#wrapping a Car Gold Coast

[provinyl09]

Transform Your Vehicle with Provinyl: Wrapping a Car Gold Coast

In the vibrant city of Gold Coast, making a statement with your vehicle is easier than ever with car wrapping services. Provinyl offers top-notch solutions for wrapping a car Gold Coast, providing a stylish and protective alternative to traditional paint. This article explores the benefits of car wrapping, the services offered by Provinyl, and why we are the best choice for wrapping a car in Gold Coast.

The Benefits of Wrapping a Car Gold Coast

Car wrapping is an innovative method to change the look of your vehicle without the commitment and cost of a full paint job. Here are some key benefits of wrapping a car Gold Coast:

Versatility: Car wraps come in a variety of colors, finishes, and textures, allowing you to customize your vehicle to your exact preferences. Whether you want a matte finish, a glossy shine, or a unique pattern, wrapping a car in Gold Coast offers endless possibilities.

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Cost-Effective: Compared to a full paint job, wrapping a car Gold Coast is more affordable and can be easily updated or removed without damaging the original paint.

Resale Value: By protecting the original paint, a car wrap can help maintain your vehicle’s resale value.

Provinyl’s Expert Services for Wrapping a Car Gold Coast

Provinyl specialises in providing high-quality car wrapping services in the Gold Coast. Our team of skilled technicians ensures that every wrap is applied flawlessly, giving your vehicle a fresh, new look. Here’s what sets Provinyl apart when it comes to wrapping a car Gold Coast:

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Why Choose Provinyl for Wrapping a Car Gold Coast?

When it comes to wrapping a car in Gold Coast, Provinyl is the trusted choice for many vehicle owners. Here’s why:

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The Benefits of Wrapping a Car on the Gold Coast with Provinyl

There are several reasons why wrapping a car on the Gold Coast with Provinyl is a smart choice. First and foremost, car wraps are reversible, allowing you to revert to your car's original color if desired. This flexibility is ideal for those who like to change their vehicle's appearance frequently. Additionally, wrapping a car on the Gold Coast with Provinyl offers protection against UV rays, scratches, and minor abrasions, preserving your car's value.

Customisation Options for Wrapping a Car on the Gold Coast

One of the most exciting aspects of wrapping a car on the Gold Coast is the ability to customize your vehicle to your heart's content. Provinyl provides a wide range of colors, finishes, and textures to choose from, ensuring your car stands out on the road. Whether you prefer a glossy finish for a luxurious look or a matte wrap for a modern touch, Provinyl has the perfect solution for wrapping a car Gold Coast.

Trust Provinyl for Your Car Wrapping Needs

By choosing Provinyl, you're not just getting a car wrap; you're getting a work of art that reflects your style. If you're ready to elevate your vehicle's appearance, contact Provinyl today and experience the best in-car wrapping on the Gold Coast.

wrapping a car on the Gold Coast is a fantastic way to enhance your vehicle's aesthetics and protect its original paintwork. Provinyl offers top-quality wraps, expert installation, and a wide range of customisation options to suit your needs. Don't settle for anything less than the best—choose Provinyl for wrapping a car on the Gold Coast and transform your vehicle into a true masterpiece.

[ghostofhyuck]

Deja Vu

It’s been months since you two broke up and Jeno got a new girl now. She’s pretty, nice, and exactly his ideal type. And yet, the ghost of you still lingers, maybe because Jeno brings her to the places you two used to go. 

Deja vu? Maybe. Or it’s just Jeno’s not over you. 

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: angst, fluff, ex to lovers (?) cheating if you squint really REALLY hard.

Song inspiration: Deja Vu by Olivia Rodrigo

AN: TDS3 D3 Jeno went topless and it was a sign for me to finish this fic. 

Also this is part two of this fic. Read it so that you can have more context, but this can still serve as a stand-alone. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“So, where is this ride going?” you asked. 

“If I told you, it’ll ruin the surprise,” Jeno replied. A smile plastered on his lips as he took a quick glance at you before focusing on the road. 

It was five in the afternoon. The sun’s slowly setting, and the sky’s painted in its godly gold. It’s bright and warm, as the sun’s shine passed through the window of Jeno’s Ford Mustang. You just finished your last exam for the semester. After nights of cramming and chugging down coffee, you’re finally free from the semester. Vacation is just around the corner, and what’s the perfect thing to celebrate the end of semester other than celebrating it with your boyfriend?

You watched as Jeno drove smoothly across town, going down the coastal area where the sunset’s more pleasing to watch. You slide across the bridge and the next thing you know, the sun’s following you through the long bay of your town’s beach. 

Jeno knows how much you love the beach. It’s a safe place for you where you can get away from your university. So you two just usually hangout around the coast. 

Your boyfriend parks the car near the baywalk. He quickly turns off the engine, and just like the usual thing he does, he leaves the car first and opens your car for you. 

“You don’t always have to do this, you know that?��� 

“But I want to,” he said casually just like the way his arms wrapped around your shoulders immediately, pulling you closer to him. You only smile as he gives you a small kiss on the head. 

“So, where are you taking me?” you asked once again. 

Jeno only hums as he stops, that’s when your eyes widen at the shop in front of you. 

“No way!” you shouted. 

“They just opened yesterday, so why not celebrate with a cup of yoghurt?” Jeno smiled. 

“Oh my god, I’ve been craving for it for so long!” you shouted. 

Jeno only smiles, internally patting himself good job. He knows everything about you, and he knows how lately you’ve been obsessed with yoghurt. Whether it be a drink or served in a cup, you’ll love it somehow.

“Did I ever tell you that I love you?” you asked your boyfriend who only lets out a chuckle before stealing a kiss on you. 

“I love you too bub, now come on, it’s a do-it-yourself, so get as many toppings as you want.”

When you entered the shop, you immediately separated from your boyfriend, eager to have a cup of yoghurt. Jeno watched as you grabbed a large cup before going to the yoghurt machine. He was smiling ear to ear as you moved to the topping and sauce section, picking carefully your toppings because you’re still a picky eater nevertheless. 

Eventually, he joins you as he grabs a medium cup and picks some toppings that suit his taste. After weighing the cup and paying for the dessert, the two of you went out where an al fresco area can be found. You two sat at the corner, digging on the delectable treat that you two are having. 

The sun is setting and you’re halfway on your cup, you could only stare at the sun. feeling overwhelmed but in a good sense. You finally finished your semester and your boyfriend brought you to a yoghurt shop. You couldn’t help but to smile. Things are better and you just feel so lucky to be here right now. 

“Having deep thoughts again?” Jeno asked, knowing that you tend to space out sometimes. 

“No, no deep thoughts,” you told him. “Just happy right now.”

“Oh really?” Jeno teases, “can I ask why?”

You only smiled, “of course because school’s over, and I have my handsome boyfriend treat me my favorite dessert at the moment.”

Jeno only smiled, gazing at you lovingly. He wonders if days are going to be like this. He likes this life of his. In this town where it’s just you and him, in a small yoghurt shop, with the sun setting on the background. 

And as Jeno stares at you, he couldn’t help but be in awe. Thinking how lucky he is to have a girlfriend like you. 

Your attention shifted to him, making him stare at you even more lovingly.

“Jeno,” you called out. 

“What?” 

“You’re spacing out,”

“What makes you think of that, yn?” 

“Yn?”

Jeno’s eyes widened. 

“Who’s yn?” 

The girl in front of him is not you. Her hair is in a different shade, falling along her shoulders, unlike yours who you usually tie in a messy ponytail whenever you’re eating something. She’s pretty, definitely pretty that it can make anyone turn their head. 

They stared at each other for a minute. That’s when Jeno realised that your name slipped onto his lips. 

Fuck. He thought. That’s when he remembered. It’s been months ever since you two broke up. Months after that night that was full of frustrations and arguments. Jeno barely recalled what you two argued about but he knew that you were crying and instead of comforting you, he stormed out of your place.

You two didn’t break up that night officially, you called it quits over a text three days later. Instead of calling you, Jeno lets it be. Thinking that you two were just never meant to be. 

Unlike you, Jeno found it easy to get over you. He’s a charming guy, so it was quick for him to find another girl that he can love again. 

Or so he thought. Because as he stared at the girl in front of him, he couldn’t believe that he called her by your name. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing, sorry,” he quickly apologised. Shifting his attention to the melted yoghurt on his cup. 

Maybe it was his fault. For bringing her to the places you two went. Jeno knows that there are a lot of places where he can bring her, but why does he always end up in the coastal area? On a particular yoghurt shop that you love? 

Jeno couldn’t help but to question it. He thought that he’s over you but it seems like the ghost of you still keeps on haunting him. 

You who’s always cheery. You who always have a certain sweet treat every semester. You who loves bringing your polaroid camera and taking photos of the people you hang out with. 

You, who was there for Jeno. Who loved him despite his flaws and even though he is lacking in some parts, you ignored it and loved him nevertheless.

He wasn’t perfect, but you weren’t looking for a perfect boyfriend. You love Lee Jeno no matter what. And you always say that to him. 

“Hey Jen, I’m done here, should we get going now?” Jeno snapped out once again when she spoke out again. 

He stares at his yoghurt. It’s all melted and doesn’t look appetising at all. He then glances at the sun and it’s barely touching the sea. If it was you who’s with him, you two will wait until the sun sets and set out when the stars are in the sky. 

But you’re not with him anymore, and he’s with a new girl. Who’s pretty, who’s nice, and is exactly his ideal type. Jeno had accepted it, after all. It’s not only him who’s moving on. He knows that Mark Lee’s making a move on you. He watched as you laughed with him over a cup of coffee a few weeks earlier. 

So it seems like you two are moving on. Good for you. He thought. You deserve someone better than him. While he knows that there are no other girls that can surpass you, Jeno hopes that at least for his side, he can be a better man for his new girl. 

The ride home was nothing but an awkward tense. Jeno keeps on glancing at her, who’s too busy on her phone. If it was you, your eyes would linger on the view outside — even though you’ve grown up in this area, you always love staring at the view. But at some time, you’ll shift your gaze at Jeno, who’ll reciprocate your giggles with a soft chuckle. His free hand lacing around your fingers, never letting you go until you reached your place.

“Watch out!” and luckily, Jeno stepped on the brake quickly. His eyes staring at the dog that just passed by. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t —” 

“No, of course not! The dog suddenly jumped out of nowhere,” she said in a soft tone, smiling as she pats Jeno’s shoulders. “You prevented it too, and there’s no accident that happened, so it’s okay.”

Jeno could only let out a sigh. Somehow, he feels like blaming himself because of the incident, if it wasn’t him thinking about you, then maybe he’ll be more concentrated on his drive. He tried to focus on the road, but you’re in his mind no matter how hard he tries to shake the thought of you. 

He didn’t notice that he just reached her place. It was as if he was driving out of instincts. 

“Thanks for dropping me off,” she said, smiling. 

“No worries,” Jeno only said, and before she left, she gave Jeno a soft kiss on the cheeks. Jeno watches as she gets out of the car, walks through her apartment and closes the door. 

But Jeno couldn’t move from his seat. He doesn’t know what to do. Frustrated, Jeno lets out a sigh as he rests his head on the headboard. He doesn’t want to fuck up. He already ruined your relationship, he couldn’t bear to ruin another one too. 

“I’m so stupid,” Jeno whispered. He opens his eyes and looks at the road. He knows that deep inside, he’s not yet ready to enter another relationship. It’s too soon. 

Not when you spent three years together, and broke up abruptly. Throwing everything you two had. Never had a decent closure or even a proper apology from each other because of what happened that night. No. The only thing Jeno wants more is to find closure from you, and perhaps, in the better light, 

you two can finally move on and find someone better. 

Jeno knows that partly, it’s his fault that things went downhill. So it's up to him to fix everything. He turned on the engine, and without any hesitation, drove to a familiar route that he memorised by heart. It was a gamble, but Jeno was willing to see the outcome of his indecisive decisions. 

As he reached your place, Jeno didn’t hesitate to turn off his engine, leaving his car as soon as possible. 

He walks towards your apartment, a sense of familiarity welcomed him. It felt like home and Jeno tries to brush off that feeling — that odd sense of missing a place that has been a home for him for years. 

Jeno stops in front of your door. He lets out a deep sigh before knocking on the door. For a minute, no one answered.

He knocks once more. Two, three, four loud knocks, in hopes that it can be enough for you to open the door. 

But within a minute, no one answered. Jeno took it as a sign. That maybe closure isn’t for you two. Jeno tried to ease his beating heart — he didn’t even notice that it had been beating abnormally ever since he arrived at your place. 

So he turned his heels around, walking a few steps when he heard the door open. 

“Jeno? What are you doing here?” 

As he turned around, Jeno was shunned. 

There you are, with your hair in a mess, wearing your favourite cinnamoroll-patterned pajamas. He saw how your round eyes became wider as he made eye contact with you — both yearning for something. 

“I…I —” Jeno decided to go near you. “I just, want to ask you how you have been.” 

That was stupid. That was so fucking stupid. Jeno’s mind was barely functioning when those words slipped out of his mouth. 

But you didn’t take it into something. You were just surprised. Jeno’s in front of you. The sense of familiarity to the man in front of you is still there. His scent, presence, and the feelings you had for him. It’s all still there. 

And you don’t know why, but maybe you just wanted to see if he still loves you. 

Because instead of answering him, you grabbed him by the neck and smashed your lips onto his. 

But in a quick second, you realised that what you did was stupid. You broke out of the kiss, and yet your hand remains on his. 

Jeno’s gaze shifted from a surprised one to something more familiar. Lovingly. You knew that stare, you’ve always loved that stare of his. You know that because you’re the only one who he gave that gaze with. 

And the next thing you knew, his lips crashed onto yours. You couldn’t help but to kiss him back with more intensity. His arms instinctively hold your waist as you attempt to balance yourself. He pushes you backward, making you two enter your apartment without breaking the kiss.

[totalswag]

date night — RAFE CAMERON

authors note thank you so much for the love on my recent fic AND for almost 300 followers!!! it doesn’t matter if you guys leave a comment or not, seeing you guys interact by liking and rebloging makes me happy. i’ve seen a few writers write something like this concept before too.

requests are open

summary rafe takes you out every first friday of each month. this friday in particular, he takes you to one of your favorite restaurants in town then some ice cream for dessert.

warnings kissing, food, ice cream, and soft!rafe

You were finishing up your makeup then changed into your outfit for the night with your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron. You already curled your hair prior to doing your makeup because you rather get that over with first than makeup first.

The first Friday of every month, Rafe likes to take you out to dinner or anything else that comes to mind. Tonight however, he’s taking you to one of your favorite Italian restaurants. It's a fancy restaurant so you have to dress somewhat nice.

You don’t know where you found Rafe but you are glad that you have him because you don’t know what your life would be like without him in your life. He was the one who started this little tradition when you first started dating. At first you thought it was a one time thing but it began to happen more often.

I’ll pick you up at 8pm angel.

The time read seven thirty five which gives you sometime to get changed and walk downstairs to the front door. 

After getting changed, you headed downstairs where your family sat on the couch in the living room watching a movie. Your younger sister, who’s just turned four, gasps when she sees you enter the living room, and runs over to you.

“You look so pretty sissy” she giggles, putting both hands together, swinging them back and forth. 

You crouch down, “you are too sweet for this world” placing a soft kiss to her cheek.

She giggles, wrapping her arms around your neck, hugging you.

The sound of Rafe’s truck pulls up to your house. You tell your family and little sister goodbye and you’ll see them later whenever you get back.

Rafe stood by the passenger side of the car as you walked out the door and around the corner, holding a bouquet of flowers. Your body was filled with a warm sensation. That man never fails to make you smile.

“Everytime you give me flowers it makes me feel like its our first date all over again” you state while smiling. 

The smell of Rafe’s cologne fills your lungs. The scent he’s wearing is your favorite too.

You take the flowers from your boyfriend's hand, bringing them to your nose, they smell beautiful. You whisper thank you, stepping on your tippy toes to kiss his lips.

“Why do you always smell so good?” you groan, “makes me wanna do things to you” you add, wrapping your pointer finger around his gold chain. 

He chuckles, placing his hands at your lower back, pulling you closer, “mhm maybe you can do those things later tonight” smirking. 

“We better hurry up, we have reservations at eight thirty princess.”

This man makes me go insane.

He opens the door for you. He held your right hand while you lifted yourself into the truck. The truck is lifted, not too crazy.

You wait until Rafe is settled in the truck, then you start the engine and connect your phone to the bluetooth to play Lana Del Rey. 

One thing about you is that you love Lana Del Rey. You fell in love with her as soon as you heard her songs. You usually mention Rafe is written about Lana whenever you see him, which is all the time.

West Coast.

When the music begins to play, you both make eye contact. He gently rubs your left thigh with his right hand, sending goosebumps down your spine. You squeeze your palm on top of his while you sing along.

The number of people at the restaurant was outrageous. You were glad Rafe made reservations rather than just strolling in and waiting for an hour or however long it would take to be seated.

Rafe held onto your hand as you two walked to the front where the hostess was standing.

Italian music is playing all over the restaurant. The whole restaurant is made to look and feel like you are in Italy. A smile creeps up your face when you walk inside.

“Hello, I have a reservation for two under the name Rafe Cameron at eight thirty” he smiles to the young man behind the booth.

The young man nods then types in Rafe’s name.

“Right this way Cameron” he smiles, grabbing two menus, then leading you to your table.

Your waitress for the night comes to the table to introduce herself and asks if you two want anything to drink– you get two waters and wine to start off.

Rafe and you begin scanning the menu when you get seated. You go back and forth with each other about what sounds good. You end up going with pasta instead because the one you usually get fills you up.

“I might get the same thing but I'm still gonna look just in case I find something different” Rafe answers your question about what he’s thinking of eating.

In the meantime, Rafe and you were talking about Cameron Development and what it was like working for the family business.  Rafe has been working for his father for six months. It's been hard, but he's trying to build a life for himself and the two of you one day so you can have your own place one day. 

Thirty minutes later, your waitress brought Rafe’s and your food.

The minute you got your food your mouth was already drooling by the food sitting in front of you just waiting to be eaten.

You took your phone out of your purse and took a picture of the food and Rafe setting his wine glass down before picking up his fork. Rafe's toothy smile comes instantaneously as he hears the clicking sound from your phone. 

“You have to take a picture of everything, huh?” He jokes, shaking his head.

“If the pictures involve you in it, I’m definitely taking it” You reply, tilting your head to the side, winking.

After dinner, Rafe and you walked over to an ice cream shop. Where the restaurant is located, there’s a shopping center with food and desert.

The inside was filled with people ordering and sitting inside.

Whenever you get ice cream together, you always get mint chocolatechip in a cone and Rafe always gets lumberjack in a cup. There was enough sitting outside for the both of you. 

The night sky looked beautiful– stars filled the sky, the moon shining bright as always, the sound of crickets coming from every direction.

“Thank you for tonight baby, I love you so much!” Whispering in Rafe’s ear before kissing his lips softly. 

“Anything for my girl” he smiles down, wrapping his free hand around your lower waist, pulling you closer to his body.

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@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @brooklynscherry-z @kaydsr3venge @johannelis2302nely

[37sommz-archive]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | PROFILE.

Born in Gold Coast, Australia on December 23, 1999, Michaela Sommers was introduced to the world of motorsports from a early age. Her father, Tobias, and his younger brother, Travis Sommers, were avid Formula racing fans who idolized the likes of Senna, Schumacher, and Lauda. The motorsports bug skipped over Sommers' older sister, Samantha, before biting her at the mere age of six. By her ninth birthday, Michaela was competing in karting championships along the Australian east coast.

Despite her natural aptitude for racing, Michaela recalls facing discrimination for both her race and gender quite early on while karting. Despite the negativity that would swirl around her reputation, the young driver would win her first national championship at the age of twelve with plenty of rumors circling concerning her future in the sport. Sommers would attempt to enter her first international competition, but was barred from entry after her father lost his job in the summer of 2012.

Without much hope, Michaela would step back from racing for nearly six months before eventually deciding to join her uncle who had moved to England after his marriage just years prior. Travis then became Michaela's manager, working endlessly to ensure his niece would be able to continue climbing the karting ladder. Shortly after her move to England, her uncle would connect with Australian F1 driver Mark Webber who would travel to watch her race in a regional competition in 2013. Stunned by her potential, Webber helped the young girl to catch the attention of a racing team competing in the Ginetta Junior Championship alongside future McLaren teammate Lando Norris. Sommers' transition to racing cars would prove successful, securing a junior championship at just 14 years old.

Sommers would continue working through the ranks, receiving extensive media attention and comparisons to Lewis Hamilton as a teenager. Spending one year at the Formula 3 level, Michaela would race for British team Jagonya Ayam in 2015 finishing fifth in the championship and second in the rookie cup, both below Charles Leclerc. Her performance would catch the attention of Italian team Prema Racing who signed her to development for higher formulae alongside Pierre Gasly for the 2016 season.

Despite an average result, ending her rookie season in sixth place, Prema would resign the Australian who would be simultaneously be selected to join the Ferrari driver development program for the 2017 season. That same year, Sommers would wrap up her Formula 2 season in second place, once again behind Charles Leclerc.

Eventually, Michaela would finally secure a Formula 2 championship in 2018 while signing on as a reserve driver for Ferrari. Her official Formula One debut came after Sommers signed on to be Alfa Romeo's second-seat driver for the 2019 season, securing one-point in her debut race before finishing her rookie season in eighth place.

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE BASICS.

birth name: michaela jeanette sommers alias: mickey sommers date of birth: december 23, 1999 zodiac sign: capricorn hometown: gold coast, australia ethnicity: australian & xhosa nationality: australian, south african languages: english, italian weight: 121 lbs (55 kg) height: 5'7" (169 cm) dominant hand: left family: tobias sommers, miriam sommers, samantha sommers faceclaim: tinara westbrook

✹.⠀⠀،،⠀THE FORMULA CAREER.

01. GINETTA JUNIOR CHAMPIONSHIP (2014). ✼.⠀team: jhr developments ✼.⠀number: #72 ✼.⠀teammates: alex sedgwick, dan zelos, jamie chadwick, senna proctor ✼.⠀highest race finish: 1st (x7) ✼.⠀championship standing: 1st

02. FORMULA THREE (2015). ✼.⠀team: jagonya ayam ✼.⠀number: #54 ✼.⠀teammates: gustavo menezes, ryan tveter ✼.⠀highest race finish: 1st (x1) ✼.⠀championship standing: 5th

03. GP2 SERIES (2016). ✼.⠀team: prema racing ✼.⠀number: #20 ✼.⠀teammates: pierre gasly ✼.⠀highest race finish: 1st (x3) ✼.⠀championship standing: 6th

04. FORMULA TWO (2017). ✼.⠀team: prema racing ✼.⠀number: #2 ✼.⠀teammates: charles leclerc ✼.⠀highest race finish: 1st (x5) ✼.⠀championship standing: 2nd

05. FORMULA TWO (2018). ✼.⠀team: prema racing ✼.⠀number: #3 ✼.⠀teammates: nyck de vries ✼.⠀highest race finish: 1st (x7) ✼.⠀championship standing: 1st

06. FORMULA ONE (2019). ✼.⠀team: alfa romeo racing ✼.⠀number: #37 ✼.⠀teammates: kimi raikkonen ✼.⠀highest race finish: 4th (x1) ✼.⠀championship standing: 7th

07. FORMULA ONE (2020). ✼.⠀team: alfa romeo racing ✼.⠀number: #37 ✼.⠀teammates: kimi raikkonen ✼.⠀highest race finish: 3rd (x2) ✼.⠀championship standing: 7th

08. FORMULA ONE (2021). ✼.⠀team: mclaren ✼.⠀number: #37 ✼.⠀teammates: lando norris ✼.⠀highest race finish: 1st (x1) ✼.⠀championship standing: 4th

09. FORMULA ONE (2022). ✼.⠀team: mclaren ✼.⠀number: #37 ✼.⠀teammates: lando norris ✼.⠀highest race finish: 1st (x2) ✼.⠀championship standing: 4th

10. FORMULA ONE (2023). ✼.⠀team: aston martin ✼.⠀number: #37 ✼.⠀teammates: fernando alonso ✼.⠀highest race finish: 2nd (x7) ✼.⠀championship standing: 3rd

✼. view:⠀navigation page⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

[jeridandridge]

I Want Something Bad

This wound needs more salt! College Years installment from anon request 🤍

This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. The alarm clock on your nightstand ticks away, the moonlight coming through the floor to ceiling window of your bedroom makes you sigh. Melissa was flying in tomorrow afternoon and for some reason you felt sick. Maybe because the last time you saw her it felt like a goodbye. Maybe because six months ago she was married and you were out of the country, unable to face those fears and desires you had regarding the woman.

Tossing and turning you shift to face your nightstand, hand resting on your pillow as you eye the silver picture frame that sits on the dark wood. Melissa had clung to you during graduation that day. Sat together in the chairs your heart jumped into your throat when her fingers laced with yours, eyes forward on the stage of the auditorium. Outside in the sun she wrapped her arms around your waist squeezing you so tightly you were sure you’d be bruised. Six hours later you were driving away in the dark headed back to your childhood home, tears in your eyes and your hands shaking on the wheel at the thought of her going off and marrying someone else. You still wanted her even now.

Morning comes sooner than you’d like it to. The warmth from the morning sun through the window warms you, hoping it was a good omen for the rest of the day. After a shower and a cup of coffee, you feel almost normal again as you get in the car for the Portland airport. During the drive your mind wanders, would Melissa be different now? You hadn’t seen her in almost a year, she was married and set to start teaching with a full life in Philly.

Getting closer to the pick up terminal you can’t help but smile when you see the redhead walking towards the car, sun glasses on and a Philly sweatshirt as always. Pulling into the line you put the car in park, hardly able to get out before Melissa is in front of you wrapping her arms around your neck. The smell of lavender hits your nose and her ring clad fingers bury themselves in your hair.

“Well hi,” you chuckle almost nervously, hands resting on her back.

“Hi yourself, big shot.” The redhead chuckles squeezing you tightly.

Letting go of your best friend you smile when she lifts her sunglasses, finally able to see those gorgeous eyes.

“I’m an intern not a big shot.” You chuckle putting her suitcase in the trunk closing it with a thud. “You ready to see what Portland has to offer?” You grin.

“Let’s get goin, hon.”

Settled in the car Melissa smiles at you, her hand reaching for yours where it rests on the center console. Eyes flicking down from the road you move your hand to reach for the radio,turning it up a bit to drown out the thought of that gold band and the man you despise. You felt as if it would burn if it touched your skin. “I’m happy you’re here finally. You ready to start work next month?”

Eyes on the road you miss the hurt in her eyes as she brings her hand back to her own lap. “I am, Kristin Marie even gave me a mug for my desk.” She chuckles.

“Aw, the wicked witch has a heart.” You tease. The thought of you being on opposite coasts hurt, but now you could throw yourself into your work opting to climb the social ladder at your current art gallery. Even if it was an internship you planned on running elbows with as many higher ups as you could.

The first afternoon and evening with Melissa goes well enough, you take her to your favorite coffee shop and bookstore knowing she’d enjoy the cozy atmosphere. Throughout the day you couldn’t help but dodge every touch she attempted to make on your arm or lower back, so much so that you almost dropped your coffee when her fingers brushed your elbow to rest her hand in the crook of your arm on the walk back to the car. You wanted her, you wanted her bad and you knew you could never have her.

You’ll just have to sit in it for this week.

“Hon, you better let me cook for you while I’m here.” Melissa breaks the comfortable silence as you two stand in the elevator going up to your apartment.

“I can’t turn down a Schemmenti meal.” You chuckle unlocking the door. “I stocked up on groceries last night.”

Inside Melissa goes through the fridge and cabinets pulling out everything she might need for a nice meal. It felt… nice, normal even after so much time spent having awkward phone calls two time zones apart to be moving around the kitchen together. As you wash the vegetables while the redhead prepares sauce, you glance up with a smile.

“So, have you managed to teach Joe how to cook anything yet?”

Melissa scoffs shaking her head. “No, he’s either at work or he comes home and sleeps.”

Turning back to the task at hand you hide your eye roll looking down at the cutting board. Typical. This was the man that threw a fit when he lost at beer pong for crying out loud. Of course he wouldn’t help his wife cook.

Melissa continues to stir, eyes landing on your back boring into your soul.

“I’m surprised you brought him up.”

Glancing over your shoulder you meet jade eyes. Composing yourself you shrug. “He’s your husband, I do know the guy.” You chuckle.

It’s quiet for a moment, the sound of the blade landing on the cutting board with each chop makes your palms start to sweat.

“You don’t like him.” Melissa states plainly, no malice in her voice as she keeps her eyes on the stove.

Biting your cheek you take a breath before lifting your head. “Hey,” you get her attention meeting her eyes with the best smile you can muster. “I’m happy for you, Red. I really am.”

It made you want to vomit saying those words but if it made her happy that’s all you care about. Jade eyes crinkle at the corner just as they always did, and that was the end of that.

Through dinner and the rest of the night you find yourself relaxed with your oldest friend. The tension that had been there is gone, even enough for Melissa to curl up into your side on the couch. Her right hand rests on your Jean clad thigh as you mindlessly watch a sitcom on tv, making comments here and there about the show. You wanted this all the time. You wanted to come home and make dinner with Melissa sod badly. To cuddle up with her on the couch after a long day so badly.

You’re brought out of your love drunken haze when the phone rings on the table behind the couch.

“You gonna get that, hon?”

“No, let it ring.” You hum not caring enough to answer the phone at ten o’clock on a Friday night.

The machine clicks, and a smooth female voice comes out. “Hi, sweetheart! I guess I missed you. I was calling to see if we’re still on for drinks Tuesday night. Give me a call soon, bye!”

As soon as you hear Lena’s voice coming through the speaker you feel Melissa stiffen against your side.

“Well she sounds like fun.” Melissa chuckles with a tight smile.

Keeping your eyes on the tv you shrug. “She’s a curator for the gallery, I’ve been seeing her for a couple weeks.”

“You didn’t tell me?” Melissa pulls back looking at you. “Cmon, hon. What she like?” She asks with a quirked brow.

You’d seen this look before many times all throughout college, she puts a smirk on but the excitement doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Well…” you start off in another cycle you’re sure will continue for as long as you know the redhead.

[37sommz]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | PROFILE.

001.⠀⠀THE BIOGRAPHY⠀!⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

BIRTH NAME: michaela jeanette sommers NICKNAMES: mitch, mickey DOB: dec. 23, 1999 HOMETOWN: gold coast, australia ETHNICITY: australian & xhosa NATIONALITY: australian LANGUAGES: english & italian HEIGHT: 176 cm WEIGHT: 55 kg DOMINANT HAND: left FAMILY: mother, father, older sister

Born in Gold Coast, Australia on December 23, 1999, Michaela Sommers was introduced to the world of motorsports from an early age. Her father, Tobias, and his brother, Travis, were avid Formula racing fans who idolized the likes of Senna, Schumacher, and Lauda. The motorsports bug skipped over Sommers' older sister, Courtney, before biting her at the mere age of six. By her ninth birthday, Michaela was competing in karting championships along the Australian east coast.

Despite her natural aptitude for racing, Michaela recalls facing discrimination for both her race and gender quite early on while karting, even going as far as entering under a male name to avoid arbitrary sponsorship barriers. Despite the negativity that would swirl around her reputation, the young driver would win her first national championship at the age of twelve with plenty of rumors circling concerning her future in the sport. Sommers would attempt to enter her first international competition but was forced to pull out after her father lost his job in the summer of 2012.

Without much hope, Michaela would step back from racing for nearly six months before eventually deciding to join her uncle who had moved to England after his marriage just years prior. Travis then became Michaela's manager, working endlessly to ensure his niece would be able to continue climbing the karting ladder. Shortly after her move to England, her uncle would connect with Australian F1 driver Mark Webber who would travel to watch her race in a regional competition in 2013. Stunned by her potential, Webber helped the young girl to catch the attention of a racing team competing in the Ginetta Junior Championship alongside future McLaren teammate Lando Norris. Sommers' transition to racing cars would prove successful, securing a junior championship at just 14 years old.

Sommers would continue working through the ranks, receiving extensive media attention and comparisons to Lewis Hamilton as a teenager. Spending one year at the Formula 3 level, Michaela would race for British team Jagonya Ayam in 2015 finishing fifth in the championship and second in the rookie cup, both below Charles Leclerc. Her performance would catch the attention of Italian team Prema Racing who signed her to development for higher formulae alongside Pierre Gasly for the 2016 season.

Despite an average result, ending her rookie season in sixth place, Prema would resign the Australian who would be simultaneously be selected to join the Ferrari driver development program for the 2017 season. That same year, Sommers would wrap up her Formula 2 season in second place, once again behind Charles Leclerc.

Eventually, Michaela would finally secure a Formula 2 championship in 2018 while signing on as a reserve driver for Ferrari. Her official Formula One debut came after Sommers signed on to be Alfa Romeo's second-seat driver for the 2019 season, securing two points in her debut race before finishing her rookie season in eighth place.

002.⠀⠀THE STATISTICS⠀!⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

FORMULA ONE (2019) alfa romeo racing, #37 ✼.⠀raikonnen & sommers ✼.⠀highest finish: 4th (x1) ✼.⠀championship standing: 8th ✼.⠀95 points

FORMULA ONE (2020) alfa romeo racing orlen, #37 ✼.⠀raikonnen & sommers ✼.⠀highest finish: 3rd (x3) ✼.⠀championship standing: 7th ✼.⠀105 points

FORMULA ONE (2021) mclaren f1 team, #37 ✼.⠀norris & sommers ✼.⠀highest finish: 1st (x2) ✼.⠀championship standing: 4th ✼.⠀223 points

FORMULA ONE (2022) mclaren f1 team, #37 ✼.⠀norris & sommers ✼.⠀highest finish: 1st (x2) ✼.⠀championship standing: 4th ✼.⠀293 points

FORMULA ONE (2023) aston martin aramco cognizant f1 team, #37 ✼.⠀alonso & sommers ✼.⠀highest finish: 1st (x2) ✼.⠀championship standing: 3rd ✼.⠀284 points

FORMULA ONE (2024) aston martin aramco f1 team, #37 ✼.⠀alonso & sommers ✼.⠀highest finish: 1st (x2) ✼.⠀championship standing: 3rd ✼.⠀188 points

✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

[jaidens]

He Got That Boyish Look That I Like In A Man

pairing [s] : daniel larusso x reader

warning [s] : nothing! | this really sucks 😭 I just wanted to release something cuz I've been lacking on yall

a/n [s] : requests are open! [ALSO! should I challenge things? like flufftober??]

Whenever your job offers you a raise to become an Automotive Director of Engineering for the dealership in Reseda, California you take it without warning. In an attempt to get away from slushy winters in the small state of Connecticut, you moved swiftly to a small apartment with lovely neighbors and a new life. You had been to California on some vacations with family, but living here had never crossed your mind.

You walk into your office that smells like fresh paint and cleaner, and set your books and purse down on the dark-oak table. The company had hired some individuals to work for you, which felt weird to say, as you used to be the same person. Your assistant walks in with a tap on your glass door, and she walks in. “Hey! I’m Shannon. Anything you need, I'll be across the hall. I've already started on the connections with Toyota and Nissan!”

You smile at her and shake her hand that she was holding out for you. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Y/N L/N, but I assume you already know that!” You laugh and let go of her hand to hide any awkwardness and anxiety you had about being in such a high position.

“Okay well, I'll see you! And, someone has already set up a meeting with you!” Shannon says before walking away and shutting the door behind her.

You rub sweaty hands against your clothes and turn on your heels. The air-conditioning rumbles on and you wrap the small cardigan you had brought around you and begin staring at the paperwork that was placed in front of you. You start the work: scribbling works and many, many signatures with red pens and black pens. A knock is gentle against your door and you look up, and see Shannon and a very recognizable man standing there in a Navy suit and a smile on his face.

“This is Mr. Daniel Larusso. He owns Larusso auto parts and he said he wants to speak with you,” Shannon says, pushing her glasses up her nose and walking away.

The name sends a shiver down your spine as you hear it, and the face is suddenly very recognizable. The fateful summer vacation of 1986, fifteen-years old and young, and a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

You're sitting on the bench near the beach in a swimsuit and a big t-shirt, peeling through the boom. you had brought to your family vacation. Your family is on the beach setting up the tent and towels all across it to mark the place on the beach. The warm sun heats your skin up as you lay against the bench and continue flipping through your book that suddenly becomes boring.

A tan boy emerges from the water in orange trunks and black hair slicked back with salt water. An older and shorter man follows him up the coast and talks to him. You stare at him with your eyes following each of the tan’s movements. He notices your staring as he stares right back at you, eyes piercing into yours deliciously. His smile exposes his teeth and he knocks his head to the side and waves at you. The older man slaps the side of his head and scolds him.

You laugh at him before he tells the older man something then jogs over to you. His warm skin is a bronzy, and you swear there were twinkles of gold mixed in his skin shining against the light. “Hey, I’m Daniel. What are you reading?” The New Jersey accent rings out and you can't help but feel warmer.

“Oh some dumb romance. My name is Y/N, it's nice to meet you Daniel. Is that your Grandfather?” You cover your book up subconsciously to attempt to not get embarrassed, and point at the older man who seems weirdly angry next to the old car from the 40s.

Daniel shakes his head in response. “No, no. That’s Mr. Miyagi, he's my karate sensei. Is your book good?” He asks and you nod at his explanation, showing him you agreed.

“Yeah, my book is pretty good. You like karate? That's pretty awesome.” You tell Daniel and stare into his eyes. They're a soft, dark brown with a puppy-look inside of them. He looks your age, as he gets thrown a West Valley High soccer shirt that's bigger than him as he shrugs it on over his shoulders.

Daniel leaves with the older man after inviting you to the beach for a party held by the Football team and Cheer Team. You showed up in a baggy sweater and a pair of shorts. Daniel waved at you whenever he saw you, as he kicks around a soccer ball impressively on his two legs. You walk over to him and he laughs and kicks the ball over to you, and you catch it and throw it back to him with a shared laugh with him.

He sits down in the sand and you scoot closer to him. You're handed some hotdogs and sticks to cook over the fires made on the beach. You start one and hold a conversation about where you're from, why you were visiting, etc. The conversation was long, and filled with laughter and glances held longer than usual. Daniel handed you a drink and you declined, and he didn't drink as well.

You and Daniel just talk; it feels quite amazing. You haven't had a conversation like that in a long time, but everything falls out and you let your hand fall into his as you star-gaze further away from everyone else who was drunk and half-a drink away from throwing up on the beach. You almost find yourself staring at him more than the stars, admiring him underneath the full moon and stars. He looks beautiful both times: morning and night.

How are you supposed to leave Reseda and not think about Daniel when you leave back to Connecticut?

“I’m Y/N L/N, nice to see you again.”

[falloutboylyricss]

Fall Out Boy and Heart

Evening Out With Your Girlfriend

none

Take This to Your Grave

"Breaking hearts has never looked so cool as when you wrap your car around a tree" - Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today

"My heart is on my sleeve, wear it like a bruise or black eye" - Chicago Is So Two Years Ago

"My heart ticks in beat with these kids that I grew up with" - Grenade Jumper

From Under The Cork Tree

"I'm two quarters and a heart down, and I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds" - Dance, Dance

"Drop a heart, break a name" - Sugar, We're Goin' Down

"And my back has been breaking from this heavy heart" - I've Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Song)

"We're the chemists who've found the formula to make your heart swell and burst" - Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year

"Ashamed of the way the songs and the words own the beating of our hearts" - Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year

"I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends" - I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me

"I'm falling apart to songs about hips and hearts" - Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows)

"This story's getting old, the homewrecker with the heart of gold" - Snitches And Talkers Get Stitches And Walkers

"Because they've got me in a bad way, I've never seen a heart I couldn't break" - The Music Or The Misery

My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon (title only)

"'Cause I know that you're in-between arms somewhere next to heartbeats where you shouldn't dare sleep" - My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Infinity On High

"Long live the car crash hearts" - Thriller

"Crowds are won and lost and won again, but our hearts beat for the diehards" - Thriller

"The best way to make it through with hearts and wrists intact is to realize two out of three ain't bad" - I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)

"Can't commit to a thing, be it heart or hospital" - Bang The Doldrums

"To his closing argument, twelve hearts beat in favor" - You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

"Cross my heart and hope to die, splintered from the headboard in my eye" - G.I.N.A.S.F.S.

Folie à Deux

"Pull a breath like another cigarette, pawn shop heart, trading up" - I Don't Care

"Let's hear it for America's suitehearts, but I must confess" - America's Suitehearts

"If home is where the heart is, then we're all just fucked" - 27

"A long walk to a dark house, a Roman candle heart, keep us far apart" - Tiffany Blews

"I can make your heart slow, I can feel the weather in my bones" - Tiffany Blews

"Knowing how heartwarming it is inside your skin" - w.a.m.s.

"The P.A. system keeps my heart, heart beating tonight" - West Coast Smoker

"Got my degree in the gutter, my heart broken in the dorms of the Ivy League" - West Coast Smoker

Save Rock And Roll

"Cross walks and crossed hearts and hope to dies" - The Phoenix

"So we can take the world back from the heart-attacked" - The Phoenix

"You know, time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start, so dance alone to the beat of your heart" - The Phoenix

"My heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broke in" - Alone Together

"I'm here to collect your hearts, it's the only reason that I sing" - Where Did The Party Go

"I don't have the right name or the right looks, but I have twice the heart" - Just One Yesterday

"Cue all the love to leave my heart, it's time for me to fall apart" - Miss Missing You

"Making eyes at this husk around my heart" - Miss Missing You

"If my heart is a grenade, you pull the pin and say" - Rat A Tat

"I'm about to make your sweat roll backwards and your heart beat in reverse" - Rat A Tat

"But I'll take your heart served up two ways" - Rat A Tat

PAX AM Days

"Welcome to the demolition derby that is my heart" - Love, Sex, Death

American Beauty/American Psycho

"Heavy metal broke my heart" - Centuries

MANIA

none

So Much (For) Stardust

"We'll cry later or cry now, you know it's heartbreak" - Heartbreak Feels So Good

"We'll cry later or cry now but baby, heartbreak feels so good" - Heartbreak Feels So Good

"And if you put your, put your heart in it, heart in it, then we'll do more than just get by together" - Hold Me Like a Grudge

"I got love in my heart, so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey" - So Good Right Now

"It breaks your heart, but four of the Ramones are dead" - The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years)

Misc.

none

[littleeyesofpallas]

So there is a certain character type that I cannot for the life of me pin down a word for... It's yakuza adjacent, but often not explicitly part of the actual gangs. a kind of shady businessman, but not the overly clean and corporate type. sort of a scammer or a conartist or grifter, but not as small time as that sort of makes it sound? I want to say it's a look associated with loan sharks, but I can't quite substantiate that.... I swear it's a thing you see in the context of Japanese crime fiction all the time, especially set in the 80s or 90s, yet I can't really point to any characters that really fit the bill off the top of my head, as they're almost always background characters. Somehow the only one I can think to pinpoint is that one random villain-of-the-week in Kill la Kill?

The persona itself actually has a shocking amount in common with, like, the classic American used car dealer, especially on the east coast either around the New York/New Jersey tristate or down in like Miami, usually with a hefty bit of Italian or Jewish racism mixed in... The style though, the gold chains, the tacky superficial try-hard glitz and the pushy rough around the edges attitude, very self-made and informally educated businessman, surprisingly successful but still not really a "big" success, and just like this Japanese counterpart I'm thinking of, almost always technically in business with local organized crime without ever being "part of the family."

Like it's such a cliche that it's literally cartoonish, and it's funny how almost perfectly beat for beat the US and Japanese counterparts mirror eachother, except that the Japanese character type, as far as I can recall, isn't associated with used car dealerships,

anyway point is... That's what Marechiyo and his dad are supposed to look like. That and a bit of yakuza/delinquent in the case of his dad when he was younger. Notably his dad straight up has a punch perm in the present day, which was The quintessential yakuza look in the 80s. And his younger version seems to also have a perm but also a regent style pompadour that's a little more youthful delinquent aligned than outright criminal, and again a look that has become so cliche as to become cartoonish to the point of being a costume you can buy in a store.

Although whatever the hell Marechiyo has going on in the new hell arc, i cannot identify.

But it's interesting that it's a different kind of yakuza look than what Iba has going on. His dark shades, the tight perm, the laborer's bellywarmer, his zanpakutou being a tanto sticking out of it, the overall posture with the one shoulder out of his kimono, even that his sword is alternatively either a Yakuza style tanto tucked into a chest wrap, or a seemingly normal katana but without a crossguard is to evoke the classic yakuza image of using a shirasaya --a plain white wood sheathe with matching handle and no crossguard or wrap-- rather than a more traditional katana. And of course his dog-like loyalty to Komamura are all iconic stoic Yakuza romanticism. The hardboiled, honor-bound, manly-man ideal of the folklore-like reputation of the yakuza. The thing you'd see in countless old movies or pulp thriller style seinen manga, sometimes even published by yakuza family magazines themselves.

His mother also plays into this, even in her barely existent appearance in the MASKED databook, as she's a pretty distinct play into a very particular matronly character type, generally typifying either a proprietress of a traditional inn, a powerful samurai family matron, or a yakuza boss's wife --all kind of loosely overlapping and all drawing from traditional roles of a head of manor or estate.

I dunno where i was going with any of this. But between these character types and Kensei's biker gang thing, I think it's funny how much of Soul Society's classically japanese vibe is just organized crime. Even the general population of unnamed background shinigami lean into a very modern thuggish aesthetic

Also i don't know what to make of the idea that the Shihouin have endorsed the Omaeda family like this over the years, especially when they're role among the royale houses seems to be to safeguard various treasures and relics. Between that and apparently being at least two generations of heads of a division of the secret police, it's hard to imagine the Omaeda were just independently wealthy unrelated to all that.

[signagemates1]

The Importance of Quality Signage for Businesses in Brisbane and the Gold Coast

In today’s competitive market, effective signage is crucial for any business, whether you're located in the bustling streets of Brisbane or the vibrant Gold Coast. Quality signage not only enhances your brand visibility but also communicates essential information to your customers. In this blog, we’ll explore the various types of signage, the importance of investing in high-quality materials, and how businesses in Brisbane and the Gold Coast can leverage signage to stand out.

Understanding Signage

Signage encompasses a wide range of visual graphics used to convey information to an audience. This includes everything from storefront signs and banners to digital displays and wayfinding signs. Here are some common types of signage:

Outdoor Signage: Essential for attracting foot traffic, outdoor signs should be bold, clear, and visually appealing. They often include channel letters, illuminated signs, and banners.

Indoor Signage: Once customers are inside your business, indoor signage plays a key role in guiding them and enhancing their experience. This can include directional signs, menu boards, and promotional displays.

Digital Signage: In the age of technology, digital signage is becoming increasingly popular. These dynamic displays can showcase promotions, advertisements, and important updates in real-time.

Vehicle Signage: Wrapping your vehicle with your business branding is an effective way to advertise on the go. Vehicle signage can turn your car into a mobile billboard, reaching potential customers wherever you go.

Promotional Signage: Temporary signs, such as banners or A-frames, are great for sales events or promotions. They can quickly grab attention and drive traffic to your business.

The Benefits of Quality Signage

1. Brand Visibility and Recognition

Quality signage is vital for establishing your brand’s identity. A well-designed sign communicates professionalism and builds trust with potential customers. In busy areas like Brisbane and the Gold Coast, eye-catching signage can differentiate your business from competitors, making it memorable in the minds of consumers.

2. Increased Foot Traffic

Effective signage acts as a silent salesperson, attracting customers to your location. In high-traffic areas, strategic placement of signs can significantly increase foot traffic. Whether it’s a beautifully lit storefront sign or an engaging promotional banner, the right signage can entice passersby to stop and explore what you have to offer.

3. Information and Direction

Signage serves an important informational purpose. It guides customers to your business and helps them navigate your premises once they arrive. Clear directional signs and informative displays reduce confusion and enhance the customer experience, leading to increased satisfaction and repeat visits.

4. Cost-Effective Marketing

Compared to other forms of advertising, signage is a cost-effective marketing solution. Once your signage is up, it continues to promote your business 24/7 without ongoing costs. Digital signage can further enhance this by allowing for quick updates and promotional changes without the need for new materials.

5. Local SEO Benefits

In an era where local search optimization is crucial, having visible and well-placed signage can enhance your online presence. Google considers physical location when ranking local businesses. A recognizable sign can lead to increased foot traffic, which, in turn, can improve your online reviews and search rankings.

Choosing the Right Signage for Your Business

When selecting signage, consider the following factors to ensure it meets your business needs:

1. Target Audience

Understand who your customers are and what type of signage will attract their attention. For instance, if your business caters to tourists on the Gold Coast, colorful, vibrant signage may be more effective than more subdued tones.

2. Location and Visibility

Evaluate where your signage will be placed. High-traffic areas require larger, bolder signs that can be easily read from a distance. Conversely, indoor signage can be more detailed, providing customers with essential information without overwhelming them.

3. Materials and Durability

Invest in high-quality materials that can withstand the elements, especially for outdoor signage. Signs made from durable materials like acrylic, aluminum, or vinyl will not only look better but also last longer, reducing replacement costs over time.

4. Design and Branding

Your signage should align with your overall branding strategy. Use consistent colors, fonts, and logos to create a cohesive brand identity. Engaging graphics and clear messaging will help communicate your business’s purpose effectively.

5. Compliance with Regulations

Ensure your signage complies with local regulations and zoning laws in Brisbane and the Gold Coast. This includes size restrictions, placement, and lighting requirements to avoid any legal issues that could arise.

The Future of Signage

As technology advances, signage continues to evolve. Digital signage is becoming increasingly popular, offering dynamic content that can be updated in real-time. Businesses can showcase promotions, events, and social media feeds, creating a more engaging experience for customers.

Moreover, incorporating interactive elements, such as QR codes or touchscreens, can further enhance customer engagement. This technology allows customers to learn more about your products or services while they’re on-site, providing a richer, more informative experience.

Conclusion

In conclusion, quality signage is an indispensable asset for businesses Signage in Brisbane and the Gold Coast. It enhances brand visibility, attracts customers, provides essential information, and serves as a cost-effective marketing tool. By understanding your audience, selecting the right materials, and designing effective signage, you can create a powerful first impression that drives success.

Investing in quality signage is not just an expense; it’s an investment in your brand’s future. Whether you’re a new business just starting out or an established company looking to refresh your image, make signage a priority in your marketing strategy. With the right approach, your signage can become one of your most valuable business assets.

[figthefruitfaeth]

written on a lonely, friendless day. nancy wheeler x-files au character study taken from s3ep15. angst ahead.

-

It’s raining when Nancy wakes up. It pitter-patters weakly against the window, barely heard under the creak of the waterlogged floorboards as she dresses.

White blouse, dark blazer, clean cut and sharp. Snappy sensible heels and curls teased high and delicate. Thin gold chain around her neck. The clasp is loose, by age, by damage—snipping at the hair on her neck, digging into sweaters and leaving holes. Barb’s. Before.

It’s raining as she pays for her coffee, as it slips down her throat and a hiss of pain whistles past her teeth. More than a drizzle, less than a storm. It doesn’t beat against her skin, doesn’t leave her soaked. It sinks into her hair, catches the heel of her sock. They’ll be frizzy and wooden respectively by lunch.

The train is quiet. Her car is only half full, other sleepy commuters unrestful in their seats. She can’t hear it this deep underground, can’t hear it over the rush of wind and grinding of steel as they all hurtle deep into the dark. All, but not together.

She can’t hear it, but she feels it. Hot, humid. The warm wet squelch of her shoe against the linoleum floor, the uneven drip down the line of her back, a pinprick of cold sinking into her skin just as quickly as it appeared. The car and its sleepy passengers all drying at once, all trying to shed water and only getting halfway. A compromise of liquidity, of body and temperature.

It’s not like home. Summers hot and clawing, winters that bite and draw blood. Virginia—DC—it’s mild. Rain which falls but does not thunder, heatwaves and snow days which creep in and pass quickly. The Goldilocks zone. That’s what she’d said, voice low over the phone, a false cheer Nancy could feel wrapped in the tangled cord even a thousand miles away. It’s supposed to be a relief. A compromise.

The office is a nagging buzz, no breaking case or celebration, just a few people milling around chatting. This might be the usual for them, she doesn’t know, doesn’t care. It’s not her department, not her floor. The only reason she’s up here is for the coffee maker. They’ve got their own, down in the basement. Old, paint chipping off at the bottom. But Robin’s been out sick since yesterday, and it doesn’t work for anybody but Robin. Not really theirs at all.

Her second coffee drips, drips into the mug. Pitters against the ceramic blue base, stains the beige countertop in dark liquid. Sputters and spits mostly tap water.

“Agent Wheeler.”

She turns around.

Owens. Standing in the doorway, one hand at his hip, the other in a pantomime of a knock. It’s a strange little thing, a tired whisper of a joke played when you don’t know someone very well or when you’re trying to keep twitchy fingers occupied.

Owens knows Nancy very well.

“Can I see you in my office?”

It’s not a question or a request, even though it tilts like one at the end. Not a demand either, despite her lack of choice in the matter. A lukewarm duty.

She nods, grabs her coffee. Freshly brewed, but barely hot enough to warm her stiff fingers. Tastes like dirt, like rain. Choking on mud.

Her heels don’t clack along the hallway, a sharp echo announcing where she’s going. Instead, they’re muffled, mixed in with the whirring of a nearby printer, lost to the jangle of Owens’ keys, and then altogether silenced in the carpet of his office.

He offers her a seat, which she doesn’t take. She’s never taken a seat in here and he knows that.

“Alright, straight to it then. A memo came across my desk last night. Thought I should call, but I figured, better to hear it in person.”

“Is this about the ship?”

Their most recent case. A salvage vessel off the coast of San Diego with big claims of dragging up a UFO and no explanation for the crew littered in radiation burns. A case, whether extraterrestrial or not, Nancy could sink her teeth into.

“No, no,” Owens shakes his head, shifts his weight to the right.

Nancy squints. He’s dragging this out, taking his time with an uncomfortable truth instead of just telling her. A misplaced care for her feelings turning whatever bad news he has for her into a pity performance.

He runs a hand through his hair, tries to lean against his desk which Nancy can tell is further away than he expected—stumbling half a step before he hits wood.

She doesn’t have time for this.

A tight smile, “I’ve got my hands full today, Owens. So if you just wanted to talk about last night’s game, then—“

“It’s about you. And, Barb.”

Barb.

A drop hits the top notch of her spine, slithers down a few inches, bleeds into her blouse.

He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at her. Looks, like it’s the last time he’ll see her. Looks, like she’s already gone and buried.

Barb.

Sudden and violent is the urge to slap him, to feel the sting of the terrible secret he’s got red against her palm. Needs him to yell, to scream, to do anything but try and coddle her. To look at her like she’s breakable. Like she’s already broken.

But her throat won’t work, tongue heavy behind teeth that won’t open. Her hands won’t move, won’t pry free from their place on her mug. Indiana State University. Barb’s blue mug.

“It’s been five months and neither the DC police team or the Bureau have found any new leads or evidence for her murder. I’ve been told—I’ve been told the case is to remain inactive until further notice.”

Inactive until further notice. A polite way to say over. A bullshit, sugar coated way to say it’s another cold case file shoved into a cabinet left to rot.

Nancy wants to laugh, wonders what would happen if the little bubbling tendril inside escaped. Would it come out right? If she could speak, tongue pushing speech past the bite of her mouth, would it sound human? Would it even make any noise at all?

She takes a sip of her coffee. It’s not hot, and the day is too warm, too wet to have it go cold just yet. When she sips, there’s no sensation, no punishment in either direction. It’s just an action, just a movement without meaning. The grit of mud between the grind of her teeth for nothing.

Her hands are trembling, she realizes, ring clinking against her cup just enough to drown out the rain tapping against the office windows.

Barb.

He sighs, scrubs at his face.

“I don’t like it either, Nancy, but I don’t think there’s anything behind this. With all the other shit this department is handling—badly, I might add—I think it’s simply just a case of not enough people for the job.”

Nancy blinks.

Nothing behind this.

As if Nancy’s placement in the X-Files wasn’t just a thinly veiled excuse to spy on Robin. As if she didn’t start getting turned away from resources and contacts because she wouldn’t outright call Robin a crackpot. As if case after case of concrete evidence of a government conspiracy going up in smoke was just coincidence.

Nothing behind this.

A fucking platitude, that’s what Owens is selling her. Does he think she needs this? That she’d be happy with half assed excuses and empty promises? That she needs her hand held? They’ve worked together for two years and somehow, she finds he doesn’t know her at all.

He’s saying something else, talking about going to Brenner’s office and talking some sense into him, getting the case back open, but she can’t hear him, not really. The world zeros down to the sharp clink against her mug, vibrating in her hands. Zeroes down to her borrowed necklace tight on her throat and dripping hair and the white hot, blind rage curling in her gut.

Barb, Barb, Barb.

“Nancy—”

She stops, half out the door unaware she’d ever started moving. Her coffee is half empty, and she’s not sure whether it’s splashed across his carpet or lying in the pit of her stomach.

“Right. Because that makes sense.”

Her voice works. Quieter than she wants. Softer than she feels.

“It makes total sense, that a man can blow up a building halfway across the country and we can still pull enough evidence to put him away for life. Right? That makes sense to you. But in the case of a woman, my—”

Friend. Pinkie promises in twin sized beds, lingering glances on double dates, and phone calls with more said in the static of a bad connection than ever in person. Nothing behind this.

“Barb. Barb, murdered in cold blood in a well-lit, reputable hotel with multiple, reliable witnesses and fingerprints clearer than the ones you get at the fucking bureau. All that, but we can’t even put together enough to keep anybody interested. That tracks, right?”

He sighs, “I don’t think this has anything to do with interest.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” This time she does laugh, and it’s human, and unlike anything inside herself.

“You can’t believe that, I know you don’t. Tell me you don’t.”

Tell me you haven’t left us here to rot. Tell me you have and let me crawl my way out.

Owens holds her gaze, then looks away.

That’s her answer, isn’t it? Right.

“This has everything to do with interest. Just not yours, and not mine.”

Her heels are silent against the hallway, as is the swing of the women’s restroom door, and the lock latching into place.

She slams the mug against the sink, rips the necklace from her throat and watches it clatter against porcelain.

Compromise.

The last five months spent either on a case or on her case, scrounging data reports and paper trails and eyewitness accounts. Bed and fridge empty as she spent every night calling contact after contact, dead end after dead end.

Nothing behind this.

The case that could’ve meant the end of the X-Files or the end of Them—but didn’t. Where nobody died and nothing changed for anyone of consequence.

Barb.

Her first visit to the city since the sticky, wet summer after training. The phone call Nancy had made, telling her, I want to see you. And the phone call when she finally landed, Stay. Stay in the hotel room and order room service by herself while she tried to save the X-Files, while she tried to save Robin.

Stay. And then she hung up, rushed out the door by the whirlwind nature of it all. Line gone cold, last word hanging in the static.

Nancy is never going to know what Barb might’ve said.

She lets the curling, festering thing in her gut grow, lets it eat at her, lets her body bite and bleed itself dry and full, wet and hungry until all that’s left is rage. Hot and fast, water evaporating from her body and finding nowhere to escape, clinging to the lining of her jacket, the creases of her palms. Her mouth opens, parting for a blood curdling scream, a cry of injustice and retribution, for something, for fucking anything—

Nothing comes out.

On the sink, the mug stares at her, blue and unscratched. The chain lies stuck in mud.

It’s raining. A weak pitter against the vents. It’s raining as Nancy hunches over a bathroom sink, and weeps.

[provinyl09]

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[lswraps]

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[youaintnothinbuta]

Can you do Austin x reader where the reader is an Australian girl he met during the filming of Elvis on the Gold Coast, and for the first time ever, she is explaining Aussie slang to him, I think he would think some of the stuff us aussies say would be hilarious.

I ABSOLUTELY CAN pls I think I should do more Austin x aussie reader content!! I think he’d find our “culture” bewildering. Imagine the look on his face when showing him fairy bread or explaining schoolies to him. Or watching footy on the telly, I feel like he’d be so concerned 😭

“Sorry, what?”

Summary: see request.

Pairing: Austin x Aussie!reader.

Word count: 586.

Warnings: None, is Aussie slang a warning?

———————————————————————

Baz had just called it a wrap on shooting for the day, everyone had gone back to their trailers to de-costume and just take a breather. After taking your hair out and putting on your clothes you went to knock on your boyfriends door.

“Can I come in?” You called.

“Yeah, baby, doors open.” Austin replied from inside, stood at the mirror, wiping the last of his Elvis make up off.

“You hungry?” He asked, watching you sink into the chair beside him through the mirror.

“Yeah.”

“Should we go get some dinner?” At this point it was an unnecessary question, but he asked you anyway.

You turned to look at him. “Well, I’m not here to fuck spiders.”

He paused for a second, you could visibly see him trying to piece together the words that had just fallen out your mouth like a toddler learning what a sentence is.

“What?”

You just burst into laughter at the utter perplexity he stared back at you with. Your laughter caused him to chuckle a bit too, though the bewilderment didn’t leave his eyes.

“Sorry, I forget you’re American, sometimes. I’m not here to fuck spiders, like I’m not here to mess around, you know?”

“I don’t.” Austin laughed. “Is that a real saying?” He picked up his keys off the table and took your jacket in his arms.

“Mhm, it is!” You stood up, nodding proudly. The two of you exited his trailer walking to his car.

“Teach me some more.” He suggested as the two of you hopped into the car, him still smiling about what you’d said earlier.

“Okay, well, right now we’re going to get some tucker.” You said, pulling out of the car park and headed for the small restaurant hidden away near one of the more northern beaches.

“Tucka?”

“Well, you’d pronounce it tucker, but we call it tucker. Means food.”

“Tucka!!” He shouted, poking fun at your accent.

“Don’t ever do that again.” You laughed.

“Dohn’t evah do that again.” He mocked you again. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at his awful shot at an Aussie accent.

“We’re not British, you know.”

“Got anymore?”

“You could say the roads are just chockers with this peak hour traffic.”

“Chockers?”

“Yeah, it comes from chock a block. Means, like, very full or very busy. Or when it’s cold out, instead of telling me to put a jacket on, you could just tell me to rug up.”

“Rug…up?”

“Yeah, rug up, dress warm, you know.”

“Oh I like that, that one’s cute. Why don’t you ever speak to me in Aussie? I could be learning this naturally.”

“Right then, mate, chuck a u-ey cos you just missed our turn.”

You watched as a little whimper of the word ‘what’ escaped his lips.

“I’m kidding Aus, you’re going the right way.” You shook your head with a grin, turning to look out the car window to try and conceal your amusement from him.

“Am I really that foreign to you?” He teased.

“Not that foreign, just a great big idiot.”

The rest of the evening was spent by Austin googling Aussie slang, making you say them all so he could hear it in your accent, then laughing at how ridiculous they all sound. You pretended to get fed up, but seeing him almost in tears of laughter hearing things you’d hear on a daily basis growing up from the adults around you was pretty good entertainment, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

[ghostieblr]

this but sterek.

*

Derek hands him coffee.

"I take—"

"Peanut butter mocha cold brew with a drizzle of caramel, topped with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon."

"Holy shit, dude, you remember my order?"

Derek scowls, but the intensity of it is undermined by his sweet gesture, and the sweet sip of heaven that Stiles takes from the coffee Derek ordered for him because he remembers Stiles' order.

"Don't call me dude," Derek mumbles, and takes a sip of his own coffee, which Stiles vows to find out the flavor of because he is the one with the ten-year-seduction plan, damn it! "And focus on the case."

"It's a stakeout, Sourwolf." Derek sighs exasperatedly at the nickname, but Stiles knows he's fond of it. Not once has Derek told him to drop it verbally, and that's as good as permission goes with him, really. "Focusing is not the priority here."

Derek turns to him with a raised eyebrow. "Then what is?"

Stiles reaches across the car's console and takes the second take-out bag from Derek's hand, grinning. "This is. I'll kiss you if you've got— oh holy Jesus. You really do know me!"

Curly fries, the burger from that one diner he loves, and Derek's literal handmade sandwich with tomatoes, cucumber, lettuce, and a hell of a lot of condiments.

"Literally the perfect stakeout food," Stiles moans, and isn't abashed by it all, because he notices Derek's reaction. He's not blind and nor is he stupid — but he is respectful, and he lets the moment slide like all the previous ones.

"Stiles."

"Shut up and eat?"

"Shut up and focus."

*

He's clutching the book to his chest like it's a sacred treasure, and of course Isaac is giving him puppy looks.

"No! Bad puppy. Go! Shoo!"

Isaac whines. It's hilarious. Except he isn't keen on letting Isaac win, so he clutches the book tighter and moves back three steps, and he's about to take the fourth, when a solid muscle mass stops his moments.

"Why are you treating my beta like a dog?"

"Because he is one!" Stiles side-steps and ends up behind Derek's broad and strong body, eyeing Isaac for any moves. Luckily, his Alpha's presence seems to deter him, and with one last pitiful whine Stiles will make fun of tomorrow, Isaac is leaving the living room. Which means he and Derek are now alone. Almost. "Gone?"

Derek tilts his head to listen, and once the coast is clear, nods his head. Then he's turning around and snatching the book from his hands, and Stiles lets him take it.

"You do know that gifts equal no take-backsies, right?"

"Is this the book I gave you?"

Stiles eyes Derek. He's wearing sweatpants, hair loose and soft with sleep, and a wife-pleaser that is rumpled with too many turns on the bed. He smiles and pulls out the card from his back pocket. It's rectangle and small like a business card, completely black on both sides, with gold letters printed on one side. He gives it to Derek, the blank side up.

"Happy birthday, Alpha," he says softly, and watches Derek take the card gingerly. He doesn't turn it around, even though Stiles knows he's curious about the blank side of it. "You know you didn't have to get us presents, right? Half of us don't even celebrate Christmas."

"I can provide for my pack," Derek says proudly like it's reason enough, and Stiles rolls his eyes. Maybe it is. He smiles, too. "What is this?"

"Turn it around."

Derek does. The book in his hand falls with shock. Stiles curses and dives for it, but he ends up headbutting Derek in his belly, and they both fall to the ground exactly a second after the book does.

"Jesus, Der," he huffs, but doesn't move from where he's fallen over Derek. He's respectful, but he's a little desperate too. What if he didn't read the signs right? What if the shock was not of awe, but of disaster? What if this is the closest he'll be to Derek, one last time?

He doesn't have to wonder for long, though, to have his curious mind settled. Derek's hands come up to wrap around his waist, and suddenly they're turning. Stiles' back hits the floor softly, and he feels the book somewhere to his right with his hand, but his focus is completely shot when he realizes Derek is looking at him, eyes wide with anticipation and joy he's trying hard to suppress.

Stiles takes his left hand and holds onto Derek's shoulder, rubs his right one against his jaw. Working it like iron on shirts, up and down, up down. Derek is always hot to the touch, because werewolves, but the heat that is simmering seems different. Warmer, brighter. Like he can stick his tongue out and taste it, and it'll burn away everything but his smile and pleasure.

"You mean it?" Derek's voice is low, hopeful. A sinking ship, unaware that rescue is on its way, and that it'll be okay.

Stiles shifts his weight so that Derek drops lower, so they're chest-to-chest. "I did," he replies, and instantly hates himself for his about-to-be-hilarious comment, because Derek's face shuts down. It's quick and terrifying, and horrifying, really, that he's had practice enough to mask his emotions like this. "No— That's not what— Fuck. Okay, I was trying to do a bit,"

"A bit." Derek is trying to move away, but Stiles doesn't let him. Derek could leave anyway, but he gives Stiles a chance to explain himself. Always hurt but trying to give a second chance, this man, this man that Stiles loves.

"I'm sorry," he says, both his hands pulling Derek closer. "I was gonna say — I liked you until you made me drop my book, because I love it, because you gave it to me because you know me. You remembered. A bit," he repeats, "It was a bit, but I guess I didn't really think it through. Just wanted to make you laugh, is all."

Derek stares at him, stares and stares. Then he looks at Stiles' lips, and his eyelashes fan over his cheeks, and he's so pretty it makes his heart thump-thump-thump. If he were a cartoon character, his heart would have been jumping out of his skin, pulsating with love and want.

"Did you know," Derek begins, and his words are earnest, soft, and little, like they're supposed to stay in what little space lies between them. "That if you cut me open, and you looked in my heart, that you would find a red door that leads to a room plastered with everything you have ever said to me?"

Derek could have said, "Yeah, I remember." Or, "It's you, of course I do, Stiles. I love you."

But this is better. This is intentional. This is Derek admitting that not only is Stiles a part of his life, but he is a part of his heart and it's deliberate. He's carved out space for Stiles inside there, created a room for him, remembered things and put them there for the future. Because Derek cares.

Stiles can reply, "Oh." He licks his lips, and Derek's eyes follow, and Stiles stares and forgets to breathe for a second there.

"Stiles? You never answered."

And suddenly he's back in his room, creating multiple drafts of the card on his laptop, working out the perfect line for it. "Whenever You're Ready."

Derek continues, "What if I'm not? I know— I've known for a while. Couldn't believe it, but I..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," Stiles pushes up, and Derek takes the hint and pulls back, and then they're sitting on the floor, cross-legged. "I meant it. If love can be letting the other person go, then it can also be waiting. Or at least that's how I want it to be."

Derek's eyes are soft, and Stiles wants to keep looking into them forever, if he gets the chance. "What if that day never comes?"

Stiles shrugs. "Doesn't interfere with my feelings. Blue balls, sure, that'll be a thing more often than not, but I hear it's worse to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. And I'll have you, right? In my life, no matter what?"

"There was no blip in your heart."

Stiles smiles. "I mean it, Derek," he takes Derek's hand, kisses the knuckles on them, one by one. "I really, really do. It's up to you. Whatever you want, your choice."

"My choice is..." The one second of anticipation kills him, but he endures, because love. And the strength of it won't diminish, he's faithful. "Can we read this?" Derek produces the book he let fall, and Stiles grins.

"First date or a friendly cuddle session? Though as far as I know, A Little Life is not romance material."

"But you'll suffer with me? If that's what I want?"

"Yes." There's no ounce of hesitation in his answer, because really, it's that simple.

Derek finally seems to get it, because he presses forward and there they go again, toppling down on the floor, limbs entagled and hearts beating with happiness.

"You're incredible," Derek says, "I think I'm ready."

"And if you're not, that's fine too. You have the card, right? It won't expire. You can cash it in anytime you want."

"Today," Derek says, and they stay there on the floor, hugging and cuddling and grinning like idiots. Then he's picking up the book, and Derek stares before moving them to a better position to read together.

*

Decades later, Derek is the one who remembers this day as their first date, and regals the Hale Pack — now consisting of several members; kids and spouses and grandkids and more on the way — with it, while Stiles fights tooth and claw he doesn't have that no, Derek, our first date was New Year's when you kissed me and promised me your forever!

[whatskraken]

Here are the types of backgrounds you can choose from when you post a dick pic on a Sniffies/Grindr profile:

1) Sparse living room filled with office waiting room sofas. The room has large windows, concrete floors, and exposed ductwork. This is a “gentrified” building. The room is decorated either like a TJ Maxxinista showroom with faux fur throws and brass statuettes/millenial geometric rugs OR Fro-Yo/Bubble Tea Shop royalty free artwork.

2) Hoarded bed room. The bed is wrought iron and oak (often sled shaped) either inherited from parents or purchased from the show floor of Value City (with matching dressers and double-wide mirrored vanity). The side tables are black manufactured wood with silver legs ($20 Walmart) and every surface is covered in lotions and ointments, tissues, Funko Pops, vapes, laundry in plastic baskets, oil diffusers and air fresheners. The wall art is from Kohls with a sort of Tuscan flair: reds, golds, maroons collaged with damask patterns. The room is carpeted in beige.

3) A bathroom from the 1930s that hasn’t been cleaned in equally as long. The shower door is frosted glass and the sink isn’t big enough for one person let alone all the shaving supplies plugged into the outlet next to the dirty mirror. Towels inherited from the nursing home. Stains and mold spores that make you wonder how they ever get clean, let alone feel sexy enough to photograph themselves and make this their first impression.

4) “Mom’s House” guest bathroom. The walls are wallpapered in 1990s stripes & florals with a clashing border 3/4 up the wall. Kohl’s Tuscan-style artwork makes a return, this time in motifs of clawfoot baths and scrolling italicized fonts. There are shadow box frames of dried flowers and an oak towel rack with stacks of decorative hand towels that aren’t functional for drying, and have probably been a permanent fixture in the decor for decades. You know theres a matching furry rug set on the floor and wrapping around the toilet.

5) Crotch shot POV in drivers seat of car after gym. You can’t tell if the logo on the steering wheel is meant to be a flex. Alternatively, with work boots and jeans that might be saying “im a trucker on the road” or “Im just a non-fancy working man who probably isn’t going to shower before meeting up because I only get on the app when I’m running errands.”

Please feel free to add your own observations— these may be regional observations (Northern, Midwestern, East Coast).