#me when beverly hills

[comicbookluv3r]

Loser white boy NPD culture is actually Beverly Hills by Weezer and Pretty Fly (For a White Guy) by the Offspring

[freebooter4ever]

i think the toughest part for me during all this is how fast it's been. going from being totally normal but with gas/bloating/farting....to suddenly having no gas/bloating/farting but experiencing difficulty breathing and high heartrate one time when i ate too much. then during the week having that happen more and more every time i ate. and then having it happen even if i ate hardly anything. and then starting the probiotics the next week and having that solve the difficulty breathing issue but introduce other side effects. and eventually getting to the point where that nerve pain and extreme reduced ability to move my legs/arms and mental confusion was a constant rather than just when i ate. i have felt so helpless through this whole thing and the doctors kept saying 'wait a week for your appointment and get a referral' while the ER was saying 'you need to see a specialist NOW'. and every day i was waiting it got worse. its just so frustrating because if i had been able to see a real doctor on the 27th of july when i ended up in the ER the first time, so much of this pain might have been slowed or prevented. im sitting here being dizzy and unable to do basic things like clean my house or move around much and am looking forward to spending the next four days just trying to survive till i can see a doctor.

my lovely neighbor went out and bought me these drinks called 'orgain' so im drinking that now and just hoping desperately its not going to trigger anything

[dizzybevvie]

Why was the Until Dawn fandub literally life changing

[heavenlydreamangelflyhigh]

pics i had zero clue my girlfriend had taken of me until just now

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Aidan died at least ten times on screen, a point that he lampshades in ‘The Lions Take Beverly Hills’:

Angie: ‘But, if you die, you die for real!’

Aidan: ‘When has that stopped me?’

[invisiblerambler]

I haven't even seen the movie Mulholland Drive but driving down it as dusk is falling, that really is some shit out of a David Lynch movie

[chlmtsdoll]

SHOPPING WITH ART

౨ৎ Summary: it’s in the title ! Ballerina!reader x Art on a shopping date 🤍

౨ৎ Word count: 2k

౨ৎ Warnings: sugar baby! reader, mentions & talk of sex (duh !), semi public sexual acts, age gap (reader early 20’s) dilf age Art, fluff, needy reader, horny Art, mentions of Tashi in between, mutual pinning, petite!reader (sorry tall ppl), reader and Art are all over each other constantly

A/N: don’t know if I should classify this as a blurb or a fic but I’m gonna go with blurb since it’s short and sweet !!

“Dogs ?”

You had scrunched up your nose and shook your head terribly at Arts attempts to guess your favorite animal. He tilted his head as he looked down at you with a grin.

“Cats ?” He probed. You nodded pleased, with a giggle.

“Do I strike you as a dog person at all ?”

“No.” Art had laughed out and it sounded of wealth and pure adoration of you.

You two had been walking down Rodeo Drive in the mist of perfect weather on a bright day, Art had offered to take you shopping while Tashi took care of tennis business for the two of you. She requested some space and quietness for an hour or two — so of course you’d never pass up your expectation of basically trying on dresses for Art Donaldson as a living.

It still hadn’t hit you on the full one-eighty your life has taken from going from a lost ballerina to Art and Tashi’s young, beautiful, tennis protégé.

Or shared girlfriend. Whatever you had been.

You loved it. Especially days like this, you’d spend as much time as you could with Art when he wasn’t touring because he made you feel like it had only been the two of you on earth when you were together. You never stopped laughing, blushing, kissing… and a spawn of other things.

But when he’d been actually playing tennis, or doing things for his career like press or photoshoots. You missed him dearly. Even when he’d spend time with his daughter Lily.

It made your mood dim, and you’d find yourself dissociating from conversations or tennis to think about him or ponder when he’d be back to steal you away again. Tashi always caught you in the drift of it, but you’d snap right back to reality when you’d hear her say. “Okay. Art’s gonna take you out.” Your mood and demeanor would shift entirely.

“I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”

“Isn’t that movie controversial ?” Art questioned.

“Aren’t you much older than me ?” You replied as you glanced up at him, giving him every glitter of your wide Bambi eyes. He chucked.

“Oh. So should I walk on the other side of the sidewalk.. if that’s too much for you ?” He looked down at you as he moved from where you walked to the other side of the not so spacious side walk to prove his sarcasm.

“No!” You pleaded with a girlish laugh as you followed him anyways, bumping your shoulder into his arm on purpose not to be separated for another second.

You’d want to hold his hand so badly when you two would be out together, but with his public image being Tashi Duncan’s star husband, it wasn’t exactly the best decision when it came to the press — so even with as much as he wanted to, Tashi always told him to lay low when it came to physical contact with you in the open. Especially somewhere as public as Beverly Hills.

You’d never known where paparazzi had been hiding, lurking and waiting. And it wouldn’t be so easy for them to try and idealize it as Art Donaldson and his exceptionally younger “friend” that he takes shopping and on dates.

Tashi couldn’t control when you had been at home and essentially couldn’t keep your hands off each other entirely. Always hugging, cuddling, fucking. It didn’t matter. You were on him or vise versa, but when you’d go out Tashi would specifically insist “don’t touch each other.” before you’d leave.

But hiding didn’t transpire to you so much when you just completely couldn’t help yourself when it came to the man that made your heart flutter, you’d fought the limitations anyways.

Walking side by side you brushed your pinky against Arts much bigger hand. You saw him look down and a soft grin took upon his lips at the sight of your manicured pink tips grabbing at his hand. He could never resist you. locking pinky’s with yours, your smile had turned bashful but pleased as you’d walk together. Just praying no paps had caught the moment and you’d have to go through Tashi’s wrath later on.

♡

It was dress after dress you’d pick off of the rack, skirts, tops, and more shoes than you’d ever seen at once in person. But you absolutely adored this. Trying not to make another painfully high pitched sound when you’d find another pair that made your eyes go wide in awe.

Art was right there behind you as he chuckled at all of your darling reactions, finding it utterly too cute. You were like a doll and he’d spoil you till you’d probably pass out from exhaustion the moment you both got home from all the perks of shopping till you dropped. Literally.

“I don’t know. I love the waistline, but a deep v neck ? I just don’t see it.” You stepped out of the dressing rooms to where Art had been lounging on a chair since he wasn’t allowed in the actual dressing room area.

Art couldn’t say he didn’t know a thing or two when it came to a sense in fashion. Tennis was a sport based around the most expensive and luxury brands displaying their most fashionable and articulately put together pieces on star athletes like himself. But mainly living with the total of four ladies including the maid, had done his knowledge of the craft wonders.

“I think you look amazing in it, baby.” He implied, crystal blues tracing your perfect body cinched into the tight dress.

It made your breast sit in such a way that Art had to adjust the way he sat in his seat. You looked at yourself in the mirror while your hand ran down your curves. Your heels made you stand taller and your legs showcased eloquently.

One of the workers brought you a glass of champagne and you thanked her kindly before taking a sip, then turning to Art with a suggestive unsure look on your face.

“But do I look amazing though ?” You asked puzzled, with mostly sarcasm and art had shook his head, he chuckled as you glided back into the dressing rooms.

He even brought you things to try on as he just couldn’t pull back from his own suggestions of what he thought you looked to die for in.

“Art,” You turned to him opening up the curtain of the small space as you’d been in the mist of changing, just in your bra and panties.

“Put this on.” He passed you a dress and you were taken back by his desperation and need to see you in his choice of clothing. You stood and took it from him, but you couldn’t deny the slight pass of dominance from him turned you on a bit. You smiled at the curtain when he closed it quickly to leave so he wouldn’t get caught.

When you came out in what he had gave you, Art unfolded his leg and sat straighter in his chair as he examined the sight. And was it a sight to see.

The dress was white, a sixties kind of cut as it made your waist look otherworldly. The corset top made your torso extend and it was short enough that if you moved a little too much it would have been quite a show.

“So, what do you think of your outfit choice on me, Mr. Donaldson ?” You asked with your hands on your hips and the look on his face as his eyes graced over you had you blushing terribly.

Art had to take in a breath with an embarrassing place being lost for words, he stood up to walk towards you. His hand touched the delicate straps.

“Turn around.” he instructed.

“Okay. Bossy.” You joked, meanwhile he bit his lip to hold back nearly letting out an audible noise as he took in the way it cupped your ass just right. You were perfection in his eyes, all dolled up just for him. He licked his lips,

“You’re gorgeous, angel. Do you like it ? Because I love it, and I think you need it in your wardrobe. Well, not need, but it would be a nice touch.” He went on and you laughed at his high regard, your face heating up quite quickly now.

“I think it’s really pretty.” Your hand ran across the top that was embroidered with jewels, your smile enchanting as Art watched you.“next one coming up.”

You had walked by to go change again, but as you did you felt a smack on your ass and you turned around quickly to see Art grinning to himself when you gasped.

The responsible side of you would of protested as you remembered Tashi’s words, but you were anything but responsible when it came to your favorite blonde. You shook your head as your sly smile matched his and you went back into your dressing room.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that long before Art had snuck in again and opened up the curtain, this time inserting himself into the room with you.

“Art!” You could hardly stop him before he had moved your hair out of the way and started attacking your neck with kisses, sucking in your sent as hands ran over your body,

“Fuck, you look good.” He breathed out as he kissed you and you’d fallen weak to his trap. Hands running to grab his hair as he groped your tits through the dress and kissed you sloppily. He towered over your dainty figure as he treated your body like clay for him to mold, you let out a whine from the back of your throat as he ran his tongue over yours.

His hands were flighting to unzip your dress while hiking it up your hips at the same time.

“Careful, it’s not mine,” you breathed out as Art peppered kisses anywhere he could.

“Oh, it will be yours. I’m buying it as soon as I’m done with you.” his tone was low and full of arousal as he pushed your front against the wall of the dressing room.

As much as you wanted him to fuck you right there, feel every inch of his need to have you take his cock while he treated you to an entire wardrobe that any girl your age would die for, was enough to make you shed your panties right then. But you had slipped from under his grasp.

“We can’t, we’re in public.” You uttered and Art had backed away from you with a groan as he ran his hands down his face and you grinned at the state you had gotten him in, uncomfortably hard and dick nearly ready to come through his fly at just the sight of you.

“Fine,” he sighed out and got ahold of himself before leaving again, you tried not to give him a mischievous smirk as you adjusted yourself and the dress. “Don’t think I don’t know how much you want it, you little minx, be ready for later because we’re not done here.”

You batted your eyelashes and acted all innocent as he shut the curtain and then you giggled to yourself. You had all the shoes and dresses you wanted ready by the time you exited again, and now with lips shimmering with gloss, you made eye contact with Art as he paid for all your new attire with pleasure. Licking his own lips every time he scanned over you, he carried all of your bags and he walked out with you happily.

Completely forgetting about the paparazzi, Art took your hand in his with ease. leading you down the walkway and you had bitten your lip under a satisfied little smile.

A/N: ugh ! I need that !

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!journalist reader

summary: a lil joke thing i wanted to write because homeboy is bringing home the big bucks 🤭

warnings: just read 🫵🏽 this is a crack fic lol

saint’s team radio 🎀: don’t take this all too seriously 😭 hope y’all enjoy plus who know i’ll actually make it into a thing 🧍🏽‍♀️

tags: @alika-4466 @purplelewlew @exotic-iris13 @arshiyuh @mauvecherie-writes @yeea-nah @youre-sooooo-funny @louvrepool @queenshikongo3 @cherry2stems @httpsserene @motheroffae

-

Being an independent journalist in this sport wasn’t easy at all but only within the parameters of any paddock around the world as most journalists rarely agreed with you, being neutral about anything in f1 wasn’t your thing.

Speaking your mind as the race went on was what set you apart from the rest, along with your humour and your honesty towards drivers and team principals. Not to mention you were extremely biased, keeping your liking to three to five drivers but only one occupied your mind every time you think about him.

I think you know who I’m talking about.

Your support for Lewis goes back to 2015, discovering the sport and immediately wanting to put your journalism skills to the test, aiming for the f1 paddock to at least catch a glimpse of the most talked about driver. Quickly building up a blog and several other social media accounts, you got to telling the world your thoughts and feelings for every race and your supporters rooted for you to achieve your goal.

Having the opportunity to attend thee race in 2020 as a guest of F1, you arrived at the Turkish Grand Prix with your head held high and a dress so gorgeous that it sparked rumours between you and the driver you were writing about. Not to mention the hug he gave you when you first met in the Mercedes garage, praising and thanking you for the support over the years. He’s been watching you and your work. That made your heart so warm.

Then he won his 7th world championship, breaking all records and that day, he deemed you his lucky charm.

And since then, it’s been a work wife-work husband friendship between you two. Fans constantly shipping you too, the clips of your shared interviews at the media pen of the intense eye contact and even off-track sightings once in a while such as a quick lunch.

yourusername • 13 mins ago

The atmosphere in Australia was unlike anything you’ve ever seen in your career, the paddock was practically painted red, Ferrari red to be specific. Everyone eager for Lewis to arrive as his first season as a driver for the legendary team.

Deciding to subtly support him and his new team, you rocked maroon everything, not yet ready to fully embrace the extreme bright red. It just might be your new favourite colour, from your hair right down to the tips of your high heeled boots.

Whilst setting your camera equipment up (gracefully given to you by Ferrari themselves), you couldn’t help but reminisce back to the year before of when he told you he was leaving Mercedes, a single facetime call in the nighttime.

“You made me pause the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, this better be good.” You said, placing the popcorn bowl down on your coffee table. Giving him squinted eyes, he just smiled at you.

“Are you alone right now?” He asked and that set aback for a bit. “You tryna do something funny, Lewis? Because you’re in Monaco right now and I’m at my house.” You raised your eyebrow at him, hiding how nervous you were to even suggest that to him but thankfully, he took it as a joke.

“No no, I’ve got some big news and I wanted to tell you before it gets out.” He replied, seeing how you stood up and placed your phone on your kitchen counter to prepare for this. “Okay, I’m ready. What’s up?” You clasped your hands together, not prepared to hear what came out of his mouth next.

“I’m moving to Ferrari next year.”

“You’re lying.” And all he did was smile as he saw your face drop at this news. He shook his head and that woke you to run around your apartment screaming. Running back to your phone, he was still there but just laughing his lungs out.

“Give me the details right now or else I’ll fly there. I’m not playing, Lew.”

A small smile was plastered on your face as you racked through the memories of that night and till that day, you still couldn’t believe it even though it was right in front of you. The media pen became louder and louder as you continued to mic yourself up along with connecting the mic to the camera and you immediately knew who caused the stir.

He already had such an aura surrounding him so much so that you could feel him whenever he entered the room. You were aware he arrived earlier and most likely changed but seeing the official team shirt on him was odd but fitting.

Lewis had a simple routine whenever he got to the media pen: everyone else then you because his time with you could be lengthened and he was so damn grateful that it was a Thursday because it meant even more time just walking around the paddock pretending it’s an interview when really, you guys were just spending time together.

After all the drivers had their interviews with you, laughing as they walked away because of some joke you told or happy that you asked different questions than everyone else. The man of the hour strolled over to your section with a look in his eye that gave you a shiver down your spine.

“Do not give me that look, Lewis. It’s weird seeing you in that shirt.” You said as he leaned against the barricade, maintaining eye contact with you. “I’m just taking in the red on you, it’s your colour.” He smirked at the reaction from you, the slight shock from the tone of his voice.

There was always a tad bit of tension between the two of you, feeling that twinge of a spark whenever he merely touched you. As you worked with over the years, you wanted your crush on him to diminish because that would just be unprofessional but he did not seem to care. At all. Often being spotted at various places together that he claimed were just two friends hanging out but just one look from him could have you in the clouds of days.

“Uh..huh. Wanna get these questions done or you wanna keep staring?” You asked with sass, watching him tilt his head a little and maintaining eye contact. “We can go right ahead, Y/n.” Lewis replied and you knew this was going to be a long interview.

Several questions later with a bunch of tension that you were sure the viewers would catch, you discreetly turned the camera to ask one of your infamous unserious questions that you did with every driver and you were sure this one were to get a laugh out of Lewis.

Holding the little card in front of you, you grinned with your left eye closing slightly more than the other. “It’s one of my favourite parts of any interview, unserious question time.” You said. “How unserious are we speaking here?” He asked with the slightest grin on his face just admiring you do your job.

“Only if you promise to answer it.” You said, holding out your manicured pinkie finger and Lewis hooked his with yours, solidifying the promise. “Okay okay, the whole world was shocked on how much Ferrari wanted you so much so that they literally doubled your salary.” You started.

“It’s now sitting at a hundred million a year. My question to you is who you gonna share it with and will it be me?”

“If you’re being serious, then it can be you.” He smiled and in that moment, your stomach dropped.

“Carl Davidson, I’m not playing around. Are you being for real?” You asked, lowering your voice so that no one could hear a thing.

He leaned in a bit more to whisper his next answer. “As real as you meeting me later on for dinner.” Lewis faced you then winked, walking away with your face still in shock. After standing there for what felt like forever, you felt your phone vibrate with a text from the man himself.

lew <3

you look gorgeous in red btw

-

yourusername

liked by theestallion, f1wags and 43,747 others

yourusername “anything you want, princess” — lewis hamilton.

view comments

user give me your game card

user you’re eating the red wig DOWN

spinzbeatsinc oh for him to buy me a g wagon

yourusername you already have one???

user you gold digging bitch

user no ways 😭

user not you using him for his money

user think about it, what is he gonna do with so much??

fan she got the chance and she took it, i gotta respect it

user i hope this is a hard launch because i’ve been shipping these two for YEARS

user me too!!

lewishamilton just say the word 🫡

yourusername 🤭🤭🤭🤭

saint’s team radio (again) 🎀: hope you all enjoyed! again, this is like a crack fic lol. there’s so many stories that’ll be released soon i’m excited 🥹 okay bye!

[rustedhearts]

just friends (again) (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: you’ve convinced everyone around you that you and steve are just friends. now you just have to convince yourself—but it proves difficult when steve finally admits how he feels.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ just friends (part one) ✶ the library

tags: pining, yearning, they want each other so bad they're so stupid, little angst/hurt/comfort, oh steve harrington the man that you are. didn't proofread so ignore any mistakes oops.

buy me a ko-fi! (my blurb commissions are also still open!)

“I’m having a little carpet picnic.”

Julia Roberts’ voice filled the living room with a familiar warmth. The pinks and whites of the Beverly Hills hotel room from Pretty Woman coated the coach and the surface of your face with a gentle glow. The Chinese food you ordered a few hours ago was starting to stink. Even Ted, who was curled at your feet for most of your movie marathon, could no longer stand the vegetative life and scampered away.

It had been a week since Eddie broke things off. After Steve punched him, you spent the Sunday post-knockout calling and texting, hoping to sort things out. But Eddie never picked up. Eddie never replied. You figured stopping by the shop was a bit too far—if he wanted to talk to you, he would’ve by now.

So here you were, spending another weekend on the couch. Single. Broke. Lonely.

“He thought I was cheating on him,” is the excuse you have for getting dumped.

But the look on Theresa’s face when you told her is the first time it made you recoil. The first time you doubted that Eddie was 100%, entirely out of his mind.

Theresa winced into the overpriced lattes you were drinking at a curbside patio on Wednesday. “Well…I mean…”

And you gasped, mouth agape and heart hammering in your chest. What the fuck did that mean? Because you were just friends. All Steve ever was and is: your best friend. Why did everyone act like you were having a secret affair when the doors were closed on the public?

“You’ve gotta be kidding me—“

“I’m not defending the prick,” Theresa justified. “He was an asshole for talking to you like that. But I can see why he might have thought that. You and Steve are really close. Like…very close.”

“We’re friends,” you insisted.

And Theresa dropped it, holding her hands above her latte with innocent agreement. But her words haunted you the entire week. Every time Steve filled your coffee and had it ready on the counter for your commute to work (he even used your favorite travel mug). Every time he came home with a bag of peanut m&ms when he dropped by the store because it was the little treat you always asked for, but he didn’t even need to be asked anymore.

But like any other Saturday, the apartment was void of him for most of the day. He mumbled some excuse about going to the mall through your door this morning, and when he came home twenty minutes into Pretty Woman with an Abercrombie shopping bag, you knew he’d been date shopping.

“Hey,” he called to you, door clamping closed behind him. His keys jingled on their toss toward the table cluttered with half-opened mail.

Cheek squished against a throw pillow, body splayed flat on the couch, you cut him a glance sideways and adjusted the volume. “Hey.”

Steve kicked off his shoes and set his bag near the door, making your chest tighten when he immediately sauntered toward the couch. He turned to the tv with his hands on his hips.

He asked what he always asked, despite his eyes watching the very thing. “Watchya watchin’?”

“Pretty Woman.”

“Did you already watch Mystic Pizza?”

“Yep.”

Steve sighed. “Damn. Alright, well, scooch over.”

When he plucked your feet up and flopped down under them, he smelled like the sickeningly sweet butter of a soft pretzel, and the overwhelming stench of Abercrombie & Fitch. You couldn’t believe he still shopped there.

His hands were still resting on your ankles, bracing your feet against his jean-clad thighs. His touch was warm, soft, all-encompassing—and suddenly all you could think about even as Richard Gere came on screen. Steve's touch, his heat, the body those hands came attached to resting just inches away. He was wearing blue today. He looked so good in blue.

You swallowed and coughed, cheek rubbing on the pillow. Steve’s finger twitched around your calf.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you croaked.

His eyes bored into you for a moment before he turned back to Julia Roberts. "Notting Hill or My Best Friend's Wedding after this?"

Your lips parted to reply, but then his finger began tracing shapes into the patch of skin between the bottom of your pant leg and the elastic of your sock. Air choked in your throat. Your eyes bulged on the glowing television screen. The muscles in the center of your body knotted and squeezed like nausea.

In your stock-still state, it didn't even occur to you that Steve somehow knew your entire I'm-sad-and-can-only-watch-Julia-Roberts-movies marathon setlist, but it certainly crossed your mind later on. You and Steve are really close. Maybe Theresa had a point.

"Um..." Your tongue darted out to lick your suddenly-dry lips.

"You good over there?" Steve chuckled, head tipping to gauge the features and their current predicament on your face.

You buried it further into the pillow, as far as it could go without hiding completely. "Yes, Steve, I'm fine."

Steve pulled back, settling into the couch again. "Jeez, oh-kay."

He waited a moment, and you inched free from your pillow enough to bring your eye back to the television, doing your best to focus on the movie you'd seen a million times and not Steve's hand sweeping under your pant leg. He'd done that a million times, too. Touched you. Felt you.

He held your hand when you crossed the road like a child that needed guidance. He braced your back to move you which way he wanted, and to pull you close when public situational occurrences arose that made him uncomfortable. He brushed your hair once when you were victim to an ungodly illness that had you picturing death. He removed your makeup on your birthday last year when you got so drunk you puked in the doorway.

His hands were always so gentle. His touch was always so soft.

But, God, why did it feel so different right now? Why did it feel so good?

"Want a mall haul?" Steve asked, too uncomfortable in the sudden silence of the living room. He was already standing and placing your feet back on their own before you could reply.

In your periphery, he headed toward the door to retrieve the bags he neglected. "Got a couple shirts to try. Also, am I too old for that store? I swear, everyone in there was like a little Taylor Lautner wannabe from 2012—meaning they were fourteen and on steroids—"

"Steve!"

He stopped. Standing at the edge of the rug with both hands on the corded handles of his Abercrombie & Fitch shopping bag to pull it open. The snicker gathering in his throat hitched into a snort, smirk drooping into wide-eyed surprise.

You never yelled. Not at him. Not at anyone that didn't deserve it, like the neighbors when they were arguing too loud again and you were trying to nap. Like the guy that tried to steal Steve's package a few months ago that you nearly tackled down the hall.

But never Steve.

You shot up on the couch, hands flying to your pounding head. "Just...please! I don't want a mall haul, I don't want to talk, I just...—I just wanna be alone."

Steve blinked, cheeks colored pink. He closed the bag slowly, paper crinkling as he went. He took it in one hand and backed up, stepping off the rug foot by foot. He glanced at Ted, who skittered in surprise at your outburst and was standing with an arched back and black pupils near the tv stand.

"Uh...yeah, okay. Sorry," he mumbled, scratching at the nape of his neck.

Your shoulders slumped, deflating into the couch as Steve turned his eyes to the floor and tugged at the back of his hair. That stress tick again—the one you hated causing. He turned slowly, caution stiff in his spine. You watched his finger twist and wind into a lock of chestnut hair as he trudged into the hall. His door clamped closed a moment later.

A heavy, moaning sigh shuddered from your mouth as you flopped back on the pillow. Two arms locked over your head, pressing down on your eyes to blind them and the horror you created.

"Slippery little suckers," Julia Roberts snickered on the screen.

"It happens all the time."

✶ ✶

You ate dinner separately. It was the first time you'd ever eaten dinner separately within the same four walls. Even the night you moved in together, when you were nothing but a pair of strangers gauging how weird it might be to live with the opposite sex without something romantic or sexual in the undertones—even then, you ate a greasy cheese pizza together on the living room floor with an empty box as makeshift table.

He asked all the right get-to-know-you questions, and when he successfully made you laugh with all his snarks and quips, you knew Steve Harrington would be an alright roommate. You never figured he'd become your best friend.

Tonight, you pouted into the salad you regretted purchasing yesterday because a "healthy" lifestyle was born and had died within the span of your forty minute shopping trip. And now, you wanted nothing but another wet, shiny pizza, and Steve Harrington's dumb jokes.

He ate in his room. Shuffled out while you were finishing Notting Hill and made another bland chicken-rice-and-broccoli dinner. And then he shuffled past you, shut his door, and ate it alone. Never even giving you a chance to tease his unseasoned plate for the purpose of "gains." You thought he could remain just as toned and handsome with flavor on his food.

By the time you were showered, redressed, and gurgling with lingering hunger, you were properly sour with guilt.

And maybe the black sweatpants with the bedazzled jewels on your ass were pulled on with manipulative purpose before you shuffled to Steve's door. You lingered there a while, gnawing on the skin around your thumbnail and glancing between the wood grain of Steve's door and the plush surface of your yellow slippers. At this proximity, you could hear the low hum of his radio behind the door. He had a strange affection for the 70s and 80s station.

If only you knew that it was because Steve knew "the all time hits of the 70s and 80s" were your favorite.

The radio dimmed, and a moment later Steve's voice called through the door. "I can hear you lingering out there."

You jumped, stepping away from the door. Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth piercing the skin to nibble it away. The shuffle of feet and jingle of the doorknob came too swiftly for you to evade, and then the door swung open to reveal Steve in grey sweatpants and a tight red t-shirt. He looked good in red, too.

"Oh. Hi," you murmured, hand instantly dropping to your side.

Steve caged the doorway, biceps bulging on either side. You averted your eyes with a swallow.

He sighed. "Hi."

Steve watched you sweep a slippered foot back and forth like sloshing through water. He tipped his head and bit away a smile when he caught the edge of a jewel on your hip. His favorite sweatpants.

"Are you mad at me?"

Steve sighed again, this time a little shaken with laughter. "No, kid. I ain't mad at ya."

To prove his point, he nudged the door open with his palm and motioned toward the bedroom behind him. "Come on in."

You flopped on the edge of his bed, bounced up and down by old springs. Steve swung the door closed and joined you, easing back against his wooden headboard to reassume his rumpled position. He reached toward the nightstand and turned the knob on the radio to lower the Elton John song playing.

Steve snatched the small plastic basketball from behind the radio and tossed it in the air. "So, what's goin' on?"

You watched the ball soar into the air and come back down into his palm. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I was just...cranky."

Steve quirked a brow, catching your eye over an orange blur when he threw the ball again. "Yeah? That all?"

The corners of your mouth pulled down. "Yeah...? What else would it be."

Steve shrugged, chin turned up toward the ceiling as he watched the basketball fly toward it. Elton John died down and switched to Def Leppard. "Hysteria" was one of Steve's favorite songs.

"You tell me. You were having a Julia Roberts marathon."

"So?" Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth ripping at the skin.

"You only watch Julia Roberts when you're sad."

"Not true."

Steve fixed his head straight again, eyes narrowing into a pointed look. The basketball sat in his right palm against his chest. You huffed, angling yourself toward the door to glare at it instead of your roommate and his smug, all knowing expression.

He waited a while, like he always did—waiting out your stubbornness and refusing to let it break him. You could talk to him, you knew that. He wanted you to know that.

"I guess..." You sighed, throwing yourself back on the bed with your arms locked over your eyes. "I guess I'm just upset that Eddie still hasn't called. I've been calling and texting him, but...he doesn't wanna see me."

Steve immediately felt every blood cell in his body curdle. Like they were burning and festering, irritated under his skin. He swallowed, bringing the basketball to sit between his knees where he could pick at the design with blunt fingernails.

"And you want to see him?"

You dropped your arms, letting them plop to your sides. "I mean...yeah."

Steve couldn't help it—he scoffed.

The sound had your head turning, brows furrowed his way. His head was shaking, eyes focused distinctly downward to avoid yours. All the smugness of his expression dimmed into something distasteful and angry.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Nothing."

"You scoffed."

"I sighed."

"No, you scoffed."

"Well—"

This time, Steve did sigh. He took the basketball in his hands and chucked it toward the door, causing it to boomerang off the wood and catapult back toward the mattress again. The sharp smack had you jolting upward, and your eyes widened on Steve when he hopped from the bed and stood to his feet.

"What the hell—"

"He's not good enough for you!"

You paused on weak wrists used to push you upward. Steve stood a foot away from the bed with pink cheeks and outstretched hands. They curled back toward him to sweep through his hair and tug hard at the roots.

"Steve—"

"He sucks. Alright? All your ex boyfriends sucked, but especially Eddie. He didn't understand you, he didn't appreciate you. He made you cry, for fuck's sake, and you want him back? I just don't get it."

Your lips parted, but it felt like gulping for water on dry land. And Steve watched, helplessly, as you stammered for words in the face of his impending and inevitable confession. Inevitably painful, he knew, but he could no longer stomach the tireless routine of finding the body closest to yours in another dark bar, hoping she would comfort him enough to soothe the ache he had for you.

You, who slept across the hall and shared the sofa with your head on his shoulder. You, who looked at him like some sort of light source with those little round eyes. You, who made his heart pound and weep endlessly every second that you were near, and every moment you were away—leaving him in a constant, centrifugal loop of torture.

So—knowing it might ruin every bit of good the pair of you worked so hard to keep—Steve stepped closer to the bed and swallowed. He prepared himself to form the words he'd practiced a million times over in his head.

"I just figured that eventually...you'd get tired of all the wrong guys, and realize that...I'm here. That it was me, that you loved me. Because I love you—don't you love me?"

He paused, but it would never have been enough time for your mind to process his proclamation. He had a look of such anguish embedded in his features, all scrunched and screwed together with wet, shiny eyes.

"And I figured it was easier to sleep my way around than sit and watch you waste your time with these idiots. But they were never you. And I never bothered to get to know them, because I only wanted to know you."

Your breath hitched when Steve crowded your corner of the bed, hands clasped over his chest. You had to tip your head back to meet his eye, and you felt your arms shake in their locked position holding you up. The sight of him blurred with the onset of your own hot, salty tears.

Steve sniffed: a wet slurp proceeded by a tear slipping down his cheek. He wiped it quickly and sank to his knees before you on the bed, hands coming to cradle your bent knees.

"I just can't take it any longer," he whispered, and his hazel eyes were like shiny coins gazing up at you.

His lips were wet with his own tears. His tongue swept them away. Every breath inhaled rattled in his chest, and every exhale shuddered his cheeks full. He chuckled when he rubbed his palm into his eye and turned it red, sweeping his forearm over his face to clear the tears again but they just kept coming.

"Fuck, say something, please," he huffed, lacing it with laughter despite its absence of humor.

Your throat felt like it swelled to twice the size. Sickness rolled in your stomach. But it only grew at the thought of breaking Steve's heart with your silence. Because the longer he looked at you with those almond eyes, and the longer he sniffled and massaged your knees to comfort himself—the more your heart crumbled.

"I...I don't know what to say," you croaked.

Steve inhaled again, stuttering through a sniffle. He wiped his cheek on your knee and chuckled again. "Yeah. Yeah, of course—it's okay."

"Steve—"

"It's okay," he insisted, scrambling to his feet. He backed away toward the door and you finished pulling yourself upright.

"Steve, wait—"

"Really, it's okay, honey. I'm just gonna...—we ran out of ice cream, so 'm gonna g-go—go get some. Mint chip, yeah? Okay."

He sniffled again upon his exit, slipping through a small crevice he opened the door to. The front door slammed shut moments later, and you rolled onto your stomach to unleash a scream into Steve's mattress.

"Stay tuned for more all time hits of the 70s and 80s!"

✶ ✶

Steve did not return with the mint chip until nearly midnight. It came in a plastic bag that announced his arrival even before the clamber of keys. Yet, it was the squeal of old hinges that woke you from your couch slumber, and you jolted upright as the door swung open.

Steve closed the door and stood there for a moment, spotting you in the dimness of the living room. You rubbed your eye and he shifted on his feet. Ted scampered off the couch and butted at Steve's calf.

He held up the plastic bag. "Got the mint chip. It's uh...it's all melted now, though."

You wanted to reply, to make him feel better again. His eyes were still pink and puffy, and you hated the thought of him spending hours in his car or another dark bar agonizing over what you might be thinking. Worst of all, regretting any of what he said.

Because you spent the past few hours doing plenty of thinking. You laid in his bed, curled on your side, and looked at all the pictures pinned to a cork board above his desk.

The sepia toned film strip from a wedding last fall where you took him as your date. You were smiling in every one, and to the unbeknownst you might have already appeared as a couple.

The Polaroid from his most recent birthday, where you were sitting on his shoulders and clutching onto his hair for dear life. His sister took the picture.

The black and white he printed from his phone of just you on a park bench, feeding the ducks. You never even knew he had that one.

And when you shuffled to your room, you suddenly stopped. The clack of hard-bottomed slippers caught your attention, and you looked down at the plush yellow footwear around your toes—a gift from Steve.

You stood on the other side of your bed and stared at the windowsill full of miscellaneous yellow items all gifted from Steve. The movie ticket stubs shoved in your mirror and the hundreds thrown in a box on your dresser because you'd probably seen a thousand over the years with Steve, who loved movie theater popcorn and sitting close to you in the dark.

The birthday cards he wrote extensive messages of well wishes and gratitude for your friendship in with terrible penmanship. The purse he bought you for that you said you liked in passing but would never spend that much money on, and the note still tucked inside the zipper that came pasted to the bag on Christmas morning:

Because you deserve it.

Love, Steve

And then you ended up on the couch, falling asleep watching the door and waiting for it to open.

Steve trudged to the kitchen while you were lost in thought, and you hurried to catch up as he swung the freezer open. He wrapped the plastic bag around the pint of the ice cream and stuck it on the top shelf, hand reaching to close the door—when he was pushed forward by a force crashing into him.

And then there was warmth around his stomach: two arms curling around his ribs. Two hands pressing to his stomach and pulling him in. Steve stopped, immobilized in the open freezer door.

"I'm sorry," you breathed into his shirt, eyes closed tight. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I was just so stunned. And I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, Steve, for letting this go on for so long. Of course I love you, of course you love me—God, I just never wanted to ruin everything. But you make me so happy, and I—"

Steve spun around, causing your head to lift off his back. You went to drop your arms, but he instantly brought them around his neck. Two hands, still frozen from melting ice cream, braced your cheeks.

"You mean it?"

You nodded in his hold, happy to see his hazel eyes free and clear of tears. "Yes. Yes, of course I mean it—"

"Oh, thank fucking God," Steve breathed, and then his mouth descended on you.

You curled to the tops of your toes to press into his kiss, whimpering at the warmth and softness of his lips. It felt exactly as you thought it would—anticipating their plushness every time he pressed his lips to your cheek over the years.

It lasted until the pair of you were breathless, and you heaved for air upon release. Steve brushed his thumbs over your bottom lip, smearing spit and hemming your airless grin.

He kissed you all night, and let his hands roam where they could not roam before. You fell asleep in his bed tucked under his arm, and when you woke you shared the refrozen pint of mint chip with one spoon.

And when Steve called his sister while you were showering to share the good news, all she did was laugh.

"Jesus, about fucking time."

[pepperonidk]

9:10 p.m. || k.mg

Pairing: mingyu x gn!reader Summary: just some sleepy time tv time with your best boy Warnings: suggestive Word Count: 540

a/n: had a migraine, called in sick at work, and spent the whole day watching totally spies. 9/10 experience, but mingyu's the 1 i need. i'm on a mingyu kick lately

main masterlist || taglist

“So they’re… spies?” 

“Yeah,” you replied. “It’s literally called Totally Spies. That’s the whole thing.” 

You felt Mingyu’s chest rumble from behind you as he chuckled. You snuggled further into him and he pulled the blanket up higher over the two of you. 

“And you used to watch this when you were little?” he asked curiously. 

You hummed in confirmation. “The gadgets, the fashion, it was iconic. This was my James Bond.” You turned your head up to see Mingyu smiling, still watching the TV and leaned up to press a kiss against his neck. He chuckled again at the way your lips tickled his skin. 

"How did they even become spies?" he asked.

"Honestly, I forget," you answered him. "But I think they just randomly kind of fell into it. They were just normal rich teenage girls in Beverly Hills." He nodded as he kept watching, the girls fighting a handsome jewel thief on the TV.

“I have to admit,” he began, his words stretching into a yawn. “It is pretty cool to watch.” 

“Sleepy?” you asked. 

“A little,” he confessed, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist in a cozy embrace. “But we don’t have to go to bed just yet.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, baby,” he smiled down at you. “It’s the first time I’ve been able to spend the night with you in weeks.” 

“And you wanna spend it watching Totally Spies with me?” you chuckled. 

“I wanna spend it with you,” he corrected. 

You shifted in his lap, turning to straddle him instead so you could see his face directly. He smiled and lifted a hand to your cheek. 

“Have I told you lately what a cheese ball you are?” 

He shrugged and reached his other hand to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. “Not in the last 24 hours at least,” he smiled. 

“Well you are a cheese ball,” you teased.

“And you love me for it,” he pressed a kiss against your cheek as you squealed. 

“And I love you for it,” you confirmed with a laugh. Mingyu continued to press ticklish kisses against your skin. As you tried to pull yourself away from him, he pulled you tighter into his embrace and eventually fell into laughter with you. He pressed one final sweet kiss against your lips before finally relenting and letting you go. 

“What was that about?” you asked with a smile. It was the type of kiss that still made you blush even after all this time. 

“Missed kissing you,” Mingyu shrugged, leaning into you to kiss you again. He reached a hand behind your neck, as if he wasn’t close enough to you. He tasted like the strawberry candy he’d been snacking on during your tv session and you smiled against his lips. 

When you finally broke for air, Mingyu looked flushed. Before he could lean in for another, however, you stood up from the couch and reached a hand down to him. “Let’s go to bed,” you coaxed. 

He pouted up at you as he rubbed circles against your hand in his. “I’m not sleepy,” he protested. 

You smiled playfully at him before tugging him up anyway. “I didn’t say we were going to sleep.”

taglist: @yksthings @alonelystarfish @celestialchans @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @jespecially

[nothankyoudear]

Okay, so we all saw how Crowley's Bentley LOVES Aziraphale in season 2, but what about Aziraphale's things loving Crowley?

When Crowley argues about how the Bentley is his, Aziraphale uses his bookshop as an example of how they basically share things anyway... SO I implore you to imagine: - Cups of espresso just miraculously appearing on the nearest surface to Crowley, and the cup's content changing every time depending on Crowley's mood (one time Crowley took a sip of what he thought was water and got absolutely CHOKED by straight vodka)

- Velvet Underground immediately starts playing for Crowley the moment he steps foot into the bookshop

- The lights in the bookshop get amped up to 1000 so Crowley can see properly with his sunglasses on indoors

But it doesn't stop there - what if the bookshop loves Crowley so much it ACTIVELY tries getting him and Aziraphale together so he'll stay forever???

Crowley got kicked out of his flat after Shax replaced him, right?? So what if now the bookshop is just doing things to try and make Crowley move in???

May I suggest:

- Aziraphale's bed becomes a double bed - A pair of red slippers starts appearing by the said double bed, right next to Aziraphale's white pair

- An absolutely GIANT snake enclosure just randomly appears one day at the back of the bookshop. I'm talking the fucking Beverly Hills mansions of snake enclosures - ANOTHER TOOTHBRUSH. AT THE SINK. - Some of the most beautiful, LUSTROUS plants starts growing in the crooks and crannies of the bookshop just so Crowley has a reason to come over and inspect them

PLS TELL ME YOU SEE THE VISION

[genderkoolaid]

Do you mind giving a list of the transmasc artists in that sp*tify playlist, I wanna listen to transmasc artists but I hate sp*tify soooooo much

Sure! I wouldn't use spotify if I didn't have a cracked version of premium, it truly is fucking awful lmao.

I'm adding specific songs of theirs I like because I know other people also find it easier to get into an artist if they are recc'd a specific song. Also the artist bandcamp when applicable:

Dreamer Isioma / Sunset Drive + Dumb In Love With You

Tobre / FTMLOVE

Joe Stevens / Daughterson

Anjimile / Baby No More + Animal

Jake Edwards / Holy

saint hills / Lavender

Athens Boy Choir / Fagette + Tranny Got Pack

Malaika Mfalme / Good Man

Art Project / Gender Nightmare + Enemy Estrogen + Pretty boy

Miles McKenna / Boys Will Be Boys

Schmekel (and all the jewish tboys cheer) / FTM at the DMV

Skylar Kergil / Brothers

First Ever Boys / Guts + Friends Who Kiss

Mavi Phoenix / Aventura

Ryan Cassata / boy on boy

Beverly Glenn-Copeland / La Vita + People Of The Loon + Africa Calling (love his music so much. it makes me feel the same way bell hooks writing does)

Zann Foth / Hindsight Cinema

Dazey and the Scouts / Sweet Cis Teen

Saint Wellesley / Captain, Oh Captain!

Freddie Lewis / Best Dressed Ex + Bell Jar

Mal Blum / Things Still Left to Say

Dump Him / Pretty Like a Boy

Ezra Michel / I'm a Faggot I'm a Dyke

Jay Page / Invincible + Am I Here

The Oozes / Bitchboy + Ultrasound (consider donating to one of the band member's top surgery fund as well!)

Grumpster (ty anon for reccing them!) / Roots + Growing Pains

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Clarissexfem!Reader where a reader's ex-girlfriend arrives at the Camp and Clarisse becomes jealous, and tries to keep the reader away from her ex at all costs

- tough love -

Parings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - Clarisse doesn’t like when new people try to threaten her relationship.

An - do lesbians only exist online bc wtf 😭😭

“What do You mean my girlfriend is being hit on” Clarisse looked back at her brother who nervously rocked on his feet.

“There’s uh a new girl sh—“ before he could finish his sentence clarisse was already shoving past him, not only did a new kid think they had the audacity to flirt with her girl but this kid also hadn’t officially met her yet.

You sat awkwardly inside the dining pavilion. Across from you was some brunette new girl who clearly didn’t realize that this was a summer camp not a weekend trip to Beverly hills.

“Hey babe.” Clarisse sat down beside you, adding extra force on her words as she leaned over to kiss you. You couldn’t even get a hi out before clarisse started talking to the new girl. “Who are You”

“Hi! So your clarisse” she smiled with a misleading tone. “I’m Sunday but most people just call me sunny” holding out her hand clarisse looked down at it before looking back at sunny unamused.

“Why the hell are you flirting with my girlfriend” not waisting anytime she straight or got to the point.

“I wasn’t flirting silly I’m her ex, I was just catching up I didn’t know that was a problem” sunny hummed tilting her head to the side. “I didn’t realize you liked such obsessed toxic women” her targeting joke clearly not being appericated by you or clarisse.

Clarisse stood up quickly and helped you out of the chair. “Stay the fuck away from my girl and we won’t have a problem” she threatened before walking away with a jealous grip on your hip.

———

That was the only warning sunny got.

Sitting inside the infirmary you stood over Clarisse who was sitting with her head held low, ashamed that she was currently having to face your wrath. At the other end of the infirmary was sunny who had an Apollo Kid help trying to keep blood from gushing out of her nose since it was broken.

“I’m my defense she shouldn’t of touched you” clarisse tried to pleas her case, looking up for only a moment.

“You’re hopeless” You rubbed your eyes wondering what the hell you were gonna do with her.

I didnt know exactly what to write I’m sorry pookie I hope this is good tho ☹️🙏🙏🙏

[charmedreincarnation]

Success Story Using Your States Challenge 🎉

Hello Maya! I've got to confess, I used to despise the concept of states. It made it seem to me like bloggers were simply being lazy and deceiving us because at first, it made zero sense. If I could just choose to embody any state, then why was my life in shambles? Why was I poor, why was I abused?unattractive, and suffering? When did I choose to embody these states?

But then it hit me! Whether consciously or subconsciously, whether due to coincidence or purposeful, whether knowingly or ignorantly, I realized that if I wanted to manifest my dream life, I had to take accountability for the negative aspects as well. That's the law of reversibility. It was a bitter pill to swallow initially because I've been through some really tough shit experiences that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

It wasn't my fault, but I kept replaying those old stories, and reliving them hence creating my reality . But I learned that I could use this to my advantage. I could replace the old story with a new one that fulfilled me.

I started making choices aligned with my dream life. Every time I encountered something from the old story, I chose to perceive it differently. Working with an abusive manager? Odd, because in my state, I'm a trust fund baby. Seeing an unattractive reflection in the mirror? Confusing, because I have a social media following based on my looks alone bc of pretty privilege. My bank account nearing zero? Must be an error, because I have millions in savings and investments.

I strongly recommend checking out these posts for additional insights:

Pink's post on overcoming doubt

Angel's advice on states

Bambi's tips on manifesting under unfavorable circumstances

Maya's post on time

Since embracing this mindset, I've manifested so much! Like literally waking up with a whole new life. I've moved to LA, gained a large social media following (100k on Instagram, 200k on YouTube, and 1 million on TikTok), and now live in a beautiful house in Beverly Hills. I attend a prestigious private high school with other celebrity kids. My dad (revised) is retiring from the NFL, and my mom is a successful interior designer.

I've also manifested my dream body (Alexis ren), dream face (I am so pretty it’s not even fair) dream cars (Lamborghini Urus, Tesla Model X, and Porsche 911 GT3), an enviable closet and room, a loyal friend group, and much more. My list was about 100 pages long, very specific, and yet my life turned out even better than I could have imagined!

Thank you so much and Happy New Year! 💋

I am very happy for you! I’m glad you kept reaching for your dreams and inspiring yourself and thank you for inspiring others 🤍🕊️✨Honestly I forgot what state challenge you’re talking abt bc I genuinely lowkey don’t remember making that post… like who knows where my mind was but regardless wishing you a lifetime of happiness and success! So glad I could help

[thebearer]

rosé flowing with your chosen family | carmen berzatto x reader|

anyways here's a blurb inspired by my lil friendsgiving i hosted and how i think it would be with carmen bc im delusional in my head lolz

"Carm, look at this for me." You frown, turning the bronzed pumpkin at the center of the table.

"Yeah, one sec," Carmen muttered, turning with the pot in his hand, stirring the whipped potatoes vigorously. "What am I looking at?"

"The table." You tilt your head to the side. "Should I just move the pumpkin? It's too much with the candles, right?" You huff, the tapered candles flickering in their brass holders.

"No, baby, looks nice. Leave it. We can move it if it gets too crowded." Carmen hummed, a tiny curl of his lips had your heart swooning. "Need to go get ready. It's six-thirty."

"I just have to put my clothes on." You wave him off, fixing a napkin so it was centered on the plate, each place card in it's assigned place. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

Carmen shot you a look, rolling his eyes playfully. "No, I got it, alright? Go get ready." He shook his head gently, pushing the asparagus around in the pan.

You scurried behind him, pinching his jean clad ass gently, grinning at how he jumped before pressing a kiss to Carmen's cheek that left him blushing.

Your first Friendsgiving hosted at your place. An apartment a little bigger than Carmen's old one, but still cozy and all your own- the two of you. What better way to spend your first holidays together than to invite your friends over?

You were fussing over the glazed carrots on the counter when Sydney arrived, always early. "Hey," She crept in awkwardly into the kitchen, her head poking around the corner. "I, uh, I brought a dessert."

"Wow, that looks amazing." You grin, taking the dish from her, hugging her briefly in greeting. "What is this?"

"It's-"

"-It's a champagne cake with whipped butter cream frosting and a light raspberry spread." Marcus finished, stepping in behind Sydney, balancing a bottle of wine and his coat. "Don't let her take all the credit. I made it."

"Ok, well, I told you to add the raspberry-"

"-Well, I was the one who made it and added it-"

"-Alright." Carmen huffed, his voice edging on the tone he used at work. "Glad you both are here, alright?. The cake looks amazing."

Marcus whistled dramatically, peering over at the food laid out on the counter tops. "Looks good in here, Chef." He grinned.

"Thanks." Carmen muttered, brushing the rolls with butter, checking the oven again.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" You ask, pulling the fridge open. "I have rosé or wine or anything?"

"I'll take a glass of rosé." Sydney nodded, shedding off her coat and hanging it over the back of the couch.

"Yeah, better get some now." Carmen snorted lightly. "Before Alicia comes."

"I have her a backup bottle." You smirk, pulling out the bottle proudly. "Alicia and I were watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills reunion, right? And she-" The door closed and you turned, your best friend walking in with a huge grin.

"-And she literally brought her own bottle of rosé." You laughed, shaking your head at her.

"I did." Alicia beamed, hugging you tightly. "Carmen, I promise I will not throw up or sob on your couch this time. I'm very stable now." She grinned at Carmen's huff of laughter.

The kitchen was packed, crammed at the table, laughing and swapping stories over the food. Carmen looked at you, the glow of the candles you insisted having to make it feel more homey- they did. How you were grinning, laughing at Fak and Richie bickering, giggling to your own friends and reminiscing.

For once, the holidays didn't feel like a chore. Carmen had been dreading this dinner, not the cooking or the setting up, but having people in his space. He didn't dare say anything, you were too excited and he'd never ruin your glee like that. Still, for him, the holidays were chaotic, everybody tense and scared.

Not here.

Not next to you, surrounded by all your friends.

Carmen finally got why people loved the holidays so much, why it was the most wonderful time of the year and all that. In his tiny apartment, sitting next to the love of his life, your hand holding his gently under the table, thumb swiping over his knuckles, squeezing it lightly when you'd look at him, eyes crinkling in a smile.

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) "The Mystery girl of Beverly hill High"

It All started a Long time ago in a small Town Called "Swinford", The engagement of The Lovely Couple name "Saphira Lorraina Fox" From the Most Wealthiest Family and Daughter Of the Most Powerful CEOs of Powerful Company Named "Fox co" and Her Fiance named "Daniel Jamerson Rooster" Who is Also From the wealthy family Of the Rooster Company as well… Everything Went beautifully..Until one day, Saphira Founded it out that She is Pregnant and she is Thrilled to have a beautiful baby into this lovely family..She told Daniel about this..and he was Over the moon for it..But..He said that He wanted a son so much..and then saphira said that it depends and asked what if its a girl or so..but Daniel Ignored That question which made saphira abit concern about it ..Then 4 Months later At the gender Reveal Party, Everyone was excited about the gender reveal..Daniel was hoping to have a son Because He always talks about it so much until ..It reveals that She's having a baby Girl, His Smile began to faded..His parents and relatives was so happy about it.. along with saphira's parents But Daniel ..Did not. Then he began to throw a nasty Fit and Destroying the cake and all.. and Storms into the kitchen..as Saphira was so embarrassed that he acts So Childish Over this..and She comes to the Kitchen.. and Tore his ass up ..and She said to him,

Saph: "How Could you Embarrassed me Infront of our families with Your Childish Behavior!? Your Having a Fit over Not having a Son!?"

Daniel: "Yes! and I think your Cheating on me! Who was it!?"

Then Saphira Smacked Him So hard and She said,

Saph: "How Dare you!? You think if I'm Having a baby girl means That I'm cheating on you!? That Doesn't Make any Sense!"

Daniel: "Look i-"

Saph: "ENOUGH!! You're The Father of this Child and I suggest you to ACT LIKE IT!! Now you march your Sorry ass To the Living Room and apologize To everyone For your Childish behavior..and For that..your going to Sleep in the basement..and I don't want to hear it from your Childish mouth again and THATS FINAL!!"

After the gender reveal party Fiasco, Daniel was Force to sleep in the basement as punishment for His childish Behavior and His parents Apoligize Saphira for his Reckless behavior. During 3 months of pregnancy Daniel had been Disappearing That morning and came home very late at night, Saphira got Suspicious about it..Until one day, When the Doctor Discovered and told Saphira that she's Not only having a baby girl..but a baby boy, Saphira was thrilled and happy..but It never last long until She got out from the Hospital..She saw a black car that Daniel was Driving as it speed right at her… Daniel just Run her over..but the last thing she saw is him..with another woman inside of that black car..the Big Wheel run her belly over which cause saphira to scream..luckily..the witness caught the tag of the black car by taking a picture of it..as alot of doctors and Nurses came and brought her Inside to the ER…They got the babies out..but sadly..The babies is Flatten and bloodied..saphira saw that..as she is screaming in pain in tears…Daniels parents and Saphira's parents heard about it..They run into a hospital..while the Police caught Daniel and arrested him..along with This Mystery woman…Then the Doctors Told Saphira about something..They told saphira that Daniel is having an affair with another woman Name "Barbra Minx" who is also From the Wealthy family as well…Saphira's Blood began to boil into rage..and She was Absolutely Livid about it..All this..For His Obsession of Having a Son..and Now he Betray her and Killed her 2 Little angels that She already named them "Serena and Marmoru". And Now the twins is dead, Killed by Their own Father For His Stupid and Selfish Desires..She Knew what she will do when she gets Discharged..After being Discharged from the Hospital, Saphira Visit Daniel in prison…When she Arrives the room temperature Dropped..when Daniel sees The wrathful look of His Worst nightmare..She Picked up the Phone..and She slammed the Sonogram picture of Her Unborn twins..as Daniel was shocked about..before he speaks..she said,

Saph: " Daniel..I'm having twins… You are about to have a son.. But Not anymore.. YOU! Killed them! And FOR WHAT?! For Your Selfish Desires, Wanted an HEIR Of the Family! I don't know what is Your deal about Having Daughters and Not having a son, Who the hell Do you think you are!? Henry the 8th!? This Era is Long gone.. I was going to tell you that i'm having twins..but NO!! You decided to kill them..in cold blood! What do you have to Say For yourself?.. Better yet..What do you have to Yours and this Ms. Minx Bitch Self?"

Daniel: "Saph! I can explain-"

Saph:"Explain what!? Not only you killed my babies but Cheated On me with that Minx Whore who is also engaged to someone else!? Your Unbelievable You know that!? Sighs angerly You know what..Thats it.. I'm Done, I'm Calling off the engagement.."

Daniel: gasp "PLEASE PLEASE I BEG YOU! I'M SORRY, I should've been a good Fiance to you..and a good father to them I-"

Saphira: " WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU ENTILTED, MYSOGONYSTIC,SELFISH, CRUEL, WICKED, BABY KILLING BASTARD!!?? We are over ya hear me!? And your parents ..They knew what you did, and they supported of this Calling of the engagement..because I am not going to marry some baby killer For His selfish desires! we're over!! and I hope..you and that minx bitch have a happy life! GOOD BYE!"

Saphira threw a ring at him..and storms off as Daniels parents Tearing his ass up for hours..along with Barbra Minx parents who is also Inflames of rage and tearing her up as well..As Months passed..Saphira's Father has a Secret club called "The Kings" Where all the fathers are Gathered in a Nice sacred place..the members of the Kings was furious about Daniels Scandels and crimes He committed..Mr. Rooster who is also the member Apoligize For his Idiots sons crimes he did against saphira..Then they try to figure it out what to do..until Her father Decided to make an "Operation: Do over"..So Her father explains that he can use The Memory erasing spell For The whole world except the members of "The Kings"…Then They accepted..Jerry Who is the leader of the WHOOP offer Her father to Move Saphira and her Sibling to Beverly Hill..and start over by Going to Beverly Hill high as a Lovely High school gal. With that..her father Agrees and use the spell on the whole world except the members and 3 of the familes Such as: The Rooster family, Fox family and the Minx family..After the Serious meeting and removing memories from The world..Saphira and her Siblings..began to move to Beverly hills..where they see a beautiful manor on top of the beautiful Hill..When they settled there.. Her father told her and her sibling..that they'll come to school by next Monday..and need to be on their best behavior..Saphira nodded..and then That night on the first day after settled in..She was at the balcony..smoking cigarettes..her sibling came in..and She said,

Saphira:" You know.. This is a good thing that We can start all over again..not Just for us..but.. For my little ones.."

She sighs and Looked at the Picture of her twins in the womb..tears streaming..and then her sibling said..