#beige shade net

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 18 - post-war evening dresses

I feel like all the dresses I personally find beautiful are the ones that are not allowed to come back for another season. Unfortunately, this applies to a large part of Cora’s early wardrobe.

Interestingly, while I’m pretty sure she wears this champagne evening gown at least twice, I think she never wears it without the dark brown velvet robe. At least I don’t remember having seen the sleeves of the dress. The colors are a nice enough match, but nothing on either piece points to them having been made as a set. The dress is embroidered in crystal or glass beads, the coat apparently in pearls. But anyway, this dress is lovely!

More velvet, this time in plum over a pink silk base layer. Plus a little white lace trim. So far, so nice, although I don’t know why they made the sleeves of yet another fabric instead of working out something similar to the deep cowl collar. But fine, the beige works as a nice backdrop to a little flower embroidery.

Cora can’t keep off the velvet this season – time for some black. It’s fashionable black, not mourning black, so Cora can afford to pretty it up with netting on sleeves and shoulders, tassels on the sleeve hems, a big brooch in the front, and some gorgeous lace gloves that I desire with a vengeance. Despite this being a quite heavily decorated dress, I think the neckline would invite a discreet little necklace. Ah well.

*sigh* This red silk work is quite an iconic look, and one that stays into season 3. I’m gonna level with you: I think it outstays its welcome. I don’t like this one. Oh, it’s a fine dress in theory; the embroidery is lovely, the red shades coordinate well with the golden shoulder straps, I’m a fan of the fluttery sleeves. But the cut of this bodice isn’t doing Cora’s figure any favors. Is there any reason to make her waist look so disproportionately short without really hitting the Edwardian empire waistline?

Much better. This goes a lot more into 1920s styles with the drapey chiffon top, and I think the hip overlay (sash?) looks very pretty. It’s the only heavily embroidered piece, which seems unusual for the muted coloring of the dress, but it merges very nicely into the wide sleeve cutouts with the jewel trim.

Yay, black dresses with embroidery are keepers for season 3. Okay, this is not the worst of them; the gold thread with beads makes for a pretty cute look, but why does Cora wear a sleeveless dress for Christmas? Or is this a shirt? The skirt is greyer, so it might be separate.

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

There’s something with this season and brown dresses. It doesn’t always work in the wearer’s favor. I mean, I like this pleated wrap style, but the head scarf really washes out Rosamund’s beautiful ginger hair and the dress doesn’t give any other color pop either.

Hey, look, it’s a black dress with golden beading. You know what this means: It’s spectacular enough to stay into season 3! I’m getting very tired of this, but I can’t just bitch. The chiffon sleeves are cute, and there’s this style of little grape bundle earrings that pops up here and there across the show.

A black dress I find remotely interesting? Can only be here for one season. See, this one pulls off the empire waist Cora’s red silk dress didn’t want to commit to. And the top is basically just one big stretch of gold brocade (plus or minus some black chiffon for the sleeves). Damaged brocade, by the look of that second image. Is this an original? Is that why they couldn’t keep it around?

One of the subtler favorites of mine: The use of these black scallops is just delicious, how they open to diamond shapes on the arms (over barely visible chiffon that has exactly the color of Rosamund’s skin) and are held together with actual diamonds. I love it, it’s wonderful despite not having made a spectacle out of it.

These shots are not great, but this is rather a lovely dress, albeit one that is in Edwardian style and is thus beginning to look out of fashion. The skirt is some silverish blue velvet that pairs nicely with the paler-colored top, all crepe-work wrapped in a V over a simple light blue base layer. Also, behold the trim. It sparkles!

[powpowpunchout]

Just Checking!

Joe leaned against his sleek, maple-wood kitchen counter, fingers tapping along the edges as he scrolled through his phone. The coffee machine behind him sputtered every few seconds, while the wonderful, rich aroma of his dark chocolate coffee roast filled the air. The perfect drink to start his day.

He was quite certain he had already made a cup for himself earlier, but he had no idea where he put it, so he was making another.

As he waited in the kitchen, he tried to lean back and get comfortable. His black socks slid across the beige tiled floor, but they stopped when they hit one of the wheels of his butcher block.

He frowned.

That blasted butcher block.

If it didn’t pair so nicely with the rest of his kitchen—having a top the same color as his counters, and a lower half the same shade of ginger brown like his cabinets—he would’ve moved it elsewhere by now.

His kitchen was already cramped enough, and having this bulky block in the middle wasn’t helping in the slightest, but he liked it. It had some small shelves below that were able to hold a couple of his pots, pans, and even some of his smaller house plants.

Honestly, even if he did decide to remove the butcher block, his kitchen still wouldn’t have enough space for him to stretch his legs out.

Joe swears he’s seen apartments with bigger kitchens than his.

It didn’t even feel like a proper kitchen, more like a small portion of a hallway that had been boxed in with counters and cabinets.

On his left was his sink with a little window above it for him to place a few more plants by, and below that was his dishwasher. Pressed against his dishwasher was a lovely wooden spice rack that went up to his hips. There was a silver oven that was pushed against his back, white wall, along with a fridge about his height.

To his right was his pantry. Whoever designed this house didn’t give him a built in pantry, no, that would’ve given him extra space and storage, and that would have been too convenient, so he had to buy his own.

His pantry was taller than him by a good foot, and it was the same color as the rest of his cabinets in the kitchen. It’s doors were covered in thin, white netting that allowed him to take a peek at all the cooking supplies he had.

Parts of it’s exterior was chipped, and the carvings of leaves and flowers that aligned it’s bottom were faded, but they looked elegant nonetheless.

“It looks old.” Sandman’s voice rang through his head. That’s what he told Joe when he had first seen his pantry.

“It’s antique!” Joe had exclaimed

“That’s fancy people talk for ‘old’.” Sandman snickered, “It looks nice, though. Yeah.”

Speaking of Sandman…

Joe quickly scrolled through his contacts and clicked on Sandman’s name.

“Good morning! I will be going to a cafe today, do you want me to pick up anything for you?” Joe had texted his friend earlier this morning. He thought Sandman wouldn’t respond for a while, especially since he tends to oversleep, but to Joe’s surprise, he actually got a reply not even an hour later.

“maybe a cool leaf”

Joe chuckled as he reread the message.

“I’ll keep an eye out. Anything else?”

Sandman never responded back.

Joe could only assume he had dozed off. He did text Sandman quite late, didn’t he?

Joe quickly checked what time he had messaged--

His eyes snapped open.

‘5 in the morning?!’

Oh dear, he hopes he didn’t wake Sandman up with his first message.

Joe let out a yawn as he thought to himself.

5 AM…

That must’ve been the time he woke up.

And he didn’t fall asleep last night until… Gosh, Joe couldn’t even remember.

What he did remember was the fact he had spent most of his evening texting Disco Kid, and his body absolutely loathed him for it.

It didn’t matter how tired he was, though. He couldn’t risk going back to bed to try and squeeze in a few extra minutes of sleep. He had breakfast with the rest of the Minor Circuit this morning, and he’d hate to miss it.

The exhaustion was well worth it, however. The things Disco told him, all those juicy snippets of what he went through last night, the anticipation alone was enough of a payoff for Joe.

He clicked out of his texts from Sandman, and went to the texts he got from Disco Kid. He scrolled to the very top and started to reread them.

“joe”

“joe”

“jo”

“je im in the barwiht aran right??????”

“Yes?” Joe had sent back. He had been laying in bed reading a book when he received these.

“guess wh o shwoed up”

Joe didn’t even have the chance to respond before Disco sent his next text.

“octave!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Joe remembered how he shot out of his bed, accidentally sending his book flying across the room, and stared at his phone with wide eyes.

“What?” Was all Joe could text back.

“i know rihght??? I didnt k now he was comignaran said he wasnt”

Joe was completely glued to his screen. He was as captivated as he was frustrated.

“Keep me updated, please.” He had told Disco.

“was already plannign on it”

“Don’t take any of Aran or Octave’s mistreatment. Leave whenever you need to.” Joe pressed his lips together when he reread that message. That sounded like such a ‘parent’ thing to say, didn’t it? But Joe was genuinely worried.

It’s bad enough to be stuck in a bar with Aran, but for Octave to suddenly come in unannounced? Joe couldn’t even begin to imagine the sort of nightmare Disco went through.

Joe’s grip on his phone tightened.

What was with Overload and attending events he wasn’t invited to? What—was ruining the Major Circuit’s dinner not enough? He had to go for a second round? He had to bother Disco again, as if he doesn’t do that enough? Was it in his blood to make everyone in this stadium miserable? Or could he not stand the fact that everyone else could have fun with their friends except him?

Joe brought his coffee cup to his lips, ready to take a sip--

He stopped.

He looked at the white cup in his hands.

How long has he had this cup?

Has he been holding it this entire time?

He blinked.

Well, looks like he’ll be having two cups of coffee this morning. He probably needs it.

Joe took a sip and scrolled through his phone some more.

“he and aran are arugign now” Disco texted.

“Are they saying anything to you? They aren’t bothering you too much?”

“im good its just real akwwarrd”

Joe’s eyes flickered over to the top of his phone and checked the time. It was almost 9:30 AM, he has to meet his friends around 10:15. The cafe wasn’t too far from here, but still, he didn’t want to be late.

Joe glanced over to his coffee machine before he pushed himself off the counter, placed his cup down, and made his way out of the kitchen.

He kept his eyes on his phone as he entered a narrow hallway. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, he’ll probably end up running into a wall or hitting his hip, but he found himself too engaged with last night’s events to care.

He placed one hand on the white wall beside him and lightly dragged it across its cold surface. He felt the occasional small bump or two as his fingers carefully maneuvered around the framed photos and pressed plants he had hung on the walls, all while his other hand kept scrolling through his phone.

“think im gonna try and talk to octave” Disco’s next message read.

A small wince escaped Joe’s lips.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t think you should.”

“i know but”

Joe remembered waiting in anticipation for Disco to finish that sentence, to elaborate—even just a little—but he never did.

Joe’s fingers hovered over his keypad--

He hit a corner.

Joe quickly grabbed his hip and hissed to himself. He’s definitely going to get a bruise there, and he had no one but himself to blame.

Joe entered the room to his left, his bedroom.

He turned to his ivory-colored desk by the door. Also an antique piece of furniture he owned, with drawers that had novelty knobs attached to them, and once sharp edges that were now worn corners. Some of its paint had chipped off as well, but Joe thought that gave it all the more charm. Though he will admit, he’s been meaning to clean off the top for some time.

It was mostly covered in bills, fancy notepads that he’s only filled a couple pages of, fan letters, and in the very back corner of the table, small mason jars with water in them for his plant clippings.

He’ll clean it another time, though.

When he’s less tired.

He set his phone in the middle of the table, right next to his black glasses case, and then walked over to the tall, slender mirror that was propped against the corner of his room.

He struck a pose, straightening his posture and combing his fingers through his hair before putting a hand on his hip. He raised his chin ever so slightly and felt a wave of confidence push through his exhaustion.

His attire this morning was a bit different compared to what he’s been wearing these last couple of days. He’s noticed he’s been wearing much more black, white, and grays than he usually does, and while those certainly weren’t bad colors, it never hurts to change things up. So today, he decided to wear a much needed varied palette.

His shirt was covered in thin, white and pine-green stripes, and he had its ends tucked into his pants, which were a deep cadmium green. They almost looked black at a glance, but they weren’t. Joe thought such shades complimented his hair, but he wouldn’t be wearing just this, oh no.

He spun around and faced his neatly made bed. Right in front of it was a swivel oak chair for his desk, which had his coat draped atop of it.

He plucked the coat off and slipped it on.

It stopped just above his knees, it’s sleeves were a little too large for him, it was a bit on the thinner side—not that Joe minded, it was supposed to be a bit warmer today anyways—and it was a gentle hue of pink that reminded him of blush. Its color paired wonderfully with his top.

He fiddled with the coat’s collar, smoothed out any wrinkles he could see, and struck another pose.

He put both hands on his hips, bent a leg ever so slightly, and flashed a smile. It was stilted, crooked, and it was perfect. He couldn’t have asked for a better smile.

Now his eyes, on the other hand…

He definitely needed to do something about them. He had some very heavy bags.

Joe reached over to his desk and popped open the glasses case. He slid his small, round-framed sunglasses on, looked in the mirror again, and let out a satisfied sigh.

There. Now he’s set for the day.

Joe grabbed his phone and stared at the screen for a moment.

Slowly, he found himself starting to scroll through Disco’s texts again.

Texts he got when he was a blink away from sleep.

“well that went great”

“Is everything alright?” Joe had asked.

“got insulted”

“shouldve seen that coming. feel like an idiot”

Joe lowered his brows, a twinge of guilt shot through him. He wished he could’ve done more for Disco. He wished he could’ve been there to help. Who knows what Overload and Aran had said to himt.

“Don’t say that about yourself.” Joe texted him. Disco didn’t respond again for another several minutes.

The loud beeps of the coffee machine snapped Joe out of his thoughts.

He nearly forgot about that!

Joe hurried out of his room and back into the kitchen.

He swung open one of his cabinets and dug through his cups until he managed to get his hands on one of his travel mugs.

He quickly poured the coffee into the mug, hissing to himself whenever some splattered onto his hand, and put a lid on.

He rushed to the door, slipped his dark brown shoes on, and just before he put his phone in his pocket, he looked at the very last messages he and Disco exchanged.

“finally going home. tonight kinda sucked”

“I’m sorry. Please be careful.” Joe told him.

Disco never replied.

Joe could only hope he had gotten home safely.

He also hoped last night’s events didn’t drag Disco’s spirits down too much.

Joe closed his phone, slipped it away, and finally left his house.

~ ~ ~ ~

Tiger slept soundly in one of the many hammocks that hung from his ceiling.

The hammock rocked ever so slightly, making his slumber all the more relaxing, as did the rays of sunshine that filled his living room.

Tiger shifted around, trying to get comfortable. The fabric creaked as he moved, he felt his long hair get wrapped around one of his legs, and he nearly kicked his thin, orange blanket out of the hammock, but once he brought his knees to his bare chest, feeling the soft fabric of his dark gray, silk pants press against his skin, he let out a content sigh.

He then grabbed the purple pillow he was resting on and buried his face into it, not caring for how messy his mustache and beard would get. No, all he cared for was this moment of pure, blissful peace.

He let an arm hang outside the hammock. There was a subtle smell of cinnamon that filled the air, most likely coming from the spice rack in his kitchen. And the quietness of his house? It was splendid. How he wished this heavenly sleep could last forever--

A loud ‘THUD’ suddenly made Tiger shoot up.

He clutched at his chest and whipped his head over to his apricot-orange door.

He narrowed his eyes at the tall, thin, stained glass window right next to it and watched a silhouette rush by.

‘Who dared?’ Tiger thought to himself

Who dared to disturb him?

Who dared to ruin his slumber?

Was it a fan? Or one of those fancily dressed men who always loved to waste his time trying to sell him something? Or perhaps it was the mailman?

Tiger tipped his purple hammock over and leaned forward, the front half of his body spilling off the side and into another hammock below. This one a bit smaller, and a rich, royal blue with yellow swirls stitched across it.

As he landed into the hammock, the frustration within him started to boil.

It better not have been that blasted mailman.

How many times has he told them to stop leaving letters at his door? He has a mailbox for a reason.

Tiger leaned forward again, dropping from the blue hammock into a larger, looser, magenta one.

Had he slept in his bedroom, he simply would’ve gotten out of bed, walked over to the door, and see what was outside, but his bedroom was nowhere near as comfortable as the hammocks, nor did it look as fascinating.

Tiger has gotten plenty of comments about his living room before. Both friends and strangers who happened to get a glimpse inside his house always made a comment about how ‘strange’ it looked, and while he won’t deny it was certainly a bizarre sight for newcomers, he also couldn’t deny that he loved its layout so much.

Besides having typical ‘living room’ furniture—couches, a coffee table, a TV stand—all arranged in a typical living room fashion, the room also had an unusually high ceiling.

He had no idea what was going through the builders’ minds when they were working on this house. Perhaps it was supposed to be a chimney, or maybe it was some botched attempt at a second floor, or perhaps it was supposed to be some sort of tower… Tiger will never know. They made the width of the ceiling the same as the living room’s, while it’s length seemed to stretch on for a good several feet, making it the perfect place for Tiger to decorate and fly through.

It was also the main reason Tiger got this house at such a low price.

He believed he did quite an excellent job at covering those tall, barren, honeyed-orange walls with all sorts of things he loved. From colorful, patterned sheets that stretched from corner to corner, to ropes that criss-crossed over each other and had bells, beads, and ripped cloths tied to them, giving them that extra bit of ‘flare’, to the black-cherry wooden shelves that were tethered to the ceiling and carried some of his favorite items. Some of those items being his magic books, photographs of him and his friends, little trinkets that reminded him of his home country, and now, one of the paper rats he had made with Overload.

It was the best room in his entire house, and it was his favorite place to nap at.

Before he got the hammocks, he used to fall asleep while hovering in the air, and he had a tendency to… Drift around. Sometimes he’d bump into a wall, sometimes he’d wake up in a completely different room, and there were the very rare instances when he’d wake up and find himself outside.

The hammocks were a much nicer alternative, plus, whenever he’d wake up in them, he’d be greeted with the wonderful scenery of his living room.

A wonderful scenery he could’ve been enjoying right now had it not been for some heathen knocking at his door.

Tiger tipped over the magenta hammock and carefully extended a leg out. Once he felt his foot touch the silk carpet below—which was a much duller shade of magenta with a pinkish hue, and had intricate flower patterns embroidered into it—he hopped out and trudged over to the door.

He swung it open and looked around.

No one.

He then looked down and saw a rolled up newspaper. He sneered.

The mailman.

Of course.

Who else would have the gall to ruin his slumber?

Tiger grabbed that horrid paper and slammed the door.

He then tossed it onto his earthy-orange, camelback couch that was pressed against the back wall of the living room, which had a couple of pink and purple pillows sitting on it.

Tiger arched his back and stretched his arms high into the air, feeling the frustration drain away as rays of sun graced his skin.

He let out a yawn, satisfied, and relaxed his body.

He walked over to the couch, stepping over his brown slip-on shoes, some rolled up socks, a book that must’ve fallen from one of his hanging shelves, and his shirt from last night that he tossed out from his hammock.

He sat down and sunk into the cushions. His eyes slowly drifted to the right where his small, burnt umber end table was. To the left of the table, sitting diagonally from Tiger, was another camel-back couch, which had a pastel-blue blanket carelessly thrown on it. Atop the end table was a half drunken cup of black tea that sat on a little plate, and next to that was his light purple, metallic flip phone.

It was certainly a bit of a mess in here. He usually liked to clean up before he went to sleep, that way he wouldn’t have to worry about waking up to a mess, but he must’ve been too tired to do so last night.

Tiger rested his head against the cushion. He wasn’t fretting too much, he’ll simply poof all of this away as soon as his magic wakes up.

He looked back to the end table.

He grabbed his phone and flipped it open, eyebrows raising slightly when he saw he had a voicemail from Bear… And no messages from Hondo.

He lowered his brows.

He had texted Hondo yesterday, and the fact he hasn’t heard back from him yet did send a twinge of anger through Tiger.

It wasn’t like he texted Hondo at an absurdly late hour. No, he did it in the afternoon while he was making dinner.

And it wasn’t like Tiger’s message was rude, or threatening, or anything of the sort. It was formal and straight to the point.

‘Hondo, whenever you’re available, I’d like to talk with you.’

What—was Hondo still too upset with him over what happened at their dinner night to respond? Or was he too busy training to answer him? Tiger knew training was the closest thing Hondo had to a hobby, but would it kill him to send a single word back? Or did he think he was too good for that?

Tiger’s thumbs hovered over the keypad, tempted to send Hondo another message, but he closed the phone.

He’ll text Hondo again later. He was in no mood to ruin his day this early.

Tiger stared at the cover of his phone before his eyes lazily drifted to the nearby newspaper. He skimmed its title--

His eyes widened.

‘BALD BULL THREATENS FANS.’

Tiger shot out of his seat and shoved the paper into his face. He frantically read the article, picking up whatever bits of the story he could.

Someone tried to break into Bull’s house.

‘I just wanted a chance to interview him.’ The person claimed, ‘He wouldn’t come out, and we’ve been waiting for so long.’ Oh, Tiger could practically hear their whiny voice through the page.

Of course that’s what those deranged people love to tell journalists, of course they love to paint themselves as innocent, curious fans who just want to hear one word from their favorite boxer as if they were owed it.

And the words used to describe Bull? It made Tiger’s blood boil.

‘Cruel’, ‘Careless,’ ‘Irrational’, those were only a small handful of what Tiger could spot, and he was certain if he found anymore, he’d tear the paper into shreds.

Tiger threw the paper down and dialed Bull’s number.

Why didn’t Bull tell him about this?

Was he planning to?

When did this even happen?

Was Bull hurt?

As his phone rang, Tiger flicked his wrist in an attempt to summon whatever clean clothes he could.

He didn’t care how ‘tired’ his magic was, he needed to check on Bull now.

The phone rang again. Tiger’s worries worsened.

He let go of the phone and used a little bit of his magic to keep it in the air as he started putting on his shoes.

The phone kept ringing. Tiger flicked his wrist again, patience wearing thin.

He suddenly felt a shirt land on his shoulder, followed by his unraveled turban.

He hurriedly put the dark purple shirt on before putting his hair into a messy bun.

The phone kept ringing.

Tiger used his magic to wrap his turban around his head.

The phone finally clicked.

Tiger grabbed it and opened his mouth—but his face dropped when he heard Bull’s voicemail play instead.

“Bull—Bull, I’m sorry, but I have to come over. I saw what happened and—and I’ll be there in a minute!” Tiger snapped his phone shut, and it disappeared to who knows where.

His magic finished tying his turban.

It was sloppy, crooked, and he had several strands of hair poking out, but it was done.

Tiger’s gem flashed, and he teleported away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Joe took a sip of his coffee as he strolled through the neighborhood.

It was a perfect morning. The sun was shining, there was a pleasant breeze that carried the smell of dew-ridden grass and pollen, and there were plenty of people out and about.

Some were watering their gardens that were filled to the brim with bright, colorful, flowers, while some were setting up sprinklers for their lawn and for children to run through, while others were sitting on their porch and talking with their neighbors.

A smile spread on Joe’s face.

He found himself enjoying every little thing around him.

From the squirrels that ran along the tree branches, to the little nuts and berries sprinkled across the sidewalk, to the distant chatter of friends, there were plenty of small joys that made this morning all the better.

Joe went to take another sip of coffee--

When a sudden car horn made him jump.

He fumbled with his cup, catching it at the last second and holding onto it with his dear life.

Oh, he’s going to give that driver a piece of his mind--

“Joe! Is that you?!”

Joe whipped his head around, face immediately lighting up when he saw Disco Kid sitting in his fancy-looking yellow car with its roof down. He beamed and waved at Joe.

Joe hurried over, hand over the lid of his mug so it wouldn’t spill, “Good morning! Fancy running into you so soon, how are you?”

Disco rested his arm against the side of his car, the sleeves of his loose, white satin shirt had been rolled up to his elbows, “Not too shabby, you?”

“Oh, fine, fine.” Joe hummed, then he leaned closer to Disco, “Now I love you to bits, but you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Disco shrunk back, “Awh, shoot, sorry Joe. Just got excited. Hey--!” He perked back up, “Wanna ride?”

“Absolutely.” Joe went over to the passenger seat.

Disco fiddled with the radio while Joe got comfortable. He then watched Joe slip his coffee into the cup holder. He smirked.

“Dang Joe, we aren’t even at th’cafe yet and you already got yourself a cup of joe?” He slapped his knee and wheezed, as if that was the funniest thing he’s ever said.

Disco kept laughing, but when he glanced over and saw Joe’s tired, deadpanned expression, he immediately stopped.

He fixed his composure and cleared his throat.

“Anyways, so, uh…” Disco tapped his fingers along the wheel, trying to ignore the disappointed look Joe was giving him. He put his car into drive, “Cafe time!”

He hit the gas and off they went.

Cheesy 70’s music filled the awkward silence between them. Disco stayed quiet, lips pressed together and eyes staring straight ahead, clearly still embarrassed over that little joke of his. Joe on the other hand, despite how much that joke drove him crazy, couldn’t stay mad at him. In all honesty, hearing that joke actually brightened his mood.

Not because it was funny, but because that meant Disco was feeling happy enough to actually tell a joke despite what happened last night.

Joe looked at himself in the side view mirror and brushed his fingers through his hair. His eyes flickered over to Disco.

“Did you sleep well last night?” He asked.

Disco shrugged, “I guess. Got home kinda late, wasn’t feeling all that tired. Probably got like a couple hours at best, but it’s whatever.”

“You could always get some coffee at the cafe.” Joe suggested.

Disco gave a nod and tilted his head towards his friend, “Maybe, but I’m thinkin’ of trying something different. Don’t they make teas over there? Might try one of ‘em.” He slowly pressed on the brakes and they lingered at a stop sign for a moment. He drummed his fingers against his dark violet shorts and bobbed his head, enjoying whatever outdated tune was playing.

He started to drive again, “How bout you?”

“Oh, I hardly got any sleep.” Joe chuckled, “I am looking forward to seeing Kaiser and Hippo, though.”

Disco nodded, eyes glued to the road.

Joe’s happy expression started to falter.

His head drifted to the side, and he watched the neighborhood pass by. The road ahead wasn’t all that interesting, just a straight line with tall trees and streetlights on both sides, but the houses around it? The residents? The little stores and restaurants? Now those were quite pleasant to look at.

Joe took it all in. The people walking their dogs, groups of friends sitting outside small shops and chatting about their plans for the day, and the wonderful decor that surrounded the buildings. Colorful banners, strips of ribbon tied to the outside of windows, flags, pinwheels, and of course, Joe’s favorite, the plants.

From large, terracotta pots filled with vibrant flowers, to the hanging plants that were strung to awnings, even the ‘unintentional’ decor had a sort of beauty to him. The vines that crawled up walls, the dandelions that sprouted from pavement cracks, even the small bits of moss that clung onto the corners of buildings had a sort of charm to them.

Joe couldn’t fully enjoy this moment, however. Not when his mind was plagued with one thing.

“Speaking of friends…”

Joe noticed the corner of Disco’s mouth twitch.

“How did your night with Aran and Overload go?”

“Right, my ‘friends’. My besties.” Disco sung that last word on a cynical note.

“Alright, ‘friends’ is certainly a bit of a stretch. I just wanted to know how—I mean, I know last night went badly, but I wanted to make sure you’re doing alright and--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re good, Joe.” Disco cut him off, “Appreciate it, but uh--” His mouth lingered open as he kept his eyes on the road, “Yeah, no, it sucked.”

“Well, I can imagine!” Joe exclaimed, “You were stuck in a bar with Aran! Heavens knows that man hardly showers. I can only imagine what breathing in his fumes can do to you.” Joe slid his sunglasses down, trying to see if he had managed to lighten Disco’s mood up a little, but all Disco did was let out a dry chuckle.

“Yup, that’s Aran for you.”

Joe took off his glasses and held them close, “And Overload—I’m guessing he was the one insulting you?”

Disco gave a shrug, “Yeah, I mean, not like I wasn’t expectin’ it or something. I tried to talk to him and it went… Okay-ish, but ya know what? He wasn’t half as bad as Aran was.” His grip on the wheel tightened, “Like, oh my gosh, I could go on forever about Aran, but it’s like—I give th’guy a ride, I went with him to the bar—and I don’t even like bars—but I still went cause I didn’t want him to be alone, cause he told me he hated that--”

“You’re too kind to him, do you know that?” Joe cut in.

“Yeah, well, we’re fr—we talk a lot. Sometimes I like to hang around him, right?” Disco said, “And I don’t mind helping th’guy out. Like, if somebody I knew from the stadium needed a hand, I’ll give it to ‘em! But he didn’t even thank me! I know that’s a stupid reason to get mad, but c’mon.”

“No, no, I’d be mad too!” Joe piped up, “What, you go out of your way to drive him to some random bar—free of charge—and stick around, and he can’t even cough up a ‘Thanks’?” Joe folded his glasses, slid them into his jacket’s pocket before he muttered to himself, “It’s common courtesy.”

Disco started to slow the car down as he eyed an open spot by a curb.

Joe eyed it as well.

His face scrunched.

Parallel parking.

A true nightmare.

He then looked back to Disco, “Did Aran do anything to show you a bit of appreciation? Or did Mr. World-Circuit feel too high and mighty for that?”

“He paid for whatever food I got.” Disco said as he carefully pulled into the spot, “Wasn’t good food, but at least I didn’t have to pay for it.”

“Didn’t even text a ‘Thank you’?” Joe asked.

Disco laughed. It was bitter. “Nah, just threats cause I didn't want to drive him home.”

Joe didn’t bother to hide his repulsion, “What did he say?”

“Typical Aran stuff.” Disco said with a click of his tongue as he parked the car, “Told me he was gonna beat me, tear my head off, went off on this whole thing bout how he was soooo much stronger than me ‘n that he’d ruin my life, which--” Disco laughed, “He’s already ruinin’ my life just by being around me.”

His laughter died down, and his smile fell, “That’s Aran for you.”

Disco took the keys out of the ignition and shoved them into the pocket of his shorts. He swung open the door and looked at the path ahead.

“Cafe’s a small walk from here, that work for ya?” He asked.

“I don’t mind.” Joe responded as he got out of the car, “Thank you for the ride.”

Disco nodded as he stepped onto the sidewalk. He patted himself down, exhaled, and put a smile back on his face. It looked forced, but Joe decided not to comment.

“Sorry.” Disco said as Joe joined his side.

“What for?”

“Well I was—was kinda soundin’ like a jerk back there, wasn’t I?”

“Oh, stop.” Joe put his hand up, “You were upset, anyone would be after the night you’ve had. If anything, I think you were being too nice.”

That didn’t seem to ease Disco’s worries. Joe put a hand on his shoulder.

“I promise you, you were just fine. If you ever need to let these sort of things off your chest, I’m more than happy to listen.”

Disco relaxed some, “Thanks Joe.” He looked over to the end of the path, “If it’s all good with you, I can tell ya more at the cafe? Don’t wanna leave Kaiser ‘n Hippo outta this.”

“Oh, of course!” Joe clasped his hands together, “Besides, I have my own little stories I want to share with all of you. You won’t believe what I’ve seen these last several days.”

“Oh yeah?” Disco raised his brows as he leaned closer to Joe, hoping to hear a little more.

Joe was about to tell him to be patient, but then his phone rang.

He dug it out of his pocket, hoping it was Sandman finally responding, but confusion flashed across his face when he saw Hondo’s number.

He answered the call and pressed the phone against his ear, “Hello?”

“Good morning.” Hondo greeted, his voice stiff, “I apologize if this is sudden--”

“No, no, don’t be! I always enjoy hearing from you. Is--” Joe’s voice trailed off as he kept walking, “Is everything alright?”

It was silent for a moment.

Despite Disco’s head being turned the other way, Joe could see him trying to watch out of the corner of his eye.

“I…” Hondo finally began, “I had the strangest dream a few nights ago, but now I’m—I’m not so certain it was a dream.”

Joe lowered his brows, “What do mean?”

“Over the weekend, I was training. It was getting late, and I didn’t want to rest yet, so I made myself some tea...” Hondo said, “...And while I was waiting for it to cool, Tiger appeared in front of me. He shouted at me, and I—I don’t even recall what he said. It happened so suddenly, and then he disappeared.”

Joe let out a barely audibly ‘What?’

“It was so bizarre that I—truthfully, I thought I was losing my mind. I thought I had gotten so tired that I was finally starting to see things, so I went to bed.”

“So what makes you think it wasn’t a dream?” Joe asked. He could feel Disco’s eyes on him, but he paid him no mind.

“I received a text from Tiger yesterday. I can't help but feel that and his sudden outburst are connected.” Hondo muttered, “He wants to talk with me. I’m not sure about what, but if he’s going to act so irrational, I don’t know if I want to talk to him.”

“Well, you’re going to have to eventually. You go to the same stadium.”

“I know.”

It felt like Hondo wanted to say more, but after another stretch of silence, Hondo sighed.

“I apologize for this again. I know it was sudden, it’s just—“

“No, please, don’t worry about it. If that happened to me, I know I’d want to tell somebody.” Joe tried to reassure him.

“Thank you. I suppose I didn’t—I--” Hondo fumbled with his words, “I couldn’t bring this up to Bear. As much as I appreciate him, he’d try to get Tiger and I to ‘make up’ over what happened at the dinner. He even tried to convince me of that very thing last night.” There was a hint of annoyance in his tone, “He told me his hand was feeling better, that he’d like to try and spar again, and then he suggested we bring everyone else along. Tiger, Don, even Overload. He said it would be great to ‘have everyone back together’, but I just—I can’t. Not now.”

Joe finally looked over and caught Disco staring. Disco jumped and whipped his head the other way. Joe put his attention back on the phone as they walked on.

“That definitely sounds like something Bear would say.” Joe chuckled, “He means well, but like you said, you’re not all that thrilled at having another get-together, are you?”

“Not for a long time.” Hondo said.

Joe looked up ahead. He could see the cafe waiting for him and Disco. It’s aged, seashell-white bricks were decorated with splashes of light, dusty red hues that faded into a gentle pink the closer they got to the ground, and they helped make the snow-white frame around the rectangular window pop out.

The left side of the small, one story building had been covered with tons of tiny, twisted vines, and resting in the alleyway next to that wall were tens of pots that varied in shapes and sizes, and filled with what looked like hundreds of different flowers, bushes, and even a few little fruit plants. They all mingled together, making an otherwise dull alley into something quite beautiful. They also did an excellent job at blocking off the side door to the cafe.

The mahogany-red front door had been propped open with a rock, letting the heavenly aroma of coffee and fresh pastries out into the world… A heavenly aroma that made Joe and Disco pick up the pace.

“Just let Bear know how you feel, hm? I’m sure he’d understand.” Joe said.

“I will. In due time. I just needed someone else to talk.”

Joe nodded as he stared at the round, gray patio tables that sat outside the cafe. Each of them had a black umbrella in the center, while their aluminum seats had light green, checkered cushions on top of them. Most of the tables had already been taken, and when Joe glanced at the window and saw how crowded it was inside, he started to worry that they might not be able to find a seat--

But as soon as his eyes landed on Kaiser sitting at one of the outdoor tables, with a large tree towering over it, creating the perfect shade for them, he felt a wave of relief hit him.

“Alright,” Joe exhaled, “I hope you’re feeling a little better now.”

“I am. Thank you, once again. Could I…” Hondo hesitated, “Would it be alright if we kept in touch about this? I don’t want to bring Bear’s spirits down, or cause any trouble with--”

“Please, you’re fine!” Joe swatted at the air, “I don’t mind at all.”

“Thank you.” Hondo said, “Have a good day.”

Finally, Joe hung up.

A mix of satisfaction and concern filled him. Not the most comforting feeling to have—and not the most soothing conversation he’s had—but at least he could help Hondo in someway.

Joe felt Disco staring at him again.

Before he could turn around and apologize for the long call, Disco started talking.

“Soooo, what was that bout? Everything all good with Hondo ‘n Bear?”

“Yes, yes, they’re just fine. I’ll tell you in a few, but for now--” Joe slipped his phone into his coat’s pocket and waved his hand, “Hello Kaiser!”

Disco looked straight ahead and spotted Kaiser, who was giving a smaller, slower wave back.

Joe pulled out one of the chairs and flashed his friend a smile.

Kaiser had enough energy to force a grin on his face before he brought his attention back to a stack of papers in front of him. He kept a strong grip on a worn down pen and scribbled away as if his life depended on it. Joe was admittedly impressed to see that despite how fast he was going, Kaiser’s handwriting looked so neat.

“Paperwork? At a cafe?” Disco asked as he rested against a chair.

“Well, it’s the perfect place to get work done, isn’t it? It’s nice, quiet, and there’s some good food.” Joe said with the raise of his head.

“Yeah, but like—we’re supposed to be having a chill morning. Shouldn’t have to be doin’ homework on a day like this.” Disco said.

Joe opened his mouth—but Kaiser spoke instead.

“I will put it away soon.” He said, still writing, “I came here early. Wanted to see how many forums I could complete before you two came. I do not want to ruin our morning.” He sounded exhausted.

He looked exhausted.

Joe held his tongue, refraining from sharing any comments about Kaiser’s attire.

He wore a plain beige shirt with three buttons at the top, but only one of the three was actually buttoned up. Over that, he wore a trench coat about the same length as Joe’s, and it’s color was a rather gross, swampy green—not that Kaiser’s coat was gross, goodness no, it’s what the color reminded him of that was gross.

Joe also couldn’t help but notice how… Worn down the coat seemed. Torn ends, wrinkles, small stains and holes, he wondered how long Kaiser has held onto it.

Kaiser’s khakis had their bottoms half-heartedly tucked into his dark brown, leather combat boots, which it seemed he didn’t even have the time to tie the laces of.

Joe watched Kaiser set the pen down and grabbed a cup of black coffee that had been sitting by his papers.

“The forums are for my students.” Kaiser added unprompted.

Joe and Disco looked at him.

“Safety forums, parental permission, some for removing students because the boxing classes were ‘too violent’.” Kaiser scoffed at that last part, “I understand that it is a harsh sport, but violent? I always make sure my students are safe as they learn. I would never push them to such extremes.”

“The kids are complaining bout that?” Disco asked.

“The parents.” Kaiser answered, “Children love the class, they love giving hits. Parents, however, think it is too much.”

“Jeez.” Disco rolled his eyes before he leaned even closer to Kaiser, “Why don’t ya take a break from those lousy forums and eat some breakfast, huh?”

Joe was about to tell Disco that Kaiser’s work wasn’t ‘lousy’, but Kaiser nodded and slipped his papers into a dark green, beaten-up messenger bag he had hung around the back of his chair.

“Breakfast sounds nice. I will save the seats, and you two will grab the meals?” Kaiser asked.

“Yes, that sounds good. What would you like?” Joe asked as he took off his coat and placed it over his chair.

“The porridge, please.”

“Right,” Disco nodded before he looked around, “and uh, where’s Hippo?”

“He could not make it.” Kaiser said.

Disco jumped, “What?!”

“Visiting his island. 'Royal duties' is what he told me.”

Disco put his hands on his hips, “Awh man, that sucks. We can’t just leave a guy hangin’ like that! We could pick somethin’ up for him while we’re here? Maybe like uh, a cookie or somethin’?”

“I’m sure they have something inside fit for a king.” Joe said with a chuckle, proud of himself for such a quip, “But yes, I’m starving! Let’s get something to eat.”

Disco started to bounce, “Yeah, and then you’re gonna tell us bout Bear Hugger, right?”

Kaiser raised a brow, “Something happened to Bear?”

Joe flicked his wrist, “Oh, just you wait. You two won’t believe the things I’ve seen.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Tiger teleported above Bull’s house.

He didn’t want to be here.

He needed to be inside.

He shook his head.

He wasn’t going to try and teleport again. He might end up somewhere even farther.

He started to fly towards Bull’s backyard.

Wind rushed past his face, and he swore his turban was just seconds away from unraveling--

His body suddenly jerked to the left.

He cursed.

He tried to put his focus back on his flying, only for a sharp, stabbing pain to shoot inside him, cause him to jerk to the side again.

He stopped and immediately hit his gem with the palm of his hand. A pathetic attempt to get his magic to wake up faster.

Tiger looked at the red, clay tile roof of Bull’s house. He slowly brought himself closer to it.

With each agonizing second that passed, his panic only grew worse.

Each second wasted out here was a second he could’ve used to help Bull.

And the group of people he saw outside of Bull’s gates while he was high in the air?

The large crowd gathered out there—some with their cars parked in the middle of the road, and some with own tents? It made Tiger furious.

The sun shone on Tiger and burned his skin.

Don’t those people have lives? Families? Friends? Anything else they could spend their time on rather than constantly harassing his friend?

If only Tiger’s magic was working properly, oh how he’d love to create a horrifying illusion to scare them off.

When Tiger was finally close enough to the roof, he stopped flying and landed on it with a loud thud.

He turned around and eyed the balcony to Bull’s room.

He started walking towards it, the clay tiles rattling under his weight.

He held his breath.

The rattles grew louder.

He swore he heard one make a snapping sound--

Or was that the sound of a camera?

He couldn’t risk bringing more attention towards Bull.

He whipped his head around.

He didn’t see anyone.

And with how tall Bull’s cement fence was, he was certain the paparazzis couldn’t see him.

Still, he couldn’t stay out here for a second longer.

Tiger reached the edge of the roof and jumped onto the balcony.

He turned towards the purple curtains that covered the door way to the room and poked his head through.

“Bull?!” He hollered, his voice echoing through the large, empty bedroom. He took a step in, “Bull, I’m here to check on you! It’s just me—Tiger!”

No response.

Bull must still be in that spare room downstairs.

At least, Tiger hoped so.

Tiger hurried past the curtains and towards the burnt umber, round framed door that led to the rest of the house. He quickly scanned the room as he ran through it.

A pile of pillows sat on Bull's bed. It looked like they hadn’t been touched in days, nor did the neatly folded blankets beside them.

The rest of the room was perfectly still, and marvelously decorated as always, and the way the sun poured through the large, arched windows and shone onto the colorful fabrics on Bull’s ceiling? It was gorgeous, to the point it almost felt like a mockery to what his friend was going through.

Tiger slipped out of the bedroom and stepped out onto the interior bridge that connected to the staircase. He grabbed onto the wooden railings and leaned over, facing towards the front door. He sharply inhaled.

The two tall, narrow windows that sat on both sides of Bull’s door had been shattered.

What looked like millions of glass shards were scattered across the light, mahogany wooden floor.

Tiger quickly looked to the left where Bull’s living room stood.

There were probably even more shards hidden under the furniture and in between the threads of his rug, and he noticed the window there had several large cracks on it as well.

He hurried down the stairs.

As soon as he hit the last step, he leapt into the air and flew over the glass.

He stared at the mess, wincing at how many jagged pieces there were.

He also noticed multiple large rocks scattered amongst them.

He looked back to the broken windows and noticed ripped pieces of cloth stuck on some of the edges. Someone must’ve been trying to reach for the doorknob.

He peered through the windows and noticed the mosaic lamps Bull had hung outside and been knocked down and shattered.

Sun filled the house and bounced off the shards, decorating Bull’s walls with hundreds of fractured light. Some were tainted in gentle hues of greens from nearby plants, some were vibrant purples and blues due to the pieces of the mosaic lamps they hit, while many others had been tinted a soft orange.

Their warped, sharp shapes reminded Tiger of scattered puzzle pieces, or broken parts of a painting that needed to be mended.

In a horrible way, it was beautiful, but Tiger had to get rid of it.

‘Perhaps…’ He thought to himself, ‘It’d be better to wait a few moments?’

His magic has already been so difficult to work with. He didn’t want to risk trying to teleport the broken glass elsewhere only for something bad to happen. They could end up in a place they shouldn’t be, or land on some innocent bystander, or--

Frantic footsteps shook the house.

Tiger looked ahead to the small hallway that lead to the guestroom.

The steps grew faster and faster, as did the heavy breathing accompanying them.

Tiger’s gem flashed rapidly, “Bull--?!”

A large hand suddenly shot past the tan wall and gripped onto the corner.

A frightened, defensive Bull followed after.

“You will not--!” Bull shouted, but his wild expression dropped when he saw Tiger.

Tiger darted higher into the air and hugged his knees to his chest—which he quickly let go of.

“Bull, I am so sorry for scaring you.” Tiger said as he gradually lowered himself.

“No, I’m–I didn’t know you were…” Bull’s voice dwindled, “...Why are you here?”

“I had to check on you!” Tiger exclaimed, “I saw what happened to you—I saw the paper, and I had to make sure you were doing alright and—oh!” Tiger hissed to himself, “Those blasted paparazzi. What a pathetic excuse of a job.” He glared down at the glass shards below him, catching glimpses of his fractured reflections.

Bull peered past the corner and took a quick glance through a broken window. Despite seeing no one outside, he stayed hidden behind the wall.

Bull tugged at his sideburns, face occasionally scrunching whenever his fingers touched one of his bruises.

Tiger swore he didn’t have nearly as many the last time he saw him.

But he kept quiet.

He also kept quiet about any concerns he had towards Bull’s appearance, as he was quite certain Bull was well aware of how dreadful he looked.

The tear streaks on his face, his messy sideburns, the uncomfortable shifting of his feet… And it looked like Bull has worn that taupe-colored shorts and that drab, beige t-shirt for days. They were horrifically wrinkled, and the shirt had a few stains.

“I wish you had--” Bull began, but his brittle voice dwindled again. He folded his arms and gripped onto the sleeves of his shirt. His uneasiness grew. “I know you mean well. I appreciate you, but I--”

“If this is about my sudden arrival, again, I sincerely apologize.” Tiger cut in, “I left you a voicemail, but I know you’ve probably had your phone off since you—since the fight, but I wanted to let you know in advance because--”

“I wish you had not come.” Bull said.

Tiger stopped.

He waited for a moment. He waited for Bull to take that back, or to apologize, but the longer the silence went on, the worse he felt.

“What?” He finally whispered.

Bull couldn’t look him in the eyes, “I know you mean well, but you should not have come. I didn’t want you to get stuck in the middle of this.”

“In the middle of what?” Tiger asked, “In the middle of some frantic—chaotic mess that you’re stuck in? Do you really think I’d go out of my way to call you—visit you—if I didn’t want to get into this? Why do you think I’ve told you to call me if you needed anything?” He flew closer to his friend, “You’re dealing with your horrible fans--for heavens sake, they tried to break in just to talk to you! You think I wouldn’t--”

“That is one of the reasons why I have not called you for help.” Bull said, his voice stiff.

Tiger was taken aback.

Bull still couldn’t look at him.

“But you--” Tiger mumbled, “I thought you weren’t able to call to me because of how many fans were bothering you?” He felt beads of sweat starting to form where the sun was hitting him.

“That is true. I would not lie to you about that. It has been a lot.” Bull dug his nails deeper into his skin, “But I did not want to call you because this--” He gestured at the broken glass before pointing towards one of the windows, “—Because they are dangerous, and you have dealt with me enough already.”

“Dealt?” Tiger repeated in a hush.

Bull finally looked at him, only for his eyes to quickly flicker away again.

“Dealt? What, like us being friends is just some little hassle I have to go through? An errand? Or do you see me helping you as some sort of babysitting duty?” Tiger shot himself higher into the air, now towering above Bull.

“Tiger, that is not what I said--”

“No, but it certainly felt like it!” Tiger snapped. He took a deep breath and lowered himself a few inches, “Are you referring to the night of your fight? Is that when I ‘dealt’ with you?”

“Yes.” Bull kept his mouth open to say more, but Tiger talked over him.

“Please, you were going through a hard time! You lost a fight, you were hurt, I wanted to help you! That’s not some sort of chore for me, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” He got closer to Bull’s face. Bull inched away.

“Is it so wrong for me to want to do the same now?” Tiger asked, “I don’t want to find out what’s happening to you through the paper. I want to be there as soon as I can, just like the night of your--”

“That night was different.” Bull said. He stepped forward, “There were only the two of us. Nobody else. I am still thankful for your help, but when my fans are around, it--”

“I’ve dealt with fans before!” Tiger exclaimed, “You don’t think I’ve had my fair share of deranged fans?!”

Bull lowered his brows, “You have not dealt with mine.”

“Yes I have!”

“No, you have not.” Bull raised a foot, ready to take another step, but when he saw the glass shards below, he stopped, “You have helped teleport me away from them, yes—and I am grateful for that—but those were all from a distance. You have not dealt with fans surrounding your house, or trying to break in to get close to you. That is very different.”

Tiger grit his teeth.

“So?” He asked, “So they’re a different kind of deranged, what of it? What makes you think I can’t help you with this?” His voice was filled with desperation and frustration. He leaned even closer to Bull, the front half of his body now in the hall, while the lower half still hovered above the shards.

Bull finally brought his eyes back to Tiger’s, “I do not doubt you can help me, but I do not want you to get hurt trying. I would never forgive myself.”

“Oh, hurt. Hurt!” Tiger scoffed as he threw himself away from Bull. He started to pace around in the air, anger growing inside of him, “What a fantastic point. I could get hurt. A Major Circuit boxer—who’s been punched a million of times—might get scratched up by some people with a camera!”

“It is not only about the physical injuries.” Bull said, but before he could add on, Tiger gave him a furious look.

His gem flashed brightly and a clone appeared between them. Half of it’s face had been fused with it’s turban, their colors bleeding and swirling together, while the other half looked as though it was melting, and slowly merging with his neck.

“What else--?” The clone asked, it’s voice distorted and painful to listen to, making Bull recoil.

Tiger swatted it away and took it’s place, “What else is there? If you tell me, I promise you, I could help you with it!”

“They will follow you!” Bull snapped back, finally raising his voice, “No matter where you go, they will follow you! You will not get a second to yourself. Every moment of your life will be on the paper or on the screen.” Bull got as close as he could to his friend without stepping on the glass, “You will be stuck hiding in your house, and even then, you will not be safe! They will always try to find you, or rip off a piece of you to keep to themselves. Tiger it would be far too much for you too handle. I have been dealing with it for years--”

“And you’re still not used to it!” A clone that appeared between the two men snapped. Tiger sliced it’s head off with one swift motion, making it disappear into a cloud of smoke.

“Then why can’t I use my magic to block out your windows? Or scare them away? I could even let you stay at my place!” Tiger clutched at his chest as his gem flashed rapidly.

Bull turned away and muttered, “I am already the ‘scariest’ boxer, yet they keep coming back. I do not want you wasting your energy on me—on these sort of people, and I will not risk putting you in the middle of this. I can handle it.”

Tiger’s hands curled to tight fists. He pressed his lips together and scowled.

There were a million things he wanted to say.

A million things that could possibly change Bull’s mind, or could do more harm than good.

He felt those words try to pry his mouth open--

Another clone flickered in the middle of the glass shards.

Tiger and Bull watched as the clone crouched down and stared at the pieces. It’s body was jagged, it’s arms jutted out in odd, sharp angles, as did it’s torso, and it’s legs looked a little too long to be normal.

It then turned it’s head over to Bull, showing off how most of it’s face appeared stretched, as if someone had grabbed it’s skin and pulled it away, leaving only a set of teeth visible, “As if you’re handling this well.” It whispered.

Tiger quickly whipped his head back over to Bull and hurt flash across his face.

Before he had the chance to waft the clone away, it disappeared.

It was Tiger’s turn to avoid looking at his friend.

He just stayed floating in the air, head down, looking at his reflections in the broken glass.

He could feel Bull staring at him, and that only made the sour pit in his stomach grow.

Bull finally sighed.

“Tiger,” He said, his voice low, “I appreciate you visiting, but I need you to leave.”

Tiger’s brows lowered.

He raised a hand in the air and curled it into a fist.

The shards of glass started to slowly hover off the ground. Speckles of lights danced around the house.

“I am doing this because—because I care about you. Because I love you.” Bull said.

Tiger then opened his fist, and the shards disappeared, “It certainly doesn’t feel like it.”

Even with the glass gone, he still kept his eyes on the floor.

Tiger opened his mouth, hesitating for a moment before he spoke again, “Has it ever occurred to you that I’m offering to help you because I also care about you?”

The sunlight felt as though it was burning Tiger’s skin off.

“I know I’ve been getting… Upset, but it’s because I also want you to be alright.” He drifted a few inches closer to his friend, his voice weaved with worry, “This is me telling you that I can help you.”

Bull stared back at him, a broken expression on his battered face… And then he took a step back.

“And this is me telling you I do not need it.”

Tiger stayed there, watching as Bull backed further away, until he eventually turned away and disappeared into the hallway.

He listened as his friend’s footsteps grew quieter.

Tiger’s hands trembled.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, “If you ever--!”

The footsteps stopped.

Tiger took a deep breath and lowered his voice, “If you ever change your mind, know that I will still give you my help.”

The silence lingered.

Then he heard the footsteps start again, followed by a door clicking shut.

Tiger waited for a few more moments, hoping Bull would rush out and tell him he does need his help, or to pull him into a hug and apologize, and then they could figure out how to work through this together, but that never happened.

Bull stayed in the guestroom, and Tiger stayed in the entryway.

With nothing more to do, and with no one needing him, his gem flashed, and he teleported away.

~ ~ ~ ~

“What?!” Disco blurted out, “And was there blood? Lotsa blood?”

“Thankfully not too much, but one of his nails nearly came off, and it looked awful.” Joe said as he gestured with his fork. He sat with his legs crossed, leaning back far enough that the chair looked like it was about to tip over, yet he somehow remained balanced.

Disco squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, not too fond of the imagery that popped up, and even though Kaiser looked stoic—his arms folded and posture rigid—Joe noticed the subtle scrunch of disgust on his face.

“What happened after that?! Was Bear alright? Nothing got infected, did it?” Disco asked as he jabbed his fork into one of his waffles and shoved it into his mouth. There was so much whipped cream and fruit piled on top that they were practically hidden.

“The poor man was in agony.” Joe threw his head back, “Thank the stars this happened in the locker room though, because I was able to grab some paper towels and help clean him up.” Joe set his fork down by his salad bowl, “And thankfully Tiger heard the commotion as well and offered to get a first aid kit, but he was also…” Joe rolled his eyes.

Disco and Kaiser exchanged confused glances.

“Did… Tiger help Aran and Overload with the mousetraps?” Kaiser asked, his brows lowering.

Joe jolted, “No! Absolutely not. He was just frustrating to deal with that day.”

That didn’t seem to satisfy Kaiser, “Frustrating how?”

Joe’s cheeks turned a light pink, “I suppose ‘frustrating’ wasn’t the best word to go with, but—actually I need to explain a little more.” He grabbed his cup of mocha and held it close, “So after Tiger left, Bear wanted me to text Hondo about what was going on, so I did. Then before I knew it, Hondo suddenly appeared! I don’t know how he gets around so fast, but anyways--” He took a sip, “He checked up on Bear, asked who had set up those traps, then Tiger reappeared, and that’s when things got frustrating.”

Kaiser and Disco continued eating their breakfast as Joe explained what happened on that dreaded day.

He rambled about how everyone in the locker room realized Aran had been the one to place those traps inside the locker, how Octave most likely helped, how defensive Tiger got at the ‘accusation’, even though it was so obviously true.

Disco listened intensely, wrapped up in every detail of the story, never taking his eyes off of Joe, not even to make sure his fork was actually hitting his waffles.

Kaiser, despite listening attentively to everything Joe was saying, found his eyes occasionally drifting away. He’d glance at families that’d walk by with kids happily holding onto the parents’ hands, or at the occasional leaf or crumpled newspaper that flew with the wind. He ate a spoonful of porridge and put his focus back on Joe.

“Tiger and Overload…” Kaiser mumbled as he pat his mouth with a napkin, “I have never pictured the two of them becoming friends.”

“I’ve heard a bit bout ‘em through Aran.” Disco added as he took a sip of the strawberry-mango tea he ordered. It smelled so sweet to the point Joe was almost certain the baristas had given him a glass of fruit punch instead.

“They must be getting along well if Tiger is willing to defend him.” Joe said with another roll of his eyes.

“Pah, if I was friends with a man who was constantly cruel, I would not hesitate to call out their behavior.” Kaiser frowned as he straightened his posture even more.

“Exactly!” Joe said, “I don’t care how close I am with someone, if they’re being a pain, I won’t tolerate it. I don’t know why Tiger thought we were ‘antagonizing’ him, even though he knows Overload constantly acts this way.” He sunk down further into his seat, “A part of me just worries that he’ll get get wrapped up in Aran and Overload’s messes.”

“Nah, maybe not.” Disco said.

Joe and Kaiser stared at him.

“I think Tiger’s probably only gonna hang round Octave cause like--” Disco took another bite of his waffles and kept talking, “Tiger hates Aran, ‘n Aran? Guy can’t stand him either. He’s told me bout it before, and don’t tell the other guys at the stadium this, but…” His eyes flickered between the men before he leaned in, “I think Octave ‘n Aran hadda big fight.”

Joe’s eyebrows shot up, “Really now?”

Even Kaiser seemed surprised.

“Yeah! I texted Aran last night, right? Wanted to make sure he made it home—mostly cause his sister needs him—but when I asked, he started goin’ off about how fed up he was with Octave. Tried to get more outta him, but he stopped responding.” Disco then propped his head up with his hands and batted his eyelashes, “Maybe they were fightin’ over li’l ol’ me.”

That managed to get a chuckle out of Kaiser.

“Well…” Joe brought his coffee to his lips again, “It’s not like they haven’t fought before.”

“Yeah but like—I dunno. Aran gets into fights all the time, but he never complains bout it. Usually he just jokes and brags bout it or whatever, but like, this felt different, you know?” Disco said.

“And what about Tiger?” Kaiser asked.

Joe took a sip, “What about him?”

Kaiser’s expression grew serious, “He is with Overload. If Overload is not afraid to hurt Aran, who is to say he won’t hurt Tiger as well?”

Disco and Joe’s eyes went to anywhere but Kaiser as they pondered that question.

Joe’s mind was already filling with hundreds of horrible things Overload could do to Tiger—or to anyone for that matter. Heaven knows he’s probably furious over his little relationship drama with Aran, and it’s only a matter of time before he lashes out and gets someone severely hurt—

Joe quickly took another sip of coffee to try and drown out his thoughts.

He then cleared his throat, “I’m sure Tiger would be able to deal with it one way or another. He’s got his magic, he has friends to help him--”

“Like us!” Disco added.

“Right. Though he’s not too happy with me at the moment.” Joe muttered, “Either way, he can always ask for help when the time comes.” He then set his cup down and leaned his head against his hand, “Or he could do us all a favor and teleport Overload far away from here.”

Joe heard Disco laugh, and he could practically feel the eyebrow raise he got from Kaiser, but Joe picked up his fork and put his focus back on his salad.

Joe then heard Kaiser mumble to himself. He looked up ever so slightly

“Overload and Aran…” Kaiser grumbled as he stared into his black coffee, “I swear I have taught children with better manners than them.”

Joe hummed, a small grin on his face.

“Please, I don’t think that’s a very high bar for—oh!” Something on the ground caught his attention.

Joe carefully tipped his chair back further and reached towards the sidewalk.

“Dropped something?” Kaiser tilted his head.

“No, no, I found a leaf.” Joe plucked the leaf off the ground and sat right back up, “Sandman wanted me to find a nice one for him. I think this should do, hm?”

He twirled it’s red stem between his fingers, showing off a brilliant green leaf that had been adorned with bright yellow speckles that faded to orange at the bottom.

Kaiser paused, “I suppose, though I am not a leaf expert.”

“I like it!” Disco said with a mouth full of food, “Oh, speakin’ of Sandman, you see that little column bout him in the paper this morning?”

Joe perked up, “No, I haven’t. I think I saw a little bit about something going on with Bull--”

Disco cut him off, excited, “Yeah! It was on the page right after that. He might be havin’ another fight soon! I gotta keep my eyes open for it, I wanna buy my parents tickets to it—they love his fights and I wanna surprise ‘em.”

“Really?” Joe was about to ask ‘With who?’ But he closed his mouth when he remembered that miserable other champion that’s been trash talking his friend for the last couple of weeks. He let a twinge of annoyance show through as he thought about that boxer for a moment.

Did that champion really have nothing better to do than waste journalists’ time with his constant trash talk?

Doesn’t he have training to do?

People to punch?

Joe huffed. He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with that champion in the near future, but if it meant seeing Sandman eventually knock his lights out, then he’ll put up with it.

Joe exhaled before he put a smile back on his face, “Well, I’m sure whenever that fight arrives, it’ll be fantastic.”

~ ~ ~ ~

Tiger was back in one his hammocks, arms folded, a leg dangling off the side, and a scowl on his face.

He wished he had never gotten up this morning.

He wished he had ignored that blasted newspaper when it hit his door.

He could’ve slept in and woken up refreshed, but no.

He had to be a good friend and check on Bull.

And look where that’s gotten him.

Tiger’s flip phone orbited his hammock.

Tiger gave a halfhearted snap of his fingers, his gem flashed, and his phone let out a beep.

“Heya Tiger…” Bear’s voicemail played, “I was tryna call ya, but ya must’ve been asleep, hope I didn’t wake ya up on accident or somethin’.”

Tiger sunk deeper into his hammock as he listened on.

“Hope yer doin’ well for starters! My hand’s feelin’ loads better, still gotta be careful of course, but I was wonderin’ if yer gonna be free in a couple’o days? I was thinkin’ of goin’ back to th’stadium to work out, ‘n it’d be great to have ya around! We can practice in that li’l ring together, or ya can just sit ‘n watch, I don’t mind either way...”

Tiger sneered as the recording kept going.

Look at that, a friend that’s actually asking for his help, and he didn’t need to drag himself out of bed and teleport out of his house just to hear it.

It’s nice to know someone likes to have him around.

“...Ya good if Hondo tags along as well? Don might be comin’ too…” That last part was barely audible, but Tiger heard just enough to make his scowl grow.

Hondo still hasn’t responded to his message.

If Hondo refused to acknowledge Tiger’s attempts to reach out, then so be it, Tiger will gladly confront him in the stadium. Hondo couldn’t hide forever.

”...But he said he might be busy with uh—with stuff. He didn’t tell me with what, but hey! Maybe ya can ask Octave to tag along as well!” Even through the recording, Tiger could hear Bear’s smile.

Tiger doubted Overload would want to come after what’s happened, and he could only imagine the fit Hondo would throw if he saw him again.

“...I know that uh… That things have been kinda weird since, ya know, but…” Bear’s voice dwindled.

Tiger took a deep breath.

“...I guess I just want my buds to stay buds, ya know?”

It was quiet for a moment.

Tiger’s eyes lingered at the end of his hammock. For a second, he thought the voicemail had ended, but Bear spoke again.

“Anyways! Just, uh, just lemme know if ya’d like to come! Hope to see ya--”

Tiger’s phone started to ring.

He sat up and quickly flicked his wrist, teleporting the phone into his hand. Perhaps it was Bear checking to see if he’s able to train, or perhaps Hondo finally decided to respond—but Tiger stopped when he saw it was Overload calling instead.

Tiger answered, “Yes--? Hello, good morning!”

“Hey, Tiger.” Octave said, his voice muffled.

“Is everything alright? I’m so used to our little chats in the evening that this feels a little odd.” Tiger chuckled as he brought the phone closer.

“Yeah, yeah, I was uh…” Octave trailed off, “Hey, we’re uh—we’re friends, right?”

Worry and confusion started to fill Tiger's chest as he pressed the phone against his ear, “Why of course.” He let out another chuckle, nervous, “What brought this on? Is everything alright?”

“Nah, yeah, everythin’s fine.” Octave said, “Just checkin’.”

[thecatastrophic]

GRUVIA WEEK 2023 — DAY SEVEN: CONTENTMENT

@gruviaweek

FROSTY WIND gusting through the pine trees, the sweet aroma of gingerbread cookies and candy cane, a picture-perfect warm fire dancing with the wood in the fireplace, and gooey love drifting through the atmosphere enveloping the people in a mist.

Shades of white covered the entire land in a thick blanket as pointed icicles decorated the window, cyan orbs lost in the motion of snowflakes trickling down the quaint town of Magnolia as he brought the cup of cafe mocha in his mouth, the rich chocolate flavors bursting through his system.

Years had gone by, trends had changed, and old buildings and roads had been refurbished, yet the sweet taste of the beverages in Mira's Cafe that he had known ever since he was a kid had always stayed the same. He despised changes more than anything in the world, maybe it was also the reason that he resisted the urge to leave their hometown like anyone else; there were times when he had to welcome the inevitable unknown only to go back to where he was used to growing up.

The screeching of the chair against the marble floor brought him out of his reverie, turning his head to meet the gaze of the person standing before his hooded eyes. He could feel his breath hitching, his dark pupils widening as his heart thumped out of his ribcage coming face to face with the person — no, a ghost from his past.

The first thing he noticed about her was her azure loose waves, they had grown longer with specks of lavender hues on their ends, resting on the luxurious beige coat around her body which had grown more mature, voluptuous as it perfectly embraced her figure donning a black top that matched her skirt that reached up to her mid-thigh. 

The stars dancing in her oceanic orbs were shining brighter than he could remember, the last time he gazed into her eyes — it was laced with tears and pain that he had caused. In her delicate hands was a net basket of carnations blooming in vivid pink shades, he also took note of the snowflake diamond jewelry on her ring finger.

"Juvia," her name seems foreign tumbling out of his lips, yet in the same way, familiar.

"Lyon," her voice had grown more feminine as a sweet smile graced her features, one that he hadn't seen in years.

Acting politely, he stood up to help her towards the sit before him to which she reciprocated with a simple 'thank you.' He sat down in front of her, only feeling the awkward atmosphere that seems to envelop the two young adults.

"Juvia knew she'd find you here, Lyon," the blue-haired lady was the first one to break the silence, trying to ease the awkwardness circling their space with the joyful rhythm of her voice. "How has Lyon been?" she intoned.

Lyon faked a cough before answering, "I've been good, Juvia. Working as a public lawyer had been tiring, but it was fun. How about you?"

"Juvia had been doing good too, she learned a lot of new things about marine life while working at Alvarez. She's been saying yes, instead of no. Also, did Lyon know that dolphins sleep with only one-eyed close?" she seemed excited, her fingers tracing the G initial engraved on her circular pendant which did not go unremarked by the silver-head man, he can't help but wonder what the initial meant.

"I have no idea," Lyon chuckled at her display of excitement remembering the same old Juvia who easily got excited over the minuscule of things.

Juvia genuinely smiled as she observed the crease by his hooded eyes as he cackled, the melody of his laughter seeming like an old song that she hadn't heard in years that she almost forgot how it sounded like; even though his cries when she left him by the lakes constantly haunted her in her sleep a few years back. 

"Juvia had this dream Lyon's doing cool shit."

Lyon halt from laughing, tilting his head as he never heard her curse even before, "Like what?"

"Having adventures on your own. Juvia dreamt that Lyon met some woman on the internet and take her home," Juvia responded, looking out at the scenery at the window.

Lyon's brows drew in a straight line, "Wow! That's quite the dream. Contrary to your sleep visions, I haven't been seeing anyone after Ultear." And after you left, he wanted to drag those words out of his mouth, yet found it improper, instead, he asked to further get the conversation going. "How about you? Have you been seeing someone?" he queried his former best friend.

With a flicker of overwhelming emotions that flashed through her orbs, further enhancing the glow of the stars beneath her voids that resembled that of the ocean that she fancy, and the tint of roses coating her high cheekbones, he could only deduce that she's caught in a love mist.

One, two, three.

Lyon waited for the excruciating waves of grief to trickle through his heart; to feel his lungs screaming for air as it felt like a thousand roses laced with thorns is blocking his airway as death knocked through his door of life — the same anguish that he felt almost ten years ago, only that it didn't come.

Had time changed his feelings contrary to his belief? 

"Who's the lucky guy?" he didn't know but his mouth somehow formulated those words.

Hazy chuckles erupted from Juvia as she handed him the basket of carnations, he had only noticed the ivory envelope resting in the center with a gold wax seal. The blue-haired girl gestured for him to open the envelope which he instantly obliged, curious.

Together with their families

Gray and Juvia 

Request the pleasure of your gracious 

presence at their engagement celebration.

It was Gray, of course, he should have known.

Gray and Juvia, their names etched with a fine foil print on the scented paper in swooping, sloping, cursive alphabetical characters were the catalysts to the memories that he had tried to bury deep in his soul; the moments that he realized that it has always been Gray for Juvia as Juvia had always been for Gray.

The tale of the trio's friendship had its genesis in snowy weather with three snowmen clad in Juvia's Santa hats, the ridiculous purple hand-me-down gloves from Gray's sister, and the scarves that Lyon stole from his mother.

The cold breeze continuously prompts the six-year-old Juvia to erupt in a cute sneeze as her tiny fingers moved to shape the snow in a circle, the plush sweater that resembled that of a pink frog failing to do its job to shield her from the cold.

"Stupid Juvia, just go inside the house," shrieked the seven-year-old raven-haired boy, pointing to the house beside his home as he had enough of her sneezes. 

"No, Juvia wants to win!" the younger girl cried as she thumped her feet against the snow-covered ground.

"Let her be, you idiot!" taunted an eight-year-old Lyon who was lost in his world as he sculpt his snowman to perfection.

Gray stood up from his comfortable squat on the ground, harshly removing the scarf draped around his almost-finished snowman which caused the figure that he made for half an hour to crumble down into nothing but an ugly lump, mixing with the ivory land.

The silver-haired kid jumped up and down as he watch his friend's snowman disintegrate, "I won!"

"No!" 

Gray paid Lyon no heed, walking towards the blue-haired girl having a tantrum at Lyon's outburst. Standing in front of her, he encircled the red frozen scarf around her which engaged a shriek from Juvia. "G-Gray, no way! It's cold!" she embraced her arms around her body, squatting down on the ground.

Gray's hand trembled, quite shocked at her reaction as he quickly moved to untangle the scarf around the younger kid, confusion dancing in his deep-blue orbs. "What's wrong? Teacher Elfman said that scarves are made to keep people warm, right?" he questioned naively.

The sound of Juvia's sweet snortles resonated through his ears as he helped her stand up, the blue-haired girl tilted her head in a wavy azure bob as she began to wonder alongside Gray, she motioned the older boy to scoot down as she whispered in his ear, "Maybe Lyon's scarf is broken because he just stole it from Auntie?"

"Hey, I heard it!"

A seventeen-year-old Lyon threw his phone on the bed, his fingers raking his silver hair as he felt the frustration from his never-ending fights with his girlfriend consume him. He lay on the bed, covering his eyes with his hand as he debated climbing over to Ultear's balcony which is a house away from his own to fix their misunderstanding, and if he was lucky, he can have her writhing underneath him or the other way around and make out thoroughly with her, but he decided against it as she says over the phone and he quoted, "I need space."

The teenager stood up from his bed, deciding to just take a much-needed cold shower he opened the blinds to let some light from the sunset seep through his room when a scenery from the next door window caught his eye. His brows drew in a thick line, confused as to what were those two doing. Ever since he dated the purple-haired lady next-next door, he hadn't been able to hang out with his best friends. 

Gray lazily sit on Juvia's bed with Frosch resting on his bare stomach as he read one of the beauty's books about marine life, while the female was slumped in front of him with his bejeweled guitar (courtesy of Juvia) resting on her front seemingly playing a song which prompts the raven-haired athlete to cover his ears with his hands. 

The tune of Juvia's carefree laughter drifted through the air, even engaging a smile on the silver-haired teenager's forlorn features. Her laughter ceased when Gray rested his forehead against hers, their pointed noses brushing against each other. Juvia put down the guitar, her forefinger moving against her best friend's bare chest as she traced stars around the area where his heart resides. The raven-haired male moved his head away from her, only to rest it against her shoulder as he buried his face in her azure curls, the spectator couldn't help but to take notice of Gray's ear blushing to a healthy shade of red. 

The silver-haired male closed the blinds as his jaw clenched, feeling rather vexed over something that he didn't know.

The golden rays of the morning star spread their scorching warmth on the beach, providing heat on the water, the sound of the waves meeting the shore should have been peaceful yet it felt menacingly eerie. The pure sand seeped its way inside his sandals, despite the heat beating down against his body; Lyon could feel the cold sweat trickling down his pale skin as he stood frozen on the ground, his dark pupils shrinking as he stared at Juvia who seems rather pale and unbreathing as she lay in the arms of Gray.

As if she was a delicate China that could break with mishandling, Gray gingerly placed her on the ground as he sat next to her. Trying to be as calm as he could, feigning ignorance to the quivering of his body as his mind dreaded the worst-case scenarios or how he felt like air is being punched out of his lungs, the raven-head placed his hands at the center of the female's chest. His palms pushed as hard and fast as he could, deducing that his best friend wasn't responding, he was swift to tilt her chin upwards as he pinch her nose, sealing her lips with his own as he blew as much air into her mouth. 

The hockey player kept repeating the cycle several times, until the blue-haired girl began coughing up a huge amount of water, feebly shifting to her side to vomit more water. The first thing that she saw was Gray when she opened her blue eyes, heaving rapidly with heavy panting as she tuck Gray in a tight embrace as memories underneath the surface of the sea began flooding her mind. 

"J-Juvia t-thought she'd," blazing tears began to course down her red cheeks, slender fingers clinging to his back. Her shoulders tremble with the force of her emotions as she forced herself to say, choking on her sobs, "N-never sees you again, G-Gray-sama." 

Broad shoulders quivering, the hockey athlete only stroked her tangled locks with his fingers, responding to her cries with the feel of his pale lips planted on her left temple as he embraced her tighter as if she'd evaporate in his arms.

Relief began to wash over Lyon as he watched his best friend alive and breathing, yet he couldn't help but taste an acidic flavor in his mouth as he realized that he did nothing but just stood there while she was fighting for her life. His cyan eyes watched over the two figures on the ground, a green monster emotion burning behind his dark orbs as he felt that there was more to his two best friends than meets the eye, he just can't seem to decipher what.

"Juvia's leaving in a month to study in Alvarez."

Lyon felt like the moment had stopped as her words registered in his mind, he stared wide-eyed and mouth agape as enormous emotions began to consume his being. The chirping of the crickets residing in the pine trees remained as the only music that enveloped the quiet evening, the glow of the crescent moon burning brightly in the ceiling of midnight sky gifted light in the quaint town of Magnolia in which the two figures sat side by side in front of Juvia's porch. 

The barking of his dog next door bestowed him the courage to let out strangled words, "W-what do you mean?" A crease formed between his thick eyebrows as he gazed at the young lady, who exuded a melancholic aura as she further buried herself inside the embrace of her thick blanket.

Her bloodshot eyes were decorated with dark circles, and the radiance that she once emanate seemed to have flown out in the air as her pale lips trembled; it dawned on him that she must have been feeling under the weather for the past few days. The confusion began to circle his mind, ever since they were just children playing around in the neighborhood, it had always been her dream to leave this town and study abroad as her parents did before.

"Alvarez University is sponsoring Juvia a scholarship to study marine biology," she smiled weakly, her gaze drifting towards the empty road in front of them as she sink further into her sheets.

"Truth be told, Juvia's hesitating to leave. Somewhere deep in her soul, Juvia wants to stay in her comfort zone with her comfort people!" the acidic water trailing down her face was glistening under the moonlight. "Juvia does not want to leave G-Gray-sama behind, Juvia doesn't understand why he kept pushing her to go to Alvarez. And does Lyon know what's worst? He said he'd catch up on Juvia so she should just go, but Juvia knew how much he loves the hockey team here! Of course, Juvia being Juvia said no which resulted in a fight. Plus, other girls would probably make a move on him!" she ranted, breathing heavily, she broke out in a childish wail as her hands moved to conceal her face. 

Lyon did not say anything, he ignored how she just blurted out her feelings for Gray, instead he hauled the blue-haired girl in a firm hug to show his sympathy as she let out her pent-up anguish to her friend. She buried her halo of blue in Lyon's shoulder, seeking warmth and comfort after being in solitude for days, without the familiar arms that used to hold her to tend her broken heart.

The heavy footsteps ghosting against the blue-haired chick's front lawn rang through his ears as he looked up, before he could register the storm brewing inside the dark-haired athlete's irises of oceanic blue, the older teenager was drawn upwards as his sharp jaw met his friend's fist causing him to tumble on the ground.

"Dude, what the fuck?!" Lyon screamed in the late evening, gaining the interest of their neighbors who instantly opened their respective windows to eavesdrop, desperate for some gossip, and that includes his ex-girlfriend with an unamused stare as cucumber coated her entire face.

Before Gray had the chance to pounce at him for the second time, Juvia was quick to intervene as she clasp her painted fingers around the furious male's wrists. "Gray-sama, no! Stop!" she shrieked as she leaned her head on his trembling back, drawing stars around his bruised fist to calm him down. Deducing that she needs to lay her armor down to end this cold war with Gray, the beauty flashed Lyon an apologetic smile before hauling the vexed man inside her house.

A flicker of realization dawned on the nineteen-year-old boy, he completely understood now. 

"No."

Gravel-grey clouds hover above the pitched-black painted sky, droplets of rain plunged like thousand of icicles scraping his pale skin as he knelt in the wet ground holding out a raindrop ring residing inside a heart-shaped velvet box. The loud cries of the heavens failed to mask her single answer to his proposal, he clenched his teeth with the feeling that the natural calamity was mocking him with the acidic taste of the rain in the corner of his lips, how it rumbled throughout the sky resembling that of a madman's laugh.

Grueling waves of anguish transverse to his heart as a feeling of being ruptured over by a thousand shards flickered through his being, swift yet excruciating; roseate lace thorns seeped through his airways, heartwrenching, and bloody, blocking his means of breathing. The tears that escaped his cyan voids as it hauntingly coursed down his face like a river seeming as the only remedy to ease his pain as he grieved for the living, watching her azure waves drift as she ran away from him reflecting the agony that he was enduring.

Loath.

Underneath the shower of the petals of water, as he dreads the path towards his house, Lyon loathed himself and his foolish decisions more than anything in the world. It was ungentlemanly, proposing to Juvia on a whim as he strive to stop her from leaving Alvarez to chase her childhood dreams.

Egocentric.

The silver-haired man embraced his feelings, feigning ignorance of the emotions of his closest friends as he caused them misery, their prosperous yesterdays of childish laughs and cries seeming to fade into thin air with his act of egoism.

Lyon's soul felt thin as shame washed over his being, the hurt in his heart escalated as if he was struck by lightning, standing frozen a few meters in their neighborhood; his melancholic voids watched as the love of his life tiptoed to savor the taste of Gray's lips as if it is her greatest luxury, with the raven-head's arms embraced tightly around her quivering figure as if it'd shield her from the demons lurking in the world.

Or maybe it was Lyon, himself.

The homey aroma of hot chocolate laced with a hint of burnt wood wafting through Mira's cafe, gently tickling his nostrils was the catalyst to bring his mind back to reality. His keen eyes observed the person in front of her, her oceanic orbs drifting around the cafe she frequented as a child, trying to spot as many changes as she failed to do so. 

Lyon brought the cup of his beverage to his lips, the sweet flavor providing him the determination to speak the words he failed to do back then. "Juvia," he began which caught her interest. "About the night before you left the country," recognition danced inside her starlike voids, "I sincerely apologize. Believe me, when I say, there wasn't a single night where I did not regret what I did. In my defense, I have none for not respecting your feelings to save my own." 

The fair lady painted a ray of sunshine over her angelic features, "Juvia had long forgiven Lyon for that. And it's alright now, but that stunt is something, doesn't Lyon think so?"

"Well," he responded with a nervous laugh.

The awkward aura that he felt earlier ceased to exist as it seemed to have evaporated into the dense air, they continued to converse about their lives for half an hour over cups of hot chocolate and cafe mocha with gingerbread cookies on the side — a similar scenery back when they were foolish teenagers.

The silver-haired man had learned that she and Gray had been together for more than ten years, turns out the former hockey player found himself fascinated with glaciology when he set foot in Alvarez. Juvia had also told him that her relationship with the raven-haired male had hit quite a bump in the road, like how she thought they would break up in the morning after 'the great war' as she quoted, but contrary to her insecurities, the man had remained patient with her as she is for him.

Lyon relish the way how her orbs were sparkling every time she talked about her glaciologist of a fiance, yet there was a selfish part of him that couldn't help but wonder that if one of his wishes had come true, would he be the one to light up the stars in her eyes?

"No!" Juvia exclaimed as she fixed her gaze on her phone, a crease forming in between her defined eyebrows as she gaze back at him with an apologetic smile. "Juvia had to go now, does Lyon remember Lucy? She's going into labor now!" she hastily stood up on her heels, as she fished out two cards from her purse that ranges from blue to black colors.

Lyon stood up with a grin on his lips, receiving the cards in her beige-painted fingers before briefly checking it to see that it was Juvia and Gray's contact details. "Oh! The writer who's dating Dragneel? I'm hoping for her best delivery," intoned the man. 

"Juvia truly enjoyed the chat today, she hopes we can catch up again some other time with Gray-sama like old times!" Juvia took a few steps towards the silver-haired man engaging him in a friendly hug as she pats his back before drawing away, "Be sure to bring a date next month! Juvia heard from Gray-sama that Ultear's single," she winked teasingly, before waving goodbye.

The lawyer stared at her as she walked towards the decorated door with a jump in her steps, observing her through the large window adorned with gilded pinecones, he noticed how she tucked a stray lock of azure behind her ear when a black Lexus car halted before her. 

Gray emerged from the driver's seat to open up the car door for her, he rested his palms on both of her shoulders which made her stop in her strides, before removing the woolen grey-colored scarf around his neck to drape it around her, making sure to hide her gorgeous face from the cold.

Some things never change. 

Satisfastion coursed through his veins, pleased that Gray and Juvia ended up with each other, despite trying to act as the villain of their story to sabotage fate himself. Some things are just meant to be, he thought as he took a sip from his beverage, catching a glimpse of vivid curls of bubblegum pink, and maroon eyes, walking past the couple.

Juvia encircled her slender arms around Gray's broad shoulders, sneakily pointing at the mistletoe by the bejeweled pivot door of the cafe. The raven-haired man rolled his blue eyes, whispering sweet nothings into her flushed ear, before leaning down to claim her luscious lips with his own. 

A sense of contentment washer over Lyon as his orbs of cyan voids stared at his old friends with a proud gaze, the quaint town of Magnolia had never seen a love as pure as these childhood sweethearts who seemed oblivious to the lavender haze that they emanates.

All's well that ends well.

[omgkalyppso]

Happy Rodweek! I'm not 100% sure why, but I decided I'd draw baby Rodrigue with his mother. Borrowing @recurringwriter's oc Melodie for the occasion.

[Content ID: Art of a pale mother and child. The woman has her hair pulled back in a blue ribbon netting. Part of a gold earring is visible from behind a lock of hair. She wears a dress of different blue fabrics with a black collar and embellishment on the sleeve on her upper arm, and a beige trim at her wrist. She wears a wedding band and an engagement ring and her nails are painted pink. The child has his hair tied up in a top ponytail and is looking down out of frame. His arms are raised and bent at the elbows. A beige fabric is folded around like a diaper and features buttons that are blue shaped like cat-heads and yellow manes, as if like lions. The background is different shades of blue with no composition. /End ID]

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Karmanor (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- Karm by his family & friends

Dad by his children

Age- 37 (immortal)

Location- Hearthwood neighborhood, New Olympus

Personality- He's very laid back and effortlessly charming without coming across as cocky. A true gentleman, the values of hospitality, kindness, & hard work is dear to his heart. He's single.

He has the standard abilities of a god. As the demi-god of the harvest his other powers/abilities include limited photokinesis, wheat generation/manipulation, being able to communicate with/shapeshift into farm animals, limited atmokinesis, and edafoskinesis (soil manipulation).

Karmanor is a single father to fraternal twins- his daughter Krysothemis (Kristy) & E.B (Eubouleus II) named after his grandfather. Other members of his family includes his father Eubouleus (god of the swine & ploughing), his stepmother Baubo (who everyone calls Barbie), his half sister Karme (demi-goddess of the harvest), and his niece Britomartis (goddess of mountains, hunting, & fishing nets).

He & his kids live in a large barn style house on a small 10 acre farm in the Hearthwood neighborhood of New Olympus. It's wide and spacious with gambrel roofs, wood siding, & wraparound porch. The flooring inside is cedarwood. A lot of the interior design was done by Barbie. The inside gives off a rustic charm with neutral shades of beige, cream, gray, pastel blue, and mint green, leather furniture, a stone fireplace in the livingroom, wood furniture, & stone finishes in the bathrooms. Various decorative animal horns and antlers are mounted on the walls.

Karmanor is unsure about his maternal parentage- whether his mother was a mortal or dryad. His normal was growing up with his father for the first few years before his half sister came along. It's said that Karmanor's mother died in childbirth.

He's an early riser, starting off the morning at his farm- collecting the laid chicken eggs, milking the cows, & cleaning out the horse stable before his kids are even up.

Karmanor doesn't like talking about the mother of his children, not even to his kids. Their mother was a beautiful dryad named Birdie. One look into her doe shaped hazel green eyes and he was done for! A short while after the twins was born, Karmanor noticed Birdie become emotionally distant to him & the babies. She rarely held, changed, or fed them. One night after the twins' 3rd birthday, with a backpack strapped to her back, Birdie came to him with a document relinquishing her parental rights- with a promise that she'd be back to visit them. Karmanor hasn't seen or heard from her since.

Most days he'll let the kids have cereal or a breakfast bar, but on the weekends, he likes making a HUGE spread for the three of them- buttermilk vanilla spice pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage gravy, buttermilk biscuits, hash browns, and cheesy grits.

Karmanor is fluent in Minoan.

A go-to drink for him is iced tea. He also likes water, orange juice, bourbon punch, beer, lemonade, white wine, watermelon sangrias, & scotch on the rocks. A usual from The Roasted Bean is an olympian sized dark roast coffee (with plenty of sugar).

Being a father is his first and foremost important job to Karmanor. He's actively involved in their lives, teaching them how to cook & tend a farm. Even though his son hasn't gone through puberty yet, Karmanor has taught E.B how to shave and they both ride their horses on the farm or check out a baseball game. His horse's name is Dusty while his son's horse is called Buckeye.

His favorite frozen treat is butter pecan ice cream.

With Kristy, Karmanor and her will have a daddy/daughter date that will usually consist of tea at the Grand Eaglepoint Hotel followed by a trip to the Candycloud cotton candy shop before ending the day at the Pterýgio & Kýlisi bookstore. He knows he overcompensates with her due to her mother not being in her life. Karmanor comforted Kristy when she came crying to him, asking "Why doesn't she want us?"

At The Bread Box, he loves getting the barbeque pulled pork sandwich with a medium potato salad. He also likes the taco salad with extra sour cream and catalina dressing.

He didn't mind taking a backseat in the family business while Karme handled the reigns of The Swinery, the largest meat & cold cut producer in Olympius. All the free time Karmanor has is dedicated to his kids and other pursuits.

Karmanor & his kids often travel to Crete to see the rest of the family. He's not as close to Bri as he'd like, but they've been trying to spend more time together, often by going fishing.

In the pantheon his best friend is Pathos (god of emotion). Their friendship has deepened into a brotherhood, bonding over the fact that they're single fathers. Karmanor is the nonós to Pathos' son Storge. It's also an added bonus that their kids are great friends too! Sometimes Karmanor & the kids will spend time at Pathos' vacation house in Mykonos. They'll often catch sights of E.B playing with Storge in the backyard or Kristy doing some dance challenges with Philia (goddess of friendship) and Xenia (goddess of hospitality).

Before Birdie, Demeter (goddess of the harvest & agriculture) was the first women he'd been with. They had a casual on/off relationship before they mutually decided to end things romantically. They held on to their friendship and he's even friends with her former fiance Iasion.

Cyamites (god of beans) is a close friend of the family.

Karmanor's also friends with Pherusa (goddess of substance & farm estates); she's Kristy's noná, Apólafsi (god of enjoyment), his sister's boyfriend Michalis (Mike), Záchari (god of confectionery), Agathodaemon (Daemon) (god of vineyards, grainfields, & luck), Triptolemus (god of farming), Priapus (god of fertility, vegetable gardens, livestock, sexuality, & masculinity), Trochilus (god of the mill wheel), Eunostos (goddess of the flour mill), Promylaia, Hestia (goddess of the hearth), Thilasmós (goddess of nursing), Kópros (god of manure & excrement), Pan (god of the wild, satyrs, shepherds, & rustic music), Livádi (goddess of meadows), Chiron (the immortal centaur), Eudaimonia (goddess of happiness), Kéfi (goddess of mirth), and Epimetheus (Titan god of afterthought).

Karmanor was the official mentor to Deipneus (god of cooking & breadmaking).

Lately he's been getting into competitive bull riding. Karmanor's competed in a few competitions in Thebes & Crete- winning 1st place in a few! He's also a fan of the Olympic Derby. There are plans for he and Epimetheus to attend the hippocampus race portion next summer.

Karmanor's favorite dessets include peach cobbler, Barbie's buttermilk pie, his sister's peach bourbon upside-down bundt cake, his kids' hummingbird brownies, & his dad's kourabiedes.

He was once in a photoshoot for a special issue of Kytheria magazine focusing on the male deities of the pantheon. Karmanor's section was a photo of him in a wheat field wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and a pair of cowboy boots, a wheelbarrow expertly placed in front of his privates.

Karmanor often says that he's too busy to pursue a romantic relationship, but that's not true. He's conflicted about his growing feelings and attraction to Thilasmós. Karmanor doesn't want her to feel uncomfortable, jeopardize their friendship, or get hurt himself. Things shifted when they went line dancing at a bar in Naxos. He pretended to be her boyfriend to curb the advances of a drunk patron who was flirting with her.

There's a pair of jeweled cowboy boots and hat that Kéfi bought for him as a gift.

He has a wicked talent with the harmonica and acoustic guitar!

In his free time Karmanor enjoys spending time with his kids, cooking, bull riding, surfing, horseback riding, football (soccer), playing pool, archery, reading, basketball, hunting, gardening, and sunbathing.

Some of his favorite foods include his dad's pot roast with roasted potatoes, his sister's corn pudding, Barbie's spicy barbeque ribs, and chicken fried steak with rice & gravy.

"Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds you plant."

[basicbeigecapybara]

My entire account and everything I have written so far.

just downloaded GTA four. hope it is any good.

#gta iv

basicbeigecapybara

I think I'm addicted to this app

I feel that making long posts like mine is necessary and I have no idea why.

basicbeigecapybara

Analyzation of the Interior of a 2018 Toyota Highlander

Now, today we will be talking about the Interior 2018 Toyota Highlander. Let's begin.

Now first I want to take a look at the splendid window covers. These sun-blocking nets are built with the car. results may vary considering which type you have. however, they can be used as privacy protections, or just simply blocking the sun from your eyes. you simply pull up the little notch at the bottom of your window and hook it onto the top. the window shades are very hard to see through guaranteeing privacy for the user.

second, I would like to take a look at the AC system. This AC setting is life-changing. from seat warmers to cold air. there is a seat-warming option, but sadly only in the front but we will explain why it's like that later. The seat warmers heat up fast and get very comfy on a cold day. not to mention the AC unit. The AC is available and adjustable in the 2nd and 1st rows. you can also change how fast the air blows, and you can even change which direction it goes. this is very useful for cold or hot days.

Now like I said, here is why there aren't seat warmers on the second row. the seats can move around, so if you want to lie down just pull the lever next to the seat and you can fall asleep. there is also a THIRD row, you can have the third-row seats folded down if you want more trunk space, or you can have them up. this car can hold a maximum of 8 people if you're taking a long trip with your friends.

Now let's talk more about the design. which is one of the best parts of the car. The seats are made of fine long-lasting leather that is in a beige color. the doors are black leather with a wood design for the handles. the wood design is very smooth and definitely very well made. most highlanders contain a bar at the roof where you can strap in your bike if your thinking about having an adventure.

This car is a personal favorite starting at around $50,000 and it is worth the price, I hope you enjoyed another one of my summaries that I make when I get bored, and thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this nonsense.

#toyota#highlander#cars#carreview

basicbeigecapybara

My Opinion Regarding Red Dead Redemption 2 [SPOILER]

Today, I will be summarizing the well-known game "RDR2" Also known as "Red Dead Redemption" including its features and so on. now I must say that I am very fond of the graphics in this game, far better than most Rockstar games which already gives it a bonus. Plus, the nature is very catching and realistic as it has caves, mountains, rivers, canyons, deserts, Etc. There is so much more to explore and that is why I love it most. The plot of the whole story mode is complex, but as you progress, it gets more understandable, especially during the middle stages. Near the end of the game, you start to figure out more secrets behind the characters, which finishes most of the plot however, you will start to notice the downfall of the characters and how they worsen over time. once the game is completed, you can find their graves hidden throughout the map which gives a nostalgia effect as well, you can also even find some of the characters who had managed to survive through the story, as well as side characters. The NPCs are very interactive, and you can even talk to them, antagonize them, or rob them. and also throughout the game, you can treat the NPCs nicely and it will give you good effects in the later stages of the story. It shows a nice feeling of vengeance, for example: when you help the native Americans with rivalries and whatnot. you are in big battles defending them which gives off a sense of retaliation. this motivates the user to fight harder in the missions because most likely the user knows about the fact that the US beats the natives during colonization. so the user wants to kill as much of the enemy as they can, wishing the natives had won. this can hype up the user and motivate them. the game introduces you to different side characters, such as the "Neanderthal" "Feral Human" and many others. this game also has an eerie side. as it introduces the "Strange Man" who is known for his black top hat and mystical ways, and I am only getting started. there is the Aberdeen Pig Farm where you are introduced to a very overweight man and his sister. you will walk into their house and be offered food. once you accept the food you will then be told about how it used to be a pig farm and how their parents died and shortly after you will then be poisoned and greeted in the middle of nowhere, and all of your stuff is stolen. you can come back to the house later and get it back. there will also be strange dead bodies throughout the map including serial killers. the game can get very gruesome as proven. You can find clues about the serial killers and eventually find out where they're hiding out. once you walk in, very terrible things will appear and he will try to make you a victim, however, luckily enough you can escape and you can then report him to the "law" and get money for it. plus, there are other bounty missions you can do for a good price such as a man who claims to be a healer and actually gives out poison, or a psychotic woman who lures men in and kills them. and there are even different gangs throughout the game, like the "Moonshiners" or the "Skinner Brothers" and even the "Night folk" Something I am also very happy about is the hunting. there is a bunch of different animals you can encounter and hunt. there are also Legendary Animals that can be found around the map, you can hunt them and sell them, or make clothes out of them. One thing I don't really like about the game is the stupidity of the NPCs like when they can fight you all they want and not get in trouble. but if you punch once, the law will arrest you. I hope that my summary was a pleasure to read (if anyone actually reads these which I'm pretty sure they don't) And if you stuck around and read my true speech of boredom then thank you.

#red dead 2 gameplay#boredom

basicbeigecapybara

How To Effectivley Defend Your Home Against An Opposition.

Today, we will be learning how to effectivley defend against home invasion. All you need, is a 12 gauge shotgun, an M84 Flashbang Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ suace, and a 20,000 kilogram block of solid uranium 235. We first must create a diversion that will distract the assailant such that you have an opening for tactical withdrawl. it is for this reason that we have Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ suace. using your buff, well toned arm. lob the BBQ suace out your window at exactly 100 MPS and at an angle directly parallel to the outside ground. This gives you exactly 1.11 seconds to escape the vicinity before the BBQ suace lands on the ground, and explodes into a highly-lethal fireball, as all nearby objects are incinerated by a common household condiment burning at 6,000 degrees Celcius. A single tear escapes your eye as you realize you will probolably never taste the sweet nectar of Sweet Baby Ray's ever again. not after the Sigma variant cuased the downfall of the BBQ supply chain. a great regime whose unwavering glory surpassed that of the Roman Empire at its peak. but right now more important matter are at hand. you will never forget the sacrifce the sweet baby rays made to save your own life and entrust in your hands the future of human civilization. there is no turning back now. you must now take action and seek immediate vengeance. Carefully breach your bedroom door with a 12 guage shotgun. and clear the outside area with an M84 flashback. then, quickly advance towards the nearest exit making turns to confuse the enemy, for if you dont know your next move, neither do they finally, once you are outside, it is time to unleash the fury of a 20,000 kilogram solid block of subcritical Uranium 235 with your house surrounded it only makes sense to make one last stand for the survival of human civilization. this is what you have been preparing for assuming that you have not been lacking, you should easily be able to replicate the compression affects of chemically feuled implosion assembly nuclear weapon explosive lens, with your bare hands to force the fissel uranium into supercriticality, cuasing an expotential growth of nuclear chain reactions that realeases 226 billion joules of energy into the surrounding enviroment. but this is not a tragic case of self sacrifice, because you took a swig of sweet baby rays before running out of the house. you will not go gentle into this goodnight, for souped up on the sweet nectar of God. You are now essentially a highly lethal superhuman nuclear recoil gun. no mortal shall oppose you now. for you have ascended to a plane of existence touched by no other living man. your opponents will not even realize what is happening, before a beam of thistle material transfers 500 Kilotons worth of TNT through their chest, killing them instantly.

#home security#barbecue#uranium

basicbeigecapybara

The Gettysburg Adress

Since it is currently presidents day, Here is the entire Gettysburg Adress.

"Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate-we can not consecrate-we can not hallow-this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion-that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain-that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.

[gigikthings]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vtg '50s Floral Hat.

[thejaipurloom]

Top Indian Womens Fashion 2024 - All You Need to Know About Fashion Trends - The Jaipur Loom

It's the fifth month of 2024 already! Our minds and hearts are filled with planning the next trip, wedding clothing, office look, party look, and much more. While trends change, certain fashion statements stay a little longer.

A more easygoing, playful, and sustainable fashion trend is in store for 2024. Of course, fashion will always veer between the newest trends and traditional looks, particularly in the case of Indian attire.

The majority of Indian fashion designers focus on the skill of combining old Indian traditions and artistry with modern designs and cuts. So, combining contemporary style with Indian culture is another theme in this year's fashion expectations.

With The Jaipur Loom, let's explore the major trends expected to rule Indian womens fashion this year.

Indian Womens Fashion Classic and Contemporary

Sarees and Indian fashion go hand in hand. Some of the most well-liked designers believe that people will start to focus more on recycling clothing. Indian sarees, salwar kameez, Anarkali outfits, and reusable lehengas are famous for brides, bridesmaids, and modern ladies. This will be the initial phase of minimalism.

Kalidars, gowns, palazzo suits, lehengas, jackets, kurtas, sharara suits, trademark blouses, and dupattas complement diverse color schemes and occasions. Vibrant pink, sorbet, and blush tones of fuchsia. The most popular colors are beige-gold, powder blue, lilac, grey-blue, and metallic gold and silver.

Indian Womens Fashion Bold & Bright Shades

Vibrant, vivid, and elegant colors are returning. The cheerful colors have changed significantly, as 2024 looks more hopeful than ever and prepares for a better life. The style also features airy trousers and flowing kurtas in bold colors. But Indian sarees have a unique place for celebrations. Sarees will always be in style when worn with long-sleeved embroidered blouses. The palette is dominated by pink, yellow, and red tones, but one can also pick earthy and shimmering colors. Indian kurtis can be an excellent choice for 2024. Buy Indian short kurti  online from The Jaipur Loom.

Indian Womens Fashion Trends 2024, Style, Color, and Pattern Trends

Everything you need to know about the upcoming New Indian womens fashion trends in 2024. Some Indian fashion trends have continued to evolve for a few years now. But there have always been variations from these trends.

Metallic Trend in Indian Womens Fashion 2024

You can't ignore the vivid and dazzling metallic trend of the year. Most mention the lovely saree and lehenga gorgeous Gota patti in loud and large designs on soft materials. To summarize, you should follow the metallic trend in Indian fashion for ladies.

Styling a Gorgeous Saree is a fresh take on the saree that will be popular in 2024 for party and wedding attire.

Pick the metallic color suit style in a loose-fitting, aline kurta with little embellishment on the border, trousers, and dupatta. This is a new Punjabi suit trend in metallic color this year.

Winter weddings are often perfect for pairing a fluffy lehenga with a full-sleeve choli. The metallic lehenga is made in a silvery shade of glazed satin or net and embellished with sequins or zari yarn to wear to a wedding this year.

Long Shrugs and Ethnic Jackets Trend

The jacket or shrug style is an additional edge and style popular in Indian clothing. These are the trendy accessories that look best worn with more flair. The newest Indian womens fashion trend in jackets is embellished, either short or mid-length, and includes zari, beads, or zardozi designs. Reversible quilted jackets are also a great option to  buy quilted jacket for women this year.

Different Styles of Ethnic Jackets

The trendy short-cropped ethnic boho jackets, similar to the short structured jackets, look fantastic with Indo-Western attire. They also look good worn over sarees, and these days, bustiers with short, embroidered jackets like these are popular lehenga designs.

Several types of long jackets have different materials and embroideries, such as vests or overlay designs. The latest winter wedding collection features these long velvet vest jackets over anarkalis and lehengas.

Long capes and shrugs overlong. These clear net, georgette, and organza fabrics include striking beads and sequins. Gives the Indian clothing a preppy twist.

Pakistani Salwar: A Trend to Follow

Some of the most popular Indian womens fashions are Pakistani dress patterns, such as the Punjabi suit, which have continued to impact Indian culture ever after the split. Since then, they have remained popular, and this season, we are witnessing yet another notable salwar trend from the Pakistani fashion industry.

The straight salwar, or Pakistani salwar, became popular in the Indian womens fashion industry a few years ago and is now returning. A fresh take on the Punjabi suit style has a salwar gently gathered at the hem, finished with a lace border to complete the ensemble.

2024's Cool and Stylish Fabrics Indian Womens Fashion: Comfortable with a Modern Twist

What you wear in 2024 can be both fashionable and fabulous! Choose fabrics with unique designs if you want to seem stylish yet comfortable. Mesh, silk, lace, and fabrics with unique patterns can keep you cool while bringing a little drama to your Indian outfit. Indian designer suits are in trend now. The Jaipur loom offers various options to buy designer suit sets online now!

You know what's having a major comeback? Net fabrics! They've been back in style for a while, having peaked roughly ten years ago. There will be various clothes, including lehengas, shararas, and net sarees. Thus, 2024 is all about dressing comfortably yet stylishly, whether you choose unique printed materials or opt for the stylish comeback of net clothing.

[becoration]

How to recreate the tranquility and freshness of the sea in your home

Post has been published on becoration

How to recreate the tranquility and freshness of the sea in your home

If you dream of bringing the serenity and freshness of the sea into your home, you’re in the right place. We’re here to guide you on how to recreate that feeling of calm and well-being inspired by the ocean in every corner of your house. You can create this ambiance in your home with minimal effort, so don’t miss out on the secrets!

### Color Palette

The first step to recreating the tranquility of the sea in your home is to choose a color palette that reflects the shades of the ocean and the beach. Opt for soft and soothing tones like light blue, white, beige, and gray, which evoke the freshness and serenity of the sea.

Paint your home’s walls with these colors or add touches of them in the decor through pillows, curtains, rugs, and accessories. This color palette will help you create a peaceful and harmonious environment that instantly transports you to the coast.

### Natural Elements

To capture the essence of the sea in your home, incorporate natural elements and organic textures that evoke sand, rocks, and driftwood. Use materials like recycled wood, wicker, rattan, and linen in your home decor to add warmth and authenticity.

Moreover, you can add decorative elements like seashells, polished stones, driftwood, and green plants to bring a natural and fresh touch to your space. These elements will create a connection with nature and help you recreate the feeling of being by the sea.

### Fresh Scents That Relax You

Scents play an important role in creating a relaxing and fresh atmosphere in your home. Use candles, aroma diffusers, or air fresheners with fragrances inspired by the sea, such as sea breeze, sea salt, jasmine, or coconut, to fill your space with fresh and relaxing aromas.

These scents will instantly transport you to the coast and help you disconnect from daily stress while enjoying the tranquility of your home.

### Sea-Inspired Decor

To complete the feeling of being by the sea in your home, incorporate sea-inspired decorative elements into your space. Hang paintings or photographs of sea landscapes on the walls, place seashells in clear glass vases as a centerpiece, or hang decorative fishing nets on the walls to add a nautical touch to your decor.

Additionally, you can add details like cushions with fish prints, pillows with maritime motifs, or lamps shaped like seashells to complete the marine atmosphere.

### Soft and Natural Lighting

Lighting plays a key role in creating a relaxing and cozy atmosphere in your home. Opt for soft and natural lighting that mimics sunlight filtered through the waves of the sea. Use lamps with white fabric shades or frosted glass shades to softly and evenly diffuse light in your space.

Maximize natural light during the day by keeping curtains open and allowing sunlight to enter your home. Soft and natural lighting will help you create a warm and inviting atmosphere that encourages you to enjoy the tranquility of the sea in your own home.

### Relaxation and Meditation Spaces

Dedicate a corner of your home especially designed for relaxation and meditation, where you can disconnect from the outside world and connect with yourself. Place plush cushions, a soft blanket, and a green potted plant to create a cozy and peaceful space where you can sit to read, meditate, or simply relax.

You can also add sea-inspired decorative elements, such as scented candles, seashells, or polished stones, to create a relaxing and harmonious atmosphere. This space will allow you to find peace and serenity amidst daily hustle and help you recharge with renewed vigor for the day.

### Constant Maintenance

It’s important to continuously maintain and renew the sense of freshness and tranquility of the sea in your home. Regularly dedicate time to clean and tidy your space, removing any elements that may interfere with the relaxing atmosphere you’ve created.

Consider making periodic changes in the decor, such as changing the cushions, adding new plants, or updating the lighting, to keep your home fresh and welcoming. Continuous maintenance and renewal will help you preserve the sense of peace and serenity of the sea in your home and enjoy a space that makes you feel like you’re always on vacation.

Referrer: Decoración 2.0, decoration news in Spanish

[almiqatshadenet]

1. White:

Reflectivity: White shade nets reflect sunlight more effectively than darker colors, making them suitable for reducing heat buildup and maintaining cooler temperatures in shaded areas.

Light Diffusion: White shade nets provide uniform light diffusion, promoting even distribution of light for optimal plant growth and photosynthesis.

Visibility: White shade nets offer higher visibility and brightness, enhancing visibility in shaded areas and reducing the need for artificial lighting.

2. Blue:

Aesthetic Appeal: Blue shade nets add a decorative touch to outdoor spaces and landscaping projects, complementing water features, pools, or coastal themes.

UV Protection: Blue shade nets provide UV protection and reduce glare, making them suitable for recreational areas, such as swimming pools, playgrounds, and outdoor seating areas.

3. Yellow/Orange:

Insect Repellent: Yellow and orange shade nets are known to repel certain insects, such as aphids and whiteflies, helping to protect crops from pest infestations.

Pollination: These colors can attract pollinators, such as bees and butterflies, benefiting flowering plants and enhancing biodiversity in agricultural and garden settings.

4. Red:

Promotes Flowering: Red shade nets are believed to stimulate flowering and fruiting in certain plant species by enhancing the red/far-red light ratio received by plants.

Temperature Regulation: Red shade nets absorb more solar radiation and may increase temperatures slightly compared to other colors, which can be beneficial for promoting growth in cooler climates or during colder seasons.

5. Silver/Aluminum:

Heat Reflection: Silver or aluminum-coated shade nets reflect a significant amount of sunlight and heat, providing effective heat reduction and temperature control in shaded areas.

Light Intensity: These nets can create dappled light patterns, which are desirable for certain plants that prefer moderate to low light intensity.

6. Multicolored:

Decorative Effect: Multicolored shade nets featuring patterns or gradients can add visual interest and enhance the aesthetic appeal of outdoor spaces, gardens, and architectural structures.

Customization: Custom-designed multicolored shade nets allow for creative expression and branding opportunities in commercial and residential projects.

When selecting a shade net color beyond the traditional options of green, beige, and black, it’s essential to consider factors such as sunlight intensity, heat reduction requirements, aesthetic preferences, and specific plant needs.

[kahztiy]

YD6~09 Janine rueing Gamble string to Jacqueline

The following week, I walked into the gleaming marble, turning toward the letterbox bank, incorporating the directory panel to press the button. Janine’s sweet voice croaked over the intercom when offside, the door buzzes. I step over to the elevator’s door, press the interim plate-glass door swing back. I stand in the cabin, wondering about Janine’s changed ritual. The doors clearing a courtyard’s void to rooftops amidst dreary rear brick towering facades, slew eyesight left in my stride but heading right. Prolong the corridor’s glass curtain. A few bathroom windows farther, to incremental door head plaques numbers. Under “24,” I sought the brick reveal for a button, instead discovered a door jamb crack. I pose fingertips on the door leaf, to a phantom hinging opens, to pursue Janine’s reaching out distant voice. I troll the narrow entrance hall, latching the door behind, paced toward a room clearing across partial beige lounge suits to a distant net-curtain shining streetlight. 

I’m doubling back as in the corner of my eyes, I’m encountering an inviting door ajar. I’m cowering from the intimacy, but my hefty ego permitting. I creep, encountering what I expected, a duvet draping off a bed’s corner. My guts arouse meshing into an entanglement. Around the door a double bed expands a muddled eiderdown, meeting deep under cover Janine’s stalking eyes, gazing, to say. “I’m sick.” I daren’t spiral away.

Led into chatting, I’m standing beside Janine, in an admirable sad little voice, saying. “My grandfather was a chemist...” as though her parents grew in the family business, from finding time for a child, growing up without having parents. Arouse the Hydra of my mind, into her adolescence soul behind the facades, growing up with her grandparents. She adds. “In Gresswold.” Flash to a bird’s-eye view of a foremost suburb alongside Louis Botha Avenue, the route Igor and I rode on our bicycle from home, in Kyalami to the heart of Johannesburg. The little girl capering amid a dwarf face brick house to rambling green flocculent branches looming a street leafy canopy swell shade multiple valleys and ridges of terracotta tiled roofs. 

The grandfather knew Janine’s mood swings for a month’s allotment to his grandchild, and in and out of money, Janine once again, seated abreast in the darkness of the passenger seat. She’s talkative, facing the car’s headlights to the roadway rolling out of darkness. While Janine says. “My grandfather owned the land in Meyerton.” I can seem to place the gentle bushy grassland’s waves, scattered boulders rolled out of the Ice age. I’m imagining the countryside from outer space, view a trail of glowing fireflies, until a bottleneck at the gateway to the casino. Road signs sprung in rapid succession. The starry horizon arouses Magaliesburg, then Rustenburg, to the glowing dome, the gateway through a glittery crown and park the car around the corner.

Janine forges her way out of darkness, to pass a pool of glitters and clatters, behind obsessive men and women at One Arm Bandits, and in mind I ruminated. ‘_Get ready. The night is going to be long! _’ After the channeling mirrors, The ease at imagining her phantom, as she passes the aisle to bare gambling tables, after mentioning. “I was a croupier.” Her slender nimble fingers dealing and flipping cards through the night, collecting bets, and paying out. She’s home entering the Privé Saloon, distancing and disappearing from the central aisle, swallowed by the shadowy clustered heads. I roamed around men’s round shoulders and stern faces, to pause at the blackjack table. With a woman amid gamblers, after rounds and again the croupier deals cards, racks in and pays, dubious I’m entering the game. 

The hydra in me, with eyes on every player, feeling invisible. I crawl toward the vacant chair, to sit while the home goes on, sifting two-fifty Rand banknotes toward the croupier. Reminding myself. ‘_Try consuming far into the awaking day._’ The man’s fingers, from a penguin suit sleeve, swipe my banknote off the green mat. In a ritual fans the notes on his play apron, with a spatula slotted away, wipes his hands, spider crawl fingers the tray of chips out, re-count in front of me, removing his hand, I pick one, placing my bet.

After an enjoyable run, lassitude rose in me, sweep an eyesight away from the croupier’s hand racking in my last betted chip, rising from my chair, in quest. ‘_What will you do with time_?’ Spiraled to pace away, spot across the central aisle the towering figure zip, In front of the Baccarat crowded table, I anchor on the animation, lifts to hand a filled glass off the plateau waitering. Permeate hunched back languid men around the roulette table. I anchored onto the spirited waiter’s retrieve, a long stretch toward the hall’s nook, edging the far bright serving hatch. 

After I stepped onto the platform, to sink into the box couch’s soft cushions, with a foot swing to rest cross-legged. Pompous with a toe in the air over the coffee table, but to sight no one was around. In my comfort, glitched to mind, doodling a waitress’ expression near the saloon’s entrance doors. She’s lip talking across a breezeway’s brightness behind the servicing counter, to a young waiter, who shoulders the opposing serving hatch’s reveal — At imagining Igor’s first job waitering in Johannesburg’s exclusive President Hotel — Telling myself. ‘_For the glittery milieu?_’ The waitress spinning away, and left behind a lady draping in the corner of a lounging chair — out of another age, the 1930s posing for a photo, as she reposes an elbow on the armrest. Her evening skirt draping off her prominent knee, to a slipper’s pointing toe, in the air over a Japanese low coffee table.

I allowed the woman her privacy, but from my eyes corner, I glimpse, to glance, thoughtless my mind huffs and puff I distanced my mind not so innocent, from the, seven-year’s accreting rigmarole of body changes, past a girl’s fourteenth, puzzled twenty-first peering for her zodiacal soul, I burst, saying. “I’ve come with a compulsive gambler.”

The woman’s snake tong, spitting at me. “Are you chaffing me?”

‘_Sorry,_’ I shrug, raising my palms, saying. “No! I’m sorry to trouble you.” I shift to gaze into the breezing light to the catering wings, shadow a hand leaving a drink on a tray, to waiters circling by, while holding my breath from speaking.

The woman’s leisure in the corner of her chair, dawdling, then breaks to her silence, saying. “Me too.” Raising eyesight’s sweep offside across the couch vacant seats, shaking a blanket across the floor, telling. ‘_Somewhere there!_’ I’m skeptic to let my mind interface my brain scattering. In my silence, her stern expression melts into a seductive smile, repeating. “He’s somewhere there!” 

I flounder, a haphazard warning to myself. ‘_Don’t start with her now_!’ but succumb to our lingering silence across the coffee table. I’m saying. “Sorry, but what’s your birth sign?” Without a qualm, girlish she says. “I’m an Aries.” The Fire in this character spring to mind, but the animal’s grueling lock horns fight, the ram’s hooves sticking to craggy cliffs. I dare ask, “And, ‘_Do you know_,’ your Chinese sign — or, your birthdate?”

The woman, without qualm, says. “I’m born in Germany.” She gives further details, but my mind climbs the sun’s spiraling staircase. I tread past the zodiacal moons, to the branches of annual Chinese animals. Landing a twelve-year cycle, to 1977. Counted the years to Gavin’s birthday year, saying. “You’re a Snake.” She raises eyebrows. ‘_What does that say about me_?’ I’m imagining a neighbor’s son, the fire in the boy’s pants, the Ram bound to repeat hurting himself. At imagining while talking, the extreme symbiotic characters two headed Hydra, her Aries launching a shield upfront, constant conjugating with her genies’ cold-blooded Snake — reminding me of Grand-mother and father-Somers in Goma, freaked out, finding a lazying snake coiled under the terrace bench. 

The Ram in the woman waken, rises to her feet as the lights dimming to surges, transient and percussive brownout the gaming saloon. She stood in front of her chair, hesitant to pace away. She lingers in the persistent transient brownouts, from turning away toward the exit. Until I rose to my feet, glancing back into the saloon’s dark depth. ‘_ Nothing moved — Strange?_’  

The call-out for cleaners to storm in, with brownouts awakening ceiling spotlights, flute peripheral light beams colonnade. But nothing happened as the saloon nods brownouts, but the woman reluctant to converge with the darkness’ herding keeps her stance, before a reluctant turn away pacing toward the platform’s handrail hatchway. Her eyesight meets a stampede crossing by the hatchway, storming the double door out. She fussed lingering at the step from the platform, eyesight offside corner by the handrail. Innocence in her perplexed eye fixation, paused. 

I paced out from the left of the coffee table’s passage, attempting to locate Janine in the straggling crowd, pacing toward the hatchway facing the woman as she lingers at the hatchway. Words roll over my lips, saying. “May I have your phone number?” in our midst my wallet’s flap flip over the back of my hand. To the woman’s my Seven-Star Diary exposes an outdated day’s blank page. She seized my wallet and ballpoint pen. Her fingers return my wallet, as she descends a step, squeezing into the shadows carried away by the streaming crowd. I returned my eyesight to the page, let to read, in capital print. ‘_I am. . ._’ Calligrapher a cherry, in her fantasy a circle dotting the ‘i,’ double line spell “Jacqueline.” Her phone number underscored.

My trailing eyesight reached out into the straggling people, tucking my wallet in my back pocket, when Janine arouse from the darkness, storming up to the railing, waving me down, ‘_I’m here. What you’re waiting for — Let’s go_?’ As I descend the platform alongside Janine, to a trickle of people. I catch the adjacent door leaf swinging in my face, emerging to zombies against a sky’s awakening distant light. From the evanescent distancing figures in shadows of dotted soft waning lanterns lights. 

Janine’s eye picks among a few far scattered sleek glittery undulations in the expanding bare parking lot’s asphalt, heading straight for, faithful in the crispy and silent twilight, the lone Mercedes. We approach, contented to be the passenger, splits early from the tail contours for the car’s flank. As over the rooftop, Janine stands by, the doors sigh and pop the sill button, to meet again inside with closing doors. I tweak the ignition key, to an engine purr. Creep feeble headlights en route, to drop Janine off, to a midmorning arrival at her apartment building’s lobby.

[samkkshopping]

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