#using furniture for bathroom vanity

[scarlettecosplay]

Bathroom - 3/4 Bath Alcove shower - small transitional 3/4 white tile and porcelain tile mosaic tile floor and multicolored floor alcove shower idea with furniture-like cabinets, blue cabinets, a one-piece toilet, multicolored walls, an undermount sink, marble countertops, a hinged shower door and white countertops

[mcmansionhell]

namesake mcmansion

Howdy folks! Today's McMansion is very special because a) we're returning to Maryland after a long time and b) because the street this McMansion is on is the same as my name. (It was not named after me.) Hence, it is my personal McMansion, which I guess is somewhat like when people used to by the name rights to stars even though it was pretty much a scam. (Shout out btw to my patron Andros who submitted this house to be roasted live on the McMansion Hell Patreon Livestream)

As far as namesake McMansions go, this one is pretty good in the sense that it is high up there on the ol' McMansion scale. Built in 2011, this psuedo-Georgian bad boy boasts 6 bedrooms and 9.5 baths, all totaling around 12,000 square feet. It'll run you 2.5 million which, safe to say, is exponentially larger than its namesake's net worth.

Now, 2011 was an anonymous year for home design, lingering in the dead period between the 2008 black hole and 2013 when the market started to actually, finally, steadily recover. As a result a lot of houses from this time basically look like 2000s McMansions but slightly less outrageous in order to quell recession-era shame.

I'm going to be so serious here and say that the crown molding in this room is a crime against architecture, a crime against what humankind is able to accomplish with mass produced millwork, and also a general affront to common sense. I hate it so much that the more I look at it the more angry I become and that's really not healthy for me so, moving on.

Actually, aside from the fake 2010s distressed polyester rug the rest of this room is literally, basically Windows 98 themed.

I feel like the era of massive, hefty sets of coordinated furniture are over. However, we're the one's actually missing out by not wanting this stuff because we will never see furniture made with real wood instead of various shades of MDF or particleboard ever again.

This is a top 10 on the scale of "least logical kitchen I've ever seen." It's as though the designers engineered this kitchen so that whoever's cooking has to take the most steps humanly possible.

Do you ever see a window configuration so obviously made up by window companies in the 1980s that you almost have to hand it to them? You're literally letting all that warmth from the fire just disappear. But whatever I guess it's fine since we basically just LARP fire now.

Feminism win because women's spaces are prioritized in a shared area or feminism loss because this is basically the bathroom vanity version of women be shopping? (It's the latter.)

I couldn't get to all of this house because there were literally over a hundred photos in the listing but there are so many spaces in here that are basically just half-empty voids, and if not that then actually, literally unfinished. It's giving recession. Anyway, now for the best part:

Not only is this the NBA Backrooms but it's also just a nonsensical basketball court. Tile floors? No lines? Just free balling in the void?

Oh, well I bet the rear exterior is totally normal.

Not to be all sincere about it but much like yours truly who has waited until the literal last second to post this McMansion, this house really is the epitome of hubris all around. Except the house's hubris is specific to this moment in time, a time when gas was like $2/gallon. It's climate hubris. It's a testimony to just how much energy the top 1% of income earners make compared to the rest of us. I have a single window unit. This house has four air conditioning condensers. That's before we get to the monoculture, pesticide-dependent lawn or the three car garage or the asphalt driveway or the roof that'll cost almost as much as the house to replace. We really did think it would all be endless. Oops.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[prongsx]

THREE TIMES YOU TRIED TO SAY YOU LOVED JASON AND ONCE HE TOLD YOU

warnings: fluff, kisses, female reader. English its not my first language and this is the first time I have had the courage to post something.

Jason loves you. Simple and pure. You are all he thinks about when he wakes up and when he goes to sleep. It's like your name is engraved in his bones. The problem is that you love him too. He can see it in your puppy dog ​​eyes, in the softest touch anyone has ever had with him, in the kisses as if his life was at risk with every breath.

He is fine with loving you, with being devoted to you, with protecting you. But you loving him? He can't accept that, he doesn't deserve the love of someone so sweet and perfect. His killer hands don't deserve to be held and caressed by someone like you.

He wants to say he loves you, he really does, but something inside him wants to deserve it by saying it, wants to fight to deserve your love. The problem is that you seem desperate to say those three magic words, it seems so simple to you. But he won't let you say it first, no, you deserve more than that.

His apartment smells like Italian food, grilled chicken in the pan and pasta cooking as he stirs the special sauce Alfred taught him. He was really trying to impress you.

"It smells delicious, Jay," you hummed, sitting on the counter as you admired your boyfriend's back, his shirt exposing his muscular arms flexed constantly as he tended to the pans.

"I hope it tastes good too." he said, turning and kissing your cheek, one hand resting on your thigh, his blue eyes shining in the low light of the kitchen.

You both stayed silent, with those stupid smiles of lovers, your hands coming up to caress his jaw. Then it happened, he almost felt it happening, your eyes getting softer, your lower lip trembling, the touch more intimate. He'd always been good at reading people, especially you.

"Jay, I lo.." You were brutally abruptly interrupted when Jason shoved a spoonful of the warm sauce into your mouth, making your eyes widen in surprise.

"Is the salt okay? A lot of pepper?" He asked, trying hard to look innocent. There was no way he would let you admit it first, he didn't deserve this pure love you offered him.The disguise was enough for you to forget, at least for now.

♡♡♡♡

The second time, the relationship had been going strong for months enough for both of you to sleep at each other's houses. You spent most of the nights at Jason's safe house, but there was always a storage problem. Jason was too methodical with his own things, there was only enough space for his things.

"I thought about ordering Japanese" You said to Jason, as you entered his room, a toiletry bag in your hands. Then you froze.

There was a new piece of furniture in your boyfriend's room. A white dresser with a mirror, similar to a vanity. You looked at your boyfriend questioningly when he entered the room and he had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Oh, about that. Well, you always have to leave early to get your things from your place and you always complain about doing your makeup in the bathroom. So. Well." He said, his hands scratching the back of his neck, a little anxious. Maybe he was too exaggerated? Did you think he was taking the relationship too far?

The doubts dissipated when he felt your arms wrap around him and your face hidden in his chest, he hugged you back, his hands wrapping around your waist.

"Honey?" He called softly.

"You're adorable." You whispered against his chest. He smiled, grateful that you couldn't see the redness in his cheeks, he felt like a damn teenager. Then again, he felt his body tense up as you lifted your head and stared at him with your adoring eyes, he could almost feel the loving vibration of it.

"I lov..." His hands quickly left your waist and cupped your face, his lips pressing against yours, slowly running his tongue over your lower lip, using the techniques he knew left you too confused to think about.

And when you tried to speak again, he pushed you against the wall, his hands returning to your waist. And he made sure to try hard to make you forget your initial intention.

Almost there, he was almost there to finally speak.

♡♡♡

The third time you tried, he was half ready to speak, but you chose a moment he hated. The Waynes' dance. You looked beautiful, of course, the red dress did something to his heart. But he wouldn't let you say such sacred words in the midst of people he hated in part.

It was a soft song, his hands resting on your waist, your hands on his chest, your head raised looking at him as you danced to the rhythm of the music. Jason was beautiful, in your eyes, of course, he had that half-scowl look he always had at heartthrob dances but always softened when he looked at you.

"Who knew you could dance?" You teased, reaching out to fix his red tie, a loving smile on your lips. He let out a playful sigh but didn't respond, too focused on admiring you.

He almost rolled his eyes when you once again had that soft look in your eyes. For the love of God, how could someone be so absurdly loving and determined to express love?

Before you could open your mouth, he spun you around, changing the rhythm of the dance, the surprise making you forget what you wanted to say. There was no way he would let you share those words in a place full of people who didn't even deserve to look at you.

Weeks later, on a Friday night, you arrived at Jason's house tired. It was a friend's birthday party and you had gone out to a bar. You weren't drunk, just slightly cheerful and with flushed cheeks. You had worked all day and partied all night, your body taking its toll from the fatigue. When you staggered into Jason's living room, he gently picked you up.

"Fun night, honey?" He asked, a small smile.

"Yeah. But I'm so sleepy," you mumbled, leaning against him, your eyes closing.

You let him take care of you, sit you down on the bed and gently take off your dirty clothes, sliding one of his shirts over your body. He used one of those wet cloths he knew you used to take off your makeup and removed the pins from your hair, so gently that he was surprised himself. The same hands that had already killed people were now caressing your skin, taking care of you while all you did was babble and cuddle against him.

So when you two lay down, with him hugging you from behind and putting his hand on your belly, he whispered in your ear.

"I love you." He felt the slightest movement from you, but too tired to form words, it made him laugh at the thought of how furious you must be that he chose this particular moment. "I don't know if I'm ready to be loved. But I love you. With everything that I am." He says and kisses your cheek, closing his eyes as he cuddles into you.

Because Jason loves you and slowly learned to be loved back.

[stardust-swan]

The Kind of Girl I Want To Be

Buys herself pink peonies and roses

Wears scents like Parfums De Marly Delina and Oriana, Miss Dior, YSL Paris, Prada Candy, Mon Guerlain and Chanel Chance Eau Tendre (she sprays it in the morning, after showers, and before going to bed)

Bakes heart shaped sugar cookies and macarons

Spends rainy days sipping rose tea from floral china while reading beautifully bound classic novels

Has a bookshelf filled with first edition poetry books, gilded editions of fairytale books, volumes of the Little Books of Fashion series, leatherbound classics, and Harlequin romance novels

Drinks peppermint tea in the morning and camomile tea at night

Sleeps on pink silk sheets and has a satin kimono robe

Plays Brigitte Bardot, classical music, and soft jazz in the background

Takes ballates or yogalates classes

Plays the violin or cello

Watches Audrey Hepburn and Anna Karina films

Adds sweet almond oil and rose bath tea to her vanilla bubble bath

Has a seasonal pass to the ballet and regularly visits the theatre, old bookshops, botanical gardens, and art galleries

Keeps things like French Girl lip tints/Glossier lip balms/Too Faced lip glosses, a hand mirror, a comb, some bonbons, a book, a rollerball of perfume, hand cream, a piece of rose quartz, a scrunchie, a nail file, spray on SPF and bubblegum in her bag at all times

Is always up to date with Fashion Week

Writes in her diary daily in swirly writing using coloured gel pens, pressing flowers between the pages and spraying perfume samples on it

Lights Yankee Candle Fresh Cut Roses or Rainbow Cookie, keeps soap and lavender in her wardrobe, and has vanilla diffusers around the house

Lives in a cosy home filled with beautiful things, like paintings by local artists, lots of cushions and throws, soft lighting from salt lamps and fairy lights, potted herbs and succulents, vintage vases filled with floral arrangements, DIY macramé and embroidery projects, a bowl of different crystals, signature Barbies on a shelf, rattan furniture, fluffy towels in white, pink, baby blue, and lavender, pink Dove or rose Roger et Gallet soap and Jurlique rose hand cream on the bathroom sink, pictures of her loved ones in antique frames, floral patterns everywhere, antique mirrors, and beautiful porcelain teasets

Goes to French cafés to enjoy a vanilla oat latte with a millefeuille or almond croissant

Always wears diamond or pearl earrings (often paired with a charm bracelet or gold heart locket)

Enjoys rosé wine, champagne, and strawberry daiquiris at lunchtime occasionally

Snacks on strawberries, sugared almonds, dried fruit and nuts, and Turkish Delight

Applies powder, rosy blush, lipgloss, and puts ribbons in her hair at her vanity table, which is decorated with a ballerina music box, vintage perfume bottles, and trinkets shaped like swans, angels and shepherdesses

Has her morning and evening routines down pat: waking up to melodic music, opening the windows, making the bed, doing gentle yoga, simple skincare, getting dressed, applying makeup, and eating a simple but delicious breakfast in the morning, and having a warm shower, doing more decadent skincare, putting on comfy cotton or satin pyjamas, journalling, enjoying a calming cup of herbal tea, reading, looking out the window at the moon, and falling asleep to relaxing sounds like ocean waves, gentle rainfall, and white noise at night. Her life runs like clockwork.

Is gentle, sweet, romantic, and full of love to give

[rottenpumpkin13]

what would it be like if the firsts lived together?

They did live together. Once. Right after Angeal and Genesis made First Class, SOLDIER grew in numbers, and the living quarters were still under planning and construction. They shared a spacious three bed, three bathroom apartment later reserved for Thirds to share. Angeal still dubs it "the worst 14 months of his life"

• Genesis had his own cereal, but thought theft tasted better, so he used to steal Sephiroth's cereal and the two would have a physical altercation over rainbow loops.

• Angeal thought Genesis was a neat freak until he met Sephiroth, who made a color-coded spreadsheet to track the frequency of dusting different areas of the house. Sephiroth liked to passive-aggresively wipe down counters after someone had been in the kitchen, and took pictures of Angeal and Genesis as they were actively making messes to hold them accountable later. Apparently Sephiroth still has a scrapbook of photos to this day, which he labeled "Why I live alone."

• Angeal was the type to leave out a dirty mug Genesis used and never washed for days on end, refusing to let Sephiroth wash it, all to prove a point. Sephiroth would cave and wash the dirty mug when she wasn't looking. Genesis knew this, which is why he would continue to use the mug and leave it out. The same mug remained in the sink for all 14 months they lived together.

• Sephiroth is an insomniac and liked to fix himself meals at 3AM, which would give Genesis a green light to practice the fucking flute, also at 3AM. Angeal had never experienced true rage until he heard a half-assed flute version of O Fortuna while Sephiroth was actively beating a stake with a meat hammer.

• Angeal would refuse to cook for them as a protest if he found half-eaten food in the garbage.

• Angeal was also no saint, and his alarm used to be a loud guitar riff meant to get him motivated and out of bed in the morning. The first time Sephiroth was startled awake by loud rock music at 5AM, he thought it was Genesis. So he threw open Genesis' door and attacked him.

• Sephiroth had the tendency to leave all the lights on, even in rooms he wasn't in. This drove Genesis and Angeal insane, and they berated him so much for it that Sephiroth started to walk around the apartment with a jumbo flashlight. He would flash it directly in their faces when talking to them because he's petty.

• Angeal had a tendency to bring over any strange item or piece of furniture he found at yard sales or on the side of the road. Angeal couldn't understand how Sephiroth thought the giant, stained beanbag chair shaped like an eye he got at a yard sale for 3 gil was junk. He also couldn't comprehend why Genesis didn't want the antique vanity Angeal got for free at the flea market because the owner thought it was haunted.

• Everyone had different scent preferences and refused to compromise. This is why the apartment smelled like Banora White Apple candles, Ocean Mist, and Tropical Berry simultaneously. It smelled like ass.

• Sephiroth enjoys his peace, but couldn't meditate when Angeal was screaming at the baseball game on TV while Genesis was using a karaoke machine to recite Loveless. His Root Chakra is still damaged to this day.

• Sephiroth had to find out the hard way what a tie on a closed door meant, and that not all screams mean someone is in danger.

• Genesis had a phase where he would bring over random people from his nights out. The amount of breakfasts Sephiroth had with half-dressed women and men singlehandedly developed his conversational skills.

• Angeal used to have this mentality of "I'm the responsible one, which means I can take things without asking." He took Sephiroth's hair brush without asking once and forgot to put it back. Sephiroth retaliated by bending Angeal's favorite stainless steel pan. Genesis had to separate them, an exhilarating experience he never wants to go through again because the pan and the hairbrush were used as weapons.

• Genesis couldn't understand why Sephiroth and Angeal didn't want his "artistic french films" playing while they were in the room. Angeal's argument was "If I wanted to see balls while I'm cooking dinner, I would make this lasagna in the locker room at SOLDIER."

[curtis-corner]

STAND BY ME (Darry Curtis) PART 9

I realized I never linked Part 8 to the masterlist, it's up there now and linked here incase you need to catch up/refresh!

As always, thank you to everyone who has shared how much they are enjoying this story. I read every message about 50 times :)

Taglist : @lovelylegolas2123 @amnestyliketaz @spuffyfan394

Enjoy getting into Darry's head for this one!

PART 9

Darry POV

I watch her close the door to my bedroom to get dressed, a room I’ve only just started to consider mine at all, and I turn to my brothers.

“She’s gonna be staying here a bit, so one of you has got to clean that bathroom. And I mean bleach it good.” Soda and Pony make matching faces of disgust and Steve starts to snicker.

“Aw Darry, bleach makes me itch.” Pony whines.

“No it doesn’t, he just told mom that to get outta cleaning the toilet.” Soda rolls his eyes.

“I don’t care who does it, but it better be done when I get back. Whoever doesn’t do the bathroom is more than welcome to clean up Soda and I’s old room.”

“Is that where we’re putting her stuff?” Pony asks.

“She didn’t sleep there last night.” Soda grins and Steve wolf-whistles. I give an unimpressed look to both of them.  

“She’s okay, right?” Pony asks. It’s not lost on me how young he is, and how many people he’s lost already. He’s nervously biting the inside of his lip. I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder and he doesn’t shrug me off like he used to.

“She’s gonna be just fine. We’ll make sure of it.”

--

The house is freezing when we go in, and I work on covering up the busted window with cardboard and tape while she packs up some things in her room.

I told her to take anything she wouldn’t want to go missing – while the house was messy, it didn’t look like anything was stolen. But that may not be the case next time someone comes looking. 

I tape a trash bag behind the cardboard to stop as much air as I can and walk back towards her room. I’d never been in a girl’s room before. The walls were white but the sheets and blankets were covered in pink flowers and even through the cold air I could smell the perfume she always wore.

“Just about done,” she zips up her small suitcase and I walk over to wrap my arms around her, rubbing them up and down to warm her up.

“You okay? Being here?” It was hard to believe less than twelve hours ago she was running from a break-in. She shrugs and I pull her closer, kissing the top of her head. “You need me to carry some bigger things to the truck? We can take whatever you want.” She bites her lip and looks around, her eyes lingering on the piece of furniture that looked like a small desk with a mirror attached to it. I had seen something like that in a magazine once, I knew girls usually had it and it probably had some fancy name.

“No, just the suitcase and this box please.” I pick up both and we head out. I see her glance back at her bedroom and my mind was made up before we even went out the door. I put her things in the back of the truck, then turn to her.

“Here, you can start the engine and get warm.” I hand her the keys. “I’ll be right back.” She gives me a quizzing look but gets in the drivers side to start the car and I do a light jog up the path, not wanting to leave her too long.

When I walk out of the house holding the furniture and little stool that was in front of it, I could see her surprised expression through the passenger window.

“You packed my vanity.” She says when I get into the car, and I guess the piece of furniture has a name after all.

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because it looked like you wanted it.”

“I don’t need to bring it over to your house.” My girl could certainly be stubborn when she wanted to be. I drum my fingers on the wheel.

“I think you’re underestimating how long Soda spends in front of the bathroom mirror. You want a chance at getting ready for work, you’re going to need your own spot.”

She raises one eyebrow, a trick she picked up from Two Bit faster than the rest of us ever did. I can’t help but smile when she does that, and then she’s smiling too. She leans over to give me a too quick kiss.

“Thank you, Darry.” And I know she means for more than the vanity.

Someday I’ll figure out a way to tell her that she never needs to thank me. That it’s me who should be thanking her: for so long I felt like I was drowning and then she was there, the raft that could keep me above water. Every day that I’m with her, I can breathe a little easier.

It’s an easy drive to the general store, and when I pull up to the front, I see her looking down at her bandaged arm. I know she’s thinking about having to tell the story to Mr. Murphy and reliving it again.

“Do you want me to go in first? Talk to him?” I offer and she shakes her head.

“That’s sweet to offer, but I’ll be okay. I just don’t want Mr. Murphy worrying about me.”

“He cares about you, baby. Just like we all do.” The tips of her cheeks turn pink. God, my girl is so sweet.

“It’s nice, you know? I feel like I have this big list now of people I care about who care about me right back.” I lean my forehead down to meet hers.

“Am I at the top of that list?” I ask teasingly, but she leans her head back a little to look me in the eye and let me know she’s serious.

“Always.”

And I can’t help but kiss her after that.

When we finally break free and she looks into the rearview mirror to check her lipstick, I remember our conversation from the night before.

“You want to go to the hardware store after work? Look at paint colors for the kitchen?”

And then she gives me that smile, the big, full-on one that knocks me off my feet every time. I’ll let her paint the whole damn house if I can keep her looking this happy.

“I sure do.” She leans up for one last kiss, and then she’s out of the car and walking towards the store. Before she goes through the door she turns and gives me a little wave and I don’t fight the smile that’s taking over.

But as I drive the smile fades and I think about running into the living room last night to see her shivering, crying and barely able to stand. I think about dropping her off every night to a dark house while her father was out gambling away their food money. How her father got himself in trouble, and in doing so he put his daughter in harm’s way.

I think about what happens if he doesn’t come back. Or worse, what happens if he does.

I miss Dallas Winston for a whole lot of reasons, but I really miss him now. He would know what to do in this situation.

I take a left turn instead of a right turn, and I head to the person Dally would have gone to.

--

Tim Shepard is on his front porch when I pull up.

I’d known Tim a long time: growing up in similar neighborhoods, then finding ourselves in similar situations. But unlike mine, Tim’s parents left by choice.

It made him hard and bitter, and I judged him before I knew what it was like. Before I knew how hard it was to fight against those feelings taking over your whole being.

“Curtis.”

“Shepard.” He leans the box of cigarettes my way and I take one. It’s rare that I smoke, but I have a lot on my mind, and I need something to take the edge off.

“Been waiting for you to come around.”

“How so?”

“I know who your girl is. And I know who her daddy is.” I am both relieved I don’t have to explain the situation to him and pissed he’s acting so smug about knowing it.

“You know two men broke in her house last night?” Tim raises his eyebrows, mildly surprised.

“Her daddy owes half the bookies in town. It was a matter of time.”

“You know who he owes? Who would have sent these guys?” I ask and Tim takes a long drag before answering.

“I can find out. Maybe spread the word that’s she’s yours and off limits.” I narrow my eyes. Tim and I understand each other, but he doesn’t do favors for free. “My gang’s having a bit of trouble with the Carter boys from Louisville Heights. It doesn’t die down, we’ll set a rumble to settle it.”

“And you want me there.”

“I want your gang there, just like I brought mine to your fight with the west side.”

I don’t like it, but he’s got a point and I won’t argue it. Well, I won’t argue most of it.

“I’ll be there. And I’ll bring whoever wants to come. I ain’t making people fight, not after last time.” And I sure as hell wasn’t letting Ponyboy fight at all.

The silence is heavy and I can tell Tim doesn’t like it, but he gets it. That’s usually how our conversations go.

I put out my cigarette in the ashtray and get up to leave, but Tim starts speaking again.

“Some men can walk away from the table. Your girl’s dad ain’t one of them.” Tim stands so we are eye to eye. “It’s important she knows that.”

I nod and leave and as I drive back to my house, I replay his words in my head. I know I’ll have to tell her.

But I don’t have to tell her today.

--

I pull up to the store a few minutes before four o’clock, but I barely make it through the front door and say hi before Mr. Murphy is calling me over.

“Just a word with Darrel here,” he tells her and she shakes her head, like she knows what he’s playing at. I follow him out the back door and to the back alleyway. He takes out a pack of cigarettes, but this time I decline.

“She told me what happened. Her goddamn father can’t do right be her one day of his life.” He sounded angry and it was strangely refreshing to hear someone else as protective as I was. Mr. Murphy takes another long drag. “She says you’ve got a spare room at your house she can stay in for a few days.”

“Yes sir.” I answer and Mr. Murphy gives me a look. He might be old, but he ain’t dumb: he knows there’s no way she’s staying in a spare room.

“I offered her the apartment above the store, no one has lived in it for a bit but it’s not a bad place if you open up the windows for a day.” I school my expression into something less thunderous than I feel and try to stay calm for my reply.

“With all due respect sir, I didn’t like dropping her off at an empty home even before all this. I’d like it even less now.” I don’t break his stare and after a minute, he shakes his head, but he’s smiling.

“You know, I remember your dad when he was your age. He loved your mama something fierce.”

I remember. Plenty of kids in my neighborhood only had one parent around, and even the ones with two didn’t always have a happy home. But my parents were different. They filled our house with so much love that Soda once told me he can still feel it.

And my dad loved my mom. He was a pretty easy-going guy, but if something made my mom upset, he would do just about anything to fix it. He’d take the whole world on if he had to.

I get that now.

“I just want to keep her safe.” I tell Mr. Murphy and his eyes turn kinder, the same look I see him give my girl.

“Seems I got nothin’ to worry about then. You just let me know when the wedding is gonna be.” He puts out his cigarette on the pavement and opens the back door to go inside.

It takes a lot to make me flush with embarrassment, but that comment nearly did. I shake off thoughts of rings and weddings cakes and follow him.

“Y’all alright?” She asks and I give her a smile.

“Nothin’ you need to worry about.” I lean on the counter while she finishes stacking the receipts. The front door jingles and Sheila walks in looking like her usual moody self. They switch cashier spots and we are about to head out before Mr. Murphy calls out one more time.

“Darrel?”

“Yes sir?”

“Bobby Evans says you help him out with bookkeeping from time to time.” I nod. It shouldn’t surprise me that Mr. Murphy knows my boss: Tulsa may be a city, but it’s really just a big small town. “My eyes are getting’ older so what would you say about helping me out sometimes? I’ll pay you the same he does.”

I knew what this meant: I had earned his trust. Not just with the books, but with someone he cared about.

“I’d like that a whole lot, sir.” We nod at each other, an understanding passing between us. I put my arm around my girl and we walk out into the bright sunlight of a Saturday afternoon.

And when she looks up at me, smiling that special smile she does, I fleetingly think of rings and cakes.

NEXT: Living with our fav Curtis brothers

[gffa]

I've been watching a lot of this cleaning channel because it's great for motivation to go clean stuff, where it's not about ~*transforming*~ the space (which can be very fun to watch, too) but just about taking a hoarder's space and actually Going Through The Stuff And Cleaning Up. The channel is very soothing because the host is someone who actually has read up on what causes hoarding, he knows that you can't just take a shovel to that stuff (you will making the hoarding worse if you clean without the consent of the hoarder, but also there's always genuinely valuable stuff in there, you can't just shovel it out the door, you have to go through it), like Oh I Feel So Seen. But this video in particular hit really hard today because it's from a "clean" hoarder and ohhhh that's it, that's what I've been dealing with. It was never that there was a bug or rodent infestation, if ever there was so much as a single ant in the house, everything was pulled out to scrub things down and get every last one taken care of, the only real dirt was dust in the places nobody could reach. It was just. Stuff everywhere. In the video, there was a moment in the kitchen when he pulled out a little bin of old cell phones and I felt a moment of Kinship and, about two hours later, when I was back to cleaning out dad's hoard, you know what I found? Old cellphones. It just smacked me in the face all over again. It's also the commentary about how, in every hoarder house he goes to, he finds things like old medication or pill bottle (oh my god I have been able to finally throw away what must be over 50 of them, and so much old medication has also been thrown), paperwork mixed in with junk mail (I'm not kidding, if you piled up all the paperwork/junk mail mom and I had to go through, it would have been about five feet high), or hoarded food (literal hundreds of plastic grocery bags full of expired food I hauled out) and it just hits over and over again how much I'm resonating with everything there. Anyway, if you want to know what I'm working with, basically it's a lot like that video above, it's "clean" hoarding, but that's basically what it was like in every single room and I've been trying to go over and tackle at least some of it every day, while also helping to get the old carpet replaced, the walls painted, etc. And trying to choose furniture that's not too expensive but also doesn't look like a teenager's bedroom or like it was salvaged out of a Cleanup Week pile. And trying to figure out where to store the necessary house things, like a basic tool set and cleaning supplies. But, you guys, be proud of us, I got several baskets worth of small stuff storage put away (extra lotions, extra charging cords, etc., things you keep but don't need sitting out), we got the armchair back into the guest bedroom, I put together a hamper instead of just plopping a clothes basket on the closet floor for dirty clothes, I put all my bathroom decor together in a bin for when we get the new vanity (the current one is so old that it's basically rusted over underneath), put all the after Christmas decorations we bought this year away, put some groceries away, AND I STARTED MY SECOND LOAD OF LAUNDRY TODAY. It's small stuff but it's time-consuming and I need you all to be proud of me for keeping moving on All Of This.

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

TTD - And then They Were Roommates ™

Before Villain was their roommate, Hero never had any peculiar feeling about their apartment. They were grateful to have a roof over their head, but were not particularly picky about how it looked like under. It wasn’t like they had the kind of time to arrange the place. To be honest, with their working hours, they didn’t see why they would find energy left for this. As long as they had a bed and electricity, it was fine. The result was a reasonably clean room, but a rather bland place. The only thing that was really personal was the vanity in the bathroom, covered with hair products and beads of all colors. At Villain’s displeasure, Hero spent hours in front of it, because unlike some people whining from behind the door, they had their priorities well in order.

True, Hero had felt a bit insecure when Villain had entered for the first time, stopping in front of every furniture with such solemnity you’d swear they were staring at a masterpiece in a museum. Flustered, the not-so-proud owner had explained that they were not that rich, but Villain had seldom made any comment, and well, with their shadow covering them it wasn’t like their body language was readable. Maybe they were tired too, and after their place had just been destroyed by Supervillain it was understandable. They’d glistened towards the guest room and locked their door without a word.

The agency had called in the middle of that night for news. Hero, toying with their blanket, had assured their superior on the phone that yes, Supervillain had been destroyed for good, no they weren’t making it up, and oh by the way, Villain had reformed and changed their ways, hmmhmm, yep, definitively. On the other side of the line, that declaration was met by no little skepticism. After one hour of pleading, they’d at last convinced their interlocutor not to send a team to eliminate the threat. The next day, they were ordered to keep Villain under lock and key. Villain had stared when they’d shyly explained the situation to them, brandishing a padlock they didn’t really know how to use, and had only said:

“I could open this pathetic thing in my sleep.”

Given how gifted Villain was with building tools and machines, it was probably no idle boast. The good news, though, was that they’d accepted to stay in their room whenever they were left alone as long as Hero would give them an old game-boy left in a drawer for years to keep them occupied. As time passed, it became evident that Villain was an indoor creature who was delighted at the idea of not stepping outside ever again. In return, Hero had given them pretty much whatever they wanted, including scraps of metal and lots of tools. At first, they’d said nothing, but when parts of the room had began to be covered with sinister forms, they’d felt they had to put their foot down:

“You are not building a torture room in my place.”

“What else am I supposed to do, you oppressor ?”

“I’m the one paying the taxes.”

Villain had sulked for a moment after that, but then they’d suddenly asked:

“Aha, but what if my torture tools were also useful appliances?”

Hero had stared and said:

“No.”

“No as no or no as it can’t be?”

“Both.”

“You have little faith.”

Villain had immediately put themself to work. In an alarmingly short time, they’d built a tiny guillotine for the kitchen. It could cut even coconuts properly, in one strike. Hero couldn’t use it much, because it made them feel sorry for the poor vegetables (especially after seeing Villain do it, yelling “death to all of you, you feeble preys!” at a bunch a carrots), but they had to acknowledge it was a decent tool to slice a loaf of bread. Actually, Villain was good with the kitchen in general. Being disturbingly fond of cutting vegetables and fruits, it was no surprise that they’d fallen in love with the blender Hero had never used before:

“For what it is but a miniature death trap, where my innocent victims are trapped in a transparent prison and melted into oblivion by unforgiving blades?”

Hero had asked what kind of blade would be forgiving, and they’d got lightly tapped on the head with a cardboard tube for their trouble. But the outcome of all of this was a fridge always filled with bottles full of drinkable food that never got Hero’s stomach upset. Villain had even made a damn acupuncture chair which spikes looked deadly, but were in fact quite soothing. After that they’d stood up, and Hero just knew that they were puffing their chest behind their shadow:

“So, have I succeeded in my impossible task?”

And Hero could do nothing but answer:

“Yes. Completely. It’s genius.”

And it was. Really, the biggest beef they had was the time when Villain had stolen their two favorite magnets on the fridge. They’d stopped dead in front of the aro and ace pride flags that fixated the to-do lists of the day, declared that green, purple and black were traditional colors for villains and so they were “bound to have them”, had yoinked them and flied back to their room before Hero had time to react. And as much as they were for people exploring their own identity, how were they supposed to keep their groceries list in sight now?

But none of this was the weirdest thing. It was the fact that whenever Hero returned to their place with all these strange additions, it didn’t feel bad or crowded. It was the strange new and warm feeling that finally they were home, they were home, they were home.

(Though they still wanted their magnets back.)

*

Check the These Two Dorks Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with this Hero and Villain. This is how they met and now they’re roommates.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[honeyedmiller]

Fate, After All | Joel Miller —

Part Five (Finale)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (of course), no outbreak!Joel, Joel and reader are literally so in love it makes everyone SICK :’) , smut (fingering, unprotected piv [wrap it up y’all], f oral receiving, tongue fucking, spitting, literally just rough dirty sex [don’t look at me omg]), no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 9.8k (I'm so sorry omg)

series masterlist

-

Not long after you and Joel confessed your mutual feelings for one another, the older Miller brother had asked you to move in with them. Sarah couldn't have been more excited, because that meant instead of talking to you on the landline when you weren't around, she could just walk down the hall to her dad's bedroom or downstairs and you'd be there.

She never really spoke about it aloud, but she was thrilled to finally have a mother figure around in her life. She loved her dad so dearly, but there was just some things that she couldn't talk about with him. She was sure his 'papa bear' mode would kick in if she ever even mentioned boys or wanting to use tampons or anything of the sort. Not only that, but just having a woman around to guide her in life as well was something every young woman should have, and now, she had it for real.

Joel on the same hand was eager for you to start moving your stuff in. You sold a lot of your furniture pieces because you wouldn't be needing them anymore, and truthfully, you being sort of a minimalist made the move-in process easy for everyone. You always kept your space tidy and de-cluttered frequently. Joel's heart swelled at the fact that his double vanity in his bathroom and master bedroom was finally taken up halfway with someone he loved so much. He literally smiled at the sight of your toothbrush every morning, as a reminder that this was all real—you're here, you're his, and there's no one on this planet he'd rather be with than you. You were his dream woman. He'd thought he lost out forever after he chickened out and failed to ask you out in high school, you leaving for college and not keep in touch with him. Boy was he glad to find out he was terribly wrong.

-

It'd been a couple of years after your initial move-in, and you'd just gotten home from a long day of work. You closed the front door softly, slipping off your heels to the side of the entryway while hanging your coat on the coat rack. Hushed whispers were coming from the kitchen, as if you weren't supposed to hear the conversation that was happened.

"You think she'll like it?" Was all you caught before Sarah smacked her dad lightly on the arm as she heard your footsteps approaching, luckily not seeing the two of them and how quickly Joel had to slide the velvet box over to his daughter, to which she tossed in her backpack.

"Hey you two." You beam, taking your hair down from your claw clip as you approached them.

"Hey honey." Joel smiled, pulling you in for a hug and a kiss. You moved to Sarah as you kissed the top of her head as she greeted you, moving to the fridge after to get a bottle of water.

"What were you two talking about before I came in?" You ask, eyebrow raised quizzically.

Joel's face nearly turned beet red, but Sarah stepped in before he could come up with a lame excuse.

"We were just discussing if you'd like takeout for dinner, or pizza." She shrugged, and you narrowed your eyes for a split second. A headache was already brewing in your frontal, so you decided to let it go and nod.

"Either's fine. Don't really have the energy tonight to cook, truthfully. I have a headache I can already feel." You sheepishly smile, and Joel's lips formed into a small frown.

"Go lay down for a bit honey. We can wake you when dinner's here." Joel encouraged. You untwisted the cap to your water bottle, taking a gulp before recapping it and nodding.

"Alright." You nod, smiling softly as you move past them both to make your way upstairs.

"Alright, give me the thing back before you lose it." Joel whispers when he thinks you're out of earshot, but again, the headache you have is growing by the minute so you couldn't be bothered to even think twice about what he just said.

You plop yourself down on your side of the bed once you reach your shared bedroom, right after changing into a long sleeve and some sleep shorts. You snuggle under the brown comforter, drifting off into a much needed rest to alleviate the your headache. It felt like you'd only closed your eyes for five minutes before you heard Joel's rather heavy footsteps—loud enough even if he was trying to be quiet—approach the bedroom door.

He shuffled to where you laid, peaceful and silently begging him in your mind to let you rest just a little longer. "Baby, wake up. Food's here." Joel softly brushes loose strands of hair out of your face, cupping your cheek gently. Your eyes flutter open to meet his, and he has a sincere smile on his lips.

In a sense, Joel was grateful that you went to go lay down. He was disheartened that you were in discomfort, but glad he had enough time to elaborately plan out the night he was going to ask you to marry him. He'd already talked everything through with Sarah—you and her were going to have a 'girl's day' to get your nails done and have her help you pick out an outfit on Saturday, and then Sunday, if all went well and according to plan, he was going to take you to surprise you with three things before he popped the big question.

Sarah'd helped him pick out the ring about a month prior while you were at work, and they both came to an agreement that the beautiful teardrop ring with tiny diamonds surrounding the front of the band was the perfect ring for you. Classy, elegant, and beautiful.

You sat up from the bed slowly, breaking Joel from his thoughts. You stretched and yawned, the feeling of your headache significantly subsiding.

Joel stood up to his full height to offer you his hand, and when you took his, he brought yours up to his lips to kiss the back of it. You smiled sleepily and dragged yourself up, bones cracking in the process.

You both silently made your way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Sarah was starting to pile her plate with the yummy local Chinese takeout down the street.

“So, I was thinking,” Sarah starts, looking at you pointedly. “What do you think about a girl’s day Saturday? We haven’t had one in awhile.” She offers, and you realize it’d been a few months since you’ve had one with her.

“I’m in.” You nod, and she grins at your agreeance.

The three of you ate dinner with Sarah chatting for the most of it, but you never minded. You loved to hear her talk about her day or the funny things that happened at school. She was a junior in high school now, and you just couldn’t believe how fast time flew. She was sixteen already and on the varsity soccer team. She had really good grades, a good group of friends, and had a boyfriend (with a little protest from Joel, but you had to remind him of how you two were when you both were her age).

She was a really good kid with a good head on her shoulders, and as you’d told Joel multiple times he did a wonderful job raising her, he insisted on saying you helped to contribute. He told you that she saw you as a mother figure, and she couldn’t have been happier with who her dad had picked to start dating those few years ago.

It’s funny, because Joel did always think you were the most mesmerizing person, even back in high school. He always thought you were smart, sweet, funny, and just downright beautiful—and if someone told him he’d been planning on proposing to said person in just a few days? He would’ve never believed them. He always thought he’d pretty much just end up alone, which of course made him a little sad, but he’d finally accepted that truth. And then, you came into his life. Just when he was content with being alone, you showed up and bewitched the older Miller brother mind body and soul, and he fell head over heels fast.

A few hours after dinner, Sarah had gone to bed and you and Joel were enjoying some time to yourselves in the living room. You were laying down on the couch with your legs tossed over Joel’s lap, as both of you read in silence—you, Pride and Prejudice, and him, a potential new client and their contract they’d want to discuss with Joel sometime within the next week. Joel and Tommy’s contracting business really took off after a big investor saw their handiwork and what they could both do, and started giving them bigger projects to work on in Austin. Financially it was amazing for both him and Tommy, but sometimes Joel would be gone for nearly the whole day. You and Sarah both missed him dearly the times he was gone longer than usual, but you both understood that his bigger clients needed his full, undivided attention. He was working on hiring more people to take over some of his responsibilities so he could free up his calendar, because every time he was on the job, he’d open up his wallet to look at the picture of you and Sarah he’d taken one winter day when the three of you decided to go ice skating downtown. His heart would ache with the fact that he couldn’t just be with you two all the time, and he knew you both understood his disposition, but he still missed you both so much nonetheless.

Joel was running his fingertips softly over one of your shins when he cleared his throat, and you dog-eared the page you were on before closing your book to look at him.

“Would you ever want to have any kids?” Joel asks you, and you sit up on your elbows to look at him. His eyes were soft yet curious, and his hand movement on your shin halted so he could rest it on you.

“Sarah feels like my own kid too.” You explain, and he chuckles.

“I love that you feel that way, baby, but I meant have another one. A baby. With me.” His grip on your shin tightened in the slightest, gaze never wavering from yours.

“Oh,” You paused, thinking it over for a second. You pictured yourself having a kid or two when you were in your early twenties and figured you’d have them by now, but given your previous track record for dating before Joel, nothing ever worked out. Since Joel came into your life and introduced you to Sarah, having a kid of your own hadn’t ever really crossed your mind… until now. “Yeah, I would.” You answer, sitting up completely now and setting your book on the coffee table.

“You don’t sound so sure.” Joel smiles softly, but you can tell there’s a sort of sadness in his eyes.

“I just really hadn’t thought about it recently, until just now.” You move your legs off of Joel to maneuver yourself, taking the contract gently from his hand before setting it down on the coffee table next to your book. You swing a leg over his lap so you’re straddling him, and his hands instinctively rest on your hips. He starts to rub small circles into your skin, and you push your body flush against his so your face is mere inches away from him.

“Is that something you want, Mr. Miller?” The playfulness in your tone seems to shift his mood into a slightly happier one.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve been thinking about it and I really do miss having a little one running around.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, before pulling back to gaze at you once more.

“Do you think Sarah would be okay with it? That’s a big age gap. I know she’d be the best big sister, but you know.” You say, raking your hands through his soft curls.

“She’s been hinting that she wants a little sibling for some time now. Not sure she’s hinted to you, but to me, she certainly has.”

You laugh at that piece of information, because it’s something Sarah would definitely do.

“Alright then. I guess when the time comes, we’ll talk to her about it.” You nod, moving down to kiss him. He immediately responds to you by molding his lips to yours, hands moving up so they press against the small of your back.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Joel murmurs against your lips.

You smile softly, cupping the side of his face. “I love you too, handsome.”

-

Saturday had seemed to have come at a snail’s pace, but when it did, Sarah wasted no time in getting you both up and out of the house in record time. It was ten in the morning when you both got to the nail salon, and since it was rather early for the weekend, you and Sarah got taken in right away.

The kind nail technician asked what design you wanted for your nails, and just as you were about to pick a color, Sarah piped in.

“You should get your nails round with a French tip.” She suggested, and you contemplated. You’d never gotten French tip before, but it was cute and looked nice. You went along with her idea, and the nail tech got to work. After an hour and a half, you were both done and out of the chairs. You were about to pay when Sarah stopped you.

“Dad said this one was on him.” She smiled, pulling out a card that she used for a joint account between him and her.

“That’s very kind of him.” You say to no one in particular, putting your wallet back in your purse.

After she swiped the card, she looked back at you with a grin. “Let’s go shopping for a new outfit!”

Her ecstatic nature made you smile, loving that she didn’t think she was ‘too cool’ to hang out with people older than her. She had many friends, yes, but she also valued spending time with Joel, Tommy and you as much as she could.

After driving to the mall, she insisted you both go into a fairly new boutique with gorgeous clothes that were unfortunately on the pricier side.

“Sarah, honey, this place is a little out of my budget.” You confess sheepishly, because you didn’t like to tell her no. Joel told you it was okay to say no to her, but she genuinely never asked you for anything ridiculous or out of the ordinary.

“I know, but let’s just look around for a bit to see if we can find anything.” She smiles softly at you, and those green eyes of hers were so bright and hopeful that you couldn’t resist.

You’re such a sucker for her, Joel’s words rung in your head. You shake your head slightly, looking through a couple of racks before your eyes landed on the most beautiful dress—floor length champagne color that flowed beautifully. It had a slit where the right knee was, and it was fitted on top with spaghetti straps.

Sarah caught you staring at the dress and nodded in encouragement. “You should try it on.” She suggests, and you break your gaze away from the dress to look at her.

“Honey, this dress is over a hundred dollars. I don’t know…” You trailed off, never to be one to spend that much money on one piece of clothing.

“I just wanna see what it looks like!”

“Fine.” You knew you couldn’t argue with her because she was always firm on her stance.

You took the dress off the rack and went into the dressing room, trying on the delicate material. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t fit like a glove. The dress was perfect, like it was made for you. You couldn’t help yourself, so you fished your phone out of your purse to snap a picture (which was poor quality, of course, given the technology of flip phones), and sent it to Joel with nothing but a heart emoticon.

Joel rarely checked his phone while he was on the job, so you hadn’t anticipated a speedy reply. You tossed your phone back into your purse and stepped outside of the dressing room so Sarah could get a look. She gasped in awe, motioning for you to do a twirl.

“You look so beautiful. Wow.” The look in her eyes was telling you to get the dress. You suppose it could be worn for a fancier date night out with Joel, though you could literally be wearing a burlap sack and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person in the room.

“It does fit me good, huh?” You ask, gnawing at your lip. You sigh, giving in and deciding to get the dress. You change back into your regular clothes before bringing it to the front counter to check out. You were about to get your wallet out of your purse, but again, Sarah beat you to it and swiped her card instead.

“Sarah!” You gasp, looking down at her with furrowed eyebrows. She looked up at you sheepishly, shrugging.

“Dad said!” She held up her hands in defense, and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Please don’t be mad,” She started as you thanked the sales associate as they handed you a bag with the dress inside. “Dad told me he wanted to treat you.”

“I’m not mad, just… he shouldn’t be spending this kind of money on me.” You sigh, getting back to the car. You were definitely going to have a talk with Joel, because he loved to spoil you and Sarah both, but you felt bad when he spent a lot of money on you in general. You and Sarah both got lunch, which you made sure you paid for, before driving home. To your surprise, Joel’s truck was already in the driveway.

You both entered the house, only to find Joel in the kitchen once you both made your way through the living room.

“Hey dad.” Sarah greets him, giving him a hug.

“Hey babydoll. How was girl’s day?” He asks, looking between the two of you. The Millers both gave each other a certain look, as if they had a secret to hide, but you figured it was another insider between them so you brushed it off.

“It was great. Got our nails done and found a pretty dress for her,” She poked your arm, causing you to smile. “But I’m tired. I’m gonna head upstairs and take a nap.” She bid you both goodbye, before marching herself upstairs and closing her bedroom door.

“I have a bone to pick with you, Mr. Miller.” You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow at Joel, who’s looking at you with a smug smile.

“And what would that be?” He trapped you between the kitchen counter and his body, both arms flexing to cage you in on either side.

It was hard to concentrate when his tall, broad frame was just yearning to be touched in front of you. He had already taken a shower, so he smelled like fresh pine, cedar and mint.

“Why’d you spend so much money on me? Sarah tricked me twice and swiped her card before I could even get my wallet fully out of my purse.” You huffed, gaze never wavering from his.

“What, I can’t spoil my woman?” He asks, dipping his head to kiss you on your exposed collarbone.

“That was a lot of money, Joel. I love you and appreciate you wanting to spoil me, but–”

“No buts. I wanted to pamper you a little and make sure you had an outfit for our date tomorrow night.” The smug look he had on his face never faltered.

“We’re going on a date?”

“We’re going on a date.”

-

Sunday evening rolled around, and as promised, you and Joel went on said date. Joel took you to the nice Italian restaurant you two had rekindled at. You’d realized then that you hadn’t been there since that day, so you thought it was sweet he was bringing you back there. Although you were enjoying the food and the company you were with, you felt a bit overdressed. Joel even swapped out his usual plain t-shirt or flannel for a nice black button-up shirt with some slacks. You’d never seen him so dressed up in all the years you’ve known him.

He seemed to be really fidgety too, like he was nervous. His eyes kept averting every which way, and when you asked if he was okay, he’d just say “‘M fine, darlin’.”

After dinner, Joel took you to your favorite street market where they had the best crepes. He ordered you both one to share, and luckily, you were able to capture the moment he had whipped cream on the corner of his mouth with a huge smile, looking so handsome under the warmth of the string lights above. You’d brought your digital camera with you just in case you wanted to capture memories like that one in particular.

After dessert, you and Joel took a stroll down to a little gazebo overlooking the creek. This time, though, you noticed there was rose petals on the ground that led to the gazebo. This couldn’t be for you and Joel, could it?

“I think someone decided to have their romantic evening here.” You laugh, and Joel closes his eyes in bliss at the sound, but also in nervousness as it coursed through every part of his being. Joel’s hand was in his pant pocket fidgeting with the velvet box restlessly.

“Let’s go see.” Joel pulled you gently into the direction of the gazebo.

“Joel, I don’t think—” You were cut short when he pulled you up on the platform, engulfing you in such a loving and heartfelt kiss. You were weak in the knees when he pulled apart, and the look in his soft, loving brown eyes held so much emotion you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. If it was anything similar to what you felt for him, then, well, you’d definitely have a clue.

“My sweetheart,” Joel started, taking a small step back as he intertwined both of his hands with your own. “Out of all the years I’ve known you, from when we were just teenagers until now, I’ve gotten the absolute privilege of get to know what a wonderful person you are. You’re so kind, caring, loving, and god, so patient. I always thought I’d never get to have a love like we do, but then just when I’d about given up on love, you walked into my life. You’re the love of my life; my soulmate; the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I know bein’ with me hasn’t always been sunshine and rainbows, but you’ve loved me through and through nonetheless. I want to spend the rest of my waking days for the rest of our lives showing you and telling you what a beautiful soul you are and how much you mean to me.”

Tears were already in your eyes at his speech, and when he let go of one of your hands to dig out a velvet box from his pocket, you lost it. He got down on one knee, and with teary eyes and a hopeful smile, he asked you the big question.

“Will you marry me, sweetheart?” His voice trembled ever so slightly, and truthfully, you didn’t even look at the ring because you were nodding your head vigorously, tears flowing freely down your cheeks.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Joel.” You choked out, and he stood up again to slide the ring onto your finger, embracing you into a tight hug. You kissed him feverishly, raking your hands through his neatly done curls.

You sobbed against him, trembling from the adrenaline. He kissed the tears off of your cheeks and cupped your face with his hands.

“I love you so, so much darlin’.” He kissed the tip of your nose, and your hands moved to slink together around the back of his neck.

“I love you too.” You sniffled, pure bliss overtaking your features.

You stared into each other’s eyes for a few more seconds, not wanting anything to ruin the perfect moment. Right now, you two were the only ones that existed.

“Wait, let me take a picture.” You smiled softly at him, and he nodded in encouragement. You got your camera out of your purse, holding up your hand with your engagement ring. You sported a huge smile with teary eyes, and Joel kissed your temple as you snapped the photo. This was definitely a memory you both would never forget.

-

About a year later

The wedding was nearing in just twelve hours. Your parents had kindly offered their couple-acred backyard for the ceremony and reception which was perfect, because a small intimate wedding is exactly what you and Joel wanted.

“Can you believe in less than a day I’ll be able to call you Mrs. Miller?” Joel murmured into your shoulder, kissing your soft skin a couple of times before moving his gaze to you.

“It seems so surreal,” You caress his face, shifting your weight on top of him. “You’ll be my husband.” Your heart rate picked up at the thought, butterflies soaring through your stomach.

“I don’t wanna say goodbye for the night.” Joel fake pouts, embracing you even tighter. You’d been lazing with him in bed all day, enjoying each other’s company before you both had to get ready for your bachelor and bachelorette parties. Joel wanted nothing more than to just have a few beers with his brother and closest friends (which funnily enough included your father and brother) at the house, while your mom and sister were throwing you something cute and intimate at your parent’s house. Sarah was coming with, and although Joel was a little apprehensive, he figured he needed to loosen the reigns a bit. She was turning eighteen soon and heading off to college, so he figured if she was going to be around any ‘adult’ things, he’d rather it be with you.

“I don’t either, honey. But you’ll have fun tonight. Hopefully my dad doesn’t give you too much of a hard time.” You sweep the curls off of his forehead, and he grins at you.

“C’mon baby, you know your dad loves me… now.” He teases you incredulously, earning an eye roll from you.

“Yeah yeah, Miller. You and that damn Southern charm, hm?”

“Got you to where you are with me now, didn’t it sugar?” He rolls you both over, grinning boyishly down at you before moving to leave a trail of soft kisses down the pulse point on your neck.

You sigh in pleasure before gently grabbing his face and holding it before yours, “That’s right.” He leaned down to you to capture your lips with his, pleasuring you one last time before he can call you “wife.”

-

Today was the big day, and fuck were you nervous. Not nervous in the sense that you were getting cold feet, but it was moreso having multiple people’s eyes on you watching you walk up an aisle and marry the literal love of your life. Little anxieties also crept up as well, like tripping while walking down the aisle or not being able to say your vows correctly.

You were surrounded by your bridesmaids and your mom, as they were putting the finishing touches on you. You felt like a literal princess—you had the dress of your dreams, all of your family and friends around you on yours and Joel’s day, and the man of your dreams waiting for you at the end of the aisle.

“You look beautiful, honey.” Your mom said, holding you at arm’s length with tears in her eyes.

“Oh, mom.” You chuckle, bringing her in for a hug.

“I love you baby. I can’t believe you’re getting married today.”

“I can’t believe it either. It’s finally happening.” Tears start to form in your waterline, and Sarah fans your face.

“None of that! Can’t ruin your makeup.” She exasperates, making everyone laugh, though she had tears in her eyes herself.

“You ready, babydoll?” Your dad knocks on the door, pausing to take you in. A proud and sad smile forms on his lips. “My little girl. Can’t believe you’re gettin’ married today.” He sighs, and you move to give him a hug.

“You and mom are two peas in a pod.” You offer him a soft smile as your bridesmaids line up, moving downstairs to meet the groomsmen.

“Let’s get you married, babydoll.” He offers you his arm, which you take before you hear the music start to play—a soft, sweet melody to introduce the groomsmen and bridal party. Your dad led you down the stairs before Sarah and Tommy could walk down the aisle, and you took a deep breath. This was it.

The melody you chose for when you walked down the aisle started to play, and your dad led you to the beginning of the soft white runner. Your eyes immediately locked on Joel’s, who was already teary eyed with the widest smile on his face.

It’s like your feet were floating off the ground as you made your way to him. His tall and broad stature was clad in a crisp tux, hair neatly combed to the side, sporting an unwavering smile on his face. You kissed your dad on the cheek as he presented you to Joel, who took your arm carefully and led you to the very end of the aisle before the officiant.

Joel kissed you on the cheek, lips lingering by your ear for a second. “You look absolutely breathtakin’, my love.” He kisses your cheek one more time before standing straight up, looking down at you with nothing but love and pure adoration. Those big brown eyes that held a galaxy of emotions in them have captivated you for eternity. You smile up at him, tears forming in your eyes again.

“You all may be seated.” The officiant says, and you and Joel join hands as listen to his ‘we’re gathered here today’ speech. Truthfully, almost everything in the world was drowned out to you in this moment. It was just you and Joel.

“I believe the couple has agreed to exchange vows.” The officiant said, turning to Joel who curtly nods before clearing his throat. He gave your hands a small squeeze before smiling down at you.

“Sweetheart,” He starts, a slight nervous edge to his voice. “When we were just teenagers, all I could think about was how pretty you are every time I was around you. You always lit up a room without even trying. Always had me at a loss for words, which is why I never spoke much around you to begin with,” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Just like you lit up a room when we were measly teens, you did the same thing to my life once you walked right back in it all those years later. Though I never had the courage to ask you on a date in high school, I’d say things worked out pretty well considerin’ the fact.” The audience before you both laughed, and a happy tear slipped from your eyes.

“You’ve been such a light to not only me, but to Sarah and Tommy as well. Thank you for loving my girl like she’s your own. Thank you for teaching me such patience, making an honest man out of me, and provin’ me wrong when I thought I’d be alone for the rest of my life. You’ve changed my life for the better, have bewitched me body and soul, and there’s no one else I’d rather be standin’ up here with right now. It’s you, darlin’; it’s always been you. I vow to love you for eternity in this crazy thing called life, until my last dyin’ breath. Through thick and thin, trial and error. I love you, sweetheart.”

You wanted to sob like a baby at his words, but kept your composure as you sniffled and took a deep breath. The officiant turned to you, signaling it was your turn.

“If anyone told me four years ago that I’d be standing at this altar right now with the love of my life, I would’ve laughed right in their faces. I was so content with being independent and ready to give up on dating, until you showed up at that restaurant in all your glory. From that point on, you’ve turned my life around in the best way possible. You had me hooked from the start. You’ve been nothing but kind, supportive, nurturing, and most importantly, you showed me how to truly feel loved. I thought I knew what true love was before, until you proved me so wrong. I’ll spend the rest of my waking days thanking you forevermore. I was half the person before you came back into my life, and now I feel like you’ve made me whole again. You’re my person, Joel. My soulmate. I’m so grateful that that one blind date ended up not showing up, ultimately working out in my favor after all. Thanks Ma,” You glance at your mom, and everyone chuckles. “I love you, Joel Miller. Today, tomorrow, and for the rest of eternity.”

The glint in his eyes was nothing short of pure love, and you were certain they reflected the look in your own.

“Joel, repeat after me,” The officiant starts. “I, Joel Miller, take this woman to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

Joel repeats his exact words, gaze never wavering from yours.

“I promise to love you for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to have and to hold for as long as we both shall live.”

He repeats the words once again.

The officiant says your name, and tells you to repeat after him.

“I take Joel Miller to be my lawfully wedded husband. I promise to love you for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to have and to hold for as long as we both shall live.”

Joel pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your waist. The ring bearer presents the rings, and you slide Joel’s ring onto his finger. He replicates your actions as he slides your ring onto your ring finger, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“By the power vested in me and the state of Texas, I now pronounce you as husband and wife. Mr. Miller, you may kiss your bride.”

Finally.

Joel wastes no time as he dips you down softly, kissing you so gently yet passionately. You had your hands wrapped around the back of his shoulders, clinging onto him as he continued to kiss you. The guests cheered for you both, and he pulled away to murmur “I love you, Mrs. Miller” against your lips. Heat flooded your body at your new name.

Mrs. Miller.

Mrs. Miller.

“I love you too, Mr. Miller.” You reply breathlessly, a tear slipping down your cheek. Joel was quick to wipe it away as he stood you upright again, pecking your lips softly.

“Why are you cryin’, baby?”

“I’m just so happy. I love you. I love you so much.” You cup his face, kissing him again. You nearly forgot about the people that were watching you both in this intimate moment, so you shuffled back a little until he grasped your hand and you both made your way down the aisle.

You stepped back into your parent’s house with Joel, both of you laughing breathlessly. You take a second to stop and look into his eyes, enjoying your first moment alone as husband and wife.

“I’m the luckiest woman in the world to be able to call you my husband.” You murmur, running your hands up his biceps.

“I think you got it twisted, sweetheart. I’m the lucky one. I’ll remind you of that every single day until it’s my last.”

-

The next day, you and Joel hopped on a flight to Hawaii. As a wedding present, your parents gifted you an all-inclusive trip to a beautiful resort. The only thing your mom said when you asked her how you could repay her was ‘give me some grand babies!’

So that’s why Joel carried you over the threshold to your resort room just mere minutes ago. You made your way to the balcony which overlooked the resort, and the Pacific Ocean. After Joel got the bags from the bell hop, he caged your body between the balcony and his own.

“It’s so beautiful.” You whisper, nodding your head out to the ocean. The bright sun was glistening down on the ocean, making it sparkle.

“Not as beautiful as you, darlin’.”

You huff a laugh at Joel’s words. “Ever the sweet talker, Mr. Miller.”

“Only for you, Mrs. Miller.”

You turn around so you’re facing Joel, a beaming smile on your face.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that name.” You reach up and run your fingers through Joel’s soft hair, hands knitting together at the base of his head.

“Good, ‘cus I’ll never get tired of saying it,” He pulls you in for a soft kiss, cradling your face gently. “Now c’mon baby. Let’s get ready for dinner.” He ushers you back inside, and you rummage through your luggage that you brought for a pretty, bright colored dress to wear to dinner.

You spent a bit of time doing your hair and makeup, wanting to make sure you looked good. You wanted to make yourself irresistible to Joel, because you’ve been secretly pining to have your hands all over each other. You both held out last night and didn’t have sex, mainly because you both were dead tired.

Joel had the same thing in mind when he got dressed for this dinner in some khaki pants and a white linen shirt, leaving the first few buttons undone. He was planning on having some mind-blowing sex with you, and he was getting restless just thinking about it. He had to keep himself in check though and remind himself that you both also came here to enjoy the romantic side of being newlyweds. All those thoughts went straight out of the window and drowned in the Pacific when you stepped out of the bathroom.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away—you were simply the most breathtaking woman. The dress you’d put on hugged your curves, and with slits that exposed most of your legs, it made Joel even weaker. He wanted to drop to his knees now and worship the ground you walked on. Your makeup enhanced your features more than it usually would, but it looked stunning. You had a certain glow to yourself that Joel couldn’t get enough of.

You felt the same way about him, too. You stopped in your tracks when your eyes landed on the man you loved, khaki pants fitting him perfectly with the white linen shirt that purposefully had a few buttons undone. The white cloth contrasted beautifully against his smooth, tan skin. The shirt clung to his biceps in the right places, easily showcasing the muscle that he had. He was wearing nice brown boots too, which added an inch or so to his height. You could feel yourself nearly drooling, panties dampening the longer your stared at him. He looked delicious. You almost wanted to cancel dinner and just jump his bones right then and there.

“You look…” He trailed off, moving to stand in front of you.

“Yeah, you too.” You said breathlessly, and you both chuckle.

“Let’s get outta here. Dinner starts soon.” Joel takes your hand after double checking he has the room key card, and you both make your way downstairs.

Dinner ended up being really delicious with a beautiful show, and to your surprise, Joel asked you to dance with him after. Joel wasn’t much of a dancer, and this wasn’t slow dancing. This was more like being in a club, so he had your body pressed up against his and your back met his front. His strong hands held your hips firmly as you swayed them to the beat of the song, and Joel could feel himself getting harder by the minute.

Truthfully, you were grinding yourself on him to tease him, but he knew exactly what game you were playing at so he did the same to you. You nearly moaned as he pulled you into him, the feeling of his hardness evident through his pants. Usually, you’d both be stubborn to see who would break first, but you couldn’t wait anymore. You spun around in his arms, eyes filled with lust and body buzzing with sexual tension.

“Joel,” The tone in your voice was surprisingly not as needy as you expected it to be. He looked down at you, eyes nearly black as he studied your features. “Let’s go upstairs.”

He didn’t need another word of confirmation as he clasped your hand and practically dragged you up to your room. You had to nearly jog as his long strides to the room didn’t let up. He fumbled with the key card, opening the door to the room swiftly before you both stumbled inside. He wasted no time as he tossed the key card and his wallet onto a table near the front door, grabbing your face and smashing his lips to yours. He pushed you up against the door, moaning into your mouth. Your hands found purchase in his soft curls, tugging teasingly.

He moved his hands to the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he caught you, bringing you over to the bed. You traced his neck with hot, wet, needy kisses before he set you down. He released you, and looked down at you as he towered over you. The look in his eyes was very telling that you two weren’t going to get very much sleep tonight.

Your chest was heaving up and down, body nearly trembling with need as Joel loomed over you, taking you in. You reached out for him, wanting to feel his body on top of yours. He happily obliged as he slotted himself between your legs, caressing your cheek before kissing you again. Your hands trailed down the front of his chest, nails slightly scraping his hot skin. You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt before discarding it onto the floor. You ran your needy hands all over him until they made their way down to his belt buckle.

Joel chuckled at your eagerness before pushing your hands away. You protested with a small whine before he nipped at your neck, just below your ear. “Let me take care of you first, darlin’.”

Joel slid the dress slowly up and over your head, making sure to trail his hands over all of your curves as he did so. He moaned at the sight of the pretty white lace set you had on for him.

“All for me baby?” He asks, dipping his head to kiss the soft flesh of your breasts right above the bra you were wearing.

“Yes.” You’re breathless. It would be embarrassing to you in any other instance, but fuck’s sake, you needed your husband desperately.

Joel’s eyes trail down your torso until they settle on the thin white lace underwear that covered you. His hooded eyes looked back up to yours as he rubbed circles into your thighs.

“I promised myself I’d say my vows twice. Once at the altar, and once with just my tongue buried in your pretty pussy. Word. For. Word."

You gasped at Joel's bluntness, feeling your arousal pooling quicker into the only thing that separated you from his sweet tongue. You stared at him, doe-eyed and wanting, just waiting for him to take the leap. Maybe you should make the first move. Your arms could move quicker than your brain could process your own actions, and you started to reach out for him.

"Mm mm, baby." Joel stops you, grabbing both of your wrists in one of his hands, holding them above your head.

"Fuck." You whine softly, hips involuntarily bucking up into nothing.

He wickedly grins at you as he moves down to kiss you, easily moving his free hand to cup your mound before pressing his thumb to your extremely sensitive clit. You inhale sharply at the feeling, instinctively closing your eyes.

"Look at me, baby. Wanna see those pretty eyes on me when I make you feel good." Joel's voice is soft and loving, but has a stern edge to it. Your eyes peel open to look at him as he moves the thin lace of your panties to the side. He looks down, seeing you already covered in your slick. He groans at the sight and takes his middle finger, swiping up and between your folds. He moves his slick-covered finger to his mouth, eagerly tasting you. He hums in pleasure, and you can see clear as day that he's rock solid in his khakis.

He releases your wrists from his hand, but you don't dare to move. He skates his hands down your body gently, kissing your soft flesh along the way before grabbing either side of your panties. He gently taps your hips, so you lift them up for him as he slides the white lace down your legs. He discards them somewhere on the floor behind him, his focus solely on you.

He maneuvers his face between your legs, biting some spots on your inner thighs softly before kissing the spot after. He continued to move at a slow, torturous pace, making his way up to your aching pussy.

"My beautiful wife. I love you." He says, and you run your fingers through his hair as you look down at him.

"I love you t-oh," You start, but were cut off by Joel poking his tongue out to circle your clit, dragging it down to your entrance, then back up again. "Fuck!" You gasp, gripping his hair slightly. He moaned into you as he got to work, and god, he wasn't fucking kidding when he said he'd say his vows twice. His tongue moved slowly, carefully finding a rhythm that drove you insane.

You started to grind your hips upward, writhing beneath him. He hummed into you, moving a hand to press down on your abdomen to keep you from moving.

Joel shifted himself in the slightest to bring his ring and middle finger up, slowly entering you as his skillful tongue never broke contact. A broken cry left your mouth, eyebrows threaded together and breathing labored. His tongue flicked your clit continuously as his fingers languidly pumped in and out of you, reaching that sweet spot every single time. If he kept this up, you knew you wouldn't last long.

You felt the crescendo of your orgasm building up rather quickly, heat in your lower abdomen tight with anticipation. Both of your hands flew into Joel’s hair when the his hand on your abdomen pressed down, applying more pressure. He truly went to work on you and ate you like a starved man, not letting up once. He wanted you to come all over the lower half of his face, wanted to feel your legs shake as you cried out his name for mercy.

And oh, what Joel wanted, he got.

Your orgasm rushed over you, internal flames licking you from your head to your toes. Joel lapped you up, fingers slowing down until they came to a halt. He pulled them out of you slowly, but his tongue was unforgiving as he kept slurping and licking at your sensitive heat. Your body jerked in overstimulation, trying to wriggle away from him, but he clamped his hands down firmly on your hips.

“Jesus Christ, Joel– f-fuuuuck.” You whined loudly, tears springing to your eyes. Just as quickly as your first orgasm came, a second one was already building up. Joel felt it with the way your body was tensing, and to add to the pleasure this time, he moved his tongue down to dip inside of you, moving at a deliciously torturous pace. He moaned against you, feeling you flutter around his tongue. He brought a thumb over one of your thighs, rubbing tight circles over your clit.

If you thought you were seeing the stars above before, you were seeing the whole fucking galaxy this time around.

“C’mon sweetheart, give it t’me. Let me see my beautiful wife cum on my face again.” His dirty words came and went quickly as he got right back to tongue fucking you, your release right on the edge.

You moaned so loudly as your second orgasm coiled tightly and snapped like a cable right through you, your whole body shaking with pleasure as Joel’s name rolled off your tongue like a prayer on Sundays. Joel cleaned you up once more, kissing your oversensitive pussy before dragging himself upwards. Pure lust clouded his eyes and his overall expression. His pupils were blown, eyes seemingly’ve gotten darker.

He moves a hand up to tug your chin down. “Open your mouth.” His demanding tone sent tingles down your spine, only adding fuel to the fire. You obey him immediately, and he spits directly into your mouth.

“Swallow.” Was all he said, and you complied. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head with how dominating he was being right now. You tasted yourself as you swallowed what he’d given you, eyes glossy as you awaited his next move. He stood up from the bed briefly, only to discard his shoes, pants, and boxers.

His erection sprung free and hit his torso, precum smearing as his tip was leaking and begging to be touched.

“My handsome husband.” You praised, only mirroring his words of affection to you earlier. He offered you a soft smile, climbing over you again. He rested his elbows on either side of you, face hovering mere inches above yours.

“Tell me now, baby. Do you want to make sweet love? Or do you want to be fucked roughly? You choose.” You laugh softly that he’s giving you an option, but there was all the time in the world for sweet love making on this trip. You wanted to be fucked senseless and take advantage of this domineering side of Joel.

“The latter, baby. Into oblivion.” You flash him a wicked smile, and that’s all you need for him to get off of you and reposition you so you both were facing the mirror that hung on the wall.

“Want you to see yourself getting fucked, sweetheart.” His voice is dangerously low. He climbs onto the bed as you arch your back, giving Joel a perfect view of your plump ass. He leaned down to kiss you on one cheek, before his hand cracked down on the other, giving it a fairly harsh slap. You gasped, eyes wide and mouth agape as you stared at his hungry expression in the mirror. The sting of the slap only added to your arousal, making your toes curl in the slightest.

“You ready, darlin’?” He asks, rubbing your ass tenderly. You nod in the mirror, but he shakes his head.

“Words, honey. Lemme hear you.” He presses, and you swallow thickly.

“I’m ready Joel. Please, fuck me.” Your begging alone nearly made him come undone, but he sucked in a breath as he positioned himself with your slick entrance.

He grabbed your hips, sliding into you with ease, courtesy of your arousal. You both moaned loudly, being filled up from this position always hitting deeper than usual. Joel’s cock felt heavy inside you as he gave you a minute to adjust to him. After all these years together, it still took a little time to adjust to his size. In doing so, this was the first time you both didn’t use any form of protection, so you could feel every single ridge and vein on his swollen member.

Joel had to concentrate on not cumming right there as he was buried in your tight warmth. The feeling of no protection was heavenly. You started to move your hips forward, giving him a silent signal he was good to go.

Joel moved almost all the way out of you, before snapping his hips forward to fill you completely again. You cried out at the pleasure as he set an unrelenting pace, fucking you senseless into the mattress.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty getting fucked dumb on my cock like this, sweetheart.” Joel grits, voice strained with pleasure.

“Feels—” You gasp for air, choking your words out. “Feels s’good. Y’feel so good, Joel. So good.” You praise him, fists clenching the fabric of the white comforter beneath you.

“Eyes up here, honey.” He moved a hand away from your hip to wrap around the front of your throat, pulling you up while applying the tiniest bit of pressure. Your eyes met his in the mirror, and you’d truly never seen such a pornographic sight in reality. You both looked so fucked out, so ravenous, so hungry and desperate for each other as his hips collided with your ass at an unrelenting, brutal pace.

Joel had an idea to add more pleasure to the mix, but it was borderline teetering a limit for you. You told Joel awhile ago that you’d try anything (well, almost anything) once, and if you didn’t like it, you’d let him know. He knew what he was about to do was truly obscene and filthy, but it was worth a shot. He moved his hand up your jaw and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging at it. His thumb made its way into your mouth and you eagerly sucked on it, giving him the lubrication he was seeking. After a minute, he let his thumb out of your mouth with a small pop.

He looked into your eyes through the mirror, and then looked down, where your other hole was completely exposed to him. He was hesitant for a moment, but bit the bullet and spit right onto it. Your eyes widened and you gasped, wondering what the hell he was going to do… but then it clicked. He moved his hand down to your ass, resting it tenderly on your cheek as his thumb swiped over his spit there.

“Can I? If it feels like too much you can tell me to stop.” He said, thumb hovering right over the spot you both became so curious about. You trusted Joel and knew he’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you.

What the hell, you thought. Worst thing that could happen is you tell him to stop. You nodded slowly, and heat rose to your cheeks as he kept bucking his hips into you. His face displayed pure concentration, eyebrows threaded together as he slowly pushed his thumb into you. It felt really odd at first, but that bit of pressure alongside the weight of his cock pounding into you was pure fucking bliss. Your pussy clenched down on him, and you both moaned in unison once more.

After Joel gained his full concentration back, he used his other free hand to wrap around your throat once more. You couldn’t believe how much Joel was holding back before you two got married, because fuck, this was truly some of the most mind blowing sex you’ve ever had.

The only sounds heard in the room was his hips slapping into your ass repeatedly, the wet squelching noise of you taking him so well, and your heavy breathing mixed with a couple of scattered moans. Your head was completely empty from every thought you’d ever had, except for Joel. Your mind was just Joel Joel Joel.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good around me. You were made for this cock,” Joel groans. “I’m gettin’ close.”

He moved his hand from your throat down to your clit, rubbing tight circles again. You cry out at the sensation, one of your hands moving to grip Joel’s forearm. You dug your nails into him unintentionally, causing him to hiss. He truthfully didn’t mind the slight pain that it brought though.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna cum.” You choke out, and he moans in response.

“Me too, baby. Y’gonna cum with me?” He rasps, but before you could even answer, you were clenching down on him as your orgasm shot through you once more.

“Fuck, sweetheart, where do you want me?” He asks, his own release just seconds away. He removed his thumb from you to steady himself against you with his hands, his face contorting into absolute pleasure.

“In me, please, baby– fuck.” Bliss takes over the course of your whole being as you cry out his name. A string of curses comes out of his own mouth, mixed with your own name, as he painted your insides with his seed. Your eyes were trained on him the whole time, so turned on by your husband blissed out because of you, that it elongated your orgasm. Your legs were shaky and done for as he stopped moving completely, his tan chest rising and falling rapidly to catch his breath. He wrapped his arms around your torso as he slowly pulled out, making you groan at the loss of fullness.

He brought you down on the mattress with him, tucking your head gently beneath his chin. You both spent a few minutes trying to catch your breaths, enjoying the peacefulness of being wrapped into each others arms.

“You did so good for me. I love you, baby girl.” Joel kisses the crown of your head, thumb stroking a spot on your arm softly.

“That was incredible, my love. Didn’t know you were holding back on me.” You chuckle as you kiss his chest, nails scratching his beard.

He huffs a laugh, clasping his hand around your wrist gently. He kissed the palm of your hand, resting it over his heart when he was done.

“I’m so fuckin’ happy, darlin’. So happy I get to call you my wife, and so happy I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you so, so much.”

You tear up at his kind words, pulling his face down for a sweet kiss.

“I love you too, my sweet husband. Forever and always.”

You’ve thought it and said it a million times before, and you’ll think it and say it a million times again—the universe really had a funny way of aligning things in life.

It really was fate, after all.

[dallasgallant]

Time period posts: Room types

Now most of this post and the more “modern”home is definitely be more suited for Soc or middle class charecters than it will be the Gang or greasers, as it comes down to affordability. This post will cover the modern (1960s) home and some terminology around it, but also homes in general then. Details across all kinds and poor homes/more greaser aligned. Post was inspired by just - how I despise open floor plans but like older homes so I’ll try to keep that rant out of this lol.

Stories-

First thing to cover is the style of houses at all! Two-story homes didn’t become mainly popular until the 1970s, now they did exist- especially older homes in cities or towns that are 1880s-1900s ish. Or split level! The one story bungalow, ranch… uh… other style, were more common place.

A soc might have a larger two story home, maybe even a basement not just a storm/root cellar. (‘Hidey hole’ according to Oklahomans) Where as greasers would live in older one story homes (for instance the Curtis house was built in the 1920s, likely those on their street are similar)

Closet space-

A reason why in older films and stories especially you’ll see a lot of dressers and wardrobes is because very old houses weren’t traditionally built with closets! Then when homes had them, they’d typically be small so most clothing would be in dressers and trunks. Same reason for these gorgeous vanities is before plumbing there weren’t bathrooms to have mirrors and counter space so you’d have one in the bedroom (carried over well after bathrooms and indoor plumbing became the norm as they’re nice to have)

Linen closets also became a standard, which are typically put in the hall for bedsheets, blankets, towels etc. The linens! (Sometimes napkins and table cloths but those are usually toward the kitchen.

Newer homes 40s on would have closets as the standard, still typically small though. Another reason it’s common to see old furniture and wallpaper (even in middle class homes) is that changing things with trends or modernity was not done half as often as it is now! They didn’t gut the house and furniture even if a magazine told them so— though one will add touches where they can. Think in 50s movies where teen rooms have old floral wallpaper and furniture but there’s posters and pendants plastered about.

Greaser -> may have a closet but heavily dependent/mainly uses a dresser. Sunday clothes are in the closet or its storage

Soc-> has and uses both. Maybe even a slide/double door closet!

Quick aside-

Common for even newer homes to have a single bathroom!! But master baths and additional/half were becoming more of a norm. (Curtis house has one bathroom)

Another aside-

The “big light” wasn’t as common, which is another reason that some older photos look so dark and weird as that there wrent overhead lights, mainly lamps and other features. Especially if a home is older. Now overhead lights did exist, and were standard by this point if not in an older older home. Spotlights and fan lights, then sometimes fluorescent bars in a kitchen. You could sort of tell when lights were installed in an older home.

AC! AC! It had to be added to a LOT of homes wasn’t typically standard so there was a lot of window units and not cenerailized units- a soc would have like full central air and it was a huge deal.

Walls and room size-

Most houses now days are built with a ‘open floor plan’ which essentially means your kitchen, living room, dining room and practically first floor are the same room (except the toilet). Older houses, even houses built just 30 years ago had a lot more walls in place, keeping rooms smaller, cozy and much less of an eco. Some rooms only having one in/out others may have an open archway and then a door on the other side. Enclosed kitchens! Separate dining room and living room!

Formal v informal-

This will be the introduction to my next few points as it’s the beginning of it. I don’t know the exact term but “formal living room” is a solid name. In essence, it’s a room with a nice couch, chairs and art that’s close to or the entrance to one’s house. It’s where you’d host a visit or guests. It’s off the dying idea of “sitting rooms” and “parlors” from the 1800s-1900s. As time went on visits and “calls” became less formal even amongst socials.

Just as a separate “formal” dining room exists, where dinner parties, holidays and special occasion meals are served. It’s off the kitchen and not the same set of tables/chairs that’s in it. Sometimes if a family has a dining room at all they’d use it for supper/the evening meal. However this formality was also beginning to die out by the late 60s.

These formal rooms are more of a soc or upper middle class thing.

Finishing the basement-

Starting in the late 1940s but taking a real rise in the 50s and 60s, post ww2 where luxury and convenience were on the rise, people were getting and able to afford their own homes, cars etc and had time for projects. It was a real flurry to finish basements and often times that included the rumpus room, a space to make ruckus!

Converting basement space goes as far back as the 30s and while names varied (recreation room, game room etc) the idea remained the same as a casual spot for family hang outs. Major for adult parties or teen parties as well, it didn’t have the same pressures as the formal visiting spaces upstairs and was more a place to unwind. More often than not they’d have a bar or a theme to them.

Sometimes, if the TV wasn’t upstairs in the living room it’d be down here or in another room ; the den.

Similar concept to a rumpus room but it’s not confined to the basement, it’s anywhere in the house but with the idea of it being a more private, personal and less formal presenting space. (These rooms are much more soc/middle class. Greasers don’t have the space or the money)

[demialwrites]

Butterfly in a Jar Ch 3

AO3 Link

He may have been trying to distract you from sneaking back into the forbidden room. He goes in the direction of his room but when you go to check on him, he's not there. And the forbidden room has to, understandably, be unlocked at some point for others to use.

Rufus left the door open, maybe another example of his obsession giving him tunnel vision. You decide to take a peek. Rufus' room is large and rectangular-shaped. Even while under house arrest, he gets a bigger room than you will probably ever have. It contains a bed on one end and a dresser across from it. The other end of the room has various workout equipment. In the middle, to one side, is a wide floor-length mirror, for vanity reasons, to check his workout form, or maybe both. An ajar door in the corner reveals an ensuite bathroom, judging by the sink vanity within. There's more furniture placed neatly around the room, including a sofa and desk with a chair. A rug in front of the sofa ties the room together and a single cordless telephone with a landline connection lies on the desk.

By the time Tseng comes by the dining room to ask for a report of sorts–as if you know how to give one of those–you’re feeling useless and lost. While not warm or kind, you find the VP to have the qualities suitable for his title. Even you can see that. You keep returning to what a terrible, terrible father the president must be and how being trapped here must be slowly eroding his son's health. That's how you would fair in his shoes. You don't remember what the news stated last about his age, but you recall several years ago hearing about his 25th birthday.

“If the problem is the environment, then I can't help,” you tell Tseng.

“We just expect you to do your best,” says Tseng.

You groan, head in your hands. “But what if the president changes his mind?” Thinking back again to the contract, it feels like an iron cage. It would be easy for a person to crush someone that's trapped in a cage.

“Let me worry about that.”

There's a tiny, mischievous smile on Tseng's lips. You would miss it if it wasn't unusual for him to smile in the first place. It takes some guesswork on your part but you start to understand that what goes on down here isn't the picture that Tseng paints for Rufus' father. How devious. You like it.

You have no choice; you have to work with what you have. And that's control over Rufus. How does that make you better than his father? your conscience asks. You discard that thought. You wouldn't intimidate someone into trapping themselves in a contract. You decide, fine , you'll bring in your gear to tame this man. And President Shinra did you a small favour in that regard. You have the feeling of a cornered animal to motivate you in the face of someone more powerful.

You look at Tseng with budding determination.

“I'm trusting you,” you say pointedly.

“And I, you,” he replies.

Standing here, staring at Tseng standing upright, yet naturally so, reminds you about something. You look away, embarrassed. “Uh, one more thing.”

He waits for you to continue.

“I forgot to use Rufus' title when addressing him. How come no one told me off?” you ask cautiously.

Tseng leans back barely perceptively, considering his answer. “We don’t expect you to understand the power structure at Shinra, let alone among the Turks.”

“The VP isn’t a Turk.” Even calling him ‘the VP’ feels weird in your mouth.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Tseng says smoothly, indicating the matter is settled. “If he wanted you to use his title, he would have indicated so.”

“Ah.” You nod. Perhaps they also don't expect you to hang around long enough for it to matter.

The next morning, you come with a small bag. You had also slipped a new novel in there, in case you needed something to fill the time. The time for taking mental notes is over. Perhaps Tseng picks up on your determination because he only glances once at your bag, and then gestures politely to the elevator. He also shows you a new room with lockers where you can store the bag. Even though it's plain, it's exciting to see more of the floor. You consider it a side effect of being confined to two rooms.

You gratefully eat Rude's breakfast then volunteer to do the dishes yourself. You find some elbow-length rubber gloves in one of the cabinets and busy yourself because you want to give the absent Rufus a chance to come to the kitchen to eat. If he doesn't, he will be partially to blame for your actions.

Time stretches like that red carpet that stretched towards President Shinra's desk on that terrifying day. At least this doesn't feel nearly as bad. You also have the novel to read.

Tseng enters the kitchen.

“How long has he been in there?” you ask him, putting a bookmark between the pages.

Understanding what you mean, he mulls it over, checking his watch.

“When was the last time he ate?” is your follow-up question.

His severe features deepen uncomfortably, indicating that it's been a while. You feel for the man. But you're also getting annoyed.

After waiting a second to cool off, you ask, “Can you pull him out, please?”

Tseng nods and leaves the room immediately, presumably to obey your order. You're surprised that he is, but he must be willing to go this far. A few moments later, you put the novel on the table and follow, intending to wait in the hallway.

It's Reno and Rude that pull him out of the room. Rufus doesn't have the strength to stop them. Tseng closes the door to make sure you can't peep.

“Can you take him to his room, please?” you ask.

“You got it, Boss,” Reno replies.

Rude throws Rufus over his shoulder and proceeds down the hallway. You can see it blazing in his eyes, he's struggling with the indignity of being carried like a white sack of potatoes.

“How dare you,” he snaps coldly, spotting you, the source of this inconvenience, behind Rude.

This is an outright denial of what he views as a lifeline and strangely, he still hasn't raised his voice. His rage could fuel a cold snap but it's strangely comforting. You hate being yelled at. He could glare at you all day but as long as he's got an indoor voice, you could manage.

“Put him on the bed, please.”

It's possible that you've delayed earning his trust but you're not sure what else to do. Rufus has stubbornly continued his bad habits. Rude places him gently on the bed, then Reno takes the initiative to cuff one of his hands to the bedpost. Rufus turns his glare to him but says nothing. Reno brushes it off like it's nothing and hands you the key. He's quite happy to be ‘helping.’ You wonder if this is a regular thing Reno does while working. As long as you’re not on the receiving end, you can dismiss it as a humorous tendency. It's customary for Slum-dwellers to ignore and avoid Turks, anyway.

You thank both gentlemen and they leave.

You examine how Rufus looks cuffed to the bed, indignantly stewing. He's a pretty crown prince, suffering the indignity of being punished by the common folk. Until he can shape up, this is exactly how he belongs. You know what you need.

“You don't need those cuffs,” you say, voicing your thoughts out loud.

“But?” he asks, perking up but already tensed to think of a counter move.

Curse this man for his ability to plan ahead. Still, you leave to go grab your bag. You return to finding Rufus jamming a wire-shaped object in the cuffs’ keyhole. You can't believe it. Actually, you can. He hides the object in his suit jacket’s pocket when he catches you looking. Maybe if he wasn't in rough shape, he could have hidden his actions properly.

You sit down on the bed next to him. He waits for your next move. You reach around him on both sides to put the key in the cuffs. He doesn't stiffen up from the close proximity, which is a great sign. He smells like something cool and musky, like subdued mint. And generic soap. That must be what's available on this floor. At least you can confirm he doesn't neglect his hygiene. When the cuffs come off, he stands up.

“I see you've-”

Before he can finish what he's about to say, you're up on your tiptoes and slipping a collar around his neck. He still has slow reflexes so you're able to tighten and buckle it before he can stop you. You tug on it from the side, tilting him off-balance. While he's teetering, you push him back and he falls butt-first back onto the bed.

He can't see what's around his neck so he feels it with his fingers. It's new, plain black, and soft on the inside, so it can’t be uncomfortable. It looks downright cheap in comparison to his clothes but it should do for now. His eyebrows rise, sighing wearily. Then his gaze slides to you.

“What do you want?”

He stares expectantly like you will state your terms for his release, which you ignore. He is not going to talk his way out of this.

“I want you to sleep. You need sleep.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Is that so? So you can go report to my father?”

That takes you by surprise. Not just because he's wrong but because you haven't heard a thing from the president, not even through Tseng. It's like you were thrown down here and forgotten about. I don't think he cares , is on the tip of your tongue but you keep your mouth shut. You're here to ultimately make him feel better, not upset him.

Instead, you answer, “No. I don't talk to him. I don't like him.”

“That makes two of us, doesn't it?” he responds. Despite agreeing with you, his expression is no less weary.

“You can go to sleep or just lie here,” you say. “Either way, you’re staying. I can probably have the others drag you back to bed if you like.”

“They’re not here twenty-four hours a day,” he says, tilting his head thoughtfully as if he's speaking to an idiot.

He’s got you there. So without much thought, you counter with, “The longer you keep this up, the longer I have to be here.”

The implication is that either or both of you want you gone. Is that true? You might have played yourself with that counter. Like you dug your own hole and promptly fell into it. You don’t actually want to leave yet. You want to save your neck but you've gotten used to Rude's good cooking, Tseng's stable presence, and Reno's wicked energy. Not to mention you've gotten used to the clean air up here on the Plate. You can’t say that to him while he’s in this state. He’ll probably use it against you to get more time in that damned room. But if he says he does want you gone and shuts you out-

“Let me give you some advice,” Rufus says, interrupting your thoughts. “Be careful around Tseng.”

“What?”

“Consider this. He got you to put a dog collar on me. What else is he capable of?” He shrugs.

You tilt your head, unsure where he's going with this. “I…don't think he's the type to enjoy this. He…he doesn't even know.”

“You think so?”

“I think…you're just trying to talk your way out of this. Again.” You throw your hands up defensively. “Take it off, if you want.” Collaring someone won't work if it's against their will, anyway.

He smirks, hearing that, like he won himself a little victory. He rises to stand in front of the mirror. He tugs a few times at the collar with his thumb hooked underneath. Then he turns the buckle around to the front.

Ultimately, his hands drop.

“You can leave. I want to rest.”

“O-oh, okay, Your Highness,” you splutter.

Rufus is taking off his suit jacket as you close the door behind you. Your eyes meet just before it clicks shut. You wonder what he's thinking.

[mylostloversbookmarks]

Hello lovely lady - I'm obsessed with these prompts - how about ❛ you’re leaving already? ❜ for Frankie?? <3

I only pray, Don't fall away from me

Summary – You wake up in an all too familiar bedroom and things don’t quite go as expected...

Word count ~ 2.3K

Warnings/Tags 18+ only. Minors dni. Typical canon language, a lil touch of angst (wouldn’t be like me hehe) arguing, mentions of abandonment, hurt feelings, possible reconciliation, soft/Frankie, pleading/Frankie

A/N ~ Hello, my lovely! Thank you so much for sending me this prompt, and I apologise that it has taken me 3 business years to respond, lol. I hope you enjoy...

Also, a huge thank you and cuddle to my two angels @darkroastjoel and @cutesyscreenname for reading and encouraging me to post. I love you both.

Divider credit to ~ @saradika

You’re woken to your skin pricking. Unable to focus on anything but how overheated you are. A bright stream of sunlight heats your face as you faintly register the sound of birds chirping in the distance.

This would be a pleasant way to wake up in any other circumstance, but the pounding of blood in your ears, the throbbing pain in your temples and the dryness in your mouth is stealing all the pleasure from the moment.

Slowly coming to as you attempt to stretch your heavy limbs – chasing that achy pleasure of a first thing in the morning stretch – but your movements are stopped abruptly. Your brain lurches into alertness and you’re suddenly very aware of the long limbs tangled with your own and the hot breath dancing lightly against the soft skin of your cheek.

“Fuck,” you whisper internally, cursing your weak will power for allowing you to wind up in this situation...again.

Taking a deep breath, you pry one eye open. Immediately squinting in pain at the brightness of the large room. Allowing your tired eyes to adjust whilst attempting to wriggle out of the furnace that is currently holding you hostage in his bed.

Managing to slide your legs out from where they are sandwiched between his, reaching up with your free arm to carefully remove his from where it was resting over your bare chest. Staying absolutely still until the light snoring resumes.

Once completely sure there is slim chances of your jostled movements waking him, you slither gently out of the queen-sized bed and silently gather your purse and clothes from where they where strewn over the floor, furniture and with a deep pang of mortification your lacy underwear from atop the bedside lampshade.

Padding down the hall to the bathroom to quickly splash some cold water on your face and chest in an attempt to cool down. You considered jumping in the shower but the last thing you wanted was to risk waking him. Spying a bottle of Listerine in the cabinet above the sink and take the opportunity to rinse your mouth, suppressing a gag at the overpowering minty-alcohol flavour that clings to your taste buds.

Dressing quickly, thankful that last night’s catch up with the girls was only intended to be a casual dinner with a few drinks, so you had worn a casual flowy black linen t-shirt dress and a pair of strappy sandals. At least with this outfit, it wasn’t going to be completely obvious to the outside world that you were, in fact, doing the ‘walk of shame’.

With hesitation, you dare to look at your reflection in the vanity mirror, thankful you had managed to remove what little makeup that had survived the night, only the slightest smudge of mascara still remained around your tired eyes.

Digging in your purse in the hopes of finding the hair tie you used to tame your wild hair back into a loose bun at the nape of your neck last night but coming up short. With a sigh you settle for your sunglasses, pushing them to the crown of your head to keep your hair out of your eyes.

Creeping out of the bathroom, shoes in hand, you head down the hall towards the living area. Too busy scrolling on your phone attempting to find an uber, you trip on the crumpled hall matt which sends you clattering to the floor.

"Oh, for fuck sake," you curse a little louder than necessary.

Wincing as you hear a groggy voice calling your name from behind the bedroom doer which you had left slightly ajar, afraid the click of the door closing would waken him.

"Are you alright?" the gravelly voice called again, sounding like it is growing closer.

" Uh yeah, I'm fine, I just tripped," You explain quickly, embarrassment colouring your tone.

Racing to pack the contents of your purse back to their rightful places, you hear the creak of the bedroom door and footsteps making their way towards you. Glancing at your phone willing the little spinning circle to load a car, but it just continues to spin. Why the hell is there no ubers in this area?!

The footsteps come to a halt behind you, and despite how hard you try, you cannot help the way your shoulders slump in defeat. Knowing that the conversation you were trying so desperately to avoid is inevitable now.

Turning to face him, the Smile that pulls at your still swollen lips comes of its own accord. He’s tousled, with his hair adorably messy, and his eyes squinting from the morning light. He’s wearing only a pair of sleep shorts, and you can’t help but acknowledge that, despite everything, he’s undeniably attractive. You mentally chastise yourself for not learning from past experiences with this man.

"Hi Frankie," you say shyly, unable to meet his eyes.

"Morning amorcita " he responds quietly, you can feel his eyes studying you intently.

"Don't do that, don't call me that okay?" You said bitterly.

He ignores you completely. Glancing at your fully dressed form and your bag slung over your shoulder.

" You're leaving already? " His voice is low with disappointment, eyes pleading for you to stay.

“Yes, I am leaving Frankie, I told you the last time that this couldn’t happen again!” You half shout, exasperated you all but rip the sunglasses of your head and run your fingers roughly through your tatted hair.

“And yet here you are. We always end up here Amor, why are you fighting this?” he reasoned, and you could see he was trying is best to control his temper, but you just didn’t have it in you anymore.

You could feel the rage bubbling in your stomach, your hands felt clammy and your neck was damp with sweat.

“Because you left me Frank! You fucking left me and I didn’t know if I would ever see you again.,” you screamed the words at him without even really knowing what you were saying.

You have wanted to say those words to him for so long but never had the guts to speak them aloud. Now they were out, hanging in the air like a thunderous storm waiting to break. The room fell silent, the tension thickening with each passing second. You couldn’t believe you let those words escape your lips, but there was no taking them back now.

Frankie’s face contorted with a mixture of surprise, hurt and regret. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, struggling to find the right response.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I had to go, and it tore me apart, but I owed Santi and I thought it was the right thing to do at the time." he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, stop it! Don’t bring Santiago into this. You know he would have understood if you said no, but you didn’t! Don’t pretend that you went for anyone but yourself. You...you didn’t even say goodbye,”

“Your right. I was selfish I know and I’m sorry, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. It wasn’t fair to you,” he replied, his gaze finally meeting your tear-filled eyes.

“I never meant to cause you pain.”

“You think an apology makes everything okay?” you snapped, your anger reaching a precipice.

“Do you have any idea how much I struggled to get over you? To move on with my life?”

Frankie’s shoulders slumped, his remorse becoming more evident. “I didn’t expect you to wait for me. When I got back, I thought it would be better for both of us if I just disappeared.”

“Better for who?” you asked, tears threatening to spill over. “You didn’t consider how I would feel, how much it would hurt to have someone I cared about disappear without a word.”

He took a step closer reaching out tentatively as if wanting to comfort you, but you instinctively backed away. His hurt expression only fuelled your frustration.

“I loved you, Frankie. Fuck I still love you,” you admit, your voice choked with emotion. “And I have tried so hard to forget about you, to move forward, but every time you come back into my life, I can’t help but be drawn back in again and again.”

Frankie’s expression softened, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed to be grappling with his own internal conflict.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of your eye. “I can’t keep falling into this vicious cycle with you. It’s not healthy for either of us.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the emotions in the room was suffocating. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“Goodbye, Frankie,” you said finally, your voice steady but laced with sadness. Without giving him a chance to respond, you turned on your heel and walked towards the front door. Leaving him standing there in the midst of the shattered pieces of what was once your relationship.

“Please, wait” he croaked; the tears brimming his eyes mirrored your own. As he caught you on the doorway, his hand gently wrapped around your wrist, his thumb stroking back and forth.

“Amorcito, I love you. I cannot lose you again. Por favor.” He pleaded, tears flowing freely. “Can we please talk, I’ll make breakfast?” He asked desperately gesturing to the kitchen behind him.

It felt like hours passed as you stood in the doorway, head at war with your heart. You know you should leave, hold your ground and walk away for good this time. You knew this would only end up hurting in the long run.

“Okay,” you replied, your voice softening despite the turmoil in your heart. His touch and the sincerity in his eyes made it impossible to turn away from him completely. With a mix of hesitation and hope, you allowed him to lead you back inside and to the kitchen.

As Frankie scrambled to make breakfast, you found yourself sitting at his dining table, lost in your thoughts. The memories of your past with him flooded your mind, and you couldn’t help but remember the good times – the laughter, the shared dreams, and the undeniable connection that you still felt with him. But those memories where now overshadowed by pain.

Frankie placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of you, but you found it hard to eat, your appetite suppressed by the emotional whirlwind surrounding you. He sat across from you, fidgeting with his own food, seemingly at a loss for words.

Finally you broke the silence, unable to bear the tension any longer. “Frankie, we can’t just pretend like everything is okay and go back to the way things were. It’s not that simple.”

He sighed, looking down at his plate. “I know and I don’t expect it to be. But can we at least try to talk about what happened and see if there’s any chance for us to move forward?”

You thought for a moment, contemplating whether this conversation would lead to more heartache or if it could bring some closure. “Fine, but no more avoiding the difficult questions,” you said firmly.

Frankie nodded, his eyes locked on yours in a mix of vulnerability and determination. “You deserve an explanation, and I’m ready to give you one. I thought leaving was the right thing to do for both of us at the time. When I got back, I was so fucked up I didn’t want to burden you with my problems, and I didn’t want to hold you back from pursuing your own dreams,”

“But Frankie, we were a team,” you interjected, your voice wavering. “We supported each other through thick and thin. You where my partner in everything. When you left, it felt like a part of me was missing.”

He swallowed hard his throat tight with emotion. “I should have come to you, told you I was leaving...said goodbye. And I will regret that for the rest of my life.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt confession, You could see in his eyes that he meant every word that was pouring from his beautiful mouth. But you know that rebuilding the trust that you once had in him would take a lot of time and effort.

“Frankie, I still love you, I don’t think I ever really stopped loving you, but love isn’t enough to fix what’s broken between us,” you admitted. “We need to figure out if we can move forward without repeating the same mistakes.”

He nodded solemnly, taking your hand across the table. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, to earn back your trust. I can’t lose you...not again.”

The pain in his words struck a chord deep in your heart, and you could feel your resolve weakening. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but a part of you wanted to believe that people could change and grow.

“I need time to think,” You said softly, gently removing your hand from his. “This is going to take time, I wasn’t expecting this to happen and I’m so hungover,” You sighed a breathy laugh into your hands as you rub your temples vigorously.

“Oh that’s right, I interrupted your sneaking out didn’t I?” Frankie gave his own chuckle in response.

In that moment, you saw a snippet of the man that you fell for all those years ago and thought to yourself that your Frankie might still be in there after all.

[freyjathewolf]

Thebe Estate, Tartosa

I'm a huge Felixandre fan, if you haven't seen his phenomenal work, you are missing out. I think most everyone who builds in Sims 4 knows his fantastic works and his architectural is by far top tier. With the release of his Estate set, I thought the Thebe Estate in Tartosa could use a little makeover.

My inspo was to keep the overall layout of the build. I love that it already has the feel of an established estate, I just wanted to give it a bit more, "Old Money' vibe. I set out to not only find items that kept a modern furnishing, but my IRL love of thrifting and antiquing had me wanting to find pieces that felt like they might be heirloom, or restored finds.

Redecorating is probably one of my favorite parts of the gameplay and has been since I first discovered the Sims 1 in the early 2000s. I hope you guys love it.

Details are listed below for creators and items used. Anything not specifically stated by a creator is from a Maxis pack.

Thebe Estate, Tartosa

$699,459

Bed - 4 Bath - 4

Exterior items - Felixandre: Estate set

Harrie: Coastal Arbour and sandbox with pail and spade

Greenhouse - Lili's Palace: Budapest set

Pierisim: Winter Garden

House of Harlix: Kichen hanging greenery

Kirsicca: Stone step terrain for flooring

Antiques in home - Lili's Palace: Intarsia set, Heirloom

KHD: Elodie, Avonlea, Countess

PlatinumLuxeSims: LV trunk (open and closed)

Bathrooms - Felixandre: Florence set, Lili's Palace: Budapest set for shower door and wall

Furniture - Felixandre: Chateau Set, Fayun Sofas, Florence Dining

Rugs - Sooky: English Countryside, Loloi Area Giada Collection

Simplistic: Rifle Paper Co

Walls - Sooky: Victorian Wall, William Morris Wallpapers with Panelling

Felixandre: Colonial Crane, Estate Set Panelling Wall, Georgian Panorama, Chateau Molding, Chateau Chinoiserie Wall

Harrie: The Apartment Copenhagen - Swedish Panelling

Flooring - Sooky: checkered marble floors, Victorian floor tiles

Pierisim: MCM wood floor

Felixandre: Chateau marble floors

Fireplaces - Felixandre: Paris Fireplace, Gothic Revival Fireplace 2

Harrie: Coastal Fireplace,

Lili's Palace: Intarisa: Renaissance Revival Ceramic Stove

Florals - House of Harlix: Orjanic

Felixandre: Chateau, Florence,

Pierisim: Coldbrew, Woodland Ranch, Precious Promises, Winter Garden, Domaine du Clos, David's Apartment, Oak House

Sofa Pillows - Peacemaker_ic ( find also under Simsational Designs)

Television - CharlyPancakes Art Telly

Desktop - Pierisim The Office Mini kit

Artwork - Thrifted Art, Florence Set, Chateau Set, KHD Romanesque Small Tapestry, Lili's Palace Intarisa (all), Sooky framed art and vintage art, and Dark Academia

Misc - Maison Meuliere doorbell, KHD Antique Chandelier, MF buncha books, bbygyall123 magazines, vanity clutter, pumpkinspice candle, tuds shkr ceramic bowl

[chthonicgodling]

Giiiiive us.... Maci's current living space! What does it look like. What is the the decore. The vibes!

bOyyy oh boy in a perfect world I could be like “ah yes, let me whip out these detailed schematics and background art of Maci’s bedroom and palace!” BUT I cannot do that because those drawings do not exist lmfao and, due to my whiny dislike of drawing anything that I personally do not like to draw - props, scenery, furniture 😔 - probably will not ever exist. HOWEVER!

you would think that I’d have given more thought into some of these details than the amount of thought I actually have over all these years so I’m about to make some split second canon decisions in this lengthy set of paragraphs, blended up with things that I HAVE given thought to and. I will not be specifying which is which so that I seem like I’m on top of my game ggkfkgkgkg soooo

Maci’s living space is the heart and soul and main setting of the entire Elysium’verse, as she and all her friends live in a giant palace in the middle of the Elysian Fields of the Underworld. It’s HER very own personal palace (separate from the main, bigger palace in the main, bigger Underworld); her parents gave it to her when she was an actual teenager even though she didn’t move into it until millennia later, with Tory, when that became their home ever after. I refer sometimes to “the palace” or “everyone else in the palace” its Maci’s one here that i’m referring to!

The Elysian Fields are a physical bubble of artificial bubbly sunlight in the middle of the afterlife but Maci’s palace is more on trend with the Underworld itself it’s a BIG ass goth castle. Loosely Greco-Roman in architectural style obviously — although I enjoy the thought of the palace being very anachronistic - mmmm idk really. there’s columns on it. it’s all black. whatever!!! it’s whatever you imagine it to be!!

Canonically I BELIEVE it’s got at least three floors but more importantly it’s got literally infinitely generating bedrooms because it’s maaggicccccc. Most everyone’s bedrooms are loosely near each others in the same wings or at least according to family units. Yes all the kids have their own rooms! The kids also have a huge playroom; Tory’s got multiple art studios of his own; there is NOT a throne room in the Elysium palace actually its my personal cute belief that this is what the living room den area was supposed to be and they just,, chucked a Regular Huge Family Style Sofa in there and a tv fgkfkfkg. Huge family kitchen-dining room….

There’s an expansive courtyard in the middle of the palace grounds, a pool as well (somewhere else?? I think that’s inside??) , the whole palace is surrounded by meticulously maintained gardens!

Everything is black. EVERYTHING is black. theres also sooo much marble (it’s just very fireproof), also there’s lights but also many candles it’s a blend,, like I said I love love love the thought of the palace being incredibly anachronisticz Big goth ornate palace with a..,, regular giant family couch and Legos from the kids scattered everywhere—

Maci’s PERSONAL living space aka her bedroom with Tory - honestly it’s, so lovingly, like a revolving door common area in and of itself too haha. Maci & Tory’s bedroom is nearly ballroom sized, it’s connected to their bathroom (with features such as a bathtub the size of a small swimming pool). Maci’s got paintings of herself and tory on her walls (Tory painted them all!! There’s sculptures of her and the kids scattered through the palace too - also done by Tory!) other features incluudeee ridiculous huge vanity, giant mirrors,, again lights but also goth pyromaniac shit like candelabras. Maci’s bed is ridiculously huge, it’s able to fit quite regularly and very comfortably like. Eight people PLUS at a time lmao. ouyughh I don’t actually know what her bed looks like except that it’s uhh. got a headboard and corner posts that are……. Handcuffable fgkfkgkgk

on that note turning nsfw VERY quickly when talking about Maci’s bedroom — Running joke forever that one of her bedroom walls behind a curtain inexplicably has CHAINS on it. though thats less inexplicable if you’re cute enough ;) the other running joke forever is Maci’s walk in closet, behind another curtain — The Closet™ breaks the laws of physics to be an infinite spiralling room of every sex toy known to man and presumably some that mortals have yet to discover. it’s her pride and joy, very well organized, frequently ransacked by the rest of the palace residents fgkfkfk

the vibe IS very distinct and honestly iconic its , giving.,,,, Ornate Luxurious Princess of the Dead/Sleazeball Royalty of the Underworld/Spoiled Beyond Your Imagination/Horny Vampires COULD Live Here. It gives VERY Maci. welcome to the palace!!! it’s 🖤home!

[13thalcoragent]

My Stepmother and Stepsisters Do Not Pick On Me

~

Cinder: I am an orphan and after my mother’s death, I was sent to a decrepit orphanage in the middle of nowhere Anima before I was adopted.

Cinder: My stepmother and her daughters probably hate me, but I’ll take any deal…

~

Straight-Haired Sister: Eeh? You stink too much. And your face is all dirty, too. You’re irritating me with your appearance. Don’t you feel pitiful living like garbage?

Curly-Haired Sister: *chuckled*

Straight-Haired Sister: Come here. *grabs Cinder by the arm*

Cinder: *gets pulled along* Kya!

BATHROOM

Straight-Haired Sister: *washing Cinder’s hair* Your hair is so unkempt. Seriously…I don’t know what that orphanage was thinking, having you live like this.

Curly-Haired Sister: *washing Cinder’s arm* Can you believe it? People think it’s what’s on the inside that’s important. But physical appearance are just as important as what’s on the inside.

Cinder: Eh?

VANITY

Straight-Haired Sister: She’s already pretty as is, let’s just use a ribbon and fix her hair.

Curly-Haired Sister: I don’t want her to have your ugly face. She still has the face of a little girl. She has to make a more adorable impression.

Cinder: Eeeeh? What…?

CLOSET

Straight-Haired Sister: A blouse and a pair of pants would look better on her!

Curly-Haired Sister: No, a big dress would be better!

Cinder: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhh??????????????????

Madame: Girls.

Both Sisters: Mother!

Madame: Stop talking nonsense, just do it.

Straight-Haired Sister: Nothing’s wrong, Mom. Don’t get mad!

Curly-Haired Sister: We weren’t fighting…

Cinder: They both seem very upset…My stepmother really is a scary person…

Madame: Regarding the place where you will sleep. I think there’s some space in the storage room.

Cinder: …The storage room?! Well, I should thank them for not leaving me out in the rain and cold ether way…

Madame: We will carry the furniture from study to the storage room, and we will turn the study into your room!

Cinder: EH~?????????????????

DINING ROOM

Curly-Haired Sister: Let’s go look at flowers after lunch.

Straight-Haired Sister: Let’s go shopping instead. I saw something that would look great on you.

Cinder: *slightly confused* Eh…What…

Madame: Don’t talk at the table.

Cinder: Mom, my new family…it’s very warm.

[rom-e-o]

Blue (Scrooge/Constance) Ficlet

On a morning like any other, Ebenezer finds himself captivated by Constance as she applies her make-up in the morning. He stands in the doorway, his eyes fixed upon her graceful movements and the way her face transforms with each stroke of color. Constance catches him watching and playfully teases him about his apparent fascination.

Rated PG for suggestive content and language! FULL STORY UNDER GIF.

The morning sunlight spilled through the tall windows of the bed, casting a soft glow upon the bedchamber. Shades of gold and green glimmered in the light of dawn, highlighting all the high-points of the deco-style, geometric furniture with sprinkles of light.

The newest installation in the bedroom sat in a corner near the chamber’s moody, stone fireplace. It was a deeply lacquered vanity, featuring a mirror rimmed with carved chrysanthemums and drawers trimmed with golden hardware, that Ebenezer had purchased for Constance as a wedding present. The gift was not only greatly appreciated (Constance had kissed him practically senseless following the reveal) but used daily. It allowed her to stay in the bedroom as she readied herself for the day, which was much more convenient that occupying an entire bathroom.

On a velvet-lined stool, Constance sat down at the impressive piece, pulling at her slip to make sure to make sure it didn’t wrinkle under her bum when she sat.  Normally, she would have donned a robe for this part of her morning routine. Yet, with summer arriving mere weeks before and the heat of a stuffy London June in full effect, she’d opted for less layers, especially since she was within the privacy of the bedroom she shared with her husband.

Reaching into a drawer a palette of colors before her, she produced a compact of two eyeshadow colors; corn-flower blue and wasp-bone brown. 

As she delicately brushed a hint of the blue eyeshadow onto her lids, she noticed a flicker of movement in the doorway.

There, standing with his arms crossed and a handsome grin upon his face, was Ebenezer. He was watching her with full attention.

Donned only in his trousers, as he’d paused mid-dress to gaze upon her, he drank in the lovely sight of his almost bare form before him.

A fond smile played on his lips as he watched her transform from a bare-faced goddess to the enchanting woman before him. Her cosmetic routine was one that only he bore witness to, and as a result, he was quite protective of it. A surge of pride went through him every time he realized that he was the only one who got to witness the sacred ritual of watching the woman ready herself to face the world.

She was a performer; a socialite. In a way, her make-up was a mask. A persona she adopted in public. It was also a form of inspiration for her. For so long, her former partner had controlled every aspect of her life, from the dresses she wore to the food she was allowed to eat and, of course, her make-up.

With her freedom from his chain came the opportunity to…find herself. To embrace opportunities she’d never had before!

For example, er ex-husband hated blue. In fact, he’s said it was a color ‘suited for newborns, and nobody else.’ So, she adorned cornflower-blue eyeshadow to match her eyes and emphasize her taffy-colored hair. She took such delight in the gesture, giggling and smiling with each tap of a brush against her eyelid.

After a beat, Constance glanced back at him through the reflection in the mirror, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"My lovely husband," she teased, her voice laced with a playful tone. "Am I to believe that you find my morning routine so captivating that you cannot tear your eyes away?"

Ebenezer chuckled softly, his gaze fixed upon her radiant face. "Guilty. Your beauty never fails to mesmerize me, even in the simplest of moments."

Constance pretended to ponder his words for a moment, her brush pausing mid-air. "Hmm, perhaps I should start charging admission for the privilege of witnessing my morning make-up routine. I could make a fortune with your undivided attention."

Ebenezer stepped closer, his eyes brimming with adoration. Goodness, he loved when she accepted his compliments. It was a rare occurrence. Some other London gentlemen were dense enough to call any lack of modesty ‘unladylike’ (whatever the bloody hell that meant, he thought) but nothing excited him more than when his lovely wife seemed to catch a glimpse of the all-encompassing beauty that he saw.

"I would gladly pay any price to witness the magic that unfolds before me each day,” he said, his voice soft and genuine.

With a knowing smile, Constance continues to apply a touch of color to her lips, her movements slow and deliberate. Ebenezer's gaze followed the path of the lipstick as it glided over her the skin, turning the soft pink flesh a delicious shade of matte red.  

As she blotted the color to help it retain its vibrancy, she could see his eyes move to watch the pursing and plumping of her colored lips.

Unable to resist the magnetic pull any longer, Ebenezer closed the remaining distance between them. His expert hands lofted to her shoulders, covered only by the thin straps of her slip. With the press of his fingers, he worked her shoulders and spine in such a way that a moan left her.

His voice, filled with warmth, purred seductively in her ear. "My Sunflower, everything about your beauty, adorned with make-up or bare as a cloudless sky, transcends the strokes of any artist’s brush.”

Constance met his gaze in the mirror, his words making her chest heave with deep, stunned breaths. She sat down her lipstick, her fingers reaching up to touch his cheek.

“You have a way of making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world,” she whispered sweetly.

“I am merely an honest man,” he countered swiftly.

“Oh, you!” she giggled, reaching for an atomizer of perfume. She sprayed it across her collarbone, the combination of pear and lily notes hypnotic and alluring. In summer, she also added a touch of apricot oil to the bottle, for a seasonal touch. He thought it made her smell even more delectable, and only enhanced his desire to take a bite out of her sumptuous form.

Before she could spray the back of her neck, he stole the bottle from her hands to assist her. Holding the crystalline bottler as gently as a dove, he held up her molten locks as he spritzed her shoulders and back, making sure all her pulse-points were properly dressed with the fragrant potion.

“Shall I testify it before the court of law?” he asked. “Under threat of perjury?”

“I think I’d die of embarrassment,” she said with a blush, waving a hand dismissively before her face.

He reached over her to set the bottle down. Then, with their faces inches apart, he turned to face her with eyes as hot as twin stars. “You’d look radiant, and you damn well know it.”

The room filled with silence as Ebenezer's hand found its way to the back of Constance's neck. Briefly toying with a curl of the strawberry-gold hair, he wound the mock around his fingers before bringing it to his lips. Then, his entire hand danced up the waterfall of hair until it reached the back of her head, and he could easily fist his fingers in the long strands.

Then, slowly, he urged her to turn her head.

Their lips meet in a kiss filled with the depths of love, the taste of devotion and the brush of smoldering passion that the closeness of their bare bodies was threatening to become rekindled.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads resting gently against each other, Constance whispered, “You… may stare all you like, Ebenezer. No charge.”

He let out a teasing chuckle as he pushed some loose tendrils of hair back from her face. It appeared “You won’t grow tired of my adoration?”

With deadpan seriousness, she shook her head. “I will never tire of anything about you.”

Ebenezer smiled, his voice a mere whisper against her lips.

"Then, with your blessing,” he started, sweeping her off the seat and into his arms, “I will continue to marvel at the incredible woman I am fortunate enough to call mine."

<><><>

@quill-pen​ I’m really riding high with this new “blue” motif, haha!