𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝙻

@mqryalice​ said: 'thank you for helping me with this. it’s much better with your company’ - mqryalice for Susan

       ❝ oh please, ❞ susan laughs, ❝ i’ve done two houses now. i feel like i’m practically an expert. besides… i like it. i find it… kind of SOOTHING. i don’t know. ❞ she shrugs, grinning over at the taller woman before catching sight of the smudge of paint across mary alice’s cheek. ❝ oh, you have something just… here. ❞ she puts her own paint down and steps closer to the other, gently brushing the paint off with her thumb. it’s only then that she notices how close she is. ❝ i… SORRY… ❞ her voice is higher, breathier, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. ❝ i just wanted to… you had some paint… ❞

‘Of course’, she murmurs, more to herself than to the other woman, distracted by just how many papers the woman was carrying. She carefully begins gathering up the papers, collecting the ones with the blue dots first now that she’s been told they’re important, not wanting them to blow away. ‘And please, don’t worry about it. I was distracted myself’. She shoots the woman a smile before she returns to the task, and adds, ‘what are these for, if you don’t mind me asking?’ 

         I would not. I would NOT! Anne’s heart trips in time to the melody of Mrs Young’s words. Each of its love-drunken stumblings sends lightning strikes of pleasure along her spine. Well - !! She shall no longer hesitate, then — what a crudeness of soul it would take to deny them both the fulfilment they crave! Her gaze settles its heated weight across the woman’s lips; a caress, a demand, an urgent memorising of the world’s sweetest sight. Then, eyes fluttering shut, she conquers the distance between them with a sigh of delectation and kisses the rose-soft mouth she has coveted all too long. Her palms treasure the flower-bringer’s finely sculpted cheeks with utmost delicacy, thumbs tracing the warm skin as she drops kiss after kiss after kiss upon the beloved features. 

         Her affection is timid, at first, a shyness that is not entirely simulated, yet soon melts away when Mrs Young opens herself to her romantic advances. Anne tastes her, then, sampling the gleam of her teeth, her saccharine tongue — oh, how fondly and passionately she dotes on her friend!, cherishing her with mouth and fingertips, basking freely in the tingles that blossom beneath her ribs. A proper embrace, surely, is needed now - a dearer closeness, a better intimacy still! 

         “ Come, ” she whispers into the excitement of their kiss, breath in tatters with the joy born by their union, “ sit on my knee, darling mine. Let me bring you comfort. ”

She’s never been kissed quite like this, with such sweetness and tenderness, like she’s something to be treasured. Anne’s hands are warm against her cheeks, and her own hands slide up the woman’s arms, fingers caressing muscle beneath soft fabric. She takes a sharp breath when Anne pulls away, for a moment stunned by how it felt before she leans forwards again, reluctant to be parted from her. A soft sound leaves her throat, something close to a moan, her hands sliding over Anne’s shoulders to curve around the nape of her neck, pressing herself closer without thought for propriety of holding herself back. 

Happiness. Oh, don’t many people want happiness captured in a picture? While photographs can provide to capture a happy moment, Judy doesn’t necessarily believe it is possible to generalize it.    ❝ I think of… flowers, and family. A day in a field. Warm colors, a kind smile. When I think of happiness, I think of something that makes your heart beat faster, skip a beat, and be absolutely calm all at ones. A warm embrace. Safety. ❞    Judy lets the words fall from her lips, barely realizing what she says. Her words contain a hint of sadness too, knowing some of these things aren’t meant for her. A family. But it’s still happiness.

       ❝ thank you for inviting me over, ❞ susan manages, sipping at her water with a smile. ❝ i really hope it’s not causing you too much trouble. maybe you can give me THE LAY OF THE LAND while i’m here. i feel like i can’t keep all the names straight… i barely felt like i got them in my old neighborhood and then BAM… here i am, moving again. ❞

@mqryalice​

@mqryalice​ said: smash or pass + lynette

        ❝ uh… well… you know. i mean, i’d be LYING if i said i’d never thought about it. smash… yeah. ❞

Hands quickly wipe away the couple of stubborn tears that dared to fall despite her best efforts to avoid them. Louisa feels pathetically small and exposed, the lines that kept them at a safe distance — employer and employee — had started blur, she wonders if that’s an unavoidable consequence of their living arrangements.

With a gentle smile, she accepts the offer “Tea is perfect, thank you”, something stronger sounded even better but if Michael were to come back (she hopes he does in a moment and that he doesn’t the next), he’d probably use that against her as well. Neglectful, distant and now adding potential alcoholic to the pile. He adores hyperbole.

“Me too” Louisa, who usually kept quiet for the sake of peace, had one of those days where quiet wasn’t enough. She bit her tongue more than she probably should but still knew how to fight back, especially in light of what she perceived to be hypocrisy and a slap in the face of the things they’d agreed upon before having children — the cataclysm for their heated argument being what Lou would do once maternity leave was over: he thought she should stay at home, she vehemently disagreed. With curiosity and a desire to start doing damage control, she asks “How much did you hear?”

Mary Alice squeezes her hand quickly, and then rises to make the tea. She’s always been good at this, at being someone people can talk to, someone they feel safe with, and she’s glad of that, now. She takes up her seat beside Louisa while she waits for the kettle to boil, and takes her hand again. Sometimes she’s found that simple physical contact does more than words ever could. ‘I... heard most of it, I’m afraid’.

‘I’d like something that makes me feel happy, when I look at it’. Mary Alice smiles slightly, a wry laugh escaping her. ‘I know that’s not very... do you need something more specific?’ Truthfully, she hopes Judy has ideas of her own. The problem is simply that Mary Alice has lost most of what did make her happy, and has no idea what she’d ask for, now. She hesitates, and then adds, ‘what do you think of, when you think of happiness?’ 

mutuals can reply.

death stands tall , shrouded in black before them.   eyes are soft , but she shakes her head ,  bowing slightly.    there will be no hand extended.    “  it is not your time.   i’m afraid i must insist that you remain in the land of the living. "   morana does not only grant death ,  but occasionally she must also deny it.   "  do you understand ? ”

➥  a plotted starter for @mqryalice​ 

acoustics: that was one thing they should’ve taken more deeply into consideration when buying the house — they looked at the original wooden floors, a back patio, large basement… but who cares about these things when it’s deep into the night and you’ve just had the fight of a lifetime with your husband ( or whatever he was now, after storming out to do god knows what ) and it might have been loud enough for the neighbours to hear it.

what would they think? she pondered, sitting in the kitchen, trying to calm herself down with a glass of water. it said a lot about the state of their marriage when one of the first things in louisa’s head was whether or not the neighbours had heard their rather heated discussion. but hey, at least it didn’t wake up the children this time, so that was a bonus.

the emptiness around her is overbearing — even when they fought in the past, michael never walked out. sleeping in the guest bedroom maybe, but never abruptly leaving. going upstairs and sleeping felt almost… wrong, in a sense. solitude doesn’t haunt her for much longer, with the door that connected the house to the basement apartment opens — the nanny, she’d almost forgotten about her amidst the chaos. fucking acoustics.

“ mary alice, oh god, i hope we didn’t awaken you ” louisa can feel herself turning red in embarrassment with the thought of the other woman having heard them “ i’m so, so sorry ”

Mary Alice really hadn’t intended to listen in on the argument, but it was almost impossible not to hear everything from her basement apartment. The echoes were far too loud, and she’d spent much of it trying to make herself busy, boiling the kettle and making much more noise than she usually would, hoping that perhaps they’d hear her, and realise she could hear them. But if anything, the volume only seemed to increase, and her heart ached for Louisa in a way she couldn’t ignore. 

When the house suddenly falls silent, she’s more worried than relieved. She hurries upstairs to find Louisa sitting alone, and the misery in the woman’s face says more than a thousand words. ‘Oh, sweetie’, she murmurs, forgetting her place as the nanny, not a friend, and hurrying forwards to place a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder, ‘no, please don’t apologise’. She gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and murmurs, ‘let me get you something to drink, alright? Would you like some tea, or something stronger?’ She lifts her free hand to silence the objection she’s sure will come, giving her a soft smile. ‘I baked some cookies with the children yesterday. There might be a few left over’. It’s a small, measly thing to offer after everything she’s heard, but it’s something. 

How can this woman possibly know how she feels? That is of course her first instinct. Astra is used to being a lone bastion against all threats, untouchable and immovable. But those days are past her now and she has to change. But change, even when one recognizes it has to happen, if difficult on the best of days. So instead she just sighs. “I can’t particularly agree. Being here isn’t an indication of a mistake or not a mistake. Don’t misunderstand me as I do understand what you are trying to say. But surviving doesn’t necessarily have the magical meaning that people seem to think it does. It just means I am lucky.” 

Her brow furrows slightly, and she senses something heavy behind his lighthearted words. She takes his hand, reaching up to brush dark hair out of his face, and murmurs, ‘maybe I am. But...’ 

Her teeth dig into her lower lip, and she sight softly, rubbing her thumb over the back of his calloused knuckles. ‘I’m not used to... feeling like this. Like I... like I’m important to someone. Like they want me in every way I want them’. She smiles, a small, almost hesitant curl of her lips. ‘You do make me feel special, Ben. More than you could possibly know’. 

@mqryalice​ sent: 'he did what to you?‘  Protect your local butch !!

        QUITE the glare is tossed into her lady’s direction, though it rather suffers from the lopsidedness that results from sporting a black eye; and thus loses a certain portion of its efficacy. Truly, there is no greater thorn in Anne’s side than redundancy in all things, first and foremost in worry. Must the woman ask? Is her bruised face not answer enough, and does her sullen mien not denote how LITTLE she wishes to speak of the affair?!

         Anne’s half-gaze drops into the distance. She averts her roughed-up features with a defiant twitch of her head. If she is loath to give account of her kerfuffle by the road-side, then it fills her with a more fearsome reluctance still to be witnessed in its unattractive aftermath. Certainly, thinks she, by her dear Mrs Young, who should NEVER be given reason to think her anything but admirable! 

        “ You ought sooner ask what I did to him, ” Anne mutters, pulling forth her handkerchief and pressing it rather gruffly against her swollen cheek-bone. “ The drunk wretch. ” Well, well: how disagreeable is she with her treasured friend! But surely, there will be time and opportunity enough to patch up whatever injuries offence has slain. Not now, though. First, she must follow the needs of the heart: some brandy, and a good deal of solitude in subsequence. THIS, after all, is nothing flowers may help with.

The panic that overtook her when she first saw Anne in such a state is finally beginning to ease, replaced by concern and a little exasperation at her brusqueness. She reaches for her, taking her hand and lifting bruised knuckles to her eyes, inspecting them with a soft hum. She presses her lips to the hinge of her thumb, where her skin is free of dirt, and gives her a tug. She leads her without comment into the kitchen, where she sits her down in a chair with a quiet, yet firm command. ‘Sit’. 

bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other .

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other .

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other .