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#And the figurines I’m painting for her always leaves gold and silver all over my arms
aringofsalt · 4 months
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56!
(+ steddie, mentioned in another ask)
thank you!!! this one was fun haha i hope you enjoy 💕
56 | FALL OUT BOY - THE PINK SEASHELL
So I take pleasure in the detail, you know
It starts small.
It may even start before he notices it.
The first one he notices is a tiny wooden baseball bat on a keychain. It’s not something he would’ve bought for himself; it’s definitely not something his parents would’ve bought for him, or themselves. It’s sitting on his dresser, behind a crumpled-up shirt that had been there for longer than he cared to admit, and under it is a little post-it note that just says YOURS IS COOLER in scratchy block letters.
The handwriting isn’t Robin’s, or Dustin’s, or Nancy’s; and that’s pretty much the end of the list of people whose handwriting Steve knows by heart, so he shrugs, sticks the note to his mirror, and pockets the keychain.
He puts it on his keys the next morning, and it makes him smile every time he sees it.
The little gifts continue, and they don’t always have notes. There’s a little silver thimble one day the following week, with a single yellow flower bud in it; the following morning there’s a chocolate bar left on his windshield with a note that just says EAT UP. He finds a little pink seashell sitting on his windowsill one evening, practically glowing in the sunset. Another week passes and he’s cleaning up a few hours after a D&D session to find one of their little painted minis. This in itself isn’t weird, but this one has SIR STEVE scrawled on the bottom, and it’s a clearly heroic figure wielding a mace—thanks, Dustin, for the vocabulary—and posed like he’s rushing into danger. It has a more than passing resemblance to him, too, the hair and the eyes, and the armour painted in Hawkins green and gold. This trinket, more than any of the previous ones, gives him a hint to who may be leaving the little gifts, and he hopes he’s right as he jumps in the car, figurine still clutched in his hand.
He drives straight to Eddie’s.
It’s getting dark by the time he gets there, Eddie’s porch light a beacon in the night. The door swings open as he’s setting foot on the stairs, Eddie stepping out to lean casually on the doorframe.
“Sir Steve! To what do I owe the honour of your presence?”
“Well, funny you should mention Sir Steve,” he said, holding up the mini. Eddie stared at it, then snapped his eyes back to Steve’s.
“Um, look, I’m sorry, that’s probably weird, I can get rid of it—”
“Dude, no, if you think I’m giving this up you’re crazy,” Steve laughs. “I love it. But. It was you, leaving the other stuff too, wasn’t it?”
“Yeee-eees?” Eddie drawls out, clearly unsure what reaction he should be having. Steve can practically see the mental battle he’s having over whether to apologise again or turn it into a big joke.
“I liked the seashell,” he blurts out, before Eddie’s expression can fall any further. “I mean, I liked all of them, drove me nuts trying to recognise the handwriting, but. They were all pretty cool. I just… I just don’t get why.” He takes a step forward, emboldened when Eddie doesn’t step back. Why did you do something so nice for me is what’s flying through his head, unsaid, but he can tell Eddie sees the question anyway.
“Because you deserve it,” Eddie tells him quietly. “It’s something stupid my dad used to do for my mom when I was a kid. He always said that life is meaningless anyway, you know, you should take pleasure in little things. He’d find the most random things that made him think of her and leave them around the house for her to find. And you always do stuff for other people so,” he shrugs, “I wanted to do something for you.”
“Oh,” Steve breathes. Eddie grins back, then holds up a finger.
“Hold on, I had the next thing already, may as well give it to you in person now.”
He disappears down the hall, leaving Steve to his own devices for a minute, the sounds of clattering and shuffling papers and muttered curses flying as he searches. It only takes him a moment and then he’s back, holding a fist out, dropping the object into Steve’s waiting palm.
It’s a guitar pick, the twin of the one Eddie always wears around his neck, but instead of red and black, the one in Steve’s hand is swirled in yellow and white. Eddie’s fingers linger, tracing the contours of the pick and brushing Steve’s skin.
Steve closes his own fingers, trapping Eddie’s hand in his, smiling when the other man blinks owlishly in surprise.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “It’s perfect.”
send me a number 1-100 and a character/ship and i’ll write you a mini fic 💕 original post
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irisbaggins · 3 years
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If I paint, I end up with it everywhere on my body.
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schleierkauz · 4 years
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The Color of Revenge: Chapter 5
Because I’m an insomniac fool and because you’re all beautiful and deserve it, here’s chapter 5 featuring the gang and Reckless references so blatant even I caught them. Enjoy the love, everyone!
Chapter 5: An Engagement in Ombra
They had all come. By the time the church bells signaled noon the house that everyone in Ombra knew only as the Bluejay’s workshop was already full. Resa had even opened her chamber of wonders for the special occasion, a little room right behind Mo’s workshop where she displayed truly wonderful things.
Scales of nymphs and water-sprites that she had collected at the nearby riverbank could be found there, two honeycombs made by fire-elves (a gift from Dustfinger) and a strand of hair taken from a glass woman. Bowls of healing herbs and dried flowers, tree bark that could dye clothes, but also the page with Fenoglio’s handwritten words that had brought Cosimo the Fair back from the dead – and the book that had killed the Adderhead, bound by her husband.
Meggie was sure that any guest who wandered into her mother’s treasure chamber would immediately forget that they had actually come to celebrate the engagement of her daughter.
Resa’s chamber of wonders also contained two of the flying machine models that Doria had built. Meggie’s mother treated him like a second son by now, but Mo made no secret of his disapproval of Meggie’s and Doria’s plan to move out into their own quarters.
“Don’t be angry with him. Fathers don’t like anyone who outranks them in their daughter’s favor,” Resa had whispered to Meggie when Mo had asked her just a few days ago if she wasn’t a bit too young to be engaged.
Too young… Meggie didn’t feel young. Sometimes she felt so old as if she had lived a dozen lives already. She remembered so many Meggies… The one who had lived alone with Mo in the old drafty house, the prisoner in Capricorn’s village, or the Meggie who had crossed worlds and who had been in love with Farid.
They all seemed to have lived their very own lives. Sometimes Meggie imagined them as little figurines standing in one of Resa’s treasure chests. She remembered each one of those Meggies fondly, but she wouldn’t have traded any of them for the version of herself who was by Doria’s side.
The love he filled her heart with was like a coat she felt around her shoulders. A warm blanket in a cold winter night. She had always believed that no one would ever know her better than Mo did. But Doria saw so effortlessly into the most hidden corners of her heart as if he had always lived there. Some she hadn’t even known herself until he showed them to her.
It was easy to fight with him, to laugh or to sit in silence, and every day he surprised Meggie with a new outlandish thought or plan and lured her deeper and deeper into this world with his insatiable curiosity. Sometimes they would borrow Fenoglio’s stubborn horse and ride for days into some faraway village because Doria had heard of a blacksmith who created wings of gold or a cobbler who could sew seven-league-boots.
“Nonsense!“ Fenoglio shouted any time Doria spoke of such wonders. “There is no magic in my-, I mean, in this world!” he corrected when Rosenquartz shot him a warning look.
But there was. Doria found it every day. And so Meggie wanted to spend all her days with him, even though they had both only just turned 18. Even Dante loved Doria. Wasn’t that proof enough that she was choosing the right one?
“Do you need proof, Meggie?“ she asked herself while accepting another engagement gift. She knew exactly why she was asking herself this question. Before Dustfinger had disappeared to join Mo in his workshop, he had mentioned that the Strong Man had told Farid about her engagement to his younger brother.
What if he showed up?
Meggie hadn’t seen Farid since he’d left for Lorraine two years ago, after the jugglers of the Prince told him about the pathetic fire-breathers who performed at those distant courts.
Did love ever really disappear? Or did it leave its seeds like a flower which would bloom anew once she saw him again?
Meggie’s heart gave her the answer an hour later when Farid suddenly appeared next to Elinor. He had a beard and she barely recognized him at first, but then he looked over at her and -
No.
Her heart did not beat any faster. It filled up with warmth, familiarity and loving derision when Farid pushed his shoulder-length hair out of his face – shoulder-length like Dustfinger’s hair.
Meggie was sure that despite all those princesses, Farid still loved his teacher more than any other person. And he was still vain and eager to be loved and admired. He needed that admiration like the air he breathed.
As he stepped towards Meggie he wore the half-mocking half-enticing smile on his lips that she remembered so well. A fiery rose grew in the hand he held out to her. It left a heart of ash on his skin when it disappeared.
“Engaged?“ he whispered in her ear as he kissed her on the cheek. “Have you lost your mind? The same meal for the rest of your life?”
“This meal tastes different every single day,“ she whispered back, but of course Farid didn’t believe that. He would never believe her that she loved anyone more than him. But his eyes were already searching for Dustfinger. The one love he would never betray.
“Dustfinger is with Mo in his workshop,“ Meggie said.
“Ah, good. How is he?“ Farid turned to look at a girl who had pushed herself past them. Lucinda, the daughter of the miller who helped Mo make paper.
“A sheep loses all its skin and its life for just six pages!“ her father had said to her and Resa one day. “I’m tired of working with parchment. I’m going to accelerate progress a little bit – after all, it’s said that there are already paper mills in Spain and farther north.”
“He’s doing very well,“ Meggie said. “The whole city loves him and he has two new students.”
Farid frowned.
“They’re probably not half as good as I am, right?“
He was hopeless.
“Come on,“ he said and took Meggie’s hand. “I have to have a serious talk with your fiancé. He should know the risk he’s taking. If he makes you unhappy just once, I will turn him into the finest gray ash that this and any other world has ever seen.”
He probably would.
 They couldn’t find Doria anywhere and the house was still so full that they barely made it up the stairs. Meggie and Dante had their chambers on the second floor and there was one bigger room that they all called the “living room”, even though the word came from another world. Mo’s and Resa’s books were kept there, very few compared to their collection in the other world. They cost a fortune in this one, but luckily Mo was able to fill the shelves himself.
Doria stood at the window – with a girl. Farid still knew Meggie well enough that he could feel her antipathy towards this girl. Doria bought the wood for his flying machine models from Filippa’s father and she usually brought it to him. Meggie had walked in on them once, just as Filippa had asked Doria why he hadn’t chosen a girl from Ombra instead of a stranger whose past was unknown.
No, she didn’t like Filippa Bafone. The fact that she was considered the most beautiful girl in Ombra didn’t help matters.
“Ah, the bride!“ she exclaimed when she saw Meggie and Farid standing in the door. “I just showed Doria my gift for you two.”
She shot Farid an appraising look and offered Meggie a bracelet. It was beautiful. Black, painted with tiny flowers. Doria held the matching one in his hand. He smiled at Meggie and pulled her at his side, not without a cautious glance towards Farid.
The glance that Filippa gave Farid was an invitation and Farid was happy to accept. But before he followed Ombra’s most beautiful girl, he whispered something to Meggie.
“You shouldn’t wear those bracelets. Witchcraft,” he added when he saw Meggie’s confused face. Then he and Filippa disappeared in the crowd. Meggie stared after him in disbelief but Doria had already pulled his knife and scratched the paint off of his bracelet.
“He’s right,“ he said. “I’ve heard whispers that Filippa doesn’t just rely on her beauty. I should probably feel flattered.“
He took the other bracelet out of Meggie’s hand and threw them both out of the window.
“Witches?“ Meggie looked down at the street where the bracelets rolled across the pavement.
“Oh yes.“ Doria took her hand and touched the ring he had put on her finger that morning.
“Not here. A few years ago the light witches fought so fiercely with the dark ones that they all disappeared. But farther north there’s still a lot of them, even though the priests of the new religions really hate them. Here in Ombra there are two merchants who sell their items. They say it’s only light magic but everyone knows that’s a lie.”
Witches… Meggie shivered. They were something that belonged only in storybooks. She laughed at herself a moment later – she lived in a book! At least Fenoglio still liked to see it that way. Did he know anything about witches in this world?
“Eastwards there’s said to be a country where princes ride silver dragons,“ Doria whispered to her. “The women in Lorraine turn into foxes. And up in Prussia, an uncle of mine saw people who have skin made of stone. This world is way bigger than just Ombra, Meggie.”
“I know,“ she replied – but what did she know? In all those years during which Fenoglio’s world had become her home (yes, she admitted, she still called it that), she had barely travelled 50 miles from Ombra. Travelling was arduous and she was so happy here in the city! Doria was here, and Dante and Mo and Resa, Elinor and Darius, Dustfinger, Roxane, Brianna and Jehan. What else did she need?
“Do you know what the Black Prince likes to say?“ Doria fed her one of the tiny cakes that Rosenquartz had bought for them from a bakery that specialized in such delicacies made for glass men.
“‘If you try to hide away from the world, it will come to find you one day.‘ I’ve told you so many times: We should travel! Samarkand, Constantinople, Edo – doesn’t that all sound wonderful?”
He started spinning with Meggie. The guests made room and clapped in time with the beat. Two more couples started dancing and Meggie forgot about witches and Filippa’s bracelets. Yes, they would travel! It was time to explore this world outside of books. She twirled in Doria’s arms and couldn’t tell what made her dizzier: Being in love or dancing.
(Next chapter)
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araingirl · 3 years
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That’s how they met
“Ding!"
The silver bells rang for the first time after the veneration of the destruction, for the worship of the celebration. Joss-sticks started emanating aromatic smokes, dipped inside the clay pots. The priests flapped the horsehair fly whisks in front of the holy idol. Lamps kindled, flowers discharged the fragrance and ribbons swayed. Sitting in diamond pose, the chocolate-haired girl drummed the strings of the koto. Melodious jingles of hundreds of untold words sprang from the speechless instrument. The priests chorused:
If you are searching for your lover,
Lose yourself, oh crazy, before everything is over.
If you are searching for your lover,
Lose yourself, oh crazy, before everything is over.
The coco-haired princess opened her mouth. The streams of one thousand cataracts originated from her vocal cord, defeating the tunes of the harp-like instrument. Everybody closed their eyes.
The ways to your abode, oh my lord,
Are just the tales of love,
They're just the legends of romance,
The words of River Fuji.
I recite those words, again and again,
It's nothing but your mercy...
Completing his bath, the slate-haired young man was returning to the temple yard. Suddenly, the magical world composed by a feminine tone chimed inside his ears, overthrowing the chirpings of the birds and the whisperings of the airstream. He felt as if someone had poured cold water inside his veins. Flurries fought against the wetness of his smoky bangs and made them blow. Spellbound, the prince started progressing to the temple. He entered the sanctuary building from the right side. Sitting down on the agate ground, he folded one of his knees and kept another laying horizontally. Propping his head against a flower-wrapped column, he drowned to the river of tunes.
The owner of the honeyed tone continued:
Coming to your reverence, the world is still,
But I'm weightless, because your wishes are guarding me.
But where there is no wish, the life is a desert.
Yet, desert is a flower to me,
As I've lost myself, I've lost myself...
No, the owner of the anonymous songs! You haven't lost yourself. It's I who...who have got lost completely. Your voice is divine; it is the constant truth of the world. I...I can portray you by your tone. I...I cannot see you but paint an image of you on the canvas of my heart. The image is like a starry night; it is embracing me but I cannot hug it back.
Oh tunes! The tunes springing from an unknown voice! You've claimed the seat of my familiarities without being familiar. How perfect you are! You've blossomed like a flower on my arid heart of restlessness...but how strange! You didn't let the waterless land tremble a bit. You didn't melt it, just left it flowered.
The final tune escaped from the instrument as the guy opened his eyes. Not waiting there for a single moment, he descended the stairs. The chocolate-haired girl looked back, noticing the white scarf swaying in the airstream. Her heart skipped a beat, thunderbolts entered her spine. Jolted, she stood up. Leaving her cousins and relatives, she ran downstairs with her lithe feet. Stretching her left arm, she yelled:
"Wait!"
The lord of love became satisfied with her. He turned to her, accepting her wish. Then...
Everything came to a standstill. Wind stopped blowing, birds ceased singing. Flowers looked at them, baffled. His amethysts imprisoned her rubies in their prison without touching them. Both the guard and the prisoner got lost in each other. He appeared from the flowery vines just like the moon, removing all the clouds of the nightly sky.
She gazed at him. The eyelashes of her didn't touch her cheeks. Who was standing in front of her? His hair was two-toned, just representing the skies of sunshine and rainclouds...no no, the skies of days and nights. His face was bright...what? The moon beneath the clouds? The orbs...they were just like purple lotuses growing in any translucent pond, floating under the twin racy icy-blue bows, the thick peaks rising a bit in surprise and slim corners dissolving with the fairness of his skin. Did the surface of moon have ponds? If it had and lotuses grew there, it wouldn't be less similar to the face of the Russian. His scarf was still dancing, winking at her with its invisible eyes. Droplets of the water of river Fuji were still trickling down from his bangs. Broad round shoulders bore the invisible weight of his valor, blue-veined throat had the white twirling scarf at its bottom, keeping the slightly curvy Adam's apple over it. Though it was a sunny day, the brunette felt as if it had been raining in front of her. Even in the rain, the appealing moon was there. There was so much peace on his face that it could even cool the fire. Obvious it was because the one who had to handle the fire always had to remain cool.
Flashback:
A forest. To be clearer, a lane inside a forest. Trees and bushes were by both sides of it, getting mixed with the daylight, embodying an unparalleled combination of light and shadow. In the narrow lane, there was a white horse. On it, a man was sitting, looking back. His hair was two-toned, just like the clouds before rain. His complexion was reminding them about the mixture of milk and turmeric paste. Beneath his fixed eyebrows, there were his eyes, looking like abloom lotuses floating on the surface of a clear pond. He was wearing a pair of comfy baggy trousers, tucked inside his boots and a full-sleeved black top, with purple and grey linings. The upper garment wasn't loose at all, clearly exposing his biceps, triceps and broad shoulders. The white scarf wrapped around his neck was seeming to blow.
Every stroke, every line, every touch of the brushes and colors in the picture was more than perfect. That was ethereal.
Flash forward:
Before her eyes, the creepy jungle of her dream appeared. But it wasn't eerie anymore. The savior was standing there, facing her. It wasn't a dream. It was more than that. It was reality. That was ethereal, so was it.
The moon should have smiled at her. But...why was it seeming baffled?
Perhaps, she didn't know that his amethyst orbs were fulfilling their thirst, quenching the elixir showered by her rubies. The temple, the garden, the instruments-everything disappeared. He found himself in the same jungle where he had roamed in his dreams before twelve years. Her feet were playing tabors there. Her chocolate tresses were playing hide and seek with the air. Her hair was tied into a loose bun. She was wearing a yellow kimono painted with magenta andrika symbols, supported by a broad magenta belt which created a bow behind her back. A pair of kite-shaped fuchsia earrings were dangling from her earlobes, rimmed with gold. Azaleas and golden daisies were tucked inside her hair, over her right ear.
He had seen her before. In the dawns of the late autumn, in the ingratiating nights of the spring.
Flashback:
He was running. His fair feet were smiting the surface of mother earth recklessly. But he couldn't catch her. He was sweating and wheezing. His lungs were craving for oxygen. But he didn't stop. He couldn't stand and rest for a sole second. In front of him, she was also running. But she wasn't panting. She wasn't exhausted. The echoes of her laughter were like the aftershocks of ever-flowing cataracts, rolling down from the crests of high, higher and highest mountains of the world. With her every step on the ground, green grasses were growing. Little but colorful flowers were being upstretched and peeking at the sky. With her slight touch, a leafless tree started growing green leaves. Birds sat on it and began to tweet.
"Wait!" He yelled, "Stop!"
As she heard him, she stopped and turned back at his figurine. Seeing her standing, he also quitted running and stood motionlessly. Her chocolate-colored hair was touching her waist. In the tempo of ever-dancing squall, her auburn locks were also boogying. A pair of irreplaceable rubies were observing him very carefully, situated at the sockets of her eyes. The complexion of her skin reminded the slate-haired boy of the mixture of milk and honey. The rays of sunshine fell on her skin and the succession of those protoderm cells shimmered like solitaires.
He couldn't utter a single word. He silently kept watching her without closing his eyes for once. Every single hair on his body got straightened. He felt warm despite standing on the veneer of his own motherland. In front of her sharp scrutiny, he couldn't stand anymore.
Flash forward:
They both felt like the trees whose roots went deep inside the soil. That's why, they couldn't move, nor their orbs. Eyes felt contented getting the treasury of eyes. From the magical streets of their visions, they found each other's ways towards the spiritual realms of each other's hearts. The color of blood started spreading across their cheeks. Getting the hint, again the birds started singing, flying around them. Flowers bloomed and leaves danced. Bumblebees played their flutes. Nature borrowed the color of love...
"Princess!"
Hearing the familiar masculine voice, the chocolate-haired girl gasped, struggling to emerge from the imaginary world. Her vision met the red-haired Russian who was standing behind his cousin. Startled, the dual-haired prince also turned back.
"Greetings, princess..." He spoke, "Can you recognize me? We met in the refugee camp of sage Dickenson, remember?"
Smiling, the brunette nodded. The redhead continued, "You were willing to meet my cousin. Well, he's my cousin, Kai Alexander Hiwatari. He banned the culture of sacrificing the childless widows in Russia, killed Katherine as well as her force and freed lady Kincaid from the spells of Boris Balkov. Kai, she's Hilary Tachibana, the princess of Japan. She's the one for whom the dwellers of the camp were so calm and relaxed. We used to eat the delicious foods cooked by her."
Like a humble vine, the brunette bowed. Slowly bending down a bit, the phoenix-prince took her right hand and placed a tender kiss on its back, reddening her more. The redhead rolled his eyes at that.
Except his mother and mother-like figures, for the first time, he had lowered his head before a lady.
"Returning from the camp..." Hilary started, "I was feeling worried."
Kai flinched inaudibly. Was he hearing the truth? Had someone been really worrying for him?
"Hilary didn't enjoy a single wink of sleep at that night, prince Hiwatari," Someone's voice could be heard, "Only after getting the news of your victory, she sighed in relief."
Both the boys and the girl looked back. There was the dual-haired princess of Spain standing with a bright smile all over her face.
"Greetings, the princes of Russia," She spoke, bowing, "I'm Julia Fernandez, the princess of Spain and the maternal cousin of Hilary."
"Greetings, princess Fernandez," The redhead glanced at her, "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too, prince..."
"Valkov." Tala finished, "My name is Tala Valkov."
Julia looked at the redhead, narrowing her eyes. How red his hair was! Did someone put fire on his head?
"I mean... I was getting worried for everyone," The brunette cleared her throat, flushing, "But when I got to know the news of Katherine's death, I felt relieved. Thank you so much for saving my motherland, prince."
"The pleasure is mine," Kai responded, "The victory of truth is inevitable, princess."
"I know..." The Japanese princess nodded, "Specially when the representatives of truth are fearless and skilled."
The tiny praise sprinkled vermillion on the moon-like face of the slate-haired prince. Smirking, he lowered his gazes. His amethysts roamed over her lily feet. Her nails were shot and pink, pouring cold water in his eyes.
"Anyways," Tala interrupted, "Kai, I came here with a view to informing you that His Majesty of Hayashi Tachibana has called sage Dickenson to his place. Sir Dickenson has decided to take us with him. So, let's go. See you, princess."
"See you too, prince." Hilary smiled. Leering back, the redhead almost dragged his cousin towards the palace. Before leaving, the phoenix-prince didn't forget to look at the chocolate-haired girl. Blushingly, the auburn-haired princess moved back to the temple.
.....................................................................
One of the most magnificent KaiXHilary moments from my KaiHil story “Kingdom”. Don’t forget to read and review it :P 
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babygirlofwakanda · 4 years
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Season’s Greeting
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CHARACTERS — Giselle X Chris Hemsworth
CONTENT — Christmas Shenanigans and Surpises!
PLOT — A little somethin’ surrounding Christmas.
NARRATIVE — Christmas has always been an event for Giselle. Dating back to her excitement and starry eyed gaze at the string lights as a child in Texas, the brown beauty’s unconditional love for the holiday hasn’t strayed throughout the decades.
Sharing her passion with her husband, Chris quickly understood the importance to Giselle and has since aided in making this time of year special for her and now for their children.
A long way from the modern style home he once knew, the six-foot four man stood in between the living room and kitchen with his hands on his hips and admired the festive changes. With an array of red, white and gold accented decor spread through the house Chris took everything in. Starting from the train track underneath the eight-foot tree, red throw pillows and holiday figurines on the tables to the mistletoe he stashed above the doorways.
Stifling out a laugh at his wife’s attention to detail the Aussie shuffled over to the mirror in the hallway and flattened his palm over his black long-sleeve shirt before sighing while looking at his TAG Heuer.
“Giselle— sweetheart! The reservation is for eight and its almost six forty-five, we gotta hit the road!”
“—I know Chris, I’m coming! Uh, just gimme like five more minutes.” He heard her promise, making Chris exhale only for him to inhale the scented pine cones dipped in various oils scattered around his house.
Whispering, “What the hell is she doing up there..” under his breath, Chris waltzed into the kitchen.
Reaching down the actor stole a couple of gumdrop from his children’s gingerbread houses, propped up against the countertop before popping a few into his mouth. Grabbing another gumdrop from the rooftop of the gingerbread house, Chris allowed the smooth harmonies of The Temptations Silent Night playing from the speakers to distract him from the time.
Alone in the kitchen with a mouth full of candy Chris tried to hold the classic ‘silent night’ note only for his gruff voice to come out in the wrong pitch. “—damn babe!” He heard Giselle’s squeak out from behind.
Turning around as Giselle’s infectious laugh echoed through the kitchen, the Aussie strolled closer and continued his singing; keeping a smile on her face.
Inching his face closer towards Giselle, he cradled her face and started to lower his face only to pause mid-motion as he admired her undeniable beauty.
Meeting him halfway Giselle lifted her face to kiss him; immediately muffling his singing. Pulling back from the tender kiss Giselle felt Chris nudge his nose against hers in a way to subliminally ask for another kiss before she placed a hand against his black silk shirt and whispered, “Let’s go.” against his lips.
“Uh, okay,” Chris groaned, as he stood straight with a pout, “—but not before you spin around for me!” He hyped, quickly replacing his frown with a sly grin.
Sliding his palm into hers, Chris lifted their hands up and motioned for her to twirl around. Gluing his eyes to her body as Giselle pivoted in a circle, he watched the silk and denim pairing clutch onto every slope of her body. Leaving Chris blinking away the lust from his orbs before she turned to him; exhaling Chris licked over his lips before he ushered them out.
Oh, how date night was Chris’s fucking favorite night. With the children out with their grandparents; Alex and Janice who arrived last night, they were out doing some last minute shopping before taking the kids to see Frozen 2 for the umpteenth time.
The clinging of silverware, small chatter and the sizzling of the food carried on the trays of passing waiters filled Giselle’s ear. Glancing around the deck Giselle admired the string lights wrapped around the balcony and beams while the dark purple hue above painted the sky as the sunsetted above the ocean.
Enthralled in the scene, Giselle felt the wind softly blow through her hair while she breathed in the salty air before shifting around. Taking ahold of her straw, she stirred the strawberry lemonade conation and gripped the glass before bringing it to her lips.
Gulping down her drink in one take she heard her husband clear his throat before his voice followed, “Uh, is everything alright?” He questioned, making Giselle slowly sink in her chair. Did he figure her out?
“No, um— I’m fine. Why, wassup?” She rebutted.
“It’s just that um— everytime we come here you order the wine,” The Australian stuttered out, before he went to nervously rub the back of his neck.
“—and as of late, you’ve been chugging down the lemonade— but it’s not just that; it’s everything.”
“Like how lately you practically start gagging on queue whenever seafood is present— which may I remind you has been your favorite food since we’ve met. Or the constant running off the bathroom and now the lemonade! Baby, you only do that when,”
“—I have your basket of garlic bread right here, your food should be out shortly.” The waiter interrupted.
Directing her gaze from Chris’s anxious face to the smiling waiter, Giselle returned his grin while silently thanking the high heavens for stopping her husband from talking his way into ruining her surprise present.
The rest of the dinner flowed nicely. After forgetting the suggestive topic he was going to discuss, Chris and Giselle ate and giggled as they thought about how their family was going to react to their gifts.
Hitting a quiet mark as her husband sipped on his tequila, Giselle knew this was her opportunity to talk to Chris. Clearing her throat, “Now, I know that we’ve agreed that we weren’t gonna spoil eachother before Christmas but I got somethin’ for you honeybun.”
Reaching into her purse Giselle slipped out a brown flat, but wide box tied with a glittery red bow before she placed it on the table and slid it towards Chris.
With her acrylics still on the box, Giselle watched Chris’s thick digits touch the other end before she flicked her orbs up to look into his. “I couldn’t wait babe, I needed to have this moment with you and only you.” She detailed, before releasing the box.
In the box contained three positive pregnancy tests and underneath was a photoset of their unborn child.
With days of denying the possibility after her sick episode in Texas, Giselle couldn’t shake the feeling but once the symptoms started to slowly arise she abruptly sent her assistant to the store. Making out the two lines with ease Giselle kept her little secret and found out she was coming along nine weeks pregnant until this very moment; this second.
Instantly feeling a wave of vulnerability travel down her spine Giselle also felt the urge of premature tears threatening to unleash as one slipped from her eye while she watched her husband’s instant reaction.
Staring at her husband Giselle saw the corners of Chris’s mouth quickly lift as he picked up one of the tests and widened his smile over the digital two lines before he put it down and caressed his thumb over the developing baby in the ultrasound pictures.
Watching the moment Chris finally looked up, the brown beauty caught the extra gloss over his eyes before he blinked and allowed a tear to fall as well.
“Giselle! Oh my— this is fucking incredible baby!”
Thankful for the secluded area, Giselle beamed as Chris abruptly jumped up; making the chair screech in the process before he jogged over to embrace her.
Standing up, Giselle was immediately wrapped in Chris’s arms as he rocked her side to side. Pressing kisses all over her head he mumbled, “I fucking love you,” gripped her face and exchanged a tearful gaze with his wife before he smashed their lips together.
——————————
The Christmas spirit was unmatched in the Hemsworth household. With everyone clad in a holiday printed onesies and slippers, drinking from their customized mugs of hot chocolate and Giselle’s playlist that included everyone from Destiny’s Child, Wham! to Alexander O’Neal playing through the tv; the family piled into the living with full stomachs from the big breakfast before passing out gifts.
“GiGi! You did not!” Iris gasped, as she slowly pulled the dust bag out of the mustard-colored Fendi box.
Hearing her sister squeal once the neon pink bag from Nicki Minaj’s collab was in her possession, the oldest sister swore she saw Iris leap across the living room just to bring Chris and her into a bear hug while she beamed. Once Iris released them and returned to baby Mia attempting to put a red bow in her mouth, Giselle continued watching her kids unwrap their gifts before she looked over her shoulder to find Chris with a silver glitter box lying in his palms.
Closely watching her husband raise the top Giselle instantly caught Chris’s blue eyes light up while his jaw falter open making the quarter million she spent all worth it for her honeybun’s priceless smile. In the box contained the car keys to a 1965 Chevy Corvair Monza with a custom baby blue paint job, cream seating, silver detailing and a full tank of gas.
After hearing countless fond memories of her husband’s childhood singled around this vehicle, Giselle knew it was only a matter of time before she had to get Chris the car he constantly ranted about.
Heart-racing from excitement the Aussie quickly picked up the keys and pressed a button abruptly making the car ring out. Immediately looking at his wife with childlike joy, Chris struggled to his feet and ran to the front door which instantly made the rest of the family follow behind in peak curiosity. Running to the driveway Chris quickly faltered his steps once his eyes landed on the replica car his father, Craig drove around when Chris was nothing but a young lad.
Picking up his pace while he unlocked the car, Chris slid in the car with door propped opened and gawked over the smooth interior. Hearing the footsteps of his family scurrying down the pavement, the surprised man took his orbs off the vehicle and brought them to Giselle who grinned as she stared back at him.
—and before he knew it, Chris was stumbling out of the car and over to her like a lovesick puppy as the family patted his back and went to admire the car.
Roughly gripping her face the Aussie scooped down and kissed Giselle to transfer his appreciation before he leaned back and pulled her frame into his while he swayed her body with his eyes closed. “Whew, I love you so fucking much girl!” He grunted, before he squeezed her tighter with his last few words.
“I love you too, honeybun. I hope you liked your gift.”
Immediately cocking his head back, Chris quickly scrunched his face up, “Liked? Girl, I love this gift.” He corrected, making Giselle’s infectious laugh ring out. Biting his lips in effort to contain his smile Chris slid his tongue over his lips as he looked down at his wife, “C’mon, I still have gifts for you.” He winked, with a nod to the house before pulling her hand.
Returning back to the living room with the family slowing filing back inside, the brown beauty retook her place back on the floor while Chris searched for a specific gift and within a few moments, the wrapped present was placed infront of her crisscrossed legs.
Grinning up at her husband, Giselle dragged her chocolate orbs away from him and turned towards her gift before she pressed her acrylics through the striped wrapping paper. Uncovering the orange box, Giselle squealed as she ran a finger over the Hermès logo engraved on the lid. After lifting the top, pulling the tissue paper back to grab the dust bag, Giselle felt her smile reach her eyes once her hand made contact with the slick fabric before pulling it out.
“Oh, shit!” She rasped, with her wide-eyes glued to the exclusive Rose Scheherazade Porosus Crocodile Birkin bag. Ghosting a hand over the reptile skin, the overjoyed wife flicked her eyes to her blue eyed beau; who now sat beside her and beamed as he observed her reaction. Throwing her arms around his neck she started placing kissing all over his face, “Thank you! Thank you!” Giselle repeated, as her family awed.
After months of procrastinating to buy this bag only to avoid the store whenever she was on Rodeo Drive, Giselle never expected Chris to catch her off guard.
“Ew!” The couple heard their kids groan whenever their affection lingering for more than thirty seconds.
Pulling away with a laugh, Giselle grabbed her latest addition to her Birkins before squealing once more.
Wrapping paper slowly began to litter the floor and sitting on the floor watching, the Hollywood couple watched on still enamored by their personal gifts.
“—good lookin’ out on the shades guys!” Liam yelled, with a thumbs up as he waved his storage case full of aviators around. Smiling at her brother-in-law, Giselle watched as her children and nieces excitedly played with their new toys while her parents and in-laws gawked over their designer trinkets and bags.
Looking up at her husband who also looked around the living room, it wasn’t long before Chris caught her eyes and the Hollywood couple shared a look.
Knowing that they had an important announcement to share with their family, Giselle sprung to her feet and grabbed a wrapped box hidden behind the tree while Chris got everybody’s attention, “Hey, hey!”
“We have something we would like to share with everyone.” His thick accent ranged out, with a touch of nervousness and excitement inflected in his tone.
“Yes, we do.” Giselle hinted, as she placed the box on the coffee table infront of where her parents and in-laws sat. “—please, everyone gather around.”
Retreating back to where her husband stood, Giselle threw her left arm around his waist while he draped his arm over her shoulder and brought her closer.
“Go on and open it.” The actress gestured, making Mama Janice and Mama Leonie carefully open the box while Papa Alex and Papa Craig looked on.
Anxiously watching her parents and in-laws raise the lid to the box, Giselle nervously leaned into Chris and lifted her hands to her face only to spread them and peak between her fingers as their shrieks echoed.
In the box contained a ultrasound picture tapped to the lid with a black letter-board in the box that read, ‘Baby Hemsworth. Due in June 2020.’ and under the board included a beige teddy bear, a baby rattle and bottle, and a folded white bodysuit and mini socks.
“—ahh! I knew it, I knew it!” Mama Janice exclaimed, as she jumped up and down before walking towards her daughter with her arms out and a bright smile.
Breaking away from her husband, Giselle was instantly immersed in the warmth of her mother’s arms. With tears of joys slipping from her chocolate orbs, the emotional beauty smiled and wiped at her tears before she was embraced by a tearful Leonie.
“Congratulations, sweetheart!” Her mother-in-law whispered, before pressing a chaste kiss to Giselle’s head and pulling away. Gushing from all the love, the actress caught her husband dapping up Quinton and Liam as they also gave their ‘congrats’ before teasing Chris on baby number four. Smiling at their moment Giselle’s eyes were quickly taken off them as small arms wrapped themselves around her abdomen.
Looking down she spotted her twins hugging her growing belly, “I love you mommy!”, “I can’t wait for the baby to come out!” Her girls squealed, before she hugged her twins and kissed their heads. As the girls skipped away to go play with their new iPads. Giselle went to go take a seat when the soft pulling of her onesie immediately caught her attention.
Dragging her eyes down Giselle instantly saw her babyboy’s ever-changing green eyes peering up at her while a frown graced his face. Twisting her own lips around the momma-bear cupped her three year olds chin before she asked what was wrong. “I don’t wanna share you.” He pouted, “C’mon Julian, your sisters had to share their time with me when you came along and now you have to do the same.”
“It doesn’t mean that mommy or daddy loves you any less, you hear me? We love you, and besides,”
Crouching down almost eyelevel to Julian, Giselle spoke to her youngest child, “—this means that you get to be a big brother Jules!” She hyped, as a smile replaced his confusion. Taking him into her arms, she cradled Julian’s body in her lap until her back leaned up against the couch, “When the baby gets older you can show them all your toys, play hide and go seek, read them stories just like your sisters do you and,”
“—and I can share my floaties when w-we go in the big ocean with daddy and my uncles!”, “—and you can share your floaties!” Giselle repeated, with a headnod while gushing at her son’s words.
Once the family calmed down from the news of a new addition, the couple sat on the floor as Chris shared his own excitement with his loved ones.
“Y’know despite all the gifts we’ve received today, my greatest gift is just being able to have y’all here and sharing the good news.” Chris smiled, while he caressed Giselle’s belly as she sat between his bent legs on the floor. “Every year you all either fly these long hours just to come to Australia or drive all the way down here to celebrate Christmas together.”
“—and we truly appreciate that.” Chris admitted, as he interlocked his fingers with Giselle as she turned back to smile at him. “We love everyone of you and we just want to wish y’all a Merry Christmas.”
Hearing the family echo back his words, Giselle gushed and leaned back into her husband’s warm arms as he continued to massage her little pudge.
They couldn’t wait for their bundle of joy arrival.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — I hope everyone had a great Christmas! Let’s get this new year poppin’!
TAGLIST — @wakandas-vibranium @oceanscorazon @melaninmarvel @wakandamama @storibambino @shortstacks-blog @chaneajoyyy @klaylakayblack @ashanti-notthesinger @iamrheaspeaks @destinio1 @theunsweetenedtruth @wakanda-inspired @s0eul
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In which Cameron, Donna, Haley, and Joanie put up and decorate their Christmas tree
[CN: food, drink]
It’s the first week of December 1995, and Donna gets home a little early from work, and as she goes up to the kitchen, she hears Joanie ask Cameron, “Hey, so did Mom tell you that we’re trimming the tree on Sunday?” It’s mere days after a busy, emotional, but mostly lovely Thanksgiving weekend, and Cameron doesn’t say anything. Joanie says, “You’ll be there, right? I mean, you’ll be here anyway, for ‘work’ or whatever, won’t you?”
Donna, who’d decided to not risk scaring Cameron off with a firm invitation and had instead hoped that she would wander in as usual while they were decorating and then casually join them, gets up to the kitchen just in time to see Cameron’s eyes widen in panic, and feel her own face turn red. Hastily, she insists, “It’s not really that big a deal! It’s just gonna be us, putting up some decorations, and having popcorn and hot cocoa. And you don’t have to stay if you don’t want, you’re free to have an early night, go home after dinner.”
With an exaggerated and clearly uncomfortable shrug, and her voice an octave higher than usual, Cameron says, “Oh, sure, okay? Yeah. Cool. That should be great?” They don’t talk about it again for the rest of the evening. 
But Cameron returns that Sunday, of course, and she does wind up staying, until well after dinner. When she gets there, their artificial tree is already set up in the back corner of the living room, near the sliding doors that lead out to the pool, where a huge planter used to sit, and boxes of decorations have already been stacked on the armchair near the tree, spilling over to the nearest corner of the couch. When Joanie and Haley start opening the boxes of decorations after dinner, chatting and laughing together, Cameron suddenly finds herself unwilling to leave. Donna goes to put on some sweatpants, Joanie puts on some music, and before Cameron knows what’s happening, she’s unwrapping pieces of their nativity set while Haley unfurls a string of white lights. 
The lights are ready by the time Donna returns, feet slippered and hair pulled back into a bouncy ponytail, and she carefully wraps them around the tree while Haley and Joanie look for the tinsel (read: Haley looks, and Joanie ‘supervises’ her). Donna makes it looks easy, but she jokes, “Your father hated any and all decorations that involved lights, and I used to call him a grinch for it, but now I get it.” Long ropes of silver tinsel are next, and by that point, Cameron has helpfully pulled an excessive number of gold, silver, green, and red glass ball ornaments out of their protective old newspaper packaging. There are also dated ‘baby’s first Christmas’ ornaments for both Joanie and Haley, an ‘our first Christmas together’ ornament from the year Donna and Gordon got married, and a variety of Peanuts character ornaments.
Cameron lets Donna and the girls do most of the ornament placement, not wanting to get underfoot. She sits on the floor, a few feet away, surrounded by boxes, until Donna says, “Have you seen…?” just before she starts digging through their boxes of ornaments herself. After a minute, she says, “Here it is! Here, come hang this one!” Cameron gets up slowly and walks over to the tree, dusting off her jeans, and takes the ornament from Donna by its ribbon. It’s a tiny figurine of a little boy in red pajamas sitting at a computer — and an old one, it looks very much like the one Cameron wrote the BIOS on in 1983 — typing up a letter that says, “Dear Santa, I’ve been very, very, very good.” Even she has to it admit that it’s pretty darn cute, and she hangs it from an elbow height branch. Donna hands her a next ornament, and says, “Happy Holidata, Cam.” 
Cameron looks at it, and it’s another computer, but a slightly more recent model, and two white mice, one of them sitting on top of the monitor, and the other perched on the opposite edge of the keyboard. The monitor screen says, “Happy Holidata.” Cameron grins, and says, “Happy holidata to you too, Donna.” 
Before long, the tree is fully trimmed, they’re all admiring it from the kitchen. While Donna is fixing their snacks, Joanie presents Cameron with her own large red velvet Christmas stocking, ‘Cam’ lettered on its white cuff in what looks like shimmery gold 3D fabric paint. Embarrassed, Cameron tries to wave her away, “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that….”
As the popcorn starts to pop, Donna quips, “Looks like it’s already done,” and then turns her attention to microwaving their butter.
Cameron takes the stocking from Joanie and looks at it. She frowns, “I can’t remember the last time I had one of these.”
Nose wrinkling in judgement, Joanie says, “Did you and Tom just like, not do stockings? Or is that not a thing in Japan?” 
Cameron sighs, “He had a stocking, at his mom’s house, which is where we always went. They kept forgetting to make mine, and when I said that sometimes it felt like it was intentional after three years, Tom told me that I was being childish.” 
Haley silently mouths a shocked ‘wow,’ and Joanie, outraged, says, “WELL, we didn’t forget, so your stocking will be hung with care here in the living room, on Mom’s weird modern fire place thing.”
Cameron opens her mouth to say something, but then stops, and then starts again, “But wait, won’t that be like, confusing? If my stocking is in your living room? When I don’t live here? I mean, like. For…Santa?”
Haley and Joanie both turn to look at Cameron as if she’s just asked the most ridiculous question. Donna, who’s just gotten a large bowl from the cabinet, puts it down so she can place her hands on island counter and nail Cameron with a very boardroom-type glare. In the most serious voice Cameron has heard her use since the night she left Mutiny, Donna says, “I’m sorry, are you suggesting that Santa Claus and his team of experienced professionals can’t figure this out? Do you think yours will be the first non-resident stocking situation for which they’ve had to prepare?” 
Cameron is so shocked that she momentarily actually wonders if Donna might have information regarding the existence of Santa Claus that she isn’t privy to. She thinks to herself, “I mean I wouldn’t put it past her…” and then, feeling silly, Cameron says, “No, you’re right, that sounds very obvious now that you’ve said it out loud.” Both Haley and Joanie struggle not to laugh, and then Cameron says, “But what if…I mean, I’m not sure I’ll be here on the 25th?”
Donna’s face falls. “What do you mean, you’re not sure you’ll be here? Were you invited somewhere else?”
Feigning only a little more outrage than she feels, Joanie says, “What, is there some other hot middle aged mom with two charming teenage daughters that you’ve been hanging out with?”
“Joanie Marie!” Donna hisses.
Cameron and Haley finally laugh at this, though, and Cameron says, “No, you guys are the only hot middle aged mom and charming kids in my life.” (Joanie glances over at her mom, and sees her blush.) “But I didn’t know…I didn’t want to assume that I was invited, that’s all.”
Exasperated, Donna sighs, “Of course you’re invited. Will you grace us with your presence on Christmas Day, then?”
Cameron wishes she could sound believably excited or even happy, but that’s something she’s never been very good at, so instead, she quietly says, “Sure, I would love to.”
Joanie says, “Well, now that that’s finally settled…” and goes over to the fireplace, and hangs all of their stockings. The popcorn is ready and waiting in its bowl (Cameron adds more salt to it), and Donna is pouring out mugs of cocoa (Cameron adds too many marshmallows to hers). 
Joanie comes back, picks up her mug, and says, “Okay, so what are we toasting to, then?”
Donna raises her mug, and says, “To my kids thinking that I’m a hot middle aged mom.”
Joanie rolls her eyes, and says, “It’s just objectively true, Mom, don’t get a big head over it. Um, okay, here, to found family?”
Haley adds, “And to celebrating with them, even though sometimes it feels sad.”
They all raise their mugs, and say, “To found family, and to celebrating with them,” and they drink.
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pckarchives · 4 years
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beneath the cut , you’ll find random tidbits of info that i thought up at unholy hours of the night. took all day but tbh ..... this was therapy. i really said, “i’ll make my own damn self happy,” and it shows.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟏.     ›     alicia marie levesque boyd-whitley.
► hobbies ➔ painting and decoration, primarily. for the most part, this is due to the nostalgia of doing it with her moms. she’s not awful at it, but she’s not van gogh levels of good, either. it’s just for fun, as all things should be. she’s also incredibly creative, so things like renovation ideas come easy to her. she did ballet for several years, but dropped it before she moved to beacon hills. ► social media handles ➔ she’s aleesha on just about everything. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ mostly conventional, with a series of emojis attached to every name. ► favorite color ➔ green. but sea foam-ish green. ► favorite video game ➔ animal crossing new horizons. she’s a simple bitch; she sees cute animals, she plays the damn game. ► favorite song ➔ style by taylor swift. ► favorite scent ➔ pumpkin spice! not to be totally cliché, but that scent is unbeatable. she has a million candles with that scent alone. ► favorite band/artist ➔ taylor swift, of course. ► favorite place to be ➔ nana’s house! ► favorite season ➔ winter! she had so much fun with lucy over this past winter and if that’s the way lucy acts every year for christmas, then alicia looks forward to it! ► favorite word ➔ squishy. ► favorite meme ➔ maybe so.gif ► if they were an animal ➔ cheetah! ► if they were a color ➔ beige. no longer the pure white she once was, but not the tar pit that she could have been, either. a beautiful mixture of purities and imperfections. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *going through the five stages of grief* HHHHHHHHH !!!!! someone just slid in my dms and *voice cracking* this is what they said.... *sobbing* gIRL.... *sniffle* HNNNNNN..... you should sell hoT DOGs.... ‘cause you know how to make a weiner stand. hNNNNNN.... HNNNNN!!!!!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ shake it off. ► aesthetic ➔ paint-stained overalls, tear tracks covered in glitter and flower petals, crooked fingers snagging the last slice of pizza out the box, thick-framed glasses with the lens popped out, it’s for the aesthetic, sharpie’d converse kicks and open hearts doodled onto the palm of your hand –– darling girl, someone will really love you one day. ► motto ➔ “it really do be like that sometimes.” ► theme song ➔ lights up by harry styles.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟐.     ›     amari rose kent.
► hobbies ➔ writing, mostly out of spite. in middle school, she had a meeting with the principal, during which he told her she was at risk of being expelled, due to how many teachers had issues with her. this was the same principal who told her she would never get anywhere, hanging off of tate’s coattails, so she wrote a 50-page paper in the span of one week, shaming the school for its discrimination and unethical practices when it came to students. instead of giving the paper to the principal, she submitted it to the board of education and got the man fired. not only did the essay make it onto local news, it also got her a scholarship to devenford prep; lucky, since tatum had already been offered a scholarship and was on the verge of turning it down because she wouldn’t go without amari. though she hasn’t spitefully written anything that huge since, she is still not afraid to thinkshame. also dabbles in poetry and collage-making. ► social media handles ➔ amari_rose on twitter and instagram. she surprisingly does not have a snapchat! ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. at best, she’s giving nicknames. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ she doesn’t play video games, so she doesn’t know. ► favorite song ➔ bad guy by billie eilish. ► favorite scent ➔ not to kinkshame, but.... leather. ► favorite band/artist ➔ billie eilish, she is not ashamed! ► favorite place to be ➔ wherever tate and owen are, honestly. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ bullshit. ► favorite meme ➔ thA’TS MY OPINION !!!! ► if they were an animal ➔ panther. ► if they were a color ➔ silver. black is a hard color to obtain and she hardly comes close. she’s got all the darkness she doesn’t need, but the world put that in her. still, she’s close to light, too; close to breathing in sunlight. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ to the mIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHER –– yes, YOU, you know who you are –– who said EYE would never be shit, LOOK AT ME NOW, WHORE ! LOOK AT ME NOW .... not shit. and HOW YOU LIKE IT ? *twerks belligerently* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔  sad beautiful tragic. ► aesthetic ➔ messily chopped hair in the bathroom sink, tongue poked out to lick ketchup off of nimble fingers, rushed words in a lost diary, a bottle drifting out at sea, cigarette smoke and tequila-coated daydreams, harsh breaths in and out and in and out, bruised knuckles and bleeding lips, we’re not done here. ► motto ➔ “chin up, chest out.” ► theme song ➔ all the good girls go to hell by billie eilish. alternatively, kiwi by harry styles.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟑.     ›     camden wesley layton lahey.
► hobbies ➔ he took up woodworking a few years back. therapy and whatnot. he likes making little birds and figurines out of wood, keeps a box of them in his nightstand. ► social media handles ➔ he’s not on social media! he’s old, leave him alone. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ very conventional. again, he’s old, leave him! ► favorite color ➔ grassy green. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s always going to be a sucker for mario party. that game is unfairly frustrating, but he would ride or die for it. ► favorite song ➔ i of the storm by of monsters and men. ► favorite scent ➔ peppermint! it used to make him sick, because it’s such a strong smell, but it’s now his absolute favorite thing in the world. ► favorite band/artist ➔ gorillaz. ► favorite place to be ➔ he honestly prefers closed spaces? tight spaces where he can see every corner, every entrance, every exit, every tile on the floor. whenever he starts panicking, he will sneak away to the nearest closet or something. ► favorite season ➔ spring. rebirth, babyyy. ► favorite word ➔ dammit. ► favorite meme ➔ it’s free real estate. ► if they were an animal ➔ german shepard. ► if they were a color ➔ light pink. this strange mix between the pure white of being a blank slate and the awful red of having spilled more blood than he can even remember. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ AWWWWWWW 😍😍 awww, i’m gonna die alone 🤗🤗🤗 awww !!! i’m never gonna know what it’s like to be LOVED, AWWWWWW !!!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ holy ground. ► aesthetic ➔ sweat-dotted skin, racing heart, jingling dog tags, checking the locks on the door once and then again and then again and once more just to be sure, hesitant hands and wet eyes, a smile that’s easy even when nothing else is, sunlight pouring in through a cracked window, a step closer to an answer, five steps back. ► motto ➔ “sure, jan.” ► theme song ➔ clint eastwood by gorillaz.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟒.     ›     charles gerard argent.
► hobbies ➔ someone should tell him that working out isn’t a personality trait, but it really is his hobby. your depression can’t catch up to you, if you’re getting these gainz. ► social media handles ➔ he’s charliecharlie on everything, because he’s funny. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ it used to be creative, but man, that depression hit him hard and he switched to conventional. ► favorite color ➔ white. ► favorite video game ➔ fortnite, shut the fuck up, liam, he doesn’t want to hear it. ► favorite song ➔ perfect ruin by kwabs. ► favorite scent ➔ salt water. ► favorite band/artist ➔ clairo. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the beach. he takes frequent drives up to the closest beach, ► favorite season ➔ summer. beach time! all the time! ► favorite word ➔ yeet. ► favorite meme ➔ y E E T. ► if they were an animal ➔ raven. ► if they were a color ➔ a myriad of colors; there are so many facets to charlie and until he figures out exactly where he is in life, he’s going to keep creating a puddle of colors. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *dancing and singing to the tune of under the sea* ptsd 🤪 anxiety 🤪 crippling depression, there is no question, you should kill me !! let me be with HARAMBE 😤✊ i feel like shit every day ! i’m asking nicely, do it by drowning, under da sea 🌊🌊 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ getaway car. ► aesthetic ➔ that damnable water’s edge, the view from the top of a mountain, gnawed fingernails and scraped skin, 11:11 and back again, holstered knives and picturesque smiles, droplets of blood spilled into cold coffee, palm grazing the door to happiness but not quite opening it yet ––– another day and you might just make it. ► motto ➔ “que ce sang protège ceux qui ne peuvent se protéger.” ► theme song ➔ broken bones by kaleo.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟓.     ›     cora vienna hale.
► hobbies ➔ lowkey has a love of mechanics. she doesn’t trust anyone else to repair her bike, so she learned how to do it herself. also learned how to fix cars, because scott is always messing his up. also still plays soccer when she has the time. ► social media handles ➔ she’s just corahale on everything. it’s more “professional” than what she had before. which was... a series of expletives that made lydia blush. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, unless she really hates you. then she can get creative. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ detroit: become human. ► favorite song ➔ hold on just a little while longer from d:bh. luther snapped. ► favorite scent ➔ pinecones. ► favorite band/artist ➔ bryson tiller. ► favorite place to be ➔ the hale house. it feels good to be able to go there again and not be assaulted with all of the reminders of what she lost. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ buttercup. look her in the eye and tell her it’s not the cutest word you’ve ever heard. exactly, you can’t. ► favorite meme ➔ looks into the camera like she’s on the office. ► if they were an animal ➔ lion. ► if they were a color ➔ gold. pure and beautiful; maybe not innocent, maybe not for everyone. but royal and bold and unrelenting. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ sO... .i just went to starbucks and i got my iced coffee and i was standing in line and these little girls were looking at me. *sniff* and i was like, “okay, funny joke.” so i, um, i’m s–– i’m waiting for my coffee, uh, at starbucks, and these other little girls were just, like, LOOKING AT ME and they kept on staring and then this DAD kept on looking and then he kept on staring. and *uncomfortable laughter* ....... *more laughter* ..... *turns on music* *keeps laughing* *turns music off* what kind of sick fucking joke ? .... *uncomfortable shrugging* ...i EXIST ? *more laughter* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ clean. ► aesthetic ➔ a horrid red fire meets a river of blue, gasoline stains on faded tees, an unexpected smile on a rainy day, the way the forest breathes after a rainstorm, skintight dresses and haughty gazes, a smirk that rests for no one, the innocence of a white wolf in a prom dress. ► motto ➔ “flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo.” ► theme song ➔ big god by florence and the machine. alt. the man by taylor swift.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟔.     ›     daniel nahele mahealani.
► hobbies ➔ he no longer loves hacking or music, because... whew, high school killed everything he cared about. mostly sticks to being lydia’s dress up doll. ► social media handles ➔ he’s d-annyboy on all things, because it’s easy! ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, unless he’s trying to hide something from jackson and lydia. lydia is not afraid to go through his phone, which he genuinely doesn’t mind, that’s why she knows all of his passwords and stuff. but he does not need her to know how many guys he’s fucked that she didn’t like, he’s not here for the lectures. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ wii sports still outsells, he is not taking criticism or debate on this topic. ► favorite song ➔ magic in the hamptons by social house. ► favorite scent ➔ hot chocolate. ► favorite band/artist ➔ childish gambino. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the risk of being gay, wherever theo is. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. ► favorite word ➔ pack. he loves feeling loved, sue him. ► favorite meme ➔ kermit spreading his asshole. ► if they were an animal ➔ elephant. ► if they were a color ➔ orange; just on the cusp of happiness, but always holding back. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ hEY GUYS, i’m just really co–– really confused, ‘cause what does fall have to do with fuckboys 🧐🤔 ‘cause I’VE been fucking boys .... EVERY MONTH, winter, fucking februarymarchaprilmay, june, december... dULY ... *someone taps on the trunk of the car* *looks back* ...that’s my dad *frantic zoom-in* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ afterglow. ► aesthetic ➔ scar-littered skin and callused hands, abandoned hobbies and hopes and dreams, all stashed to the back of the infamous closet, dimples cheeked and optimistic eyes, high school jerseys folded in the drawer, letterman jackets treated like sacrosanct, the memory of when things were simpler and the rain didn’t last so long.  ► motto ➔ “this could be worse.” ► theme song ➔ clementine by halsey.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟕.     ›     derek alexander hale.
► hobbies ➔ book collecting. as their lives continue to not make sense, he collects books on any and every odd ‘myth’ out there and just waits for the day it comes in handy. ► social media handles ➔ lydia has made him dhale on everything, because he’s boring. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ very conventional. he now has a lock on every app in his phone, because fiona and lydia will happily break into his phone to change his contacts, if he’s not careful. ► favorite color ➔ black. ► favorite video game ➔ he doesn’t often play video games, but he will school these youngsters in a game of yahtzee! ► favorite song ➔ when doves cry by prince. ► favorite scent ➔ something baking in the oven. ► favorite band/artist ➔ prince. no, he is not talking about it. ► favorite place to be ➔ the hale house, when the entire pack is there. close second is the loft, when everyone is there. he’ll complain until he’s blue in the face, but everyone knows he’s secretly weak for that. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ no. ► favorite meme ➔ blinking white guy. ► if they were an animal ➔ i... a wolf. ► if they were a color ➔ tree bark brown; steady and stern and stable. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *standing at the bathroom door, glaring* if it breaks. one more time. don’t ––– shut your mouth. if it breaks while i’m sleeping, i will grab you by the neck and shove you down the shower drain. *continues to glare* ......... i’m going to take my shower now. *slowly and threateningly closes the door* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ daylight. ► aesthetic ➔ shattered handcuffs, ashes spread across the floor, delayed inhales and painful exhales, a pool of flowers at your feet ––– begin again. ► motto ➔ “no.” ► theme song ➔ sinnerman by nina simone.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟖.     ›     dominic joseph kim.
► hobbies ➔ yoga, meditation, brewery, skin and haircare routines, and swimming! a king stays busy. ► social media handles ➔ he’s domkimi on snapchat, instagram and twitter, but he’s baddiebbarbietingz on reddit. he has a tumblr account, but he refuses to tell the pack what his username is. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative. feel free to look through his phone, but good fucking luck figuring out who is who. ► favorite color ➔ gold. ► favorite video game ➔ sims 4. he gets the chance to actually build a sustainable life? with a family? in a house? with cheat codes? and love? and aliens? and lovers who become plants? sign him the fuck up. ► favorite song ➔ would you mind by prettymuch. good form by nicki minaj is a close runner-up. ‘cause he do, in fact, be the baddie b barbie tingz banging body b, everybody be on his d, cause he gotta be in reality–– ► favorite scent ➔ pizza! if it’s not good for you, why does it smell so good? make it make sense. ► favorite band/artist ➔ prettymuch. ► favorite place to be ➔ tate’s lab! it’s where he and owen do most of their brewing, aside from their field trips to the greenhouse to get more ingredients. it’s basically where dominic does his best and calmest work. close second is his own apartment, because he does yoga in the living room each morning. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ cecelia. ► favorite meme ➔ who said that.gif. ► if they were an animal ➔ a turtle! specifically, one of the turtles from finding nemo. ► if they were a color ➔ blue. calm and collected. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ so i said i’m a switch on tiktok, right ? and now all these ladies are comin’ out of the woodwork like, “hey, i got a strap-on and a dog collar with your name on it ! ” 😳😳 and i’m like... you put my name on it ? 😍👉👈  /// alternatively: theee necklace my boyfriend bought me just came in the mail *zoom in on necklace* ....I’M my boyfriend ! i bought this for myself ! EEE *excited grin* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ style. ► aesthetic ➔ the push and pull of a tidal wave, a dash of eyeliner here and a bit of mascara there, collared shirts and wrinkled jeans, overrated pop over a bluetooth speaker, a fascination with milkshakes and musicals, a heart that beats out of rhythm but never misses a step. ► motto ➔ “the birds work for the bourgeoisie.” ► theme song ➔ good thing by zedd and kehlani.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟗.     ›     elliot james aldridge.
► hobbies ➔ aside from his bathtub poetry and crime, he has revived his love of cooking and music. is masterful at the piano, guitar and harp, dabbles in cello and flute. he likes his music pretty, okay, sue him. ► social media handles ➔ redacted by the fcc. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ depends on how much he likes you! if you’re kosher, you get a creative name. if not... you get your own name. ► favorite color ➔ blood red. unironically. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s a poker man, but if he has to choose a video game, meet him in super smash brothers. ► favorite song ➔ say so by doja cat. ► favorite scent ➔ blood. ► favorite band/artist ➔ hozier. ► favorite place to be ➔ no offense, but the french quarter in new orleans. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ self-care. ► favorite meme ➔ why would you say something so controversial, yet so brave? ► if they were an animal ➔ hyena. one of the asshole ones from lion king. ► if they were a color ➔ red. he’s not hiding that. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’mnotfallingi’mnotfallingi’mnotfalling, i’m not f a l l i n g, i’m not FALLING, i’m not falling, i’m not falling, i’m not fALLING....... !! *deep breath* oKAY, i’m falling. /// alternative: the oNLY reason i have not destroyed the world is because i have not had ice cream in a while, i want some ice cream. but tRUST ME, when i get some ice cream ? your ass is grass and i’m the lawn mower ! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ ready for it? ► aesthetic ➔ a hoop of sterling silver, initials carved into dying trees, tempting eyes and a charming smile, cufflinks left on the nightstand, a prison cell and a funny story, top three buttons left undone, far too aware for his own damn good. ► motto ➔ "excuse me, i'm new in town and it gets worse." ► theme song ➔ sunlight by hozier.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟎.     ›     erica juliet reyes.
► hobbies ➔ tracking deucalion and peter, for one thing, but that’s more of a job than anything else. does raving count as a hobby? she’s officially taken up rock climbing, by the way. a huge slap in the face to her epilepsy. ► social media handles ➔ she changes her handles frequently, because she’s indecisive, she can’t decide–– but she’s currently reyofsunshine on everything. shoutout to fiona. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative and often explicit! ► favorite color ➔ sand brown, don’t @ her. ► favorite video game ➔ until dawn. understand the palm of my hand, bitch.... jesus hot sauce christmas cake.... what were you tweeting, hashtag there’s a freaking ghost after us? your fave could never! ► favorite song ➔ hot girl bummer by blackbear. ► favorite scent ➔ lucy or fee’s baking. she’ll come home just for that. ► favorite band/artist ➔ blackbear. ► favorite place to be ➔ at a party. she’s very into raves. ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ motherfucker. ► favorite meme ➔ respect the drip, karen. ► if they were an animal ➔ a horse. enticingly beautiful but will also kill you. ► if they were a color ➔ gold. not as pure as cora’s gold, but twice as inviting. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ all i’m gonna say is that i didn’t take ap classes in high school, escape the friend zone, graduate with honors, get cheated on, go to college, mentally deteriorate, become addicted to nicotine, sign a year lease, drop a sorority, fail chemistry and dye my hair purple, just to cry over the frat boy leaving me on read that smokes weed for breakfast, lunch and dinner 💁🏼 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ false god. ► aesthetic ➔ push-up bras covered in black lace, smeared lipstick against the bathroom mirror, jeans that leave nothing to the imagination, a wolf that lies in wait and fears no god, the epitome of poison. ► motto ➔ “meanwhile, back at the ranch...” ► theme song ➔ needed me by rihanna.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟏.     ›     fiona evelyn porter.
► hobbies ➔ baking, pinterest, cheer, volleyball and softball. truly depends on the season. ► social media handles ➔ feezypeezyporter stays true to her brand. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative! her contact ids are indecipherable, the only people who can understand them are katie and cass. dom gave up. ► favorite color ➔ light green and light pink! ► favorite video game ➔ beat saber! ► favorite song ➔ love again by carly rae jepsen. ► favorite scent ➔ is.... is it gay to say cass? ► favorite band/artist ➔ carly rae jepsen. ► favorite place to be ➔ the loft! it really is her happiest place. alternatively, wherever cass is, ‘cause that’s home, babey! ► favorite season ➔ spring! baby sticks to her brand. ► favorite word ➔ braggadocio. how on EARTH is that a real word? ► favorite meme ➔ let me see what you have. a kNIFE! NO! ► if they were an animal ➔ cardinal. ► if they were a color ➔ green. the color of grass, covering everything, everything, everything. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *crying and sipping tea* it... is ver .... very b... bold of you to assume ............. ! *pained smile*  /// alternatively: ONE OF YOU FAT BITCHES UNFOLLOWED ME !!! *manic laughter* i’m not mad, but like...... *climbs onto bathroom sink and leans in very close* what was the last straw ? ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ me! ► aesthetic ➔ bare lips passing over green leaves, a lullaby to a struggling orchid, spanks and sweat drops and a desperate need for approval, a digital scale blinking red numbers back at you, pills of white and blue and yellow, maybe tomorrow you’ll be happy again. ► motto ➔ “team work makes the dream work!” ► theme song ➔ work this out from the high school musical 2 soundtrack.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟐.     ›     hayden louisa romero.
► hobbies ➔ she has a love of sports. got into lacrosse before her imprisonment, though she was a little too fragile to play a real game. was a soccer star as a kid. also puts on glamour shows for the kids and the dogs, if they ask. ► social media handles ➔ she doesn’t have social media. imprisonment tingz. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. at best, you get an emoji or two at the end of your name. ► favorite color ➔ ocean blue. ► favorite video game ➔ will forever be weak for pokémon. ► favorite song ➔ 1985 by bowling for soup. timeless. ► favorite scent ➔ french vanilla. ► favorite band/artist ➔ she’s getting into melanie martinez. ► favorite place to be ➔ bias goes to being with the ito pack, but the preserve is pretty much paradise. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ covenant. ► favorite meme ➔ and i oop––– ► if they were an animal ➔ manta ray. harmless babey. ► if they were a color ➔ prism clear. a maze of reflections, but so fucking breakable. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ you mess with ME ? w ..... ! y...... ! *vague hand movements* you probably aren’t gonna experience any problems, because i’m afraid of confrontation !! /// alternative: *struggling to place lamp inside of another lamp* i JUST TOOK A TEN HOUR NAP ??? *panic* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ it’s nice to have a friend. ► aesthetic ➔ scars lifted among tanned skin, wary glances to read every room, crop tops floating above your belly, a lack of cares for a world that cares a little too much, marked skin and glossed lips, wanna make a deal with an angel? ► motto ➔ “my priority is me.” ► theme song ➔ i know by pink sweat$.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟑.     ›     judith wendy mayer-argent.
► hobbies ➔ biking! she does it primarily for work, but she also does it for fun. also, huge gamer. and protestor. baby keeps busy. ► social media handles ➔ mayerjude. she can make so many jokes out of her own last name, don’t tempt her. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ creative! unless it’s someone important or authoritative. then they get their own name. ► favorite color ➔ sunshine yellow. ► favorite video game ➔ fornite. ► favorite song ➔ sunday candy by donnie trumpet and the social experiment. ► favorite scent ➔ cupcakes! the frosting! the delicacy! ► favorite band/artist ➔ maroon 5. ► favorite place to be ➔ in the middle of a protest, rally or march. if she’s not in action, then what is she doing? ► favorite season ➔ spring. ► favorite word ➔ audit. ► favorite meme ➔ surprised pikachu. ► if they were an animal ➔ dolphin. ► if they were a color ➔ sunset orange. no, i will not elaborate. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *walking down the street* so we were peer reviewing papers in one of my classes aaaand this girl goes, “you use some FANCY LANGUAGE ! ” and i was like, “what word ? ” and she was like, “perpetuate.” .........on GOD, we gon’ get you a dictionary. ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ don’t blame me. ► aesthetic ➔ sunflowers pushing up from freshly dug graves, a smile away to keep the doctors away, sprained wrists wrapped in inappropriate laughter, bruised knuckles and black eyes, drink in hand, swinging your hips to that voicemail left by your toxic ex-boyfriend. ► motto ➔ “just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...” ► theme song ➔ modern love by david bowie.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟒.     ›     kali kaira laghari.
► hobbies ➔ knitting. she has abandoned all of her self-care and therapy ideals, now knits and talks to ghosts. mind ya business. ► social media handles ➔ she’s not on social media, either. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. she has no times for games. ► favorite color ➔ red. she’s a scorpio, what do you expect? ► favorite video game ➔ not to be controversial, but she’ll take mortal kombat any day. ► favorite song ➔ nintendo game by alessia cara. ► favorite scent ➔ tea! ► favorite band/artist ➔ alessia cara. ► favorite place to be ➔ aside from wherever rohan is, she prefers the bookstore. confrontations aside, it’s a very small space, quiet and relaxing. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ goddess. and yes, for exactly the reason you think. ► favorite meme ➔ as a treat. ► if they were an animal ➔ scorpion. ► if they were a color ➔ smoky grey. everything’s a little hazy with this one. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *staring at the food on the table, slowly losing her mind while everyone else argues over murder* *holds head in hands* *bangs hands on table repeatedly, screaming* WHAT ARE WE THANKFUL FOR !!! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ i did something bad. ► aesthetic ➔ cross-legged sitting in the middle of the road, waiting for a new thrill, fingertips grazing the harsh blade beneath your skirt, popcorn and wine with a man you could’ve loved if you were both a little less fucked up, a question that should never be answered, a world-view that should never be defiled –––– and you did it all. ► motto ➔ “i don’t need permission or advice; just help.” ► theme song ➔ simmer by hayley williams. you should see me in a crown by billie eilish.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟓.     ›     kira fuyuko yukimura.
► hobbies ➔ she trains to keep herself calm. often talks with her fox nowadays; she wants to build trust. and given that kira is doing fuck all to deal with her issues, she needs someone to talk to her. she and her fox get along a lot better these days. she also runs, practices lacrosse maneuvers on her own and plays with lightbulbs.  ► social media handles ➔ she’s a simple woman: kyuki. cut the fluff, cut the extraness. also, kyuki is what she’s named her fox.  ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, save for people who warrant a creative one. aka those whose names she doesn’t know. you would be surprised at how many there are. ► favorite color ➔ purple. ► favorite video game ➔ also a fan of animal crossing! ► favorite song ➔ ahead of myself by the ambassadors. ► favorite scent ➔ cinnamon. ► favorite band/artist ➔ the ambassadors. ► favorite place to be ➔ it’s dorky to say, but she likes being with her parents! they’re still in new york, so she doesn’t get that chance as much. however, her second favorite place to be is.... her bed. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. ► favorite word ➔ poppy. ► favorite meme ➔ guess i’ll die.png ► if they were an animal ➔ truly a fox. ► if they were a color ➔ steel blue. baby is electric. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i might be a BIG, DUMB, GAY BITCH ................ !! *smirks at camera* ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ cruel summer. ► aesthetic ➔ a thunderstorm in your bedroom, leather gloves pulled over dainty hands, quick footwork and sly gazes, untied shoe laces dragging across the floor, leggings beneath skirts, quiet meditation before bed, sharp teeth poking into bruised lips. ► motto ➔ “yeah, this isn’t weird at all.” ► theme song ➔ fall in line by christina aguilera and demi lovato.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟔.     ›     liam stephen dunbar.
► hobbies ➔ lacrosse no longer counts as a hobby, considering he made it his entire life. does training with allison count as a hobby? does texting gwen bad jokes count? ‘cause that’s all he does, my guy. ► social media handles ➔ he’s dvnbcr on everything. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, until fiona gets her hands on his phone and changes his ids again. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ he’s that guy who plays all of the 2k nba games. like, he has to stan. ► favorite song ➔ i don’t care by fall out boy. ► favorite scent ➔ turf. he’s a loser, what do you expect? ► favorite band/artist ➔ fall out boy and kendrick lamar are tied. ► favorite place to be ➔ the lacrosse field. he does not stray from his brand. ► favorite season ➔ autumn. lax season! ► favorite word ➔ shit. fuck is a close runner-up. ► favorite meme ➔ i’ve won.... but at what cost? ► if they were an animal ➔ rhinoceros.  ► if they were a color ➔ gray; that perfect intersection between white and black, good and bad, wolf and bomb. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *talking to his mom while she’s watching tv.* hey, mom? will you pause that? you know that guy i’m talking to is 6′4″? can’t wait to get my shit wrecked. so you are a bottom. ...wait. okay, i.... that’s not what you’re supposed to say! what am i supposed to say? don’t –– not that! *goes to sit next to her* i’m 👏 not 👏 a 👏 bottom 👏. bullshit. *confused look of betrayal* is this legal? have you ever done anything for anybody else? no, you’re a taker. /// alternatively: *trying to start a fire* hope so ! you gonna let the fire breathe or you gonna fuckin’ suffocate it ? i will end your goddamn short ass piece of shit useless life. ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ this is why we can’t have nice things. ► aesthetic ➔ a rage that you can never quite tame, hand broken from too many punches, the green of fresh cut grass, car mileage piling up, miles and miles and miles left to go, bashful smiles and reddened skin. kid, you’re not nearly as bad as you think you are. ► motto ➔ “i blame scott.” ► theme song ➔ dr. whoever by aminé.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟕.     ›     lydia charlene martin.
► hobbies ➔ sewing clothes, throwing parties, picking up new languages, ruling the world, saving this pack from falling apart, doing everything in this goddamn house! ► social media handles ➔ queenlydia, but who’s surprised? ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ convention meets creativity in lydia’s phone. everyone has their first name, with a lord/lady/duke/duchess/etc. attached to it. jackson is the only one with king, obviously. you know you’re in trouble when she attaches peasant to your name. good luck climbing your way back up the ladder. ► favorite color ➔ pink. ► favorite video game ➔ not to be controversial, but dead by daylight is that bitch. ► favorite song ➔ honey by kesha. ► favorite scent ➔ strawberries. ► favorite band/artist ➔ kesha. ► favorite place to be ➔ in jackson’s arms, she is not taking that back. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ throne and jackson are tied. ► favorite meme ➔ why are you booing me? i’m right! ► if they were an animal ➔ swan. ► if they were a color ➔ purple. royalty is not a game, kids. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ not a vine or tiktok, but yes, it’s me 💅🏽 & you guys are mad about it ohmygod i make y’all feel that 🤢 well, i just wanted to pop up here & show y'all how i'm doing ! i'm doing great. i'm looking great, i'm feeling great, y'know 💇🏽 i'm obviously over here very booked & busy, while you bitches over here are still looking raggedy & not doing shit ! hahaha ! WOW ! 💁🏽 but anyway, um, i just wanted to let y'all know i'm not going anywhere. so talk your shit, you shitholes ! you can't defeat a bad bitch ! you just cannot do that ! i rise above that ! EW 🤮 so i just wanted to say hey ! & that i'm here to stayyy ! & you gon' be mad everydayyy ! HAHAHA ! SUCCESS ! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ paper rings. ► aesthetic ➔ a crown that fits just perfect, newly manicured nails, breakfasts at tiffany’s and on decorated balconies, the picture on the altar, damp curls and loose braids, tight dresses and sinful heels, brave but never fearless. ► motto ➔ “i’m lydia fucking martin.” ► theme song ➔ okay, okay by alessia cara.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟖.     ›     scott lucas mccall.
► hobbies ➔ video games! he also likes helping the pack renovate whenever they decide to. though he has put fiona on a limit. after she redesigned her room five times in two weeks, he finally had to put his foot down. ► social media handles ➔ he is the most disorganized of the bunch. he’s scootermccall on snapchat, scottymccall on instagram, scotthewmccall on twitter because he’s weak for whatever fiona asks. it’s a mess, but he’s not changing. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional, but with lots of emojis to show he cares. ► favorite color ➔ red. ► favorite video game ➔ he wants to say mario kart, because that’s his and lucy’s thing and, um, he’s in love with her. but other than that! life is strange. he hasn’t figured out how to win yet, but gosh dammit, that’s not going to stop him from trying.  ► favorite song ➔ dna by lia marie johnson. ► favorite scent ➔ lucy’s perfume! ► favorite band/artist ➔ panic! at the disco. ► favorite place to be ➔ at the vet! he’s so happy when he’s around animals and it feels good to know that he’s helping these animals get better? ► favorite season ➔ summer. ► favorite word ➔ lucy. ► favorite meme ➔ i’ll be honest, i can’t read. ► if they were an animal ➔ golden retriever. ► if they were a color ➔ yellow. speaks for itself. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ i had an essay that was due at 11:59. instead of being a smart, responsible student, i decided to wait until 11:40 .... to START my essay. i finished the essay on time. but the gag is............. it was a five-page essay. and i got it done in sixteen minutes. *dancing* they gon’ hate me regardless, that’s why i do what i do ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ state of grace. ► aesthetic ➔ a lighthouse drawing in the lost, the open door of a sunken ship, wrongly buttoned plaid shirts, clumsy fingers and stumbling feet, saddened eyes that follow healing hands, the suspension of disbelief ––– whatever that means. ► motto ➔ “everything will work out!” ► theme song ➔ only the young by taylor swift.
𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟗.     ›     tatum coretta bellfleur.
► hobbies ➔ nanotech mechanics! she learned as a way to make things for owen and amari that they couldn’t afford to buy. won a few competitions, got a few scholarships, got into programs that taught her how to do greater things than she’d ever imagined. took up baton twirling at devenford, but gave it up when she got to college. fiona is trying to convince her take it up again next year. ► social media handles ➔ she’s tatertot on everything, courtesy of one judith mayer. ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. keep it simple, thanks. ► favorite color ➔ silver! it’s so pretty. ► favorite video game ➔ death stranding. no, she will not elaborate. ► favorite song ➔ mo money mo problems by notorious b.i.g.  ► favorite scent ➔ flowers! ► favorite band/artist ➔ tupac. yes, she is that bitch. ► favorite place to be ➔ her lab. ► favorite season ➔ winter. ► favorite word ➔ free. ► favorite meme ➔ you know i had to do it to ‘em. ► if they were an animal ➔ doe. ► if they were a color ➔ white. no matter how much she hates being protected, she’s the picture of purity. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ *sitting in front of a mirror.* maybe.......... i’m the problem 🤨 ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ out of the woods. ► aesthetic ➔ a blanket of snow covering the grime and pain of yesterday, contained explosions and soft humming, tight ponytails breaking cheap rubber bands, tongue poking out the side of your mouth, the sun peeking through the slits of your blinds, wondering where you’ve been these last couple’a days. ► motto ➔ “i’ve lived through this before, i’ll live through it again.” ► theme song ➔ 100 years by florence and the machine.
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lovemariannexox · 4 years
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Letters on the walls
A short story by Marianne
“Whabb are you doin?” The girl asked her sister with a mouth full of toothpaste foam.
“The damn creatures buried their way into my foot again so I’m tryna get them out”. She answered. The girl watched her sister wearily.
“Wibb a pair of scisthors?” 
“Yeah they were the closest thing I could-” she finally managed to extract the creature from its root in her foot. The sister gasped at the size of the wriggling black parasite. It writhed in her grasp, splattering blood all over the wooden floor. The girl felt bile rising to her throat. She averted her eyes from that side of the bathroom, spat the most of the minty foam into the sink, replaced her toothbrush, and hurried out the door. 
Her room was the most cluttered, colourful place you could find in the house. Tapestries embroidered with intricate mandala patterns, deep purples and many shades of blue, lined the walls. Every space was accounted for, if not by a tapestry then by a poster depicting planetary alignments, a calendar, red with sweeping golden characters or a painting from centuries passed or years to come. Persian rugs of different shapes and sizes were scattered about the place. Most on the floor, but some were draped over furniture too. The patterns on these carpets were geometric, the fabric mostly red. The furniture in the room seemed to be arranged haphazardly. Most surfaces were hidden under piles of books, figurines of elephants and snakes and ornaments.  Incense burned amongst sets of tubes, vials, and bottles both empty and filled with bizarre concoctions. One large bottle contained a goldfish, and in another grew a venus fly trap. From the ceiling hung numerous dream catchers that spun, wind chimes that chimed, and thousands of rustling charms: herbs, jade stones, and red mushrooms speckled with white dots hung in bags among miniature globes revolving around each other, suspended by an invisible force. Horns, dried flowers and clovers seemed to be stuck to the ceiling. And rings hung in chains like paper decor, some gold, some silver, and speckled with precious stones. 
The most occurring object in the girl’s room would have to be the candles. Each different from the next, but all were lit with a blue flame that wriggled and danced. Perhaps it was a miracle the room hadn’t been burnt to ruins. Perhaps it was magic.
The girl picked her way across the room to find her bed. She cosied herself into the middle, her back against the wall, and righted her posture. Her legs were crossed, her hands rested on her knees, and her palms faced the ceiling. She closed her eyes. 
In her left palm, a blue flame appeared. It danced excitedly, moving to the steady rhythm of the girl’s heartbeat. As she deepened her concentration, the flame slowed. 
If you looked carefully at the little flame, it looked like a being of its own kind. Its chest heaved in time with the girls. Slowly, but steadily, the dream catchers stopped their spinning, the wind chimes stopped their chiming, and the charms stopped their rustling. All except for one. 
In the corner, next to the beaded curtain that hid her bathing quarters from view, the tiniest bell was tinkling. The girl opened one eye to locate the sound. 
She smiled “Hello Minerva.”
The beaded curtain parted to reveal a girl, her face mostly obscured by a massive horned helmet, lying in the turquoise tiled bathtub. She steps briskly out of the bathtub removing her helmet which reveals a very squashed head of curls. She grins.
“Iris” she replies with a nod. Minerva takes a moment to drink in the details of the girl’s room. Her eyes sweep across the furniture and ceiling. “I like what you’ve done with the place. I have always wondered where you find your decorations.” she whizzes around the room giving herself a hasty tour. She peers into the vials, picks up various ornaments before replacing them, and flicks a couple of dream catchers out of her way as she goes along. 
The girl watches her quietly from her position on the bed.
“It’s been a while hasn’t it? I assume the rest of the house hasn’t changed since I was last here.” 
Minerva begins flipping through a book before moving on to the next and discarding that one too. A tapestry seems to catch her eye. “I remember this one! This must have been the first one you owned.” She fingers the stitching delicately, following the pattern round and round. “It still makes me dizzy.” She smiles. 
“I thought you were gone.” 
Minerva continues her rampage across the room, touching everything she sees and moving anything and everything capable of being moved. Her speech becomes more rapid. “Ahh! I used to love these globes. Aren’t they the coolest? I was so jealous and I wished I could have one. I like the horns, they remind me of my helmet see?” She lifts up her helmet and compares it with the horn on the ceiling, staring at the girl with a demented grin. 
“I thought you were gone for good.”
Minerva begins looking through the vials and tubes “You and your potions. I swear half of this is just homoeopathy.” She pauses and looks back at the girl. “You know I never really understood all your magic. Well, I guess that’s just me isn’t it? Can’t teach me anything.” She browses through an old cupboard her hand floating over one shelf. “I just need to grab a healing potion if you don’t mind.” She peers into each separate tube. Minerva’s hand stops above one containing an opal coloured liquid. “What’s this?” She extracts it carefully from its place on the shelf and peers into the tube. Her eyes widen. “I think we should try this one. Take a trip down memory lane. eh?” as she turns to look at the girl, a dagger flies through the air. The dagger pierces the tube and it shatters. The shards of glass fall to the ground and the dagger lands bang in the middle of one of the mandala patterns. 
“Bullseye” Minerva whispers.
“I thought you weren’t coming back.” 
“Well I’m here now aren’t I?” Minerva replies plainly. She sighs and looks at the girl properly holding her gaze. She a glowing blue light coming from the right side of the girl’s chest. Minerva approaches the bed warily as if she’s not sure if she’s allowed to touch it or not. The girl provides no input, so slowly, she sits. She takes the girls hand in hers. “I’m sorry.” 
The girl tenses, screwing up her face. She lets out a heavy breath. The candles around her begin to stir. They wiggle about freely as if released from a spell. Then, each glob of flame detaches from each respective candlewick and begins to cross the room. Minerva watches enchanted as the globs evolve into little fire beings. They march in lines from all directions towards the bed, forming a sun-like pattern. They crawl up the furniture and leap onto the bed. The first fire being to meet Minerva hesitates. It looks up at the girl inquiringly. She gives it a nod and smiles, granting its permission. The fire being prods Minerva with an outstretched limb, she looks at it curiously. Seeing no ill effects, the fire being leaps onto her and the others quickly follow suit. Minerva laughs in surprise. “It tickles!” she exclaims wriggling around. The girl simply smiles, watching. Minerva begins to interact with the fire beings and they start to play with her. She tries to catch them but they run away from her, sliding down her tattooed skin. She laughs and laughs. The girl wipes away a tear, unnoticed. After a little while, the beings seem to be getting sleepy. Gathering them together, the girl tucks some of them into her clothes and pockets. She leaves the rest to Minerva who lets them find comfort where they please: on her shoulders, in her hair, in the nook behind her collar bone, on her stomach. The girl and Minerva lie next to each other. All is still except a few of the charms which rustle quietly. Eventually, when the girl falls asleep, all is silent. 
Minerva awakens the next morning to find herself alone with the girl. Their legs are tangled and the fire beings are gone. Minerva moves slowly, as to not wake the girl. Silently, she begins tracing her finger over the furniture, the walls, and the ceiling as if performing some kind of ritual memorised to the last detail. “Iris” she whispers. She then takes the opal coloured potion and places the helmet over her head. Minerva disappears from the girl’s room.
Later, the girl opens her eyes. She sits up abruptly. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, and she stares around her room astonished. Her sister comes into her room. “What is it?! What’s wrong?” she looks around perplexed. 
“Can’t you see it? The walls, the furniture…” the girl struggles to speak her voice catching in her throat. She rubs her eyes and looks again.
Minerva had written sonnets over everything. Poems, secrets shared between them, and lines and lines of dialogue, each from a different moment they had spent together. The writing could only be for her to see. The girl reads over everything hurriedly, suppressing a sob. She jumps up from her bed and begins tracing her finger over each word, crying tears of bittersweet joy and melancholy. Her sister stares in shock and then turns to head back the way she came. The girl doesn’t seem to notice. 
Minerva had written her letters on the walls, and she couldn’t take her eyes off them.
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sinunamor · 5 years
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An @aphsecretsanta gift for @52px !! Sorry about the late submission! Happy New Year!
Pairing: Ancient Rome x China (romechu)
Prompt: Long distance relationship, modern au
I do not celebrate Christmas, but I have an online friend who does.
Warmth seeped through his porcelain mug. Tired, lithe fingers curled around its smooth surface. A gentle press of lips, a small careful sip and the warmth spread through his chest. The morning fog rolled over the cluttered streets of San Francisco. His window presented him a view of Chinatown rising. Mr. Huang sweeping the front of his herbal shop, Ms. Zhou flicking on a neon light reading “welcome” and a “Merry Christmas” in English and pinyin for her bakery. Around them, the Christmas lights, candy canes and snowflakes signaled the end of another year.
He sighed heavily after the sensation passed, shuffling in his slippers towards the desk stationed in front of his window. Picture frames and assorted souvenir figurines decorated the corners of the mahogany desk. One frame pulled a little closer to his laptop than the rest. Wrinkled brown eyes flickered towards that wide spread of lips, those impossibly straight teeth, that youthful glint of mischief in his eyes. He sat back of the chair and took another sip. Jasmine green tea. The warm herbal scent carried many memories. He set the mug down carefully next to the frame and opened the laptop. He’ll enjoy the view better here. It must be nighttime in Italy.
***
He is the festive sort, that does not surprise me. He finds comfort in the company of others. He would send me photographs, selfies, of his travels and home in Italy. His apartment was so little, such home would be filled with many guests, neighbors, young and old. And he, the center of it all. I wonder if he would enjoy celebrating Lunar New Year with me. He’d enjoy the noise. It would be nice to see him happy.
***
He was half expecting it, Romulo wasn’t online. They did stay up particularly late last night chatting about Christmas plans in broken english and the occasional Italian. Yao briefly looked over last night’s exchange.
RV: nd you? you would be spending Christmas alone?
WY: Alone, yes, i’ll vidchat with Chen and his family...you? You would be throwing a ball
RV: Haha not this year. Decided to keep it small Just me nd my boys and my boys boys’ nd my little girl
WY: very small party so unlike you, i’m Concerned
RV: now you know how i feel!! Im always concerned when i hear you spend holidays alone
WY: i’m alright
RV: i know, i jus wish i can go over there nd spend it with you :(
I haven’t felt my heart pulse an ache in a long while. I do wish that could happen, but there is a half a world between us.
***
My name is Wang Yao, I have seen 48 springs pass me by. 48 years of hardships, blessings and everything in between. I have one son, of which I am very proud. Chen is his name, stayed in China and started his life there. He has his mother’s adventurous spirit, he attended San Francisco State. I admit, he was part of the reason why I came to California at all, but I suppose fathers are mostly protective of their children. While he studied, I was the roommate that cooked for him. But I understood fully that sons needed to make life without their fathers. When time and he graduated with a degree in Travel and Tourism, he and his then girlfriend moved back to the mainland.
So mostly, I was alone. I was too old to fully appreciate the costal nightlife and too young to play mahjong with the elders in the afternoons. An unfortunate generational circumstance of a part-time professor whose social life revolved around attending tai chi group in the mornings, afternoon chats with storefront owners and a dull lecture or two in Mandarin in the evenings.
My son worried for me. He does not see as old, he wanted me to find a friend, a “someone” as he put it, with whom to share interests and hobbies with. To attend events and explore San Francisco for no reason other than to have carefree fun.
***
“It sounds like you want me to find you another mother,” Yao joked over video chat one night.
His eldest son, Chen, laughed heartily. On his lap, an 8 month old daughter gurgling happily and wiggled closer towards the phone lens. Yao was very happy he managed a screenshot of her rosy cheeked face.
“Any partner will do,” Chen teased back. “Your children know you were never particular to any sort.”
Yao let out a frustrated sound, his hand twitched as if he could really swat his son a Pacific Ocean away. “You speak without saying anything!” he reprimanded, holding a glint in his eye.
“We just have your best interests in mind,” Chen smiled. “Ay baba, there are how many people in this world and you cannot befriend one?”
“Well, give me a phonebook of all the people in this world and I shall start inquiring,” Yao half-scoffed.
Chen pursed his lips, his baby babbling, “Yi yi yi!”. Yao cooed and sang at her, wanting so much to reach out and hold her.
“How about a forum instead?”
***
And that was how I met him. The world forum website. Chen had discovered its existence through one boring weekend spent on his school campus. It was a language learning forum but it was no secret that it also served as a dating site as it had the option to state that one was looking for a romantic relationship.
Of course what I had to offer was Mandarin, a fluent grasp on English, and some Cantonese. Yet, I did not feel like connecting with people from the mainland or the United States. The forum listed many, even unheard of languages, but none that held my interest for long. I wanted something simple yet unique, something uncommon but had a significant influence throughout human history.
I remember reading “Italian” and remembering how at one point in my life was enamored with the history of the small Mediterranean peninsula. Of all its accomplishments and failures, the dialects, the influence on art and politics. Of all the love and admiration for Italy as a whole.
It felt childish at first, but I was soon focused solely on the Italian threads, trying to start conversations with others within my age range. It was frustrating to find that it was never as easy as it sounded. Some seemed unreachable or plain dull and there was a great imbalance sent to my inbox from men than women. At first it was amusing, sending them off with an “Thank you for your kind compliments, as a man, I am very flattered” but as I was weeding out the active few with other intentions, there was not much left. I was soon logging in less and ignoring the few notifications I receive over the span of the week.
Until a “ciao bella ;)” reached me.
I do not know what intrigued me, it was not much different from the others that were sent and ignored. Perhaps I was in a good mood, perhaps I was in fact in a very bad one. Perhaps his profile did lure me in, as he claims to this day, but I responded:
“Wrong gender, it would be ‘bello’ not ‘bella’”.
Not even a minute passed before my computer alerted me of a new message.
“ciao bello ;)”
***
His name is Romolo Vargas and he is 4 years my junior. He wants to see the world, and he has been in half of it. He has 3 children, two sons and one daughter of which he is very proud. Unlike me, he is divorced and was spending his free time going to places he had longed to go as a child. He has been to Greece and Thailand, France and Estonia, countries whose name I cannot begin to pronounce. At first, I had thought I was an outlet for him to brag about his travels, about the women he wooed, but then he was always asking about what I done, how my day went, and how I felt. As if I was the most interesting man in the world.
Then the first Christmas came and he was insistent on sending me a gift.
***
“Baba, we are glad you found that friend,” Chen said over the phone. “But you never know this man’s true intentions. How do we even know a Romolo Vargas exists?”
“I’m well aware,” Yao muttered, feeling a tinge of annoyance course through him. “I’ll admit he’s a little flirty, but he never gave me reason to doubt his sincerity.”
“It hurts me to say this, truly it does,” Chen muttered. “But what if Romolo is just leading you on? What if this is a game that he plays?”
“On older men and women? Yes, I know,” Yao frowned, his tone a little harsher than intended. “Thought you had said I wasn’t that old to begin with.”
***
They would never understand the late-night conversations I had, of philosophy and bao recipes. While he was rising, I was preparing for sleep. We managed a balance of work and chat. We began to send each other pictures, photographs of our homes, what we see throughout our day and ourselves. There was never pressure or qualm to keep our discussions going, we just carried on naturally.
Then Chen suggested I should get a P.O. box instead. Bright boy.
His first Christmas gift was a small painted black rooster from Portugal, a few collected postcards from previous travels and a 3 page handwritten letter explaining the story of the little rooster, of his New Year plans and his gratitude of meeting me. I never felt so close and intimate to him before. I felt young again.
We carried on, occasionally sending each other trinkets and tokens of a blossoming friendship. I sent him tea leaves, recipes, inkstones and brushes, a book on tai chi and bonsai training. Soon my bamboo plant and bonsai pot was inhabited with little figurines from the entirety of Europe and western Asia.
The next Christmas we gifted each other the trust of each other’s phone numbers. The first video chat on our phones. When we saw each other on our screens, we laughed.
***
“I’m telling you, you look younger than you say you are! Are you sure you 46?” Romolo grinned. His backdrop was his gardens overlooking the coast. His curls, touched with glints of silver and gold lightly kissed his flushed cheeks from a chilled breeze.
“The sunlight suits you,” Yao admitted without another thought.
A soft, silent smile. Yao felt his heart caught in his throat.
“And I bet you capture it beautifully with your eyes,” Romolo muttered.
Yao wanted to hide behind his sleeve like a flustered schoolgirl. It was a sincere compliment, nothing that implied a growing love for him, no matter how he wished for it to be true.
***
This Christmas would be no different. We had agreed on only sending each other a letter as we haven’t been writing to each other lately. Yet, I had sent his favorite box of tea along with a translated poem I wrote in simplified pinyin. A silly little poem about the love of two birds on seperate nests with a grand river in between, using the strengths of their songs to communicate in new echoing melodies. He always expressed his admiration for Chinese calligraphy. I wonder what he will think of the poem. I wonder if he’ll attempt to read the characters himself before reading the translated bits.
I wasn’t so sure Romolo was going to send me something as well but I did not want to anticipate a gift. I’d prefer to be pleasantly surprised.
***
Yao opened another tab on his computer to check on his email, the local news and weather. Another chilly day as expected in San Francisco Bay. He silently debated going out to pick up groceries at the local market. He already gave himself a bread by sleeping in and missing his Tai Chi session. He stretched his lower back until he felt relieving pops. He sighed heavily, eyeing the little black Portuguese rooster. He reached out to grab it from its place between a figurine of the Roman Colosseum and a windmill figurine from the Netherlands. Yao smiled, running his thumb over the painted wing. The shine was mostly gone, but the sentimental par of him will forever remember the first intimate contact they had with one another. Gingerly, he placed “Little Romolo” back in its place, and stood up to make a light breakfast.
The lone click of chopsticks and the drone of a Chinese reporter from a streamed video on his phone were the only sounds disturbing the calm silence of his studio apartment. The cloud filtered sunlight bled through the curtains, casting greyer shadows in the dimly lit corner of his dining area. Yao rested his head on the heel of his palm, his leg crossed over the other, softly flapping his slipper against his heel. It would be nice to share the silence with Romolo. The reporter’s voice would be replaced with that of his low rumbling chuckles and gentle teases.
Yao’s lips curled up in a soft smile. Christmas would be lonelier this year.
He perked up to the sound of his phone buzzing to life. He turned his attention back to his phone and felt his heart leap. It was a message from Romolo.
RV: check yor PO box >:)
His lips spread into a wider grin. Of course the fool sent him something anyway.
Yao lightly brushed his hair and slipped into a light jacket, scarf and boots. He locked the door behind him with a an eager well-meaning click.
He strode down the hills with purpose. Simple, passing thoughts went through him. What if he gotten him a much larger present? A more expensive one? A painting? Yao chuckled at the thought. Romolo was more than capable for pulling such a stunt.
As expected, the post office was moderately busy. People in hoodies, beanies, scarves and the like made lines to send last minute gifts. Yao made his way towards his box, a small sized thing yet perfect for letters and small paintings.
Something caught his eye. His P.O. box had a note on it. Yao furrowed his brow and neared it. The note was in flowy cursive so he took some time to decipher what it said.
Look behind you <3
Yao’s eyes widened, turning around slowly before his gaze focused on a man that no longer blended with the crowd. That spread of lips revealing impossibly straight teeth and a youthful glint of mischief in his eyes. His brown curls stuffed under a beanie, still showing glints of gold and silver. A spread of lips so handsome, it made joyous wrinkles appear around his eyes.
“Romolo?” Yao whispered.
Romolo nodded.
Yao rushed into the man’s open arms, earning the stares of a few curious strangers.
It was him, physically, it was his scent, his arms, his hair, his breath. His voice. “Merry Christmas,” he muttered, wrapping his arms tightly around him in turn.
He must be dreaming.
***
“So I have my hotel room and everything, don’t worry!” Romolo explained quickly, his arms moving about the more he got excited. Yao found it endearing. They had stopped by a bakery to grab a sweet bread to commemorate the moment.
“I realize how it might have been an inconvenience for you, or perhaps,” Romolo chuckled nervously. Yao noted he looked a little older than he last saw him on video chat. He must be jet lagged. “A little strange since I did not tell you beforehand, er, outright.”
“It is a surprise,” Yao said. “But a welcomed one.”
Romolo nodded, his shoulders laxing in relief.
“How long will you be staying for?” Yao asked.
“A week,” Romolo sighed, placing his hands on the table. “I cannot stay out for too long during the holidays.”
Yao felt a hint of disappointment. There was no possible way Romolo will be back in time for Lunar New Year.
Yao eyed his hands and made the first hesitant slow reach for Romolo. Perhaps if he did not stretch it too far, he could pretend he was stretching his arm.
But he felt his fingers get caught. Pale, longer fingers were soon in between darker, thicker ones. They did not say a word, their touch molded around each other, feeling every callous and muscle. The strength of their knuckles and the softness of their pads. Romolo smiled softly at Yao, it wasn’t flirty nor teasing. Sincere. Like they have done this before.
“I’m glad,” Yao muttered.
He’ll save up to surprise him for next Christmas.
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dreamtimeagain · 3 years
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I had only come into the office as a favor. My old boss needed some files and I was the only one who could find them. The desk was broad and silvery grey and propped in the corner of a room with deep blue painted walls. His desk was next to mine and he typed frantically on his silver keyboard as I searched. Click. Click. Click.
The phone rang over and over as we worked, each time he would stop what he was working on and, with a sigh of frustration, answer. The events people kept him busy. Too busy for his advanced years, but that wasn't my business anymore. And that's what I told everyone who stopped by to see me as they handed me their welcome back gifts, small lego kits in crinkled baggies.
The sales reps had noticed when I hadn't come back to work, and even some of the other office drones were happy to see me again. Their smiling faces, lego gifts, and half-assed attempts at small talk before jumping into asking me for favors, was kind of comforting. A return to normal.
But I wasn't employed here anymore I explained again and again. Boss was overworked and underappreciated and I was only in for the day to help because he asked. He was good to me when I worked here, it was the least I could do, and could you please leave so I can finish and go home? Thanks. Yes, it was good to see you again, thanks!
The files were finished and he was again stuck on another phone call, so I swept up all of the tiny lego pieces on the desk. Why did everyone insist on handing me kits with tiny pieces? Such a pain to clean up. As my hand brushed across the smooth silvered desk, the legos got mixed with other debris. Mostly little grey bits of plastic and dust. I tried to pick the legos out of the piles as someone from sales walked up to let me know it was their turn to use the computer.
I tried to speed up the process, picking legos out of the pile and sweeping up the grey dust and debris, but the mess kept getting bigger and bigger. Finally I realized that this was pointless as the legos and dust could be sorted later, so I just shoved it all into a bag and stood up to leave.
At that moment, my old boss got off his last phone call and turned to look at me, his short grey hair and pale face glowed in the light from his screen. He smiled with a smile that screamed for a vacation somewhere tropical and asked if I would join him at the evening's event, some kind of fancy party for all the bigwigs to rub elbows and pat themselves on the back.
I never got to go to any of the events before, at least not the ones that mattered, so I agreed. As we left the dark room behind, we were immediately in the foyer of a mansion, burnt umber wood paneling waxed to a high shine lined every wall and floor, and party voices echoed from outside.
He walked with a quick and steady pace, his long straight legs always made me struggle to keep up, but today I didn't care. I strolled to the back garden at my own pace as my old boss disappeared into the crowd, intent on making his presence known to those who cared so he could go home without consequence.
I walked along, my boots sinking into the deeply plush grass, the whole place filled with people in cocktail attire and floating lights and lanterns. Everyone here was so full of their own self importance, caring only about making sure the others around them knew the right names when the money started moving later.
I watched, disconnected from the throng of self-importance and enjoyed the crisp night air, and the dewy gras beneath my heels, letting the tinny music fill my ears. Somehow I found a champagne glass in my hand and took a sip. Always too bitter, but you drank it anyway. Had to make sure everyone thought you were just like them after all.
Then the boss was back, looking much happier than before. He asked if I would like that ride home, and if I had enjoyed myself. I didn't have to pretend to care about their sales pitches, so I actually enjoyed myself for once, and told him so. He smiled warmly and we left the crowds behind.
As we walked to his SUV, he asked if I wouldn't mind stopping by his house on the way home, as he needed to pick up something for his daughter. I had nothing better to do, so why not? And we walked up to his door, just like that, the rich brick facade shone in the daylight.
He opened the door and beckoned me in to his crowded little living room. With a distracted wave he introduced me to his youngest daughter, a quiet woman with mousey brown hair and a sweet smile. She nodded at me amicably and returned to her book.
His living room had large reddish brown overstuffed chairs and a fireplace that looked like it had never been cleaned since it was built. But what was most striking about the room was that every surface and wall was covered in glass. Not panes or shards, but art and sculptures. There were small figurines and large twisted blobs hanging from the celling, stained glass paintings and colored bottles. Every corner stuffed with glistening knickknacks and stunning artworks.
The glass collection had alot of reds and gold and oranges. Some had a pearlescent sheen and others opaque or patterned, but mostly warm colors. The light from the windows shone and sparkled from every corner. Then I noticed that the room was bigger than I thought, stretching off into the distance, 100 feet or more. His house was way bigger than I expected.
But then again, he had been working his whole life for everything he had. I couldn't expect him to understand how much harder it was these days. His living room alone was so much bigger than where I lived. And suddenly I felt sad, small, left behind and unwanted. I let him know that I was going home, and walked out.
Home was a double wide trailer. Decrepit and falling apart. The carpet was thin and torn while the wallpaper peeled away to show the cheap plastic siding underneath. I hated this place, but it was 'home'. Wasn't it? There was no furniture, or really anything at all. Just a empty dusty room. I didn't want to be there, but I had to go to the restroom.
Even the bathroom was pathetic. The room was small, with no door, and the walls were rusted and flecked with scraps of old paint. With dismay I noticed that the toilet was gone, stolen again I'm sure, and all that was left was a small rusty pipe sticking out of the floor.
Well I'd peed in worse places, so I was going to do my business and leave, but suddenly a pipe in the wall burst, streams of water tearing through and soaking me to the skin. It was shockingly cold and I shivered as I tried to step around the quickly forming puddle and leave.
At the doorway stood a woman, heavyset and in her 50's. Her dark hair framed face twisted into a scowl as she put her hands on her hips. She looked so disapprovingly at me, and I could see the bags under her cold stare. I felt like I had messed up again somehow, which she confirmed when she spoke to me.
Are you finished yet? We don't have time to sit here and watch you fail!
...then I woke up.
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Beautiful Homes of Instagram Beautiful Homes of Instagram is one of Home Bunch‘s most popular series because it not only shows how homeowners design their own home but also because it shares a variety of styles. Today, I am very happy to have Heather Strommen from @SweetShadyLane. I’ve loved her historic lakehouse for some time now and her timeless way to design her home always leaves me inspired to say the least. Today you will get to know about Heather and all of the details of this special home. She is sharing all details, from paint colors to the story of her home under each picture. Let this house tour transport you… Beautiful Homes of Instagram “Mona Bina – Home For All” was built in 1937. We purchased her in 2014 only hours after walking through for the very first time. We hired Landschute to lovingly restore her to her previous glory. Funny thing was, we were looking for a new house, but her charm could not be ignored. We fell in love immediately. Architecture Our builder, Jon Monson is notorious for restoring old homes. Where most people may have seen a “tear down” we, along with Jon saw potential. Lake side details of Mona Bina: Diamond windows, lattice railing, beautiful stone steps. In her full lakeside glory… She is truly something to behold. Lake Lake Minnetonka. Welcome! Living on a lake is like living with living art. The time of day, the light, the clouds, the sailboats that drift by… Every minute of everyday day is different and beautiful in its own way. Here, Dorothy and Buster our English Bulldogs are enjoying the “golden hour” on the lake as the sun is just setting. Front Door That first visit with the realtor, I opened the front door and I felt like I had opened it a thousand times. It was an explainable feeling. The new, expansive front door is painted Benjamin Moore. The anchor door knocker is from Nantucket. Rug is from International Market Square “Sale Room” (open to public.) Just steps away, visitors are greeted with Landschute’s magnificent work-coffered ceilings, wood panels, intricate moldings and details upon details as Lake Minnetonka and all its beauty beckons you in. Entry I love to move things around. Pictured here is an antique table of my Grandmother’s. I love the simplicity of just the table against the bare floor. I call this one “the ladies and the ducks.” I’m slightly obsessed with myrtle topiaries (as you can see) and any and all brass figurines. Wood floors are Du Chateau-walnut with an oil stain. Antique wood sconces by Landschute Builders private collection. Paint color is Dove White by Benjamin Moore Foyer Bench Spindle bench is from Francis King showroom. Cushion in Schumacher plaid. Grandfather clock is an antique. Timeless Another view with a change in furniture. I love to pull the rugs up so I can see the beautiful detail in the wood flooring. Pine dresser is an antique, but I have found similar at English Traditions in Naples, FL. Brass hurricane lamp from Homegoods (similar here & here), Brass lamp from an estate sale (similar). Custom mirror by The Great Frame Up. I love mixing in old and new lighting ! Antique wood sconce is from Landschute’s private collection. Living Room The living room is one of my favorite rooms. The coffered ceiling and soft colors in the fabrics along with the southern facing windows leads to a soothing experience. Chairs are A. Rudin and I adore them. They are the most expensive pieces of furniture I have ever purchased and I have zero regrets! The quality is outstanding and the comfort is out of this world. Antique side table from One King’s Lane (similar), Blue and White pottery from John Derrian in NYC, brass-looking glass is an estate sale find. Art from The Atelier Collection, rug is Couristan carpet made into a rug. I needed a custom size to fill the space and this rug had everything I wanted; warmth, nautical and classic. Blanket over chair is Faribault Mills. Bergere chair in a Schumacher mohair. Fireplace Glass sconces flanking fireplace from Landschute’s private collection. Green bamboo chair from IMS sale room (similar), Tray table from The Sitting Room Studio. Lantern is HomeGoods, vintage art by, The Atelier Collection. Large blue and white ginger jar is from Chesterdales in Naples, FL. Little one was a gift from my girls from William Sonoma. Art Vintage art by “The Atelier Collection”. Hayley, the curator had this in her personal collection and I loved it so much she let me graciously take it right off her wall. The tones are so rich and the frame is to die for. You’ll see very soon that I have a “slight” obsession for clipper ships. Antique Coffee Table First of all…This coffee table!! It’s a 1970’s Baker bamboo table that I found on (get ready for it) ETSY!!! I nearly died. Seriously! It’s a gem and I will own it forever! (Find a similar coffee table here). Couch, The Sitting Room Studio, blue pillows, Schumacher. Tiny print pillows, Amy Karyn. Sail boat needlepoint is from Chazin Interiors. I adore design books and often look through them for inspiration. I’m amazed at how often I notice something I never saw before. Countless design inspiration just a reach away. Coffee Table Decor Bird’s eye view of my favorite table. Ginger jar from Chesterdale’s antique store, brass box from an estate sale. Flowers by, Designer Blooms. Rug, Courtesan carpet. Topiaries The ladies (myrtles) travel from room to room and I love how easy going they are! They love the southern sunlight in the living room. Lantern from HomeGoods. Vintage art (the best collection I’ve ever seen) The Atelier Collection. Ottomans Living room ottomans are from The Sitting Room Studio. I love ottomans because they can move easily from room to room and come in handy for gatherings when you need extra seating. Bunny sketch is from Nash Frame. Pine table is a garage sale find. Side Table Decor Close up of my antique table. I love it’s size and charm and it’s perfect between the two A. Rudin chairs. Console Table This pine console table I have had for over 25 years. It used to be my writing desk and now it sits behind my living room sofa, separating the living room and dining room. Cubes are from Etsy, slipcovered in Schumacher Tribal print. The print reminds me of nautical flags. The ginger jars also get moved from table to table. Flowers by Designer Blooms. Silver tray is an estate sale find. Small ginger jar is a find from a Nantucket antique store. Star glass hurricanes are from Bean & Roe. I love collecting shell boxes. They add a natural textural touch to any room and remind me of the beach. Win Win! Dining Room Dining room table is Shabby Chic Couture from NYC. End chairs are from Hollyhock in LA. I’m planning on slipcovering the end chairs for winter in a plaid skirt. Chandelier is Lowcountry Originals Spring Island Oval Basket Chandelier. I love the magnitude of it over the table. These bamboo chairs have a story. I was at a furniture consignment shop in Florida, and they were on hold for someone else. I begged and pleaded to buy them, but the manager made me wait until the end of the day to see if the customers was going to follow through. At 5:59 I was told I could buy the chairs! I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited about a “find” in my life. I shipped them home knowing they would be the perfect match for our new home. Built-in Cabinet Built in cabinet is filled with antique silver that I collect at antique stores and estate sales. All the nautical ware is from Nantucket. Clipper art from The Atelier Collection. Bamboo chairs are covered in Hollyhock for Lee Jofa blue. Classic & Timeless Kitchen I’ve always wanted a white kitchen and Landschute is known for building classic white kitchens. White Carrera marble on countertops and backsplash, Silver hardware on cabinets. Tempered antique glass in upper cabinets. Island measures 106 by 54′ and is painted “Benjamin Moore Black” with antique brass pulls. Kitchen faucet is gold and with a farmhouse sink. I love mixing metals in a kitchen. Star pendant lights are antiques from Nantucket. Glass dome is HomeGoods. Topiaries from Harvest Home. Clipper ship art from Nantucket. Range Black and brass stove is ILVE and I love its form and function. Flower molding above stove is from the previous molding of front door. I wanted to work it in somewhere and luckily, it landed right here. From Above Kitchen rug from Traditions. Close up of brass features on ILVE stove and island hardware by Bosetti Marella. Sink & Faucet Farmhouse sink and brass faucet. Fruit bowl is Match. Sconces from Currey and Co. Sink is Shaw’s Original. Faucet is Perrin and Rowe. Polished nickel hardware is RKI. Cutting board from HomeGoods. Kitchen towel from Nantucket Looms. Kitchen Countertools Kitchen stools are from Layla Grace covered in Elizabeth Eakins small print. Whale cutting board from Anthropologie. Butler’s Pantry Back pantry has a butler’s vibe. Antique rug was a gift from a friend (similar here). Pine bench is an antique. Whale pillow from Homegoods (similar here). Mirror is antique from Mountain Dandy in Jackson Hole. Star wallpaper is Osborne & Little – Vintage II Coronata Star. Kitchen’s Pantry A peak inside the pantry. Doors are salvaged from another old home. Wallpaper is Elizabeth Eakins, Antique cow portrait from John Derrian in NYC. Vintage lights from Landschute’s private collection. Spindles Wooden antique sconces from Landschute’s private collection. Wallpaper is Schumacher. Dog oil is of our two beloved large dogs, a Newfoundland and a St. Bernard. The artist, Barbara Grieving. Because of the gold stars on the runner, I chose a classic damask gold tone wallpaper. It fits seamlessly into the house. Stair Runner I’ll never forget the day this runner was put it. I was giddy! The whole house is pretty quiet and serene and then all of a sudden…Whoa – lots of stars! I love the nautical vibe paired with the quiet undertones of the rest of Mona Bina. Lighting is Visual Comfort. Stars Walking on stars! Children oil portraits by, Linda Nelson are treasured keepsakes. Flooring & Millwork I call this, “The Oval Office.” It’s actually just a very wide hallway, that we decided to make extra special. The floors switch to a herringbone pattern and lead to the master bedroom left (door is at an angle to get the best view of the lake upon entering) or the master bath, straight ahead. Chairs, rug and side table are from The Sitting Room Studio. Pillows on chairs are Schumacher. Bench pillows, The Sitting Room, Schumacher and needlepoint is Chazin interiors. Custom mirror, The Great Frame Up. Reading Nook Another view of The Oval Office with an appearance by Dorothy. Sitting Room When you enter the master bedroom, the first thing you see is a gorgeous view of Lake Minnetonka. The master sitting area is filled with light and we love all the windows and waking up with the sun. Couch is Quatrine, spindle chairs are The Sitting Room Studio (similar here ). Rattan cubes were a garage sale find for $30 that I covered with custom monogrammed cushions. (similar here or here for rope cubes) Side table – The Sitting Room. Brass lamp is an antique that I found on Etsy. Rug is ProSource (similar here). Redecorating Another view with a pine trunk I’ve had since my kids were babies and no rug with a winter back drop. Alcove Landschute is known for built-in beds and our master bed is my favorite. It is flanked by bookcases with an arched top and coffered ceiling. Linen bedding is Quatrine, clipper ship pillows are Schumacher, striped pillow is Quatrine. Blanket is from Nantucket. Master Bedroom Full shot of master bedroom built-in. The coffered ceiling and beautiful architecture are Landschute details that make the home feel so comfortable. Master Bathroom The master bath has diamond windows on both sides. The white on white marble floors and beautiful “Artistic Tile” tile rug makes it impossible for me to cover up for a rug. Lighting is Circa Lighting. Bath is Bain Ultra (AMAZING). Vintage sale boat from Indigo Seas in LA. Monogrammed towels are Pine Cone Hill. Towel Bar Monogramming is a great way to personalize a space. Towels from Pine Cone Hill. Wallpaper is Schumacher. Art, The Atelier Collection. Bath bar is Restoration Hardware. Decor I’m a serious sucker for vintage boats… My favorites are from Indigo Sea shop in LA and a Country Look In Antiques in excelsior. And sea shells. Always! Wall Art The stars continue up the attic stairs, surrounded by shiplap leading to the boys room. Custom flag art by, Abbey Holden Studio. Stairwell Art Stairwell art is an eclectic mix of clipper ships and Nantucket memorabilia. Antique runneris from Victory in Mpls. Overhead lighting is from Landschute collection. Coastal Boy’s Bedroom Built in Bed #1, antique pine nightstand, striped and plaid pillows from John Derrian in NYC. Vintage boy scout pennants. Rug is Dash and Albert. Overhead light is an antique from London – found on Ebay. TV Nook The boy’s nook. A cozy peaked ceiling, antique rug, The Sitting Room navy chairs. Ottoman is a garage sale find covered in a ticking stripe from Calico Corner. Cozy & Charming Pine dresser is from English Traditions in Naples FL. Rug is Dash and Albert. Pillows are John Derrian. Overhead light from London found on Ebay. Staircase Details Sister staircase that leads from master bedroom to kitchen. Dash and Albert runner. Oil painting of our old home by, Linda Nelson. Child portraits by Wendy B. Photography. Chandelier from Landschutes’s private collection. Topiaries from Harvest Home. Heather’s Office My mother’s writing chair recovered in Schumacher fabric. It sits a little low, so I had a tuft made so I could sit comfortably. I love the look! And the monogram chair back is so personal. Vintage art, The Atelier Collection. Marble lamps, Etsy. Comfy Zone Mirror is from Quatrine. Chair and hardware from The Sitting Room Studio. Wooden bird and shell anchor, John Derrian. Bamboo Chair I fell in love with this oil in Jackson Hole and had to have it. Bamboo chair from living room making the rounds around the house. Here they both are in my office. Powder Room Powder Room with antique mirror and sconce with the my favorite, Nina Campbell “promenade” wall covering. Sink and faucet by Kohler (similar sink). Towel bar is antique. The Nook We call this, “The Nook.” This is where you will find me every morning!! The nook is adjacent to the dining room and open to the kitchen and front entry. It’s where we hang out and catch up. Walker Zanger tile that looks like it’s always been here, navy chairs from, Wesley Hall (similar chairs). Anchor blankets from Grace Hill, pine table from English Traditions, Dash and Albert rug, antique sconces, Landschute’s private collection, antique boat, Indigo Sea Shop, Star gold wreathes on stands, Nantucket Looms. Clipper ship art above fireplace, a Nantucket find. Carriage House Mona Bina came with a carriage house. Back in 1937, this home was actually the gardeners. We remodeled “Mini Mona”, as we call her, first and lived in there while we waited for the “big house” to be done. We have 4 older kids, 2 at the time were in high school while we lived here and it was so charming and warm, sometimes I wondered if I’d even be able to leave it. It’s a real charmer. Currently, my mother and step-dad lives here and they are happy as clams. Back Porch Mona Bina porch. All furniture is Kingsley Bates. Brass bell is from Nantucket. Lakehouse This porch is perfect for lounging and staring off at the beauty of the lake. Custom “Mona Bina” pillow by Nantucket Monogram. Lake View This Kingsley Bates wicker swivel chair is my favorite spot to relax. Boat J’s Crew. Interiors & Photos: Heather from “@SweetShadyLane“. Make sure to follow Heather from @SweetShadyLane on Instagram and visit her blog to see more photos of her beautiful home! Be part of the Home Bunch community. Leave your comment. See more “Beautiful Homes of Instagram“: @sanctuaryhomedecor: Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @MyGeorgiaHouse: Beautiful Homes of Instagram. @my100yearoldhome: Beautiful Homes of Instagram. Click here to see all “Beautiful Homes of Instagram”. Posts of the Week Latest Interior Design Ideas. Trending on Pinterest: Hamptons-Inspired Home with Coastal Colors. Trending on Home Bunch: Open-Concept Family Home Design Ideas. Follow Home Bunch on Pinterest, Facebook and Instagram. You can follow my pins here: Pinterest/HomeBunch See more Inspiring Interior Design Ideas in my Archives. Popular Paint Color Posts: The Best Benjamin Moore Paint Colors 2016 Paint Color Ideas for your Home Interior Paint Color and Color Palette Pictures Interior Paint Color and Color Palette Ideas Inspiring Interior Paint Color Ideas Interior Paint Color and Color Palette New 2015 Paint Color Ideas Interior Paint Color Ideas Interior Design Ideas: Paint Color Interior Ideas: Paint Color More Paint Color Ideas Hello, my wonderful friends. I hope you enjoyed seeing Heather’s home as much I did. I think this is my dream home! I love every single detail and how about that view?! Imagine waking up every day to that! Thank you for your presence here today, everyone and I want you to know that you’re truly appreciated here. May you have a Blessed, happy, healthy and fulfilled week! We’ll talk more tomorrow! with Love, Luciane from HomeBunch.com Follow @HomeBunch: Contact: “For your shopping convenience, this post might contain links to retailers where you can purchase the products (or similar) featured. I make a small commission if you use these links to make your purchase so thank you for your support!” Save
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