#sink mounted towel bar

[sykesassist]

Contemporary Powder Room - Powder Room Example of a trendy dark wood floor powder room design with a wall-mount sink and gray walls

[turkeynotalone]

Boston Bathroom Mid-sized Scandinavian master bathroom design with white walls, a flat-panel sink, white cabinets, quartz countertops, an undermount tub, and blue tile and ceramic tile flooring.

[thetwinsofevil]

Powder Room in San Francisco

[hotspothutspot]

San Francisco Bathroom Powder Room

[blueywrites]

Where you and Steve swing with Eddie and Chrissy, and it gets complicated.

TO KNOW YOU'RE MINE (modern!swingers!au) (18+ only)

eddie munson x chrissy cunningham x steve harrington x you

fem!reader, chubby!reader, minimal use of y/n, body insecurity, swingers, smut, fingering (v), p in v, praise kink, emotional sex, angst, hurt no comfort (there will be a happy ending!)

chapter seven : entombed (18k) | playlist | AO3 | next

🎵 in this au, deftones=corroded coffin. the playlist is a combination of R's sad girl music vibes and some foreshadowing. the song for this chapter is #24.

From the day you arrived

I've remained by your side

In chains

Entombed

Entombed — Deftones

The bathroom countertop is solid white. The sink is recessed, and the faucet is modern and angular, reflected in the tall mirror mounted to the wall behind it. The mirror also reflects the shower behind you. It has a glass front, and the walls are comprised of large white and gray marblesque tiles. The fixtures— the rainfall showerhead, drain, shower knob, and handle— are all chrome to match the sink faucet and the modern, conical lights that frame the mirror. 

It's bright inside the bathroom. The lightbulbs are LED, cool-toned, and the wall lights are joined by discs recessed into the ceiling. Even the smooth wooden vanity beneath the countertop is light birch, and on the lowest shelf near your ankle, two fluffy white hand towels are still folded, as yet unused. The bathroom is radiant and clean. Perfect for a beach location. Plenty of light for preparing for a fun night out. 

No dark corners to hide in.

There's another, smaller mirror on the countertop. It's curved, meant to magnify and assist in the even application of makeup. A neat row of tiny bottles lines a narrow tray on the other side of the sink: hand lotion, shampoo, conditioner, then mouthwash. In another dish, a creamy bar of hand soap has already been revealed. Its discarded wrapper is in the small trashcan near the toilet. 

The thin door is a buffer between yourself and the indistinct murmur of voices outside. The murmuring is audible, but the words are indiscernible. When that murmuring is buried underneath smooth R&B that begins playing on the other side of the door, you finally meet your gaze in the mirror.

Your cheeks glow with a healthy flush. The milk and honey of your satin dress hugs your curves, dipping low to reveal ample cleavage, slitted high to expose a supple thigh. The sweat from the club has dried now in the cool air of the room where you've been hiding. 

You've examined every feature of this hotel bathroom to distract yourself from the overwhelming wave of mixed emotions you've been battling since the Uber ride back from the club. In the backseat, a khaki thigh pressing to yours; soft, broad fingers played in your hair. On his other side, a flash of orange and powdery soft giggles; arms intertwining, porcelain and tan. In front of you, an angular shoulder shifting with the car's turns, peeking beyond the passenger seat; a splay of dark curls against the white fabric. Just four tipsy friends sharing a ride back to their hotel room after a fun night out vacationing in a tropical city. Outside, your lips were curved in an idle smile. Inside, the tide of your emotions threatened to pull you under.

The intensity of the night's moments between you and Eddie— kissing him in the middle of the crowded dance floor, holding his gaze during the fireworks show— hadn't faded. You felt raw, like an exposed nerve; your green searched for him even with Steve's warm side brushing against yours. But the trepidation had returned, resurging as you'd imagined what your play tonight would look like. Because when you'd pictured Chrissy touching Eddie, you'd felt a sour pinch of jealousy, a hint of possessiveness you aren't entitled to. And because, when you'd pictured yourself kissing Steve, you'd felt a twinge of impatience. As if tonight he would be an obstacle keeping you from what you really want. 

You've been oozing with thick, sticky guilt since you'd thought it.

You can't deny that your remaining guilt isn't the only reason you're still hiding in the bathroom. You're also hesitant to emerge and find yourself thrust into one of those scenarios you'd imagined, knowing that your green will tremble restlessly until it finds the light in brown eyes and the charcoal that nourish it. Still, when the murmurs muffling through the thin door finally subside into silence, and all you can hear is the smooth, rhythmic R&B beat left behind, you know you need to finally face the music, so to speak.

Tentative fingers push open the bathroom door from the inside, and your eyes are drawn automatically to movement on the bed furthest from the balcony— Chrissy and Eddie's bed. But Chrissy's soft porcelain doesn't glide against pale quartz; her blonde hair doesn't drag down an inky chest. Instead, her dainty fingers are tangled in disheveled waves, and her pink bow lips are being devoured by your boyfriend's hungry kisses. You note absently that their orange and khaki are gone, leaving their skin entirely bare. As you watch them for a moment, you note that Steve and Chrissy seem frenzied with hot insistence tonight, more so than usual. Maybe they got worked up dancing, too. The thought is almost entirely dispassionate.

You turn your gaze to the other bed, eyes finding beautiful brown so quickly it almost feels like instinct.

Eddie is sitting on the edge, elbows braced on his knees, legs splayed wide, feet planted on the floor. His hands hang in the space between. Just like you, he's still fully dressed aside from his shoes. The white of his shirt pulls taut across his shoulders, and his dark curls spill over one shoulder, still tied back to reveal the cords of his neck, the angular shadow of his jaw, and the glint of silver hanging from his earlobes. His face is blank aside from the intensity of his eyes, which follow you as you softly pad closer until you're standing before him. 

Eddie's body doesn't move aside from a slight shifting of his hands to make room for you between his knees, but his face tilts up to continue watching as you approach, expression unreadable. There's a tension between you which is nearly unnerving as Eddie stares without reaching for you, without smiling, almost without reacting at all. But you don't feel rejected by his stoicism. Instead, you reach out first, running your fingertips over the edge of his cheekbone, feathering lightly down his cheek. When his face lists just slightly into your touch, it emboldens you, and you let your thumb drag against the plump pink of Eddie's bottom lip in a soft caress.

You feel it then— the first reaction you pull from him. It's the subtle pursing of his full lips, the press of a gentle kiss against the pad of your thumb. Poignant longing flutters low inside you; wings quiver along with the green of your leaves. You cup Eddie’s face more fully, and a tremulous sigh falls from your lips when you feel the rasp of his fingertips along the satin at the back of your thighs. His touch is slight, but his rough calluses catch on the fabric, which drags like liquid against your skin before falling as his hands leave your legs to skim your hips. 

After a moment of exploration, his warm palms settle there, and Eddie applies light pressure so you'll step back and give him room to rise. He towers before you, predatory angles softened by the gentleness of his fingers as they feel for the tiny zipper at the back of your dress. Your eyes don't leave his as the fabric slowly parts along your spine down to the small of your back. You peel the thin straps down your arms, helping him remove milk and honey to reveal your bare breasts and the apex of your thighs covered by delicate lace. 

You're content to let the fabric pool around your ankles, but as you step out of it, Eddie picks your dress up for you, laying it across the nearby dresser with a sense of care he never shows his own clothing. A fond smile tilts your lips as you unbutton his shirt, and Eddie helps you undress him down to his checkered boxers.

Eddie's body feels more rigid than usual as he guides you onto the bed. There's an intentness to his actions now as he settles on top of you, a latent power in the coil of his muscles. When your hands run lightly over his shoulders and biceps, you think he seems tense. It makes you wonder if something is bothering him, if maybe he's changed his mind or is thinking about something else. You're frowning a little worriedly by the time Eddie wedges his hand under the nape of your neck, cupping your head firmly; his face hovers over yours as your eyes dart unsurely between his. The hush, the tension remains as his gaze draws slowly over your face until you're nearly squirming with the need to know what he's thinking. The music filling the room is loud and unrelenting, but with Eddie's quiet voice so close to your lips, you hear every word when he finally speaks.

"I need you to know—" your brow pinches at the seriousness of his voice, "—that everything about you is so incredibly beautiful. And I can't get enough of you." 

It steals your breath entirely. And then Eddie's lips capture yours.

You burst with wild flutters, nearly dizzy as your hands clutch his jaw, kissing him desperately back. You pour all of yourself into Eddie as his mouth opens against yours, and you feel his smoke flow down into you, filling you with rich and heady feeling as he holds you close. Seeking tongues, hot breath; needy whimpers fall as you taste each other, writhe against each other's bodies. You press up into his hardness as your legs cradle his hips, and he bears down on you in return, grinding into your softness. He trails scorching kisses down the side of your neck, intent on his path down to your chest. Eddie nips your skin on the way, teeth teasing as you gasp out your pleasure; your breath shudders as he mouths at the swell of your breast. Your fingers seek his curls, tucking in near his scalp as his tongue laves at your pert nipple before his lips close over it. He sucks firmly, eyes flicking to yours to watch as your lips fall open. The warm wet suction of his mouth sparks straight to your pussy, and your hips squirm beneath his weight as you begin to throb between your legs. 

Eddie's hair looks sexy in a ponytail, but you miss the rugged beauty of his dark curls, the way they frame both of your faces when he kisses you, concealing you from the world. Carefully, you guide the elastic band from his hair, letting that wild mass fall free around his shoulders. You bury your fingers in his curls and tug at the root, wanting to make him hum against your breast. And he does— a low, delicious sound that stokes the cinders of your arousal. 

When your hips press up seekingly again, Eddie draws his face slowly back, tugging your hardened nipple with him until it finally pops from his mouth. You gasp again at the feeling, the sound all feminine need, eyes still captured by his heated gaze; a corner of his lips quirks as he switches to your other breast, tongue lashing your flesh until you're flushed, whimpering, hips aching with the desire for him to touch you where you burn for it most. A whispered word, barely more than a breath as it leaves your lips: "Please—"

It's so quiet, your plea, but Eddie seems to hear it. Or maybe he just senses your desperation in how your hips are rolling against him, yearning for friction. Either way, ever so kind, Eddie obliges you.

You feel the rasp of his fingertips against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, low near your knee; the promise of his touch is enough to have you sighing with relief even before he's come close to your heat. You know he'll give you what you want— you know it with the certainty of spring, of new growth and awakening, of wings that emerge from a soft cocoon after a long period of metamorphosis. Sure enough, his hand travels up your leg, kneading the dough of your thigh as you wiggle down lower on the bed so that his face is above yours again. He drapes himself half over you, bracing some of his weight on one forearm. And as his fingers finally rub you over lace, you tilt your chin to join your lips again.

As you kiss him, you relish each detail of the way Eddie's body feels against yours— his warmth enveloping you, his smoke and apples scent in your nose, his belly pressing into yours, expanding with every breath. You drag your calf along the back of his, and you even relish the rasp of his sparse leg hair against your skin, rubbing slowly as you devote your affection to his upper lip. Eddie's kisses are just as intent as before but less frantic now as he pushes lace aside to find the honey at the center of you. You hum, brow pinching in pleasure as his ring and middle fingers sink eagerly into your pussy. 

Eddie takes his time, fingering you thoroughly to ensure you're ready to take him. He repeats his process over and over, patiently working you up: pressing in, stroking, drawing out your slick, and circling your clit before dipping down again. The way Eddie stretches you open is not slow or hesitant, but his attentiveness has you enjoying it all, down to the sting of his fingers as they stretch you. Even then, that sting fades quickly, leaving behind a sweet swell of steadily building pleasure which grows hotter with each shift of his dextrous hand.

You hike your leg a little higher up his hip, nudging your nose against his as you communicate your increasing desire through more sweltering kisses. And the next time Eddie's fingers sink inside you, he keeps them deep. He ruts in, pinky and index jutting against the outside of your slick lips as he works that soft spot on your front wall until you're panting and squirming with want. A small flame is growing low in your belly— a burning need for him to press you to the mattress with his weight, to drive his cock as deep inside you as he can. A whisper of a whine builds in your throat until it comes out in a soft needy noise muffled into his mouth. When he hears it, Eddie breaks your kiss but doesn't retreat far. 

"Eddie," you whimper against his lips, cheeks flushed, brow pinched, voice whiny and nearly pathetic. But you don't feel ashamed of your need when you see the richness of Eddie's brown eyes, how they're burnished to deep amber with his desire for you. 

He husks a quiet question, breath a warm caress against your lips. "Are you ready for me?" 

A thrill pulses through you at the anticipation of his cock inside you, and as you squeeze around his fingers, you watch Eddie's brows jump. There is no hesitation in your answer. 

“Yes,” you tell him. 

He pulls his fingers out, and his hand settles on the wideness of your hip. And when his wet fingers mould into your flesh, you expect him to encourage you down to the mattress so he can lay fully on top of you. But instead, he pulls you in, pulls you closer, tilting your pelvis and pressing his forward so that his hot length is sandwiched between you. His fingers drag to the small of your back, and the way he holds you against him isn't insistent. It's gentle. Tender. 

Eddie asks you another question— inflection the same as the previous, neutral like a second check-in. "You want me?"

Though his voice is no different than it had been, the question gives you pause. And as your eyes flick between his searchingly, you see it— a hint of something approaching defenselessness. Something that, though his irises are still thoroughly amber brown, reminds you of delicate pink. 

You swallow, throat suddenly thick; your body presses instinctually closer as you hold his gaze and answer him. "I want you, Eddie."

And with your quiet assurance, that something behind his eyes shifts. You can feel his voice, thick and heady like smoke, rumble through his chest and into yours. "And I want you, y/n."

The first stretch is always delicious, no matter how much Eddie has fingered you beforehand or how many times you experience it. That moment he presses his blunt head against your entrance and eases in, sliding hard and hot and so thick along your walls… it never fails to leave you quivering with its intensity. It's always incredible, but this time, when Eddie's weight covers you, and you bend your legs, holding him close as he presses steadily deeper until he's seated fully inside, there's something loaded about it. Because the bed you're in— it's motionless aside from the slow rocking of Eddie's hips into yours as he begins to move. It's quiet aside from the hush of Eddie's breath along your cheek, the sound of his little moans muffled against your neck when he buries his face there, moving so slowly inside you like he's savoring the moment. And you're savoring the moment, too, closing your eyes to focus on all the sensations: the whisper of Eddie's curls against your clavicle; his firm musculature under your hands as you run them over the planes of his back; the tender rasp of his calloused fingers as he draws them up your side, caressing your soft skin; the satisfied hum that rumbles against your throat when you move your hips in tandem with his slow, sensual rhythm. For the first time since that very first time— when Eddie went down on you on the big couch— Steve and Chrissy are having sex across the room instead of right beside you. And, frankly, they might as well be on a different planet entirely. Because whatever your boyfriend is doing? It hasn't crossed your mind since the moment you opened the bathroom door and met Eddie's beautiful brown eyes.

The slow drag of Eddie's thickness inside you keeps that small flame flickering, filling you with warmth as you sigh contentedly against his curls. He lifts his head when he hears you, and his hand finds your jaw to tip your head back so he can nibble just underneath your chin. "Mmm—" You drag your teeth against your bottom lip as his mouth sparks heat along your skin. It adds to your burn, and your hips press up into him a little harder, silently encouraging him to move faster.

But Eddie doesn't move faster, though he also doesn't ignore your coaxing; instead, he trails kisses up to the corner of your mouth, murmuring a hair's breadth from your lips when he gets there. "Will you do something for me?" he asks.

Your answer pops out in an automatic sigh. "Anything." 

When you feel the little fond huff from Eddie's nose puff against your skin, your eyes flutter open, and you see those full pink lips pull into a small smile before he kisses you. You lean into it, chin angling to chase him when he pulls away; you’re nearly pouting as he withdraws from your lips. His thumb drags fondly against your jaw, mollifying you as you await his request. You said it— anything— and you meant it, but you aren't expecting what Eddie calmly asks of you as he holds your gaze. 

“Touch yourself.”

You blink, eyes widening as your hips still beneath him in surprise and hesitance. This is the first time Eddie has ever suggested such a thing, and it isn't something you've ever done with Steve, either. You'd always had the impression that guys would think they weren't doing a good enough job getting you off if you did that while having sex with them. You can't help but blurt, "A-are you sure?" You nearly cringe at the tentativeness in your voice.

Eddie doesn't judge you— he never does— but you do read some incredulity in his expression as he strokes back your hair, smoothing his fingers along the strands that fan against the smooth sheets near your ear. "Of course, I'm sure," he replies. "I want you to feel good, sweetheart."

Your hesitance melts away with the earnestness of his reply, replaced by a low flutter as Eddie voices that he wants you to feel good. Of course, you know he does, but it's one thing to know it and quite another to hear him say it with that smoky voice, with his pretty face hovering so close, with his cock hot and hard inside you. You nod, eyes lighting as you see him smile broadly at your approval. "Gimme your hand," he says, and when you offer it to him, he sucks the tip of your index finger between his lips, tongue brushing like a hot flash before he's pulling away. 

Your finger is slick with his spit as you reach between you, and Eddie braces on his forearms, lifting slightly to give you room to wedge your hand down near your heat. You maneuver together into a position that works— Eddie hovering over you, one of your legs hiked up on his hip and the other slack and bent against the mattress as you search for your clit until you find it. The back of your hand nudges against the nest of his dark curls as you begin to press circles into that squishy bead, pleasure sparking with each pass. "That's it," Eddie breathes, and then he's moving again.

The rhythm he resumes is less languid than before, hips rolling in time with your strokes against your clit. You aren’t sure if you're timing your movements with his, or he with yours— it's impossible to tell, but the effect is the same. You rock into him, brow pinching slightly as your head falls to the side, breathy moans falling loosely from your lips as the burn in your belly begins to increase with both of your efforts. He takes your bared throat as an opportunity, and his face fits there against the juncture of your neck as if it's always been meant to. Eddie's nose bobs against your throat as he starts to really fuck into you, hips impacting your thighs faster, harder, with fleshy slaps you can hear over the room's music. And as he does, you can feel the increase of his fervor, the evidence of his pleasure— his breath huffing against your skin, his little rumbling moans, always so vocal, sounds never truly suppressed. And then his fingers are lightly pinching the shell of your ear, drawing down to the lobe in a tender caress seemingly at odds with how he's fucking you.

It makes you flutter with tremulous wings. It makes you melt into a smoldering burn. 

It makes your green quiver and bloom.

Eddie lifts his head to murmur against your cheek. "Does it feel good, pretty girl?"

You breathe in the smoke, pleasure licking higher. "Yes, it's—" you break off in a breathy moan, and Eddie nudges fondly against your cheek with his nose, lips trailing featherlight against your skin. "It's really good," you finish your sentence, voice shakier, huskier with desire.

You bite your lip as Eddie responds to your praise, one hand wedging again under the back of your neck so he can hold you closer, hips moving a little faster now. You find yourself focused on the feeling of his thick cock reaching deep as you adjust to his new pace. And as focused as you are, you don't notice that your hand slows, fingers stalling between your bodies. 

Yet Eddie must notice because his face is now hovering over yours again, expression coaxing. "Keep rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart." Your fingers jolt immediately into action, pressing quick circles into your now-swollen bud, knuckles dragging against the wiry hair near the base of his cock. "That's it, good girl," Eddie husks, warm with approval. You want to keep hearing his voice— you want it just as much as you want him never to stop holding you as close as he is now, moving with you the way he's doing now.

"I like it when you talk to me," you tell him, voice high and needy with feminine hoarseness. His brown eyes burnish further, full pink lips quirking in a tilted grin, and you can't help but smile back when you see the light behind his gaze.

He touches your face, but where you expect the rasp of his callouses, you feel the smooth drag of his nails instead as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. "I know," Eddie murmurs. "I know you do, sweet girl."

You rub your clit as Eddie fucks you and tells you he knows what you like. "I like talking to you, too," you tell him, pink tongue darting out to swipe at his lips. You want him to know. "You feel so good inside me, Eddie."

He exhales harshly at that, brow twitching up as he stares down at you, gaze locked on your eyes. "Fuck." His voice is deeper, huskier now, and you feel a thrill at his reaction, one that jolts straight down to tighten in your belly. "You look so fuckin' gorgeous takin' my cock. Doin' so well."

Flutter, smolder, burn, bloom. Eddie's praise increases your pleasure, and that quiver inside tightens even further. You want to answer, but all that comes out is a gasp as he thrusts against a spot inside you that makes your toes suddenly curl. "Oh, mmm—" Your voice sounds tight and high, almost unlike you, as you hear it spill involuntarily from your lips.

Eddie is panting now, and your thighs tighten against his hips as you lift both legs, hand pressed tight between your pelvises as your fingers swipe back and forth. "You want it harder?" he asks, sounding determined, if not a little breathless. "You want me to fuck you harder?"

Anything to feel him hit that spot again. "Yes," you moan instantly, "yes, please—" 

He groans as you beg, deepening his thrusts. But he doesn't just fuck you harder. Eddie adjusts you in his grip, and you feel his muscles tense as he leans over on one forearm to hook the other hand behind your knee and pull your leg up higher on his hip. It presses your hand tighter between you, but you don't care— you're rubbing with the flat of your fingers now, your other hand soothing across his flexed bicep, damp with sweat from his effort. He changes the angle of his hips minutely, and his thick length probes inside you as if searching, seeking for something—

A sudden flare of white-hot pleasure makes you gasp sharply; your back arches as your head tips back against the sheets. Eddie stops his searching, holding you firmly as he thrusts again at the same angle, breath huffing in a delighted chuckle when you whimper as pleasure flares bright for a second time. He sounds nearly ragged but entirely pleased when he asks you, "That's it, huh? That's the spot?"

You're so quick to assure him you're nearly babbling. "Yeah, don't— don't stop, please, don't stop, right there—" You hum desperately as he fucks into you again, fast and hard, intent now that he's found that sweet spot that makes you quiver with pleasure. And you are quivering— muscles shaking, heart pounding, breath shuddering as the flame of your arousal catches to a wildfire.

"Fuck yes," Eddie groans, tight with effort but oh, so satisfied. "That's it, sweetheart. I can feel you; you're gonna soak my dick." He's barely pulling out now, nothing more than an inch, just rutting in against that same spot over and over and over— 

Your breath hitches, hiccuping in your chest; tears sting the corners of your eyes as the fire in your belly builds so quickly, tingly and aching and hot. It's that familiar feeling, but far more intense than it's ever been, almost frighteningly so.

"Eddie—?" your soft cry of his name sounds so helpless, wanting but nearly afraid. 

"Hold onto me," he tells you hoarsely; his fingers tighten against the nape of your neck, cupping you supportively. 

You wrap your free arm around his shoulders, clinging to him as he ruts into your wet heat, pounding you evenly despite the harshness of his breath and the trembling of his muscles that reveal his fatigue. But Eddie doesn't relent. He never stops, not when you wrench your other arm from between you to clutch at his shoulders with both hands, not even when you dig your nails into the meat of his back. You no longer care about rubbing your clit as your fire burns impossibly higher, as the pleasure spreads tingly and tight up to your navel. Because you know, with a certainty that you've never felt before having sex, that it doesn't matter whether or not you're touching yourself. You know that Eddie is going to get you there.

You whine pathetically, holding him tightly, following his instruction. "Eddie," you moan all wobbly, betraying the way you're teetering on the edge. "E-Eddie, I'm—" 

You break off in a desperate whimper, that spreading, tingling ache so overwhelming that you can't move, can't think, can't really speak. But you can hear, and Eddie sounds nearly desperate himself as his cheek drags against yours, smoke voice rasping reassurance in your ear. "It's okay— It's okay, y/n, just let go. I've got you—"

“Eddie—!”

You gasp a dry sob and keen his name as you cum.

The feeling that breaks over you as Eddie makes you cum is one you've never experienced before. You've only ever brought yourself to completion with your fingers or a vibrator. You've never orgasmed while having sex with a partner— never been cradled in a full-bodied embrace as the tension snaps inside you, flooding you with sweet, euphoric release that races along your every nerve. You'd float away if Eddie wasn't pinning you to the bed with his reassuring weight, digging his nose into your cheek as he holds you close, panting raggedly in your ear as you go rigid beneath him, pussy pulsing tight around his thick cock. "Holy—" he whimpers, not unaffected as you begin to squirm and writhe with the force of your orgasm, as if your body is unsure whether it wants to escape the intensity of the feeling or crawl closer, begging for it to last forever. And throughout it all, Eddie's hips coax you through, moving slow and tender as your nails dig little half-moons into his skin, as your lips tremble with small choked sounds of pleasure, as that tingling fire rushes hot through your body until it leaves you a melty, quivering mess beneath him, gasping desperate breaths.

As the tension in your limbs finally eases, they slump bonelessly in relief. Your arms remain draped loosely over Eddie's shoulders, and your legs fall open as your pleasure subsides into a lingering warmth. You feel floaty in the best way. Not like before, when you felt you could drift up through the ceiling and be dashed away, untethered from the earth. More like wading into warm sea water, bobbing in gentle waves that swirl your hair soft against your cheeks. Trusting, knowing you'll be kept afloat. At peace.

You feel Eddie's plush lips at the corner of your eye as he turns his head, kissing you softly. And then, as he sighs your name, the movement of Eddie's hips— that steady, even rhythm he'd maintained throughout your orgasm— begins to slow. 

At first, you think maybe he already came, but he's still stiff, still thick and unyielding inside you. A little wrinkle forms between your brows. You ask him softly, "Did you—?"

He stops moving, then. "Not yet," he answers just as softly. No disappointment in his voice— no expectation, nothing but tenderness. You flutter, green quivering as you push your hips into him, drawing him deeper inside you to keep him from retreating. 

Eddie lifts his head, brows tugged up in concern. "You're not too sensitive?"

"No, no, keep going," you answer quickly, thick like honey at his concern. "I want you to cum, too." And to punctuate your point, you bury your fingers in the damp curls at the nape of his neck, cupping his skull with both hands as you pull him to your lips. You encourage him with deep, languid kisses, rolling your hips until he responds. He pushes into you carefully at first, but when you hum, pleased to feel him respond, he gradually increases his pace until he's fucking into you again.

You break from the kiss, panting against his jaw as you tug at his hair to tilt his head back, pulling a grunt from deep in his throat. You nip at his strong jaw, teeth and tongue and lips working at his skin, and he snaps his hips into you in response, flesh smacking again as he fucks you harder, faster. "Mmm—" you moan against his throat, wanting more of his fervor, wanting to give him the same thing he'd given you. You kitten-lick the salt of his neck, scratching at his scalp as you ease your grip on his hair. "Yeah, Eddie, fuck me 'til you cum," you whine quietly against his chin, gratified when he groans deep in his chest.

"Fuck, sweet girl—" He breaks off in a hoarse hum, and you loosen your grip further to let him tip his chin down to look at you. Your eyes rove eagerly over his face, taking him in: plush lips now swollen and flushed deep pink thanks to your kisses; eyes hazy and dark from desire, pupils blown wide, nearly swallowing the brown; pale quartz skin dewy from effort, flushed high on his cheekbones; ink-dark curls sweat-damp and wild and captivating as they stick to his forehead and sway around his face. 

He's beautiful, you realize. Eddie is so beautiful.

"Where should I—?" he asks tightly, and the urgency of the question tells you he's close. "You want me on your stomach? On your tits?"

As soon as he asks, you know what you want.

"No, I—" You duck close and dig your nose into his throat, hesitating. "I wanna…" Though you know with absolute certainty what you want to say, your request sticks on your tongue, clinging stubbornly. 

"Tell me," Eddie encourages you, and you swallow thickly, heart racing as you push the words out in a tremulous whisper.

"I… I wanna feel you again." You will him to understand despite your indirectness. 

It takes a second, but you watch Eddie's eyes go wide, watch his brows flick, watch the way his face slackens with sudden clarity. "You want it—" His adam's apple bobs with a thick swallow before he ducks his head, lips against your ear. There's a pause before he mutters quietly, "I'm not supposed to." 

He sounds halting. Regretful. Like he doesn't want to deny you, sure. But more than that. Because, though you both know what happened last time, Eddie sounds like he wants it, too. Like he wants it just as much as you do.

And you know it's breaking the rules, but frankly, in this moment, all you feel are those fluttering moth's wings and the stretch of your green, the way it's reaching up to twine its first tendrils around your ribs. You don't feel any trepidation, or fear, or oozing guilt. As the green spreads, small white flowers blooming in its wake, the words surge up from the bottom of you.

"I don't care," you hiccup, admission nearly a whimper. "I don't care, just— please, Eddie, I want your cum in me—" 

"Jesus— fuck," Eddie yelps. His hips stutter, losing their even rhythm as his pace turns frenetic. And as you feel his cock twitch inside you, as you feel him start to approach his completion, that poignant yearning wells up in you again, quivering, fluttering with the knowledge of his pleasure, the pleasure you're giving him.

"Eddie," you sigh, tightening one arm around his shoulders and cupping the back of his head with your other hand. You press his face to your hair as he whimpers, panting hot against your skin; you hold him close as his hips rut into you, shuddering a breath as you feel him tense. "Give it to me, Eddie," you whisper, and as Eddie's cock jerks hard, you feel the moment he starts to cum inside you. 

You feel everything.

It isn't like the first time when you were on top. This time, it isn't a surprise when Eddie's hips press tight to yours, when he starts to moan, tight and high, muffling the sound against your sticky neck. It isn't a surprise when you feel the warm flood of his seed fill you. And though you can't see Eddie's face, being able to hold him close while he tenses and shivers with his pleasure is just as good. It's wonderful in a different way.

When his shuddering finally subsides, you wrap your legs around the small of his back, encouraging him to lay on you. And Eddie must be exhausted because he does— he rests fully on you, letting you hold him as his heart beats wildly against your breast. He just lays there and breathes, great panting breaths of exertion and release that puff warm against your skin. It's hot, and damp, and you're sticking to him everywhere, but you couldn't care less. You run your hands softly over the planes of his back, humming when you feel him nuzzle you with his nose. You continue caressing him slowly as he recovers his energy, still buried inside you. As the moment stretches on, you find yourself wishing you could exist here forever— here, in this place where you're holding Eddie, and he's holding you, languid and spent, entirely at peace from the pleasure you've given each other.

Eventually, Eddie shifts on top of you, and you feel a flash of dismay that he's about to get off you. But he's just propping himself up on an elbow to hover over you again. You feel his thumb stroke featherlight along your cheekbone, and your eyes go soft at how Eddie kisses you so carefully. You melt into his kiss, into the light caress of his calloused fingers against your cheek and jaw as he smoothes your hair against the sheets again. 

When he breaks the kiss, Eddie's brown eyes dart between yours. "Was that good for you?" He asks, and the earnestness in his voice, in his face… 

You didn't know you could flutter and bloom more than you already have, but here you are.

"Yeah," you reply, voice tiny and nearly cracked with the strength of your emotion. "Yeah, so good, Eddie. Thank you." And all of a sudden, the sting at the corner of your eyes returns so insistently that before you know it, the first tear has fallen. 

Your bottom lip quivers as you blink, another tear quickly following. Your brow crinkles with confusion, self-consciousness already beginning to tighten in your sternum. "I-I'm sorry," you stammer, shoulders pulling up towards your ears as Eddie watches you with those dark eyes. "I don't know why I'm crying—"

But Eddie shakes his head, smiling tenderly down at you. "Don't be sorry, y/n," he murmurs, smoke voice rich and heady and soothing as he repeats your words from the club back to him— what you'd told him when he apologized for breaking the first rule with you that night. 

Don't be sorry. Don't be ashamed.

Those dark eyes are shining, bright with light that radiates from within him. There's a gentleness there, a gentleness that spreads over the tops of his cheeks. That hint of pink on black and white. And you don't know why you're crying, but you know you're not sad; and when you realize that Eddie knows it too, your self-consciousness eases, and you just relax and let your tears fall.

Eddie doesn't try to quiet you or tell you to stop. He doesn't tell you that you're okay and you don't need to cry. Instead, he wipes your tears patiently with calloused thumbs. He presses tender kisses to your lips and your wet cheeks. Eddie holds you as you cry. And as he does, your leaves soak in his light, roots coveting his rich charcoal. Your petals spread, opening their faces, unafraid of being perceived. And there's something more. As the tendrils anchor around your ribs, vining snug against that supportive trellis, small fruit begins to appear— tiny bunches of green, immature and firm, sprouting abundantly along your growth.

As your tears subside, you sniffle and cup Eddie's cheek, leaning up for a firm kiss. You pour into it, hoping it can convey some of the tenderness you feel for him. Because you want him to know. You want Eddie to know how much you—

The bed across the room creaks loudly then, and you startle, breaking from Eddie's lips as you realize the R&B music must have ended some time ago. The sound of a bed creaking— a bed that isn't the one you're laying on— sends you crashing back into reality. It strikes you suddenly where you are: in a hotel room in Miami, Florida, on vacation with your boyfriend, Steve, your friend, Chrissy, and your friend's boyfriend, Eddie, with whom you've just had the best sex of your life. 

On some level, you can admit to yourself that it's not shocking the best sex you've ever had was with Eddie. But what is shocking is that you'd been so caught up in being with him that you'd entirely forgotten that Steve and Chrissy had been across the room the entire time, just a half-dozen feet away.

You're suddenly aware of them again, but your eyes haven't left Eddie's. And though he hasn't looked away either, you can see in the way he blinks and his vision seems to flicker that he's just gained the same awareness. He's still half-hard inside you, but his stiffness is flagging now; carefully, Eddie pulls out, saying quickly, "Wait there, I'll get you a towel." 

You nod, and before he gets up, you feel his thumb drag fondly against your cheek one last time— a hasty little swipe, like he couldn't help but steal one more touch before he leaves you. You bend your legs, angling your hips to try to keep his cum from staining the sheets. You press the back of your hands against your warm cheeks, taking a slow breath and letting it out, gazing at the blank ceiling as you wait for Eddie to return. You hear his footsteps hastening out of the bathroom, heading for the side of your bed, but they halt when a crisp voice cuts suddenly through the silence.

"I got it," the voice says, smooth and even. "She needs you."

 You lift your head, eyes darting to the two men near the foot of your bed. Both are naked. One is pale and hesitant as his gaze flicks restlessly between everyone else in the room. The other is tan, arms crossed as he stands between your bed and his friend. You watch Eddie swallow as his eyes meet Steve's even stare, and then he's moving toward the other bed, away from you. Steve watches him go, and you glance over at Eddie's destination to see Chrissy lounging against the rumpled sheets, waves of silky blonde hair splayed against her pillow, a dainty hand cupped against her lower stomach to prevent Steve's release from spilling before it can be cleared away. 

You register a presence near your feet, eyes catching on hazel and touseled waves as Steve stares down at you impassively. With instant clarity, you can see yourself through his eyes— the juncture of your thighs sticky with Eddie's warm cum, your eyes wet with tears, your cheeks slowly flushing with the evidence of your thick, oozing guilt. And you feel something else: the thrum of deep shame, prickling like thousands of tiny needles, racing through your veins in time with your heart.

Suddenly, you can't breathe.

You have enough presence of mind to cup a hand over yourself to contain the mess as you scramble from the bed, dismounting near the sliding glass door opposite where Steve is standing. It brings you closer to your open suitcase— a small blessing, as you snatch an oversized t-shirt with your unoccupied hand before making a hasty retreat into the safety of the bathroom again. 

You suck in a shaky breath, heart stuttering in your chest as you puff your cheeks and let it out slowly, leaning against the light wood of the closed bathroom door. Guilt, shame, trepidation— they all resurge stronger than ever as you realize what you and Eddie have done. 

You'd broken the rules again, and this time, it hadn't been an accident. You'd chosen it. You'd wanted it. In the heat of the moment, you hadn't cared about the consequences, but now, as you wad up toilet paper and yank it from the roll, you feel the prickle of hot shame racing as you wipe the evidence of your betrayal from between your legs. You drop the ruined tissue into the toilet, yanking and wiping and yanking and wiping as if your guilt is a physical stain, and if you rub yourself raw, you can cleanse it from your flesh.

But your guilt is inside you, and so is your shame. Hot, prickling, thick, and oozy, shame and guilt coat your stomach, making you feel nearly ill as you consider your selfishness. You think of Steve's impassive face, knowing instinctively that it must have been a mask concealing how he truly felt. You think of what Chrissy will feel when she realizes that Eddie has cum inside you again, heart skipping and thudding at the sudden, horrifying thought that she may have overheard you asking for it. That she or Steve might know how much you wanted it. 

How much you loved it.

Hot tears leak from your eyes, and you wipe them away silently as you flush the evidence of your betrayal. You're still swiping them from your blurred vision as you watch the water swirl.

You're dreading emerging from this oasis with its light wood cabinets and its marblesque tiles even more now than you were earlier tonight. You delay it as long as possible— pulling on your oversized t-shirt, washing your makeup away, brushing your teeth, wishing you had thought to grab a pair of underwear, though at least the shirt covers your ass with a couple of inches to spare. You feel exposed and vulnerable, and you know it has everything to do with the thought of facing Steve when you get out of here. You don't want to endure his reaction but feel selfish for even thinking that. However he responds to what I've done is what I deserve, and I need to accept that.

The bathroom door creaks open into peaceful silence. You peek carefully through the crack, eyeing Steve where he's reclining against the pillows lining the headboard, the side of his face illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp as he scrolls on his phone. As you emerge from the bathroom with tentative steps, Chrissy's hand finds the thin wood of the door, and you startle, nearly jumping as she appears suddenly in front of you.

"Done in there?" Her blue eyes are shiny and bright, and her voice sounds just as perky as it always does. 

"Uh…" Your gaze darts from her to Eddie, who's hovering just behind her, brown eyes wide, full mouth pressed into a long line of bemusement as he stares back at you. "Um, yeah," you say, trying to fix your face into a neutral expression, though you fear it's probably all creased up with guilt and shame.

Chrissy doesn't seem to notice. "'Kay!" she says, flashing a bright grin at you as you sidestep so she can shimmy by you into the bathroom. When Eddie merely stands there, hands hanging limply at his sides as he stares at you, she glances back. "C'mon, Eddie," Chrissy says with a little playful whine, fingers closing around his wrist. "I'm cold, and I wanna go to bed!" 

He moves forward to follow her almost automatically, and you watch him until the door clicks softly shut, separating you. 

You blink at the white door until you hear a rustle break the hush. It's Steve, folding back the now-straightened sheets on your bed like an invitation. When you stare at him without moving, he glances up at you through his mussed bangs as he pats the mattress. No way to misconstrue that— it is undoubtedly an invitation for you to get in bed with him. And what's more, Steve doesn't appear angry or upset at all. In fact, he's currently shooting you a lopsided grin.

It feels like the fucking Twilight Zone.

Is it possible that Steve and Chrissy haven't fully realized what happened between you and Eddie? That they'd been so caught up in their own pleasure that the tension, the intimacy, the first real orgasm you’ve ever had with a partner had gone entirely unnoticed? It's nearly unbelievable. In fact, it is unbelievable. But the evidence to the contrary— Chrissy's usual powdery-soft smile and Steve's usual easy grin— cannot be ignored.

You're reeling, but amid your utter bafflement, you have enough presence of mind to realize that acting strange is not going to do you any favors and will only make the situation— whatever the situation is— worse. So you walk forward, slipping under the covers and turning as you feel Steve immediately click out the bedside light and shimmy over to spoon you. You force yourself to relax as his firm arms wrap around you, and his alkaline nose tucks against the juncture of your neck. You let Steve hold you— let him press his torso along your spine and fit his legs into the crook made by your bent legs, the entire length of his body snug against yours. He sighs deeply, a loud breathy sound of contentment that ruffles the hair at the nape of your neck. 

"Shit," Steve says, and his crisp voice washes over you like a cool wave. "That was fun." 

You've started to adapt to this situation, and that allows you to answer him the way you do. "Good," you say, and your voice is even and warm. "I'm glad you had fun."

Steve presses a chaste kiss to the side of your neck before settling his head back against his pillow. And you realize, as you stare at the empty bed across the room, that what you'd told him— that you're glad Steve had fun with Chrissy— is the truth. That you've reached the point where you really don't mind that your boyfriend fucked someone else tonight. 

That, if you're brutally honest with yourself, you no longer care that Steve is fucking Chrissy at all.

And that should scare you. But despite this realization, the warmth of Steve's body coupled with the exhaustion of the day— both emotional and physical— has your lashes already fluttering with the effort it takes to resist the allure of sleep. You barely twitch as the bathroom door opens, and Eddie and Chrissy climb into their own bed.

And as you succumb to the promise of slumber, soft like a velvet shroud as it covers you until you sink down into unconsciousness, the last thing you see is the image of Chrissy's lithe arms wrapped like a vice around Eddie's back, her dainty fingers pressing into his pale quartz skin. You watch her nails grow, sharpening to points until they're pricking him. They begin to pierce through his flesh as she clutches him so tightly. And you think he must be in such pain; he must be shouting, but you don't hear a sound. You watch as wells of deep red blood flow from his wounds and seep into the sheets, staining them with a gash of crimson that will never wash away.

You don't actually see any of that. As it turns out, you're already asleep.

–

Butterflies live their lives basking in the sun. Moths don’t; they exist in the dark, lives illuminated only by the moon, that indirect refraction of true sun. So whenever they steal a glimpse of the light, they’re drawn to it. Recklessly, they chase it, fluttering around that brightness, unafraid or unaware of the consequences. And because they don’t see it all the time, they yearn for it in a way that butterflies never do.

Even if it destroys them.

–

Approximately twenty-six hours ago, you'd imagined yourself sitting on the hotel balcony, having a leisurely cup of morning coffee to revive you after a long night of partying at the club with your friends and boyfriend. Instead, you find yourself digging in your suitcase, searching for an athleisure outfit so you can accompany Chrissy to the spa.

As you'd awakened to light streaming through the gauzy curtains, eyes blinking open to the sight of dark curls gleaming in the shafts of brightness and Eddie's pale quartz back rising and falling with even breaths, the presence of Chrissy's dainty hand splayed across his spine had conjured a small shiver. But when you'd grasped for it, the reason for your unease slipped from your consciousness like a drop of ink or blood diffusing into water. You quickly attributed the feeling to your actions the previous night, to the vestiges of guilt and shame that still ticked at the edge of your senses despite the conspicuous lack of conflict and a good night's rest. You'd been preparing for the fallout as you sat up in bed, drawing restless fingers through your hair and rubbing the remnants of slumber from your eyes. But when Chrissy awoke, blue eyes bright and smile soft as she pulled herself cross-legged on the other side of Eddie and whisper-shouted to you her proposal for how to spend the morning before your return flight, you finally allowed yourself to accept that maybe things were okay after all.

As you search for an outfit, you're careful not to disturb Steve. He's still stretched out against the sheets, hair adorably disheveled, nose whistling slightly with each inhale. You watch him sleep for a moment, but when it conjures a whisper of feeling you don't want to confront right now, you redouble your efforts to find an outfit. Soon, you're adorned in a loose cropped t-shirt, high-waisted bike shorts, and flip-flops. After a quick visit to the bathroom to brush your teeth and fix your hair, the slight jangle of keys near the door tells you Chrissy is ready and waiting. You emerge to find her in a skin-tight black romper, topped with a loose button-up tied chicly at the waist to show off her athletic legs. Together, the pair of you set out for a morning filled with the promise of relaxation and revival.

The day spa Chrissy has chosen called Ciel reminds you of the bathroom in your hotel. It's all clean lines and light wood, crisp and pristine but scattered with lush greenery that echoes the tropical foliage outdoors. Trying to balance treating yourselves but also sticking to a budget, you and Chrissy had agreed to two spa activities, which would have you back to the hotel by ten o'clock to pack and eat a quick brunch with the guys before your one o'clock flight. 

It smells of rich aromatherapy oil in the massage room where you're lying face-down on the table, face wedged in the opening, with nothing but a thin towel to preserve your modesty. You'd think that after having sex with three people at once, you'd be a little more comfortable with your own nudity. Yet you find yourself having to resist the sudden spike of self-consciousness that pierces you when you hear the door creak open underneath the ambient music and flowing water sounds. Still, Chrissy's presence on the table beside yours is soothing, and as the massage progresses, you find the precise and clinical rubbing does exactly what it's supposed to. It's like the masseuse's fingers are wringing all the tension from your body. As the hot stones rest heavily against your back, they release the ooze of your guilt and shame until you emerge from the room feeling cleansed.

After your massage, you suck down cold water as instructed, Chrissy at your side as you wait for your second activity: manicures. She sighs contentedly, porcelain skin shining pink and healthy from the heat, eyes sparkling even brighter. "That was so nice," she says. "I totally needed that."

"Yeah, me too," you say, exchanging a warm smile with her. "So, how was it dancing on stage last night?"

"Oh, my God, y/n, it was so cool!" she gushes, clasping your forearm as she starts to tell you all about it. And as you listen to Chrissy talk— as she shakes your arm around in her enthusiasm, and you fawn over her on-stage escapades, any lingering trepidation you felt at the thought of Chrissy being angry with you finally melts away. We're okay, you think, feeling a surge of fondness for Chrissy as you squeeze her fingers, and she smiles that soft charming smile that reveals her slightly crooked teeth.

An attendant guides you to the wall of nail colors, and you and Chrissy make your selections. You opt for squared tips and a pretty dove gray color. After some deliberation, Chrissy decides to get acrylics— not too long, but pointed, painted a bright siren red. Her acrylics will take longer than yours, but you don't mind; you've budgeted enough time for the indulgence, and the whole point of this trip is to relax and take it easy. No need to rush.

You sit side-by-side with Chrissy in the salon chair, resting your fingers lightly on the table as you wait for your nail technician to join you. She is an older woman with kindly-wrinkled eyes and shockingly smooth hands for her age. You greet her, and she returns your 'hello' with a smile, getting straight down to business by wiping off your bare nails with polish remover to ensure they're ready to be painted. Chrissy's technician comes second, flouncing into her seat across from your friend. She's younger, probably about your age, with a massive black bun piled atop her head to reveal an undercut. 

"What's up?" she greets Chrissy, who smiles broadly. "We doing acrylics?"

"Yup," Chrissy answers, wiggling her fingers sassily. "You like?"

The technician slants a grin at her. "Hell yeah," she replies, earning one of Chrissy's giggles as she positions her hands atop the towel to begin working.

Your technician eyes her colleague with an air of motherly long-suffering but doesn't comment as she works. Despite the casualness of Chrissy's technician, which may, you suppose, bother some customers, you eagerly welcome the conversation that flows between you three. You learn that her name is Crystal, which you all have a bit of a laugh over as it sounds so close to Chrissy. Crystal's constant chatterboxing doesn't interfere with her ability to work; she seamlessly gossips with you while preparing Chrissy's nails with practiced ease. And your technician doesn't seem to mind being excluded from the conversation, appearing content to work in patient silence while manipulating your limp fingers as your eyes dart from Chrissy to Crystal and back again.

Eventually, as Crystal's most recent story subsides, Chrissy glances at you. And you can tell, as her blonde brows crinkle up and her teeth bite down on her lip to contain a smile, that she wants to say something.

"What?" you say, playfully bald, narrowing your eyes with faux suspicion. "What is it? Spit it out, Chris."

She purses her lips, glancing between you and Crystal as she speaks, sweet and powdery soft in her hesitance. "Well… I've been dying to tell you this, y/n. It's kind of why I wanted to do this without the guys. We're on vacation with our boyfriends," she explains to Crystal, who nods, looking intrigued.

You're also intrigued by the sparkle in Chrissy's eye and the sudden light flush on her cheeks. You can tell it's good news and that it must be something big. Your face goes slack, eyes wide with excitement, thinking that it might be about her yoga studio— the reason she's been taking all those night classes, working so hard. Is she done with her degree? Had she found a good deal on a location? You itch to reach for her, but you can't move your hands; you settle for expressing your eagerness through your face and voice. "What is it, babe?" you ask, warm and buoyant with rising glee as her smile breaks free, lighting her face so radiantly.

"I think Eddie's gonna propose to me!"

Crystal squeals, Chrissy giggles, and your face is still fixed in a bright, eager smile.

"Holy shit!" Crystal exclaims, leaning in, ignoring the pointed look your technician shoots her way.

"I know," Chrissy sighs, feet tip-tapping on the floor like she needs an outlet for her overwhelming giddiness. "I'm so excited. I mean, we were gonna wait until after I finished my classes and got my degree, but we've been dating for, like, five years now, so what's the point in delaying, you know?" She looks from Crystal to you as if seeking your approval. You tighten the sagging corners of your smile, cheeks already aching as you nod quickly. You don't trust yourself to speak. Thankfully, her eyes bounce back and forth between you and Crystal, continuing eagerly without seeking more of a response.

And as Chrissy tells you all the reasons she thinks Eddie is going to propose to her, a feeling like mortification slides hot down the back of your neck to the base of your spine. It's like mortification but heavier, thicker. More asphixiating. Like your friend had shoved a pillow over your face, and each rationale she gives for Eddie's imminent proposal presses it down harder and harder against your nose and lips until your chest heaves, fruitlessly sucking in fabric instead of air. 

"We've been living together for a few months now," she's telling you and Crystal, "and it's been amazing. Like, I heard the transition can be kind of hard at first, moving in with someone, but it was so seamless. I was shocked! And it's so nice to come home to him every day. Well, you know," she chuckles, slanting a friendly, knowing look toward you. "You live with Steve, so you get it."

"All right, what's the best part?" Crystal asks conversationally, filing the acrylic of Chrissy's ring finger to a precise point.

"Hmm…" Chrissy bobs her head back and forth, pursing her lips as she thinks. "Probably sleeping with him." It takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to react.

Crystal guffaws. "Girl—"

Chrissy cuts her off. "No, no! Not like that," she clarifies with a charming giggle. "Eddie's like my personal heater. I'm always so cold, and he keeps me warm every night. And he's so attentive. Even when he's worked a really long shift and comes home super tired, he always wants to cuddle. He's really affectionate. And he's so reliable. I know he'd do anything for me." 

You're still smiling, but you can't breathe.

"Aw," Crystal coos, brows tugging up in a simpering expression of admiration. "I'm happy for you, girl."

  "Thank you," Chrissy replies, letting her head fall back as her eyes take on this far-away, dreamy look. You watch her as she hums contentedly before saying musingly, "Yeah. We'll get married, then I'll open the studio. And I think in a year or two, that'll probably be the right time to start trying." She slants a glance at you and Crystal, smiling conspiratorially as she shrugs. "Or sooner. You never know." She giggles and Crystal huffs amusedly through her nose. "Not sure I wanna wait that long to have my first baby."

There is no pillow; instead, Chrissy has sucked all the air from the room. Your lungs begin to ache.

"Honey," your technician says, all kind and quiet as your eyes dart to hers for the first time in a long while. She smiles reassuringly. "You're a little shaky. Did you eat this morning?"

You look down. She has your pinky in her grip, brush poised with dove gray polish above your nail. She's right. Your hands are trembling.

"N-no." You push the words out, voice creaky with disuse, so quiet that you aren't sure if she's heard you. You flex your fingers, jaw clenching as you focus on trying to keep them still. When she doesn't resume her painting, you glance up at her again. "I'm okay," you add, and when she nods, you turn your eyes back to your fingers, thinking of nothing but holding still and breathing evenly. Inhale slowly. Hold for three seconds. Out slowly. Wait for five. Repeat. Your fingers hold steady, and she manages to finish painting one hand before Chrissy addresses you directly.

"What do you think, y/n? Do you think they could be blue?"

You swallow against the lump that rises in your throat. "Hm?" You make a little questioning sound as you glance at your friend, looking into her face framed by supple strawberry-blonde waves, her bright blue eyes, her pink bow lips, her porcelain skin so radiant and beautiful.

"I was saying that I hope our baby has blue eyes, but Crystal said that brown eyes are, like, a dominant trait. So since Eddie has brown, he probably wouldn't."

"I mean, I wouldn't say I'm an authority," Crystal hedges, looking to you for your response.

You want to say, Chrissy, the thought of you having Eddie's baby makes me feel like I'm suffocating.

Instead, you squeeze out one single word. "He?"

"Oh, yeah." Chrissy looks a little sheepish, smiling softly as her shoulders squish up near her ears. "I kind of always say 'he' because I really want a boy. But Eddie wants a girl. I mean, honestly, I guess it doesn't matter what we have." Her face fills up with adoring affection. "He would be such an amazing girl dad. She'd be his little princess."

You'd do anything, give anything, not to hear another word. 

The realization shifts something in you. It allows you to claw at the pillow Chrissy's inadvertently holding to your face, wrench it from your nose and mouth, and shred it until feathers rain around you in a cloud of soft down. By sheer force of will, you bury your emotions beneath the dark earth at the bottom of you until you can't feel them anymore.

"I think there's a chance the baby would have blue eyes," you say, straightening your spine, face perfectly pleasant. "It's not likely, but there's always a chance."

–

When Steve first proposed carpooling with Chrissy and Eddie to the airport, it seemed like a great idea. Now, it's agony.

When you'd returned to the hotel, Chrissy had asked the guys what they'd been up to while you were gone. "Oh, we just hung out," Steve replied easily, shooting her a lopsided grin as he wrapped his arm around you in greeting, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. Steve had acted entirely normal throughout your packing process, but you couldn't help but feel that Eddie seemed a little… off. 

You didn't look at him often. Despite how you'd pushed your emotions down at the spa, it seemed the effect had been only temporary since the sight of Eddie's black and white caused you to ache deeply somewhere behind your ribs. Still, after so many evenings in his company, even the most fleeting glimpses of his brown eyes and pale face revealed a dullness that was obvious to you. He seemed harrowed. But he also seemed to be avoiding your gaze just as much as you were avoiding his, so you pushed your questions aside and focused your attention on returning home to normalcy.

You're sitting in the passenger seat of Steve's maroon BMW. He's driving with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lightly against the gearshift. In the back seat, Chrissy has opted for the middle spot, pressing close to her boyfriend as he leans tiredly against the car door. You're all pretty worn out from the flight, sitting in the quiet wooshing of the highway as you think dully about the Monday morning of work you'll be facing tomorrow. You're already planning on taking a long hot shower, wrapping yourself in your coziest pajamas, and gorging on pizza and some indulgent Netflix show to unwind before bed. You can't wait until you and Steve drop Chrissy and Eddie off. Chrissy seems to share your sentiment.

"I can't wait 'til we get home." Chrissy is murmuring quietly, but in the hush of the car, you can hear her just fine. It's the first time someone has broken the silence the whole car ride, and you find yourself glancing automatically back to see Chrissy's hand high on Eddie's thigh as she crosses her legs toward him, cocking her head. "I'm gonna get you right in the shower, big boy."

You hear Eddie huff a brief chuckle, and you swallow to wet your suddenly dry throat. You swell with foreboding; dread sinks heavy in your stomach as a brief flash of that hot mortification echoes inside you again.

"What do you wanna do to me tonight?" Chrissy murmurs, voice pitched low and sultry, still quiet but horribly clear. Please, no. Don't make me listen to this, you beg silently, eyes flicking toward the side window as you curl up on yourself in preparation.

Chrissy continues talking. "Do you wanna try fucking my face again? That was fun last time."

There's an extended pause and then Eddie's answer. "If you want." You feel some vindictive relief at the impassiveness of his voice. Hot, prickly shame rushes in to follow, and you rest your chin on your palm, leaning your temple against the cool glass of the window. You don't want to listen, but after Eddie's response, you can't deny that a small part of you is hoping to hear that lack of enthusiasm from him continue. You may not want to listen, but your ears are honed on the back seat now, attentive to each little sound and shift in tone.

Chrissy's voice is suddenly lower, more seductively teasing. "You know I love it when you get me all sloppy."

You don't dare to look; you keep perfectly still, waiting for Eddie's response. And you hear a subtle shifting of fabric, like one of them is moving to touch the other or fidgeting with their hands. Maybe Eddie is twisting his rings in that nervous habit of his. 

Again, it heartens you, his lackluster response. And you know it's wrong to take pleasure in it, but you can't help yourself. Later, you can chastise yourself for your selfishness. Now, you're grasping it like a lifeline. You're reaching for anything that can relieve the oppressive suffocation you'd experienced in the nail salon. Because you know that ache can't be suppressed forever. You know it will return, and you'll latch on to anything that may alleviate at least some of it.

You hear Chrissy giggle suddenly. "Or…" She sounds even foxier now. "You could always…" She trails off pointedly, and you can hear the smile in her voice. You know what Eddie will do; it's clear what Chrissy wants.

"What?" he asks, obliging her.

"You know…" she murmurs, husky and low. There's a rustle and then the barest suggestion of words, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. You realize she must be whispering in Eddie's ear.

His sudden shocked huff nearly startles you; you hear the slight wet sound of him swallowing thickly. "Would you like that?" Chrissy asks, all smug and low with knowing pleasure.

Eddie chuckles disbelievingly. That smoke voice rasps low. "What kind of question is that? 'Would you like that?' Of course, I'd fuckin' like that—" 

The slight relief twists violently into pain behind your ribs; the ache resurges, throbbing as you begin to suffocate again.

 With trembling fingertips painted dove gray, you switch on the radio.

–

It's one o'clock in the morning, and your pain has finally subsided into hollowness. You'd worn your mask for the remainder of the day. You'd worn it while dropping Chrissy and Eddie off at their apartment. You'd worn it during the ride back to yours, where you wrote down all the groceries you needed for the week in your Notes app to be picked up after work tomorrow. You'd worn it while showering, while changing into your pajamas, while relaxing on the couch watching an indulgent Netflix show with your feet in Steve's lap. And now, Steve is asleep, so you no longer need to maintain your mask. It's somewhat of a relief, but it can't compensate for the whiplash of events that occurred on this vacation. On some level, you feel like everything has changed. But laying here, empty and hollow, you realize that, in reality, nothing has. 

You hope your hollowness persists. Maybe, with hollowness in place of the ache, you can put this weekend behind you and pick back up right where you left off before you'd gone on this vacation.

The phone buzzes.

You blink, staring at the bright screen of your phone on your bedside table for a long moment, long enough for it to go black again. You know who the message is from because only one person texts you this late in the evening. You consider leaving it for tomorrow morning and just going to sleep instead. You're certainly tired enough.

You drag the phone underneath the covers with you. 

You open the message, which includes a small block of text and, curiously, an mp3 file rather than a Spotify link. You dully pull out your earbuds automatically, fitting them in your ears before you read the message.

Eddie has written, 'Been working on this one for a while now. Finally finished recording it right before our trip and wanted to share it with you. Let me know what you think.'

Your heart stutters and thumps, and the feeling is not entirely pleasant. As you stare at the file waiting to be opened and played, you waver with indecision. You've never hesitated to listen to one of the songs Eddie has shared with you. But then, you'd never before broken the rules by kissing him. And he'd never before made you orgasm. And you've never before sat in a nail salon, listening to his girlfriend talk about becoming his wife and having his children.

In the end, what finally persuades you to make your decision is not any of those things. It's the memory of Eddie's bouncing knee, of his white knuckles as he glared at the sea, grappling with your kind words. Struggling to accept that you'd listened to his regret and shame and countered with all the parts of him you cherish.

As soon as you hear it, you pause on the chorus, stunned by Eddie's voice, how it's gritty and cracking with the force of his growl. ' Placed inside, safe and sound. Shades of colors are all I see. ' You listen to it once and then immediately play it again and again. You're fixated on it— the way Eddie sings about being 'safe and sound.' The way his voice sounds so raw. An odd image comes to you: a man's pale back pricked by sharp nails, flowing crimson onto sheets. It makes no sense, but it also makes you ill, so you push the image away and hit replay.

You listen to the song again and think about how Chrissy said she wants to have a boy, but Eddie wants a girl. It suddenly becomes so obvious: how they've discussed getting married and having kids, and you don't even know when Eddie's birthday is. You're thinking about how you've never been to their apartment. You're wondering what their apartment looks like. What their bed looks like. And then you're thinking about how Eddie keeps Chrissy warm in it every night. And once you think that, you can't stop the questions that tumble one after another.

Does he touch her like he touches you? 

Does he fuck her like he fucks you? 

Does he moan against her neck when he cums inside her? 

Does he hold her while she cries?

Does he steal one last touch before he leaves the bed to wash up? 

Does she get to see the gentleness in his eyes? Does that gentleness spread over his whole face? You know that it can. Your knowledge comes deep from the bottom of you, where your green sprouts forth. Does Eddie's gentleness spread for Chrissy that way? The way you've never gotten to see it?

The suffocating ache wells up. It leaks silently from your eyes. It's all too much. You feel too much. 

For the first time, you don't answer Eddie's message.

[clatterbane]

I really am an idiot sometimes.

A little while ago, I referred somebody else to one of the videos from this playlist, because they really are helpful. I got a lot of good out of them as a new wheelchair user. Then I decided to check out a few more that I don't think I had watched before:

Then I got to this one!

️BATHROOM WHEELCHAIR TRANSFERS

...And immediately started coveting her very practical setup.

A lot of things are easier for me, with full use of my lower body minus a foot. I'm thankfully fine without any kind of help--or am I really? 😮‍💨

We have been in this place for 3 years come Christmas time, and this here's the extent of my own showering arrangement:

That's it! I've got the same slightly wobbly-feeling stool that I got to fit into our roughly phone booth sized shower stall back in London, which will luckily slide back in under the sink out of the way when it's not needed. Plus a dedicated brush to make it easier to scrub out that deep tub. (Which I did indeed mark with tape, to try and make sure nobody uses it for anything else! 😬)

Sometimes I will skip the seat, and just haul my wet slippery carcass in and out of the bottom of the tub. I rarely want to soak, but it works pretty well to spray yourself off that way. But, especially if I don't feel like scrubbing the tub before plonking my bare ass into it? It is usually the seat for me.

The usual transfer situation is not the best! Especially getting out when everything is wet. Putting my towel on the edge of the tub on the way out helps, but that's also sorta slippy in its own way.

Yeah, I think some grab bars really would be a good plan in there, all things considered.

I do have one foot, and the other one is supremely unlikely to grow back. I am sadly not a crawfish. This is not a temporary accessibility need, either.

A bench-style seat like she's using would probably also make things easier, now that we do have a tub to support one. Should feel less precarious scrambling in and out of there. I would need to leave the shower curtain outside of the tub with the bench blocking its path on the inside, but full wet rooms are standard for apartments here! (All the better not to flood your neighbors, basically.)

The fact that this IS an apartment is one of the reasons I've shied away from drilling any holes in the walls in here so far--like to mount grab bars. But, this is not a rental. And even if it were, pretty sure nobody had better try to complain about someone who needs bathroom grab bars drilling to install them in Sweden either.

(I think the municipality is even technically supposed to be on the hook for supplying adaptive equipment like that, though I would really rather not try to deal with bureaucracy when what I need is maybe $50 total worth of hardware from a Lowe's equivalent and the existing drill. I was just pricing some.)

But yeah, I don't think the apartment drilling has been anywhere near my main mental hangup in this case. It's probably more to do with that nasty tendency to feel like if I remotely CAN manage, that somehow obligates me to stubborn my way forward and push through the hard way.

The real kicker? I haven't been showering as often as I probably should, because it IS a more difficult and dangerous proposition than it needs to be. I make sure I don't stink--and I WILL notice before anyone else if I do. (Shitty superpowers...) But yeah, it really hasn't been ideal and I have been feeling guilty about that too.

In a similar situation, I would strongly recommend that literally anybody else get some freaking grab bars and a better seat into their bathroom. I'd install it for them if they needed help, because jfc. I really do not need to break my own fool head--or anything else!--in the bathroom either. And I don't somehow deserve for that to happen. 😑 If anything, extra stable supports are probably an even better idea since I have always been such a klutz anyway.

Going to bring the minor bathroom renovations up with Mr. C, yeah. May actually send him this, and save some venting. Not that there seems to be any shortage of that.

[16woodsequ]

Sunday Steve - Day Twelve

Things that would be new or unfamiliar to Steve in the 21st century, either due to the time period he grew up in, or his social-economic status and other such factors.

Day Twelve: Soap

One day I was looking at a bottle of dishsoap and I wondered, would Steve have used this? So I looked it up. Liquid soap was patented in 1865 but "despite its popularity throughout the early to middle 1900’s, it wasn’t until 1980 that liquid soap became mass-produced for domestic use." (Link)

From what I've found liquid soap was not that commonly used. There were liquid shampoos in the 20s but many people used shampoo powder or liquified grated soap bars.

It's the same for other soap. Laundry soap and dishsoap came in powders and soap bars. Below you can see a box of soap flakes shown to be used for both laundry and dishes.

Soap flakes sold for 10 cents circa 1929

Here are some more laundry soap options we covered in the laundry post.

Laundry soap options in 1927. They included purchasing flakes, chips, or powder; liquifying your soap ahead of time(right); and (left) grating your own laundry soap from a bar. Fels Naptha soap, which came in a big bar, was rubbed on difficult stains and rings around the collar. (Link)

Liquidizing the soap entails taking soap shavings and dissolving it into boiling water. The liquid would then be poured into laundry water to be used. If left over night the soap re-solidifies.

For dishes another option besides powders or flakes is a soap shaker. This blog discusses early 20th century dishwashing, showing things like soap shakers and dish scrapers. Looks like one could use a soap shaker to more easily get suds from a bar of soap.

Modern soap shaker reproduction (Link).

But what about public bathrooms?

Most public bathrooms nowadays use liquid soap, and if liquid soap wasn't so common, what did they use?

It's possible some bathrooms used bars of soap it's not very easy to find information about that online. What I can find that is soap dispensers that dispensed powdered soap!

There's this one that had a crank to push the soap forward to an opening. Another type of seemed to have a lever/button press to dispense soap. Some styles shave off soap bars inside the canister as well.

I've never experienced these types of dispensers but looking online a lot of people seem to remember them growing up.

1940s era bathroom experienced in the 70s:

They were very simple -- white plaster walls with a wooden partition painted dark green, a painted concrete floor, and a plain white wall-mounted toilet. The sinks had cold water only, and over each sink was mounted a metal Boraxo dispenser -- Boraxo was a dry, gritty, powdered soap, and the dispenser was a sort of mechanical sifter with a lever that hung down below. You'd bang on the lever and a small amount of the powder would sift out. The towel dispensers gave out rough folded-red-paper towels

Circa 1936 powdered soap dispenser with crank handle. Note is says "pure dry cake soap ground into powder as you use it without any waste". So this dispenser seems to ground soap cakes (bars) into powder itself.

The video below is an example of push button powdered soap dispenser. Some dispensers have labels suggested to wet the hand first before using the soap. (37 sec video).

I have also seen people talk about soap leaves being available in women's bathrooms. The soap leaf booklets could also be carried around in a purse and used by the owner at their convenience.

You can see in this accessory pack that at least some soldiers were provided with soap leaf packets to use during World War Two.

In conclusion

It is unlikely Steve would be used to using liquid soap. From what I could find liquid soap, and especially the liquid hand soap dispensers, were not popular until the 80s (this seems to be partially because of the difficulty of developing a pump soap dispenser for liquid soap, so that would also be new for him.) I think the prevalence of liquid soap would surprise him as soap is so basic you don't really expect it to change but basically the whole experience of soap has changed for him.

Also, fun fact! Soap operas are called that because when they rose to popularity in the 20-30s they were regularly sponsored by soap companies!

[farmergilesofham]

The Vanguard Swimsuit Fic Part 5: Taming the Wolf

Oh help oh no it's the gruff-- oh hello

Caiatl's flagship was not a quiet place even at the best of times, but thanks to some modular walls and three layers of soundproofing, Saladin's bedchamber was about as quiet as the heart of an Earth forest, or indeed the old hall of Felwinter Peak. The only discernible sound was the low hum of the ship's engines, or rather the vibration of every flat metal surface connected to the walls, ceiling, or floors.

Saladin's bed was little more than a stacked accoutrement of blankets and furs, into which the old wolf could sink after a long day of manoeuvering around the Cabal Empress and her subordinates' laws and customs. It was not particularly difficult work, per se, but his advisory position was physically and mentally draining nonetheless.

At that moment, Forge was stripped down to the waist, working his way through the forms of the various martial arts he had been impressing upon young Cabal warriors over the past three months. They were good, certainly, but their size lended itself to different movements, and such had been the focus of the Iron Lord's teaching this past week. Now, as then, he was slick with sweat, dark skin shining in the orange light of the room's faux-candles as the old warrior slid smoothly into his next stance, low to the ground and ready for grappling. The quiet ping! of his communicator intruded upon the stoic silence, and the low gong of his doorbell shattered it completely.

Sighing, he toweled off his face and strode over to the door, expecting Ta'raun, the latest recruit to request a private lesson in technique. What he did not expect was the squeal of shock from a fellow Guardian, standing a little shorter than him, followed by an entirely unconvincing coughing fit. Once they were done, Saladin could finally take a look at them, and stared with mounting shock at the face of the Young Wolf themselves, cheeks so red they looked like an elseworlds Awoken, barring of course the glowing eyes.

"Uhm. Uh. Er, hummm..." the Guardian's eyes were locked on Saladin's chest, and their hand - clearly unconsciously - began rising to touch his scarred skin. Palm pressed against the Valus' chest, the Young Wolf's voice petered out into nothing, just staring.

By this point, Saladin had regained his composure, and laid a deceptively gentle hand on the Guardian's wrist, pulling their arm away and stepping back. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Guardian?" he rumbled, affecting ignorance of the situation.

It took a moment for the Guardian to realise he had spoken, and another few moments for them to figure out what had been said. Finally, though, they swallowed and stepped in, still blushing furiously, and mumbled something about having more privacy.

Saladin pressed the door's biometric key, locking them in the room.

"Is this private enough, Young Wolf? Now, what do you want?" his voice was like earth moving over stone, or perhaps silk sliding over iron. The Guardian was in no state to decide exactly which.

"Uhm. Well, I wanted to ask... uh, uhm. Well, uhh - can I see what you wear whenever you go swimming in a lake?"

Saladin stood there for a moment, considering. "Is that all?"

"Uhm, no. I've got something to ask as well, but I want to see your bathing suit first..."

Well, what can you do thought the Old Wolf, untying his leather belt and letting the rest of his clothing drop to the floor.

"AHHH NO THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT-!" the Young Wolf's yelp was almost a scream, and their red blush was now so deep it was almost purple, heat rising visibly along the base of their neck as well.

"Are you alright? Your neck-"

"NO MY NECK IS FINE, THANK YOU" hurriedly, the Guardian clapped a hand over their eyes, shielding their vision from the sight of Saladin in naught but his skin. Well, perhaps not so hurriedly, but certainly with a loud slap of hand against face.

Saladin was quite simply confused. One second he's asked to strip down, the next second he's told that's not what they'd meant? Ridiculous. All these New Age guardians, barely approaching 30, and their new-fangled ways of speaking, got on his nerves. One should say what one means, and be done with it.

"You said you wanted to see how I bathe, yes? Well, you don't exactly bathe fully clothed, do you."

From behind covered eyes came the response: "Granted, but I asked for your swimsuit. Not your bare..." they paused a second, swallowing "...body." The Young Wolf was visibly trembling, blushing, and trying very very hard not to look at the Iron Lord before them. Which was somewhat difficult, seeing as they kept peeking between their fingers and lightly yelping. And made even more difficult by the fact that Saladin made no move to cover up, only folding his arms and leaning back against the nearby seat.

"So. Uhm. Would- Hhhh. Let me... let me try again."

"Take your time."

It was was great difficulty that the Slayer of Gods schooled their face to stillness, closing their eyes for the moment it took to let their hand drop and, finally, opened their eyes to look at Saladin. The blush was back in a heartbeat, but at least this time they didn't squeal.

"Right. Would. You. Like. To. Help. Raise. Funds. For. The. Eliskni. Quarter." Every word was bitten off, the syllables exactly enunciated, as their speaker began to sweat with effort.

"What's this got to do with a swimsuit?"

"A Calendar. Photos. Of you. And others. Sold on earth. And NeoMuna."

Saladin sat on the chair he'd been leaning on, considering.

On the one hand, Saladin was not one to disparage attempts at helping humanity's new allies, whatever that attempt may entail. On the other hand, he did not relish the thought of distracting the denizens of the Last Cities with lewd perspectives on their current leaders, especially where this could easily slide into insubordination.

"No."

"What?!" The Guardian sounded genuinely surprised, as if expecting a different answer. The flusterment was mostly gone, now replaced with disbelief, and no small amount of annoyance.

"Saladin, this is for the Eliksni Quarter! You know how well this would sell among Guardians!" they exclaimed, now upset.

"Yes. That's precisely why I won't be doing it."

With an angry huff, the Young Wolf stalked over, flipped the end of a scarf around the Iron Lord's shoulders, and pulled him in for a hard stare.

"Now you listen here, you big naked oaf - these people bloody well need money, and a single photograph in a calendar is bloody well worth the trouble of getting them some! What, you think people'll stop listening to you just because they've seen you naked! Get over yourself!"

All through this tirade, Saladin's face grew ever stormier until at last he cut in:

"You'd have to do one hell of a job to convince me, Young Wolf." He bit off those last words, turning the title of honour into something close to an insult, bringing forth a completely different flush on the Guardian's face.

"Oh I'll bloody well convince you, you- you... argh! Bloody old bastard!"

Pulling hard on the scarf brought both Lightbearers toppling to the floor, right onto the stacked bed-pelts and furred blankets, muffling the next string of insults in the sound of shifting furs.

~~~~~~~

Saladin lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He'd never been wrestled to the ground before, and he'd never been beaten so soundly as to be out of breath. His joints ached, his back hurt, and his legs felt like water. The Young Wolf sat on the room's single chair, massaging their wrists and sipping on a glass of water, looking down at him in triumph.

And triumph it was - distracting though Saladin's lack of clothing had been, it hadn't made any difference in the fight. Point proven, the Guardian simply waited for an answer, staring pointedly at the Old Wolf.

"Hmph. Fine."

"You'll do it?" they instantly brightened up, jumping out of their seat.

"I'll think about it."

It was about as close to an admission as Saladin was willing to get, knowing full well that he was likely being quite unreasonable in his assumptions. Age did not always bely wisdom, as had so very often been proven to the both of them.

"Great! I'll see you there!" the Guardian beamed, face split by a sunny grin, before prancing off to the door, only to be blocked by the biometric lock.

"Allow me." Saladin rolled out of the bedded furs, standing up in a single smooth motion, before making his way over to the Guardian. The tension was palpable, but only for as long as it took for the door to unlock. Then, the Young Wolf stepped out briskly, and set off for the corridor - only to stop suddenly. Turning around, a wicked smile on their face, they whispered:

"Shaxx is bigger than you~"

And sprinted off down the hall before Saladin could make his reply.

"What the f-" he was interrupted, again, but this time by the short ping! of his communicator going off again. Two messages. One from Shaxx, the other from Caiatl.

He opened the one from Shaxx first.

<Make sure Germaine goes to the beach as well> was all it read.

Saladin stood there a long time, not moving until a passing Psion yelped, Sending the image of a midwinter oak. The Valus blinked, turned around, closed his door again, and sat down to think.

xxxxxxxxxx

And that's that for chapter 5!

Goodness gracious, I need to lie down.

That was hella tough to write

See y'all next time!

[jennithejester]

The Shadow of Zaun - Act I - Chapter 3: Proving Grounds 

Chapter Word Count: 9.058

Rating: Explicit (eventual SMUT, darlings)

Warnings: Violence

Summary: Born of two different worlds and raised by the Lanes, you rise from the ashes and runoff of Piltover to become the Shadow of Zaun. Fanfic will have two acts, with an “intermission” chapter, that will span before and after the bridge incident between the brothers of Zaun. The whole cast of characters within the show will eventually make an appearance. Eventual SMUT, thus the rating now, kids.

Relationships: Silco x F!Reader

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41675289/chapters/106898832

PS looking for a few good beta readers if you’re game.

I've been here before, But always hit the floor. I've spent a lifetime running, And I always get away. But with you, I'm feeling something. That makes me want to stay. “Writing’s on the Wall” – Sam Keith

——-

The next morning you awoke disoriented, in pain, and alone.  As you sat up and palmed across the side of the bed where your former sleep mate had been you’d wondered where he’d gone off to, not that he had to appraise you of his whereabouts.  For crying out loud, you’d thought, you barely know the man and here you’re feeling…

What was it you were feeling, you asked yourself, as you stood up a bit gingerly and was surprised to see something fall off you and onto the floor. When you bent in an awkward manner, mindful of your stitches, to retrieve what looked to be a folded scrap of paper that you opened and began to read, you realized with a slight pang exactly what it was you were feeling:

Disappointment. 

Disappointment and perhaps…loneliness, if you were being honest with yourself. You made a disgusted frown. Sure, you were a bit contact-starved from living alone for so long, but for Janna’s sake, you shouldn’t start latching onto the first person that held a conversation with you. Sure, he’d help patch you up and wasn’t bad to look at, even with that beak of a nose of his that you might find a bit adorable, but that wasn’t a reason to start fawning over him.

“You are quite possibly the saddest excuse for a human being that walked the Lanes,” you mumbled to yourself as your fingers traced over the surprisingly fancy penmanship of Silco’s that adorned the paper and read it in its entirety. You didn’t think you’d ever seen your name look so elegant.

Went to talk with Vander. Meet me back at the bar and take your time to rest and clean up. Silco

You smirked at the elegant look of the message as you began to wonder if Silco was born of the Lanes at all. With his way of speaking as well as his apparent skills with the pen, if you didn’t know any better (and you didn’t) you’d swear he was born in Piltover and had received only the best education possible. As you made your way to his washroom, you’d eyed the many books piled about the room and in glancing at their titles alone, your suspicions about his being educated in a more formal sense only mounted. Subjects were things such as history, geography, science, and only a rare few fictional works that seemed to have an overwhelming nautical theme.

“Huh, not one naughty novel or anything fluffy? So boring, you are, Silco,” talking to yourself again as you spied a clean, but well-worn, towel and washcloth that had been laid out presumably for you in the small washroom you entered. The door to the room wouldn’t even open the entire way due to where the sink was placed and the shower within was barely big enough for one person to fit into. You began to remove your clothes, careful to not undo the stitching that adorned your front. Looking into the small, oxidized, and somewhat cracked mirror above the sink, you debated whether or not undoing all the gauze and jumping in the shower was smart. 

Admittedly, you looked a fright as your mess of a reflection stared back at you. The kohl around your red, tired eyes showed the track lines of some of the tears that had escaped in pain as you’d been sewn up. The black lipstick, once neatly painted upon your lips, was smeared sideways across your mouth. Memories of some of the clowns that entertain children at festivals came to mind and you huffed a laugh at yourself. 

“A monumental first impression,” you muttered with a sigh as you grabbed the washcloth, bar of soap, and resigned to use the sink to bathe everything around the areas bandaged and leave the dressing as is in order to heal more. Once finished with cleansing your skin, you had the unfortunate dilemma of your hair to deal with. The rats’ nest atop your head that held the fuzzy, long braid that came out of it gave off the impression that you might be feral, at best. Turning around, you eyed the shower and the bar handles that adorned the side walls within and had an idea. You removed the blade that adorned the end of your braid, unraveled it, and finger-brushed it a bit before turning on the shower. After waiting for a few moments to see if the water would warm (it didn’t), you then proceed to turn backwards, still naked aside from the bandage across your torso, and hold onto either railing to allow for your head to fall beneath the water to at least rinse out your hair.

After a long while of letting the cold water run over your scalp, to your absolute shock and horror, you felt a pair of arms come under you and lift you up as you let out an undignified squeak and flailed.

“You’re going to slip and break your neck doing that,” Silco scolded you as you frantically tried to right yourself to a standing position out of his arms, sliding on the floor a bit, and just ending up falling further into his grasp.

“You said you’d meet me at the bar! You said take my time getting ready! What the fuck are you doing in here?! Put me down!” you yell at him as he returned you to your feet.

Silco and you both then stare at each other for a few moments before the realization that you were still quite naked seemed to dawn on you both simultaneously, causing his eyes to widen before he spun around with his back to you, as you squeaked again, and grabbed for the towel. Wrapping the towel around your waist, since your top half was covered with the bandage, you then began to braid your hair back into the singular braid as you waited for him to answer. 

Silco seemed to take a second before he responded in a wry tone, his back still to you, “Yes, I said I’d meet you at the bar and, yes, I said to take your time. I didn’t realize you’d be in here until late afternoon and when I’d not heard anything out of you, I merely came to check on you. Speaking of which you’re very lucky I did, seeing that your recklessness blends into everyday life, apparently. Lastly, this is my room so I do have every right to be in here.”

Late afternoon? Fantastic, I’ve now probably missed my window with his damned brother.

“I—“ you began to retort and whatever words you were going to say died on your lips. Silco wasn’t wrong you were just surprised and notably should have probably also closed the door to the bathroom.

“Are you decent yet so I can at least turn around and we can speak like normal people?” he asked in a voice that gave the hint he was smiling through his words.

“Neither of us are normal, but yes, I’m decent,” you said and he turns around in the doorway and leans against it and crosses his arms.

Silco takes an agonizing minute as his eyes rake over you, from head to toe, and you take a step backwards into the wall behind you, without thinking. He then has the audacity to walk closer to you before coming up and reaching out and you hold your breath. A small knowing grin touches his features as he seemed to delight a bit in invading your personal space, making you squirm, and pretended to examine the bandage around your mid-section, his fingers ghosting along the edges of the bandage in spots.

“Looks like this held up since last night well. Doesn’t seem that you ripped out any of the stitches, so that’s good.”

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your handiwork.”

“No, that would be a shame if I had to have you strip again. Not that I’m complaining about the view,” he said as his grin goes wide and he winks before he turns around to leave the bathroom, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape.

“Bastard,” you call in a sing-song voice to him in the other room as you hear him laugh and the squeak of bed as he presumably sat upon it.

“Hurry up and get dressed. Vander is waiting for our little talk,” he called from the other room as you began to put your clothes back on which included his shirt from the night before. You finished braiding the long plait and wove the blade back into its end before taking one last look into the mirror at yourself. You adjusted his shirt, that was indeed big on you, to hang off one shoulder a bit and then proceeded to walk out into the living area. While he had been seated upon the bed, waiting; Silco stood upon you entering the room.

“I thought you boys had something to attend to this afternoon? Sounded important,” you began as he moved towards the door.

“I convinced Vander that we could use that little excursion as your first test,” Silco said as he opened the door for you and motioned for you to exit.

“As long as it doesn’t involve scaling walls and roof tops I’d inevitably slide down the wrong way,” you remarked sarcastically as he gave you a side glance as you grinned and he rolled his eyes at you. You followed him back down the hallway that you knew led to the bar. “In all seriousness, I’m certain this is going to take a bit to heal, mostly cause of where its located.”

“I’m sure,” he began and then stopped suddenly in his tracks an turned as you nearly rammed into him. “Are you still in a lot of pain?” He asked in all seriousness.

“I’ll live.”

“They’re old, so I know they weren’t that effective, but we can likely scrounge up a few more painkillers if you feel that would help,” he said as his hand motioned as if he was going to reach out to you before he fisted it and lowered it back down.

“I’m fine. Or I will be. Thank you, though. Maybe I’ll hit you up for some before I head home this evening tho, but I’m fine for now.”

You didn’t miss how his face fell a bit when you mentioned leaving before he nodded and turned back to leading you to the main bar area. Just as the evening prior, Vander was behind the bar slinging drinks to the patrons of The Last Drop. Even though you’d slept into the afternoon, it was still a bit early for the denizens of Zaun to pack into the popular bar, so only a couple stragglers were sitting at the tables within. Silco motioned for you to have a seat up to the bar as he did so himself. You began to sit, but then thought better of it due to your stitches and merely leaned against the bar top.

“What’ll it be?” Vander said as he noticeably eyed your neck where a light bruise from his hand had formed. “It’s on the house.”

“Well, in that case, one finger of your best whiskey, sir,” you said in your best Piltie accent with a wink as both Vander and Silco rolled their collective eyes at you.

“You’ll need a double for what we’ve got to discuss,” Vander said with a bit of foreboding as he set the glass in front of you with twice the amount of liquor you’d requested in it. “As I think Sil had already mentioned to ya, he and I had a bit of business down at the docks we needed to take care of. Apparently, he thinks you’ve got enough worth to go ahead and test you out today.”

“So, what sort of business are we talking about here, boys? A little arms dealing, petty theft, extortion—“

“Intel,” Silco cut you off before you could continue your list.

“That sounds rather dull. In my experience, intelligence gathering is also better performed by one person, not three,” you said as you took a long drink of whiskey and relished the burn on your throat as it went down and began to warm you from inside to out. “This is rather nice. Thank you.”

“Well, well. The lady has manners,” Vander quipped before you pointed your finger at him with the hand that still held the tumbler.

“I’m no lady, so let’s put that rumor to bed before it starts. I have a reputation to uphold. Really, the audacity,” you said, laced with sarcasm as Vander grinned and laughed.

“Now that you’re involved, it won’t be three of us. Still just two,” Silco cut in with a level of seriousness that deflated the banter between you and Vander. Silco give Vander a seething glance as his jaw muscle ticked, which Vander didn’t see. Was he angry at him?

Or jealous? Your mind filled in and you audibly let out a noise before speaking aloud, “Not bloody likely, you idiot.”

Both men just stared at you believing your words were potentially for either or the both of them. You really needed to get this talking to yourself under better control.

“Sorry. Talking to myself, again,” you said through a sheepish smile and then promptly drained your glass dry and put it back down on the bar top with a bit more force than needed.

Silco and Vander gave each other a glance and seemed to communicate with only that for a moment before continuing.

“Since Sil spoke for ya, he’ll be the one responsible for ya on this run,” Vander started before his grin returned and he leaned forward on the bar, placing himself a bit between you and Silco and he poured you a refill of your drink. “I’ve got dibs on the next run though, lass, if you do well.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” you say back as you begin to grin but it dies on your mouth as you again catch the glance from Silco at Vander from over the big man’s shoulder. He was fuming and you watched him grip his own drink tight enough that his knuckles ran white. You quickly changed the mood of the conversation to distract him with business, “So explain what exactly you and I are to do here, Silco. Or should I call you ‘Sil’, now that we’re all good friends?”

“Silco is fine for you,” Silco stated as he visibility relaxed a bit again after a last lingering glance to Vander. “We are to spy on the Enforcers that have almost tripled their guard at this particular area lately for no good reason.”

“If they’ve tripled their guard, there has to be a good reason,” you added as both men nodded in agreement before Silco continued.

“Precisely. We suspect it’s shipments being brought in from Ionia, potentially for something they’ve only recently began working on,” Silco began before taking a sip of his drink, lit a cigarette, and took a long pull of it before exhaling and continuing. “From everything we’ve gathered, we’ve learned they may be building some form of a defense mechanism or potentially a weapon, the stories we’ve heard are frustratingly conflicting.”

Vander placed his hand over Silco’s forearm and looked around in alarm before narrowing his glance on his brother-in-arms, “A bit louder, Sil, I don’t think the neighbors down the street heard you talkin’ about Piltover’s possible secrets.”

Silco rolled his eyes and removed Vander’s hand from his arm, “Please, while I know my voice carries, I’m certain the only ones within earshot here are loyalists to the cause, Vander. But thank you, mother, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Vander tutted before you spoke, “Defense mechanism or weapon, eh? And if it’s coming in from Ionia, I’d thought you’d said the docks? Ionian shipments only come to bay at the airship port.”

“Docks, port, eh, all the same,” Vander shrugged before someone seated at one of the tables at the far end of the room made a signal for another drink. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

Silco let out a long sigh before taking another drag from his cigarette which you made no effort to hide your longing for one, “You and I both know when it comes to subterfuge, a dock and an airship port is definitely not the same. It’s the airship ports we’re discussing here, sweetheart. Honestly, I’m almost glad you’re coming with me on this one rather than Vander. He tends to forget how big he is, at times, and I’d need more than two hands to count the number of times we’ve been found out because of that.”

You both laughed a bit at that and Silco pulled another fresh cigarette from his pocket and offered it to you.

“I probably shouldn’t. At least until I can visit the old man to get a stronger dose in order,” you said as you licked your lips a bit in want and he shrugged and put the fresh one away.

“Likely a wise decision. You can just sit there and absorb second hand,” he said as he exhaled a few smoke rings upward in a a bit of a show.

“Such a gentleman.”

“Now there’s something I’ve never been called.”

“So you’re saying I’m setting myself up for unrealistic expectations, eh? Pity. And here I thought with all that fancy talk surely I’d had you dead to rites,” you smirked over your glass before you took another sip.

“Fancy talk?”

“You do know you talk like a damned Piltie, right?” You asked and he actually gave you a look of surprise. “Surely you realize that?”

“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting,” he began as he finished his drink and then ashed out his spent cigarette in the empty glass. “Just because I don’t speak like a heathen, doesn’t mean I’m one of them.”

“So you’re not from there? Not some sad tale of a rich boy raised in the city that did something horrible that had him disowned and banished to the Lanes to live the life of a Trencher?”

Silco began to laugh wholeheartedly at the story you’d concocted for him, “No. Nothing that sordid. I merely educated myself in an attempt to spite them.”

You gave him an appreciative smile and joined his laughter for a bit. That revelation made perfect sense with what little you still knew about Silco. It also explained the books you’d spied within his room. It was actually admirable that he’d gone to those lengths, especially out of spite, you thought, as you chuckled once again to yourself. It was then that Vander came up to stand aside the both of you and placed his hands on either of your shoulders.

“I miss something?” He asked with a grin at the laughter.

“Apparently,” Silco began with a bit more of an air than normal to his voice. “I’m from Piltover, Vander. Can you believe it?”

Vander chuckled and patted Silco on the shoulder before moving back behind the bar, “Get ta know him better. You’ll change that tune right quick.”

The three of you chuckled a bit before Vander’s face turned serious again, “Ya fill ‘er in on what the job is, Sil?”

Silco lit the other cigarette he’d previously offered you and took a long drag from it before responding, “A little. I’ve not gotten around to explaining the bit about what they may be building and what we’re truly looking to learn while there.”

Both you and Vander then gave Silco an expectant look when he paused as he took a sip of his drink and then continued.

“You asked about the item of defense or weapon,” Silco began as you nodded and slid a bit closer to where he was standing as Vander leaned in across the bar. “From all reports we’ve been able to patch together, Piltover, or rather someone from their academy, has potentially learned of a rare metal that could be used for a variety of things and both uses for armoring the guards as well as enhanced weaponry have been mentioned in reports. With this knowledge, there’s talk of increased trade with other realms within Runeterra, potentially adding to their already overly lucrative endeavors that the council has been running. I swear they do more dirty dealings than we do in the Undercity.”

Your eyes grew wide, “Has this been confirmed? Opening up trade like that would exponentially empower Piltover even more so than they are now? How would we ever keep up?”

“Calm down, we’ve not confirmed anything yet and that’s why were going to spy on them a bit. It will allow us to figure out what all this secrecy with their cargo has been as of late so we can piece together what is actually going on.”

“Regardless of whatever its use turns out to be—something like this, gentlemen, is not something that’s to be trifled with. That’s a hell of a lot of power you’re talking about and I’m not just talking about the trade and financial gains from this, if this all pans out. That would be just the start,” you said as you finished your drink quickly and felt your entire being buzz with warmth.

“Which is precisely why we’re going there to find out. If they do have something like this, and that’s a big ‘if’, then two can play at that game. We can get our hands on whatever this is and have our own people break it down, weaponize it, use it against—“

“Silco,” Vander cut him off as he slammed a glass he’d been cleaning down on the bar top loudly, “how many times have we talked about this? We are not weaponizing anything of the sort. I don’t want to hear talk like that again outta ya. We’re not starting a war down here in the Lanes and that’s final.”

“We’re already at war or weren’t you paying attention?” You ask bluntly as both men pause at your words. “Oh, I see. You weren’t.”

Silco says your name in warning, “Explain yourself.”

You swallowed, wishing you hadn’t drained your drink so quickly as the tale you began to lay out seemed to sober you up as you spoke, “The Lanes have been restless for a while. This hasn’t gone unnoticed by the guard, let alone the council. More and more restrictions are being placed upon those that live below. The other day I overheard they were contemplating enforcing a curfew to halt all traffic across the bridge at dusk until dawn,” the two men exchanged a look before you continued. “Zaunites are getting tired of the treatment they’re receiving and some have lashed out when confronted by Enforcers, resulting in a surge of Trenchers ending up imprisoned in Stillwater—or worse, they just go missing, never to be heard or seen from again. Within the Enforcer ranks there are some elitists that believe that Piltover is being held back by the Lanes and that eradicating us off the face of the realm would be in everyone’s best interest. Whether it’s been an outright declaration or not, war is here. Piltover’s just trying to be quiet about it.”

With that, you stopped to gauge the men in front of you and their reactions. Neither of them seemed too terribly surprised, but a grim look crossed both their faces as they once again took to a silent communication between the two of them. The atmosphere of the entire conversation shifted and any levity that the three of you had been maintaining seemed to evaporate. The weight of what was to come and how you now found yourself aligned with a group that was somewhat publicly known as being outspoken against Piltover and attempting a rebellion, you suddenly felt hit you like a ton of bricks. Alone, you’d never been a big enough threat and could maneuver without as much worry, but now…now, potentially, you had stepped into something that felt far larger that you’d originally thought through. When Vander shifted to refill your drink again, knowingly in light of things, you placed your hand over the glass to stop him.

“I probably should eat something before I have another if I’m to be in good enough shape to be of help when Silco and I go out to port,” you said in a small voice as you avoided their gazes a bit, still absorbing.

You felt Silco’s eyes analyze you for a long moment before he spoke, “I’ll swing her by Jericho’s on the way over, Vander. It’s on the way.”

Vander merely grunted in acknowledgement as he poured himself a glass and proceeded to down it in one large gulp, “Speakin’ o’which, you best get moving soon if you’re to catch the shipments before close, this evenin’.”

“Quite right,” Silco says as you still feel his eyes scrutinizing you as you stare at the empty glass in front of you. He then proceeded to finish his drink in one go and then stand and gently taps your upper arm. “Come on. We’ll head through the main strip before we take the back alleys to get to the port.”

Silco starts towards the front door of the establishment and you turn to follow when Vander comes to grab your hand before it leaves the bar top.

“Help with this and do a good job and there’s more work helpin’ the cause when ya get back. Make sure that one comes back in one piece, too, understood?” He requests of you seriously as he nods his head in Silco’s direction.

“Of course.”

“There’ll be a drink waitin’ fer ya when ya get back, as well,” he winks and you only half-smile as you remove your hand from his grasp and head towards the door where Silco had stopped to wait for you.

“What was that about?” He asked as you exited The Last Drop with him and attempted to match his long strides as he led you down to the main street within the heart of Zaun where the bazaar was that held the majority of the food vendors. You found your shorter legs had to work twice as hard to keep up with his long, brisk strides.

“He told me I needed to keep an eye on you,” you said with a wide grin as he gave you a look.

“Did he now?”

“I mean look at you. You’re a twig. Anyone could snap you in two just by looking at you funny.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm,” you tease, the grin growing wider and you stuck your tongue out a bit to him.

“I’ll remember that the next time I have to save your reckless ass.”

“I’m not reckless,” you said in mock offense and Silco actually stopped, crossed his arms, and leveled you with a look. “I’m not. I’m just…overly…excitable, that’s all.”

“Excitable?”

“Passionate, maybe is a better word.”

“So you’re blaming your passion for almost getting yourself killed now twice since we met?” He asked and motioned for you to continue to follow him as you both began to near the bazaar area, the hint of music and smells of various cooked foods invading your senses.

You shrugged, “Eh.”

Silco rolled his eyes and then turned to a more serious tone with you as you both blended into the crowd in front of the vendors, “All joking aside, you really do need to watch out more for yourself. You may be used to going it alone, but if you are to join us in bringing Zaun and all its sons and daughters their freedom, you need to be more careful or you may not only get yourself hurt or killed, but you may take us down with you in the process.”

“Awe, I thought for a second there you were worried about me,” you attempted to lighten the conversation.

Unfortunately for you, Silco wasn’t in a mood to make light of anything as he turned and you ran into his chest. He grabbed your shoulders, moving you back a ways, so you’d look him square in the eye as he said your name, “Can you for one second stop joking around and listen to me? This isn’t funny. Zaun’s future depends on everyone being reliable and giving their all. You were right, back there. We’re in a volatile time between Piltover and the Lanes which means that one wrong move and the silent war you described would be silent no more and Zaun isn’t ready for that. It would be a massacre.”

“I know.”

“Then do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand. I’ll do my best to curb my reckless ways,” you said and he eyed you as if he didn’t quite believe you. “Look, I wasn’t kidding when I’d said I’d been alone for a long time. When you’re used to only being responsible to yourself then that allows a level of operating freely. I understand what I’m getting into here, Silco. Let me be perfectly clear about that and I would never do anything to jeopardize you, your brother, or anyone else that is a part of this group. I want to see a free Zaun.”

Silco’s face softened a bit as his hands slid down the side of your upper arms, “I believe you do and I believe you would do everything in your power to keep us safe. I’m asking you do the same for yourself.”

A sympathetic look crossed his face as you took in his words. Silco then took you by the hand and led you up to the counter in front of Jericho’s. Much to your amusement, it appeared when Jericho spoke a greeting to you both when you arrived, that Silco either didn’t understand him or ignored it. When you waited for Silco to order and Jericho asked him a question and Silco’s reply was completely off base, you grinned and knew. You leaned over and placed your finger across Silco’s lips to his utter surprise and annoyance before speaking in Jericho’s native tongue to him and finishing out the order for the both of you. The look on Silco’s face of utter disbelief and the broad grin from Jericho at your speaking in his native language made it all worth it.

Before Silco could even attempt to, you pulled a few coins from your pocket and set them on the counter in payment to Jericho with a wink and a thank you, again in his native tongue, as you then looked expectantly to Silco who shot you an incredulous look.

“What?”

“Thank the man,” you order as you suck the meat from the shell of a piece of fish you grabbed out of the bag and lick your fingers.

Silco swallowed and attempted his best mimicking of the thank you to him that you’d previously uttered and Jericho smiled broadly.

“Well done!” you said as you slapped Silco lightly on the back in appreciation before handing him his bag of food.

“Where did you learn to speak his language?” Silco asked once you’d moved a bit out of the main crowd as he picked at his food a bit.

No wonder you’re as skinny as a beanpole.

“Just something I picked up. I speak a few languages of the folk that travel in and out of the Lanes. Got a good ear for it. Makes it easier when I need to negotiate for things,” you shrugged and finished off the remainder of the food within your bag before crumpling it up in your hand.

Silco then angled his bag towards you in offer, “I’m not terribly hungry, would you like the rest?”

“You sure about that, Twiggy?” You asked with a grin and Silco glared daggers at you and shoved the bag into your hands. His demeanor suddenly changed though as you watched the corners of his mouth twitch to hide a laugh. You suddenly became self-conscious, “What do I have something on my face?”

“Perhaps,” he said calmly with a shrug as the corners of his mouth turned up even more.

You wiped furiously at your face with the sleeve of his shirt you were wearing and his grin widened, unable to be hidden, “Damnit, Silco, just tell me where it—“

You froze as he reached forward with his finger and swiped at the corner of your mouth. Silco then made a lewd show of licking off his finger with a pop. 

“There, all better,” he said with a knowing grin before he turned to walk in the direction of the sky port. 

It may have taken an embarrassing few moments to collect your senses enough to follow him.

The sky ports were a massive construction within Piltover that allowed for the import and export of everything under the sun coming into the great city. You remembered as a child being fascinated with airships and would watch them from the rooftops sometimes in awe as they would travel in and out of port. Today, you not only found yourself crossing the bridge into Piltover, something you generally tried to avoid unless the business need absolutely left you no other choice, but also coming up close enough to see the intricate details of the ships at bay. You’d been to the port before, but never this close to the ships as there was never a need. Silco guided the both of you to duck behind a grouping of crates off to the side as you both surveyed the area so you could tell exactly what you were dealing with.

“I’d thought you’d said they’d tripled the guard,” you began in a whisper as you elbowed him in the ribs and gave him a glare.

“I did.”

“This is more than triple, Silco. What the hell is going on here?”

“Well, that’s what we’re here to find out, now isn’t it?”

You sighed through your nose and shook your head, “Fuck, I need a cigarette.”

Silco chuckled darkly right before he suddenly came alert and motioned for you to duck down further behind the crates as an Enforcer’s patrol came closer to where you both were. You winced in a bit of pain, your stitches reminding you of your injury from earlier, as you crouched down under some tarp that was lain across the crates you and Silco were behind. Silco gave you a concerned look when he caught the pain flicker across your face before he squeezed in beside you, also under the tarp as you both waited. The agony of the odd position you were in and your injuries was only deepened when you caught the whiff of tobacco smoke wafting over near you both.

The two Enforcers had come over here on a smoke break.

Of fucking course.

“How much longer do you think we’re all going to have work extra shift like this?” One of the Enforcers, a young man, asked the woman who stood beside him as he lit her cigarette for her.

“Who knows,” the woman said as she exhaled smoke. “I’m tired of this gig already, though. I didn’t sign up to babysit construction materials and equipment. Where’s the action in that, huh?”

You and Silco exchange a glance as the Enforcers continue their conversation.

“I know, right? A bunch of lumber and supplies. I mean—honestly, do they think those stupid Trenchers care about this kind of stuff enough to need this kind of a protection detail? Piltover’s building all the time, so this isn’t anything new. It’s just weird if you ask me,” the man said as he finished his cigarette and stomped it out on the ground beneath his boot.

“Well—and you didn’t hear this from me,” the woman started before she leaned over to the man’s ear to continue. “I heard its more than just building materials. I heard its jewels.”

“Jewels?!” The man asked loudly in surprise before his counterpart shushed him.

You felt Silco’s hand find your shoulder and squeeze it at the mention of the jewels.

“Shut up, you idiot! You want to get us both in trouble?” The woman started before she continued in hushed tones. “Yes, jewels. Loads of them, imported from somewhere on the outskirts of Runeterra from what I gathered. Supposed to be worth a fortune. I also heard they’re being brought to the Academy. Being used in experiments or something.”

“Experiments?”

As the two were conversing, you slowly began to open a compartment on the heel of your boot. Silco caught the movement and watched silently as his brows furrowed, wondering what you might be up to as he still listened intently to the conversation evolving in front of you both.

“Yeah, it’s still all tied to that big new academy wing their building though, supposedly. Oh, and to use against those filth trenchers, too,” the woman said as you both overheard her take a long inhale and exhale of her cigarette.

Quietly, while still keeping one eye towards where the Enforcers were at, you then slid the blade that was affixed to the end of your braid into the compartment now opened in your bootheel. Once you removed it again, being careful not to touch yourself or Silco, you then slid the compartment closed. Just as you began to lean forward to maneuver past Silco, you feel his hand clamp down on your arm in an iron grip. You look up to find his eyes staring furiously back at you as you attempt to pull your arm out of his grip to no avail.

“Pfft,” the man says. “Probably all of this is just one more fancy thing for the Council. Jewels will be someone’s window décor or something for the wing.”

“I dunno,” the woman said in a sing-song voice. “I heard it’s magic.”

You glare angrily at Silco and the two of you proceed to have a silent war between each other, mouthing words back and forth.

Let. Me. Go, you begin.

What the fuck is this?! He mouths, over-enunciating his words so you could understand without him actually needing to speak aloud. You got the point.

You shake your head at him, knowing that you’d never be able to silently convey what exactly the substance now that glazed the tip of your blade was or what you were getting ready to do. Instead, you glanced up at him, into those oceanic eyes of his and simply mouthed one word:

Trust.

Silco stared at you for several long moments as you both heard the Enforcers near you chuckling at the very idea that magic was involved. When he eventually let up his grip on your arm, you nod in appreciation to him before motioning for him to stay back. You could scream with how much pain your midsection was in with the position you were in, much like a stalking cat, as you made your way to the space where to crates corners met, right behind where the two Enforcers stood. You heard Silco make a small noise of surprise as he watched you then swiftly swipe and cut at the backs of both of the Enforcers’ ankles. The two only had time to gasp before the both of them dropped in a crumpled heap to the ground. You immediately move around the outside of the crates, taking a quick look to make sure the coast was clear, and then proceed to pull one of the Enforcers back around the crates and out of view.

“Well, are you going to help me or not?” you ask as Silco spurs into action and brings the other one around the crates as well.

You then feel something cold come up under your chin as you find Silco’s dagger suddenly pressed into your throat, “I warned you about killing. What the hell were you thinking?”

“They’re not dead, you idiot. Now get that thing off my neck before I use my blade on you as well,” you ordered and glared at him as you made sure you saw you had your blade now pointed towards his forearm.

“If they’re not dead then what is this that I’m looking at?” he asked as he removed his dagger but kept it in hand.

“It’s a paralytic toxin of my own design,” you begin as you then wipe your blade on your trousers before then proceeding to start to strip off the woman’s uniform. “Hurry up. This will only give us about an hour before they wake up and alert others. It will give us enough time to slip into their uniforms so we can get a closer look at things.”

Silco curses under his breath and runs his hand back through his hair in frustration before setting into action to remove the uniform from the man in front of him. With only the sounds of shuffling of clothes and buckles surrounding you, the two of you wordlessly manage to get the uniforms removed. As you pulled his shirt off over your head, you heard Silco utter your name softly, but with some urgency, getting your attention. You followed his eyes to your torso where there was a light line of red down the center of the bandaged area. 

Shaking your head, you sighed, “Looks like the big one didn’t hold up.”

Silco reaches for you, as if he was getting ready to check the stitches and says your name before you grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“We don’t have time. I’ll be fine.”

“You are certain?” he began as he pulled his own shirt over his head to remove it and you got a full view of lean muscle, scars, and long lines.

Suddenly your throat was dry.  “Y-Yes. I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” you stammered a bit, distracted by seeing so very much of his skin, before you pointedly look away to finish dressing.

You took the pack that the woman was wearing and stuffed yours and Silco’s old clothes into it once you both were dressed.   Slinging it over both your shoulders you reached down to pull from your own boots that you still wore, your nebulizer. After giving it a good shake for several seconds, you inhaled deeply and waiting to feel your lungs open a bit.

“That going to be a problem?” Silco asked as he noticed him place the hat of the uniform upon his brow.

“Nope. That’s why I’m getting ahead of things and taking a dose before we set out to play pretend,” you say with a grin as you then looked over to him…and proceeded to snort a laugh.

Never in all your days had you seen a more ridiculous sight than Silco’s long, wavy hair spilling out madly beneath the hat that had been rammed over it atop his head.

“What?” he asked, offended.

You shook your head and walked over behind him, “Nothing, but if I had a camera right now, you’d never in a million years be able live down this moment. Especially if I showed Vander the picture. Come here, let me fix this in a bit more proper fashion so you don’t look like a wild beast in Piltoverian clothing.”

Silco held his head back a bit as you pulled one of the bands from your braid off and used it to pull his hair into a low ponytail before placing the hat back upon his head.

He turned around and spun in a circle with his hands wide for you to look him over, “Satisfied?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure if that’s the word I’d use, but you look presentable now, so yes,” you said with a wink before grabbing one of the Enforcer’s rifles and slinging into place within the pack on your back. “Shall we?”

Silco grabbed the other rifle and slung the strap of it over his shoulder as he came up to walk beside you and you made your way deeper into the port together, attempting to blend in. 

“So you’d say your not satisfied?” Silco started with a slight smirk in attempting to make some small talk—either out of nervousness at the situation, an attempt to blend in with the other officers, or just a blatant ploy to get under your skin, you weren’t sure.

“No, a man in uniform doesn’t really do it for me, if that’s what you’re asking, darling,” a cat-like grin formed upon your lips as the two of you kept walking.

Out of the corner of your eye, his lopsided smile began to creep up his face to match yours before he spoke, “So then what does satisfy you, sweetheart?”

“Where’s the fun in telling you? I’d much rather you—” you began before another officer walked up to the two of you and stopped you.

“Just where do you two think you’re going?” the stout man asked as he crossed his arms and halted you both from moving any further.

Silco and you exchanged a look before he shrugged. “Well, officer, we were going over to that ship as we’d been ordered by Sheriff Grayson over there,” Silco began as you tried very hard to not act surprised as he motioned over to a crowd of Enforcers a long ways away from where you three were, “before we were so rudely interrupted. Clearly, you don’t recognize either of of us…and you are?”

By the time he’d finished speaking, Silco had stood to his full height which was a full head taller than the man in front of you as he leered down his nose at the him with an air of superiority. You had to admit, getting a look like that from Silco felt intimidating, to say the least, and it wasn’t even directed at you. Playing along, you leaned up to Silco’s ear and pretended to whisper something while you both kept an eye on the man.

“Hmm, indeed,” Silco answered a pretend question out loud.

“Yes,” you used your best Piltie accent. “Though, I don’t believe we should reveal too much to this officer, Captain, especially since he seems very much to not be in the know.”

“Agreed.”

The man in front of you come suddenly to attention and stood and granted Silco a salute. “Captain, I do apologize, sir, it won’t happen again. I was merely advised to keep officers away from this particular shipment to ensure,” he began before he leaned in and whispered as if revealing a secret, “that no one could spread rumors about its cargo.”

“And you felt that telling us this was advisable when you have no idea who we are, officer?” Silco continued in the tone he’d used previously that seemed to have the man before you shaking in his boots as his eyes grew wide.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry, sir, I wasn’t thinking. I was—by Janna, I mean, its my third week here and I—please, please don’t go saying anything to Grayson. She’d have me behind a desk!”

You watched as Silco’s eyes narrowed at the man, as if considering his punishment. “Very well. I’ll let this slide just this once, but do not mistake this for leniency, officer. I want to make sure we’re setting a fine example of security for Piltover in this effort. Do we have an understanding?”

“Y-Y-Yes.”

“Yes…what?” Silco drawled as he had the audacity to proceed to light a cigarette from his pocket and then exhale smoke into the man’s face through his nose.

“Oh, oh, yes, sir.”

“Good boy,” Silco said as he walked past and you followed him with a nod to the man. You both walked together in silence for a while as Silco led you up the gangplank of the ship that you’d used as your cover story.

Once you both reached a spot where you were no longer visible, you let out a long sigh accompanied by a laugh, “I underestimated you, darling. That was brilliantly played. Are you sure you don’t have that formal education we’d talked about? Maybe someone in theater?”

“Shut up,” he gave you a half-hearted glare as you noted the slight uptick of his scarred lip.

“So why this ship?” 

“What?”

“Why did you use this ship for our cover? Any particular reason or did you just pull that out of your ass?”

Silco leveled you with the same glare he’d previously given the officer and paused for a moment before answering in a serious tone, deadpanning, “I pulled it out of my ass.”

You both stared at each other for a few seconds before laughing, “I knew it.”

“In all seriousness,” he began as his laugher died down and he began to look around. “I actually did have a point in using this ship in the dialogue. As we were bantering—“

“Flirting—“

“Bantering,” Silco clarified to you as you grinned at the tease, “our way up here, I’d noticed that all of the foot traffic of loading and unloading the cargo were from the other few ships here in port. Yet, this one seemed to have the heaviest guard.”

“I caught that, too. I also caught that it seemed like maybe the guard at front were waiting for something…or someone, for that matter,” you made your way over to the doorway the led into the ship’s hull. “So we may wish to hurry things along before we have company, I’d say.”

“Agreed. I’ll take topside, you look in the cargo hold, but don’t dally.”

“‘Dally’? Honestly, Silco, who talks like that?”

He breaths your name out his nose in frustration as you gave him another shit-eating grin, relishing in just how easy it was to get him ruffled, before you ducked below deck to take a look around. You found yourself in near-complete darkness upon shutting the door behind you. Quickly, you find your lighter within the pack and light it as you descend the stairs. Spying a lantern off to the side upon a desk, you make your way over and light it in order to illuminate the space before you. The ship itself wasn’t large, by any means, and so the hold you found yourself in wasn’t this vast space with a lot of areas to hide things. The area itself was likely no larger than the main space of The Last Drop, you’d surmise, as you began to look around. 

You jumped when you heard a voice that you’d not heard in a long while call out your full name.

“You don’t belong here, my dear,” a very tired, beaten down Petyr Singed said from within a holding cell off to the side of the space.

With a gasp, you ran over to kneel in front of him in the cage he was held within, “Petyr, I was just talking about you a while ago! What are you doing here?!”

The older man looked up into your eyes and his own held tears, “Punishment that I deserve.”

“No, they cannot do this to you. I won’t let them,” you swear as you rummage through your pack and pull out a small metal lock pick from your old pants and begin to attempt to pick the lock on the cage door.

His long, cold fingers wrapped around one of your hands through the cage bars as he shook his head at you, with a sadness, “Orianna…my little girl, my only child, she’s…she’s gone. It’s my fault, you see. That’s why I’m here, among other things.”

“Oh, Petyr. Petyr, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“I told them it was an accident. One of the experiments the Council had me working with Professor Heimerdinger. It was supposed to help people,” he began as he wiped at the corner of his eyes. “To heal people…”

“Petyr—“

“She was dying,” he said with a fire behind his eyes as he looked at you with conviction. “It..it should have saved her. It would have saved her. He didn’t understand. Tried to make me slow down, to stop. Said it was wrong. Unnatural, was the word he used. And then…oh, my Ori…”

You reached through the bars and placed your hand on the side of his face, “Petyr, I’ve known you and your daughter for a very long time. You’ve done nothing but try to help every person who’s lives you touched. Whatever this is that caused them to lock you up, whatever you believe you deserve, you would never try to hurt anyone. Let me free you. I can get you out of here and we can figure this out together.”

His clammy cold hand came to rest beside yours on his face, “Your breathing’s gotten worse, hasn’t it? I can hear it rattling when you speak. When you breathe…That’s why you’d been talking about me. Isn’t it?”

The whiplash of a conversation change had you stop and shake your head. There wasn’t time for this, you thought, as you ignored his question and started once again to try to open the lock. With a satisfying click, it unlocked after a few moments and you pulled the lock off and moved to open the cage door. Suddenly, you froze, and so did Petyr, when you both heard footsteps begin coming down the stairs behind you. Quickly, you snuff out the lantern and roll behind the cage he was held within and lay flat upon the ground. In the darkness, you hear him shift in front of you where his body would hide you behind him as your eyes began to slowly adjust to the dark. You hear the clicking of boots on the wooden floor of the hull moving towards you before a male voice curses under his breath. A shuffling noise briefly occurs before you hear the striking of a lighter and light illuminates the room, once again.

Silco stands in the center of the space and looks around before his eyes fall on Petyr Singed and narrow, “Who are you?” 

[quotient-12-3]

How to Choose Kitchen Decoration Accessories

Introduction:

kitchen Decoration Accessories is much of the time thought about the core of the home, where family feasts are ready and recollections are made. In that capacity, beautifying your kitchen can fundamentally upgrade its usefulness and atmosphere. Picking the right kitchen adornment embellishments can change your space from only utilitarian to really welcoming. Here is a thorough manual for assist you with choosing the best frill for your kitchen

1. Kitchen Decoration Characterize Your Style

Distinguish Your Kitchen Style Prior to choosing embellishments, characterizing the style and subject of your kitchen is urgent. Well known styles include: Present day: Smooth lines, moderation, and unbiased varieties. Rural: Warm, regular components like wood and one of a kind frill. Customary: Exemplary plans with fancy subtleties and rich surfaces. Modern: Unrefined substances, like metal and uncovered block. Farmhouse: Comfortable, country-motivated stylistic layout with an emphasis on usefulness. Pick a Variety Plan Your frill ought to supplement your kitchen's variety range. Whether you favor intense differentiations or unobtrusive tones, guarantee that your embellishments blend with your current style.

2. Kitchen Decoration Center around Usefulness

Think about Commonsense Frill Extras shouldn't just look great yet in addition upgrade the usefulness of your kitchen. A few pragmatic choices include: Capacity Arrangements: Snappy containers, holders, and bins for putting together storeroom things. Cookware Holders: Alluring racks or holders for pots, skillet, and utensils. Cutting Sheets: Enriching yet useful cutting sheets that can twofold as serving plate. Redesign Ordinary Things Regular things like dish racks, towel bars, and zest racks can likewise act as improving components. Pick plans that fit your style while addressing functional necessities.

3. Add Individual Contacts

Craftsmanship and Prints Present character with kitchen-themed craftsmanship or prints. Consider pieces that mirror your inclinations or supplement your variety plot. Blackboards or whiteboards can likewise add a practical and fun component to your kitchen. Adaptable Style Things like monogrammed towels, customized cutting sheets, or custom covers can add an exceptional touch and cause the space to feel more private.

4. Integrate Surfaces and Materials

Blend and Match Materials Blending different surfaces and materials can add profundity and interest to your kitchen style. Think about joining: Wood For warmth and normal excellence. Metal For a smooth, present day touch. Glass For a hint of polish and straightforwardness. Clay For solidness and variety assortment. Delicate Materials Integrate materials like pads for eating seats, brightening carpets, and a la mode window medicines. These components can mellow the hard surfaces and add a comfortable vibe to the space.

5. Lighting Matters

Layered Lighting Lighting assumes a critical part in setting the state of mind and usefulness of your kitchen. Join: Encompassing Lighting: For by and large enlightenment. Task Lighting: For explicit regions like ledges and sinks. Complement Lighting: To feature beautifying components or building highlights. Stylish Apparatuses Think about jazzy lighting apparatuses like pendant lights, crystal fixtures, or current mounted light to upgrade your kitchen's stylistic theme.

6. Pick In vogue Capacity Arrangements

Open Racking Open racks can show alluring dishes, crystal, and enriching things. Guarantee they are coordinated flawlessly to keep a cleaned look. Enriching Holders Decide on ornamental capacity compartments that serve both capability and style. Glass containers, earthenware canisters, and woven bins can add appeal and common sense to your kitchen.

7. Plant life and New Components

Indoor Plants Kitchen Decoration Adding indoor plants can reinvigorate your kitchen. Pick low-upkeep choices like spices, succulents, or greeneries that flourish in indoor circumstances.New Blossoms A jar of new blossoms can light up the space and add a dash of normal magnificence.

8. Think about Occasional Stylistic theme

Occasional Contacts Changing out style extras with the seasons can keep your kitchen feeling new and refreshed. Contemplate adding occasional things like bubbly towels, themed dishes, or improving highlights for occasions.

9. Financial plan Shrewdly

Kitchen Decoration Focus on Your Buys Conclude which embellishments are fundamental and which are simply beautiful. Put resources into excellent things where it matters most, yet feel free to shop deals or look for spending plan well disposed choices for insignificant pieces. Do-It-Yourself Ventures Consider Do-It-Yourself projects for a customized touch. Redoing your own kitchen extras can be both financially

[shellandcore]

What are the most stylish bathroom fittings for an apparel showroom?

When it comes to designing an apparel showroom, every detail counts, including the bathroom fittings. Stylish and functional bathrooms can leave a lasting impression on customers and reflect the overall aesthetic of your brand. So, what are the must-have bathroom fittings to take your showroom to the next level?

Start with sleek, modern faucets. Go for matte black or brushed gold finishes to add a touch of luxury. Pair these with minimalist sinks—think wall-mounted or vessel sinks for a contemporary vibe. Next, choose a chic mirror; round or oval shapes with LED backlighting can make a statement and provide flattering lighting.

Don’t overlook the shower area if you have one. Frameless glass shower enclosures with rain showerheads can bring a spa-like feel to your space. Finally, finish off with stylish accessories like towel bars, soap dispensers, and even elegant plants to bring the space together.

For showrooms in Dubai looking to stand out, working with experienced professionals is key. Trusting fit out companies in Dubai can ensure that your showroom’s bathroom is not just functional, but also a stylish extension of your brand’s identity. Make a splash with these fittings and wow your customers from the first step in the door.

[charliesplumbing]

11 Tips for Choosing the Perfect Water Tap for Your Bathroom

When people think about bathrooms, the first things that come to mind are toilet bowls, mirrors, and sinks. However, other things in the bathroom also need attention, like water taps. Choosing one needs to be done correctly because it can impact the entire look and feel of the place. They have various styles and finishes, making the purchase process overwhelming. To help you find your water tap, here are some tips you may want to consider:

Get Professional Advice

An emergency plumber Brisbane Northside has been helping many homeowners ensure that every issue they have is addressed immediately. They do not need to wait for a new day to get their plumbing concerns fixed, especially if they require immediate attention and care. But aside from this, plumbers can also help you with other things you need, like choosing the perfect water tap for your bathroom. They can tell you the good and trusted brands and see what works best for your home.

Consider the Style

There are different types of water taps, so be mindful of which one to choose for your bathroom. Ensure that they have unique features and aesthetic appeal that will complement the other things in the space. Some of what you will see are waterfall taps, single-hole faucets, mixer taps, and wall-mounted faucets.

Check Compatibility

Once you have eyed a style or type of faucet for your bathroom, you must check its compatibility first and see if it is the right fit. Ensure that it is compatible with your sink type and the overall appeal of the bathroom. If not, it is a sign to look for other types of faucets.

Measure the Spout Reach

If the water keeps splashing on the basin when turning the tap on, it means that the distance of the spout to the sink was not measured correctly. The splashing will just keep happening, contributing to wasting water and wet floors. Measure the spout reach with the help of professionals to ensure you are doing it correctly. You also need to do the same when it comes to the height of the faucet.

Think About Installation Complexity

The installation of the water tap is a huge factor in choosing the right one. If they are complicated enough, either you get the services of a professional plumber or choose a faucet that is easy to install.

Consider Maintenance Needs

Before buying a water tap, think about its maintenance. Will it be high maintenance or low maintenance? Choose the one that you will not miss giving attention to, especially if you are not at home all the time. A faucet must be easy to clean to remove water spots and fingerprints with ease.

Check for a Warranty

Everything you purchase, even if it is not for your bathroom, must have a warranty. It helps you to be protected against defects. If you do not have a warranty on your water tap, there is a possibility that you will spend an amount for it to get fixed or replaced.

Assess the Aesthetics

Some people might think that water taps are nothing and could not affect the bathroom much. However, it is where they are wrong. Choosing the wrong faucet can impact the entire look of the place. They might be out of place, wasting all the efforts you have made for your bathroom.

Budget Considerations

Whatever product or service you get, ensure a proper and correct budget. The last thing you would ever want is to overspend, especially if the money is tight and will be used for other things for your home. Set a budget before buying water taps and remember the ones that are on your list. 

Match with Other Fixtures

Even the looks of your bathroom need to be checked and considered before buying things for them. It is not any different when it comes to purchasing water taps, considering that it needs to match other fixtures in your bathroom, including towel bars and showerheads.

Opt for a Trusted Brand

To find the perfect water tap for your bathroom, you also need to search for a brand that many people trust and buy. One search on the internet and you will see all the brands that offer high-quality and reliable water faucets, making them last for years with proper maintenance.

Everything you buy for your bathroom needs to undergo proper choosing to ensure that they are the right one. It is not any different when it comes to water faucets. May these tips help you find the perfect one for your bathroom.

[custombuildershouston]

Bathroom Product Selection Check List

Cabinets

Paint or Stain  Door Style

Door Glass

Cabinet Lighting

Drawer Hardware Guides , Pull

Door Hardware Pulls , Hinges

Cabinet Open Shelving

Drawer Inserts

Vanity Storage Organizer

Crown Mold

Valance

Toe Kick Style

Plumbing Fixtures

Vanity Sink / Strainers

Vanity Faucet

Toilets & Handle & Seat

Bandit & Value Trims & Seat

Shower Values & Trims

Tub

Tub Spout & Value w Trims

Counter Tops

Material

Counter Edge Style

Under mount or Drop in Sinks

Wall & Tub Surround Materials

Stone

Ceramic

Lighting

Wall mount fixtures

Cabinet lighting fixtures

Ceiling Lighting

Flooring

Materials

Patterns

Layout Patterns

Glass

Shower Doors

Mirrors

Glass Block

Toiletry Hardware

Towel Bars

Toilet Paper Holders

Towel Rings

Robe Hooks

Towel Warmer

Ceiling Moldings

Special Product Notes

Source URL. https://www.marwoodconstruction.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Bathroom-Product-Selection-Check-List.pdf

[kratomcapsules12]

Delta Products: A Comprehensive Guide to Buying Quality Home Fixtures

Delta products have long been synonymous with quality, innovation, and style in the home fixtures market. From faucets and showerheads to kitchen sinks and bathroom accessories, Delta has established itself as a leading brand that homeowners trust. This article aims to guide you through the process of buying Delta products, highlighting key features, benefits, and tips for making the best choices for your home.

We at Smokegem aim to be the best and most convenient online smoke shop to provide the best smoke shop products and services. We believe in customer satisfaction and long term relationship which we have been providing for last 6 years. We are one stop shop for your smoke shop needs with variety of products. With us, you will always find newest products in the market. Buy Delta Product has long been synonymous with innovation, reliability, and quality across a wide range of industries. From home improvement and construction to aerospace and automotive sectors, Delta has established itself as a trusted brand with a global presence.

Why Choose Delta Products?

Quality and Durability

Delta is renowned for its commitment to producing high-quality products that stand the test of time. The brand uses premium materials and cutting-edge manufacturing techniques to ensure durability and reliability. Whether it's a faucet that resists rust and corrosion or a showerhead that delivers consistent water pressure, Delta products are built to last.

Innovative Technology

Delta incorporates innovative technologies into their products to enhance functionality and convenience. Features such as Touch2O® Technology, which allows you to turn on your faucet with a simple touch, and H2Okinetic® Technology, which provides a powerful yet water-efficient shower experience, set Delta products apart from the competition.

Stylish Designs

With a wide range of styles and finishes, Delta products cater to diverse aesthetic preferences. Whether you prefer a modern, sleek look or a classic, timeless design, Delta offers fixtures that complement any home décor. Popular finishes include chrome, stainless steel, brushed nickel, and oil-rubbed bronze.

Key Delta Product Categories

Faucets

Delta faucets are a staple in many kitchens and bathrooms due to their reliability and stylish designs. When selecting a Delta faucet, consider the following:

- **Functionality**: Determine whether you need a single-handle or double-handle faucet, and look for additional features such as pull-down sprayers or touchless operation.

- **Finish**: Choose a finish that matches your existing fixtures and overall décor.

- **Installation Type**: Ensure the faucet is compatible with your sink or countertop configuration, whether it’s a single-hole, center-set, or widespread installation.

Showerheads and Shower Systems

Delta showerheads and shower systems offer a luxurious bathing experience with various spray settings and water-saving technologies. Key considerations include:

- **Spray Patterns**: Look for showerheads with multiple spray settings to customize your shower experience.

- **Water Efficiency**: Consider WaterSense® labeled products that save water without compromising performance.

- **Mounting Options**: Choose between wall-mounted, handheld, or ceiling-mounted showerheads based on your bathroom layout and personal preference.

Kitchen and Bathroom Accessories

Delta also offers a wide range of accessories to complete your kitchen or bathroom, including soap dispensers, towel bars, and toilet paper holders. These accessories are designed to complement Delta faucets and fixtures, providing a cohesive look.

Tips for Buying Delta Products

Assess Your Needs

Before purchasing Delta products, assess your specific needs and preferences. Consider factors such as the style of your home, your budget, and any specific features you desire. This will help narrow down your options and ensure you select the best products for your space.

Read Reviews and Ratings

Customer reviews and ratings can provide valuable insights into the performance and reliability of Delta products. Look for feedback on factors such as ease of installation, durability, and customer service. Websites like Amazon, Home Depot, and Lowe’s often feature detailed reviews from verified buyers.

Shop at Authorized Retailers

To ensure you are purchasing genuine Delta products, buy from authorized retailers. This also ensures that you receive the full warranty and support offered by Delta. Authorized retailers include major home improvement stores, plumbing supply stores, and reputable online retailers.

Consider Professional Installation

While many Delta products are designed for easy DIY installation, some fixtures, especially those requiring plumbing adjustments, may benefit from professional installation. Hiring a licensed plumber can ensure proper installation and prevent potential issues down the line.

Conclusion

Buy CBD Products Online are a top choice for homeowners seeking quality, innovation, and style in their home fixtures. By understanding your needs, reading reviews, shopping at authorized retailers, and considering professional installation, you can make informed decisions and enjoy the lasting benefits of Delta products in your home. Whether upgrading your kitchen, bathroom, or both, Delta offers a wide range of options to enhance the functionality and aesthetic appeal of your living spaces.

[javierspaintinghandyman]

Family-Friendly Bath Remodel in Hallandale Beach, Dania Beach, Miramar, Davie, and Hollywood, FL 

When planning a family-friendly bath remodel in Hallandale Beach, Dania Beach, Miramar, Davie, and Hollywood, FL, several key factors must be considered to ensure the space is safe, durable, and functional for everyone in the household. The bathroom must cater to varying needs and preferences from toddlers to adults. Following are essential design considerations, safety features, durable materials, and storage solutions to create a family-friendly bathroom that works for everyone.

Design Considerations for a Family-Friendly Bathroom

A family-friendly bathroom should prioritize accessibility, ease of use, and efficient layout. Here are some design considerations to keep in mind:

Universal Design: Incorporate universal design principles to make the bathroom accessible to people of all ages and abilities. This includes features like a walk-in shower, adjustable shower heads, and grab bars.

Separate Zones: If space allows, it is essential to create distinct zones for different activities, such as bathing, dressing, and grooming. This can help minimize congestion and ensure multiple family members can use the bathroom simultaneously.

Double Sinks: Installing double sinks can reduce morning rush-hour conflicts and make it easier for more than one person to get ready simultaneously.

Child-Friendly Fixtures: Choose fixtures that are easy for children to use, such as lever-handle faucets and low-mounted towel hooks.

Bright and Inviting: Use light, neutral colors to create a colorful and inviting space. Ample lighting, including natural light, task lighting, and ambient lighting, is crucial for safety and functionality.

Safety Features

Safety is paramount in a family-friendly bathroom. Here are some essential safety features to incorporate:

Non-Slip Flooring: To prevent slips and falls, consider non-slip flooring materials. Textured tiles are excellent choices for enhancing safety.

Rounded Edges: Choose fixtures and furniture with rounded edges to minimize the risk of injury from sharp corners.

Thermostatic Shower Valves: Install thermostatic shower valves to prevent scalding by maintaining a consistent water temperature.

Grab Bars: Install grab bars in the shower, bathtub, and near the toilet to provide support and stability for all family members, especially young children and older adults.

Shatterproof Glass: Use shatterproof glass for shower doors and mirrors to reduce the risk of injury from broken glass.

Durable Materials

Durability is crucial in a family bathroom to withstand daily wear and tear. Here are some durable materials to consider:

Porcelain and Ceramic Tiles: These materials are highly durable, water-resistant, and easy to clean, making them ideal for flooring and walls.

Quartz Countertops: Quartz is a non-porous, stain-resistant material that is easy to maintain and perfect for bathroom countertops.

Solid Surface Materials: For sinks and bathtubs, solid surface materials are durable, low-maintenance, and available in various styles and colors.

Vinyl Flooring: Vinyl flooring is water-resistant, easy to clean, and available in various styles, including those that mimic the look of natural materials.

Ample Storage Solutions

Ample storage is essential in a family bathroom to keep the space organized and clutter-free. Here are some storage solutions to consider:

Vanities with Drawers and Cabinets: Choose vanities with plenty of drawers and cabinets to store toiletries, towels, and other essentials.

Wall-Mounted Shelves: Install wall-mounted shelves to provide additional storage without taking up floor space.

Built-In Niches: Incorporate built-in niches in the shower and bathtub area to store bath products conveniently.

Over-the-Toilet Storage: Utilize the space above the toilet with over-the-toilet shelving units or cabinets.

By considering these design elements, safety features, durable materials, and ample storage solutions, one can create a family-friendly bathroom in Miramar that is functional, safe, and aesthetically pleasing for everyone in the household. A bath remodel can also enhance the property's value. Another way to enhance the property value is by considering house painting in Hollywood, FL, Davie, Hallandale Beach, Miramar, and Dania Beach, FL.

[maruthiceramics]

Ultra-Fine Bathroom Aesthetics by Delta

Delta’s Sink Accessories

Soap Dispensers

When it comes to enhancing the look and functionality of your bathroom, soap dispensers are a small but impactful addition. Delta offers a wide range of soap dispensers that not only add a touch of elegance to your sink but also bring convenience to your daily routines. With finishes ranging from classic Chrome and Stainless to unique hues like Champagne Bronze™ and Venetian Bronze, you can personalize your space with ease. Delta’s soap dispensers come in various finishes to suit any design preference. If you prefer a bright, reflective look, Chrome and Polished Nickel provide a clean, timeless appeal. For a more muted, contemporary vibe, Black stainless steel and Matte Black are excellent choices that add a touch of modernity. Each finish is meticulously crafted to enhance your sink’s aesthetic while providing long-lasting durability. Delta soap dispensers are available in different styles to complement your overall decor. The Contemporary style is perfect for those who favour sleek, minimalist designs, while the Traditional style brings a classic, timeless charm to your space. With Delta bathroom accessories extensive selection of finishes and styles, you can effortlessly find the perfect soap dispenser that not only meets your functional needs but also enhances the visual appeal of your bathroom or kitchen.

Mirrors

Delta allows you to personalize a bathroom mirror to match your style and décor with a variety of sizes and shapes to fit your space. You can choose your glass type, frame style, and mounting preference, with over 200 unique combinations available to ensure you find something you love. Follow the color-coding system on our packaging to ensure you have the correct pieces. These mirrors, suitable for any room but especially perfect for bathrooms, feature moisture-resistant frames made from 80% recycled materials and glass with UV protective coating on the edges to prevent mold. Unlike most decorative mirrors, our mirrors are designed for high-moisture environments, offering both framed and unframed options.

Delta’s Showering Accessories

Hooks and Towel Bars & Shelves

Enhance the look and functionality of your bathroom with Delta’s stylish Hooks and Rings. Whether you’re adding a towel ring, towel hook, or robe hook, Delta offers a wide selection to perfectly complement your Delta faucet. Available in finishes such as brushed nickel, chrome, champagne bronze™, and more, these accessories provide a sleek and cohesive look to your bathroom design. Choose from contemporary, traditional, and transitional styles to match your décor and elevate your bathroom’s aesthetic. Delta’s Towel Bars and Shelves further add function without compromising style. With a variety of sizes, styles, and finishes, you can easily find the perfect towel bars to suit your design preferences. Finishes like chrome, stainless, black stainless, polished nickel, champagne bronze, Venetian bronze, and matte black are available to ensure seamless integration with your existing bathroom accessories. Whether your taste leans towards contemporary, traditional, or transitional styles, Delta has the right accessories to upgrade and coordinate your bathroom effortlessly.

Delta’s Bathing Accessories

Bathroom Grab Bars

Enhance both function and safety in your bathroom without compromising on style. Explore our range of ADA-compliant bathroom grab bars available in finishes such as chrome, stainless steel, bronze, and more. Choose from a variety of styles to complement your bathroom design. Find the perfect grab bar for placement near your toilet, tub, shower, or wall to help you navigate your bathroom with ease.

Delta’s Steam Accessories

Tilt-up Shower Seats

Enjoy comfort during your steam sessions with a wall-mounted, folding shower seat. Designed for 20-minute steam showers, these fold-down seats provide a comfortable experience without taking up extra space. When installed according to ADA accessibility guidelines, our folding shower seats ensure compliance and convenience.

Delta’s Toilet Accessories

Toilet Tank Levers and Toilet Tissue Holders

Delta’s Toilet Tank Levers and Toilet Tissue Holders are among the best products available, offering unique designs specifically crafted for enhanced functionality. These products come in a variety of finishes to match your bathroom decor, including Chrome, Stainless, Black Stainless, Polished Nickel, Champagne Bronze, Venetian Bronze, and Matte Black. With Delta’s quality and aesthetic appeal, you can be assured of both style and performance in your bathroom fixtures.

Maruthi Ceramics proudly offers Delta’s exceptional collection of bathroom accessories, renowned for their quality and style. We understand the importance of finding the perfect bathroom accessories to complement your home. Now conveniently located in several prominent areas of Bangalore, including Banaswadi, Indira Nagar, Rajaji Nagar, Lavelle Road, and JP Nagar, you can explore our extensive range of products.  Our knowledgeable and friendly staff are dedicated to helping you select the ideal products to suit your needs and preferences. Visit us at any of our Bangalore locations to experience the full range of Delta’s bathroom accessories.