The large glass windows allowed a view of the whole showroom. Newer to old fashioned country, they appeared to carry a little bit of everything. Soft music welcomed them, then came the comforting aromas, eucalyptus in one direction, lavender, vanilla in different areas.
A rapid click clack click clack turned to a soft pat pat pat pat as they were approached from behind the receiving desk to the carpeted floor. The woman’s auburn hair twisted high on her head with curls still flowing down and over her shoulders. Coils bounced like springs, her steps in a happy cadence extending an outstretched hand, her smile bright and welcoming.
“Hi, I’m Joleen Kerry, Design Specialist here at Friendly Furnishings. How may I help you furnish your home? Is there anything in particular you are looking for?”
“Our daughter and her partner need to furnish their rooms. They will decide what they want.” Drake answered politely.
“Do we have a budget we’re working within?” She cocked her head. “Do we need to apply for credit?” Her head tilted the other way. “There’s a ten percent off of a complete set if you —”
“No, thank you. We won’t need credit. It will be a cash sale.” Kai stopped her. “Let them choose. We’ll decide if we agree.”
“Lovely! Here’s my card, please let me know when you’re ready and I’ll help you.”
While they spoke with her, Toby and Kadie had started looking, disappointed with the sets in front. As they moved towards the back they found more to their interest behind partitions. Once the Dads approved, they discussed different wood finishes and swatches.
A few thousand dollars later they were headed to the appliance store downtown for a TV. The furniture would be delivered during the week.
Now to get through dinner… Toby kept reminding himself to breathe. Every once in a while he’d get a squeeze on his shoulder from Drake or Kai.
so @obsessiveshayme believed in this even when they probably shouldn’t have so here, have some sidgeno #dormlyfe smut. also, i know that this is bad and short and that i dont know how dicks work sometimes.. please give me a Break.
update: i’m reposting this because tumblr is shit.. sorry for the spam
Sid let Geno and himself into his small 14′ by 10′ dorm room and locked the door behind him. The room was stupidly small, more of a prison cell than “on-campus housing,” but the location was decent enough that Sidney was willing to overlook the fact that the cinder block walls and uniform furniture didn’t drain the soul from his body every second he spent in that room.
Both sides of the room were set up exactly the same, starting with the armoir, a desk and chair, and then the XL twin bed. Sidney’s side, on the right, was cluttered but clean, while his roommates was worse. Much worse. Luckily for them, though, Jack was gone until the evening, which left the whole room just to Sidney and Geno,between the hours of one and three in the afternoon.
When Sidney turned away from the door, he saw his boyfriend, completely naked except for the tight boxer briefs he always wore. Sidney raised an eye.
“What? I’m just get comfortable,” Geno said without an ounce of sheepishness. “Besides, have only thirty minutes until lab.”
do you think the transformations were quick, like in the end when we see it just wash over the castle and yay everythings good but what it Agathe had to individually turn each person, the main servants turned first cause they were in the room and probably wouldn't run away (maybe they tried) but the kitchen staff hiding down there in fear with the candles all blown out in the dark hoping the witch doesn't find them, young maids running screaming down the corridoors as Agathes slowly coming
she’s just one long shadow, going through the halls. they heard her cloak dragging on the floor and they run, they run, and they try to hide.
One man tried to hide in les toilettes. Bad idea.
Cuisinier hasn’t heard the fuss; he was leaning over his stove, trying to fix a faulty iron plate. The stove is roaring with heat—he’s still cooking; even if the stove is broken, there must be hot spiced wine for the Prince before bed!—and he doesn’t hear her come, and he only just glances around as she comes. He is disdainful, overcome with the sweat of the stove, and doesn’t have two hands to rub together to spare for her.
When he wakes up, the stove is cold. He is very cold. The spiced wine has gone sour from the chill.
Those who try to run, and get far enough outside the palace doors to think they are safe, find themselves swallowed by the walls. The stone reaches right out and eats them, and leaves them only their hands, lanterns clutched in the palms. They have a vague sense of sight and sound, but nothing else besides.
Little maids see their best friends transformed in front of their eyes. Footmen stare in dim horror at writing-desks and pincushions that sit, quiet, where their friends just were. Or, worse, their friends vanish entirely, leaving no trace, and somewhere far away there is the crash of heavy furniture finding it has a soul. And before they can run or cry or act human at all, Agathe has turned her eyes to them: and then its quiet, again, quiet as every heartbeat but one goes dead.
The Castlevania series, summarized in one sentence each
Go kill Dracula.
["Pick up the pieces" by Average White Band begins playing]
Go kill Dracula's portrait painting.
Go kill Dracula because god dammit I just got married and it's a good thing I had this leather kilt and chain whip under my tuxedo.
The Castlevania Adventure:
Go kill Dracula while wearing soggy boots.
Invoke the power of friendship, but not more than once at a time.
Super Castlevania IV:
Guess what? Dracula still needs killin', so get to it, buster! And don't spend too much time playing with the whip because you're on the clock. Chop chop!
Go kill Dracula and probably also your son because vampire hunter parenting is hard.
Rondo of Blood:
Go kill Dracula as a 13-year-old girl, with doves and a cat, then tell him how disappointed you are and how big a meanie he is.
It's way harder and you can't be a 13-year-old girl and throw cats at Dracula anymore but some people still like it, for....some reason?
Go kill Bram Stoker's Dracula because there obviously can't have been more than one version of the story and they must all be connected, _riiiiiiight_?
Symphony of the Night:
Who's the black magic priest that's a rez-machine to all the vamps? SHAFT! (You're damn right.)
Go kill Dracula and then have a baby with his son, so that baby can grow up to also kill Dracula (until you get written out of the timeline).
You're a Belmont except you're not, but you still act like a Belmont except when you don't, and also a little girl can go kill Dracula if you really want.
Legacy of Darkness:
Aaaoooooo, Werewolves of London.
Go kill Dracula, now with leather fetish gear and rockin' red-pink hairdo.
Circle of the Moon:
_Waaaahhhh_ I wanted the whip but you got it instead, not that it matters because Igarashi pretends none of this ever happened.
Harmony of Dissonance:
We really, really just wanted to make Simon's Quest and Symphony of the Night again, and Igarashi has this weird thing about furniture.
Aria of Sorrow:
YOUR SOUL IS MINE. [Mortal Kombat theme begins playing]
Lament of Innocence:
So it turns out that generations of Belmonts have all essentially been wielding this one guy's dead wife for a thousand years or so, and nobody thought to question this until now? (also NATHAN SPENCER IS A BELMONT HEADCANON CONFIRMED)
Dawn of Sorrow:
I'm Dracula! No, *I'm* Dracula! No, *neither* of you are Dracula now get in the car or nobody gets any ice cream!
Curse of Darkness:
Y'know how Dracula has a huge army at his disposal? Go play as the guy that made those armies except he's not a bad guy anymore because reasons. Also more leather fetish stuff, because I guess someone enjoyed it the last couple times?
Order of Shadows:
An obscure relative of the Belmont Clan goes and does the usual Belmont thing because for some reason people wanted to kill Dracula on a Java phone.
Portrait of Ruin:
Go kill this other guy that isn't Dracula while a know-it-all schoolgirl tags along and slaps people with encyclopedias and sometimes turns you into a frog.
Portrait of Ruin alternative joke:
Go kill not-Dracula and his not-daughters with the POWER OF FRIENDSHIP.
Dracula X Chronicles:
We finally get the good Dracula X in English, except you have to play through a weird remake of it to unlock the good stuff.
Order of Ecclesia:
Go kill Dracula by resurrecting Dracula with the thing that's supposed to kill Dracula, then using the thing that's supposed to resurrect Dracula to kill yourself in order to kill Dracula, then your best friend who's been trying to kill you the whole time takes the bullet because he secretly just wants to see you smile for him.
Our timelines are completely fucked up, so let's fuck them up even more by having the personification of time summon a bunch of random Belmonts and make them fight each other.
We're so sorry that the Game Boy one sucked so much, so here's an apology...about 19 years later.
People really wanted Symphony of the Night on phones, so we took Super Puzzle Fighter 2 Turbo and threw Alucard into it because iPhone users won't care.
Harmony of Despair:
Left 4 Dead is really popular guys, and people really want a high-def Castlevania game, so let's take the DS games, throw co-op into them, and let the player zoom out to see the whole castle at once because that's not totally unplayable or anything.
Lords of Shadow:
God of Whip: Chains of Belmont.
Lords of Shadow alt joke:
What a horrible night to have a quick-time event.
Lords of Shadow alt-alt joke:
A glorious waste of Sir Patrick Stewart, and oops I guess you're actually Dracula.
Mirror of Fate:
People really wanted another classic-style Castlevania so we said "to hell with them" and made the one nobody liked into a 2D game like nobody could tell the difference.
Lords of Shadow 2:
Castlevania and Metal Gear had a baby and this is exactly why inbreeding is illegal in most states.
We really wish Sonya Belmont was canon, guys. Also another Belmont with a gun.
Go kill Dracula. Oh wait, YOU'RE Dracula. Go kill Galamoth.
Wai Wai World:
A superhero, a scantily clad robot girl, a samurai, a pipe-wielding ninja bandit, a Moai head, King Kong, and Mikey from The Goonies join Simon Belmont to go kill...uh...something?
Wai Wai World 2:
Simon Belmont joins a machine-gun-wielding mercenary and a baby (among others) to go kill more shit.
@pangur-and-grim I noticed people tagging you in kitty photos and thought I’d show you my favourite nerd.
This is Frank he’s a lovely kitty and he knows it. His lack of a tail will never stop him from attempting to wiggle said non-existent tail. His favourite activities include laying on the back of furniture and grabbing any unfortunate souls that happen to pass by and laying in the bathtub for extended periods of time.
Are there any dangers to raising a Litwick/its evolution line?
Just the standard fire/ghost concerns (setting things aflame, stealing keys and taking them through a locked door, charring furniture). The whole “steal-the-soul” thing is just superstition. Kind of like black cats bringing bad luck.
Summary: Never in her wildest dreams did she think her butler would end up being her boyfriend, yet there they were. Soul, the man who was only meant to be hired help around the house, helped her with so much more. From being her friend to her boyfriend to the center of her sexual desires. He had seeped into her life slow and steady. Butler AU.
Story Summary: After over a half decade at Shibusen, Soul is finally returning home to attend his brother’s wedding, bringing his meister with him for moral support. When a misunderstanding forces Soul and Maka to pretend they are in a different sort of partnership, will it lead to fate or folly?
This chapter marks the first switch to Soul’s POV, which will happen only a few times in this story. It made it particularly difficult to get down. As usual, thanks to rebornfromash and ilarual for their support and superb beta work–this would be much crappier without them.
Soul had no words, his mind blank and numb at his own actions as he trailed after his brother to slide into the passenger seat of the small black SUV because he’d just kissed his meister. He’d just kissed his meister, and it had been fantastic at the same time it was horrible because he’d sprung it on her and in the end it was just a part of this stupid fucking game they’d been forced to play, that he had practically begged her to play, and it wasn’t fair that something that was just an act had felt so real and good and right. He wanted to shout his elation to the heavens at the same time he felt like crying his despair because how long had he wished he could do that? How many dreams had he had of kissing her, more than kissing her? And yet, to do it like this, a part of some cruel farce, was never what he’d wanted.
Was it wrong that he was glad that his first kiss was with Maka even if it wasn’t real? Even if he was the only one for whom it actually meant something? It was pathetic, true, that he was nineteen and had never before kissed a girl, but when the only girl you’d ever actually wanted to kiss was your partner of seven years who wanted nothing to do with you or anyone romantically, it did tend to make things pretty fucking difficult.
Then again, maybe it was just him she didn’t want. Soul knew it wasn’t her first kiss, though who and when she had kissed someone else was something she’d never been willing to tell him, only that it happened. He had to fight down the dark tendrils of jealousy that clawed at his heart at the thought because, really, who did he have to blame for the knowledge but himself?
He remembered teasing her that no one would want to kiss a violent bookworm when he was young and stupid and oblivious to his own growing feelings, to the fact that he, in fact, wanted to kiss a violent bookworm, and she had haughtily replied that at least she had actually been kissed. He remembered, though they were only fourteen, feeling the wave of sickening shock hit him at the knowledge because even then, so long ago, he had somehow come to think of her as his Maka. The only problem was, Maka was not some possession and she had never belonged to anyone, least of all him. He might desperately wish to possess her heart as fully as she had long since possessed his, however unwittingly, but you could wish in one hand and shit in the other, as the saying went, and all that wishing had done for him was end in a lot of long, hot showers alone.
The scythe was pulled from his near brooding by a light cough, his brother turning a questioning gaze to him for an instant before returning his eyes to the road.
‘‘welcome to my humble adobe, please take off your shirt and make yourself home.’‘ lorenzo was sitting at the dinner table, a cup of tea in his right hand. he smirked at the visitor; the loft almost empty. he really needed to go shopping for furnitures.