[ Stirring beneath the fluffy weight of light pink tulle, Aerith cracks one eye open at the sound of the device around her wrist buzzing for her attention - the message waiting to be read is as inexplicable as the giant skirt she’s buried underneath and the sound of strange breathing beside her.

Her arm lowers, slowly pushing the fabric she’s ensconced in aside so that she can peer out and catch a glimpse of the person beside her.

Interesting.

Whoever they are, they’re still konked out, so Aerith takes great pains to be as careful and quiet as she can, climbing out of the bed while battling her massive skirt, deciding that it’s probably for the best to put space between her and the person the message she received implies she married, considering they’re all but bound to have an awkward conversation once they wake.

Poofy skirt tamed down, revealing the form-fitting tuxedo printed t-shirt she’s got on as a top, Aerith crosses the suite with limited rustling, pausing once she catches sight of the breakfast spread.

Strange circumstances or no - the lure of the mini quiche is enduring and whenever her new spouse decides to come to and join her, they’ll find her posted up by the breakfast, mimosa in one hand, tiny quiche in the other, which she’ll wave in greeting. ]

Hi! I don’t remember how we got here, but the food’s pretty good!

But I’m already cute!

[ Aerith counters once the trio in the painting lay out their demands.

Unfortunately logic never got an elevator to start running again, magic paintings or otherwise, and even though she feels her point is incredibly valid, the ladies in the portrait respond in tittering laughter, all too pleased as they point out that they want to see her being cute with the other person stuck in this car with her.

Obstinately pointing out that the person she’s with is cute too doesn’t get her far, and once it seems like the painting is done offering its course correction she huffs, hands going to her hips as she looks at her traveling companion for this elevator right. ]

Well…[ Her head tilts to the side, as though she’s weighing it all out. ] What do you think?

[ It’s a cake.

It’s a cake big enough for more than one person to lay on, outfitted with dollops of cream, sparkling confectionary glitter, and mountains of tempting-looking red berries.

So of course she’s going to sprawl out and have a snack while the more lively of the cake enjoyers bounce around elsewhere on the big chocolate cheesecake. It gives her time to get her bearings, still swathed in soft pink tulle, a hunk of cake in her hand that she takes bites out of after dipping it in the nearest peak of cream.

In her lap is a coupon for nipple buns, which she looks over with tentative curiosity, waiting until someone’s close enough before speaking up. ]

Do you think they’re buns for your nipples, or buns made out of nipples? Or do they just look like nipples?

[ Surreal times call for surreal questions. ]

[ or choose chaos and drop a wildcard based on any of the other prompts, feel free to send a dm if you'd like to plot something specific or have any questions. happy to match tagging format, 18+ all genders for smut. ]