#bridesmaid kit

[asofttouchbymaria]

My Sweet #bridetobe Sherron Wedding Day💋

Wearing the plum colors to enhance her natural beauty💋

#asofttouchbymaria

#longislandmakeup

#airbrush #makeupandbeauty #makeuplife #videoshoot #crew

#nycartist #longislandmua #instabeauty #events #mua #makeupartist #ootd #ootdindo #makeup#makeupartistonlocation #production #makeupartistlongislandny #commercial #bestmakeupartistonlongisland #freelancemakeupartist

#makeupartistonlocation #nassau #LongIsland #NassauCounty #SuffolkCounty #RockvilleCentre #Hempstead #Babylon #Oceanside #Baldwin #Freeport #Lynbrook #EastRockaway #ValleyStream #Malverne #FranklinSquare #GardenCity #Queens #Bellmore #manhasset #northshore #howardbeach #Hewlett #Plainview #roslyn #FloralPark #longbeach #lidobeach #woodmere #cedarhurst

www.asofttouchbymaria.com

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[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 13

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I wake up – still on the couch – to the blaring of my alarm at 6:30am, feeling a sense of deja vu. I curse myself for even beginning a fitness routine, even though it’s only been one day. But then I remember I have the opening shift today, and I’m actually thankful for the distraction. I quickly shove the half read and now slightly crumpled papers back in the envelope and into my backpack along with a pen. Now short on time, I slip into the first pair of clean clothes I can find and leave without breakfast. After impatiently waiting for the elevator for approximately 10 seconds I sprint down the stairs and all the way down the street to the cafe. 

When I get to the door, the sign’s already flipped and there’s a lineup at the counter. I dump my bag and don my apron as quickly as possible while apologising profusely to Stewie who’s taking orders.

“Just get to work, the order’s are stacking up already.”

I do as I’m told and start rapidly making coffees, fancy hot cocoas and plating and heating treats from the display. I hand off the finalised orders to my coworker who had been rapidly cleaning the kitchen after Stewie’s busy morning. Through fractured conversations between orders I find out that the line up started earlier than usual after word had gotten out that a celebrity had dined here before Christmas. So far though, everyone seems oblivious that I’m the woman in the photo, or if they know they are just shrugging it off as me doing my job and serving him. I’m just thankful for the lack of probing and focus on turning out order after order.

Despite bringing the paperwork with the intention of reading and signing it during my break, with the influx of fans around me think better of it. Instead, I keep my head down and focus on just getting some food into my stomach during my break. After lunch I prepare to go home, when my coworker reminds me, I promised to work a double to swap my New Year’s Eve shift. I sigh, but nod, remembering the deal I made weeks prior. I retie my apron and set about delivering orders to tables. A few keen-eyed fans recognise me from the photo but to my pleasant surprise they just ask about what he was like and what drink he had. I claim to not remember as I serve so many people, but of course I remember every detail of that day, how could I forget? 

After successfully evading questions all day and serving at least twice the normal number of customers, I’m utterly exhausted as I flip the sign. Yet, I push it aside to clean the whole cafe till it shines, still feeling guilty for being late and not helping with the early influx.

Needless to say, the paperwork is still burning a hole in my back and mind when I finally get home well after dark. Even so, I know I don’t have time tonight now. I need to spend the little remaining energy to completely finalise the plans for the Bachelorette party tomorrow night. I pull all the sashes, the dressup bridal tiara and plans out of the cupboard and lay them out on the coffee table. I organise everything in individual party bags; one for each bridesmaid and a special one for the bride herself. Each bag is complete with a sash, personalised hangover kit, and monogrammed cup in each lady’s favourite colour, along with the prepaid entry wristbands to a Moulin Rouge themed bar across town. The bride’s bag has all of that plus the tiara and a necklace with her birth stone and Future Mrs. Everhart on it. The whole event with all the gifts have me set back at least a few months in afterpay expenses – not to mention the drinks I’ll undoubtably end up buying on the night – but I know it will all be worth it when I see Stella’s face. She’s done so much for me, it’s finally my turn to attempt to return the favour. It’s after midnight by the time everything is completely ready to go. 

Knowing I’ll be out well after it crosses into the new year, I force myself to push aside everything else and get as much sleep as I can, but not before deleting that exercise alarm. I figure that until I can afford to factor in a gym membership, I can be content with taking the stairs – which I already do most days – and being on my feet all day at the cafe. I shake my head at myself; already throwing away resolutions and it’s not even the new year yet.

It's well after nine when I wake up, which is the latest I’ve slept in, in a long time, but I know I needed it. I spend what’s left of the morning going through the NDA and finally sign it. I’m about to send a text to Jensen telling him as much along with an apology, when Stella calls. I know she took a half day today and tomorrow off completely to enjoy tonight, so I just know her excitement levels are through the roof. I answer.

“Hey bride-to-be! Ready to party tonight?”

“So ready! You coming over beforehand? Since you’ve kept it all a secret I need help with what to wear!”

“Always planned to. Uber is booked from your place after all. We’re all meeting there for predrinks and then heading out, sorry I didn’t ask, but I knew you’d be fine with it. I’ll head over soon. Nick’s Buck’s is tonight too right?”

“For sure! Sounds perfect! And yep! Though, knowing him I think it’ll be a pretty chill night. Mine better not be though, it is New Year’s Eve after all!”

“We’re going all out, don’t you worry! You’re gonna love it!”

“The other girls on board?”

“100 per cent! They love it as much as I do, and I much as I know you’re going to. Now stop fishing for hints! I’ll see you soon!” I hang up before she can try to push any further. I look around for something big enough to fit the party bags in as well as my outfit for tonight. After looking everywhere I settle on the box from Jensen. I rip off the postage label to avoid questions if the other girls see it and then take out the dress. I lay it on my bed and then pack everything into the box. 

I manage on the subway with surprising ease, having managed to fit everything in a single box. I mentally thank Jensen for sending it because I really would have struggled otherwise. I sigh, he’s helping me in ways he doesn’t even know and yet I pushed him away. I quickly push away the thought, I can’t afford to think about any of that tonight; my complete focus needs to be on the bride-to-be and ensuring the best Bachelorette party she could ever dream of. 

When I finally get to her place, I can tell she’s over excited because she opens the door before I even get on the porch. She tries to take the box but I hold tight. “Not yet! You have to wait until the others get here! Patience!”

She pouts and I giggle. She lets me in and I place the box down so I can pull her in for a much needed hug. Sticking to – at least some of – my resolutions and determined to make this day completely about her, I don’t say anything, but I relish in her warm comfort. When I pull away I take the box up to the guest room to take away the temptation for her before she drags me into the master suit so I can help pick out her outfit. I’ve been in close contact with the bestman to make special plans, so I know that Nick will be leaving before us, but I still want something that will surely overwhelm him at the end of the night. I’m also looking for something that will match the Moulin Rouge theme without ruining the surprise.

I explore her closet, rifling through her dresses, most of them are business casual, but I know that she’s a partier, so I just have to find those pieces. In hindsight, I probably could have picked her up something from the thriftstore where I got my outfit – which was surprisingly brand-new with the tags still attached – but I knew she’d have something appropriate. After shifting through and discounting her simple little black dresses, maxi dresses and short clubbing dresses I find one that I’ve never seen her wear. I give her a questioning look as I pull out the stunning, red sequined dress with a mesh midrift and slit in the thigh; it’s almost identical to mine except, mine is a deeper shade of maroon and is velvet instead of sequins. I can’t believe the chances. 

“Did someone spill?” I ask as I hold the dress out to her.

“What? No? Is this a hint‽”

“When’d you get this dress then? I don’t remember it?”

“Nick and I planned to go to a fancy dress party a while ago, it was like a gala for a client I was trying to pitch, but that was when I had that terrible chest infection; lost the deal and missed the party…”

“That sucks! Well, tonight’s your chance. This is for sure the one!” I hang it on the back of the ensuite door before she leads me into the ensuite so we can both start doing our hair and make up. I turn on a party playlist to pump up the energy as I help brush and curl her shoulder-length auburn hair. She then returns the favour, curling and putting my hair into a half-up, half-down style with a bun, secured in place with silver and faux-diamonte pins. When I turn around and see her handiwork, I praise myself for buying the tiara, because she truly needs and deserves to stand out. We both then work on the base layers of our own makeup before helping eachother apply the finishing touches. 

Just as we’re almost done, Nick appears in the doorway. “Alright, ladies…Trav’s here, I’m headed out.” He comes closer to Stella and goes to kiss her but she keeps him at an arms reach.

“Don’t mess with the makeup, it’s still setting. I love you, babe. Have fun! Let loose for once!”

He shakes his head at her with a fond smile. “I love you too. I’ll try. All I ask is that you be a little responsible, but have fun.” He leans down and pecks her neck instead, respecting her wishes to not mess the makeup. Then he looks at me, “Look after her.” I nod. Satisfied, he leaves.

I check the time on my phone; half an hour till the bridesmaids arrive. “T-minus 30 minutes! Time to get dressed and accessorise!” I help her slip into her dress carefully so she doesn’t mess up her hair and makeup. She swaps out her stud earrings for a dangly set that pair with a silver diamonte necklace. When she reaches for a sparkly headband I stop her, “I’ve got that covered.”

She sits on the bed to strap on a pair of silver, glittery stilettos and then puts the essentials – lipgloss, ID, money and her phone – in a matching purse before leading me back to the guest room to help me get ready. Her jaw drops when she see me in my dress, the resemblance really is uncanny.

She wolf whistles as she makes me do a spin. “Sexy! Let me take a photo! You have to send this to Jensen!”

“No, come on, tonight’s all about you!”

Despite my protests she takes both my phone and hers and takes photos of us both while I finish getting ready, putting my maroon block heels on, swapping out my jewellery for a fancy silver set my parents got me for my birthday, and then grab the quite pleasantly matching maroon purse I found at the same thrift store as my dress. The final step is to give Stella her tiara, I place it on her head, careful not to catch or mess up her hair. We both take a few more photos in the living room, at the bride-to-be’s insistence until the doorbell rings.

Stella drops everything and runs to the door to welcome in the two other bridesmaids: Felicity and Gabby. They’re both dressed to the nines in slightly revealing short sparkly dresses that resemble flapper dresses, Felicity in Gold and Gabby in a deep blue. I’d associate them a little more with The Great Gatsby but I know they’ll fit right in anyway; I saw that style dress come up when researching and in the movie that Stella and I have watched together numerous times. We all take more photos before I hand out the fancy gift bag. After gushing over everything, Stella pops out the wine and we each enjoy a drink out of the fancy, reusable, personalised cups. We also all put on our sashes and wristbands and take evenmore photos. 

Before long the Uber is beeping out the front. We all pile in, just slightly buzzed, and joke around and converse noisily all the way to the bar. Stella’s jaw drops and she squeals the second she sees Moulin Rouge in flashing lights. “No way!”

“Yes way! I know it’s your favourite,” I tell her. She tackles me in a massive hug the second we step out of the Uber. We then flash your wristbands and ID for the security guard to skip the already growing line. Her excitement is palpable as she takes in actresses and barmaids and men dressed up in themed attires. A few men and a few ladies compliment our outfits as we push through the crowd to get closer to the dancefloor. Felicity disappears to get the first official round of themed cocktails while the rest of us dance and attempt to sing along to a DJ remix of the music from the movie.

After a few drinks I make sure Stella gets a dance with one of the professional performers and take video for her to relive it once the hangover wears off and she can’t remember a thing. The whole night, despite also getting lost in the fun, drinks and atmosphere, I manage to keep an eye on the time. It’s almost 11:30 when I start to try and move the party. I get the confirmation from the bestman that they’re also on the move, and start speeding things up.

“Another round?” Felicity asks loudly but I shake my head firmly and shoot her a warning look, trying to get her attention and remind her of the plan. Eventually she nods in understanding and stands up from the stools where we were resting after hours of dancing.

“Come on girls, let’s go get some air,” I say. Felicity joins me and Gabby finally catches on. Stella whines but obediently stands up.

“You promised me the night wouldn’t end before midnight!” she slurs, “It’s only half past 11.”

“Who said anything about the night ending? I just suggested a change of scenery.”

She huffs as we squeeze through the crowd and out onto the street. I ignore her pouting as I hail a waiting cab and show him the address on my phone, so as not to ruin the surprise for my best friend. My leg bounces to relieve my nerves as the driver swerves through the traffic. I know they’ll love seeing each other, but I also know Nick’ll be concerned about how much she’s drank. I can only hope Travis held up his side of the bargain and helped Nick let loose a little too. After what feels like an eternity of the girls trying to distract Stella, the driver finally pulls a park around the block from our destination at my request. I hope the little walk in the cold night air will help build the suspense and sober Stella up, if only a touch. I pay the driver as everyone gets out. 

We take in all the flashing billboards, advertising all sorts of music, movies and appliances. Despite living in New York for years now, I rarely come into Times Square, except for when I do auditons. Coming from a small rural townin Texas, the packed streets make me feel extra claustrophobic, but I’m willing to push past that tonight for the sake of your best friend. So, I do. The four of us walk among the crowd of people all headed towards the same destination to watch the highly anticipated yearly ball drop. 

Sure, to many it’s just a giant ball sliding slowly down a metal pole, but for many New Yorkers this is a rite of passage. Plus, what better location to secure my best friend her New Years kiss with the love of her life. I couldn’t think of anything she would love more. Thus, were shouldering our way through throngs of sweaty, drunk people – much like ourselves if I’m honest – to find the groom party at the agreed meeting place outside the Disney store.

As soon as we spot the boys, we start pushing into the middle of the closed-off street to get a better view. I watch Stella and Nick run into each other’s arms – or more like drunkenly stumble in Stella’s case – just in time for the countdown to begin. I watch in awe as the crowd calls out, counting down in time with the MC over the loudspeakers. My eyes flick between the ball, the crowd and my best friends. But as the countdown gets to one, there’s only one person on my mind.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy, @winchesterwild78 @kr804573

[evergreensandthunderstorms]

Hey @gatoplanet I’ve been trying to live inside your polycule universe on AO3 and this is what comes of it — brain worms :) your series has been my absolute favorite and this is nowhere close, just inspired by, but I had to share anyways. xo your obsessive faithful commenter azazella99

Lestat’s make up artist is new here.

“I look like a bridesmaid in full glam, ce n’est pas— this is what you call rocker chic?! We have less than ninety minutes to fix—“ Tufts of lurid feather boa fly off Lestat as he shifts into impassioned French.

Celine looks near tears.

“He needs to look messier. Like he got gangbanged after hair and makeup,” Sam interrupts helpfully.

Everyone looks up at that: Daniel from his recline on the chaise, eyebrows raising from behind the latest Rolling Stone; Armand, from his kneel next to the chaise, definitely a violation, but Louis is distracted. Lestat licks his lips, looking at Louis. Celine blushes.

“Thanks, Sam. Celine, I think you’ve done all you can, here. You two take off.” Louis’ voice is low. Maitre, Daddy.

Sam is gone before Louis is done speaking — very in character. Celine fumbles with her kit, sends a few tubes of lip gloss rolling onto the carpet. “That’s fine, honey, you can leave that stuff here. We’ll see you later.” Daniel calls unsubtly from the chaise. He’s sat up, now, a hand resting on Armand’s hair. The girl scurries out of the room.

[haveamagicalday]

Duel of the American Girl Dolls: Food and Drink Accessories (Round 1)

[penvisions]

dev's fave movies

rules: list five of your favorite movies and let your followers decide which vibe fits you best

thank you so much, my lovely kit (@justagalwhowrites) ♡

np tags: @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @tuquoquebrute @evolnoomym @itsokbbygrl

@littlemisspascal @hiddenbabynyc @hier--soir @macfrog @joelsgreys

@jolapeno

[jrob64]

Silly Songs With Killian - a CS Modern AU One-shot

You can blame @sotangledupinit for this silly, but sweet, little story! She posted a prompt on Discord which caused my muse to jump to attention, and I wrote it in two days. If you're not familiar with the Veggie Tales videos, you'll still be able to enjoy this, but do yourself a favor and check out the songs on Spotify here. You don't have to be a kid to enjoy them and I guarantee they'll make you laugh!

Special thanks to Kit for making young Henry look even younger for the pic set, Mary for being my beta, and Krystal for being a second set of eyes for the Silly Songs lyrics and also for the pic set I created. It pays to have wonderful fandom friends!

Summary: After a frustrating and exhausting day, Emma Cassidy is relieved when her little boy, Henry, is entertained by a gorgeous musician at a restaurant, giving her a chance to sit back, relax, and enjoy the music (and the view!) It gets even better when the singer, Killian, sings some of Henry’s favorite Silly Songs from his favorite videos, Veggie Tales. 

Rating: T

Words: 3946

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

*********

It’s been one hell of a day. It wasn’t supposed to be this exhausting, but of course my ex, Neal, had to complicate things.

I was looking forward to going wedding dress shopping with my future sister-in-law Mary Margaret and her other bridesmaids, sipping champagne and giving my input on each of the possibilities. It was going to be so much fun.

And then...remember the saying that was popular many years ago - shit happens? Well, Neal can be used interchangeably with shit - they’re one and the same.

It was his scheduled weekend with our three-year-old, Henry, which was one reason why Mary Margaret chose this day. Then on Friday, almost an hour after Neal was supposed to pick Henry up at my apartment, he sent me a text: Something came up. Can’t make it this weekend. Tell Henry I’m sorry.

Apparently he turned off his phone after sending it, because he didn’t answer any of my increasingly volatile texts - eighteen of them, to be exact - or phone calls. I had to sit Henry in front of the television so I could go into my bedroom to leave some choice words on Neal’s voicemail.

Fortunately (or unfortunately for my sweet little boy) Henry is used to being let down by his father. In the eighteen months since we called it quits, Neal has skipped out on more weekend visits than he’s kept. I guess being a lying piece of shit takes up way too much of his time and he can’t spare any for his son.

Also unfortunately, all of the people who usually babysit for Henry were unable to watch him. Most of them were included in the shopping trip, my brother David was busy because he was painting the living room of the house he and his fiancée just bought, and Ruby’s Granny was off bowhunting with her new beau. (Bowhunting with her beau has been a running joke ever since she left a week ago.)

So instead of enjoying a carefree day of shopping with Mary Margaret, Belle, Ruby and Elsa, I had to keep an active, inquisitive toddler entertained in one bridal shop after another. We were all relieved when he finally fell asleep in the third shop, until the manager woke him up by screeching about how he was going to drool on the green velvet upholstery. That cost her any business she might have had from us (though in all honesty, her gowns were all hideous and looked like something only the Wicked Witch of the West might wear.)

Eventually, Mary Margaret said ‘yes to the dress’ in the fifth shop late in the afternoon, then we all decided to get an early dinner at a nearby restaurant that serves kids’ meals and has outdoor seating. If Henry has to spend one more minute inside today, I think he might have a complete meltdown.

After placing my order and getting Henry situated with the provided coloring sheet and obligatory four crayons, I hear someone speaking into a microphone and look over to see a guy standing on a small stage with a guitar. A very, VERY attractive guy.

“Good evening, everyone,” he says, and my jaw drops at the sound of his British accent. “My name is Killian and I hope you enjoy the music tonight. I do take requests. Feel free to sing along or dance in this nice, open area in front of me.”

“Oh, wow!” Belle gasps. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he, Emma?”

My jaw snaps shut and I turn to look at her. Seeing her sly smile, I teasingly say, “Why are you asking me? We all have eyes, you know.”

“Yes, but we all have significant others, too,” Ruby adds, which is completely unnecessary but, sadly, also completely true.

While my self pity begins to set in, the guy - Killian - strums his guitar and launches into the Eagles classic “Take it Easy”. Henry, who by this point has scribbled all over the coloring sheet, somehow managed to break his crayon into at least four pieces and, judging by the color of his teeth, took a bite of it as well, looks up with bright eyes. Since I allowed him to kneel on a chair instead of trying to strap him into a booster seat, he takes advantage of it and hops down.

Before I can chase after him, he makes a beeline for the open space in front of the admittedly gorgeous singer and begins jumping around in what passes for a three-year-old’s version of dancing. I sigh and start to get up, but Mary Margaret stops me with a hand on my arm. “Let him go. He’s been very good all day and deserves to burn off some energy. Besides, he’s only a few feet away and we can see him clearly from here.”

It doesn’t take much convincing for me to heed her advice. If someone else can entertain Henry for a while, I’m not going to complain.

When the song comes to an end, Killian acknowledges the smattering of applause and plays the extremely recognizable first chords of “All Right Now”. Henry doesn’t miss a beat, throwing himself around like a rag doll while all of us at our table, as well as most of the other diners, laugh delightedly at his exuberance.

By the time Killian is in the middle of his third song, “Old Time Rock and Roll”, our food arrives and I face the dreaded task of dragging my son back to the table to eat. I nibble at my fish and chips until the song ends, then dash to the makeshift dance floor to cajole Henry. When he shows the expected resistance, Killian chuckles and helpfully says, “Go with your mum, lad. I’ll play a slow song that’s not as much fun for dancing.”

True to his word, he croons the song “Everything I Do, I Do It For You” as Henry acquiesces and comes back to his seat to shove French fries into his mouth as fast as possible. It might not be a good song for Henry’s style of dancing, but Killian’s smooth voice singing the beautiful lyrics is sending pleasant chills down my spine.

Another song with a slow tempo follows, during which my little man polishes off his fries. But when Killian starts “Footloose”, all bets are off and Henry is back on the dance floor with a chicken nugget squeezed into both of his chubby fists.

After we finish our meals, Belle, Ruby and Elsa leave to spend the rest of the evening with their boyfriends. Mary Margaret lingers, telling me she’ll stay to keep me company, because she’d rather not have to help David clean up his painting mess. We don’t want to take up a table, so we move to some empty seats along the edge of the patio from where we can still see my little dancing king.

“You’d think his battery would run down soon,” Mary Margaret comments.

“Are you serious? That kid is like the Energizer bunny, plus he’s been cooped up in stuffy dress shops all day. My money is on the singer wearing out before Henry.”

She’s uncharacteristically quiet for several minutes. When she finally speaks, she says quietly, “He really is very handsome and seems like a nice guy.”

Her statement is out of left field and I’m confused. “Who?”

“The singer - Killian,” she clarifies.

I narrow my eyes at her. “What’s your point?”

“No point. I was just making a comment,” she shrugs, all innocence.

I don’t believe her. Mary Margaret is the queen of set-ups and wears the crown proudly. She introduced Belle to Will, Ruby to Jefferson and Elsa, well, she introduced Elsa to Victor, but that didn’t work out very well. Elsa met Graham on her own.

“I’m not looking for someone to date, Mary Margaret. I’m still dealing with my idiot ex and trying to concentrate on raising my son not to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

“I understand, but…”

And it’s at this point I resign myself to the fact she’s going to spout some argument that’s going to weaken my resolve not to date.

“If Henry had a really good male role model in his life, it would help you in raising him to be a gentleman.”

“Seems to me David does a pretty good job of that, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I know,” she sighs, “but between working, getting the house ready and planning the wedding, his time with Henry is very limited.”

“The house will be ready before you get married and the wedding is in less than five months. After the honeymoon, he’ll have more time.”

“Oh, but then we’ll have children of our own, and you know how much time that takes.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re pregnant, Mary Margaret?”

‘’What?” she gasps. “No! I’m just saying…”

“I know what you’re saying and I hear you. If the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t be opposed to dating him, but I’m not gonna try to force something to happen.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have a date for the wedding, though?” she presses.

“Henry will be my date. He’ll be very dapper in his little tux.”

“But…”

“No buts, Mary Margaret. I don’t want to be set up with someone just so I don’t look pathetic at your wedding.”

We both fall silent as we watch Henry continue to dance in front of the bemused musician. Glancing at the time on my phone, I realize he’s been at it for well over an hour and isn’t showing any signs of slowing down. It’s beginning to get dark and I know I’ll have to wrangle him into the car before too much longer for his bath and bedtime.

I feel a little sorry for Killian, though. Nobody else has taken him up on his offer to dance, despite his repeated invitations. In fact, most of the diners aren’t paying attention to him at all. I hate to take his number one fan home, especially when I’m able to sit back and relax while listening to some seriously good music.

“I’m going to take a little break and then I’ll be back,” Killian announces, lifting the guitar strap over his head.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to take Henry home,” I say to Mary Margaret.

“I suppose so,” she agrees. “Let me say goodbye to him and then I have to be on my way, too. According to his text, David is anxious for me to see how the living room turned out.”

We both stand up and move toward the stage, but I stop in my tracks. Killian is squatting down in front of Henry, listening to him with a huge smile on his face. I don’t know what Henry is saying, and I’m not sure Killian will be able to understand it anyway. Henry has an extensive vocabulary for a three-year-old, but I listen to him with ‘mom ears’, which means I can actually decipher what he’s trying to say.

When we reach them, Killian looks up at us and whatever I was going to say flies right out of my head. From a distance, the man is handsome. Close up, he’s nothing short of breathtaking. Carefully trimmed scruff covers a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, his cheekbones would put every male model to shame, and his dark hair is swept back from his forehead with a few rogue strands hanging down enticingly. Even his slightly pointed ears are adorable.

But it’s his eyes that shut down the functioning part of my brain. To say they are blue is like saying the sun is a tad bit warm, and the way the waning light catches them makes them shine like sapphires. I’m aware that my mouth is hanging open like a fish on dry land, but I can’t seem to make it form actual words.

“Hello, Killian. We’ve been thoroughly enjoying your music tonight, even if we haven’t been showing it as much as this little guy.”

Thank God for the natural chattiness of Mary Margaret.

Killian reaches out to ruffle Henry’s sweaty hair, then stands up. “I’m very happy to hear that,” he says in that beautiful, lilting accent. “I was just telling young Henry here that I’ll play some special songs for him after the break.”

I finally find my tongue. “Oh, but I was coming to tell Henry it’s time to go home.”

My little con artist turns his baby browns on me. “Please, Mommy. I be a good boy, I pwomise.”

That’s just great. Now if I take him home, I’ll have to forfeit my Mom of the Year award.

Mary Margaret laughs. “Well, Henry and Emma may be able to stay, but I really have to go.”

Why did she emphasize my name so much? As if I don’t already know.

She hugs Henry and me, tells Killian goodbye, and winks at me as she passes by. Even without trying to set me up, she’s setting me up.

I look back at Killian, who finishes chugging a bottle of water and grins at me. Reaching out to take my hand, he shakes it and says, “It’s nice to meet you, Emma, and little Henry.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Killian. Thanks for entertaining my son tonight.”

“It’s been my pleasure. I love how uninhibited kids are, and how joyful.”

“Well, his day certainly didn’t start out joyfully at all.” I shouldn’t have said it, but I’m still boiling about what Neal did to his own son, especially when this stranger seems so happy to spend time with him.

“No?” Killian questions. “May I ask what happened?”

I glance down at Henry, not wanting to bash his no-good father in front of him. He’s happily lining up little stones he collected along the edge of the patio, oblivious to the conversation going on above him.

“He was supposed to be with his dad this weekend, but he canceled. Again. So Henry was stuck shopping for wedding dresses with us all day.”

“I see.” He ponders for a second. “Would that wedding dress be for the lovely lass who just left…or someone else?”

“Yeah, it’s for Mary Margaret. She’s engaged to my brother.”

“I’m very glad I was able to make Henry’s day better, because his dancing did the same for me.” We watch Henry play, babbling to himself. “He seems like a happy little lad,” Killian observes.

“I do my best, but as a single mom, I make a lot of mistakes.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Love. All parents make mistakes. It’s a good thing kids have perfect aunts and uncles,” he says with a smirk.

“So, are you an imperfect father or a perfect uncle?” Am I really flirting with him right now?

“I have two nieces, so that would make me the latter.”

“Do you get to see them very often?”

“Aye, they live just a few miles from me, so I spoil them as often as possible. They’re my brother Liam’s girls.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re originally from the U.S., if you don’t mind me saying.”

He chuckles again, rubbing his finger behind his right ear. “We were born in England and lived there until I was fourteen, then my father took a job here so we moved across the pond.”

“That explains the accent.”

He nods and checks his watch, blowing out a breath. “I should probably get back to my set. Will you allow young Henry to stay for a few more songs?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Sure. What’s another fifteen minutes in the grand scheme of things?”

A genuine smile splits his face. “Excellent! I think he’ll particularly like the next three or four songs I play.” He looks around and grabs a nearby chair from an empty table, setting it down beside me. “Won’t you please have a seat, Emma?”

“Such a gentleman,” I say, sinking onto the offered chair.

“Oh, I’m always a gentleman.”

Somehow I don’t mind him flirting with me.

He steps back on the stage, slips his guitar into place, and positions himself in front of the microphone. After giving me a wink, he announces in an overly accented, squeaky voice, “And now it’s time for Silly Songs with Killian. The part of the show where Killian comes out and sings…a silly song.”

I burst out laughing at the very familiar words. Henry is addicted to Veggie Tales, the wacky shows featuring talking fruits and vegetables. I love them because they teach good moral values; he loves them because they’re hilarious. His favorite part of every video is Silly Songs with Larry the Cucumber, which we watch over and over and over again. Apparently he conveyed this obsession to Killian.

Killian closes his eyes, somberly strums his guitar, and sings, “Oh, where is my hairbrush? Oh, where is my hairbrush? Oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh wherrrrrrrre…is my hairbrush?”

Henry is jumping up and down like a kangaroo on a pogo stick, shouting, “Mommy! Mommy! It’s the Lawwy song! Keeyin is singin’ the Lawwy song!”

Wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, I look around at the half-dozen people at the tables, who are looking at the musician like he’s lost his damn mind. Bunch of sticks in the mud. Lighten up.

But Killian isn’t bothered by their response, or lack thereof. He smoothly transitions to another of Henry’s favorite silly songs. “Oh, everybody’s got a water buffalo. Yours is fast, but mine is slow. Oh, where’d we get them, I don’t know. But everybody’s got a water buffalo, oooooo.”

Henry is beside himself with excitement. He’s running around in a circle, waving his arms in the air in his best impression of a rabid chimpanzee.

Killian moves on to sing a few lines of “I Love My Lips” (I can’t help thinking I’m quite fond of them, too), followed by “The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything”.

By this time, the diners have relaxed, laughing and clapping along with the crazy tunes. Meanwhile, my son has finally worn himself out, collapsing in a small heap in front of the stage, looking up at Killian adoringly.

“...and we’ve never been to Boston in the falllllll,” Killian concludes with a flourish and takes a deep, dramatic bow.

I dig into my purse and pull out a twenty dollar bill. I always try to watch my budget, but I’ll skip getting a chocolate caramel latte for a few days to compensate. It’s worth it for what Killian did for Henry tonight.

Walking up to the stage, I drop the bill into the tip jar, smiling up at the singer. He’s between songs, so I say, “Thank you so much, Killian. You’re my hero for entertaining Henry tonight. It was great and he loved it, didn’t you, kid?”

Henry jumps to his feet. “I weally did, Keeyin! I love Lawwy songs!”

“What do you tell him?” I prompt.

“Thank you, Keeyin,” he says obediently.

“You’re very welcome, lad. I play here again in three weeks. Perhaps you can stop in and see me again?” He’s talking to Henry, but he’s looking at me.

“Can we, Mommy?” Henry pleads.

I know we probably can’t. This restaurant is all the way across the city from where we live, plus it’s pretty expensive. Mary Margaret footed the bill today, but twelve bucks for a kid’s meal is a little steep and I won’t pay it. I don’t want to say any of this though, because my tired son is walking a thin line between lingering happiness and an emotional collapse. So I use the parental standard, “We’ll see.”

Taking Henry’s hand, I say, “Thanks, again, Killian. Have a good evening.”

Something that looks like slight panic flashes through those gorgeous eyes of his and he speaks into the microphone, “I’ll be back in five, folks.” He slides his guitar around to his back and steps off the stage, placing himself directly in front of me. “Emma, if I may be so bold, and if you’re not already dating someone, would you consider going out with me?”

“Wh-what?” Apparently, getting asked out by the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on renders me a bit stupid.

He lightly wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me further toward the side of the patio for some privacy. “Even though we just met, I would really like to get to know you better.”

“But…but you don’t even know my last name.”

“What is it?”

“Cassidy.”

“Mine is Jones, so now we know each other a little better already.”

I stare at him, trying to think of a single reason why I should say no to him. “I…we…um…Henry and I, we…uh…we come as a packaged set.” That’s the way, Emma. Use your kid to try to scare him off. And you did it so gracefully, too.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m really quite fond of your son. That’s not a deal breaker,” he states firmly. He still hasn’t let go of my wrist and now he’s rubbing his thumb over it. I find I don’t mind at all.

“I…”

“Mommy, potty!” Henry announces.

Oh, geez. Killian has to get back to his set and Henry has to pee. I’m running out of time.

Dropping Henry’s hand, I rummage through my purse, trying to find a pen. “Got a piece of paper?” I ask, mid-rummage.

Killian dashes to his guitar case and pulls out a piece of sheet music, returning with it just as I locate the elusive pen. He plants his foot on a chair and slaps the paper down on his knee so I can scribble my number on it.

When I finish, I lift Henry into my arms and take off to find a bathroom. Before disappearing inside the restaurant, I glance back at Killian. He’s still standing where I left him, a broad smile on his face as he grips the paper in his hand. Raising my free hand, I give him a little wave and he returns it.

After I’ve had time to think about it, I might regret giving him my number. Right now I just have to keep my kid from peeing down the front of my dress.

*********

A year ago, Killian Jones was my hero for giving me a chance to relax while he entertained my son. Five months later, he was once again my hero by being my date to Mary Margaret and David’s wedding. Today, he’s still my hero because he’s continuously proving that not all men are incomparable asses.

On the contrary, he’s everything I dreamed a man should be, once upon a time. Killian Jones is talented, intelligent, funny, considerate, masculine, caring, loving, passionate, and a great conversationalist, not to mention drop-dead gorgeous (if I didn’t mention that, it would be a crime.) He’s the total package and I’m head-over-heels in love with him.

Oh, and he’s a fantastic role model for my little boy. I usually hate to admit when Mary Margaret is right, but in this case, she was unequivocally correct. He and Henry absolutely adore each other and it makes my heart so happy. They do everything together - read books, play Star Wars with lightsabers, build block towers, climb trees, ride bikes, you name it.

And Henry loves singing silly songs with his soon-to-be stepfather. What more could a mother want for her son? Except, perhaps, a sibling.

Killian and I are working on that…and thoroughly enjoying every second of it.

*********

Thank you for reading. I hope it brightened your day!

Tagging: @hookedmom​​​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​​​ @cs-rylie​​​​​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​​​​​ @grimmswan​​​​​​ @wyntereyez​​​​​​ @the-darkdragonfly​​​​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​​​​ @paradiselady19​​​​​​ @xarandomdreamx​​​​​​ @motherkatereloyshipper​​​​​​ @julesep3026​​​​​​ @courtorderedcake​​​​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​​​​ @pawshapedheart​​​​​​ @vampcoffeegyrl23​​​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​​​ @captainswan4life85​​​​​​ @bluewildcatfanatic​​​​​​ @eleveneitherway​​​​​​ @elfiola​​​​​​ @kday426​​​​​​ @julieenchanted-swans​​​​​​ @gingerchangeling​​​​​​ @andiirivera​​​​​​ @djlbg​​​​​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​​​​​ @snowbellewells​​​​​​ @huntressandlioness1​​​​​​ @anmylica​​​​​​ @booksteaandtoomuchtv​​​​​​ @pirateherokillian​​​​​​ @cocohook38​​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​​​ @laschatzi​​​​​​ @zaharadessert​​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​​ @yasbio2015​​​​​​ @lyssapup27​​​​​​ @nachocheese-itsmycheese​​​​​​ @singersdd​​​​​​ @mie779​​​​​​ @undercaffinatednightmare​​​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​​​ @xsajx​​​​​​ @jackieorioncat​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​​ @bdevereaux-blanche​​​​​​ @soniccat​​​​​​ @searchingwardrobes​​​​​​ @jarienn972​​​​​​ @apiratewhopines​​​​​​​ @softkilly​​​​​​​ @goforlaunchcee​​​​​​​ @kymbersmith-90​​​​​​​ @captainswan217-blog

[cyraclove]

my little bit of something blue

Explicit

Chapters 1/2

Eddie Munson/Chrissy Cunningham

“You, um…you said something about Nancy?”

“Yeah, right. Yeah. You hear about her and Byers?”

Eddie had gone on to explain that Johnathan called not only to tell him about the engagement, but to ask if he’d be a groomsman. There had been a subtle shift in his attitude towards the whole thing when Chrissy said that she’d already agreed to be one of Nancy’s bridesmaids, like he’d been told that an upcoming exam he had been dreading would be open-book.

The lingering dregs of winter melted into a spring that bloomed into summer. Chrissy helped Nancy settle on lavender for the bridesmaids’ dresses and peonies for her bridal bouquet. Eddie watched while she hemmed a pair of Wayne’s old suit pants for him, pins in her teeth and her grandmother’s sewing kit on the picnic table behind her. Chrissy kept lying to her mother, and Eddie kept making peanut butter sandwiches.

July eventually came, bringing Nancy and Johnathan’s wedding day with it. 

[rereadanon]

✨Tag Game Tuesday✨ oops Wednesday again!

Thank you for the tags friends @celestialmickey @thepupperino @deedala @gallawitchxx @mikhailoisbaby @whatthebodygraspsnot @michellemisfit it felt like a hug that I really needed!

name: anna 🍌

age: 38

how many hours of sleep did you get last night? I think 5.5? We are on vacation and my toddler is not vibing well without his bed.

which do you use more: tumblr mobile or desktop? Like 90% mobile. I visit the site when I need mental breaks while I’m doing homework (so like every 5 minutes) and there are a couple things I don’t know how to do yet on mobile (copy and paste?)

a hobby you’d like to pick up: I have a few cross stitch kits waiting for me, but also I did stained glass in high school and I really want to do that again!

if you were a crayon, what color would you be? I really want to say purple glitter 💜

what was your average screen time last week? It’s high and I don’t feel bad! (I feel badly but I’m a WIP)

a song you put on every playlist: WAP by Cardi B. feat Megan Thee Stallion. I said what I said.

something on your bucket list: cooking classes all over the world

you’re invited to a costume party, what are you dressing up as? Melissa McCarthy’s character from Bridesmaids, the airplane/air marshal scene.

what show takes up the most space in your brain? Shameless duh. But probably The Office otherwise, I can practically recite the first three seasons from memory.

and finally, share something you’re looking forward to: my summer class being over! Going to Maine in August! This toddler sleeping through the night! My bestie’s baby being born! Getting to know all of you better! The next The Menagerie update! More words from my friends! More art from my friends!

Tagging @heymrspatel @gardenerian @whaticameherefor @palepinkgoat @vintagelacerosette @arrowflier @creepkinginc @crossmydna @energievie and anyone else so inclined to participate! Sending everyone some love!

[saintalectoshomeforwaywardgirls]

12/10/2023: It's a very, very exciting day at St. Alecto's! It's the arrival of our first boy resident and he's just in time to celebrate Hanukkah!

Everyone, please meet Palamedes Sextus, necromantic heir of the Sixth House and Master Warden of its Library, the other half of Camilla's soul and Dulcie's beloved as well. (He's an unaltered Just Like You 76.)

As you see, Pal arrived at the party slightly before his girls; Dulcie and Cam were just coming in when they saw him. Cam got first dibs to hug hello, and then it was Dulcie's turn.

Then they brought him in to join the Hanukkah celebration with new friend Rebecca! Dulcie isn't Jewish, but she very much wants to be a part of the celebrations and learn about their culture because she loves her people; Pal and Cam are, by decree of headcanon, Jewish, though obviously not Orthodox about it. And of course, Rebecca is canonically Jewish!

Dulcie is wearing, admittedly, Elizabeth's Quilted Cloak; I'm sure Elizabeth will join the family someday, but she hasn't yet, and she'll just have to get a different cloak because this one is perfect for Dulcie. Her blouse was part of a set by JessicasDollCloset on Etsy; her skirt and shoes are from the Junior Bridesmaid Outfit circa 2002. She's also, you might notice, using the official Arm Crutches; I'll be discussing her mobility aids/disability in a separate post later.

Cam is wearing Kit's Winter Coat, which maybe she'll give back to Kit if Kit ever arrives here or maybe Kit will get a different one. They're also wearing the School Jumper dating back to 1996, except the headband and boots (her boots are just ones we have in our collection already); feminine presentation is not so much Cam's thing ("demigirl" is probably the closest word) but this is straightforward and not too frilly. They're also using this scarf from agdolltreasures on eBay as a prayer shawl.

Pal is wearing the shoes he came with, because he hasn't gotten better ones yet. His coat comes from Karensdollkreations(and doesn't he look like a little Doctor Who in it); his pants are from Treasuredmomentssj; his blouse (with a floral pattern on it, because Dulcie has rubbed off on him) is from IZAFashionsOfficial; for Hanukkah he's wearing a little kippah from BedsnBlankies. All of those shops are on Etsy.

Rebecca is wearing her first Hanukkah dress with the boots from her school outfit. She's so thrilled to have friends to celebrate with! The Hanukkah set is also the official American Girl one.

[nothing0fnothing]

When I was 17 my mother befriended a girl I'll call Amy.

Amy was a sweet, trusting, under confident 24 year old girl with a messy family life. She was no or low contact with her family, she was a single mum escaping a 6 year abusive relationship and she was an incredibly talented makeup artist.

I'm not saying she was just good at makeup, she was, but she had just left beauty school and was doing incredible things with makeup even as a freshly minted beautician. She had scored a couple of theatre and music video gigs doing makeup for small productions. She is incredibly talented and that talent shone through even in the very early days of her career.

So the incredibly talented Amy had met my mum in a really complex part of her life. She wasn't working because her son was too little to be in school and as a single mum she was his only caretaker. She had no help and support and when my mum came on the scene, so my mum became everything she needed. Childcare for her son, fronting money to buy her an entire makeup kit to replace the one she had to leave behind when she fled domestic abuse, acting as a friend and confidant. Amy thought the sun shone out of my mums arse, and she'd tell me every time I saw her. I can't really blame her.

So, after my mum fronts the money for the makeup kit and plays babysitter to her son for a few months she starts getting her "work". And by work I mean experience. My mum wanted Amy to do makeup for a big wedding of a woman she kinda knew. A big job working on a bride and her 7 bridesmaids alone. For free. My mum then hosts her own event and not only do her and her posse need their makeup done but also they need someone to paint kids faces. The event cost a bomb to produce but made my mum a lot more. Amy worked for free. My mum is renewing her vows and she wants a makeup artist for herself and her 2 bridesmaids. Amy worked for free on that too.

Then my mum decides if Amy can be a damn good MUA, how hard can it be? Enrolls herself in beauty school and decides is going to be so easy because she has a private tutor on call whenever she needs her. And Amy helps my mum all the time, but she's a busy woman. She has a son and her work is picking up and she is busy, she can't just be available at the drop of a hat every time my mum is stuck on her coursework. So she starts declining to help, suggesting they make plans for later in the week and my mum hated that. How dare Amy not be available to her 24/7 after all she did for her?

So my mum starts declining to watch her son. Making plans with her then cancelling last minute. Amy loses out on real work because my mums a flake and is trying to punish her.

Then the biggest issue happens. Some dude my mum barely knows drunkenly hits on Amy at my mums friends New Year's Eve celebration. Amy tells my mum in tears, my mum initially pretends to be on Amy's side, but after talking with her friend about it, decides Amy's at fault or lying or is a slut who wants to ruin her life or something I don't know, only she does because she's crazy.

My mum tells Amy that she needs to give her the £10k she spent on her professional makeup kit a year ago. My mum didn't spend £10k on that kit. Amy also never asked my mum to buy it for her, but here was my mum threatening not only their friendship but legal action if Amy didn't pay it back.

Amy didn't pay it back. Their friendship ended. My mum never pursued legal compensation and a month after it all went down Amy was never mentioned again.

[soupsnakessss]

Exactly 10 years ago… nearly to the date! Mindy and BJ were in Montana for her friend Christina’s wedding, where Mindy was a bridesmaid. 10 years later and they went back to Montana but with Kit and Spencer in tow 🥰🥰🥰

[attaant]

who: atta & @hoppingseason when: atta's turn down the aisle; then, after the bombing where: the altar; then, thumper's yard

As she approached the bottom of the aisle, there were two distinct thoughts that stood out, glaringly: one, that Annette and her brother hadn't gone down before her, and two, that it was better this way. By the time she reached the end, she was certain she didn't want Hopper's new daughter seeing him as angry as she was about to make him. What would've felt like a walk of shame just yesterday was now one of triumph and pride: Kit on her arm, and a manila envelope of files in the other that would save her. Wordlessly, she gave her friend the signal, a nod that sent them on what felt like a mile by the time she reached the end of it.

After giving Kit a tight hug and her sister a wink, Atta didn't approach her fiance, but instead, her brother behind him. As she handed over the folder of paperwork, she gave Myles' hand a small squeeze, the assurance that she'd gotten them out of this for good. They could live their lives together, but separate, in a way that she knew would be worth it one day. When they were old and grey and with people who loved them more than they could ever love each other, she'd think back to this day, and how much it'd taken her to get here.

"I tried to give you these earlier, but I had no choice," she said simply, pressing the envelope into his hands. "You can call it off now." As Hopper flipped open the front to the page that would tell him she was already married, the boy she couldn't find before was now racing towards them, approaching the altar. In a flash, the chaos she'd created spread like wildfire in a different direction, and Hopper took Lilah out the door just as fast as Scamp had come to them, in search of the missing bridesmaid.

~timeskip, to thumper's yard, a few hours later~

Out of her wedding dress now, Atta had been waiting around Thumper's for word on Annette and the state of the hotel. As far as she'd heard, Myles had become good friends with its owner, and it sounded like his time would be much better enjoyed helping Mavis recover from the aftermath. It lightened her heart a bit, to know that he'd found someone who cared about him, who he could care for now. Someone else out there deserved all the love he had to give that Atta couldn't return.

Hopper's car arrived back without his daughter, who she'd overheard on an eavesdropped phone call was on her way to spend the night with her other side of the family. Atta made her way to his office, feeling much more defeated than the victory lap she'd wanted to take. Her trucks had been destroyed, people could've been killed, and as much as she couldn't quite blame all of it on herself, she was sure Hopper would have no problem doing just that.

He entered with a hint of fury she hadn't seen in a while, not since she'd fought with him months ago over this very day. Atta stood instinctively, giving him a nod of her head without a glance of her gaze. "I'm sorry to hear about the hotel, but I'm glad Annette is safe," she said slowly, cautious. "I hope you don't think I had anything to do with it. I would never lay a finger on her--I'd never do that to you, or to Lilah." She'd promised that to him a while ago, when he'd last threatened her sister. "If you didn't have a chance to read everything I gave you, I understand. It's what I'm here to discuss, along with what happened to my trucks, that seemed to have been burnt."

[hoshi-neko-hikari]

The kids are on a field trip to a wedding venue when Daliah accidentally wandered into a bridal suite where the bride was fussing over her wedding and the brides maids were all worrying with her. She was found actually helping the bridal party with some wedding emergency kits she'd gotten as a little gift from her recent gig modeling as a flower girl for a bridal catalog.

Hikari went into the wedding too. And the bridesmaids all fawned over her cuteness

[hellcheerficdatabase]

my little bit of something blue

Author: @cyraclove

Rating/Warning: Explicit

Chapter Count: 1/2

Description:

“You, um…you said something about Nancy?”

“Yeah, right. Yeah. You hear about her and Byers?”

Eddie had gone on to explain that Johnathan called not only to tell him about the engagement, but to ask if he’d be a groomsman. There had been a subtle shift in his attitude towards the whole thing when Chrissy said that she’d already agreed to be one of Nancy’s bridesmaids, like he’d been told that an upcoming exam he had been dreading would be open-book.

The lingering dregs of winter melted into a spring that bloomed into summer. Chrissy helped Nancy settle on lavender for the bridesmaids’ dresses and peonies for her bridal bouquet. Eddie watched while she hemmed a pair of Wayne’s old suit pants for him, pins in her teeth and her grandmother’s sewing kit on the picnic table behind her. Chrissy kept lying to her mother, and Eddie kept making peanut butter sandwiches.

July eventually came, bringing Nancy and Johnathan’s wedding day with it. 

Tags: Alternate Universe- no vecna, religious guilt, friends to lovers, mutual pining, wedding party au, future fic, 5 years later, 90s au, smut, fluff, Max is done with these two and it's everything, Chrissy POV, so far, two-shot, status: WIP

[betweenboxes1]

Valentine's Day Gift Guide: Thoughtful Gifts for Her and Him

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