#gold metal cocktail table

[turnerlandin]

Transitional Family Room - Enclosed Family room library - mid-sized transitional enclosed medium tone wood floor family room library idea with white walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[daefics]

Library - Family Room Example of a mid-sized transitional enclosed medium tone wood floor family room library design with white walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[smoke-under-skin]

Open Dallas Inspiration for a large transitional open concept medium tone wood floor family room remodel with beige walls

[pinkydevil16]

Tangerine x reader: Peach 

Tangerine and Lemon sat across from the son, Peach next to him as she pushed his hair from his face until Tangerine slapped her hand making her pout and sit back.

"Stop touching his fucking hair." Tangerine snapped, Lemon rolling his eyes as he lightly kicked his brother, Tangerine glaring at him as he took off his suit jacket. Watching Peach as she followed suit shrugging off her blazer, matching Tangerine with a white button down and tight waist coat which didn't button over her chest and emphasised her curves. A pair of black jeans fitting her legs and combat boots, both rolling up their sleeves, Tangerine's rings gold whilst Peach wore all silver chunky rings. Her favourite which she'd also gotten Tangerine one in gold, 'fuck you' on the ring in raised metal so when you punched someone it left a little note for whoever found them, something Tangerine had laughed loudly at and pulled Peach into his side. 

"You two need to quit it." Lemon said, Tangerine looking at Peach as she tied up her hair in a ponytail, his eyes on her neck and chest, the button down open and showing her cleavage as always. 

"Peach is the one being a fucking weirdo touching him up." Tangerine crossed his arms, his eyes running over Peach as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, her breasts pushing upwards making his eyes drop as she smirked and snapped her fingers in his face.

"You're a fucking perv Tang, think you're just jealous i'm not sorting out that birds nest on your head. Or your weird porno stache." Tangerine glared at her, pushing her hand away as she laughed and winked at Lemon, who was already getting out his stickers and comparing both of them to the characters making Tangerine's anger go through the roof and begin arguing with his twin. Peach sighing and rolling her eyes until she heard a groan, turning with a smirk to see the son waking up, leaning against the table to turn to him, his eyes adjusting as he looked at the three.

"Ahh the fuck up is awake." The son looked between them until he turned to Peach with a smile, his eyes running over her body before groaning at how fucked he felt, Peach pushing his hair out his face as Tangerine kicked her making her yelp and look at him with a glare. 

"Where am i? Who are you?" Tangerine rolled his eyes, Peach now sat in her chair normally and playing with her nails ignoring the three men.

"You're on a bullet train, on the way to kyoto station to be handed off to your daddy. That's Lemon, i'm Tangerine and that's Peach." Peach smiled at the son as he looked between them.

"Like the fruit." Tangerine's face made Peach giggle as she adjusting in her seat and ran her foot along his leg to stop the odd face he pulled.

"Mhm, now you just need to be a good boy and sit here can you do that for us?" Peach's voice was like honey as the son nodded captured in her sweetness, her smile cute before she pat his head and moved to stand, all three of them watching her as she adjusted her waistcoat and pushed her boobs up.

"Where do you think you're fucking going!" Tangerine seethed as he watched her hands cup her boobs, making them pop out some more, Peach bending over, holding the back of his seat and the table to look at him with a smirk.

"I'm gonna go check on the case Tang, why want to come with me to make sure no one looks at my peachy ass?" Tangerine scowled as Peach laughed and ruffled his hair, fixing it as she walked off, the case still hidden as she walked past towards the bar wanting a cocktail. Tangerine glared at the son, who had been staring at Peach's ass as she walked off before letting out a chuckle and looking out the window.

"Peachy." The son said, his accent heavy as Tangerine held himself back from smashing his head through the window and chucking him out the train, Lemon still talking about Thomas as Peach made her way back, placing a pink cocktail down in front of herself as she dropped next to the son. Her chest bouncing as she shuffled, leaning forward and taking a sip through the straw with a moan, eyes closed before sitting back. Opening her eyes to see Tangerine staring at her, his knuckles white from making a fist, Peach leaning forward to flick them.

"You need to work on your anger Tang, you'll end up with wrinkles." Peach smirked, taking another sip as Tangerine looked away from her, standing up angrily and storming off.

"Peach." Lemon began to scold her, although he enjoyed their little back and forth he knew how much his brother loved her and didn't like others looking at what he had decided was his. 

"Don't be a spoil sport Lemon, it's fun." Lemon stared at her for a moment before taking a sip of the cocktail, wincing as he pushed it back to her, looking towards the son before glaring at him.

"Stop looking at her bruv. Also why is that pure alcohol?" Peach smirked playing with the straw before taking another sip with a loud sigh and sitting back, crossing her legs and arms with a little shrug, the son now staring back out the window. Tangerine strutted back, dropping into his seat with a glare at Peach, who simply grinned at him and ran her foot along his calf again with a teasing glint to her eyes. Tangerine was trying his best to stay professional, but Peach always made it hard, not even on purpose, he'd fallen for her years ago and it never went away. Seeing the wanker of a son looking at Peach constantly, how she had no idea what she did to half the men on the train when she walked by, what she did to him, it was all a joke to her, nothing serious but to him it was like she'd punched him in the throat. Watching her twirl one of her rings before looking up at him and giving him a genuine smile, one that made his insides melt and all the irritation slip away until Lemon elbowed him. Tangerine hadn't noticed his phone buzzing, quickly standing but Peach followed him, Lemon being left with the son, Tangerine answering the phone as Peach leaned against his arm to listen. Flicking her forehead as she glared at him and rubbed the spot he'd flicked, Peach listening intently as the white death's henchman went on and on about where to drop him blah blah blah, the same stuff they'd been going on and on about since they'd gotten the job. It was just infuriating now so Tangerine tried to keep his cool, he didn't need his hand to get cut off for swearing at the idiot on the phone. Hanging up he started swearing, Peach leaning against the opposing wall as she thought, nodding along to his anger.

"Why do they feel the need to check in so much? What a bunch of dicks." Tangerine agreed before putting his phone back in his pocket and running a hand through his hair irritated, Peach moving forward to slap his hand as she fixed his hair.

"Fuckers tellin' us how to do the fuckin' job like we're 4 fuckin' years old." Peach let a smile crack as she finished fixing his hair, his hands now on her hips and not letting her move away until she lightly tapped his chest.

"Think of the money Tang, we can finally go to bora bora and see that topless beach." Peach gave him a cheeky grin, the three of them had always joked bora bora would be their retirement, live next to a topless beach and spend their days tanned and drunk but everytime they got close the thrill of money and murder drew them back. Tangerine smirked, pulling her closer so her chest laid against his, his hands coming to splay out against her back before raising an eyebrow and pressing against her middle back, up and down, side to side.

"No bra Peach?" Peach chuckled and shook her head, pulling back as his eyes dropped to her covered chest, how her tits sat in the waitcoat and shirt, mind going crazy at the thought of how her nipples were probably grazing against the harsh cotton, his thoughts only broken by her voice.

"Perv. Come on or Lemon will tease us." Tangerine kept her close, tapping his ringed fingers on her back as she tried to move away, raising an eyebrow as she waited for him to let go. Once again tapping his chest but Tangerine wouldn't let go, huffing Peach pushed his chest only to be pulled closer.

"When we get off this train i'm taking you out, no more bullshit." Peach's cheeks went pink, nodding as Tangerine placed a kiss on her cheek and pulled away walking back to find Lemon freaking out where he'd stashed the case. 

"What the fuck is fucking going on here?" Peach's eyes were wide as she began searching with Lemon, Tangerine confused until Lemon told him what was wrong, Peach wincing as Tangerine shouted loudly.

"FUCK! You fucking idiots why would you leave it out here? Fuck, we need to find the fucking case. Lemon stay with the prick, Peach go up i'll go down." Lemon walked back to their seats, Peach walking past him with a small pat on his shoulder in sympathy as Tangerine stormed off the other end. Peach's phone rang as Lemon panicked on the end of the line, wiping the blood from the son's eyes as he waited for her to pick up, not giving her a second before he rattled off what had happened followed by Peach swearing.

"Fuck man, we're fucked, we have nothing! I like my hands they're great hands!" Lemon rolled his eyes and saw Tangerine begin walking back towards him as he told Peach to come back. Tangerine sitting down annoyed and then swearing as he looked at the son, throwing some glasses on him to hide the death as Peach slid in next to him, Lemon sat next to the son. 

"So we're totally fucked? You guys wanna go out in an orgy or guns blazin?" Peach joked, dropping her head onto the table as Tangerine rolled his eyes answering the phone as he lied his ass off to the white death's henchmen. 

"Fuck it, we'll get the case and find the fucker who killed this wanker." Y/n nodded, running a comforting hand along his thigh as Lemon and Tangerine stared at each other thinking of a plan. 

So this has been in my notes for ages so i'm just fonna post it, it's not finished so i am sorry 

[beewolfwrites]

Can we have a part 2 to “Clingy” with Niragi and Chishiya?😍🙈

Clingy - Part 2

AO3 request: could I request a OS as a part two to 'clingy' where y/n has started to be much more clingy with other people now their relationship is over and Niragi/Chishiya can't do anything to fix it but watch their ex bitterly regretting their words. Maybe a scene where y/n is purposely over affectionate even more than ever before to make them jealous as a 'look what you missed out on' type revenge.

Both Chishiya x fem s/o and Niragi x fem s/o. There are two different oneshots, so you don't have to read the Niragi one if you don't like.

TW: in the Chishiya-shot, it's implied that Niragi might have spiked a drink.

On with the show! Enjoy :)

_________________________________________________

Chishiya

Nine words. 

“Executive Chishiya Shuntarou is not a fan of PDA.”

Who knew that nine words written on a napkin would be enough to destroy a relationship? It was all fun and games, until that very napkin actually did end up with Hatter’s signature at the bottom. And Aguni’s. And Mira’s. And Kuzuryuu’s. It was a prank taken too far. 

And when I had been invited into Hatter’s presidential suite on executive business, only to discover the napkin encased in a gold frame on his bedside table, enough was enough. 

Even I had my limits. 

She should have been heartbroken, curled up in her room like a kicked puppy. Yet here she was, prancing around the pool and flaunting her freedom in my face. The night was still young and the party was raging as usual - a chaotic mess of drugs, debauchery and homemade cocktails. I was sitting with Kuina at a table, idly listening as she prattled on about how amazing An looked with her new sunglasses. I sipped a glass of water, focusing my eyes on the party, the pool, anything but her. Only, that voice. I could still hear it.   

‘Am I allowed to touch your rifle?’ 

‘Oh, you can do more than just touch it.’ 

I could just hear Niragi’s sneer, and from the corner of my eye, I knew that he was gauging my reaction as he ran a finger along her bare shoulder. I tried not to look. But all I could see was her exposed skin and that stupid metal smile of his. And her, blithely oblivious to the situation she had fallen into. 

‘Here,’ Niragi said. ‘For you, babydoll.’ 

He offered her a strong cocktail - one of the bar’s special concoctions. And of course, the idiot took it. Her pettiness would be her downfall. Her eyes flashed to mine as she took a sip, smiling against the glass. She knew exactly what she was doing.

‘This is so boring!’ Kuina exclaimed, bringing my attention back to the table. She was sulking, using a straw to stir her Pina Colada. ‘We’re supposed to be hanging out and all you’re doing is staring at your ex.’ 

‘I’m not.’ 

‘Do you think I’m that stupid?’ 

‘At times.’ 

Pain flared in my shoulder as she pinched the skin. I clasped a hand over it, wary that anyone could have seen. ‘Kuina, that really wasn’t necessary.’ 

‘You’re kidding me, right?’ She scoffed, taking a sip of her Pina Colada and pointing the straw at the couple across the courtyard. ‘You need to get your ass in gear. Niragi’s over there stealing your girl, and you’re doing nothing about it.’ 

‘She can do whatever she wants. We’re not together.’ 

‘But she’s just trying to make you jealous!’ 

‘Like I said, she can do what she wants.’ I noticed Niragi’s hand slide around her exposed waist, feeling her smooth skin, his fingers inching north. ‘But as for him…’ 

Without thinking, I stood up and strolled across the courtyard. Niragi grinned when he saw me approaching and pulled her body closer. She blinked, sipping her cocktail innocently, even when Niragi stroked a thumb over her skin. 

I ignored it, meeting his smile. ‘Niragi. Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you supposed to be on duty?’ 

He snickered. ‘Pretty sure I’m not. Nice try though.’

‘Hmm…’ I nodded slowly, knowing perfectly well that he was, in fact, supposed to be counting the armoury supplies with his team. ‘So you’re fine with me fetching Aguni to double check?’ 

Niragi’s eyes narrowed, his smile dropping. There was a squeak of pain as his grip tightened around her, dragging her even closer. Her ruse had dropped, and I could see the discomfort in her expression, grimacing as she gripped her drink with both hands. 

‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I believe I see Aguni just inside. Let’s ask—’ 

‘Forget it,’ Niragi cut in, releasing her and slinging his rifle back onto his shoulder. ‘This party is fucking stupid anyway.’ 

He stormed off inside, leaving the two of us alone in the midst of the party. She was gripping her glass, staring into the cocktail to avoid looking me in the eye. I took it from her grasp. 

‘Hey! That’s mine!’ She tried to pull at my arm as I held the glass up to the neon strobe lights, searching for any sign of fogginess or bubbles. 

‘What’s in this?’ I asked. 

‘Alcohol.’ 

‘I see. What kind?’ 

She pursed her lips. ‘Probably vodka. Maybe rum. It’s all the same to me.’ 

‘And to Niragi, you’re the same as any of these other women.’ Setting down the glass on a table, I gestured to the drunken crowd shaking their hips out of sync with the music. ‘There could be anything in this.’ 

She turned away, her face sinking. Then under her breath, she muttered, ‘Like you even care. At least Niragi would let me touch him.’  

Niragi would happily use his rifle to force her to touch him, but I didn’t tell her this. Instead, I shoved my hands into my pockets, knowing that the outcome was inevitable. She had me in checkmate, and there was only one way this conversation would end.

‘I’ll let you hold my hand, but only if it’s hidden inside my pocket,’ I said. ‘You’re not touching my hair.’ 

Her head slowly perked up as she realised what I had just said. ‘Okay.. I can do that. But what about kisses?’ 

With her standing there, eyes glistening with hope and fingers clasped in front of her lips as if in prayer, it was so easy, so predictable. And when she looked at me like that, how could I refuse?

I sighed, allowing myself a small smile. ‘We’ll see…’

Niragi

That fucking smile of hers. It drove me wild. It made me want to crawl the walls and punch through glass. And she knew it. Oh she did. 

Ever since that incident, my reputation had never been the same. Half of the Beach thought I was some furry freak with a fetish for bunny ears. It took a week of flashing my rifle at anyone who dared to snicker for the rumours to die down. 

And now that she had chewed up my reputation, tarnished my name, chewed me up and spat me out, she still wasn’t finished with me. No, instead she was sucking up to Aguni at every turn. In the games we played as a team, she hid behind his form, batting her eyelashes and calling him “Aguni-Sama”, worshipping him like he was a fucking god or something. 

She should have been worshipping me.  

And here we were again, shooting predators in the middle of a theme park to clear what should have been a simple Five of Spades. All the while, I’m trying to aim at a hyena but all I can see is her hands gripping his bicep. Obviously Aguni doesn’t give a damn what she’s doing, but she’s got that smile again. She’s smiling because she knows that I’m watching. 

I wait until the game is over and we’re back at the Beach before cornering her right as she’s heading down the hallway to her room. As she rounds a bend, I grab her wrist, dragging her into me. As expected, she gasps and tries to yank her hand free. 

‘What do you want?’ She hisses. ‘You’ve gone from clingy boyfriend to clingy ex.’ 

‘That’s rich,’ I sneered. ‘You’re the one who can’t keep your hands off Aguni.’

Her lips curled into a self-satisfied smile. ‘Haven’t you seen his muscles? The man’s built like a demigod.’ 

I took a step forward, pulling her closer to me until I could feel every breath she took. ‘Yeah, but can he kiss you like I can.’

She tilted her head up, her voice low. ‘He can do more than that.’ 

‘I bet he can’t make you scream.’ 

‘He doesn’t make me scream in anger, if that’s what you mean.’ 

‘I think we both know that’s not what I mean.’

By now, I was so close I could see every fleck of colour in her eyes… smell the sweetness of her hair and skin. It was agony, having to resist closing that small distance between her lips and mine. She trailed a single finger along the lining of my shirt, tracing the contours of my torso and leaving a trail of tingles in its wake. I suppressed a shudder, fighting the urge to rip that finger away.

‘Hmm…’ she breathed. ‘I guess you’ll have to show me then.’ 

And since she asked so nicely, I did just that. 

Needless to say, as we crashed into my hotel room, bodies inseparable until the end, it was no longer Aguni she was worshipping. 

[lxmiko]

luxiem as random things . . .

—

(continuation of the title) . . . they remind miko of

TO BE HONEST, i just needed a space to ramble and what better place to do it than tumblr as a “fanfic” (it’s more like just a bunch of random thoughts)

the bullet points are not written in a certain order!! so don’t be surprised when at one point you’re reading fluff and then the next you’re reading angst D:

enjoy!

character(s): all luxiem members

—

vox akuma

folding the corner of a page to bookmark

sitting in a movie theater by yourself

putting out a lighter with your bare hand

play fighting with puppies and when they bite you playfully

the sound of heels clacking on the ground

motorcycles and cigarettes

incense that smells sickly sweet and makes you dizzy

cheating by playing cracked games but still somehow losing

—

mysta rias

when your hair tie leaves a mark on your wrist cause it’s too tight

leather chokers

colored sunglasses

putting on eyeliner in the bathroom at the location of a gathering a few minutes before it starts

nails tapping on desks

cramming into a photobooth to take photos with your friends

convenience stores in movies where the cashier’s always extremely annoyed, thinks you’re stupid, and chews bubblegum

—

luca kaneshiro

roses and gunpowder

gold chunky jewelry

late night car rides with music blasting and potential injuries by the end of the night

untied shoelaces you tell yourself you’ll tie later

hairties that are hanging on for life

movie marathons of childhood movies and falling asleep on the couch during it all

not knowing how much of your forehead to show when putting on a beanie

—

ike eveland

rings of water left after you lift a cold drink from a table

warmly lit libraries

cupping hot drinks with both of your hands and blowing on them

lipstick dabbed away on napkins

long fuzzy socks

iredescent flowy fabric under the sun

the feeling of tears drying on your cheeks from the breeze while on a rooftop

—

shu yamino

fluffy blankets

when you get under a blanket as you’re about to sleep and it’s cool to the touch instead of warm

the color grey

the cool feeling of metal touching your skin

when a cat leans into your touch

your partner waking up and surprising a very sick you in bed with a sandwich and juice made fancy with one of those cocktail umbrellas cause they can’t cook

playing childhood games on sketchy websites because the original webs were too old and taken down or were sketchier

[possugard-the-possum-wizard]

* As I walk in I’m immediately hypnotized by the glamorous atmosphere. A small metal automaton hands me a drink and I let out an internal squeal. I had always known that automatons could be mixed with magic but seeing in action was breathtaking! As I looked down at my glass I saw how intricate it was.

When I stepped in to the hall I froze as I heard the booming voice announcer robot*

Welcome Possugard the Possum wizard!

*did they have to make it so loud? I nearly jumped out of my skin! Once the shock subsided I realized just how fancy this place was. Everything was gold plated, from the couches to the tables.

The tables! The lavish decorations had almost distracted me from my goal. Fancy party means free fancy food and I was planning on grabbing enough finger sandwiches, deviled eggs, cocktail wieners, and orderverse to feed me and my possums till the end of the year. I had enough money to get food but my possums have been absolute angels so they deserve a treat. If I had to get a rash from this plastic lined suit to do it then so be it!

Let the snack heist begin. *

[mlmxreader]

Nightclubs and Cherries | Corinthian x trans!m!reader

Anonymous asked: May I request a Corinthian x trans male!reader fic where the reader's friends dare him to flirt with that one hot blond guy at a bar/club/whatever? Obviously the Corinthian flirts back (whore) and the reader is sort of surprised someone like that is actually interested in him.

let me sneak some prompts in here as well: "If you want, I could teach you" and "This can’t be real"

Thanks babe <333

summary: there's a guy at the nightclub who is exactly your type, and when your friends pressure you into chatting him up, you might just be a little thankful for the peer pressure.

tws: alcohol consumption, brief mentions of transphobia (also non-explicit), swearing

Finding nightclubs where people like you were accepted and safe was difficult these days, given the rise in right wing bigoted bullshit and the fact that the leader of the country wanted nothing more than to see trans people dead, it was difficult to find nightclubs where you could actually let loose and feel safe; but there was one, your friends had found it whilst out shopping one day, that was exactly that. It wasn't anything fancy really, just a boat docked at the water's edge that would occasionally have some really fucking good bands playing, especially metal ones, but it functioned entirely as a nightclub; adorning the black walls were trans flags and nonbinary flags and you lost count of the others by the time you got to the bar. Behind it, a lady so beautiful you almost thought she was a painting come to life, smiled and tilted her head.

"Hiya, handsome," she greeted, her voice warm and soft like the pitter patter of rain against the window on a sunny day. "What can I get you?"

You turned to your friends who crowded around a table, trying to remember the entire order. "Can I get uh, a Stoli on the rocks, a Doom Bar, a Stone Sour and uhm a Red Bull vodka, please?"

"Sure thing," she nodded, writing it all down on a little notepad before rushing around to get everything for you and your friends; they just had to have different drinks, idiots. Different drinks always made things take longer and more difficult than usual.

But as you were waiting, one of them came up to you, putting his arm around you and murmuring in your ear. "At your six, there's a guy who is exactly your type."

You stole a quick look, but then shook your head. "C'mon, Erich, you know I don't... no."

"We were all just talking," Erich continued, "me, Reese and Al, and we dare you to go chat him up. Even just for a laugh, c'mon."

You bit at the inside of your cheek, blood rushing through your veins so harshly that you could hear it. But you sighed, and you nodded. "Fine. Fine, let me get my drink, and I'll head over, alright?"

The guy really was your type, though, he really was and you couldn't deny it; blonde, tall, charming smile, wearing a grey long sleeved shirt and black trousers, a gold chain around his neck, dark sunglasses. He really was just your type, and when you eventually headed over with your drink in your hand, you couldn't help but to feel a little bit nervous. But then, you did know you were safe if he didn't take kindly to you trying to chat him up; the bartenders had a little fake cocktail to order if anyone did try and act like a cunt and be transphobic towards you.

"Uh, hi," you cleared your throat, gesturing to the seat beside him. "Is, uh, is this taken?"

"No, but there's a better one right here," he purred, tapping his thigh. Fuck. An American accent. The type that had a drawl and a soft country twang to it. "You can sit here if you want, handsome. I don't bite unless you ask me to."

Your eyes went a little wide, not sure how to accept that he had immediately flirted with you, but as you settled down on his lap, you couldn't help but to laugh softly. "What's a good looking guy like you doing in a place like this?"

"I could say the same about you," he looked you up and down, nodding slowly as he dared to let out a quiet hum from the back of his throat.

"We don't get a lot of yanks round here," you told him with a soft chuckle. "Maybe I should show you around a little."

"You could," he hummed. "If you told me your name."

"It's (y/n)," you replied, damn near grinning, "and you are?"

"Corinthian," he smiled back. "Y'know (y/n)'s a good name for a good looking guy like yourself... but I kinda wanna know what mine would sound like when you moan it."

Your eyes went wide and you nearly choked on your drink, hardly able to believe that any of this was happening, that a guy who was exactly your type in all the right ways was fucking flirting with you; you shook your head, daring to laugh a little. "This can't be real."

"Oh, it is," Corinthian mused. "What? Don't tell me, people really don't flirt with you that often?"

You shook your head, swallowing thickly. "No, usually if they know I'm a trans guy, they kinda... y'know."

"Well, they're not shit," he told you, a soft growl behind his voice, like he was somehow angry that such vile cunts existed. "You're a handsome, good looking, guy, (y/n)... I'd be more happy to take you home with me tonight, if you want."

You nodded, a little more eagerly than you had hoped as you did want to play it somewhat cool; but then he grabbed a bowl of cherries from the table, grabbing one and putting it in his mouth, but he only needed one attempt before he stuck his tongue out and showed you the knotted stem. Fuck. Okay, that was hot.

"You're so fucking hot," you breathed out. "How'd you do that?"

"Well, if you want, I could teach you," he shrugged. "We can go back to my place and I can give you a few lessons."

"Let me tell my friends where I'm going first," you told him. "I'll, uhm, I'll meet you outside, okay?"

"Take your time, good looking."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Mask and Tripping Feet (Sunshine oneshot)

Summary: The most anticipated event of the year; The Masquerade Ball finally came around; Y/n always loved this time of the year and she is determined to make memories tonight with her best friend Sunshine

Prompt: Dancing together

Request Board

Workshop

The Church's sermon room had been constructed from its usual look to give room to the most anticipated event held every year. Its contemporary blend of sleek design and luxurious decor mixed in with the old history of the church itself with its floor-to-ceiling windows offer breathtaking views of the surrounding Abbey grounds, while candles strung up in the ceiling cast a warm glow over the space. The walls are adorned with old art, and round tables decorated with cloth and table decor provide comfortable seating for the Siblings surrounding the large open space for dancing; the stage which the Papas had used for sermons was decorated also with a band hired for this event played under low spotlit people music that filled the large open space.

Tonight, the Papas host this amazing masquerade party, and the atmosphere is vibrant and electric. The Siblings arrive in beautiful gowns and trendy attire, their masks reflecting the latest fashion trends. The musicians play a mix of upbeat and melodic tunes, creating an energetic ambiance.

At the center of the room, a subdued-lit dance floor warm glow of natural colors, beckoning people to let loose and dance the night away with their partners and friends. Illuminated cocktail tables offer an array of creative drinks, each with a touch of artistry to the side next to the buffet table prepared and decorated for this very night.

Among the crowd of siblings, Y/n could be found mingling with her friends, a charismatic and confident individual wearing a sleek black dress and a mask adorned with sparkles, adding a majestic flare to her designed dress. Y/n exudes charm and magnetism as she engages in conversation with different siblings seemingly having a blast already; but her eyes are wandering, seemingly seeking someone in the crowds with eagerness.

As the party progresses, Y/n's eyes catch sight of the person she had been looking for this entire time, a striking woman in a dazzling gold dress that shimmers like sundust. Her mask is an exquisite combination of metallic and holographic elements, adding an otherworldly allure to her appearance that she already portrayed with her energy as Sunshine, one of Papa's ghouls, and one of Y/n's best friends stood off to the side talking with Cumulus and Cirrus; each wearing such as equally stunning gowns as their packmate.

With excitement, Y/n excuses herself and approaches Sunshine, drawn to her captivating presence and with anticipation of spending time with her; maybe Y/n can get her to dance with the ghoulette just like they used to do in their downtime, or better yet...teach her friend how to Waltz. Y/n had wondered before if Sunshine's over bound energy could be focused enough to do something like that.

Y/n leaned over her friend's shoulder; hands resting on her arms to give them a squeeze of greetings. "You look dazzling tonight Sunny!" the girl smiled brightly at her friend when she turned around,

Sunshine laughed giving Y/n a proper hug filled with warmth at seeing her friend. "I could say the same to you! Look at you! You look amazing tonight, Y/n!"

The sister grinned. "I'm glad you think so! I saved up a lot of money for this dress." she laughed.

"You bought it?" Cumulus gaped making Y/n flush a bit and fiddle with the dress.

"Yeah...I know a lot of people just rent dresses from shops but i really fell in love with this one; I was going to make my own but uh..I didn't have time." she chuckled sheepishly.

"Wow! Well it's money worth spent then!" Cirrus replied with a warm smile before waving around the room. "Have you found anyone to dance with yet?" she added.

"Oh, actually..." Y/n slanted a look at Sunshine. "I was waiting for Sunshine. I wanted to dance with her first." the girl replied.

"Me?" Sunshine's eyes widened behind her mask. "Why would you want that? I mean, I love to dance but this party isn't appropriate for my style of dancing." she laughed.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh I know, I figured I'd drag you to the dance floor and teach you how to waltz." she replied with a cheeky smile on her face.

The other two ghoulettes looked at each other. "Have fun, we're going to go find the guys and see if we can't get one of them to dance with us." Cumulus snickered at the thought at the pair left in search of their packmates.

"So, you want to?" Y/n turned to her friend with a nudge to her side.

"Are you serious though?" Sunshine glanced at the dance floor.

"Positive! Come on it'll be fun!" Y/n promised as she grabbed her friend's hand and dragged her over to the dance floor and got into position.

"I don't know where to put my hands." Sunshine admitted glancing around at the others nearby dancing. "Am I supposed to be the guy here or the girl part?" she asked.

Y/n chuckled and grabbed her hands. "You can be the girl part; it's easier and I'll guide you okay? No need to be nervous!" Y/n replied as she placed Sunshine's hand on her shoulder before taking hold of the other in one hand and resting her own hand on the ghoulette's waist.

"Now, just follow my lead. One step back," Y/n said softly as she shifted one foot towards the other encouraging her own foot to step back. "Good! Now to the side." Y/n expertly side stepped before taking a step back.

"It's just like your walking in a square! See, one step forward, side step to the side, one step back, step to the other side and repeat...there you go your getting the hang of it!" Y/n encouraged as she guided her friend through the steps.

Sunshine wouldn't stop looking down at their feet as Y/n guided her around the room to the waltz song playing classically in the back.

"Chin up, you don't need your eyes to dance with your feet." Y/n laughed softly as she nudged Sunshine's chin back up so they were facing each other again.

"I feel silly! I'm not used to dancing like this-" Sunshine overstepped and her foot landed onto Y/n's toes making both of them wince. "Shoot Y/N/N I'm sorry!"

Recovering quickly the sibling shook it off and guided her back into the rhythm. "All good. Don't worry about it, trust me I'm used to it. It's to be expected." she replied before letting her go and giving her a little spin before drawing her back into her causing Sunshine to laugh a bit.

"People are staring!" she hissed softly glancing at the other dancers who were glancing at them.

"So? Let them! since when do you get all shy on me? It's just your best friend." Y/n shrugged with a slight smirk of mirth playing at her lips.

"Because...we're both girls?" Sunshine offered glancing away from Y/n's face.

"That doesn't matter and you know it. We've been in much worse situations that people question our sanity." Y/n reassured as she playfully dipped Sunshine making her squeal in surprise and clutch onto her best friend's arms.

"Omg woman give me a warning next time!" they laughed as they continued to dance.

Before long, the song ended and they left the dance floor in favor of getting some drinks. "Well, you had the entire ballroom staring at the pair of yah!" Swiss grinned as he walked over with Cirrus on his arm.

"Oh hush, it wasn't all that big of a deal!" Y/n waved him off before smiling up at them; catching sight of Mountain and Cumulus dancing to a different slow dance song on the dancefloor.

"So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?" Cirrus added catching Y/n's gaze.

"Which is?" she raised a brow.

"Cumulus and Mountain are mates but they don't actually know that yet; thick-brained that Mountain is you'd think Cumulus would have spelled it out for him already. She's just a little nervous you know?" Sunshine nudged her friend.

"Aw, that's so sweet!" Y/n gushed clapping. "I mean, it couldn't be worse than Dewdrop and Rain's situation," she added thoughtfully.

"Oh, it could be. Mates are difficult to deal with sometimes so." Swiss shook his head.

"Well, I don't know about you but after this party; I say we spell it out for them both and get it over with." Sunshine added.

"Not until I have another dance!" Y/n pointed to her with narrowed eyes.

Sunshine blushed and looked away. "Deal. I suppose the first one wasn't half bad..." she bit her lip.

"I'm going to go get us a drink before then though! If I can get Aether away from the sweets long enough to do so; poor man's blocking my drink table." Y/n chortled looking over at Aether who was indeed blocking the tables with his darted from one table to the next as he tried everything he possibly could on the table; unknowingly blocking some other siblings who were trying to get stuff from the tables.

As Y/n left Swiss and Cirrus shuffled over to Sunshine and lowered their voice as they watched their friend leave. "So when are you going to tell her Sunny?" Cirrus asked softly as she wrapped an arm around her friend.

"That you like her!" the older ghoulette murmured.

"and that you may be mates too." Swiss added causing Sunshine's cheeks to heat up under her mask.

"Because Y/n's my best friend...I don't want to ruin anything." she murmured watching wistfully as her friend chatted up Aether; expertly guiding him to make room for others while they spoke and joked about something.

"She'd make a good mate, you know. She's worked with us for so long she knows us better than Papa." Swiss mused glancing down at the younger ghoulette.

"I know...But I'm afraid that she'll reject me or that if I tell her it'll ruin what we have."

"That's the point cupcake!" Cirrus gave her a squeeze. "Being mated to another goes beyond friendship. It's something special and unbreakable. Knowing our Y/n, she wouldn't just run away from you because of that. You're her best friend and you'll always be her number one even after you make her your mate officially." Cirrus encouraged before letting the other go and grabbing Swiss' arm.

"Just think about it. Swiss, come on. I want to go dance again!" the woman dragged him away to the dance floor leaving Sunshine alone.

The ghoulette watched her best friend from across the room; watching as her bright smile lit up her face as she made her way back over to her and her heart clenched. She'd tell Y/n the truth. She just had to wait for the right moment; but until then. She'd make her happy with one more dance.

Auth. So sorry it's a bit short! I hope you still like it!

[lupismaris]

The Opening Act of Spring- a Black Sails Fic. Chapter 3

The Ranger’s have a castle above the clouds, the delta bayou’s favorite undead son hasn’t changed much despite appearances, and we meet the patriarch of The Walrus- one of the beloved queer bars in west Brooklyn- Hal Gates. 

The condo The Rangers shared on West End ave was high up in a shiny new building, overlooking the Hudson river and the west skyline of Manhattan. Silver wasn’t surprised that his sister had opted for a sleek home with floor to ceiling windows and polished wood floors, she had always day dreamed about a place above the clouds, untouchable like the men and women they conned for eating money. And now, as he and Anne stepped out of the private elevator, it seemed as if her dreams of that life, to a point, had come true. Of course the life time of suffering and blood that had gone into it could hardly been denied, but as with all things Max did, no one would know it. Grace and Elegance masked all, by careful design.

Silver whistled at the well lit space, kicking off his shoes at the door. Sunlight was starting to spill into the open concept living and dining room. The lime washed walls were decorated with elegant pieces of art, contemporary and colorful to contrast the neutral tones of the condo itself, the furniture mid-century modern with its rich honey toned wood and brass metal accents. House plants and vases of flowers, well loved and flourishing, were tucked into every sensible corner and open surface, bringing life into an otherwise sterile home, one that Silver would have expected to see in a high end magazine review.

“She’ll be in the studio, through there,” Anne said, nodding to a room past the kitchen. She handed over the bouquet of Irises. “Give these to her. I’m gonna make sure Chaz is up for work.”

“Sure, thanks, by the way-”

She waved it off and disappeared down the dim hallway.

“Right. Good talk.”

The studio had, as expected, the best lighting in the whole condo. It was a corner unit and the studio sat right at the corner, able to scrape together whatever sunlight available at whatever time of day. Silver had to guess that Max’s bedroom was graced with either the next best natural light, or the best light fixture money could buy to mimic it. The room was filled with various dress forms and metal figures, each draped in different fabrics that would, in time, become cocktail dresses and gowns. Two work benches were littered with supplies, pages of sketches and two sewing machines, boxes of sexing tools, pens and pencils and drafting tools, shelves covered in bolts of lush fabrics in jewel tones and soft neutrals. All that was what Silver expected to find, the heart and soul of his sister’s enterprise laid bare.

But over by the windows, where Max was seated, stood an easel and canvas, with several half finished canvases of varying sizes leaning against the glass awaiting their turn. A small table attended to Max’s right, carrying a tray of oil pastels and a cloth for her hands, a pair of chamois for blending, and her morning cappuccino long forgotten, its foam clinging to the sides of the porcelain bowl.

His sister had always wanted to take up the finer arts, or so she had told him, but their lives had never allowed them the time. Too much running, too many lies, too many masks, and whats more, gutter rats like them had more important things to worry about than the delicate curve of a shadow on the page or how to blend charcoal, didn’t they?

Silver stood there silently for a few moments, watching as Max blended the soft peach of sunlight into the clouds she was attempting to capture, the view from her window shifting ever so slightly so that her canvas was a perfect dream of the Morning sky. Her dark curls, coiled more tightly than his own, were tied up high on her head with a silk scarf, the rich green and gold of it reminding Silver of laurels, a perfect contrast to her darker skin.

Of them all, Max’s laurels were most deserved.

“No one likes a ghost in the doorway, mon cher,” she said over her shoulder, taking up a robin’s egg blue pastel.

“I’d disagree but I’d hate to ruin so lovely a morning-”

Her laughter was as sharp as a jaybird��s call, joyful and just a little mocking. “Oh you’re exhausting. Come on then, you’re already half an hour late as it is you cad.” 

Silver felt himself smile, his first honest smile since landing at JFK, and let himself enter the room properly. Max set down her pastels and wiped her hands, twisting on the stool to face him. Her lounge set, knit leggings and loose tank top of bone white, looked soft and well loved. She wore no make up, the only colour on her cheeks the stray smear of blue pastel along her cheek bone from a misplaced finger, and the only jewelry Silver could see was the delicate gold bracelet he had given her years before after their first big score.

And a simple gold diamond ring on her left ring finger.

“Well now when did that happen?” Silver asked with some astonishment. He’d expected a phone call if not a photo if Anne had finally popped the question after years and years of domestic bliss.

“It hasn’t, it’s a place holder,” Max said, though the soft blush in her cheeks meant it still meant the world. “She grew tired of people presuming things, had me pick out something classic until we could custom order something better. You know I wouldn’t choose a diamond for the final product.”

“No you had always been partial to pearls or emeralds, I remember that.” Silver kissed her temple and passed over the irises. “These are from her by the way.”

“Thought as much, you never bring me flowers.”

“No I bring you shiny things worth stupid amounts of money and leave the romantic gestures to your beau.”

Max rolled her eyes and got up to find a vase for the flowers, leaving Silver to poke around the studio like a curious stray cat. “I imagine those gifts are still at your hotel, since you look like shit and Anne said she found you drunk in a bathtub this morning?”

“Mmm it wasn’t my best wake up call I’ll give her that.”

“You don’t drink, mon Cher, I take it Jack’s plan didn’t go as well as he hoped?”

It was a question, but Silver felt the rhetorical tone even with his back turned.

“Did you suggest it to him or did he think it up all on his own like a big kid?”

“Now now don’t be too cross, it could have been worse.”

“How exactly? With Flint gutting me in public? Strangling me in an elevator? Tossing me off a balcony? Or do you have a more romantic kind of murder in mind?” Silver asked dryly, dropping onto the vintage loveseat by the windows.

Max set the vase of Irises on the closest work station and turned to face him with a sigh. “Are you finished feeling sorry for yourself? Or would you like to wallow in self pity for a few more minutes?”

“Few more couldn’t hurt.”

“You’ve had more than enough time I think and I don’t want to hear it.”

Silver pushed his sunglasses up onto his hair and blinked and the sun filled room. “As you wish. I’m just saying it was a dick move. And I’m a little surprised at you, shacking up with Flint after all this. When you were the one who knew before we all did that it was worth it in the end.”

Max crossed her arms and leaned back against the workstation, taking in Silver’s haggard face, bloodshot and shadowed eyes. “More than just a drink then hm?”

“Oh I’m sorry if it was Ellie would you have done better?”

It was cruel and he knew it. His sister’s eyes hardened for a moment as she considered him.

“Yes. Because I did the work you haven’t.”

Silver sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she said after a moment, “You abandoned us. You had the opportunity to stay and have a real chance at something better and you walked away, so what I choose to do in my business ventures is none of your concern, Silver. You gave up that right.”

“Then why ask me here?”

“You abandoning us does not mean we have chosen to abandon you.”

It took effort not to look up as she crossed the room, coming to sit on the love seat next to him.

“Even if you’d rather we did,” She added.

“That- that’s not-” He sighed, turning to her and shaking his head. “I don’t wish that, you know I don’t.”

Max smiled at him and reached up to tuck a few stray curls behind his ear. She said nothing, just let his empty lie hang lifeless in the space between them for a moment, before asking about his flight in from Istanbul.

He had never been able to lie to her, and she had never been able to lie to him, not in any way that had mattered. Little white lies and surprise parties were possible, sure, but when it mattered? Eventually it would unravel, the fibers fraying and thinning as they tried to spin them, faster and faster until they were left empty handed and shamefaced. The only lie that stood was, in a sense, a shared truth- that neither of them had existed before their meeting, that their lives had begun the moment they had met in the back room of a dusty and dirty whore house in some city they pretended to forget the name of. Before that there had been nothing. That was the only lie they would permit.

And maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was better that Max knew Silver was lying when he said he didn’t want to be forgotten, abandoned to his self made misery while she and her lovers built new beautiful lives for themselves in castles on clouds. Because otherwise he’d have to admit it out loud, admit that he wanted to play the martyr and be left to the consequences of his mistakes.

That he didn’t think he deserved a second chance.

Some people didn’t deserve to be saved, right? Didn’t deserve to prove themselves bettered? Maybe, just maybe, he was one of them and the best thing he could do was let that be the case. Especially if it meant he didn’t have to acknowledge that he had in fact made the mistakes in the first place.

But he’d never win that argument with Max, not if she had it in her head that, for whatever reason, he was meant to be a part of their bizarre new lives.

Did he resent her, and the others, a little, for said beautiful new life? Despite it being everything they had bled for all those years? Yes.

Did it make sense? No not even remotely.

He found himself chewing over the thought all afternoon as they had an early lunch, the other Rangers joining them in the dining room. Rackham tried to be a gentleman and offer Silver his one punch to the stomach over drinks-gone-ary, but Silver refused him with a tired laugh.

“Let’s keep a running tally for now,” he said, letting Rackham pull him into a hug. “I’m sure you’ll earn another soon enough. Besides, I think both of us have had our nerves shaken enough over the last twenty four hours-”

Rackham laughed and kissed his cheek as he let him go. “Haven’t we just. There is nothing quite as terrifying as that man stalking you across a room. I thought I’d forgotten that fear but no, no, it has been thoroughly reintroduced to my nightmares after yesterday.”

It had never left Silver’s dreams, the way it felt to have Flint watch him from across the room, move with him, appear suddenly at his side like a phantom.

“You try bein’ in a fuckin kitchen wit’m,” Vane said over his shoulder, his rumbling voice raised slightly to be heard over the rhythmic thud of the knife against the cutting board. “One moment you’re alone gettin’ mise set no body but christ to talk to n’the next he’s there raining hellfire down. If he didn’t announce himself he’d get gutted for scaring a man.”

Rackham sat at the breakfast bar so he could watch Vane cook, “That’s a trait you share darling.”

“Doesn’t mean I gotta like it on him now do I?” Vane asked, feeding Rackham a slice of radish with salted butter.

Silver fought the urge to roll his eyes. They’d become bizarrely domestic and exhausting in their retirement, Rackham smitten in his expensive lounge wear and Vane wearing an apron with his name embroidered on it, putting the finishing touches on a cheese board and salad while the spanakopita finished baking.

It would have been gross, in the way it was for you to see your best friend mack on their new beaus. That is, if Silver wasn’t ultimately struggling with the concept of Vane as a kept house husband who fixed lunch for his roommates and only had a job to keep him out of trouble and wore, of all things, embroidered aprons.

Silver could distinctly remember the day he learned that Vane had removed another man’s head for pissing him off, after all. He had seen the aftermath alongside Max, her ex and the rest of the Guthrie smugglers. It wasn’t something you easily forgot.

Rackham had done the truly impossible. He’d take the wild thing and domesticated it, just enough to fool to world into thinking it had always been so. Silver made a note to never question his capacity for sex, romance, or sheer power of will ever again.

If nothing else, the embroidered apron was going to take a lot of getting used to.

He said as much later that afternoon, relishing the loud burst of laughter that rang out in reply.

“If Jackie hadn’a spent two days makin’ the damn thing-” Vane shook his head, his long hair tossing as he did. “Shoo ain’t catchin me wearin’ another that’s for damn sure. Jackie made it, understand?”

Another park, this time across the bridge, with a stunning view of the river, the sparkling glass and metal skyline of Gotham across the way. Silver had followed Vane to Brooklyn once lunch had finished, Max and Rackham off to a busy afternoon of fittings and model interviews for the summer look book, Anne joining them as she often did. So Vane had found Silver a spare helmet and pulled his vintage Harley out of the private garage, slipping the valet a few bills on their way out of the back entrance in a way that felt very routine, and they made their way to Brooklyn, slicing through traffic.

Silver watched the various pedestrians pass them by, the two of them seated comfortably on an ornate promenade bench, Vane’s bike parked a few feet away on the curb. “Still, considering you used to pitch such a fit about things like that? I distinctly remember you giving Flint so much shit whenever he told you to wear a shirt. Or say please.”

Vane snorted, all sharp teeth as he smiled in amusement. “Mmm but it is fun fuckin with that old queen innit? He cared far too much about respectability when it didn’t right matter n’he knew it, but it made him feel better to scold about it anyhow. Sense of control when it was all falling apart.” He shrugged. “Just cause Jackie get’s me playing nice doesn’t mean I believe it. Just means I believe it enough for his sake, you know? Makes him happy, makes him smile, so I believe in it enough to bring bout that result and keep one foot toeing the line should Jackie forget they don’t play fair. Means, end.”

There was that all encompassing “They” again, alongside a shadow that Silver thought he recognized, of the man who’d burned off his own finger prints at 13, who never quite understood Flint’s need for decorum, but seemed perfectly at home with Silver’s deeply rooted fear of commitment.

“And the means of working for Flint?” he asked when Vane didn’t continue.

“Mmm.”

There was a pause then, as Vane watched the clouds slowly roll in over head. A small, ghost of a smile played on his lips, as if he’d remembered some little joke that Silver wasn’t party to.

“Why I get the feeling you been asking this question all day?” he asked in turn, rolling his head over to look at Silver. “It’s eatin’ you up real bad innit, us tolerating each other again?”

Silver looked away with a sigh. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Shoo, does anything about any of this? Johnny we stole the world out from under those fuckers and what’d I get in turn?”

On the expressway below the promenade, a truck’s exhaust backfired. Smoke, the smell of burning oil filled the air for a moment as the clouds continued to shift over head, memories taking shape in the altered light as Vane continued.

He hadn’t been there, the day Charles Vane had died. It hadn’t been long after he’d lost his leg and despite a clean amputation and proper antibiotics, his lack of rest had lead to an infection. Silver had been laid up in a safe house for three weeks, during which Vane had been captured on a raid.

“A noose,” Vane continued, “A coffin. If it had gone any different, if a fucker had been a smidge less upset that  afternoon-” he laughed again, a darker, older sound and dropped his head back to look up at the clouds. Silver could see clearly the scar the rope had left, resting where his adams apple should have been, faded slightly with the years but haunting them all the same.

In the small courtyard of Rogers’ largest factory town to fall, Charles Vane had been strung up like the animal the world had thought him to be. Silver had learned later that some small speech had been made, the warden being kind enough, or stupid enough, to give Vane parting words. Whatever was said had been the last bit of fuel for the fire. In the riot that followed, his body went missing.

Silver had never been brave enough to ask him how, whether it had been sheer dumb luck or all part of a grander plan. Something told him that Vane would just level him with that tired, oddly wise look, and just smile, before changing the subject entirely.

“You and Flint tried to kill each other. More than once,” Silver reminded him, trying to change the subject. “Couldn’t agree on anything-”

“Who says that’s changed?” Vane shrugged, getting to his feet and stretching his arms high above his head, cut sleeves of his work tshirt riding up to show the faint edge of old scars long the underside of his pecs. “Said it before, Say it again- ain’t no body making that queen into a trophy but me.”

“Yeah but-”

“’Sides, something healthy bout that if you askin me. We different men, sure, he may be soft, but only I know just how so. Certain kinda intimacy you only get with a man you decide to be the end of, one way or another. Wouldn’ you agree?” Vane’s smile was teasing as he pulled out a cigar from his bag and fished around for his lighter. Silver pulled out his and waved for him to lean in.

Vane did so and held still, lips pulling at the cigar while Sliver lit it, smoke curling around his tanned face. “Thats a kind of love ain’t nothin’ gonna replace. Not comfort, not peace, not gold. Not even sex.”

Their eyes met as Vane pulled back, Silver feeling pinned under a gaze not for the first time that day. It was all he could do to stare back at the gray eyes that shifted behind cigar smoke.

“You used to want comfort, now I think bout it,” he continued, “easy comfort even. Mmm. Now you lookin more like me every day, Johnny. It’s a lean look on you. Pity we never wanted to be the end of each other. Otherwise, I think we’ a been interestin, you and me. Guess I gotta leave that to the old queen.”

Vane patted Silver’s cheek when he didn’t reply and moved around the bench towards his bike. It was time to head to the bar and for Silver to disappear back to Manhattan. That was the safest thing to do.

“Vane.”

“Mm.”

“You’d tell me if he wasn’t retired.”

Vane straddled the bike and puffed at the cigar for a moment. Silver didn’t look back at him.

“If he was out of retirement, I’d be out of retirement. Game’s not fun without that fucker in it.”

That might have been the truest statement he’d heard in the last 24 hours. Silver sighed and nodded, letting his head hang and his body sag into the bench a bit. He listened as Vane kickstarted the old bike, the engine revving to life.

“Make sure ya get home before the sky opens. Don’ want them findin’ ya in the gutter-” came Vane’s shouted goodbye before the roar of the bike echoed away down the street and Silver was again left with the settled ambient sounds of the promenade and the dark clouds building overhead.

*

The patriarch of the Walrus sat in the alley when Vane’s bike pulled up, where he could almost always be found before the happy hour rush began, his heavy form settled comfortably into the old bar chair they kept propped up against the wall. Hal Gates looked up with an unimpressed look, tired eyes peering over the reading glasses that sat on the tip of his nose to read the now forgotten copy of the week’s Brooklyn Daily Eagle that sat on his knee.  

“Bout fuckin’ time you got here,” he said flatly as he watched Vane park his bike with a laugh.

“Shoo I got five minutes n change, can’t fault me for that-” Vane paused to pull out his lighter, which had been in his front picket the whole time, and relight the cigar.

“You know damn well that’s not what I’m talking about you shit. You want to tell me whats got him in a fit this time?”

“Why should I know, boss?” Vane flashed him a sharp smile and climbed off the bike, grabbing his bag from the saddle box.

Gates sighed and pushed himself to his feet, tucking the newspaper under his arm. Vane had a couple inches on him sure, the cocksure attitude that drove some people to the edge, but Gates didn’t need to posture when he closed the space between them. Two steps across the alley and he hummed in tired amusement as Vane watched him expectantly.  

“Because,” Gates said simply, reaching up to take the cigar out of Vane’s mouth, “He’s looking for you.”

With a sharp smile of his own, Gates helped himself to the cigar and returned to his chair. Before Vane could make his no doubt clever remark, or at least follow up on the cigar stealing, the back door to the kitchen flew open.

“Ah, there he is, on cue-” Gates murmured, puffing at the cigar and going back to his paper.

“Now wait a goddamn-” Vane tried to say, as Flint came out of the open door like a wolf from a cage, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. The momentum of his movement had them stumbling backwards, Vane pushing back against him, the two of them half wrestling on their feet.

“Where the fuck is he?” Flint snarled. “Where- So help me Vane I will break your fucking jaw where is he-”

“Fuck is that gonna do- break my jaw ya cunt how is that gonna-”

“I know you’re a part of this Rackham can’t keep shit to himself-”

“Hey what’d I say about ya goin’ for Jackie-”

“Jackie can go to hell unless you tell me where the fuck he is!”

Flint managed to get his ankle around Vane’s, getting him off balance enough to shove him back against the alley wall. He kept one hand in Vane’s shirt while the other closed around Vane’s throat, threatening but not so tight that he couldn’t get the words out.

“Tell me,” he repeated.

“Get fucked.”

“I will make you talk so fucking help me Vane-”

Vane smiled, all top teeth, and pressed into the hand at his throat. “How ya gonna do that hm?”

Flint didn’t move forward, the way Vane’s goading invited him to. He could feel the slightest pressure of Vane’s hand against his stomach, it acted as a warning. Sure enough when he glanced down, Vane’s trusty old butterfly knife was resting against his shirt, the same empty threat as Flint’s hand around his throat. Vane held his gaze with a lazy, hungry smile that called Flint’s bluff with the satisfied smugness of a card shark. Flint hated him in moments like that, hated him deeply. It would have been so easy to tighten his hand and squeeze, but only if it were anyone else. Vane knew just how to make good use of that butterfly knife.

“If you two are quite finished stroking each other off,” Gates said after a moment, “I have a bar to run and happy hour starts in twenty minutes.”

It took a moment, but with a snarl and a huff, Flint shoved Vane against the wall and stormed back inside without another word, leaving Gates puffing at his cigar and watching Vane toy with his butterfly knife.

“So you want me on bar or-” Vane asked.

“Oh no, he will be on bar. He needs to be on a tight leash tonight and I will be holding it, thank you. You keep your head down and behave yourself on the line please or I’m calling Jackie.” Gates folded his paper and stood again, pushing his reading glasses onto his head and gently stubbing out the cigar to save the rest for later. “Do I even want to know what this is all about?”

“Silver’s back in town.”

Gates blinked, then sighed with a decade’s worth of resignation. “My personal twink from hell. Fantastic.”

He stopped Vane just inside the kitchen. “Don’t tell the boys. Not yet, not with Flint so keyed up about it and all. We don’t need it to be a bigger mess that it clearly already is.”

“Shoo, alrigh’ boss.”

“Go on with you then. I’ve got a hell-hound to keep in line tonight.”

Vane’s laughter followed him through the kitchen. Said hell-hound was braced against the darkest corner of the bar, staring into a glass of dark rum.

“Are we talking about this?” Gates asked.

Flint glared at him from the corner of his eye and knocked back the rum. He poured himself another drink and put the bottle away.

“Alright then. You’re on bar with me and Muldoon-” Gates held up a hand as Flint made to argue. “No. I don’t care. This is how it is, am I clear?”

The alternative was, as it was for every member of staff (Gates included) going home for the evening. If Flint went home he’d spend the night driving himself insane or worse, wandering the city, tapping into contacts and allies, trying to eliminate all place where Silver couldn’t be. If he was at their bar he could at least stay tethered to something that felt like reality, at least for now.

“We can talk it over after close tonight,” Gates added softly, resting a hand on Flint’s back, “Figure out a plan if you like. But you know you can’t be in the kitchen with your head in the past.”

After a pause and a slow deep breath, a bit of tension eased out of Flint’s shoulders.

“Fine.”

Gates rubbed his back for a moment. He grabbed the rum bottle again and topped off Flint’s drink, before pouring himself a matching glass. The bar was mostly empty, one high top occupied by someone with a beer and a book, a booth hosting a late lunch date, one regular nursing his aviation at the end of the bar. They could take a moment just the two of them.

“We’ll figure it out, Jamie,” Gates told him, knocking the glasses together. Flint nodded weakly and said nothing, taking up his glass, tapping it gently against the bar top, and downing it with ease.

Across the street, watching the foot traffic and cars pass the brick street front of the Walrus with its custom neon sign and myriad pride flags catching the growing winds, sat a busker. He was a familiar sight on the block, playing his bass guitar under the scaffolded walkway to whatever audience would stop to listen. As the sky opened up and people hid under the scaffolding, his audience grew for a time.

Amongst them, a young man with a camera who was as interested in the bar across the way as he was in the busker’s performance. Silver had to admit he was grateful for the cover, between it and the storm, not a soul from The Walrus, patron or crew, noticed him.

Yes it was risky, even with one of his casual get ups on (you’d be surprised how often people ignored trucker caps and hoodies), and no it wasn’t like he thought Vane or the others were lying.

He just needed to see it for himself, needed to see Flint’s retirement happily ever after with his own eyes for it to seem real. Or so he had thought.

Seeing it in that moment, seeing Flint slip out front for a moment and stand under the awning to have a smoke, his attention fixed wholly on the storm clouds overhead-

It didn’t help. It just sent him running back to Manhattan with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

[birdnamedenza]

Noodles and Nausea

@sicktember

Prompt: Nausea/Upset Stomach

The six friends are back from vacation! It's so much fun to write about them and for some reason, Ezra is my favorite victim. This story is inspired by a tumblr post from @sick-queen about how horrible it must be to feel sick in a restaurant. I just couldn't resist. Since technically all of my stories fit the nausea/upset stomach trope, I tried to put some extra love into this one.

TW: Nausea, vomiting

When Ketan enthused about career advancement opportunities, it was usually a lot of hot air and very little substance. So none of his friends had believed him when he had claimed that this very evening would change their lives. Huge plot twist – the full-time dreamer wasn’t exaggerating this time. Somehow (by selling his unborn first son to the devil, probably) he had managed to arrange a fancy dinner with TikTok sensation Stella Stellini. In one of the finest Italian restaurants of the city. It was the ultimate win-win situation.

The boys had dusted off their suits while the girls had chosen a theme of precious metals for their cocktail dresses – gold for Zena, silver for Cassandra and rose gold for Natalia. Everyone was looking and probably feeling their best; only for Ezra, the latter wasn’t quite true. Something was off ever since he had been putting on his dark blue suit and a matching tie. The tight sensation around his neck, the belt pushing against his stomach, the warmth of his jacket over the light blue button-up shirt… it was overall uncomfortable. Several workmates from his part-time job at a gym had called in sick, so it was very well possible Ezra had caught something from them. However, his unease was not on a stay-at-home illness level yet. Definitely not a reason to miss out on the most important night of their social media careers.

The restaurant alone was a feast for the eyes. The walls and chairs were made from dark mahogany, contrasted by light beige tablecloths. Wooden panels with intricate gold ornaments adorned the ceiling. A myriad of ethereal noveau art lamps dimly lit the room.

„Seriously, guys – it needs an invite from Stella to take us here and you wonder why none of us wants to date you?“ Natalia strut into the place like she owned it. Her sparkly long dress had a slit that revealed one of her endless legs.

„It’s more like none of us is enough of a masochist to date you.“ Ezra hadn’t forgiven Natalia that she was holding the record for their most clicked vacation video with a shot of him watering their patio flowers with his stomach contents during the crustacean calamity.

„Pro tip, Ez: Keep that mouth shut. You’re pretty until you speak.“

„Hey – no bickering today“, Ketan admonished. „We have to make a good impression if we want this collaboration.“

„Darling, I have more market partners than all of you beta males combined.“ Natalia elegantly placed herself at the reserved table. „I know how to sell.“

„That’s because your true personality doesn’t show on camera“, Calvin snarled. „Seriously, you can learn a lot from Stella. She’s smokin‘, she’s classy and she has sick moves.“

„Hello, have you seen her make up tutorials?“, Cassandra chimed in.

„Uhm, yeah, that’s not my specialty.“ Calvin shrugged his shoulders, then seated himself. A waiter in formal uniform brought the menus.

The room was air-conditioned, but Ezra seemed to be surrounded by his own aura of humid heat. He shifted on his chair, trying to find a position where his stomach wouldn’t feel as tight. A nagging queasiness sat in the back of his throat like a foreign matter. To distract himself from his body’s inconveniences, Ezra flipped through the menu.

Fluke crudo with sturgeon caviar, crème fraiche and meyer lemon… no way. Anything from the ocean was off-limits for an indefinite amount of time. Rabbit ravioli with ragusano pesto and lavender… sounded like a combination of stinky feet and old lady soap to him. Pan-seared duck breast with chicken liver mousse and potato terrine… pictures of thick, fatty duck skin came to mind and the thought of liver’s grainy texture and iron-like taste were enough to make Ezra gag discretely into his hand.

It was a relieve when Stella finally arrived, ten minutes late. She wore one of her signature red dresses that perfectly showed off her hourglass figure with its tight fit and an asymmetrical cutout strap. With her impossibly long raven black hair and her sultry cat eyes, she caught everyone’s attention within seconds. She effortlessly floated in on her six inch heels, her face lighting up as she arrived at the table. For a moment, it wasn’t the nausea that made Ezra’s cheeks flush with heat.

„It is so nice to meet you guys“, Stella greeted and sat down on her chair like a queen on the throne. „I’ve been following you for a while and your whole group dynamic thing is incredible. It’s like Jersey Shore, but unedited.“

„I hope that’s a compliment“, Ketan laughed and gave her a welcoming hug. „No, honestly, I appreciate it so much. It’s an honor for us to spend time with you.“

„Stop it, I’m not a celebrity. My videos have only taken off in the last three months and it’s still kind of unreal.“

„You have any right to be proud.“ Ezra decided to take his chance while he was still somewhat able to follow the conversation. The constant chatter from the other tables and the diffuse lighting messed with his brain. „We all thought our boy Ketan was joking when he told us about being able to actually meet you.“

„No, really, I want to work on my YouTube numbers and y‘all have been pretty consistent there.“ All of a sudden, Stella’s smile changed from professionally enticing to genuinely excited. „Wait, you’re ‚Shirtless Hunk Puking On Orchids‘!“

„Uhm… yeah… I guess that’s me.“ Ezra forced a crooked smile and brushed back his shoulder-length hair. „Not necessarily what I wanted to be most famous for, but here we are.“

„Are you serious? That video was hot as hell!“

„It was? Well… if so, I only regret not having it on my own channel.“ Ezra ignored the death glare Natalia shot at him.

„I must admit, I did a great job with the angle“, she said with an innocent smile and an icy voice. „Now let’s take a look at the menu, shall we? I haven’t eaten all day and I’m starving.“

„You chose not to eat because you were paranoid about looking bloated in your dress“, Calvin grinned, then flinched as Natalia kicked him under the table.

„I already love you guys“, Stella Stellini chuckled.

-

Even though the menu was rather small, everyone took forever to study it like a scientific paper. For Ezra, looking at the meal descriptions steadily became a challenge, especially while the others discussed the options in lyrical detail.

„Home-made fettuccine with a rich gorgonzola walnut sauce sounds divine“, Keton sighed.

„Absolutely, but I like my cheese stinky.“ Stella licked her deep red lips. „Right now I got my eyes on the fig salad with taleggio. Brind-washed rind means great aroma.“

„I’m so gonna order the sepia pasta with crustacean ragout and white wine“, Natalia declared with a sadistic smirk.

„I hate you.“ Cassandra pouted her lips.

Ezra pretended to wipe his mouth to muffle a burp. His swirling stomach produced a bubbling growl. Zena gave him a dig with her elbow.

„You’re always the hungriest one. Hang in there, we’ll make up our minds soon.“

„Can’t wait“, he smiled back as casually as possible while rubbing his bloated belly. Trying to block out the cacophony of talk and laughter that filled the restaurant, he focused on finding the meal that triggered his nausea the least. He reluctlantly settled on tagliatelle with porcini mushrooms.

The waiter took their orders, then recommended wine according to their choices. Alcohol was the least thing Ezra wanted to put into his system right now, but refusing it would have drawn unwanted attention to his predicament. The others were chatting and joking to pass the time until their food arrived. Ezra did his best to smile or frown at appropriate moments. It became harder and harder to focus on anything else but his stirred up insides. And while he mostly stayed silent, his stomach certainly didn’t. It was embarrassing and he hoped the babble of voices would drown out the angry gargling.

„You okay?“, Zena whispered after a while. She had probably noticed he barely took part in the conversation, which definitely wasn’t normal for him. „Feeling dizzy or something? I get it, I could barely eat anything all day because I was so hyped up.“

„Wait, you can get nervous?“ Talking was decidedly more difficult since Ezra‘s production of saliva had increased significantly. His throat was bobbing with a constant effort to swallow it.

„You’re such a dumbass.“ Zena picked up her wine glass in a way that gave him the middle finger. „Here’s to us!“

The glasses produced a shrill ring as they met, piercing his ears. Even though every fiber of his body resisted, Ezra took a small sip from his Pinot Noir. It was dry and acidic and confused his tastebuds with a variety of berry notes. Something he would have enjoyed under different circumstances, but right now it was repulsive enough to immediately return with a hiccup, bringing some bile as company. Ezra gulped down the sour liquid and camouflaged it as an approving nod.

Finally, two waiters brought the first plates. Every meal was beautifully arranged and the portions were rather small. Ezra regained hope that he would be able to force everything down and survive the night without accidents. If his dinner refused to stay inside, he could still get rid of it secretly in the restroom later. No one had to notice.

If only there hadn’t been such a variety of intense smells transpiring from every single plate. There was the pungent odor of cheese, different spices with a hint of booze and, oh God, there was the fishy and briny aroma of the seafood ragout. Ezra’s stomach churned like a washing machine. He felt sweat forming on his back, causing his shirt to unpleasently cling to his skin.

Everyone raised their glasses and toasted, their words distorted by a buzzing in Ezra’s ears. While his friends reveled in their first bites, he reluctantly twisted some noodles with his fork. It caused a disgustingly wet slurp. With a slightly trembling hand, Ezra brought up the miniscule amount of food to his lips, gathered his courage and shoved it in. The creamy sauce coated his tongue, filling his mouth with an earthy and nutty flavor, intensified by a hint of garlic. Ezra chewed and chewed until the saliva threatened to overflow, then forced himself to swallow down the mash. He needed a few moments to catch his breath before he repeated the unpleasant procedure.

Ezra could feel every single bite sloshing around in his boiling stomach. The mushrooms had a weird slippery texture and released an explosion of taste and moisture when he bit into them. Ezra muted another wet belch with his napkin and stiffened his body to prevent it from hitching. His plate wasn’t even half finished and he already felt like he was about to puke up everything he had just eaten. Which was definitely not an option. He was sitting in a crowded noble restaurant, surrounded by his friends and one of the hottest women he had ever seen. The only way to salvage the situation was to wait for his stomach to settle enough for an emergency trip to the restroom.

With his lips shut tight, Ezra focused on breathing through his nose. It only enhanced the scents he was surrounded with. At this point, the worst offender wasn’t even Natalia’s spiteful shellfish, but Stella’s cheese. It exuded a powerful odor of sweaty socks and three days old vomit. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. Ezra saw her impale a fig with slightly melted taleggio on top. The yellowy white lump was squished as the fork pushed into it, looking like a large piece of congealed pus.

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Ezra’s stomach convulsed and forcefully ejected hot liquid. It rushed up his throat so fast that he knew there was no way he could hold it in. For lack of a better plan, he formed a makeshift bowl with both hands and filled it with a surge of dirty brown soup spilling out of his mouth.

All of a sudden, there was complete silence. Everyone at his table (and quite a few people on the neighboring ones) stared at him, wide-eyed, completely flabbergasted. Slimy strings of vomit began to seep through Ezra’s shaking fingers, dripping onto his plate.

„Oh. My. God.“ Ketan was the first one to talk, but still seemed unable to move. The eye-witnesses were paralyzed by the horrifying scene that played out right in front of them. It was the most humiliating thing Ezra had ever gone through in his entire life. Completely at a loss at what to do, he felt panic rising inside of his chest. Only that it wasn’t just panic, but also more of his stomach contents that were determined to evacuate as quickly as possible. Ezra lurched forward and expelled a fountain of puke all over the table. Muddy fluid and the undigested remains of his unfortunate meal splattered on the tablecloth, the more or less emptied plates, the wineglasses and candles.

His friends frantically pushed back their seats. Natalia, Ketan and Zena also used the momentum to jump up. Zena began to pat Ezra’s back while he choked up strands of noodles that were still pretty much intact.

„Kill me“, Natalia said with a deadpan expression.

„We should… probably get him over a toilet?“, Calvin suggested without moving an inch. He was clearly in over his head. At this point, a very pale waitress arrived at the place of crime, offering her help.

„It’s okay. I’ll handle it“, Zena declared and put an arm around Ezra’s waist. She picked up a napkin and held it over his mouth, even though it was obvious that the small rectangle of cloth wouldn’t be able to prevent the dam from breaking. Somehow, she managed to support his shaking body and steer him in the direction of the restrooms.

Walking was an arduous task. It only increased the nausea and stirred up Ezra‘s twisting guts even more. He knew perfectly well that there wasn’t much time until the next wave, but moving too fast could have easily triggered it in the first place. Disgusted and indignant stares were shot at him from all corners of the room. Ezra moaned as his stomach muscles contracted again. He tried to hold back a retch, but couldn’t.

„Breathe through your nose, Ez“, Zena coached him and moved on. „I know you can do this.“

Ezra wasn’t so sure himself. He felt thick fluid pushing up his esophagus, causing him to gag into the fabric. His cheeks bulged, but Zena kept pressing against his lips. Just a small trickle arched over the napkin and fell on the burgundy carpet that led to the restrooms.

This was probably the moment when Zena gave up hope they could make it to the toilets. She switched to the next best thing and dragged Ezra to one of the sinks where he desperately held on to the smooth surface. As soon as Zena removed the napkin, Ezra released a flood of light brown mush into the basin. It splashed against the expensive marble, clogging the drain with bits of undigested pasta and porcini. Zena held back his blond hair while he forcefully emptied himself.

Being face to face with his own puke, watching chunks slide down the sides of the sink, was enough to make Ezra heave again.

„Easy, easy there“, Zena soothed. „Just let it happen, you’re gonna be okay.“

She rubbed his back to help him burp up another stream of porridge-like gruel that heavily plopped into the puddle of sick. Ezra coughed and panted, spitting out lumps and strings until the bout was finally over.

„Fuck, I’m so sorry“, he muttered while catching his breath.

„No, babe, it’s alright.“ Zena wet a paper towel to wipe the vomit stains from his 3-day stubble. Then she lead him to the neighboring sink to wash his sticky hands and do some cleaning on his suit. „Why didn’t you tell us you felt sick?“

„I thought I could do this“, Ezra replied, unable to look her in the eye. „I didn’t want to mess things up for us. Now I did.“

„Who cares? You’re more important than this collab.“

„Pretty much anyone but you would disagree, but thanks.“ Ezra gave his friend a faint smile.

„Nah, they love you, they just sometimes can’t show so well.“ She used the towel to get rid of the tacky fluid that had been caught in his front hair. „Think you got it all up?“

„I guess I’m done for now. Can we escape through the back door?“ Ezra didn’t want to set foot in the dining room ever again. He was mortified and thoroughly ashamed.

„Hey, I’m right by your side. Anyone who gives you a dirty look has to deal with me.“ She grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the main hall. Ezra’s cheeks flushed as he saw two waiters with masks and gloves cleaning up the mess he had spewed all over their table. The surrounding area had been evacuated as well.

„Are you okay, mister?“, a young waitress asked. „Shall we call an ambulance?“

„No, I’m better. I… I am so very sorry, I don’t even know how to apologize.“ Ezra wanted to vanish into the ground.

„It’s fine, I hope it wasn’t the food. Just take good care of yourself.“

„Thank you so much“, Zena smiled, then cleared her throat. „By the way, you… might want to check the restrooms, I’m afraid we caused an issue with one of the sinks.“

„Oh, oh no, I mean, thanks“, the waitress stuttered, then rushed away to inspect the new disaster site. Ezra and Zena used the opportunity to flee the scene. Their friends were waiting outside, apparently in the middle of a heated debate. Stella Stellini was nowhere to be seen. Ezra squeezed his eyes shut, hesitating to approach them, but Zena left him no choice.

„Well, look who’s back.“ Of course, it had to be Natalia who noticed them first. „Thank you for the most embarrassing moment of my life. It was just the nicest place ever, I’m glad I won‘t be able to eat here again.“

„Give him a break!“, Zena immediately stepped in. „How do you think Ezra feels? He didn’t do it on purpose, you know.“

„Yeah, but he should have told us that he was feeling pukey.“ Cassandra put her hands on her hips. „Barfing all over our food was not a cool move.“

„I know“, Ezra mumbled. „I was a jerk and I’m sorry I’ve ruined this opportunity for us.“

„What do you mean?“ Ketan got right in front of him, placing both hands on his shoulders. He broke into a very big grin. „You didn’t ruin anything. Stella absolutely loved it! She can’t wait to collab with us.“

„Wait… what?“ Ezra was thoroughly confused. Maybe his foggy brain caused him to hallucinate.

„Yeah. She told me I should have filmed it.“ Natalia shook her head. „Don’t get me wrong, she’s gorg, but the girl got issues.“

„Who cares, your weak stomach got us the deal“, Calvin smiled and clapped Ezra on the back. „By the way, how’re you holding up, mate?“

„I think I can make it home.“ Ezra still felt nauseous and his stomach kept on rumbling, but he wasn’t on the verge of throwing up anymore.

„I’m tagging along“, Zena announced. „There’s no way I’m gonna leave you alone like this.“

„We’re looking for another place to celebrate“, Natalia declared without any sign of compassion. „One that’s not a norovirus quarantine zone.“

„Are you sure it’s okay to leave you two guys behind?“, Calvin asked. He did have a bad conscience, it was written all over his face.

„Yeah, don’t worry“, Zena nodded. „I’m getting the hang of this. No assistance needed.“

And while their friends headed towards hours of fun and drinks and dancing, Zena guided Ezra home safely. She helped him out of his suit into a tank top and boxers because he was covered in sweat at this point. When Ezra decided to spend the rest of the night hanging over the toilet, Zena got him a pillow to kneel on and rubbed his back through countless rounds of vomiting and dry heaving. She spoke to him. She sang to him. She gave him small sips of water and held his head when he couldn’t keep them down.

Morning dawned when Ezra finally fell asleep, his head resting on the arm he had placed on the toilet seat. Zena covered his hunched body with a light blanket, then curled up into a ball on the carpet. Still looking like a golden goddess from head to toe, she dozed off within seconds.

[melis-writes]

Carlito praising his girl when she’s feeling insecure ❤️‍🔥😭

Bringing in the Carlito prompts, I see!! 🥵 Ugh, I honestly see him as so affectionate and warm towards his girl, wanting all of her and nothing but her no matter how she looks. He’s only got eyes for her. 🥺🥰

“Eighty thousand, baby. Eighty thousand in one night.” Carlito’s fingers skim over the thick stack of hundred-dollar bills in his hands. “You’d never think a place like this would do you any good.”

“Still want to get out?” You blush, sipping your cosmopolitan cocktail as you watch Carlito counting his cash.

“Just physically, baby. Physically.” Carlito lets out a soft sigh, wrapping a rubber band around the cash. “Being stuffed up in clubs like this isn’t exactly my kind of ‘fun’.”

“You’re telling me.” You nibble on the corner of your lip, leaning towards the windows of Carlito’s office to peek through the blinds and see the packed crowds wildly dancing to blaring music just outside.

“And for you, baby.” Carlito whistles, grabbing your attention before tossing a stack of cash to you.

“For me?” Your eyes widen as you grab the stack midair, “Jesus, Carlito. How much is in here?”

“Ten thousand.” Carlito smiles at you, adding the rest of his money back into his safe. “I gotta treat my woman right, don’t I?”

“Please, baby.” You blush furiously, still shocked at the large amount in your hands as you set it down on the coffee table before you cautiously. “I’m gonna be clutching my purse to my chest until we get out of here. This is tooooo much.”

“Out?” Carlito carefully locks up his safe, ignoring your comment about the amount being too much as he knows his mind can’t be swayed when it comes to unconditionally spoiling you. “You wanna go home already? We just got here, baby.”

“I don’t know…” The sense of insecurity you’ve been feeling since earlier tonight begins to double within the knot of emotions in your gut. “I just don’t feel too good—not here, at least.”

“Somethin’ happen, baby?” A look of sternness crosses Carlito’s expression as he turns to face you. “Some sleaze say something to you? Give you a hard time?”

“The only person giving me a hard time is myself.” You sigh quietly, shaking your head. “Look at me.”

“What?” Carlito rests his hands over his desk. “I’m lookin’ at you, sweetheart. I am,” he gestures to your little black dress.

“I don’t want to go back out there amidst all those people.” You pout, avoiding Carlito’s eyes. “I don’t know—I had all this confidence coming and now it’s just…gone.”

“Gone?” Carlito slowly begins to approach you, loosening his tie over his collar. “You know you’re the sexiest woman here, right?”

“Carlito,” you whine, feeling your cheeks warm with blush again. “It’s okay, really. I’m not looking for any sympathy,  it’s just that my social battery’s dead and I don’t want to go out looking like this—”

“Nothin’ wrong with the way you look, first of all.” Carlito sits on the edge of the loveseat just next to you. “Do I have to repeat myself?” He raises his brows. “All eyes gotta be on you at this point.”

“I don’t want that.” You admit, shyly. “Just yours is enough for me.”

“Baby,” Carlito rests his hand over your thigh—the cool metal of his gold link and chain bracelet pressing into your skin. “I’m all yours anyway, you know that. There ain’t a damn thing wrong with you or the way you look. You’re gorgeous—this dress,” he tugs on the fabric of your dress lightly, “your hair, the makeup you put on tonight, and you’re gonna tell me you don’t like the way you look?”

Your eyes widen a little at Carlito’s reassurance, but your shyness takes ahold of you as you remain quiet.

While you don’t want to annoy your boyfriend with how insecure you’ve been feeling since you got to the club, at the same time you can’t deny yourself how good it feels to be at the centre of Carlito’s attention, giving you affection and reassurance like this.

“You know what their deal is, baby?” Carlito gestures back towards the window with his thumb. “They wanna be you. You don’t think I see the way people look at my girl with those big eyes—checkin’ you out? The girls out there got reasons upon reasons to wanna be you—a woman this fine, this beautiful.” Carlito takes your free hand in his, raising it up to his mouth. “Last thing I wanna do is make my woman uncomfortable. If you wanna go, we can get the hell outta here right now—just you and me, make a night of it back at my place. But I ain’t gonna let you talk down to yourself like that.”

“You’re too good to me, you know that?” You feel a rush of butterflies pulling in your gut as Carlito presses his warm lips against the back of your hand, kissing over it and your knuckles.

“You deserve me,” Carlito reaffirms, “and I deserve you, baby. That’s the way it’s gonna be. And if it’s that dress you got a problem with,” Carlito points to the sexy, plunging V-line cleavage of your dress. “I don’t have any issues takin’ it off myself.”

“Oh, by all means, please do.” You giggle, shaking your head in disbelief as Carlito rises from his seat and gently coaxes you up.  

“C’mon baby,” Carlito doesn’t push you towards doing anything you’ve already expressed you don’t want to do. “Let me get you the hell outta here,” he wraps an arm around your waist, giving your ass a squeeze. “I got a lot more ways of telling you just how beautiful you are when I have the privacy to do so.”

“Mm, can’t refuse that.” You peck a kiss over his lips, nodding. “As long as its just you and me, I don’t care where we go tonight.”

“Ladies choice, as always.” Carlito’s eyes gaze at your lips, tasting your lipstick over his mouth from the kiss. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? Hmm? C’mere, c’mere… Let me have a taste of you."

Squealing as Carlito dips you down dramatically, you can’t help but smile through the deep kiss he plants over your lips.

You clutch one hand onto Carlito’s shoulder and the other tangled in his hair as your eyes flutter shut, reveling in your boyfriend’s affection and feeling your insecurity melt away just at the touch of his hand.

[ofcarnvge]

@highstrxngeness​

Gretchen had never found herself being so drawn off from her usual path. Most of the time, the question of even doing something different never even crossed her mind. Of course, her author sister was always there to fill her pretty head with cathartic daydreams of what she could do if she just divorced (again) her (second) husband, but every one of those lovely stories had been dismissed as just that: cathartic daydreams. Gretchen had rebelled against the life planned for her in her own ways, adopting a hyper-femininity that was even too much for her conservative mother, but straying away too far from what felt like destiny was unthinkable. Until O-Ren. Spending the day getting ready with a full expectation that she and O-Ren would be meeting in the dining hall of the businesswoman’s establishment, Gretchen pulled out a vintage 1960′s Helga cocktail dress, patterned in a muted, metallic, brown leopard print, a gold leaf style brocade woven throughout, and a sweetheart neckline. Accentuated with a pair of muted gold heels, Gretchen finished off her look with fiery red lipstick and her sunset hair pulled up in a classic up-do. As far as she was concerned, Gretchen knew exactly how she would stand out in a crowded restaurant, and approved. Once Gretchen was actually at the restaurant, her bravado seemed to slip with a slight flushing of her freckled cheeks and shoulders upon receiving word that she’d be meeting O-Ren in her own penthouse. Her well-practiced, wind-chime voice seemed to unintentionally slip a notch or two higher in octave as Gretchen politely followed June, trying not make it obvious that she was now nervous by fiddling with her purse too much.

The lights were dim, the temaki had been set out on the dining table in the open plan kitchen. Reluctantly, Sofie had been sent away to sulk in the restaurant downstairs, but Oren knew that wouldn't last - once she got some champagne into her she’d be schmoozing some potential new client.

The doorbell rang through the apartment. Still holding her wineglass O-ren rose from her seat by the coffee table, still clothed in her elegant silk robe and slip, not smudge of makeup to be seen on her face.

She pulled the door open and smiled at the visage on the other side; she had expected it, but it still floored her, not that she gave it away. Gretchen had a way with femininity, it was unique - soft, effulgent...but sharply precise. It was the sharpness that drew O-ren...A sharpness that belied something.

      “Gretchen, it’s lovely to see you again.” She uttered affably. She turned to June, one of the 88s and one of her preferred assistants.

      “Thank you June, do go and look after Sofie downstairs.” 

She took a sip of her wine and let her gaze over...Everything about Gretchen be obvious for just a second as June disappeared down the corridor.

      “Please come in, you have my ear on any business you’d like to discuss.”

[alfabanquet]

Enchanting Living Coral Ideas for Your Wedding: Infuse Vibrancy into Your Special Day | Alfa Banquet

Are you envisioning a wedding that’s both breathtakingly beautiful and on-trend? Look no further than the captivating allure of Living Coral, Pantone’s 2019 Color of the Year. Infusing your special day with this vibrant hue promises an atmosphere of warmth, romance, and modern elegance. And what better venue to bring your vision to life than the prestigious Alfa Banquet Hall, nestled in the heart of Karol Bagh, Delhi? Let’s delve into a world of enchanting possibilities as we explore stunning Living Coral wedding ideas tailored to make your celebration unforgettable.

Invitations that Set the Tone: Start the excitement with Living Coral-themed invitations that reflect the charm of your chosen color palette. Incorporate subtle coral accents, watercolor motifs, or elegant typography to give your guests a glimpse of the splendor awaiting them.

Floral Fantasia: Elevate your floral arrangements with a profusion of blooms in varying shades of coral, peach, and blush. Think lush bouquets of peonies, roses, dahlias, and ranunculus accented with greenery for a natural yet opulent touch. Adorn your venue with cascading floral installations, centerpieces, and aisle décor to create a mesmerizing floral paradise.

Décor Delights: Transform Alfa Banquet Hall into a whimsical wonderland with enchanting décor elements inspired by Living Coral. From table linens and chair covers to napkins and drapery, infuse your reception space with touches of coral for a cohesive and visually striking ambiance. Consider incorporating metallic accents like gold or rose gold to add a touch of glamour and sophistication.

Sensational Tablescapes: Set your tables aglow with dazzling tablescapes that showcase the beauty of Living Coral. Opt for chic coral-hued tableware, glassware, and chargers complemented by gilded flatware and crystal accents. Enhance the romantic atmosphere with flickering candlelight and delicate floral arrangements for an unforgettable dining experience.

Culinary Delights: Treat your guests to a culinary journey that tantalizes the taste buds and delights the senses. Work with Alfa Banquet Hall‘s talented chefs to craft a menu featuring gourmet dishes that showcase seasonal ingredients and innovative flavor combinations. Consider incorporating coral-inspired cocktails and desserts for an extra dash of whimsy.

Fashion Forward: Make a stylish statement with bridal and groom attire that embraces the vibrancy of Living Coral. Brides can opt for ethereal gowns adorned with delicate coral embellishments or opt for bridesmaid dresses in varying shades of coral for a cohesive bridal party look. Grooms and groomsmen can complement the theme with coral-hued ties, pocket squares, or boutonnieres.

Entertainment Extravaganza: Keep the festivities going with entertainment that captivates and delights your guests. Whether you opt for live music, a DJ, or a mesmerizing dance performance, ensure that the entertainment reflects the energy and spirit of your celebration. Consider incorporating interactive elements like photo booths or themed games to keep guests engaged and entertained throughout the event.

Memorable Favors: Send your guests home with thoughtful keepsakes that commemorate your special day. From personalized trinkets and edible treats to potted succulents or seed packets, choose favors that reflect your love story and the essence of Living Coral.

Capture the Magic: Preserve the memories of your magical day with stunning photographs and videos that capture every precious moment. Work with a professional photographer and videographer who understand your vision and can immortalize the beauty and emotion of your celebration for years to come.

Incorporating Living Coral into your wedding at Alfa Banquet Hall, Karol Bagh, Delhi, offers endless opportunities for creativity and expression. Whether you’re planning an intimate affair or a grand extravaganza, let the allure of this captivating hue infuse your celebration with warmth, romance, and modern elegance. With meticulous planning, attention to detail, and the expertise of Alfa Banquet Hall’s seasoned team, your dream wedding will become a reality that surpasses even your wildest expectations. Cheers to a lifetime of love and happiness against the backdrop of Living Coral’s timeless charm!

[decorationinside]

Timeless Charm with a Modern Twist: Vintage Elegance Wedding Hall Décor Unveiled

Vintage weddings evoke a sense of nostalgia, romance, and sophistication. But translating that bygone era charm into a modern setting can feel daunting. Fear not, lovebirds! Today, we unveil the secrets to Vintage Elegance themed wedding hall decoration, where heritage treasures meet contemporary touches to create a celebration that's both timeless and fresh. Setting the Stage for Sophistication: Embrace the warmth of the past with rich jewel tones like sapphire blue, emerald green, or burgundy. Drape the ceiling with sheer fabrics in these hues, creating a soft, romantic ambiance. Opt for modern furniture – think clean lines and luxurious textures – adorned with vintage lace tablecloths or embroidered runners. Gold accents throughout, from candelabras to picture frames, add a touch of timeless elegance. Flowers with a Touch of History: Embrace the beauty of heirloom blooms. Lush peonies, garden roses, and dahlias in soft pastels evoke a vintage feel. Incorporate antique brooches or pins into the bouquets for a sentimental touch. Consider incorporating unique blooms like calla lilies, ranunculus, or even dusty miller for a touch of vintage charm. Don't shy away from greenery; eucalyptus and ferns add a natural elegance. Lighting with a Warm Glow: Candles are quintessential for creating a vintage ambiance. Scatter votives on tables, arrange them within vintage teacups or silver candelabras, or even suspend them in clusters from the ceiling. String fairy lights along the drapes or around branches for a touch of whimsy. Consider incorporating vintage-style lanterns or antique lamps for a warm, inviting glow. Modern Touches with a Vintage Heart: Blend the old with the new seamlessly. Opt for sleek geometric mirrors and metallic accents alongside antique furniture. Use vintage suitcases or trunks as unique décor pieces or guest book stands. Incorporate subtle vintage references through charming details like handwritten calligraphy on menus or vintage postcards used as place cards. A Feast for the Senses: Elevate your food presentation with a vintage twist. Use tiered cake stands and vintage china plates to showcase your culinary creations. Opt for elegant finger foods served on silver platters or tiered stands. Consider offering signature cocktails with names inspired by the vintage era, served in vintage coupes or glasses. More Than Just Decorations: The vintage allure extends beyond the visual. Choose soft, romantic music reminiscent of the era, such as jazz or swing. Consider hiring a live band or a pianist for an extra touch of elegance. Incorporate vintage elements into your vows or speeches, sharing family heirlooms or stories that connect you to the past. Points to not miss: - Balance is key. Don't overwhelm the space with vintage items; let them complement the modern setting. - Personalize your story. Incorporate family heirlooms, photos, or vintage items that hold special meaning to you. - Embrace technology seamlessly. Use vintage-style photo booths or digital signage with a vintage aesthetic to enhance the guest experience. https://cozypronest.com/dive-into-the-electric-pulse-design-a-neon-nightlife-bar/ With a touch of creativity and these inspiring ideas, you can transform your wedding hall into a haven of vintage elegance, where timeless charm meets modern touches to create a celebration that's truly unique and unforgettable. So, say "I do" to a bygone era with a modern twist, and let your love story unfold in a setting that whispers of history and romance. Read the full article

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Luxurious Collection of Stylish Trays & Platters

Introducing our Luxurious Collection of Stylish Trays & Platters, where elegance meets functionality in the most exquisite manner. Elevate your dining and entertaining experiences with these meticulously crafted pieces that seamlessly blend opulence with practicality.

1. Opulent Designs: Each tray and platter in our collection is a testament to exceptional craftsmanship and opulent design. From intricate patterns inspired by classic motifs to modern, minimalist aesthetics, our pieces cater to a variety of tastes, ensuring a perfect fit for any discerning style.

2. Fine Materials: Crafted using only the finest materials, our trays and platters exude a sense of luxury that goes beyond the surface. Choose from an array of high-quality metals, including gold and silver finishes, or indulge in the warmth of rich, polished wood. Every material is carefully selected to ensure durability and timeless beauty.

3. Versatile Functionality: These trays and platters are not just beautiful; they are also designed for versatility. Whether you're serving hors d'oeuvres at a sophisticated cocktail party or presenting a lavish spread at a dinner gathering, our collection effortlessly complements any occasion.

4. Thoughtful Details: It's the little details that make our collection stand out. From meticulously engraved edges to handles that are as practical as they are decorative, every aspect of our trays and platters is designed with your convenience and aesthetic pleasure in mind.

5. Customization Options: Tailor your experience by exploring our customization options. Personalize your tray or platter with monograms, engraved messages, or unique finishes to make it truly your own. Our commitment to individuality ensures that your chosen piece is as distinct as you are.

6. Timeless Appeal: Our Stylish Trays & Platters are not just accessories for the moment; they are investments in timeless sophistication. Designed to withstand changing trends, these pieces promise enduring beauty that will grace your table for years to come.

7. The Perfect Gift: Looking for an exceptional gift for a special occasion? Our Luxurious Collection is the answer. Whether it's a wedding, anniversary, or housewarming, these trays and platters make for unforgettable presents that reflect a sense of thoughtfulness and taste.

Indulge in the epitome of luxury with our Luxurious Collection of Stylish Trays & Platters, where every piece tells a story of refined taste and enduring elegance. Elevate your dining experience and transform your entertaining space into a haven of sophistication with these exquisite additions.