#gos boutique

[librastyle]

Lovebird

[averseunhinged]

hii! Just saw your promt post, and I was wondering if you could do either Jealous!Klaroline or Klaus comforting caroline after something bad happens to her? sorry if these are too bland 😭😭

hi! thanks for the prompt! i had a lot of fun with it. i'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but i hope you like it. it ended up technically being both prompts in one.

cw for light angst, (kind of mild, i think) jealousy, klaus's issues, caroline's issues, death of a parent, grief, and it's pretty gooey by the end. we went the full-ass gamut in 2k words. no magic babies. very loose adherence to canon. title is from rock of gibraltar by nick cave & the bad seeds.

for the next thousand years

Caroline was wearing color again.

She'd draped herself in mourning black since she'd surprised him at Rousseau's nearly a year ago, still in her funeral dress with her severe hair barely mussed, but barefoot and ghastly bloodless, holding onto her humanity in a white-knuckled grip.

"My mom's dead," she had said, and he'd scooped her up as she collapsed. Cami had quickly ushered them out the back while Caroline began to weep. "How does anyone survive feeling this?" she'd sobbed into his neck as he carried her home.

How does anyone survive feeling this? he still wondered.

Caroline was in color again, a brick red cocktail dress, the close-fitting pencil skirt a demure knee length, but the scooped neckline was risqué. She was laughing and vibrant, witty and magnetic. No one she spoke with could take their eyes off her. She was a charming force of nature, and she'd spent the evening on his brother's arm.

Oh he wasn't stupid. He knew there was nothing going on. Caroline had gifted him with proud, beaming smiles, whenever he caught her eye, and a thousand years at one another's side let him easily read the encouraging looks Elijah had shot him, but there was an additional significance to them Klaus didn't understand.

Still, it was Elijah who ushered her around the room, making introduction after introduction, her hand tucked into his elbow, or his at the small of her back. Klaus could imagine what people thought of them. How charming they were. How perfect for each other. What a lovely couple.

The glass in his hand cracked. He slumped further down at his table in the corner. Rebekah had done a marvelous job fashioning a more modern version of a speakeasy in their home. The lights were warm and low and made everything seem soft-focus, and the crystal glittered under them. There was a live band playing and--

They were doing the damn foxtrot. He didn't know Caroline could foxtrot.

Maybe he should have guessed this would happen. She had been just a small-town cheerleader when they met. Nothing and no one in the grand scheme of things, but she'd still drawn his attention swiftly and irrevocably. He'd known she'd be transcendent once she made her way into the world. Only, he had thought he would be the one on the dancefloor with his arm around her waist.

He was being ridiculous of course. Even if Elijah had been a serious competitor for her affection, rather than an older brother enjoying needling the younger, Klaus wasn't doing himself any favors. He had experience in these matters after all. A long, sullen pout wasn't likely to steal her attention back. He needed to dredge up a bit of the charm and joie de vivre that made her halfway tolerate him in the first place, but the longer he lurked and watched, the more he felt on the verge of causing a scene. In this case, discretion truly was the better part of valor. He liberated a full bottle of bourbon and another tumbler from the catering staff and made a swift exit.

On his way out of the ballroom, he brushed past Camille and tried to do his best impression of someone who very much did not need to talk about his feelings. She saw the bottle of bourbon in his hand and the look on his face and groaned.

"I really don't want to play wise bartender tonight," she said, slightly tipsy.

He rolled his eyes. "So, don't."

"Okay," she agreed to his surprise. "You need to get your shit together."

"Excuse me?" he snapped.

"You didn't want the wise bartender. So, you get your friend, Cami, who is also friends with the source of your angst. I know more about what's going here than you seem to. This is supposed to be a special night, and you're being a dick."

Klaus continued his escape without acknowledging her. Occasionally, it was necessary to concede the last word, if one wanted to avoid eating one's friends.

Out on the balcony, he poured himself a drink and let the guilt gnaw at him. Cami was right about one thing. This was a special night. He wished he could undo this mood he found himself in, but the harder he tried, the more he risked sinking into certain violence. After the first glass, he left it on the table and went to lean on the balcony railing. He shut his eyes, breathed in the night air, and tried to let the sounds of his city unwind the chains around his spine.

The tap-tap-tap of high heels, divorced from the sounds of partygoers and merrymakers, on marble and then hardwood, pulled him out of his attempted meditation. He'd know the sound of her gait anywhere. This was the quick step of anticipation with a dash of nerves, rather than the sharp staccato of impatient annoyance.

"Did my brother run out of important people clamoring for an introduction?" he asked, directing his question toward the view the moment he smelled the sweet, seductive frangipani oil she'd recently begun using as a perfume.

"Oh boy," she muttered under her breath.

There was the delicate clink of glassware on the metal table. He smelled the crisp, heady scent of an excellent champagne before he heard the pour. A glass appeared under his nose, held by a perfectly manicured hand, nails painted gold just a touch paler than the wine. He took the glass from her and ducked his chin to hide the smile that threatened at the appearance of their thing. They touched their glasses together with a crystalline ping.

He made a thoughtful noise after the first sip. "Marie Ledru? I'm surprised we're serving that."

"We're not. I heard it was your favorite, so I got one out of the wine cellar earlier."

Wine cellar was dubious nomenclature for a dungeon where they also happened to store their spirits. He was shocked Caroline ventured down there. It had been left off the initial house tour, since the last thing she'd needed was to be assaulted by the scent of blood and death.

"Well, Elijah's just full of prodition tonight."

"I have no idea what that means," she admitted. "But it was Rebekah, actually. She practically had to draw me a map, because she made Cuvée Goulte sound like a cat choking, and I couldn't begin to guess how to spell that."

"Bekah's French has always been enthusiastic," he laughed into his glass, the bright effervescence of the wine working to lift his mood.

Or perhaps it was the company.

"I know I've been a total disaster since I showed up here," she said. He made a dissenting noise, but she steamrolled over him. "And I'm not exactly sorry about that. My mom deserved to be mourned, and I needed to do that somewhere," she trailed off as her voice tightened until it was barely audible.

He tried to observe her in his peripheral vision without making her feel studied. She was blinking rapidly, her head tilted back as she looked up at the sky. Light pollution made the stars nearly invisible, and the party had purposely been held on the night of the new moon, but she seemed to look beyond, far off to somewhere he couldn't begin to imagine. Lifting the glass to her nose, she breathed in slowly. Her eyes slipped closed. She smiled, small, but true.

She took a sip and held it, tasting it, before beginning again. "I needed to be somewhere no one would judge me for how I grieved. Whether I was doing it too fast or not fast enough. Too publicly or not publicly enough. If I cried as charmingly as Elena does. Mystic Falls is where I come from, and I'll always love it, but I can't spend the next however many years wondering if I'm living up to whatever they think I should be."

"I understand," he said quietly, with more compassion than he typically had, hoping the small undercurrent of disappointment was hidden from her.

"No," she said, and there was an edge of desperation to it that worried him. "I'm still messing it up. I know this wasn't what you had in mind. It hasn't exactly been the reunion you imagined."

She wasn't wrong, but she wasn't right, either. He'd wanted her to come to him when she was ready. Not just for him. He'd wanted her to be ready for herself. Ready to be who she truly was.

He leaned into her, resting his shoulder against hers. "Caroline--"

"I've been trying to be better," she continued before he could disrupt the point she was winding her way towards. "I've been spending a lot of time with Cami, because she gets how it feels to be totally alone in this one specific way. We have friends, sure, but no more family. Not just blood relatives. The real kind, who know everything about us and love us anyway."

It wasn't a notion he enjoyed thinking about. Whatever their disagreements might be, despite the way they irritated him ceaselessly, he held his siblings tight to his chest, hostages to his greed. Caroline had no such ties remaining, and he had no way of giving them back to her. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her, as though he was anchor enough to stop her from floating away.

She left her champagne on the edge of the balcony and burrowed into him, beneath the protective wing of his jacket. In heels, she was too tall to tuck herself under his chin the way Rebekah did when she was younger. Caroline wound an arm around his back and gripped his shirt hard enough to leave wrinkles. She cupped his neck in her other hand, fingers inching into his hair, and tucked her nose into his cheekbone, her forehead to his temple.

Klaus wanted to abandon his own champagne to hold her close, but couldn't bring himself to close the circuit. Instead, he took a sip, hardly tasting it around the distraction of the woman pressed against him.

"I know I've been useless since I got here," she whispered into the soft skin near his ear, her voice so very small, "and not at all the girl you wanted in Mystic Falls. Elijah was already helping me with the financial stuff; so, I asked him to help me learn the ropes in New Orleans, too. I wanted to--"

His glass toppled down into the garden below. It was a waste of fantastic champagne, but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn with her in his arms.

"--prove I belong here," she was still saying, even as he fluttered kisses onto her cheeks. "And I might not feel exactly like the same girl I was before, but I'm still the best parts of her. I'm still something. I'm still--"

"Everything." He pulled away just far enough to see the way the tears she fought were catching in the soot of her blackened lashes. "You're everything."

She looked at him as though he was both ripping her wounds open and sewing them closed. It's all for you, he'd told her once, and longed for a time when she'd accept the tribute he was offering. He'd never dreamed she'd give the same in return.

When she kissed him, it was like that day in the woods outside her hometown, with all the joy of reconnection and none of the sorrow of an imminent parting.

In a while, once they'd had their fill of soaking each other in, he'd take her back inside to their guests and show her off on the dancefloor. If there was anyone else who simply had to meet her, they’d best enjoy doing it with him attached like an additional appendage, because he wasn't letting her out of his arms again that night. Or for the next several days. Or perhaps ever, if she would allow it.

"Happy birthday, Caroline," he pledged against her lips.

How does anyone survive feeling this? she'd asked all those months ago.

Like this, sweetheart.

Exactly like this.

[fizzytoo]

when a guy invites you out, of course you have to bring your sibling and their friend. well, maybe karlee misread jack's intentions...

amaya and dalila get drunk and hit the dance floor while a newcomer slides in between karlee and jack.

dude..... you had to be there when i got these two notifications...

"Karlee is under the impression that another Sim has their gaze fixed directly upon her. With a glimmer in their eyes it's plain to see that [Jack/Inigo] has an intense interest in Karlee."

it was jack first, which i already had an idea he liked her, then WHAM. notif for inigo comes in... he was unplanned 😭 a townie i downloaded to fill the world

jack by @squea dalila by @beebeesiims inigo by @pearlean

[tenebrous-dream]

girl what is that profile

[huevobuevo]

The Doctor upon regenerating into 13: I might look different, but I’m still The Doctor! I don’t have to conform to gender standards, but I can still choose to strive away from my more masculine styles. This can be my chance to experiment and see what I like, but ultimately I don’t feel really comfortable being entirely masculine OR feminine! Im me! And that’s all I will ever be :]

The Master as soon as they hear that they’re gonna regenerate into a time lady: I NEED TO SERVE CUNT NOW💥💥💥💥💥

[bittsandpieces]

...

[littlequeenies]

Ca. September/October 1973 - American guitarist Sylvain Sylvain and American guitarist and singer-songwriter Johnny Thunders (1952-1991) of American rock band New York Dolls surrounded by female fans, among them American groupie Sable Starr (wearing a red hat and black veil; 1957-2009), and Lori Mattix (in a green, white and black dress; also known as Lori Lightning), and bassist Arthur Kane backstage at the Whisky a Go Go, a nightclub on Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood, California.

Last 4 photos are scans by Leith from (Diet) Coke & Sympathy blogspot.

[thepurpleglass]

Centaurworld is what happens when you give a kid one Breyer horse and a bunch of My Little Ponies.

[mariocki]

Jacqueline Pearce guest stars as fashion model Leonie Peters, but it could be she's mixed up in bank robbery and murder in New Scotland Yard: The Banker (1.10, LWT, 1972)

[water-weaving]

whaddahell am i doing here. even the trees and streetlights are upper class. help

[homoqueerjewhobbit]

Oooh can I rant/spill some family drama into the echochamber of people who don't know my family and will agree with me because they've been carefully selected to?

Like you're gonna stop me.

So my grandmother died about a year ago. The night before the funeral, my aunt (let's call her Karen, all names gonna be fake duh) pulls my mom aside and says, "you should make sure my son, Kyle, isn't in the same limo to the cemetery as your nonbinary kid, Ash, because he might say something transphobic to them." (to be clear, Kyle, ash and I are all in our 30s.) obviously, my mom has a breakdown about this because it's a horrible thing to dump on her the night before her mother's funeral and there's nothing more classic Karen than thinking it's my mom's responsibility to police her children's behavior.

Now, to be clear, Kyle is a libertarian gun nut and nobody likes him, but neither I nor Ash nor my parents have ever witnessed him saying or doing anything homophobic or transphobic. Mostly because we never see or talk to him, but still. Besides wearing his crypto-MAGA hat while he was pall-bearing, he was on his best behavior at Nana's funeral and a Poppy's two months later.

Fasr forward to now and @slugdge-boy, who is trans, and I are planning our wedding. So i tell my parents, "I'm not inviting Kyle, because he is transphobic and my partner, sibling, and best friend are all trans as are a number of other people being invited."

But my parents think it would "create unnecessary drama" if I don't invite him but "don't worry, he won't come anyway." which is probably true, he never comes to family things. No one was even sure he would come to the funeral.

But I don't want him to think he's welcome. I don't want even a 5% chance he might come. I don't want to even worry about the possibility of it. Even if he comes and is on his very best behavior, I don't want to wonder if he's making fun of his to his friends later.

So right now, I think I'm just going to "accidentally" leave his name off the list. I doubt anyone will even notice. I mean, it's an email invite ffs.

[librastyle]

Entirely Bonkers

…all the best people are ︵‿︵‿︵ [LIBRASTYLE 1429] ︵‿︵‿︵ ・┆✦ Featuring ✦┆・ GOS @ Mainstore {⭐⭐now!!!⭐⭐}╰┈➤ Priscilla Cuissares Boutique Collection Boots 🚺Fits: kupra, legacy, maitreya, mounds, peach, & reborn mainstore 🚕🚕: https://tinyurl.com/GOS-Boutique ・┆✦ Featuring ✦┆・ Hilly Haalan @ Mainstore {⭐⭐now!!!⭐⭐}╰┈➤ Haelynn Dress 🚺Fits: kupra, legacy, legacy perky, maitreya, maitreya petite,…

[freckledsweetpea]

got some fun new pants but my PMS is absolutely ruining them for me.

[tyresdeg]

callum is girlfriend in like a romantic way but pato is girlfriend in a brunch way

[actiongrrl]

|| @jesvshotsaucechristmascake survived the night...

"you are evil. like a hobbit."

−−−¨༺ Sam sat atop the counter, legs kicking and a shit eating grin on her features. She had simply crawled on the counter so that she could reach the top shelf of the cabinet. And maybe it was a little dark. And maybe it was just a little funny that she somehow had scared the crap out of him. For a minute she felt bad for scaring him, but all that was down the drain when he called her a hobbit. "Are you calling me Gollum?" she asked, head cocked to the side and brows raised. If anything, she was a Fallohide, not a Stoor. And- "Technically, in Tolkien-verse, I'm of Dwarf height. The tallest Hobbits only grew to about 4 feet. So," she lectured as if Mike was just owned. Sam may not have really known a lot about superheroes but she was a raised, tried and true Tolkien fan. Thanks to her Dad and brother for that one.

[simaginary-friend]

Anyone else experience career outfits you've customized on NPCs resetting to the default ones and mannequin outfits clearing out? I don't know if it is related to clearing out caches or not >_<