#carpet roses bunnings

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 3

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

Johnny has a good day.

Tw: ableism; implied sexual assault

#

That night you dream about fucking the two neighbors in 5C.

It’s good sex, too. You can tell by the sweat slicking your skin and the ache in your thighs. You are naked on the big one’s lap, his huge hands on your hips while he bounces you on his cock. Behind you, the shorter one loops his one arm around your waist and grinds his cock against your bare arse. 

“Did Jesus send ye?” his voice rasps against the sensitive side of your neck. You tilt your head to give him more room to suck and kiss and bite. Then, as his hand slips down to tease where you need a soft touch the most: “Are you gonna finish me off?” 

The one beneath you cums, a flood of warmth deep within your aching cunt. His groans have you teetering on the edge of your cut of the pleasure. You lean down to kiss him, but before your mouths can meet, hands grip your hips and lift you free—his cock slides out with a wet rush of fluids, leaving you feeling cracked open and empty.  

Your boyfriend passes you on to his friends who are waiting for their turn with you, and then it is no longer a dream, but a memory. 

#

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are for physical therapy. Tuesdays and Thursdays are for cognitive rehabilitation. Both of these are paid for by the British government and accomplished in the ‘comfort’ of Johnny’s own home. Like that’s supposed to help; he’s going to have to sweat (literally) and bleed (probably figuratively), but as long as it’s on his own carpet, that’s quite all right. Johnny isn’t sure which he hates more, the physical or cognitive rehab. Both hurt, just in different places; one hurts the stump of his arm, the muscles of his shoulders and neck, his fake knee. The other hurts his pride, leaves him tired and second guessing his broken mind. 

The other scares him. It’s one thing to lose his arm—one terrible, traumatizing thing. But the idea that he’s going (or gone) simple is too much to take.

The cognitive rehabilitation therapist’s name is Anna. She wears horn-rimmed glasses and sloppy buns that Johnny fantasizes about gripping in his fist and throttling her with during their less productive sessions. 

By sessions, he means they play games together. Simon sits on the sofa in the living room pretending not to watch. He thinks he’s so fucking clever, turning his pages even, but Johnny knows. Simon’s gaze is a tangible thing, as physical as a touch, like a finger running up the back of his neck. There’s no hiding from it. You don’t get a name like Ghost without raising the hairs on some people’s arms with just your eyes. 

“It’s your turn, Johnny.” 

“I fuckin’ know it. Sorry—sorry.” 

Anna puts up a hand to stall his sorries. She is younger than he is; shouldn’t she be older? Wouldn’t that make this less painful? “Take your time.” 

It’s a simple matching game. There are less than a dozen tiles left on the board, and Johnny has seen most of them two or three times by now. He keeps forgetting their placements, even though he is burdened with the memory of having chosen them. 

His shaking fingers reach for a tile…a red car. Sweat breaks out on his brow. He’s seen this fucking Red Car no less than six times. His fingers hover over the board, moving from one tile to the next. Here? Or here? If he sees the Rose again, he’ll lose his head; he knows it. He can feel his blood pressure rising like the mercury in a thermometer, up up and away, blackness eating at the edge of his vision.  

Finally, with absolutely no idea where the other red car is, he picks a tile at random. 

Red Car. 

Johnny shouts out in triumph, holding up the tile for Simon to see. Even Anna—eternally unimpressed Anna—gives him a smile, infected by his joy. 

“Good job—now do it again.” 

Groaning, he picks up another tile. 

Rose. 

#

“Come lay down with me,” he says to Ghost after taking two of the green, oval pills that are the only things which take the edge off his pain. They make him so fucking tired, though—perhaps that’s their secret; if they can’t take the pain away, they’ll at least help him sleep through it. 

“Alright,” says Simon, putting his book down. He doesn’t bother marking his place; they both know he wasn’t reading it.  

The two of them slip into the bedroom. It isn’t much: a bed against the southern wall, the doors leading out onto the balcony—blinds pulled shut to keep out any hopeful rays of sunshine, a desk piled high with medical bills that the government will front. 

Johnny is pretty good about getting his shirt off with just one arm. He reaches up and back, gripping the collar, and tugs it off over his head in a smooth, fluid motion. He’s thinner after his three-month stint first in the hospital and then in inpatient rehabilitation, but he still looks good. 

He hates the stump where his arm used to be, but today he doesn’t even care. It’s a good day, a purely tolerable day. He presses himself against Simon and kisses him, the first true-kiss he can remember giving him since the accident, though his memory is not what it used to be. Simon’s hands—large and warm and strong—settle on his waist pulling him closer. It’s desperate and messy, too much teeth and tongue, neither of them quite settling into the old easy dance they used to be capable of; likely because they aren’t the same people anymore. 

“Fuck, I want you,” Johnny pants against Simon’s feral mouth.

“You can’t,” Simon grits out, dragging Johnny’s hardened cock against his own. 

“Like hell I can’t!” Though…already his knee throbs, a deep ache punctuated by glass-like shards of sharpness when he bends it. He could take it—but it would hurt. But fuck, what doesn’t hurt these days? “I need you, Ghost.” 

Simon grips him by the hair which has grown out too long and badly needs trimmed. He tugs back til Johnny’s neck pops uncomfortably. “You’ll take what I give you,” Simon says, sounding on the verge of madness, at least as desperate as Johnny feels. 

“‘n what? I can’t beg for more?” 

“Oh, you can beg,” says Simon darkly. 

He pins Johnny against the sliding doors of the balcony, rustling the blinds around his body. Knees bent to bring them to just the right height, he fists both their cocks in one large hand, his face buried in Johnny’s neck, muffling groans against his skin.

“Yes,” Johnny gasps, his nails digging into Simon’s back. “Yes, jus’ like that—fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—“

Simon keeps jerking off his spent cock well after Johnny cums, even after he begins whining and pulling back, shoulders thudding against the glass doors behind him. Ghost makes Johnny fuck his fist through the sensitivity until he cums too, both their seed slickening his hand and turning the sound of his handjob filthy-wet. 

“Thank you,” Johnny sighs, blissed out. He doesn’t feel any pain, not in his stump or his knee or his head or anywhere. Maybe it’s the pills, but maybe it’s Ghost. Maybe it’s the relief of knowing they haven’t fucked up their relationship beyond all repair, that they’re still capable of loving one another like this. “I needed that. 

Simon feeds two fingers soaked in cum past Johnny’s full lips, relishing the way his hot mouth sucks the digits clean. He admits: “So did I.” 

He cleans them both up and they curl up on the bed together for Johnny’s afternoon nap—the doctors say all the sleep he needs is good for his brain. 

Simon doesn’t intend to fall asleep. But he does. 

And when he wakes, Johnny is not there beside him. 

#

You’re just thinking how cold it is out on the balcony, wondering if it is worth it to risk going back inside for a sweater, when the balcony doors from 5C open and out steps the man you almost hit with your car. He looks likely to be cold as well, wearing only a t-shirt and loose pants, his feet bare against the concrete. 

A cigarette is tucked in the corner of his mouth, unlit. He gapes at you, and it falls to the balcony floor. Glancing behind himself into the darkness of his apartment, he shuts the door with careful tenderness before bending down with a wince to pick up his cigarette. 

 The sleeve of his missing arm dangles innocuously. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here.” 

“Sorry,” you say on instinct. It’s ingrained in you; a lifetime’s worth of apologies. “I can go in and give you some privacy.” 

“World’s big enough for two,” Johnny says coolly. There are chairs out here, but he doesn’t sit. Instead he leans against the doors with his good side and pretends to look out. It’s a lovely view of the parking lot. You do the same, except you can see the spot from here where you almost hit him with your car, and it makes your stomach turn. Speaking of: “Sorry about all that in the parking lot. My temper got the best o’ me.” 

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” you admit. “I was distracted. I can’t say it enough, I’m so—so sorry.” 

“Water under the bridge,” he says. He holds out the only hand he has left. “Johnny MacTavish.” 

You hold out your own left hand, shaking via air from the distance between your balconies. When you give him your name, he mutters it under his breath two, three, four times. 

“I’m going to forget that,” he warns you at length with a sad little laugh, fiddling with the unlit cigarette still in his hand. “It’s not you, it’s me.” 

“It’s alright,” you forgive. “It’s pretty forgettable.” 

Johnny frowns, putting the cigarette back in his mouth and working his hand into his pocket. His accent is so sweet to listen to, syrupy and dropping the consonants off of his words as he assures you: “Didn’t say that, did I, lass? Don’t get twisted.” 

Mollified and embarrassed in equal measure at his simple admonishment, you duck your head. 

“Got a broken brain,” he says in explanation, reaching up to tap the cigarette against the scars at his temple. “Forgot one of my own sisters’ names on the phone last week and she wept like a bairn. In my defense, I have several of them.” 

“I forget people’s names and I don’t have a head injury,” you say. 

Johnny snorts softly, the sound carried away by the wind.

He withdraws a lighter, one of the cheap disposable ones you can buy beside the registers at gas stations. His hand shakes as he tries to spin the sparkwheel once, twice, thrice, but no dice. Johnny takes a deep, slow breath, like a little boy trying not to lose his temper. He tries again, the familiar noise of steel rasping on steel, but no spark. 

You wait, patiently, eyes turned out toward the parking lot as he begins muttering curses beneath his breath. Anxiety itches beneath your skin. His building anger is a tangible thing in the air like heat thrown off by a lit flame or the smell of burnt rubber, tires squealing in the parking lot as you slam on the breaks. A man’s anger is familiar to you. It predicts pain. Your skin flashes hot and then cold, and you are just about to make a polite escape inside when: 

“Can you catch?” he asks, sending your gaze swerving to him from the parking lot.

“Can I—? Fuck!” you throw your hands up just in time, scrambling for the lighter even though he only tosses it underhanded like an easy pitch for a tee-baller. It slips from one of your sweaty hands to the other like a slapstick comedy routine, but it doesn’t clatter to the concrete nor does it fall off the balcony altogether. Holding it in your hand, you light it easily to make sure it works, missing the hungry, bitter expression that comes over his face when you do. “How? I can’t reach you from here.” 

“We can meet in the middle.” 

You can’t. Even with him outstretching from his side of the balcony and you from your own, there is a good half a meter of distance between you both. You can’t help but remember the other man’s words—I just want one fucking cigarette without worrying about him taking a swan dive off the balcony. 

“Be careful,” you admonish when Johnny slips a little, his ribs digging into the iron-wrought railing. He doesn’t have good balance, you realize. Does losing an arm fuck something like that up? The answer you don’t know: it fucks up everything. Taking a deep breath, you glance over the rail and take note of how high you are from the ground. High enough for a healthy splat should you fall…

“Forget it,” he says morosely, his brows low. He is the picture of dejection, a kicked dog. “Doctors say ‘m not supposed to smoke anymore anyway.” 

“Don’t they say that to everyone? Just—hang on.” Tucking the lighter into your pocket, you throw one leg over the railing. 

“What are yeh—you-uuu fucking nutter,” he laughs as you test the stability of the railing. It doesn’t shift or creak at all under your weight. Heart in your throat, you lift your other leg over, feet lodged in the narrow space between the railing and the concrete floor. Gripping the rail with a tight fist, you let your weight lean into the space between your balconies, reaching into your pocket to remove the lighter and flick it to life. 

Johnny looks like he could laugh or cry or both, stretching out his shaking arm so you can light the cigarette and then quickly bringing it to his mouth to suck it to life. 

“Yer crazy,” he says breathlessly, words tinted with smoke as he watches you scramble back over the railing and to safety. 

The sliding doors open. For a moment, you mistake the sound for being closer than it is—for being your boyfriend finally noticing how long you’ve been gone and coming to find you. He’s going to find you out here with Johnny and the same arguments will be born all over again—arguments about your disloyalty.

But it’s Johnny’s doors which slide open. The taller man comes out, the circles under his eyes standing out darkly  against his pale skin in the late afternoon light. At the sight of Johnny, an expression of raw, poignant relief comes over his face. 

Johnny drops the cigarette over the ledge of the balcony, face sheepish. 

“Was just meeting our bonnie neighbor,” says Johnny, slipping his arm around the other man’s waist. If there was any doubt left of what they were to each other, it disappears: seeing them together, you can see the magnetism that draws them together. They act like plants which turn toward the sunlight, except they are the sunlight. The bitterness inside you rises up in the back of your throat. “Grateful to be doing it without a car in between us. This is Simon.” 

“Nice to meet you,” says Simon. 

“You too,” you offer, like perfect strangers. 

You don’t find the lighter still in the pocket of your pants until later, when it is past midnight as you are collecting your clothes from the floor, aching between your legs and raw-eyed from crying. You flick the sparkwheel, watching the flame come alive. Glancing behind you, you make sure your boyfriend is fast asleep before creeping to your dresser drawers, opening the one with your socks, and shoving the lighter towards the back as far as you can. 

[kurogane2512]

So there's this fluffy thought I can't get my mind off of, imagine famous actress! Signora with a wife who still flirts with her, who would still court her even after they got married and just look absolutely in love with Signora 🥺 (can you tell i love Signora)

-🐯

WE love Signora here 😩 Pls I would totally be head over heels for her even in old age 😭❤️

Genshin Impact | Modern AU

Actress!La Signora x fem!reader | Fluff

The blinding flashes of cameras, cheers from the crowd and noise from the reporters burst forth the moment the most-awaited car drove through the driveway. An all too familiar yet exquisite deep red color adorned it's exterior, heralded as the most expensive car in the world and known to have only 4 models ever- Rolls-Royce La Rose Noire Droptail. There was only 1 person in this country that owned this beautiful beast, the everlasting beauty whom the car was named after- Rosalyne Lohefalter, or famously known by her stage name, La Signora.

"Signora! Miss Signora! Look here! Look at the camera!" the cameramen, reporters and fans all shouted in unison as the car hood rolled back giving way to the star herself. Signora waved at the people around with a gentle smile on her face, meanwhile the person accompanying her who was none other than her wife got out of the car and walked around to open the door for her. You extended your hand to your wife who accepted with a smile and finally showed herself in her full glory. You kissed the top of her hand as she stepped out, grinning at her slightly flustered reaction.

"Look here! Miss Signora! Ms Y/n! Pose together! You both look gorgeous!"

The people shouted and you decided to oblige them by posing with your wife for a few photos before stepping away to give her her spotlight. This event was for her, she was the star and she deserved every bit of this treatment. The camera flashes added more sparkle to her low-cut dazzling white gown that was adorned with roses and embroidery near the base. Her shining blonde hair flowed freely, styled with 2 rose buns and rose accessories in her hair. She waved and blew kisses at the camera as she walked forward before stopping and turning around to look at you, extending her hand out.

"Let's go, my love~"

You smiled and joined hands then walked the red carpet together. The camera flashes and cheers didn't stop even for a moment as you walked, she really was a star unlike anyone else. You were attending an awards show where she was nominated for the Best Actress award for her latest movie which was a blockbuster, critics and fans alike expected her to bag the award for sure. She had everything a star actress could, she was set to become legendary and be remembered for decades to come.

You reached the main photo area of the venue, Rosalyne greeted some of her friends and co-stars on the way then pulled you to the photo area for her turn. You were keen to let her have her solo photos but the photographers requested you to join in as you made a perfect couple. You snaked you arm around her waist and posed together for some photos before letting go and stepping to the side, once again she did some solo poses for the eager fans and camera.

She looked at you and you exchanged smiles, a light blush crawling up her cheeks whenever your eyes met. She was then ready to walk off, you offered your hand to her from afar and she barely grasped it when you suddenly pulled her closer and pressed her body against yours before connecting your lips together. The crowd gasped and broke in excited cheers even more, the camera clicks and flashes going haywire at the unforgettable moment.

Rosalyne's eyes widened in surprise the moment you kissed, yet her hands held your shoulders in a natural way as if you had practiced this when in reality, you hadn't. Your arms secured her waist in a possessive yet gentle way, you loved surprising her this way and you knew she loved it too. The kiss was short-lived, you parted with a smile and she appeared awestruck, the noise from the people around inaudible to her as only you occupied her senses.

"Shall we go in, Rosa?~"

Your voice brought her back to her senses and she covered her blushing face then nodded and walked with you without sparing a glance at the cameras despite the constant requests. Everyone wanted to capture her flustered face, but only you had the privilege of making it happen in the first place. It was surreal to see a famous and talented actress like her become embarrassed of such moments, but that's what made her so humane and adorable.

The way you showered her in affection at such places always caught her off guard despite how much she had experienced it, she just couldn't get used to it. Rosalyne looked down for the rest of the way before you were stopped by an interviewer and she donned her usual confident expression and held your arm lovingly. You too would always get surprised at how apt she was at adapting to situations this way, but she wouldn't be a star like this if she couldn't do this.

"Ms Signora, how excited are you for the evening? Ready to bag your award for the 4th consecutive year, I suppose?~" the interviewer asked, and Rosalyne gave a simple smile.

"Well, I'd hope so. But there are many other deserving candidates this time so I wouldn't regret losing, it should go to whoever deserves it. I'm just happy to be here with my darling~" she cuddeled into your chest.

"Speaking of your partner, how are you feeling, Ms Y/n?" the interviewer asked you now.

"Uh, well, I'm definitely more nervous here than her that's for sure." you chuckled.

"Oh, you don't know how the fans talk about you both. You have certainly found a way into their hearts, in more ways than one~"

You chuckled with a shrug of your shoulders, "I have seen some messages, yes. They are quite.... daring, to put it nicely~"

The interviewer chuckled along, "You can't blame them now, can you? Some people want to be you and some want you! Have you seen those messages, Ms Signora?~"

Rosalyne's grip on your arm tightened for a moment before she loosened it to answer the interviewer, "Of course, I have. All I can say is I'm blessed to have her by my side. And I'm not giving her to anyone~"

Signora winked at the camera with a smirk. The interviewer laughed more then wished you both a good time and let you walk away. You made your way inside the arena when you noticed Rosalyne seemed to be deep in thought.

"Rosa, are you okay?"

Rosalyne looked at you with a pout then rested her head on your shoulder, "I have told you to refrain from public affection at such events.... I can't imagine how the media will react to that kiss now."

You grinned, "I don't care how they'll react. I simply wanted to love my wife, is that wrong?~"

"Mm, I know. I liked it too but..."

She squeezed your arm more then mumbled something inaudible. You smiled to yourself and remained silent as you already knew what she was feeling. You got seated at your designated table and the show began soon after. After an hour, the most awaited moment of the night came- the announcement of the Best Actress award. The nominations were announced followed by a dramatic silence as the envelope was opened.

You held Rosalyne's hand and gently squeezed it, the two of you exchanging smiles with each other. You couldn't deny you were far more nervous than her, you knew she won't be as upset about losing but you really wanted her to win. She was the most deserving in your eyes. Rosalyne noticed your nervousness and smiled to herself before gently patting your arm and looking at you.

"La Signora!"

A roar of claps and cheers erupted as her name was announced as the winner. Your heart skipped a beat and you immediately hugged her then exchanged a small kiss before escorting her to the stage, you kissed the top of her hand before releasing it as she climbed up and waved at the crowd while you stood in front and took her pictures and made a video of her speech.

"I would extend this award to my director and rest of the crew who made the film a possibility and gave me the platform for this, it was truly amazing working with such talented people and I am thankful to my fans for always supporting me. Last but not least, I couldn't do this without my Y/n so a big thank you for being here, darling~"

Rosalyne gave a short and sweet speech as she had prepared before blowing a flying kiss to the crowd and beginning to descend. You quickly went to the stairs and helped her get down, then took her by surprise doing an unexpected action. You picked her up bridal style in your arms, she almost gasped then chuckled and wrapped her arms around your neck and lovingly embraced you as you walked back to your table.

More cheers, claps and even whistles could be heard now. Rosalyne kissed your cheek then held you tightly, you placed her on her chair then sat on yours beside her. Both of you took a moment to look at the trophy then exchanged a small kiss and continued watching the rest of the show. You had initially planned to stay for the after-party but you couldn't wait to take her home, you had planned so much for this moment.

You excused yourselves after the event and decided to go home together. Rosalyne questioned why you were so eager to go back, but she assumed you simply wanted to be alone with her to celebrate her victory. You reached her bunglow then quickly got out of the car and opened the door for her, holding out your hand and helping her come out. She was about to walk forward but you surprisingly put a blindfold on her eyes and started guiding her inside.

"My love? What is happening?"

"Shh, just come with me."

Rosalyne felt excited wondering if you had a surprise for her, you always did so much to love her and support her. She heard a few doors open as you walked before finally making her stand at a place as you removed her blindfold.

"Ta-da!"

You exclaimed and she was spellbound at the scene in front. It was her room yet it looked so different decorated with all sorts of balloons and flowers. You brought out a table that had a cake on top with the writing, "Congratulations". Tears of happiness formed in her eyes and she couldn't hold back from embracing you tightly.

"Thank you, my sweetheart... Oh, what did I do to deserve you in my life?"

You smiled and patted her back, "Be yourself, that's all. I love you, Rosa. Today is your day, I'm so happy for you."

She kissed your cheek then cut the cake and happily fed you a piece, you opened the bottle of wine kept under the table and poured it in 2 glasses. You played her favorite music and handed her one glass as both of you sat on the bedside and celebrated together; you drank, laughed and danced together.

She had never felt so appreciated before, she didn't know how to express her gratefulness for you. Before long, you found yourself pinned on the bed with her straddling you and your lips joined in a passionate kiss. Rosalyne wanted to give back for all that you did, she wanted you to feel appreciated too just like you made her feel.

"I love you... I love you so much, my darling...." she mumbled between kisses and proceeded to undress you both, followed by a passionate night of lovemaking.

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong.

if you’ve got a girlfriend, i’m jealous of her, but if you’re single, that’s honestly worse ‘cause you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts (honey, it hurts). ocean blue eyes looking in mine, i feel like i might sink and drown and die. you’re so gorgeous, i can’t say anything to your face, ‘cause look at your face. and i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way.

Steve’s been spending the summer at his parents house in Beverly Hills. His parents want him to think about his future, to consider college or some career, to get out of the house at the very least, but he’s only nineteen. How is he supposed to know what he wants to do for the rest of his life?

He thinks maybe he’ll ask his dad for a small part in his next movie. Maybe Steve can become an actor, walking red carpets and going to all the best parties. Steve could ask to be in the one he’s filming now, but Steve’s got a busy schedule full of parties and clubbing with his friends who are home for the summer. Plus he doesn’t want to miss out on watching the landscaper who comes every Thursday to weed his mother’s garden, mow the lawn, and clean out the pool.

The landscaper is… hot. Steve has no idea where his mother found Munson&Son, but he thanks whatever gods exist for their favor every week. Every time he hears the big landscaping truck pull up the driveway, Steve rushes to the front window of his bedroom to hide behind his curtains and watch the beautiful long-haired, tattooed guy unload the ride-on lawnmower from the trailer.

He’s not much older than Steve, maybe twenty or twenty-one. He always starts with his hair down, curly, hanging around his shoulders, like he thinks something about this time will be different and he won’t have to tie it up. Whatever the reason, Steve is thankful because there’s just something about watching him flip his hair up on top of his head, twisting his wrists around each other to tie it in a messy bun, that really gets to him.

Steve stands there watching like this is his favorite television show. He brings his glass of iced tea with him and absentmindedly sips it through a straw with his attention glued on his mother’s rose garden. The guy wears these grubby gloves, thick and brown, and he has to wipe his brow with the back of his wrist. Steve thinks it looks like really hard work, knows the landscaper’s arms are lightly muscled, his torso wiry and toned. Steve imagines what the guy’s chest might feel like under Steve’s own fingertips, feels the sweat break out on the back of his own neck as the guy bags up the weeds and throws them in the back of the truck.

Steve holds his breath, waits for it. This is when it happens, when the landscaper climbs on to the ride-on lawnmower and peels off his sweat-soaked shirt. Steve licks his lips as he watches, traces the lines of the guy’s chest tattoos with his eyes—can’t help but imagine what they might taste like—watches as he wipes at the sweat on his chest with his shirt before throwing it in the back of the truck along with the bags of weeds from the garden.

Steve has to take a sip of his iced tea again and considers taking off his own shirt. He pulls at his collar as he remembers that he actually has to breathe to, like, live or whatever. He loves watching the landscaper drive around their lawn on the lawnmower, can’t look away from the way the muscles in his arms tighten and release as he steers. Steve thinks many, many, many thoughts as he watches and drains his glass, ice clinking at the bottom.

The guy is done with the lawn and Steve knows he’ll head to the back of the house to work on the pool. This is when Steve takes a break, fills his glass with more iced tea, and gets his heartbeat under control on his way to his parents room, which overlooks the pool.

This is Steve’s favorite part, because the landscaper has to peel off his cargo pants to reveal his very short swim trunks—Steve has memorized the guy’s thigh tattoos—so he can get into the middle of their admittedly quite large pool. It’s Steve’s favorite part of their Beverly Hills house; he’d been on the swim team at his boarding school and he loves floating in the middle of the clear water on nights when the moon is full and he can see all the stars over their house. They’re far enough from the city and their neighborhood has enough regulations against light pollution that the summer skies are relatively clear.

Watching the landscaper wade into Steve’s favorite place in the world makes him really start thinking Thoughts. He imagines how weightless they both would feel, skinny dipping under the full moon. Sometimes, his thoughts aren’t even all that horny; Steve is just a lonely, privileged kid, really. He imagines what it would be like to make the landscaper laugh, to splash him and dunk him in the water before pulling him close and crashing their lips together. And then his thoughts turn decidedly more horny. He’s nineteen, after all.

After a while, the landscaper finishes and starts pulling his vacuum out of the pool, winding up the long hose before pulling his cargo pants back on. It’s so hot, his clothes will dry almost instantly.

As the guy turns, chest still bare and hair still tied up, Steve sees the moment he notices movement in the window. Steve briefly considers ducking down, face flaming hot, but he’s already been caught and he thinks it would be even more incriminating to act like he’s been caught. The guy waves up at him, makes a gesture like he wants Steve to open the window.

Steve licks his lips and does it, holding his breath, nervous.

“Enjoy the show?” The guy yells up at him, grinning wide.

Steve laughs nervously, hand sweating around his glass. He decides the lean into it; he’s already been caught staring after all.

“Sure did,” he yells back down, giving the guy a very obvious once over. The guy’s smile widens.

“I’m Eddie,” he says, scratching at his chest. “My band’s playing a show tonight. You should come.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry. How was his creepy staring actually working out for him?

“Oh, yeah?” He tries his hardest to sound flirty and ignored the pounding of his heart. “Where?”

Eddie tells him the name of the club, some place on the side of town Steve normally wouldn’t be caught dead in. Then he asks, “what’s your name, sweetheart?” Steve smiles and tells him before Eddie continues. “I’ll put you on the list. See you tonight, Stevie.”

Steve shakes his head, still grinning, before shutting the window. And who would blame his if he lingered at the window just a little longer to watch Eddie lift his vacuum and haul it around to the front of the house?

He hears the truck start up as he walks through the doorway to his own bedroom, making his way over to his walk-in closet and thumbing at his phone, clicking on Robin’s speed-dial. He’s got another show to get ready for.

I made this post and then decided to take matters into my own hands :’)

[candydust]

Chad and Tristan – snz scenario part 2.

(I wanted to do something a little different with this scenario that only involves a moment in Chad’s life.)

Walking into the library he was settled at ease within an instant. He didn’t know what is was, but the rare smell of used books, older furniture and dirty carpets appealed to him for inexplicable reasons. Perhaps it was the nostalgia of those lonely hours in the library studying. The place where he felt most comfortable in those desolated hours.

The library was rather crowded, but he was able to spot an empty seat next to an elderly woman. She was dressed in a white blouse and dark blue trousers. Her grey hair up in a loose bun.

‘Hi…’ He whispered with a smile and she returned the gesture-

‘Hello there.’

Opening the book of choice, he engrossed in it quickly. Reaching the second page, he’d begun to sniffle. Something was bothering him and the tickle in the nose wouldn’t subside. It didn’t take long for it to build. Turning away from the lady, Chad dipped his head into the crook of the arm.

‘Uh’Knxw’scho! …Wesxkndt’scho!! D’itscho!! …oh goodness.’

‘Bless you.’ The lady uttered, her eyes responding to the sound by looking up from the book.

‘Thank you. So sorry about that.’

She nodded kindly, when he felt the tickled in the nose return.

‘…ugh, but why of course...’ He muttered to himself, brushing a few fingers at the nose. The itch grew stronger and he knew he had to sneeze all over again.

‘AWESCH'knx! Eh’yEITSCH'knx!!’

It was with an intense amount of pressure he was able to hold those suppressed at all.

‘Bless you..!’

‘Thank you.’ He tried to sniffle discreetly but it came out in a wet and drippy notion.

‘You’re not sick, are you..?’

‘No, no… just allergies.’

‘Oh that’s unfortunate. I hope it’s not bothering you too much.’

‘I manage...’ Chad replied a little weakly, rubbing at the nose. Thankful for the lady’s sympathy.

‘Let’s see if I can find some tissues in my purse…’

The woman offered.

‘Oh that won’t… be….’ Chad’s voice quivered with a deeper exhalation. The nostrils at the delicate nose flared immensely as he cupped one hand over it. ‘Knx!’tscho! k’tscho!'oh... excuse me. I do apologize but that won’t be necessary.’

‘Nonsense. I have both children and grand kids and I can clearly see when someone’s in need of a tissue. Let’s just see if I can find them…’ She rummaged through the purse.

‘Hu’kngh! Knx! Gnxsh!! ‘Chad stifled the sneezes harshly downwards. His nose closed at the touch of the fingertips. ‘..uh’hhGNNhs!’schu.. ah’GNXhh!!’scho… …oh my God.’ He said frustrated, sniffling deeply.

‘Oh bless you poor thing. Here you go.’

He was handed over a pack of Kleenex. Her hand looking kind of frail but with nails painted beautifully. Compassion danced in her eyes.

‘Thank you that’s very kind of you.’

Chad expressed airily. Feeling another tickle building through the sensitive nasal passages. He unfolded a tissue quickly.

‘I do feel sorry for you.’ The lady said worryingly. ‘Have you had allergies for long?’

‘All my life…’ Chad hitched. ‘…ah’hh’Wrnx!!!’uh…’ He roughly stifled into the tissue. ‘Sorry. It’s gotten worse as I grew older.’

‘Oh you poor little thing.’

‘Uh’yEitschew!!! …sorry.’

‘You got someone taking care of you when those allergies act up?’

‘Yea, I….uh… hh, hhh....  ah’GNiixtscho!!’ He lurched forward, the tissues helplessly being held over the mouth. ‘ … goodness, sorry. Luckily for me I do.’ He replied in a muffling sound.

‘That is good.’ The lady nodded. ‘Well I hope those tissues were helpful to some degree.’ She rose from the chair. ‘I’m Hannah, by the way.’

‘…Ch… ah'WASCh'gnxsh!! … so sorry. I’m Chad.’

Chad fished out another tissue and wiped this hands off before they shook hands.

‘Very nice to meet you.’ He sniffled whilst smiling at her. Almost disappointed to be parted from her gentle energy.

‘You too.’

‘Thanks for the… tissues.’ He said a little embarrassed. Another wet sniffle directed up his nose.

‘Oh you’re welcome. Now you’ll remember me as the tissue giver.’ She laughed. It was a heartily sound.

‘I definitely will.’

She gave him a friendly pat on the back, then departed.

[midnightmah07]

𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 ✨ Beauty and the Beast AU! Leobelle (a/n: did ya miss me in the inbox? hehe😙 addieyouarenext)

Glancing over his own reflex, the mirror had an issue to judge Leona, by making him stare down his face over the piece of metal. He was hideous; A beast, in fact. Even so, he doesn’t understand how he has gotten so far, specially with a pretty… No, more than that. Specially with a perfect girl like Isabelle. She was his last shot to lift up the curse, his last chance to learn how to love, his last hope to be able to be the better version of himself… Yes, all of that laid upon a girl who barged in for her father, who took no steps back, who somehow managed to see over his fur.

The clock didn’t stopped, a petal fell, and that’s how Leona grows more desperate. She has to be able to help him. He can only pray she is the one. The curse laid upon the prince was the weight of his shoulders, a reason of why he was so scared to face a modest woman like Isabelle. But what is that curse? You may ask, well, this story takes place before the winter took place as a snowstorm.

Leona, you see, he was a selfish and arrogant person that was able to sit up a throne and wear a pride of a crown. When his brother passed away, Leona was taken in with greediness for power and hunger for superficial things; beauty, is the best example of it.

On top of that, one night, the prince had invited the most beautiful women on the region, in a look for a wife, his eyes travel down the crowd; but only to look away, as soon as he hears the gates opening. Revealing a old lady, crawling into the castle with cold trembling hands… For her stay, she offered a simple rose. A symbol of sympathy as Leona would shelter her from the storm. Yet instead, the same laughed at her face, denying her stay. Except, that she warned him, he shouldn’t just take others by appearance. The green coat falls off to reveal a beautiful woman, long blonde hair and lustrous long green dress. As punishment, she puts on the Prince, a curse. The same, could only go back to normal, if learned how to love and not be deceived by appearances. If he did not learnt until the last petal falls, he would be a beast for eternity.

As years passed and went by, Leona lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast? He wonders that everytime out loud, but instead of being able to rethink the same thought he hears a knock on the door.

“Master, she is ready.” The chandelier; Ruggie, announces Isabelle waiting for Leona.

“I do not ca…” He takes a deep breath. “I will be down in a minute.”

The change of humor sure caught Ruggie’s attention. But both of them were pretty aware of who caused it.

Leona steps down the stairs covered in the clean red carpet with his blue suit and yellow vest, his fur was in a small ponytail, as he gently walked down the stairs, until he stops his tracks looking up to Isabelle. The time freezes, at least that his excuse. Her hair i half down and half pull up in a bun, long ballroom dress on the same shades of the long gloves that is a bright yellow and to mix all up the beautiful golden trails of drawings of roses on Isabelle’s dress. She looks up to him with a soft smile. Because, she. She can learn how to love a beast… Isabelle can learn how to love him.

And that, the lady in green; Adeline. Could see it clearly. The black shadow standing next to her shows up in the moonlight standing on her side.

“So?”

“Not yet, Malleus. Let him say the three little words to each other.” Adeline gives a small smile. Watching the both of them twirling and swinging together around the ballroom.

“If that depends on you he will remain a beast forever…”

“Malleus!”

Adeline gasps crossing her arms over her chest offended by his words, that weren’t a full lie, but still… He could be more sensible about it.

Back to Leona and Isabelle, she lays her head on his chest, making a sparkle feeling on his chest. The tale is old as time, the song is just as old as rhyme, but it all remains the same story, with different people. Beauty and the beast, once again reunited by faith or destiny of some kind, forever meant to be together as the sun will rise. It begins all with just a little change, both of them scared, neither one prepared, but the beauty and the beast will always encounter each other, in every universe, in every life.

WHAT IS THIS. WHAT. I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS. SKSJIEJEISJSJS THEY'RE SO???? THEM??? THEY?????? THEM????? LEOBELLE MY BELOVEDS MY BABIES MY EKDJEKSJOEJDKSNSKDNSKJS AHHHHHHH

THIS IS SO GOOD IM SOBBING IM CRYING IM THROWING UP THEY'RE SOOOOOO IN LOVE IT MAKES ME GO ABSOLUTELY INSANE

I LOVE. HOW U INCLUDED MALLINE HERE TOO. ALSO RUGGIE AS A CHANDELIER MADE ME LAUGH NGL BUT I LOVE IT😭😭😭😭 THIS IS ALL PERFECT NOW!!! KISS!!!!!!!

[tuxedokit]

🪻ALTER LIST🪻

hi ! we are the tuxedokit system ! collectively, we go by either carpet or tuxsys ! 🪻

as follows is a list of everyone in here

"Autopilot" aka Auto Responder | Unknown | it/they - 💾

Luna | 22 | it/that thing - 🌙

Tyx | Adult | it/they - 🚬

Starlight | Ageless | it/one - 🌌

Carpet | 19 | it/that thing/stim - ✨️

Quinn | 15-18 | she/they/any - ✉️

Secret | 13-19 | any/all - 🧩

Little One | 8-12 | they/them - 👾

Blankie | 2-6 | they/paw - 🧸

Ame | 10-17 | they - 🎧

Sayakura | Ageless (Young Adult?) | any - 🧚‍♀️

King Mom Dad Guy | 30s? | he/any - 👑

Quinslap The Weird | Ageless (Old) | he/any - 🧙‍♂️

The Creature | ??? | it/that thing - 🐾

Mango | ??? | it/they - 🐈

— Below are fictives —

Agent 6 | 19-21 | it/they/squid - 🔫

Sollux Captor | 13-19 | they/bee/buzz - 🐝

Jade Harley | Age Slider | they/she/any - 🧬

Rolal | 16-19 | they/any -🍸

Distri | 16-19 | he/dash - 🧢

Kanaya Maryam | 15 | she/blood/💄 - 💄

KARKAT | 6 SWEEPS | HE/THEY/FUCK - ♋️

Nepeta | 6 sweeps! | any cat prns - 🐱

Vriska Serket | 13-16 | she/8/🎱/eight - 🎱

Gamzee | 13 | he/honk/it - ♑️

Solykl | ?? | any neutral prns -🧍

Scrooge McDuck | Ageless (Old Man) | he/they - 💰

Ms. Beakley | Adult | she/her - 🧺

Della Duck | 26-36 | she/any - 🚀

Dewey Duck | 9-17 | he/they - 🎢

Louie Duck | 9-17 | cash/any "knockoffs" - 🤑

Webby Vanderquack | 12-16 | any - 🦄

Isla O'Gilt | Duckling | any for now - 🗺

Miles “Tails” Prower | Kid | any - 🛠

Cosmo | Ageless (Child) | they/fae - 🌸

Shadow | Ageless (15+) | any - 🔭

Amy Rose | 16-20 | she/heart/sweet - 💞

Rouge | 18-25 | she/they/gem - 💎

Avery | 25 | any - 📊

Tickey | Ageless | he/they - 🕰

Mickey Mouse | 20-26 | they/he – 🧀

Felicity Fieldmouse | 30+ | she/her - 📖

Blissey | 6-12 | he/she - 🎀

Brush | Adult | he/they - 🖌

Kenny McCormick | 10-17 | he/she/they - 🪦

Stan Marsh | 10-17 | he/they - 🐕

Tweek | 8-10 | he/him - 🗯

Kart | 10-17 | any pronouns - 🍗

Razputin Aquato | 10 | he/they - 🧠

Dion Aquato | 17 | she/he/they/any - 🎪

Storm | 24 | she/wind - 🌊

Filbo Fiddlepie | 25 | he/they - 🍓

Lizbert Megafig | 27 | she+ - 🧭

Dr. Eggabell Batternugget | 32 | they/she - 🥚

Dr. Floofty Fizzlebean | Adult | they/them - 🥼

Rybin Fizzlebean | Adult | it/they - 📒

Wee Mewon - 🍉

Charmallow - 🍫

Pinkle - 🫙

Stewdler - 🍲

Bunger - 🍔

Kirby | Ageless | any - 💫

Lammy | 22 | it/they - 🎸

Parappa | 16-18 | he/pup - 🎤

Ramona | 23 | she/any - 🛼

Wakko | 11 | any - 😋

Waks | 16-18 | they - 📹

Sandwich | ouppy | any - 🥪

Wilder | ?? | it/that thing - 🏚

Agape | 1000+/11 | it/they/any? - 💜

Angel | Adult | he/him - 😈

Mox | Adult | he/they - ⚰️

Mil | Adult | she/axe - 🪓

Yuri | 18 | she/they - 📓

Mystery | 18 | she/they/bun - 💻

Harmony | 19 | she - 🎤

Shore/Riku | 16 | he/she - ⚔️

Harold Hutchins | 9 | he/🖍 - 🖍

Flutters | 27 | she/they - 🦋

Applejack | 25 | she/they/apple - 🍎

Jax | 22 | he/they/it - 🔑

Zooble | 🖕 | all. make some up - 🖕

The Doctor | 1000+ | any - 🫂

Elsa | 24 | she/chill - ❄️

Wordgirl/Becky | 10.5 | she/they/word/🌟/📖 - 🌟

Mugsy | Child | she/her - ☕️

Wamma | 30s | she/her - 🎊

Summer | 17 | she/her - ☀️

Pico | 20 | he/they/gun - 💀

Nene | 20 | she/it/kill/cute - 🔪

Link | 17+ | any - 🏹

Crafty | ?? | they/art - 🎨

Uniquecorn | ?? | they - ⚪️

Bubba | ?? | he - 💡

Dogpressed | ?? | she/they - 🌧

Annie | Kid | she/it - 🎡

[commander-krios]

WIP Whenever

Sooo I might've written 2k on this WIP today, after obsessing about the idea all morning. Post-Game Calderon/Traveler.

~~~~

Stepping from behind the dressing curtain, Daianira faced him, her hands clutched nervously in front of her, eyes downcast, tracing the patterns in the carpet under his feet. It was odd to see her so quiet, so unsure of herself, but he couldn’t speak. Not when she looked like that in a dark gold gown that spilled in soft waves around her, a sweetheart neckline that plunged low enough to see the top of her breasts. A cuffed choker dripped diamonds across her collarbone, sparkling as she moved into the sunbeams. Her rose gold hair was pulled up into a simple tucked bun, a few pieces of hair curling around her face, framing the beautiful turquoise eyes now lined in gold and burgundy.

Calderon lost the ability to breathe at the sight of her standing there, looking every bit the princess that she was born to be. “You…”

She sighed, fingers itching her nose as she tried to hide her irritation. “I look ridiculous. Like a goddamned porcelain doll.”

With three long strides, he crossed the distance between them, afraid to touch her but his hands twitched with the need to. He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face so that she met his eyes. “You look bewitching, Daia.”

She scrunched her face at him and he almost laughed at how disgruntled she looked. “Is that an insult?”

Calderon shook his head, fingers trailing across her throat, brushing gently over the necklace. She tensed at his touch and he felt like he was touching fire. She burned every part of him, whether she realized it or not. “I don’t need a fancy way to insult you, smartass.”

[landosgirl97]

Day 2- Chase Stokes

It was about 7am when my phone began to ring. I groaned as I rolled over and saw Chase’s name flash across the screen. “Hello” I answered, groggy and annoyed that he was waking me up this early on a Saturday. “Any way you can get to my house in about twenty minutes?” he asked. I looked at my phone. 7:08. “Umm… sure? Why?” “Well.. I need a date to this party tonight and my stylist will be here in 20. I’ll buy you food afterwards, and drinks all night!” I groan. “Chase, we’ve talked about this! Your fans are brutal when it comes to women you’re even SEEN with.” “I know. But.. please! I’m begging. And, it’s Armani that’s styling me..” There was a pause before I sat up in bed. “I’ll be there in 15.” I got up, threw on a pair of sweats and put my hair in a messy bun before driving over to Chase’s house. I got there in almost exactly 15 minutes. He must’ve seen me on the security camera, because he opened the door before I could even knock. “Thank you for doing this. I seriously can’t go stag again. It’s so annoying.” I just rolled my eyes and pushed past him into the house… only to see his publicist sitting on the couch. She looked up at me and rose from her spot on the couch. “So I’m assuming Chase filled you in.. so when they ask you questions, be sure to say you’ve been dating since the end of season 2.. And that-” “Wait.. WHAT?!” I turned around and looked at Chase. “Yeah.. about tonight.. I need you to be my fake girlfriend.” I shook my head, heading for the door. “No way. Not happening.” Chase grabbed my wrist and spun me around. “Please.. Y/N.. I really need this and you’re the only one I trust.” I sigh and turn around, sitting in the chair facing the publicist. “Okay, what do I need to know?”

I was almost so nervous, to the point that I was shaking right before we got out of the limo. Chase laid his hand on my thigh and gave it a light squeeze. “You’re going to be fine. We’ve got this.” As soon as the limo pulled up to the curb, he helped you out and you took a deep breath before smiling for the cameras. You heard a chorus of shouts of his name and just tried to focus on not falling and staying in step with him. You got to your spot on the carpet and raised your head to smile. As soon as they were done taking the photos, you and Chase walked forward to answer one of the interviewers questions. “So Chase, who is here with you today?” Chase wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “my wonderful girlfriend Y/N!” “Girlfriend? How long have you been off the market? We were all convinced that you were single?” “Nope, he is definitely taken!” I smirked, wrapping my arm around him. “We’ve been together since the end of filming Season 2!” I stated. “Wow! Well we are all very happy for you, enjoy your night!” I smiled at the camera before Chase looked down at me, placing a chaste kiss on my lips. It was then that I realized, I wasn’t faking much at all.

Tag List: @pankhoeforlife @wannabestarkeysgirl @maybankslover @bethoconnor @samxslaughter @tishanas-darlings @jjmaybank63 @outerbankspov @pankowperfection @hoebx @adventuresinobx @penny4yourthoughts

[kattartsblog]

Genderswap!Bucci Gang: 3 outfits and a Formal

Finally it’s finished!!! :D Gosh it took forever but it was well worth the challenge.

And now to say my favorites.

Of Giorno’s outfits I like the summer hat and gingham crop top, the flower clipped on is that flower from that manga panel everyone kept redrawing. Originally I wanted it to be a rose or something but I thought it would be a nice little reference. But I also like the one with the bun, it’s giving mean girls, scream queens, and Heathers energy.

Fugo’s outfits are a bit of a mixed bag but I like the puce sweater with the ripped laces. Underneath is this peter pan collar black tube top, I think she would have bought the sweater and modded it herself.

Mista’s outfits aren’t my favorite to be honest, but I do love the one with the epilogue color schemes and the sporty athletic skirt. The Garfield Mista is an homage to the meme that was started by @sboopie and @corpsoir . It couldn’t be helped at this point XD. Maybe I’ll draw a proper garfsta eventually. ^0^;;

Now one of my favorites of Narancia’s outfits I drew would have to be between the blue one and the one with the tinted sunglasses. The blue one is a reference to Narancia’s eyes of heaven colors, it offsets a lot of the abundance of orange in her wardrobe. The tinted sunglasses outfit has a sort of 90s raver feel, I always sort of headcanoned Narancia as the party animal type.

Bruno’s mom outfit is hilarious and simple, originally I had a totally different outfit but I scrapped it in favor of mom jeans. However my real favorite outfit is 100% the skirt with the white fishnets. Like Bruno’s original outfit, it has a formal office feel, and it has a more mature feel. It’s simple and really pretty!

Abbacchio’s outfits are a bit of a mixed bag, so it’s between the purple netted rope long dress and the pierced sweater short dress. The purple rope dress was more or less an extension of Abbacchio’s original design. The sweater dress on the other hand has a tube top heart boob window with a broken heart. It was semi inspired by Lilla from Spooky Month.

Finally Trish has the best outfits imo, but the best would have to be between the N’sync inspired red carpet long jacket and the air brush top. The N’Sync outfit was the first thing I thought of and originally I wanted it to be the formal outfit. This outfit screams night on the town for me, dude’s got a gold chain! Now the air brush top has 3 inspiration’s; Trish’s anime outfit, the dress with Spice girl she wore in a chapter cover, and those tacky air brush bikini tee shirt dresses that people would wear as a cover up at the beach. Other than the top, the outfit has some rebellious punkish elements with the pants and spiked boots.

My final verdict on who the best formal outfit is; Giorno’s tutu tool dress. Even though it was the hardest to line art, I love how free flowing it is!

Here are 3 outfits and Formal wear fem!la squadra and here’s my take of Genderswap!Bucci gang’s normal outfits.

[ravendruid]

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 11

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. Summary: Vox Machina go out to drink and Keyleth and Vax get to know each other a bit more. Disclaimer: the legal drinking age in this AU is 18, and all characters are 18 or over.

Glorious was indeed an apt name for the bar. It was located in a nondescript small street not too far from campus where the dark brick buildings blended so well collectively during the night that Keyleth couldn’t distinguish between them. The only way she could tell of the bar’s existence was the faint purple aura that emanated from the wooden door, along with the sign hanging above it: a golden unicorn over a dark background and Glorious written above it, in equally gold, beautifully calligraphed lettering.  

Keyleth and Vax had walked side by side, trailing the group who already knew their way to the establishment even with their eyes closed. She couldn’t stop blushing from how handsome he looked. There wasn’t much difference in his clothes, Vax was still wearing all black and his leather jacket, and part of his hair was tied in a bun as the rest fell to his shoulders. But something about seeing him out in the dark of night made him look more mysterious and sexier. Keyleth, on the other hand, had tried to put a little more effort into her look, she was wearing a white mid-thigh skirt and a red long-sleeve top with a curved neckline, and she had traded her canvas sneakers for a pair of black high heels that she borrowed from Vex, which made her even taller than Vax. Pike had helped her do her hair – two braids that pulled from the front, along the sides of her head and tied into a tall ponytail that cascaded past her shoulders – and Vex had helped with the make-up, a light red and orange toned eyeshadow, dark eyeliner and mascara and a soft pink lipgloss. Keyleth definitely felt pretty – prettier than she had ever felt – and seeing the boys’ reactions when the girls left their bedroom was absolutely worth it.

Keyleth wasn’t sure what she expected when Vex opened the wooden door – she had never been to a bar before, which was already making her nervous – but a beaded curtain in different shades of purple, pink, and golden was not it. Her friends disappeared through the curtain into the purple glow and the thankfully not-so-loud music inside, and as Grog stepped in behind Pike, Keyleth took a deep breath, readying herself for what was about to come.

“Wait,” Vax held her wrist softly, pulling her closer to him. His eyes searched for hers, and she saw her anxiety mirrored in them. “You say the word, we go, got it?” His voice trembled in a whisper. Keyleth swallowed and nodded.

“Let’s just–” She sighed. “Let’s just give it a try. For them?”

“Yeah, let’s try to have fun.” They both nodded in agreement, and Keyleth stepped in.

The first thing Keyleth noticed was that the bar looked much bigger inside than the outside appeared to be and that the purple aura they had seen from underneath the door came from the faint purple glow of lights spread around the area. The room was filled with old wooden tables and booths whose black leather seats were worn yet not ripped, and each table had a bowl with what seemed to be floating purple candles and rose petals. The walls were adorned with various curtains and fabrics in diverse shades of purple, lilac, soft pinks, and golden accents. On the opposite side of the entrance was a wall displaying dozens of bottles behind a long wooden counter where a very handsome man in his mid-twenties with long, thick, coarse black hair tied into a ponytail stood, greeting everyone and serving drinks. Even his attire appeared to fit perfectly with the purple and gold theme of the bar. To Keyleth’s right was a set of doors – one marked as restrooms, and the other had an employees-only sign affixed to it – and to her left was a wooden staircase with deep purple carpet and golden trim, that led to a second floor, much to her surprise.

Her friends were already gathered around a booth in the farthest corner, so Keyleth looked back at Vax and nodded in their direction. Thankfully, the bar area didn’t have many people yet, but he still followed her like a shadow, with the tips of his fingers just briefly touching her back in reassurance as she traversed the tables. Keyleth sat on the bench between Pike, on her right, and Vax, on her left. Grog, the bulkiest of the group, had stolen a chair from another table and sat at the top with a grin, so thankfully, they weren’t too crowded in the booth. Keyleth couldn’t help but notice that Vax was pressed to her side, yet his touch was relaxing and comforting, even though she knew he must have been as anxious as she was. 

“Alright, first round’s on me,” Grog announced, getting up. 

“I would like a Margarita, please, Grog,” Vex asked.

“You know what I want, buddies.” Pike chuckled in her seat, winking at Vex.

“Right, a beer. I gotchu, Pikey.” Grog had taken out his phone and was avidly typing on it.

“I’ll take the usual, please.” Scanlan shuffled in his seat, avoiding eye contact with Pike, who sat right in front of him.

“A cospomolitan for Scanlan,” Grog smirked.

“It’s cosmopolitan, Grog,” Pike corrected with a chuckle, much to Scanlan’s embarrassment.

“I’ll take a Long Island Iced Tea, please,” Percy asked.

“Percy, we are here to get wasted, not to drink tea!” Grog complained.

“It is alcohol, Grog. I promise.” 

Grog looked at Pike and Vex, and when they nodded in confirmation, he shrugged and typed on his phone.

“How about you two?” He looked at Vax and Keyleth, who had been watching the entire thing like a game of tennis.

“I–I’ll take a soda,” Keyleth said.

“They don’t have sodas here, Keyleth.” Keyleth could tell from the deadpan look Grog gave her that he was obviously lying.

“O–oh?” 

“Grog, get Keyleth the same as me,” Vex said in a sultry tone. “Trust me, darling. You’ll love it.” She winked, and Keyleth’s face flushed.

“Alright, and you?” Grog turned to Vax eagerly.

“Sex on the beach, please,” Vax replied nonchalantly. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Grog asked, confused, looking around at everyone else chuckling in their seats.

“You heard me, big guy.” Vax smiled and winked at Grog. Keyleth joined the laughter as Grog, rarely embarrassed by anything, nodded with a blush spreading on his cheeks and turned away to the bar.

“I think you broke him, Vax.” Pike joked, and Vax chuckled in reply. 

Keyleth would not have considered Grog particularly dextrous, so she was surprised when he returned to the table a few minutes later, holding one tray of drinks in each hand, his tongue out in concentration. However, Keyleth was also scared because, as he set down both trays, she noticed the second tray was full of fourteen shot glasses, a salt shaker, and a plate with lime slices. 

“O-oh no,” Keyleth blushed as Vax handed her two shot glasses and her drink. 

“What?” Vex smirked at her from across the table. “Scared of a little Tequila shot?”

Keyleth widened her eyes at her and fumbled with her hands in her lap nervously.

“I can take one of yours,” Vax said, glaring at his sister, who raised an eyebrow at him. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m just not used to drinking much.” Keyleth took a sip of her drink, and the hairs of her arms rose at the same time that cold spread down her spine. Her throat felt warm and cold at the same time, and the bitterness of the drink made her shiver. “Oh, this is strong,” Keyleth cleared her throat, and Vex laughed.

“Oh, darling. We’re gonna have so much fun tonight,” Vex winked at Keyleth again, who tried to hide further back in her seat.

“Alright, you guys know the drill,” Pike called to their attention, grabbing a lime slice and setting it on one of her shot glasses. Keyleth observed as, one by one, her friends licked the back of their hands and poured salt over it, and then grabbed a slice of lime. She looked to her side, only to see Vax smiling at her as he licked the back of his hand with a shrug. 

“You don’t have to do it,” He reassured her, pouring salt where he had licked. 

“Yes, she does. Shut up, brother,” Vex complained. “You’ll be fine, Keyleth. We won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Vex offered a kind, honest smile, which made her feel better, so Keyleth copied her friends once Vax was done with the shaker, licking the back of her hand and pouring salt over it. 

“Vox Machina,” Grog shouted, raising his shot glass in the middle of the table, followed by everyone else. “Fuck. Shit. Up.” He screamed so loud that Keyleth looked around to see if anyone had heard them – a few people were looking at the group in amusement – and he brought the glass to his lips and drank the clear liquid at once, bringing the lime slice to his mouth right away to suck on it. 

“It’s easier if you don’t think about it,” Vax said in a whisper next to her, and Keyleth noticed his glass was still full. “Ready?” She nodded. Vax clinked his glass with hers, keeping eye contact, and, with a reassuring smile, he downed his drink at the same time she downed hers. 

Keyleth recognized the same flavor as the one in the tall glass Vex had ordered for her as the warmth spread down her throat. From the corner of her eye, she saw Vax was still looking at her, offering her a lime slice, which she took gladly and sucked the citric juices. That was a mistake. Keyleth shouldn’t have taken his offering. She thought the juices would somehow lessen the effect of the alcohol on her throat, but it did the opposite.

“Are you okay?” Pike asked, on the other side of her, as Keyleth coughed again.

“Yes,” She lied. She couldn’t tell if the short girl believed her because Vex was already up, pushing Percy to his feet with one hand and grabbing Scanlan with the other, who, in turn, was clutching Pike. 

“Let’s dance,” Vex shouted, grabbing her drinks and heading to the stairs. Pike, Grog, and Scanlan followed her immediately, both drinks in hand, but Percy stayed behind, sitting back on the bench in front of Keyleth and Vax. 

“I’m sorry, Vex-” Percy tried to apologize,

“I know my sister, Percival,” Vax took a sip of his drink. “You can go join them if you want. Keyleth and I will save the table.” 

Percy looked at Keyleth, who smiled reassuringly at him, and asked, “Will you be alright?”

“Yes, I will.” She blushed. She knew she would be as long as she was not left alone. 

“Just text me if you need anything, okay?” Percy grabbed her hand from the other side of the table, and Keyleth nodded. Percy followed the group up the stairs with one last glance at Vax, leaving his second shot glass behind on the table.

“Do you want to try my drink?” Vax asked, and Keyleth glanced at it nervously. “It’s sweet and fruity,” he added. She shrugged and leaned to take a sip. He was right, the alcohol was less noticeable, and it had a nice fruity taste.

“I like yours better,” Keyleth said, leaning back.

“Everyone loves sex on the beach,” Vax joked, wiggling his eyebrows at her, but Keyleth stared at him deadpan. “I-it’s the name-” Vax stuttered, obviously nervous, but she started laughing.

“I know. I was just teasing you.” She admitted, holding her stomach. Vax relaxed next to her, his body physically sagging against hers. 

“Here,” he slid his glass to her and took hers, taking a sip with a wince. “I fucking hate margaritas, but they are a cheap and easy way to get drunk.”

“Really?” Keyleth sipped on the fruity drink, much happier now. “Do you and Vex go out a lot?”

“We used to. There was a time when we would go out almost every week, and I hated every single time.”

“You’re a good brother,” Keyleth didn’t even have to ask why he went with Vex if he hated it so much. She knew Vax would do anything for his sister, even if it meant he would be miserable.

“Do you have siblings?” he asked, playing with the lime on the rim of his glass.

Keyleth tensed at the question and looked down at her lap. “Nope, only child.”

“Gods, you’re so lucky,” Vax bumped his shoulder against hers, and when she looked at him, he rolled his eyes, which made her chuckle. 

“Although my neighbor, Lia, has a son. He’s four, and he’s the sweetest boy ever. I’ve basically helped her raise him because his good-for-nothing father left her when he found out she was pregnant.”

“Hmm,” For some reason, Keyleth knew the unpleasant hum was not due to the drink Vax was sipping on. “I love douchebag fathers.” 

“Yeah, he was an ass. So I babysat that boy every day after school for four years. He’s like a little brother to me.” Keyleth’s heart clenched, thinking about the little boy’s green eyes filled with tears when she had to explain she was going away to college and wouldn’t be able to play with him after school every day anymore. He had cried all night cuddled with Keyleth, insisting he wanted to stay with her until she left but compromising with staying for the weekend.

“You okay?” Vax asked, clearly feeling her discomfort.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about him.”

“Tell me more about him,” He asked, bumping his shoulder to hers with a smile. 

Keyleth’s face opened in a smile as she told Vax about the little boy she had grown to love as her brother. They talked until the only liquid in their glasses was the water that melted from the ice cubes. Keyleth told Vax about the adventures they had together, how he was such a great helper in the garden, the cakes and desserts they baked every weekend, and how he was growing to be a fine gentleman who always offered to open the door for her, even when he could barely reach the handles.

Eventually, after almost an hour, Vex’ahlia came looking for them, outraged to see their shot glasses still standing full in front of them and taking the one Percy had left behind.

“You guys don’t have to stay here all night. There is enough room upstairs. Join us. And drink your shots!” She scolded them before she returned to the group. 

“I did promise I would have a drink with you,” Keyleth shrugged.

“You don’t have to,” Vax offered with a smile, but she was already licking the back of her hand. The second shot wasn’t as bad, maybe because she already knew what to expect, and it felt like it didn’t burn as much. 

“Let’s go dance, I guess?” 

Keyleth wasn’t sure if it had been the second shot or the fact that she had been sitting for a while, but as soon as she stood up, everything around her started spinning, and she felt like she was falling, straight into Vax’s arms, who had quickly realized what was happening.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.

“Everything is spinning,” Keyleth closed her eyes and let her head fall onto his chest. Vax tightened the grip on her, holding her upright.

“You got up too fast after drinking. Just take a moment.”

“I think I’m okay now,” Keyleth pulled away after a minute, no longer feeling the room spinning around her. “Let’s go dance.” She said with a bashful smile, holding Vax’s arm tightly and pulling him towards the stairs. 

Keyleth felt a different kind of warmth inside, a low buzz in her navel that made her want to stay close to Vax. His arms felt stronger than before when he held her, his chest was more comfortable than the other times she had leaned into it, and his scent was even more intoxicating. Keyleth was not an experienced drinker, so she assumed that whatever those feelings were, they were due to the alcohol and that everything would return to normal the next day. She wasn’t worried about the chill that traveled down her spine when Vax placed one hand on the small of her back as they climbed up the stairs – Keyleth had felt that before with him – what worried her was the warmth she felt in her lower abdomen and the new tingling sensation between her thighs. 

[follyglass]

Follyglass : Inheritance

When our grandfather talked about the red-on-white china set in his house, he reverently called it ‘our inheritance.’The porcelain shone from the darkened cupboard, and unlike other families I knew, we didn’t even take it out and use it on holidays; instead we ate our squash and turkey from plastic plates.

I never really saw what was so special about the china set; instead of lushly spangled roses and birds in ecstasy, these plates and teacups and bowls had old-timey scenes of bridges and creeks and trees. You know. Normal stuff that you could see if you just looked out the window. Just older. Sometimes, I thought that if the artist was alive now, she’d try to paint something like the tipping barn a few roads over or get all poetic and waste her talent painting a scene of Lou’s Pizza Shack. And I say that as someone who deeply respects Lou’s Pizza Shack.

And, get this, the china set isn’t even complete. We know this because grandpa would sometimes confess that “There are already quite a few pieces missing,” and he’d smile about it like it was an accomplishment.

My dad once told us that Great Aunt Delvey once broke a cup. He added that she seemed pretty happy about it, and I could only guess was that she thought the set was frogbutt-ugly, too.

So, yeah. The stupid set of china that wasn’t even pretty and had pieces missing and broken was, as grandpa put it to the family “Our glorious inheritance.”

But still, the older people in our family didn’t disagree. Well, except maybe Great Aunt Delvey, but she wasn’t around anymore to dispute it.

Not that I really said anything, but what I most disliked about the whole business was that my older brother never shared in the enthusiasm of the grown-ups in the family. I could only only conclude that he thought he would be skipped over if and when the china set was passed down, on account of him being adopted, and the set was only for - as grandma put it - “True Willoughby Family.” This only made me hate the whole thing more. If they didn’t consider Ty to be Willoughby, well then, I wanted to be skipped over, too.

Stupid plates. Stupid rules for a stupid inheritance.

But.

On Ty’s sixteenth birthday while everyone else was outside eatin’ hot dogs and coleslaw and shimmying jello birthday cake, the inside of my grandparents’ house was cool and quiet, and I sat undisturbed on the rough carpet in the den while I colored in some drawings. When the kitchen door opened, and I heard Ty’s voice and grandpa’s, I watched quietly. Unnoticed.

In a kindly way, Grandpa began explaining the history of the porcelain to Ty. How old it was. Who painted it. Why she painted it (the story : there used to be a whole Willoughby County in Maine, and before it all just poof disappeared, Hesta Willoughby began to paint all of everything she saw). And then I waited for Grandpa to say ‘sorry, son, you aren’t a true Willoughby, so no red plate for you, best I can do is this plastic cup and how about an already opened pack of hot dog buns?’ but he didn’t. Instead, Grandpa said to Ty, “Pick one, whatever you’d like. It’s yours and always will be. You’re a Willoughby, and I’m pleased to give you your glorious inheritance.”

Ty opened the cabinet and after a few moments, plucked out a saucer.

“Oh, that’s a good piece. Real good piece. You’re absolutely sure?” asked grandpa.

Ty nodded yes,“I like the clouds over the hills. Thank you.”

From where I was, I couldn’t tell if Ty really liked it or not. He was quiet. Perhaps being overly polite. Grandpa whispered something else to Ty and gave him a hug.

A week later, I found pieces of the saucer in Ty’s room. Smashed. I wanted to ask him, but never could, and I was doubly confused when Ty seemed the happiest he had ever been. “King of my castle,” he said, and Dad Jeff replied “Of course you are!”

It was enough to me that Ty had been given something, and thus was considered my brother through and through, so I didn’t guess at anything, which was hard. If he was happy, I was happy.

And I wasn’t bitter anymore. The pictures on the porcelain seemed friendlier. The red strokes became livelier. Sometimes I gazed into the cupboard and wondered when it was my time, what would I pick?

Years later, after I had stood in front of the cabinet and picked out a teacup (a pond with ducks and a willow) Grandpa hugged me and whispered “When you’re alone, smash it, trust me, kid, it’s your glorious Willoughby inheritance”

It was. I’ll admit I broke the rules in that I wasn’t alone. When me and Ty were out in the back on the rocks, I smashed the little red teacup and a world forgotten unfurled from the shards. The pond, the ducks, the willows…..it all ‘became’ in front of us, these pieces of memory rendered true and wild in tender red strokes. The hills beyond, and the skies above; it was all a glorious inheritance of a county that only existed anymore in our family’s hands, our own little Willoughby kingdoms.

And me and Ty set off in the red to go find the castle we could see in the distance.

[askthedespairkids]

The Night Belongs to Us

*In Naomi’s room, Amaterasu sits behind her, quietly putting in the finishing touches to Naomi’s hair. It’s just far enough off a bridal bun to still look suitable, but not neat enough to draw suspicion*

Amaterasu: ...there. Looks good.

Naomi: It does. I didn’t think you were so good with hair, Amaterasu-san.

Amaterasu: One of my many talents.

Naomi: Clearly. But are not already running a little late? We should hurry up. *She smooths out her dress and stands up* ...I’m worried. Don’t I look a little formal just for us all getting together.

Amaterasu: Considering the circumstances, why not allow yourself to look a little more formal. Besides...*She checks herself out, in the dusty pink tailored suit* It would a shame to let Maemi-chan’s designs go to waste. (Even if the colour washes me out).

Naomi: True to that. Should we go?

Amaterasu: Yeah. *She puts her hand in her pocket, clicking a button on a remote inside*

______________________

*At the wedding venue, everyone has arrived in their outfits. Junpei has a buzzer is his suit trouser pocket that alarms*

That’s Amaterasu-san’s signal, everyone! Which means Naomi’s gonna be here soon!

Alright! Places, everybody! This is it!

*He walks up to Junpei* How’s Graves doin’?

Orochi’s calming them down in the back. I think we’ll be okay...no turning back after all this anyway.

...hey. Thanks.

Huh? What for?

Y’gotta ask? You’ve done all this for my niece. I’ll always appreciate you for all the work you’ve done. And you’ve been her friend for all these year...to be honest, because of her connections to Hope’s Peak, she didn’t always have the most healthy friendships in school...so thanks for that as well.

...of course. Naomi’s been taking care of me all this time. It’s the least I can do for her.

_____________________

Naomi: Oh man, how far down the beach is this?

Amaterasu: Not too much further. They must’ve really wanted the décor to be a surprise.

Naomi: *She spots the flames of some torches up ahead* Ugh finally. *She reaches the torches and finds that boards have been placed down on the sand to make it easier for Naomi to walk in her heels* Well, they had the sense to this much at least.

Amaterasu: Go ahead.

Naomi: Huh?

Amaterasu: *Gestures down the road of boards* I’ll be behind you. Just go ahead.

Naomi: You’re being weird.

Amaterasu: ...

Naomi: ...*She sighs* Alright then? *She continues ahead, as she moves along the path, music starts to become audible in the distance. Soft piano music that enhances the evening atmosphere. The torches become bigger and the decorations become more noticeable. White and pink ribbons on the torches, small arrangements of balloons along the path*

*Naomi eventually turns a corner made by pots of greenery and white arches, coming around to the ceremony itself. The boardwalk is decorated with a white carpet and on either side are assortments of chairs. Her whole class, her uncle, and Kyouko and Makoto are present, all dressed up for the occasion. Kyoji stands at the end of the white carpet underneath the balloon arch. Off to the side, Kaede is delicately playing on the piano next to an extravagant four-tiered cake*

Naomi: I...*She almost laughs* What is all this...? It’s looks like-

A wedding?

Naomi: ...*Her faces turns to realisation* This...this-

*Karma walks out from behind some of the shrubbery decorations, dressing in a pink and light blue tuxedo with a tailcoat. Their baseball cap is still sitting proudly upon their head, with a white rose attached to it. They walk down to the top of the aisle up to Naomi*

Karma: ...hi there.

Naomi: ...this is a wedding? For us?

Karma: Surprise? *They grin sheepishly* Junpei coordinated all of it to make a surprise...

Naomi: Junpei-kun?

Karma wanted to get married before...

Karma: Yeah...I’m sorry! If you hate all this, then I totally understand! I promise you don’t have to count this at all! Once the fighting is over, we can have another wedding - an even bigger one that you can have complete control over! We’ll have a traditional Japanese wedding! Or a traditional Jewish wedding, if you’d prefer...honestly, I don’t know much about either-

Naomi: *She starts to giggle and then breaks into a laugh*

Karma: Wh...what’s so funny? Is it the suit?!

Naomi: No no, love, you look wonderful. It’s all...*She takes in, and breathlessly says* Wonderful...

Karma: You’re not mad then?

Naomi: Oh, I definitely will be having a redo after the battle. But this? It’s just...beautiful. You all...you all look amazing as well. And thank you, Maemi-san, for the dress.

*Maemi is dressed in a pale blue dress with darker blue detailing, her hair pulled back in a ponytail* No, no. Thank Muro-kun for that one.

Naomi: I shall.

And let’s not forget the most important part- go on, kiddo.

*Madoka walks around in a dress the same shade of pink as Naomi’s dress’ details, with a small basket of flower petals. She looks up at Naomi and then reaches into the basket and throws a handful of petals at her*

Madoka: Bwam!

Naomi: *She laughs and crouches down to Madoka* Aw, Mado, you look beautiful. Definitely more beautiful than mommy.

Karma: So, um...Naomi.

Naomi: *She stands back up* Yes?

Karma: Do you wanna get married...?

Naomi: *She giggles* Like you need to even ask.

Karma: Okay...okay! *They run back down and stand at the arch.*

*Kaede takes her cue to start playing again. With some encouragement, Madoka walks down the aisle, clumsily throwing the petals down onto the ground before going to the side.*

*He offers his arm* If I may have the pleasure of walking you down?

Naomi: Of course. *She takes Koichi’s arm and the two walk down*

...I’m sorry this is all happening without your parents...

Naomi: *Her smile shakes bit* I know...but they’d be happy, right?

Overjoyed. And very proud.

Naomi: Then that’s enough.

*The two reach the arch and Koichi lets Naomi go and she stand opposite Karma. Koichi takes his seat as Junpei and Sadao stand and join Karma’s side, in similarly designed tuxedos. Similarly, Kyouko and Orochi stand to join Naomi’s side...in matching dusty pink dresses*

Naomi: *She stops herself from chuckling* I should’ve know you’d try and out dress me.

As if I could.

*She presents Naomi with a bouquet of her favourite flowers* You look beautiful, Naomi.

Naomi: You do too. I better be the maid of honour at your wedding.

Hey-

Naomi: *She turns her back to Kyouko with a sly grin* Alright...I’m ready.

Then we’ll begin.

We’re gathered here today to celebrate the love and union between Naomi Kizakura and Karma Graves. Before we begin, if anyone should have any reason that these two should not be married-

Karma: Keep it to yourself.

*A few people laugh*

That works too.

Now, usually this is the part where we would go through the story of how the two met, and how they fell in love and how their story got to this day. Though with such short notice, and with it being a surprise to one of our parties I couldn’t exactly get a rounded story.

Naomi: Well, we were all there for the king’s game.

So...I’ll pass it to our couple. They can tell us their story through their own words.

Naomi: Just...off the cuff?

Karma: Sorry.

Naomi: No, it’s fine! Not a hard topic to talk about.

Karma: Then, will I...?

Naomi: If I could?

Karma: O-of course!

Naomi: I don't have my vows planned out, because someone didn't bother telling me I was getting married until… What, thirty seconds ago? And despite my many skills, coming up with speeches on the spot is… Not one of these. So I'll keep it short. *She takes a breath and looks into Karma’s eyes* Anyway, Karma. I loved you for years, we have a kid together, and I promise to love you and to care for you for the rest of my life. I'm sure there should be like three more sections of things I promise, but I don't remember them now, so I'll just go with those. I think those are the big ones. And now I'm rambling, so I will stop. Love and care. Let's stick to these.

Karma: *They’re grinning like an idiot* I love that. Very you.

Naomi: Would rather get it out of the way than stand thinking ‘Agh, what to say?’ *They both giggle*

Karma: *They take a breath, nervously taking out a piece of paper* Sorry, I just...I’m worried I’ll forget something I wanna say.

Naomi: Go ahead.

Karma: *They nod* Naomi... God I had a hard time writing this, not because of anything bad, but because there is so much I wish I could say. I just don't have the words. From our first kiss at the Christmas Party, all the way to now, I've loved spending my life with you in my arms, and I will continue to. Naomi, you help me feel safe and grounded, and I only hope to provide you and Mado with the same sense of love and safety. I adore you, and have nothing but hope and excitement for our future together once the world is back in order. I promise to look out for you and Mado, and to bring joy into your lives, as you have done with mine. You fill me with nothing but love and happiness, and I am so happy to have you in my life. I wouldn't trade our time together for anything. You're my light in the dark, and I promise to treasure that. Here's to our future, come what may. I love you Naomi, and that's never gonna change.

Naomi: ...*She clears her throat, clearly struggling to stop herself from tearing up* I love you, too.

Do you, Karma Graves, take Kizakura Naomi to be your lawfully wedded wife?

Karma: I do.

And do you, Kizakura Naomi, take Karma Graves to your lawfully wedded partner?

Naomi: *She grins* I do.

Then by the power vested in me by...

Junpei? *A few people laugh*

I hereby pronounce you officially married.

*Karma and Naomi come together for a final kiss as the ceremony attendees break out into cheers. From the sides, Rina and Amaterasu throw rose petals over the two. Naomi and Karma giggle and look across the party*

Karma: ...I love you.

Naomi: ...I love you more.

[shoshiwrites]

while spring is making promises outside — a flower shop AU featuring my OC Jo. Chapter 8/9. Some chapters a little NSFW.

Catch up at the link!

In July, she finds an apartment with Lena, Evie's friend. It's tiny but it's got hardwood floors and it's full of light. The walls are begging to be decorated. With entirely removable installations, of course. 

Move-in day somehow turns into a gathering, with Clara and the boyfriend who's no longer a face on the screen bringing beer and a rug for the floor, and Frankie with a cooler and Tupperware for the fridge that still needs to be plugged in, and her and Bill and Joe with the boxes. There aren't many of them, which she feels something about, and maybe the next thing is hope. Fran stops by later with the baby, toddling around the plush flowers and birds of the carpet's design. 

A while after they've all left, and Lena's gone to meet a classmate for coffee — in Clara's absence Jo feels obligated to raise an affectionate eyebrow — Joe comes back with a clean shirt and a bunch of dusk-colored roses in his hand. 

"You need a record player," he says, switching on the radio.

She makes a face. "Don't tell me you're secretly a snob." They've gotten in play-fights over his cassettes before, the ones he still insists taking with him in the truck on long rides to events. It is possibly very annoying that the truck, old enough to still have a cassette deck, justifies him in this regard.

"I got a friend who fixes 'em up."

"Can you get me a discount?"

"You think I'd make my girl pay for her own gift?"

Her heart jumps at that, without warning. "I'm your girl?" It sounds ridiculous when she says it like that, when she doubts what's standing there in front of her putting flowers in a jar.

"You want me to prove it?" 

She exhales, rolls her head back all exaggerated, and he laughs. 

"You like it when I say that?"

"Stop," she laughs. 

Faintly on the radio behind him there's a shimmering bassline, a drawn-out vocal. "Dance with me?" She doesn't move. "C'mon, gotta practice for the big to-do."

It's not for a couple more weeks, Bill and Fran's wedding. Joe's tux hangs in his closet, under the plastic, and her dress is still back at her old room. 

"I'm proud of you," she says, nuzzling up under his chin. The words are so quiet, and only for him. He kisses her hairline in agreement.  They sway for a few moments, letting the second stretch. His voice is warm against her ear. "Ma says I'm bringing you to dinner next week or I'm not invited." She freezes a little, and he only holds her tighter. "Hey, she'll love you. I showed my sisters some of your stuff and they're fighting over who gets to hire you first." She's still trying to straighten her shoulders. "Listen," he says, "they'll love you." Because I love you. "You're my girl."

The wedding spills over with joy. The arrangements are huge, orange and red and pink, and beautiful against the ivory. Fran has a crown of roses, and a little matching headband for her daughter. Everything is summer. There's fans everywhere for the heat, cold lemonade at the VFW hall for the reception. Jo hand-lettered the signs, with line drawings of the flowers. She can't hide her smile when she overhears the compliments.

Frankie sidles up somewhere between the hors d'oeuvres and the dancing and squeezes her hand. "We did good," she says.

"Hey, I'm not the genius visionary."

Frankie rolls her eyes, but it's full of affection. "Talent can only get you so far." She's smiling, blonde curls escaping her messy bun. Her voice goes soft after a minute, and low. "It was never about charity, you know that right?"

Jo's surprised to hear the tightness in her own voice. "Yeah."

Bill gets in his I told ya so's about 47 times while they're dancing. Her dress is stuck to the small of her back, the floaty chiffon printed with watercolor flowers, and her hair curls around her ears. Joe tells her she's beautiful; she's happy just to feel like a person, someone here in their body, taking up space. 

At some point they all kick off their shoes on the floor. It's all the old hits, the ones that get the grandparents dancing and the ones that make the twenty-somethings reminisce. Somewhere between Frankie Valli and Edwin McCain, he pulls her even closer. She's pressed against his chest, the dress shirt he's pushed up to his elbows. 

"I think I love you," she murmurs, quiet enough for only him to hear. It still shakes a little, bare. She can feel the way his hold goes even more tender around her. 

"That's good," he says. "Because I'm building you a desk."

"You're what?"

"You'll see it when you're over this weekend." They're not so much dancing anymore as him pulling her along, still caught on what he'd said. He kisses her, when he doesn't hear her say anything. Her nose brushes against the medallion half-hidden under his shirt. "And I love you too." The song ends, but they don't break apart. "You think I woulda hung around that much if I didn't?"

[miazims]

Here is the 11th prompt of @hauntedtrait's "Fangs 31 day challenge" It's Red carpet photo op so I dressed my sim Erica in a glamorous outfit.

CC links under the cut.

Hair: renee bun | dogsill on Patreon

Earrings: The Sims Resource - Pride Rainbow Earrings

Necklace: The Sims Resource - Arltos Necklace 02

Eyeshadow: The Sims Resource - #MaxisMatch Eyeshadow | N4

Eyeliner: Bonus gift - Graphic Eyeliner | TwistedCat on Patreon

Blush: [poyopoyo] Rose Set | Makeup Set n10 | PoyoPoyo on Patreon

Lipstick: The Sims Resource - Lipstick A53

Dress: Glitter Blue Wave Gown (4 color) | Rusty's on Patreon

Ring: The Sims Resource - Sapphire Ring

Nails: The Sims Resource - Nails 16

Shoes: The Sims Resource - Pointed simple high heels / 70

[reasoningdaily]

Photo by Amy Sussman / Staff/Getty Images

Stunning, functional, and super versatile—whether you’re new to cornrows or you’ve been wearing them forever, these classic braids are true game-changers when you’re looking to keep your hair gorgeous and protected. Alicia Fuentes, texture expert at Maggie Rose Salon, says it’s because cornrows keep natural hair “tucked away from day-to-day styling, heat tools, and the elements.” Wearing cornrows also “prevents constant manipulation of your hair and keeps your hair detangled,” she adds.

Quick history lesson: Although they’ve been seen everywhere from the red carpet to everyday wear, cornrows date back thousands (yup, thousands!) of years to Africa in 3000 B.C. “The intricacies of styles depicted what tribe someone belonged to while also displaying creative and festive energy,” says Fuentes. Cornrows are still worn today in West Africa, Ethiopia, Eritrea, and Sudan where the styles differ between areas and tell unique stories and details about the wearer.

Ready to try cornrows for yourself? While they may take a little time to perfect, with care they can look fresh for weeks. “If braids are done with your natural hair, I would recommend [leaving them in] no more than two weeks,” says Fuentes. If extensions are fed into your natural hair, she suggests up to four. Continue reading for 30 amazing cornrow styles—from jumbo cornrows to braided buns—that you’ll want to wear on repeat.

[xhudgenssistersconfessions]

okay i’m with y'all about the lack of diversity in V’s looks esp bec her red carpet looks used to all be SOOO diverse like one day she’d be boho with a fringe and the next slicked gel and the next wonderlusty look with braids like it was the BEST rollercoaster. also her hair in a bun with a curled bang in front sooo good - like the first oscars and that hsm 2 red dress premiere look.

but how are we sleeping on the SILVER AFTER PARTY MET LOOK? it was sooooo good. the skirt was almost like a bedazzled beach sarong - soo good. and the pix with the hotel luggage cart and the leather jacket etc - SLAY. i did rly appreciate the flowers in the front of her first met like a tribute to the chanel roses - so good.

but yes deffo i feel like in gen i’m excited for a red carpet look which is NOT just a slick back sharp makeup vibe - looking for smth softer just for a change. she slays everything tho so no complaints here tbf but i’m with y'all - need some colour and a lil change.