieking and more questions than you had honestly had answers for at the time. The gaudy engagement ring was buried in the bottom of your toiletry case, acting like the tell-tale heart, blood rushing in your head every time you thought about it.

When you got home, you’d shoved the ring in your jewelry box, determined not to think about it, but found yourself absently running the pad of your thumb over the underside of your ring finger when you let your mind wander to Tyler.

After Tyler had returned to Dallas from his two week road trip - during which you’d basically internet stalked him and spiralled out quietly about not filling for a divorce right away - you’d finally decided to give it, give Tyler a chance. He’d texted nearly every day he was gone, sending stupid jokes or a picture of something he thought would amuse you. Worst case scenario, you filed for divorce and went through the process all over again. By the time Tyler took you out for dinner at a quiet dive-y taco place in Fort Worth where you could actually hear each other, both of your memories of the wedding night had returned, although yours were coloured in a hazy film that made the whole thing seem like a fever dream.

The little ceremony had been officiated by an Elvis impersonator, another Vegas cliché, a fact that you’d learned when Tyler had found another Polaroid in his wallet when he was on the plane to San Jose. You’d cracked up when he finally showed it to you in person - Elvis in the middle, clearly past his prime, with you and Tyler on either side of him doing your best air guitar? Maybe?

“I think I’m trying to do an Elvis hip swivel,” Tyler had laughed.

“Whatever it is, it looks like we’re both mid-seizure,” you’d nearly snorted your drink out of your nose. Looking at the photographs was fun now, a little warmth building in the pit of your stomach, not the tight, nauseous coil of anxiety that you’d experienced when you had first seen them.

Other wedding details were still a little hazy, like where you had picked up the rings or what exactly the ceremony had consisted of, beyond being declared man and wife and being told to kiss and cement your “burning love.”

(What you remembered and what Tyler made sure you didn’t forget was just how good you were in bed together. The four condom wrappers on the floor were not an anomaly with Tyler.)

He’d gotten you tickets for games, right up against the glass so he could skate by you during warmups and tap his glove against the glass to capture your attention. After a few games, once you’d decided to really commit to the relationship and were official within your friendship circles, he picked up the habit of blowing you a kiss, grinning when you’d blush.

He’s really good at his job and you’re only a little surprised to find that you actually love watching him play. It’s horrific watching him get hit or tossed into the boards, but when he scores a goal and celebrates in a big hug with his teammates you’re always the first one on your feet, screaming your head off.

You’d brought the girls to a game early on in your relationship and all three of them had been surprised at how comfortable you were in the arena and how quickly you’d picked up the rules of the game. It was hard to explain that you weren’t just trying to make a regular relationship work, but a whole marriage. The stakes were just a little bit higher than usual.

The league had a break for the All-Star Weekend in early February and Tyler had surprised you with a trip to Mexico, where you’d soaked up the sun and gotten to know each other better, giving him all the sordid details about your divorce and sharing stories from your childhoods over icy margaritas and more tacos than your body knew what to do with. He’d told you about his early career, his misbehavior in Boston and how much he loved being in Dallas. The long weekend was slow and lazy, leaving so much time for the two of you to really talk and get to know each other. The experimental sex in a hammock on the beach was the icing on the cake.

After that, it was like a switch flipped and all you wanted to do was be with him. Truthfully, you sometimes forgot that you were thrown into the relationship with a marriage and settled comfortably into dating Tyler, folding each other into your lives, moving in with him, telling him you love him and hearing him say it back, cheering him on when Dallas made it all the way to the Western Conference Finals before being bounced in seven games by, of all teams, the Vegas Golden Knights.

Summer break meant a road trip to Whitby to meet Tyler’s family. A drive that should’ve been two or three days took nearly a week because you kept making random stops to see the silliest monuments advertised on the highways. You’d nearly killed him driving through Illinois, convinced this was the end of the relationship and you’d have to pull the trigger on the divorce, and then he had surprised you by stopping at a corn maze and getting lost in it with you almost immediately. Your stomach had hurt from laughing with him and making out like teenagers.

The trip to his hometown had been beyond fun, getting Tyler to show you his childhood haunts and seeing all the baby pictures of him with his mom telling you stories too.

On the drive back to Dallas, halfway through Oklahoma and in the middle of the night, while you’re pulled over on the side of the road to look at the stars, Tyler asked you to marry him. Again.

This time you had the moment committed to memory, the way Tyler’s hands had been shaking slightly with the black velvet box popped open in his fingers. The way Tyler’s speech rambled, like he hadn’t prepared anything or had forgotten his words just as he started talking, explaining how your relationship had started in an unconventional manner, but he couldn’t picture his life without you now. The way you’d started crying almost the second he had turned to you on the hood of the car with that gorgeous ring glinting at you in the moonlight and how you hadn’t stopped until he’d slid the ring home on your finger and kissed you like he’d never kissed you before.

Over the months, the wedding plan shifts and changes, from a summer wedding so you can have a real ceremony and party, the whole nine yards, to what it actually ends up becoming - a quiet inside joke with the two of you in order to keep your anniversary date, a New Year’s Eve party for your closest family and friends to be surprised at midnight when you and Tyler recite your vows.

It’s much easier to plan a party in six months than it would’ve been to plan a wedding.

Jamie Benn, Tyler’s best friend and the dark haired man in Vegas you had initially thought was just you seeing double, is tapped as the officiant, getting ordained online and getting really into his role, not knowing it’s basically all just a front. He just loves that he’s the only one in on the secret, constantly wearing a shit eating grin any time any of your other friends discuss wedding plans for a summer wedding that’s not going to happen.

“I can’t wait to see everyone’s faces,” you admit, hooking your hand in the crook of Tyler’s elbow and letting him lead you out to the car. He does a double take when he notices your hand.

“What’s that?” He taps on the ring nestled on your ring finger. Your original wedding ring from a year ago had been replaced with a real diamond, still an oval, but smaller and more tasteful. But that’s not what you’re wearing right now.

Your lips twist up in a sly smile. The huge, gaudy cubic zirconia is back on your finger, your second engagement ring tucked safely in its box in your drawer. “It didn’t feel right to get married without it,” you admit, flexing your fingers against his arm so the fake gem will sparkle.

Tyler’s laugh is contagious. “Everyone’s going to ask about it,” he warns you.

“Let them,” you shrug. “I want to wear my original ring on my anniversary.”

Hours later, when the surprise has been pulled off and Jamie announces that Tyler may kiss his bride, you fall into your husband’s arms, kissing him with all that you’ve got.

Fireworks go off outside the venue, the countdown to midnight at less than a minute.

“Happy anniversary, wife,” Tyler grins against your lips, quiet enough that only you can hear him.

Around you, the countdown continues, seconds ticking away until it’s January first.

“Happy New Year, husband,” you whisper back, laughing when he dips you back dramatically.

The party continues well into the early hours of January first, you and Tyler having had the foresight to rent out the venue for twice as long as a normal party. You spend the night flitting between dancing with your friends and cuddling up against Tyler’s side, tucking yourself under his arm and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your cheek is pressed against Tyler’s side, the wrinkled fabric of his button down soft under your skin. Your fingers play with the buttons, slipping them from their holes one by one until his shirt is more unbuttoned than not.

Tyler smirks down at you, his hand rubbing an arc over your hip, rucking up the fabric with each upward stroke of his hand, exposing your thigh inch my inch. “Undressing me already, wife? Can’t wait for the wedding night?” He winks at you and you laugh into his chest.

“I think that ship has sailed,” you murmur, sliding your hand under the unbuttoned shirt and over the smooth skin of his stomach, ridged muscles dancing under your touch. You yawn a little, the weird combination of overtired and wide awake making your brain buzz.

Tyler holds you close and leans down a little to whisper in your ear, “want your anniversary gift?”

“Mmm,” you hum, “I thought I already got my gift this morning?”

“That was a wedding gift,” Tyler teases. “This is an anniversary gift, and no, it’s not in my pants.”

You giggle and look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “Shame, I like what’s in your pants.”

“I’ll give you that later,” he promises, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, I stashed it in the coat closet.”

He tangles his fingers with yours and leads you off, getting stopped every few feet by someone else who wants to gush about what a great surprise the party was. “Just couldn’t wait another minute to marry her,” Tyler grins in response every time, making you laugh at his side, the inside secret of your Vegas marriage a warm fizz in your chest.

When you finally escape off to the coat closet, you try to loop your arms around Tyler’s neck and lift up on your toes to kiss him. He obliges you happily, cupping the back of your head and giving you a searing kiss before pulling away. You whine, “I thought we were sneaking off for a wedding night quickie?”

“I literally told you that your gift wasn’t in my pants,” Tyler laughs, kissing your cheek. “Why would you think I wasn’t being serious?”

Your hands find their way underneath his shirt again, fingertips digging into the muscles of his back, and drawing yourself closer to him. “Because I wanted you to be kidding,” you reply. “A little coat closet quickie would be a fun way to start the year.”

“And normally, I’d agree, baby. But I think you’re gonna like this gift,” he leans forward and reaches behind you, giving you the opportunity to press your nose against his collarbone. When he pulls back, he has a fairly large, flat wrapped package in his hand.

“What’s that?” You ask, taking the gift from Tyler as he leans back a little, shoulders resting against the wall, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The package is lighter than you thought it would be.

He nudges your foot with his, “open it.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” you chew at your lower lip. Neither of you had really discussed the fact that it’s your anniversary or gift giving and now you’re a little embarrassed that you hadn’t thought about it. You sway a little on your feet, fingers ripping a little at the corners of the paper until it crumples under your touch and the corner of the gift pokes through.

Tyler shakes his head. “Don’t care. It’s kind of something for both of us anyway,” he says and you wait for the little joke, the tease that you can let him unwrap you later, but it never comes and that’s how you know your husband is about to make you cry with whatever this gift is.

You can feel Tyler watching you as you pull back the paper - leftover Christmas wrapping that’s so clearly been wrapped by a man, too much tape and messy folds. God, you love him - and expose a frame. It takes you a second to process what’s behind the glass, but when you do, you hiccup a little gasp and tears well at your lash line.

Behind the glass is your marriage license with last year’s date and your pair of wobbly signatures. The Polaroids you’d taken that night surround the license and you trace trembling fingertips over the image of you kissing Tyler on the cheek.

“Tyler…” your voice cracks on his name and he gives you a soft little smile.

“This year his been batshit insane, baby,” he leans into your personal space and cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “But I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married.”

Tears are sliding down your cheeks and you nod, “I’m really glad you’re the one I drunk Vegas married, too.”

His laugh is muffled by all the coats surrounding you, but it’s warm and it feels like home. He pulls you into a hug, the frame smushed between your bodies and digging into your stomach, but you don’t care. Tyler’s hand curls around the back of your neck and you wipe at your eyes with the back of your wrist, black mascara smudges streaking across your skin. You giggle a little wetly, “I’m such a mess, oh my god.”

“Everyone will just think you dragged me off so you could have your wicked way with me,” Tyler teases, smirking at you.

“Coat closet quickie for the newlyweds,” you reply, grinning. You settle the frame on the floor, the back of it leaning against your leg, and really wrap your arms around Tyler’s neck, pressing a kiss against the hollow of his throat. The spice of his cologne invades your nostrils and you press your nose harder against his throat, enveloped in his warmth.

Tyler rests his chin on the top of your head and hums, rolling his hips against yours lazily so you can feel the bulge behind his fly. “I could give you a real quick one, just to make sure you don’t have to lie,” he ducks his head to whisper in your ear, kissing at the hinge of your jaw. His hand slides down to graze your ass and you’re nearly ready to say yes, suddenly desperate for him, when a loud bang on the door has you jumping back, heart pounding from the shock, nearly cracking Tyler’s chin with your head. The frame bounces off your leg with your movement, falling to the floor with a little clatter that you hope isn’t broken glass.

“Fuck!” He yelps and you clap your hands over your heart, gasping. “Jesus, who is it?”

Jamie’s voice is choked with laughter as it comes through the door. There’s a slight slur to his words too, as he shouts, “stop fucking on everyone’s coats, we’re doing body shots.”

Your jaw drops open and Tyler rolls his eyes at the interruption. He bangs on the door with a hand and shouts back, “fuck off! I’m trying to spend some time with my wife.”

“Actually,” you say slowly, a little smirk forming on your face, “body shots could be fun…”

“Yeah?” Tyler lifts an eyebrow at you, palm flat on the door.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a wicked grin, “you know I like the way champagne tastes on your skin.”

Tyler’s eyes shut like he’s in pain and your gaze slides down to see the bulge in his pants grow. “You’re a fucking menace and I’m so fucking glad you’re my wife,” he mutters, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you out of the coat closet, nearly knocking Jamie over in his hurry, your shrieked giggles drowned out by the music from the party.

The next morning, afternoon really by the time you finally open your eyes, you wake up with half of your body draped over Tyler’s completely naked one. His hip and thigh is securely wedged between your legs, his morning wood hot against the outside of your thigh. One of your arms is in the sleeve of Tyler’s button down, the rest of the fabric draped over your back like a blanket. The hangover pounds at your temples and the sunlight blinds you and it’s such a deja vu moment you almost think you’re back in Vegas, right until the moment Tyler’s hand twitches against your lower back and he rubs his bearded chin against the top of your head. You melt against him, sighing happily.

“Anniversary party slash vow renewal every New Year’s Eve?” Tyler rasps against your hair, sliding his hand up your spine.

You hum into his skin, “as long as you get me electrolytes and a greasy breakfast on January first, I’m in.”

“How about a headache relieving orgasm first?” Tyler rolls you gently onto your back, already kissing a path down your body. You shiver with each brush of his lips and your legs fall open for him to slot himself between them. He rests his chin on your hip bone and looks up at you with a soft look in his eyes that doesn’t match the hungry smirk that curves his lips.

“What?” You ask, angling your neck to look at him, raking a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was. There’s a little streak of glitter against his temple and you brush your thumb over it, wiping the smudge away.

He shakes his head a little. “Just thinking about this past year,” he lifts one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “How fun it’s been, how glad I am that we did the surprise last night.”

“Getting soft on me, Seguin?” you tease, poking at his side with your foot. He wiggles away a little from your touch, ticklish even though he won’t admit it.

“You know I’m anything but soft for you,” he laughs, nipping at your skin. “Let me prove it.” He presses a kiss against your hip bone and then lower and then there’s no more thoughts, just you and Tyler and the rest of forever stretching out in front of you.

[dizzy-n-busy]

[can (and most likely will) contain SOME poly hcs!]

« D.A.M.N Crew headcanons »

° • ° • ↓ • ° • °

Dams lips get dry quickly, as well as his skin - mostly durin colder months - and has a life time supply of lip balm (cool mint or classic cherry) and moisturizers (coco butter or coconut)

Completely unrelated to Dams; Hux's moms make homemade lip balm and moisturizers !! Literally from their backyard !!

Lasky has a bad center of gravity and sometimes gets himself stuck in whirlwinds when he practices his magic

Gav likes messing/doing the other's hair, he finds it therapeutic

Dams is into nail care for some reason (he feels like he has to be prim n' proper)

FL is multilingual !! Fluent in many languages and tends to switch between them frequently (esp. when stressed)

Since Lasky and FL are human-born I feel like they're genetically smaller than the other three (or those three are jus too damn big)

Gav = Princess peach, Dams = Bowser, FL = Toad(/mario/daisy?), Lasky = Shy guy(/mario) & Hux = Luigi; argue w/ the wall

Dams and Lasky can't hold their liquor, FL and Hux have a higher tolerance and Gav barely gets drunk at all

Dams wears (short) shorts a lot bc he's worried abt burnin anything longer (almost exclusively worn indoors)

Hux likes massages, esp back and scalp ones

FL is strong enough to carry all the boys at least a lil bit (Dams = firemen carry, Lasky = bridal/over the shoulder carry, Gav = koala carry & Hux = at least an inch off the ground)

Gav prolly smells like roses or eucalyptus

Hux's moms house has this SUPER big window-esque wall that opens up into the forest (in their livingroom)

(kinda poly?) FL likes cuddling Hux on his lap, laying on Dams side/next to him, resting their leg across Laskys lap and cuddling Gavs stomach

FL and Gav have convinced Hux that cropped shirts and tight/short shorts are good workout gear (they were right)

Hux has the cutest pout and head tilt

Lasky has the most ADORABLE doe-shaped eyes

Dams likes running his nails across the others backs/skin

FL ass is ALWAYS late, to literally everything - Dams: come at 10:30, FL: 1:03, got it!

Gavs eyes can glow in the dark, bc I said so

The D.A.M.N crew have matching pjs and sometimes do sleepovers

[Bouns! Coworker is invited!!]

Certified hair ruffler, no one is safe

They were relatively nervous at first but it immediately dissipated when FL and Gav asked them if they were their babysitter - free my man Dams

Hux also said they smelled like lavender and fresh laundry

Dams is the 'imma whoop yer ass if yer lil asses don't sit down' type parent and Coworker is the 'settle down guys yer stressin out ma' type parent

ALWAYS brings food, they got snacks on deck too (they needa make sure their bbys are fed)

Naturally colder body temp, scares the crew sometimes when initiating contact (in a good way)

Effusive praiser, it can't be escaped

Psych major idc

Everyone cuddles/leans on Coworker once they got into the crew shenanigans

Coworker = Yoshi (/Rosalina)

Dams #2 fav (they get mani/pedis w/by him)

Huxs fav scalp massager (esp if they grow out their nails)

Gavs #2 fav therapist (/j /lh)

FLs fav advice giver (or date idea giver)

Laskys fav (of all time)

They cried when they got their friendship bracelet and matching pj set (either in front of them or on call w/ Lasky)

• ° • ° ↑ ° • ° •

[petitpiedgalbe]

Spring and summer nail trends!

I thought that having this bright pearl color of pedicure and manicure would be a good opportunity to increase my stock photo portfolio. But what is more important and what makes me really happy today is that today is... friday! So finally I will have some time to work on my new project with Albert and Wood Guys! Wish You all a great weekend, take a rest and have some fun!

[herespaaa]

Discover Nail Perfection at HereSpa: Classic, Express, PYOS Mani & Pedi.

Elevate your nail game with expert treatments at HereSpa. Explore classic, express, and PYOS (Paint Your Own Style) mani-pedi services tailored to perfection.

[wannaeatramyeon]

OMG UR RECENT ZACK LEE WORK IS SO GOOD I NEED MORE PLS AND YES WE LOVE ZACK !!!!! i love the other boys as well but zack hits diff esp bcz he’s one of the first characters introduced 🥹

Ty!! i'm glad you liked the last Zack piece! AGREED he def hits different, part of the OG group, just makes me feel a bit nostalgic for the simpler times. How about some Lookism boys first date HC? Including my faves as well of course

Lookism First Date HC

(Zack, Goo, Gun, Samuel, Jake, Johan - a lengthier Vasco gen + romantic hc here)

Zack Lee

Classic movie and coffee/meal guy (as seen with Mira)

Honestly probably the only guy that would opt for the typical teenage stuff (which isn't a criticism!!)

Will absolutely dress up and style his hair (also as seen with Mira)

But give him absolute and complete free rein? Would LOVE cheesy and domestic shit

Matching outfits, tandem bikes, couples cooking lessons, tour of Seoul so he gets to experience everything with you, farmers market, reenacting home life in IKEA (like 500 days of summer if you've seen it)

Builds up a lot of it in his head but tbh doesn't even care. Just spending time with you? On your own? <3

Would literally want to do anything and everything with you

Goo Kim

Theme/amusement park

Thrill seeking and high-energy to suit this blonde

Tbh a bit too much for a first date as it's an ALL DAY EVENT, but Goo's a bit much anyway

Face paint, character ears, character costumes - he would happily do the whole thing. Think Vasco at Notte World.

A little bit of cash flashing with fast passes and whatever bribery required to get to the front of the queue

Takes a LOT of pictures. More of the mascots and place than you two though

Buying and feeding you all the fun character foods + snacks

Gun Park

Spa. He is so high-end, exclusive, full spa experience

The downtimes we've see him with Goo are surprisingly chill and matches Gun's vibe more than Goo's

Jacuzzis, hot tubs, saunas, steam rooms, massages, manis, pedis - literally anything and everything so you're a puddle at the end of it

Uses it as an opportunity to relax as much as to get to know you

He appreciates a good body, but doesn't check you out as much as you expect and NOWHERE NEAR as much as you eye him up

Keeps his sunglasses on the whole time

Samuel Seo

Tell me this guy wouldn't be out to impress

Completely dressed up, flowers, chauffeur

And there's no way you would be paying for anything at all. He'll even pay for your shopping trip for the date outfit.

Books the most exclusive restaurant in town. Not just that, either opts for a private room or just books the whole place out just for you two

Definitely will involve a helicopter - either to get you A to B, or a night time tour of the city

Will definitely put out on a first date (no judgement). This man exudes sex, let's be honest

Jake Kim

Night time drive and stargazing

Look this might sound sketchy as hell for a first date but it's Jake, he's not a stranger

You already know him but this is your first official date. You both can talk to each other without the chaos of Big Deal and revel in the peace

Super intimate and surprisingly romantic. It's soft and comfortable, he'll be making you laugh a lot

Will take you to a non-sleazy lookout point to look at the stars and maybe share a beer

It's easier for him to be vulnerable with you especially under the cloak of night

Johan Seong

Hiking or picnic or just walking around a park

If this is a first date there is no way that Eden and Miro aren't coming along

The pups might know you already, but this is a big milestone and it needs to involve his babies

Awkward but so endearing. Very skittish. He's not familiar with this sort of situation and blushes a LOT

Absolutely rubbish at small talk or making the first move - you can tell he obviously wants to and likes you though

You best make the first moves unless you want to tiptoe around forever

[theloveinc]

Asking you to talk more on sukuna nd feet 😛😛

of COURSE !!!

I'm just still stuck on thinking about Sukuna being HELLA ancient and that really only coming through in his ... sexual preferences, and by extension... his preferences for the body, right? Which ik we're thinking is his liking for the body as it comes naturally, naked and untouched and etc...

SO, it makes perfect sense that he loves a nicely done-up foot because ... even if you're wearing clothes, a healthy looking, decorated foot is one way to show off the quality of your body without sacrificing much of your integrity, or the appearance of that specific body part... for EXAMPLE:

You can be wearing whatever kind of clothing you want, but with a beautiful mani-pedi and nice shoes, people look at you and KNOW you take care of your skin !!!

And for Sukuna, that's literally... nut-worthy automatically. That his woman is so cared for she, not only has hands, but FEET too, that instead of showing the affects of hard work on them... are pampered beyond belief and always look delicious.

Even if you do use your hands for work, or have hands that show that kind of hard work on them, the second Sukuna attaches himself to you, that's one of the first things he demands you fix (by paying for your spa appointments, of course)... and ain't no way in hell he's taking no for an answer.

(I don't even think it's something he cares about until he realizes he can care about it. He's just chilling, living his best, king-of-curses life... and then one day he notices you putting lotion on your heels before bed and the next time your legs are in the air, he's pressing your feet to his face. Or you put on an anklet just for the day and he doesn't let you take it off ever again, ONLY ever change it so he can hear the sound of it jingle when he's fucking you better. Or you come home with white toenails after a pedicure with your friends and suddenly he's kissing your toes before he eats you out every. single. time. No brain ONLY boner from there on out.)

When he finally gets into the groove, tho (or in an automatic, non-curse AU), Sukuna is definitely picky about what kinds of designs and colors you get during mani-pedis. It's so weird of him because he's a full on evil CURSE, but I know he's walking into that salon right along with you and not just watching your toes get scrubbed and painting, but helping you pick out the colors and diamonds too....

He scrutinizes your poor nail tech sooo hard, one of those guys who takes off from the tip immediately if they accidentally nick you with the clippers, or file something a little too roughly. His inspection face is so funny, because even though he's supposed to be there spending time with YOU, his eyes are on your tootsies the whole time (like a freak).

You can convince him to let you get fun colors (and tbh, you ARE the one who put him onto including crystals or doing frenchies in the first place), but I know he's a such a particular man when it comes to making sure your nail colors are ALWAYS elegant. Loves a classic nude or pink, sometimes lets you experiments with white or a couple crystals... but the whole point is that he never has to see your feet covered again, only ever decorated and in strappy-heels for the rest of TIME.

(And don't even get me started on how much he gets off on watching you do your skincare, too. Anything to do with taking care of your body he loves, adores, is obsessed with; you doing your hair. Putting on your lotion or oils. Washing yourself, your leg up on the side of the bathtub.

Plus, he never wants to see you in makeup or shaving or anything of the sort. He only wants you bare and raw the way you were made... and yes that means he will buy you ¥50000 korean skincare essence but refuse to buy you foundation from the convenience store.)

THANK U FOR ASKING, ANON, LOVE U!

[stardewremixed]

Shower Thoughts

Abigail is a shower girl, singing her favorite punk rock songs slightly off key. Switches up her hair dye every other month. Otherwise, a pretty simple routine. Has mastered the perfect cat eyeliner and a little mascara.

Alex is a soak after a long, arduous workout, and drowns himself in Old Spice products. Uses an exotic scented shampoo - guava.

Elliott is a long bath kind of guy, complete with candles and rose petals, and a writing tray to capture his thoughts. Spends hours on his hair, nails, skin, etc. Immaculate self-grooming habits.

Emily has a whole wind down routine, complete with warm shower, meditation to find her Zen, and lofi sounds to lull her to sleep. Quick shower before work in the morning, fluff drys her hair. It's just that perky.

Harvey is particular about his grooming routine. Cleanliness is next to godliness. He's a shower-to-wake-up-in-the-morning kind-of guy and a shower-to-wind-down-at-night kind-of guy. Frequently shaves and grooms. Doesn't wear cologne so not to disturb his patients with allergies.

Haley spends hours in the bathroom, primping, curling, mani-pedi touch ups, fogging up the mirror with steamy hot showers. Heavy on the perfume. Light floral scents. Flawless makeup.

Sam is a quick cold shower in the morning kind-of dude. Whatever's on sale for cologne and deodorant. Showers daily and uses hair gel. Would totally play with Vincent's rubber ducky if he takes a bath.

Maru is a Navy shower kind-of gal. Freaky fast. She has better things to do with her time. Light sunscreen and a little lip gloss.

Sebastian takes longer than his sister. Rolls out of bed half awake and stands in the shower for a few minutes to be more alert. Thinks about weird stuff in the shower. Like the Reddit argument he had over how to pronounce GIF. The best ingredients for sushi. The weird dream he had last night about the Wizard, a clown, and a ghost dog walking into a bar...

Leah would skinny dip in the lake. Fresh water. Moonlight. Liberating. Not that she does it too often. Otherwise it's a short shower. Turns the shower off when soaping up to save water. Has the same hairstyle since middle school. Lip gloss, brush of dewy foundation, mascara, a little light earthy toned eyeshadow. There. Ready.

Shane avoids it as long as possible. Heavy heavy heavy on the Axe. Does the whole scruff thing. It works for him.

Claire falls asleep in the bath, with a glass of wine, reading a book. Wakes up in cold water realizing she needs to evaluate her life. Buys cheap cosmetics with her employee discount.

Victor is clean shaven... always. He's a normal shower guy, uses aftershave, a little citrus cologne. Sends out his dry cleaning.

Olivia is a luxurious bath lady. Loofah, bubbles, champagne, candles, facial, classical, sit back and soak... ahhhhh! Victoria's Secret perfume. Something strong and vanilla. She's got her makeup routine down pat. Red lipstick is her signature. Looks like a different person when she doesn't wear any makeup.

Penny is sad the plumbing doesn't work half the time in the trailer. She enjoys long soaks in the spa, sweating out her toxins, listening to nothing but the water when showering in the locker room. It's a nice change over her mom yelling at the game on TV.

Lance likes his spiked hair. Lots of mousse and gel to get it perfect. He's a shower-under waterfalls-bathe-in-the-ocean type of gent. Uses a sea salt scrub. Rugged deep woods scented cologne.

Magnus - why shower when you can just use a cleaning spell? Such a time saver! But if he must, he will set up his tub in the woods and soak under the stars.

Sophia - has a grape chapstick she loves, special orders her pink hair dye, washes her feet nightly, showers every other day, no look is complete without her cotton candy blush.

[vixannya]

It's Gallery Time Again!

Friday, November 24th

OoC Information: THIS IS NOT AN IN-GAME EVENT! This is meant as just something fun to headcanon for your character (and write about if you like - especially with @daily-writing-challenge starting on the 26th), if it is something they are able to attend! If you do choose to write any stories about this, please feel free to tag me - @vixannya - in the body of the post and use the tag #7deadlysins!

Vixannya owns an art gallery in Dalaran where she hosts various art exhibitions throughout the year. Two or three times a year, she will display her own work which is always accompanied by a massive grand opening and follow-up afterparty in another location.

Invitations are always given to those who make large contributions to the gallery and to the arts in general, as well as to prominent families from all over, friends, fellow Tarts, and those depicted in her work.

VIP access goes to the largest contributors, her muses, and anyone who purchases one of the pieces from the gallery on opening night. Even if your character cannot attend the grand opening and afterparty, the gallery is open to the public for a month! !Adults only!

Her final exhibition of the year is:

The red carpet treatment always marks the entrance of the gallery,  a place for the guests to show off and be photographed in their designer gowns and suits, or whatever else they choose to wear. The fashion seen here always rivals that of the city’s grandest galas, just don’t upstage the art!

A group of master illusionists have transformed both the inside of the gallery and the afterparty space, with the various rooms mirroring themes in their separate locations. The themes: Pride, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, Wrath, Envy, and Lust. The gallery version of each space is a little more simplified than that of the afterparty, in order to feature the art over all else.

The art itself has a single or multiple subjects, each containing one of the sins in some manner. There are 45 pieces in total; most small or medium size with at least one larger piece in each section. All of the paintings fall within her main area of focus, the one she has become well-known for, Death. All paintings are premonitions of how her living muses will die, according to her. Many of which, in the past, have shockingly come true.

The After Party:

While most of her after parties consist of four very different spaces that match the theme of the gallery itself, this one has SEVEN different spaces to each represent one of the deadly sins.

Pride, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, and Wrath are the ‘safe’ areas! While drinking and drugs are acceptable everywhere, the lewd acts are reserved for the last two sets of locations.

Envy and Lust are the ‘anything goes WITH CONSENT’ areas.

PRIDE: Grand ballroom with a large dance floor, orchestra playing classical music, champagne towers, large chandeliers, waiters at your beck and call.

GLUTTONY: Massive buffets, fine sit down dining, bars with every type of alcohol (and drug) available.

@serazhen can be found working behind the bar!

SLOTH: Massages, saunas, facials, mani/pedis, large hot tubs, any other type of spa service, quiet and nap rooms.

GREED: High stakes poker, blackjack, craps, roulette, jazz musicians and singers.

WRATH: Various popular rock/metal bands and mosh pits to begin the party. DJs playing EDM, raving, neon lights to close out the party. 'Rage rooms' in the back for people to go ham breaking all variety of things!

@tristennedarkmorn can be found performing on lead guitar with one of the metal bands!

ENVY: Cabaret and burlesque performers, aerialists, body shots, live peep shows featuring singles, doubles, or more - with the opportunity to become a part of a peep show.

@rylandfalkov can be found performing in this area mostly on stage, occasionally in the peep show!

LUST: Escorts available, BDSM demonstrations and experiences, private or group rooms, open spaces where anything goes! Masks available for anonymity.

@dicenne can be found here for demonstrations and experiences!

Remember, what happens at the after party stays at the after party!