#red and orange patterned shower curtain

[charlesmansonatwar]

Kids Bathroom New York Example of a mid-sized beach style kids' white tile and subway tile porcelain tile bathroom design with a console sink, raised-panel cabinets, white cabinets, a two-piece toilet, white walls and solid surface countertops

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I like the gated entrance to this home, and it has a pending sale, but I wonder if the buyers will redo the interior or leave it original. The 1976 mid century modern in Beaver Falls, PA is sooo dated, it's extra funky. 4bds, 6ba, $690k.

Check out the large foil-papered entrance hall. They even did the closet doors.

This is a nice living room.

They've got helpful floor plans interspersed with the photos of the rooms, b/c the architecture is very unique.

Perfect spot for a cool organ, drum set, etc.

Step-down to the dining room from the main entrance hall. Looks like 2 deep shelving units behind the glass doors.

Classic pink shower room on the main floor.

Sunny yellow laminate counters and big floral wallpaper pattern that was popular at the time. When my cousin bought his house, it had gigantic red poppies in the kitchen, on the walls and ceiling.

Dinette with lots of storage and the customary MCM desk.

The formal living room features stone and white wrought iron railings.

Den with a built-in shelving unit.

Cool guest powder room. Look at how the sink ties in with the wallpaper.

The layout is a bit complex.

Huge primary bedroom has a vaulted ceiling. I guess you can get up on top of the mirrored wall b/c they put curtains up there.

It has a private balcony.

Wow, shiny gold wallpaper and the sunken tub they liked so much back then.

Look at the furniture in this child's room- classic floral stick-ons.

It was fashionable to wallpaper ceilings, too.

Yowzuh! Look at this foil paper. Love the blue fixtures.

More floor plan.

Finished basement rec room with bar.

Guest bath features a great orange sink.

Plus, a full kitchen.

Walk-in cedar closet.

Several patios.

They didn't show the pool, and from up here it looks like a total loss. The property is huge, though, at 20.87 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/111-Morrow-Rd-Beaver-Falls-PA-15010/94913487_zpid/

[emkayewrites]

Another photo that inspired one of the chapters of ''Curtain Fall', my Lukola fanfiction.

Here's a sneak preview:

It was going to be a hot summer.

She could sense it.

Traditionally, English summer involved occasional rain showers and the need to pull on a warm pair of socks but this year the weather had been consistently dry and warm.  In fact, the fluffy pink socks she had bought to London were still in her suitcase over a month later.

These were the thoughts on her mind that evening as she stepped into the twenty-fifth floor apartment that she was calling a temporary home.  The space was open plan; a kitchen complete with marble worktops that stretched into a living room that was surrounded by large windows. An orange-red sunset painted the city skyline before her. 

She slipped out of her black, open-toed kitten heels and enjoyed the soothing coolness of the floorboards on her sore feet.  She switched on a few lamps, moving around the cream sofa and glass coffee table that took center stage in the living room area.

Ping!

She deliberated ignoring her phone.  All she wanted in that moment was to soak in a bath, then curl into bed and fall into a very deep sleep.  Her better nature advised her against it, recalling that the last time she had been out-of-contact for an entire day was also the last time her mother had almost had a panic attack. 

This was the thing about press days.  They were all-consuming.  Today, it had been swelteringly hot but there had been no opportunity to stop and sufficiently hydrate herself, let alone answer a text message.  She reminded herself that there was a time in her life where she would lose entire days to social media; feeling a sense of shame when she came to the end of her Instagram feed, something she had not known was even possible.

The message was from Luke; it was a screenshot from an article.

The article was titled: Nicola Coughlan wowed in a chic white shirt dress by London designer Simone Rocha. She was greeted with an image of herself: blonde hair expertly parted at one side with bright-red lips.  The dress in question was cinched in at the waist by extra sleeves that functioned as a belt. It was a look that Aimée, her stylist, assured her was sophisticated and fashion-forward. 

“Wow, I know her!” He had commented.

She laughed despite herself, flopping down onto the sofa.

She was still in the dress.  The photo had only been taken a few hours ago and was already featured in Vogue’s Best Dressed At Wimbledon list before she had even had a chance to get home and into a change of clothes.  Life had gradually become strange but since the Derry Girls finale last month, the media and fan attention had ramped up in a very noticeable way.  

“For the last time - get me OFF your Google Alerts, demon.” She texted back, still smiling.

There was an ongoing chain of messages between them that had started since their weekend away.  Some mornings she would wake up to a meme from him.  Other times, she had been the one to share a random musing that sparked a day of back-and-forth commentary, complete with GIFs.  They had continued this pattern despite the reality of her life catching up to her.  Very quickly, she had become an actress that was ending her run on one highly successful show and about to headline another.  Her publicist and agent were inundated which meant she was inundated. 

Now, days were spent at some glamorous event or other and any free time was dedicated to catching up with work emails and her family and where possible, Luke.  Everyone and everything else would have to wait.  This would be her routine until Bridgerton started filming.  Speaking to Luke every day was important.  It reignited the trust and humour that was central to their friendship.  It was not a spark she wanted to lose this close to the start of filming even if some days all she could muster up was an emoji response.

You can read more here:

[neontoad]

“Chuuya.”

As always, Chuuya was working hard to earn the Employee Of The Month award. Paying no mind to Dazai, he didn't take his eyes off the door of the office building they were assigned to watch. 

“Chibi.”

No answer came and Dazai sighed. 

It was all P-O-I-N-T-L-E-S-S. 

No one was going to get in or come out of the building on a fucking Sunday. Even criminals take weekends off once in a while. Except for them, it seems. 

“Chuuya, I’m bored.”

Chuuya clicked his tongue and shot Dazai a look of steel. 

“Do your fucking job, Dazai,” Chuuya spat. “And shut up.”

Dazai chose to ignore Chuuya’s thoughtful advice. “Such a workaholic! You are going to get a heart attack before you’re 20.” 

For a moment Dazai pondered if he should mention that Chuuya will probably be no taller than a barstool when he’s 20, but decided against it. Chuuya probably expects this jab, anyway. This just takes all the fun out of making a joke.

Dazai sighed again and fell into the pile of leaves.

The criminal organisation based in the building was so minor, so insignificant, that Dazai wondered if there was another reason they, out of all people, were assigned to this torturous, mundane mission. 

Double Black’s forte was offensive action, not surveillance. Beat somebody up? Sure. Destroy an enemy’s headquarters? Easy. Get the information out of particularly uncooperative people? Say no more. 

This shit? Give it to some low-ranking goon. 

At least the location was somewhat pleasant. The building was situated across from a small park, and that was where he and Chuuya had been waiting for hours, the bright early morning turning into a sunny afternoon. 

Late October had been showering Yokohama with sporadic rains attacking its citizens at the least convenient moment, its lead sky hanging low as an omen of the upcoming winter, piercing winds getting colder with each passing day.

Today was the complete opposite. 

As if trying to make up for the weeks of gloom and greyness, the clouds decided to open like a curtain and let the sun grace the city with its presence one more time. 

Dazai slid his bandage off his eye and looked at the blue sky through the intricate weaving of the maple trees. The sun on his face, the flicker of sunlight through the leaves, the faint humming of people talking in the background…  

He had to admit - it felt really good.

No one had to know, though. 

With another tragic sigh, loud enough for Chuuya to hear (of course chibi pretended not to), he sat down and started rummaging through the fallen leaves. Chuuya gave him a side-eye. Of course, Dazai pretended not to see. 

Collecting leaves and arranging them by colour felt way more useful and exciting than watching an empty office building for hours on end. The shades of yellow, red and orange danced in front of Dazai like fireworks in his hands as he was getting lost in painting a picture of autumn in front of him, the last farewell to the colourful season before the cloud curtains closed again and drowned the city in gloomy chill. 

Chuuya sighed and sat on the grass. He was still looking at the door, but his eyes kept darting to the vivid gradient patchwork blanket Dazai was creating in front of him.

“Grow the fuck up,” Chuuya mumbled and took a leaf from the ground. “The fuck are you doing?” His eyes quickly scanned the gradient carpet, and after a moment of consideration, he put the leaf between two others. 

It fit perfectly. 

The dance of colourful foliage got even more energetic now that two pairs of hands started arranging the leaves in a perfect pattern, the tribute to the most colourful season growing by the minute.

“It’s mine!” Dazai shouted when he saw Chuuya reaching for a large orange maple leaf, its bright colour calling to be added to the collection.

It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was his.

He slapped Chuuya’s hand and grabbed the leaf, giggling triumphantly. 

His eyes met Chuuya’s. 

The azure blue matched the bright sky, the shine in Chuuya’s irises sparkling brighter than the sun, this dazzling view momentarily making Dazai forget what he was doing in the first place. 

Dazai had always known Chuuya’s personality was bright like fire, but he had never realised how vivid and spellbinding Chuuya was on the outside, too. 

He looked at the leaf shaking slightly in his hand. 

As if carefully picked from a palette of a million colours with an eyedropper tool, the colour of the leaf perfectly matched Chuuya’s fiery hair, the whole world suddenly tinted with a bright shade of red, the colour making the sunny day even warmer. 

“What are you waiting for?” The feigned annoyance in Chuuya’s voice was debunked by the faint lines in the corners of his eyes, and Dazai’s eyes lingered on them, slowly travelling to the strand of hair tucked behind Chuuya’s ear and the ponytail he used to make fun of.

What was so funny about it?

“Oi, shitty Dazai. You awake?”

“Gorgeous,” Dazai whispered out. “Simply gorgeous.”

Was the mission useless? Sure. 

But… Was it a complete waste of time?

No. Definitely not a waste of time at all, Dazai thought and put the leaf behind Chuuya’s ear, his heart squeezing at the sight of the rosy blush blossoming on Chuuya’s cheeks, another stunning colour making the autumn day just a little bit brighter. 

Thank you for reading! Make sure to check out this wonderful artwork by Nezu on twt <3

[thehues-home]

Outdoor Curtains for Every Season: Adapting Your Space Year-Round

Outdoor curtains are versatile elements that can significantly enhance your outdoor space throughout the year. Their ability to adapt to seasonal changes not only improves functionality but also keeps your outdoor area stylish and comfortable in every season. This article explores how different types of outdoor curtains can be used effectively across various seasons, offering practical tips and design ideas to keep your space inviting all year long.

Spring Awakening: Fresh Starts and Light Fabrics

Spring is a time of renewal and vibrant growth. Outdoor curtains for spring should reflect the season’s fresh, lively spirit. Lightweight and airy fabrics are ideal for this time of year, allowing plenty of natural light while offering some protection from occasional spring showers.

Material Choices: Opt for fabrics like sheer polyester or linen that provide a light and breezy feel. These materials let in soft light and gently filter the sun, enhancing the outdoor experience.

Color and Pattern: Embrace pastel colors or floral patterns that capture the essence of spring. Soft blues, greens, and floral prints complement the blooming environment and create a cheerful atmosphere.

Design Tip: Pair spring curtains with light, weather-resistant outdoor furniture to maintain a cohesive look. Consider adding potted plants or hanging baskets to enhance the seasonal theme.

Summer Relaxation: Sun Protection and Cool Comfort

Summer brings long, sunny days and warm temperatures. To make the most of your outdoor space during the hottest months, choose curtains that provide effective sun protection and enhance comfort.

Material Choices: Go for UV-resistant and heat-reflective fabrics like acrylic or heavy-duty polyester. These materials block out harmful UV rays and reduce heat buildup, keeping your outdoor area cooler.

Color and Pattern: Bright, vibrant colors and bold patterns can capture the lively energy of summer. Stripes, tropical prints, and bold hues like teal and coral are popular choices.

Design Tip: Consider layering your outdoor curtains with sun shades or retractable awnings for added sun protection. Create a shaded area for relaxation by combining curtains with comfortable outdoor seating and cooling fans.

Autumn Elegance: Warmth and Comfort

As temperatures drop and leaves change color, autumn calls for outdoor curtains that offer warmth and coziness. Opt for heavier, insulated fabrics that provide protection from cooler temperatures and create a welcoming atmosphere.

Material Choices: Choose thermal or lined curtains made from materials like canvas or insulated polyester. These fabrics provide extra warmth and help shield against cool autumn breezes.

Color and Pattern: Warm, earthy tones such as deep reds, oranges, and browns reflect the fall season. Patterns like plaid or geometric can add a touch of seasonal charm.

Design Tip: Pair autumn curtains with warm throws and pillows to enhance comfort. Adding an outdoor heater or fire pit can extend the usability of your space into the cooler evenings.

Winter Cozy: Insulation and Protection

Winter presents unique challenges for outdoor spaces. Curtains for winter should focus on insulation and weather protection, ensuring that your outdoor area remains functional and comfortable despite the cold.

Material Choices: Heavyweight, weather-resistant fabrics like thick polyester or thermal-lined curtains are essential. These materials offer protection against cold winds and snow while providing insulation.

Color and Pattern: Opt for rich, dark colors like navy, forest green, or burgundy that complement the winter landscape. Subtle patterns or textures can add visual interest without overwhelming the space.

Design Tip: Enhance winter curtains with layered window treatments such as insulated blinds or shades for added warmth. Consider adding cozy outdoor rugs and blankets to create a snug and inviting atmosphere.

Versatile Curtain Features for All Seasons

To maximize the functionality of your outdoor curtains year-round, consider versatile features that adapt to different weather conditions:

Waterproofing: Ensure your curtains are treated for waterproofing to handle unexpected rain and moisture.

Adjustable Hardware: Use adjustable curtain rods or tracks that allow for easy modification and reconfiguration based on seasonal needs.

Easy Maintenance: Choose fabrics that are easy to clean and maintain, as outdoor curtains are exposed to various elements throughout the year.

Conclusion

Outdoor curtains are a valuable addition to any outdoor space, providing comfort and style throughout the changing seasons. By selecting the right materials, colors, and patterns for each season, you can create a space that is both functional and aesthetically pleasing year-round. With the ability to adapt to different weather conditions and seasonal changes, outdoor curtains ensure that your outdoor retreat remains a cozy and inviting haven no matter what time of year it is.

[unprocione]

LEON SCOTT KENNEDY — CHARACTER STATS.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟷 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.

NAME  :    leon scott kennedy. EYE COLOUR  :    a vivid shade of blue. HAIR STYLE  /  COLOUR  :    naturally an auburn brown, but often dyed a champagne blond. coarse texture, cut short with a curtain bang, precariously styled with exteme-hold hairspray. * HEIGHT  :    5′11”.  * CLOTHING STYLE  :    ranging between a leather-grunge wardrobe and business-casual. favors all shades of blue, grey & off-white, creme beige & caramel tan. favors midnight black leather or saddle brown leather. fond of leather jackets, some with woolen trim. wears sock-garters. traditional ties instead of bowties. pinstripe patterns or plain cloth instead of alternative or gaudy patterns. shoulder-holster harnesses. compression shirts. mock turtlenecks, long-sleeved or sleeveless. leather wristwatch instead of metallic, no pocketwatches. simple metal jewelry, silver, never gold. leather caps or baseball caps. fingerless gloves. no heavy makeup - minimal concealer & black eyeliner on occasion. nails blunt & clean or chipped black paint. italian suit styling, single-breasted two-button suit jackets with notch-lapels, often in cobalt or charcoal, creme or off-white interior lining, tapered trousers, undershirts range through off-white, pigeon-grey or cobalt. oxford shoes (no brogue) for suits, usually in midnight black, sable brown, or ombre leather for special occasions. most boots are fitted tight to calves, midnight black or sable brown with pointed toe and slight heel, also favours moto zipper boots. occasionally wears steel toe. lapel pins for formal events are usually a simple silver sword or the dso emblem, occasionally a silver american flag. unlikely to wear green, red, orange, or yellow. ears are both pierced. often either clean-shaven or with five-o-clock shadow.   * BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE  :    his moles. one above his lip to the left side of his cupid's bow, one below the left corner of his mouth below his chin and lips, one on his right cheekbone, one on the right side of his jaw.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 𝟶𝟶𝟸 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.

FEARS  :    abandonment; of being without support and guidance, loss of solid ground. leon is terrified of losing control of himself, of his body and his mind, not only after his experience with las plagas, but certainly exacerbated afterwards. leon is also a habitual 'clean freak' after multiple experiences of being in filth to the worst degrees, and has a serious distrust towards medical institutions.

GUILTY PLEASURE  :    leon is an alcoholic with argumentative tendencies who frequently indulges in one-night stands.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE  :    leon can’t stand dress code or uniform violations, improper cleanliness, or those with flippant demeanors showing a distinct lack of care, understanding, or concern for others in disadvantageous or unfortunate situations.

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE  :    to scrub the threat of bioterrorism from the face of the earth, personal legal emancipation from his contract with the us government, to live in a world without constant fear of the next upcoming threat.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟹    :    𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒.

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP  :    bathroom. vomit. check firearm. brush teeth. aspirin. unlock bedroom door. coffee. treadmill. shower. dress. breakfast. it’s another day, survive, do it all over again tomorrow.

THEY THINK ABOUT MOST  :    what his life could have been, what other lives could have been, when does it end, will he be there to even see the end? what will it look like, will it be enough, will it satisfy him for all of this hell he’s endured to meet it, or will he always be looking for another threat, will he always be looking over his shoulder?

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED  :    do the ends justify the means? to who? / where does it end, when do we draw the line? / will i always be this angry, what do i do with all this anger? / i’m not too gone to come back from this, am i? / dead man walking. / always ready to run, always pretending i am not ready to run, even though there is nowhere to run to, no point to the running. / if you’re so lucky, why are you on your own tonight? / you survived. you weren’t meant to. live with that. / you lived where so many people died, and what have you done with your life to deserve it? / are you hurting the ones you love? so many glasses on the tabletop.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS  :    leon considers himself decently attractive with a good sense of humour (not so much) but he would say his best quality is his adaptability to a variety of circumstances, (which isn't bragging about himself; he actually gets this opinion straight from his interrogation & subsequent blackmailing by adam benford) usually in regards to capability with firearms, but also in regards to an ironclad will and not instantly going into shock and shutting down. this is half-true, leon is extremely capable on the field, and that's what he considers valuable, but in civilian situations, he’s not as in his element.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟺    :    𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒    𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES  :     single! he doesn't mind group dates, but rarely introduces his partners to his friends, usually because he doesn't stay in relationships for very long.

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED  :     he would say respected if asked, but it would always be loved.

BEAUTY OR BRAINS  :    depends on his intentions. if he’s just going to bed with them, then beauty. something more? brains, although he wishes it could be just beauty, just so he wouldn’t have to explain why his life is such a downhill disaster and wouldn’t have to deal with the emotional turmoil from a partner capable of understanding his personal hell in detail and the effect of it on everyone around him.

DOGS OR CATS  :     cats. leon has a complicated view on dogs after being mauled in the raccoon city police department's parking garage, but he isn't as afraid of them as once was after freeing 'hewie' from the beartrap in valdelobos.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟻    :    𝐃𝐎    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘…

LIE  :     absolutely, more than he realizes, especially by convenient omission and selectively telling details but not entire truth, but he isn’t oblivious. leon lies to protect the government’s interests in multiple cases, and he does this often knowingly, but leon is also extremely good at tricking himself into believing his own lies until he’s not sure exactly sure himself what’s true, even after living through it himself. leon justifies his actions to himself or others through lies, omission of the truth, or misrepresentation of the situation. leon can lie about everything from how many drinks he’s had that night to us official involvement in raccoon city, even while under oath, which is serious considering the important moral weight he puts on justice and retribution for acts of injustice.

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES  :     conditioned and trained into reliance on his government handlers and into filling a demanding government role; he’s so uniquely specialized to thrive in his situation, that leon wouldn’t fit anywhere else in society now without reintegration therapy similar to what long-term prisoners and career military veterans go through. leon portrays himself very confidently, and believes that he is self-sufficient as an individual, but would crumble almost instantly in reality if thrown into the deep end without warning, and become quickly lost and overwhelmed without someone to give him orders or direction. the thought of striking out independently, while a goal of leon’s, is a terrifying consideration.

BELIEVE IN LOVE  :     it comes and goes by the hour.

WANT SOMEONE  :     to pull him out of the fight, to share with a glimpse of normalcy.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟼    :    𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘    𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑…

BEEN ON STAGE  :     yes, as an ornament, as an orator, as a product, as a poster-boy.

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN  :     he would not recognize himself.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟽    :    𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒.

FAVOURITE COLOUR  :     sapphire blue.

FAVOURITE ANIMAL  :     admires anything feline, favors lions & 'mountain lions'.

FAVOURITE BOOK  :      criminal mystery, likely with a noir setting. diagnosing him with sherlock holmes enjoyer.

FAVOURITE GAME  :     leon has a few favorites in recent times, but will not play anything with a zombie-apocalypse setting. metal gear, hitman, tom clancy's, and assassin's creed are a few of his favorite videogame series.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟾    :    𝐀𝐆𝐄.

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE  :     july 10th.

HOW OLD WILL THEY BE  :      46 yrs.

✦ 𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁  𝟶𝟶𝟿    :    𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

I LOVE  :   cheap brandy. the reliability of structure. playing part in the dispensation of justice, law, & order. 

I FEEL  :    ensnared. exposed like a raw wound. restless & resolute.  

I HIDE  :    behind the lies, for the sake of peace, for the sake of stability. the exhaustion.

I MISS  :    what could have been.

I WISH  :    for an end. for a world without fear. 

tagged by :    @sanctamater tagging:    whoever would like to! :)

[sm0k1ng-k1lls]

right. my first writing here. please dont shit on me its my first time posting my writing here. and this is the first draft soo

TW:$h, gender dysphoria, queerphobia, religious trauma, implied smoking

artist

four.

my mum lathers lotion over my body after a bath, saying what a ‘pretty girl’ i was with ‘smooth supple skin’. the cold and slimy lotion stays on my skin, prickly and wet, and i swear to never apply lotion, ever.

eight.

we sit in class, you and i, hands touching each others’, my short hair sticks out like hay bales and your long hair runs down your shoulders, velvety and soft. our fingers touch our arms as we take gel pens and glitter pens and decorate the canvases with splashes of colour.

thirteen.

red is my favourite colour. it dances around, elegant like a ballerina and tears prick at its eyes as Swan Lake nears a melancholy minor. the pain is nearly invisible with the spectacle, the appetizer to a four course meal. it burns like a fire on a cold winter night, its warmth enveloping me in a hug.

sixteen.

red does not go well with skin. it leaves traces on my beautiful unmarked canvas, the ladder like rungs leading to a void of emotionless emotions, black and white and grey but with darker greys and lighter greys. i have to draw curtains over my once-pretty canvas. maybe its time to clean up, put away my paint and brushes, return the key of the studio to the landlord and resign from tenancy. deep down i know despite this i might reopen the art studio.

eighteen.

i sit in the shower with my canvas torn and broken, my skin raw and tender. i scrub and scrub and scrub and scrub. i still can feel lotion on my skin. i have to wash it away. i have to wash it away tears prick at the corner of my eyes, i move a hand to wipe them away.

nineteen.

i sit on the surgical chair, arm held out as the artist inks my skin with intricate patterns and designs, they say beauty is pain but it isn't because how can i say that when i’ve been ugly my whole life? my arms are covered in inked skin, each centimeter of skin covered in tattoo ink, the inks covering up the shame i have carried. i am running out of space but my body isn't a canvas to drive a knife into so i succumb.

sixteen.

your pen draws designs on my hand during art class, us sharing earphones as sad screaming songs drown out sad screaming us and we are tired because our whole lives we have been screaming and yelling and calling out but all you do is stick your fucking fingers in your ears and play pretend. we are tired. our throats are raw and tender and itch like hell and our voices are raspy, we cannot scream so we take pens and write and draw and mark our skin with our cries. that night, the picture of a guitar plugged into an amplifier stays on my hand while i shower, sticking out my hand to prevent water washing it off.

thirteen.

it is suffocating me, my skin. it wraps around me and squeezes me tight, squeezes any ounce of air i have left in my black lungs. in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four. i shake and shake and shake. i cannot breathe and i cannot see. the tight fabric crushes me in a hug. i try to draw in a breathe, wheezing. the rough fabric scratches my skin, makes it red and sore. it is not my skin and i cannot breathe.

twenty-three

the hospital air is sterile and stale. the fluorescent bright white light stabs my eyes and the monotone sound of beeping fills the air. i grin tiredly. finally, at last. under the hospital gown are bandages and under the bandages are two scars, jagged and unsymmetrical, right on my chest. i am me, my skin is a canvas and i ink it in whatever i want. my canvas is mended, the hole in the middle tenderly patched up.

sixteen

we take our glitter pens, red, purple, pink, orange, blue, grey. the teacher drones on and on about ‘discipline’ and ‘tidiness’ and ‘morale’. i only know black and white. but artists mix colours, don't they? greys and whites and blacks, all different tints and shades and colours. right equals wrong and wrong is right but in the name of Pastor i am wrong, a sinner and that i’ll rot in the depths of hell, orangey red tongues tasting my tainted soul, savouring the wrongness in me and the devil placing his burning hand on my cheek and tells me ‘you’re safe with me now’

thirteen

i hide in changing rooms and don't change outside. for all the beauty in thorns and roses people were shell-shocked when i said i like the red of blood when i pricked my finger on brambly bushes. i quite liked the deep scarlet that was smeared across my thumbs. if i looked in a pail of blood i’d lose myself in the depths of shades. scarlet dries a burgundy brown on warm skin-canvases.

four

mummy said that she liked the tattoo of the butterfly on my hand that sammy gave me. i was so happy. sammy’s my best friend. i want to marry her when i grow up, it would be me and her and we’d play with barbies all day and draw on each others' hands and give each other fake tattoos. mummy said to never get real tattoos, it would be painful and it would roowin my skin. what does roowin mean? im gonna draw on sammy’s arm tomorrow.

[cascada-showers]

How LED Shower-Heads Can Modernize Your Bath

Modern science is supplying the fundamental juice to the lavish people to be more luxurious than ever. LED shower heads are such an invention. It is a modern innovation that can significantly enhance your bathing experience by adding a touch of luxury, fun, and functionality. You can regulate the shower heads LED, its dancing quality, color playing, illuminating strength, and more. You can also get dream color by removing controller devices. This LED shower is designed with a thermostatic feature to warm up water as per your needs.

Here is how LED shower heads modernize your bath:

Visual Appeal

LED shower heads are equipped with built-in LED lights that can emit various colors. It dances with its specific rhythm to make your bath funnier and more enjoyable. These lights can create an aesthetically pleasing and relaxing atmosphere in your bathroom. The colors can change gradually or according to a pattern previously programmed. Adding a unique aesthetic component to your shower routine, this shower head transforms yours into a place of fun in the bathroom.

Mood Enhancement

LED lights are bright and colorful. When the lights of various colors play in front of you, it has a psychological impact on your mood. Warm and vibrant color is preferable to everybody, from the young to the aged ones. If you get such a colorful start to the day, you will surely hum a lovely refreshing song and your mood will be refreshed. Morning shows the day! So, your bathroom will make your mood refreshed to go ahead of the day.

For example, warm colors like orange and red can create a relaxing ambiance, while cool colors like green and blue can evoke a sense of calmness and tranquility. This can help you unwind and de-stress after a long day.

Therapeutic Benefits

Apart from getting a refreshed mood, you can also get warm water from thermostatic shower heads. You can get instant hot, cold water, or normal water. It has a powerful impact on health. Warm water helps increase blood circulation in the body and reduce the pain. Besides, you can also get other features from these shower heads.

Water Temperature Indication

Modern LED shower heads may change color, based on the water temperature. This can help avoid unexpectedly cold or hot water flow from the shower. However, a thermostatic temperature management shower can give you ultimate efficiency by making your bathing water instantly warm. You can add a color-changing light indication to determine the present temperature of the water. e

Enhance your fun

Turn on The Fun in Your Shower. Just by the Thermostatic Shower Head with 4 Functions: Electronic LED Rain Shower, Rainfall mode, Rain Curtain mode, SPA Misting mode, Massage and mix. Therefore, you will get ultimate refreshment and fun juxtaposed when you install these modern showerheads with LEDs.

Energy Efficiency Lighting System

LED lights are known for their energy efficiency. They consume the least electricity and even run on DC power. This means you can enjoy the visual effects of the LED lights without significantly impacting your energy bills.

LED lights with an in-built sound system

An in-built sound system with Bluetooth connection has been launched in the premium segment of shower heads. By connecting with your mobile phone, you can play the songs you like most. During the bathing of your little ones, you can play enjoyable songs that they like most. Shower heads with LED and sound systems will make your bath more enjoyable. Your bathing experience will be utterly unique and lavish.

Entertainment for Children

LED shower heads can make bath time more fun for kids. The color-changing LEDs can capture their attention and give them an exciting experience. This might even inspire them to look forward to bath time. After all, some kids do not want to bathe. They will always be willing to have funny baths.

Easy Installation

LED shower heads are easy to install. You can easily install it by replacing your existing shower head. However, you have to follow some specific rules for turning off the previous plumbing pipe. This means you can upgrade your bathroom without asking for a plumber to remodel it. Still, you should ask for the plumbers’ support so that they can finish the job professionally and flawlessly.

Customization

Some LED shower heads allow you to choose the color settings or patterns as per your preference. You can change the mode of color from the remote controller device provided with it. This customization option lets you customize the lighting to match your mood and preference or bathroom decor.

The most important benefit of LED shower heads is that you can enjoy any color you like during the bath. With personalized customization, you can create your bathroom as a room for refreshment and enjoyment. The instant water heating system and sound system make the person in the bath glee and jovial. If you are interested in adding a touch of modernization and luxury to your bathroom routine, an LED shower head could be a great boon for you. Contact Cascade Showers and choose the model you like from the premium shower heads with hose.

[foxy-eva]

Sleepy Golden Storm

Summary: Reader and Spencer Reid enjoy some morning cuddles

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: none

Author’s note: Here’s a soft and fluffy little fic that made me feel all warm and fuzzy when I wrote it. It was inspired by the line “Your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm” from the Leonard Cohen song Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 1.3k

Masterlist

Your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm

Whenever I came home from a night shift and found you sleeping peacefully on my side of the bed, I was convinced Leonard Cohen must have written this verse about you. The logical part of my brain knew of course that this couldn’t be true for many reasons. But this exact line always replayed in my head when I saw you like this.

The rising sun managed to sneak one of its rays through a crack in the curtains, illuminating our bedroom in soft shades of red and orange. Your unruly curls on my pillow did look like a golden storm then, so soft and disheveled, begging me to let my fingers run through them.

Even though you had done it many times before, seeing you sleeping on my side of our shared bed always let my heart skip a beat. When I noticed you lying there for the first time many months ago you had told me that every fibre of your body was yearning for my presence whenever I worked nights. The only way to soothe that longing was for you to be able to breathe in my scent lingering on the sheets.

The wood of the floorboards cracked when I stepped closer to the bed to take in the sight in front of me. I was afraid the sound would wake you up, but you only scrunched your nose for a fraction of a second and kept breathing steadily. I smiled to myself at the fact that this tic of yours was so deeply embedded in your subconscious that you couldn’t even shake it in your dreams. Your face looked absolutely perfect, your features relaxed and the lower half of it covered in stubbles. Ever since I had told you how much I adored your little scruff you stopped shaving every day.

You looked so peaceful, lying on your side, one arm under the pillow and the other on top of the blanket, holding the fabric in a loose grip. Although the comforter hid most of your body from my sight, I could picture the way your legs were positioned on the mattress, your knees bent and curled up. I assumed you would be wearing one of your checkered pajama pants you had owned for a decade, the patterns already fading and the material almost too thin to provide warmth from being washed and dried countless times.

I always showered at the hospital after my night shifts to not wake you up when I came home. I had already changed into my oversized sleeping shirt and pajama shorts as quietly as possible. Timidly I lifted the comforter to crawl into bed behind you, pressing my front into your back and wrapping my arm around you under the covers. You sensed my presence instantly without having to fully wake up, shifting your position slightly to lean further into my body. I pressed my face on your shoulder for a second to take in your scent before I let my head rest on the pillow behind you, your curls tickling my cheeks.

I let my hand glide over your thigh, feeling the soft fabric of your pants. I lingered on your hip for a second, squeezing it gently before my hand found its way under the hem of your shirt. Your abdominal muscles twitched when I let my fingertips trace the line of hair right beneath your belly button. I circled your navel with my index finger twice and noticed your skin breaking out in goosebumps. I knew it wouldn’t be long now before all of your drowsiness left you and you fully woke up.

I flattened my hand to let it slowly roam over your tummy, relishing the softness of it. I had to suppress the urge to bury my fingers into your tender flesh, still trying to give you some time to leave the grip of sleep at your own pace. I don’t know why but your skin always felt extra warm and delicate in the mornings. My hand wandered further up your body and I let my palm rest on your chest, counting your heartbeats while I pressed my lips onto the nape of your neck.

I heard a hum leave your throat when you felt my kiss on your skin and I whispered against it, “I missed you so much, sleepy boy.” You took your sweet time to fully wake up, your eyes still closed when your arm wandered underneath the covers and reached behind you to make contact with me. You gave my waist a tender squeeze before you slowly shifted your body, turning around to be able to face me. I let my hand slip out from under your shirt and placed it on your back, caressing it gently.

Your eyes were still half-lidded and weary when they found mine. It seemed like it took you a couple of seconds to fully fathom that you were awake and I was really here. When your brain caught up with the fact that you were not dreaming anymore, you smiled at me and put your hand on my cheek, your thumb tracing my skin. Your lips looked so smooth and kissable I couldn’t resist them any longer. My mouth found yours in an instant and you gladly accepted the contact. After a few moments I decided that kissing your lips was not enough and peppered your whole face with little pecks while a breathy laugh left your throat. First I found your cheeks, then your nose, your forehead, your jaw, your temple and then your mouth again.

When I was satisfied for now I let my head rest on the pillow again to look at you. My little ministrations apparently helped to fully wake you up and I reciprocated the smile you granted me. You closed the small gap between us to kiss me once more while your hand made its way under my shirt, tracing the sensitive skin along my spine. You drew little circles with your fingertips, leaving goosebumps on your way and making me shiver slightly. Both of us always craved skin to skin contact after being separated for more than a few hours. My palm wandered from your back up to the nape of your neck, making contact with your soft curls. I let my hand dishevel what was already a little messy, intertwining my fingers with your hair.

“Good morning my love,” you mumbled against my lips with a hoarse voice. You pulled back slightly to be able to fully look at me. “I missed you so much,” you continued.

I put my hand down on your shoulder and gave it a tender push, implicitly telling you to lay on your back. I curled into your side, put my arm around your torso and let my legs entangle with yours. I buried my face into the crook of your neck and placed a kiss on your pulse-point. You let one of your hands rest on the small of my back and put the other one on my upper arm, holding me tightly.

The warmth you provided for me made my insides tingle and my heart swell. I found so much comfort and security in the way you held me, sending my body into a deeply relaxed state. I noticed how my breathing evened out and slowed down in tandem with the sound of your heartbeat. The harbingers of sleep were already dulling my senses when you kissed the top of my head and whispered, “Sweet dreams. I love you.”

I wanted to tell you how much I loved you as well but I was already too far gone. I repeated it in my mind instead, over and over again, hoping you would be able to hear it somehow.

I love you, Spencer

[infinitesimblr]

WCIF/Does Anybody Have...

So inevitably trying to put my game back together on a new machine has been...trying.  Who woulda thought, right?  Ugh.

There’s some things that I’m missing, and I’ve been keeping a running list of them as they become apparent.  I figure if I post that list here, someone might be able to help.  I haven’t got pics for everything, but those that I do have, I’ve added.

Buggybooz’ original PlummyPlum and Stone Sandwich KitchenBasic counter recolors, potentially one or two more.  Whatever wasn’t included with their up-to-date files from Buggy’s Retreat.  Found on Shasta’s Tumblr.

*****

Awesims’ KitchenBasic countertop recolors.  Includes three concrete, three granite, and six composite stone countertops.  Found at GoS.

This is one of the few Wayback Machine links of theirs that doesn’t work.

*****

Someone (???) once upon a time made a modded growable marijuana crop complete with custom garden plot and accessories for use.  I can’t be any less vague, sorry.  I had thought that iCad answered an ask regarding said thing a while ago but I looked through her entire blog and couldn’t find it.  I’ve also tried SimsCave and the Booty, but I can’t remember who made it so I’m not having any luck.

Found!  They’re by PandoraSims.  The more complete version is maryjane2.zip, about 2/3 of the way down the page.  Many thanks to @pixeldolly​ for prodding me to revisit the Booty when I’m not mostly asleep.

*****

The Scriptorium .txt files for Spaik’s Erica modular stairs, specifically the black and the white, as those are the only ones I use.  Neither the T$R download or the files at the Booty come with them, and the installation instructions at T$R that had the text that one could copy and paste into their own files no longer exists.  Boo.  I made them myself following AlmightyHat’s Instructions.  They are half-assed but functional (Not Hat’s fault BTW,) so if anyone wants them - here.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** The data from my laptop has been recovered, so I now have the originals again.  I replaced my not-very-well-done files with the correctly written ones that I originally had, and have also replaced the RAR at the link above.

*****

The following stuff that I think/swear is by Shasta but I’ll be damned if I can find any trace of these things online anywhere:

Recolors of the Seasons shower curtain in three colors (red, turquoise, and either a grey or maybe a lime) with white polka dots.  99.9% sure these were not by DeeDee.  Found on Sims2Artists.

Recolors of the Base Game nursery stuff (maybe just the crib bedding?) using fabric patterns from Blend (RIP.)  Part or all of the set was circus-themed.  Shasta kindly pointed me to them on GoS.

Recolors of a Maxis rug - either Isotopia from Freetime or the rectangular Oriental rug from Nightlife - that are like, several two-toned monochrome recolors of an art deco design, the same but with a stylized rose design, and maybe one more design?  Not actually by Shasta, actually by delonariel/tethys.  With the help of some lovely folks in the comments, I was able to find them here at GoS.

*****

Some stuff One thing by Raynuss/Imagine That:

The Functional Dicke Berta Fireplace

The only place I’ve found a link to this is one post on SimPearls, and it’s since been deleted.  Both amethystfenix and deatherella had this.

*****

The (original?) recolors for Pocci’s Kitchen Deco:

Each piece has two recolors that coordinate with the others, i.e. the kettle also has a red and a green recolor, plus all three have I think a pink and an orange recolor in the same leaf pattern.  I have the meshes, and I thought the recolors came with them - at least, that’s how I got them on my laptop - but that was years ago on BPS so not now I guess?  If the creator of the recolors wasn’t Pocci, I can’t remember who it was and Google Isn’t helping.  As it turns out, the recolors I was thinking of were by SpaceDoll, and amethystfenix had these, too.

*****

Some recolors of Echo’s Real Rug by someone who I cannot remember.  They were designs by actual designers like Bluebell Gray, and I’m afraid I can’t be more specific.  I can’t find them with Google, I can’t find them on anyone’s Pinterest, I can’t find any reblogs of them.  They were from quite a few years ago.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** Also recovered from my laptop.  Still have no idea who made these, but whoever you are, I want you to know that they are some of my absolute favorites and I hope you don’t mind me reuploading them for the community here.  I included (my lightly edited versions of) Echo’s meshes for convenience, RealRug2x3 is the repositoried file.

*****

Some recolors of Veranka’s 3t2 Back to Retro Refrigerator done in modern, mostly geometric graphics, also some fruit.  Again, I can’t really be more helpful than that.  Here at GoS.

*****

Nabila’s recolors (maybe just one recolor?  I think there were more than that though) of Adele’s Persianesque Jars.  Well, it’s just one jar since the other is repositoried.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** Guess what else I found.  Turns out there are five recolors, I don’t know if they’re all by Nabila but I think so, and I’ve reuploaded them here.  The edited meshes are included, PersianesqueUrn02 is the repositoried one.  I did not include Adele’s original recolors, hence why the file names start at Recolor03.  If you download these, you should probably rename them to fit with your other files.

*****

Some icicle-type string lights - the kind that are multiple vertical strands of lights hanging from a main horizontal wire - that were definitely not by Honeywell or ATS.  There are two different sets I’m looking for: the first one is alternating short and long zigzag strands on straight horizontal wire.  The wire came in green and black, pretty sure the lights just came in white/clear, although that might just be the only color I kept.  The second set was more delicate-looking, smaller lights on thinner wire, the horizontal wire part is curved/concave on these.  Not sure if they came with any recolors.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** The first set on the straight wire is by someone who labels their creations “tig,” which led me to poke around MTS a bit but to no avail.  The second set is by DOT from T$R and can be found in their section in the Booty as icelighting.zip, but I’ve included both sets in the same RAR here.  They are edited just like everything else I’ve reuploaded.

*****

At one point someone made a set of concrete walls and floor in two patterns - “streaky” and “mottled” - with...ten to twelve eight shades of grey each.  This one is frustrating bc I’ve been rather specific with Google and it feels like it knows exactly the thing I’m talking about but won’t show them to me on purpose.

***UPDATE 02.24.23*** Yarrr, it’s the last o’ me loot.  You might have noticed a recurring theme...Error 404: Creator Name Not Found.  Sorry about that, and if you know who made any of the mystery items listed, message me.

I found it all, and then some.  Many thanks to the wonderful community members who helped me put my game back together, I am forever grateful.  Thanks also to The Computer Store (yes, really) in Columbus, Ohio, for not just recovering my data but actually bringing the whole machine back to life.

[dreamscape-popstar]

The Death and Life of Justice

Chapter 4: A World Called "Home"

CW: None

Story under the read more!

It was a typically normal day on the Black Comet, when everything remained still and peaceful. The Comet was similar to that of any other heavily populated place. Lines of houses and neighborhoods wrapped all along the Black Comet. And in the center stands a giant castle.

Inside the looming castle lived the leaders of an alien race called the Black Arms. The founders came together from the now dead planet of PetalBloom and started an uprising, causing discord and spreading chaos around the universe. And that they did. Once they made their mark on the crumbled planet, they found a new home, the Black Comet.

It was a normal day on the Black Comet, where the stillness was disrupted by the sudden appearance of two bloodied humans. Down the hall walked the first founder of the Black Arms, Black Doom. Arms crossed behind him, he walked peacefully towards the disruptive scene. 

Just as suddenly as the humans appeared, one fell unconscious due to shock. The other one cried out their name as they fell. She tried to catch her partner but failed as he thumped onto the ground. 

"Causing trouble, young lady..?" Black Doom inquired the bloodied human. The young lady looked up at them, and wiped the tears from her eyes. 

"Ah- I guess I did make quite a mess ehehe," she laughed. She stopped laughing and frowned again, looking at her fallen partner, sighing.

She stood up, and picked them up bridal style, struggling to keep her balance."Sorry…I didn't mean to disturb you like that… I got scared one of us would get hurt…"

Black Doom laughed softly, placing a hand on her head. "No need to apologize, young one. I understand your situation." Doom analyzed the lady.

"Must you wear that horrid form though…?" he inquires.

"Mhm", she nods and gestures towards the person in her arms with her head, "she hasn't seen my true form yet. I don't want to stress them out when he awakens." Doom nods and assists the young lady to her room.

From inside her bedroom hangs a bunch of glowing paper stars from the ceiling. A giant center paper crescent moon sits in the middle. Her bed is a double bed with a purple lace curtain draped over it. She places her partner on the bed, and kisses them on the head, activating a transformation sequence. She hurries to her bathroom, to take a shower and clean the blood off of her.

Her partner's body moves in discomfort. It slowly shifts into a more alien-esque form. Their skin was more rough and bright orange with a darker red gradienting at the tips of their fingers. Horns grow rapidly at the top of their head, and their nose becomes more prominently hooked than before. A yellow pattern marking appears on their left cheek. 

The lady rushes out of the bathroom with a pair of new clothes, putting her hair up in space buns in the process. She runs over to her sleeping partner, who squints at her.

"Jasmine…? 'Issat you?" they ask weakly. The young lady, apparently named Jasmine, nods. 

"It is still me, Justice dear. Are you okay? Why did you faint like that…?" Jasmine asks, frowning worriedly.

Justice instinctively holds his head with his hand. "Ahh… bein' pistol whipped by that asshole. He really fucked me up bad." Justice groans at the pain. 

Behind Jasmine scoffed Doom. "This much swearing could give me a migraine" he thought.

Jasmine's eyes widen as she turns around, "Ah- my apologies sir-"

"Your apology is unnecessary, dear. Just… keep them under control." 

Jasmine nodded, "Could you make us some tea, if it isn't too much trouble?"

Doom smiled, "Of course young one."

Jasmine smiled then looked back towards Justice. Justice felt around their face, feeling the rough texture of their skin. Her ears were more pointed, and she had horns on the top of her head. Sitting up, she looks down, not making eye contact with Jasmine.

She studies her hands,"So… what even am I?"

"You are officially a part of the Black Arms," Jasmine smiled at her.

"I… I knew there was something off about you hehe. Alien, huh… " she sighed. "So… what do you actually look like?" Justice asked, looking back at Jasmine once more. Jasmine reached out her hand, and Justice grabbed it. Helping them stand up, Justice anticipated his partner's next move.

Jasmine let go and stood back. She flashed bright green and transformed, growing taller and taller until suddenly she towered over Justice. Justice, reasonably, stood shocked. "Jasmine" smiled sweetly at him. 

Black Doom appears in the doorway, a tray of tea in hand. "Lady Tea, your brew is ready…" he called out.

Justice stared at Doom, who also towered over him. Mouth gaping, he was at a loss for words. Tea rushed over to Doom to take the tray of tea, and set it on her vanity desk, Justice eyes following her as she moved.

Their mind raced once more with so many thoughts. Tea looked down towards Justice.

"What is wrong, darling?", she asks.

Justice looks down, face hot with embarrassment. "Short…" she whispers in the mental link, "I'm… still short…"

Tea and Doom both look at Justice, and then at each other. "She's too short!-"

"It's okay to be a little short!" Tea calls out, hastily trying to cheer their partner up. She places her hands on his shoulders, trying to make eye contact.

Justice sighs, avoiding eye contact, "Couldn't even spare me a couple inches like this…." He shakes his head.

"W-Well-" Tea wracks her brain for a thought, something to make them feel better, "t-the inches went somewhere else instead!" she stutters out and winks. 

Justice stares blankly at her flushed face, then snorts. Black Doom behind them stifles a small chuckle.

"Ahahahaha!" He laughs loudly. "Okay, okay, that was good. Maybe I don't feel so bad anymore. That better be true though," he raises an eyebrow. 

"I cannot confirm nor deny that you have gained any genital growth since assimilation," Tea states flatly.

Justice chuckles. "So, Tea is your name?"

Tea nods. "Mhm! I am Black Tea Rojo. And you, my dear, are Rojo Justice."

"Rojo Justice…" Justice repeated. "I like it. Still gonna be Justice Redd in my heart though." 

"Of course~, you can be whatever you want, darling," Tea smiles as she grabs a cup of tea and hands it over to Justice, and then grabs her own. The two sit down on Tea's bed and chat for a while, Justice learning about who Tea really is and her culture.

Black Doom, smiling, leaves the room. "Sendrir will love someone like him…" he thought to himself.

-☆☆☆-

Hours pass as Justice and Tea continue talking. Tea mentions how all the Black Arms leaders were her family.

"According to my mama, I was abandoned as a baby back on PetalBloom. I was born during the new century and during the chaos that broke out," Tea explained calmly, "it had seemed as if my own parents abandoned me. For what, I never found out. The blindness in my eyes, or just being an infant at the height of a war. They left me behind and without a word."

Justice looked down, saddened by Tea's troubled infancy. In a way, she related to it.

"Sorry that happened to you…" Justice sighed. Tea looked at them, feeling their sadness.

"Did…you have a similar experience…?" she inquired. Justice nodded quietly.

"I was kind of abandoned by my parents too. They… didn't want a boy, so, they just kinda. Dropped me off somewhere. I was left alone for what felt like years. But some person found me and I was put into an orphanage. One that treated me badly. From that day, I learned that nobody truly cared about me. So, I sorta shut myself off from the world. Never wasted any energy caring for someone." 

Tears formed in their eyes. The frustration of the world finally caught up to them. Every single moment of their life was nothing but mistreatment. They eventually grew numb to the pain, but ever since Tea came into their life, they finally found warmth. So, when they reminisce on their past, those mental walls they spent building to save them from it all, have all crumbled down, leaving them vulnerable. And that pain is what they're feeling for the first time. 

Tears flood out of their eyes, sobs choking them up. Tea, saddened by his tale, hugs him tightly. She places a kiss on the top of his head, letting him know she understands his pain.

"I- I'm sorry," they sob, "I don't know why I'm crying…" he whines. His vision blurs with tears.

"Shhh," Tea shushes him, "it's all okay. It is okay to cry… you are not weak for being vulnerable. In fact, you are very strong." Tea reassures them.

Justice sniffles. "Sorry for interrupting your story… You can go on babe." He wipes his eyes. Tea smiles warmly at him.

"You never need to apologize for something like this. But yes, I will continue."

Tea takes a moment to think. Then continues her story.

"Right. I was left abandoned during the war, until someone had come into the house. They called out to see if anyone was around, and came across my room. I do not remember this, but mama told me she came into my room and saw me in my crib, alone. She made a remark about who would leave a baby behind, and took it upon herself that she'd be a better caretaker than whoever abandoned me. And she was right."

Tea smiled warmly thinking about it. Justice smiled at her lost in her thoughts.

"Like I stated before, I do not remember much of my infancy, but mama told me stories about myself when I was super young. The other leaders were surprised at the concept of their Rojo Sendrir being the first parent of the bunch, especially at her age. They were still very welcoming towards me. Black Widow and Black Doom always enjoyed my presence. Miss Lillian loved to take care of me when mama was busy. Vladmira enjoyed my infant babbles, and obviously Black Death tried to avoid me. And dear Tsunami, she was so excited to have a friend."

Justice interrupted, "Did this Death guy not like you?"

Tea giggled, "Ahh… One could assume. Black Death… is very grumpy. He was the least happy about my appearance, and even less happy about my womanhood. He never liked me per-say, but he relished in me being another male in the Black Arms. But… that did not last long when I had come out as a girl. He got very spiteful after that. I do not blame him much, he is only angry at what he does not understand. I know he means well…" Tea sighs.

"He sounds like an ass to me. Being angry because you're happier as a girl, ugh." Justice scoffed. 

Tea clears her throat, "I know it sounds awful, but there is so much more to him than just that," Tea pauses, "but yes, he sometimes is a bit of an ass. But we all love him despite that."

Justice laughs a little, "Okay, fine." Tea's eyes widen. "Oh! That reminds me!"

She gets up and reaches her hand out to Justice, who takes it. "On the topic of my mama, why don't you come meet her! She'll love you!"

Justice hesitates, but lets Tea lead her across the winding halls and rooms of the castle. They walk for a bit until they end up in the kitchen, where Tea lets go of Justice's hand and runs up to a taller and blue-ish green lady.

"Mama!" Tea greets the lady as she wraps her four arms around Tea.

"My little Tea Leaf!" Sendrir replies, hugging Tea tight. "Where have you been, you little troublemaker!?"

Tea twirls back and forth, looking bashful, "I went on a cop killing spree!~" Sen gasps and claps all four hands.

"My little baby is all grown up!!" Sen cries as she celebrates her daughter's victory.

"Oh, mama! I wanted you to meet someone!" Tea says as she grabs Justice's hand and moves him closer. "This is my partner, Justice!"

Justice nervously smiles, taking in the fact that Tea's mom has four arms. Sen squeals loud enough to make everybody else think that a tea kettle went off.

"MY LITTLE TEA HAS A GIRLFRIEND AAAHH!!!" She cheers as she hugs Tea and Justice in the tightest embrace. Sen lets go and places her lower hands on Justice's shoulders.

"Welcome to the Black Arms! We will do our best to make you feel at home!" 

Justice smiles, "Ah, thank you ma'am…" 

Sen purses her lips. "No need to be so formal, you're family now! Call me mama from now on!" She exclaims as she hugs Justice again. Justice shakes as tears form in his eyes. This time he really can't hold it in. Tears flood out of his eyes as clutches onto Sen.

"How hurt was this one?" Sen asks Tea telepathically.

"Very hurt," Tea replies.

"Whoooo boy…" Sen says to herself. She caresses the top of his head, letting him sob into her. It wasn’t much, but it was the best she could do. Tea joins in on the hug, wanting Justice to know as many people care about her as possible.

Justice sobs for a few more minutes, until he lets go and wipes his eyes. Tea plants a kiss on their cheek and smiles gently. “We love you Justie.~” she coos at them.

“Yeah! And we’ll love you forever! Ya hear that, kid?!” Sen exclaims as she ruffles their hair. Justice laughs weakly.

“Now that you’re apart of the family…,” Sen continues, “you wanna hear a funny story about Tea when she was a baby?”

Tea shouts aloud, “I do, I do!!” Justice giggles at Tea’s enthusiasm and nods. Sen wraps an arm around Justice and Tea and begins to start her story. Justice, smiles genuinely.

Today is the first day of life for Rojo Justice, and one that she’ll cherish forever. Finally home…

[dolenphic]

Types Of People (pt.4) shades of red

BITTERSWEET -

old European churches, a voice from the past, always wandering & worrying about things they shouldn’t, reserved & mysterious, likes broccoli, still has a CD player, reading about mythology, a bit lazy, too many many playlists, tracing their finger on sand, takes long showers, loose ponytails, birthmarks, roaming on the sidewalk, great cooks, hikes in the forest, picnic in the woods, attending operas, quick cheek kisses, skip classes, has a brown cat, smell like flowers, reads silently, old family recipes and plants all over the house, crying softly at 4am, taking pics of sunsets, staring at the moon, hates eye contact, braiding their friends hair.

BRICK RED - 

shy laughter, admires little things, wish they were a bird, loose clothes, freckled arms, likes minimal necklace, walls covered in artworks, hypnotizing mouth, brown hair, carpeted floor, old soul, hugs trees, ancient sculptures, known for their sincerity, staying in uncrowded coffee shops, learning languages, very patient, never breaks a promise, gives good compliments, scented candles, writes in a black diary, backpacks everywhere, candy lover, early riser, soft skin, spray paints, autumn, checker patterns, park dates, rosy cheeks, patterned socks, swapping pens for pencils, jasmine, can eat spicy food, drawing on sidewalk with chalk.

RED - 

pale skin, bad grades, wild, blurry photos, ripped jeans, dark hair, the rare smile that melts anyone, dark chocolate, need hugs, cutest puppy eyes, unmade beds, never replies, scraped knees, energy drinks, bodies full of stories, icy breathe, spray painted wall murals, not one to follow the rules, deep conservations, painted hands, watches conspiracy videos, road trips, late night calls, twinkling eyes, bruised knuckles, loyal, argumentative, cigarette smoke, loves challenges, pastries and chocolate, vans, feels most alive during stormy nights, can be rude, secret kinks, disappearing randomly, will help you hide a dead body, listens to instrumental music

SCARLET - 

face masks, iced teas, morning runs, a bit sad, sarcastic, thin white shirts left on the floor, tan lines, expensive perfumes, dirty jokes, cheats in tests, mischievous looks, drawing on mirrors, old films, getting love calls from all around, chandeliers, expensive taste, pretends to be calm all the time but is actually internally screaming, a bouquet of roses, drama & gossip straight ahead, breakfast in bed, holding hands under table, notices a lot of details, blooming with creativity when left alone, cold feet, flawless posture, nice eyebrows, trying to neat and tidy but failing, has 3 cute dogs, knows all the best restaurants in town.

RED ORANGE - 

never sleeps, trips to zoo, ice lollies, cheerful grins, bounce in their steps, buys you food, dandelion crowns, dancing in the rains, lazy smiles, small but furious, sunlight seeping through the curtains, city parks, graceful dancing and jumping on the bed, poses in front of the mirror, can’t ever stop fidgeting with their hands and legs, beach trips, stomach like a bottom less pit, owns way too many candles & is probably is a fire hazard, always have energy, laying down on soft grass, would kill for the ones they love, dumps a ton of toppings on their ice-cream, has a crush on everyone, quick winks, warm eyes, has more than 5 stuffed toys. 

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Very colorful, fun, Islington Apartment, UK, done by the Home Studio design team, at Avocado Sweets. LOTS of great ideas, here. Why not paint your shelving in bright colors, like this? The bulbs are covered in little knitted “sweaters.” 

I love the DIY lighting- colorful wires, just looped and coiled, suspended from hooks. Notice all the ideas to hang things, mud room style, on a living room wall, and making it look decorative. 

Lego wall for adults & kids. 

The kitchen has two large openings to the yard.

Fun kitchen has a blue stove and two blackboard walls.

This is nice- chippy vintage metal chairs, an old medical cabinet for storage, and a beautiful antique mirror in the dining area. The built-in bench is constructed of vintage shiplap.

The master bedroom has stick-on mirrors on the wall and brown and gray tones with a bit of a pop of color in a painting above the bed.

Nice patterned tile in the shower and a bright orange Lucite backsplash.

A daughter’s room features colorful curtains and a bright yellow chair at a vintage school desk.

This bedroom is predominately blue with a red desk chair. I like how they did the painted pegboard and randomly painted the cubbies in a printer’s tray with neon colors.

A giant ruler is a growth chart for the children.

The children’s bath has waterproof wall covering around the tub.

https://www.homestudio.london/project-listings/islington-apartment-4b36r

[kinopioa]

Garfield like many newspaper comics has had a history of recoloring old strips when digitized. Here's a comparison of 4 sources for this May 14th, 1995 Sunday strip

OG Newspaper/Treasury 9 (sorry for cam quality)

Jon's wearing white boxer shorts with red polka dots. The top tiles and rug are watermelon pink, with a cross pattern of white tiles separating it from green wall tiles. The floor is checkerboard green and shiny white, and shower curtain is green with yellow fish. The shower wall is a rich cyan blue, and floor siding is a dark grey. The brass showerhead, mirror frame, and piping add a dash of yellow, and Garfield, Jon, and the shower wall have a cast shadow. Jon's skin is pinker than modern day

If you couldn't tell, I like the colors here. Coloring might be analog surprisingly, as Garf experimented as early as 1993 for Digital coloring

Next is the 1998 20th Anniversary book (cam quality, overcrushed blacks in first)

A drastic change. Jon now sports blue with pink spotted boxers, is standing on a red with green trimmed rug, floor tiles became mono blue, and the sink and showerhead became mono white. The wall tiles become a basic checker pattern, curtain is orange with yellow fish, and while Jon's cotton wifebeater gained shadow, the character shadows and shower shadow either were removed or changed. Shine for the sink, tub, and floor tiles are removed. Jon's aftershave also isn't a different color from skin, which notably is tanner

Lines also were weirdly aliased. It was the only strip in the book that had that, so it was probably a digitizing error for linework. As implied, the coloring is digital

Next are the 2003 Website source, and the later Gocomics web source

Colors are bright in the 2003 web version due to being intended to be dulled when physically printed cuz CMYK shenanigans. If I remember, the strip in the colored Garfield Tons of Fun: His 29th Book is basically an in between of this and the Gocomics version

interestingly, it seems to take cues of the original version, with some minor difference;

-Lineweights are thicker

-The shower wall is colored similarly to the main wall tiles, with removed shadow

-the towel now has lighting

-Curtains are yellow with red fish

-Shadows and tub/sink shine are still missing

-Jon's skin is not as tan as the 1998-early 2003 period, instead being a more modern inbetween

Honestly it's interesting seeing that Paws inc had an early digital recolor in 1998, but then scrapped it for the 2000-2003 mass recolor development of 1978-Sep 11th 1999 strips. 1998 coincidentally was when they stopped the Treasury series

[sapphire-dreamsky]

Red Night

Starring: Ryomen Sukuna, Curse!Reader, OCs

Pairing: Sukuna x Curse!Reader

Warning: Death of minor characters.

A/N: It's kind of a historical AU? I mean Sukuna has his original form, and it takes place in the past. But it's also historically innaccurate😅. I apologise in advance.

In retrospect, (y/n) knew it was fruitless. The gap between curses and humans was far too large. It was already set in the humans’ heart, the fear which accompanies ‘their’ apparition. By ‘their’ they mean curses of course. People were so scared of them that the mere utterance of their name, in their superstitious mind, meant immediate death. 

But (y/n) wanted to believe in the hope that one day, curses and humans could understand each other. She wanted them to be able to make a compromise so that both can live in peace. This shouldn’t be impossible. Curses are born from humans. Some humans even become curses. But that hope was squashed down as the townspeople grew to fear her. 

Sukuna watches as the town which once worshipped the ground (y/n) walked on, were now chanting her demise. They brought forth their pitchforks, their torches all in the hopes of killing the abomination. The abomination they once worshipped as if she was a goddess. Well, she was one in his eyes. A foolish, naive goddess, but still his. 

The woman looked around her, eyes gleaming in the orange glow of the fire. She so desperately wanted to turn back time. She wonders where it all went wrong. Did all her good deeds disappear as quickly as the day turned into the night? Her mind takes her back to a few months back. When she was arguing with her king.

“You are being foolish, (y/n). I once was a human exterminating curses. I know how the human mind works. They will hate you whatever you do.”

“But Sukuna, don’t you want a world where we can both live freely? Without the omnipresent fear that humans will always want to kill the likes of us?”

“I live for killing humans. I live for the carnage. But if you’re so stubborn, go on to that town down our mountain. Prove me wrong if you so desire to get along with these pests.” Sukuna rolled his four eyes, four arms crossed on his chest. He could care less about living with humans. He thought that the life they were leading up that mountain was enough. No one could disturb them there. But no, (y/n) had to have this stupid idea in her pretty little mind. Sometimes the King wonders how she became a curse with so much kindness and compassion in her heart. He could hardly see her curse anyone. She was too kind for her own good. That’s a part of her personality Sukuna cannot get rid of.

And so she headed down to the town at the foot of the mountain they were residing at. She remembers their warm smile as they welcome her into their ranks. She looked like them after all. Mere humans wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between human curses and themselves. They merely thought that her tattoos were among one of the oddities which she had. She stayed in the town for six months. Six blissful months where all their woes disappeared thanks to (y/n). She healed the young and elderly to her best abilities despite using curse energy. She helped the crops grow even during floods. The town is prospering more than ever since her arrival. And so, they made a shrine for her. They showered her with praises, thanking the gods for sending their messenger to their town. 

Sukuna watched from the temple as his lover went and made friends around town. He watched her giving her warm smiles to children as they tugged on her kimono for attention. He watched her become known as the merciful goddess of that town. The king of curses didn’t know what to think. Her ideas were foolish. Humans and curses can never coexist. That’s the truth. But he let her run around. He only watched from a distance because he knew that he was the one who would be right. It won’t be long before she realizes that humans were monsters in sheep’s clothing. It won’t be long until she comes back to his side.

(Y/n) felt happy. She was glad that she could help the people. A positive feeling accompanied all the good deeds. The people were happy with her presence. ‘It won’t be long until they see that curses have feelings too!’ (Y/n) though ecstatically. What she didn’t know was that she gained the attention of not only the people living in the town but also those who ruled that town. And cruel was the man who watched the beautiful woman in the pink flower-patterned kimono as she walked around town carelessly, with an easy smile. He shall have her. She will be his newest concubine. He was the Lord of that land. Everything belonged to him. And that included that peculiar woman. Messenger of the gods or not, that had little importance in his eyes, for he was the Lord who ruled over everything. It didn’t matter if she was married or engaged, for he lived only for his own pleasure.

It was a cloudless day. (Y/n) was going to visit Sukuna again as was her habit. In her hand was a wooden basket an elderly woman crafted for her after learning she was going up to the shrine on the mountain. “Be careful,” said the elderly woman with a concerned tone, “I hear that there are wild animals up that mountain. It’s dangerous. No one goes there anymore because of them.” (Y/n) smile reassuringly at her. She knew for a fact that there were no wild animals. Sukuna was merely protective of the place he decided to claim as his own. The elderly woman was the first one who welcomed her to that town. She introduced to the young curse everything she had to know about the town’s custom and their cultures. To the curse, she was like a grandmother. The elderly woman had no family and was a widow. She lived alone in her house of stone on the outskirt of town. So, (y/n) took it upon herself to visit her as often as she could. She would often bake (y/n) some treats to repay her help around her house. The curse would often bring them up to Sukuna so that they could eat it together. The King was disgusted at first. But after much nagging, he relented and begrudgingly said that they tasted “alright”. That meant to (y/n) that they tasted good. That he liked them. So she would always bring him the treats the old widow prepared for her. Watching him enjoy something so simple makes her so happy. It’s like a reminder for her. A reminder that Sukuna used to be a human. Watching him eat is so grounding because she could pretend that they were normal. That they wouldn’t get shun should they decide to live amongst humans. She wanted to go to the market with her king. She wanted to do domestic chores that her parents used to do a long time ago. She wanted to go to festivals with her king even if he would complain the whole time. It was these little wishes which kept her trying to make peace with humans. She wanted Sukuna to enjoy something human. Something which would remind him that he too used to be human.

The road to the mountain was always quiet. It was not very used since people rarely travelled this way. But today, there was a very fancy carriage with some guards obscuring her usual route. (Y/n) came to a halt in front of the carriage, head cocked to the side, confused. The guards open the door and help a tall man down. He was a tall human with black hair and green eyes. He might have been handsome in humans’ standard. But he paled in comparison to her beloved grouchy King. He gave her what he considered his ‘best smile’. It was a grin really. It was so different from Sukuna’s. The grin of this human makes her uncomfortable. The grin of Sukuna made her feel butterflies in her stomach. It made her nervous in a good way. 

“Rejoice woman! For, the great ruler of the town has decided to make you his concubine! This is not a favour which is given to many. You are special in my eyes so get in the carriage and let’s head back to the palace immediately! I want to get acquainted with you, lovely flower.” The woman cringes. Sukuna who was rude and crass was finally not that bad. ‘There are people who are worse than him when trying to flirt, after all. How shocking.’ But nevertheless (Y/n) politely bows her head in apology. It would be bad if she upset the Lord since she wanted to get along with his people after all. “ I apologize, My Lord. There is already someone in my life at the moment. I’m certain, however, that you will find someone more fitting for the position you are offering.” With that, the young woman leaves the flabbergasted man behind and continues her road to the mountain. The road which led to the king of her heart. 

The man watches her leave in anger. No one was ever brave enough to simply brush him aside like that. How dare she humiliate him in front of his guards like that. The lord was turning red. With a cold cutting voice, he orders his guards to spread a rumour. ‘The pretty little woman will soon run begging for mercy at his feet.’ He thought, chuckling maniacally.

After she spent her night with her King who was attention-starved, not that he would admit it. He would rather fight a thousand shamans than admit that he missed his annoying woman. (Y/n) decides to go back to town to see if there was anything she could help with. Instead of the warm welcome, she always gets, all she receives is cold shoulders and glares. The people cowered away from her. ‘Could they know about my real identity?’ Worried, she decides to go to the one person who would tell her everything. The old woman’s shop was closed today. (Y/n) had to head to the house on the outskirts of town. Just going there took the young woman the whole morning. She knocked on the woman’ door. In the corner of her eyes, she sees a curtain move. The door opens quickly, a frail old hand grabs the curse and drags her inside before quickly shutting the door. 

“Oh my poor child. You should not have come back! You have to run away before nightfall!” (Y/n) looks at her confused. “But why?” The woman shakes her head gravely. “The lord of this town is awful. He takes whoever he wants. If they don’t go along with him, they are killed by the townspeople.” The curse recoils. Frozen in her shock, the elderly woman goes on. “He told everyone that you were a witch. You fornicate with the devil which is why you can heal, do so many miracles for us. Everyone is scared right now. They will-” 

A loud bang resonates. Shouts of anger can be heard from outside. The moon shines in red glows as torches illuminate the night. The old woman drags the curse to the side door and pushes her outside. “Go! I will distract them!” “Grandma, no! You have to come with me! I can protect us both!” The old woman shakes her head and smiles at the curse gently. “You might not be human, but your heart is kinder than most. This house means everything to me. I want to die between these walls.’’ The woman pushes (y/n) one more time. The curse watches as they condemn the human who has been so kind to her from the very first day. The curse watches as they burn this house to the ground. The memories she made with the woman burning and disappearing in the fire. Oh, how cruel humans can be.

Alerted by the smell of fire, Sukuna exits his temple and watches as the town below chases after his lover. Their torches and angry shouts can be heard in the silence of the night. Sukuna watches as his lover stands in the middle of the crowd. The lord watches in satisfaction from his home as they chase down the woman who humiliated him. Ready to intervene, Sukuna runs down the path leading to the little town.

(Y/n) shocked at the turn of the events, looks around her. These people that she helped in the past. These people who would always smile at her when she is passing through town. They were now cursing at her, wishing her dead. They killed one of their own because of a sin that she didn’t commit. Because of the old widow’s kind heart. Her eyes are glassy. She can feel a tear falling down. It hurts. It suffocates her. She can barely breathe as they keep on chanting her demise. The people she loved turned against her. Sukuna was right. Even without knowing what she truly was, humans would always chase away those who didn’t appear humans. 

And so, during that full moon, which would later be known as the Red Night, she burned that town to the ground without Sukuna’s help. She became their worst nightmare. Their worst fear came to reality as they angered the goddess. The lord who instigated all of this tragedy watches in fear as (y/n) burned his town to the ground. He would become the only living witness. He would later tell his children about the story of the goddess of his old town. The scar which marred with once flawless skin that he received from her would be the only proof of her very existence. The proof that you should not anger a curse. 

Sukuna held her as they went back to their temple. For once, he spared her of his snide comment. He doesn’t complain as she wets his kimono with her tears. His four arms encircle her form protectively. She might have been foolish but she was his. And the gods forbid, Sukuna took care of everything which was his. Even if they annoy him by forcing him to eat sweets, even if she would hug him without the fear that he would snap and kill her in an instant. Sukuna might not understand the concept of love, as a human, he loved no one but himself. But as a curse, he knew that he loved her as he let her sit comfortably in his lap. He knew he loved her when he let her make a home in his temple. She knew Sukuna loved her when he held her tight and never let go.

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 29 Part II

“You want me to what?” Nelly said, laughing. “I’m just about to wash my hair. I can’t.”

“Wash your hair?” said Buster, as though he’d never heard such a preposterous thing. 

“Yes, wash my hair. I told you before, I do it every Saturday.”

It wasn’t just the disruption in her toilette that made her hesitate. If staying at Buster’s bungalow was risky, stepping across the threshold of the Villa door when he was supposedly alone was downright dangerous. She didn’t trust that an important item hadn’t been left behind and that Natalie wouldn’t pop back in at any moment to retrieve it. She could also picture a sudden return due to illness, perhaps indigestion or the heat of the May sun.

“Poppycock,” said Buster, when she aired these fears. 

“How so?”

“They left for the train station at six this morning. Won’t be back for a whole week.”

“Yes, but …”

Buster told her all the ways in which her misgivings were foolish. “You can spend the night,” he added, in a teasing, tempting tone.

“I can’t,” she said. She ignored the instant flash of heat between her legs at his words.  

“Don’t you wanna see where I sleep?” 

The heat prickled. She did. “Do you think I’m that easy?” she said, not ready to quite surrender.

Buster laughed. “I do. Anyway, you can wash your hair here. I have a bathtub, you know. And a shower.”

Nelly gave it some consideration. “You promise everyone is gone?” she said at last. She wanted to add Your children, your wife, and your servants? but trusted he knew what she meant.

“Not a soul except you and me, sweetheart.”

“Okay, I give in,” she said. “Don’t think I think it’s a good idea, though, because I don’t.”

Buster showed up forty-five minutes later, parking a few houses down on Genesee Avenue. He had tipped her off that he was coming in a black Gardner car. It was rather ordinary-looking, his butler’s personal vehicle he’d said, and she understood why he’d chosen it. In the bright morning light, one of his luxury cars would have been more conspicuous than it was in the late evenings when he usually came around. He sat in the driver’s seat almost completely concealed behind a newspaper as she approached, carrying her handbag and a small satchel with some clothing.

“Good morning,” she said, after opening the passenger door and settling herself inside. She couldn’t help herself grinning ear from ear at the sight of him. It was only the third time she’d seen him since he’d returned from New York. 

“Morning,” he said, answering her smile. He folded the paper and tossed it in the backseat. “You ready to be queen of a castle for a day?”

“I will be a guest of the castle,” she said, raising an eyebrow. Joke or not, the idea of her somehow taking Natalie Talmadge’s place at the Villa made her uneasy. Thoughts of Mistress Nell Gwyn, which she’d long since finished reading, flashed through her mind. 

“Alright, guest then.” He turned the key in the ignition and then swung the car onto the road. 

After he had shifted the car up to a comfortable traveling speed, he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. She knew him well enough already to know that he wasn't the type to say things like ‘I missed you’ out loud, it just wasn’t him. The kiss said it all the same.

Truth be told, as much as Nelly was glad to see him, she was nervous to be even a guest at the Villa and not simply because Natalie could return at any moment. She could forget that Buster occupied a different world when they were at her apartment or the modest bungalow outside the M-G-M gates; she could not forget it amidst the splendor and sumptuousness of the Villa. Moreover, the Villa was Natalie’s territory, built with her in mind as Buster had once told her. It didn’t feel right sneaking around her house while she was gone. 

When Buster shifted down a gear again, he kept her hand in his so that her hand was also on the stick. He drove that way for several minutes, whistling, caressing her hand beneath his. Nelly was occupied enough without conversation, half fretting about setting foot inside the Villa, half wondering at the mansions of Beverly Hills, sprawling cream chateaus in the French and Mediterranean styles, most with red roofs. They all seemed to be variations of the Villa, or vice versa. 

Her stomach grew jittery as the meticulous, manicured hills of the Villa came into view. Buster went up the drive, still whistling cheerfully, oblivious to her discomfort. He pulled the car through the circle drive with the fountain, shifted down, and turned it off. 

“M’lady,” he said gravely when he opened her door. She handed him her satchel and he took her hand with his free one and helped her down. The fountain burbled pleasantly as she looked up at Buster’s palace. She should have been bright with anticipation, but all that she felt was a gnawing dread. 

“Sure they’re gone?” she said. 

“Sure as anything,” Buster said, burying his face in the side of her neck and kissing it abundantly. For once, it failed to distract her. 

“Alright.”

He took her hand again and pulled her up the steps and to the mahogany door with its interlocking diamond-patterned metalwork. Electric light burned in the large black iron sconces by the door even though it was day. Still holding her hand, Buster turned the door handle and pushed inside. Nelly was now back in the dimly lit vestibule with the red-brick floor. The house was cool and had a distinctive smell, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, which announced that a particular family lived there. It was larger and more sober than she remembered without its gay partygoers. She followed Buster into the foyer. With the great stone staircase and wrap-around stone balcony encompassing the upstairs, the house really did feel like a castle. 

“Loosen up,” Buster said, setting down her satchel and giving her shoulder a squeeze. 

She attempted a smile. “I’m sorry.”

“I wanna show you around,” said Buster. Nelly bent to get her satchel and he tugged her away. “Leave it. We’ll get it later. You can hang up your bag, too.”

Reluctantly, she looped the strap of her bag around the hook of an opulent hall tree. It too appeared to be made of mahogany. Their feet echoed on the marble checkerboard floor. 

“This is the breakfast room,” Buster was saying as they went up some steps and into a smallish room with a simple white wicker table and matching chairs. Heavy curtains were drawn over the windows. He paused to let her gaze around her for several moments before leading her down another set of steps and into a room with a tiled floor, a trickling marble fountain topped with a cherub, and numerous palms and ferns. “And this here’s the conservatory on account of all the plants.” Nelly could only stare, marveling that there was an entire room just for plants. “The kids like playing behind ‘em, the plants, but I don’t much see the purpose of a conservatory,” Buster said, almost to himself. “That’s what it is though, and this next room’s the dining room.”

They ascended another small set of steps. Only one leaf was in the table and only four chairs were gathered around it though additional chairs sat against the walls. It was a table, in other words, for a family of four. It more than anything else she’d seen so far reminded Nelly of Buster’s other life, his real life, the part that she was shut off from. Clearly excited to be showing her around, he still hadn’t noticed her uneasiness, so she smiled and praised the pretty painted ceiling beams and the large, expensive oriental rug that the dining set was placed on.

“Servants are on this side, too, and so’s the kitchen. I’ll show you the kitchen later if you want.”

Next he took her back to the foyer and they went left into the living room. Nelly remembered from the party and said so. It was more cavernous than she’d recollected. There was the great stone fireplace, the sofa, some chairs and a side table with a fresh arrangement of flowers. She noticed another palace-sized oriental rug, a mirror, and a coal box. There were so many expensive items to catch her eye. Before she had time to adjust, Buster was pulling her in another direction. 

“I call this my playroom.” 

The playroom contained a big billiards table, a bar, and a small table the precise size for four card players. The ceiling was wood-paneled and beamed. A phonograph player and armchair sat off to one side.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, and added in a moment of honesty, “It’s a lot.”

Buster came up and put his arms around her waist, resting his head on her chin. He smelled like cigarettes and Brilliantine. She could tell he was feeling amorous, but she was too tightly wound to relax into his arms. “Why don’t you show me the grounds?” she said, to head him off. 

He withdrew his arms, seeming to catch on that she wasn’t in the mood. “Why, sure.”

They went out of a loggia off of the living room and Buster let her explore the grounds at her pace. For some reason, even though she was more exposed outdoors to anyone who might be around, she felt more secure. Buster’s sense of opulence was not restricted to the interior. Nelly saw the tennis court and push-button trout stream, and walked down to the extravagant pool, which looked tempting and refreshing as it glinted in the sun. She sat sideways in a pool chair and rubbed her ankle absently. “It’s a lot of space, isn’t it?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Buster agreed. He pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lit it. He stood smoking and looking into the pool. 

“I’m afraid I find it all a little overwhelming,” she said. 

“Oh, I can tell,” said Buster, redirecting his gaze to her. “There ain’t no need to feel that way, you know. It’s a house, is all.”

“It’s a palace, Buster. It’s marvelously beautiful, it’s just …” She looked around her.

“Hmm.” Buster closed the space between them and sat next to her.

Nelly touched his knee. “I just forget sometimes that you’re King Charles and I’m Nell the orange-seller.”

“Bull,” said Buster. 

Nelly traced patterns on his knee and didn’t answer. The water in the pool lapped in a soothing way and smoke from his cigarette drifted into her face.

“So what’s your castle in the air, then?” said Buster, waving away the smoke.

“Me?” She looked into his eyes. “You know, silly. A Shakespeare talkie. What comes after, I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far.”

“No, I mean when it comes to real castles. What would you do different?” He inclined his head at the Villa.

“Oh, well … I’d shrink it down, naturally,” she said. “Maybe just one story or maybe a bungalow with a little room or two upstairs.” She’d never thought of what her ideal home might look like, but warmed to the idea at once. “It would have plenty of bookshelves and lots of books. Floor to ceiling. I’d have a collection of plays. Maybe I’d have a collection of records, too. There would be space to dance.”

“Even if you were a star?”

“I suppose. I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine having so much money.”

“Easiest thing in the world to spend money if you’ve got it. Everyone does when they do.” Buster flicked the spent cigarette to the marble flagstones and crushed it with his heel. 

Nelly placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be cross with me. You just have to let me get used to it. It all makes me so nervous.”

“I should have figured it would, the way you were acting at my party,” he said, in a somewhat sullen tone of voice. “Guess it’s my fault for asking you over.”

She kissed his cheek. “Give me a chance to get used to it. You know, maybe a drink would help.” She hadn’t shared a drink with him since his party, but figured it was the fastest path to getting more comfortable.

“You want a drink?” Buster said, brightening. 

“Yes. Make me a drink,” she said, squeezing his hand.

They went up the white marble steps past the impeccably trimmed topiaries that lined it and decorated its center and back through the loggia and into the living room. Buster led her into the playroom. “What’ll it be?” he said.

“Something that isn’t whiskey, please,” she said, taking a seat in the armchair. 

“Gin Rickey?” he said.

“That’s fine,” she said, not quite knowing what a Gin Rickey was but happy to find out. 

She stole long glances of the room as Buster stood with his back to her and mixed the drink. She could grow to like this room, she decided. Of all the places in the house she’d seen so far, it seemed the most like the man that she knew, always eager for a game of some kind, in love with his comforts. 

“Here you are,” said Buster, appearing at her side to hand her the drink.

It was clear and bubbly, garnished with a wedge of lime. She took a cautious sip and tasted pine and lime. “It’s delicious,” she said, smiling at him.

Buster returned the smile. “Good.” He went back to the bar to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Game of billiards?” he said, standing before her again.

Nelly took a generous swallow of the cocktail and although he was sure to have an insurmountable advantage over her said, “Sure.”

She went over to the billiards table and Buster walked over to the wall to push a button. To her marvel, a long, lavish metal light decorated with scrolls descended from the ceiling. He pushed another button and light was cast over the red-velvet billiards table. Buster smiled at her astonishment and flipped open a built-in cabinet, from which he selected a couple of cue sticks. He handed one to her. 

“Ready to get whupped?” he said. “Your turn first.”

“No, you,” she said firmly. “You need all the advantages you can get.”

Buster laughed. “You’re pretty confident, kid.”

It was a lie, of course. She’d never played the game well but didn’t want to show how green she was. She could at least try to mimic his form if he went first. He lifted the triangle away from the balls and went to the south end of the table holding the cue ball. She watched him place it in the left corner of the table and chalk the tip of his stick. Not missing a beat, he laid his left arm on the table and threaded the cue through his forefinger, then pulled his right arm back. It seemed as though he barely tapped the cue ball, but the pyramid of balls went scattering. “I call stripes,” he said, after watching to see where all the balls went.

Nelly took a large gulp of her drink and set it on a nearby table. She was remembering Buster shooting billiards in a film whose name escaped her. Each shot had been impossible. “How did you do those trick shots in that one picture of yours?” she said, grasping her cue stick. 

“Sherlock, Jr.?”

“I think that was the one.”

“What’ll I get for telling?” he said, lifting an eyebrow.

“I’ll let you win, perhaps,” she said. 

That made him laugh. “It was practice. Four god damn months of practice. I had a teacher, one of the best players there is, and it still took us five days to get all the shots. Quit stalling, though. It’s your turn.”

Nelly stuck out her tongue and leaned over the table as she’d seen Buster do.

“No, no, no, you didn’t chalk your stick.” He took it out of her hands and wiped the piece of chalk around the tip. “Here.”

Rolling her eyes, she took the stick back and again set up her shot. She aimed at a solid green six-ball and shot. Instead, she hit a striped eleven-ball and didn’t get anywhere near any of the pockets.

“Oh Nelly,” said Buster, laughing. 

She didn’t mind that she was going to lose to him. It was worth it to see the way his grin lit up his face. “I’m deliberately putting you at your ease,” she said, narrowing her eyes and lifting her nose. She wandered over to her glass of Gin Rickey and finished it. 

“Want another?” said Buster, gesturing. 

She nodded.

They went on like that for the next half-hour, taking turns at the table. Buster beat her handily in three out of three games. “You can’t play at all,” he said with mild incredulity, after all of his balls were in their pockets at the end of round three.

Nelly set her drink (it was her third) on the table and hopped up onto the edge of the table. She was feeling happy and free and relaxed now. “So I told a fib,” she said, smiling and swinging her legs. “So what?”

Buster couldn’t hold back his laughter. “You’re awful bold.” He positioned himself between her legs and tilted his head up for a kiss. She pressed her mouth to his, tasting whiskey. “Want a lesson on form?” he offered. She shook her head, stroking her finger across his lower lip. “Well, what do you want?”

“You tell me,” she said. She traced a finger across his cheekbone and his eyelids grew heavy. His lips parted.

“It involve a bed?” he said, sounding dreamy.

“Maybe.” She grabbed the rest of her drink and finished it. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Second floor. C’mon.” Buster helped her down from the billiards table and took her hand again. She followed him up the grand stone staircase and onto the landing. He paused a few moments to unlatch a heavy wrought-iron gate. He led her through it and down a short hall, then took a right into a small circular vestibule with an intercom and dumbwaiter. Before Nelly had a chance to ask where they were, he pulled her through the next doorway.

She knew at once that the bedroom wasn’t his. There were too many feminine tells: a mint-green screen decorated with flowers, a lamp with a pink shade, French perfume bottles on a bureau. Buster was nibbling her throat, but Nelly was looking over his head at the photographs of his children hanging on the walls. He steered her over to the edge of the king-sized bed and pushed her to a seated position. It sat atop a platform and was the biggest bed she’d ever seen. He sat beside her and started working on the dress buttons at the back of her neck.

“Oh, we can’t,” she said, pushing his hands away. 

“Huh?” said Buster, looking affronted. “Why not? Thought you wanted to.”

“I do, but not on your wife’s bed. Buster, it would be wrong.” She stood up.

“Look, I never once made love to her on this bed.” He appeared confused. “No one’s made love on this bed. She don’t do that. Not with me, not with anyone.”

“It’s not just that. It’s—I don’t want to take her place anywhere. I don’t want to be in her room,” she said. Her head was fizzy with Gin Rickeys, but she was never more sure of herself. She turned on her heel and walked back to the vestibule. 

Buster’s footsteps followed her. He caught her arm. “Don’t be like that, I didn’t mean to upset you.” His face was so soft and pleading that she couldn’t stay angry with him. 

“I know you didn’t,” she said, though ignorance didn’t excuse his mistake. She stood dumbly as Buster ran a hand up and down her arm. 

“Want me to take you home?” he said, voice remorseful. 

“No. No, I don’t.” She smiled at his doubt and put her arms around him, softening further. “Let’s just stick to other parts of your house, alright?”

“Alright. Well, can I take you to my bedroom?”

She had to bite back another smile at his persistence. “Sure.”

A similar round vestibule preceded Buster’s bedroom. This led to a small hall which led into the main bedchamber. Both his room and his bed were half the size of Natalie’s. The curtains were drawn, making the room dark and cool. Nelly tried not to look too hard at the photographs. There was one of his sons in front of a large dressing mirror that connected his two bureaus. 

“I built that,” he said, thinking she was admiring the mirror and dressers. “Designed it myself. Gabe helped me build it at my old studio.”

She was surprised at this bit of trivia. There were very few areas into which Buster’s talents didn’t extend, it seemed. “It’s a handsome piece of furniture,” she said. She noticed that the picture opposite his sons’ had been turned onto its face and attempted to give it no more thought. 

“Sorry the bed’s not made, but the servants are gone for the weekend.”

“You can’t make your own bed?” said Nelly, turning to him and giving him a playful pinch. Her nervousness had begun to melt away again now that they were out of Natalie’s territory. 

“What’s the point? It’s just going to get mussed up if I make it.” He returned to kissing her neck and this time Nelly tried to force her nerves away. His lips were soft, his breath was warm, and that was all that mattered. 

In no time, they’d gotten onto the bed. Buster bent over her, his leg threaded between hers, kissing her fiercely and clutching one of her breasts. She ran her hands up and down his back as his tongue entered her mouth. The bed smelled like him and she imagined, vaguely, what it would be like to wake up next to him in it, tumbled in these expensive blankets and sheets; to watch him dress and get ready for the studio; to see him off with a kiss and spend the rest of the day in idleness and frivolity, waiting for him to return home so they could go to dinner or attend a party at Pickfair. She couldn’t make up her mind whether that sort of life would be the meaning of happiness or unbearably stifling. Realizing that her thoughts had wandered again, she brought herself back to the present by sliding her finger into the seam of Buster’s button-up shirt and easing one of the mother-of-pearl buttons from its hole. Buster withdrew his hand from her breast and knit his arms behind her back so he could do her the same courtesy, plucking open buttons as they kissed. When all buttons had been accounted for, Buster sat up and pulled his arms out of his sleeves, while she stepped off of the bed and out of her dress. 

“Now,” said Buster, when she was back on the bed. “Where were we?”

“You tell me,” she said, looking down at his lap. He was still wearing his dark grey trousers. 

He grasped her by her bare shoulders and steered her onto her back. As he crouched on top of her, caging her in with his hands and knees, she reached down to undo his trousers. Her fingers brushed against his erection and he moaned, appreciative of the contact. She let her lower instincts drive her when the buttons were undone. It was natural to stroke him just so, to lick at his ear, to tell him how hot he was making her, but these actions, done of intuition, left energy for her mind to resume its peregrinations. It took so little to make Buster happy, and was no great chore to content him in bed. He liked all the usual things that men did. None of the deviations that she’d heard whispered about Charlie Chaplin during his divorce seemed to hold any interest for Buster. He never desired sex to such a degree that it was burdensome. Admittedly, she felt just as passionate for him as he did for her, but she tried to consider what it would be like if she didn’t. She still didn’t see what the harm would be in indulging him, in keeping his bed warm. Too little payment for so great a debt. 

She clung to his neck and kissed it while he inched her knickers down. He entered her with a sigh a few moments later. He hadn’t mentioned a prophylactic and she hadn’t asked. It was easy to forget sense when he made love to her. She forgot, too, what time it was and that they were at the Villa. Instead, her mind coasted along currents of pleasure, following each one to its length until she encountered the next. 

“Flip over,” said Buster, pulling her out of the reverie she’d sunk into. 

“Hmm?” she said.

He withdrew from her body and sat up on his haunches. “Right here.” He patted a portion of the bed to indicate. “But with your head toward the mirror and your feet sorta pointed at the pillows.” He tugged off his undershirt.

Her heart pounded. They’d only ever made love on their sides or with Buster on top. She unhooked her brassiere, wriggled onto her stomach, and stretched out, her head facing the mirror. 

“Now, I’d like it if you…” He sucked in breath as he dragged a finger from the top of her neck to the slight swell above her bottom. “Get up on your hands and knees.”

Her pulse throbbed. To obey him would be downright wicked, not respectable, not ladylike, but the moment Buster made the request she perceived what a superb idea it was. She rose to the position that he wanted her in and arched her back. 

Two words. “Oh, Christ.” She had never heard his voice sound like that, dark and worshipful, like he was a pauper and had been handed a sack full of gold objects. 

He lined himself up behind her, and there was a quick mutual adjustment of legs and feet before he entered her. Following instinct again, she pushed back to meet him. She closed her eyes to savor the new pleasure. As a consequence, it took her a couple minutes to realize Buster’s reasoning behind the position. When she blinked her lids open, in such a daze that it felt like she’d drunk ten Gin Rickeys, she saw them in the mirror together, Buster rising above her backside with abs standing out in stark relief, one arm stretched along her back and anchored on her shoulder. His eyes met hers and she pushed back. Not breaking her gaze, he pushed forward. She’d never seen herself in such a way before, her arms splayed, her hair starting to fall out of its chignon, her breasts swinging with every push by Buster. His breath was fast and hard. He was muttering sweet things to her through his moans, Oh darling and You’re so good. For her part, she’d never been so excited. 

He wouldn’t last like this, but she sensed that he wasn’t meant to. She gave another push back and he broke against her with a choked cry. “I can’t, Nelly, oh I can’t …!” He doubled over her and clutched her breasts, gasping as he came in her. She met his uneven thrusts, grinding herself against him for all she was worth, craving those last frissons of euphoria before he withdrew. She lifted her eyes to the mirror and watched him pull out and collapse on his back against the mound of his pillows, his chest heaving. Her arms were sore as she drew alongside him, but the pain was distant. 

Only when she met his eyes did she realize what had just happened. Buster’s groggy look of pleasure was changing to fear. “I was trying to say, ‘I can’t stop,’ ” he said, feeling for her hand and squeezing her fingers when he found it. 

Impossibly, she’d forgotten that there was no barrier between them. She dipped a hand between her legs and encountered the excess wetness there. 

“I’m so sorry,” said Buster. She’d never seen such an expression of worry on his face.

She propped herself on her elbows, still half in a daze from their love-making. “Do you have a—where are your pants? Your handkerchief.” She had trouble commanding the words. 

Buster slipped off the bed and picked up his trousers, feeling in the pocket. Wordless, he handed her the white square of cloth. She wiped away as much of the wetness as she could. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she said, after she’d bunched up the cloth and thrown it clear of the bed. She was now beginning to feel worried, but only because he seemed so worried. “The chances are very, very small.”

He was standing at the foot of the bed running a hand through his disheveled hair. “If it comes to that,” he said, in a halting way that told her he was still arranging his thoughts. “If it does, I’ll help you sort it out no matter what. Okay?”

“I’m sure it’s fine. Come here.” When he was close enough, she pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed it. “Don’t worry.” In her head, she was counting up the days since her monthlies had appeared last week. She came up to eleven, not quite the midpoint. The midpoint was when most women conceived. She looked up at Buster. The furrow beneath his brows was deep. “Please. Stop worrying.”

He sat next to her and knit his hands together and stared ahead. She thought she detected a peculiar luster to his eyes. 

“Darling, it’s as much my fault as it is yours. I forgot too.” She reached out and brushed the hair back from his forehead. “There’s no point in worrying unless I’m late.”

“I won’t go without a thin from now on,” said Buster, as though he hadn’t heard her. 

Her head began to ache. The Gin Rickeys had worn off. “Please. Please stop worrying.”

Without any warning, Buster threw his arms around her and clasped her tight, so much that he took some of the breath out of her. He held her like that for several long moments, not saying a thing, before releasing her. “Alright, I will,” he said. 

“Good.” She held his cheek in her hand until he looked her in the eyes and she was satisfied at what she saw in his. “Now I’m the one who’s hungry this time. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Buster seemed to cheer up a fraction. His voice sounded a bit sunnier as he said, “What would you like?”

“Oh, anything. Whatever you want. I’m sure I’ll like it.”

Nelly thought they dressed more somberly than usual this time, collecting articles of clothing from the bed and floor and pulling them on without saying a word. Despite her reassurances to Buster, the weight of her predicament was beginning to settle on her. All the canteen lunches on the set of Steamboat and at United Artists had taught her that there were two choices for girls whose famous lovers had put them into a condition. They could go away for a period of confinement and give up the child when it was born. Or they were put in touch with a doctor who could take care of their situation. 

Buster disappeared as she was buttoning up her dress and she heard the faint sound of his voice from down the hall. He was speaking to someone. She froze. Natalie must be back. She looked around in horror and spotted a doorway to the left of the bureau. She hastened through it and found herself in a bathroom. Hiding in the shower would be absurd, but it was the best place to conceal herself. She decided to wait to hear if footsteps approached first. The seconds dragged on. Her pulse thudded and her head throbbed in an angry way. At long last, she heard someone enter the room, but there was just one set of footsteps. “Nelly?” Buster called. 

She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and made her way to the doorway. “Are you alone?” she said in undertones. 

Buster, who was standing at the foot of his bed, looked toward her in bafflement. 

“ ‘Course I’m alone. What do you mean?” 

Relief descended and she came back into the bedroom. “Who were you talking to?”

Buster gave her an odd look. “Caruthers. Ordering food.”

Although she was comforted to hear that Natalie had not made an unexpected return, she was dismayed to hear that someone else was in the house with them. “I thought you said everyone was gone?”

“They are,” he said. “I can’t go without Caruthers, though. He does all the cooking. And I need someone to fetch things if I need ‘em. I can’t just go out like you.”

“Oh,” said Nelly, somehow not feeling satisfied with this explanation. 

Buster gave her shoulder a squeeze. “He knows about us, anyway. And before you go worrying, he’ll never breathe a word. I trust him with my life.”

She wasn’t happy to hear that Buster had given away their secret. Though the butler had been friendly the night he had driven her home, she knew that servants gossiped. Perhaps male servants didn’t do it to the extent that female ones did, but she didn’t think it was worth chancing. “If you think so,” she said, not able to keep the skepticism from her voice. 

“Buck up,” said Buster. “Anyway, how else was I supposed to get you a nice dinner tonight?”

Tonight. The Gin Rickeys, the dark room, and the torrid love-making made her forget it was still daylight out, but of course it couldn’t be past two or two-thirty. She stepped toward the mirror and took in her disarrayed hair. “If he knows I’m here, I ought to fix my hair before I go back downstairs.”

Buster smiled and looked self-satisfied. “Ain’t no need for you to go anywhere. Go on and fix your hair, and I’ll call you when the grub’s here.” He took a silver brush from his bureau and handed it to her. 

She stayed in the bathroom until Buster yelled for her, not wanting to be caught in the room when the butler wheeled in a cart of food. It would be too uncomfortable. She stepped into the bedroom but didn’t see Buster. “Where are you?”

“In here.”

She followed the sound of his voice and, feeling cautious, went down the hall and into the vestibule where she saw Buster holding a silver tray with both hands. It held two or three covered dishes. He cocked his head at a dumbwaiter she had not noticed earlier where there was a smaller tray holding glasses and soda pop bottles.

“You grab those there,” he said.

She did as she was told and they went through another door of the vestibule and onto a balcony, where there was a small table and a few bistro chairs. “Oh my,” she said, as she caught sight of the view. The balcony was directly over the east portion of the house, which stretched out at an angle beneath them. That was not what had taken her breath away, however. From here, there was a perfect view of the marble steps, swimming pool, and tennis court, and sloping away from them, the estate wandered down to the great flower bed beside the winding drive that they had come up. It wandered farther still, past the palms and shrubs, and then there were mansions as far as the eye could see in every direction, beautiful mansions so well-arranged on the hills that they looked the very picture of an Italian town. That was where all of Hollywood lived, Marion Davis, Douglas Fairbanks, Mary Pickford, Norma Shearer, Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd, and here she was among them dining with Buster Keaton. For a minute, she felt far removed from her previous life in Evanston and her current one as a humble extra and prop manager, tasting what it must be like to be a movie star. 

“Like it?” said Buster, setting the tray on the table. 

Nelly nudged her tray next to his, considered the warm sun on her shoulders and the breeze, smelling earthy and almost living, and nodded. Maybe it was the view, maybe it was laughing and eating fresh strawberries and cream with Buster after they’d finished purée of potato soup and veal cutlets, but from that hour forward she took a better liking to the Villa and began to see it as he did. Her worries were, for the remainder of the evening at least, set aside.

Notes: Are you surprised by this chapter? I was. What I had in mind was just a nice rendezvous for Nelly with Buster at the Villa, but there was much more tension and conflict and unexpected directions than I’d thought. The length also got away from me, but I hope you won’t mind that.  It’s hard to explain, but when you’re writing--when you’re immersed in your characters--sometimes they just act on their own and you just follow. Did I intend for Buster and Nelly to have unprotected sex that resulted in Buster accidentally finishing in her? No. Did I intend for Nelly to be so resistant to Buster’s home, help, and all the rest? No. I just wrote and the characters’ natural actions suggested themselves without a single thought on my part.  I think I will wrap this chapter up for now and just call the next one Chapter 30, even though it takes place the same day and same place.  And yeah, that’s a photo of Buster in his bedroom. Dreamy, huh?