#bright light houseplants

[cselandscapearchitect]

Aglaonema: The Perfect Houseplant for Busy Plant Lovers

Introduction: For plant enthusiasts with busy schedules, finding the perfect houseplant that thrives with minimal effort can be a game-changer. Enter Aglaonema, the ideal plant companion for those who want to enjoy the beauty and benefits of indoor greenery without the added stress of demanding care routines. In this blog post, we’ll explore why Aglaonema is the perfect houseplant for busy…

[pallanophblargh]

When you’re not supposed to pick favorites, but…

I’ve had this Hoya callistophylla for 1 year and 4 months and she’s come so far. Dare I say, beyond my wildest dreams? (Ha!) I’m gonna need a bigger trellis, and eventually a bigger pot. In the meantime, determined blooming! (More peduncles incoming it looks like)

Found a baby photo for those interested in glow ups!

[elminx]

This is your timely reminder that as the days get colder, your houseplants will (likely) need less water. In October and November, plants are the most likely to get root rot from overwatering in the Northern Hemisphere. So check that soil before you water your precious babies!

[leafbabaplants]

How to Keep Your Houseplants Alive While Going on Vacation

[serendipnpipity]

The Magician: “The representation of pure willpower. With the power of the elements and the suits, he takes the potential innate in the fool and molds it into being with the power of desire.” (x) 

Not-so-little design breakdown below!

Of course Phil had to be the Magician. Take a look at his TATINOF and II segments—the literal reference is already there (and can be seen in his outfit, which is a mix of the TATINOF magician’s tuxedo and the II red button-up).

Not only that, the Magician is characterized as a “master manifester”. How many of this guy’s tarot predictions have come true? Talk about psychic manifestation abilities.

The wand held by the Magician traditionally represents balance, being a “perfect union” of two ends of a candle (x). What’s a more perfect union than PINOF itself, the pinnacle union of dnp’s channels in those first ten years? Hence, the wand in his hand became a Sharpie, and to mimic light emanating out of what would be a candle flame traditionally, I added cat whiskers in bright yellow.

The workbench in front of the Magician holds all four suits (pentacles, cups, swords, wands) to symbolize how everything can be channeled together to create (sorry, “craft”, taken verbatim from the website) new ideas and endeavors. The bench itself I stole straight out of the phouse (other side partial kitchen reveal yay), while the suits have been turned into dnp-project-related objects. The pentacle (glitterface pentagram) and sword (slime knife) are from DAPC, while the wand (Wii remote) and cup (Flame Susan mocktail) are from DAPG. 

This card, helpfully, is surrounded by plants; I chose some of their non-crispy houseplants for the background. In the back, obviously, is the vine creeping along the cool black wall in the kitchen area. In the front, the fronds are inspired by plants I could see in the background of the 2nd London apartment AP set, accompanied by two roses (orange, for the flowers Dan receives at the end of WAD… and the orange heart). 

I saw in the visual breakdown for the card that one site says the infinity above the Magician’s head represents “the equilibrium of opposites that The Magician requires to create”. That is THE most Dan and Phil thing I have ever heard, with all their cosmically coincidental opposite characteristics. 

When I drew that infinity on the background though, on the phouse wall, it hit me. This is the “forever home”. Of course, there’s an infinity sign plastered on top of it. This revelation was so strong, I broke down and texted @bewareofthenewphannie about it.

Oh, and ginger quiff Phil? Thank Misty for that one, they suggested it would be a good look if I wanted to combine past and present in one outfit/style.

All in all, I had so much fun making this! What a pleasure and an honor to be a part of such a beautiful project. 🧡

@dnptarot

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 4: Bring a fox to a bear fight

Words: 8.7k (wft?!?)

Summary: Tensions with Carmy finally snap.

a/n: In honor of a new poster and release date for season 2, here's chapter 4! Hope you enjoy! xx P.S. There will be some spanish in this but if you're a 'no sabo kid' you can shamelessly use google translate❤️

WARNING: Smut ahead, masturbation, p in v unprotected sex (birth control is mentioned), minors DNI but you'll do what you want so don't say I didn't warn you

You felt it before even opening your eyes. The growing migraine had settled camp between your brows while you slept and his companion, an uneasy stomach, had you crawling out of bed and into the nearest bathroom to dispose of the undigested contents of last night. You ungracefully swatted your hair out of the way with half your head inside the bowl when a shadow stood by the door you had forgotten to close in the rush of the moment.

“Ay, mira que bonito!” You heard your mother’s taunting voice above you. “You had fun last night, mija?” She said in a fake sweetness, one hand rubbing over your heaving back as your stomach spewed itself into the porcelain.

The torture stopped long enough for you to look up at her through narrow slits, then feeling the acid crawl its way back up again.

“Isn’t this punishment enough?” You managed to say through a sore throat, spitting the last bit of red saliva inside and flushing. ‘Fuckin’ daiquiris’ 

You stood on wobbly knees from the cold tiled floor and rested your face against the wall by the door, your mother staring amused.

“No, those are just consequences, mi amor.” She smirked, reaching to caress your cheek, but stopped midway in distaste when she saw little remains of spit across it. “Maybe when you're clean.” 

A soft sneer curled on your lips and you made a kiss motion at her.

“C’mon mami, gimme a kiss” You teased, leaning forward.

She took a step back as you took one towards her, reaching to pull at her hands. Her head shook in laughter as she stepped deeper in your room and tossed the towel hanging on the wall directly to your head. It fell with a ‘thunk’ to the ground and your vision blurred slightly while leaning down to pick it up.

“Take a shower, you smell like shit.”  Your mother said on her way out the door. “And grandpa made breakfast!” She yelled from the hallway and the volume had your head pounding with heavy fists at your temples.

With sluggish movements, trying to not upset your already ruined digestion, you moved to your closet for a fresh set of clothes, then to your bed to wake up Syd. You found the space empty and wondered how she had gotten up without waking you, considering you were a light sleeper, but too much thinking made your head hurt so you left it to a mystery.

The bright rays of sunshine filtering through the open bathroom window usually appealed as lovely to your houseplant soul, however as you undressed to shower with a permanent scowl, the soft light burnt a hole through your tired retinas. You dragged yourself inside and as soon as the warm water hit your skin, you sighed in relief. There was nothing a warm shower couldn’t cure. 

As you mechanically went through your routine, you assessed the events of the night before and the crater in your chest hollowed all over again. A few salty tears that mixed with the rosemary and lavender shampoo ran down the drain. Despite coming to terms with yourself that you’d solve everything that same day, the small voice in the back of your head nagged that ‘he probably didn’t even wanna see you, anyway’. You took a few calming breaths under the stream and pictured the perfect scenario to counter rest the dark thoughts swarming your unprotected psyche.

 You’d show up to work as always, hopefully less hungover than you were feeling, and ask him to talk in his office. You’d tell him you were an asshole for hurting him and that you wanted nothing more than exactly what he was offering. You’d bicker back and forth for a while, but ultimately it would end precisely how it should have the night before, in a sweet sweet overdue kiss. You’d maybe even get to fulfill one of the many fantasies that flooded your head when he caressed your face in the small barely lit room.

Your breath hitched at the sudden change in direction your mind was taking you in. Behind closed lids, your consciousness had painted a promising picture of blown irises and tangled locks moving in a rhythmic tempo against you. His pearly skin was tainted carmine from the effort it took to contain himself as he slammed repeatedly into you; trained fingers digging into the sensitive skin of your upper thighs while he held you in place over the disheveled desk. Only the sound of shaky breaths and whispered praises filled the room while he confessed just how good you felt panting underneath him.

The vision in your head felt so real to your body, that your pulse had started racing and it had your cunt squeezing around nothing in frustration. A delicate hand slid down past your navel and a sigh of relief left your shaky lips at the sudden contact of your cold finger tips. You used the clear image in your head to aid the pulsing in between your folds, massaging at an equal pace to your vision. You pictured the veins in his arms, tensed with force, one hand holding you down while the other wrapped around your fragile throat and pulled you into a heated kiss. You felt the vibration from his groan travel down your trachea and straight into the speed of your fingers. Your knees quivered at the thought of his messy kisses down your neck, followed by shaky breaths of barely contained moans, your hands clawing at the skin of his back trying to press his chest closer to yours. All it took was the image of Carmy pulling your legs around his waist with force and  burying his face in your neck, pounding ruthlessly against your skin before a strangled sigh left his mouth as he came, painting your insides white. 

The force of a relieving orgasm knocked the strength off your knees and you used your other hand to lean on the chill tile, the stark contrast in temperature running chills along your sensitive skin.  You took a couple calming breaths until your thighs recovered their strength and the once persistent headache had finally subsided. You finished showering with newfound energy.

Dressed and feeling  surprisingly less shitty than expected, you walked  out into the kitchen drying your hair and enticed by the smell of sausages. You rounded the island where your grandpa stood wearing a ‘kiss the chef’ apron and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He handed you a plate of food with a smile and you thanked him then served yourself from the half empty coffee pot. Syd and your mom were having a lively conversation about where she had learned her great spanish as you silently finished your eggs and sausage, not wanting to add to the already noisy ambiance in the small area. Soft guitar strings played from somewhere in the living room, merging with the soft chirping of birds outside the tall windows that illuminated the room in a golden hue. 

As you took a sip of your coffee leaning on the bar, your mother asked Syd if you had already invited the guys from work to your grandpa's 76th birthday next week. Your eyes grew wide in realization, only then did you remember that she had asked you to do it at least two weeks ago and you had not thought about it since. When she said no, your mother turned to you with a glare hidden behind a smile. You swallowed the bitter liquid and lowered your cup.

“I.. was getting around to it.” You confessed turning slowly and taking your empty plate to the sink behind you.

“What did I tell you, eh?” She began scolding you, “I told you ‘do it today before you forget’ and see? You forgot!”

You finished washing your dirty plate with your back to her and rolled your eyes. 

“I’ll tell them today, I promise!” You told her, drying your hands on the gingerbread man dishcloth that had been out since last Christmas. 

She gave you a long ‘Mhmm’ with crossed arms, eyed you with a scowl then rolled her eyes. “You better! I already told your tia Angie to add an extra ten people for the food, I don’t want anything to go to waste, okay?!” She continued as you rounded up your work bag from the couch and signaled for Sydney to hurry up.

She swallowed the last of her breakfast, slid from the stool and walked to the sink where she was about to wash her plate, but your grandfather took it from her hands and shook his head ‘Guest’ he said and pointed to her. She smiled with a ‘Gracias’ then ran to your room to get her things.

“Yes, I know. I’ll do it today.” You finished, walking over to both of them and giving them a goodbye kiss on the cheek.

Your mother grunted slightly but turned her cheek towards you.

“Oh! And invite that Carmy boy,” She said and your stomach churned. “He seems nice, no?” She whispered and scrunched up her nose at you.

“Syd let’s go!” You yelled ignoring her and walked into the hallway where your jacket hung.

“Thank you for breakfast, bye!” She called out to your family and followed you out the door. “Your mom told me that was your setup in the living room?” 

You looked at her confused then remembered the half finished painting surrounded by empty paint tubes and drying brushes. The events from the day before made it seem like it had spent an eternity sitting to dry.

“Yeah, I like painting. Helps with my anxiety” You shrugged.

Sydney answered with a simple nod as you kept walking down the stairs. She reached up to massage her chin at the memory of tripping over the same steps a couple hours ago and a wave of laughter invaded you both as you made the rest of the way down.

You reached The Beef with a building worry. The plan to solve things with Carmy wasn’t as much a plan as it was an idea, and a vague one at that. You figured you had the whole train ride to come up with something, but it was mostly spent controlling your breath and trying not to puke all over the already sticky floors. So as Syd and you walked through the back entrance, unprepared and slightly nauseous, a stabbing sensation pierced your chest at the sight of an unruly head lifting up to meet your eyes.

The knot in your throat obstructed any possible passage of air and you stayed locked in place, grounded by the weight of his gaze.

“I think I’m gonna be sick again.” You whispered to Syd when you were no longer being observed by heavy pools of aquamarine.

He brought his attention back to mixing the dry ingredients for the rub on the beef, but you could tell his back had grown slightly more tense than usual. You passed beside him to the check in clock, muttering a ‘Mornin’ that he answered with a ‘G’Mornin’ chefs’, plural. Sydney shot a sympathetic look at you before moving to her area, lacking motivation. You debated whether to rip the band aid off now or wait until the end of the day, but knowing your impatient nature you knew the shift would be worse if you did nothing now.

“Uhm, Carmy?” Your voice sounded unsure, his fingers twitched slightly at the sound of it.

“Yes, chef.” He answered, mixing all the ingredients thoroughly in a bowl.

“Do you think we can talk?” You cracked your knuckles at your sides, waiting impatiently for his answer.

He looked at you for a millisecond, without bothering to raise his head completely, then moved to the hallway that led to the walk in.

“There’s nothin’ to talk about chef, we're good.” ‘Okay, so not even on a first name basis’ you thought.

You followed close behind and carelessly threw your things into the office floor, then catched the heavy metal door before it slammed shut behind him.

“Yeah you said that, but I feel like we’re not.” The force of the door shutting behind you pushed you fully inside and you were thankful for the cold climate drying your sweaty hands.

He had his back towards you as he rummaged through the stock long enough for it to be obvious that he was trying to avoid you. You fiddled with your fingers in anticipation, waiting for a word or a look, anything that signaled the start of a conversation.

“We are.” He answered, shooting you a brief over the shoulder glance then back to the rack.

You took in a deep breath and began. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said last nig-” He interrupted with a stern call of your name, hands leaning heavily against the shelf.

“-Chef, please,” He corrected, as if the simple syllables of your name physically hurt him to pronounce. His voice was low but authoritative. “If I say we’re good, then we’re good. Alright?” 

“Yes.” You muttered, doing your best to swallow your heart back south into your chest.

“Yes, what?” He paused halfway in a turn, pulling a metal escoffier with the day's beef.

“Yes, chef.” You said through gritted teeth, irritated eyes locked into his.

His stare lingered on you for a moment longer, the tendon on the side on his neck tensed, then he lifted the heavy container and walked right past you, out the small room. You stayed a few moments longer inside, letting the chill air from the vents hit your overheated face and regulate your breath. With a final inhale, you pushed your way out to face the long day with an upset stomach and a beaten up chest.

**********

“I already fuckin’ told you how, Richard,” You spat angerly at him, the migraine in your head growing by the minute. “It’s not rocket science!”

It was the third time that day that he asked you for help because the tablet would go all crazy on him, that was two more than any regular day and you would be happy to explain how his grease covered fingers were the fucking problem, if it weren't for the massive headache that had you on a chokehold since the moment Tina opened the front door.

“Alright, geez! No need to throw in the government names!” He yelled back, throwing his arms up in desperation.

You sighed and dropped the empty dishes you were carrying on the lower counter beside him, then took one of the clean napkins and placed it in his hand. You moved his limp arm like you would a little kid and wiped the screen in demonstration.

“Okay, okay I get it, get off!” He said before swatting your hand away and continuing the task himself.

He kept mumbling under his breath how you were ‘insufferable when you’re hungover ’ and how ‘Carmy should’ve done a better job last night’ as you rounded up the dishes again and walked into the kitchen, not before painfully jamming your elbow into his side.

The hangover wasn’t the only problem, you had spent most of the morning throwing up and were sure you had gotten rid of most of the alcohol in your system. Having Carmy ignore you most of the day was the bigger issue. He had managed to avoid you all through morning prep and even hid in his office during family. You had maybe seen him two or three times during lunch service, but not once did he look up at you. Between having him act as if you weren’t even there and the constant guilt for how the conversation had gone, you were still trying to debate whether you wanted to try and talk things again. If there was anything left to solve.

You kept yourself busy during the break, setting the new tablecloths around the dining room, making sure they fell correctly and tried to ignore the pooling memories of his soft touches with every fabric you pulled out. Once they were set up to your liking, you took the empty cloth bag and walked back inside to save it with your remaining stuff. When you turned the corner towards the office, your sneakers squeaked at your sudden stop and your brow furrowed at the closed door. It was normally always open and you were sure you had left it that way twenty minutes ago when you had gone in to retrieve your things. You shrugged and kept walking to it, assuming it could have been a draft.

The last thing you expected to find inside was a tall blonde standing in the middle of the room beside Carmy. They both turned startled at the sudden intrusion while you stopped abruptly half way in. Your eyes danced between them for less than a second, a growing warmth of embarrassment holding your cheeks hostage. Carmy averted his gaze as the women scanned you expectantly.

“Uh… so-sorry.” You managed to blurt out, throw the fabric by the floor with the rest of your things and quickly shut the door behind you.

A dense huff left your chest when the door finally clicked shut. You moved back as if it were to combust instantaneously and still somewhat disoriented, traveled to the back for a breath of fresh air.

The soft crunch of gravel under your shoes grew therapeutic after the long day, as the smoke from a nearby cigarette floated to your nose and seemed appealing in the moment. Richie sat on one of the stacked up crates digging on the little stones by his feet, cig in between his fingers as he typed energetically on his phone. He looked up long enough to see you walk towards him with an extended hand to bum out a drag. He did so doubtful because he had never seen you smoke before, but didn’t care enough to ask and offered it anyway.

The numbing sensation spread to your head after the second drag, the voices in the back asking why you had quit in the first place. You handed the shorter tube back to Richie and leaned against the brick wall, still faintly warm from the early spring sun. You played with your bottom lip in concentration, racking your brain for ways you could ask him about the woman you saw Carmy with, without sounding too intrusive. ‘Fuck it, he already thought you were fucking, might as well ask.’ you thought.

You cleared your throat with a small cough and he turned to you with raised brows.

“Hey Richie,” You began, picking at the loose skin around your nails. “D-do you know who that blonde woman is? The one in the office?”

“Blonde woman.. Who, Sugar?” He asked leaning back to get a better look at you, smoke between his curled lips.

You shrugged trying to seem as nonchalant as it was possible, with your anxious brain throwing thousands of scenarios per second.

He took another drag, blew the smoke then spoke. “Oh, that’s uhm… that’s Carmy’s wife.” Richie spoke flatly, scratching above his bottom lip to hide an upcoming smirk.

Are you fucking kidding me?! 

The blood underneath your skin began to boil, you felt hot and cold at the same time and your vision blurred with the threat of unsuspecting tears. Your breaths began to grow shorter but heavier as the acid in your stomach tried to claw its way up for the fifth time. You swallowed hard and snatched the cig from his offering hand, inhaling as much of the toxic fumes as it took to settle your boiling anger back into a simmer.

“Oh. She’s pretty.” Was all you were able to say, though it didn’t reflect the indescribable rage you were feeling.

At who, you weren’t sure. Yourself firstly, for being so foolishly naive to assume that he was different from any other tattooed, apron wearing son of a bitch you had met before. For thinking that he was actually interested in you as a human being and didn’t see you as another gold medal to receive as price for fucking the new girl. You were obviously extremely pissed at Carmen because what the actual fuck?! Who fucking does that?! Of course you knew of one fucking person, but did Carmen really think you were never going to find out? Why had Sydney not told you or did she not know either?

A million questions raced through your mind as you took another long inhale of smoke, eyes fixated on the rocky ground. You were so lost in the whirlpool of rage, you didn’t notice how Richie had pulled another cigarette for himself, leaving you the half finished one.

“Guess you didn’t know then, huh?” He asked, flicking the lighter on and burning the herby tip.

You shook your head slowly, thumbnail in between your teeth, the floating smoke from the ember tip between your fingers reached your eyes and made them water. ‘Yeah, that's what it is’, you thought. You sniffed heavily and regained composure because Richie was the last person who you’d let see you have a breakdown.

The dense metal door opened with a creek and the person you dreaded to see the most stepped out into the empty space. He walked towards you and Richie with his own unlit cig between his lips, brow creased when he eyed yours.

“Didn’t you quit?” He asked, nodding his head towards the short tube between your lips. 

Pushing yourself off the brick with a last inhale of smoke, you flicked the end into the nearby garbage and walked past him without a single glance in his direction. You didn’t trust your voice or anything that would come out of it if you decided to answer, so you pushed your way inside and let the broth of your heated emotions simmer in your chest for what was left of the day.

You did what you do best when pissed, suppress everything in a little dark corner in your head and focus on the task at hand, the task now being getting through the dinner rush alive. It seemed like people knew you had a shitty day and could use the distraction because they had not stopped coming in since the doors were reopened at five. Between orders and clearing tables, you had only looked at your watch twice all afternoon, the last being twenty minutes ago when it read 8:30pm. 

Carrying the last of the empty dishes into the back, you spotted Angel leaning lazily against the rack holding the clean kitchenware. You placed the plates lightly on the empty space beside the sink and he groaned in response to seeing them.

“I take it ‘adventure’ was fun, then?” You said teasingly then patted him on the back. “Those are my last ones!” You let him know, walking back out to finish cleaning your station.

A few customers lingered around, only two or three sat on the counter while they waited for their to-go orders, but other than that the dining room had grown empty. It was only then that you felt the weight of the day's events fall hefty on your overworked back. You placed your cool fingertips over your tired eyelids, taking a few long breaths as the dam you had kept all your anger behind began to crack. All you could see were flashes of swaying blues and golden brows as the choir in your brain listed all the reasons you were an idiot for putting your trust in someone again.

‘Please don’t ever think for a second that I would do anything to hurt you.’ The once sweet words now ran like bitter sap down your throat, the stickiness gluing it shut and leaving everything inside to brew until it reached a break point. You didn’t know if you were angrier at him or yourself. You tried to search your memories for any indication or mention of a partner, a ring or maybe even a tan line across his finger, but they all hit a dead end.

Frustration and sadness were a dangerous cocktail mixing at the back of your eyes and picking at your tear ducts, you rubbed hard until you saw stars to try to get the sensation out, but it only seemed to make it worse.

‘No, you are not gonna break now’ you reminded yourself, pulling the tears back into your eyes with a loud sniff. ‘You’re going to finish your shift, tell Carmy where he can stick his stupid fuckin’ spoon and never come back again’. 

You had made that clear in your head while running orders. Every time you picked a new one from the expo and saw his inked hand push it towards you, the annoyance grew uncomfortable in your chest and you had to bite your tongue to the point of injury. You couldn’t stay like this, not when only a couple hours ago you were ready to break your most personal foundation for him, not when some fucked up part of your brain had made you believe that you could even get to love him, and he you.

It seemed of little value now, to think of this place as your safe haven when now you were afraid to catch him around every corner. Afraid of whether you’d want to slap him or kiss him because that’s how confusing your head was starting to feel. An almost inaudible voice in the back had planted the doubt that ‘Maybe this was Richie’s way of getting back at you for being a bitch all day and none of it is true’ but even if it was right, that didn’t take away the fact that things were never going to go back to how they used to. 

If it weren’t true and you stayed, that still left the guilt of rejecting him looming above you both, persistent, dark and never ending. And if it were and you still stayed, knowing that he had consciously tried something with you while having someone waiting for him at home would rip you from the inside out. The last time that happened, you almost didn’t make it out… and nothing promised that this time would be any different.

With the new found heaviness of old wounds, you cleared your throat from the asphyxiating knot  and continued to clean the mess left on the table, for what felt like the last time. You thoroughly scanned the room for remaining garbage, then took the last bags out to the back dumpster. One last swipe of the counters and there was nothing more left to do. You wanted to keep looking for things to do, things to clean or rearrange. Anything to delay the inevitable. But as you turned off the light inside the closed space, you knew you had to do it.

The kitchen was empty as you made your way slowly through the hallway, everyone had gone home at least twenty minutes before. Syd had even asked if you wanted company, but you denied it politely, knowing it was something you had to do alone; besides you didn’t know how rude you were gonna get and were in no need of an audience. 

A growing anxiety took a hold of your chest as you reached the small office door and you spotted Carmy sitting with his back towards the entrance. Your step faltered when your legs grew weak at the thought of confrontation and as if he could feel your presence, the chair turned in your direction. He swallowed at the sight of you, brows raised in surprise, weighing heavy on your heart. You forced yourself inside and leaned down by the foot of the door that had become a foster home for your bag during the last month and a half.

He cleared his throat with a cough and you looked up at him expectantly.

“You headin’ home?” He asked, playing with the pen in his hand.

Swallowing the knot back down, you nodded and stood straight. “Yeah.. and I won’t be back.” His expression changed to one of worry. “So… thank you and fuck you.” 

With the strap held like a lifeline, you turned in place and tried to make your way out of the small space before he had a chance to react.

“Wait, wait, wait-” He said loudly following behind you.

He quickly rounded the station through the other side and reached the hallway that led to the steward area and the backdoor before you, extending a strong arm against the rack and locking you in. You stopped abruptly, almost knocking face first into his bicep, then took two steps back for space.

“Can you please, tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, almost as much as you were avoiding his intense stare. He took a step forwards, lightly leaning down to your eye level and that made you glare at him instantly, because was he fucking squaring up at you? You stood your ground and raised your brows in defiance. You could see the muscles in his jaw tense up, eyes swirling with a hurricane.

“I don’t want to work here anymore… with you.” You answered with difficulty. Your voice was betraying your stand.

“Why?” He asked with a blank stare.

“Because I don’t think it’s ethical.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like you.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re a son of a bitch.” This began to frustrate you.

“Why?”

“Because how fuckin’ dare you hit on me when you’re fuckin’ married!” You finally exploded.

“Is that all this is about?!” He finally answered clearly.

“What do you mean ‘Is that all’!  That “all” is a big fuckin’ deal!”

“Who told you that shit, anyway?!” Carmy asked frustrated, the tint on his skin rising up his neck.

“I saw her in your office, what? You thought I was never gonna find out?!”

“Who, Sugar?!”

“Yes, Sugar!” You shouted exasperated, had he always been this irritating? 

He breathed out a humorless laugh, one hand rubbing his mouth, the other on his hip as he stared down at you.

“Sugar… is my fuckin’ sister. Wh-who told you that married shit?!” He asked, waving his hand angrily in the air.

“Doesn’t matter, the fuck was I supposed to know that?!” You shouted back, too deep in now to swallow down the contents of your mistake, scattered all over the floor.

“I don’t know, maybe you could have asked me!”

“Oh, like you would tell me shit.” You responded, rolling your eyes at him and crossing your arms over your chest. It was a lost fight but you were too stubborn to admit you were wrong now.

“Seriously? That’s fuckin’ rich coming from you. You wanted me to believe I scared you into leaving!” He takes another step towards you and this one has you sliding a couple inches back.

“I said I was sorry, okay?” The heavy pounding vibrated inside your ears as adrenaline mixed blood traveled faster into your head. 

“Yeah well, you say that a lot lately.” He answered sarcastically, the pain hidden behind thin humor had your arms lose their grip and fall flaccid beside you.

“Look, that’s not the point,okay? The point is I can’t stay here.” You reply defeated, a pang of guilt hitting your stomach.

“Why?! Cause of some made up wife that turned out to be my sister?!” 

You turned to the metal table behind you and dropped your bag on top with a loud clang of what you assumed were your keys inside. Sweaty palms rested on top of the cool surface and you let your head hang low while you tried to calm your anger down. Maybe you did go a bit too far by not asking him first, but in your defense, being hot headed was part of your nature.

“No Carmy- because I can’t stand seeing you every second of every day and not being able t-to touch  you or-or kiss or do anything about all these stupid feelings inside! ” You finally confessed when you could no longer see his intense stare. The words stumbled out like the alcohol contents of that morning, heavy, fast and unstoppable.

Your heavy breaths and the running motor of the walk in are the only sounds audible in the reduced space. But if you could take a peek in either of your heads, you’d be surprised at the amount of swarming voices trying to decipher a million thoughts per second. Your eyes were fixated on the carefully organized spices resting on the second level of the table.

“So that’s your plan, then? Leavin’ cause you like me too much, but you can’t do anything while you’re here.” He whispered and you heard the light squeak of his kitchen shoes as he moved closer to you.

As the cloud of anger slowly dissipated, giving pathway to clear thoughts, the undertones of his words appeared unobstructed in front of you. You blinked continuously as you played out the idea in your head.

“Yeah… I-I guess.” You mumbled.

A soft breath escaped your lips when you felt a warm touch contrast to the chill surface. You looked down to your left hand, a bigger one placed carefully on top, skilled fingers inching close to the free space between yours, a tickling feeling erupting at the touch. Your fingers rounded softly around his and that was the sign of reassurance he needed to step closer to you, chest pressing fully to the length of your back and caging you to the table.

He held your palm like delicate glass under his rough hand, both of your eyes trained on the curved limbs, afraid the eye contact would strip your souls too bare. Carmy whispered your name like a prayer, voice soft enough only for you to hear in the empty space, a wisp of sultry air hit the base of your neck and erupting chills around the sensitive skin.

“You are amazingly smart, really fuckin’ funny and it would be a lie if I said I wouldn’t miss you… but if having you with me means not seeing you here every day, then I will gladly fire you myself.”

A breathy laugh left your lips, soon replaced by a sharp intake when you felt his fingertips brush gently at the base of your neck, moving your hair out of the way then leaning down to place a tender kiss to the skin. Your vision blurred at the edges from the simple touch and the hand holding his, locked tight around tattooed fingers. He kept planting small kisses to your rising skin, stealing small gasps from your chest, finding it adorable and amusing all at once. You felt a shy smile against your neck as his right digits skimmed over the soft velvet of your other arm.

It was ridiculous how his effortless touch had you almost losing grasp of your self control so easily. You tried to regain your composure, or at least concentrate on what would leave your mouth next, other than shameful gasps. Your mouth fell dry when his right hand curled at your waist and when he pressed himself closer to you, your lips parted open like a fish praying for a drop of water outside the ocean.

“Want me to stop?” He whispered in between pecks. He knew your answer from the way your body was reacting to him, but the never ending voice in the back of his head made him doubtful.

You shook your head no, not trusting the words in your mouth, swallowing dryly,  and took the chance to turn around as best you could in the limited space. With heaving breaths and a thumping heart you finally looked up into the cloudless sky trapped in his eyes. Your brows furrowed at the marvelous change they reflected from the tired man you had grown to care for.

Now with a clear head, a different answer manifested in your mind as the one you had given the night before. If it meant you had to lose one thing to gain another even better, then so be it. You weren’t breaking any self imposed rule, only finding a loophole around it. There was no doubt in your mind that you wanted this. No angry voices in your head alarming you of what a terrible idea this was. It was only you, him and the prospect of a future together, however long it may be.

You stood on your toes and at last, closed the little distance left between your lips, He kissed back almost immediately, like he had been waiting for this exact moment, soft hungry lips dancing gracefully against each other. His hands moved to wrap around your waist again, pulling you closer as yours curled hard around the flimsy material of the white shirt on his torso. You bit lightly on his bottom lip and a small groan vibrated from his throat into yours and directly in between your thighs.

Without an inch of hesitation, he parted from your kiss and strong arms lifted you up to sit on the chill metal. Your legs opened for him to step in between and your cheeks would have gone crimson at the way they parted instantly if he would have given you a chance, but immediately after moving into the welcoming space, his hand circled the back of your neck and crashed your lips to his again with new found passion. The view was parallel to your imagination and a soft moan escaped your lips at the sweet memory, one he swallowed gladly. His other hand massaged your upper thigh, thumb brushing tenderly over the inside of your jeans, very close to the pulsing center where you needed him most. 

You held on to his shoulder in support and threaded your fingers through his hair, just like you had imagined many times before. His hand squeezed your thigh deliciously at a pull to his roots and the vibration that escaped his throat allowed you to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue to caress his own. Your lungs burned from the lack of air but you would rather die by asphyxiation than lose the rhythm you had carefully cultivated with him.

The hand on your thigh traveled back slowly, both meeting at the base of your spine. Still in your cloudy haze, you expected him to continue his exploration down, but his fingers stayed spread out at the bottom of your back, unable to move. With hands still knotted in golden strands, you circled your legs around what you could reach of his hips and pulled him closer than before. An involuntary snap of his pelvis against your core ripped a surprised whimper from your mouth and the sound seemed to be enough of a push for his hands to reach down to your ass, pulling you to the edge of the metal and kneading the tender flesh.

You could feel the straining bulge against his jeans as he continued to grind persistently, a strong grasp on your body. Short gasps escaped your lips at the friction, just enough to get you riled up but not to reach the high you were chasing. Peeling your lips from his to take a heavy breath, you pecked down his jaw and up to his ear where you rolled his lobe between your teeth. He shivered under your touch, a shaky laugh leaving his lips as his head fell on your shoulder and his movements faltered.

“Carmy… ” You pleaded into his ear.

It didn’t matter if you sounded pitiful, the only thing you needed at the moment was for him to take you hard on that table. You let go from his hair and dropped your hands to the buttons of his black jeans while you worked his ear between licks and tiny bites. His hands mirrored yours, fluidly popping the buttons open and sliding the thick material down your legs. Your sneakers fell to the ground with an empty noise when you kicked them off as he discarded your jeans somewhere on the kitchen floor, then pushed your hand down the loose waistband of his jeans and boxers to his welcoming hard cock.

His breath got caught in his throat from the sudden touch of your ever-cold hands, a heavy moan leaving his lips and tickling the inside of your neck. You stroked the surprising length with slow movements. You didn’t expect him to be so… gifted, at least he didn’t carry himself like it. It was a nice shock, one that had you grinding against nothing on the cool metal.

He must have sensed your desperation as a struggling whine left your mouth, because he placed a trail of soft kisses back up to your face. One of his hands rubbed your cheek tenderly, softly shushing you while his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

“Shh, it’s okay” Carmy muttered with a low raspy voice. “I got you… I got you.” He placed soft kisses over your whimpering lips. The change in his tone from what you were used to made the movements of your hand waver inside his jeans and you squeezed lightly around his cock.

With no warning, skilled fingers rubbed at your folds through the fabric of your damp underwear, forcing a guttural moan to escape the deepest part of your being. He repeated the circular motion whilst peppering around your heaving lips with wet kisses. Using your thighs for support, you grind your hips to his palm, looking for release and speeding up your movements carefully on your other hand.  He answered your actions by pushing your underwear to the side and massaging the tender area at a torturous pace.

A shock wave traveled up your spine at the contact, your hips chasing after his touch. He teased your entrance with his middle finger, rubbing around it but not quite going all the way.

“Fuck… Carmy, please” You managed to say between gasps, pushing your hips towards him to stimulate the friction.

“Please what?” He asked through gritted teeth, screwed brows betraying the blankness in his voice.

 You tried following his movements, but the hand on your cheek quickly snapped down to your soft thighs, pressing you down with strength onto the counter top, a small smack rippling through your skin and vibrating tight down to your core.

“C’om on, chef… use your words for me.” He whispered near your ear and the simple sentence had your cunt gripping around nothing. “D'you want me to fuck you?” He asked, middle finger dipping halfway into you with a torturing pace. “To fill you up here, in the middle of my kitchen?”

Oh. Oh.

This was new. As well as the bubble of excitement growing in the valley between your legs. You had never been a fan of dirty talk, but the way your body was reacting to his words made you believe that no one had done it correctly until now. Gone was the stuttering man who couldn’t hold eye contact with you at the start, now replaced by some smooth motherfucker who could make you come with just his words.

“Yes… please” Short gasps followed your words. 

“Yes what?” He pulled his mouth from your neck and stared down at you through hooded eyelids.

You could feel his pulse vibrate through his heavy dick in your hand as short breaths left your kiss swollen lips. The words fell thick in your throat, trapped between a whine and a gasp. Your thoughts streamed rapidly in your head and you knew that no future scenario would ever live up to this moment. You knew it wasn’t just about the sex he was asking approval for, it was about the whole conversation. The fight, the confession, the plated tray with his heart atop it that you had left untouched the night before. He needed the reassurance that this was not a goodbye or a one and done.

“Yes chef” You whispered with no doubts. 

You pulled your hand from inside his jeans, then used your legs to pull them further down and finally free his erection from its confined space. And without taking your eyes off his, you reached up to your mouth, stuck out your tongue and swiped a thick coat of saliva to your digits. His lips parted in a daze, dark eyes flickering to your lips then back to your glossy stare.

The moment your hand made contact with his pulsing girth, he knew he was done for.

He pulled your hips to the edge, then carelessly removed your underwear and his shirt. Your eyes caught on dark designs decorating his hard abdomen and rib cage, and your mouth watered at the idea of tracing your tongue on each individual line, but the velvet tip of his cock sliding between your opening knocked all the thoughts inside your head.

“Shit..”He said under a shaky breath “D-do you have one?”

His forehead pressed to yours, both sets of eyes fixed on the view below them.

“No but, uhm.. I got an IUD. I-I’m all set.” 

“Yeah, no..uhm, I mean cool, t-that’s great.” He responded with a nervous laugh.

“Yeah..” You answered amused.

You held his cock in your lubricated hand as his tip found your entrance, then slowly disappeared past your folds. A shared groan vibrated in the closeness of your chest when a delicious ache tingled along your cunt at the sudden stretch. Carmy dropped his head to place a kiss against your clothed shoulder and circled his hands under your thighs for a better grip. He stayed immobile for a couple long seconds, basking in the tight hold your pussy had around him, so much better than what he had ever imagined.

You shuttered beside his ear when he unsteadily pulled back almost to the tip and a small smile curled on his lips. Carmy took a calming breath to ease his racing heart, and without warning slammed his hips deep into your own, thick fingers kneading at the underskin of your thighs. The force of his pace pulled the last puffs of air from your lungs, leaving you a panting mess underneath his touch. One of your hands gripped the slick surface behind you for support while the other clawed against Carmy’s back, pressing him impossibly closer to you.

A thread of ‘Fuckfuckfuck’ and ‘Oh god’ spilled from your mouth with each strong thrust assaulting your body. Your senses were overwhelmed by his actions, every individual pound against you was followed by the obscene sound of slapping skin and blurred vision. His hips snapped repeatedly into you, pushing everything out of the way and filling you up with only him. You could feel him so deep in you that the taste of his cock lingered on your tongue.

The force of his movements rattled the legs of the table and a few spice containers fell around you, but that didn’t seem important enough for him to stop his brutal force.

A long fuck shaped groan left his throat, the dirty noise making your grip on his dick tighten.

“Fuck C-Carmy” You breathed out with wavering strength.

He separated from your neck long enough to admire how beautiful you looked under him. Baby hairs stuck to your sweaty forehead and rubies decorated your freckled cheeks. Your eyes were blown wide and brows knit together as you took in every of his firm thrusts. He could see the soft bounce of your breasts under your thin shit and he could only dream of what he would do with them when you had more time.

“W-what” You asked him when you caught him staring longingly at you.

His movements slowed down but didn’t stop fully, only enough to take in the full view of your glowing skin and panting chest.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” He sighed and a breathy laugh vibrated softly against your joined bodies.

 He pulled you into a soft kiss, savoring the taste of the heated moment and categorizing it under one of the best things he had placed upon his tongue. A sharp gasp ripped from your chest when he snapped his pelvis deep into you, hitting a specific spot that left you a mumbling mess under his tips. He did it again, just to see you fall apart at his touch, head falling back and gasping for air. 

Carmy found the whole experience extra corporeal and as if something had gained total control of his body, his hands carried your thighs higher up and pressed them to your chest, each socked foot resting on his broad shoulders. You took your nails from his back and rested both pals behind you, keeping you upright. Then he angled himself to where he felt a soft stop inside you and began to snap his hips against it.

The sensation was so strong you could barely mutter his name. You felt him everywhere, so deep you could feel him up your throat, in your bloodstream and every individual cell in your body. Your skin burned to the touch and nothing other than him pounding ruthlessly against you made sense in your mind. He was fucking you stupid, pulse beating in your navel and eyes covered in blinding stars.

You tried to let him know, warn him even, but nothing other than his name fell like prayer beads from your heaving lips. You squeezed your cunt around him and a small falter in his actions gave you some room to breathe.

“Fuck I-I can’t, Car-Carmy I'm gonn-” You struggled, waiting for the air to reach your lungs, but it was all tainted by the smell of sex and him.

“Let go, baby, let go” He cooed between moans.

And it was all you needed to hear to finally lose yourself completely to his touch. The smacking noise grew louder as he gripped your thighs with one arm around them, then the other traveled between you, placing his thumb above your swollen clit and pushing down in insistent circles. 

The pressure in the base of your belly ultimately broke with a snap and an uncontained moan painted the walls of the empty kitchen in a lilac hue. Your vision blurred as tears of bliss gathered under your eyelids and your body floated into nothingness. Your walls pulsed around his dick with two more thrusts and that was enough for him to follow you down the rabbit hole of your joined orgasm. A choked growl vibrated in his chest and streaks of red crawled their way up his neck and buried at his cheeks with his release.

His grip on your legs loosened when he used his hands to steady his weight against the table, and let them fall carefully around his waist as he catched his breath. With his head hanging low, he pecked small kisses to your exposed skin. Your head hanging back with eyes shut, trying to enjoy the last ripples of pleasure turning into shallow waves. One of your hands caressed up his sweaty skin and buried into the tangled mess of his hair lovingly.

A soft pleased smile covered his features, closed eyelashes feathering lightly against yours. His large palm rested beside your still trembling thigh, soft thumb rubbing calming circles and a small chuckle left his lips.

“It was fuckin’ Richie, wasn’t it?” He asked, breaking the pleasant blissful silence you had sat in for however long it took to settle your raging heartbeats.

You nodded in response with your own small laugh and heard him mumble a ‘Fuckin’ Richie’, raising his head and looking lovingly into your glossed over eyes.

“It’s okay, I’ll just tell everyone he’s the reason I quit so they hate him for a little while.” You whispered and a beautiful sound left his lips.

It was a soft relaxed sighed laugh, the kind you don’t have to force and that vibrates directly from your chest out, brightening the space around you. Your chest tightened at the melodious sound and your brows scrunched up in awe when he finally opened his eyes again. The ever present line of worry above his brows was gone, leaving behind only the tint of rich aquamarine and sapphire blues.

Chapter 5.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne and that’s it lmao

[hippodamoi]

recently i’ve been thinking about the confines and pressures of society. how much women smother their own ideas, talents and interests to force themselves to do things they don’t want to. that simply was never for them. just for the approval of society. stupid faceless strangers as well as overbearing relatives. 

 the societal pressure to fit in. to not rock the boat or make others uncomfortable. the natural human yearning to just belong. both are intensely strong compulsions. young girls will fake crushes on boys to be like the other girls, teen girls will force themselves to date boys they dislike or are bored with for the same reasons, or to convince themselves that this is what they must do to belong. we’ll dress, shave, talk, fake interests and mold ourselves like clay to be like the others. to be what’s expected of us. students will enter majors they have no interest in, or professions they hate because it will translate to social capital. there is almost no greater anxiety and fear for a young person than to not belong. young women will try and try and try yet again to find a man they love, convinced they’re the one who’s lacking or wrong and harming themselves, sometimes irreparably, in the process. 

those very compulsions keep women in the chains of matrimony. in the bondage of motherhood when they never wanted responsibility for anything more than a houseplant. in relationships with shitty men where they have to do all the chores; the dishes, the laundry, the vacuuming, the mopping, the dusting, the changing of sheets, the cooking, the shopping, the emotional labour, the childcare, the care for the elder members of the household, because they were lied to. society told them this was the path to happiness, to stability, to being a functioning member of society when all it does is smother them. drain the light from their souls and kill their creativity. 

i mourn the women lost on the path prescribed by society. by their parents, their fathers, their religious communities and leaders. how much poetry, how much art, how many novels, how many statues, how much architecture, how much technological, psychological, social progress have we been robbed of. how many bright and vivacious and beautiful girls have withered away under the weight of matrimony, their lifeblood drained away by parasitic husbands and children. 

i consider with kindness those that spent a lifetime uncertain and searching. those that knew - those whose fingers itched and ached to draw, to paint, to write, to argue, to hold a scalpel or a gavel, but smothered their souls and selves into nothing knowing there was no space for them. those who never had the opportunity or even thought to question themselves and their path - who just lived with the resignation that life was just like that. it is what it is. dreaming about things you can’t have will hurt more than just accepting reality.  how many women lived with guilt, shame, fury and the void inside of their chest thinking that, that was all there was or ever would be to love. to life? 

[junowritings]

Hello! Could I please get a Baldur's Gate 3 matchup? Any gender is fine ^-^

I'm an autistic girl who also has adhd, asthma and chronic joint pain. I work as a librarian currently and am simultaneously very smart and scholarly and also full of energy. I'm definitely the sunshine person in a group, I love taking care of people and I'm very good at making other people laugh, I have a very dry witty sense of humor. I'm also super short, 4' 10"/147 cm, but I can get kinda insecure about it when dating. I have a very boyish style, long wavy auburn hair that floofs up around my head, glasses and I'm pale and covered in moles and freckles. I also love being out in nature, and if I can't be I bring nature to me, I have tons of houseplants.

Thank you so so much, have a great day!!

I just wanna say now that the line between two characters was so close I damn near considered doing both, but ultimately one boy won out for you lmao.

With that being said, I match you with...

You know who’d give you the love you so rightly deserve? HALSIN.

Halsin’s mere presence exudes a warmth that is difficult to put into words - it’s one of the many reasons others seem to flock to him for guidance or look to him for comfort. Perhaps it is that warmth that leads you to his side.

The first few interactions with the druid, the two of you hit it off like nobody's business. Halsin is the kind of man who with your equally vibrant personality makes it feel as though you’ve known this man for months longer than you actually have.

There’s a fierce focus behind your eyes that speaks of your sharp wit and intelligence, your pursuit of all things knowledge and academic clear from his very first meeting with you. There’s nothing that Halsin loves more than watching that fire kindle when something’s caught your interest, fascinated by the way your whole demeanor seems to brighten when something has managed to spark up your passion. You call yourself a sunshine person, but to Halsin you’re almost akin to the sun; a bright presence who warms up the very air around you as though breathing life into every place and every person you touch. Halsin would find himself wanting to see more of it; compelled to see what else he can do to get you to light up like that and bring out that radiance he’s so quickly begun to associate with you.

He will absolutely visit your workplace in the middle of the day. Of course he’d much prefer to take you outdoors any chance that he gets, but understands that the library is your territory - a fitting workplace, he comments, considering your pursuits. Expect his visits to be spontaneous though; whenever he finds himself thinking or pining for you he just follows the desire to seek you out to spend time at your side. The only warning that you’ll likely get is seeing his unmistakable figure outside of your peripheral before you’re scooped away from whatever task you’re working on; this can be cute but expect a few book based casualties if you happen to be holding any at the time. He’ll try not to disrupt your work, but let's be honest, having this big guy watching you with a gaze loving enough to make ice melt you’re gonna cave no matter how resilient you may be.

You’ll quickly begin finding little gifts left around your workspace, all of them expressions of his affection. Most of them, unsurprisingly, are plants; not only because he finds that nature can breathe a life into even the most mundane of places, but also because your mutual appreciation of nature makes him believe that you would enjoy nature’s gifts. Given your own love of nature you may find your coworkers suspecting you’re the one bringing them in; that is until they catch him on his way to you with a potted ribbon plant cradled in his arms.

You brim with energy, enough so that even Halsin finds himself caught up within the wake of it. His heart swells watching you care for others and bringing them joy as though it’s second nature. The willingness to care and tend to others is a trait so easily overlooked in the world, and given that Halsin has more than once taken on such a role in the past and present he finds a kindred spirit in that kind nature of yours. Dote on him, try to make him laugh, and watch this man melt for you like honey in the sun. Be it with your words or your touch, your care touches a place within his chest; one that carves a place in his heart for you to fill like it was made for you. 

With that being said, the role of a caretaker so often comes with the consequence of overlooking your own care. This is a man though who knows that those who love taking care of others need the exact same love and attention lavished upon them in kind; and there is no one more eager to do so than himself. The care of oneself is just as important, and giving yourself time to heal and relax is vital. Taking you out into nature is a predictable date idea for the druid, but he does it to also get you away from the hustle and bustle of your everyday life if only for a few hours. To allow you a moment to breathe, ease some of the burdens from your shoulders, and give you a place away from others to vent and give yourself some peace.

Plus outdoorsy dates in the middle of nowhere gives him the excuse to remain affectionately glued to your side under the pretense of sticking close together - a fact he has no hesitation admitting to if you call him out on it.

His care also extends to your chronic pain. If you suffer from flare ups in your joints Halsin will insist on helping you in whatever way he can, so long as you’re comfortable of course. Balms and healing spells aplenty - anything that he can do to alleviate even a fraction of your suffering he's happy to do without a second of hesitation. He’d wish nothing more than to ease that pain from you entirely, but he does what he can to make the worst days a little more manageable.

Tall king won’t even think twice about your height, nor the potential insecurity that you are dealing with as a result. He strives to be accommodating for you, and there is not an inch of you that is not loved fully and wholly by this guy. If you open up about any potential insecurities, rest assured that he will devote every second of that very day reminding you of his appreciation for your form, and every little mark that makes up who you are.

If you think this man won’t kiss every single one of your moles and freckles, prepare to be proven so very wrong. Literally his favorite pastime when you’re cuddling is to kiss the freckles and marks that he can reach, whether that’s your face, your shoulders, your back, arms, or anywhere else. Has a habit of kissing the marks on your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours and brushing his nose along the top or palm of your hand before planting a kiss. Sometimes gets a little too enthusiastic with the kisses. He’s smushed your glasses into your nose a couple times beneath the barrage of his kisses, but your complaints about it are only met with a rumbling chuckle as he leans up to place an apologetic kiss to the bridge of your nose. Depending on where they are he’ll trace along those freckles and moles, mapping them out reverently beneath his fingertips as though committing them to memory. There’s a softness in his expression whenever he does this, but don’t call him out on it unless you’re gunning for some more kisses.

I do hope you’re prepared for your home to become a greenhouse! With both of your meticulous care your houseplants will practically thrive before your very eyes, and soon will be growing in number the more that Halsin integrates himself around your home. It’s as though he’s bringing the very outdoors inside with him, and he’s in turn deeply impressed by the attention and love which you have poured into the plants that take residence within your home.

[pearlprincess02]

would draken date you ?

for his taurus sun:

taurus, virgo, capricorn, cancer, scorpio, and pisces suns

for his scorpio moon:

aries, capricorn, pisces, and scorpio moons

for his virgo rising:

taurus, capricorn, cancer, and pisces risings

for his taurus mercury:

taurus, virgo, and capricorn mercuries

for his aries venus:

aries, leo, sagittarius, scorpio, and libra venuses

for his pisces mars:

pisces, cancer, scorpio, virgo, capricorn, and taurus mars

• ° + ° • 

5th house:  capricorn and cancer placements

capricorn in 5th: doesn’t have time for games. a reliable, and loyal partner. serious in the dating scene/at the beginning of a relationship. flirting style is traditional(man speaks up first, clever, etc). dinner, museums, wine tasting, etc are good date ideas for you. hobbies may range from reading, working, shopping, learning abt history, collecting, etc. might like classical music, chill music/slowed + reverb, music from back in the day, etc. most likely one of your children will have capricorn/saturn in their chart, probably the oldest. children may be responsible, “boring”, caring, standoffish, reliable, etc since these are the traits of capricorn. you’re might not even want kids, or might have them in your 30s or even 40s, and if you do have kids it’s likely not that many.

5th house ruler in 4th: candlelight dinner together at your home or apartment, movie night, go to a garden center together and pick out some plants or houseplants, watch each others’ favorite childhood movies, indulging in favorite childhood snacks while you do, build a blanket fort and watch movies in your PJs.

7th house: pisces, cancer, and libra placements

pisces in 7th: you are attracted to the archetype of pisces. subconsciously, you fear being dreamy, sensitive, and creative. so you attract those who are foreigners, to arts and spirituality. at best, they unlock your imagination. at worst, they are lost, self-destructive and not reliable.

7th ruler in 4th: you are attracted to the archetype of cancer. subconsciously, you fear emotional closeness, expression, and vulnerability. so you attract those who are emotional and sensitive. at best, they help you embrace your emotions. at worst, they are codependent and complainers.

venus in 7th: venus deals with our values and how we express our love and fashion aesthetic. those with venus in the seventh house value balance and harmony when it comes to human connection. they want everyone to get along and have the desire for a more rosy view of the world where everyone is nice and all things and people are treated equally. for love, it may be hard to feel “loved” by those with venus in the seventh house because it may feel as if they treat everyone the same. sure, they might kiss or spend more time with their significant other, but they may come off as being flirty with everyone because of their charming nature. when it comes to fashion, they may prefer more neutral tones like black, beige, gray, brown, or other related colors. they dress for whatever occasion is specified but may prefer to have a “clean” look overall.

8th house: aries, virgo, leo, and gemini placements

aries in 8th: you feel intimately comfortable when your partner accepts your aggressive, bossy and arrogant traits.

8th house ruler in 6th: you feel intimately comfortable when your partner accepts your picky, nervous and critical traits.

sun in 8th: you want to shine as bright as possible, but it seems to be difficult. it seems as if your light is dimmed. so you strive and desire to shine bright. to show someone your truest colours. someone you trust. someone that respects your privacy and takes things slow. someone that shares your intensity. until then you hide your truest self and you put on a show.

mercury in 8th: your voice tells a story. your mind is occupied with the scarier things in life. the things that makes us vulnerable. you are not afraid to sink your mind into the fears of the world and say the things others wouldn’t dare.

• ° + ° • 

draken's masterlist 

crd: 

5th house  5th house 2. 

7th house  7th house 2.

8th house 8th house 2. 

[niyogreatandsmall]

can you do like- forest dragon tips and validation?? that would be cool :3

Gotcha, friend dragon!

Spend time in natural spaces like parks, forests, or even your own backyard. Breathe in the fresh air, listen to the sounds of nature, and feel the connection to the earth. You can also bring nature indoors with houseplants, rocks, crystals, or natural wood furniture. Dragons are often depicted as creative and intelligent beings. Find an outlet for your creativity, whether it's writing, painting, drawing, sculpting, playing music, or anything else that lets you express yourself. Dragons are often seen as solitary creatures. Take time for yourself to recharge and reflect. This could involve meditation, yoga, spending time in nature, or simply enjoying your own company. Dragons are often strong and powerful creatures. Find a physical activity that you enjoy, such as martial arts, weightlifting, hiking, or that sorta studd. Find ways to incorporate fire into your life, such as lighting candles, spending time by a fireplace, or even taking up fire dancing (with proper safety precautions of course!). When you need strength or inspiration, take some time to visualize yourself in your dragon form. Imagine your scales shimmering, your wings powerful, and your fire burning bright :]

Sun dappling through the leaves makes a sweet spot for a nap, doesn't it? Don't worry about things you haven't found yet, there'll be more where that came from. Just relax, listen to the wind in the trees, and recharge those fire breaths for later, friend!

[geronimosaddlesettle]

Magick ritual if you’re feeling ‘meh’

Anyone a little ‘meh’ right now? A ritual here that will shake things up with the power of the sun, music, and someone who doesn’t even know they’re involved in a spell....  

As always, take time to make sure that the items and spaces you use are safe and that you can carry out this ritual in a way that won’t endanger you or others. We’re witches, not stunt performers. :)

The below ritual allows for modifications so that you can tailor it to what you can easily obtain. These are labelled ‘good’, ‘better’ or ‘best’. It’s how you do it that counts the most. Happy Magick-making!

When To Carry Out

Good = Any day. Better = Sunday would be preferable. Best = A sunny Sunday. Check the forecast.

What You Need

1. Clothing Good = A piece of clothing you haven’t worn in a long time. Better = A whole outfit you haven’t worn in a long time. Best = A whole outfit plus fragrances/cosmetics you haven’t used in a long time.  2. Washed and dried coins Good = Whatever coins you have. Better = Really shiny coins. Best = Really shiny coins minted this year or last. 3. A gift tag Good = A plain tag of card and string/thread. Better = A decorative gift tag with ribbon. Best = A beautiful gift tag that you’ve made yourself. 4. Five Drops of Oil Good = Whatever carrier oil you have. Better = Canola oil. Best = Sunflower oil. 5. Green Plant Material Good = Whatever green plant material you can get your hands on even if that’s a few blades of grass from a lawn. Better = Fresh Bay leaves (rosemary and sage would be good too). Best = Living Houseplants 6. A clothes hanger(s) Good = Any clothes hanger. Better = A wooden clothes hanger. Best = A padded clothes hanger (ooh fancy!) 7. A window Good = Any window. Better = A south facing window. Best = A south-facing window with a beautiful view of nature. 8. A non-alcoholic, citrus drink Good = Orange juice. Better = Lemonade Best = Lemonade in a fancy glass.

9. Music to dance to Good = Any upbeat song. Better = An upbeat song that was playing the last time you went out and had fun. Best = The song from the happiest time in your life so far.

The Ritual

Step One - Connect Gather all your materials together and just sit and breathe with them. Touch them, greet them. Take some time to connect to their energy. Do any other cleansing, grounding rituals you would normally do before spellcasting. Step Two - Set up (During daylight hours) - Using your finger dipped in the oil, mindfully draw an arrow on the tag pointing towards the ribbon/string. Use as much of those 5 drops of oil as you can. - Tie the tag to the ‘neck’ of the coat hanger so that the arrow is pointing up. - Put your clothing on the hanger (if you have multiple items, you don’t need another tag) and hang it in the window. - On the window sill, or another surface near the window that receives sunlight, arrange the coins and plant material in any way that brings a smile to your heart. Do the same with the items that won’t go on a hanger. Step 3 - The words Speak these words while focusing on where the sunlight is illuminating the objects. You may even want to sing these words: Sun, shine bright! Cast out blight. Light the light inside me. Light the light around me. Sun, shine bright. Cast out blight. Take some time to feel the energy in the space. Notice if you can sense it in your body in some way. Step 4 - Charging Leave the clothes and other items in the window to charge in the daylight at least until nightfall.

Step 5 - The Dance! - Once the clothes have had a day of sunlight, put on the clothes and use the cosmetics and fragrance. You can wait until the next day if need be. - Put the coins in your pocket (if you have no pockets, you can use a bag.) - Return the plants to their home (ie. put houseplants back in their regular spots, or if you have leaves or grass from outside, find a patch of bare soil to offer them back to the earth. Say a quick thank you while you’re at it.) - Put on the song and dance! Imagine the music is not coming at you but actually coming from you; as if your own body is creating the music in the moment. - Notice if that changes the way you move, or if it creates new sensations in your body. - Refresh yourself by drinking the orange juice/lemonade. Feel how the citrus flavour stimulates your tongue. Step 6 - The Witness - Leave the house and let someone see you in that old outfit. This is the witness. The witnessing seals the spell. - If you live in a really quiet area, it may take some planning so that you will actually pass someone! Step 7 - Use it or Lose it - When you get back home, assess the outfit. Ask yourself, ‘Why don’t I wear this often? What’s the problem with it?’ - If you actually liked wearing it: great! Plan a time you can wear this magickally charged outfit again. - If you didn’t like wearing it, here’s your opportunity to move on stagnant energy. Donate or recycle it and free up the space and energy for fresh magic in your life.

Step 8 - Put your money where your values are (as and when there’s an opportunity) - This may happen way down the line so don’t rush to do this part of the ritual. If you’re not spending for a while, simply keep those coins somewhere safe. - When the time comes, spend those coins in places that are meaningful to you, in ways that speak to your values. - Eg. if you believe in community, and also economic justice, use the coins to buy a Fairtrade tea at an indie cafe. Or, if you can spare the money, donate it to charity. - Directing energy - and money is a very particular kind of energy - in positive outward directions is a powerful way to make space for fresh energy. - Each time you ‘put your money where your values are’ you make the world better. Do that with magick-charged coins, and you’ll make the world magickally better!

Final Thoughts

If you are stuck in a rut, feeling listless, bored or blank, please know that this is a completely normal feeling. I’m betting that everyone you know has felt ‘the blahs’ at some point. The first step is to know what it is that you’re feeling and to give yourself permission to feel it fully in a safe space. Then, when you’re ready, try this ritual and let the magick breathe new inspiration into your life.  Wishing you Blessings and Abundance.

[cselandscapearchitect]

Indoor Oasis: How Aglaonema Plants Transform Your Home

Introduction: In the hustle and bustle of modern life, finding moments of tranquility and connection with nature is essential. One way to create an oasis of calm within your home is by incorporating Aglaonema plants into your interior design. These stunning houseplants not only bring a touch of natural beauty to your living space but also provide a myriad of benefits that can transform your home…

[puddleorganism]

Oh god I think I just realized why ai generated images work. It’s our own weird ass monkey brains being uses against us.

Like, we all already know the brain fills in the gaps in your perception automatically. Especially with sight. I think when you look at ai generated images your brain automatically does that - it smooths over the imperfections. Especially with photos, because they look real at first glance. The textures, the lighting, it just looks like a real photo so you don’t notice even glaring imperfections. Your brain is literally designed to fill in the gaps. To make it make sense.

Like, for instance, me and my friends were roasting some ai generated image scams (which you should do because it’s honestly good practice for learning how to see those imperfections), and I didn’t even notice the scale was wildly off until a friend pointed it out - for 15 minutes. I was looking at the image for 15 minutes and didn’t notice the focus of the image was completely out of scale with the background.

Anyway. If you want to learn to recognize the hallmarks of ai images (specifically the ones mimicking photos, ai generated art is different) I recommend looking real hard at some. Here are some thing I’ve noticed to be common, though*:

The decor of rooms tend to all be the same sort of style. I don’t know how to describe interior decorating but it’s all like. Mostly white, boxy furniture, lots of houseplants. Kind of like… rustic modern I think?? This could probably change if you put in specific prompts for the background though

Speaking of houseplants, those seem to be hard to do. The leaves tend to just kinda form a blob, and can be odd shapes. I’ve also seen them kind of bleed into the image? Like there was just a fuzzy smudge of green by the plant.

Repeating patterns seem to be tricky for ai. Things like tiles, keyboards, feathers, and sometimes bricks. They look mostly fine at a glance but if you zoom in they’re so janky

Similarly, flooring can be inconsistent. Like, the lines of floorboards can go behind something, and be a different pattern on the other side.

Framed pictures look indistinct or are just a solid block of color

Lighting! Sometimes it makes sense, but sometimes shadows just go a random direction regardless of light sources (eg. shadows are cast to the right, but there is a bright window behind the thing casting the shadow, so they should be moving forward). Also, I don’t think ai can do multiple light sources? Like, in real life you know that thing that shadows do where they duplicate if there’s multiple lights in a room? I’ve yet to see that.

Animals, especially mammals (ESPECIALLY cats) seem to be easy to make a good approximation of, but often aren’t anatomically accurate. Unfortunately, you need to know what they look like beforehand, and with so many ai images out there now looking it up is probably going to be hard. For example, birds species have pretty defined shapes for their wings and tail feathers, and if you know what those are it’s glaringly obvious when ai gets them wrong. I recommend looking at zoos’ social media, Wikipedia, other scientific articles, and older books (photo books, encyclopedias) if you want good references now.

It seems to usually do extremely smooth, but somewhat contrasted lighting. Which means bright light source, and often darker, defined shadows. (But not too dark? For some reason it has more contrast than usual, but not a whole lot)

Scale and perspective are often inconsistent. For instance with scale, a human might be too small compared to the background. With perspective it can be floorboards at a different angle to the wall, or like a cabinet could be flat against a wall when it looks like you should be able to see the top.

*note: these are my personal observations/patterns I’ve noticed, they’re not like a set rule book on what ai can and cannot do. They’re also liable to change, as ai is advancing very quickly.

[pastel-charm-14]

taking care of succulents

give them plenty of sunlight: succulents love sunlight, so make sure they're placed in a bright, sunny spot where they can soak up those rays. a south-facing window is ideal, but they can also do well in east or west-facing windows.

water sparingly: one of the biggest mistakes people make with succulents is overwatering. these plants are built to store water in their leaves, so they don't need frequent watering like other houseplants. wait until the soil is completely dry before watering, and then give them a good soak, allowing excess water to drain out.

use well-draining soil: succulents prefer soil that drains quickly and doesn't hold onto moisture for too long. you can use a specialized succulent or cactus mix, or mix regular potting soil with perlite or coarse sand to improve drainage.

be mindful of temperature: succulents thrive in warm temperatures, so keep them away from drafts and cold windowsills during the winter months. most succulents prefer temperatures between 60°F and 80°F (15°C to 27°C).

give them some breathing room: succulents like good air circulation, so avoid crowding them together too closely. this will help prevent issues like mold and rot and allow each plant to get the light and airflow it needs.

watch for signs of trouble: keep an eye out for signs of overwatering, such as mushy or yellowing leaves, or signs of underwatering, such as shriveled or wrinkled leaves. adjust your watering schedule accordingly to keep your succulents happy and healthy.

[cleavetheclover]

okok, i have a cyphmen prompt for you, hope you look through it

how about omen/cypher buy a plant that represents the other? OMG it would be like "this plant is really you" and omggggggg skdkdjkskskdkskd

hehe thank you for taking your time with me

AHAAHAAAAA YOU HAVE ACTIVATED MY LOVE OF PLANTS YOU HAVE FALLEN FOR MY INVISIBLE TRAP AHAHAHHA

Jk I don’t know a whole lot about house plants, but I do know a little

For Omen: Siam Aurora/Red Algaonema

I think Cypher would say that the vibrant multicolor suits Omen well.

They’re relatively easy to care for and don’t cause a fuss with regular watering and good lighting (bright and indirect). I actually have one of my own!

Omen also has bonsais, as seen in one of the cinematic sms (forgot which). So clearly he knows what he’s doing when it comes to plants. I think he could definitely deal with more difficult/fussy plants if he so chose to. (Ahem, calatheas)

For Cypher: Jade Pothos

A classic beginner house plant that does well in low lighting. Cypher definitely wouldn’t know much about plant care, so this is well suited. He would appreciate the simplicity of it.

It would also be very obvious if the plant wasn’t doing well, in which case he would call Omen to come fix it as if he were a plant IT specialist.

Cypher would probably would keep this in his bedroom because his workshop definitely gets no lighting.

———————

Ok so now it is FANFIC TIME in which they go to something like Mahoney’s (basically Costco for plants), also I wrote this on the fly so it’s not that good

In this one they r an established couple because I said so hehehe

———————

Usually, Omen is the one hovering one step behind Cypher. He is usually so quiet, almost coming across as timid, when in reality he is simply a shy introvert who would rather let the talkative Cypher take the lead.

Not here, though. Omen is four steps ahead of Cypher, marching forward with a confidence the informant has never seen before. They pass the entrance, all the bouquets and flowers, and many smaller plants in tiny black pots.

Cypher almost stops to look at them, but Omen shows no signs of slowing down.

“Ignoring all those lovely plants, habibi?” The cadence of his melodic voice seems to ease some of the ever-present tension in Omen’s shoulders.

“Those are garden plants. Vegetables. Herbs.” To anyone else, the clipped reply would have been interpreted as aggressive and off-putting. To Cypher, this is no bother. Omen has trouble speaking, what with his barely-stable form. In fact, he finds it endearing that Omen elaborated so much. If he weren’t in a good mood, he simply would have pointed at the nearby sign that said ‘Outdoor Plants’ and left it at that.

“You look like a man on a mission. If I had known you’d like it here so much, I would have taken you a long time ago,” Cypher remarks. When Omen simply scoffs, he laces his hand in Omen’s and gives it a small tug to remind them to slow down. “My dear, the plants you are looking for won’t get eaten by bugs in the next minute. Slow down. Let’s enjoy the sun.”

Omen says nothing, but he does slow his pace a bit. As they continue their way through the enormous greenhouse (the first of many), he allows Cypher to pull him along in any direction like a child in a candy store. What’s this plant? What’s that? Do you like petunias? (No.) Although the wraith is here for the specific purpose of purchasing houseplants, he adores the curious look that lights up his lover’s eyes, and so he lets them be delayed.

It isn’t long before they get to the houseplants section. Omen takes the lead once again, Cypher following at his shoulder. The two of them stroll down the aisles, gazing at the rows upon rows of baby plants. Whenever Omen pauses for a long period, he can feel Cypher gearing up to ask him what he’s thinking about, as he always does. He decides to save the effort and simply say his thoughts aloud.

“Snake plant. Easy to care for. Not your style. You need softer leaves.”

“I need softer leaves?”

Omen simply brings his hand to brush against the snake plant and feel it’s rigidity. “You are more gentle than that. Your plant should be the same.”

“Oh,” Cypher says softly, abashed at the compliment. It was really so easy to get him flustered.

They pass a few more plants. Omen brushes his fingertips in the leaves, feeling the stems, idly checking the health of plants he will never buy. They are all in good condition, at least. This trip was not wasted.

“Jade pothos,” Omen declares triumphantly, holding it up to the light. He examines the underside of the leaves, gently punches the stems, and brushes the pad of his finger over the leaves. It was well cared for in this greenhouse, but it wasn’t particularly difficult to do that. Nonetheless, Omen deems it a suitable companion for his partner, and hands it off to him. “For you. Easy care. Simple design. Grows well.”

Cypher examines the plant, mimicking the motions Omen had just done but clearly without knowing what they did. It was endearing to see the information broker so confused when utterly outside his sphere of knowledge. It reminded Omen that even the world’s greatest mastermind still did not know everything.

“For me? I— you know I don’t have any plants. I’ve never even cared for one before!” Cypher protests.

“Beginner plant,” Omen states. “Your bedroom needs more life.”

“Ah! Excuse me, but my bedroom is plenty lively, what with all your midnight visits.” Cypher cries indignantly, then laughing while running a free hand down Omen’s back. Trust him to always take the path of innuendo rather than literal. Omen lets out a huff in lieu of actual laughter, and responds by putting his own hand on the small of Cypher’s back.

“Another kind of life, Amir.”

“Fine, I will take it. Anything for you, my dear.”

With the pothos secured in Cypher’s arm, they continue walking through the houseplants section.

“This one, for you?” Cypher points to a plant with bright dapples of pink on the small leaves. “Not every plant is just green and brown. It’s pretty and multicolored, like you.”

“Not elegant enough.” Omen says. “Too small.”

They keep going. The shadow already cares for bonsais and an assortment of other small plants. Today, he looking for something larger. A tree, maybe? A monstera would be too large, but he wants something like a money tree…

“How about this one?” It’s dark green with thin pink stripes on the leaves.

“Beautiful, but fussy.” Omen says. He hates feeling picky, but he really does want to get today’s choice right. “Calathea are tropical plants. Very specific light and soil requirements.” He turns the plant slightly and lifts some of the top leaves to reveal some yellowing leaves below. “Not a good choice for someone who is deployed every other week.”

“How about this one, then? It looks happy,” Cypher is now looking at the plants beside it. This one has a thick pink stem, large pointed deep green leaves with red margins. The tag reads “Red Algaonema.”

Tenderly, Omen examines the plant in the same way he did the pothos. Then, being unfamiliar with this particular plant, checked the tag for care instructions, and then checked to see whether the soil was the right mix.

“I think the red suits you. It’s bigger than the other one, and the stripes are cleaner than the dots on the other one,” Cypher explains, and the shadow can’t help but agree. Wow, his boyfriend really does know him well. Cypher has always been adaptable when it comes to new information, so Omen can’t say that he’s surprised. But he does appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

“Yes,” the shadow says, thumbing the leaves. “I like this one.”

The two of them stand there for a moment, admiring their selection. Cypher takes the opportunity to touch Omen’s plant and gauge its qualities and temperament. Again, not knowing what the hell he’s doing, but the effort is apploudable. Somehow, Omen knows he could care less about the plant itself, and is more excited for how the plant will keep Omen’s mood up. Omen can see it, in the thoughtful gaze the informant directs at the leaves. What else about the plant would have him go so quiet?

“I love you, Omen,” the words come spilling out of Cypher’s mouth so smoothly, as if his entire train of thought had come to that one sentence. It could be perceived as a sudden sentence, breaking the conversation about plants, but to Omen, it was only the rightful conclusion to Cypher’s inner dialogue. Of course his imagination and careful planning of Omen’s happiness was out of love, and of course he was going to say as such.

Omen has to stifle a laugh. Cypher, the hopeless romantic, who would take a ghost out on a date to a fucking greenhouse of all places, just because he wanted to see Omen’s confidence and knowledge blossom like a flower in spring.

“I love you too, Amir.”

[drewtanakagf]

HOLE THEORY (part 1/2)

☆ @rrversesummerbang gift exchange fic for @buoyantsaturn

It’s summer in some metropolis and Mythomaniac is looking for a guitarist.

Teen & Up Audiences, Band AU. Words: 4,281

Excerpt Under Read More!

“We need a guitarist,” Nico says from where he is on the worn couch. He pushes back his hair pulling the top part into a tiny ponytail. The couch used to be bright red, once. Will’s next to him, focused on his medical textbook. Hazel and Frank are also over for what should be a chill afternoon. 

“Lots of people are staying around campus,” Hazel replies. “It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone who wants to play.”

Will’s garage door is rolled up all the way, exposing the four to the street. He lives with his mother on the outskirts of the city; not quite the suburbs but quiet enough to think so. It’s still loud, with the houses so squished together; conversations from two doors down waft through the air, crystal clear. Someone plays an aria at the highest volume, competing with the brass of the merengue floating down the street. People walk up and down the cracked pavement of the road and sidewalks; hanging out at house gates, leaning into open car windows as the day begins to wind down. Summer has begun to settle in, the heat batted away by frequent cooling breezes of spring. The trees are strong and green, the flowers and houseplants re-appearing on porches painting the world alive with color. 

The driveway leading up to the garage itself is short, but private enough for pedestrians to not see inside with a single wayward glance. The garage itself is dark, lights either turned off or permanently out of commission.

Hazel’s laying belly-down on the smooth concrete, humming along to the merengue and doodling on paper with a black chisel marker. Frank sits on the icebox by the door leading to the kitchen, feet swinging a few feet off the concrete, bobbing his head along to the music bleeding from his Walkman’s headphones. He’s holding a bag of ice over his wrist, brace lying next to him. Wires are strewn across the floor, leading to amps and pedal boards. A drum set takes up most of the space, the kickdrum’s face clear. Nico’s bass is at home in its case, though one of the two stands are available, the other one taken up by Hazel’s electric guitar.

“She’s right,” Will adds from his place on the ratty fabric couch, closing the textbook. Nico takes the opportunity to rest his head on Will’s lap, looking up only to see Will’s chin and the scrub of stubble left after he shaved this morning. “Austin definitely knows someone in the music program looking for some summer practice.”

“I do too,” Hazel says, capping the marker in her hand. “But we can always post these around for more reach.” She pushes herself up, brushing off the dirt on her plain purple t-shirt and worn, ripped jeans. She taps Frank on the thigh twice, gently. 

He takes off his headphones, resting them against the back of his neck where his hair curls. “Are we leaving?”

“Yeah,” She holds up the paper in her hand. “Gotta get these printed.”

Frank nods, placing down the bag of ice and putting his brace back on before stepping off his temporary seat. He dwarfs Hazel, the younger girl taking the bag from him and putting it back in the icebox.

“See y’all later!” With that, Hazel and Frank walk onto the street, Frank slinging a protective arm over Hazel’s shoulder.

Nico and Will sit in silence for a minute. Nico absentmindedly fingers a bass line in the air.

“When do finals end?”

“Next week, why?” Will answers. 

“Just wondering”

Will hums.