#Two new boho tops

[heartateasee]

“Three”

Word Count: 9.6K

(Part three of ‘Goodnight and Go’)

⋆★★⋆

*It will be known when to play the above song during this chapter.*

*Three months after the engagement. Seven months until the wedding.*

I'm sitting in a chair in the corner of a bridal store, my eyes zoning out on the wall in front of me although I know there's movement happening all around.

Today was the day that Gwen would be picking out her wedding dress, and the bridesmaids would also be trying to figure out a style as well. I knew that she wanted me in a different color than her other five friends, which was fine, but I also hated standing out - especially on a day like that.

It's not until Gwen is stepping out of the dressing room with the first wedding dress she's trying on that I'm drawn out of my thoughts. My eyes scan over the dress, and I suck in a deep breath as I take it in.

This style of dress is one that I've always pictured myself walking down the aisle in.

"I don't like it," those are the first words I hear leave Gwen's mouth as she looks in the mirror, and as much as I feel relief, I also feel insulted - even though I know she doesn't know this is the design I've always envisioned. "It's just too...boho?"

I roll my eyes, and I sit up in my seat a little more as my mother looks over to me. "Carter," she whispers, and I look over to her. "I need you to be a little less obvious, honey."

My head snaps over to my mom, and I sit up a bit more straight in my chair. "What do you mean?"

"I can tell that you'd rather be anywhere but here today."

I sigh as I close my eyes, leaning my head back on the chair. "I just don't feel like getting yelled at over every little thing, even if I don't feel like I'm doing anything wrong. I already know she's going to be over the top at the party tonight."

Gwen was already back in her dressing room trying on another gown - not even lasting a minute in the first one.

"You have to understand that she's under a lot of pressure with both work and the wedding," my mom tells me, and I try not to be angry with her for always defending Gwen, but I know in this case she is right. "Do I agree with the way I've seen her snap at you these past few months while planning? No, and I've talked to her about that when you're not around, but just try to be patient with her, okay? I've asked her to do the same with you."

I bite my tongue, wanting to explain that I never actually do anything to warrant Gwen being the way she is towards me sometimes, but I know that now is not the time or place.

"And think about Harry. He'd hate to know that his two most important girls are fighting."

That has me almost snapping. I hate when she brings Harry into the middle of Gwen and I having a disagreement. Whether it be her saying that he'd be upset to know we're fighting, or saying that one of us is going to feel uncomfortable being around Harry if we keep this up. I wish she'd leave him out of it. She knows that he's a weak spot for me - someone that I'd never wish to upset.

I hear gasps, and I look to see that Gwen has come out of the dressing room in a new gown.

This one is more her style. It has a large skirt with pockets, and a corset style top. It's a princess gown - just like she's always wanted.

My mom has already leapt up from her chair to head over to Gwen, and I finally push myself up to join them as well. I can hear how her friends are making over the dress as my sister stands and looks at herself in the mirror.

I pick up on the look in her eyes almost immediately. This is going to be the one she ends up choosing.

"It's beautiful," I tell her, and her eyes meet mine through the reflection. "You look gorgeous, Gweny."

She sends me a wild smile as she runs her hands over the front of the dress. "Yeah, you think, Carty?"

I send her a reassuring nod as I walk closer, placing my hands on her shoulders that were bare due to the corset top being strapless. "Absolutely. I remember the sketches you used to draw of your wedding dress when we were little. This is perfect."

Tears fill my sister's eyes, and she lifts one of her hands to rest on top of mine. "Thank you."

I press a kiss against the side of her head before I back away, giving my mom some time to talk to her as well.

The woman who was helping Gwen try on dresses comes back over after a minute, and Gwen is immediately telling her that she doesn't need to try any other dresses on - insisting this is the one.

It's clear there's going to need to be some alterations at the bottom because it's a bit too long, so they begin to measure that out as another young lady begins to gather options for bridesmaids dresses.

"Carter," I hear my name being called as I'm looking over the dresses, and I see Gwen peering over her shoulder at me. "You choose the bridesmaids dresses."

I was more than shocked to hear Gwen give me that type of control, especially when this was pertaining to her big day, but it also warmed my heart that she trusted me with this.

"Okay," I smile, turning my attention back to the rack of dresses with a look of concentration.

After looking through them a few times, I select three options, and the other girls and I give our size over to the worker so she can start getting them together.

I sit back down as we wait, and I pull my phone from my purse to see I have a text from Harry.

Him and I had been seeing each other a lot more lately since Gwen was in full wedding mode at this point. We hadn't hung out alone, however, since the day we toured the wedding venue. Gwen actually ended up going with that venue after touring two others - neither of them meeting up to her standards as much as the first.

From: Harry 11:14 am "How's the dress shopping going? Do each of you still have all of your limbs?"

I snicker softly to myself at his words, and I think back to the conversation we had yesterday when we were over at Gwen's to pick out what flowers she wanted. Harry said that he wouldn't be surprised if by the time we arrive at the engagement party tonight that one of us is missing an arm - the other a leg.

To: Harry 11:32 am "Surprisingly, yes. She's actually letting me pick out the bridesmaids dresses - believe it or not. But she already found her dress and, Harry, it's so beautiful."

My mom comes back over and sits in the chair next to me, and I see that she's dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "That dress is just so stunning, isn't it?"

"It is," I agree with a nod. "It's just like the ones she's always pictured."

My phone vibrates again in my hand, but I don't have time to check it as I see one of the workers coming over to me with the three dresses I had picked out. I drop my phone into my purse knowing that I'll just have to respond to the text later as I get up from my chair - walking over to retrieve my dresses.

The bridesmaids and I go into our own dressing rooms, and I slip out of my clothes to try on the first dress. I run my hands over the material as I stare at myself in the mirror - lips pursed to the side. I'm doing my best not to let my emotions overwhelm me when I think about why I'm going to have to wear this dress.

Over the past few weeks, I've been trying my best to separate my feelings for Harry with the wedding, and I know how impossible that sounds, but I have to try. It's honestly helped that Harry and I haven't been alone anymore since we toured that wedding venue. With Gwen there, it's a lot easier for us not to fall into our old habits. As much as that separation pains me, it's necessary. I can tell that Harry has caught onto it a little bit - the little platonic touches that we once shared ceasing to exist lately.

He tried to pull me aside to ask if everything was okay last week when we were working on sending out their 'Save the Dates', Gwen having stepped away to take a business call.

"Is everything okay between us?" Harry had asked me, and I could see he was trying to catch my eyes as I addressed an envelope.

"What do you mean?" I responded, still keeping my eyes down - grabbing another envelope to work on to avoid the conversation.

I knew that I had never been one to close him off, and I had noticed his confused expression throughout the day when he would try to pinch me like usual, but I was constantly moving out of his reach before he could.

Harry sighed, reaching forward to take the envelope from me, and I had opened my mouth to protest but he cut me off. "You're acting weird, Carter. Did I do something?"

"I could've ruined that, you know? And then Gwen would've had my head for it," I laughed, trying to ease the tension but his sage colored eyes held something I had never seen when it came to him. Deciding to clear the air, I sat back in my seat a little bit, shaking my head. "You didn't do anything, Harry. Everything is fine, I promise. I've just been feeling a little off lately - nothing to do with you at all."

I hated lying to him, but it wasn't like I could tell him the truth.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I'm always going to be here for you?"

My mind didn't even have the chance to process what he said at the time as Gwen entered the room again, sitting herself down at the table as we continued to work on the fancy stationery.

Kieran was still very adamant about me telling Harry everything, and she wanted me to do it soon. She said I needed to do it before it was too late. I know the longer I wait - the more confusing things will be. There's a part of me that nags at me constantly. It tells me that the longer I wait, the less time Harry will really have to extract everything that I would tell him, and it could end up causing a bigger issue.

I feel like if I tell him too close to the wedding it'll blow up in my face. He'll panic, and I think in that situation he would end up telling Gwen. I'm not completely sure, of course, but it's just an intuition that's been growing over time.

Stepping out of the dressing room, I see that the other girls are already out, and I realize that my thoughts had really caused me to get caught up. Gwen is looking at each of them, tapping the pad of her index finger against her chin as she tilts her head to the side.

"What do you think? There's two other styles I chose too," I explain because I can already tell that this one isn't doing it for her.

"I know I told you to choose them, but I'm not really liking this one, Carter. I'm sorry."

I shrug with a small laugh, shaking my head. "It's okay, Gwen. It is your day after all. We'll just try on the other ones."

The second dress was still not one that Gwen agreed upon, but thankfully the last one was. It was decided that I'd be walking down the aisle in a moss colored dress - the rest of the bridesmaids would be in a deep champagne color. When I saw the swatch of the color that my dress would be, my heart almost stopped right on the spot.

It was called 'Juniper', and it reminded me so much of the color of Harry's eyes.

I tried not to let my dazed expression linger on the stained material for too long, and when I came to completely, I let Gwen know that I loved the color. After that, I escaped back into the dressing room to change into the clothes I had worn to the bridal shop.

I walk back out after gathering myself, and I see that all the other girls have left - only my mom and Gwen left. Walking over to them, I send them a smile as I grab my purse from the chair I was sitting in. I sling it over my shoulder and then cross my arms over my chest.

"Carter, are you riding with your father and I to the party later?" My mother asks, and I shake my head.

"No, it's okay - I'll just take an Uber," I shrug, beginning to fish my phone out of my purse.

I see that I have a text back from Harry, but one from Kieran as well. When I open the message from Kieran, it's her telling me that she's come down with some sort of stomach bug, and that she won't be able to make it tonight.

"Oh no," I sigh, running a hand over the top of my head as I realize that I'm going to be stuck dealing with my emotions by myself tonight.

As I begin to text Kieran back, asking if I can drop off anything for her as I was still out, I hear Gwen speak up. "What's the matter?"

"Kieran's sick - said she's been getting sick all morning," I finish my text to her before opening my one from Harry, and I see that he was the one that had texted me back right before I got up to try my dresses on earlier. "She won't be able to make it tonight."

From: Harry 11:34 am "Oh, wow, not going to lie - that's a surprise. I'm glad that you guys are getting along though, I know how she can get when she's stressed. I can't wait to see her dress..."

"Wait, so she's just not coming?" I hear Gwen scoff, and I lift my eyes up from my phone - raising an eyebrow at her. "I made the reservation for the exact number of people."

"Did you not hear what I said?" I laugh in disbelief. I feel my face turning into a scowl, but I can't help. "She's been sick all morning, of course she's not coming. Are you serious right now?"

"Girls," my mom tries to speak up, but Gwen completely ignores her.

"You know, I only keep inviting her to all these things so you have someone to pal around with since you don't really have anyone except her and Harry. I wanted you to have someone there because we both know that Harry is going to be busy with me," Gwen walks forward, looking down at me as she is already taller, and today she has on heels. "Do I need to revoke her invitation to the wedding?"

My mouth gapes as she finishes speaking, and I can feel myself open and close it a few times - completely dumbfounded at the words she's just said to me.

"She's sick," I enunciate my words, not even caring what she's said about me. I'm mad that she's making so little over my friend. "I'm sure Harry would be more than understanding of that. Would you like for me to call him and explain instead?"

"That's enough," I hear my mom hiss at the two of us, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. "We are not doing this here. Gwen, the girl is sick - leave it be. Carter, don't throw her fiancé in her face like that."

My head snaps over to look at my mom, eyes widening in shock. "What? Am I wrong? You and I both know that Harry would be concerned about Kieran - not threaten to uninvite her to the wedding now."

"Carter, if you don't shut your mouth right now I'll-"

"You'll what?" I look at my sister again, anger flowing through me. "You'll do what, Gwen?"

Gwen keeps her mouth shut, nostrils flaring as she continues to try and intimidate me.

"That's what I thought," I whisper, lifting on my tiptoes a bit before moving around her. "I'll see you both tonight."

My hands shake as I force the doors of the bridal shop open, and I exhale a trembling breath once I'm out onto the street. I can feel my heart pounding against my chest - my adrenaline pumping through my veins. It's been a while since I had found myself getting so angry with Gwen, but the fact that she wanted to make such a big deal about Kieran canceling had me fuming.

As I walk towards my car, that's when I start to register the words that she said to me - throwing it in my face that Harry's attention would be on her at every event for the wedding. Did she really expect me to think that his attention would be on me? Of course it wouldn't. I'm so sick of this game she plays when it comes to Harry's attention.

Fuck, at this point it's not just his attention - it's also his affection.

I get into my driver's seat, tossing my purse into the passenger side as I run both of my hands through my hair. Giving myself a minute to try and calm down before driving, I hear my phone buzz, and I see Kieran has responded to me. She declined anything, saying that her girlfriend came over with a care basket just a few minutes ago, and she apologized again for missing the dinner.

Of course, I respond back and tell her not to worry about the dinner. I care more about her being healthy and okay than her forcing herself to go somewhere while she's sick.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I go into my contacts, and I hover my thumb over Harry's number. I want to get to him first. Get to him before Gwen.

I let instinct take over, clicking on the call button as I start up my car - having my phone switch over to Bluetooth.

"Hello?" Harry's voice sounds through my car as I pull out of my parking spot, and I feel a bit of pressure release in my chest.

"Hey, sorry, are you busy?"

"No, no," I can tell he's walking, the noise that was around him starting to fade. "Let me just get somewhere a bit quieter. I'm at the venue for tonight making sure that everything is set for the party - Gwen's orders."

I can't help but roll my eyes, but I know deep down that Harry is more than happy to do it for her. "Speaking of the party, has Gwen called you at all in the last five minutes?"

"She hasn't. Is something wrong?"

"Not necessarily no, and...I hate to put you in the middle of this, Harry, but-"

"Hold on a second, Carter," there's a beat of silence before he starts to speak again. "It's Gwen."

Sighing, I come to a red light, and I shut my eyes - leaning the back of my head against the headrest. I know that if he doesn't take this call from her that he'll end up getting the brunt of all of this, and I don't want that.

"Got it, uhm," I clear my throat. "Go ahead and take it. We'll talk later."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, H, I'm sure. Now pick it up before you miss it. I don't want her getting angry with you."

"Alright, I can't wait to see you tonight."

"Me neither. Bye."

My eyes flutter back open just as the light in front of me turns green, and I suck in a deep breath. I should've just told him, but the last thing I want is Harry feeling Gwen's wrath. He doesn't deserve it.

And for the first time, I'm really starting to realize that maybe Gwen doesn't deserve him.

⋆★★⋆

My uncomfortable heels click across the foyer of the venue for tonight's engagement party. It's a large venue, with two different floors, and Gwen has the whole lower level booked out. I walk inside to see there's already a decent amount of people here.

I honestly don't care that I'm a little late.

Gwen wasn't going to pay attention tonight to me anyway, and I'm sure that my parents hadn't even noticed my absence due to them running around to take care of every little thing the bride-to-be wanted.

I let my eyes wander around to try to catch sight of my parents, or Gwen, but the first person I see is Harry.

He's caught up in conversation, but I can't help but admire him. His curls styled perfectly on the top of his head - dimples popping in his cheeks. His body is adorned in a pair of dark khaki trousers, a shimmery silver tank top and a white cropped suit jacket with black lining the neckline.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach with just how handsome he looks, and I feel my breathing stutter a bit - my knees buckling.

But then I remember why I'm here, and why we're both dressed up. We're not here for each other - not in that way.

Harry continues to speak, and I can see his eyes moving around as he does so. He's still polite, fully engaging in the conversation as his sight coasts over me. He looks away for just a moment before he double takes, and then he's honed in right on me again. I see his smile widen even more, turning completely to the person next to him for a moment, and before I know it, he's walking over to me.

I begin to walk towards him as well, fidgeting with my clutch in my hands. "Hi, H."

"Hi, Carter," his arms wrap around me like it's instinct, and I rest my cheek against his chest - arms around his waist. "You look beautiful."

I feel him plant a kiss to my hair before we separate, and I know my cheeks are on fire. "Thank you. You look handsome yourself."

My eyes catch sight of his swallows practically on full display with his cross pendant right between - a pearl necklace hugging a bit closer to her neck. I can see the flush coating his skin at my compliment as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Drink?" Harry tilts his head to the bar, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Please."

He slips one of his hands out of his pockets, hovering it over my lower back as we start towards one of the bars - one being set up on both sides of the room.

"What are we thinking?"

I purse my lips to the side, looking around quickly to see no sign of Gwen. "How about we sneak two Casamigos real quick? And then I'll take a Moscow Mule to drink."

Harry smirks at me as he leans against the bar. He orders our drinks before looking back to me with a shake of his head. "You wouldn't be trying to get me in trouble, would you?"

I scoff playfully, flipping my hair over my shoulder. "Of course not. What ever would give you that idea?"

Our shots and drinks get put on the bar, Harry getting a Mexican Mule for himself, and we quickly grab the shot glasses. We raise them in the air, our eyes meeting each other's.

"To your engagement," the words tumble out of my mouth before I can even register, and I know that my smile has dropped slightly.

Harry sucks in a deep breath, and we tap our glasses together - clinking them on the bar top as well before letting the clear liquid slide down our throats. I set my glass down while coughing slightly, grabbing my drink to wash down the taste.

"First one is always the hardest," Harry chokes, hitting his fist against his chest a bit as he mimics my action - sipping his own drink.

Once we both settle, we move away from the bar, but we're still slightly against the wall as more people begin to pile in. "Where's Gwen?"

"Something was going on with her hair," Harry sighs. "Your mother has been in the dressing room with her for about half an hour trying to get it straight. Your dad is currently with the head of catering to make sure everything is right."

I want to make a comment about how she has everyone running around for her, but I hold back.

"I'm guessing you wanted to talk to me about the Kieran situation earlier?" I turn to look at Harry, and he sends me a half smile. "That's why she was calling me while I was on the phone with you."

With my clutch now tucked under my arm, I look down at my drink - using the small little cocktail straw to stir it around. "I wanted to explain things before she called you because I knew she was going to. And I wanted to explain my side, and I know I shouldn't have brought you into it, but-"

"Carter," Harry laughs softly, bringing his hand up to rest on the back of my neck for a moment - giving it a soft squeeze. "I'm not mad at you. Gwen explained what happened, and I told her she should've handled it differently. If Kieran's sick, then she's sick. How's she feeling by the way?"

I stare at Harry with slightly wide eyes, not being completely shocked that he's so understanding, but I'm just a little surprised. He drops his hand away from my neck, tucking it back into his trouser pocket as he takes a sip of his drink.

"S-she's feeling okay," I stammer slightly, my neck still burning from his touch. "Her girlfriend came over to take care of her from what she said."

"Good, I'm glad, and don't worry - she's still very much invited to the wedding. I even told Gwen to let her bring a plus one since you'll be wrapped up with the wedding party most of the time."

My heart flutters as Harry speaks, and I try my best not to question how someone so caring is with someone like my sister. Gwen can be that way at times, sure, but she's nothing like Harry.

"Are you sure? Gwen said Kieran had to be my plus one, and I don't want to put you guys out. I know Kieran wouldn't want to either."

"We have plenty of room, remember? Need to fill it somehow," Harry sends me a wink, clearly alluding to the remark I made about the venue being too big just as I hear the fast clicking of heels. I look past him to see Gwen and my mom rushing towards us.

My stomach sinks, and I immediately feel myself stiffen at the sight of my sister. After what happened earlier, and knowing that she's already been flustered since being here, I'm preparing myself for the worst.

"Harry," Gwen practically gasps once she gets over to him. "What are you doing? You're supposed to be greeting everyone as they come in."

"Well, it's kind of hard to do that when it's just me. Everyone thinks I'm just open to being wrapped up in a conversation since you're not beside me."

Gwen looks at me, cutting her eyes a bit. "You could've given him a little direction, Carter, hm?"

I open my mouth to answer, but Harry speaks up instead. "Don't put this on her. She just got here anyway, and I've just finished setting her up with a drink. You want to go greet people? Let's go."

Harry's arm shoots out to wrap around Gwen's waist, and before she can think of speaking another word to me, they're heading towards the entrance of the room.

I feel my body relax once she's gone, but I can see my mother continuing to stare at me out of my peripheral. "What?"

"Be careful, Carter," her tone is dark, one that I haven't heard from her before, and I narrow my eyebrows before she continues. "I love you dearly, you and your sister both, but I've known about what you've been keeping down. I've seen it for years, and now is not the time to start letting it come out."

A knot forms in my throat with her words, and I do my best to swallow it down.

"You will not ruin this for your sister, do you hear me? You know that you've had all the time in the world to speak up - don't you dare to decide to do it now. I tried to be patient with you earlier, but enough is enough.”

I don't even have a chance to respond before she's walking away from me. I'm fighting to push back the tears gathering at my waterline, and as I turn to find the restroom, I walk directly into my father's chest.

"Pumpkin," he coos, a smile on his face before he studies me properly. "Hey, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

As much as I want to open up to him, and tell him about how it's basically been Gwen and my mother against me all day, I decide not to. My mother's right - I need to put my feelings aside for my sister.

"Y-yeah, dad," I force a smile onto my lips. "Just a little emotional is all, you know? For both Gwen and Harry."

I can tell that he's not really buying it, and he and Gwen are similar in that way. They can read people like an open book most of the time, so I know that he can see there's something else going on.

I've also been closer to my father than I have my mother. There wasn't really any reason in particular, both of my parents supported my art degree, but neither of them were too thrilled I chose to do tattooing with that. My father, however, has always been just the slightest bit more supportive. I've always felt like I could be more honest with him, and he wouldn't judge me for certain things.

"Alright," he nods at me, pulling me into a hug. I feel his lips against my temple before he talks again. "I know they've both been a bit much lately, your mother and Gwen, and just know I'm here if you need to talk about it."

Curling into him, I give him a nod as I hold my drink to my chest. "I'll be okay. I just can't wait until this is all over."

He chuckles, and I can't help but smile when I feel the rumble in his chest. "You and me both."

My father presses another quick kiss to my forehead before we unravel, and he orders himself a drink from the bar.

It's only a few minutes later that the DJ is announcing that it's time for everyone to gather at their seats as dinner is going to start being served.

As we gather around the main table, my parents are to the left side of Gwen, Harry to her right, and then Harry's parents to his right. I'm sitting directly across from Harry, the other bridesmaids filling out my side of the table on each side of me. I know that originally I was supposed to be directly across from Gwen, but now her best friend is sitting there. I'm sure it has to do with her being so unhappy with me today, but it's honestly a relief.

"Carter, dear, we haven't seen you in so long. How are you?" I hear Harry's mother ask me, and I send her a sweet smile as I sip the disgusting, and dry white wine that was served with dinner.

"I'm very good, thanks. About to finish my tattoo apprenticeship up, actually. I only have a month to go," I say, taking a quick sip of water to wash down the bad taste. "How are you guys? You both look wonderful. I can't believe it's been almost two years since we've last seen each other."

The conversation between Harry and I's parents continues for most of the dinner, and I see Gwen scowling every now and then out of the corner of my eye. At one point, my eyes had met Harry's, and I could see a gleam in them as he sent me a soft smile. I returned it, fighting the urge to reach across the table and swipe my fingertips against the back of his hand that was resting beside the copper mug with his cocktail in it.

I could feel the tension growing between Gwen and I throughout our time at the table. Anytime that she caught Harry and I speaking, she would make sure to put her hands on him in some way - trying to draw his attention away from me. Every part of me wanted to stand up and scream at her. I was on the verge of professing my feelings in front of everyone just to have it out in the open for all to see, but I knew I couldn't do that.

Mostly it wouldn't be fair to me, but it also wouldn't be fair to Harry.

Once dinner had finished, I found myself standing against one of the walls as the party continued. I was on my third cocktail, only having one more shot of tequila than the one that Harry and I did earlier. I was a bit buzzed, but nothing outside of my usual limit.

I searched around for either Harry or Gwen with my lip tucked between my teeth - seeing neither of them. Sighing, I sip down the rest of my cocktail and set the empty copper mug down on the bar before heading towards the restroom.

My eyes are on my feet as I walk, and in reality, I'm contemplating just calling an Uber and leaving early. This wasn't enjoyable for me in any way, and I'd rather just be at home.

A hand wraps around my wrist, and I gasp out in surprise as I'm pulled behind a halfway wall, separating the main foyer from the bathrooms and employee areas. Once I'm steady again, my sight sets on Harry who's giving me a cheeky grin - one hand behind his back.

"What are you doing?" I laugh, my face already aching from how hard I'm smiling.

He quickly whips a bottle of Casamigos from behind his back, and my jaw goes slack. "Harry, are you insane?"

Harry lets out a small giggle as he pops the cork from the bottle, carelessly tossing it to the side as he extends it out to me. "Maybe...I don't know. I figured we both could use a little pick me up, yeah?"

"Okay, yeah, I get it, but what if Gwen-"

"I'll deal with her," he cuts me off almost immediately, eyes set on mine.

My eyes dart between him and the alcohol for a few seconds before I look around to make sure no one else is around us. I snatch the bottle from him, and I bring it to my lips - gulping down a few sips with a wince. I shove it back into his chest as I push the back of my hand against my mouth to smother my coughs.

"Jesus," I choke as I watch Harry swig from the bottle as well, swallowing down my gag reflex that wants to show itself.

He lets out a loud 'ah' as he pulls the liquor from his lips - smacking them slightly. "Fuck, that's good."

"Weren't you the one asking me if I was trying to get you in trouble earlier? I think you were trying to deflect. Maybe you had the idea in your head to cause some chaos all along, hm?"

A loud laugh leaves Harry as he tilts his head back, and he's quick to snap his free hand over his mouth just as I'm reaching forward to do the same - his eyes wide. I let out a giggle as my hand clamps over his, and then I shush him softly. "You're going to blow our cover."

I can feel Harry's fist that's still clutching the bottle against my hip, my hand not covering his mouth falling against his shoulder.

For once, I don't try to hide the fact that my eyes are dancing all over his face, and I can see that his are doing the same. Our hands covering his mouth lower at the same time as we move a bit closer - chests almost flush against one another.

"Gwen!" I hear the DJ announce through the system, and Harry and I step apart. "We need the bride-to-be at the photo booth for pictures! Has anyone seen Gwen?"

I watch as Harry lifts his hand to run his index finger along the underside of his chin, and I begin to back further away. "I'm going to use the restroom."

He nods at me, but never once does he allow his gaze to fall away from my frame. "Yeah, I'll probably...I need to go back out there. I'm going to stash this under the table my parents are sitting at, okay?"

I can't help but let out another laugh at him, and I nod. "Okay, H, we can sneak it again in a little bit."

"Just like old times," Harry sighs, and before I can respond the DJ is calling for Gwen again.

"Hurry!" I encourage him with a fit of laughter, and he quickly darts out from behind of our barrier to hide the bottle before my sister sees.

I quickly make my way into the bathroom to disguise anything else that may seem suspicious, and with the way the alcohol is making me feel, I can't help but to keep giggling. It's like all of a sudden I'm transported back to the earlier days of Harry and I's friendship - when we'd be getting drunk at parties, but still being safe.

After heading into one of the stalls, I start to use the restroom as I hear the door open. I instantly hear female laughter before they begin to speak.

"Gwen is so irritated with her sister. It's more than obvious," I hear one voice speak, and I can tell it's one of the bridesmaids.

"I mean, I don't blame her. I understand that she and Harry were friends first, but it's apparent that her little sister is obsessed with him. If I was Gwen, I wouldn't even have her in my wedding."

Clenching my fists in my lap, I try to will away my tears for the second time tonight while they continue to speak.

"No, you're so right. I keep thinking the same thing," the first girl scoffs. "Maybe we should say something to Gwen?"

"I don't know. I think she's well aware of what's going on. Carter just wants Harry for herself. Fuck, if that was my sister, I'd..."

I flush the toilet to drown out the rest of their words, and I confidently walk out of my stall. The eyes of the two bridesmaids widen as I approach the sink farthest away from them - beginning to wash my hands. I recognize them both as girls Gwen chose that she went to college with, but I really don't even know them.

Grabbing some paper towels, I dry my hands off as I walk behind them, and I want to find it in myself to say something to them, but I know it won't be worth it in the end. I meet the eyes of one of the girls in the mirror as I toss my paper towels away just before I exit the bathroom. My eyes instantly latch onto the table Harry's parents are sitting at, and I know I need another shot to calm my nerves.

I sit down next to Harry's mother in an empty seat, and she sends me a knowing smile as I slide my hand underneath the table cloth to try and find what I'm searching for.

"How'd you know it'd be right here next to me?"

I laugh with a shrug as I feel my fingers brush against the bottle. "Because I know Harry would have plopped himself right down in this seat next to you. I know he's attached to your hip. I've never teased him about it ever, I hope you know, because I find it so sweet."

His mother lets out a loud cackle - so similar to Harry's when he laughs hard. "Well, you're not wrong about that."

Ducking down, I take a few sips from the bottle before stashing it away again, and that's when I hear the beginning of a song that instantly gets my heart jumping.

I gasp as I get up from my chair. Making my way through the room, my arms push amongst the crowd as my eyes search for the one person I need. I make my way to the middle of the dancefloor and I'm instantly met with Harry again - large smiles taking over our faces.

"Did you add this?" I ask, pointing up as his smile turns into a smirk.

"It wouldn't be a party without this song, now would it?"

The intro continues to play, but once the vocals come in, it's like Harry and I forget about everyone else. We're dancing and singing like we used to together - our movements sloppy, and uncoordinated.

"Oh, say you'll be there. I'm giving you everything. All that joy can bring, this I swear, ow."

Harry slides on the floor with his hands out, moving closer to me, and I can see that some of the people around us were clearing out - others around the party looking directly at us.

"Last time that we had this conversation, I decided we should be friends, yeah. But now, we're going 'round in circles tell me will this déjà vu never end? No. And now you tell me that you're falling in love well, I never ever thought that would be, hey. This time, you gotta take it easy - throwing far too much emotions at me."

Looking over to Harry, I see him shimmying just like he used to in college - bottom lip tucked between his teeth. For a moment, I have a flashback of him with his long curls tied back in a bun, and his body covered in tight black skinny jeans with a button up that would be barely buttoned.

I begin to not care about the people looking at us dancing together, and I can tell the alcohol was really kicking in. I almost want to rub it not only in those bridesmaids' faces, but also Gwen's face that my best friend was choosing to dance with me over anyone else.

"But any fool can see they're falling. I gotta make you understand. I'm giving you everything. All that joy can bring, this I swear (I'll give you everything). And all that I want from you is a promise you will be there. Say you will be there, ow Say you will be there, ah, won't you sing it with me?"

I feel one of Harry's hands on my waist, his other one moving to grab my hand as we dance lazily with each other. My head tilts back with a giggle as he begins to spin me for a bit before letting me go again, dancing separately once more.

"If you put two and two together you will see what our friendship is for, oh. If you can't work this equation then I guess I'll have to show you the door. There is no need to say you love me, it would be better left unsaid."

As the song starts going into the last choruses, I start to really register the lyrics, and I feel an ache start to grow in my chest. My movements slow down as I stare at Harry who still has a wide smile on his face as he dances across the floor - just as freely as I can remember from before.

Turning my head, I can see Gwen pushing through people out of the corner of my eye, and she eventually moves to stand right in front of us.

"What do the two of you think you're doing?" Gwen snaps at the both of us, but still keeps her voice just loud enough to where we're the only ones who can hear her over the music.

"What do you mean? We're just dancing, Gwen," Harry says as he starts to slow down as well, and I watch as my sister sends him one of the most pointed looks I've ever seen.

"This is our engagement party, Harry, and I come back from taking pictures and freshening up to see everyone standing around watching my fiancé and my little sister dance together?"

"Come on, it's not like that, and you know," I've never really seen Harry fight before like he is tonight, and it seems like the realization as to why hits Gwen and I both at the same time.

"How much have you had to drink?" She walks forward so that she's closer to his face, and I can tell she's trying to smell his breath. "Jesus Christ, Harry, you fucking reek of tequila."

Harry rolls his eyes, and I can start to feel anger rising in me as well. "Give it a rest," I speak up, shaking my head. "It's his party too, and he's just trying to have some fun."

Gwen now looks over to me, and I already know that I'm going to get a mouthful from her. "What the hell is your problem, Carter? You guys aren't in college anymore. You can't just keep trying to make him be that friend to you again. Are you doing this on purpose to try and embarrass me tonight or something?"

Now I'm the one to roll my eyes, and I can't even find it in me to answer her as I walk away. I snatch my clutch from the table where I left it as I head towards the door that leads to a small outdoor area - needing fresh air. I immediately feel the chill as I walk outside, and I open up my clutch to snatch my pack of cigarettes. I place one of the sticks between my lips before lighting it up, putting everything back into my clutch as I inhale - the nicotine filling my lungs.

I wrap my arms around myself to battle the cold, balancing the cigarette between my fingers by resting the heel of my palm against my bicep.

I should've known that Gwen was going to try and twist what was just going on into something that it wasn't. I can only imagine what she's currently saying to Harry, or the complaints that she's spewing to my parents.

With a shaky hand, I bring the cigarette back up to my lips as I hear the door I previously walked out of open behind me. I peer over my shoulder to see Harry, and I suck in a deep drag as he moves to stand right beside me.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, looking down to his feet with his hands in his pockets. "I didn't think us dancing like that was going to be such an issue."

I blow the smoke from my mouth before I respond, licking over my lower lip. "It's not your fault, H. We were just trying to have fun, and she wants this to be some over the top formal occasion, which it is, but she wants it to be so serious."

From the corner of my eye, I can see that Harry is eying my cigarette. I chew on the inside of my cheek as I extend my hand out - offering it to him. I knew that Gwen had made him quit smoking within the first year of them dating, and I wasn't sure if he had smoked at all since.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," I shrug. "I know it may not help your case tonight if you do."

Harry looks at the stick for a moment before he shakes his head. "Fuck it."

He takes the cigarette from me and brings it to his heart shaped lips, and I watch as the end of it glows bright orange. My eyes drop to his chest as it expands before he tilts his head back and blows the smoke up towards the sky. I see that his shoulders deflate, and I know that the nicotine is already starting to help him calm down a bit.

Looking back over to me, Harry's eyes trail over my stance, and he quickly raises his eyebrows. "Here," he says before tucking the cigarette between his lips. He shrugs his jacket off and walks over to me - wrapping it around my shoulders.

"Harry, you're going to be cold now too. All you have is a tank top on," I try to fight him, going to drag the jacket off my body but he holds it tight against me.

"I don't care about me," he says, cigarette bobbing up and down with his voice slightly muffled. "I can tell you're absolutely freezing, and I can't have that."

My heart palpitates at his words, his sage colored eyes meeting mine for what feels like the millionth time tonight as he keeps his hands on my shoulders.

This is all reminding me of a night back in college when we went to a local bar with friends, and I was beside myself. I wasn't really in the state of mind to be around everyone like I was, so I had dipped out to smoke a cigarette on the sidewalk to try and ease my nerves. Harry found me, just like he did tonight, and he realized right away that I didn't want to be there any longer. He immediately told our friends that we were leaving, and we ended up stopping by a gas station to brown bag a bottle of malt liquor in a park.

We were passing the bottle back and forth as we lazily swung on swings together, and eventually Harry could tell that I was getting cold. So reminiscent of what's just happened now, Harry wrapped his jacket around me underneath the moon and the stars - all while a cigarette dangled between his plump lips.

"Gwen might have a point, Harry," I tell him sadly, my lips twitching down into a frown.

Harry pulls the stick from his mouth after taking another drag, blowing the smoke through his nose as he sends me a questionable look. "What are you talking about?"

"Us, our friendship," my pulse begins to quicken as I speak - the words that are coming out feel as if they're burning my tongue. "Maybe I am just really trying to keep what we had when it was just us, and that's not fair. That's not fair to you, it's not fair to Gwen, and...it's not fair to me."

I can see anxiety pooling in Harry's eyes, and he closes the gap between us even more. Bringing his free hand up, he cups the side of my neck - the pad of his thumb grazing my jawline. "Carter, I know you're not trying to say what I think you're saying right now..."

It's obvious he wants to say more, but he trails off a bit. My bottom lip wobbles as I try to gather my thoughts. I know that I need to be careful in what I say next.

"I don't want to cause issues between the two of you. You're practically just starting the rest of your lives together, and I just keep getting in the middle."

Harry quickly flicks the cigarette onto the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of his shoe as he brings his other hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "You listen to me right now," his voice is low - causing a knot to form in my stomach. "I don't ever want to hear you try and sacrifice our friendship to please someone else. You got that?"

I lift up my hands to push against his chest, trying to pull away from him, but he pulls me right back in. “But Harry, it’s Gwen, she’s going to be your wife, and-”

"Carter, I'm serious," his tone is now pleading, and I see that his eyes are glazing over. "I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you in my life, and you saying what you said just now is scaring me shitless. Please promise me that you're not going anywhere. Not now, not after the wedding - never."

I remain silent as I blink, feeling tears beginning to streak down my cheeks. My brain is telling me to respond, but the squeezing of my heart is telling me that if I speak this could turn into a full on confession, and that's the last thing either of us need tonight.

"Please," he whispers, both hands moving to cup my cheeks with his fingers tangled into the sides of my hair. "I need you, and I know I may have had a shitty way of showing it lately, but I do. You're my best fucking friend."

And that's all I'll ever be.

Those words were about to creep their way out before the same door as before opens behind us, causing Harry and I to jump away from each other. He walks away from me while running his fingers over his lips that were pursed to the side, and I'm expecting at any moment to hear Gwen's voice.

But it's not hers that begins to speak.

"Carter," I cringe as I realize it's my mother who's made her way out here, and I suck in a deep breath before looking at her over my shoulder. "You need to go home. Now."

More tears begin to fall as I keep eye contact with her, shrugging Harry's jacket off my shoulders.

"And Harry," she continues as I look back over to him, extending his jacket out for him to take. "You need to get back inside. Gwen is a wreck, and you need to fix this."

Harry takes his jacket from me, slipping it back on as he looks at me. I can tell that he's still trying not to cry, and I'm sure that seeing my tears freely falling isn't helping with the emotions he's going through at the moment.

"For Christ's sake," my mother steps forward, and she's quickly grabbing my hand - tugging me away from Harry. "You're both adults, and you need to start acting like it. I don't know what I just saw when I walked out here, but I won't be uttering a word about it to Gwen. With that being said, you both need to do what I've asked right now. I will not repeat myself."

It's clear that Harry is very much battling himself as to what to do, so I make the decision for him. I give him a soft nod, choking down the lump in my throat. "Go inside, Harry. I'm going home."

Harry's expression becomes one of pain before he's looking away from me, his head hung as he heads back into the building - the music from the party bleeding outside for just a moment before it grows quiet.

"Mom, I can-"

"I raised you better than this," she tells me, her hand dropping mine so she can point her finger in my face. "Do you realize how selfish you're being? Do you realize the magnitude of your actions? I come out here to try to smooth things over, but instead I find you both with hands all over each other - as if I was interrupting something."

"It wasn't like that, I swear. I was trying to tell him that we need separation, but he got scared. He's scared to lose me, and I can't...I don't want to hurt him," I shut my eyes tight - my arms wrapping around myself once more. "He's my best friend."

"You and I both know that he's not just a best friend to you," she says sharply. "You need to grow up, Carter. You're acting like a child, and this game that you're playing stops tonight. Is that understood?"

As much as I want to argue that I'm not trying to play any kind of game, and that I'm just trying to hold onto something so dear to me, I give in.

"Yes, I understand," I hold back the sob rising in my chest as I open my clutch to get out my phone. "Don't worry, I'm going home."

Walking away from my mom, I quickly order an Uber as I walk around the side of the venue so I'm now at the front. My teeth chatter together as the wind picks up - crashing harshly against my frame. I close my eyes as I suck in a deep breath, processing everything that happened tonight.

I thought that I would have a few more months before my life completely changed, but it seems what just happened was actually the beginning.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry styles ff #harry styles short story #fanfiction #harry styles fanfic

[simpforrooster]

would you be able to write something where the reader is maverick’s daughter and roosters girlfriend; she’s called back to top gun and graduated with rooster, grew up with him, etc. she is selected for the mission as well as Phoenix/bob, then rooster (so she would be on dagger 4). she sees her dad get shot down, is in the midst of trying to hold in her emotions, when rooster goes after him and also gets shot down? The last remaining have to fly back so once they land she goes somewhere to get air and doesn’t realize they’re okay until someone comes to get her? then she quite literally sprints to them and pushes through everyone (so sorry for the word vomit). angst and fluff PLEASE

for her.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!MitchellReader

reader's callsign is Boho.

t/w: cursing, angst, mentions of death

a/n: oooooo yesssss! Love this! sorry this one took me a little bit to get to! I hope you like it :)

"Dagger 1 is hit!" Phoenix calls. "Dagger 1 is hit!"

The words are replaced with a high pitch tone as you realize the meaning behind your friend's words.

Was this sound just in your ears? Or were you and Payback next?

You and your boyfriend, Rooster, were called back to Top Gun recently. The two of you, along with the rest of your crew were taught how to fly this mission by your dad. Eventually, your dad 'Maverick'ed his way into the team leader spot. He chose you and Rooster to fly with him.

Maverick is in Dagger 1.

Your dad is in Dagger 1.

"Boho, you with me?" Payback calls from the front of your F-18.

You can't form words. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't.

"B, don't look," Payback warned you. Naturally, you turn your face to the right and see Mav's F-18 spiral toward the ground. A golf-ball sized lump forms in your throat.

You're going to pass out.

"I am going after him," your boyfriend says over comms.

No. No. He can't.

"Rooster, you can't. We've been told not to go back," Payback says.

That high pitch tone is still ringing in your ears. You can't stop picturing the smoke and flames coming from your dad's F-18. Maverick has always warned and prepared you that every time one of you goes up, you may not come back.

You just never thought you'd loose your dad on the same mission.

"I have to. For her."

You hear the dagger teams argue over the comms while simultaneously dodging enemy fire. You work through your weapons expertly, mindlessly.

"Dagger 3 is hit!" this time, it's Payback delivering the news over the comms.

Your dad and your boyfriend. The two most important men in your life. Blown from the sky.

"We've been ordered to go back. They don't want us turning around," Payback tells you. You nod your head even though he can't see, still numb. Still processing.

When the four of you make it back to the boat, you exit your aircraft with that same ringing in your ear. You stumble to the left, and then the right.

Is your head full of water right now?

"Boho, are you--" Jake reaches for you, but you move past him, like you don't hear him.

"Lieutenant Mitchell, you need to be debriefed," Cyclone commands, but this doesn't stop you from moving forward. Trying to find somewhere to let yourself breathe, to feel. To sort out these emotions. Warlock puts a hand on Cyclone's shoulder, holding him back from coming after you.

You make it to the other side of the boat before all hell breaks loose. Everything hits you like a Mack truck. Your dad was shot down. You watched his plane fall from the sky. Your boyfriend went after him.

"For her," he said.

Why the FUCK would Cyclone let your dad select you and Rooster for this mission. Wasn't that nepotism? Wasn't it a conflict of interest? What would Ice think?

It doesn't matter. He wasn't here anymore, either.

Gripping the side of the boat, your knuckles go white. Tears fall from your face. Your mind goes to Penny, to Amelia. To your mom.

Tears fall for yourself. Rooster doesn't have anyone besides you and your family. You will have to see to the arrangements. The love of your life's arrangements.

What kind of sick fucking joke is this?

"Boho! Boho! Where the fuck are you?" Jake's voice gets louder as he closes in on your hiding spot. "Y/n!"

You turn and take in the cocky aviator. "What, Hangman? What in the world could possibly be that important right now?"

Jake takes in your appearance and sympathy fills his eyes. The last thing you want is sympathy from Hangman.

"Come with me," his voice is soft, he holds out a hand.

You shake your head. "Tell Cyclone he's just going to have to wait. I don't care if he's an admiral, I just lost my dad and Bradley." Your voice breaks when you say the words aloud. Like you saying them just made it final.

It was already final when you watched both F-18 fall to the Earth in flames.

Hangman doesn't listen. Grabbing your hand, he forces you to follow him. You think about fighting him off, but suddenly, you don't have the energy.

As he pulls you back to the runway, everyone is shouting. Or is that cheering?

What could they be cheering for?

As you come around the corner, you see what everyone is cheering for.

You see Rooster first. He looks positively exhausted, and absolutely delectable. Is this a mirage?

Jake pushes you forward, and this resets your brain. You run, no sprint, through the crowd. Everyone steps aside as you shove through. Standing in front of Rooster, new tears fall from your face. Tears of relief.

"Oh honey," he says, drinking you in. You close the distance between you and run into his arms. Rooster lifts you up and your legs wrap around his waist. Grabbing his face in your hands, you attack him in kisses. When you're satisfied, you pull back and look him in the eye.

"I thought you were gone," you whisper. Rooster brings a hand to your face, wiping a tear away.

"I'm here," he says, pulling you in for another kiss. "I'm here, baby."

Your brain short circuits, and you pull back. "Dad?!" you whisper.

Rooster sets you down, and steps aside. You see your dad talking to Phoenix and Bob.

Relief washes through you for a second time. Both your guys were back and safe.

"Dad!" you shout, getting his attention. Maverick turns toward you and grins. He opens his arms to you, and you rush into them as if you are 5 again, and had just woken up from a nightmare.

Honestly, you really had.

"I see how it is, you go to Rooster first, then me," he chuckles. You pull away and swat his chest, your laughter mixing with tears.

Rooster's hand finds its way to the small of your back. He and Maverick take each other in, and Maverick reaches for him. Pulling him into a hug, you hear him say, "Thank you for coming back for me."

"It's what my dad would have done," Rooster murmurs into Maverick's shoulder.

masterlist

#rooster x oc #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun fic #top gun imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n

[natasha-in-space]

Engagement rings headcanons

Was scrolling through the engagement rings with my friendo the other day, and they dared me to choose individual rings for everyone in mm, so here's the result of that silly dare. I know we technically already know about this from the 'mysterious confesson' merch we got, but this was still a very fun exercise to do. These are just my headcanons, and were made solely for fun, don't take my thoughts on this too seriously! :D

Yoosung

Would go with something classy and romantic, probably a bit of vintage, too. He wants your engagement ring to reflect his love for you, which may lead him to become antsy and indecisive when picking one. He doesn't want it to be too expensive, or too cheap. It has to be just right. Poor guy even sketches out a clumsy 'prototype' he shows to the employees, as it's hard to relay his vision across with just words. In the end, he ends up either getting either a classic diamond ring with an infinity band (he thinks it's sweet to include a small detail of your appreciation to each other lasting forever, however cheesy that may sound) or something a bit more vintage and intricate in style. I don't think he would have any preferences concerning the color of metal, so he might go with a mix of white and yellow metal.

Zen

Would definitely go over the top - the man's a true romantic, you can't tell me he hasn't dreamed of his wedding at least a couple of times! He appreciates everything you've done for him, and he wants this ring to show it. He wants this ring to be everything you've ever dreamed of and so much more. Might struggle with high expectations he sets up for himself, which results in him just stressing himself out instead of enjoying the process like he's supposed to. You might have to have a talk with him about that. As for the ring itself, I think he'll go with something pink and soft in color! There's just something that's is so sweet and light whenever he looks at rose gold engagement rings, it makes him instantly think about you. That's when he knows it's the one. After all, pink is the color of romance!

Jaehee

Would get something custom-made, but still pretty traditional. She wants something that would catch your attention, but won't be an inconvenience to wear. She wouldn't stress out too much, and you two would probably agree on a design together, instead of her surprising you with something. You are her partner, and she wants your rings to reflect that. A delicate and easy design is her go-to. But, if you want something eye-catching, that's okay too, as long as it's not a bother to wear. I think she would go with platinum options when it comes to color. It's simple but very pretty to look at. Kind of like you :) She would also like to add custom engravings to your rings. Something to look at and smile as she twirls the ring around her finger. Either a cheesy coordinated phrase (probably out of your favorite musical that you two always quote to each other), or a date of your cafe's opening, as it's the start of her new life that she has managed to achieve thanks to your support.

Jumin

Would get something fancy, but not over the top. He desires fir your ring to not be too simple, as you are worth more than that. Still, he focuses more on the spiritual meaning of the ring rather than its cost. Money's not an issue to him either way, and he knows that you don't care about how expensive this ring will be. Regardless, he wants only the best for you, as you rightfully deserve. Jumin would go for traditional classic designs, as he finds them the most flattering to look at. Might also like boho-styled engagement rings. When it comes to the process of picking one, he won't overthink it too much. He wants the ring to be perfect, no doubt, but he's pretty cool-headed with his search. Might ask Elizabeth to pick out the best design if he's conflicted. With her intricate collection of collars, he knows she has a good sense of elegance. Would probably go for yellow gold variety when it comes to color, as it's the most classy one in his eyes.

Saeyoung

Would go with something simplistic but unique. I am like 70% sure he would create your engagement rings and wedding bands by hand. It just sounds like something Saeyoung would do. Poor guy would probably be the most stressed of all the others. He wants it to be perfect so badly, but he's also indecisive as hell. See, he's mostly non-traditional when it comes to his tastes, but he also really likes the classic styles of rings, not to mention that the idea of a classic traditional wedding makes him feel all emotional on the inside. This issue would probably persist throughout your entire wedding planning, and not just the creation of your engagement rings: he just can't decide which side to take for the life of him. In the end, he'll probably find the middle ground thanks to your help and encouragement. He's gonna let out the biggest sigh of relief once those rings are finally done. And probably cry right after, as he has never thought he would hold anything as precious as an engagement ring meant for his soulmate in his own hands. Would go with white gold for color.

Jihyun

Would go for something custom-made and simple, but still a bit unique in its presentation. I don't think he has much preference when it comes to style, so he's fine with anything you pick. He doesn't want it to be too ostentatious or expensive, however. He strikes me as someone who prefers more modest designs, even if he'd like to sprinkle some custom design choices. It'll depend on your relationship with him, and what makes it unique for you. He wants your rings to reflect that, more than anything else. He wouldn't be anxious while working on the design itself, occasionally asking for your input, as he wants these rings to be the representation of your shared love, not just his own. He might go a bit overboard and come up with a borderline silly-looking design initially, so it'd be best for you to keep him from getting too creative. Can't fault the man for getting carried away. He would probably go for yellow metal, as it reminds him of the sun.

GE Saeran

Would go for something simple, romantic, and vintage-styled. Saeran doesn't know much about the intricacies that go into picking out an engagement ring, so I can imagine he'd get pretty overwhelmed the first time he tries to research the topic on his own. You'll probably end up picking it out together, patiently discussing important details between yourselves. He knows he doesn't want it to be too fancy or eye-catching, and he knows he wants the ring to remind him of your smile whenever he looks at it. His criteria is pretty easy but sweet nonetheless. It's less about the details and more about his inner feelings. He would probably go for a floral-themed ring if he comes across one that catches his eye, but it's not definitive. He would also go for a colored gemstone, mostly because he likes it better that way. He loves the color pink, as it reminds him of the feeling your gentle love, so he will have a preference for rose gold rings, not doubt.

SE Saeran

Would go for something both unique but elegant. Now, Saeran is definitely not picky when it comes to engagement rings. He kind of feels out of his depth here. Still, it is very important to ask for his input and offer for him to pick out some options he likes, even just on a whim. You two will take your time during this process, as there is no need to rush, and he will get overwhelmed from time to time. It's best to take it one small step at a time, not rushing into anything too quickly. He needs to be reminded that he has nothing to worry about, as all that truly matters is your bond with one another. Saeyoung will probably be the one to make your engagement rings for you, as well as your wedding bands. Partially to not stress Saeran too much with all the shopping, as jewelry stores tend to be too bright for the eyes. It'll be a pretty unique and somewhat edgy design but with a touch of soft colors in the mix. Kind of like him. 

Rika

Is the type to go over the top but, in reality, she would like something classic and simple. When she's in a good place both physically and mentally, she's very doting, and she's also a hopeless romantic. I'd say she's almost on par with Zen when it comes to her romantic fantasies, which is why she loves his musicals as much as she does. It can be a good thing, but it also makes her prone to perfectionism. She will pick out a very fancy ring that she thinks is good enough for someone as wonderful as you, but... she feels dissatisfied with the result, and that makes her anxious. Rika is a people pleaser, so she tends to make choices with someone else in mind, rather than trusting her own heart. You guys will have to talk about it. It's hard to understand what you like when you've lived your whole life masking as someone you're not. In the end, I think she would go for something simple and elegant, probably also combine the colors she associates with your love. Keep her in check, though, as we all know Rika's design skills are out of this world. 

Vanderwood

Weirdly enough? Despite their seemingly simplistic nature, I think they would go for something very unique and even a little odd-looking. Vanderwood is a pretty laid-back person, but all these casual vibes go out the window once it comes down to design. They are very picky with anything that they own in their closet, and engagement rings are on another level completely. They wear leopard print for a reason! I think they would end up getting something custom-made, as it's the easiest way not to stress out over the perfect design. They are not so much nervous as they are choosy. Still, they do have a major soft spot for you, so it's up to you to stir them in the right direction. They would like you to be very involved in the process of deciding on a perfect engagement ring. The end result will still be weird, though. But, the amount of weirdness will depend solely on you. Whether to embrace the weirdness, or to add just a touch of it - it is your choice to make.

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #yoosung kim #yoosung x reader #zen ryu #zen x reader #jaehee kang #jaehee x reader #jumin han #jumin x reader #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x reader #jihyun kim #jihyun x reader #saeran choi #saeran x reader #ge saeran #ge saeran x reader #se saeran #se saeran x reader #rika kim #rika x reader #vanderwood #vanderwood x reader #would've added my cmc's but tumblr's limit for pics kicked me in the but :( #i also have wedding band designs for them all but alas #added se saeran as it'll depend on his mc whether or not a marriage is in store

[agentstovring]

Know No Shame

Title: Know No Shame

Pairing: Arasha/Brianna Boho (Smosh)

Rating: E for Explicit

Notes: This started as a stupid joke I told Snel, then turned into a short crack fic, and ended up being an earnest and smutty thing of its own.

You can also find this on Ao3

Arasha was a huge fan of late call times. Whenever the call time was later than 10 a.m., the morning felt ripe with possibilities; she could go to the gym before work; she could clean her apartment; she could make her own healthy lunch to bring to the office. Not that she ever did any of that, of course; in reality, late call times just meant feeling less bad about staying up late watching reality TV.

She was never going to be motivated like Shayne, going to the gym at the ass crack of dawn to lift weights and listen to audio books; or organized like Selina, who somehow left every room tidier than she found it; or dedicated like Garrett, bringing in vegan lunches full of colorful veggies.

Instead, she came barreling into the Smosh offices at 10.02 a.m. on a Tuesday, officially two minutes late to an already late call time. It was no secret that most of the cast members had a loosey goosey relationship with time; but Arasha was still technically one of the new kids, and she was still trying to show that she respected the schedule. Thankfully, she wasn’t last to arrive, and once she’d dropped her stuff off at her desk, she headed to the kitchen for coffee.

Late call times allowed plenty of time to swing by a Starbucks on the way to the office; but did she do that? No. She slept an extra 15 minutes instead. She’d regretted making that decision countless times, and today was no different. The coffee at Smosh was excellent; even after they’d run out of My Favorite Coffee, Ian made sure they only stocked the good stuff.

However, the mug situation was dire, as most of the office had started bringing their own mugs from home. This meant that the mugs that belonged to the company rarely got replaced when they were inevitably broken, and these days there were few survivors left in the kitchen cupboard. Especially for those arriving late, as the people with early call times had already helped themselves.

Arasha was preparing for disappointment as she entered the kitchen, but what she actually got was quite the opposite. A well-shaped ass only half-covered by a pair of black short shorts; and long legs in fishnet tights and thigh-high boots with a killer heel. Then – as the owner of the beforementioned ass and legs stood up fully – long, shiny hair so perfectly platinum blonde that Arasha was briefly blinded by it.

Brianna Boho turned around, giving Arasha an eyeful of her perfectly round boobs fighting gravity in a red, corset-like top. Arasha’s eyes snapped up to look her in the eyes instead, trying desperately to not look like a deer caught in headlights when Brianna spotted her.

“Hey, Arash,” she said, sounding annoyed. “Are there actually no mugs in this entire office? If Smosh can’t even afford dishware, I’m seriously worried about my day rate.”

Arasha hadn’t quite gotten used to Brianna – in fact, she failed to see how anyone could, between her radiant beauty and outrageous personality. Not to mention, Brianna was freelance, so she wasn’t at the offices often enough to be a familiar presence. Whenever she caught herself ogling Brianna, Arasha would tell herself that her crush was just a short-lived infatuation; that she was like a kid wanting a shiny new toy.

She tried to convince herself that if Brianna were a salaried employee and permanent fixture in the office, it would be all the exposure therapy Arasha needed to not get so flustered around her. Sometimes she almost believed it.

Realizing that Brianna was still looking at her expectantly, Arasha cleared her throat awkwardly and nodded. “Mugs. Not easy to come by in this office.”

She folded her arms over her chest, then reconsidered and put her hands in her pockets, reconsidered again and let her arms hang uselessly by her sides. She clenched her fists to fight the urge to fold her arms again.

Brianna raised a perfect eyebrow. “So... No mugs?”

Arasha felt her armpits start to sweat. The awkwardness in her own voice was like nails on a chalkboard when she heard herself say, “Let me find one for you.”

Before Brianna could respond, Arasha rushed out of the kitchen, cursing her own weirdness all the way to the bullpen. She walked up to the first person she saw, which happened to be Ian.

“Good morning, Arasha,” he said, barely looking up from his phone. He was holding a thermal travel mug.

“Mugs,” Arasha said with the immediacy of a doctor in an ICU.

“Mugs was my father, please, call me Ian,” Ian said. “You look stressed, what’s going on?”

“There are no more mugs in the kitchen, and I need a mug. Ideally two mugs. Where can I find a mug?”

Ian seemed to sense that another joke would not be well-received and said, “I left my thermal at home yesterday, so I used one from here; I think it’s still in my office.”

“Thank you!” Arasha all but sprinted away from him.

Ian sipped his coffee. “Kids these days. They love mugs.”

Arasha did indeed find a mug in Ian’s office; it said SHOOT DOOD on it, and there was a bit of cold coffee left at the bottom, but Arasha carried it like it was invaluable treasure.

She reentered the kitchen slightly out of breath, holding the mug aloft. Brianna lit up.

“Oh, yay, you found one!”

“I did,” Arasha said and took the mug to the sink. “It’s dirty, though, let me clean it for you.”

“You don’t have to do that; you know I like it dirty,” Brianna giggled, then looked serious. “I’m just kidding; I would not actually drink from someone’s dirty mug. Or I guess that would depend on whose it was.”

Arasha snorted, washing the mug with warm, soapy water. “It was Ian’s.”

“Hm, not the worst. He is kind of hot in like, a divorced dad kind of way.”

Arasha rinsed the mug off and grabbed a dish towel, drying as fast as she could while still being thorough. Out the corner of her eye, she could tell that Brianna was watching her, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. Finally satisfied with her efforts, she handed the clean mug to Brianna, who thanked her and poured in steaming hot coffee. She took a sip before handing the mug back.

Arasha took the mug automatically, surprised. “Oh, you wanna share it?”

“Yeah, it’s only fair. Unless you don’t feel comfortable.”

“No-no, I’m comfortable. I just- Thank you.”

Arasha sipped the coffee and her eyes closed on their own accord. Fuck, that was really good coffee. She swore she could already feel the caffeine spreading through her body. She gave the mug back to Brianna who just held it.

“It’s a little too hot,” she said, sounding almost awkward. Arasha had no idea she could feel awkward about anything.

For a moment they stood there silently in the kitchen, watching the steam rise out of the mug. Of course, right behind the steam was Brianna’s cleavage, and Arasha’s focus shifted there a few times in spite of her best efforts.

The fridge made a fridge noise and they both startled, then laughed at their own reactions. Arasha desperately tried to think of something to say, but Brianna beat her to it.

“Do you think me and Courtney look alike? I know you guys are friends, so I’m just wondering.”

“Uh, no,” Arasha lied, somehow sensing that that was the correct answer; but wanting to be honest she added, “Maybe in the very beginning, when I first met you. But as I’ve gotten to know you better, I realized that there are more differences than similarities; you’re not even the same kind of blonde.”

Brianna nodded, seemingly satisfied. She sipped from the mug again.

”It kinda bothers me when people compare us; I’m my own person. Also, I don’t see it; for starters, her tatas are supes small compared to mine.” She unsubtly glanced at Arasha’s chest area. “Not that there’s anything wrong with small tits; I have pretty small hands anyway.”

Arasha drew in a breath to say something, then realized the implication of Brianna’s words and froze. Forcing out an awkward laugh, she took out her phone and pretended to read a text. The whole time she felt Brianna’s eyes on her.

Alex Tran appeared in the doorway. “Arasha, we need you on set.”

“Right!” She shoved her phone back in her pocket and gave Brianna a small wave as she followed Alex out. Brianna reached out and barely brushed her arm, but it was enough to stop her dead in her tracks.

“Are you working on Friday?” Brianna asked, smiling sweetly.

“Yeah- Yes. Uh-huh.”

“Me too. You should wear a skirt.”

Arasha choked a little on thin air, then swallowed hard. “Okay,” she squeaked and speedwalked to catch up with Alex, heart pounding in her throat. What the fuck was that?!

▼

Distracted with work, Arasha made it through the rest of the day without thinking much about Brianna; but once she was in the car headed home, she replayed the last bits of their conversation in her head.

“Wear a skirt,” she said out loud to herself as she stopped at a red light. She tapped the steering wheel with her nails, frowning. “’We’re both working on Friday; you should wear a skirt’ – what?”

She kept turning the words in her head, confused about Brianna’s intention. Arasha was wearing jeans and a sweater; did Brianna want her to dress more feminine? What business was that of hers? Brianna was known for speaking her mind, but Arasha hadn’t ever heard her be critical of the way other people dressed, or even give unsolicited advice.

Besides, she’d specifically asked that Arasha wear a skirt not in general, but specifically the next time they were working together. It didn’t make a lot of sense.

All she knew for sure was, when Brianna had looked her in the eyes and said those words, for a brief few seconds she’d felt as if her knees would give out. The words themselves were completely innocuous, but the way they had sounded from Brianna’s glossy lips made Arasha feel woozy.

She put the speculations out of her mind as she pulled into the Ralphs parking lot, focusing instead on remembering the items on the grocery list she’d left at home. By the time she reached the self-checkout, she had all but forgotten her confused feelings from earlier.

▼

Wednesday and Thursday went by in a haze; shooting weeks were always exhausting, but also the best part of her job. She goofed around with her fellow cast members and the crew during the day, and all but passed out in her bed early in the evening.

It wasn’t until she was leaving work Thursday afternoon that she remembered Brianna’s request again: Friday. Wear a skirt. Arasha felt conflicted. On one hand, what a perfectly easy thing to do; she owned several skirts, and wearing one to work wasn’t weird or challenging in any way. But on the other hand, who was Brianna to dictate her wardrobe? And what was the point?

In a moment of déjà vu, Arasha once again found herself in L.A. traffic, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than fashion. Imagining herself wearing a skirt to the office, nothing; imagining Brianna’s reaction to her wearing a skirt to the office... not nothing.

Brianna was not in charge; if Arasha wore jeans and acted aloof, the worst outcome would be Brianna being mildly disappointed – if she even remembered or cared. But if Arasha complied, then what? Would Brianna praise her? Reward her efforts? Shifting in the car seat, Arasha sucked in a breath; her stomach muscles clenched, and she realized she was getting wet.

Even though there was no way the people in the other cars could know the state she was in, her cheeks still burned with shame. At the next stop light, she briefly squeezed her thighs together and a small moan escaped her, barely audible over the music playing in her car. She wanted nothing more than to get home, dig a toy out of her bedroom drawer, and drill out any confusing thoughts. There was just one thing she had to do first.

Flipping on her turn signal, she turned right at the last possible second, earning a long, angry honk from the driver behind her. “Yup, fair,” she murmured, nodding her head absentmindedly. The sound still rang in her ears minutes later when she walked into TJ Maxx.

.

She had browsed aimlessly for 10 minutes, unsure of what she was even looking for, and politely rejected two different employees’ offers to help. Finally, while she was already looking towards the next rack of clothes, her fingers brushed over something, and she paused. Lifting the hanger off the rack, she ran her hand over the soft black leather, feeling goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. She didn’t hesitate another second before taking the skirt to the fitting rooms.

Safely behind the door of one of the small rooms, she quickly took off her pants and wiggled into the tight skirt, zipping it up in the back. She smoothed her hands down over her thighs and looked in the mirror; it fit as if tailormade for her. It was a little tighter and shorter than what she’d normally wear, snug around her hips and stopping above her knees, but it was still work-appropriate. By Smosh standards anyway.

Turning to check the fit from all angles, she tried to see herself through Brianna’s eyes, taking in the length of her own smooth, brown legs, and the way the tight leather hugged the curve of her ass. A tingling sensation started in her stomach and crept downwards. What would Brianna do when she saw her? What do you want her to do?

Swallowing hard, Arasha leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, unzipping the skirt and slowly pushing it down over her hips, squeezing her thighs together more than she had to. I want her to take it off me. She let the skirt drop and it fell around her ankles, the lining giving off secondhand warmth. She put her pointer finger under the waistband of her underwear, not taking them off, just feeling her finger stroke across her stomach between fabric and soft skin. She imagined Brianna’s finger in its place and huffed out a small breath as she clenched involuntarily. I want her to strip me down completely. I want her to see me, touch me-

Without consciously deciding to, she pressed the heel off her other hand against her crotch. A wave of pleasure rushed over her; her thighs snapped together, trapping her hand in place; and she let out a loud gasp as her knees buckled and she fell into a crouched position. Shuddering as she tried to collect herself, her mouth dropped open in shock and arousal as she teetered on the brink of orgasm.

“Is everything alright in there?” a concerned voice asked from the other side of the flimsy door, and Arasha scrambled to stand upright, frantically pulling her sweater down in case the employee decided to come in.

“Everything’s great! I can’t believe how good I look in this skirt, haha,” she fake-laughed, fully aware of how deranged her voice sounded.

“Okay,” the employee said doubtfully, before walking away, her footsteps growing quieter until they couldn’t be heard at all.

Arasha looked at her own reflection once more, letting go of the hem of her sweater; it slipped back up where it belonged, revealing her grey cotton underwear. A diamond shaped stain of sticky wetness bloomed from the crotch, darkening the fabric. She took a deep breath, swallowing down the hot shame that threatened to rise within her, already making her stomach churn.

She put her pants back on, put the leather skirt back on the hanger, and left the dressing room trying to look as casual as possible. Then she took her find to the register and paid for it, not even hearing the price before swiping her card.

▼

Friday morning Arasha stood next to her bed as the clock ticked mercilessly closer to the time she had to leave for work. She was freshly showered; her hair blow-dried; her makeup done; and her teeth brushed. There was nothing left to do except get dressed; but once she did, there would be no turning back from the decision she was about to make.

She shifted her eyes back and forth between the two outfits she’d laid out: One with pants and one with The Skirt. They were both genuine options; she could just put on the jeans she’d worn dozens of times and go to work like she did any other day. And always wonder in the back of your mind what Brianna wanted. Arasha groaned, shuffling her feet; she really needed to leave soon.

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” she said through gritted teeth, grabbing the skirt from the bed. She got dressed, pointedly not looking in the mirror before leaving, in case the sight made her change her mind again.

When she walked through the doors of the Smosh offices, she felt a small sting of panic, but managed to calm herself enough to keep walking. “You are normal,” she said under her breath, stretching out the syllables.

Hoping to dress down the skirt a bit, she’d paired it with a loose-fitting graphic tee that she’d tucked in, and a pair of sneakers to really sell the look as casual. The whole drive over, she’d reassured herself that this was an unassuming outfit, and that none of her coworkers would even notice; she believed it right until she walked onto the Games stage.

“Wow, Arasha,” Courtney said, immediately staring right at the skirt with an appreciative look on their face. “What the hell, you look hot!”

“I don’t normally look hot?” Arasha replied, pretending to be offended.

Spencer grinned at her. “You should have told me it was Sexy Skirt Friday; I would have worn mine.”

“I’m sure we would have all loved to see that,” Tommy drawled as he entered the room, sounding like he wasn’t entirely joking. “Arasha, that skirt is fire.”

Arasha thanked them all in her most nonchalant tone, feeling somewhat relieved now that she’d survived her coworkers’ initial reactions. They all turned their attentions to Spencer, who was summarizing the rules to the board game they’d definitely all prepared to play for the day’s video. Just as he finished, Brianna walked in, boot heels loud against the concrete floor.

“Guys, I’m so sorry I’m late; my nail tech was telling me about her bonkers Tinder date, and I just had to hear the end of the story.”

“That’s.. fine,” Spencer said, never quite sure how to deal with Brianna. “I think we’re ready to start, so take your seats, please.”

Brianna dropped her bag on a chair out of frame and brushed past Arasha as she approached the Games table.

“Nice skirt,” she said casually.

“Thanks, it’s new,” Arasha said without thinking, then instantly regretted ever learning to speak.

Brianna stopped in her tracks and looked back at her, lips curving up in a sly smile. She didn’t say anything else, but there was no doubt that she knew what that implied. Arasha’s face burned as she took her seat, powerless to do anything but focus up and get through the video without disintegrating under Brianna’s assessing gaze.

▼

“Where exactly are we going?” Arasha asked, hoping she sounded breezy in spite of feeling anything but. It was lunch time, and everyone’s food orders had arrived; but before she could go to the seating area where everyone else had already gathered, Brianna had pulled her aside.

“I told you, silly, we’re just going to the bathroom.”

Arasha had gone to the bathroom with other girls countless times, but not at work and certainly never with Brianna. On top of that, they were headed in the wrong direction. Unless…

Arasha’s heart skipped a beat. In the other end of the building was a bathroom that no one ever used. There was nothing terribly wrong with it, but it was just far enough from both the stages and the bullpen that using it was inconvenient timewise. Arasha had only used it once, out of desperation, when the other bathrooms were occupied minutes before a livestream, and her bladder threatened to fail her.

She suspected that other people might use it for bathroom emergencies as well, so she was grateful to only smell floral scented cleaning products when Brianna opened the door and pulled her inside.

The room was weirdly L-shaped, and the sole ceiling light hung immediately above the toilet, bathing you in fluorescent lighting as you did your business, while then keeping you in ominous shadows as you washed your hands. Arasha considered all these factors with the critical eye of a dedicated Selling Sunset viewer, until she was gently backed up against the sink. Brianna’s face was inches from her own, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Arasha, did you wear a skirt because I told you to?” she asked innocently.

“Y-yes.”

Brianna’s smile widened and she leaned in closer. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” Arasha breathed, and she only just managed to hold back a whimper when Brianna brought their mouths together.

Brianna’s hands found her waist, thumbs gently stroking up and down, while her soft lips moved against Arasha’s. When her tongue swiped over Arasha’s bottom lip, she let it in immediately, and Brianna rewarded her with a pleased moan. Taking this as permission to let go, Arasha responded with her own sounds of pleasure as her shaky hands came to rest on Brianna’s shoulders.

You are making out with Brianna in the bathroom at work! A voice in her head stated redundantly, but before she could properly process how bad of an idea it might be, Brianna broke the kiss.

“Tell me if you wanna stop,” she all but gasped out, but in spite of her eagerness, she waited for a response before doing anything. Arasha nodded rapidly, brain foggy with arousal, and Brianna smiled and carefully rucked Arasha’s skirt up to her waist.

She kneeled on the floor in front of her, taking in her half-dressed body with a look of hunger; her soft hands caressed Arasha’s thighs, sending pleasant chills up her spine. She hooked her pointer fingers into the waistband of Arasha’s underwear, looking up at her with an expression that could best be described as giddy.

“Can I take these off?”

Arasha willed herself not to be self-conscious and nodded slowly, holding her breath as the flimsy black fabric was pulled down her hips and thighs. Even in the half-light, the patch of slick wetness on the inside of the panties was conspicuous enough to catch Brianna’s eye. Brianna sighed happily at the sight and bit her lip, carefully removing the underwear completely and tucking them halfway into the waistband of her own shorts for safekeeping.

Arasha’s legs broke out in goosebumps as she found herself naked from the waist down, aside from her scuffed up sneakers, fully on display for the woman she’d been crushing on for going on a year. Against all odds, her nerves were dissipating, replaced entirely with the awareness of a dull but insistent throb between her legs that was begging for attention. She couldn’t remember ever being this turned on in her entire-

“Hold my gum.” Brianna didn’t wait for an answer but took her used gum out of her mouth and unceremoniously handed it to Arasha.

Holding another person’s wet, chewed-up gum between two fingers almost brought Arasha crashing back to reality, but then Brianna gently brushed a knuckle against her wet folds, instantly wiping her mind. She inhaled sharply as her hips stuttered, blushing as Brianna giggled.

Some of her bravado seemed to fade as she looked up at Arasha, holding up both hands to show off her long, sharp nails.

“I can’t really finger anyone without turning them into shish kebab,” she said apologetically, giving Arasha a hopeful look. “Can I eat your pussy?”

Arasha almost choked on an inbreath and barely managed a weak “Yes”, hands gripping the sink behind her. Brianna hummed happily and pushed Arasha’s legs slightly further apart before leaning in and giving her an experimental lick.

“You’re so wet,” she murmured. “And you taste so good.”

Arasha felt like she was on fire, and she could give no audible response before Brianna leaned back in, working her tongue in between her folds as she nudged her clit with the tip of her nose. Arasha hissed and closed her eyes, already overwhelmed by the pleasure building between her legs.

Brianna pressed closer, slipping her tongue inside Arasha’s pussy and curling it upwards in a move that had Arasha whimpering and squeezing her eyes tighter shut. It was almost too much, and yet she begged Brianna not to stop. She moaned with every clench of her inner walls, pulsing around Brianna’s textured tongue. Time and place lost all meaning; the only sound she registered was Brianna’s beautiful moans, as enraptured as if she was the one being eaten out within an inch of her life.

With her sharp nails carefully resting against Arasha’s taut stomach, she used the pad of her thumb to rub circles above her clit, while lapping up the wetness steadily flowing onto her tongue. When Arasha’s moans got more frantic, to the point where she finally slapped a hand over her mouth, Brianna instead let her lips envelop the sensitive bud and sucked.

Arasha yelped as her orgasm hit her all at once, and she rolled her hips, helplessly pressing herself firmer against Brianna’s mouth. “Fu-uck! Oh my god, oh my-“ She let out a high-pitched moan, fighting the overstimulation for another second or two before gently pushing Brianna away, knees buckling.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Brianna cooed, hands supporting the backs of her thighs. Brianna watched with eyes dark with desire as Arasha came back down to earth, resting her chin lightly on Arasha’s shaking thigh. When Arasha seemed more steady on her feet, Brianna placed a kiss against her swollen pussy lips.

“Good job, cutie,” she cooed, seemingly addressing her pussy directly. ”You came so much for me.”

Arasha’s face heated up in embarrassment, but she couldn’t help but smile softly as Brianna stood up and faced her again. She leaned in almost hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure if Arasha would allow it; but Arasha quickly closed the distance between them and welcomed the kiss, tasting herself on Brianna’s lips and tongue. She felt dizzy as the strum of her orgasm slowly faded.

She pulled back, shyly meeting Brianna’s eyes. “Holy shit…”

Brianna nodded and kissed her again. They stood there for a moment, lazily making out until Arasha broke the kiss again. “Do you want me to… I mean, I’ve never- I’m sure I could figure it out?”

Brianna giggled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it; we should probably head back before people start looking for us.”

Arasha nodded, trying not to look disappointed. “Are your knees okay?”

“Oh yeah, these things basically have callouses at this point,” Brianna said, then grimaced and added, “In like, a hot way.”

“Sure,” Arasha said with a grin; she has a hard time picturing anything that she wouldn’t find hot about Brianna at this point.

Brianna tucked Arasha’s underwear free from her own waistband and bent down to help her step into them, pulling them up over her legs as gently as she had pulled them off. Underwear in place, Brianna let Arasha fix the rest of her clothes to look presentable, while washing her hands and face over the sink.

“I wanna see you again,” Arasha said, absentmindedly wiping beads of sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Most people do,” Brianna said in a singsong tone, reaching for a paper towel, but there was a flatness to it, like she didn’t really believe it. “You probably think I do this all the time...”

“I don’t think that. And I don’t wanna see you again just to hook up; I’d like to take you on a date.”

Brianna looked taken aback; there was something vulnerable in her eyes. “Really?”

For a second the façade slipped; the skimpy clothes were a costume, the flawless makeup a mask; and there was a glimpse of the real Brianna. An ordinary person, presumably with an unassuming real last name, and a wealth of real human feelings. Arasha wanted to tell her that she believed, very genuinely, that this person deserved a chance to be known and even loved, but it felt like too much for a post-cunnilingus bathroom conversation, so she just said,

“Yeah, if you want to. If you don’t that’s okay, no pressure; but yeah, really, I really wanna go on a date with you. If you want.”

Brianna took a deep breath. “I wanna go to Red Lobster.”

“Deal,” Arasha said with a grin.

They exchanged one more quick kiss, then Brianna opened the bathroom door and gestured for Arasha to go first. She did but paused briefly in the doorway. “Do you want your gum?”

“Oh,” Brianna unstuck the gum from Arasha’s outstretched fingers and seemed to think about it for a moment before throwing it in the bathroom trash can. “Thanks for holding onto it, but… I think I wanna keep the taste of you a little longer.”

.

In the seating area, everyone had pretty much finished eating and were talking and joking around, but when Arasha and Brianna walked up, a lot of the conversation died down. Amanda gave them an analytical look as they took their seats, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Your food’s getting cold. What have you been up to?”

Arasha immediately felt panic set in, but Brianna’s foot lightly pressed against hers under the table, grounding her.

“Good thing I ordered a salad then,” Brianna said, her face and voice as calm as ever. “My Diva cup was stuck and Arasha was nice enough to help me get it out. Guess I gotta lay off the Kegels.”

Every muscle in Arasha’s body instantly tightened with humiliation, and she wondered if maybe the truth wouldn’t have been less embarrassing after all; but at least her coworkers all decided that this explanation beckoned exactly zero follow-up questions. They ate their food in silence while conversation slowly started up again around them, occasionally sneaking shy glances at each other.

▼ After evading their texts all weekend, Arasha was cornered by Courtney in the office kitchen early Monday morning. They held the last mug hostage until Arasha finally caved and told them the truth.

“I knew it! I knew that Diva cup story was bullshit!”

“Will you keep your voice down?!” Arasha said, gesturing wildly. “I’m not ready for the whole office to find out about it!”

“Then why did you fuck at work?!” Courtney squealed but did lower their voice considerably. “I can’t believe it finally happened; I didn’t expect it to happen in the weird bathroom, but-“

“Finally? What do you mean ‘finally’?”

Courtney gave her an overbearing look. “Brianna has been trying to flirt with you for ages; I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but she made me swear not to.”

Arasha supported herself on the kitchen island. “For ages? How did I not notice?”

“She kept saying ‘We accept the love we think we deserve’; but that was right after Shayne made her read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, so I’m not sure it was directly related.”

After securing the mug and filling it with coffee, Arasha went to her desk and sat down. She pulled out her phone and called Brianna, hoping she wasn’t waking her up.

▼ For all her confidence when she asked Brianna out, Arasha had gotten increasingly nervous in the hours leading up to the date. She had changed her outfit several times, seriously considering wearing The Skirt again, but worried that it was sending the wrong signal. In the end, she had put on a dark green jumpsuit that made her look slightly overdressed, but there was no time for regret, as she had to leave for Brianna’s.

Brianna had done a photoshoot earlier in the day, taking place in the opposite direction of Arasha’s place. To make things easier on her, Arasha drove to her place, and they would leave together from there. They could have met at the restaurant, but Brianna had insisted on driving them in her gold Miata.

Arasha had showed up exactly on time, and when Brianna had opened the door, she’d kissed Arasha with the enthusiasm of a woman starved.

Red Lobster was unusually busy for a Wednesday night, and while Arasha had felt ridiculous making a reservation, she was grateful for it when she and Brianna pulled into the parking lot. Once they were seated across from each other in the restaurant, conversation had flowed, and neither of them noticed or cared how long they had to wait for their food.

Arasha’s earlier nervousness was nowhere to be felt, and she couldn’t remember ever being this at ease on a date. They knew each other well enough that there wasn’t a lot of explaining to do; but not so well that there were no stories to tell. They got each other’s jokes and references, and they related to each other’s experiences. There were no awkward silences; when they paused the conversation to eat a few bites of their almost forgotten meals, it was comfortable.

When Brianna went to the bathroom near the end of the meal, Arasha smoothly paid the bill before she came back. She had an inkling that Brianna made more money than she did, but she couldn’t care less; she had suggested the date, and she was going to be old school about it and hope Brianna found it more charming than archaic.

Brianna did. When she returned from the bathroom and found the bill covered, along with a generous tip, she gave Arasha a heated look and shrugged her jacket on.

“Let’s get out of here, stud.”

.

On the drive to Brianna’s place, the conversation was broken up by longer and longer silences, as the atmosphere in the car grew thick with sexual tension. As soon as they had arranged to meet, Arasha had strictly told herself not to assume that the date would end with sex. She had wanted to have zero expectations and let Brianna lead, ensuring that there was no pressure, and that Brianna did not for one second think that Arasha only wanted her physically.

Now, sitting in the car together, Arasha felt sweaty under her collar. She observed Brianna shift in her seat, tap her fingers along to the song playing on the radio, and every so often glance at Arasha with a secretive smile, all while effortlessly driving stick. She looked as restless as Arasha felt, so when she parked outside her house, Arasha wasn’t surprised to hear her say,

“Don’t go yet.”

Arasha smiled. “Okay, I won’t. Do you want me to come inside for a bit?”

“No,” Brianna said, too quickly, then laughed nervously. “I mean, no, let’s just sit here for a bit.”

“Okay?” Arasha unbuckled her seatbelt and got as comfortable as she could. She was still feeling the sexual tension, but now confusion was starting to creep in. Brianna picked at a nail, not making eye contact, and Arasha finally realized what was going on.

“Brianna, are you nervous?”

Brianna sighed and made an exasperated gesture. “Yes, okay! You know most people I go out with just jump me at this point; I’m so stupidly horny, do I really have to make the first move? Again?”

Arasha laughed and couldn’t stop once she’d started; eventually it set Brianna off too, and they giggled helplessly for a minute or so before regaining some semblance of control. Arasha shuffled closer until her thigh was pressed against the console between their seats. She reached out and tugged a lock of Brianna’s hair behind her ear.

“Brianna, do you want me to jump you?”

Brianna pouted childishly. “No…”

“Then tell me what you want.”

“I want you to make me come,” she said shakily, looking down. “I want your fingers inside me, and I want you to kiss me.”

Arasha leaned in to kiss her and Brianna met her halfway, making a desperate sound against her lips. They stopped kissing so Brianna could wiggle out of her jacket and throw it into the backseat. The straps of her dress slipped off her shoulders on their own, and she pushed the rest of the dress down to her hips as to not be restrained. Her tits were spilling out over the cups of her bra, and Arasha couldn’t take her eyes off them.

“I know you said you wanted fingers, but…”

Brianna followed her gaze down to her chest and nodded. “I want everything.”

Brianna slipped off the straps and pushed the bra down as well, not bothering to open it. Arasha kissed her again, hungrier this time, mouth traveling down her neck to her collarbone. She paused to allow Brianna to stop her, but instead she made an impatient noise that nearly made Arasha laugh again.

She placated Brianna by slipping a hand under her dress, pressing her fingers lightly against the front of her underwear. The soft lace was soaking wet, and Arasha swore she could feel her pulse as she pressed down harder. Brianna whimpered and pushed Arasha’s hand away, maneuvering herself out of the panties with impressive efficiency.

“Keep going, please don’t stop,” she said like a prayer, and Arasha leaned down and took Brianna’s nipple in her mouth.

She sucked lightly at first, experimentally, and flicked it with her tongue, tasting sweetness and salt on Brianna’s skin. She let her hand wander back between Brianna’s legs, finding her wet and wanting, no longer obstructed by lace.

She wanted to remind Brianna that this was a first for her, that she didn’t know what she was doing, and that she might be terrible; but soothed by soft sounds already spilling from Brianna’s mouth, she let her instincts take over. Slipping her fingertips between Brianna’s folds, she gently brushed against her clit and was rewarded by a desperate keening sound. Letting her thumb stroke her clit continuously, Arasha pushed one finger inside of her, and, when she met little resistance, added another.

She pumped them slowly in and out, finding a steady rhythm that made Brianna shiver and curse under her breath. One of her hands found the back of Arasha’s neck and pushed her firmer against her chest. Arasha sucked harder on her nipple and pumped her fingers faster, keeping the heel of her hand constantly pressed against Brianna’s clit.

Brianna thrust her hips against the moving hand, moans rising in volume, and her pussy clenched tighter around Arasha’s fingers with every roll of her hips.

“Don’t stop, I’m coming,” she gasped. “I’m coming, I’m-“

Arasha remembered the other part of her request last second and pulled away from her chest, capturing Brianna’s mouth in a searing kiss instead. Her pussy clenched hard enough to almost lock Arasha’s fingers in place and she thrashed in her seat, whining against Arasha’s lips as she rode out her orgasm.

When Arasha broke the kiss, she let out a growling moan, eyes still squeezed shut, and she closed her thighs to keep Arasha’s hand in place. “Wait, wait, wait, just…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Arasha chuckled, pressing soft kisses to her neck.

She didn’t move her hand, just kept it where Brianna wanted it and let her use it as she pleased, occasionally pressing against it with a sigh. Eventually Brianna took a deep breath and shifted backwards in her seat, and Arasha withdrew her hand. Her fingers and palm were coated in sticky juices, and she felt an almost painful sting of pleasure when she put her fingers in her mouth to taste.

Brianna, who had just pulled a pack of wet wipes out of the door pocket, froze in place and watched her with half lidded eyes, making a small noise in her throat. Arasha blushed, taking a wet wipe and cleaning off her hand.

“Why do you get so embarrassed?” Brianna asked. She wasn’t judging; her tone was genuine and curious.

“What do you mean?”

“When you say something weird in a video, you always freeze up for a second; you don’t laugh it off, you let other people laugh at it instead. When people compliment you, you look like you regret earning it. And when I ate your pretty pussy…”

Arasha averted her gaze, feeling her face heat up, and she grimaced. Brianna laughed, stroking her cheek soothingly. Gently, she cupped Arasha’s jaw and turned her face back towards her.

“…when I ate your pretty pussy,” she repeated, holding eye contact. “I could tell how much you wanted it, but you were so self-conscious.”

“In all fairness, I was half naked at my job.”

Brianna giggled. “And I’ll admit it wasn’t the most elegant way I could have gone about it; but can you honestly say you would have been more confident if I had laid you down on a fourposter bed?”

“Probably not…”

“Right,” Brianna took her hand and held it. “You just made me come so hard, I almost jumped out of my seat. And you sucked your fingers, and it was so hot! You have nothing to be embarrassed about; you’re great. Not just at making me come, everything about you; I like you so much.”

The warmth in Arasha’s face started to seep down into her chest, curling around her heart. “I’m a little confused. We had a great date; you didn’t want me to come inside, which I respect; but then you still wanted to hook up; and now it sounds like… you wanna keep seeing me?”

“Of course, I wanna keep seeing you! I thought that was obvious; I know I have a reputation, but I actually don’t put out for every pretty girl who buys me lobster.”

“When you didn’t invite me inside, I guess I thought you were setting some kind of boundary.”

“Ah, no, Bryce is sleeping on my couch,” Brianna said with a small shrug. “I really wanted you to fuck me, and I knew he’d hear us if we went to my bedroom.”

Arasha blinked. “That’s why we did it here? It’s not because you’re don’t want something serious with me?”

“I don’t wanna rush into a relationship, and I don’t wanna skip over anything, but I wanna give this a shot. And if Bryce wasn’t posted up in my living room watching Golden Girls, I’d gladly invite you in.”

“Oh. Why is Bryce sleeping on your couch?”

Brianna rolled her eyes. “He and his boyfriend Gaige are fighting because Bryce spent a month’s worth of rent money on a Swarovski jockstrap.”

“We lead very different lives.”

Brianna leaned over the console and kissed her. “I know, isn’t it exciting?”

Arasha laughed. “It is pretty exciting.”

Brianna looked pleased. She leaned in for another kiss and they made out in the car for a while longer, barely registering the occasional passing car. Arasha found that she wasn’t concerned at all about being seen.

//

#briasha #brianna boho #arasha lalani #smosh #fanfiction #by me #smoshblr #blondeforyou #courtney miller #let me know what you think!

[circusgoth-dotcom]

6684 Lemon Gulch

Ship: Logan Howlett x Gabriel Reaper-Argabritt [Exes AU]

Word Count: 1396

Summary: Hot damn another long one fhfhfh (For me, anyway). When the X-Men are faced with a new threat, they will need all the help they can get. Professor X sends Wolverine to track down and try and convince Gabriel Reaper, his ex, to return after disbanding from the team many years ago. Logan is shocked to find his ex has been "domesticated" since the days they used to go steady. CWs for mentions of implied prejudice toward mutants, brief suggestiveness, alcohol consumption, smoking.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife @rexscanonwife

Logan heaved a reluctant sigh as he stood on the doorstep of 6684 Lemon Gulch, the last known residence of Gabriel Reaper, his ex, in several senses. He didn’t know if he wanted it to be here or not. The only reason he was tracking it down was on Xavier's command. They needed all the help they could get. The neighbourhood was nice… quaint… something that didn't suit the Gabriel he had left.

What if he didn't recognize it at all? Could things really have changed all that much since Gabriel voluntarily left the X-Men? Birds twittered in the sturdy trees lining the well-paved streets. Everything was so… quiet here. It made his supersonic hearing buzz with understimulation. He raised his hand, waffling between knocking and ringing the doorbell. He chose to knock.

A young man opened the door, his expression both confused and curious as he peered at the stranger on the doorstep. “Can I help you?”

“Does Gabriel Reaper still live here?”

The man braced his palm against the doorway, leaning back into the house. “Mr. Reaper-Argabritt! There's some guy at the door asking for you!”

You've gotta be shittin’ me.

It didn’t take long for a tired-looking Gabriel to appear. “Kev, I really appreciate you, but I just put Shelley down for her nap…” They trailed off, eyes widening as their gaze fell on their old flame, their face paling slightly. “Logan.”

“Ah, geez, I’m sorry. I’ll go make sure I didn’t wake her up.” The young man rushed inside, leaving Gabriel gaping, his breathing shallow.

“Well… I… come in.” He felt light-headed as he let Logan in, closing the door behind him and leading him into his Boho Gothic living room. “Make yourself comfortable, can I get you anything?”

Logan stood awkwardly at the edge of the room, unable to make himself sit as he took everything in, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. “I suspect happy-go-lucky back there isn’t your partner, is he?”

“Oh-hah, Kevin? No, he’s just the nanny. He’s been a big help, especially now with Shelley…” Gabriel cleared his throat and floated over to a shelf, off which he picked up a photo of himself and another man, showing it to Logan. “Otis Argabritt. My husband.” It stung both of them to be said aloud.

“Well, at least I can rest easy knowing you’ve always had an eye for the older ones.”

Gabriel put the photo back. He wore a long, grey, loose-fitting button-down dress over a white tank top and black sweatpants, along with a pair of grey, fuzzy slippers. He looked comfortable. A band of white gold glinted on his left ring finger. They then picked up two more photos.

“This is Bram, our little boy, he’ll be four in two months, and Shelley, she’s a year old as of the first.”

“They’re beautiful, Gabriel.”

“Thank you…” They softly smiled and put the photos back. It was a sad expression.

“Does Argabritt know?”

“Please, be more specific, Logan.”

“That you’re a mutant, and that his kids’ll likely be mutants, too.”

“Oh.” Gabriel slowly sat on its couch, clearing its throat. “No. I haven’t.”

“And how long have you two been together?” Logan absently rubbed his stubble, keeping Gabriel just in his peripheral.

“Five years married.” It swallowed. “It won’t matter unless the children start displaying powers, and that’s years in the future…”

“It’s still a possibility.”

“I know. I know.” They sighed and rubbed their eyes, pushing up their glasses in the process. “How did you find me?”

“With a little help…” He inhaled deeply but subtly. It still smelled like it did when they were still together, even under all the smells that weren’t its own. “But that brings me to why I’m even here-”

“Mm, there it is. I knew this wasn’t just an instance of ‘I was in the area and wanted to check in.’” He leaned back, inviting Logan to continue with his body language.

I’d be more than happy to see you if it was on any other terms. “The professor wants you back on the team. We’re facing something we haven’t seen before… we need all the help we can get.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thumb drive, handing it to Gabriel. “This contains everything we know so far.”

They frowned as they examined the drive in their palm. When their lip began to tremble, they put it on their coffee table. “I can’t. I’m a father, now… I’m going to guess Xavier knew that already. I didn’t exactly tell him not to keep tabs on me.”

“How did that happen, anyway?”

This surprised Gabriel enough for them to fold their arms as they looked up at Logan. “I had sex with a man who loves me, simple as that.”

“You didn’t want kids when we were together.”

“I was also younger then and preoccupied with being a superhero, Logan. If I remember correctly, neither did you.”

He grunted… it had a point. Still, this is not where Logan saw it ending up after all these years. He stepped closer, looking directly at him for the first time since he came to the front door. All those feelings never went away, no matter what he tried to replace them with. “Besides the interior decorating, this doesn’t really seem like you, angel.”

Gabriel’s breath hitched. “Please, don’t call me that.”

“I’m sorry,” he rumbled immediately. Only Gabriel could get him to apologize so quickly. They crossed their ankles, looking down at their knees. He wished he knew what they were thinking.

“Do you want a beer?”

“Sure.”

They quickly rose from their seat and went into their kitchen, giving Logan more time to absorb what had happened to his ex in his absence. He wanted to know how exactly Otis had turned him into this “housewifey” thing. Though, of course, he didn’t want to immediately assume that Gabriel wasn’t working… but they had certainly been domesticated. He resisted the urge to go snooping, if only because it had returned with two beers and was beckoning him further into the house, leading him to a back porch.

“I know you like to smoke with your beer, so I thought we could sit outside,” it explained, settling into one of the deck chairs. Logan sat in the other.

“I hope that’s not the only impression I made on you, ange- I mean, kid- I mean, Gabriel.” He unsheathed one of his claws and popped the tab on his can, clearing his throat. They blushed as they opened their own.

“Of course not! … I also know you can be very sweet, even when you’ve convinced yourself you’re only capable of being a bitter loner who cares for no one.”

He sipped his beer, placed it in the mesh cup holder, and retrieved a cigarette from his pocket. “Only for you, kid.”

It let the pet name slide and reached over to light the cigarette, a flame sizzling from its fingertip.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it… though, I’d prefer if you didn’t go back inside after this, for the baby’s sake…”

He nodded, then let a small smile tease his features. “Shelley and Bram. That’s clever.”

Gabriel cheesed. “Thank you, I knew someone would appreciate it. I don’t think Otis quite got why I chose those names, but he agreed to them.”

“How’d you two end up together?”

“I did a lot of travelling after I left the X-Men… we met in Arizona, I was photographing the state parks. Funnily enough, he also likes photography… he noticed we were trying to shoot the same thing one day and we got to talking. I guess you could say the rest is history. He bought this house as a proposal gift.”

Logan coughed into his fist. “Must be some big shot, then.”

Gabriel nodded. “CEO of something or other. Such a boring job for an interesting man. He’s into rocks and minerals, and the migrational patterns of herd animals like caribou.”

Logan could care less, but he nodded along as if he were interested. Selfishly, he hoped there was something flawed in this relationship… some chance that he and Gabriel could get back to the good old days. I miss you. I’ve missed you so much. I’m sorry that I pushed you away. If only he could express it clearly.

#self shipping #self shipping community #safeshipping #self ship au #gay self ship #trans self ship #self insert #self insert x canon #self x canon #self insert oc #oc x canon #circus scripts #❌Lend Me Your Flannel❌

[wttt-dirus-work]

British Columbia (Headcanon)

British Columbia, the “chill province”. Biggest province of the west, she’s the third most populous of the country with a population estimated to 5,368,266 (2022). She’s the second most expensive place to live in, after Ontario.

When in the east coast, with New France and the thirteen colonies, it was the French fighting the British to get more land, BC was disputed between Spain in Russia, in the 1700s. It’s when James Cook, an English man who was the first to chart the land (this is not considering the many Natives communities who lived there first), came in that Britain settled the conflict. Before the 1850s, it was mainly used as fur post, with the Vancouver island managed by the Hudson bay company. Then, in 1857, it was the gold rush, and the colony of British Columbia was made, which the Vancouver colony joined after the rush in the 1860s. BC, who was separated by the rocky mountains from the rest of the British colonies, was made a province in the 1871 (country was made in 1867) when MacDonald promised there would a rail link from the east cost to them. (Note: this is generic reshearch I did. BC is the province of the West coast and I'm from the Québec on the East coast, so I don't really know their whole history)

British Columbia is friendly, but not kind (think of the West coast states like when Washington joins the Table). She keep to herself, but is nice enough to be friend with Alaska, Washington, and Yukon. She can relate to them with the earthquakes and wildfire season, but she’s kind of cynical. She understand many languages (Spanish and Russian from the conflict, and remember but can`t really speak her Natives' languages anymore), but mostly speak English; she’ll speak French either to annoy Alberta, or to mock Québec. Like most of the provinces, she’s a loner, and will annoy the others when she can. She’s chill, kind of "don’t really care for work" (she hates it) and still share some hippie vibes to anyone who don't know her. She also a good actress, making you believe she cares about it when she can't wait to never see you again.

As for temperature, she’s fairly stable, staying around 20°C/70°F in the summer to 0°C/32°F to 5°C/41°F in the winter. Concerning her relationships with other provinces, as said before she mostly keep to herself, so not close to them at all. She will banter time and time again with Alberta, who wants a pipeline to cross the Rocky mountains to sell oil in Asia, but BC is pro-environment, therefore she obviously refused, thus the banter environment vs economy is common between those two, but if you insult the west? The west twins and Yukon are suddenly her bests friends.

Physically, she (6’4) is taller than Texas (6’3), and got that smile where you’re not sure if she’s honest or fucking with you. She has golden skin, mid-back curly, bleached blond hair with and dark green eyes. She has an eternal pacific dogwood flower crown on her head, a white cropped tank top with a Canucks pin and she wears her flag as a boho skirt with black doc martens. She always got a join on her, even if she already smoking one (she’s meaner when she’s not high, so the other provinces don’t mention it to Cana).

Here she is, polite, visibly chill. She’s probably savouring the fact that she made Alberta angry again.

Masterpost here

#wttt canada #wttt british columbia #welcome to the statehouse #welcome to the table #headcanon #wtttsh #wttt #ben brainard #Dirus think

[deedee-sims]

Various replies :)

Under the cut!

@allamalana replied to your post “Misstiikeri Best Sunday Dress made top-only...”:

I can't believe I've never come across these before! Getting myself a boho-chic sim NOW! Thanks DeeDee!

Haha, tbh, I quite forgot they existed XD But they look great!

@leighplays replied to your post “Misstiikeri Best Sunday Dress made top-only...”:

So adorable 🥰

Thank you!

@tvickiesims replied to your post “Azalea plants (converted from Planet Zoo) After...”:

Yay, new plants! Thank you :-*

Thank *you*, master of plants! ❤❤❤

@allamalana replied to your post “Lacy Top Gowns Two more to the stack 😌 The top...”:

wth now I'M the one who wants to get married!❤️😮Gorgeous isn't even a word strong enough for this like??? Thank you so much!!!!

I’m glad you like them, hehe!

#allamalana #leighplays #tvickiesims #replies

[lonelyasawhisper]

The Secret History of Queen

Rick Johnson, Creem, 1st August 1981

TIME CAPSULE OR HAZARDOUS WASTES?

1968—Freddie Mercury meets Brian May and Roger Taylor (then members of the group Smile) in Art School. Brian first heard to say “Freddie! Not in front of company!"

1970—Smile splits up after releasing one single (“Earth”). Brian asks Freddie if he wants to start a new band. “Do octopi have suckers?” Fred replies.

1971—“Lucky” seventh bass player, John Deacon, joins up. Excitement level reaches #4. Bullet Maintenance.

1972—Queen meets Roy Thomas Baker, who, along with John Anthony; produces demos for the band that help them land a contract with EMI. Anthony later pleads “diminished responsibility.”

1973—Debut album proves to be as popular as minimizing civilian casualties. “Around the rime and out,” sez CREEM.

1974—Queen II released. You remember, the one with the black side and the white side that’re both on the wrong side? “Soft core pomp,” sez CREEM.

—Queen supports Mott the Hoople at New York’s Uris Theatre as the first rock bands to play Broadway.

—Brian May’s annual attack of hepatitis forces early cancellation. Although his guitar style is considered rather treacly at this point, you know what they say—good kelp is so hard to find.

—Q II voted album of the year in Japan. The prize: front row seats at the creation of Pink Lady. “Can I lick the spoon?” asks Freddie.

—Sheer Heart Attack recorded for 25,000 pounds sterling (about $1.79 in U.S. funds).

—“Killer Queen” is an international smasharoo. Joe Fernbacher thinks “orgone bleats” for first time.

1975—Night At The Opera released. “Poignancy at its cutest,” sez CREEM. 

—“Bohemian Rhapsody” squats at the top of the U.K. charts for seven weeks. Migration officials begin working overtime. 

—New Musical Express readers pick Queen as “Best Stage Band” and “Bohemian Rhapsody” as “Best Single.” But the group itself remains the #2 band after Led Zep. This is about as big a deal as being the second most beloved woman in Argentina. 

—More awards from NME: First Annual Jobriath Memorial Award for being “last band to make it off the glam-rock bandwagon.” First Annual Freddie Mercury I’ve-Got-A-Tiger-In-My-Trousers Award goes to Jim Dandy!

—Sept. CREEM DREEM appearance temporarily appeases the sun-suit set.

1976—“This year, I can at least sit up!” boasts Freddie.

—Group cans previous management and signs on with Elton John’s manager, John Reid. “So what?” say many.

—At promo bash for the group, Bette Midler punches out then-Mr. Big of radio programming, Paul Drew, for reputedly saying her record is “as quaint an idea as researching an article."

—New Of The World unleashes “We Are The Champions/We Will Rock You” on unsuspecting public. Snuffbrats everywhere rejoice, but CREEM insists that “Queen is the Sha Na Na of rock’s modem age.”

—Joe Zdeb bats .297.

—Study shows that one out of every two American families has at least one member who suffers from motion sickness.

1978—Jazz LP becomes most ignored effort by major act since Tanya Tucker’s attempted suicide. “A parody of their own uselessness,” sez CREEM.

—Joe Zdeb’s batting avg. slips to .252.

—“Today the pond, tomorrow the world!” promo for the movie Frogs becomes Queen fans’ battle cry.

1979—Live Killers released, including controversial pre-taped version of “Boho Rhapsody.” “A typically uncompromising move,” sez the liner notes. “Oh, what a first!”as they say in the new biodegradable tampon ads.

—“Makes you feel like someone is peeing on your grave,” sez CREEM.

—Public response to purchasing a live album that features tapes from previous LPs? Well, if words could deep-fry, Queen would now be a pile of onion rings.

1980—The Game is group’s best-selling album yet. Looks like Merc and the boys have their heels on the pulse of the nation. “Gutless and artificial,” sez CREEM.

—“Another One Bites The Dust” reaches ridiculous heights of popularity for a song that sounds like Trigger counting to six.

—Detroit Lions adopt “Dust” as theme song and promptly lose five games in a row.

1981—Flash Gordon soundtrack released; becomes biggest selling soundtrack album with a yellow cover in first fiscal quarter of ’81. “If Freddie Mercury is ever in a movie,” CREEM meant to say, “the female lead will be Jamie Lee Curtis.”

THE NINE JUICIEST RUMORS ABOUT QUEEN

1. Brian to leave and join Sparks?

2. Before settling on Queen, other names considered included Princess Phones, The Thinkophants, Genotype Cointoss and The John Deacon Experience.

3. Brian to leave and join Kool and the Gang?

4. It was Freddie that tossed the cherry bomb which almost blinded Steven Tyler.

5. Billie Jean King and Freddie boy an item? Wait’ll he finds out what a strong backhand really is.

6. Brian to leave and join Doobie Bros.?

7. Almost 17 years ago, young Frederico’s dentist forgot to tell him to rinse and he still hasn’t!

8. John Deacon is dead.

9. John Deacon isn’t dead.

QUEEN VS. SLIM WHITMAN 

“Bohemian Rhapsody” ’s streak of seven weeks at number one is the second longest in British chart history. The champ: American folk hero Slim Whitman, who topped the charts for eleven weeks in 1955.

“Will they be on Hee Haw too?” asks Slim.

INSPIRATIONAL VERSE

“I suck your mind, you blow my head”

DID YOU KNOW...

* Freddie calls everyone “Dear.”

* A can of 2,000 flushes only lasts John three days.

* The band retains a year-around crew whether they’re touring or not, including the guy who hands John a triangle for one note.

* The chief influence on their Flash Gordon movie music was Zither and Zaza’s monumental soundtrack for Prom Night. 

* Groucho Marx was given a complimentary Queen II jacket shortly before his death. 

* Freddie is a ping-pong champion and hockey expert.

* After the U.S. and Japan, their biggest market is Australia.

* Brian was an astronomer for four years. 

* The prize they really received for their Japanese Album of the Year Award was a wooden comb. Well, at least it wasn’t a teriyaki burger.

* Roger takes forty vitamins a day. 

* Masquerading as Larry Lurex, Queen had a British chartbuster with a remake of the golden oldie “I Can Hear Music.”

* John Deacon is dead.

* The front of a 1952 Buick looks just like Lon Chaney.

* Japanese fans write the boys letters about the “world situation.” “Situation?”—BM “World?”—JD

PIGSQUEAL ZOOTING?

Some Words On Queen In Concert: 

* “The nasty Queenies are back!”—Freddie kicks off second or third U. S. tour.

* “I got chills...hasn’t been anything like it since the Beatles... no one has ever really done ‘Jailhouse Rock’ like they did.”—C. Dagnall, CREEM.

* “Lusty beavers...pigsqueal zooting.”— anon. CREEM.

* “Stunning... they have a sense of Showbiz humor that saves their songs...” L. Robinson, NME.

* “OLD HAT... AMATEUR... NO BIG DEAL... TOO COY... PUNCHLESS... STIFFLY POSED FOOLS... DEMANDING.” K. Nicholson, CREEM 

* "Let’s face it, Freddie has got more and more preposterous onstage. ”—Roger.

* “An impossible combination, like singles charts and scimitars.”—J. Mori, Hit Parader.

* “Whether they deserve this acclaim is, of course, a different matter entirely.”—T. Stewart, NME.

* “Totally hopeless...not unlike a Kiss concert.” L. Danna, Trouser Press.

* “That’s the horrible thing about running away—you always meet yourself when you get there.”—Scientist in The Leech Woman.

* “Excellent background music for looking over wallpaper samples or just plain becoming a sissy.”—R. Coathanger, CREEM

* “Tune the fucking guitar!”—many.

CRIMP ME, YOU FOOL!

“I was struck by how Freddie, along with Carly Simon, Joni Mitchell and quite possibly Mick Jagger, was another candidate for my special Overbite Issue of Hit Parader. ”

—Lisa R’s first impression of “Choppers” Mercury

THE REAL STORY BEHIND "KILLER QUEEN”

“It’s about a high class call girl. I’m trying to say that classy people can be whores as well.”—Freddie

FREDDIE SEZ...

More Lip Drool From Zanzibar:

* “We’re not merely a load of poofs.” 

* “You’re coming to a fashion show, not a concert.”

* “Liza Minnelli’s a wow!”

* “I mean, how can I play a piano with one leg missing?”

* “Robert Plant has always been my favorite singer.”

* “I can’t wait to see Japan—all those geisha girls and boys!”

MOMMY, WHAT’S THAT BUMP ON HIS LEG?

Freddie Mercury has the most celebrated bulge since Jim Morrison or even Ted Kluzewski. “By the way,” swears the tyke, “I do not wear a hose. MY HOSE IS MY OWN! No Coke bottle, nothing stuffed down there.”

Oh yeah? then let’s hear your explanation for these items found in your dressing room: an iron banana, two bags of R-19 insulation, a roll of dimes, a grasshopper trying to mate with a thermometer, a grassy knoll, a baggie full of virgin’s tears, the Leaning Tower of Cottage Cheese and a refugee shrimper and his family.

Oh yeah, according to Lisa Robinson, he wears “it” to the left.

A WORD FROM THE COMPETITION

“Queen...oh, the English Queen, well...I think they’re going to turn out to be real good”—Robert Plant.

MORE FUN THAN ETCH-A-SKETCH!

Brian on his self-made guitar: “It took two years, It was made from the wood of a 100-year-old fireplace, cast aluminum, and the parts of an old motorcycle engine. The fuzz and phase units are built it.” Neat, Bri’! Now try building some character.

NO SIGN OF A STRUGGLE 

Freddie on the egocentricity of “We Are The Champions": ‘‘We thought it may be, but SOD IT!”

QUEEN FAX: 

FREDDIE

Astrological Sign: Virgo 

Birthday: Sept. 5, 1946

Influences: Liza Minelli, Jimi Hendrix

Ambition: a pinch to grow an inch

Education: grammar school in India, Euling College of Art

Previous Occupation: graphic designer/illustrator

Likes: being stared at

Dislikes: "pockets in trousers"

Birthplace: Zanzibar

Last Book Read: "book?"

Quote: "Touring makes me feel like a vulture's crotch."

ROGER

Astrological Sign: Leo

Birthday: too coy to‘fess

Influences: Yardbirds. Who, Dylan, Lennon, Hendrix and “himself"

Ambition: "to go supernova"

Education: London Dental College

Previous Occupation: gentleman’s outfitter

Likes: vitamins

Dislikes: death

Birthplace: Norfolk

Last Book Read: “Read?"

Quote: “Leave me alone. Reek."

BRIAN

Astrological Sign: Cancer

Birthday: ditto Roger

Influences: Clapton, Beck, Davey O’List

Ambition: "penguin"

Education: earned B.A. in physics at some mystery college

Previous Occupation: teacher

Likes: eating on the phone

Dislikes: hepatitis

Birthplace: "the country"

Last Book Read: “Last?”

Quote: "Live LPs are a copout!"

JOHN

Astrological Sign: Leo

Birthday: Aug: 19, 1951

Influences: Yes; The World, "60 cycles" (?)

Ambition: death to all writers

Education: Chelsea College of Electronics

Previous Occupation: stand-in

Likes: “shiny rubber vests, rope, elastic, raincoats’’

Dislikes: the press

Birthplace: Leicester

Last Book Read: "?"

Quote: “I wish that writers would stop making up quotes and attributing them to me!”

PSYCHIC SUBURBANITES 

The vaned-out but still ambulatory Linney family of Hove, U.K., wrote a letter to Queen in 1974 that said the band would become “more famous than the Beatles.” “Previously,” added Brian, “they had only listened to classical music.” To show their gratitude, the guys treated the whole family to a Dirty Picnic.

TWO REASONS WHY JOHN DEACON DOESN’T LIKE THE PRESS

1. “The bass line on ‘Another One Bites The Dust’ is lifted straight out of Chic’s ‘Good Times’ as if the Sugarhill Gang never even existed!”-CREEM’80 

2. “‘We Will Rock You’ is a near-clone of Gary Glitter’s ‘Rock And Roll, Pt. 2,’ particularly the bass line.”—NME ’78.

BRIGHT LIGHTS, BIG SHITTY 

Queen’s light show is a favorite of many fans particularly when it outshines the band itself in concert. Included among the visuals: flashpots, strobes, lasers, smoke-bombs, Masonite reflectors, sub alert system, airport landing lights, industrial-strength anti-bug torches, a group of Japanese tourists with flashcubes, a roadie waving a Space Giants penlight and 247 synchronized night-beepers.

THE VACUUM EFFECT 

“When a top-flight, proven rock attraction withdraws into a period of inactivity,” states the NME Encyclopedia of Rock, “the void thus created will be filled by substitute, usually lesser-talented acts.” Okay, now guess which group made it big in ’73-’74, when Led Zep and David Bowie were too caned-out to record or tour?

HOW FREDDIE LOST HIS PANTS 

“We’d had a hectic day at Top Of The Pops and our promo man, Eric Hall, invited us out for a meal. Unfortunately, the others in the band couldn’t come, they had to go back to the studio [and do the real work— R.J.]. Anyway, I had rather a lot to drink and I seem to remember at some point in the evening that someone removed my shoes and socks and hung them over a lampshade. Then I said something along the lines of ‘well, if you’re going to take everything off, I shall remove my trousers,’ which I did. Then the manager approached and I thought he was going to throw me out, but instead he said ‘I hear you’ve got a gold disc.’ Then he presented me with a bottle of champagne.” But Freddie dear, who popped the cork?

MADAME ARNIE PREDICTS 

Cosmic spit from The Sage: “Driven by Brian May’s ukelele fixation, the band’s next LP will be entitled Queen Goes Hawaiian, featuring water chestnuts like ‘Tiny Bubbles,’ ‘Honolulu Lulu,’ ‘Hawaii Five-O Theme,' an operatic (ala ‘Boho Rhapsody’) treatment of ‘Dead Man’s Curve,’ ‘Another One Bites The Poi" and their rockabilly version of ‘Blue Hawaii’.”

ROGER TAYLOR VS. THE RUNAWAYS

CREEM Rock 'N' Roll News (June ’76): Queen’s Roger Taylor had some trouble getting into a Runaways (Kim Fowley’s new all-girl teenaged rock ’em-sock ’em act) concert at Esperanza High School in California’s conservative Orange County. When Roger and a friend arrived at the school auditiorium, it seems they were refused admittance by the teachers and the principal. “You have to let Roger in,” pleaded his friend to the principal. “He’s in Queen.” Replied the school official, “I don’t care if he’s in King. You have to leave or I’ll call the police.” And they left. Wonder what the principal did when he saw the Runaways’ show, which has been described as akin to the Stooges on a good night?

NO BALLS, TWO STRIKES 

Chicago White Sox organist Nancy has been trying to get the fans to sing along with “We Will Rock You” during Sox rallies for three years now. That is, until mid-season ’80, when she forgot the chords due to lack of use.

I FEEL PRETTY

Some Of Freddie’s Fashion Secrets: 

* Revlon “Touch ’n’ Glow” (color: toasted beige)

* Miners’ black nail polish (one coat) with rhinestones. If no rhinestones are available, substitute sparkle-covered fetuses of Rice Krispies.

* Pink Biba jammies.

* Blouses by Zandra Rhodes.

* Undies by Goodyear.

STOP CRYIN' BRIAN 

Quips From The Ever-Colorful Mr. May:

* “I don’t have the urge to do anything. ”

* “I like at least three showers a day. ”

* “I’m a very pig-headed person. ”

* “I have to steer clear of hamburgers.”

* “I don’t look yellowish to you, do I?”

* “My current girlfriend couldn’t stand me at all originally.”

* “Genotype Cointoss? What does that mean?”

Retrieved from The Creem Archive

#article #creem #queen band #freddie mercury #brian may #roger taylor #john deacon #1981

[allisoooon]

Something from Trouble Child? So excited for this one 😘😘

Klaus scratched the back of his head and tried to look innocent.  “So are you the version of Five who founded the Commission?”  He vaguely remembered Five talking about his alternate self dying in front of him.  Then he showed him part of his chest he took as a souvenir.

“Don’t change the subject, but yes.”  Five stopped and gave Klaus a curious look for a moment.  “You know what?  We’ll bypass the question of why for now.  There’s no time.”  He turned and started walking away, probably expecting Klaus to follow him.

Well, Klaus would follow him whether he wanted him to or not.  He caught up to him in two long strides.  “What are you talking about?  We're dead. We have eternity, babe.”

“We do not.  Luther gets off work in a few; I want you revived before he finds you.”

“One problem with that.”  Klaus made jazz hands.  “I’m depowered!  No ghosts, no springing up from the dead and freaking people out, no possession, none of it.”

Five rolled his eyes at him.  “You think I can check Luther’s work schedule, but I somehow missed the part where Dad took away your powers?”

“I don’t know!”  Klaus knew they had all the channels here, whatever that meant.  “You know Luther’s work schedule, but not why I...changed addresses.  What do you think is gonna happen, anyway?  I can’t do the thing!”

“I’ll take care of it.  I need you to send a message back to myself.”

“Uh, yourself is retired.”

“Yeah, like that’s going to last.”

Klaus groaned.  “I just wanna see Daaaaave.”

Five wrinkled his nose.  “Which Dave?”

“My Dave!  Mine!  The one I fell in love with in Vietnam.  The one who fell in love with me!”

Five was silent for a moment as they walked.  Klaus considered just fucking off and going about death the way he wanted, but Five spoke again.  “I don’t think he’s here.”

“What?”  Klaus scowled at him.  “You don’t even know who he is!  And he died in Vietnam!  I held him!”

“But you changed the timeline.”

“If the version of my mom who gave birth to me exists here—which I know she does, we talked and ate menudo and got really deep, actually, but I digress—what was I saying?”

“You were saying you met an alternate timeline version of your mother here even though she died childless in the timeline you were in,” Five summarized hastily.  “But it’s more than that.”

They were coming to the top of a gentle slope.  It was nice to not be out of breath.  His smoker’s lungs had been rather delicate back on earth.

“So what is it?” Klaus asked.

“If he fell in love with you, he’d probably have come and found him by now.”

“Who?”

“Him.”  They were now at the top of the slope.  Five pointed a short ways down the other side.

It was surreal to see a face so familiar.  The new addition to their conversation was lying in the grass, gazing up at the sky.  He was wearing that old patchwork coat and the smudged eyeliner Klaus had loved so much until he got sober.  After that, the homeless goth look had just been depressing.  All those dark colors.

The other Klaus sat up and blinked at him.  “Huh,” he said.  “I never thought I’d go through a boho phase, but it works.  Love the hair.”

#tua fic #preview #klaus hargreeves #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #suicide mention

[fidelixcorde]

Layer One ... the outside

Name: Taylor Lillian Borelli

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Hair Color / Style: Dark Brown, almost black, extremely curly and bouncy

Height: 5′2″

Clothing Style: Jeans, flannels, tshirts, tank tops, boots, sneakers, boho dresses

Best Physical Feature: Her eyes. Everyone she has ever known has commented on how expressive her eyes are, and so she preens when thinking about them.

Layer Two ... the inside

Fears: Failure, being abandoned

Guilty Pleasures: Milk chocolate candies, Ring Pops, singing along to goofy songs

Biggest Pet Peeve: Unnecessary noise

Ambitions for the Future: A cottage in the country side, with children of her own. Living a peaceful life with a family, no monsters to be seen.

Layer Three ... thoughts

First Thought Waking Up: Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! (at her phone’s alarm)

What You Think About Most: The Hardys, Nancy and their friends, the Winchesters, make sure to pray at the alters, work on new spells and potions, see how Angus is doing

What You Think Before Bed: No one better die 

Best Quality: Her loyalty

Layer Four ... what’s better

Single VS Group Dates: Single

Beauty OR Brains: Brains

Cats OR Dogs: Both

Layer Five ... do you

Lie: Often (it’s part of her job) but never to her loved ones

Believe In Yourself: A little too much

Believe in Love: To an extent

Want Someone: verse dependent

Layer Six ... ever been

On Stage: Yes!

Done Drugs: Absolutely

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: Only in foster homes when she was much younger, yearning to fit in sooner so that she may be loved enough to be adopted. It didn’t work. She stopped trying

Layer Seven ... favorites

Color: Green, almost all shades, but favors dark forest and emerald shades

Animal: Crows and ravens

Movie: Anything with Robin Williams, but especially Hook, Jumanji and Patch Adams. She also has a soft spot for the 2003 live action Peter Pan

Game: Baseball (sport) and Dragon Age series (video games) while Uno (card game) is her best bet at winning anything

Layer Eight ... age

Day Your Next Birthday Will Be: Monday

How Old You Will Be: verse dependent

Age You Lost Your Virginity: 15

Does Age Matter: It depends on the situation, honestly.

Layer Nine ... finish the sentence

I Love: murder My Family

I Feel: Like I have everything under control

I Hide: My Depression

I Miss: Nothing

I Wish: My abuse had never happened

Snagged from: @shesdaylight Tagging: Anyone who sees this!

#; we were borderline kids with a book of disorders (character study)

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Nathalie Emmanuel

full name: Fallon Priya Harris

nickname(s) / goes by: NA.

pronouns & gender: she/her/hers and cis woman 

sexuality: pansexual

birth date: September 20th, 1988

birth place: Brooklyn, New York

arrival to merrock: Summer 2019

housing: the suburbs

occupation: Digital Security Specialist / Hacker

work place: NA.

family: Three younger siblings aged 22-28 not living in Merrock currently

relationship status: single

PERSONALITY

At first glance Fallon is incredibly standoffish, some might even chalk it up to her intelligence level that she seems like she might be too good to talk to just anyone, but the truth is, she’s incredibly nervous around people. Even growing up in two big cities didn’t make her a social butterfly and doing the job she does for a living, seeing the things people get up hidden behind closed doors makes it hard for her to trust people. Even though that’s all that Fallon wants, to build a small friendship group, but she often struggles with how to come out of her shell. Once you do get to know her though she’s quite funny with a laid back boho vibe about her.

WRITTEN BY: Bri (she/her), est.

BACKGROUND / BIO

Intelligence broke the mold when Fallon was born, from the moment she was probably too young, books of all kinds stole her time. Growing up on the mean streets of New York City gave her some distinct advantages, garnering not only book smarts, but street smarts. When you grow up as the oldest in your family there are certain obligations that followed. Making sure her siblings were safe any time they left the house, that homework was done before school the next day. It wasn’t that they had absent parents, her parents worked hard to keep a nice roof over their head, make sure they had nice clothes, good food, but in the city that meant working a lot. Being that Fallon had too often look after her younger siblings, her time fell to building and working on computers, developing a fascination for all things dark web. Often she could be found jotting things down, tinkering around, perfecting her ability to go undetected online. When it came time for college, with the top grades she had, she took a leap and applied for some of the top universities in the country. Figure there was no chance they’d consider her, already her mind planning on attending a local university in the city. Given she didn’t have a rich family, an overly filled it resume of extracurricular activities, there was no possible way that she’d be considered. Only Fallon landed two full scholarships to Georgetown and Brown, and a slew of other acceptances. Only it was her acceptance to the University of Oxford came calling did she pack up as much as she could between four large suitcases and jump across the pond.

The next ten years would be spent blending into the world of the British, perfecting her accent, and continuing to hone her time delving into the unknown of the internet and computer science. Upon graduating from university and graduate school, Fallon was accepted into many prestige companies with the top security systems in the world. Tinkering around, figuring out the ins and outs, while working for covert projects as needed. Her knowledge of hacking is endless, employees often regarding her as one of the best. Only even as the best, the pay didn’t often show that. It wasn’t until she received a job offer, seemingly out of nowhere, in the town of Merrock did Fallon decide it was time to repack her bags and make her journey back to the United States. This job was one that paid more in six months than the job she was currently at would in two years, it was almost a no brainer, in that aspect. Fallon moved to Merrock and is often found with computer bag in hand wandering around town, making her office wherever the dark skinned woman sits. Perks of being able to hack, you could do it from anywhere. Given she works in highly classified security systems, she often keeps to herself, finding herself more cautious than she used to be when she lived in New York City or even when she first entered university. Often slightly paranoid people were watching, or judging her for her sometimes – more often than not, nerdy personality. Her only ability to clear her mind when she zones out while doing her twice weekly yoga classes or when she’s wandering through her garden, letting those pieces of what she does for work behind closed doors.

#merrockbio #fallonharris

[mysterymirrors]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NWOT Lulus Grand Entrance Sequin Embroidered Bodycon 2 Piece Dress - White - S.

[imperfectly360]

This is a poem called loml, I hope you enjoy it.

Bae is my favorite boy toy. He's the flashiest piece of heavy weight plastic out there and he looks like a dumpster truck mated with a g.i Joe and I hope you can fit all that in a picture. He makes me want to buy a knock off Barbie from the dollar store and swing hammers at her squishy hallow non metallic head. That action figurine sits at the top of a pile of dirt and watches as I bully stupid dollar store Barbie because she's from a weird country, is basic, has no style, boring, and has no personality. Then I pop her head and limbs off and put them in a dollar store brand trick or treat bucket and pour hot cinnamon apple juice inside it. She has no hair to begin with but I make sure to snip off all her hair along with the mixture. Then I put dirt inside the bucket so she knows her true self worth and dignity as a loser. Infact, I stole that stupid girl named []. I then proceed to clothes pin that bad boy up in a electric line and hope she gets hit by lightning or eaten by wolves. She deserves it for being born a monster. I hope she suffers. Bae comes clunking around. I tell him there's nothing left to see. She is gone with the wind. So you can scuttle along. What is there to miss? Her weirdly pale, tan smooth skin with a line of plastic where the two molds meet. The way her toes are webbed cause she's an imposter, or the way her hair looks like she has lichen planus. So no thank you. Girl who has no mouth or tongue or esophagus. Creepy. We cannot accept this kind. She needs to be destroyed. If I had not snipped off that hair, the synthetic hair of hers would surely have gone to her ribcage. Whatever that means. Her body is distorted, how good could her actual person be. I'm pretty sure her name is Mallory at this point. Gay ass Mallory. She loves ropes. Nerd ropes, fruit rollup, ropey hair, ropey belt, ropey watch. Ropey earring. Get a life. Sheesh. What is she, nautical and boho? Yeah right. She can dangle her new rope engagement ring from the literal shed and moo a long. Cause she's marrying a cow that I'm eating for dinner. Oh and you know what else?. Your lipstick looks like turd shit. Haha. And by the way, Mr. Clunker does not want to fadangle with you. He's too busy telling the world that poor people need to marry poor people cause that's how the earth is turning on its axle. Like only then will a poor boy find true love. And a poor girl lose weight. So honk honk right back at you. Also, girl with no lips. You look like you eat food with no fingers cause you just bop apples all day like a horse. Yeah. Neigh neigh. So no more spa ghetto for you. Adios. "One that is destined for failure". We don't want your kind here. Remember that. And also silly girl... Weird boy toy feels bad for you. But there is nothing that can be done now. It is too late. So we are gunna shed no more tears for you- loser. You are nothing but a mud pie. Continue to eat snails and your mucus membranes will call you mom. "Mommy" have a good life. We don't want your kind here.

Kiss my Mallory.

And freak you

:)

I hate you. End of story.

[tangerinefrench]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LIV LOS ANGELES Green Boho Embroidered Top, Size L.

[seovg]

Dress Your Child in the Colors of the World: Muray is Redefining Diversity in Kids' Fashion

In a world that's becoming increasingly connected, the desire to celebrate diverse cultures has never been stronger - especially when it comes to outfitting our little ones. Enter Muray, a clothing brand that's captivating parents and kids alike with its stunning collection of globally-inspired kids' wear.

Launched in 2020, Muray was born out of a passion project. As parents themselves, the brand's founders recognized a glaring gap in the market - the lack of truly authentic ethnic fashion options for children. "We wanted our kids to be able to embrace their cultural heritage through their clothing, but the choices were limited," explains co-founder Sarah Lim. "That's when we decided to create a brand that would allow children of all backgrounds to express their identity with pride."

And express themselves they do. From traditional Indian kurtas to Chinese-inspired mandarin collar tops, Muray's designs are a vibrant tapestry of global influences. Each piece is crafted with meticulous attention to detail, utilizing premium natural fabrics and authentic embellishments that bring the garments to life.

"Our design process starts with an immersive exploration of different cultural fashion traditions," shares Lim. "We then interpret those timeless elements in a modern, kid-friendly way that resonates with today's families."

The result is a collection that's not only visually stunning, but imbued with genuine cultural significance. Take the brand's Balinese Floral Maxi Dress, for instance - its flowing silhouette and captivating batik-inspired print pay homage to the rich textile heritage of Indonesia. Or the Moroccan Boho Top, its intricate embroidery and tasseled hem evocative of North African craftsmanship.

Beyond the aesthetic allure, Muray is also committed to ensuring its clothes are as functional as they are fashionable. Each garment is thoughtfully designed with children's comfort and ease of wear in mind, featuring adjustable waistbands, flexible fabrics, and playful, kid-proof details.

"We want Muray pieces to be more than just beautiful," says Lim. "They need to be durable enough to withstand the rough-and-tumble of childhood, and practical enough for busy parents to love dressing their kids in them day-to-day."

This focus on both style and substance has clearly struck a chord. In the two short years since its launch, Muray has amassed a devoted following of parents seeking to immerse their little ones in diverse cultural experiences - whether that's through everyday wear or special occasion outfits.

"Seeing children of all backgrounds proudly wearing our designs is the most rewarding part," beams Lim. "It's a tangible reminder that fashion has the power to build bridges, celebrate differences, and instill a sense of global citizenship from a young age."

As Muray continues to grow, the brand's founders remain steadfast in their mission to champion diversity and inclusivity in the kids' fashion space. With exciting new collections on the horizon, the future looks bright for this trailblazing label that's dressing children in the vibrant colors of the world.

[thisgirlsells]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: ASOS Black Flowy Festival Boho Tiered Ruffle Sexy Cold Shoulder Top blouse shirt.