#Professional Interior Decoration Course

[iwpindiaonline]

Best Interior Designing Course in Delhi, India

Enroll in our Interior Designing and Decoration Course in Delhi, India, and develop the skills to design stunning, functional spaces. Our comprehensive program covers everything from color theory to furniture placement, giving you the expertise to create beautiful interiors. start your career in interior design with Iwpindiaonline.

[ellierenae]

SUPER UNIQUE writing ideas for hobbyists and professionals looking for fun, personal projects to get their inspo back

get a fictional pen pal (ask your other writer friends!) and spend time decorating envelopes, picking out a handwriting style, maybe buying a cheap perfume/cologne that smells like your character to really get to know them and feel their presence. if you have hand tremors or bad handwriting like me, you can choose a handwriting font for them and print their letters out!! more examples: save the dates, wedding invitations, birthday cards, party invites, etc.

use old calendars in character (there are many "expired" planners on sale around the end of the year, usually August) personally, i use them to record major life events like first band tours, trips abroad, holidays, birthdays... even trash pickup days and when they forget to roll out the bins!

sketch floor plans this can be on graph paper if you have the know-how when it comes to scaling down, but there are also tons of simple apps that allow you to both create the floor plan a builder would use and add furniture like an interior decorator. some even let you rotate them afterwards and see the furniture and walls burst to life in 3D! you can think of them as the sims but where everything is actually to scale

make an architectural model if you have some scrap cardboard, paper, and glue, you can easily bring the floor plan you just made to life (you'll need practice if you want to get really fancy with it of course! window panes and railings are the gnarliest part for me, haha)

make a playlist as your character maybe the most accessible one on this list, you can make the playlist your character listens to. sometimes this can be fun and surprising, like when my little guy Possum from Violence Without Plot is covered in tattoos and plays punk music on stage but listens to nothing but spa music to wind down between shows

write something your character can see this one is so weird to summarize but what i mean is like... a school essay for your teacher character to grade. cryptic street signs warning about danger by the lake. a memorial plaque beneath a statue. a character's online blog. a few of the cards in a grandmother's recipe box. a business card for a smooth-talking lawyer. things you can write that make everything feel so textured and real

these are all things i do on the daily, and it makes my life as a writer a thousand times more joyful and fulfilling. so have fun, be safe, and don't forget to unplug the hot glue when you're done <3

[artbyblastweave]

The earlier Grue post has reminded me of an observation I had a while ago but never got around to hammering out- basically no superheroes actually featured in a parahumans story maintain a secret identity in the classic bifurcated sense. There's anonymity, sure, and as seen in the Dauntless interlude there are cover stories that their neighbors hear about their day job, but with the exception of pointed edge cases like Alexandria and Brandish, the professionalization of heroism is near total. None of these people are juggling a day job. Examples of the classic dual identity situation are actually slightly more common among the villains- Purity has a day job as an interior decorator, and Kaiser and Coil are in charge of their respective companies- but of course all of those are kinda "set-your-own-hours" kinds of situations. Kaiser's got people and Coil's literally got a power custom made to grease the wheels on two-timing in that way. The majority are full-time gangsters or mercenaries. Taylor's pre-Leviathan juggling of school and supervillainy is actually the main example of anyone trying to do it and the course that ultimately takes is instructional as to why she's the only one. Taylor mentions that people joke about her iterant teacher Mr. Quinlan secretly being a cape, but a lot of the book is spent quietly putting the torch to the idea that that kind of balance is tenable. Like at a minimum people would notice that you're running off all the time, there's a whole shell-game played with pulling random kids out of class at Arcadia to obfuscate which ones are actually the superheroes.

[featheredclover]

Orphic

Chapter Three

Read from the beginning

Also on Wattpad

Chapter Two> <Chapter Four

The ornate mirror held her reflection with a grand poise. A poise, Khushi desperately wished she possessed at the moment.

She stood up, startling Sumi, who was curling her hair to the utmost perfection. 

“Khushi baby” she grumbled disapprovingly.

She walked up to her window, overseeing the gazebo in the grounds. Her mummy stood supervising the brunch set up, rivalling an army officer’s precision.

“The Raizadas are coming for brunch!”

She had announced so happily last night. And Khushi then saw the triumphant glance shared between her parents, so she had curbed her usual whining.

“Perfect opportunity to bag the contract”, her papa had said.

She sighed despondently. Sumi grabbed her arm and plopped her in front of the dresser. Khushi smiled sheepishly, while Sumi kept on scolding.

She was reminded of when she was five and Sumi, her matronly maid, would help her get dressed. Only back then she didn’t have to worry about facing a devilish man.

————

Laughter filled the air, cutlery making their presence known and the famous Gupta delicacies made it to the plates.

Khushi smiled as she brought out the teapot.

She took her seat next to Akash and sighed in relief as Mr. Arnav was nowhere in sight.

She knew Akash as well as the back of her hand since they were toddlers and could draw some comfort that she had someone to talk to.

“Hey”

Khushi looked up and saw a handsome young man, with gentle eyes and the most pleasing smile. 

God! He even has dimples! She thought with a tinge of jealousy.

“Do you mind?” He gestured to the chair on her right, interrupting her perusal smoothly.

“Of course not, “ she smiled back.

“Khushi, meet Noah Kelly Raizada, my cousin. Noah, meet my friend, Khushi Gupta “ , Akash chimed in.

“Noah Kelly?” she asked after he had settled down.

“Yes. My mum’s an American. And my dad, well he’s a Raizada,” he said with an embarrassed laugh.

“You didn’t grow up here?”

“Nope. Otherwise I wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity to be friends with such a beautiful girl!” he winked mischievously.

Khushi giggled, blushing at the compliment.

“Sorry, I’m late” 

A booming voice made everyone look up at the newly arrived Raizada. Mr Arnav looked impeccable, except the frown between his brows.

“Arnav beta! Welcome! Grab a seat and pile up your plate!“ her papa greeted enthusiastically, before diving back into his conversation with the senior Raizada.

Khushi looked at Shyam, who was clutching his fork, his fury visible in his clenched jaws. Hoping for the brunch to pass by smoothly, she brought her attention back to her eggs.

“So what do you do Khushi?” 

Smiling at Noah, she said, “ I am working as an assistant interior designer at my aunt’s firm.”  

Unknown to her, her face was aglow with love for the work she did.

Before Noah could get a word in, Arnav interrupted rudely, “Typical “.

“Excuse me?” Khushi asked, her back straightening in defence.

“ Your aunt gave you the job, so you could have something to do”

“And you assume that? How, may I ask?”

“Um, Arnav can you pass me the bre-“ Noah attempted to break the tension.

“Well, nepotism is the answer. Who else would hire the nineteen year old decorator?”

She breathed in deeply. Blinking her eyelids, to keep herself from shedding angry tears. She looked up, straight into his eyes.

“ I am not a ‘decorator’. I am someone with a degree in interior designing,who got hired by an aunt, who is well known in Lucknow for her professionalism. And how is it any different from the Raizada enterprises? You are the son of the eldest Raizada heir, so because of the nepotism  you hate so much you are the next boss. And a class-A jerk at that! Excuse me.”

Her chair scraped against the floor. She hastened off, after whispering an excuse of a headache in her mum’s ear, ignoring a pair of eyes imploring her to look at him.

—————

Her heels clicked down the stairs, as Khushi heard noises coming from the drawing room.

She was greeted by her mother the next moment, as she was guiding the help to take tea to whoever was working with her papa.

“Aah! Khushi! Dancing again?”

She looked at her mum with suspicious eyes. She had never been happy about her evenings at the club. Maybe the brunch had worked out well.

“Yes, I am meeting my friends there.”

“Oh well, please spare my poor heart and don’t drive by yourself. Take Hari Prakash with you!”

And with that she hurried into the drawing room.

And off she went in search of Hari Prakash, her mother’s trusted spy!

————

Soft music blasted from the car stereo, as she found herself drifting off to what happened that afternoon.

What a rude man! 

She knew the Raizadas were filthy rich and such people tend to raise kids to become bratty adults. But she didn’t expect the man who had tricked her, quite charmingly, into accepting a date with him to humiliate her.

 Decorator! He had reduced her education to nothing!, she thought angrily. 

The car rolled into the basement parking , and Khushi took the elevator to the Ray’s club, a place frequently haunted by Lucknow’s wealthy kids.

No more thinking Khushi! Just have fun tonight! She thought furiously, determined to not let anyone spoil her evening.

—————

“Khuuuushiiiii” Preetika smiled gleefully, her slurred shout barely audible over the music.

She hugged her, and sneaked in a whisper

“How much did you drink already?”

Three perfectly manicured fingers were lifted up and Khushi knew her friend was going to dominate the dance floor in a few minutes .

Payal joined the two and soon they were dragged towards a table.

“ It’s the summer of 86 darling! Have a martini and forget your worries!” Payal sang, handing a glass to Khushi.

“One drink! That’s all I can have!”

“Stop-pp being a b-bore K!” Preetika scolded.

“I am serious! HP is down in the basement”

Payal looked at her aghast.

“Why couldn’t you tell aunty I could drop you?”

Khushi rolled her eyes.

“As if you don’t know Garima Gupta well enough”

“ I just know that she loves her daughter too much!” Payal laughed. 

She looked down at her watch.

“Awaiting A-Akash are w-we?”

“Well yes Preeto! Who else? He is bringing dates for you two by the way “

“WHAT?” Khushi’s heart skipped a beat.

“Well yeah some American cousin of his and another friend. Chill Khushi!“

Khushi sat back down, not really hearing Preetika’s inquiries about the American cousin.

Her fear was not unfounded, but she knew Akash and Noah had heard her fight with Arnav. Hoping they will be sensitive enough, she absently gulped down her martini at once.

Soon her arm was tugged and she was pulled onto the dance floor. The disco lights blinded her, but she swayed to the music, shouting out the lyrics with Preeto and giggling at Payal’s awkward but spirited moves. 

Khushi Gupta, true to the martini’s promise, forgot all about her worries as Kishore Kumar blared through the speaker.

Bolo ommmmm, shanti ommmmm! 

—————

Sweaty and happy, the trio sat down at their table. 

Trust Payal to ensure appetisers and more drinks to already be at their table.

“ I wanna dance more! “ Preeto shouted.

“ Well, dance away with the American once he’s here!”

Khushi smiled as she sipped her martini, forgetting all about the one drink rule. 

“Payal!”

They looked up to see Akash and Noah walk up to them. Preeto stood up first and muttered a soft “oh my god!” under her breath.

“Meet my cousin Noah Kelly Raizada “ Akash winked at Preeto, well aware of her interest.

“ Please Akash… you guys can call me NK, I prefer it in fact!” he said, while rubbing the back of his neck adorably.

Payal laughed.

“Well NK, meet my friends! Khushi and Preetika.”

“Aah Khushi we meet again”

Khushi smiled back, hoping her untimely exit would not be the topic of discussion.

“What?”

“K! How dare you?”

Payal and Preeto looked at her curiously.

“Guptas hosted a brunch for the Raizadas girls” Akash said, saving Khushi from the trouble.

“ And why were you invited?” Preeto quizzed.

“My mother is a Raizada, Preetika. How much did you drink already?”he laughed.

Payal elbowed Akash. “Where is Khushi’s date?” She whispered unsuccessfully.

A guilty look flooded his face, while relief flooded through Khushi.

“ It’s fine Akash! I don’t need a da-“

“ He is here” a voice sounded behind her and she turned to look into the brown orbs, igniting her fury, misery and her lust at once.

——————

Next chapter>>

Tagging: @arshifiesta

@jalebi-weds-bluetooth @barshifan @andli @shiyaravi @muttonthings @hand-picked-star @msbhagirathi @phuljari @sankititaliya @thenainitaldisaster @thedupattaknowswhatsup @chutkiandchotte @laad-governess @laadgovernors @laadgovernorandsankadevi @leila1 @hi-this-is-permabanned @arshispyaar @minpdnim @thedustyshehnai @bigfatreader @arshiradio @simplycurlz @scorpio-smiles @bengudill @exosexosekai @0218fm

[wallterwall]

Any suggestions on how to change the wood in my house to concrete? You truly inspired me with your words to be a concrete lover

Well, there are quite a few answers I could provide you with, my fellow concrete connoisseur!

I'd say it highly depends on just how much wood you're working with- if it is only the furniture, I would advise you trash it into the nearest garbage disposal and simply purchase new and improved, concrete interior decoration. (However, I'd personally opt for no furniture. Minimalism is quite perky!)

I would recommend hiring a team of professionals for anything bolder, such as replacing walls or rooftops. If you are in need of our services, W. Brickwork Network is always open to any bricklaying or concrete-producing projects or collaborative efforts; for the right price, of course! We can spruce your humble home right up- just without the 'spruce', haha!

[helluvaoutlaw]

Beyond Duty

(((Thread for @lady-phenix , in which Striker is a captain serving the Ars Goetia, Royal Captain AU.)))

Handpicked by King Paimon of the Ars Goetia, Captain Striker was tasked with a role of significant prestige, albeit one he privately deemed somewhat degrading: serving as the captain of the guards for the Marquis Andras and his wife, Lady Phenix, daughter of King Paimon.

Despite his personal reservations, Striker knew better than to voice his disdain.

To be chosen for such a role was an honor, King Paimon had assured him, but the prospect of, well, babysitting two nobles left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He should be either on the battlefield or on the streets, defending the denizens.

Striker arrived at the grand palace of the Marquis atop his formidable hellhorse, Invictus. The creature's hooves struck the ground with a resounding power, sending sparks flying with each step. Invictus, with his midnight black coat and eyes that burned with an inner fire, was a beast that commanded respect and fear in equal measure.

Dressed impeccably in his elegant uniform, Striker cut an imposing figure as he dismounted. His attire spoke volumes of his rank and the high expectations placed upon him: black trousers tucked into knee-high boots adorned with golden and red decorations, a dark red coatee uniform with golden shoulder pads and intricate embroidery, a pair of black gloves and a short, black and golden cape that fell just to the middle of his back. At his side hung a golden rapier, its blade forged from angelic steel, its guard decorated with golden feathers and entwined snakes. A wooden and golden cavalry pistol completed his ensemble, symbolizing both tradition and authority.

Striker approached the palace's entrance and was greeted by the butler, a dignified figure whose demeanor radiated calm efficiency.

“Good afternoon.”

Striker began, his voice steady and formal. Since his academy days, he forced himself to lose his Wrathian accent, considered too crass and informal to use with the nobility.

“Captain Striker, reporting for duty. Please announce me to his Lordship, the Marquis Andras.”

The butler gave a curt nod, acknowledging the request.

“Of course, Captain. Please wait here for a moment.”

With that, the butler turned and disappeared into the opulent interior of the palace.

As he stood waiting, Striker kept his thoughts carefully guarded. He was a soldier, a protector, and now, the personal guard to nobility. Whatever his personal feelings, he would fulfill his duty with the same excellence that had defined his career thus far.

With a final, calming breath, he steeled himself to meet his new charges and masters, ready to present himself to the Marquis and Marquess with all the respect and professionalism his position demanded.

[omgfloofy]

Audi Star of Lucis Text

During a discussion in the FFXV Book Club discord, the wayback machine link for the Audi Star of Lucis webpage was linked, but when nothing came up, it was immediately dismissed as not working.

In an attempt to find any leads to more content, I started digging through the page inspector to look for the source and found all the text - archive.org wasn't playing the script, and thus none of the text would display.

I initially started to work up a page that preserved some of the styling, but I opted to not do that since that was a lot of work. LOL

So instead, I've just pasted in the text below the cut with *some* styling going on. The primary reason for this, though, is because OF COURSE, there would be some tiny tidbits on the world in the midst of this flowery marketing copy.

Enjoy!

INTRODUCTION

Insomnia, Crown City of the enchanted Kingdom of Lucis

The walled city of insomnia, Crown City of the kingdom of Lucis, is shielded by a force field that offers full protection against enemy attacks and has granted its citizens an extended period of peace and prosperity. This protective shield is generated by a mysterious crystal in the control of King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII.

Insomnia is a maze of transport arteries, neon illumined skyscrapers and ancient marble monoliths adorned in gold and platinum that cast splendid reflections upon surrounding skyscrapers. Visitors are typically mesmerized by the rare amalgamation of ancient culture and modern technology.

The best of Audi and the Royal Art Society of Lucis

Audi has played a pivotal role in the evolution of automobiles, always driven by its Vorsprung durch Technik slogan. One of its pinnacle achievements is the Audi R8, a genuine handcrafted work of art. Components are manually produced, assembled and polished to lustrous perfection by a small team of master craftsmen at the quattro GmbH factory.

The Royal Art Society of Lucis has likewise been a leader in the production of groundbreaking products. For over 150 years, it has taken on new challenges while never straying from its tradition of innovation and excellence. The unprecedented challenge this time was for the seasoned professionals at the Royal Art Society of Lucis to join Audi's top engineers in creating something truly extraordinary — the Audi R8 Star of Lucis. A fusion of car and crystal.

From Audi to the Kingdom of Lucis

Audi proudly received a Royal Warrant from the Kingdom of Lucis in recognition of its automotive quality, performance and styling. In commemoration of this honor, and to celebrate the 20th birthday of Prince Noctis, heir to the throne, Audi custom designed the Audi R8 Star of Lucis for the Prince. This gift reflects our heartfelt gratitude to the citizens of the Kingdom of Lucis and to the Royal Family, which has long supported the automotive industry. We hope it brings joy to the Prince, his family and friends for years to come.

COLOR

An exquisite finish in the royal color

Black represents the light of the Lucis Royal Family and coats the great crystal, intensifying its brilliance. There are many attractive shades of this royal color in the Kingdom of Lucis, including Ramuhstard Black and Lucis Ebony Black. However, we chose Ultrossic Black to complement the premium metallic finish with a subtle trace of purple.

DESIGN

Design inherited from the gods

Arabesque pattern

This traditional pattern of the Tenebrae oracle clan confers peace, blessings and well being on the Kingdom of Lucis. It has long graced the decorations, attire and accessories of the Royal Family. Delicate yet strong, it conveys a luxury and dignity commensurate with a work of divine art.

Lucis emblem wheels

Each intricately crafted wheel represents the Kingdom of Lucis emblem with finely sculpted swords, the symbols of true mastery, brandished amid rose-like petals.

INTERIOR

An interior fit for the Prince

In pursuit of interior beauty befitting the Royal Family, Audi pondered perfection and the qualities most valued by the Prince to arrive at a gratifying solution. The cockpit is efficiently designed and thoroughly refined to make driving intuitive. It frees the Prince to focus on the road while comfortably cruising for hours at high speed. The steering wheel is wrapped in fine leather that gently clings to the palms and features orange stitching carefully placed to enhance tactile pleasure. Clear royal quality audio is delivered by an advanced Bang & Olufsen sound system. A fully digital Audi virtual cockpit graces the instrument panel. Audi connect® provides internet access while Audi connect Navigator instantly links the Prince with an operator at any desired time. Diverse infotainment is always at the Prince's command and within his field of view.

PERFORMANCE

Performance worthy of the future King

In the Crown City Insomnia, where the automobile industry flourishes, a rare fuel from the Western Cavaugh is being fused with crystal to develop a new source of energy. Much of the technology is still experimental, but a number of resulting advances have already been applied to the Audi R8 V10 engine with dramatic effect. The engine responds smoothly and quietly through the streets of Insomnia, but roars with wild abandon when released from civilized constraints in the vast outer reaches of the kingdom.

Bonus

In my tumble down the rabbit hole over the side content for the car, I came across information of a Concept Book (also with an insanely limited print number), and it has some other little things in it.

But first, this cover is NUTS. And I'm all for it.

It looks black until you look at it through a cell phone camera. And you can apparently see the image if you shine a bright light on it.

One of the images in the book, though, has this-

The most important part of this, is I think at the bottom of the plaque, it says something like, "Dedicated [may be incorrect on this] of this first day of the first month of the year seven hundred fifty six."

So it makes me think that this was meant as a 'Coming of Age' gift as much as a birthday gift. (Especially since Insomnia is heavily based on Japan, and at the time FFXV came out, 20 was the age of majority. (it has been lowered to 18, as of 2022.)

It's an interesting thought, I think, that goes with it. I'm trying to find more info on the Concept Book, though, and may post more about it down the line if I do find it.

[elisysd]

Seasons – Bebe Rexha

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

I lie awake inside a dream And I run, run, run away from me

Sitting on the bed, in the little apartment she rents, she sighs. She doesn’t seem to get her lines right. She is supposed to begin the shoot of her movie tomorrow at Jardin Exotique. It’s going to be beautiful; she knows it, she went there to get a hold of the atmosphere. But no matter how heavenly the locations where the movie is being shot are, she can’t seem to forget how nightmarish the three months shooting is going to be.

She is an actress. A pretty good one. Hell, she was nominated for Best supporting actress last year. Didn’t get the award though. Damn Florence Pugh… But since her big break in the last Steven Spielberg movie, she is getting calls from a lot of people dying to work with her. Well, her agent Sophia is getting calls while she is trying to stay away from this madness as much as possible. People would say she is ungrateful. After all, she is living the dream life of so many people. But she doesn’t see it that way.

All that she has ever wanted to do is telling stories. She has always loved acting for as long as she can remember. Having the possibility to be another person, to craft the life of an imaginary character from A to Z and Z to A, that’s what she loves the most. All the characters she had the chance to embody, she knows them like the back of her hand. They are a part of her more than she is a part of them. She never wanted to be famous, she just happened to be. She always chose her projects because it resonated deeply with her, no matter if it was a short movie, an independent one or the latest fantasy of a masterminded director.

Of course she worked hard to be where she is today. She left her home country as soon as she turned 18 to go to London to pursue her passion. She has eaten more BLT sandwiches in her life than caviar and drinking champagne. Her acting debut were not easy, far from it. She fought to get where she is today. It’s just the fame aspect of her job that she is struggling with. But lately it seems to be harder than usual.

She booked a role in a romantic comedy. She has never done one of those so when she got the opportunity, she took it, thinking that it would be fun. It’s a low budget movie, it doesn’t have the ambition to be serious. She liked the script and thought that after the Steven Spielberg’s movie that got her the Oscar nomination it would be a nice change. People, and by people mostly journalists, thought that she would aim for bigger and more dramatic roles, things that could get her an Oscar for, this time, best actress. But it was never her intention. Sure, it was nice to be recognized by industries professionals, but it was never her goal. She doesn’t act to get awards. She acts because it’s where she feels like she belongs.

The movie is about an interior decorator that gets a contract with the royal family of Monaco. It’s a cliché story, a nobody that happens to catch the attention of the prince, but in the beginning, Sally the woman she’s playing, doesn’t know about him and happens to be quite mean to him. It’s a basic enemies to lovers story. But she doesn’t care, she likes it.

At first, when she learned that she was actually shooting in Monaco and not in some studios with green screen, she was excited. It’s a dreamy location and it would not be far away of where she grew up. She comes from a small town in the east of France. She thought that it would be a good opportunity to see her family. With her career, she didn’t get to see her loved ones very often. Christmas was quite lonely these last few years for her. But then reality hit her like a truck driving at the speed of light with no brakes functioning.

There is a reason she doesn’t live in Los Angeles and rather stay in London. She hates all the sparks and hypocrisy that come with Los Angeles. People flaunting their money and designer bags, fake friends pretending to like you because you are popular at the moment but as soon as you are starting to lose interest from the public eye, you become irrelevant, the endless partying… she hates everything there. Sure, she lost some professional opportunities when she made it clear that she would never move there. But she rather loose contracts than who she is. London is where she loves to be. She doesn’t dream, nor want to go anywhere else.

Monaco reminds her of Los Angeles. Luxurious cars, luxurious shops, luxurious everything everywhere. People like to show off. She doesn’t. So she doesn’t go out much, only when she needs it… Though she arrived in Monaco with the firm intention to spend the few weeks before the beginning of the shooting behaving as the perfect tourist, she has to admit she completely failed. She doesn’t like the vibe. And when she doesn’t like something, good luck to change her mind.

So she spent her days locked in her apartment, learning her lines, and breaking down her script and her nights near the beach, when people are out in bars and clubs and when the city is less crowded. Really, Monaco doesn’t feel like a dream to her.

The only thing that she admits enjoying is the sweet piano melodies that she sometimes hear from the apartment below hers…

[alittlextrathatway]

Line: "And the saddest fear comes creeping in." Location: HGTV taping.

Alright time for a brand new AU universe.

You guys don't know it but I have an AU idea in my head for HGTV Brettsey for YEARS.

I am not throwing away my shot.

***

Sometimes Sylvie feels guilty about the lie she and Matt are perpetrating for the world, but then she remembers what it felt like to essentially be blacklisted from working and decides a lie is better than being homeless and starving.

Besides, this lie hurts no one but themselves. They're the ones who have to forego love lives in order to pretend to be an engaged home renovation power couple.

Their friends Severide and Stella introduced them years ago. Matt's business-partner-slash-ex had left him in the lurch. She sold him her half of the business, which was great, but she left him without an interior designer. Sylvie's ex and former best friend had taken all of her clients and run her out of town so she was an interior designer without any work.

She met Stella on her first night in Chicago while the latter was bartending at a firefighter bar named Molly's. Sylvie literally cried into her beer about her misfortunes and Stella was quick to help.

"You know, you're an interior designer with no clients and my husband's best friend is a contractor with clients but no interior designer. Maybe the two of you could help each other out?"

It was the suggestion that changed her life.

Kelly and Stella hosted a dinner to introduce her to Matt and they got along like a house on fire. Matt is funny, genuine, and thoughtful. The opposite of her ex. They also had similar visions for a few of his current clients. His design ideas for construction reflected her favorite interior spaces to decorate. Professionally speaking, they were a match made in heaven.

And their clients' feedback reflected that. As business grew so did their friendship. But since things went horribly wrong with Harrison and Hope, Sylvie promised herself never to mix business and pleasure. Matt felt similarly, considering his history with his own ex. Which meant, no matter how close they became or how her feelings evolved, they would always only be friends.

Even when the world and HGTV thought otherwise.

They hadn't meant to perpetrate a fraud but they got the offer for the tv show, signed the contracts, and then found out about a terrible misunderstanding.

HGTV thought they were married.

That was the real reason they wanted to offer them the show. They wanted half reality television and half home renovation. If they weren't married then the show would have been cancelled.

It was a shot in the dark that they would be picked up for a full season anyway. So, after a lengthy discussion, they went along with the story and decided not to fully correct their misunderstanding. As a compromise and an attempt to assuage their guilt, they told HGTV they were engaged instead of married.

By some miracle, they bought it.

And now, three years later, their show is still going strong and the American public thinks they're happily engaged and on their way to wedded bliss.

Only in Sylvie's wildest dreams.

Of course over the last three years, her pretend love for Matt Casey has become full blown, head over heels, unconditional love. Not that he knows that. She's pretty certain he's none the wiser.

"Cut!"

Sylvie's jarred from her thoughts by the sudden yell and shakes herself back to the present, taking in Matt's concerned face.

"Hey, guys," he requests, smiling politely. "Can you give us a second?"

The director nods and sighs tiredly. "Yeah, sure thing. Take five, everyone! When we come back we'll pick back up with the initial property walk through."

Once the crew has dispersed, Matt gently pulls her aside with a guiding hand on the small of her back. "Are you okay?"

She bites her bottom lip and idly spins her engagement ring, a habit she's developed when she's anxious. "That meeting we had with the network this morning..."

"I thought we said we weren't going to worry about that today?" He asks her, with a soft scolding stare.

"We say a lot of things, Matt, but that doesn't mean they're all true."

He snorts and chuckles at her, taking her left hand in his to stop her from twirling her ring. "We'll work something out."

"Work something out?" She says in a harsh whisper. "They want us to set a wedding date. A wedding date for our extremely fake engagement. A wedding date that will be used to market the renovation deadline of our future home that we're going to take on in the midst of all of our other clients and responsibilities."

"They'll compensate us appropriately so we can scale back our clients and focus only on our house. The workload will be fine," he assures her.

Okay, but that's not even the biggest part of her concerns! How is he so calm? How is he okay with marrying her, a woman he doesn't love? "Great, I'm glad to hear about the workload," she replies dryly. "Nevermind the huge wedding they want us to have, film, and then promote as a tv special. That's not a big deal at all."

He sighs and the sound comes off as hopeless and wistful all at once. His callused fingers grip her chin and lift her face until they’re eye to eye. Once he has her full attention, he brushes a loose tendril of hair out of her eyes and tucks it behind her ear. The gesture makes her stomach swoop in the most delightfully nauseating way.

Ugh, why does she have to be in love with her best friend and business partner? Why is nothing in her life ever straight forward?

"Look, I get it, no one wants you to marry a guy you're not in love with, least of all me. But we'll find a way to stall them. We've gotten pretty good at it over the last few years. We'll think of something. For now, though, let the network think they're gonna finally get that wedding special they've always wanted. It'll keep them off our backs for a little while at least."

She doesn't like his tone. He doesn't sound like himself. Not the flirtatiously playful version of himself he usually is when they're filming anyway. This is solemn Matt Casey. The one she sees most often when he’s stressed or anxious or in some sort of emotional turmoil.

He was fine until she let her fears get the better of her and got distracted during a heavy filming day. For his sake, she needs to get it together. She can sort out how to bury her feelings for Matt and get them out of this mess later.

"You're right," she says, taking a slow and soothing breath. "We'll figure out. We always do. I mean, whatever else our fans think we are, we've always been a great team." She smiles warmly at him, hoping the expression leaves her faith in the two of them on full display. From the day they met, he's been nothing but exceptionally good to her. Even if his feelings have never gone beyond platonic. "I don't see that changing anytime soon."

He squeezes her hand with an earnestly devoted look on his face that's too beautiful to be misread. "Not if I can help it. There's no one else I'd rather be partners with than you."

He means business partners. She knows he does, but is it terrible of her to internally swoon anyway? God, she's so screwed. How did she let this happen and how can she get out of it unscathed?

Matt Casey's going to break her heart and he'll never even know it.

[duologies]

short yue qinglan-centric character study thing. completed jan 28. rest is under the cut ＼(￣▽￣)／

Yue Qinglan had a dilemma.

“This won’t do,” he muttered to himself. “I need a human test subject.”

Earlier that day he had been testing the efficacy of a new general remedy he had concocted on chickens. While the remedy seemed to work, he had no idea if it would have the same results on humans. Truth be told, he felt pity for the livestock he ran tests on, but without a willing human volunteer, he did not feel comfortable testing on anything else. Testing on himself was out of the question–not only was it unwise, generally poisons and illness had little to no effect on him. He got up from behind his desk and paced around his room before steeling his resolve. It was highly uncomfortable, but Yue Qinglan did not see another alternative.

Yue Qinglan swiftly arrived at the farm from which he procured his chicken test subjects. He knocked lightly on the humble house’s door. An old woman in her sixties answered. When she saw Yue Qinglan, her face lit up.

“Oh, it’s you again, Yue-xiansheng! More chickens?”

“Actually, I came to ask for something else. Or, rather, I have a question for you.”

“What is it? Just ask, don’t be shy.”

Yue Qinglan shifted uncomfortably. “Well, Ping-laolao, to be blunt–do you know anyone who’s gravely ill or dying?”

Ping-laolao seemed taken aback for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered. “Hmm… I think there is someone. The Zhou family has a young daughter who’s going through a severe bout of illness right now. Does that help?”

Yue Qinglan nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, that’s it! Thank you, Ping-laolao!” Then he dashed off to the Zhou residence.

Someone who was severely sick or near death’s door had nothing to lose; they were the perfect test subject for a new medicine. If his general remedy failed, then at the very least it would soothe the patient’s pain until he could find the root of the problem. This general remedy was made from distilling the dew off plants that grew in areas rich in beneficial spiritual energy. The resulting liquid acted as a somewhat magical purifier. While the process of distillation was relatively simple, harvesting the dew was not. Fortunately, one dose required only a few drops, depending on a person’s build and weight. A remedy like this was sure to work for most regular illnesses, and would be especially effective against maladies with supernatural causes.

Of course, since Yue Qinglan was not a professional doctor nor an alchemist, there was some margin for error. He merely dabbled in these things because he found them interesting. While he had studied under an actual doctor and therefore had practical knowledge and experience, he would still urge people to visit a medical professional whenever possible. It was simply safer that way.

He arrived at the Zhou family’s residence still lost in thought. Before knocking on the door, he steeled himself again and tried to make his expression as neutral as possible. He must not look too eager or spirited; it would give the poor family the impression that he was excited someone was sick. He knocked on the door. A man who appeared to be in his thirties greeted Yue Qinglan.

“Hello,” said Yue Qinglan cordially. “I heard your daughter was very ill, and I think I might have something that may help.”

“Oh, so it’s Yue-xiansheng! Come in, come in.” The father stepped aside and gestured for Yue Qinglan to enter.

Yue Qinglan stepped over the threshold, and then was led to a small room off to the western side of the house. The Zhou family did not have a very large home. There was only the house itself, and a small courtyard in the front. The interior was modest and practical; aside from a few houseplants, there was nothing else decorating the halls. As the father and Yue Qinglan approached the daughter’s room, sniffling accompanied by a woman’s hushed voice could be heard.

The father knocked on the bedroom door. “Yue-xiansheng is here,” he called. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” the mother said as she opened the door. 

“If I could just get in…” Yue Qinglan interrupted. He edged past the parents as gently as possible. He approached the daughter’s bed, then kneeled at the head. The little girl appeared to be about five or six years old. She was sniffling miserably; her eyes were puffy and her cheeks red. She did not appear very sick at all. The parents were hovering worriedly near the end of the bed.

“How bad is it?” the mother asked anxiously.

“Her condition doesn’t appear too serious. When did she start feeling unwell?”

“About three days ago.”

“Has she eaten anything strange? Or has she been anywhere unusual?”

“Not at all; everything’s been normal.”

Ah, so it’s likely just a cold then. It was still winter; given the amount of time that had already elapsed and the absence of abnormal events, that was the most plausible explanation. Yue Qinglan did not know whether to be relieved that it was not anything serious, or a little annoyed that his remedy would be used on something so trivial as a cold. He tried his best to mask his exasperation. He turned to face the little girl. Smiling gently, he said, “Alright, I have something that will help you get better. I promise that it doesn’t taste bitter.” He took out a small gourd from his qiankun pouch and offered it to the girl. “Just one drop is all you need.”

The little girl obediently took a tiny sip before returning the gourd. Almost instantly, her eyes cleared up, the redness of her cheeks faded, and her breathing became easier. Yue Qinglan watched this process with an intense stare and a hand to his chin. Upon seeing the girl recover near instantaneously, he felt immense satisfaction; he even held back a smile. While he had been initially disappointed that the fruit of his labour would be used like this, he could not call it a waste. It had achieved its purpose, and that was all he could ask for. He nodded, then stood up.

“Your daughter has fully recovered now. If there’s nothing else, I will take my leave.” He promptly turned around and walked toward the bedroom door. Before he could open it, however, the father called after him.

“Wait. That’s it? What about payment?”

Yue Qinglan turned, but not all the way. “Don’t worry about that. I find joy in the work itself. Besides, this was just an experiment.” Then he left, leaving the couple both relieved and dumbfounded.

[iwpindiaonline]

[elijah-wilfred-boyle]

Literal Perfection

Chapter 6.

Welcome the chapter 6 the one where Darius and the reader finally do things,

CW: shit gets steamy, but no actual smut happens yet, I'm saving that for later ;)

enjoy this and I'll see you when chapter 7 eventually comes out.

--------------------

Living with the Abominations Covenhead was.... interesting to say the least.

You did your duties all the same, you went to meetings, made up Darius' schedules, booked his appointments, even did the housework, but Darius began to get a little more, affectionate, with you as of lately.

It started off tame enough, pet names instead of your actual name, standing a little closer to you than usual, constant praise and compliments, and then it became lingering touches, late night talks and longing looks.

But today, really set a different tone to what you believed was a strictly professional relationship.

"Here, I've got a gift for you." A lilac box with a deep purple bow was placed in front of you, the covenhead waiting patiently for you to open it, hand behind his back.

"Oh, thank you." You stutter, quickly taking the box and pulling the ribbon off, inside was a beautiful mauve cloak with gold embroidery at the bottom, you were shocked by the extremely generous gift, "I- Headwitch this is beautiful, are you sure you want me to have it?"

"Of course, something told me you'd like it and I guess they were right." He grinned at you before moving around the desk to stand you up, "Come on up you get, you need to try it on!"

You laugh in shock as you're hauled to your feet by Darius and the cloak is tied securely to you, Darius turns you in a circle, "Oh, beautiful, you look stunning darling."

Your faced darkened as you laughed embarrassed, "Darius stop, thank you for the cloak, but only for the cloak, I don't appreciate the compliments you know I don't."

The Headwitch leaned on your desk and sighed, "Oh one day I'll get you to appreciate my compliments, maybe you'll even give me one back?"

"In your dreams." You challenged with a smile.

That night you had been invited to dinner with your brother and his family and while you were sat in the main room with your nieces and nephew, Amity rolled over to you and stared at you.

You glanced down at the witch suspiciously, "What's up Mittens?"

"I heard a bit of gossip recently", she began moving closer to you, "Do you want to hear it?"

You nod, never one to deny gossip.

"Well, the rumours is that you and Headwitch Darius are in a relationship, is it true?"

You blink twice, "Uh, it isn't, where'd you hear that from?"

She shrugged, "just some kids at Hexside, but you and Darius would make a really cute couple, just saying."

You laugh and feel your face get warm, "Really? I don't know, maybe."

It was a nice thought, and something that could happen.

'It could happen', you thought to yourself.

The next day you and Darius were working in silence when you suddenly asked, "Who chose the layout of the Coven House?"

Darius glanced up at you quizzically, "I did, why do you like it?"

You hummed, "Opposite actually, I think its horrendous."

You grin to yourself as you hear him gasp in offense, "Excuse you! This is the most glamorous Coven building, it is filled with the finest-"

You laugh loudly as Darius scowls at you, "its so easy to get you riled up, it's funny." You lean back in your chair and smile at him, "I don't think it's horrendous, the majority of the Coven is beautiful, your office however is a modern catastrophe, nothing here matches with the rest of the Coven's aesthetic."

"Oh and you know so much about interior decorating do you?" Darius stood from his desk moved to yours, leaning on the dark wooden desk, "Then go on my darling, enlighten me."

"I know about interior decorating because that's what I did before I became your assistant, and I don't want you to change anything, your office is so very you, it just sticks out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the place, but I do like some parts of it."

The Covenhead raised an eyebrow in interest, "Oh? And which parts may that be?"

You suddenly felt very brave as you rose from your chair and leaned closer to him, "Well for one, I like you, and that couch."

Darius' eyes widened in shock before a smirk rested on his face, "Oh, do you now? Well, I can think of a few things we could do on the couch, if you'd like?"

You didn't say anything, just pulled him closer and pressed your lips to his, he immediately kissed back, groaning into your mouth, his hands resting on your waist.

You pulled back slightly and whispered a quiet "couch" before you lifted up and placed onto the plush seating, Darius pressing kisses onto your face and neck the entire time.

You made quick work of your buttoned shirt, practically ripping the fabric off of you and throwing it down, and Darius dove down to kiss and lick at the now exposed skin, you were becoming a moaning mess beneath him as he trailed lower and lower to the edge of your trousers, when suddenly the door to his office swung open.

"Holy Titan!", Hunter had walked in.

"Oh sweet Titan!" You yelled and wrapped your arms around yourself.

Darius had quickly summoned a wall of abomination matter and slammed the door shut, "Hunter! Get out!"

The two sat in silence for a moment before Darius rubbed a hand down his face, "Fuck, well, I guess were done that for the moment, now I've got to deal with my son."

He stood up and handed you your shirt, with you put on just as fast as you took it off, "lets try not to get interrupted next time, yeah?" You couldn't tell if you were joking or not, but the smile Darius gave you all but confirmed that your little couch session was far from over.

You watched him walk out of the office and look down at Hunter before he shut the door and you were left alone.

"Fuck", you whispered, "I'm in love with him."

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

🎄 Do they have a favorite holiday? Why or why not? Alex: Yes I do, It's Christmas. I grew up in a household where Christmas was always celebrated big, with lots of delicious food, cozy decorations, and lots of family stopping by for comfy hangouts and we were all just huddling together in front of the fireplace and Christmas tree, laughing and smiling. Christmas always warms my heart, and I always try to celebrate it with the people I love.

🎂 When is their birthday? What is their zodiac sign and do they associate themselves with it? Also, ideally, how would they spend their birthday? Andy: My birthday is 3rd of January, and I'm horny as fuck! *chuckles hoarsely and smirks* Capricorn. Well... ideally... hm *shrugs*... ideally as long as I get laid... a lot, I'm good *chuckles cheekily*

💪🏾 What accomplishment are they most proud of? Dalton: I'd definitely say becoming a full-time, professional musician. It's been years of hard work, stress, lousy gigs and just terrible sleep in fleabag motel rooms *chuckles cheekily* but, well you know, it's been worth it.

👶🏽 What’s their best childhood memory? Jacob: *Rubs hands uncomfortably* I'm not sure I'm the most qualified when it comes to good childhood memories? *Forces a pained smile* Uh.... *his smile turning more sincere, though small* ... there was this time, I think we were about 7 or 8, Rill woke me up with breakfast in bed. Mom had actually for once stocked the fridge, and he had made me this huge bowl of cereal with Nutella, whipped cream and strawberries, it was quite delicious, and we cuddled up eating it together while watching cartoons.

🏞 What has been their favorite family vacation? Danny: When I was 10 my mom, dad, my aunt, my sisters and my nephew went to this small town somewhere in US, I really can't remember what it was called, but it was so cozy, everyone was super nice. We were camped by a lake, and every morning we ate pancakes with Maple syrup... for some reason, that's the part I remember the most *chuckles soft*.

😤 What’s their pet peeve(s)? Evan: *Contemplates* ... not a lot of things get on my nerves, I think I have a pretty high tolerance and patience in general... however people spitting their gum everywhere for others to step in, is rather annoying and can really get my blood pumping on a hot summers day! Have you ever dragged sticky gum all over your car interior and had to clean it?

🛌 Do they sleep with their sheets tucked in or out? Daniel: *Chuckles amused* I'm lucky if I even have sheets on in the first place!

🧸What makes them feel supported? Sam: When people listen to and respect my needs. That has to be the most basic way to support me. I don't need much else. Of course a hug and a pad on the back once in a while, goes a long way too *soft smile*

[mattved]

On prague and food

Places to eat in Prague, curated by a local. All of them located in a neatly small radius and all great for taking a break from all the czech restaurants wannabe that only look to capitalize on tourists.

I am not a food blogger. And don't aim at becoming one, even though there is an incentive to commence composing a cookbook. I actually promised a friend of mine that I would post a weekly recipe for him this year but as you may check on my BigOven profile, it did not really follow suit. Yet. What is important, though, is the place I made this promise. Whenever he comes over to Prague from his new home city, that is Glesga, it is my task to find the right place for a catch-up early dinner. It is difficult to find decent restaurant in the Czech metropolis. You mostly encounter the tourist-targeting convention of overpriced meaty dishes infused with salt, our national habit of using pre-made components, or a combination of thereof. The surprise is how many of them are in proximity of a district 2 square, only popular among locals, end even that is limited to the period of Christmas market craze.

Let us check what awaits you at and around Náměstí Míru, then!

When you are looking for Italian, Czech Republic does not have much to offer in terms of authenticity. The Peace Square, as you may translate its name, there are two places that closely adhere to it.

Classic Italian: Grosseto

The more budget-friendly of them, and the only one that serves pizza, is Grosseto. A restaurant so respected that it had become a network with four diners, an Italian imports shop, and its own culinary academy, with both hobbyist and professional classes. Although this particular place is not the one where it all started, you get to experience identical range of Italian classics made to specification set by one of their three star chefs, specialists in their own branch of the cuisine: regional classics, gourmet specials, and pizza. After the standard procedure of table assignment, you sit down in a compact, yet airy, interior, get to observe the passion-driven pizza chef throw dough back and forth, receive international-standard service from the front of house staff, and don't usually have to wait too long before your meal arrives. And that is in spite of all meals, including the specials, being made to order with no shortcuts. The overall experience is pleasant and definitely worth every penny.

Coastal Italian: Aromi

The posh option that emphasises the Italian beyond pizza and pasta is Aromi, led by a chef with Michelin experience, Riccardo Lucque. At the price, you obviously get the level of service where a porter takes care of your coats, sits you down in a spacious interior decorated with original paintings, introuces himself by first name, and remains your server all the way through the experience. There is fresh fish and seafood on display, any item of which you can ask to be made for you in the original fashion or any other way you like. Well, the chefs will obviously give your personal waiter a long stare once he brings in a monkfish to be made into fish and chips. On top of this, there is obviously a short permanent menu, number of seasonal specials, and couple of ready-to-serve lunchtime dishes. Five course menu culminating with Italian small-batch roast coffee is therefore an option. Personally, I would not be able to justify the bill on regular occasion, but I do greatly appreciate what you get for the money. Anniversary, maybe?

Vietnamese: Pho Vietnam Tuan & Lan

This basement bistro is not too well known due the massive competition from their compatriots. See, the Vietnamese to Prague are like the Indians to London or the Moroccans to Paris. This place is however the only one that received endorsement from the nationally established advocates of high gastronomy, namely chef Zdeněk Pohlreich, and mentor Roman Vaněk. While the inconvenient interior and order-at-the-bar approach to service might be an issue to some, the main reason for your visit, food, is authentic and far outweighing the downsides. Starting with a ready made fresh shrimp roll or its fried counterpart stuffed with beef handed over immediately upon your arrival is highly recommended. The two signature dishes here include Phở Bò, an enormous bowl of broth with noodles, boiled beef, and chives, and Bún bò Nam Bộ, an alternative with lower amount of water and greater variety of veggies. Two undisputed upsides of this restaurant is lack of horrible cheap-plastic decorations so typical for Vietnamese restaurants everywhere, and its price level, which is with respect to the amount of food and culinary satisfaction the lowest on this list.

Burger: Dish

It's not like going out for a burger would be something you take an airplane to do, but in case all the new tastes overwhelm you and you just want something familiar, Dish is definitely the place to go. Everything is made to order from fresh ingredients, the patties seem to be made of pure beef and their menu composition just works. And their fries are wonderful. Inside the interior, where you better book table for both lunch and dinner, everything is quite crammed, but that only makes sense, given their popularity, for the sake of which they opened in a second location. Service takes more modern approach and I like to deal with them that way, especially since staying in for a chat after the meal is not something I would prefer, given the acoustic conditions.

Fast Food: Bageterie Boulevard

In case you are just passing and feel like grabbing a quick meal to keep you going through further Prague adventures, check out one of the two nearby outlets of the popular Czech franchise Bageterie Boulevard. The first one is just southeast of the square, while the other, smaller one, is to the west. They offer a wide range of ready made sub fillings with a choice of bread and a menu option that includes portion of baked potatoes and a fresh ice tea. In addition to that, they do a pair of quarterly specials, soup of the day, muffins, and biscuits. There is also a coffee of custom blend on offer, which I prefer avoiding. Nevertheless, the place is wonderful to call at for quick lunch in the house or a takeaway dinner. Since it is a franchise, your choice will taste the same, no matter the location, but you will not be served a stack of prefabricated components.

After you eat: Banyan Tearoom

When I make plans to go out with my friends, we never discuss where to go. Visit to the Banyan tearoom is implied. The routine starts off with a teapot of Touareg and continues with an optional shisha paired with a pick from the menu.

As a souvenir: Book Therapy

And in case you like to cook yourself, I do suggest Book Therapy, where they have a lot of hipster-targeted books including a nice range of regional cuisine cookbooks.

[fountainpenguin]

"It's not that difficult to get your head around; you'll never meet another me..." (x)

---

New Pixels Imperfect stuff today! || One-Shot

“There Are Many Benefits to Being Corporeal”

Read on AO3

---

I am back on my “LazyBeans26 and PiglinMyNose are the same person on NameMC” propaganda… Sniff and Pig have infected my brain, so here’s a silly sickfic about a tired camera boy and his weird new friend who's just contracted "experiencing the horrors of being sentient" disease.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

When Jimmy and Scar asked if they could take turns possessing his vessel, LazyBeans26 didn't even hesitate. "Sounds like fun! I'm in." Why not? He's always down for a good time and he's not a square.

They tracked him to his studio apartment, 4th floor of the Raisin Tower. It's the Sun Ray Tower; nobody ever calls it that. Yeah, he's earned it; he's been around New Star Station a long time. It's a tiny place, but that just feels right, y'know? Must be his slime hybrid genes. Something about small, square spaces just feels right. And it's really not bad for a guy who's lived his whole life alone. He's not a builder; he hates doing interiors. This spot works just fine for him, even though Jimmy and Scar are bumping into each other in the kitchen space and they're so close to the bed, Scar could jab it with his cane.

"Are you sure?" Jimmy asks, tilting his head. Lazy's in front of his mirror in the skin change room, two bobby pins in his teeth as he ties back his hair. He clamps the pins to one side with his tongue.

"What d'you mean? Of course I'm sure. I've been thinking of changing my name, actually… It's about time I haul my butt across the station and hit up Etho for that anyway. He'll be much happier if we make it a two-fer. He'll get all huffy if it's just the name."

"Oh, really?" That's Scar. "What- What are you changing your name to?"

"Pig. Pig something… I haven't figured out the rest. I'm just kind of tired of going by 'Lazy.' It's kind of run its course for me. And '26' never really clicked as a name." Hair pinned back, he rinses his hands and splashes at his face. "I'll settle it on the way over. Shall we go?"

"Gods, you're so cool," Scar breathes, staring back at him. His mouth quirks up in a smile at one end in a very GoodTimesWithScar sort of way. "I told Jimmy you'd say no."

"How long have you known me, Scar?"

Scar giggles, waving a dismissive hand. "L-let's not get into it… You're very cool, Pig. And handsome!"

"I appreciate that, yeah."

They give him the rundown on the way downstairs. Jimmy and Scar are looking to team up, taking turns with a single vessel, in a painful attempt to defeat the ender dragon and free the End before the chaotic duo of Grian and Joel. "And every time we die," Jimmy explains, looping his arm around Lazy's neck, "then Scar and I switch off who's in control."

"So are we all in my vessel at once?" he asks, pushing open the apartment door. They step onto the street together. The road's all bedrock, accented in a sidewalk of deepslate half-slabs as far as the eye can see. As always, Lazy glances down the left-hand street. The slime soul spawner sits in a place of honor in the town center, wrapped in the roots of an enormous dark oak tree. It's custom made, entirely decorative… but it's fun to admire nonetheless. Should I say hi to Mum? I should swing by and say hi to Mum.

"No, no… We're taking turns." Jimmy pats Lazy on the shoulder as though in reassurance. He's not the most reassuring fella that there's ever been, but Lazy lets him anyway. "The thing is, we log off every time we die. You're the only one who'll know everything that's happening for the both of us. You're collecting all the footage and as a third party, you'll be there to hold us responsible so we can't do any cheaty cheating. We're in a race, after all. We're Minecraft professionals. Does that all sound good?"

"You want to know what I think?" Lazy peels away from Jimmy and starts walking backwards, thrusting his hands in his hoodie pockets. He sticks his tongue at Scar. "I think Mr. Good Times With Fey here is hoping to wheedle out another password for his collection!"

"Oh, no, no, no," Scar protests, eyes like innocent emerald blobs. He lifts his cane, shaking both hands back and forth. "I don't take those anymore… I'm an honest man, Mr. Pig!" He bops Lazy on the head with his cane, then scampers down the road with a hum. He catches the copper rod of a lamppost with the cane hook and swings around, over and over, just waiting for Lazy and Jimmy to catch up. Lazy rolls his eyes.

"You're getting a substitute password if we do this. And you can keep it."

Scar makes a face, but doesn't protest. One-times do nothing for me, goes unsaid. His cane clicks and scrapes as he twirls around the pole again. Then Scar drops back to the road and pauses to massage his foot.

Grian and Joel, apparently, will be inviting someone new to the station to play this little game. Lazy asks about that as he and Jimmy wait for Scar. Jimmy shrugs. "Some endermite soul showed up near the fox spawner and got tangled in their soul-catcher. They never found his vessel, so Mama Fox let Etho bring him to the station."

Lazy lifts one eyebrow.

"All right," Jimmy amends, scratching behind his neck. He flashes a guilty smile. His canary-yellow wings, small and positioned low against his back, give the softest flutter. "He may have smuggled the guy out to bring him here, yeah. You know Mama Fox. She's gotta have one of everything in her collection…"

"I do believe I made her acquaintance once, yes. I wasn't gonna mention it, but I did wonder how he could've swayed an entire soul out of her if there wasn't a bit of deception involved. It's been a hot minute since we've had a new endermite hybrid running around, yeah? Good for him. Hey Scar, I'm gonna say hi to Mum real fast."

"That's fine! I'll be up in a minute. Just gotta rest my foot. My glitch did a weird jolt when I hopped down; oooh boy… I'm gonna be feeling that."

[Cnt'd on AO3 - Link at top]

[freudianslumber]

Today, Tomorrow and Forever

Summary:  Angel Elvis went through Hell when being falsely accused of betraying God.  Eventually found true love with LAPD narcotics officer B.B. King.

Chapter 6 Moody Blue

Pairing: B.B. King x Elvis Presley (m/m)

Word count:  2.6k

Warning:  description of medical issues due to previous injury

After grabbing a quick bite at a Carl’s Jr. on the way back, B.B. finally arrived at home with his new friend in tow.   Home was a modest single-story house in a quiet neighborhood in Arcadia.  The small front lawn looked like it needed more watering and the backyard was a little overgrown with weeds.  An old blue Dodge Charger parked in the driveway.  B.B. drove his Jeep into the garage before showing Elvis inside.  The interior of the house was neat enough but minimally furnished and decorated.  Other than the usual couch and TV, the most prominent feature of the living room was several electric guitars laying against the wall at a corner complete with amplifiers and a bunch of cables.  Next to these was a standup piano under the covers, looking like it had been less utilized.  “Are you a musician Gunnie?” Elvis inquired with interest.  On the verge of blushing, B.B. mumbled: “Just a hobby…Jimi and I used to be in a blues band and even played the occasional gig around town.  Now I only muck around once in a while at Moody Blue’s down the block.” “Gunnie?! That sounds real professional!!” The younger man’s excitement and enthusiasm could barely be contained.  “Can I go to see you perform?” B.B. couldn’t say no to Elvis’ begging puppy eyes and cute lips which were about to form a slight pout: “Uh I guess, but don’t set your expectations too high!”  

Elvis was very cheerful after that, he followed B.B. to the guest room after the basic layout of the house had been shown to him which included the master bedroom and a kitchen as well.  He noticed some framed nature photography on the walls.  “Is that Sequoia?” He pointed at one of them, curious.  “Close, that’s Kings Canyon National Park next to Sequoia.“ B.B. replied, “I took these photos last spring when I was hiking there.”  “Gunnie, you’re so artistic.” Elvis marveled, “Where did ya learn all this?”  B.B. shrugged, “Suppose I just had too much time on my hands.  I took a couple of photography courses at Community College. ”  Elvis had barely recovered from his amazement at all B.B.’s hidden talents when the latter reminded him it was time to wind down for the night.  B.B. found a small plastic bench to put inside the shower for Elvis to sit on, and cautioned him to stand up slowly when he was done.  Elvis nodded appreciatively, disappeared into the bathroom while B.B. waited by sitting on the twin size bed right outside.  He had to be on the lookout in case Elvis got into another accident.  Thankfully the shower was uneventful this time, Elvis brushed his teeth, changed into cotton underwear and a bathrobe before coming out to the bedroom.  B.B. already had all the wound care supplies laid out at bedside ready to be used.  Elvis opened his bathrobe for B.B. to clean the arrow wounds and redress them.  Then B.B. had Elvis lay down on his stomach, and rubbed a thin layer of lidocaine ointment on the countless overlapping whip scars and bruises on his back where he would have a hard time reaching.  The angel felt so relaxed and comfy he hummed a little: “Gunnie, you are so good to me…”  B.B. sighed, putting a heat pad on Elvis’ back, “Time for bed, Elvis.  Tomorrow we’ll go shoppin’.”  

The next day, Elvis woke up mid-morning.  The two of them finished breakfast and then B.B. made good on his promise to take Elvis shopping.  Of course, Elvis needed to be in some type of disguise to be in public so B.B. lent him a pair of dark wayfarer sunglasses and a black hat.  The combo worked exceptionally well as they spent the next few hours in a nearby mall without disruption.  B.B. ended up purchasing everything from briefs, tank-tops, shirts, pants to sweaters and jackets.  Elvis tried to stop B.B. from splurging on him, but B.B. had no qualms at all spending money this way, since everything looked so darn nice on the handsome young fellow.  So Elvis ended up getting casual shoes and sneakers that day as well, although he was still wearing a CAM boot per Tina’s instruction due to right ankle fracture.  Once home B.B. had Elvis change into the new navy blue turtle neck sweater and a pair of perfectly-fitted pants that showed off his long and graceful legs.  He was enjoying the view when the cell phone went off, he checked the screen, it was Tina.

The X-rays done yesterday confirmed that Elvis’ lower right lung was punctured, it also revealed almost one quarter of the lung was filled with blood from the injury.  This caused Elvis to be easily out of breath and also quite anemic.  Tina told her brother over the phone that the usual treatment for this would be to drain the blood from the lungs by inserting a chest tube, a procedure which needed to be done in a hospital and Elvis would then need to be monitored as inpatient for several days before the chest tube could be removed.  A blood transfusion would also normally be beneficial, however since Elvis was not human, a transfusion reaction would be likely and unpredictable.  Stunned by this new information, B.B. hung up and related everything to Elvis, who took a minute to take it all in.  “No, I ain’t going to the hospital.” Elvis finally broke the silence, “Whatever will be will be.  Being found out, taken away and experimented on would be worse than death.” His eyes grew desperate, breathing more rapidly: “If I was to bleed out my last drop of blood into the lung, so be it.  Please Gunnie, let me stay!” B.B. could not help but pull Elvis into a hug: “Oh honey, don’t despair!  You’re safe with me, remember?  I’ll never force ya into anything you don’t wanna do. There’s gotta be another way, I’ll talk to Tina and see if there are other options.” 

When B.B. got Tina back on the phone, she said she had a feeling this was going to happen.  B.B turned on speakerphone so Elvis could hear as well.  Tina told them there was a chance Elvis’ hemothorax could heal slowly on its own and this was all they could hope for since there wasn’t a third option.  Meanwhile all that could be done was to take common sense precautions, have Elvis avoid any significant exertion or reinjury.  Any sudden deterioration of his condition would warrant emergency surgery.  Elvis thanked Tina for all her concern and the professional advice, he promised to be careful, and added if anything bad happened it would be nobody’s fault but his own.  Tina told B.B. to monitor Elvis for any major change and follow up in clinic in one week before ending the call.

To lighten up the mood, B.B. told Elvis he had a late-night performance scheduled that night at the Moody Blue Bar & Grill in the neighborhood and would bring Elvis to see it.  This did make the young man perk up, or maybe he was just determined not to show any sadness or worry from then on.  The two pretended the phone call never happened and got ready for their night of music.

When they arrived at the cozy restaurant/blues bar, B.B. introduced Elvis to restaurant owner Fats as E.P., a new friend he made on the hiking trail at Sequoia a few days ago.  “E.P.” accidentally broke his ankle slipping on ice so B.B. had to help him out.  This version of the story was partially true of course.  B.B. told Elvis Fats was a wonderful blues/jazz pianist and could sing too, they would often team up on B.B.’s set.  The angel in disguise nodded excitedly and sat down close to the small stage to watch them perform.  Being weekdays and quite late, there were only a handful of customers scattered around the bar and father away in the restaurant area.    

B.B. got off to a flying start with the standard “Everyday I Have the Blues”.  His voice was authentic and soulful, and his guitar licks and riffs on that black Gibson were just divine.  During the instrumental break, the fabulous duo traded brilliant runs with their respective instruments.  Elvis couldn’t believe how good they sounded together, he cheered and clapped loudly at the conclusion of the song, a bit disappointed however by the mere smattering of applause from others that joined him.

B.B. smiled widely at the enthusiastic response from the only customer who really mattered to him that night.  He then launched into the next number with extra gusto, made that guitar wail like there was no tomorrow.  Elvis got so wrapped up in the music he started to sing along with the next song, “Shake, Rattle and Roll”, an old record that Mama used to play in the house and that he was very familiar with as a child.  He tapped his fingers and toes to the rhythm, swayed his body back and forth, even had the urge to jump onto stage and dance if it wasn’t for his CAM boot.  So when Fats walked over and gave him the mic, Elvis did not think twice before singing the next verse loud and clear:

I went over the hill, way down underneath I went over the hill, way down underneath You make me roll my eyes And then you make me grit my teeth

The young man was pitch perfect, his tone was rich and vibrant, his voice perfectly complementary to the sound of the blues instruments.  Fats glanced over at B.B. in amazement, the latter responded with a shrug of his shoulders and briefly held his hands sideways and palms up.  The song ended after all three of them joined in the energetic chorus, singing in unison, and B.B. wrapped it up with a flurry of closing chords. 

Audience reception was marginally warmer this time, a couple of whistles could be heard from a table or two as the last notes died down.  Fats took the microphone and spoke into it: “Well, it looks like B.B. has brought us a special guest tonight.  Say hello to E.P.!  B.B. didn’t tell me how well you could sing!”  Elvis blushed as Fats pulled him up onto the stage, a little out of breath.  “Uh, I sang in a choir sometimes, but I’m not a professional, Mr. Fats.”  Elvis scratched the back of his head, staring down at the ground, shuffling his feet nervously.  “A choir?  That makes sense!  I knew you couldn’t be a total newbie at this.  Is it a church around here? Whereabouts?”  Elvis stumbled for a second and then managed to say: “Oh, it’s out of state.  I’m not from around here…” Fats smiled: “I see, E.P.  Don’t be shy, you sing that old time R&B real well.  Wanna sing another song for us tonight?”  B.B. chimed in: “Yeah E.P., sing us a song!”  Elvis glanced around, it was really getting late and even fewer people were hanging around in the establishment.  He felt better that it seemed like the only two paying attention to him right now were B.B. and Fats.  He worked up the courage to say: “I remember an old ballad I learned a few years ago called ‘Blue Moon’.  Can I borrow your piano for a minute, Mr. Fats?”  “Sure, son.  Give it a whirl!”

Elvis sat down at the piano, began playing a quiet and melancholic refrain.  Then his silky baritone rang out, sounding so plaintive and lonesome, as if it came from somewhere long ago and faraway:

Blue moon You saw me standing alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own Blue moon You know just what I was there for You heard me saying a prayer for Someone I really could care for

The second half of the song was interspersed with a haunting and heartbreaking falsetto, along with the repeated line “without a love of my own”.  As the music faded out, Elvis stayed sitting there in front of the piano for a moment, staring into space, lost in thoughts.  Scattered applause around the room brought him back from his musings.  B.B. thought he saw those yearning eyes again for a second when Elvis turned and caught his eyes briefly before standing up and thanking the audience.   Clapping loudly, Fats remarked: “Thanks E.P., that was beautiful and different.  Young man, you’ve got an old soul.  We hope to see your talent again around here sometime!” 

“Elvis!! I knew you’d be back!! I followed your career since back in the day!”  Suddenly a grey-haired lady grabbed Elvis by the arm as he tried to settle back down at his previous seat.  Elvis thought she might have walked over from the far end of the restaurant.  The elderly lady looked to be in her 70s, acted like she was astonished and overwhelmed from recognition.  She held out the other hand and touched Elvis lightly on the cheek, then burst into tears: “I knew it!  You are real!  You said you’d see us again!  You don’t have a sideburn and you wear a hat, but I know you’re Elvis!!”  She started laughing and then crying uncontrollably when a teenager came over and pulled her away: “Come on Granny let’s go, please don’t make a scene!”  He looked at Elvis apologetically: “Sorry sir, don’t mind Granny.  She’s got a touch of dementia.” 

On the way home after the Moody Blue gig Elvis was not as talkative as usual.  He did give B.B. and Fats high praise for their blues set, saying that it was the best live music he had heard in almost forever.  B.B. said he loved Elvis’ song as well and that he should sing more.  That was when the angel fell silent for a while, then finally told B.B. he wanted to know more about his past life.  He said he didn’t understand why he had to be in disguise and people seemed to act strangely when they recognized him. 

B.B. was glad Elvis spoke up because he was starting to get worried earlier not knowing what Elvis was contemplating in his mind.  He reassured his friend there was nothing to be ashamed of in his past life, in fact he had been a world-famous music icon.  Once home, B.B. found a few online bios and articles for the angel to read about his previous life on earth as King of Rock n’ Roll.  Unexpectedly, Elvis stopped reading and closed the webpages after only a short time.  B.B. was puzzled: “What is it? Are you upset about something?”  “Nothin’,” Elvis shook his head: “I just don’t like to read about all the mistakes and wrong decisions I’ve made in the past.  Maybe I didn’t deserve to be reborn as an angel in the first place…”  That was when B.B. turned Elvis to face him, he looked straight into those entrancing doe eyes: “Hey Elvis honey, don’t doubt yourself.  Yes, you made some mistakes and regrettable decisions in your life but who hasn’t?  That’s called being human.  Through your own talent and hard work, you went from being a poor southern kid to the top of the music world, and helped revolutionize the industry.  You loved your fans, supported your family and friends, and helped so many in need!  Look at how many singers and musicians followed your footsteps, and how many fans you still have around the world.  Above all you brought happiness to generations of people, I’d say that makes you deserve to be an angel!” “Wow,” Elvis took a small swallow and stuck out his tongue mischievously: “Gunnie you’re so good at motivational speech, you just might be the best counselor ever!” The two friends then burst out laughing together.