#The Paisley Lounge

[ericpoptone]

The Legend of the Clandestine Order of Illuminated Gentlepersons

Proof, if needed, that the internet isn’t all bad. Two months ago, on the LosAngeles subreddit, user suprunkn0wn asked, “What’s that one spot in L.A. that you missed where it used to be? The new Amoeba is cool, but the most typical L.A. shit is the fact it’s under apartments and that will always piss me off. I will always miss the OG location, miss seeing it on the corner.“ I’m not sure what’s…

[tmarshconnors]

My yearly Spotify insights.

[thehappywun]

And here's the Whitney's Playland set from Little Hill Lounge last night...one new song called "Scene" (name partially obscured from setlist) was new to me, but they played much of their new album.

Nice seeing Inna, George, and band again, last time was back in February.

A couple of sound gremlins were lurking around and they did seem to sully Sketch Of Dino but for the most part this was a blissful listen.

[ilovesbd]

[oldsidelinghill]

Oh i forgot about Tumblr! Hello!

Earlier this year I released an album with my friend Josh (of The Blasting Company) called "Those Wild Days". You might say the genre is "adult contemporary" with maybe a little bit of "dark lounge".

It's on Tidal and Spotify... and here on Bandcamp:

We also made a series of images to go along with the individual songs. The dolls were created by Erin Paisley, with sets & photography by Victoria Cloyes (and myself).

[oriley42]

Drabble Dogpile "Sick" prompt

"'M sick," Chase gave a demure little cough.

"No, you're not," Foreman diagnosed without looking up from the crisp folds of his shirt, which he continued to button (upward, entirely the wrong direction, in Chase's opinion.)

"I am."

"You're not."

"Come back to bed and make sure." Chase lounged seductively back on the pillows. His efforts were wasted, because the only thing Foreman was being seduced by was his collection of paisley ties.

"Either you're sick, in which case I don't want to get close and catch it, or you're not, in which case you can get your ass out of bed."

"Or...there's a third option. I've contracted something weird, not contagious, and very sexy."

At that, Foreman finally turned around and gifted Chase with about 10% of a smile. "I don't believe I'm familiar with that particular disease."

"It's brand new! And you know, people say if you discover something, you get to name it."

Foreman began to undo his freshly knotted double Windsor with a smirk. "Well, for the sake of my illustrious career...I'd better come back to bed."

@housemdanniversary

[wildlife4life]

Seven (+) Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the super lovely @prosperdemeter2 @gayedmundodiaz @lemonzestywrites @rainbow-nerdss @devirnis @cal-daisies-and-briars @buddierights @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @dangerpronebuddie @daffi-990 @tizniz @try-set-me-on-fire and @rogerzsteven Thank so much! Go check out all their snippets and works!

Well would ya'll look at that... I'm actually participating in a tag day with an actual wip and not a coda. Whoa. And even better... Its an NFL Buck snippet! WOOOOO! Want to see more NFL Buck? Please check it all out here!

"So." Karen begins, pulling Hen's attention from the book she's been trying to read for the past week. She quirks an eyebrow at her wife, "So?" "So my boss's son's, partner broke their leg Tuesday after tripping over their 15 year old terrier." Karen explains and Hen can't help but look back towards where Paisley is lounging on the arm chair (Hen's favorite seat that she has lost to that sassy fur ball) with worry. Her wife chuckles reading Hen's internal concern, "Babe, Paisley is as pure bred as they come. We'll be lucky if she makes it to 10." "That pure bred survived an earthquake and a collapsed building. I wouldn't put it past her to make it way past 10 out of spite alone.�� Hen remarks, turning back to Karen. Karen rolls her eyes, but gets back on topic, "Anyway. Harris, that's the partner, got their hands on some passes to that super exclusive gay club, The Green Carnation for this Friday." "You mean the place that runs a background check rivaling the FBI, makes every patron sign NDA's, and will blacklist a person from every gay bar from here to Vegas if they break said NDA? The place that is rumored to host not only out celebrities, but also the deeply closeted, tilt the world on it's axis if they ever came out, big names? That gay club?" Hen questions, her excitement starting to rise. Her very sexy and somehow very connected wife smirks, "The very one. And poor Harris just can't fathom trying to hop around on one leg and not drink thanks to their newly acquired pain meds. So they had their partner-" "Your boss's son." Hen remembers, leaning towards Karen, who instinctually gets closer as well. "Karson, with a K, starts to asks around his dads work because you know, we're literal rocket scientist working on very classified information." "Who better to invite to a secret club than those who work on secret projects." "Exactly." Karen's smirk becomes wicked (and very sinful), "And wouldn't you know, the only non-straight and married person around is yours truly." Hen honest to go squeals, loud and bubbling with elation, "You got us passes to The Green Carnation?!" "With a pre-paid drink package. All we have to do is agree to the background check and sign the NDA." Karen replies with a broad grin. Hen can no longer hold herself back and practically tackles her wife with a teeth clattering kiss. Karen, as always, catches her and kisses back 110%. ("So, my 48 off falls on the weekend." Eddie states and he takes notice of Buck's sly grin forming, his boyfriend most likely on the same train of thought, "And since it's still your bye week..." "You want to dance the night away with other secret gays." Evan finishes. Eddie smirks, "And get a private room blow job." The quarterback's smile is almost feral like, "I'll make the reservation." And Eddie watches Buck tap on the contact Florists with the green clover next to it. The phone rings twice before a deep voice comes through the speaker, "State your member id." "Buckley, 201-09-18." "Diaz, 201-09-19." A quick moment of silence, then, "What can The Green Carnation do for you today Mr. Buckley and Mr. Diaz?")

Hmm... Is a certain run in going to happen???? We'll see!!! Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @hippolotamus @theotherbuckley @watchyourbuck @perfectlysunny02 @aroeddiediaz @loserdiaz @diazsdimples @jesuisici33 @fortheloveofbuddie @evanbegins @buck-coded @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @sunshinediaz @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @goforkinard @bekkachaos @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @thebloomingheather @bigfootsmom

[rainbowbarnacle]

I was kind a late bloomer when it comes to liking clothes, but I've learned to love dolling up! And it took me forever.

I didn't want much to do with clothes at all growing up because I wasn't really allowed to go see what I liked, and so I just kind of lived in jeans and t-shirts because that's what was comfortable. When I did try and see what I liked, mom would pull out the excuses.

"You can't wear that top, it's not your color." (Note: she never told me what my colors ever were, just what they weren't.) "You can't wear those colors, you'll look like a clown." (OH NO NOT THAT) "You can't wear that tank, it shows your arm flab." (?!?!?!) "I know you like that dress but why would someone like you wear it? You don't go out." (I WANNA WEAR IT SITTING A LOUNGE CHAIR READING A BOOK, MOTHER.)

It wounded me. Just. Holy crap. She told me these things as though it was some obvious, awful rule that I just didn't get. To hear her talk, you'd think that everyone else was already aware of my fashion sins and whispering about them, and (worst of all!!) it embarrassed her so much.

The alternatives to my choices were sooo depressing too. Khaki capris. Piles of denim, especially these weirdly stretchy uncomfortable bell bottoms that always got soaked in rain puddles? Cardigans. Nothing joyful.

(This is not to say that bell bottoms and cardigans and capris can't have their uses, and I am not questioning or judging anybody who likes these things, it was just miserable being shoved into them like a doll because This is What People Wear According to Mom.)

I was taught I should HATE plaid and paisley and polka dots, and to this day I have to shove an instinctive feeling of shame away when I look at my closet, because guess what, it turns out I have a looot of paisley AND I LOOK NICE IN IT. 8)

And just. Oh man. If I could tell tiny!Aud about how I get to match (or contrast) different colors with the blue dye in my hair? Or how I have a closet full of long skirts and headscarves and pretty shirts? Or the joy of finding jewelry that POPS? I bet she would be so happy. I never imagined myself looking like me when I was little, I always imagined myself looking sort of like mom.

Anyway, the whole point of all this blathering is that it took me an absurdly long time to figure out that clothes were FUN because the only person who should be making those kinds of decisions about them is meee. Once I figured that out, it was like a whole new world opened up.

And that goes the same for you. Go wear that Thing you like with joy. Embrace your favorite colors and patterns. Wear a biker jacket, wear a mini skirt with those long socks you like, wear that one shirt that is Incredibly Gender. WEAR ALL THREE AT ONCE.

Wear what's YOU because it's YOU.

<3

[kelcemenow]

Out There.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1343

Warnings Strong language and mentions of smoking weed.

I got a request from my Queen! Thank you for sending this in @killatravtramp and I really hope you like it! "Hi! I have a request for you! Would you be willing to write a fic where Travis meets the reader’s family for the first time, and she’s embarrassed because they’re kind of weird and out there? Thank you so much!!"

"Wait, wait, wait." You held your hand out and placed it on Travis' thigh, stopping hi from opening the car door, "Just...before we go in. I just want to remind you of what I said."

Travis rolled his eyes and smiled at you.

"No, I'm being serious. My family are...out there."

"I know, you've already said."

You closed your eyes and held Travis' hand tight, "Yeah but, they're really out there."

Travis breathed a laugh, "It's all going to be fine! Y/N, I love you and all of the strange things that come with you."

You smiled and took a deep breath before stepping out of the car, staring up at the log-style cabin in front of you. Your eyes flickered over the vast vegetable patches that ran along the left side of the structure and the tall piles of logs to your right. Chickens were dotted around the grassy area at the front of the cabin and large bulb string lights hung lazily around the porch. It was looking a lot more run down than your last visit, but you knew you parents wouldn't have noticed.

Travis stretched his arms over his head, "Wow, this is something!"

You sucked at your teeth, "Yep."

He looked at you with a smile, "Will you relax? I'm an open-minded guy. And hey, one night here...I might end up changing my lifestyle."

"Don't you dare." You glared at your boyfriend as you grabbed your overnight bag from the back of the car.

Twigs and leaves crunched beneath your feet until you arrived at the bottom of the wooden steps up to the front door. You could hear faint music coming from the house that grew louder in volume the closer you got. You turned to face Travis and quickly raised your eyebrows as you opened the door, stepping into the bright and cluttered cabin.

Travis followed you as you tried to locate the source of the music, assuming it must be where your parents were. You breathed in the familiar smell of patchouli and noticed the large new handmade tapestry hanging proudly on the wall. You turned a corner and found yourself in the lounge, a small and cosy space filled with luscious green plants and woven blankets. Wind chimes hung in the windows and clanged in the gentle breeze.

"I think the music is coming from outside?" Travis said and he pointed his thumb towards the back porch.

You peered out towards the windows, slowly making your way to the open door that was lined with strings of multicoloured wooden beads. Sure enough, you spotted your Father in an open white linen shirt and matching trousers playing the harp for your Mother who was clad in a tie-dye tank and billowy paisley pants, her eyes closed and body squatted down into the malasana yoga pose.

You cleared your throat and your Dad's face grew into a bright smile as your Mother rose from her position and ran over to you.

"Hi Mom!"

"Oh, my baby!" She grabbed at your face and covered your cheeks with kisses. "It's so good to see you."

Your Dad carefully placed the harp against the railing and walked calmly towards you, holding out his hands to yours. "My girl!" He looked over to Travis, "And her man."

Travis lowered his head and held out his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Your Dad snorted a laugh and waved Travis' hand away, "Hey, you can call me Dad." Pulling him into a hug.

"No Dad, that's weird."

Your Mom let go of your face and began picking at the air around you, "Oh darling, your aura is so polluted. This is what happens when you live in the city."

You rolled your eyes, "Why don't we sit down for some tea?"

"That's a wonderful idea! Come, let us show you what we've done."

You followed your Mom, with Travis and your Dad closely behind you, meandering through the rooms until you reached the dining room. Your eyebrows lowered when you looked to see that the dining table and chairs had disappeared. Instead, small cushions and mat were in their place. You watched as your Dad moved to one of the cushions and sat cross-legged, looking up at you with an excited expression.

"You...don't like sitting at a table anymore?" You asked slowly.

"Mmmm, we just think that this way we are closer to the earth, and besides, all of that furniture just made the room look really cramped."

You nodded, "Cool, shall I get the tea started?"

"Oh, your Mom and I traded some eggs for a handful of organic rose and chamomile tea from the neighbours."

"You don't have neighbours Dad, you have people who live in a trailer in the woods half a mile away." You said as you headed to the kitchen, Travis quickly following you.

As soon as you were out of sight, you rested your head against the kitchen cabinet, closing your eyes and breathing deeply.

"It's not that bad, baby."

You laughed as you opened the cabinet door and pulled out the wooden bowl full of teabags, "You won't be saying that in moment when you try to catch up with your emails or check your Instagram notifications."

Travis raised an eyebrow and wrapped his arms around your waist, "Baby, I think some time away from technology will be good for us, you know, reconnect with nature and really find ourselves."

You turned in his arms to face him, "Oh my God, they've gotten to you already. Did they brainwash you when I wasn't looking?"

"Oh, ha ha."

"I'm sorry, it's just most boyfriends have been freaked out by my parents and...how they are. And then it seems they disappear very quickly afterwards." You shook your head a little.

"Hey, I'm not just anyone, okay? I love you, which means I love your family and whatever comes with it."

He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead and you smiled, returning to the wood-fired stove to boil some water. Travis helped you by grabbing some enamel mugs that you assumed your Mom had painted the flowers on. Once the kettle had boiled, you carefully poured the hot water into the cups, with Travis placing a teabag in each one.

You both carried them into the dining room, settling down on a cushion each and handing out the tea around the circle.

"So Travis, what is it you do?" Your Dad asked.

"Uh, I'm a professional football player in the NFL, sir....sorry, Dad."

You leaned towards Travis, "You don't have to call him that."

"That sounds like it's awfully violent?" Your Mom said after blowing at the steam coming from her tea.

"It can be, I do come away with bumps and bruises occasionally."

You shuffled yourself closer to Travis, placing a hand on his arm, "He's very good, Dad. He's one of the best tight ends in the league."

Your Dad pressed his lips together, "I see, well that's very good Travis."

"A tight end with a good tight end, right Y/N?" You Mom giggled.

"Mom! Oh my God!"

Travis almost spat out his tea and you looked at your Father, who was currently doubled over laughing and clutching at his stomach.

"It's not funny!"

Your Mom uncrossed her legs and sat up on her ankles, "Oh, lighten up Y/N."

Your Dad leaned over to your Mom and whispered loud enough for you to hear, "I think she needs to get on our level, if you know what I mean?"

Your Mom nodded as you switched your gaze between her, your Dad and Travis, "What?"

"You want some smoke?" Your Dad held his hand out with a perfectly rolled joint in his palm.

Your eyes widened and you could hear Travis chuckle next to you, "What is happening here?"

"Oh your Dad and I have started growing our own, it's become one of our better ideas."

Travis let out a loud laugh, "Oh, shit, man. I think I'm beginning to like it here!"

______________________________________________________________

I really enjoyed this request! And I hope you enjoy it because I did no work today! Instead I just looked at reference photos for how I imagined the house to look...and honestly, I want to live there! I've got more requests coming up, just give me a shout if you want to be added to the Taglist!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989 @ajbird18

[rocknrollbabydollblog]

★☆THE ESSENTIAL ROCK N ROLL STYLE GUIDE (PART 1)★☆

Second-hand, thrift and vintage stores are your best friend - especially the aisle that no one can find and the corners that no one is bothered to rummage. First priority is to choose a rock muse style icon. Pattie Boyd’s cut-crease makeup, perfect pout and psychedelic mini skirts, Marianne Faithfull’s thick bangs and love for velvet and snake-skin, Pamela Des Barres’ wild locks and clown makeup, Anita Pallenberg’s chunky belts, hot pants and huge sun hats, Bebe Buell’s 70s cover girl waves and backless halters, Linda Keith’s fur hats, Ginger Gilmour’s golden ringlets and lace bell-bottom sleeve tops, Mary Austin’s skinny scarves and bohemian prints, May Pang’s octagonal sunglasses and straight jet black hair, Linda McCartney’s classy midi skirts, Lori Maddox and Sable Starr’s spandex shorts, wedgie platforms and crazy hair, Charlotte Martin’s baggier effortless Parisian style, Alice Ormsby Gore’s bohemian layering and flowy midi skirts, Jenny Boyd’s medieval-esque dresses and peasant-style, Iggy Rose’s eye crystals and makeup, and of course Miss Priscilla Presley’s perfect feline Egyptian cat-eye, black hair and ivory complexion. Groupie rock muse style ranges from where you’re going to who you’re seeing. If you’re offering your boyfriend arm candy at his Album Launch, you’re not going to be wearing the same pair of hot pants and lace-up boots that you did at his last concert. And if you’re lounging around in the studio at 12am, you’re not going to be wearing that glam paisley dress you wore backstage on tour. Groupie style is all about knowing what to wear and where to wear it. Gigs and concerts will call for a more flamboyant, and ‘out-there’ look. Style staples for concerts and gigs include hot pants, knee-high boots, snake-skin, fur coats and of course afghan coats, chunky jewelry, face gems and body glitter, halter tops and mini skirts and dresses. This is very similar to festival style if your rockstar boyfriend is playing there - however, more flowy and bohemian styles are more welcome and especially face gems and body glitter. Sun hats, lace-up gladiator boots and sandals, and peasant maxi dresses and blouses. 

Stay tuned for part 2 where I will be discussing style staples for album launches and recording sessions.

[bunbeeplays]

Today's episode of The Lemon Legacy is Lemon-less!

Trent has taken the last day of spring break to tour Foxbury Institute with Paisley, and the recruitment team must have heard two Espositos are touring campus and pull out all the stops! Look at those fireworks!

Paisley: Sheesh, kinda overkill. There's not even any games going on today.

Trent: You're not really used to being an Esposito yet, huh? We're kinda famous.

Paisley: We're no better than anyone else here.

Trent: Try telling Dad that.

Their tour has gone great so far! The professors they've met seem amazing, and the campus is impressive.

Trent and Paisley have decided Foxbury's the place for them! These unconventional besties are ready to take over campus, but they still need to check out Larry's Lagoon.

Paisley: We can commute together! And I know you're going to make a lot of friends and also date a lot of boys but maybe we could have lunch sometimes and-

Trent: Paisley, calm yourself. You're not a regular stepmom, you're a cool stepmom. We can definitely get lunch.

Paisley: Now I can use schoolwork as an excuse not to go to those boring business dinners with your dad. His collegues act like I can't count to 7 without using both hands, now he'll have to tell them I'm in school to be a surgeon!

That'll show 'em! Trent hates those snobs too.

Trent: Good for you, Pais. I'm just excited I'll know someone on campus.

Most of Trent's friends are taking a gap year or getting right to work, so having a familiar face on campus will be nice. Explaining to people this 20-something is his dad's wife might be awkward, though.

Paisley drags Trent into the student union and immediately challenges him to some ping pong. Trent's played at a bunch of parties, so he figures he'll have the advantage over Paisley.

He does get her out the first round, but Paisley gets him right back next time around!

Looks like Trent had beginner's luck. Paisley smokes him two more times.

Paisley: Ha! You need work, kid!

Trent: Kid? You're like 5 years older than me!

Paisley: Respect your elders!

Trent: Good game. Where'd you learn to pong like that?

Paisley: The break room at the Stargazer Lounge had a ping pong table. It was a good way to blow off steam when rich plumholes would yell at you for their juice not being "juicy" enough. I'll give you some tips!

Paisley's got all kinds of stories from her time working as a cocktail waitress at the Stargazer. As they kick the soccer ball around, she tells Trent that she was going to try out for Foxbury's soccer team to get a full ride when she was 18.

Trent: Why didn't you?

Paisley: My boss scheduled me for a shift the night of tryouts. He said he'd fire me if I called out, and I couldn't risk losing my job if the scholarship wasn't a sure thing…

Sounds like she had it rough before marrying his dad. Trent's never had to worry about money.

Time for a coffee break! Look at these two, already getting into the swing of campus life.

Trent musters up the courage to tell Paisley something he's wanted to tell her for a while.

Trent: Look, when you and Dad first got married, I was a total plumhole to you. I shouldn't have been so mean. I'm sorry.

Paisley: Oh, Trent, thank you for saying that. You love your dad, and you didn't want anyone to take advantage of him and his money, but I promise, I do really care about your father. And I'd never try to replace your mom, but I care about you and the girls too.

Trent: I should have given you more of a chance… But for what it's worth, I'm glad I finally did. You're really cool, Pais.

Juan has his faults, but everything she loves about him, Paisley sees in Trent. He's grown into a fine young man, and she's proud he's accepted her.

Paisley: Well, I think you're pretty cool too. Oh, I meant to tell you, the guy who does my nails, his husband runs the LGBTQ Center on campus. He said he'd be more than happy to talk to you today, help you meet some people. That way you'll know people on campus other than me!

Trent: Look at you, Miss Queer Ally. I should get you one of those "I Love My Gay Stepson" shirts for Pride Month.

Paisley: I'd wear it all month long!

Trent: Well, your gay stepson loves you too.

Look how far these two have come! 🥹

That matcha tea went right through her, so while Paisley goes to the bathroom, Trent scrolls through Social Bunny when a call from his dad pops up. He doesn't usually call.

Trent: Hey Dad, what's-

All Trent hears is muffled talking. Must be a butt dial.

Before Trent hangs up, he hears the sound of a woman laughing. He doesn't really recognize the woman's voice, but he hears his dad laughing.

Weird. Dad isn't a fan of jokes. Or fun.

He's not… No. Juan Esposito is a lot of things, but an adulterer isn't one of those things.

When Paisley comes back, the two try out some of the cafeteria food. Not the greatest, but it's not like these two are slumming it in the dorms. They can pack better food from home.

Paisley goes on about how excited she is, but Trent keeps thinking about the butt dial.

His dad has plenty of female employees, he was probably just talking to one of them. He really likes Paisley now, and things seem to be better between her and Dad. His dad is a piece of work, but Trent knows he would never do that to Paisley.

…Right?

[dont-f-with-moogles]

Yoooo

Not sure how this goes but how about prompts #22 or #29 for levihan? Whichever inspires you more/first xD

Yoooo Koala Bear! Smut Scribbles 22: “Show me how much you need me.”

Now or Never (Part 1) (NSFW) Characters: Levi x Hange; Levi x Petra (mentioned: Mike, Nanaba, Oluo, Gunther, Eld) Word Count: 2178 words

New Year’s Eve. The city streets were swarming with visitors returning from the local shrine, heads bowed against the cold, night air. Beneath a black sky pin pricked with stars, apartment windows offered their own warm glow; a brief exhibition of the different lives within. 

And in his bedroom, Levi Ackerman was rudely awoken by a foot colliding with his face.

“Ah, fuck!” 

He sat upright, stifled by the stench of sweat and stale beer. It pressed in on him like a wall of heat. Gunther, who was lying upside down beside him, sprawled over onto his stomach and groaned into the mattress.

“Not sharing a bed with these guys again…” Levi decided ruefully, climbing out and standing on the carpeted floor. As soon as he had moved, Gunther swung over onto his back and stretched out his limbs like a starfish. Supposing that that was the end of the struggle, Levi stepped gingerly over Oluo and Eld who lay crumpled beneath a mismatch of covers. 

Bending down to unplug his phone, Levi tapped on the screen to see no missed notifications. He hadn’t been expecting a follow up response after Petra’s brief but sincere ‘Have a great night! Can’t wait to hear all about it! See you next year :)’  And yet, he could not help but feel a sense of something… lacking. It had been a recent revelation, their progression from acquaintances to dating. Petra was a junior at the organisation where Levi worked, and best friend to the three sleeping bodies which were currently slumped in various corners of his bedroom. Whilst she had taken a trip with her family to celebrate the new year, Levi had been coerced into putting up an assortment of work and university friends after a long night of drinking. That was the thanks he got for being the only adult responsible enough to rent an apartment within walking distance of a major station.

Levi shuffled out into his hallway, towards the long through room which encompassed a lounge, diner and kitchen. Here the shutters were partially-closed to the city’s luminescence, leaving a little light to dilute the darkness. At the end of the room, the countertop was covered with beer bottles, half-drunk cups and crusted plates. Levi’s sofa was swaddled in a brown, paisley blanket; Hange’s arm protruding from beneath. Nestled in the space between the sofa’s back and Levi’s bookshelves, Mike and Nanaba were sharing a single futon. She was pulled tightly to Mike’s chest, her pinkened face half-hidden in his shirt.

Awake now, despite his aching temple and bleary eyes, Levi looked towards his kitchen with grim determination. There was nothing else for it, especially since his entire array of bedclothes had been donated to his friends. 

At the sink, he carefully pulled the tap on, angling it so that the spray did not hit anything noisy or metallic. Yet, someone was stirring at the sound of water. Levi turned to see Hange disentangling themself from the blanket.

“Go back to sleep…” Levi approached, keeping his voice low so as not to awake anyone else. “I got woken up, so-” At this, he gestured towards the cluttered kitchen as though this provided a comfort which sleeping no longer could.

“What, did the mess give you a nightmare?” Hange was sitting up, rubbing beneath their glasses. “Can I help?”

“No…” Levi looked doubtfully at the washing up brush he was holding. “I’m just killing time.”

“Levi, it’s-” Hange pulled out their own phone from where it had slid beneath the sofa. “-four in the morning. You can’t wash up all night. Just sleep here.” To demonstrate, they pulled back the cover. Levi hesitated, regarding the space on the sofa beside them warily. 

Under other circumstances, sharing a sofa with a friend in order to catch up on some much needed sleep would not have been anything momentous. However, there was nothing normal about the circumstances between Levi and Hange. The pair of them shared a long, muddied history which began with Levi losing Hange’s number on the second day of university. Reuniting the following day had led to five years of friendship, only recently culminating in one heated episode. Three months had passed since that moment, and yet the memory of it was as fresh in Levi’s mind as though it had occurred yesterday. Unsurprising, given the amount of replays he had devoted to it. However brief, however trivial their encounter had seemed at the time, it was made worse by the fact that neither had spoken a word about it since. 

Hange was beginning to rise from the sofa cushion, forcing Levi to put out his hands. Both whispered at once, each insisting that the other take the couch.

“Come on, let’s just sleep here,” Hange sighed finally. “It won’t be weird…” 

Levi suffered a swooping sensation, like the sudden shock of missing a stair. It was the first time they had come close to acknowledging those reckless actions which had accidentally dented the Platonic exterior of their relationship.

“...we need to sleep. I’ll face away from you so you don’t get blasted by my bad breath!”

Levi looked hopelessly over at the washing up. His mouth felt parched and a steady pulse was throbbing behind his eyes. With a curt nod, he quickly lay down and dragged the blanket over him, as though the speed of the action would make it less controversial. The couch creaked in protest as Hange rolled over. Their body was squeezed as close to the sofa’s back as possible, affording Levi room to lie behind them. 

Resting his head on the very edge of their shared pillow, Levi waited. It struck him all at once; he would never be able to sleep like this. His mind was alight like a livewire; his skin prickled. Readying himself, he half-expected Hange to speak again or turn to him without warning. Levi pressed his hands between his knees, his rigid body angled away from them. He had never felt so awake in his life. Only now it was too late to change his mind. What reason could he give for getting up? Levi could not afford to have Hange realise the extent of his awkwardness for fear it would further fracture their friendship.

Where he lay, Levi could not help but catch faint strains of coconut from Hange’s hair. It was that dry shampoo they stuffed it with whenever they resorted to survival mode; something sickly sweet but oddly comforting and familiar. Levi drew each shallow breath through clenched teeth. Beside him, Hange's chest rose and fell rhythmically whilst the air in his own lungs scorched him. It was too hot; too confined beneath this single blanket with the scent and the heat of them enveloping him. He kept his hands pressed in tightly, as though to accidentally brush against them would burn his skin. Agonising, unending torture. It pained Levi to recall how often he had swept an arm over his own cool, unwrinkled sheets, lamenting the shape of their absence; longing to have Hange lying this close to him. All those sleepless nights he wished for exactly this and now- No. Not here. He couldn’t give into those thoughts here. Those were fading memories, overwritten by the present. Now, there was Petra. 

Turning his thoughts firmly to Petra, Levi felt himself begin to relax. Meanwhile, Hange was breathing deeply, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. Fatigue lay heavily upon Levi’s body and, as his face sank into the crumpled pillow, his eyes closed. 

It was a low grunt which caused Levi to jerk awake. In the immense effort of casting off what felt like several hours of deep sleep, he tried to orientate himself. Coarse strands of hair were tickling his cheeks. He was curled on his side, pressed against something. The cotton of the pillow was gone. Levi inhaled the scent of coconut, his face nestled in the warmth of Hange’s neck. Horrified, he quickly withdrew to the very edge of the couch. The abruptness of his movements should have awoken them, and yet they lay perfectly still. Levi tensed. He could have sworn he heard a breathy chuckle and then… there was silence. For a moment, he envied them. Hange swept in and out of his life with all the passion and violence of a storm, arriving with a crash and leaving with nothing more than a whisper. What he wouldn’t give to live and love so freely…

Positioning himself with care, Levi’s head was perched at the end of the pillow; legs hung precariously over the edge of the sofa cushions. If exhaustion had not crept over him once more, inviting and unannounced, he would have given up any attempts at sleep. But Levi could no more contemplate braving the cold air outside the blanket more than he could stepping onto the cool, wooden floorboards. He gripped his hands under the pillow, and once again surrendered to rest.  

Beneath his palms, the heat of their cheeks burned. Levi was cupping Hange’s face in his hands as his lips pressed theirs. Each kiss was dizzying; addictive. As he leaned into them, he felt Hange respond with increased pressure as they savoured each brush of his lips. They sank backwards, causing the makeshift bed to groan under the weight of them both. Levi was drawn out between Hange’s legs, his tongue gliding across the back of their teeth. Beneath him, Hange gasped, open-mouthed as their back arched off the thin mattress. The press of their body sent hot whips of pleasure lashing through him. Levi’s eyes rolled back as they fluttered closed. If this is how good they felt on his cock whilst fully clothed… Levi’s hips pistoned forward against them. So fucking good. His teeth grazed and pulled at their lower lip. Breathlessly, he withdrew to gaze down into Petra’s flushed, smiling face.

This time Levi awoke groggily. The thick, oppressive layer of sleep coating his mind was even more difficult to shake off than before. Outlined by a slither of street light filtering through the shutters, Levi could make out the sofa’s back and Hange’s sleeping form in front of him. His body was moulded to theirs; arms aching as he clung to their waist. Their weight rested against him, back held flush to his chest. And, still worse, he was hard. Shamefully, unbearably hard. With a sigh, Hange shifted against him. As though on instinct Levi’s body responded, hips rolling into them, sending another wave of whitehot electricity coursing through him. His eyes closed in agony; mouth filled with saliva. Levi was lost in the heat of them; wanted nothing more than to keep up that same rhythm; relish that delicious, blistering friction as it intensified… Levi moaned into their neck, loud enough to drown out Hange’s quiet gasps.

“Shit-” The cold realisation of what he was doing suddenly dawned upon him. Levi struggled to sit up. With a fluid movement, Hange turned over and caught his wrist in their hand.

“Shh!” they hissed, “Mike and Nanaba.”

Levi froze, hardly daring to draw breath. “Shit. Shit.  I…”

Half-lowering himself, Levi’s limbs stiffened. His head barely grazed the pillow. Hange’s face was so close to his own that he could feel the heat lifting from their cheeks. Levi clutched the underside of the sofa arm to prevent himself from falling. 

“It’s okay,” Hange mouthed, hardly audible. “I’m not going to kiss you.”

“You’re not?”

“You sound disappointed, Levi.” He could hear quiet breath whistling down their nose. Up close their eyes appeared large and dark in the gloom. Desperately, Levi sought for a safe response amongst dozens of dangerous options, but came up empty-handed. He was seized with a need to clear his throat.

“Are you?” Hange added. 

Levi’s mouth was almost too dry to speak.

“Can’t-”

“What?” Their breath was on his mouth. Their familiarity, their smell, their warmth was clouding him; pulling him under. Less than an inch stood between them; it would be too easy to close the gap. Levi knew that if he shifted only slightly, Hange would melt into him. The thought alone was enough to harden him more. It took every fibre of his resolve to remain still.

But Hange didn’t move any closer.

“Levi, we can sleep here and never talk about this again.”

Levi could hardly speak, hardly breathe as they drew towards him.

“Or… you could show me how much you need me.”

One last, star-filled night. This night. The pair of them crowded close, noses almost touching beneath an old, threadbare blanket. Here, where they were hidden from other’s eyes. This would be his only chance. It was never to be repeated again. But, it was impossible; staggering in its enormity. Either he leaned in and claimed everything he had been longing for, for five long years. Or he remained where he was; refrained from crossing a boundary that would sully two relationships held so dear to him. The course of his future lay in his decision.

And decide he did.

Part 2: Now or Never (SFW)

[slippinmickeys]

Prompt: ballet slippers, chocolate pudding in a can, Wyoming

The house, when they walked in, was like nothing she’d ever seen before—striped wallpaper on the ceiling, paisley carpet on the floor, a circus worth of color on every surface. It was like a Carlton Varney fever dream; like a brothel with aspirations. Mulder actually paused in the doorway and leaned back out to double check the address number on the side of the house.

“Wow,” Scully said, daintily setting down her suitcase a few feet inside the door. She wanted to make a joke, but Mulder looked appalled.

“We can go home,” he said quickly. “We don’t have to stay.”

His tone was such that she suspected he might be on the verge of having a panic attack.

“I was promised a weekend away,” she said calmly, reaching past him to close the door. She took his own suitcase from his hand and set it down next to hers.

“Anyway,” she went on, “it’s just a place to…sleep.”

With that his attention returned to her and she thought she saw his cheek tic, threatening to smile. Giving him an arched eyebrow and a squeeze of the hand, she turned away from him to explore the flat, curiosity overtaking every other impulse.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “The reviews were great.”

Scully sauntered over to the corner where there was a small kitchenette; bright green cabinets, a hot pink coffee maker. She opened up a cupboard. The inside was lined with contact paper featuring a cornucopia of citrus, upon which sat a single can of chocolate pudding. Scully didn’t recognize the brand.

“Quaint and cozy?” she asked, turning back to him.

“Whimsical and fun,” he said sheepishly.

She had to resist the urge to laugh.

Mulder finally spurred himself into action, reaching up into the nearest lamp and giving it a few futile clicks. When it failed to produce light, he began hunting along the wall for a light switch. When he finally found one, he flicked it, and it was then that Scully’s gaze was pulled upward.

Hanging from the ceiling fan was a pair of soft pink ballet slippers, tied to the blades by their satin ribbons. As the fan began to move, roused into motion by Mulder flipping the switch, the slippers began to turn, toes out, spinning gracefully in a perpetual arabesque.

Scully smiled. “Cute.”

“I’m afraid one’s going to come flying off and kick me in the face,” Mulder said, eyes still dubiously skyward. “And I already feel weirdly beat up.”

Scully ignored him and casually continued her tour of the flat, passing by a rather tame painted landscape of rocky mountainous outcrops, the script underneath reading Jackson Hole, Wyoming. However, as she continued to walk past it, the picture gradually changed in a holographic effect, revealing, when she got to the other side of it, a painting of a woman lounging provocatively spread eagled, her fleshy breasts exactly mirroring the Tetons of the landscape. Scully paused to squint at the cursive label, which now read simply Wyoming Jackson’s Hole.

She couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“What?” Mulder called from across the room.

“You’re going to like the art,” she told him, approaching the only other doorway in the place, which had to lead to the small apartment’s en suite.

She pulled up short. The bedroom was just as outlandishly decorated as the rest of the flat, but the room’s main draw was an absolutely palatial four poster bed, curtained on all sides by bright red velvet with fringe, pulled back just enough to reveal a monolith of a mirror tucked into the canopy.

Mulder came up to stand beside her, huffing out a long whistle.

“This in the reviews?” she asked him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“The term ‘whimsical’ was doing a lot of heavy lifting,” he said. “But no one mentioned the bed was a mirrored grotto.”

Scully felt for him—he’d been excitedly planning this for weeks. He’d promised to take her out of town for a quiet romantic getaway. She would not let him sink into a funk over something as trivial as heinous decor. She ducked out from under his heavy arm and took him by the hand, pulling him into the room.

“Do a little heavy lifting yourself,” she said suggestively, “and we can field test the term ‘fun.’”

He finally cracked a smile and followed her into the room.

[sunkeeperxiv]

FFXIV Write 02 - Horizon

Timeframe/Spoilers: Stormblood, the journey to Kugane.

(780 words) It's a long voyage to the far east, and Daca'li has a habit of stepping out for some night air.

Daca’li suppressed a yawn as he hauled himself up the ladder separating the ship’s sleeping quarters from the lower decks. The soft soles of his lounge boots were thin enough that he could feel the woodgrain on the rungs, but they at least kept him quiet as he climbed. None of the pirates aboard the ship would have taken nicely to being woken in the middle of the night because one of their passengers felt like a late-night stroll.

He lifted the trapdoor at the top of the ladder, snaked through, and closed it again as quietly as he could, pointing an ear toward the figure sitting at one of the benches as he did. The quartermaster Paisley was awake late, a lantern beside her on the table as she fussed with papers, pen and abacus.

“Good evenin’,” he said, not wanting to startle her. The crew’s response to being startled would be to stab him first, and most likely second and third as well. Asking questions probably wouldn’t come into it at all.

She jerked her head up at his voice, her hands flying to her musket and her lantern, although for a mercy she didn’t draw the musket. She’d learned his voice at this point, he supposed. “Up and about again, Mister Liath?” she asked, lifting the lantern only a little, likely enough for her to see his silhouette.

“Aye, ‘Master Paisley,” he responded, looking just barely away from both her and the lantern. She’d admitted a week back that seeing his eyes shine in the darkness gave her the shivers. “Just need to see the stars for a spell.”

Paisley nodded and placed the lantern back on the table, turning it so the light shone on her papers. “If you’re goin’ to make a habit of this, you could consider takin’ a spot on the night watch. The crew would appreciate it. Ain’t many enjoy bein’ up all hours of the night.”

Daca’li considered it a moment. It was true enough that he didn’t much enjoy just waiting for the ship to arrive in Kugane. He spent most of his days studying Doman letters with Alphinaud and Alisae or sparring with Lyse, but day after day of the same had begun to drag. Doing something to help aboard the ship would be a change of pace. It might even be a relief.

“I’ll think about it,” he told her, although he’d already all but decided to do it. She nodded brusquely and returned to her paperwork as he made his way up the stairs to the main deck.

Even after weeks at sea, the sea breeze retained a uniquely refreshing quality. Despite the late hour, the wind was warm, and the ever-present ocean tang was sharp and soothing. He made his way over to the railing and leaned up against it, resting his chin on the wood. The moon was at half her light, and even with his keen eyes he could just barely make out the horizon, the line where the stars stopped and the water waves began.

He looked behind the boat and saw only water; ahead of them was likewise barren. They’d been sailing for two weeks now and had several weeks left before they’d arrive in Kugane. They hadn’t been moving slowly, either. Carvallain had informed him several days ago they were making very good time. The expanse of ocean they had to cross was simply vast.

A sort of clarity came over him, remembering that remark. He thought, for a moment, about all the ocean they had surely already crossed, and then about all the ocean they had yet to cross. The full length of Aldenard and Ilsabard put together. He spent so much time jumping from aetheryte to aetheryte, chasing crises, that Eorzea had shrunk into a collection of cities and towns and battles to fight. Now, though, standing on the deck, watching the same endless horizon that he’d been surrounded by for days…

A shiver crossed his skin despite the balmy breeze. There was so much of it. Once in his life the Shroud had been the biggest thing he could imagine. From the Shroud to Eorzea, and now this… his breath caught in his throat. The more he saw of the world the more it seemed to grow.

Daca’li adjusted his posture so that he was leaning more comfortably against the railing and settled in for a spell, watching the ocean waves. He resolved to ask Paisley later about taking some of those watch shifts, and the other members of the crew what they knew about Kugane and Doma. He’d just become a great deal more eager for their arrival.

[withinthebrain]

Get in the Car

Road trip Part 1:

The sun was just beginning to rise as the van rumbled onto the highway, marking the start of their 13-hour journey to the mountains.

James, with his hands firmly on the wheel of his Volkswagon van, began the early morning drive. Paisley sat in the front passenger seat, her hand on James's leg, her fingers tapping to the tune of the music. Dennis lounged in the backseat, sprawled out with his phone in hand.

“Ready for an adventure, Love?” James asked, glancing over at Paisley with a grin.

“Always,” she replied, giving her husband's leg a quick squeeze.

James smiled and changed the music to his road trip playlist. The first few hours passed with easy conversation, reminiscing about past shenanigans. As the miles passed, the landscape changed from flat plains to tree covered hills. The sky was a quiet blue dotted with perfect, fluffy clouds.

At one point, Paisley twisted in her seat to face Dennis, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You look bored back there. Want some company?”

Dennis raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Sure, why not?”

With a playful wink at James, Paisley unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed into the backseat, making a show of squeezing between the seats. She settled beside Dennis, her thigh brushing against his. James watched in the rearview mirror, his curiosity piqued.

“What are you up to, Paiisley?” he called over his shoulder, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Oh, just keeping Dennis entertained,” she replied innocently, though the glint in her eyes suggested otherwise.

Dennis placed his phone aside, his attention fully on Paisley now. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered something that made him laugh softly. James kept glancing in the mirror, torn between focusing on the road and the tantalizing scene unfolding behind him.

Paisley’s hand moved to Dennis’s thigh, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles. Dennis responded by sliding his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Their lips met in a heated kiss, and soon Dennis’s hands were exploring paisley's body. She moaned softly, her body arching into his touch as he cupped her breasts.

James shifted in his seat, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. The sight of them together was electrifying, making it difficult to concentrate. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain a semblance of control.

“Don’t get too carried away back there,” he warned, though his voice lacked conviction.

Paisley giggled, breaking the kiss to glance at James. “Jealous, are we?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, stealing another look in the mirror.

Paisley’s hand slipped into Dennis’s pants. James’s knuckles whitened on the wheel, his own cock hard.

Paisley rubbed her hand over Dennis's hard length, her eyes locked on James in the mirror. "Eyes on the road," she reminded him.

James took a deep breath before responding, "You are going to be in big trouble when I am not driving."

Paisley raised her shirt over her head, only her thin bra hiding her round breasts. She slid her pants down, and Dennis's eyes bulged as he noticed she was not wearing underwear.

Dennis reached around Paisley, unclasping her bra. He lowered his mouth to her breast and slid his hand between her legs.

Dennis trailed his tongue from Paisley's belly button down her stomach. His strong hand against the small of her back held her to his mouth, and she arched in pleasure at the flick of his tongue.

"Dennis," she breathed, her voice barely audible, "don't stop."

Dennis's lips curved into a wicked smile as he continued, his fingers moving with purpose. " You like that, huh?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Paisley nodded intently, her fingers twisting in his hair holding his mouth to her. Her hips lurched as Dennis rubbed his thumb over her nipple.

With a low chuckle, Dennis leaned in closer, his lips against her ear. "Just wait until we get to the cabin," he said, causing goosebumps to cover Paisley's skin.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[monsters-lurk-in-peatlands]

And do not fret, my darling Paisley is not left out of the festive cheer! I couldn't take a photo of them when they were clean, so this is the best I can do lol

[Image ID: a low-quality photo of a scrafty lounging on a chair much older than the lounge. Adorning the gecko is a large pair of waders constructed from a rubber-like material. It is to be noted the waders are caked in mud, but the scrafty appears clean]

Glad to see these two doing marvellously! Now then, how shall I spent the rest of my holiday?