#ornate master bathroom with white floors

[meineroarchitects]

Tampa Master Bath

[prettylittlebigliars]

Victorian Bathroom

[carolmunson]

what're you doing new years?

(bigmoney!steve x f!thick!reader)

recommended reading: peanut butter vibe once bitten, twice shy recommended listening: what're you doing new years eve? by ella fitzgerald brought to you in part by carol's christmas song blitz, and readers like you.

cw: minors dni. 18+. drinking, smoking (cigarettes), casual dominance, references to cocaine, bathroom smut, p in v, fingering (f!receiving), literal IDIOTS in love, fake dating trope, discussions of class relations, gambling, mild daddy kink

a/n: we made it, folks! dividers by @newlips

December 31st, 1996 - NYC The apartment smelled like fresh paint and saw dust. Sprawling and sunsoaked, a lot of open space. You assumed all the apartments in Tribeca looked like this, gorgeous inside and out. Expensive and old money, beautiful brick outsides with stunning interiors. Windows with ornate arches that went from floor to ceiling with deep sills for books or antiques that cost more than your mom's life insurance.

"It's really nice," you say, stepping into the open concept livingroom - Barcelona chairs and a sleek black couch sit on a plush carpet. It looked like a show room. The heels of your leather boots click and echo on the redone hardwood. Boxes and boxes of his life in Indiana are stacked in the room against the wall, trailing all the way to a full chef's kitchen. New appliances gleam with the film still on them, untouched.

"It's really nice," you say, stepping into the open concept livingroom - Barcelona chairs and a sleek black couch sit on a plush carpet. It looked like a show room. The heels of your leather boots click and echo on the redone hardwood. Boxes and boxes of his life in Indiana are stacked in the room against the wall, trailing all the way to a full chef's kitchen. New appliances gleam with the film still on them, untouched.

"You wanna see my room? It's almost fully done," he smiles. Steve offers his hand to you but you're hesitant. He falters when he catches the gears turning in your head and puts his hand in his pocket, leading you with a cock of his head to the left. "Down that hallway s'a guest room, laundry, full bath," he rattles off pointing down one hallway while he leads you down another, tapping on closed doors, "A couple other rooms I haven't figured out yet. Broker said they'd make great nurseries. I had to laugh." He's trying to joke with you, but you know it hurts him to say that. He's always offhandedly mentioned how much he wants to be a dad.

"And here's my room, master bath, full dressing room -- you know, sort of just like home," he smiles, clicking open the door and guiding you inside. It's set up very much like his old room in Indiana, big kingsize bed with triple fluffed pillows and hotel style linens. Crisp white this time, slight navy accents, light wood. It was bright and airy, the gauzy curtains fluttered gently against the central heating vent.

"Very you," you smile, "It's like you never left."

"Some things never change," he shrugs, opening the double doors to the dressing room, "Come see."

The room is a little smaller than his bedroom, which means it's still bigger than your apartment. The way his clothes are hung in the cubbies and his shoes are oragnized on the shelves can only be described as sterile.

"It's not done, obviously, but, we're getting somewhere," he smiles.

"Oh good, right now it's a little serial killer-y," you laugh, noticing that the other side of the room is completely empty, "Lot of vacancy here. Planning on getting a whole new wardrobe? Bored of the Saint Laurent you already have?"

He rolls his neck slowly to stretch it out, looking over at you and the vacant side of the dressing room with heavy lids through his specs. He lets out of a soft chuckle, "Nah, wanted to keep it empty so you can fit all your clothes in there, too."

You swallow. A tight smile freezes your face when he says it and you remember the conversation you had outside of his office building in Indiana the week before. His hurt features when you left him abandoned back in the lobby while he called another cab home. You came home in tears, your mom and sister consoling you and your tipsy dramatics. 'Never thought you'd be the heartbreaker, honey.'

You know she didn't mean it like that, but it still stung. Who were you to give up someone like Steve Harrington? Steve Harrington who, after he went home and cried in his shower and called his best friend about it, still wanted you to put your clothes in his closet. Still wanted to watch you wake up in the morning and rush to get ready for work. Still wanted you to come up behind him while he made you both coffee on Sunday mornings. Still wanted you take you out to dinner every Friday night so you could both sleep in on Saturday mornings.

"You got plans for tonight?" he asks when you don't reply to his half truth of a joke. You jolt out of your trance when he asks, looking over to see him cleaning his glasses with the cloth he always keeps in his back pocket. A gentle flush of pink has made itself to his cheeks and nose, your shoulders sulk a bit. You want to give into his little fantasy, but that's all it is. It's his little fantasy that doesn't need to be a reality, he'll have it with someone else -- anyone else.

You clear your throat, "Uh, yeah, actually. Um, the head of marketing, she always invites the department to her uncle's fancy New Year's Eve party so I finally made the cut. Some ridiculous theme this year -- casino or something? Just so they can all throw their money around." Steve starts to laugh, tutting while he puts his glasses back on, hands on his hips. "What's so funny?" you ask, arms crossing against your chest.

"The party's in midtown, right? At the Plaza?" he asks, matching your posture.

"Technically it's more midtown east, but yes," you reply with more attitude than you were expecting. You don't like hearing him talk like he knows his way around New York when he's been here all of ten seconds. "Yeah, your department head's uncle is Carl. CEO of Slate Insurance, s'my boss. Why do you think I came out here a little early?" he smirks. Fuck.

"Don't look so disappointed," he says, walking towards you slowly, dropping his hands to meet your hips, "You wanna just go together?"

You step out of his hold and catch his shoulders drop in his sweater, a pang of guilt drives through your chest at his disappointment, "I can get there myself, it's no problem."

"I mean, it's not the kind of party you roll up to in a cab," he says matter of factly, like it's obvious, "You have to like, make an entrance."

"I wasn't going to take a cab," you glower. A rejected Steve was sometimes not a very kind Steve, all showboating and no substance -- he just wanted to be a jerk. "What were you planning to take?" he asks, brows raised over his frames in faux curiosity, "The subway?" "Better than showing up in that tacky green Porsche," you retort, cheeks burning at his meanhearted teasing. He grins and shakes his head. "I left the Porsche with my dad. I'll probably take the new Benz," he shrugs, cocking his head while he looks at you, "Well -- my driver'll take the new Benz, but you know what I mean." Your face sours, he was reaching the border of ugly cockiness. "Looks like you’re not into a Mercedes," he frowns, a faux apologetic look washing over his face, "You wanna ride in the Bentley instead?"

"You sound like such an asshole," you confess, walking out of the dressing room and back into his bedroom. "What? I can’t congratulate myself for getting a new job?" he bites back, following you, “I’m just tryna catch up to what my life is gonna look like here, Nat.”

“Not all of us have that life, Steve.”

He softens while looking at your back, he reaches out to rest a hand on your shoulder to turn you around, “M’not trying to be an asshole, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you shrug, “I just—you know you can still be 'Hawkins Steve', Harrington. You don't have to be like these Wall Street guys.”

“I know,” he nods, both hands meeting your shoulders, “You wanna come with me tonight? Be my date? Carl’s sort of a traditional guy, it’ll be nice to make him think I’m some family man with a girl at home waiting for me.”

"Steve," you started, "We talked about this. This is your Christmas Party all over again." His eyes cast downward for a moment as the evening replays in his head at record speed. The day you left him, the day he realized he planned your whole future in his head but you didn't want that.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn--" you start before he comes back to himself in time to interrupt.

"You can be my fake date," he nearly whines, lips pouting.

"I dunno," you shrug, his hands slide from your shoulders to the dip of your waist.

"You don't want me spoiling you all night? C'mon. I gotta show off to these assholes," he asks, voice warm and soothing. His cologne ghosts your nose and your knees get weak, "And you're a great way to start showing off."

Your heart thrums when he speaks, it's so frustrating to be around someone so handsome, "Don't be stupid, Harrington."

"It's not stupid, Manhattan. It'll be fun, we're just playing pretend," he takes a step closer to you and you can see his stubble, the plushness of his lips.

You consider it, he fights off a smile because he knows you're about to say yes. Steve Harrington always gets what he wants. Steve Harrington always gets the girl.

"Just playing pretend, huh?" you challenge.

"Just playing pretend," he smiles, wrapping you in a gentle hug -- friendly, chaste, sweet, "I'll pick you up at seven."

The hug is soft -- but you can feel his heart beating hard against his chest.

Bbbrrrriiiinggg!

You run to your front door, pressing and holding the button on the intercom to buzz him in. You click the lock before escaping back into the bathroom to finish your face, makeup bag torn open in your sink. As you finish your lipstick you hear a soft knock echo down the hall.

"It's open!" you call, and the loud squeak of your front door screeches through your apartment.

"Y'know this could really use some WD-40," Steve says while he shuts the door behind him, "Do you have some? I can --"

You peek around the door frame, patting your lipstick into your lips with your finger. His eyes glint behind his glasses.

"Hey," he smiles, brushing some of the snow off of his coat.

"Hey," you smile back.

"You look pretty."

"So do you," you tease before escaping back into the mirror. He meets you at the frame of the bathroom door, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

"Should I start telling you I'm picking you up earlier so you'll be ready on time?" he asks, dipping his glasses down his nose to peer at you over the rims, "Or are you wearing pajamas?"

You roll your eyes mid-mascara application, throwing everything back in the bag when you finish, "I just have to put my dress on and then we can go, I promise."

You hurry to your bedroom, only mere steps away, pulling your dress out of it's bag hanging on your closet door, "Give me five minutes!"

You shut your door in his face, slipping the navy satin over your head. It wasn't anything too special -- vintage cut fit and flare. The curves of your body made it look more expensive than it was. Your tailor did wonders on it after you snagged it from a sad looking rack of sale dresses at Saks. You pulled on a pair of nude, gloss finish stockings -- silicone on the bands snapping around your thighs with a loud smack, before slipping on a pair of heels.

While grabbing a small purse to keep your effects in, you open the door to reveal Steve resting against the wall of the hallway. He looks inside, giving it a once over with one turn of his head.

"This is uh...cozy," he says, his smile is unethusiastic.

"Fuck off, Harrington," you groan, spritzing your ever declining bottle of Angel by Mugler across your chest and wrists.

"Let me look at you, hm?" he asks, stepping all the way into the room. You turn toward him, skirt of your dress swaying with the turn of your hips. His eyes unfocus for a moment, you hold back a chuckle -- men are so easy.

“So let me wrap my head around this real quick,” he puffs his chest a bit while he walks toward you. You giggle while walking backward, tripping on your heels, “You were gonna go to this party alone —”

“Wearing this?” he asks, catching you by the waist to steady you. He lets a finger drag from the halter strap of your dress, following the curves of your body downward, “That’s just not fair, Manhattan.”

“You’re Manhattan now, too, Steve,” you correct. His light touch sends a shiver through you and he lets out a satisfied hum. He smells like spice and evergreen, your mouth runs dry when his eyes linger on you for a little too long.

"C'mon, can't let Vinny wait too long for me down there. You're makin' me look bad," he says gently, taking you by the hand to your front door. He pulls your camel coat off the hook and holds it open for you, gliding it onto your arms with the finesse of a man who knows exactly how to treat a woman. Betrayal is the only emotion running through your chest as your body warms up against his touch.

Naturally, the Bently is the nicest car you've ever fucking seen.

He was right, you couldn't have shown up in a cab. There were paps everywhere and you couldn't understand why. It's not like there was any famous people here, just people with a shit ton of money. Were they famous by proxy? Would this show up on Page Six? If your networth had seven zeros, did you get welcomed into a hall of fame or something? Did everyone want to read about your life?

You squinted into the flashes of people taking pictures, Steve's hand immediately lacing with yours as you walked towards the entrance of the hotel.

"Careful, careful," he says, while you inch up the short icy stairway. Your heels clicking on the stone as you reach the doors, "Go slow."

"I'm okay, Steve," you assure, he looks back at you with doting eyes when you get inside.

"Just don't want you to hurt yourself, baby," he softly scolds before locking eyes with an usher for the party.

Oh, we're starting this now, you think to yourself. He walks with his hand still laced with yours while the usher leads you both to the Grand Ballroom, framed signs letting patrons know that the casino is in the Terrace Room down stairs. You immediately feel too broke to be here.

"Let me get your coat."

He undoes the button at your waist, smoothing your coat over your shoulders before removing his own. He checks them both and your eyes widen at the amount of cash you see in his wallet as he goes to pay. Gulping hard while he fingers through the bills -- hundred after hundred gleaming back at you.

He turns when he's done, running a hand through is hair, and gives you a very Harrington smile, "You ready?"

Your words catch in your throat while you look at him. His suit is perfectly tailored, the shirt patterned, but silk and neatly pressed. His leather banded watch sits perched on his wrist -- you can tell it's new. His pants hugged his thighs, streamlined in a straight line down to his ankles -- shoes freshly shined. Being handsome like this had to be a crime in some counties, there was no way he was just allowed to look like this and be rich.

"You ready, baby?" he asks again, offering his hand, "Come on."

Something about being called baby by him feels so natural. Like you forgot your own name and that's the only one that could get your attention. Baby, angel, princess, honey. You'd look up immediately and search for him at the sound of his voice. You'd know he meant you.

But he's not your boyfriend. This is just pretend. This is not what you want.

When the doors open, you can't breathe. The ballroom is completely transformed in gold and silver. The lights and chandeliers catch the decorations in a show of shimmer. Like the whole room was waiting to start glittering until you got there.

"Holy shit," you whisper.

"Yeah we're definitely not in Indiana anymore," he mutters to you. You feel his hold tighten on your hand in a show of something you hardly see from Steve. He's nervous.

You look up at him, eyes riding up from his jaw, cheek bone, to his eyes behind his glasses. His gaze roves over the party and he licks his lips, brow quirking before he makes a decision.

"You okay?" you ask, he looks down at you with a soft look in his eyes.

"I'm perfect," he says with a nod. The room is sprawling with tables and he's able to finesse a way to get you both to sit together even though the seating chart had you woefully distanced. It doesn't surprise you how easily he's able to assimilate to making things work for him here. You see his performance again and again: with the waiters, with how he orders drinks, how he checks his watch, how he smiles at people walking by.

You're both at the bar when you see it in full force, his arm protectively around your waist, thumb grazing the smooth fabric to keep him grounded.

"Steven?"

You both look over, an old man with a thick, white walrus mustache in a stunning black suit comes close to approach you. His wedding band is a shining platinum to match the watch on his wrist -- sapphires sit in the face of the metal backing. You wonder briefly how much it costs.

"Oh, Carl!" Steve beams, letting go of your waist for a moment to shake the man's hand, "How are you? Beautiful event -- really stunning."

"Thanks, thank you, but you ought to tell that to my wife. She's the one who plans these things, I just foot the bill," he laughs. His light eyes linger on you and you flush.

"And who's this? She looks like she just walk right out of Old Hollywood."

You introduce yourself, hand reaching out to shake his but he takes it to his lips to press a kiss to your hand. If he wasn't Steve's boss you wouldn't have smiled at the gesture -- but ah well.

"This is my girl, Carl. The one I was telling you about," Steve says with a blush.

"Just your girl?" he asks, eyes noting to your empty ring finger, "Hope she's your fiancé soon, Harrington."

"Sooner than she thinks. I promise, sir," they both laugh. Steve's hand returns to your waist and it feels like a leash. They talk for a moment, Steve passing you a drink while he does. It's business and you don't care, the drink is liquor forward and your face sours at the first sip.

"Sorry baby, that's whiskey. That's mine," he switches your drinks seamlessly while still in conversation. "We're just so happy to have you, Harrington -- my son Chuck, he's y'know, he's got no fuckin' clue what he's doin'. I blame myself, me and Muffy let him do whatever he wanted," Carl complains, "So I think havin' someone who just gets the business will be really helpful. I know you'll start guiding him in the right direction."

"I mean Carl, I was the same when I was twenty-six, he'll get there," it was like Steve had known him his whole life. He keeps his hands on you while the talk continues, two more men joining in. C-Suites. Big money. Important people. You're just a piece of art hanging on his arm.

You need to get the fuck out of here.

As if the heavens heard your plea, a call of your name takes you out of your bored trance.

"Over here!"

You sigh with relief at the sight of your coworker, also head to toe in shimmering Saks ready to wear in a sea of authentic Dior and Chanel.

"S'cuse me," you say gently, tugging out of Steve's grasp. He looks down at you a little sternly, you frown.

"Excuse me, I'm so sorry. A friend of mine is looking for me, it was great to meet you all," you smile at the group of men, stepping away delicately on your heels until they aren't paying attention. As they continue talking your run on the balls of your feet into your friend's arms.

"Rob, oh my god, what the fuck are we doing here?" you laugh. Robin Buckley looks like a million bucks, but you know she only makes $49k a year because you do, too.

"We do not belong here," she laughs with you, "Do you wanna go lose some money with me downstairs?"

"Yes, yes, one hundred percent," you not, "Get me away from these stiffs."

"So that's Steve?" Robin asks, passing you a glass of champagne while you finish the last sip of the margarita Steve got you a little earlier.

"That's Steve," you murmur, immediately letting the bubbles slide past your lips.

"He's really something," she grins, "You're complaining about being smothered by that?"

"Stop Rob, you don't even like guys," you tease, nudging her knee with the tip of your heeled toe.

"I don't have to like guys to know when a guy is hot," Rob says through a sip of her drink, "And he's fucking hot. Like, Tom Cruise hot. Top Gun hot."

"Oh, stop."

"Jerry Maguire hot -- and like, super fucking rich, obviously. That's a Prada suit. Are you kidding? Talk about 'show me the money,' he's showing you, babe."

"Yeah, but like," you frown a little, "You know how all the guys in finance always talk about how much they hate their wives? And all their wives are Tribeca moms who keep going on retreats to 'work on themselves' after they get cheated on?"

"Of course, that's like, the Tribeca mom rite of passage," she agrees, crossing her thin legs, her sequin dress shimmered in the low, warm, light.

"So, Steve just moved to Tribeca -- it's like...like I'm staring my future right in the face," you exclaim, another sip meeting your lips, "And it's not like I look like any of those women either. I'll be going on my first retreat in three months tops."

"Okay, well one, you have no idea what you're talking about," Robin shakes her head, "You're a smokeshow."

"And two, isn't Steve from Kansas or something?"

"Indiana."

"Same thing," she waves you off, "Steve's from Arkansas. He doesn't have the same mindset as the guys who came here when they were teenagers to jerk off at frat parties at NYU."

"They'll get to him," you shake your head, looking at her with a knowing glance, "They always do."

You both make your way over to the slot machines, weaving through crowds at roulette and craps tables, snaking by chairs sat at poker games. The piles of chips make you sweat. There was a lot of money down here.

"This is all I can handle, cards are so boring," Robin sits down on the plush leather of the seat across from the machine while you take the one next to her. You both play a few rounds in silence before she looks over at you again.

"Do you know what I think?" she asks, champagne glass empty in her hand.

"What do you think, Buckley?" you ask, finishing the last sip of yours.

"I think Andy fucked you up a little and you can't believe someone like Steve wants to be with you, so you're pushing him away," she says with a shrug, "You're trying to hurt him before he can hurt you."

"You sound ridiculous."

"I sound ridiculous or I sound right on the money?" she asks, pulling the lever on the machine. It runs and stops, she doesn't win.

"Sounds like you're not on the money at all," you shrug.

"Shut up," she laughs, "I'm just saying, I think you're really convinced he's settling when I think it's pretty clear he likes you a lot."

"You don't even know him!" you exclaim, running the machine over again.

"Looks like I might get to know him," she smirks. You turn toward the entrance and there he is, frowning while peering through the room. He's squinting behind his glasses trying to find you in the low light, hands in his pockets. For a moment you think about letting him not find you, maybe he'd pick someone else up at the party. Hell, women were gawking at him from the moment he walked in -- he had plenty to pick from.

But the desperation on his face made your heart ache -- this really was your world. Maybe he really did need you to help show him around.

Against your own judgement, you wave, hoping he'd catch you in the sea of people. You don't have to wait long to see his smile when he catches you, waving back and disappearing in the crowd.

"Hey, there you are," he breathes with a small jog towards you, "Thought I lost you."

"No, no, just out here draining my Christmas bonus," you laugh, tugging on the lever again. Robin looks over and smirks at you when he rests his hand on the back of your neck under your hair, thumb grazing the skin under the hinge of your jaw.

"This is Robin, she's my friend from work," pointing your thumb at her. Always the business man, he leans over you to shake her hand.

"Steve -- nice to meet you," he grins.

"Oh, I know who you are," she teases. You shoot her a look, but it falters. The way his hand leaves your neck to stroke over your head, gently enough to not ruin your hair, makes you melt. It had to be the booze. The haze of cigarette smoke making you woozy.

The lights of the machine infront of you flash wildly, the music sounding, screen glowing - WINNER! JACKPOT! WINNER!

"Oh, fuck yes!" you cheer while the chips fall into into the opening at the bottom.

"Come on!" Robin huffs, "I've put in at least twenty more dollars than you have."

"Didn't pick the lucky machine, Rob," you joke, collecting the chips in a stack in your hand. "How much did you win?" he asks, trying to count them while you clumsily try to keep them together.

"I think just a hundred bucks, so -- eighty dollar profit!"

"Ugh don't say profit, we're at a party," Robin groans, pulling the lever down on her machine hastily.

"Let me take those," Steve says, collecting the chips and putting them in his suit pocket, "I have to go get some anyway."

He pulls out his wallet, thumbing through bills and plucks an $100 out. He folds it, handing it to you, "Now you don't have to cash them."

"Steve..." you scold softly. He takes your hand and presses the bill into it, closing your fingers over the paper. He smiles, thumbing through his wallet again while you put the money in your purse. He plucks out another bill and holds it out in front of Robin. Her mouth hangs open at the gesture.

"Steve!" you raise your voice but he thinks the reproachful look on your face is just too cute.

"Sorry Rob, I think he's drunk," you apologize, embarrassed beyond measure.

"What? I think she deserves a consolation prize," he smiles. Robin plucks the bill from his fingers, putting it in her wristlet.

"I think he should be drunk around me way more often if this is how he acts," she rasps. Steve throws her a wink, arm snaking around you once you get up from the slot machine stool.

"S'it okay if I steal her from you?" he asks. You swallow thickly, both hating and loving how he pulls you around this party like you're his property.

"Steal her, take her home, take her kidneys, I don't care," she laughs, "Do whatever you want, consider me paid off."

"I'll see you later, Rob!" you smile, reaching out and squeezing her hand. As Steve turns around with you, you look back at her. She gives you an exasperated look -- 'What the fuck is wrong with you? He's great.'

He is great. That's what makes it so hard.

He leads you over to the chip exchange, fingers grazing your back while he lets go of your waist. His hand sneaks into suit jacket where he pulls out a wad of cash secured by a shining gold money clip.

"Can I get four grand in hundreds?" he asks.

"Steve that's -- stop," you huff, "Who're you trying to impress?"

"Impress?" he scoffs, "The buy in for blackjack is five hundred dollars, baby. This is just fuck around money."

"Here," he says, plucking a glass of champagne off of a waiter's tray as he offers them. Steve passes it to you, "Have a drink, stop pouting. It's a holiday."

You sip it bitterly while you wait and he sighs at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching back into his jacket pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and a silver lighter, embers glowing while he inhales, lighter escaping back to its hiding place.

"Hey," he says, blowing the smoke out away from you, "Wanna smile for me?"

You smile, it's fake and exaggerated, he laughs into his next drag, "I'll take it."

The attendant passes Steve a rack of chips, neatly rowed but as he's about to take them his name is called. Yet another group of stiffs asking for his attention.

"Will you hold this for me, honey? Thank you," he asks softly, passing you the rack. You nod while you take it, desperately hoping this conversation goes quicker than the last one. He introduces you like you brought you on a leash and they all shake your hand like you're a show pony that got gussied up to leave the stable. You're not a person, just an accessory -- and you know they're surprised at his choice, but he doesn't need the extra social currency.

You keep sipping your champagne and shutting up, but your ears perk up when you hear him mention you, "You know she just put together this wild campaign for their lipstick line with the creative team, she might as well have produced it. And now their quarterly has that lipstick up fourteen percent and growing. And here we are with just -- what? Claims? How do we even market that? She swears what she does is boring."

You blush at his praise. So he does listen when you complain about work.

The conversation changes and you're bored again, eyes surveying the crowd of long elegant women and handsome stuffy men. Cheers roaring from tables, the sounds from the slot machines, it seemed less overwhelming with a few drinks in you. You guessed upstairs was for the boring people.

"Have you ever even seen four grand before?" you hear sneering your way. You look up and there he is -- the heartbreaker whose heart you barely broke by breaking up with him. The boy who hardly cared.

“Andy?” you ask, brows pulling inward in disgusted shock, “What’re you doing here?”

Andy had gotten a new attitude after he got a new job, suddenly too good for you and your old group of friends. Suddenly telling everyone he broke up with you. Telling everyone he shouldn't settle for less. The glasses of champagne you’ve had finally meet your brain, making you woozy and nervous. The glittering decorations on the ceilings marry the lights and cross over your vision. Andy sparkles in front of you, his friends faded out behind him. A scene in slow motion.

You feel Steve’s hand on your waist, giving you little squeezes so you don’t feel like he’s ignoring you while he talks to his new colleagues about stocks and sales. Boring metrics that you’d care about if it mattered.

“I was invited. Perks of Chuck being my boss,” he gives you a smarmy smile, knowing you’re only here by proxy. Not because you’re important, not in the same way that—

“Whose this asshole?” Andy scoffed, giving Steve a once over. You hear Steve’s pleasant, ‘Sorry fellas, if you’d excuse me…’ to his group as he turns toward Andy and his friends. He flashes a charming Harrington smile.

“Andy! Nice to see you again, man,” he raises his champagne flute toward him cheerily. Andy looks at Steve with a furrowed brow, confused but sly.

“Sorry, guy. Not sure we’ve met,” he laughs — covered in new money sleaziness, his friends laugh with him, “Nat must’ve told you all about me, I guess.”

You feel Steve’s posture change — confident and cocky. His head tilts the way it does when you know he’s about to say something mean. Your body heats up when he places his empty glass on the platter of a near by server, putting the free hand in his pocket.

“We met in Indiana,” he corrects, confidence unfaltering, “You don’t remember?”

“Indiana?” Andy scoffs again. Your face twists into something Steve doesn’t like, a mix of annoyed and embarrassed.

“Well, since you’re at a loss let me reintroduce myself,” he smirks. He puts his hand out shake your ex’s, Andy loosely shakes it back.

“Name’s Steve,” he introduces himself with a warm genuine quality that people learn from years of sales work, clapping his other hand over Andy’s, “Steve Harrington. I’m Natalie’s boyfriend.”

He says it so casually that you immediately flush, it sounds too natural.

“Oh,” Andy says, surprised. He gives you a once over, offering you a pathetic glace, “You're dating her? You're her boyfriend?”

“Her boyfriend,” he lilts, taking his hand away. He slinks an arm back around your waist, tucking his shoulder behind yours, “And sorry, couldn't help but over hearing -- You said Chuck’s your boss? Chuck at Slate Insurance?”

“Yeah, and?” Andy asked, annoyed. Steve let out a gentle chuckle, the kind that sounds rich. The kind that sounds like a trust fund with seven figures.

“Oh, that’s—hoo!— that’s funny,” he teases, but it comes out cool and uncaring. He bites his lip to keep from laughing more, giving Andy a judgmental once over.

“What’s so funny about it?” he asks, arms crossing in a huff causing his cheap suit to crease.

“Oh, it’s uh, it’s funny because I’m Chuck’s boss,” he gestures toward him before tucking his hand back in his pocket, “So I guess I’ll see ya Monday, champ.”

Andy chokes on his sip of champagne, you bite back a mean giggle that bubbles in the seat of your chest.

“Now, hate to be rude but, my woman and I are gonna head over to the roulette table,” Steve starts, beginning to move you over to the next room with him, “Unless — you know, unless you’d care to join us. You feelin’ lucky?”

Andy’s face has gone red, eyebrows sloped down, a prominent wrinkle forming on his forehead. His friends look into their drinks, coughing and shifting awkwardly while they watch the exchange.

“No?” Steve asks, a slight taunt to his voice. Andy shakes his head no, “Ah well, suit yourself, I guess. Say bye, angel.”

Steve nudges you with his shoulder and you burn under the instruction, lifting your gaze to Andy who looks like he could maul Steve at any second, “Bye, Andy,” you mutter, your voice trailing higher than normal.

“See you around, man. Next time I catch ya, I'll give you the number to my tailor,” Steve's eyes linger on the hem of Andy's trousers -- sloppy and too long for him. He let's out a soft 'hm' before meeting Andy's gaze and shooting him a wink with a steely grin. Steve leads you out of the chip exchange by the small of your back, passing you another glass of champagne.

“Drink that before you say whatever smart thing you wanna say,” he says, hand dropping from your back to clasp with yours while he leads you through the throngs of people to the roulette table.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you lie.

“Pfft, okay,” he shakes his head in front of you, but you don’t need to see him to know that he’s rolling his eyes. You arrive at the edge of the table, oak wood bumping into your hip.

“I’m not much of a gambler,” you confess, taking your places around the table closer to the wheel. He kisses your cheek before taking your chin between his fingers gently.

“You thought I’d have you dropping your own cash here? That’s cute,” he teases with his voice low enough so the other players couldn't hear, “Daddy’s gonna gamble, baby. You’re just gonna watch.”

“Steve,” you blush, “Don’t say that.”

“I don't know,” he shrugs coolly while placing his chips, turning back to you when he's done, "I think you like when I say that."

He wins big at roulette, of course he does. He's Steve Harrington.

Now he has you nestled on his lap while he plays black jack, your hips and thighs spilling over the leg you're perched on. Everyone's drunk so no one cares that you're not supposed to do that, as long as your hands are in view of the dealer. It's not a real casino anyway.

His breath hits that spot between your neck and shoulder that makes you squirmy, hips rolling achingly slow on his thigh when he does it. You have half a mind to think he's doing it on purpose.

"Watch yourself, angel," he mumurs, placing a hand firmly on your hip to steady you, "Don't want you to fall."

You watch him play, him and his colleagues, some men he doesn't know -- they're betting real big. Big enough that you had the pleasure of holding two more racks of chips for him while the other two were stacked on the table in front of you.

The three other men have either had too many or are sitting between 12 and 16 in their cards. He has fourteen in front of him, a jack, a three of hearts, and an ace. You watch him tap the table to hit and then double down, you gulp. A fourteen thousand dollar bet, and it's just chump change to most of the guys down here.

The dealer hits, a seven of clubs slapping down on the table. "Blackjack."

He smirks and the table claps while the dealer expertly slides over $35,000 in chips which you load dutifully onto the empty racks on the table next to you.

"Really got lady luck on your side tonight, huh Harrington?" the older man next to him asks. You feel Steve's hand clap your thigh.

"Actually, she's on my lap," he smiles and you flush at his teasing, listening to them talk while the dealer shuffles for the next round. His hand slides over your thigh and he talks to the guys at the table like he's not driving you insane when he toys when the hem of your dress.

"Can I get anyone a drink?" a waitress asks the table. You turn to Steve while the men start to order, some glasses of wine, some full bottles of liquor.

"Get whatever you want, honey," he says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. The waitress looks to you expectantly and you smile. It's probably the first non-horny smile she's gotten all night.

"Can I get a bottle of Dom for the table, please?" you ask, "The earliest vintage you have."

You were pushing your luck -- but you were at a blackjack table. He squeezes your thigh and you squeal under his touch while the dealer starts the game.

"Didn't know my girl was so greedy," he teases in your ear. Your lip quirks.

"M'not really your girl, Stevie," you whisper back.

"No?" he murmurs back to you, hand skimming your dress up the side of your thigh, "Spending my money like you are."

You blush hard, he loves how easy it is to fluster you once you've had a few. Still lucid, less tightly wound. He liked when you loosened up for him, when you relaxed into his touch with all these people around.

The Dom comes and the waitress starts pouring glasses, Steve gets the bill and shoots you a look when you go to peer over the leather.

"Don't be rude, baby," he tuts, tilting it away from you. There were way too many numbers in the total for a bottle of champagne.

"Sorry, Steve," you mumble while he passes the waitress his credit card with the bill. The champagne is dry and heavenly and your smile when you take the first sip makes all the money he paid worth it.

"You like it?" he asks, attention going back to the game.

"Mhmm," you nod into your next sip.

"Good," he smiles, "Have another bottle at home we can break into later."

Home. Oh. He wants you to go home with him. Was that the plan? Were you following through with the fake date thing the whole time? All night?

"Hm," is all you reply. He keeps winning big -- but you're really the only thing he's betting on.

It's starting to get a little late and the party is picking up. All the screens in the casino have Dick Clark on, the big party on the other side of town is ramped up to eleven.

Steve holds your hand at the chip exchange, the manager and two security guards stand by while they stack bundles of cash for Steve. You know the short set of bands is more money than you've ever seen in your life, it almost makes you nervous.

"This isn't gonna fit in my money clip, angel, can I borrow your purse?" he asks sweetly. Your purse isn't huge, but it can fit the money in it.

"Uh, um, yeah," you say, you mouth running dry while he puts at least forty grand in your bag.

"Thank you, baby," he smiles, the booze affecting his grin. You let him lead, taking you out of the casino and back upstairs to the ball room. There are people everywhere, but more importantly, there is food.

You both don't even think about it, manuevering to the buffet in silence, giggling while you load up plates with obscure hors d'oeuvres and different types of bread and dessert. You sit at the table, barely talking while you eat, but stealing glances at each other.

"I think this is octopus, try it for me and tell me," he says, holding out a small sauteed tentacle on a cracker with avocado.

"I'm not trying it for you!" you laugh, "Try it for yourself. Don't be such a wimp."

"C'mon, just try it for me, tell me if it's good," he smiles, leaning his chin on his other hand to watch you. He pushes the cracker further towards your mouth and you give in, lettling him pop the bite sized morsel into your tongue. His fingertips brush your lips and he swallows, adams apple bobbing slowly against his collar.

"Definitely octopus," you nod.

"You're so brave," he says dreamily, fingertip booping against your nose.

"Okay weirdos, enough with your fake date, let's go dance," Robin's voice booms from a couple tables over while she walks towards you. She grabs both of your hands to lead you to the crowded dance floor. The live band plays fast jazz and the three of you make up what you can to it. Robin really taking the prize for most creative dance moves.

"Is she okay?" Steve asks, giving you a little spin. You look at her and back at him, nodding.

"Yeah, she'll sleep good tonight," you let him lead, arm wrapped around your waist. The music slows and he hums to himself, pulling you closer.

"This is nice," his voice is warm and low, "This is what I wanted all night."

"To dance with me?" you ask softly. He nods, a bashful smile curling up his lips, glasses slipping a little down the slope of his nose. You push them up gently, putting your arms back around his neck.

"I really like dancing with you," he whispers, noses close to brushing each other.

"Thanks."

His bashful smile turns to a tight one, "Look, I'm sorry about the fiance and boyfriend stuff with Carl and Andy. That was outta line, I shouldn't have said all that shit."

"It's okay," you assure, but he's not done talking.

"I'm sorry if I've been laying it on too thick all night," he says apologetically, "Got too committed to the part, I guess."

"S'fine Steve," you say, looking up at him, "It's just pretend."

Hurt flashes in his eyes, brows softening when you say it.

"Yeah...it's just pretend," he mutters. He loosens his hold on your waist and you can tell he's embarrassed. You can feel his hands become clammy over the fabric of your dress, skidding against the satin while they move.

A woman gets to the center of the stage, a beautiful 40s gown clinging tight to her curves while she grips the microphone. The opening words of Ella Fitzgerald's, 'What're you Doing New Years Eve' , starts with the band.

"Aw, you don't hear this song a lot," you smile, "My dad loved this song."

"Yeah?" he asks. He takes a deep breath, looking at the other couples getting close, nuzzling, kissing. Diamond rings dazzling in the light, wedding bands glinting in his eyes.

"C'mere," he says, reinvigorated to keep up the charade. His arm snakes all the way around you, chest to chest, his other hand holding yours. He rests his forehead against yours, moving slow with you to the music, the instrumental lulling you both into the fantasy you both created.

Steve had such a way of making it feel like it was just the both of you.

'Maybe it's much too early in the game, Ah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same, What are you doing New Year's, New Year's eve?'

"It's a pretty song," he says.

"Yeah," you agree, lost in how he looks at you.

'Maybe I'm crazy to suppose, I'd ever be the one you chose, Out of the thousand invitations you received.'

You rest your head on his chest while the horns solo, the hand on your waist trailing up to brush your hair and cup your face.

"Hey, look at me," his voice is quiet, "Wanna see your pretty face, Manhattan."

"I look tired," you complain, looking back up at him with a scrunch of your nose. His thumb slides over your cheek bone.

"You look perfect," he confesses.

'Ah, but in case I stand one little chance, Here comes the jackpot question in advance, What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?'

"Hey Nat," he starts.

"Mhm?"

"What if it --" he lets out a breath through his nose, "What if it wasn't pretend?"

"What?"

10!

"What if we didn't have to pretend?" he asks, "What if we just...what if we just were each other's real dates? Cause like --"

"Steve, come on."

9!

"You can't pretend like this doesn't feel right," he pleads, "Like this doesn't feel real."

"Steven, I told you this morning--"

8!

"Baby, I haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me at the office," he confesses, "Thinking about how to change your mind. I want you so bad, Nat. You have no fucking idea."

"I'm just the only person to tell you no," you assure, "That's the only reason you want me."

7!

"No, I promise that's not it," he urges, both of his hands cupping your cheeks while he talks. The cheering getting louder around you at the clock ticks closer to midnight.

6!

"You're not gonna want this after a month of you being here. Look at everyone around you Steve -- I don't fit in here," you say, "Don't you want a trophy wife? Someone who everyone gawks over?"

"Have you seen yourself?" he asks, eyes wild, "Had to walk behind you all night so all these guys would stop staring at you."

5!

"Steve you're just...settling," you finally say it and it feels like a weight has floated off your chest, "This was the opposite of what you came to New York for."

"Settling? Are you stupid?"

4!

"You wanted to do something new and exciting," you counter.

"You are new and exciting," he can't believe the words coming out of your mouth, "You are why I wanted to be here. I wanted to do something new with you."

3!

"I've been sitting in Hawkins for the last five years thinking about how much fun you're having out here. Thinkin' about how much fun we could have together -- haven't stopped fucking thinking about you since the night I met you in Porter's."

"You're just saying that," you argue, lump growing in your throat, "You're just drunk."

2!

"I'm not just saying that, please just listen to me" he pleads, "Fuck Nat, I --"

1!

"I love you."

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Silver and gold metallic confetti pours from the ceiling, your breath hitches while it glitters on it's way down.

"I love you so much, it hurts," he confesses, eyes shining behind his frames, "I just -- I think I loved you the whole time."

Your mouth falls open against his hold on your cheeks.

"You don't have to say it back, I--"

You stop his sentence with your lips against his. The kiss he wanted to give you all night. It feels like an old movie kiss with with way his arms wrap tight around your back and waist and your hands meet his face.

He breaks away from you for a moment, locking his eyes with yours.

"I really mean it," he murmurs, "I love you."

"I --," his eyes linger on yours, your cheeks heat up, "Steve."

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

He knew it. God, he fucking knew it.

The lock clicks and he checks it once, twice, three times before caging you in against the wall. There weren't any families here so it's not like anyone was looking to use the bathroom with a changing table. Everyone was using the lounge bathroom for coke anyway.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he gasped into your mouth, "You're so fucking pretty."

"Thanks," you breath against his kiss. His lips trail from your mouth down your jaw, lips sliding down your neck to your chest. His tongue is warm and wet on your skin and you sigh up to the ceiling at the feel of it.

He manhandles you at the sound, arms overtaking you to shove the complimentary products on the sink's counter and throw you onto it. You look at him with swollen lips from his kiss, eyes begging. He grabs your hand to press it firmly up against his erection, staring down at you down the slope of his nose, “That’s how you got me all night, lookin' at me like that. Wearin' this dress -- what's wrong with you, hm?”

"S'wrong with me?" you slur, dragging your hand back over his cock without his guidance, "S'wrong with you? This suit fitting you so nice, that stupid fancy watch?"

"Stupid? My Patek?" he laughs, "It was nine grand, don't call it stupid."

"You're disgusting," you spit, but it doesn't have the bite you can normally dish. The way he lingers over you makes you lose your edge.

"Mmm, love when you're a little mean," he groans while he buries his face in your neck, reaching for the hair at the nape of it, tugging just enough to make your thighs twitch, "Get to watch you get so nice for me."

You feel his lips drag over your sensitive skin, pulling it in between his teeth to bite down. He takes in your scent, grunting into your jaw while the perfume he likes rules his senses. He's rough, hungry. He's a little drunk, but so are you.

You thighs part to make room for him, ass nearly hanging off the counter while his hips press into you. You run a hand through his silky hear while he assaults your neck, eyes reeling when he hits that spot right past the base.

"You all wet?" he asks in your ear, gravelly voice booming in your chest. His hand skates up your fleshy inner thigh, heat greeting him like an old friend.

"I'm so wet, Steve," you whine back, pushing your hips against his fingertips while he strokes over your satin covered clit.

"Yeah, you're so wet for me?" he mocks, "I got you all worked up out there?"

"Y-yeah," you whimper while his fingers toy with your panty line, inching inward. He's smug when he feels what's waiting for him behind the fabric.

"Showing you off all night? Throwin' all my cash around?" he growls, a finger sliding in between your legs, "Givin' it all to you to hold on to? That got you all hot and bothered?"

"Y-yes, yeah," you nod, biting your lip to keep quiet.

"Oh-ho baby, they can't hear you out there -- party's gettin' a little rowdy," he teases, "Go ahead an' moan for me."

A second finger follows his first and you start whimpering with every thrust, every flick of his wrist. You grip the counter, skirt of your dress falling back as your thighs lift up and out involuntarily.

"Steve," you moan it like a prayer, it echos back at you, "Shit, fuck, just like that."

"Good girl, baby," he grins, more so when your hips rock in time with his fingers, "Oh, you showin' off now?"

"Sh-shut up, Steve," you chuckle between gasps, face crumpling again while he grazes your g-spot with his fingers. Your walls grip him, gushing over his knuckles. A lazy smile falls onto your face while your hips pick it's rhythm with his fingers.

"Love when you smile like that for me," he says softly, pressing a kiss against your lips -- the facade of your rich, sexy, big money fuck toy falling away, back to his Hawkins beginnings, "You look so beautiful."

"You think I'm beautiful?" you tease against his lips, but you know the answer.

"Don't think it, I know it," he whispers between pecks.

He takes out his wallet with his free hand, flipping it open, using his nimble fingers to pull out the condom he'd kept in there tonight just in case. His other fingers ease out of you slowly, tossing you a stern look when you whine.

"Be patient, pl-- Jesus, baby," he melts when you take his fingers, still shining with your slick, directly into your mouth. You make a big show of letting them leave your mouth with a wet pop, his mouth hanging open, eyes unfocused.

"Just wanted to clean up my mess," you say with an innocent shrug.

"You're gonna kill me," he breathes out, sliding the condom on and tossing the wrapper to his feet. Your legs part immediately, skirt of your dress falling way with your thighs, the roll of your tummy poking out to the cool air as you hold your legs up close to your chest.

"You're okay? You want this?" he asks, "I know you had a few."

"I want this," you nod, "I want it."

"Good, cause it's yours," he grins, gliding the tip down from your clit to your entrance, "S'all yours."

"All mine," you whine, sighing high and breathy while the tip breaches inside. Your hips roll instinctively to feel more of him and he obliges, pushing in a third of the way to feel you make room for him. The moan you let out makes him bite his lip. You feel so good around him.

"Who fills you up like me, huh?" he pants while he pulls out and pushes back in, gripping the fat of your thighs hard enough to bruise. "No one, Steve," you moan back, while he rocks against you, "P-please more, please." His lips fall open when you ask, "More, huh? You want all of it?"

You nod feverishly, gripping his shoulders, nails nearly ripping the fabric of his dress shirt as you pull him by the hips. He laughs, locking his hips in place where only half of him was snugly inside you. He adjusts his glasses, peering at your through them, "Say please again, angel." "Please, Stevie," you beg, hips shimmying. He tutts at you, pushing a little farther in and a whine peals through you.

"Like that?" he asks, "You want a little more?"

"Please, please, please," you huff, the stretch of him slowly moving in driving your eyes to the back of your head. The bulbous tip creeping past your g-spot unbearably slow -- juices seeped out of you over him.

"Please, please, please. All that whining, think this is all you can handle angel," he mocks gently, hand cupping your cheek. His thumb grazes over your lip while he starts his thrusts again -- half way to all the way out.

"No, no, all of it, please," you grovel, "Please. It's mine."

You bite your lip, eyes watering while the pleasure builds below your belly -- you're aching for the fullness of him.

Your eyes round in neediness, overtaken by the wetness between your legs, the way he touches you, "Please, daddy." "Fuck, baby," he groans while he pushes in to the hilt, lips finding yours while he readjusts. His arm reaches around your back to angle you differently, caging you in against the mirror on the wall. His other hand snakes up to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deep kiss, all deep breaths and tongue. Steve's hips roll against yours, shallow thrusts to keep himself as buried inside of you as possible, "See what happens when you — mmm — ask me nicely?" You roll your eyes but he thrusts again and your head lolls back against the mirror, “Sh-shut up, you’re so— you’re so — ah! oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I’m so what? We’re you gonna say ‘I’m so annoying’?" he grins into another kiss. You can feel his tip pushing against your cervix with every short thrust. Your body stretched around him with ease, making you gasp with every thrust of his hips, “M’so deep you can’t even talk right.”

He presses his forehead against yours, eyes shut tight while sweat builds on his forehead, "Oh shit, shit you feel so good."

"Harder, please," you whisper. He nods against you, picking up the pace of his thrusts and he has to cover your mouth to drown own the sounds coming out of you.

"Shh, shh, not too loud baby," he giggles, "Don't wanna lose my job."

You take a deep breath through your nose, trying to maintain your composure while you pulse tighter and tighter around him.

"Steve you...oh my god, yes, yes, like that," you slur out while he holds you steady on the counter, watching you come undone around him. "Say you're mine," he says, grunting between thrusts, "Say you're all mine."

"M'all yours Steve, all yours," you nod, eyes pooling with tears as each thrust sends you closer to seeing white, "Oh fuck, fuck -- I'm gonna cum, ohmygod m'gonna cum."

"Cum for me angel," he says through gritted teeth, getting close himself, "Cum for me."

Your legs vibrate when he pulls your hair to bare your neck to him, final thrusts sending blinding pleasure through your body. You shake and spasm beneath him, whining and mewling at the come down.

"That's it, baby," he coos while you gasp back to reality, "That's my girl." He buries his face in your neck when his hips stutter, groaning, gripping your legs so hard you know you'll bruise.

"Mmm, god," he grunts, "Oh fuck, I'm gonna -- oh, baby --"

You both rest against eachother, breathing heavy, hands roaming. He pulls out slowly while he softens, discarding the used condom in the trash. You go to move but he stops you, pulling up his briefs and pants and cleaning you up gently.

"You okay?" he asks, "That felt good?"

You nod, "Was it good for you?"

"Bathroom sex with my girlfriend? Oh, amazing," he smiles, helping you down off the counter.

"Girlfriend, huh?"

"Do you wanna be called something else? I'll call you anything you want," he bushes, "S'long as you're my girl, Manhattan."

"You're girl," you muse, "Steve Harrington's girl."

"Sounds really good, doesn't it?" he tosses you a cool look, "Lot's a girls would beg for that title."

"You're annoying," you huff, opening the door to the bathroom and peeking outside to check for people. The coast was clear and he leads you out to the hallway by the hand, heading over to the coat check.

"We're going home?" you ask.

"We're going to yours," he says.

"Why?"

"So we can start packing up your shit to bring to mine tomorrow morning."

[wishing-stones]

I have some thoughts about the mood board to share later (currently ass deep in research, it's fine), but what kind of personal touches does each of the boys' (plus Ren's) rooms have? And how much does each room depart from the base interior of the hold?

The boys have pretty much free lease on their own spaces, but most of them largely go with the same baroque style, just... in different colors.

I'm just slapping down ideas with Google Image search. Long post is long and also image heavy.

Killer's room looks like:

This, but with darker greys and some touches of red. His bed is pushed up against one wall as well, but he does have a lot of the same furniture. His room is fairly simple by choice, featuring little more than a desk, some bookshelves, a dresser, a standing mirror, and a single chair and coffee table. It's all fairly worn as well, but he's managed to not destroy the original fixtures. His room is on the inner side of the hallway, so he doesn't have a balcony or windows. He doesn't mind.

Dust's room looks like:

This in muted greys and dark blues (and minus the chandelier). He has a balcony and windows, a lot of bookshelves, two desks, a seating area near a fireplace (that frequently isn't lit) a wardrobe, and a lot of rugs. His furniture is both very heavy and fairly modern-- he's destroyed enough of it in LV attacks that he learned heavy furniture will deter him from ruining it, and even if he does, it's easier to replace than the nice-ass stuff elsewhere in the castle.

Axe's room looks like:

But, similar to Dust, he has it in muted greys and blues. He also doesn't have such a fancy headboard or curtain-- actually, he doesn't have a lot at all that's very fancy. Like Killer, his room is on the inside wall of the hallway, so he has no window or balcony. He has some threadbare rugs, with a few, newer and softer ones closer to his bed and the bathroom. He has an enormous bed that takes up most of the space, but also has a large comfy sofa in a small seating area, a wide dresser, a desk he doesn't often use, and some bookshelves. These are a mix of modern and fancy-- the desk is very fancy, but a California King doesn't really have a lot of options in fancier styles. It and the dresser are both very modern.

Cross' room looks like:

... except with less gold and more black. He's more-or-less left it as-is, but has a balcony and windows. He has the seating area, fireplace, desk, bookshelves, wardrobe, and standing mirror. His desk is piled high with masses of paperwork, since he does the bulk of the mission write-ups. Everything else in his room looks... barely used. It's clear he's only usually in it to write reports and sleep.

Baggs' room looks like:

Lots of white with touches of champagne and gold. He hasn't done a lot to it, because he's rarely there. Mostly it was a color shift from black to white (since he's used to white, being in the lab as often as he is). Like the other balconied rooms, he has a fireplace and a seating area. He has two desks, a wardrobe, standing mirror, and a chaise (also in the seating area). It's entirely dependent on where he is when Nightmare knocks him out if he sleeps in this room, or sleeps in a side room in the lab.

Nightmare's room looks like:

and

in black and gold. The bed is enormous and ornate with a canopy, and he also has a balcony(ies), fireplace, and seating area-- they're just in another sectioned-off part of the room. So is his closet (walk in-- he collects a lot of fancy clothes and things he doesn't often wear unless he's being fancy) and small, personal reading nook (in the same section as his closet, it's a comfy chair surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookcases). He has a balcony through the seating area (to the left of the bed) and across the room from his bed-- it wraps around, and he has his master bedroom situated at the head of the wing the rest of his boys (and Ren) sleep in.

Ren's room is going to be a bit of a doozy, since it gets featured a lot.

Their (and everyone else's, more or less) seating area and fireplace are directly to the right as you enter their room. They have two chairs as shown, a table, and a chaise that helps box that area in. The arm of the chaise faces the door. To the immediate left of the door is their wardrobe, and nestled between it and some bookshelves is their desk.

Their bed is canopied similarly to this one, and on the far wall across from the desk. To the right of it is the en-suite bathroom, and to the left are the doors to the balcony. Their room is done in dark burgundy and black, with touches of dark wood.

Everyone has an en-suite bathroom as well. Speaking of those...

They don't have windows, but the full mirror is standard. The showers have frosted glass, and the tubs are claw-footed, not built-in. They're just as fancy as the rest of the castle is.

All of them still have the framing and paneling seen throughout the rest of the castle, as well as light fixtures and detailing. Colors, furniture, and the style of their beds are largely up to them.

Their room orders are largely:

Nightmare, at the head of the hall

[An empty garden-facing room] [Hallway] [Killer] [Ren] [Hallway] [Axe] [Empty garden-facing room] [Hallway] [Empty] [Cross] [Hallway] [Empty] [Baggs] [Hallway] [Chara, when he's here] [Dust] [Hallway] [Empty] [Empty][Hallway][Empty]

(Hopefully this more or less conveys the layout without actually drawing it, lmao.)

The hall turns left into the wing from a long hallway lined with windows on the garden-facing side. Everyone is on the second story.

[sofiamantegafan110]

NEW X-MEN EPISODE 6

EPISODE 6- MURDER MYSTERY AT XAVIER'S

THE USS O’HALLAHAN IS A SUPER YACHT, USED TO HOST THE FAMED CHICAGO SINGER AND SEDUCTRESS, CESSILY O’HALLAHAN’S MOST EXCLUSIVE SHOWS. RIGHT NOW, IT PLIES THE WATERS OF LAKE MICHIGAN WITH A BEVY OF EXCLUSIVE CLIENTS ABOARD.

CUT TO THE MAIN PERFORMANCE HALL, A LAVISH AND SPLENDID ROOM WITH A SPARKLING CRYSTAL CHANDELIER THAT HANGS ABOVE THE CENTER OF THE ROOM WITH DINETTE TABLES LITTERING THE FLOOR, ALONG WITH SEMI-PRIVATE BOOTHS ALONG THE EDGES. THE VIPS ARE ABLE TO SIT UP IN BALCONIES PLACED ABOVE THE OTHERS WITH ALL OF THIS, OF COURSE, FACING THE ORNATE STAGE WITH ITS HEAVY MAROON CURTAINS AND ROBUST MOOD LIGHTING. FRAMED PORTRAITS LINE THE WALLS AND THE TABLES ARE SET WITH REAL SILVER AND CRYSTAL.

CUT TO THE BACKSTAGE OF THE THEATER, WHICH IS A BIT MORE SUBDUED. A ROW OF MIRRORS AND VANITIES LINE ONE WALL WITH ONE IN PARTICULAR BEING LARGER AND SET APART FROM THE OTHERS, DECORATED WITH THE FLOWERS OF CESSILY’S ADMIRERS. HER PURSE SITS ATOP IT, ALONG WITH A FEW DRAWERS, SOME LOCKED, SOME NOT, THAT HOLD THE THINGS A SUPERSTAR NEEDS TO GET READY. A RACK OF COSTUMES IS LOCATED ON THE OPPOSITE WALL, AND A FEW TRUNKS BENEATH THEM.

CUT TO THE HALLWAY, RATHER SHORT AND NONDESCRIPT. IT HAS SOME PAINTINGS HERE AND THERE ALONG ITS LENGTH, AT LEAST ONE OF THEM WORTH ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD. BEYOND THAT AND THE PLUSH CARPETING, IT MOSTLY JUST CONNECTS ALL THE QUARTERS AND STATEROOMS ON THIS LEVEL, AS WELL AS THE ENGINE AND ELECTRICAL ROOMS, WITH A STAIRWAY THAT LEADS UP ON DECK AND THE BRIDGE.

THE CREW’S QUARTERS CONSIST OF EIGHT BEDS AND A LOCKER AT THE END OF EACH. A SMALL DOOR LEADS TO A LITTLE STATEROOM FOR THE SHIP’S CAPTAIN, WHERE THE BACKUP NAVIGATIONAL PLOTTERS ARE STREWN ACROSS THE DESK. THERE’S A SMALL BOOKCASE THERE, AS WELL AS A LOCKED STORAGE TRUNK AND A LOCKER WITH UNIFORMS IN IT.

CESSILY’S STATEROOM IS LARGER THAN ANY OTHER LIVING SPACE, NATURALLY. THE MASTER SUITE CONSISTS OF TWO ADJOINING ROOMS. THE FIRST ONE LEADS INTO A SMALL OFFICE AREA WITH A DESK NEATLY ARRANGED WITH PAPERS, BOOKS, AND LEDGERS, A FEW COMFORTABLE CHAIRS AND A COUCH PLACED ALONG ONE WALL. THE SECOND ROOM IS THE BOUDOIR WITH A LARGE SOFT BED, A SPACIOUS CLOSET, A LITTLE BATHROOM ON THE SIDE AND SOME PERSONAL PICTURES AND SHELF SPACES IN THE BEDROOM ITSELF.

THE CABINS OF THE GUESTS ARE ALL PRETTY SIMPLE, AND THERE’S ONE FOR EACH GUESTS. WHAT SECRETS HIDE WITHIN THEM? WE MAY NEVER KNOW! EACH ONE IS TASTEFULLY DECORATED WITH A SMALL LOCKER FOR PERSONAL EFFECTS, A SINGLE, BUT COMFORTABLE, BED, A VERY SMALL SHELF, AND A READING LIGHT.

CUE INTRO AND CREDITS

THE XAVIER SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS PRESENTS… A MURDER MYSTERY PARTY: MURDER ON LAKE MICHIGAN! IT ALL BEGINS ONE CALM AND STARRY NIGHT…

NAMELY THE ROARING TWENTIES, ABOARD A CRUISE SHIP ON LAKE MICHIGAN NEAR THE TAIL-END OF PROHIBITION.

ALL THE PARTICIPANTS ARE DRESSED IN PERIOD-APPROPRIATE CLOTHING, AND YET LOOK OTHERWISE LIKE THEMSELVES IN THE PERFORMANCE HALL OF THE CRUISE SHIP. AT THE CENTER STAGE IS CESSILY O’HALLAHAN HERSELF, LOOKING A LOT LIKE CESSILY KINCAID IF SHE HAD A 1920’S COIF AND SHORT CURLY HAIR WITH BICEP-LENGTH OPERA GLOVES AND A KILLER DRESS THAT SHIMMERS IN THE LIGHT WHENEVER SHE MOVES.

SITTING FARTHER AWAY FROM THE OTHERS IS TALIA RICHEAUVILLE (PLAYED BY NOCTURNE), WHOSE EXPRESSION SHIFTS TO SOMETHING VERY MYSTERIOUS. SHE HAS AN EYE PATCH OVER ONE EYE, EVEN THOUGH SHE DOESN’T NEED ONE, AND SHE’S DRESSED IN A LONG BLACK COAT WITH AN ELEGANT CANE THAT SHE HOLDS CONFIDENTLY IN ONE HAND.

GREEN-SKINNED AND MUCH TOO YOUNG TO BE A SHIP’S CAPTAIN IS VICTOR STANLEY (PLAYED BY ANOLE), WHO WATCHES THE PERFORMANCE WITH CURIOUS EYES. HIS CAPTAIN’S HAT IS TUCKED UNDER ONE ARM AS HE CUTS A PLEASING FIGURE IN HIS WHITE UNIFORM, THE EPAULETS AND TAILORED WAIST ACCENTUATING HIS CASUALLY SCULPTED BUILD.

BRIAN NICHOLS (PLAYED BY TAG), DRESSED IN BEIGE SUSPENDERS AND A STRAW BOATER HAT, KEEPS HIS FOCUS ON THE SILVER-SKINNED SINGER AS SHE PERFORMS. THOUGH HER VOCALS TUG ON THE HEARTSTRINGS OF SEVERAL GUESTS, HIS ATTENTION IS PURELY PRACTICAL AS HE GRADES EVERY NOTE, ALLOWING HIMSELF TO SMILE WHEN SHE FINISHES.

ROXY SINERO (PLAYED BY BLING!) SPORTS A SLEEVELESS BLACK FLAPPER DRESS THAT REACHES TO ABOUT HER KNEES. THE STEREOTYPICAL IMAGE IS SLIGHTLY RUINED BY THE AMETHYST SKIN, BUT SHE MAKES UP FOR IT BY CASTING A GRUMPY FROWN IN RANDOM DIRECTIONS. SHE’S NOT PARTICULARLY HAPPY TO BE HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS.

A CIGAR IS CLUTCHED BETWEEN THE INDEX AND MIDDLE FINGERS OF CLARICE LUCIANO (PLAYED BY BLINK)’S RIGHT HAND, AMIDST A SELECTION OF RINGS MADE OF SILVER, GOLD, AND DIAMOND. A FEDORA IS TUGGED DOWN OVER HER EYES, HER PERFECTLY TAILORED GREY PINSTRIPE SUIT HAVING BROADER SHOULDERS THAT ONE MIGHT EXPECT. HER HAIR IS CUT SHOULDERLENGTH FOR THE OCCASION AND A LILY TUCKED INTO THE LAPEL OF HER SUITCOAT, ALONG WITH A KILLER GLEAM IN HER EYES.

THE ALISTAIR SISTERS (PLAYED BY THE STEPFORD CUCKOOS) ARE WATCHING THE SHOW AND ALMOST SILENTLY MURMURING AMONGST THEMSELVES. WHAT? THEY’RE NOT JEALOUS. YOU ARE JEALOUS. OF THEM. BECAUSE THEY’RE GONNA BE STARS! DRESSED IN SLIGHTLY IDENTICAL EVENING WEAR, THEY SIT AT A TABLE NEAR THE STAGE, BIDING THEIR TIME LIKE LIONS CIRCLING THEIR PREY.

JOSHUA SILAS (PLAYED BY ELIXIR) IS CLAD IN A CRISP PINSTRIPED NAVY SUIT WITH PLEATED PANTS AND A SUIT JACKET WITH A CLEAN WHITE SHIRT BENEATH AND A CRIMSON VEST. HIS BLACK TIE IS UNDONE AND A WIDE-BRIMMED HAT MATCHES HIS SUIT AS HE WATCHES IN A SURLY FASHION.

MEGAN MATTHEWS (PLAYED BY PIXIE) DOESN’T TURN TO HER NOTEPAD ON HER TABLE, WHERE SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE A RECORD OF CESSILY’S PERFORMANCE. HER STYLED CLOCHE HAT IS ANGLED JAUNTILY, AND SHE WEARS A METICULOUSLY-CONSTRUCTED OUTFIT THAT EVOKES A MONASTIC ROBE. GOLD GREEK KEY WEAVES OVER HER BLACK SHEATH DRESS AS RAINBOWS PIROUETTE HER SHARP-LOOKING WINGS.

JULIAN BRICKMAN (PLAYED BY HELLION) IS HERE WITH A PURPOSE. PEOPLE BUY MONEY FROM HIM, PEOPLE GIVE HIM THE MONEY BACK. HIS INTERESTS ARE ON THE LINE TONIGHT AND HE WANTS HIS COMEUPPANCE. DRESSED IN A FINE BLACK TWO-PIECE SUIT ACCOMPANIED WITH A BLACK VEST AND EVEN A POCKET WATCH, HE SITS AT A TABLE IN THE CORNER, KEEPING HIS EYES ON ALL INTERESTED PLAYERS.

SOFIA LORDER (PLAYED BY WIND DANCER), THE MAYOR OF THIS LITTLE OPERATION THEY CALL A TOWN, IS DRESSED IN A WHITE UNISEX SUIT WITH THIN-TIPPED BOOTS, A FIGURE-HUGGING VEST, A LONG-TAILED SUIT, AND A WESTERN-STYLED TIE AS SHE LOOKS FIERCE AND DEFIANT. LORDERS HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO GO FANCY, SENDING THEIR CHILDREN OUT OF TOWN TO STUDY IN THE BIG CITY WHERE THEY LEARN AMONG THE BIG SHOTS, BUT SOFIA HAS RETURNED HOME EARLIER THAN EXPECTED WHEN HER FATHER PASSED AWAY, ALSO EARLIER THAN EXPECTED. SHE SURVEYS THE AREA WITH IN-CHARACTER COLDNESS THAT HIDES OUT-OF-CHARACTER GIDDINESS.

FINALLY, THE SHOW ENDS AND CESSILY SASHAYS BACKSTAGE WITH A HAND ON HER HIP. IMMEDIATELY, ROXY STANDS AND FOLLOWS HER, WITH TALIA MAKING HER WAY TOWARD THE EXIT, VICTOR GREETING PASSENGERS WHILE USING OVERLONG WORDS AND OCCASIONALLY SLIPPING INTO AN UNCONVINCING ENGLISH ACCENT, BRIAN MOVING TO MEET CESSILY BACKSTAGE BUT UNAWARE OF ROXY, THE ALISTAIR SISTERS STORMING OFF WITH MEGAN TRYING TO GET AN INTERVIEW FROM THEM, AND JOSH MEANDERING NONCHALANTLY TOWARD THE HALLWAY AND THE OUTSIDE DECK BEYOND WITH JULIAN FOLLOWING THE GRUFF BOOTLEGGER TO GET A WORD.

SOFIA TURNS TO DON CLARICE AND SAYS THAT SHE’S SURPRISED TO FIND HER ON THE UPPER DECKS AND NOT BETTING ON THE ONGOING BLOODSPORTS AT THE FURNACE. CLARICE SMIRKS, SAYING THAT BLOODSPORTS ARE ONE THING, BUT SHE WANTED TO HEAR HER GAL SING A LITTLE TUNE. SOFIA NODS BEFORE MOVING BACKSTAGE TO DO THE HANDSHAKES AND CONGRATULATIONS SORT OF THINGS THAT GOOD MAYORS DO.

MEANWHILE, CELESTE TURNS AS MEGAN ASKS HER IF THEY WERE THE ONES DOING THOSE JAWDROPPING VOCALS AT REHEARSALS EARLIER TODAY. SHE NODS, SAYING THAT THAT WAS DEFINITELY THEM AS THE OTHER SISTERS HEAD BACKSTAGE. MEANWHILE, TALIA TRIES TO STIFLE A LAUGH WHILE IN THE HALLWAY AS SHE REMEMBERS CLARICE’S CIGAR AND FEDORA. AT ANOTHER PART OF THE HALLWAY, JOSH TURNS TO FACE JULIAN AS VIC JOINS THE CONVERSATION, TELLING THE GOLD ENTREPRENEUR THAT HE DOESN’T WANT ANY TROUBLE ON HIS SHIP.

MEANWHILE, CESSILY IS SITTING IN FRONT OF HER MIRROR WHEN ROXY ENTERS. SHE TELLS THE CRYSTAL GIRL THAT SHE’S SURPRISED TO SEE HER BEFORE SAYING THAT SHE SHOULDN’T BE THERE. ROXY FOLDS HER ARMS ACROSS HER CHEST, ASKING IF SHE REALLY SHOULDN’T BE THERE OR IF CESSILY DOESN’T WANT HER THERE. SUDDENLY, BRIAN AND SOFIA ENTER AND CESSILY TELLS HER MANAGER TO ESCORT ROXY OUT BEFORE NOTICING SOFIA AND TELLING BRIAN TO FETCH HER A DRINK.

SUDDENLY, THE LIGHTS GO OUT. THOSE BACKSTAGE HEAR MOVEMENT, A SCUFFLE, AND SOMETHING HITTING THE GROUND AND SHATTERING. THERE’S A GASP, PLEADING AND PLAINTIVE, AND THEN A FLESHY THUMP AS CESSILY LETS GO OF SOFIA’S SHOULDER AND SOMETHING HITS THE FLOOR.

SUDDENLY, THE LIGHTS FLICKER ON AND SOFIA, ROXY, AND BRIAN STAND AROUND THE CORPSE OF CESSILY O’HALLAHAN! BLOOD POOLS ON THE CARPET AROUND THE KNIFE PUSHED INTO HER BACK. MINDEE AND PHOEBE GASP AS THEY ENTER AND THE LATTER SCREAMS THAT THERE’S BEEN A MURDER, AND ROXY LETS OUT HER BEST DAMSEL-Y SCREAM AS SHE DROPS TO HER KNEES AND ASKS WHY THE DEAD SINGER COULDN’T LOVE HER.

EMMY AWARD WINNING ACTRESS, ROXY IS NOT.

NEARBY FLOATS A BLUISH, SEMI-TRANSPARENT CESSILY KINCAID, WEARING THE SAME CLOTHES AS HER CHARACTER, BUT GHOOOOOOOOSTLY~!

SOFIA: SINERO! HOW COULD YOU?!

YES, SOFIA THROWS ROXY UNDER THE BUS. ROXY, MEANWHILE, ROXY SAYS THAT IF ANYONE DID THIS, IT WAS PROBABLY HER. BRIAN TELLS ROXY TO GET AWAY FROM THE BODY, AND ROXY YELLS AT HIM TOO, SAYING THAT HE DIDN’T CARE ABOUT CESSILY AND JUST WANTED TO MAKE MONEY OFF HER.

GHOST CESSILY: YES. YEEEEES. TURN UPON ONE ANOTHER…

IN THE HALLWAY, JULIAN AND JOSH GASP UPON HEARING THE SCREAMS OF MURDER. VIC TELLS THEM THAT HE KNOWS THEY WERE BOTH THERE WITH HIM, SO IT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN ONE OF THEM. SUDDENLY, TALIA APPEARS OUT OF SOFIA’S STATEROOM AND VIC TURNS TO HER, ASKING WHAT SHE WAS DOING IN THERE, AND ALLOWING JOSH AND JULIAN TO RUN BACKSTAGE. TALIA SAYS THAT SHE JUST GOT A BIT TURNED AROUND AND TELLS VIC THAT SHE’S GOING OVER TO HER ROOM NOW. SHE THEN HEADS OFF INTO ANOTHER ROOM THAT VIC SAYS ALSO ISN’T HERS.

VIC STARTS TO WALK OVER IN TALIA’S DIRECTION AS SHE SLIPS INTO JOSH’S ROOM, BUT HE PAUSES BRIEFLY, GLANCING UP AND DOWN THE HALLWAY. VIC THEN LEAVES JOSH’S DOOR AND JOGS OVER TO CESSILY’S ROOM, OPENING IT WITH THE MASTER KEY AND RUSHING INSIDE. CLARICE FOLLOWS HIM, SAYING THAT SHE THINKS THEY BOTH HAVE THE SAME THOUGHT HERE.

BACKSTAGE, JOSH, JULIAN, CELESTE, AND MEGAN JOIN THE GROUP BACKSTAGE. JULIAN SHAKES HIS HEAD IN PITY WHILE SOFIA TELLS ROXY THAT THEY ALL KNOW CESSILY LEFT HER AT THE ALTAR. WHILE ROXY WAILS TO THE MAYOR OF MURDERVILLE THAT SHE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THEY HAD, SOFIA MOVES OVER TO ONE OF THE MIRRORS AND PULLS CURIOUSLY, REVEALING A SECRET DOOR BEHIND IT. JULIAN WASTES NO TIME GOING DOWN THERE, REQUESTING A WORD WITH BRIAN IN THE FUTURE.

ROXY: NO WAY AM I GOING DOWN THERE TO GET STABBED LIKE POOR CESSILY, THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! SOMEONE NEEDS TO MOVE HER SOMEWHERE PRIVATE! WE CAN’T JUST LEAVE HER LIKE THIS!

STEPFORDS: WE CAN’T MOVE THE BODY! WE SHOULD… YOU KNOW… INVESTIGATE! SURELY THERE ARE CLUES UPON HER PERSON!

WITH THAT, CELESTE TELLS PHOEBE TO EITHER GET FINGER PRINT DUST OR GATHER UP EVERYONE ELSE. PHOEBE NODS AND STYLISHLY STALKS OFF WHILE SOFIA TELLS ROXY TO STAY CRYING OVER HER BELOVED OR COME DOWN AND AVENGE HER. SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE WILL DO AND DECIDES TO FIND THE CULPRIT, FOLLOWING JULIAN DOWN THE SECRET PASSAGE. ROXY GLARES AT HER, ASKING WHAT GOOD AVENGING WILL DO IF CESSILY’S DEAD.

BRIAN: YOU THINK YOU’RE SPECIAL BECAUSE YOU HAD A THING WITH CESSILY?! JOIN THE CLUB! SHE’S SCREWED HALF THE SHIP! I STUCK BY HER THROUGH IT ALL! SHE WAS MY GREATEST ACCOMPLISHMENT!

ROXY: CESSILY AND I HAD SOMETHING SPECIAL!

ROXY THEN LEAVES THE BACKSTAGE IN TEARS (SHE’S NOT ACTUALLY CRYING), WHILE BRIAN, JOSH, MEGAN, CELESTE, AND MINDEE BICKER AMONGST THEMSELVES.

AT CESSILY’S STATEROOM, VICTOR HUNCHES OVER THE RECENTLY DECEASED DIVA’S DESK. JUST AS HE NOTICES SOME KIND OF CONTRACT, HE LOOKS OVER AT CLARICE, SAYING THAT HE SUPPOSES THEY MIGHT HAVE THOUGHT ALONG SIMILAR AVENUES. (HE TRIES TO PRONOUNCE ‘AVENUES’ IN A SORT OF FRENCH ACCENT AND FAILS HORRIBLY) AND LOOKS BACK AT THE PAPER, SAYING THAT CESSILY SEEMS TO HAVE INTENDED TO CUT HER MANAGER OUT OF THE CONSIDERABLE PROFITS FROM HER REMARKABLE TALENT.

MEANWHILE, ALONG THE SECRET PASSAGEWAY, JULIAN NOTICES A SHIMMERING SOMETHING. HE LOOKS CLOSER AND SEES THAT IT’S A NECKLACE. HE THEN REACHES THE END OF THE PASSAGE AND PUSHES OPEN THE DOOR AT THE OTHER END, COMING INTO CESSILY’S STATEROOM WHERE DON CLARICE AND CAPTAIN VICTOR HAPPEN TO BE. CLARICE WONDERS WHAT HE’S DOING THERE AS SOFIA STEPS IN BEHIND HIM.

SUDDENLY, THE LIGHTS GO OUT. TALIA CAN BE SEEN STROLLING OUT OF JULIAN’S ROOM BEFORE THEY DO, BRIAN SUDDENLY MUTTERS THAT HE HAS TO GET OUT OF THERE, AND ROXY GIVES HER BEST HORROR MOVIE SCREAM BEFORE FLEEING TO THE DECK OF THE SHIP.

WHEN THE LIGHTS COME BACK ON, MEGAN MATTHEWS, ACE REPORTER, IS CLUTCHING HER THROAT ON THE GROUND, RED RUNNING BETWEEN HER FINGERS AS SHE STRUGGLES AND GASPS FOR AIR. BRIAN’S HAT LIES NEXT TO HER BESIDE THE KNIFE USED TO STAB CESSILY.

THE MURDERER HAS STRUCK AGAIN.

GHOST-CESSILY SCREAMS IN HER BEST ‘NOOOOO, JENNA!’ VOICE AS A TRANSLUCENT PIXIE ‘GHOST’ RISES FROM THE DEAD BODY. SHE WRAPS HER ARMS AROUND MEGAN IN A BIG HUG AND SQUEEZES HER EYES SHUT WITH A GRIN.

GHOST-CESSILY: OH, OUR POOR MEGAN MATTHEWS! SHE WAS ONTO THE HOTTEST SCOOP OF HER LIFE! WOE! WOOOOOE!

MEANWHILE, TALIA HEADS OVER TO THE CREW’S QUARTERS, MAKING HER WAY OVER TO THE ONE THAT READS CAPTAIN VICTOR STANLEY’S QUARTERS. AFTER COMMENTING THAT THAT’S A STUPID ASS NAME, SHE OPENS THE DOOR AND HEADS ON IN.

BACKSTAGE, JOSH DEMANDS EVERYONE (BASICALLY JUST THE CUCKOOS) SHOW THEIR HANDS AND THE SISTERS STARE AT HIM. CELESTE ASSUMES THAT THE KILLER WAS PROBABLY ONE OF THE PEOPLE WHO RAN OFF AND SAYS THAT FROM WHAT THEY’VE HEARD, CESSILY WAS GETTING AROUND LIKE SOME SORT OF TAWDRY BICYCLE. GHOST CESSILY GETS OUT A NOTEPAD, WRITING ‘DON’T FORGET THE BLOOD SPLATTER!’ WITH A FEATHER PEN.

MEANWHILE, TALIA LEAVES VICTOR’S QUARTERS WITH A TAP OF HER CANE. SHE WALKS OUT AND SEES PHOEBE HEADING BACK TO JOIN HER SISTERS FROM HER ERRAND, HOLDING A MAKEUP KIT AS THE ONLY THING SHE CAN FIND FOR FINGER-PRINT DUST.

IN THE STATEROOM, JULIAN NOTICES BRIAN IN THE HALLWAY AND SAYS THAT THEY NEED TO HAVE A WORD WHILE CLARICE NOTICES SOME PAPERS ON THE DESK AND SMIRKS, SAYING THAT IT SEEMS LIKE THEIR CAPTAIN HAS A CRUSH. SHE THEN SHOWS A SERIES OF LETTERS ADDRESSED TO CESSILY BY VICTOR AND ASKS HIM IF HE DIDN’T WANT ANYONE TO SEE THEM BECAUSE HE TOLD HER HE’D KILL EVERYONE ON THE SHIP FOR HER. SOFIA ‘OHS’ SLIGHTLY AS VIC LOOKS AT THE LETTER IN HIS HAND AND LOSES IT, HIS FACE GOING DARK GREEN.

HE THRUSTS THE LETTER AT CLARICE AND SAYS THAT THERE’S NOTHING ABOUT MURDERS. HE DOESN’T KNOW THAT FOR SURE AND HE’S SURE AS HELL NOT GONNA CHECK. SUDDENLY, TALIA LEANS IN AND SAYS THAT VIC WAS KISSING CESSILY BEFORE THE SHOW BEFORE HEADING BACK OUT INTO THE HALLWAY. VIC DEMANDS TO KNOW WHO SHE IS WHILE GHOST CESSILY BURSTS OUT LAUGHING, SENDING A TELEPATHIC SIGNAL TO VIC THROUGH THEIR PSYCHIC LINK SET UP BY THE CUCKOOS, SAYING THAT SHE DIDN’T KNOW VIC WOULD BE THE CAPTAIN.

SOFIA ARCHES HER BROW, COMMENTING ON THE TITILLATING SITUATION.

MEANWHILE, ON THE DECK OF THE USS O’HALLAHAN, ROXY LOOKS UP AT THE MOON, IGNORING THE SHOUTS AND CALLS FROM WITHIN THE SHIP.

ROXY: THE MOON SPLIT IN HALF AND STARS CRUMBLED. FALLING LIKE FIREWORKS INTO THE SEA. I WATCHED THE WORLD FALL APART, ON THE DAY THAT MY LOVE LEFT ME.

TALIA STOPS SHORT ON HER WAY UP TO THE DECK TO HEAR ROXY’S MONOLOGUE AS THE BLACK-CLAD CRYSTAL GIRL CLIMBS OVER THE RAILING OF THE DECK, YELLING TO THE STARRY SKY THAT SHE AND CESSILY WILL BE TOGETHER SOON.

THEN, SHE JUMPS OVERBOARD, INTO THE LAKE, NEVER TO BE HEARD FROM AGAIN.

TALIA WATCHES THE SITUATION BRIEFLY BEFORE GIVING A SHRUG AND HEADING RIGHT BACK DOWN THE HALLWAY TOWARD ROXY’S ROOM, ON HER OWN AGENDA.

IN THE STATEROOM, VIC ASKS SOFIA TO READ THE LETTERS AND TELL THEM OF THE APPARENT SCANDAL BEFORE INTERNALLY GRUNTING A BIT WHILE GHOST-CESSILY TELLS HIM THAT SHE GOT THOSE PASSAGES FROM THE FINEST OF ROMANTIC LITEROTICA. CLARICE JABS A FINGER AT VICTOR, ACCUSING HIM OF MAKING THE MOVES ON HER DAME BEFORE SAYING THAT SHE DOESN’T THINK ANYONE IS KILLING FOR LOVE HERE.

CLARICE: MOST PEOPLE KILL FOR MONEY. AND THE PERSON WHO STANDS TO MAKE THE MOST MONEY OUT OF ALL THIS? MY DAME’S MANAGER!

CESSILY CHUCKLES BEFORE TURNING OVER TO THE DRIPPING WET ‘GHOST’ OF ROXY. SHE LAUGHS AND HUGS HER GIRLFRIEND, SAYING THAT SHE’S TOO MUCH WHILE ROXY SAYS THAT IT’S ALL PART OF THE ACTING PROCESS. YOU HAVE TO BE DRAMATIC TO MAKE IT MORE INTENSE.

MEANWHILE, JOSH WALKS OUT OF THE BACKSTAGE ROOM TO FIND CLUES WHILE PHOEBE CHASES HIM, SAYING THAT HE CAN’T ABANDON THREE ELIGIBLE BACHELORETTES TO A MURDER. CELESTE HEADS TOWARDS THE STATEROOM WHILE MINDEE RUNS OFF DOWN THE HALL IN VAGUELY THE LAST DIRECTION SHE SAW ROXY GOING.

IN THE STATEROOM, AS SOFIA CONDUCTS HER OWN INVESTIGATION, VICTOR SHAKES HIS FIST AT CLARICE, SAYING THAT SHE ALWAYS TOOK CESSILY FOR GRANTED. CLARICE GLARES AT HIM, SAYING THAT CESSILY CHOSE WHO SHE WANTED IN THE END AND IT WASN’T HIM BEFORE VIC EXPLODES IN FAKE MELODRAMA, SAYING THAT CLARICE ONLY WISHES THAT SHE COULD HAVE LOVED HER LIKE HE DID AND NOW SHE’S LOST HER CHANCE. AS THEY ARGUE, BRIAN AND JULIAN WONDER WHO THE HELL TALIA’S SUPPOSED TO BE AND WHY SHE KEEPS GOING IN PEOPLE’S ROOMS. JOSH HEADS TOWARD THE HALLWAY WHILE THE STEPFORDS TRY TO GATHER EVERYONE.

GUESS WHAT?!

THE LIGHTS GO OUT.

A LOUD BANG COMES FROM THE STATEROOM FOLLOWED BY A THUMP. WHEN THEY COME BACK ON, DON CLARICE LUCIANO CLUTCHES HER CHEST, A REVOLVER LYING ON THE FLOOR. SHE WAS SHOT WITH HER OWN GUN! AND CELESTE IS STANDING IN THE DOORWAY, HAVING HEARD EVERYTHING VIC SAID.

GHOST CESSILY: J’ACCUSE! WHO COULD HAVE DONE THIS?!

AS GHOST CLARICE ENTERS, ROXY GIVES HER A SHOVE FOR STEALING HER GIRLFRIEND. ROXY LAUGHS AND ASKS IF THERE’S GHOST POPCORN AS MEGAN HIGH-FIVES HER. BEING IN THE ASTRAL PLANE (IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY GUESSED), CESSILY CREATES A JUMBO TUB OF EXTRA BUTTERY POPCORN AND HANDS IT TO CLARICE.

IN ROXY’S ROOM, TJ ASKS CESSILY IF SHE WINS AT SOME POINT. SHE SAYS THAT SHE FEELS LIKE PERSONAL GOALS ARE BEING MET HERE AND SHE FEELS LIKE IT’S TIME TO HOP ON HER JET SKI AND RIDE INTO THE SUNSET. CESSILY TELLS HER TO JUST JOIN THE SHENANIGANS, REMINDING HER THAT THEY DIDN’T REALLY HAVE ANY JET SKIS IN THE 1920’S, BUT SHE COULD PROBABLY STEAL A LIFE BOAT.

MEANWHILE, JOSH AND PHOEBE JOIN CELESTE, VIEWING CLARICE’S BODY. SOFIA BENDS DOWN BESIDE HER ‘DEAD’ GIRLFRIEND AND COMMENTS THAT SHE WILL MISS HER STUPID ACCENT. SHE CLOSES THE MAFIA DON’S EYES BEFORE GRABBING HER RIFLE AND POINTING IT AT VICTOR, TRYING TO ACT PARANOID.

SOFIA: THAT IS ENOUGH! I WILL NOT BE GOING DOWN WITH THIS PROVERBIAL SHIP! WHOEVER DID THIS BETTER COME OUT RIGHT NOW AND WE CAN DISCUSS TERMS, OR I WILL START SHOOTING! *TELEPATHICALLY* CESSILY, IS THIS WHAT YOU WASTE YOUR TIME ON WHILE YOU’RE ON THE INTERNET?

JULIAN AND BRIAN WALK IN ON SOFIA BRANDISHING A GUN AS MINDEE AND TJ JOIN THE GROUP. THE TRIPLETS HOLD THEIR HANDS UP AND PHOEBE ASKS HOW MANY BULLETS THE GUN HAS. SHE DEDUCES THAT WHOEVER DID THIS HAS A SECRET TO HIDE ABOUT CESSILY AND THEY MURDERED MEGAN BECAUSE SHE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD FIGURE IT OUT. MINDEE THEN ACCUSES BRIAN OF KILLING CLARICE SINCE SHE WAS THE ONE WHO FIGURED OUT THAT HE WAS THE KILLER.

TJ: EH, IT’S PROBABLY THE BOOTLEGGER OR THE LOANSHARK. BOTH OF ‘EM. I DUNNO. I’VE BEEN BUSY.

JULIAN: ME? THE MAYOR IS THE ONE WITH THE GUN!

BRIAN QUICKLY TRIES TO DEFEND HIMSELF AGAINST THE TRIO’S CLAIM BUT JULIAN AND JOSH BOTH AGREE WITH THEM, SAYING THAT CESSILY INTENDED TO FIRE HIM. IT’S POSSIBLE THAT HE COULDN’T HANDLE IT AND DECIDED TO KILL HER TO EARN PROFIT FROM HER DEATH. IN THE BACKGROUND, VIC TRIES TO GRAB THE GUN FROM SOFIA AND GETS HIS HAND BITTEN IN THE PROCESS. AND OF COURSE, THE CASPER CREW IS JUST EATING THIS UP, WATCHING AND EATING THEIR GHOST POPCORN.

IN THE END, THEY REACH A LOGJAM. THEY CAN’T DECIDE WHO DID IT, BUT EVENTUALLY DECIDE THAT BRIAN, THE MANAGER, HAS A VERY CLEAR MOTIVE, AND PROOF OF SUCH. PLUS, HE WAS PRESENT OR NEARBY FOR EVERY MURDER. NOT TO MENTION POOR MEGAN WAS HOLDING HIS HAT AS SHE DIED.

WHEN THE POLICE ARRIVE THE NEXT MORNING, IT’S A TENSE STANDOFF OF GUESTS BRANDISHING KNIVES, CANDLESTICKS, AND AT LEAST ONE GUN AT EACH OTHER. BRIAN IS CARTED OFF INTO CUSTODY WHILE VIC IS TREATED FOR HIS SOFIA-INFLICTED “BITE WOUNDS”.

ROXANNE SINERO’S BODY WAS NEVER FOUND…

AND THE KILLER… WALKED FREE.

WE THEN ROLL FAKE CREDITS THAT SHOW THAT THE SCRIPT WAS WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY CESSILY AND THE SETTING WAS PROVIDED BY THE CUCKOOS THANKS TO THE ASTRAL PLANE. THEY ALSO SET UP A PSYCHIC LINK SO THE GUESTS COULD GIVE CESSILY THEIR FEEDBACK. WE THEN CUT OVER TO THE END CREDITS SCENE.

SAW-ESQUE FLASHBACKS SHOW THE STEPFORDS IMMEDIATELY STORMING OFF TO THE HALLWAY AND CESSILY’S STATEROOM. CELESTE WAS STOPPED BY MEGAN LEAVING MINDEE TO HEAD TO THE ELECTRICAL ROOM TO TURN OUT THE LIGHTS WHILE PHOEBE SNUCK IN AND MURDERED CESSILY O’HALLAHAN THROUGH THE SECRET PASSAGE THEY LEARNED ABOUT FROM CELESTE’S AFFAIR WITH CAPTAIN VICTOR.

THE GIRLS THEN RUSHED BACK TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME FROM THE HALLWAY WITH MEGAN, WHO WAS NONE THE WISER. IT WAS THEN THAT THEY SENT PHOEBE OFF TO ‘GATHER FINGER-PRINT DUST’, ONLY FOR HER TO ONCE AGAIN SHUT OFF THE LIGHTS SO CELESTE COULD SLIT MEGAN’S THROAT AND MINDEE COULD PLANT BRIAN’S HAT ON HER, SINCE THEY’D DISCOVERED THAT IT WASN’T CESSILY THAT SUNK THEIR BUDDING CAREERS, BUT HER MANAGER, AND THEY KILLED THE WRONG PERSON! TO GET THEIR REVENGE, THEY PLANNED TO FRAME BRIAN.

ROXY OFFED HERSELF, LIKE A TOTAL BASKET CASE.

THEIR THIRD AND FINAL VICTIM WAS CLARICE. ONCE AGAIN, THEY SPLIT UP, PHOEBE HEADING OUT TO SHUT OFF THE LIGHTS AGAIN WHILE MINDEE SHOT THE DON, WHO WAS LOUDLY HEARD ACCUSING BRIAN JUST BEFORE HER DEATH! ONCE AGAIN, THEY ATTEMPTED TO FRAME BRIAN FOR THEIR CRIMES…

…AND IT WORKED.

WE THEN CUT OVER TO CESSILY’S ROOM AS CESSILY ASKS THE GROUP WHAT THEY THINK. THEY IMMEDIATELY GIVE OFF VARIOUS SOUNDS OF APPROVAL AS CESSILY TURNS BACK TO HER LAPTOP AND ADDS THE FINISHING TOUCH;

MURDER ON LAKE MICHIGAN

BY CESSILY KINCAID AND THE XAVIER SCHOOL THEATER DEPARTMENT.

A XAVIER’S SCHOOL PRODUCTION

~FIN~

[samsinghhinwick]

Sam Singh Hinwick House

Hinwick House is a magnificent Georgian mansion located in the picturesque countryside of Northamptonshire, England. Built in the early 18th century, the property has undergone numerous renovations and restorations over the years, including an extensive refurbishment in the 21st century that transformed the interior spaces into a luxurious and modern retreat.

The interior design of Sam Singh Hinwick House blends contemporary and classic styles to create a sophisticated and inviting atmosphere that celebrates the property's rich history while embracing modern comfort and functionality. The designer carefully selected furnishings, fabrics, and finishes that complement the architectural features of the house and create a harmonious and cohesive design scheme.

Upon entering the house, visitors are greeted by a grand foyer that sets the tone for the rest of the interior spaces. The foyer features a soaring ceiling, intricate moldings, and a stunning crystal chandelier that adds a touch of glamour to the space. The designer chose a neutral color palette of whites, creams, and grays for the walls and floors to create a serene backdrop for the furnishings and art.

The main living areas of Hinwick House are designed for entertaining and relaxation, with ample seating areas and plenty of natural light. The drawing room is a highlight of the house, with its tall windows, ornate fireplace, and elegant furnishings. The designer chose a mix of traditional and contemporary pieces for the space, including a plush velvet sofa, a pair of classic armchairs, and a modern glass coffee table. The walls are adorned with a collection of artwork that adds color and texture to the space.

The dining room at Hinwick House is equally impressive, with its high ceilings, intricate moldings, and dramatic chandelier. The designer chose a round table and upholstered chairs for the space, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere for dinner parties. A large mirror on one wall reflects the light and adds depth to the room.

The kitchen at Hinwick House is a chef's dream, with state-of-the-art appliances, ample counter space, and a large island for food prep and casual dining. The designer chose a mix of materials for the space, including marble, stainless steel, and wood, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere that blends seamlessly with the rest of the house.

The bedrooms at Hinwick House are designed for comfort and relaxation, with plush bedding, soft lighting, and elegant furnishings. The master suite is particularly luxurious, with its king-sized bed, sitting area, and en suite bathroom. The designer chose a mix of fabrics for the space, including silk, velvet, and linen, creating a sumptuous and inviting atmosphere.

The bathrooms at Hinwick House are equally impressive, with their high-end fixtures, luxurious materials, and spa-like atmosphere. The designer chose marble, glass, and polished chrome for the finishes, creating a sleek and modern look that is both functional and beautiful.

The library at Hinwick House is a cozy and inviting space, with its built-in bookshelves, comfortable armchairs, and warm lighting. The designer chose a mix of leather and fabric for the furnishings, creating a comfortable and inviting atmosphere for reading and relaxation.

The outdoor spaces at Hinwick House are equally impressive, with their manicured lawns, colorful gardens, and stunning views of the surrounding countryside. The designer created several seating areas for outdoor entertaining, including a covered terrace with a fireplace and a poolside lounge area with comfortable chairs and umbrellas.

In conclusion, the interior design of Hinwick House is a testament to the skill and creativity of the designer. With its blend of classic and contemporary styles, luxurious materials, and attention to detail, the house is a stunning example of modern luxury that celebrates the property's rich history and natural beauty. Whether relaxing in the elegant living spaces, enjoying a gourmet meal in the dining room, or unwinding in one of the luxurious

[carolinhairandmakeup]

Master Bath Philadelphia Inspiration for a large, ornate, multicolored, and porcelain tile installation Bathroom remodel with vaulted ceilings, porcelain tile, a multicolored floor, a double sink, white cabinets, recessed-panel cabinets, beige walls, an integrated sink, quartz countertops, a hinged shower door, white countertops, and a freestanding vanity.

[intothewordless]

San Francisco Bathroom Master Bath

Example of a large ornate master white tile and marble tile marble floor and white floor bathroom design with recessed-panel cabinets, a two-piece toilet, marble countertops, gray cabinets, gray walls, an undermount sink and a hinged shower door

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Master Bath Bathroom in New York Example of a large ornate master light wood floor bathroom design with a vessel sink, white walls, flat-panel cabinets and light wood cabinets

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Portland Bathroom

Ornate master white tile and subway tile ceramic tile and multicolored floor freestanding bathtub photo with gray cabinets, gray walls, an undermount sink, quartz countertops, white countertops and beaded inset cabinets

[luewashere]

Master Bath - Victorian Bathroom Ornate master bathroom with white subway tile, white floor, pedestal sink, two-piece toilet, marble countertops, and beige walls.

[daisy-source]

Bathroom - Victorian Bathroom Large, ornate master bathroom with a claw-foot bathtub, white tile, blue cabinets, a two-piece toilet, blue walls, a quartzite countertop, and a mosaic floor made of white and blue tiles.

[missroxelot]

Victorian Bathroom Portland Ornate master bathroom with beaded inset cabinets, gray cabinets, gray walls, an undermount sink, white countertops, and quartz countertops, as well as white subway tile, ceramic tile, and a multicolored floor.

[kc-readme]

Touch Wood

When I was 10, Brother and I broke the large, round mirror hanging in our living room. For years, it had been held up by the same tiny nails and hooks we used for our family picture frames, which were far smaller and lighter compared to that hefty slab of glass. I had grown up trying not to make eye contact with my reflection, afraid that one wrong look could knock the huge thing down, but the Feng Shui master had insisted on its lofty placement when we moved in. He might have changed his mind, had he known that someday, Brother would be annoying me with some stupid joke; that I’d shove him just hard enough to regret it; that when his back hit the wall, it would send the mirror crashing down on our heads.

Mother heard it shatter over the sizzle of dinner in her frying pan, abandoning the kitchen and running to investigate. Once she realised it hadn’t been our blue and white porcelain wealth vase, or our lucky bamboo in its ceramic pot, she froze in the doorway with such abject terror in her eyes, you’d think she had been looking right at a ghost. A dozen pie-slice shards and hundreds of odd fragments, like an assortment of tiny mirrors, were spread out on the ground, reflecting Brother’s bloody left eye a thousand times over. Mother vanished back into the kitchen and returned quickly, dropping to her knees amidst the web of glass. She was armed with both of our salt shakers, and, grabbing my wrists, emptied one in my grasp. Our trembling fingers sent stray grains flying, and though some found their way into my wounds, I could not manage to cry. I could only stare in horrified fascination as Brother’s eye continued its steady crimson drip on his hands, where Mother was exhausting the other salt shaker as if she could not see the granules dissolving in his blood.

“Throw over your shoulder,” she instructed.

We thought she was joking, even as the red seeped into the parquet and she shoved the mass of glittering scrap aside with her bare hands to knock, frantically, on the stained wooden slats.

Tok tok tok, tok tok tok.

We dutifully tossed our handfuls of salt, adding to what would undoubtedly be hours of cleanup. I tried to stand, knees wobbly from witnessing Brother’s blood loss and still oozing some of my own, and my teetering frame distracted Mother from rapping her knuckles raw against the floor. She scooped me into her arms, laying me down on the sofa before tending to Brother. The last thing I remember before passing out was trying to keep my gashed legs from staining the beige cushions, and though I woke up bandaged in bed with a growling stomach, whispers of Mother scrubbing her burnt pan in the kitchen lulled me back to sleep.

The next morning, Mother gathered all the mirrors in our house, even the ones that were adhered to our bathroom tiles with industrial-strength glue, loaded them into her car along with the broom she’d used to clean the mess, and drove to The Salvation Army. While she was gone, Brother and I delicately examined the one ornate hand mirror she had left behind, facedown on her rosewood dressing table. It was a gift from Father before he had passed on, and we ran our bandaged fingertips reverently over the elaborate, metal-cast phoenix design. Making sure to hold it safely above the lacquered surface, we turned it over for Brother to look at the gauze secured across his eye.

“You look cool, like a pirate,” I tried to assure him.

“Yarr,” he joked, nudging my shoulder delicately.

Every day for the next 7 years was a ritual. Our knuckles turned calloused from knocking so frequently on every piece of wooden furniture we owned, and we were no longer allowed to sweep the floor. Thankfully, superstition hadn’t said anything about vacuum cleaners, because at the rate Mother was throwing salt over her shoulder, we would be buried and preserved in our own home before the broken mirror could curse us in any way. The number of lucky bamboos in the house doubled, then tripled, and items from every religious denomination began to accumulate in our rooms. Crucifixes, horseshoes and dreamcatchers hung above us as we slept, though Brother and I still had nightmares that we kept secret from Mother, lest she made us sprinkle holy water over our sheets for the third time in a single day. We would sneak into her bedroom sometimes, stepping cautiously over the lines of salt across the doorway and around her bed to her dresser, where the hand mirror still sat. Our tiny reflections watched us preen as we grew older; we both began to style our hair, and I started to wear makeup.

Last week was the final week of our mirror curse, and we had hoped, though never truly believed, that Mother would ever let go of her evil-thwarting habits, even if nothing else unfortunate had occurred all these years by correlation. We knew she would owe it to the lucky pennies, or the rabbits’ feet, or Brother’s goldfish.

A strong industrial fan oscillated towards me and whipped my long hair into my face, jolting me back to where I stood before Mother’s open casket. She looked so different in death, despite the usual amulets and trinkets still wound tight in her braided hair, which the embalmer found impossible to remove without shaving it all off. They had called to ask about giving her a wig, but we’d be damned if Mother wasn’t cremated with her lucky charms. Brother put his arm around my shoulders as we stared at her pretty face, all 7 years worth of wrinkles gone from her forehead and making her look like she did the morning of the incident. We laid her hand mirror beside her head, its empty frame missing the piece of glass that once sat in its round indent. It had fallen out last friday, when she’d used it to powder her face, and she had a stroke when it hit the ground and split into three separate pieces. Brother and I dashed in to see her struggling for the bowl of salt on her shelf. We quickly heaped some into her hands, as well as our own, and tossing it over our shoulders together was second nature. I ran to phone the ambulance while Brother prayed by her side.

“Which heaven do you think she’ll go to; the Christian or Buddhist one? Maybe Islamic,” I mused lightly as I laid her diverse collection of prayer beads in the casket.

“I don’t know,” Brother turned to look at me, and a spot of light streaked across his glass eye when he smiled, “But there had better not be mirrors in any of them.”

[vancouverkitchenrenovation]

Master Bathroom Ideas For Small Spaces

Regardless of whether you have a large or small master bathroom, there are some things you can do to improve the look of your bathroom. These include mirroring the wall, using storage solutions, and installing over-shower baths. You can also incorporate freestanding bathtubs into your design.

Tiles

Using tiles for small master bathroom ideas can help your space stand out. You can create an eclectic look using tiles in your bathroom, or go for a classic look. If you’re working on a tight budget, opt for tile that is easy to install. Ceramic tile looks like natural stone, while porcelain tile is less expensive and more budget-friendly. Using patterned tiles can add visual interest to a small bathroom.

To create an interesting look, consider choosing a tile that is rectangular or square. These tiles can be installed in straight lay or diagonally. Long format tiles can make a small bathroom feel longer and more spacious.

In addition to a tiled floor, you can use a patterned tile on the wall. A bold tile on the side of a tub or shower can make a small bathroom feel more spacious.

Mirroring the wall

Adding a wall of mirrors to a small master bathroom can make the space feel bigger and brighter. In addition, a mirrored wall can add a lot of character to the space. There are different types of mirrored walls, including floor-to-ceiling, wraparound and framed, and they can be a great way to add depth and dimension to your bathroom.

For example, a wraparound mirror is a mirror that is secured to the wall, creating an illusion of space. Usually, they are custom-cut for each room. These mirrors work best with contemporary and eclectic designs.

A framed mirror is a mirror with a decorative frame. These can range from large ornate masterpieces to simpler designs. Frames for framed mirrors should be at least 10 cm wide to ensure a clean look. The frame should match the decor of the bathroom, as well as the mirror itself.

Storage solutions

Choosing the right bathroom storage solutions can open up your space and help you keep your bathroom organized. There are many different options available, but each one has a specific purpose. The best way to choose the right storage solution is to consider where you plan to put your items, how much space you have, and how functional you need it to be.

Wall-mounted modular furniture is a popular choice for bathroom storage because it can be sized to match the space and texture of the room. Designed to be easy to clean and maintain, these pieces of furniture can be found in a wide range of styles and colors.

Using recessed open shelving can be a great way to save space, especially in a small bathroom. Basket shelves can also be a great choice for storage. Basket shelves are inexpensive and easy to install. Simply nail through the weave of the basket to create a shelf.

Over-shower baths

Having an over-shower bath can make your bathroom look bigger. It can save space and create a nice showering experience. It can also give you a quick rinse.

A walk-in shower is another popular bathroom idea. It can stretch across the shortest wall of your bathroom and give you plenty of room for a luxurious shower. It can also be a great way to add a little bit of flair to your bathroom. It can also provide a comfortable and relaxing environment.

A walk-in shower may not be as glamorous as a freestanding tub, but it can still work well in a small bathroom. It can provide plenty of space for pampering and unrestricted movement.

An angled window opening will create a bright environment. A frosted screen can also provide privacy.

Freestanding bathtubs

Adding freestanding bathtubs to your bathroom is an excellent way to create a luxurious atmosphere. They add a sense of elegance to your space and they can help you unwind after a long day.

The tubs are available in a variety of colors and designs, but most are white. Freestanding tubs can be made from acrylic, stone, or cast iron. The material used should match the style of your bathroom. You should also consider the space available in your bathroom. You will need at least a foot of space between your wall and the tub’s basin.

If you have limited space, you may want to consider a built-in tub. A built-in tub is smaller, and usually tucked away out of the way. However, they do not make as much of a design statement as a freestanding tub.

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The bathroom is often the last room people consider renovating, which makes sense since it’s usually the smallest space in the house. With Vancouver Kitchen Renovation, you can expect a spa-like bathroom that feels luxurious and is built to last. We’ll create a custom bathroom design based on your preferences and budget and handle everything from demolition to installation.

We understand that to be successful is to stay ahead of the curve. That means staying current with the latest technology and design trends. We always want to improve our products or services without breaking the bank. That’s why we stay connected to the latest technologies of NKBA, National Kitchen and Bath Association. In addition, at Vancouver Kitchen renovation, our primary focus is providing sustainable bathroom design and renovation packages, and we believe in sustainable living. Sustainable living is a way of life in harmony with nature. It is a lifestyle which focuses on the preservation of our environment. Sustainable living is a philosophy emphasizing respect for the environment and concern for its well-being. This means we should take care of the planet and treat it as if it were our home. We should try to preserve what we have and protect it from destruction. If we do this, we will enjoy the benefits of the earth’s resources for many generations. Whether you’re planning a major remodel or adding finishing touches to your current bathroom, we’d love to discuss your project. Book your showroom consultation online.

Main Areas of Service in British Columbia:

Vancouver

North Vancouver

West Vancouver

Burnaby

Coquitlam

Squamish

Whistler

Frequently Asked Questions

What’s included in a complete renovation of a bathroom?

Depending on the client’s needs, a bathroom remodel package might include several services. Some common services that might be included are:

Bathroom design and consultation

3D rendering of bathroom design

Schluter offers waterproofing services

Services in tile setting

Delivery and supply of tiles

In-floor heating systems available for supply and installation

All plumbing and lighting fixtures are available for delivery.

All plumbing, electrical, and other work by our licensed electricians.

Supply, delivery and installation of vanity

Supply, fabrication, installation and maintenance of countertops

Tub or shower glass fabrication and installation

Demolition and removal all existing fixtures and material

Wallpaper and painting services

Can I Install A Bidet In A Small Bathroom?

A bidet can be installed in a small, enclosed bathroom. But there are a few things that you need to remember before you do this. The first thing to consider is the placement of the bidet. It should be near the toilet, but not too closely. You must ensure that the size and type chosen for your bathroom is appropriate. Make sure your bathroom has the right plumbing to accommodate a bidet. You should always consult a professional before installing a bidet within a small bathroom.

What To Consider First When You Start Planning A Bathroom Renovation?

There are many things to consider when you start planning a bathroom renovation. It is vital to determine a budget for your bathroom renovation and to adhere to it. This will ensure that the process runs smoothly and there are no unexpected costs.

Now that you have set your budget, it’s time to begin thinking about the design of your bathroom. Do you prefer something more traditional or modern? How much space will you need? These are the most important questions you need to ask before you begin any renovation.

How can my bathroom feel tranquil?

A great bathroom is a place for relaxation and reflection. It’s where we go to unwind after an intense day of activity. So why would anyone choose a space where they feel stressed out?

It’s simple, bathrooms are places that we relax. When we shower, we wash away our stresses. We clean ourselves and then brush our teeth to remove all the debris from the day.

You have many options to create a serene and tranquil bathroom while still providing all the amenities.

For example, white paint on the walls makes a room seem brighter and cleaner. White walls reflect light better, which can make rooms appear larger.

A large mirror can be used to view how you look, without the need to turn your back.

To create a calming environment, consider adding candles to the bathroom. Candles can provide warmth and safety. In addition, scented candles can encourage feelings of calmness.

Adding plants to the bathroom can also help to promote peace and tranquillity. It is known that plants can reduce stress and improve focus.

Lighting is another way of setting the mood. Either lighting can create a warm ambience. Warm lights, such as those found in candlelight, can create a tranquil environment.

When you’re next in the toilet, make sure to take some time for relaxation. After all, this is the only place where we can be completely free of the outside world.

How can I modernize my bathroom?

There are many ways to make your bathroom feel modern. A great way to create a modern bathroom design is to use simple, sleek lines. Also, you can use colors like black, grey, or white. Adding modern fixtures, like LED lighting and rain showers, will also give your space a more contemporary feel. Decluttering the bathroom and making sure everything is in its place will make your space look more clean and minimalistic.

How do you update outdated bathrooms?

Most bathroom renovations today require only a new coat of paint and some fixtures. Sometimes, even simple updates can be too much.

It may be worth it to renovate your bathroom completely. This is particularly true for homes built before 1980, where old plumbing systems often lead to leaks and water damage.

Although a total overhaul may seem daunting, it is not impossible. You can easily transform your space with some planning and preparation. Here are some tips to help you tackle this project.

A plan is the first step. It doesn’t make a difference if you hire experts or manage the whole job yourself.

You will also have to decide whether to renovate an existing space or create a brand new layout. To ensure proper drainage, if you decide to go with the latter you’ll probably need to tear down walls.

Once you have determined which direction you want, make rough floor plans. Measure each room carefully.

Next, select a color scheme. While neutral tones like black, white, gray, and brown are all popular options, they won’t always suit your home’s decor. Look for colours that match your existing decor. Warm shades, such as red, orange and yellow, can be added to a house that has a lot of wooden elements.

While choosing a palette isn’t easy, keeping your options open is essential. Be sure to give yourself plenty of time when shopping for furniture, appliances, or accessories.

Also, make sure to check the local building codes. Depending on your district or city, you may be required to obtain permits before starting any major remodel. In certain instances, you may need a permit from your municipal hall. If you are unsure of the code applicable to your area, please contact your local Building Inspection Division or call the Building Inspection Division in British Columbia. They can assist you with your particular project.

A trusted Bathroom contractor will help you choose the right course of action. They can guide you through the process and provide advice about the permits that you will need. Don’t forget about tax deductions. A tax credit may be available for those who invest in significant renovations, particularly if they are energy-efficient.

Statistics

2023 bathroom design trends: Large format tile (59%) was the most popular material for tub and shower surrounds. Slab surfaces (40%) were the next most popular (https://nkba.org)

2023 bathroom design trends: 82% of those surveyed revealed bathrooms are now designed for two-person use. (https://nkba.org)

2023 bathroom design trends: 82% of those surveyed preferred low-maintenance, nonporous surfaces for their bathroom. (https://nkba.org)

The average midrange bathroom remodels costs $27,164, according to the latest Remodeling Cost versus Value report, and it’s projected that you will recoup 58.9% of that cost when reselling your home. (architecturaldigest.com)

2023 bathroom design trends: Large format tiles were favoured by 59% of those surveyed.mSlab surfaces were favoured by 40% of those surveyed. (https://nkba.org)

2023 bathroom design trends: Digital showering allows users to program their preferred flow rate, and the temperature was a 23% preference. 44% wanted the ability to start their showers with their phones. (https://nkba.org)

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had someone call and say they have an existing old tub (which, 99% of the time, is 60” wide once they’re pulled out) and want to convert the bathtub to a shower. (blog.innovatebuildingsolutions.com)

Glass tile is one of the greenest bathroom flooring options because it can be 100% recycled. (caddetailsblog.com)

Keep in mind: they advise that, all told, your bathroom project should cost no more than 5 to 10 percent of your home’s value. (remodelista.com)

With this technology, whether you take a 5-minute or a 50-minute shower, you’ll use the same amount of water, reducing your use up to 90 percent! (elemental.green)

If possible, allow a 15 to 20% contingency fund so you’re prepared for the unexpected. (loveproperty.com)

This article will reveal more about AntiBac surfaces and how Villeroy and Boch products have 99.9% fewer bacteria. (superbath.co.uk)

External Links

bhg.com

How to paint bathroom cabinets and make a simple vanity upgrade

nkba.org

Home – NKBA

Real-World Budgeting for Bathroom Remodeling

How To

How to Design your Bathroom (DIY Project).

You need to be careful when planning a bathroom remodeling project. There are many decisions to make from selecting the right materials to hiring the best contractor. It is important to think about how long the project will last before you start any major home renovation. This will allow you to budget appropriately.

Before you begin your bathroom renovation, you should decide how long you are willing to dedicate to the project. You may want to stick to cosmetic changes if you only have a weekend or two. If you have the time and resources to tackle larger projects like replacing the tub or adding tiles,

It’s time for you to start planning once you have decided how much time your bathroom renovation will take. You can start by writing down the changes you wish to make. If you’re unsure where to start, browse magazines or look online for inspiration. Once you’ve decided what you want, it’s time to start looking at materials and comparing prices.

It is crucial to get a licensed contractor if you intend on making large-scale changes like adding a bathtub. Not only can they help with the installation, they can also give advice on what materials to use. They can help with any permits.

Before you start a bathroom renovation, make sure to take photos and measure the space. You’ll be able to reference this information as you make modifications. Be patient and take it slow. Ask for help if needed.

Add the following costs to determine the cost of your bathroom remodel:

Materials – This includes everything from paint to tiles to cabinets. These items are usually sold in bundles so you’ll need to buy them separately.

Labor – Hiring a professional contractor to perform the plumbing, electrical, and drywall installation required for a bathroom remodel is an investment that could save you thousands of dollars in future repairs. It is important to note that the price of hiring a professional contractor may vary depending on where you live or how big your project.

Other Costs. This category also includes taxes and permits. These fees are dependent on the type of renovation you do and where you live.

Remember that your home’s value will affect the cost of your bathroom remodel. If you intend on selling your house soon you will need to ensure that the renovations make the property more valuable. Get a free estimate from a real estate agent to see how much your bathroom remodeling could increase your home’s value.

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[verpuerto]

Bathroom in Boston Mid-sized ornate master marble floor and white floor freestanding bathtub photo with blue walls