#Geometric Pillow Cover

[nadiahejazia]

[habatour20]

Modern abstract geometric digital pattern design 13

Throw Pillow

[elyxir]

Contemporary Family Room - Family Room Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary enclosed medium tone wood floor and brown floor family room remodel with white walls, a wall-mounted tv and no fireplace

[lees-chaotic-brain]

swapped! (todoroki x reader)

summary: after you get hit with a strange quirk, you swap bodies with your long time crush and hero partner todoroki shouto. somehow, every single thing that could possibly go wrong goes wrong and chaos ensues. idea dump here

genre/content warnings: afab reader, reader has some sort of telekinesis quirk for plot efficiency (i got lazy sorry), suggestive, periods, reader is implied to have a heavy flow but it's really just for the plot to ensure maximal crack, mentions of blood, swearing, fluff, crack, todoroki is a little shit (when is he not)

wc: 5.9k (oopsies this is my longest fic to date)

note: this is for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab! (sorry it's late andie) it is also one of my sponsored fics for @ficsforgaza's fundraiser! i couldn't fit all the scenes i wanted into the fic without ruining the flow, so go check them out and sponsor them if you want to read more! also everyone needs to go say thank you to @thelov3lybookworm for giving me the push i needed to stop making excuses and find solutions so i could post. thanks girl <3

i'm not sure how i feel about the ending, but i think it's as good as it's going to get! since i haven't written in a little while and things have been tough, likes, reblogs, and comments would be so so appreciated, and will help me get the next fic on my list done faster!!!

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The first thing you notice when you finally emerge from the depths of your slumber is how comfortable you were. Everything feels just right, your pillows are cool against your neck, and your sheets hold the perfect amount of warmth; enough to keep you cozy, but not so hot that your sweat is creasing the silky sheets and making you feel sticky and gross.

The second thing you notice is the very large, very male hand sprawled on the pillow next to your head. A deep male voice lets out a surprised cry as you jerk back, the hand moving with you.. It takes you several moments to realize that it had come from you. 

Your bare feet thump against the wood paneled floor as you stumble out of bed disoriented and realize where you are for the first time. Namely, not in your bedroom.

Glancing around in confusion, you wonder what the hell happened, and how you ended up somewhere so nice.. The space itself is fairly bare, but you can tell that all of the furniture inhabiting it is expensive. From the sleek wooden dresser to the geometric modern light fixtures to the insanely high thread count of the sheets, everything screams tasteful luxury. 

Where are you? You definitely feel asleep in your own bedroom. Reaching up you rake your hair out of your face and freeze. Instead of the familiar texture and length of your own hair, you’re greeted with short, silky soft strands that definitely did not belong to you.

Mussing your hair to make sure you’re not imagining things, you glance down, and for the first time notice some inexplicable things.For one, the ground is a lot farther away than it normally is, and for two, last time you checked you did not have washboard abs, or a male anatomy.

The entire situation was confusing, and you were still slightly sleep-addled. Despite that you knew that you needed to find a mirror. A quick glance around the room located one in the corner and you hurry over to it. 

Sliding to a stop you grip the edges of the little stand, frost spreading from your right hand to cover the wood while you gaped at your appearance.

Intense heterochromatic eyes stared back at you, shock filling them. Your hair was a unique mess of red and white strands, the two colors mussed with sleep. With those distinctive features, plus high chiseled cheekbones, a jawline that could cut stone and a slim yet unfairly muscular body there was no doubt about it.

You were Todoroki Shouto. At least, that’s whose body you’re currently inhabiting. His very shirtless body. 

BZZZZZT BZZZZZZT

Saved from having to fight your urges to poke at his abs by the noise, you jump, swinging your gaze around in search of the origin.

BZZZZZZT BZZZZZZT

A simple black phone flashes on the otherwise empty nightstand (does he seriously not even have a lamp??), the caller i.d. sending you scrambling across the room to the phone. 

Fumbling in your haste, you manage to swipe and pick up the incoming call from your cell phone.

Your mind is racing a mile a minute. There were only two ways to get into your phone. The first was the password, but even you forgot it most of the time. It sat safely tucked away on a post it in the safe you store all of your important documents in. The second was through face i.d. and the only person who could unlock your phone with their face was you. And since you were in his body, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that he….Lifting the phone to your ear you speak hesitantly.

“Todoroki? Is that you?”

“Y/N?”

It was unnerving to hear your voice saying your name from the other end of the phone,

“What happened?!” You’re a little mortified to hear the hysteria lacing your words, but you can feel the panicked adrenaline flooding your veins as your body goes into fight or flight.

“I believe that the quirk we got hit with yesterday caused us to switch bodies. However, it is highly unlikely that it is permanent so it will be fine.” Even though it’s your voice, something about knowing Todoroki is on the other end was reassuring enough that some of the tension bled from your shoulders.

“That’s good.” You sigh, rubbing your face. There’s a mildly uncomfortable throbbing coming from your lower half, and you absentmindedly reach down to rub at it, forgetting you weren’t in your own body. Brushing against a bump in your gray sweatpants, you shiver as a familiar feeling spreads through your lower stomach and something twitches.

“Todoroki?” Your voice suddenly gets a little higher, the hint of hysteria from before returning to the normally deep monotone. “We have a problem.”

“What is it? Is something wrong?” 

Ignoring his questions, you stare in growing horror at the very obvious tent in the front of the sweatpants you were wearing. You have no idea how you didn’t notice it earlier, but now that you’ve seen what’s going on down there you can’t help but be extremely aware of the uncomfortable pressure. 

“Y/N? Please explain what’s going on. I’m growing concerned.”

“I-” You splutter, unable to form a coherent sentence. Finally you gather your wits enough to say something. “It’s uh, it’s hard.”

“What do you mean? What’s hard? Oh...” He trails off into embarrassed silence.

“OH?” You can’t handle this. “What do you mean ‘oh?!’ Do something!”

“Like what?” He sounds a little defensive. “What am I supposed to do from here?”

“I don’t know!” You’re shouting now. “But you have to do something! How am I supposed to sit here with your massive boner?!”

There’s a loud crash on the other end of the phone, and you jump. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” He answers a little too quickly, but his voice still retains his usual impassivity. “Anyways, returning to the problem at hand. It will go away on its own after a little while. Unless you would rather handle it yourself-”

“No!” You wince as you practically shout into the phone. “I mean, no it's okay. I feel like that would be unprofessional.”

You can hear the amusement in his voice as he responds. “I feel like this entire situation is rather unprofessional. After all, I did see your breasts this morning.”

There must be something wrong with your hearing because there’s no way he just said what you thought he did. In such a nonchalant manner at that. “Wha-What?” Embarrassingly your voice cracks as you rack your brain, frantically searching through your memories of the night before. Then it hits you. 

“You went to bed without pants, a shirt, and a bra last night.” He informs you matter of factly, and you must be going crazy because there’s no way that that’s smugness you’re picking up from him. “Judging from the temperature of your apartment I’d say that your air conditioning is broken. You should probably get that fixed.”

You’ve completely forgotten about the boner you’re currently sporting due to the mortification of it all. Of course the one time the two of you switch bodies it just has to be the day your AC broke and you went to bed in nothing but a pair of striped cotton undies.

A small part of you mourns that you weren’t wearing something sexier, but the larger part of you is screaming that he is your boss. Sure you’ve been friends for years, and you have a not so little crush on him, but you are his subordinate. This was going to make things so awkward in the office. Hopefully once this is all over you can go hunt someone with a memory erasing quirk down to wipe his mind. But maybe not yours. You kind of want to remember the toned planes of his abs and the impressive bulge in his sweats. 

Giving yourself a shake you chastise your internal voice. Absolutely not. That would be an invasion of his privacy. In fact, you should put on a shirt right this second to respect his privacy, not that he didn’t walk around with half of his hero suit burned off from time to time. Wait. A thought suddenly occurs to you.

“Wait. You have a shirt on now, right? You put on a shirt before calling me.” You laugh nervously, because of course he has more common sense than that. It’s not like he would just sit on the phone with you while your tits were hanging out, right? Right??

“Well no.” Your heart falls out of your ass and you accidentally sear a handprint into the edge of his nightstand at his casual answer. “It’s uncomfortably warm in here and without the use of my quirk I am unable to regulate my body's temperature. Aside from that, I don’t know where you keep your shirts so I prioritized calling you to discuss the situation over going through your personal belongings.

That all sounds perfectly reasonable and you would have fallen for it except for one little thing. “Todoroki. I know for a fact that I was too lazy to put my laundry away yesterday and there is a stack of clean t-shirts sitting on the end of my bed right now.” 

You hear rustling -is he still in your bed?!- as he leans forwards to check. “Oh. You’re correct. My apologies.” There’s more rustling and the sound of fabric sliding over skin as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. “It’s on now.”

“Thank you.” You pointedly ignore the fact that he did not sound the tiniest bit apologetic, filing it away to revisit later. For now, the two of you need to discuss what to do next. “I appreciate it. What’s the plan now though? I think we should meet at the agency as soon as possible and go from there.” 

“I agree.” He seems to lack the sense of urgency currently consuming you as he hums in agreement. It’s incredibly annoying. “We should probably give each other directions on what to do, and where to find the things we need.”

On second thought maybe it’s better that he’s calm and thinking clearly because that was an excellent idea. “That’s smart. I keep a pad of paper and a pen on my nightstand to jot down reminders if you want to use that. Where do you keep your paper?”

“Check my bookshelf.” The telltale sound of paper flipping told you that he found the notepad as you crossed the room and stopped in front of the simple wooden bookcase. “Where is it on your bookshelf?”

“I think I keep a notebook and a pad of paper on the middle shelf.” He sounds distracted and a little uncertain, but when you stoop down to check (it’s weird being this tall) you find a simple yellow legal pad and a black pen. “I got it.” 

“Okay.” The sound of a book closing accompanies his words and there’s a hint of some unidentifiable emotion lacing the two-syllables. 

Not thinking much of it you shrug it off, sitting down down at his desk and listening as he tells you where keeps his car keys, hero suit, and other necessities. You ask a few follow up questions, jotting down what cabinet he keeps his cologne and deodorant in, before launching into your own instructions.

“The first thing you need to do is start the coffee machine. Trust me. My body will not be happy unless you give it at least three cups of coffee or like two big energy drinks before 9 am. Next…” After you’re sure he has understood the importance of caffeine, you move on, explaining where you keep your clothes, car keys, and shoes, as well as where you parked your car. 

“Don’t worry about makeup or hair products or anything while you’re getting me ready. I know there’s a lot on my bathroom counter but it’s not necessary. But you do need to go into the first drawer on your left when you’re standing at the sink and grab my anxiety meds. They should be in an orange prescription bottle. Only take one. And please for the love of god do not forget to put a bra on. You got all that?”

“I believe so. Is there a specific outfit you want me to wear or should I just choose?” You stop and think. Left to his own devices there’s no knowing what he might put you in (his first hero costume proof of his abysmal sense of fashion) so it would be best to give him some guidance. “Could you just wear a casual sweater and some jeans?” 

“Yes. Let’s get ready and meet at the agency in about an hour. If that works for you.” There’s not much writing on the yellow legal pad, the black scrawl of your handwriting barely taking up half a page. Okay. It isn’t that much. You can do this. “That sounds good to me.”

“Oh, I also think it might be best if we kept this from the general employees at the agency for the time being just to reduce drama. Is that okay with you?” 

“Of course.” More than okay actually. Some of them were aware of your not-so-little crush on him, so it would spare you some teasing and interrogation.

There’s a couple seconds of awkward silence, and you get the feeling he wants to say something more, the tension crackling through the speaker of his stupidly expensive phone. Opening your mouth, you start to say something then realize you don’t really have anything to say. The awkward silence persists a couple seconds longer before he wishes you goodbye and hangs up.

Click. Click. Click. Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick. You didn’t even realize that you had started clicking the pen open and closed, a nervous habit of yours. Sheepishly you place the pen down on his desk and stand. Sure the vibes were kind of weird at the end there, but it’s not like anything worth making you nervous happened. The situation might not be ideal, but it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world. You could handle it. The worst part was already over. You just had to meet him at the agency, figure out what to do with the rest of the day, and wake up in your own body tomorrow. Piece of cake.

Gaping in horror, you realize that this was not, in fact, going to be a piece of cake. 

Getting ready had been easy enough so you had arrived at the agency a few minutes before your agreed meeting time, which fortunately/unfortunately put you in the perfect position to witness the walking shitshow.

You had been idly sipping at a cup of coffee, marveling at how many packets of sugar it had taken to make it acceptable to his taste buds when he staggered in, catching the eye of pretty much everyone in the lobby.

Hunched over weirdly, he staggered in, wearing a pair of jeans that rode just a little too low to be professional and a very white, very sheer shirt that was meant to be layered over an undershirt. Or, at the very least, with a sturdy, modest bra underneath.

Alas, you can only stare in abject horror at the sight of what everyone else would assume was you stumbling in, your nipples visible from across the room, the bra that should have been on your body clasped in one hand. 

You’re pretty sure you disassociated for a few seconds from sheer mortification, standing there unmoving for several seconds. Once you had processed (and gone through the seven stages of grief multiple times) you were bolting across the floor, seizing his (your?) arm and dragging him down the hall and into the family bathroom where no one could see.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you shove Todoroki/yourself into the small space, wincing as you watch him stumble in your body. Did you always seem this weak and small in his eyes? The sound of the lock clicking as you shut the door reminds you of the current situation and you turn on him, rage emanating from every pore of your being.

“I. Thought. I. Told. You. To. Put. On. A. Bra.” You’re hurt, and seriously pissed off, neatly trimmed nails digging into your thighs as you grip your pants. Humiliation courses through your body, pulsing behind your eyes in tears that you will not let fall, no matter what. “Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to embarrass me-”

“No.” It’s disconcerting watching yourself speak and move, but subtle mannerisms remind you that it’s Todoroki you’re looking at, not yourself in the mirror. “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear.”

“Then what is this?” You wave your hand at your body, flinching at what others must be whispering about you. “Do you want people to think I’m some sort of crazy person who goes around practically flashing people at their workplace? Someone who has no sense of decency?”

“Of course not.” His tone is as even as ever, but you can tell that he feels bad. “People here know what type of person you are. I’m sure they’re more concerned than anything.”

The fabric of his blue hero suit unscrunches as your hands drop to your sides, chest heaving as you take a deep breath. “I hope so.”

There’s vulnerability in your voice, and for a second you find peace in the quiet of the moment before he ruins it. “Besides, I’m more worried about my reputation than yours right now.”

You look up indignantly. “Why? I did everything you asked, and I’m fully dressed so I’m not sure why you’re complaining.”

He winces as your voice raises (maybe the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet) but he hides it quickly. “I mean, from their point of view, they just watched me forcibly drag my subordinate off and locked myself in a bathroom with her. They probably have all sorts of unseemly ideas about what I’m doing right now.”

You freeze. Shit. You hadn’t even considered what it would look like to the others. “I’m so sorry. We can explain this to everyone. Like you told me, everyone here also knows you, and that you would never do anything inappropriate.” 

“It’s fine.” He gives you a genuine, yet slightly strained smile. “I’m not too concerned. However, your body doesn’t feel great.”

‘What’s wrong?” You reach out and touch his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” Glancing down, you sigh. “First things first let's make you decent. You literally brought the bra. Why aren’t you wearing it?”

“The best way I can describe it is it’s similar to the time I accidentally ate Bakugou’s extra spicy curry, except it’s not in my stomach. It’s more in my abdomen. And I meant to wear it, I just couldn’t figure out how to get it on.”

“Okay. I can help with that.” You motion for him to lift his arms. “Take off your shirt.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Is now really the time?” The bathroom is silent as you give him a death look. “It’s my body. There is quite literally nothing about the body you are currently inhabiting that I do not already know about. Now, shirt. I’ll help put the bra on.”

Understanding that you were not in the mood, he hurriedly pulls the shirt off, and you’re presented with the sight of your bare torso. Ignoring the strange intimacy of the moment (it was literally your own body you had no idea why you felt weird) you help him slip his arms into the straps, then motion for him to turn around. 

He complies, and that’s when you see it. The relatively small, but somewhat noticeable stain on your crotch in the back of your pants. That’s why he wasn’t feeling good. Your body started your period.

The clasp of the bra dangles in your hands as you stare at it, evaluating your choices. One. You could pretend like nothing is happening but chances are he’s going to have to pee at some point during the day so he’ll find out eventually. Plus the stain wasn’t small.

Two. Be the mature, rational adult you are and calmly explain the situation. After all, there was nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a perfectly normal, perfectly natural, biological function that comes with being a female.

And three. Just leave and go crawl into your bed until this nightmare is over. Let him deal with it himself. 

Option number three was looking pretty good there for a moment and you were calculating how fast you could escape the agency without drawing attention when Todoroki spoke. 

“Everything okay? Why aren’t you doing the hook things?” Snapping out of your trance, you clumsily clasp the back, taking several tries to get all the hooks in the same row. Patting it, you tell him to put the shirt back on before taking a deep breath. “Hey, Todoroki?”

Wisps of hair emerge from the neckline of your shirt, followed closely by your head as he pops into your shirt. “Yes?”

“So like, it’s going to be okay and I swear I’ll help you and I’m sorry you have to deal with this but please whatever you do, don’t freak out. Promise?” He tilts his head slightly, regarding you with confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you say it’ll be okay I don’t see why I would feel the need to freak out.”

His calm response puts you somewhat at ease, and you just rip the bandaid off. “My body just started it’s period. With you in it. That’s why your abdomen was hurting. It was period cramps. Don’t worry, I’ll get you some advil soon. There’s a small stain on the back of your pants, but it’s not bad yet. However, it’s really heavy on my first day so we’re going to need to get a tampon in and a pad on asap.”

A blank stare is your only response. “What…is a tampon? And what does heavy mean? Also, does it always hurt this bad?” A small furrow appears between his brows, and you can tell he’s overthinking.

“Normally it’s only this bad for a few days, but I’m used to it by now.” You reassure him, grabbing a tampon and pad from the free dispenser on the wall. “And to answer your question, a tampon is basically a fancy roll of material that goes up there and absorbs the blood.”

You’re doing your best to remain calm and unbothered on the outside, but on the inside you’re losing your mind because there was absolutely no way that you were about to teach your crush how to insert a tampon into your cooch because you managed to swap bodies on the worst possible day.

He looks at you pensively as you approach him with the hygiene products. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

You pause, considering. How did you want to do this? It would be weird for you to put it in yourself, even if it was your body. The packaging crinkles in your hands as you turn the items over in your hand. The easiest route would be to have him just put the pad on, but you also didn’t want him to deal with the mess and discomfort of sitting in a pad. 

“Alright.” You clap your hands, the sharp sound echoing off the clean linoleum floors. “We’ll get a pad on first, then we’ll try the tampon. Ready?”

“Yes. How do I do that?” Okay. You can explain this. It’s not that complicated. “First things first, pull down your pants and underwear and sit on the toilet.”

A rustle of clothing and the click of the toilet seat against the porcelain bowl told you he had complied. “Wait, but like, don’t look okay. Keep your eyes averted.”

“Understood.” You choose to ignore the amusement in his voice, instead grabbing another pad and giving him a demo. Feeling guilty about the waste, you rip open one of the packages and pull out the pad. It’s thick, and made of cheap material like all free pads in public bathrooms tended to be.

Holding it up so he can see you demonstrate peeling the tab and unfolding it before peeling the sticky back off and showing it to him. 

“Basically you just have to remove the covering and stick it to the bottom of your underwear. Make sense?”

He nods, so you pass him the pad and watch him carefully peel back the appropriate backings and smooth it into the center of your panties. His eyes gleam at you hopefully as he looks up, and when you tell him he did a good job you could have sworn he preened. 

“Good job Todoroki.” A subtle frown pulls at his lips. “So for the tampon-”

“Shouto.” He cuts you off, looking disgruntled. “Call me Shouto.”

“I-What?” Thrown off guard by the sudden demand request you blink at him. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to what’s going on right now, but you’re my boss. It doesn’t seem right for me to address you so casually.”

“But you call me Shouto while we’re at work.” He stubbornly refuses to give the point up, clinging to it like a dog with their chew toy. “How is it any different?”

“Because-” You give him an exasperated look. “Some idiot decided to make his hero name his first name, so when he’s at work his co-workers are forced to use it. I don’t call you Shouto as in Todoroki Shouto. I call you Shouto as in Pro-Hero Shouto. That’s the difference.”

“But we’ve known each other for years.” He’s very matter of fact, clearly missing the point. “I would say we’re close enough for first names.”

He’s unbelievable. Of all the things to focus on right now why on earth is he choosing to argue over how you address him? “Of course we’re close. I consider you a good friend. But I wouldn’t say we’re close enough where it’s appropriate for me to address you by your first name when you’re my boss.”

“I’m currently in a bathroom with you right now, in your body, sitting on a toilet with no pants, on your period. I don’t see how we can possibly get any closer.” He had a point, and you just wanted to get this whole disaster sorted out as quickly as possible so you conceded. “Fine. Shouto. Now, will you please listen to me so we can get this over with and go on with our day?”

Using demonstrative hand motions and trying not to show how flustered you were you explained how to put the tampon in. Finally you finish, and hand him a tampon. He unwraps it, then hunches over in an awkward position trying to see what he was doing.

A red flush crawls up your neck as he quite literally examines your pussy, your insecurities running rampant, thoughts you’ve never had before occurring. Like, what if it looks weird? You didn’t exactly have a huge frame of reference, and all of your past experiences were horny hookups so you literally had no idea what it looked like from his point of view. He was probably repulsed by it. If everything that already happened hadn’t ruined any chance you had with him this was the final nail in the coffin.

A quiet splash cuts through the silence of the bathroom, interrupting your downward spiral. Looking up, you lock eyes with Todoroki, who’s frozen guiltily on the toilet.

“What just happened?”

“I, er, well I’m not sure.” Your eyes narrow. “What was the splash?”

“I did my best.” He sounds defensive. “I had a hard time finding…it…and it’s not easy to line it up and I think I did it wrong because as soon as I put it in it kind of just…spat it back out?”

Gaping at him, you’re at a loss for words before a loud, unflattering cackle rips itself out of your chest. The self-consciousness caused by the strangeness of the moment and being in the presence of your crush fading away as you reverted to treating him like you did in high school.

“Oh-Oh my god!” You’re doubled over, almost crying with how hard you’re laughing. “You can’t find it. You can’t even find the hole. You must be so popular with the ladies.”

As you laugh, a strange sensation builds in your stomach, and next thing you know it feels like you’re getting sucked into a vacuum and shot out the other end. Your vision goes black and fuzzy, the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom hurting your eyes when you finally open them.

When you finally open them and find yourself staring into the unimpressed face of one Todoroki Shouto that is. 

Seeing his face again instead of staring at yours is a relief, but it’s also unfortunate because now you are the one perched on the toilet, your pants hanging around your ankles and a tampon floating around in the toilet water beneath you. 

The two of you lock eyes, and you realize that now you’ve both returned to your own bodies it’s even worse that he’s seeing you half naked (don’t ask you why it just is somehow. Maybe it has something to do with him seeing it from his point of view instead of yours?). 

Embarrassment floods your face, and you yell at him to turn around, hurriedly grabbing another tampon and putting it in before using your quirk to retrieve the tampon from the toilet and dumping it into the trash. A rushed tug has your pants back on, and the two of you stand in the bathroom not moving or speaking. Finally you break the silence.

“Uh, well, anyways. I’m glad this all worked out, sorry for the inconvenience and how weird it was. I’m going to head home and enjoy my day off now. Have a nice day!”

Not giving him the chance to respond, you dart past him and out the door, ignoring him as he calls your name. Yeah right. Have a nice day? More like have a nice life. There was no way you could ever show your face around him again. Maybe you could call Kyoka up and ask her if she needed a new hero at the agency she shared with Denki.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t always go as planned, and you wake up the next morning to your phone buzzing. You called in sick the night before, partially because your cramps were really bothering you, and partially because you were avoiding Todoroki. 

Blearily, you roll over, pawing at your phone before lifting it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Good morning.” Immediately recognizing the smooth, deep voice belonging to none other than the one man you were actively trying to avoid, you do the only logical thing and hang up immediately. 

A couple seconds later your phone rings again, and this time you let it go to voicemail. The sharp trill of your ringtone reaches you through the pillow you pressed over your head, alerting you that he called several more times after that. Finally the calls stop, and you emerge from under the pillows, beating back the strange sense of disappointment rising in your chest.

Ping!

The sound of your phone chiming startles you, causing you to drop it. Picking it back up, you check your notifications with bated breath.

(1) New Message From: Todoroki Shouto

Scared to read the message, you hesitate to click on it, having no idea what to expect. Your thumb hovers over the banner, the light washing over your skin as you work up the courage to check it.

Ping!

Your phone lands on your carpet with a plop as you accidentally drop it over the edge of your bed, not expecting it to go off again.

Ping! Ping!

Cautiously, you poke your head over the edge of your bed, glancing down at the illuminated lock screen. You let out an internal screech of horror.

(4) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto

Unable to deal with the agony of not knowing what he said any longer, you scoop your phone up and tap the notification, scanning the messages, your heart dropping further and further the more you read.

Todoroki Shouto: Did you just hang up on me?

I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. Do you want anything?

*image attached*

Also: are these the chocolates you’re fond of? I asked my mother and sister and they told me they enjoy chocolate when they are menstruating. 

Those are, in fact, your favorite chocolates, but as much as you wanted them you wanted him at your apartment in fifteen minutes even less. The sound of aggressive tapping filled your room as you typed out a response at breakneck speed, praying to whatever was out there that he wouldn’t actually come to your place.

You: Good morning Todoroki-San. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you and hung up because I was half asleep. It’s sweet of you to think of me, but those are expensive. Also, I’m taking the day off today so is there any possible way the matter you have to discuss could wait until tomorrow? Thanks!

A couple seconds after you hit send, the little label beneath the message changed from “delivered” to “read.” Then radio silence. Anxiety bubbles up in the pit of your stomach? What does read mean? Did he agree with you? Is he still coming? Too drained to deal with the emotional turmoil this was causing you, you rolled over and pulled your covers up over your head. This was a problem for future you.

Drifting off, you were awakened a short time later by your phone chiming once, then again a few minutes later, and the sound of your doorbell ringing. Surely it wasn’t…Half-closing your eyes to shield against the harsh glow of your phone, you unlock it.

(2) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto

Todoroki Shouto: I’m here. Open your door.

I didn’t want to tell you over text, but you aren’t responding. Bakugou says I have romantic feelings for you and I think he is correct. He also said you’ve been “a mooney-eyed moron” for me since we were in high school. If that is true and you do feel the same way, please let me in. I would like to see you and care for you while you are on your cycle.

Three dots appear, signaling that he’s typing. A couple seconds later, your phone chimes again, not even giving you a moment to process the previous messages.

Todoroki Shouto: Our former classmates also unanimously agreed that I am, in fact, popular with the ladies. I’ll forgive your comment if you let me in. The old lady who lives next door to you is giving me suspicious looks. 

You blink. Rub your eyes. Squint closer at your screen. The words didn’t change, and neither did their meaning. And Todoroki wasn’t the type of person to joke around like this. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and your pulse thundered in your ears as you realized there was only one thing left to do.

You had to get out of bed and let him into your apartment.

taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @sunaraii @hotvinimon

as always, please please please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from any of my taglists. tysm for reading, and i hope you enjoyed it!!

[rustedhearts]

blue christmas (boxer!steve harrington x fem!librarian reader)

summary: it's christmas time, and your boyfriend's traveling the country kicking ass. will he make it home in time—or will you be spending christmas alone?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1989) ✶ christmas carols ✶ main masterlist

tags: christmas!; descriptors for libby's friends but of course, not libby; kinda hurt/comfort (she's just a sad girl!); fluff; alcohol consumption; nothing major.

"i'll have a blue christmas without you. i'll be so blue just thinking about you. decorations of red on a green christmas tree, won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me."

— blue christmas, elvis presley

hawkins, indiana. december 1989.

“I can’t believe you won’t be here.”

The ribboned rubber of the telephone cord curled around your finger. You pouted at the flowered fabric of your bedspread, imagining Steve in a little Christmas sweater he’d never wear—but he’d be here. Cozy, warm, big and bulky under layers of cable-knit.

Christmas was in three days, and your boyfriend wouldn’t even be here.

“I know, angel,” Steve sighed through the phone. “‘m sorry. I wish I could."

And he does. It's your first holiday season together—your first winter full of fluffy white snow, and cold afternoons that make you want to curl up and sleep the days away. It was the season of love and affection; the time of the year meant for nuzzling noses and burying in coats for warmth.

You imagined so many times what the holiday season would look like if Steve were here to stroll through the town square holding your mittened hand. He'd come up for weekends—twice since the beginning of November—but it was never long enough. He'd get in Friday night, and have to leave Sunday morning. You never got to sleep in and feign domestic bliss, tangled in his sheets in the white, early light.

Too many times, Steve kissed your head in a half sleep and whispered his goodbye; a note on his pillow where his head was supposed to be.

Angel,

I'll miss you more than ever.

—Steve

"Me too," you mumbled, pout evident in the huff and puff of your quiet words. You let your chin fall to your arm propped on the edge of your bed, glaring ahead at your wallpaper.

The house fogged with warmth from a home-cooked meal roasting in the oven downstairs. Your mother had a jazzy Christmas tune pipping from the stereo on the counter. Your father—last you checked forty minutes ago—was reading the paper in his armchair beneath the yellow lamplight of the living room. Your brother was somewhere up the street getting into trouble with his friends, driven to boredom without school to keep them busy. You had a Christmas party to attend tomorrow night, and you still hadn't picked an outfit, or wrapped your Secret Santa gift.

"Baby," Steve sighed. "C'mon, don't...don't make me feel bad."

You rolled onto your back. "I'm not, I'm not...I'm sorry."

Commotion clattered behind Steve—hotel doors opening and closing, voices muttering. The bed springs squeaked with his shifting. Your chest ached and squeezed with what you already knew was coming.

"I gotta go, angel...I'll call you later, alright? Be good f' me?"

You pinched your eyes shut, willing the stinging to stop. You nodded without words a moment, and then heard the buzz of his waiting. "Okay...love you."

"Love you too, baby. Bye."

"Blue Christmas" spun on Lisa's turn table in the sunken den of her parent's basement living room. Still stuck in 1975 and decorated by her mother for the sole purpose of hosting cocktail parties, it was the perfect place for Lisa to hold her first "adult" holiday party: pink shag carpet, silver-tinseled Christmas tree, pastel wrapping and perfect bows, and geometric decor of diamonds and stars on the wood-paneled wall.

Lisa, Holly, Tammy (and even yourself) dressed in their best getups, hair and makeup perfected for Polaroids. They already snapped enough to cover the end table, and in every single one, your smile never met your eyes. You were too concerned with ruining Lisa's highly-anticipated party to be a drag, but the lack of Steve really weighed on you.

"Oh, honey," Holly sighed, padding her way over to you. She flopped onto the sofa beside you, arm wrapped around your shoulders. "You miss him real bad, huh?"

You sighed, head falling onto her arm. "That obvious?"

She sipped her (fourth) cocktail—something red and fruity and rimmed with crushed candy cane. "You haven't spoken a word in thirty minutes. It was just a hunch."

"I thought he'd at least...try to be here. I mean, he doesn't have a fight until next week. He could fly back and forth—but maybe that's...not right of me to ask that."

Holly hummed, setting her coupe glass on the Polaroid table. She turned to you, blonde hair neatly curled and pinned on either side, and pursed her glossy mouth.

"It's not too much to ask, hun. If he wanted to be here, he'd be here. He said he loves you, then he wouldn't miss your first Christmas together."

You peered at her, wondering if this were true. From their place near the tree, arranging gifts and flicking through Elvis albums, Lisa and Tammy looked up.

"Oh, that's not true!" Tammy squawked. "He's just busy. They're talkin' about him all the way in New York now."

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, stomach twisting. "They are?"

If Steve were truly gaining popularity across the east coast, you had more than just a missed Christmas to worry about. You sensed its arrival—his fame and popularity. Steve was up and coming, and he had an aggression not many fighters had these days. He had the drive, the passion, the determination. You saw it all in his eyes. You knew he wouldn't stop until he was the best, and he wasn't afraid to make the sacrifices necessary to be just that.

And maybe it was selfish of you to want him all to yourself—but you've never felt this way about anyone before. Steve was everything.

"Oh, Libby," Lisa cooed, hurriedly rushing your way. Tammy followed, and soon they were all surrounding you, perched on the sofa and the coffee table.

"It'll be okay! He loves you, it's so obvious. You just have to realize...maybe his career will always come first. You just have to find a way to be okay with that," Lisa offered meekly.

You nodded, but only because your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. The girls glanced at each other momentarily, and then Holly stood in a flash of sparkly, bubblegum pink and glitter.

"Well, to hell with Steve! Let's get drunk and open presents."

The glasses drained themselves, really. The records spun and scratched, the pretty, gilded wrapping paper shred to pieces, and the girls in the den soon became nothing but giggling messes. When you got bored of the music, you turned to the television, turning the knob until you reached a fuzzy, pixelated picture of It's A Wonderful Life, though the static-y voices fell on deaf ears.

"Oh, it's darling, Libby, really," Holly gushed, holding up the pink satin slip you gifted her for Christmas.

Holly was easiest to shop for—she'd be pleased with anything pink, soft, and fancy.

"I'm glad you—hic!—like it. And I love my book, Tammy. It's so beautiful."

The book, a cloth-bound classic, was wine-colored and gorgeous. It was so pretty you didn't even want to put it on the shelf. It would sit on your dresser for a little while to look at.

Lisa gave Tammy a pair of red Mary Janes, and Holly gave Lisa a new set of hot rollers. The remains of the wrapping paper sat in bits and pieces around you on the carpet, and you had to shoo away Lisa's cocker spaniel, Lady, before she ate it all. She trudged into your lap, shedding soft hair over your dress as you stroked her long, floppy ears, watching the pink-flushed faces of your friends through the glowing white light of the Christmas tree.

Despite Steve's absence, you were happy. You had your friends.

The giggles faded when the doorbell rang through the house. Lisa waved it off, peering up the steps of the den toward the first floor. "Probably just a caroler. Ignore it."

But the doorbell rang again. Lisa huffed, and Tammy and Holly giggled as she fumbled up the steps. In her absence, they turned to you, all gushing over each other's presents and asking after more cocktails. They kissed at Lady in your lap and tossed popcorn at her waiting mouth, and you fell in line with the amusement until Lisa's socked feet came flapping into the room.

"Libby, Steve's here."

You weren't sure you heard her right. The giggles dwindled again, and your hand stilled over Lady's head in a half-stroke. Your heart was in your mouth, pulsing dumbly.

"W-what?"

Lisa, out of breath and wide-eyed, had her hands on her hips with an ecstatic smile. "He's here. Steve, he's here—he's waiting outside."

"Well, for God's sake, Lisa, why didn't you invite him in?" Tammy chimed in.

Lisa shot her a glare. "He said he'd wait outside for her! Probably heard your cackling and got too scared to come in."

Holly soothed your friend's sting with a half-hug around Tammy's shoulders, but you were still numb. You carefully scooped Lady up and placed her on the floor, away from the wrapping paper. You pushed to your feet, smoothing down the skirt of your dress. You put your book on the sofa, and turned to your friends still on the floor.

"Do I...do I look alright?"

"Gorgeous, babe," Holly beamed. "Let me just..."

She stood, reaching up to fix your hair. She fluffed it, poofed it, found your purse on a hook near the door and spritzed your perfume at the crown of your head, and under your ears. She handed you your lipgloss and a mirror, and when you were content with the pink-eyed doeness of your appearance, you stepped toward the stairs.

"Go, go!" Lisa ushered you, giving you a nudge.

You steadied yourself on the wall, steps careful and cautious. Those drinks made you a little woozy, but nothing felt as fuzzy as the thought of Steve waiting for you in the snow. He came all the way here, for you. Your cheeks warmed at the very thought. Your stomach crawled its way up to your throat.

You made your way through the house, taking one last glance in the nearest mirror, before pulling open the door.

A cold rush immediately burst into the house, but any thought of shivering fled your mind at the sight of Steve looming before your eyes. Brown leather coat, black sweater, Levi jeans tight at the hips and loose at the calves. He had his hands cupped around his mouth, blowing hot, white air into his palms—but at the sound of your steps, at the scent of you, he stopped.

All you could do, for just a moment, was stare. Three long weeks since you last saw him—those perfect, round hazel eyes, those high, rosy cheeks. The tip of his nose was wind-nipped pink, the tops of his ears blown red. He smelled like vetiver and leather cologne, and he looked beautiful.

"Oh, Steve."

You crashed into his chest, arms wound tight around his stomach. He enveloped you in his own, holding you as close as he could; and the warmth of him immediately melded with yours. You buried your nose into his chest and hummed, eyes pinched shut just to hold onto this. This moment, this scene, this feeling of him so close after so long apart. You didn't want to let go.

"Merry Christmas, angel," he whispered, and then his mouth sat atop your head, pressing it into a kiss.

When the cold got unbearable, you pulled Steve inside. Fingers intertwined and cheeks sore with grinning, you skipped your way back down to the den where your friends feigned innocence despite their heaving breaths.

"Well look who's here," Holly cooed, watching you tug Steve down the steps.

You giggled, tipping into his side, one foot coming to kick up giddily. You felt like a schoolgirl with her very first crush. That's how love should always be, right?

"Steve, you know everyone. This is Lisa, Holly, and Tammy. Girls, this is Steve."

Your friends waggled their fingers in bashful little waves, and Steve lifted a wide palm in hello. You could smell the Marlboros on his coat, see the outline of a new pack in the front of his pocket. His hands were starting to warm up against your own.

"And this is Lady," you cooed, watching the cocker spaniel sniff at Steve's boots.

You dipped down and scooped her up, bringing her up against your chest to wave a tiny paw at Steve. He cracked a sideways smile, reaching out to scratch at her chin. You let her scamper back over toward the girls by the tree, and turned to Steve with your fingers looped together behind your back.

You could barely contain the giddy glee flooding through your body. Steve noticed. He nicked you under the chin with a gentle knuckle, and another small kiss placed on your sticky mouth.

"You girls been drinkin'?" he gruffed, thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

You shrugged. "A little. It's Christmas, Steve."

He hummed, eyeing the dazzled, feminine setup of the room. A mess of pretty paper, tinsel knocked astray, empty coupe glasses and picked-at pigs-in-a-blanket and bowls of snacks, a dog sniffing around for scraps and attention—harmless, he decided. Maybe even sweet.

As if waiting for his approval, and recognizing the submission, Steve turned back to you with a small smile. "Okay."

You took him by the hand again, tugging him toward the tree. "Come on."

But Steve paused, tugging you with just the resistance of his solid stance, snapping back like a rubber-band.

"Wait, honey..." You turned to him, and he reached into the lining of his coat. "Got somethin' for you."

He pulled out a slim, black velvet box. You pressed your lips into a smile and huddled close.

"But, Steve...yours is at home—"

"—shh. Just open it."

You were acutely aware of your friends craning to see over your shoulder from their place on the floor, petting mindlessly at Lady and munching at shortbread. But in this moment, it was just you and Steve. And he watched you intently once he handed over the box, gnawing at his own lip. God, he wanted a smoke. He just wanted you to love it.

You pushed the box open, hinges snapping back to reveal a navy blue satin lining, and a gorgeous golden locket strung inside. An "S" sat etched on the center of an intricately engraved heart, adorned with swirling roses on a delicate chain.

"Oh, Steve." It was all you seemed to be able to say today.

"D' you like it?" he asked, voice edged with worry.

You fingered at the locket, feeling the cool metal. "I love it, Steve. It's gorgeous."

He exhaled. "Good. Lemme put it on."

With fingers too big for such delicate things, he plucked the necklace from its box and pulled the clasp open. You spun around, moving your hair out of the way for his hands. With your back to him, you could properly convey your excitement to your friends, who mirrored your beaming grin with equal delight.

The locket rested perfectly in the center of your chest, and once clasped, you felt it against your skin with your palm.

"Thank you, Steve. I love it so much."

Steve, hands braced on your shoulders, tipped his head and kissed your cheek. "Anything, angel. It's all yours."

Lisa snapped the head of a gingerbread-man cookie off with her teeth, and Holly cooed. Tammy busied herself with the dog.

But you had a band of butterflies in your stomach and a drum line in your chest, and you turned to look up at Steve with nothing but adoration.

"Look inside." He nudged his nose toward the locket again.

Wedging a nail between the hinges, you popped the heart open. A crudely-cut picture of yourself and Steve—so minuscule it would be difficult to discern from a blob if you hadn't recognized the very moment captured in time—sat in a black and white fashion in the heart.

Another smile at Steve, loving and sweet. "Who knew you were so romantic, Steve Harrington?"

He tucked his bruised fists into his coat pockets and shrugged. "I try."

Steve had hours before he had to leave and a plane ticket burning a hole in his back pocket—but it was Christmas, and he'd do anything, even blow off his coach and a team full of people, if it meant seeing your pretty face.

"Merry Christmas, angel."

The softest of kisses shared between warm mouths. Strawberry-cigarette smooches were what life was all about.

"Merry Christmas, Steve."

[nynaevedesign]

Rain Bedroom Step into a serene bedroom, where a graceful bedframe with a curved headboard takes center stage, radiating sophistication and comfort. Flanking the bed, sleek nightstands with minimalist design elements offer functionality and a touch of understated elegance. Above, a sculptural pendant light hangs like a work of art, casting a warm and inviting glow that sets the perfect mood. Opposite the bed, a contemporary dresser with clean lines and subtle details provides ample storage while maintaining a modern aesthetic. Nearby, two geometric ottomans add a pop of visual interest and double as a stylish seating option. To complete the look, the walls are adorned with fluted wall decor, adding texture and depth to the room while enhancing its overall sense of refinement. Set includes Bedframe | Bedding | Bed Cover | Throw Blanket | Throw Pillows | Nightstand | Dresser x2 | Dresser x3 | Ottoman V1 | Ottoman V2 | Pendant Light | Mirror | Fluted Wall Decor Patreon Early Access Public Release: 10/31/2023

[sheltershock]

Currently thinking about the symbolism of orange with Sasha’s character. How it’s a metaphor present both in Sasha’s mind and lab/office of having a very cold exterior(black/white or greys and blues) and having the smallest pop of color in the interior specifically with the color orange.

The first obvious appearance of this is in his level. When he pops out of the trapdoor/hatch in his mind there’s orange light streaming out from wherever that portal leads to deer within. This is then mirrored in the sequel seen in his office, which has the same cube design with geometric framing. The general feel of the lab is cold and almost inhuman in a way. There’s no windows and all the light is artificial. But the small corner of his office is brightly lit and warm on the inside. And the couch and pillows on top are orange along with bits of the rug on the floor.

It’s also in his outfit. The dark pants, shoes, gloves, glasses and coat cover up the sweater he’s wearing that striped with tans and browns, earthy colors and a less saturated orange. Three places, that’s a pattern.

Then there’s the detail of where the orange is, in comfortable things. It’s the surrounding light for wherever Sasha’s hanging out when chaos is absolutely rocking his entire world. It’s in his turtleneck sweater, something you usually wear to combat cold. It’s in the couch cushions and pillows, something you usually interact with to talk a break or rest in.

It’s such an obvious metaphor. Sasha is such an intimidating figure initially, cold and detached from the world and others. But then you actually spend a little time with him and he’s actually a dork who cares a lot about the people he’s close with. The most glaring time is when he calls Lili ‘darling’ that one time in RoR, completely unprompted. For most the jet ride he’s barely acknowledging that she’s crying her eyes out and mostly has the air of “don’t make me turn this car around.” But then just out of nowhere when he gets good news about Truman’s location he just pulls out the “I think we might know where he is, darling” while clearly putting on the softest tone he can most definitely but imitating Milla. And it just shows that he’s been aware the entire time and just saying something now while trying so hard to be comforting is so much. Fantastic characterization.

I love all the small details in this series, even with something like color and where it appears and how that links up with the character themselves. Just wow. I love the writing here.

[literateowl]

R 😭 I did it!! I am an ABSENTEE voter so I get no sticker. Thus I took a picture of the ballot drop off sign for you.

My request, if you choose to accept it, is: Paul, TK & Carlos go to Ikea to shop for a housewarming gift for Marjan 🎁

Paul & Carlos are a little overwhelmed, but TK knows EXACTLY what to get her…

Hiii Lemon thank you for voting! I hope you love the ficlet and it brings you joy 💜

“I can’t believe you’ve both only been here once before,” TK says and pokes Carlos’s side as they walk into the store. “And you were a kid.”

“Yep, just when my sisters first moved out.”

“I only needed a lot of stuff when I moved down here. Everything else I can get at Target,” Paul says. “Which would be perfectly fine to shop at now by the way.”

“Ikea is an experience though.” TK gestures with open hands as the sliding door parts for him. “Do we want food now or after?”

“After. And we only need like two things for Marj.”

“So we’ll find her the best things,”

Paul gets a cart and they spread out throughout the marketplace. Carlos sticks pretty close to TK because this store seems a little crazy.

Paul waves them over eventually and points at some food storage jars with a geometric looking design. “Do you think she’d like these?”

“She probably would, there’s gotta be something more fun around here though.”

“Where? This place is a maze.”

“Let’s skip the rest of the kitchen stuff,” TK suggests.

“This place is too much when you don’t know what you want,” Paul complains. Carlos nods in agreement.

Carlos and Paul look through the packages of throw pillow covers. “What about this floral one?”

Paul shakes his head and goes back to looking while Carlos gives up. They’ll never find a house warming gift for Marjan’s new place at this rate.

Carlos spins around the store scanning for his husband. “Do you see TK? Did we lose him?”

“There’s only one way through the place,” Paul reminds him. “We’ll catch up eventually.”

Carlos sighs, of course TK would insist they come to Ikea, which Carlos has basically never been to before and finds very overwhelming, and then get lost almost immediately.

“I don’t know, man. All of the stuff here is good but nothing screams ‘Marjan’ yet, you know?” Paul complains.

“Also this place is huge,” Carlos agrees.

They don’t catch up to TK until they’re almost at the exit, he and the now full shopping cart are nearly concealed by the palm leaves and thick ferns in the plant aisles.

TK grins at them. “I found the perfect things. Look at these plant pots, so she can grow more herbs or something.” He gestures to the four light green and pink pots that he’s picked out.

“I also found some drawer dividers for us and a pomegranate candle, babe.”

“And stuffed animals?” Carlos asks.

“The octopus is for Jonah to go with the shark we sent him for his birthday last month. And the little bee is for Charlie. Isn’t it adorable?”

“Yeah, good job, man. Are we done here?” Paul asks anxiously.

“Sure, let’s check out and then go up to the restaurant. You can’t come to Ikea and not get Swedish meatballs or something with lingonberries.”

Carlos frowns. “What the heck is a lingonberry?

[cherrygirlystuff]

Neon Dreams: How to Decorate Your Space with Indie Sleaze Aesthetics 🌙

Hey babe! Ready to transform your space into the ultimate indie sleaze sanctuary? 🖤✨ We’re talking neon lights, vintage posters, and all the grungy vibes that make you feel like you’ve stepped right into a 2000s house party or an underground gig. Whether you’re sprucing up your room or going all out on your entire apartment, I’ve got the tips you need to nail that effortlessly cool, lived-in look that screams indie sleaze. Let’s dive in and get your space looking as iconic as you are! 🎸

1. Neon Lights: The Glow-Up Your Space Needs

First things first, neon lights are an absolute must. They’re the ultimate statement piece that instantly gives your room that edgy, retro vibe. Think neon pinks, electric blues, and bright purples that make your space feel like a moody club or a cool dive bar.

How to Use Them: String them up along your walls, frame your bed, or create a focal point above your desk. For a more dramatic effect, mix and match colors to create a neon oasis that feels both chaotic and cozy.

Pro Tip: If you want to keep things extra nostalgic, opt for neon signs with phrases or symbols that capture the essence of indie sleaze—like a heart, lightning bolt, or a cheeky “open late” sign.

2. Vintage Posters: A Time Machine for Your Walls

Nothing says indie sleaze like a wall covered in vintage band posters and old-school art prints. These are the perfect way to pay homage to the era and showcase your music taste.

How to Style Them: Go for a collage look by mixing different sizes, colors, and textures. Layer posters of your favorite 2000s bands, grungy movie posters, and abstract art prints to create a visually chaotic but totally intentional wall display.

Where to Find Them: Hit up thrift stores, online vintage shops, or even print out high-res images and DIY your own posters. The more eclectic, the better!

3. Grungy Décor: Embrace the Messy, Lived-In Look

Indie sleaze is all about that perfectly imperfect vibe, so don’t be afraid to let your space feel a little messy and lived-in. Think worn-out furniture, scattered records, and cozy textiles that feel like they’ve been collected over time.

Furniture: Look for distressed leather chairs, velvet couches, and vintage coffee tables. Mix and match different styles and eras to create a space that feels authentically yours.

Accessories: Throw in some mismatched pillows, cozy blankets, and a record player with your favorite vinyls stacked nearby. The goal is to make your space feel like a creative haven where anything goes.

4. DIY Elements: Add Your Personal Touch

One of the coolest things about indie sleaze is how DIY it feels. Get crafty and add some personal touches to your space with DIY décor that reflects your style.

Ideas: Try painting an old mirror with neon accents, creating your own art with spray paint and stencils, or even making a wall hanging from thrifted fabrics. The possibilities are endless, and it’s all about making your space feel like an extension of your personality.

Pro Tip: Use washi tape to create geometric designs on your walls, or to frame your posters for an extra pop of color. It’s easy, affordable, and totally customizable!

5. Lighting: Set the Mood with Layers

Lighting is everything when it comes to capturing that indie sleaze vibe. Beyond neon lights, you’ll want to layer different types of lighting to create a moody, intimate atmosphere.

Ideas: String lights, lava lamps, and old-school lampshades are perfect for adding that grungy glow to your space. Drape string lights around your bed or hang them above your window for that dreamy, low-lit effect.

Pro Tip: Mix warm and cool tones to create depth and make your space feel cozy yet edgy. The key is to keep things a little dim and mysterious, like the after-hours vibe of a dive bar.

6. Textures & Layers: Cozy Meets Cool

To truly nail the indie sleaze aesthetic, it’s all about layering different textures and materials. Think leather, velvet, faux fur, and distressed wood—all working together to create a space that’s as cozy as it is cool.

How to Style: Layer a faux fur throw over a velvet chair, or toss some leather pillows on a worn-out sofa. Add a shag rug or a vintage Persian carpet to bring everything together. The goal is to create a space that’s inviting but also has that rock-and-roll edge.

Pro Tip: Don’t be afraid to mix and match patterns and textures. Indie sleaze is all about breaking the rules, so go wild with your décor choices!

7. Finishing Touches: The Devil’s in the Details

Finally, it’s all about those little details that bring the whole look together. Think quirky knick-knacks, old cameras, stacks of vinyl records, and ashtrays full of faux cigarette butts for that authentic grunge feel (without the smell, of course).

Ideas: Add some polaroid pictures on the wall, scatter some vintage magazines on the coffee table, or even display your favorite old sneakers as part of the décor. It’s all about making the space feel lived-in and loved.

Pro Tip: Incorporate elements that reflect your hobbies and passions—like a guitar in the corner, a stack of your favorite books, or a shelf full of vinyl records. Make your space a true reflection of who you are.

Final Vibes, Babe: Your Indie Sleaze Haven Awaits

And there you have it, your ultimate guide to transforming your space into an indie sleaze paradise! 🌙 Whether you’re going all out or just adding a few key pieces, the goal is to create a space that feels authentic, cool, and full of personality. So go ahead, get creative, and let your inner indie sleaze queen shine through your décor.

What’s the first thing you’re going to add to your space? Let me know in the comments, and don’t forget to share pics of your indie sleaze-inspired rooms! Happy decorating, babe! ✨

[the-fiction-witch]

Dec 25 Moscow Snow

Media the Queen's Gambit

Character Benny Watts

Couple Benny Watts X Reader

Rating smut + adorably sad

25th of December 2022

Smut love bites/ fondling/ stripping/ fingering/ spanking/ nipple play/ eating out/ 'babydoll' & 'good girl'/ full sex/ raw/ biting/ hair pulling/ squirting/

I slowly woke, being faced with the room that made me smile widely. With the light cream wallpaper and its various cubic line works across it, the wooden floor well polished and cared for, the furniture all matching the bedsheet of geometric shapes of black white and red. The little red lamp beside the bed turned off of course with the room in a low darkness as light was coming from around the curtains but not enough to worry about. I laid between the soft cotton covers, all of it tucked around my body tightly to prevent the harsh Moscow cold from reaching my warm skin. I had done my best to stay all wrapped up in my sleepy state as I'd likely freeze if I even put so much as a toe outside the covers luckily I did have my own little hot water bottle to keep me warm. 

Technically I wasn't supposed to be here. I had my own room just two down the hall given the church who funded the tickets and hotel views but that was of course ignored. So I shared the biggest room Nd the cosy wa bed with his body to keep me company, His arm lazily draped around my waist as usual holding my stomach, his chest against my back, his head nuzzled snuggly into the back of my neck, the heat coming off him keeping me snug and warm. And it was then as I woke up a little more I noticed him more. He wasn't just nuzzled into the back of my neck, he was softly and tenderly kissing my neck and shoulder, his hand was moving slowly from my stomach across my silk nightie to grasp my breast firmly. I blushed hard as his hand began to fondle me between his more passionate kisses often in these moments moving his hips to rub against my own giving him some friction on to his already erect manhood. I laid happily tucked up with the warm covers listening to the clock tick on the bedside table and his sharp lustful breaths between kisses, the slight sound of shifting in the sheets. Feeling his sweet kisses with his hair gently tickling me, his warm body against me in all places and his soft gropes exciting me more and more. Until I couldn't help but giggle

"Benny" 

"Ummm" he groans getting far more passionate with his kisses leaving a trail of wet open mouth kisses from my jaw to my shoulder his other hand now coming around me and taking a grip of my other breast 

"Good morning"

"Humm" he groans moving his hands under my nightie to fondle my breasts directly with his warm hands 

"Benny we shouldn't -" I began

"Shh shh shhh" he muttered moving his hand away from my breast stroking down my silk nightie, stroking up my bare thigh before slipping below my nightie and between my legs to stroke my folds 

"Benny" I gasped gripping the pillow 

"Ummm so beautiful" he groans finding my clit and stroking it mercilessly in a clockwise circle

"Benny we shouldn't, the tournament" I reminded him 

"My ability to dismantle the Russian chess games will not be affected by if I have or have not fucked you the morning before." He whispered "however. It will make me feel better" he smirked moving his hand to let two fingers slip inside me 

"Uhhh" I gasped trying to be quiet as Weiss was sleeping in the hotel room next door our beds sharing a wall between them 

"We're heading home after the tournament anyway, it's our last night in our cosy Moscow hotel. If I don't now I'd have missed an opportunity"

"I just don't want to break your focus, that's time you could be using to practice"

"It won't break my focus babydoll."

"I could always just do something for you if your horny" I smiled

"Umm, you're so sweet. But save that for after the tournament. So you get to experience the first time you'll have a grandmaster's cock in your mouth" he smirked "but you can do something for me?"

"Yes benny?"

"Let me go raw." He growled in my ear

"What?" I blushed turning bright red

"When will we ever get another chance like this baby doll? Come on, let me feel you… all of you."

"Alright" I smiled

"Good girl" he growled moving his hand away immediately pushing me into the mattress on my back to be faced with his smirking face 

"Hi"

"Hi." He growled kissing down my neck as he tugged the spaghetti straps of my nightie down tugging the whole thing off my body leaving me naked my nipples hard in the cold of the room and of course I was wet from his earlier playing "loud for me babydoll" he demanded

"But benny-"

"I don't care. I want all of Moscow to know who fucks your pretty cunt" he smirked 

"What about Weiss? He's just next door?" I remind him

"Humm. He's been asking me to let him hear you scream for months babydoll. So give him a show but make sure to remind him who you belong too" he smirked tugging his boxers down and wrapping my legs around his hips, it didn't take long for him to slip hilt deep Inside of me making me gasp holding the sheets tightly, he began slowly moving from tip to hilt grinding his hips slowly but efficiently quickly leaving me a mess of moans each time he drove deeper often he nibbled at my neck to allow the sounds I made no matter how small not be missed by his ears, gradually he got faster and more merciless which caused my moans and groans to increase, his hand moving to rub on my clit in time with his thrusts 

"Ughhh-benny please!" I gasped as my eyes rolled back a little my head rolling against the pillow in pleasure 

"Not till you cum babydoll" he smirked biting on my neck to leave a love bite getting even faster causing me to scream with each of his thrusts "fuck- babydoll not so tight. You'll make me cum" 

"I can't help it" I whined 

"Awww what my little baby too close to control herself?" He smirked "I can work with that" he smirked pulling out and grabbing my hips pulling me down the bed leaving my hair against the pillows my back further down the bed and my hips off the mattress completely he kept my hips in the air and my ankles in his hands pushing them as far apart as physically possible, and smirking with that evil sky grin before burying his head between my legs nibbling at my inner thigh, kissing my clit, running his tongue across every inch of me even pushing his tongue inside me at moment's which left me a screaming mess often uncontrollably kicking my legs from the pleasure

"Ahhhhh benny please!" I squealed as he mercilessly continued enjoying my pleads but still ignoring them as he worked I knew how close I was so I began desperately tugging on his hair which made him pull back

"Awww you're so cute when you're desperate" he smirked throwing me completely against the mattress again looming over me "umm look at you. Bright red. Hard nipples. Dripping cunt. This" he smirked, stroking his hand down my body "is why I love edging you babydoll." He smirked "you look so beautiful when your body is craving me" he growled "say it. And I'll let you cum"

"I need you benny" I cooed as breathy as I could pulling him into an intense kiss which he happily worked into before pulling back

"Good girl. Down. Now." He demanded so I did as he asked and went down on my knees holding the wooden headboard in my hands he smirked and stroked my waist from my stomach around my side to the small of my back "umm perfect babydoll' he whispered in my ear before slipping back inside me making me moan loudly given how close I was and that he always felt so much bigger when on my knees he didn't waste time being gentle or slow going back to his merciless pase immediately holding my hips hard as he moved often causing the bed to bang and creek his hand moved to cup my breast often twisting my nipple which only increased my moans of pleasure

"Come on a babydoll" he growled getting even faster slapping my ass hard 

"Ahhh!"

"Louder" he cooed playfully firmly taking each breast in his hand to grope me hard 

"Uhhhh benny!" 

"That's better" he smirked moving a hand down to rub on my clit making me scream even louder 

"Ahhhhh benny please im-"

"Close?" He smirked and I nodded "well.. can I cum inside you?"

I blushed hard but nodded which only made his smirk grow

"Then my babydoll can cum" he smirked rubbing even faster on my clit as he thrusted 

"Uuuuuuuuuuughh uhhhh benny!" 

"Louder!" He demanded slapping my ass hard and at that moment I hit my wall making me squeal loudly slightly squirting a little as my orgasm rushed through me leaving me a shaking moaning mess, which only fueled him letting me ride it out still playing with my clit before he moved back to fondle my breasts again still at his merciless pace he got louder too more throaty 

"Uhhh fuck. Babydoll! Y/n..y/n!" He growled before biting my shoulder as his hips jerked in a few odd angles and ways finishing deep inside me before he gasped and collapsed his weight onto me. It took a couple of seconds of us both gasping before he pulled out and laid on the bed, I smiled and moved onto the floor grabbing my nightie to put away in my bag "humm. You made a mess" he smirked playfully glancing to the bed where I had slightly squirted

"Well that's what happens when someone decides to torcher me" I complained 

"Oh don't pout y/n. You love it as much as I do" he smirked 

"I'll go get your shower hot" 

"Thank you babydoll." He smiled leaning over to give me a kiss "not too hot" he reminds as I headed to the bathroom

"I know benny" I smiled shutting the door I went to the bathroom and started up the shower for him while I brushed my teeth and washed my face as usual, and he came through a few moments later slapping my ass as he went past me I rolled my eyes and headed back to the main room getting dressed for the day into my best dress and shoes given it was the last day of the Moscow invitational tournament a very important day for benny and of course our last day in Moscow so as I was dressing and doing my makeup I was also packing up the hotel room.

"Don't you look glamorous" he smirked coming out the bathroom post shower

"Well just trying to look nice for today" 

"You look beautiful babydoll" he Cooes getting dressed himself for the day going over his practices and notes from the last few days while I finished up until it was time. "Right. Let's get down there." He says fixing his hat and heading to the door 

"Benny-" I said grabbing his arm before he could go

"Yeah?"

"I… I just want to tell you, no matter what happens today. I'm still incredibly proud of you"

A smile cracked across his face a slight blush on his cheeks before he gave me a kiss 

"Thank you y/n. Really. And thank you for… coming all this way with me"

"Well I want to support you. And I didn't want to miss a chance to see Moscow. But no matter what happens I'm still proud of you and I still love you"

"I love you too" he smiled putting an arm around me "come on we'll get a coffee before we go" 

We headed down to the hotel having some breakfast which honestly was just some toast and coffee but I was awake enough anyway Weiss did come down and join us after a while but he wouldn't make eye contact with me which only made me blush more the boys went over there plan of attack for the day and who and how they where to go up again the remaining Russians. Once all done the boys where funneled into a car and myself into another one I watched the sweet city hurry by my window noticing the flutters of snow falling down, it was lovely to be here a dream indeed to see Moscow in the sweet midwinter I was very happy benny decided to let me tag along even if he didn't completely admit that he wanted me here I think he really wanted me here with him. Once we arrived at the grand building we were all ushered in quickly away from what press there was the first game going to start in just a few moments, I kept out of it letting the boys debate between each other not wanting to be a distraction for him until they called to begin opening up to the grand impressive room full of competitors, reporters and others to watch, I smiled and went to go to my small seat but he took my arm stopping me 

"Where's my lucky kiss?" 

I blushed and gave him a little kiss before I hurried to find my seat on a little wooden chair getting my notebook from my handbag. I watched game after game making notes in my little book of every play and it's time he was doing very well for a while. I actually got myself excited at the prospect that he could win. He could become world champion, a grandmaster. I did try not to get my hopes up just to be happy he got this far but I couldn't help being hopeful. They took a break before the final game between Benny and Bogov everyone filed into the bar for a drink weiss included having prior been humiliated by a Russian player. 

"You did so well" I smiled giving him a cuddle

"Well it's not over yet" benny laughed but giving me a cuddle anyway

"I'm still proud of you. Coming to Moscow and beating that many Russians is not an easy feat benny" 

"I know, but save your celebrations for when this is all over." He says "notes?"

"here" I smiled, handing over my notebook for him to read over checking for patterns and such until they called back for the final game. He handed me back my book as everyone filed in and I smiled giving his hand a squeeze for a moment seeing through his cocky confidence and seeing nerves. So I smiled sweetly to him giving his lips a little kiss "no matter what I'm still proud of you and I still love you"

"I love you too" he smiled giving my cheek a kiss before we headed back in, I gave him a smile and went back to my seat starting a new page of my notebook but I found myself not making notes, I was nervous biting my nails a little as I watched everything from Benny's hair adjustments, his ring fiddling, how he sat his feet under the chair, every breath and movement of his face but I did the same to borgov his every movement I watched for any type of sign of his play. As the game went on I worried more and more, still unable to pick up my pencil on my nerves at times holding my breath when waiting for a move until.

Fuck. He led him into a trap.

A trap I didn't see.

That benny didn't see.

And now it was far too late to escape. 

This trap had been building since his opening yet Benny hadn't picked up on it at all, in his confidence he walked into the bait waiting for him and now was trapped with very few options. I admit I'm not as smart as Weiss and Benny but I saw no possible way out of this, only delaying the inevitable fall.  

I wanted to cry, it broke my heart to watch as Benny realized this too. Making what few moves he could in the hope to escape this but the moves got faster and faster all of us knowing this to be the sign of impending victory even men around me began to chuckle at benny failure and subsequent humiliation. After another hour there was nowhere else to go. No other option. It looked like it killed him to give in but eventually he did.

And it was over. 

Borgov shook his hand and left his chair to go talk to press everyone, leaving of course to congratulate him and to hear his statement even Weiss left to see what he said. Benny didn't move, he just sat in his chair, hands together, his head slightly leaning on his hands, covering his mouth a little, hiding his expression. 

I got up from my seat leaving my bag and book behind my heels across the wooden floor. The only sound left now was the doors closing to the shuttering and speaking from the lobby. For a moment I loomed beside him unsure of what to say, or what to do. 

Benny was never the easiest person to read so I simply closed the gap between us and wrapped my arms around him pulling him into my warm body, my head on his softly stroking his jacket and the moment I did. His stern unreadable confident persona shattered.

Emotion ran across his face, of anger, sadness, frustration for a moment tears welled up in his eyes but he batted them away running a hand through his hair.

"Fuck" he muttered his voice slightly breaking as he said it 

I didn't know what to say do I just held him tighter 

"You saw it. Didn't you?"

"Not till it was too late" I answered "I couldn't have told you even if I did" 

"I know. Come on. Long way home" the says getting up and fixing his jacket

"Benny are you -'

"Y/n. I just wanna go home." 

"Okay" I nodded "if your sure" 

We headed out back to the car luckily the room had already been packed up so we just had to stop there for them to load the car up, when the driver left to help the porter load the car Benny left too.

In panic I followed him through the piles of snow to the little River that sat beside our hotel. He went to the bridge and stopped looking out down the frosty river where icy trees loomed. I didn't go too close , I wanted to give him some space. 

"I don't know what I'd do without you y/n." He says 

"Really?"

"Really. I'm sorry"

"For what?'

"Dragging you all this way with me"

"Oh benny. You didn't drag me here. I always wanted to see Moscow, and I'm happy that I got to be here with you even for a couple of days" I smiled hugging his arm

"You mean it?"

"Course I do"

"I'm sorry for being a dick"

"You're not being a dick. It's okay I know what you get like I just wish I could help"

"You do help. More than you know. I don't know what sort of state I'd be in if I did have you" he says cuddling me tightly into his chest giving head a kiss "I'm just mad. At myself. For fucking up"

"Benny, Borgov is the best player in the world for a reason. It's not like you made a stupid mistake -"

"But I did though. Russians work together they planned it all out to fuck me"

"And we worked together too and none of us saw it coming till it was too late. You plaid incredibly well. Bested everyone but him while on god knows how little sleep from traveling all the way to Moscow. I am incredibly proud of you benny"

"Even if I lost?"

"Even if you came second" I smiled tapping his nose and giving his cheek a kiss 

"Your too sweet to me"

"I am?"

"How'd I ever get such a sweetie?"

"A very long list of reasons"

"You're not disappointed at all?'

"Not at all. Still there's always next year"

"Yeah Always next year," he smiled, "but next year. I want things to be different"

"Of course they will. We'll be better prepared next time"

"Not just that. We were technically breaking the rules given I've had you in my hotel room this whole time"

"I guess so" I giggled

"I don't want us to have to lie, and break the rules again."

"Well it's the silly church groups problem because of their views we only did it because they were paying part of the cost for you" I laughed watching the river a little too 

"True. But I'd want it to be different next year"

"Well good luck trying to change their minds on anything" I giggled 

"I know a way." He smiled "y/n. I didn't just want you to come with me because I wanted you here for the tournament"

"Oh?"

"I wanted to bring you with me, because I thought It would be a nice snowy place to give you one of your Christmas presents"

"Benny I don't need any of my presents early I'm happy to wait till we get home"

"I know but. This one's special." He smiled "I had planned to give you it when I won but I still want to give you it here before we head home" 

"Alright, what is it?" I smiled

"Shut your eyes" he Cooes 

So I did as he asked closing my eyes as he held my hand softly I waited for a moment my body starting to really feel the cold now my feet deep in the snow little fluttering flakes often hitting my skin until he kissed my cold nose 

"Open" he whispered

I didn't know what to expect so I slowly opened my eyes to the most beautiful sight a girl could dream off.

He knelt in the almost knee high snow jacket around him tightly snow in his hair where he had left his hat in the car, his skin pale where he was clearly very very cold down there a little black box in his hand open to reveal a small but still beautiful silver ring with an impressive black square cut diamond with a line of small white diamonds around it it wasn't too big of too flashy but wouldn't have been cheap I was stunned in utter silence as snow fluttered around us 

"Will you marry me babydoll?"

"You - you mean it?"

"Of course I do. I want you with me for every tournament as my wife. I don't know what I'd do without you do I wanna make sure I'm never without you again."

"Ohh benny" I smiled unable to stop my tears 

"Whoa whoa whoa are you crying?" He asked very concerned moving to his feet

"Yes"

"So?'

"Yes I'll Marry you" I smiled between my tears 

"You will?"

"Of course I will!" I smiled, hugging him tightly. He happily hugged me, unable to stop our kisses till they called us from the car clearly sick of waiting, so I held out my hand and he blushed a little slowly putting the ring on my finger "perfect" I smiled "How'd you?"

"I guessed. Did I guess right?"

"It's perfect for me"

"Hu. I just got them to measure mine and said go a size or two down for you."

"Well it's perfect" I smiled "I love you so much"

"I love you too, come on before we miss your flight home" he encouraged so I nodded holding his hand tightly as we headed back to the car.

[liusaidh-writing]

A wee bit of writing if you’re so inclined. I love imagining Jamie and Claire in their small cabin in NC (Drums of Autumn). It’s one of my favorite times for them, despite the hardships. Anyway, felt like writing something and my WIPs weren’t cooperating, so I wrote this. It’s... likely nonsensical and fairly silly, but oh well. Enjoy? 

//

The house stood on the hill, overlooking the forest below. It winked at the winding river as the candles inside were blown out for the night. The door was shut tight against the cold wind, the hinges creaking as a gust came through. 

The floorboards were cold, the woolen socks that warmed the woman’s feet resting on the hearth where a roaring fire warmed the tiny room. It smelled of herbs and honey inside, and fresh rain falling on wood. The tiny gaps that let the cold air in gave off a faint whistling sound. 

The window, not yet a real window, was lined with deerskin, nailed tightly to the wooden frame. 

The bed sat in the corner, made of rough timber, covered in a hand-sewn patchwork quilt full of floral patterns and geometric shapes. One wide pillow rested at the head, shared by two slumbering forms, foreheads nearly touching in the dark.

Sparks flew up the stone chimney; the smoke with them, and the deep sighs of the cabin’s occupants were accompanied by shifting quilts and sluggish limbs. The night held more than darkness; it brought warmth and solace from an exhaustive day. It brought comfort and intimacy as the two in bed found one another, hands grazing, lips touching. 

Awake or asleep, only they knew. The house couldn’t tell. It held their secrets within its walls, held their promises, their hopes and their heartache; the things they’d whisper to one another in the flickering firelight. The man, with his red mane of hair sprawling across the pillow, caressed the woman’s cheek, murmuring in soft tones the house was all too familiar with.  

The rain began to fall, the house standing strong, protecting the pair in the bed from the moisture outside. Bodies moved closer to one another, the quilts were pulled higher up, the deerskin on the window above their heads remaining still. 

The house was loved, and it was love. It was worn in places where feet rested, where meals were taken, where a comforting touch was given when needed; a worn path from the door, to the hearth, and then to the bed told the story of the pair’s movements. 

Some day it might be larger; some day it may have another room, or other occupants. 

Tonight, though, the house was theirs, built with care with bare hands and sweating bodies. Winter was coming, and their home would protect them. 

//

[limitlessscion]

After a punishing twenty minutes of the hairdryer roaring in intervals ( serves Satoru right for coating his hair in popcorn grease earlier ) the esteemed guest emerges from the bathroom with a pout. Suguru leans against the bedroom doorframe with a hand on his waist, scrunching up the oversized shirt he'd been affored to spend the night in. That kimono was not coming to bed with them after all it had suffered.

Tan skin starkly juxtaposed with the light blue color, the hem rolled up just enough to expose the outline of a geometrical design over his thigh. The pants he'd been given to match were too long. At least the top fit, albeit loosely reaching down to his hip. Dark hair covered up the printed design. Clearly it looked ridiculous, his hand was at the ready to shut the door abruptly in case Satoru decided to do something stupid like pull up his phone camera.

" When did you go up a size? " A frustrated grumble.

( bonus jujutsu stroll for the thread lmao )

The bed was clearly newly made if messily so, the sheets draped untucked off the edges of the bedframe already scrunching up around where Satoru sat. Heavy blackout curtains were drawn against the glass that made up the entirety of one wall, and the lights were on for the first time in months in consideration for his guest.

Satoru sat at the head of the bed against the pile that was his blanket, pillow hugged to his chest and face buried in the fabric in the absence of someone who had so cruelly left his embrace to go take his eternity-long shower. If it'd gone on any longer, he wagered the building would have run out of hot water. When he felt Suguru's approaching presence, announcing that the final silence of the hairdryer wasn't a false alarm this time, Satoru peeked his eyes over the pillow.

This still didn't feel real.

His intense blues were unfocused as he took in the presence of Suguru in his own way, getting lost in each individual strand of luxurious hair he'd so aggressively toyed with with and the miniscule cracks upon those puckered lips he'd showered so much love to to and the microscopic valleys and peaks on skin of hands he'd embraced with his own. The tiny details of the world were so invisibly beautiful and Suguru stood as a testament of its perfection. Satoru's eyes focused to meet Suguru's at the sound of his voice, the world taking form in physical sight and he took in the details of this man that was the most important thing in the world to him once more.

Satoru's soft smile was still hidden by the top of the pillow but surely it showed in the crinkle of his eyes as he caught sight of that geometric cat he'd once drawn with young precise hands. It'd been an idea he was proud of at the time, even if his lack of artistic ability hindered the grander vision he'd hoped for.

Would it be self-absorbed to want to kiss that spot?

"Hmm? Size of what?"

He hadn't been paying attention, oops.

[mybeingthere]

More collages by Lance Letscher.

Lance Letscher’s collages are accumulations of tiny bits of paper taken from a myriad of sources. His compositions, driven by a piecemeal aesthetic with a meticulously obsessive sensitivity to color and content, evoke both the expansiveness of the cosmos and the complex detail of microcellular life forms. Crafted with a rich and vibrant vocabulary eliciting discovery by his viewers, Letscher’s works engage us with their poetry and intricacy.

Since the late 1980’s, Letscher has used the raw materials of wood, marble, old books and paper in such a manner as to remove them from their original context. As a youth, he cleaned out vacated rental properties owned by his grandparents and developed a curious habit of imagining other people’s lives from the traces left behind. Trained as a printmaker, Letscher’s early career focused on intensely conceptual sculptures of marble or wood: a doll-sized marble wheelchair, a dwarfed piano of wood, a rumpled child’s pillow in marble. In the mid-1990s Letscher shifted from his conceptual sculptures towards paper and collage but took away from his experience as a sculptor incredible patience and ability to focus on labor-intensive compositions. He began to collect antique paper, ledgers, old notebooks, diaries, letters, record covers, magazines and books from thrift stores, junk-shops, used-booksellers, and even dumpsters.

He meticulously organizes and stores these weathered materials, which he later surgically deconstructs and deploys, creating new narratives from shards of a memory. Letscher’s geometric and contemplative juxtapositions of color and pattern call to mind the classic craft of quilt making, which he has cited as an influence. Other frequent comparisons are to a wide and varied roster of other artists: Josef Albers, Piet Mondrian, James Castle, and Martín Ramírez, among others. Letscher’s most recent works explore notions of locomotion, technology, and the creative impulse at the heart of human nature. Letscher re-visits his sculptural roots as his collages leap into three dimensions, using vibrant colors and letters to cover the surfaces of such varied subjects as guns, motorcycles, rockets, tools and toy planes. A diligent and nearly constant worker, Letscher follows, with enthusiasm and gratitude, wherever his source materials lead him.

Lance Letscher attended the University of Texas where he received both his Bachelor of Fine Arts and his Master of Fine Arts. He later apprenticed for Amado Peña, an artist known for his Southwestern-style prints. He currently lives and works in Austin, Texas. His work is held in public and private collections around the country and has been reviewed in Art in America, The New York Observer, and Harper’s Magazine, among other publications. A full-length monograph of his work, Lance Letscher: Collage, was published in 2009.

https://www.tayloepiggottgallery.com/.../48.../biography/

[fabdivinedecor]

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#ArtisanCraftsmanship #HomeDecor #TimelessBeauty

[shmoo92]

Kokomi locks the hatch of the courrier pod and sends it off with a wave. Handhold of the parcel firmly in hand, she pushes out of the docking bay. She propels herself through the few corridors of her home, the deep space frontier outpost Time and Wind, until she reaches the copula she’s claimed as her main room.

A hundred trillion stars greet her as she enters. Once upon a time she’d hung valences—soft pinks, shimmering purples, dusty blues—around the perimeter of the window, but it took away from the starscape so instead, they cover the walls like geometric splotches of paint. She’d bolted her pillow topper and sleeping bag to the wall facing the window and there it remains but she ignores it for now, instead twisting herself around so she bonks gently against the window. There, surrounded by her beloved friends—a toy goldfish with a sparkly tail, four dolls (one in white with blonde hair, another in purple with dark hair, and the third in blue with red hair, and a fourth with green hair and a mask), a pink fox, a plush tengu, and a squishy box with cat ears—she boots up her comm and places a call.

The line connects almost immediately, as if the recipient had a tracking number for her newly delivered parcel.

“Good morning, Commander,” greets Kaeya.

“Good morning, Captain.” Kokomi peels the tape off the box. “I received a courrier with this morning’s post.”

“Oh? Anything of note?”

Kokomi pops thé lid—

A cheerful narwhal smiles up at her.

“You sent me your boyfriend’s merch?”

“I sent you *our* boyfriend’s limited edition merch.”

Kokomi pulls out the packing paper—

Kaeya croons, “Theres thé good smile.”

Kokomi huffs as she lifts her new friend from their cradle—Almost immediately, Ayakat throws herself at the box.

Kokomi looks her new friend over: fabric, of course, put together with patches in a variety of sizes. Mostly blues other than the side of their head: instead, a handful of overlapping reds and oranges. A goofy smile, button eyes, a soft, stubby horn, blanket stitching throughout, and—

She smiles, feeling like she herself is full of warm stuffing.

—under their fin, an off palette blue/grey patch and a violet.

“And there’s the /best smile.”

Kokomi hugs them close and presses her face to theirs. “They’re /perfect.”

Kaeya’s is a breathless sort of laugh. “I am /very glad to hear it.”

Kokomi drags her face up from the plush and tucks them under her chin. “Any word on when Her Majesty’s Vanguard’s shipping out?”

“A couple weeks, last I heard.” Kaeya’s grin takes on a mischievous glint. “They may even be charting a deep space course.”

Kokomi pouts. “Then why didn’t Tartaglia deliver his merch himself?”

“And leave me without such an easy gift idea? Perish the thought! Besides, maybe his personal item allowance had no room for his own merch.”

Kokomi smiles into the plush. “What stories are thé gossips milling?”

“Well, Tartaglia and the Traveller looked at each other for a whole half second yesterday so the net is on /fire about them.”

“It’s incredible that no one’s found us out.”

“It helps that one of us is a dashing starship captain in a different sector and the other is a beautiful princess on sabbatical at a deep space observatory.” Kaeya leans back. “We are, shall I say, not active in the same news reels. Or—“ His eye twinkles. “—any news reels, for some of us.”

“On the subject of news reels, what’ve you been up to? You seem like you’ve been busy.”

“I don’t look that tired, do I?”

Kokomi hums non committally.

“I’ll have you know I was in the middle of getting ready for bed when you called.”

“Don’t stop on my account!”

Kaeya chuckles but adjusts the comm and then leaves the frame. Kokomi can still see him in the washroom mirror though. “I haven’t been up to anything too exciting. A few dramatic fights against pirates in well-covered sectors—“

Kokomi watches his deft fingers loosen the laces of his corset. “But mostly just toodling around Mondstadt’s systems. Heh, I’ve also taken to parking /Pavo juuuuuust inside scanner range of some rando Fatui ships, maxing out the shields, running a power cycle on the weapons system, and just—“ He shimmies free, and as he puts it away, “—sitting there for a little bit.” He leans into the frame, eye glinting mischievously. “I hope I’m making them squirm as much as I imagine I am.”

“Has Tartaglia promised comeuppance yet?”

“Not that I’ve heard!” He pulls off his shirt. “Which means nothing. I expect he has quite the punishment for me whenever we meet next.”

Kokomi drinks in the lines of his back: from his toned shoulders to his trim waist, along the path of his spine. As she traces the angles of the scar that stretches from shoulder to hip, she asks, “Hands over head?”

Kaeya steps back into sight (blocking her view of the mirror), raising—he yanks his arms down to his sides. “Oh no you don’t!”

Kokomi huffs, then, “How is it that in all the galaxy I’m somehow dating /two people who can’t lift both arms straight up at the same time.”

As he unfastens his trousers, he replies (with a grin), “You sure know how to pick them, princess.” He tosses his trousers into the hamper. “At least I have a janky prosthetic. What’s Tartaglia’s excuse? A birth defect?” He scoffs—Kokomi giggles—and returns to his closet. “Besides, since when is anything about me straight?”

“What about you? How’s the sky doing?”

“You’re a starship captain, Kaeya.” She clicks her comm into place and hugs her narwhal close … while also attempting to get Ayakat into a leg hold so she’ll stop nipping at Kokomi’s socks.

“Sure,” Kaeya replies, likewise putting himself to bed. “But they’re not your stars.”

As he locks his comm into the dock by his pillow, he also /casually shows off that he too has a new narwhal plush. He knows exactly what he’s doing, smiling smugly at the delight in her eyes.

Kokomi squashes the impulse to /cut, to hide that vulnerability; she lets it stay and even /flourish, telling Kaeya all about the Carmen Dei binary star as he drifts to sleep.

(When Ayakat wiggles from her sleeping bag and takes off to freedom by leaping from Kokomi’s face, Kokomi manages to only squeak softly.)

Kaeya’s breathing slowly and softly by the time she’s run out of fun facts and figures (but only on the subject of Carmen and Dei).

She sets her comm to retroactively record the call and then just.

watches him sleep.

watches him breathe.

watches him be /alive.

just for a little bit.

[fashionbooksmilano]

Decorative Victorian Needlework

Elizabeth Bradley

Photographs by Tim Hill and styled by Zoe Hill

Ebury Press, London 1990, 168 pages, 26,6 x 29cm, ISBN 9780852238370

euro 35,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

Features 25 of Elizabeth Bradley's most beautiful designs. 

A recreation of Victorian designs incorporating instructions and a collection of repeating patterns. Many designs and uses are presented such as, cushions with flower designs, tassel designs, patterns for making pictures or rugs and ideas for decoration or present-giving.

Cushions that feature subtly shaded, mossy rosebud wreaths. A dark-eyed spaniel so adorable that you'll wish it were real. Rich autumn leaves, a cord and tassel design for borders and patchwork pillows: all these projects display the rich colors and the enchanting details of the finest Victorian embroidery. Whether your pleasure is animals, florals, abstract geometrics, or repeating patterns, they're here--along with a selection of borders and needlework rugs. Stitch shy rabbits nestling in a leafy woodland hollow. Delight a horse-crazy little girl with the pretty white palomino pony delicately lifting its hoof. A posy of violets looks wonderful on a pillow set against crisp linen sheets and antique fabrics, while the giant wreath makes a splendid project for an ambitious flower-loving needleperson. Abstract backgrounds include interlocking diamonds and stars, pinstripes, and overlapping ribbons. From pin cushions and pictures to chair covers and carpets, every pattern is breathtaking! 

15/07/23

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