#...I could probably fix that with some strategically placed floor tiles

[msbarrows]

So, as of the latest time I've updated my video card drivers, the screen capture utility I've been using for ages is suddenly once again able to actually capture my screen properly in games such as No Man's Sky. There was a process by which I could force a screen capture prior to this, but it involved hitting the screenshot hotkey, toggling out of and then back into the game, and then screenshotting a second time. This process would get the second capture to be a largely unprocessed version of the screen; the toggling seemed to force the screen at the time of toggling out into a buffer that the screen capture software could then see and read from (the first screen capture is whatever was on screen the previous time you toggled, but if you don't create it the buffering doesn't seem to occur). This was not exactly a rapid process, and the image quality also wasn't noticeably any better than the game's in-built screenshot tool. It's only real benefit was that it preserved the in-galaxy address displayed in the lower left corner, so prior to this I only used it when grabbing shots of things like starships or particularly interesting multitools.

So I've now gone from only being able to get jagged low-quality screenshots that don't have things like anti-aliasing happening, to actual decent quality screenshots, with just one capture and no toggling required. You can see the very distinct difference this makes in image quality between the first two pictures shown here.

Which of course meant I had to run around my current WIP base and take good-quality screenshots of it to show off :D

This is a semi-randomly placed base on an ice planet; I found one of those spots with a base computer in the middle of a large flat area (legacy of back when bases could only be built in specific locations and were one per save, I believe - which was before my time so that's based off of old forum posts). There were a few cave mouths in the hillsides bordering the flat area, including one particularly round one that had a very strong "that's a mine entrance" vibe to me from the way it was set into a recessed slope.

I'd been thinking of doing an on-planet frostwort farm instead of making a big gardening area for them on my freighter, because harvesting from biodomes is more plants gathered at a time (7-8 instead of 4, though they are more spread out). I decided yeah, this would be a fun place to build something (despite its lack of a power hotspot or resource node nearby) and hence ended up with this small mining-town-inspired base.

It has three mine entrances (01 is the original mine-like location), a biodome structure, starship pad with adjoining structure, a bar, powerhouse, etc. One of the caves behind the mine entrances (03) is small and very pretty with a skylight opening over top so it gets good light, and I ended up deciding to plunk my portal in there, which looks great and is only mildly dangerous when the scant handful of toxic plants have regenerated (I can live with that).

Still need to dress the interiors of a couple of the buildings, and possibly build some more of them. Have been having fun working on it for a couple of days already.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Powerful Ch. 2

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU*

Warnings: Misogyny (not from Shouta), a dagger, kinda fluffy

Word Count: 3.5 k

Author’s Note: This is turning out pretty good, I think. It’s turning into a kind of slow-burn ish thing, and as much as I can’t stand slow-burn sometimes, I’m liking it so far. If I’m being honest I feel like (hopefully) this is the thing that can help me get over my smut writing block. I haven’t been able to get myself to write smut for a while, and I’m hoping this can help me fix it.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Also, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I usually put in that little line spacer when there’s a pov change. You know, this one:

____

So yeah. And the three asterisks (except the ones at the beginning):

* * * Usually means a timeskip. If it’s unlabelled it’s only a short skip, anything over 24 hours I’ll label.

Enjoy~

*

*

*

Shouta woke you up, his rough hands rubbing your back and deep voice softly calling your name. When you let your eyes flutter open you realize you’re still on top of him, only your head is further cradled into his neck and your leg had found its way around his waist. The position had your face warming as you lifted your head and met his dark eyes.

“Good morning, little one.” He sounded groggy, like he’d just woken up himself. You pulled away and he released you so you could sit up. Off of him. You couldn’t quite hold his gaze, so you looked down at the bedsheets.

“Good morning, Shouta.” He sits up beside you, a hand grasping your chin and making you look at him.

“Am I too forward? Or are you afraid of me, little one?” You raise your eyebrows, not expecting him to really consider your own comfort.

“Can I speak freely?” He nods, and you take a breath.

“You are being just a little forward, but I think it’s only really enhanced because you’re known for being cold and unwelcoming. And also the fact that we only formally met last night.” His hand drops, and he waits for the second half of your answer. You take a moment to choose your wording, make sure you’re accurately communicating your feelings without offending him.

“While I do feel awkward and, frankly, small around you I don’t necessarily fear you. So far you’ve shown that you aren’t cruel, and though you are capable of some...violent things, I have no reason yet to believe you would be violent toward me.” A small smile tugs at his lips, a foreign thing to see.

“I assure you, I am not a violent lover. Nor will I ever be.” He reaches over and grabs your hand, lifting it to his face and leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. It’s a simple, sweet gesture that has your face and chest heating. Then he gets up and you follow him out to the living room where three large suitcases are waiting. Your suitcases, you realize, Mother and Father must have packed all your clothing and had them sent here. Shouta picks up two of them and you take the last one, returning to the bedroom.

“The closet has plenty of room, so go ahead and sort everything out. I’ll be in my office. Once you’re done just wait for me, we’ll be going out later.” You nod, and he’s disappearing into his office. For the first time, you take a good look at the room. Your room now, you remind yourself. 

It’s large, enough to fit three more king beds with plenty of spare room. The king-sized mattress sits in a black frame that was built to look like it was hovering inches off the ground, fitted with light gray sheets and a large black comforter. The entire room is illuminated by lights embedded in the ceiling, the floor a dark hardwood that matches the doors to the bathroom and walk-in closet. A table sat on either side of the bed, both painted black to match the bed frame.

The walk-in closet is big as well, though it’s much brighter than the main bedroom. The floor is smooth white tile, a white center island with a glass top looking into the top drawers that held numerous watches and ties. Most of Shouta’s clothing seems to be folded, the suits and more high-end clothing the only pieces hung up. You filled the empty spaces with your own clothing, keeping everything organized like you had back at home. With everything tucked away, you decided it was time to change out of the robe, tugging on undergarments you missed those, a pair of loose sweatpants and a racerback tank top. Then you brought the now empty suitcases back to the living room and dug through the kitchen for some breakfast.

____

Shouta emerged from his office to you humming to yourself as you worked over the stove of bacon and pancakes. He didn’t even know he had bacon, let alone the ingredients for pancakes. It was quite cute, seeing you bounce lightly along with the tune you’re humming, spatula in hand. It’s a domestic sight, completely foreign to him. He leaned on the doorframe, choosing to admire you a while longer.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come get some food?” He blinked, slightly shocked, you hadn’t even turned around to see if he was there. You must have heard the door open, though he made sure none of the doors in his home creaked. It’s an irritating noise. He made his way over to you, hooking his chin over your shoulder and placing his large hands on your waist.

He knows he’s moving a little fast with the intimacy. He’d asked you earlier, though you said you didn’t mind, you were absolutely right that it’s weird being so close so soon. In all honesty, as long as you’re alright with it he wants to continue being touchy like this. He’s never truly had any interest in naming a partner, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want company. He’s been lonely for a long time, longing for someone to hold, and while he’s absolutely sure any woman would love to court him willingly, he wants someone special.

He can’t stand the women that throw themselves at any man with power and money, most of them only in it for their own gain. If he were to announce before the ball that he was looking to name a wife, he’d probably have had a line of fawning women on their best behavior to butter him up, flirting and smiling those too-big smiles in an attempt to get a rock on their finger and power to wield at their leisure. That’s why he’d decided to watch from afar, and you struck him as different the moment he’d laid eyes on you.

The more time he spent in your company, the more he’s commending himself for picking you. You’re one of the probable few that held a semi-neutral opinion of him, not fearful nor starstruck. You’re intelligent, well-articulated, and while you have your limits you tend to go with the flow, let the wind carry you this way and that. And you’re honest with him, he has no doubt you’ll tell him if there’s a boundary he crosses.

____

You’re grateful he can’t quite tell the state you’re in right now. Shouta’s hands on your waist flustered you, more than you care to admit. Sure, he’s advancing rather quickly, but you meant it when you said you didn’t mind. You’d been forbidden from dating, made to save yourself for the strategic marriage your father had planned. For the longest time you’d wanted to be held, touched and loved by someone. And here Shouta is, fulfilling all your teenage daydreams. He has no reason to be so close behind closed doors, where no one can see you, so he must feel some sort of real attraction toward you right? Otherwise he’d be more closed off, only opting to speak on his own terms and not caring at all about you or your comfort.

You shake yourself from your thoughts and the two of you sit at the dining table, quietly eating your breakfast. It is a little awkward, but you expected as much. Shouta, like you, probably isn’t used to eating with another person. You both finish breakfast soon, and once the dishes are washed Shouta startles you with his next words.

“We’ll be leaving in an hour or two for a lunch meeting with a few other clans.” You have to take a pause and think about what he’d just said.

“We? You want me to join you?” A part of you wants him to confirm it, another hopes he doesn’t.

“Yes, I want you there with me.” Cue your confusion.

“It’s almost unheard of, having a woman in a clan meeting.” As much as you hate the patriarchy and its traditions, they are still traditions that, once challenged, could upset many people.

“Let’s say I’m breaking the status-quo. If I’m going to have a wife, she’ll be wielding my power alongside me, not just existing as a means to further the bloodline.” It becomes apparent to you that Shouta, despite his position, is very much not traditional. You turn to him and lean against the kitchen counter, crossing your arms over your chest.

“So why have you chosen me? I’m the daughter of a very low-ranked oyabun, have almost no experience compared to you and I am most definitely not someone other oyabun would approve to be your wife, let alone leading the entirety of the Yakuza.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, crossing his own arms.

“I don’t care what other oyabun may think of me or my choices, they don’t dictate what I do. As for why I’ve chosen you, it’s quite simple. I’ve known you for less than a day and it’s already obvious to me that you can take most things in stride, without allowing it to affect you emotionally. You’re good at compartmentalizing your own thoughts, can keep a level head under pressure, and that’s exactly what I need.” Your own eyebrows raise, not expecting a read like that.

“And last night as I watched you, it was clear to me that you’re skilled at masking your emotions, especially nervousness or fear. Think about what any other woman would have done, had I walked up to them and asked their name. Before I could get another word out they’d probably drop to their knees and begin begging for their lives. Most would probably faint on the spot, pounce on me, or any other number of unsavory responses after announcing a sudden engagement to me. But you? You did nothing, simply answering my question and taking my hand with no theatrics.” 

You nod slowly, mildly understanding his point. While it’s true you had almost no reaction, you’re almost sure there’d be at least a dozen other women in that hall that would have reacted the way you had. 

“Still, there must have been many others that acted like I did. For me to be so completely unique is…” You trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.

“Unlikely? Yes. Impossible? No. I trust my own judgement, little one, and you should have a little more faith in yourself. Now, let’s go get ready. I’ve already got a dress for you to wear. It’s only semi-formal, we’ll be going to a restaurant for this meeting.” You give a small sigh as you follow him into the bedroom. 

All you can do now is go along with it, whether you trust his judgement or not. Suddenly being put in a position of so much power is stressing you out a little bit, but Shouta isn’t wrong about your compartmentalization. The stress could be dealt with later, right now you have a meeting to attend.

* * *

On second thought, maybe the stress should have been dealt with earlier. Standing outside the restaurant, wrapped around Shouta’s arm is making your heart pound in your chest. You’re unconsciously squeezing his bicep, and even as he looks down at you, there's nothing on your face to indicate your nerves. You’re completely deadpanned, eyes focused and mind working overtime. Shouta’s calloused hand falls over yours, a mildly comforting gesture.

“Don’t worry, little one. The most you’ll have to do is sit still and look pretty. I’m aware of your inexperience, I don’t expect you to be put on the spot. If you are and feel uncomfortable then all you need to do is tap my leg. You’ll be fine.” You nod. The pep-talk is appreciated, but it isn’t the meeting itself you’re worried about. What kind of backlash will Shouta be getting once you enter? What will be said about his reputation afterward? All you can do is wait and see.

You stride into the venue, and are led to a private room by a hostess. You can hear the casual conversation from the open door, but once you’re inside the immediate silence is unsettling. You don’t need to look directly at the half dozen men to know all their eyes are fixed on you as you both sit at the head of the table. Shouta quickly and smoothly brings the attention off of you.

“It’s good to see you, gentlemen. Let’s get this meeting started, shall we?” The tension in the room is still palpable, the clear discomfort from the men hadn’t vanished, but their main focus now is the subject of the meeting. You sit and listen carefully as they talk about several things, from natural disaster preparations to minor territory disputes. Some of the smaller syndicates under these oyabun had spread operations outside their borders, but that was quickly settled as most was due to small misunderstandings and unclear borders. Soon the meeting was nearly coming to a close, and suddenly Shouta left to use the restroom. 

And now, you’re a lioness in a clan of hyenas.

You keep quiet, listening to their conversation and following along with the political debates to further familiarize yourself with the inner workings of the higher circle. Suddenly the table goes quiet, and you lift your eyes from the table to meet the gaze of six men that value tradition. Unsure what to do, you drop your gaze again, but don’t drop your chin, choosing to look down your nose at the wood grain. Shouta had told you to hold yourself as he does, and you make sure to try, but you know when to keep to yourself.

“Tell me, girl, what are you doing here?” You blink, not expecting to be confronted so blatantly. You look up at the man who had asked the question. He looks to be in his late forties, jet black hair graying at the temples and striking brown eyes aged and tired. He’s not thin, a little heavier-set, but it’s clear there was a point that he was fit and muscular. He’s already irked you. You nod your head, a small bow, before calmly answering.

“My name is (y/n). I would appreciate it if you could please use it, Oyabun. I am here because Shouta wants me to be here.” The man narrows his eyes at you, a small scoff comes from one of the others but you don’t avert your eyes to him.

“Well why does he want you here, girl?” The blatant rejection of your request made your blood boil, but you kept a pleasant face.

“I don’t know. If you wish to know you may need to ask him yourself, Oyabun. And please, call me (y/n).” You’re certain he won’t use your name, and you addressing it again will probably anger him, but you can’t care too much when you know you’re within your right to ask that anyone use your name. Especially when you yourself are using a title for the man.

“I’ll address you how I see fit. Just because you’re the Black Dragon’s fiance does not mean I will acknowledge you as anyone of importance.” Ah, that’s right. You had forgotten Shouta’s nickname. Black Dragon is the name people used for him, whether they were afraid of the man or in awe of him. You take an imperceptible, steadying breath. Misogyny is one of the few things that challenge your composure.

“I do not ask you to acknowledge me as a person who holds power. In fact, I am aware of my previous rank and understand that it was maybe unwise to have me here. All I ask is that you please use my name.” The near growl that escapes the man does nothing to your self-control, doesn’t even strike any kind of emotion other than irritation. At this point, the other five men seem to be siding with you, their gazes fixed on the rather aggressive-reacting oyabun with something akin to confusion. 

“Do not talk back to me, girl! I should remind you of your place here.” The other men sit in shock as he rises from his seat and begins to circle the table. He must have had tunnel vision, because Shouta’s voice cuts through the room so abruptly he freezes, his eyes snapping over to the entrance where Shouta stands, glaring daggers at him.

“Touch her, and I will personally bury you six feet under.” The man is frozen in shock, almost in disbelief. He tries, albeit weakly, to get Shouta on his side.

“O-oyabun! I… This girl, she--” 

“I believe she asked you to use her name. Politely, might I add.” He’d been listening? How long had he stood there?

“In fact, you should address her as Onna-oyabun.” Your breath caught at that, the same as the rest of the room. That title was a myth, a rarity in its own right. There were so few instances where that title was applied to a woman under such specific circumstances that it’s a mere legend today. The most recent was an old woman who had inherited her deceased husband’s clan, which was extremely small, and even that was long ago. 

Shouta’s hand landed on your shoulder, his rough thumb drawing small circles into your skin. He was silent, waiting for the older man, or anyone in the room, to oppose him. You could feel his glare in the faces of the other clans’ oyabun, the intensity of it making even you uneasy. It felt like an eternity before Shouta spoke again, venom laced in every syllable.

“I’ve chosen to let you keep all of your teeth, in favor of keeping her from seeing what violence I’m capable of. Next time, I won’t be so gracious. It’s time to go, little one.” You bow your head quickly before taking Shouta’s extended hand and strolling out of the room.

In the car, it’s silent. You have every intention of apologizing for causing a scene, though you aren’t sure if you should speak here or at home. Shouta doesn’t leave you any options.

“What is it? There’s something bothering you.” How perceptive.

“I’m sorry, Shouta.” He turns his head, his expression questioning your intelligence.

“For what? For asking to be addressed in a way that isn’t demeaning? He had no reason to ask why you were there, let alone attempt to attack you like that. I always hated that man, you’ve just given me a reason to threaten him.” You did a double-take.

“You heard everything? How long were you standing at the door?” 

“Ah. I put a bug in the metal piece on the front of your dress. I knew they might be unsavory toward you, and with me out of the room they were more likely to speak their minds.” You nearly gawked at him. No wonder he’d chosen your dress for you. 

“You never went to use the restroom.” He shook his head.

“No, I didn’t. It is I who should be apologizing, little one. The entire ordeal was intentional, as much as I hoped it wouldn’t actually take such a turn. Though I will say I was serious about that title. I fully intend to marry you, and I intend to have you by my side for every meeting from here on out.” You suck in a sharp breath at that bit of information. Marriage seemed like such an abstract concept until now, having Shouta say it somehow made it all the more solid. And to join him for every meeting? 

“As long as there are no more surprise incidents then I think I can come with you.” A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he squeezed your hand.

“Deal. Though I may need to do that a few more times just to keep some men in line.” You let yourself giggle, he must hate a few of the others as well.

“In that case I’ll help you. I was afraid he’d actually get me for a second there.” 

“Really? You didn’t even react. What if I were a split second too late?” You smirked, a mischievous little tug at your lips.

“Well if you were too late he’d have at least one stab wound and be bleeding out on the floor.” He shoots you a bewildered look before you tug up the hem of your dress, exposing a large dagger strapped to your thigh. He can’t contain his laughter, throwing his head back and wiping away at a few stray tears once he can breathe again. You can’t help but laugh with him, and notice just how handsome he looks when he’s happy, or in this case amused.

“Wouldn’t that be an unpleasant surprise.” He chuckles a bit more, getting it all out of his system before looking over at you. 

“Regardless, I won’t be letting them get that close. I’m sure you’re capable of defending yourself, and as much as I’d love to see you stab an annoying misogynist, the risk to your safety still remains. Not to mention he disregarded my warning last night. You’re untouchable, little one, he knows this and still thought he could touch even a single hair on your head.” 

You let a small smile settle on your lips, lacing your fingers with Shouta’s as a comfortable silence falls between you.

******************************

Tags:

@inumorph

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

lip sync your way into my heart

( @thecomfortofoldstorries and I got into a fun head-cannon debate last night about Tik Tok POVs and this is what happened)

--- Jaskier has never really been in the loop when it comes to social media. He was behind the curve when he made his Tumblr and he was two years late to sign up for Twitter. It’s no surprise that he finally downloads Tik Tok and makes an account several months after it’s become a viral platform.

That also means all the good usernames are taken; Jaskier types in @buttercup-bard, sees that it’s available, and calls it a day. This isn’t an app he’s going to care about. It’s just to waste time during his forty minute commute to and from campus. 

Alas, he has ADHD...and this shit is addictive.

Especially, he hates to admit, the thirst-trap hotties who do weird, obscure, edgy POV videos. Jaskier knows they’re aimed primarily towards teen and young adult women but he’s a red-blooded Redanian gay. He’s horny. He can watch a few POV Tik Toks on the bus and thirst after pretty boys with big muscles...as a treat.

By Jaskier’s second week of classes he’s found a definite favorite Tik-Tokker (is that what they’re called? Or is it influencer? Jaskier doesn’t care). The guy is gorgeous. He has beautiful honey-gold eyes and long, silvery-white hair; which is appropriate since his handle is @whitehairdontcare. He makes a wide range of content, too. Perfect for Jaskier’s Concerta-focused tastes. There are some dances here and there and some Q&A videos, but for the most part he does POVs. 

Jask and his roommates, Essi and Priscilla, have spent many happy hours poring over Mr. White Hair’s account, watching and re-watching their favorites from his vast repertoire of content. Essi loves his weird, edgy-boi shit. Stuff with titles like “POV: I fight the bully who insulted your haircut” or “POV: you make a deal with the devil for true love”. Stuff that Jaskier would have been into when he still listened to My Chemical Romance on the regular (okay, he still does, but don’t tell Essie). 

Priscilla is a huge fan of Tik Tok dances. She follows every challenge and ranks her favorites, compiling them into a YouTube series that’s more for her self-gratification than anything else. Mr. White Hair is generally towards the top of her list whenever he deigns to follow a trend that doesn’t involve badly applied makeup blood smears. The guy clearly works out and the definition of his body (and the movements of said really hot body) make the dances look so much more fluid and fun. Jaskier and Priscilla clearly share a brain-cell when it comes to appreciating Mr. White Hair’s hotness.

Jaskier’s favorites, of course, are the cute little POVs that lie scattered between all the edgy ones. Stuff made for the softies of Tik Tok. Stuff made for boys like Jaskier. “POV: I fix your car for you” is the one he’s probably re-watched the most. Mr. White Hair is lying on his back beneath a jacked-up blue car, oil smeared in a few strategic places on his face, chest, and arms. At the very end of the Tik Tok he moves the wrench out of the way of his face completely and winks directly into the camera.

Jaskier hates to admit it, even to himself, but no matter how many times he’s watched that stupid twenty-give second video, that wink drops his heart straight down into his shoes and fills his stomach with butterflies.

---

“Hey do you guys carry fake blood here?” an almost terrifyingly deep voice asks from behind him. Jaskier twirls around on his heel, Retail Smile firmly in place, and loses his shit the moment he sets eyes on his latest customer.

It’s Mr. White Hair.

Here. In the middle of the aisle of the Party City where Jaskier works every weekend. He’s either going to throw up or pass out or both. 

He doesn’t though. Instead, the Demon Lord of Retail possesses his body momentarily and nods, “Right over this way!” He leads the insanely attractive influencer over to the year-round section of Halloween FX makeup and gestures towards the shelf filled with various fake blood capsules, bottles, and packets. 

“Thanks,” Mr. White hair smiles. Jaskier nods again, silent, and drifts back towards the counter in a daze. He’s the only one on shift right now (it is not a very busy Party City) and he knows that he can’t pass out on the dirty tile floor or he’ll get fired (and perhaps tetanus). He just needs to power through the next few minutes and then he can crouch next to the helium tank and freak the fuck out.

But not until Mr. White Hair is gone.

Just as Jaskier is re-learning how to breathe normally, the sexy internet star makes his way towards the counter with an armful of products and the retail worker loses it again. Thank god for the ability to compartmentalize.

“So, just these for you?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem! I love your Tik Toks by the way,” Jaskier replies automatically. His eyes widen slightly. Why the fuck did I mention his Tik Toks!?

“Thanks,” the guy says and blushes. “I didn’t know they’d gotten so popular.”

“You have like two million followers?” Jaskier laughs. “I think that makes you pretty popular. Maybe even famous.”

“Oh yeah...right.” 

“Anyway, your total is going to be twenty-one fifty.”

Mr. White Hair pays and Jaskier bags all his fake blood, wondering the whole time exactly what kind of content he can look forward to seeing. More of Essi’s edgy shit, apparently. As he’s handing the plastic bag over the counter, Jaskier smiles and works up the courage to ask, “Is your hair naturally white? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just really pretty.”

Geralt’s face goes slightly pinker than before and he nods. “Yeah. Weird genetic thing. Thanks.”

“No problem. Right on,” Jaskier beams. “Well, it was nice meeting a famous person. Thanks for stopping in.”

“Thanks for helping me out,” the Tik Tokker replies. Jaskier watches him exit the store before ripping his phone from his pocket and dialing Essi. He needs to talk to her before he spirals into a giddy panic attack.

---

“Hey Jask have you seen that hot guy’s latest Tik Tok?” Priscilla asks, lounging across her futon like a queen. Jaskier looks up from his copy of The Collective History of Aedirnian Funeral Dirges and wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion.

“No, why?”

“You should go check your phone. I think you’ll be happily surprised.”

“Oh-kay,” Jaskier says, drawing out the ‘kay’ for as long as it takes him to get up from his seat on the floor and exit the room. He retrieves his phone from the charger in the kitchen and returns to Priscilla’s bedside. He opens his new favorite app and pulls up @whitehairdontcare’s page. There’s a new POV from earlier this morning and Jaskier taps on it. 

His eyes go round when he reads the caption: “POV: You’re the cute cashier at the Party City and I’m bad at flirting”. 

Mr. White Hair is staring into the camera with those beautifully golden eyes, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand while he lip syncs to whatever song is playing. He’s wearing a tight, navy blue v-neck and Jaskier can see the movement of every one of his ridiculously defined muscles as they flex. The silver wolf’s-head necklace Mr. White Hair always wears around his neck is in its usual place, dangling down between those perfect collarbones…

Jaskier takes a shaky breath and glances up at his friends, who are staring back at him with wide eyes. “It could be about anyone.”

“How many Party Cities do you think he went to yesterday?”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up,” Jaskier snorts. “He’s a social media influencer and I am one semester away from finishing my degree and my thesis. Why would he ever want to be with someone like me?”

Essi rolls her eyes and Jaskier goes back to his homework. 

---

Later that night, alone in his room, Jaskier plugs his earbuds into his phone and watches the Tik Tok over and over. He finds the song Geralt used and adds it to his Work Is Tough playlist, which he’s allowed to play over the loudspeakers at the store so long as he’s working a solo shift. 

He watches Mr. White Hair’s plush pink lips move around the words and dreams of kissing them someday, as far-fetched as that scenario is (because this video is definitely not for him, that’s impossible):

“My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.

So won't you kill me, so I die happy.

My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury,

or wear as jewelry; whichever you prefer.”

Fucking Dashboard Confessional. Of course. One of Jaskier’s favorite bands from his emo days in middle school. If this really was for Jaskier, if this really was a legitimate attempt at online flirtation by Mr. White Hair himself, it was working.

 Jaskier buries his head in his pillow and sighs. 

[jeonsjiddies]

and then came you | pjm (m)

summary - Jimin was having a harder time getting over his unrequited love than he’d like to admit. He was desperate to escape the longing in his chest; he was searching for something to make him feel alive again. Jimin was about to give up hope that he’d ever find anything meaningful to cling to again, and then came you. 

rating- explicit 18+

word count-  7551

pairing- jimin x reader

genre- fluff, smut, angst

Warnings - a little angsty/ a little heartbreak at the beginning, some sexual harassment ( from an ex), mentions of cheating, thigh riding, ice play, creampie, multiple orgasms, slight dom!jimin, Oral (female receiving)

a/n - while this story can stand alone, it is based off the 8 letters AU, which can be found here. :) as usual, all the thanks in the world to @sweetnspicy93​ for all your help and thank you for urging me to give 8 letters Jimin his own happy ending. 

Jimin knew it was a bad idea, but he’d done it anyway. He would’ve done anything for the girl with the soft eyes and the bright smile, the girl who was now Namjoon’s. Jimin thought his crush was small enough that he’d be able to assist in making Namjoon jealous and walk away unscathed. At least she would be happy. That would be enough for Jimin. Or so he thought. 

Jimin’s mind wandered back to the way she looked on top of him, grinding her hips into his. His cock stirred at the memory. Of course, it had all been a show, strategically designed to make her roommate and crush jealous. That didn’t stop Jimin’s heart from slipping a beat when her core ground down onto his member. It didn’t stop Jimin from melting when she’d giggled and covered her face to hide it. Jimin knew it wasn’t real, he’d laughed off his boner, but he let himself enjoy the feeling of her skin under his tongue, the soft noises he drew from her which he knew weren’t completely fake. 

He felt empty, lost. Maybe he was being dramatic, but Jimin felt like he needed purpose. He’d feigned happiness when he saw her tucked into Namjoon’s loving embrace, congratulating the new couple as pieces of his heart chipped away and fell into the black hole of his chest. It seemed like his desire to do anything had faded away as quickly as his grasp on her. Now, he moped about his apartment, listening to the dull roar of the rain outside. It had been weeks since Namjoon had finally cracked and claimed her as his own, and Jimin was tired of feeling so… tired, dejected, lonely. 

Jimin decided he needed a change of scenery. The messy apartment with the dingy walls he had been cooped up in for weeks wasn’t doing anything to help him, he needed a fresh start. He didn’t give himself time to think about it, only packed a bag and scurried out the door, through the pouring rain to his car. He didn’t have a real plan, just decided to hit the open road and let his gut guide him until he found a place to explore. He drove through the rain, letting his excitement seep through his bones as he made random turns and took unplanned exits to get to his unknown adventure. 

Jimin drove for a few hours, deciding no matter where he went he wasn’t going to escape the dastardly rain. He took the next exit he saw, something in his chest guiding  him towards the small town it led to. Near the exit he saw a sign illuminated promising a hotel room for only $35 a night. Jimin, having nothing to lose, pulled into the parking lot. Entering the building and shaking the rain from his dripping hair, he looked around to find the front lobby devoid of any life. 

“Hello?” He called out. 

You didn’t hear him enter the building and couldn't see anything past the stack of boxes you were balancing. He didn’t see you coming around the corner. You tripped over a flipped up rug and went tumbling forward, boxes flying out of your hands and landing haphazardly on the tile floor, contents spilling out and rolling in different directions. You would’ve splattered on the floor much like the contents of the boxes had it not been for the beautiful stranger who currently cradled you in his strong arms. Your palms were pressed flat against his chest, and you could feel the toned muscle under your fingertips. Your gaze traveled up his neck and face until your eyes locked with the deep brown pools of his.  Though they were a dark color, they shone with the intensity of the sun, bright and vivid, so beautiful it almost hurt to look at. Your mouth hung open in shock for a moment at how gorgeous this man was before you came to your senses, stumbling back and out of his grip. 

“I am so so sorry! Are you alright?” You questioned, skimming over his body for any obvious signs of injury. You sighed in relief when you found none.

“I’m fine. Are you okay?” He wondered, eyes searching yours. 

“Yes, thanks to you. Thank you. For catching me.” You giggled nervously. 

“It’s not every day a beautiful girl throws herself into my arms. Couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” He winked playfully.

You blushed and looked down to hide it and squeaked in surprise, scrambling to collect the contents of the boxes. Jimin leaned down to help you, collecting items and tucking them safely in the box before lifting it and following you to the counter where the both of you set them down. 

“Thank you, again.” you smiled, taking your place behind the desk. “Were you looking for a room?”

“Yes, please.” he grinned back at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 

Your eyes lingered on the action a little longer than was socially acceptable before you shook yourself back to reality and searched the old, worn down computer system for available rooms.

“Okay, I’ve got a double queen and a single king available. Which would you prefer? They’re both non-smoking rooms.” you smiled politely.

“The single king, it’s only me.” Jimin sighed, his sunshine filled eyes dimming a bit.

“Okay!” you tried not to show your concern, but selected the room and input your employee discount.

“How many nights?” you asked, glancing back up at him.

“Ummm…” he trailed off, looking away as he thought carefully. “Let’s go with seven. For now.” 

“Okay, a one week stay…” your fingers tapped at the keys, and you rung up his total. 

“Okay that will be $187.25. Cash or card?” you smiled sweetly. 

“That doesn’t sound right… it’s for 7 nights right? $35 a night?” he confirmed. 

“I, um, put my employee discount in for you…” you admitted shyly, avoiding his gaze. “It made it $25 a night, plus tax. We’re allowed to give the employee price to friends and family and I was thankful for your help.”

Jimin watched you for a moment, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he appraised you.

“Thank you. That’s… really sweet. Probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” his voice lowered at the end, as if that part was a secret.

“Well, you helped me. I helped you.” you shrugged, trying to play it off and hoping he wouldn’t notice the blaze in your cheeks.

Your hands brushed when he handed over his card and you audibly gasped at the shockwave that shot through you when his skin met yours. His mouth parted in shock as well and you both locked eyes for a moment. One heartbeat passed. Two. The only sound in the lobby was both of you sucking in shaky breaths. 

You gulped, pulling your hand away and swiping his card through the reader. You handed it and a receipt back to him, careful not to touch him again and smiled the most professional smile you could muster. You reached behind you and pulled the corresponding keycard out of its slot and handed it over as well.

“Room 318. If you need anything, you can call me. The front desk number is 0. I’ll be here until 7am, but if you find that Mina is a little too… blunt?..for your taste, I’m actually right down the hall in 338.” you explained.

You weren’t sure why you told him that, you never offered that information to any other customers. Something about him just pulled you in. You wanted to protect him. You wanted to know what was going on in his mind, what could possibly be dimming those glittering eyes. You were enamoured by him, intrigued, fascinated really. 

“Thank you for the heads up…” he trailed off, eyes scanning your shirt for a name badge.

“Y/N. And you?” you offered.

“Jimin.” he beamed at you, causing your heart to skip a beat for probably the 92nd time since you’d laid eyes on him.

“It’s very nice to meet you Jimin. I hope you enjoy your stay.” you told him sincerely.

“I think I will.” he winked, making his way down the hallway towards his room.

*** Jimin couldn’t sleep. He was used to tossing and turning and lying awake until the sun came up, he was no stranger to the way his mind whirled when the silence crept in. He kept himself busy during the day, but when the sun went down, the restlessness set in. Jimin hated the silence. He hated being alone. He glanced at the clock, it was midnight. He sighed and shoved himself out of bed, slipping on his shoes and making his way down to the coffee bar he’d spotted earlier. 

He filled two cups, fixing one the way he liked it and leaving the other black, but grabbing a couple of cream and sugar packets to bring with him. He peered around the corner to see if you were busy before he entered the lobby. You were sat on a stool behind the desk, head leaning on your hand as you struggled to stay awake. Jimin smiled, turning the corner and setting the coffee in front of you.

“Looks like you might need this more than I do.” he grinned, taking a sip of his own. “I wasn’t sure how you liked it so I just brought the extras to you.”

“Oh my gosh. My hero.” you cooed, ripping open the sugar and creamers and dumping them in before taking a sip.

Your head lolled back blissfully and you moaned quietly. Jimin’s eyes widened at the unexpected lewd sound rolling off your pink lips and had to discreetly adjust himself before you noticed the way his sweats got a little tighter. 

“You saved my life. How can I ever repay you?” you giggled. 

“Keep me company? I can’t sleep.” he whined.  

“I’m not going anywhere until 7. You’re welcome to hang out with me here.” you offered.

Jimin hopped up on the desk, swinging his legs back and forth as he peered down at you. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Where are you from?” you asked him.

“Just a few hours south of here.” he answered. “I couldn’t get far in the rain.”

“Oh, you aren’t to your destination yet? Why did you book seven days then?” you wondered aloud.

“I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I just wanted to leave for a while. I had nothing holding me there anymore, and I thought a change of scenery would be nice. So I just kinda went where I felt like going and ended up here.” he shrugged.

“Your grand adventure led you to our little town?” you laughed.

“It’s got it’s charms.” he smirked.

You bit your lip and looked down, willing the blush on your cheeks to chill out. Jimin chuckled, the vibrations of his body shaking your desk.

“So what do you plan on doing now that you’re here?” you asked.

“I don’t really have a plan. I just felt kind of suffocated and needed to get out of my dingy apartment and that stupid town.” he left off the part about how SHE was everywhere he went when he did venture outside his apartment, and how every time he saw her hand laced with Namjoons bile rose in his throat.

“Well, on behalf of our tiny town, welcome. I hope you find what you’re searching for.” you smiled.

Jimin stayed perched on your desk for hours, until the sun started streaming through the blinds in the lobby, filling the room with a soft glow. In your opinion, though, the light wafting through the space couldn’t dare compare to the light that came from Jimin. When his head was thrown back and his body shook and his smile reached from ear to ear while giggles and chuckles fell from his pillowy lips, Jimin shone brighter than the sun could ever hope to. 

You both got more comfortable as the night went on, delving into deeper topics, more personal ones. You told each other stories, shared your hopes for the future, It honestly felt like you’d known him your whole life. The conversation flowed easily, there weren’t any awkward pauses or times when neither of you could fill the silence, unsure of what to say. It was easy with Jimin. Being around him made you feel lighter, less broken. Like the light inside of him was seeping out and filling you with hope too. 

You could tell there was something on his mind, something plaguing him. Who else stays up talking to a hotel clerk until the wee hours of the morning? He was running from something when he left without a plan, but he didn’t offer much information on it. Despite the darkness that sometimes threatened to break through his cheery exterior, Jimin was just… bright. It was who he was, a part of him. He was warm, friendly, and welcoming. 

Neither of you had realized the time until the front door of the lobby swung open and Mina shuffled through, her ever-present scowl plastered on her weathered face. She glared at Jimin the moment she saw him. His eyes widened in fear and he slipped his bottom off of the desk, backing away from it. You sent him a look that said ‘I told you so.’

“Shifts over. Go.” she grunted, pointing her disappointed gaze at you.

You nodded quietly, gathering your purse and walking over to Jimin, who was almost cowering in the corner. You nodded for him to follow you out of the lobby and only spoke once you were out of earshot.

“See what I mean?” you giggled.

“She’s terrifying.” he whisper-hissed.

“She’s old and everything hurts. I’d probably be mean if I had to work here at her age too.” you shrugged, “but yeah if you need anything come find me. She definitely didn’t like the way you were sitting on the desk.”

Jimin nodded, covering his mouth as he stifled a yawn. You laughed.

“Did I wear you out talking your ear off?” you teased.

“No, that was the most fun I’ve had in a while to be honest.” he chuckled. 

“Happy to help.” you smiled shyly, pausing in front of his room with him. 

He hovered by the door but made no move to go in. You didn’t make a move to leave either. You both laughed at how ridiculous you were being. You placed your hand on his arm.

“Goodnight Jimin, sleep well.” 

Suddenly, Jimin pulled you towards him, his arms wrapping tightly around your frame, head resting in the crook of your neck. You melted into his embrace, allowing your arms to circle around his body as well. 

“Thank you for keeping me company.” he quietly spoke, warm breath hitting your ear and making you shiver.

“Any time, Jimin.” you answered back just as quietly. 

He pulled back and sent you a smile before he slipped inside his room. You slowly made your way back to yours, every inch of your skin tingling, relishing the way it felt to be held by him, even for just a moment. In the  arms of his stranger was the first time you’d ever felt like you were home. 

You and Jimin had developed a nightly routine. Each night, he’d show up around midnight and perch himself on your desk, gifting you a cup of coffee (which he tailored to your tastes now.) The two of you would talk and laugh and just enjoy each other’s presence throughout the night. Maybe you should’ve gotten bored spending so much time together but you never ran out of things to talk about. 

It felt like he’d always been there and he always would be. Even Mina seemed to get used to seeing Jimin when she arrived. She wasn’t friendly but she’d stopped sending him evil looks, which was quite the compliment from her. You found yourself looking forward to work rather than dreading it.  Your favorite part of each day was the time you got to spend with Jimin. On the 4th night of this routine, Jimin wrapped you up in your nightly hug. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wait all night for this part, longing to be wrapped up in his embrace, however fleeting the moment may be. 

That night, Jimin surprised you. When he pulled away from your hug you felt his pillowy soft lips rest upon your cheek in a chaste kiss. The moment was over before you had time to process what was happening and Jimin smiled innocently at you.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.” 

You stood frozen in place, letting your hand come up to touch your cheek where his lips had just been. His lips were so soft, so plush, and you longed to feel them against your own. Your cheek burned in the best way where the lingering heat from his lips stayed. You couldn’t stop the goofy smile from spreading across your face. 

That was until you rounded the corner to get to your room and walked face first into the chest of the man you despised more than anything else. Your ex boyfriend, Stuart, loomed over your like a predator stalking it’s prey, using his large body mass to trap you against the wall. He reeked of alcohol and you rolled your eyes at the familiar scent. 

“What are you doing here? Get off of me.” You hissed. 

“Awww don’t sound so disappointed, Y/N. Don’t you miss me?” He cooed, one finger sliding it’s way up the side of your face. 

“No.” You spit. “Get the fuck off of me.”

“Come on baby… don’t you want to have a little fun?” He smirked and your stomach threatened to release your midnight snack all over his button up shirt. 

“Let me get one thing through your thick ass skull, I will NEVER touch you again. Do you understand?” You hissed through gritted teeth 

“Don’t be like this. Just unlock the door. We can go in your room and play around like we used to. You used to like it when I showed up like this.”

“That was before I found out you were fucking half the town behind my back.” You threw back at him. “If you think I’ll ever get with you again you’re insane.” 

“Quit playing hard to get and open the fucking door.” He growled. 

“I believe she said no.” 

Your gaze snapped to the voice that had just spoken, your eyes landing on Jimin, who was carrying his ice bucket. His eyes were swimming with concern for you but he stood tall and held his ground, refusing to be intimidated by the giant drunk moron who had you pinned to the wall.

“This isn’t any of your business. Fuck off.” Stuart hissed. 

“Actually it kind of is. You’re sexually harassing my friend.” Jimin spoke evenly, keeping a calm persona. 

“You know this clown?” Stuart asked you. 

“Yeah. He’s my friend.” You shrugged.

“You little slut, you’re letting him hit it aren’t you? Bitching at me for having a little fun but you’ll bust it open for anyone huh?” Stuart goaded you.

“Well Stuart, I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” You growled.

“If you’ll put out for him you better put out for me.” He hissed. 

Jimin’s fist connected with Stuart’s jaw before you could reply or react. Stuart stumbled back in surprise and Jimin took the opportunity to grab your hand and sprint down the hallway with you in tow. A roar of rage sounded from behind the two of you which only fueled your legs to move faster. Nearing a T in the hallway, you made a split second decision to shove Jimin into the supply closet and shut the door.

Stuart wasn’t smart enough, especially while drunk, to think of that as an option and you strained your ears to listen as his footsteps clomped past the storage closet, pausing before retreating down the hallway. You let out a sigh of relief, looking up to meet Jimin’s gaze. It was then that you realized how close you were. Your noses almost touching, you could feel his ragged breaths against your skin. You told yourself it was from the running.

“Are you okay?” He whispered. 

“Yes, thanks to you. You keep rescuing me.” You grinned. 

“Well, call me Prince Charming then.” He laughed quietly. “Do you think he’s gone?” 

“I’m not sure. We should probably wait it out.” You sighed.

“Why don’t you call the police?” Jimin wondered.

“His dads the sheriff. He won’t do anything.” You huffed.

Jimin shifted, trying to maneuver around you to set down the ice bucket he was holding. He opted to place it on the floor, bending down to set it beside the two of you. He misjudged the space between your bodies as he stood up, stumbling forward a little, his face ended up in your cleavage, his lips brushing against your cloth covered nipple. He froze in shock, unable to peel himself from your breast. His breath circled your nub, damp and warm. You let out a breathy moan at the feeling and your eyes immediately widened in panic. 

Jimin straightened his posture, eyes locked on yours and lips parted in amazement. Neither of you spoke or dared to move. You could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, brushing against your own each time in the cramped space. Jimin could feel his cock stirring to attention in his sweats and decided it was time to check if the coast was clear. He cleared his throat and opened the closet door, slipping his head out and checking both directions.

“I don’t see him anymore.” Jimin told you quietly.

You nodded and followed him towards your room. You paused in front of his, shaking with anxiety when he looked at you in confusion. 

“Jimin… I’m scared. Can I… can I stay with you? I’m worried he’s going to come back and I-“ you rambled bit Jimin put you out of your misery. 

“Of course, come on.” He unlocked the door and ushered you inside. 

You followed him inside, thanking him quietly and following him like a lost puppy to the middle of the room.

“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want me to turn on a movie?” He asked. “Are you hungry or thirsty?”

“I’m okay, but I won’t turn down the movie.” You smiled gratefully. 

Jimin flipped on the tv and sat at the opposite side of the bed, careful to give you room and made sure he was under the covers so you couldn’t see his semi. You got under the blankets too, but still shivered in the cold of his room. 

“Are you still cold? I don’t think I have a clean sweater…” he thought out loud, wracking his brain for ideas. 

“It’s fine! I’ll warm up soon.” You assured him. 

Things shifted back to normal for the most part, but there was a lingering tension in the air neither of you were willing to talk about. You fell into easy conversation about the movie, giggling and poking fun at the plot holes together. You continued to shiver despite your best efforts not to show how cold you were. Jimin sighed. 

“Come here.” He instructed. 

“Hmm?” You questioned. 

“Come over here and let me warm you up, you’re making me feel bad.” Jimin motioned for you to join him on his side of the bed. 

“Really I’m fine-“ you began but the look on Jimin’s face had you obeying his command in an instant, crawling your way over to him and snuggling up beside him as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled the blanket up to cover you both, trapping the heat of both of your bodies. 

The hotel mattress was lumpy and uneven, but you’d never been more comfortable in your life. Jimin’s arm wrapped around your shoulder so it wasn’t sandwiched between the two of you and you molded yourself against his side even closer. Your bodies fit perfectly together and it made your heart beat faster than normal. You only hoped Jimin couldn’t hear it. When the movie ended, Jimin switched off the tv and laid down. You followed suit, pressing your body up against his and resting your head on his shoulder, your hand on his chest.

“Tell me something I don’t already know about you.” you requested, voice soft in an attempt not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

“What haven’t I told you yet?” Jimin chuckles to himself. 

“What’s the real reason you’re here?” you pondered, bracing yourself for him to close himself off.

Jimin sighed, and you were about to apologize and change the subject when he nodded, glancing over at you.

“Actually, I was kind of running away. I had this friend, and I liked her but she liked her roommate. He likes her too but wasn’t doing anything about it, so we fake dated to make him jealous. I know it’s immature but he needed a push. I wanted her to be happy but didn’t realize how I’d feel seeing them together all the time. It’s actually kind of nice, I haven’t thought about her in days.” Jimin explained.

“I’m sorry Jimin. You’re a wonderful guy and you deserve someone who appreciates you.” You told him, eyes searching his face. 

“Thank you.” He scrunched his nose up in that cute way that made your heart clench. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

You wracked your brain for information you hadn’t already provided to Jimin during your nightly talks. You noticed then that Jimin was shifting beside you, growing antsy with the vulnerability of the conversation, you assumed. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you threw out the first thing you could think of.

“Hmmm… I can touch my nose with my tongue.” you lied with the best straight face you could muster.

“No way. Show me.” Jimin laughed, turning to watch you.

You stuck your tongue out and tried your hardest to push it far enough to touch the tip of your nose, but failed miserably. You refused to give up and kept trying, making silly faces while attempting to reach. Jimin couldn’t control the laughter bubbling from deep in his belly at your ridiculous antics. 

His smile reached both ears, and Jimin watched you make a fool of yourself, realizing that he hadn’t felt so light and carefree in the longest time, even before the incident with Namjoon and his new girlfriend. Something about being near you just made Jimin turn into a version of himself that he actually liked. Being around you made him feel like it might actually be okay. 

The two of you shared hushed whispers for a while, Jimin absentmindedly drawing shapes on the soft flesh of your hand that rest on his chest. The whispers died down and you were left with the quiet humming of the air conditioning kicking on and off periodically and the sound of Jimin’s even breathing. You lifted your head to see if he was asleep and watched his chest move with each inhale. You allowed yourself to study his features up close. You couldn’t help yourself, reaching out and letting your fingers brush against the skin of his jaw, a featherlight touch in the hopes of not waking him. 

Jimin stirred slightly and you held your breath, ceasing all body movements. You watched his eyes flutter before stilling. He snuggled farther into the blanket and sighed happily. You waited a few moments before returning to your exploration. Your fingers danced lightly towards his lips, letting yourself marvel at how full and soft they were. Your thumb brushed against the tender flesh, and Jimin’s tongue darted out to wet them. You removed your fingers from his warm, now wet mouth. 

His eyelashes fanned across his cheeks delicately, and you gently ran a finger along them, watching them flutter under your touch. You sighed, completely in awe of how beautiful the man next to you truly was. He was painfully attractive, that was a given. But he was also smart, funny, kind, open. You found yourself idly wondering how anyone could pass him up, but you were honestly not upset that she had. It was a stupid daydream, you knew that. There was no way he was into you. But you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what it might be like to show Jimin the kind of love he’d been missing, the kind he was so clearly desperate to find. 

If anyone deserved to feel raw, unconditional love, you had no doubt that Jimin did. He was so sweet and friendly and had so much love to give in return. You wanted to watch those eyes light up, see how brightly he could shine when properly adored. You wanted to be that for him. He shuffled in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath and his arms reached out, seeking your warmth. He brought you flush against him, enveloping you in his warm embrace. You smiled to yourself and carded your fingers through his silky hair. 

You let yourself melt into his hold, feeling welcome and needed and wanted. You began fading in and out of consciousness, the comfort and safety of having Jimin so close putting your mind at ease. You fell asleep to the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat, which sounded a lot like your new favorite song.

You woke up before Jimin, the sunlight finding its way through the thin curtain that covered the large window of his hotel room. You blinked a few times and tried to sit up, but Jimin’s arms instinctively wrapped around you tighter, holding you in place against his firm body. You grinned, snuggling back into his embrace and pressing yourself up against him. That’s when you felt something hard pressing against your backside. You experimentally wiggled your hips against Jimin’s, wondering if it was what you thought it was. His sleepy moan and the friction against your bottom proved your suspicions correct. 

Your eyes widened and you bit your lip as arousal pooled in between your legs. Jimin’s rock hard cock pressed against your backside made your head spin. You attempted to remove yourself from his grasp but that only made him hug you closer, effectively pressing his erection against you more. You whimpered quietly, torn between not disturbing Jimin and relieving the ache between your thighs. You pushed your bottom farther into him, hoping to gain a little friction. Suddenly, his hand gripped down on your hip, stilling your movements. 

“What are you doing?” He questioned, his morning voice raspy and deep. 

“I...uh….” you gulped, heat flooding to your cheeks at having been caught grinding against him.

You tried to flee, but Jimin’s firm grip on your hip didn’t lessen, his fingers dug into your skin deliciously. 

“It looks like you were grinding your pretty little ass on my cock.” He purred, his hand sliding from your hip to grasp the fleshy globe of your bottom, giving it a rough squeeze. 

“Ah, fuck.” You squeaked out at his possessive actions, you leaned into his touch and brought a chuckle from him. 

“Hmmmm… you like that?” He chuckled, “you like when I touch you?”

“Yes.” You gasped as his hands traveled farther up to cup your breast, giving it a light squeeze. 

“So needy. Why don’t you do something about it?” He prodded. 

Your brain was fuzzy, you weren’t even registering his words. You didn’t think about what you were doing, you just let your body take control as you turned around then swung a leg over his lap and straddled him. Jimin’s words died in his throat and his mouth hung open in shock. You didn’t let yourself think or slow down, knowing you’d chicken out if you did. You pressed your lips to his in a needy kiss, which he reciprocated after he processed that it was happening. 

His hands found purchase in your hair, tugging gently as his tongue explored your mouth. You moaned into his mouth when his free hand pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers. You began to grind your hips down onto his, delighting in the way his cock felt dragging up and down your clothed folds. Jimin groaned, letting his head fall back and hit the headboard with a quiet thud before he lifted it and grabbed your hips, holding them still.

“Wait, wait.” he panted.

“What’s wrong?” your hips stilled, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

“It’s uh, been a while, and if you do that I’m going to cum in my pants.” he admitted sheepishly. 

You bit your lip to hide your giggle when an idea flashed in your mind. You moved your hips so you were straddling his thigh rather than his crotch. You began to rock your hips again and Jimin’s eyes darkened as he stared at the spot where your sex met his thigh. 

“Holy shit, you look so sexy right now…” he hummed thoughtfully, his hands coming to rest on your hips again only to grind you down harder on his toned muscle.

The arousal pooling between your legs was soaking through your clothing, and you were certain Jimin would feel it soaking his flimsy sweats soon. You whimpered at the friction on your clit and when Jimin tensed his thigh it sent a wave of pleasure through you.

His fingers found the edge of your shirt and he glanced at your face to make sure it was okay. When you nodded, he lifted it off of your frame and tossed it aside. He licked his lips as he surveyed your skimpy bra. His lips attached themselves to the tops of your breast while his hands slipped behind you to unclasp the fabric preventing him from seeing all of your upper half. The bra fell off your shoulders and Jimin whisked it away, taking a moment to admire your breasts.

“I think I might have died if I didn’t get a chance to have a proper taste of these.” he hummed, eyes flicking up to yours as a smirk graced his lips.

“Fuck, Jimin.” You whimpered pathetically as electricity shot to your core. 

Almost immediately, his lips were on your nipples.His soft, plump lips sucked at your sensitive nub, his teeth gently scraping along the flesh. Your movements on his thigh stuttered, your mind going blank at the shivers coursing through you. His tongue darted out and swirled around your nipple, before he moved his delicious assault to the other breast. This time, he bit down, pulling the nub between his teeth. You yelped, arching your body closer to him as the sinfully pleasurable pain raced through your veins.

Jimin smirked against your skin, biting and soothing it with the flat of his tongue afterwards. He blew cold air against the red marks on your breasts, and you shivered. Your hips picked up speed the closer you got to letting go and Jimin sensed you were near your high. His fingers dipped past the waistband of your pants and panties, and he began rubbing your clit harshly, until you were just about to fly off the edge, then he ripped his hand away and held you still.

“What the fuck?!” you whined.

“You don’t cum until I say you do.” he growled, “you were a very bad girl, rubbing up against me and teasing me, using me for your own pleasure. So fucking sexy.” 

You whined, trying to rock your hips against him once more, but Jimin was stronger than you. He grabbed your waist and flipped you over so he was hovering above you. The tips of his fingers teasing at your waistband. Your breath caught in your throat, the palpable tension growing thicker with each passing moment. He quickly discarded his own shirt, giving you the most glorious view of his toned chest and stomach. 

You made no attempt to disguise the way you ogled him. You licked your lips seductively as your eyes raked over his body, drinking him in. You reached up to let your hands rake down his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his abs and brushing over his nipples on the way down. His body jerked and you smiled to yourself. Your perusal of his body came to rest at the elastic in his sweats.

“Someone’s eager.” Jimin quipped.

“Someone might not be so eager if she’d been allowed to cum.” you huffed, tugging the sweats and boxers down in one smooth  motion. 

Jimin laughed, standing up and kicking the clothing off of his body before crawling back onto the bed.

“Mouthy little slut. Don’t you know only good girls get to cum?” he shot back, pressing you flat against the mattress and kissing down your neck.

You squirmed under his touch while he worked his way down your body, stopping just above your aching sex. He placed a soft kiss to your clothed folds, making your body react and arch closer, seeking relief. He chuckled to himself and shed you of any remaining clothing. The contrast of the cool air meeting your aching heat caused a shiver to rip through your body. Something lit up in Jimin’s eyes and he removed himself from the bed and walked over to the mini fridge, opening the freezer compartment.  You watched curiously as he returned with the small ice bucket he’d filled before finding you last night.

“Feeling thirsty?” you joked. 

Jimin raised an eyebrow, shooting you a half-smile before taking an icecube and running it over your already hard nipple. You cried out, the stark contrast of his warm hands with the freezing cold of the icecube was divine. You watched as it slowly melted, water droplets rolling off your body and falling onto the bed.

“Jimin…” you whimpered.

“Mmm?” he smirked, repeating the action on the other breast.

Your back arched, seeking more from the man above you. He was playing you like an instrument, and he knew all the right notes. You were putty in his hands, and he knew it. It stroked his ego more than you would’ve cared for but at this point you would’ve done anything to get some attention on your sodden pussy.

Jimin popped an icecube in his mouth and moved up to kiss you. It rolled around between your tongues until it melted between your combined heat. Jimin kissed the tip of your nose before moving his face down between your legs. He pressed his tongue flat against your clit, and the coldness from the icecube that he’d just had in his mouth stunned you. He left your clit to tease along your folds, letting his tongue dart experimentally inside your heat. 

You groaned,writhing underneath his ministrations. He flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit quickly, building the heat in your belly as he moved. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them and hitting that delicious spot with every pump. He paused for a moment, and suddenly there was something very cold and very wet pressing against your walls. 

You gasped, the ice pressing against you as Jimin moved it in and out with his tongue. The melting liquid joined your slick and spilled out of your hole while Jimin flicked his tongue, and the remaining ice against that spot that drove you wild. Once the ice was gone, and you were panting enough for Jimin’s liking, he doubled down on his efforts, tongue pressing against your walls and fingers working beside it while his other hand worked your clit in small, deliberate circles.

Jimin pulled away abruptly, and you nearly began crying as another orgasm slipped away.You groaned in frustration, reaching down to play with your own clit but Jimin caught your wrists and clicked his tongue.

“Nuh uh, darling. What did I say? You don’t cum unless I tell you to.” he purred, licking a bold stripe along the veins in your wrist, which was strangely erotic.  “I want you to beg for it.” 

“What?” you hissed.

“Beg me to cum. Beg for my cock.” he smirked.

You sighed audibly, and Jimin just watched you, the smirk still pasted on his stupidly handsome face.

“Please…” you mumbled.

“I’m sorry, what was that darling?” Jimin chuckled. “I can’t hear you.”

“Please fuck me, Jimin. I need to cum. Please!” you whined, all of your pride flying out the window as your pussy clenched around nothing.

“That’s my good girl.” he cooed.

“Please hurry.” you whined.

“Shit. I don’t… I don’t have a condom.” Jimin realized out loud, shoulders slumping.

“I have an IUD and I’m clean.” you panted, fingers wrapping around his neck and bringing him to meet your lips. “Are you?”

“I’m clean,” he assured.

“Then fuck me.” you whispered, nibbling on his ear.

Jimin wasted no time obliging your request. He lined himself up with your entrance and slid in smoothly, aided by your dripping arousal, courtesy of your two denied orgasms and the skills of his tongue. Jimin bottomed out, both of you emitting a low groan. Jimin wasn’t super long, but his girth more than made up for it, as well as his ability to move his hips in the most delectable ways. He filled you up perfectly, hitting spots inside you that you were unaware even existed. 

“Jimin.” you moaned, clawing at his back as he thrust in and out of you at a painfully slow pace.

“Say it again.” he whispered, hips picking up speed.

“Jimin.” you repeated.

“Louder.” he growled, snapping his hips in and out of you with vigor.

“Fuck! Jimin!” you cried. 

Jimin pounded in and out of you, causing your body to bounce with each movement of his hips. He loved the way your breasts bounced and the way you bit down harshly on your lip, overwhelmed with pleasure. His head fell into your neck as he pistoned his hips against yours, one hand sneaking between your joined bodies to expertly rub at your clit. You could no longer form a coherent sentence,gibberish falling from your lips as the familiar fire built deep inside you. 

“Jimin.” you warned, your cunt clenching around him.

“Are you gonna cum for me? Cum all over my cock? Do it, baby. Cum for me.” he coaxed.

His teeth sinking into your neck was the last push you needed before you were careening off the edge. Your body trembled at the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced in your life. White dots clouded your vision and you screamed so loud your throat felt raw. Jimin came soon after you, working you both through your shared euphoria. His thrusts slowed and he stilled inside you, breathing as heavy as your own.

“Holy shit.” he groaned, and you could feel his muscles shaking just as much as your own.

He pulled out of you, watching in awe as his cum seeped out of your beaten hole. He slid a finger along your folds, gathering his seed and bringing it up to your lips. You obediently opened your mouth, wrapping your tongue around his fingers and sucking them clean, the taste of your own slick combined with his cum coating your tongue. Jimin shivered at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” he sighed breathlessly.

He stood up, walking into the bathroom to dampen a towel with warm water and bring it back to the bed, gently cleaning you up. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze. He made his way back into the bed, snuggling up next to you and pulling you into his arms. He watched your expressions and you watched him. You both giggled nervously.

“Do you maybe… want to go out sometime?” he asked, teeth raking over his bottom lip nervously.

“I’d like that.” you giggled, hiding your face in his chest.

You both lay there in comfortable silence, holding each other while your breathing returned to normal. You nodded off, spent from the activities of the morning, and it was Jimin’s turn to watch your peaceful face as you slept. His eyes trailed over your features, adoration and a tinge of something more filling him. True, Jimin had arrived in this small town running away from something. He was searching for something to make him feel anything but the jealousy and pain that had settled deep in his chest. Jimin felt like he was running toward something now, a possibility of the two of you. He knew he wasn’t “fixed”, but he felt good with you, whole with you. 

Jimin knew both of you had a lot of learning to do, and a long way to go and a long way to grow, but he couldn’t stop the excitement bubbling in his chest because for the first time in what seemed like forever, Jimin was happy. Truly, unabashedly happy. He’d started this journey of his running. He thought he’d never recover from the darkness that had taken him over. He thought he’d never find joy again. Jimin had gone desperately searching for something to give him hope.

And then came you.

[starman-john-tracy]

for @asteria-star for her birthdayyyyyyyyyyy <3 <3 <3

“Piss off Scott.” And he would, he really would under the force of that glare, only Star’s teeth are gritted hard enough that it looks like she might crack something, and she’s bent double with her fingers pressed hard against the gross, squelchy patch of red that’s spreading alarmingly quickly over the side of her t-shirt.

So instead of pissing off Scott approaches - looking like he’s trying to keep a snake from biting him; palms up and outward in a show of being unarmed, defenseless.

It doesn't work on her. She could throw Scott Tracy further than she trusts him.

“Keep away from me.” Star warns, low and dangerous, her expression cold. "I’m dealing with it, Tracy, it's none of your concern.” The last thing any of them expected from their trip to NYC was for Star to come back from a groceries errand with what looks like a horrible stab wound instead of the tea, Crocky Crunch cereal and fresh fruit she'd gone for.

She’s pretty sure that she hasn't been followed back here, though. She’d been careful - done several loops around the block, trying to blend into the shadows, to be certain that nothing could be traced back to the Tracy's - because while turning up at the hotel bruised, battered and bleeding wasn't exactly ideal, Star hadn’t really had much of a choice in the matter. She has nowhere else to go, after all. She’d hoped to sneak past both of the Tracy's rooms to her own without alerting them to the situation, but Scott, having chosen exactly the wrong moment to head for the bar downstairs, had scuppered that.

Stupid Scott, she thinks, scowling even as blood continues to seep steadily into the fibres of her shirt. Stupid Scott and his terrible timing.

John's been giving lectures here in NYC and Scott had kindly offered to be their pilot - as, outside of an emergency, neither spacefarer can be cleared to be in control of any vehicle, let alone a plane like the Tracy Two, for 48 hours after touchdown.

“But-” Scott opens his mouth to start to protest, but Star is already strategically shuffling away from him, toward the safety of her hotel room - paid for with Tracy money, she notes, as a sign of trust that she'll keep herself out of trouble or else the GDF will want her back in a cell. 

The only problem with that is that trouble tends to find her.

With blood-slippery fingers, Star swipes the room card shakily through the scanner on her door and shoves her way through it, kicking it shut behind her before Scott can catch up and get his foot in. There’s a hammering of fists on wood on the other side but Star resolutely ignores it, stumbling instead into the small, adjoining bathroom only for her knees to give out and she’s pitched, face first, onto the floor.

Star opens her eyes, hazy and unamused, to find her cheek pressed against cold tile, her fingers curled and bloodied in front of her face. Star bites back a groan, slapping both palms down and heaving herself to more of a sitting position; slouched and awful, before curling around the ragged, awful slash across her waist.

Oh fuck does it hurt.

She’s just peeling up the bloodied mess of her t-shirt when, of course, there’s a soft, quiet rap of knuckles against the bathroom door, and Star almost rolls her eyes because she knows exactly who Scott’s sicced on her.

“You can come in, John.” There’s an edge of what almost might be misery to her tone. This is what she gets for the GDF insisting that if she’s going to be on Earth, their hotel rooms have to be conjoined by the bathroom. So John can keep an eye on her, or the other way round, Star’s not sure at this point.

“What happened?” Tall, ginger and worried asks, ever so gently, already crouching at her side, and Star’s torn between the temptation to burst into tears, or to hit him for making her feel that way. There’s a chunky, green first aid kit in his hand (definitely IR standard, not the hotel’s), so he must have been warned. She watches him languidly, as he sets it down and clicks it open.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She insists, fully aware that it’s not going to be long before she does anyway. John just hums, non-committal and light, pulling a pair of blue plastic gloves on over his fingers with a snap, snap.

“Star.” John’s watching her, quiet and earnest. 

She does her best to crack a weak smile in his direction, but it must fall flat because he looks nothing but soft and serious in return. There’s a creeping fire spreading from her side and wrapping around her ribs, pooling in her lungs and she’s torn between reaching for him, clinging tight and crying and the way her skin itches with the ingrained need to run away.

She stays where she is, frozen and trembling on the cold tiles of a bathroom that's not her own. It’s probably lucky that tile is one of the easier things to clean blood up from.

She would know.

“Hey.” John’s crouching to match her hazy eyeline, fingers hovering close, but not touching. “Think it’d be ok for me to have a look?” He treats her as far more startled bunny in headlights than snake coiled to strike and Star wants to cry; ‘don't you know what I’m capable of! Don’t you know that I could hurt you! Put you and all of your precious brothers in danger just by being near you!’ But she doesn’t, because John’s smart. John already knows all that and he’s here for her anyway.

Her face is an uncomfortably ashy grey and John would rather deal with the horrific amount of blood smeared on her side and fingers and floor before they need to look into transfusion options.

She just nods, stiff and uncomfortable and in pain. Her teeth ache.

“Take your shirt off,” he instructs. If it was anyone else, she’d have made some kind of joke about them having to buy her a drink first, but this is John and he’s about as into that sort of thing as one of the plant’s he’s cultivating up in space would be, so she just sighs and lets him help her peel the sticky, clinging fabric from the wound and up over her head.

Her waist is a weeping wash of red and John pulls a face to show that he’s less than impressed. The long knife wound is clean across and doesn’t look too deep, but it’s raw and juicy with new blood and the skin around it already has a dark wash of purple bruising. John goes a little bit grey-pale at the sight of it - a fresh reminder that they’ve both been on the planet less than 24 hours.

“You ok?” She brings a wobbly hand up to catch on his elbow, just below where he’s rolled his sweater up to his elbows so that she doesn’t get bloody fingerprints on Grandma Tracy’s rough cableknit.

“I’m not the one with the nasty, jagged slice across my stomach.” John points out, dryly, and it’s not like she can deny that. He slides a steadying hand around her back and Star has to resist the urge to hold her breath as he inspects the injury.

She just wants to curl up in bed with a blanket over her head and not exist for a few hours. She wants to go home and that’s an odd feeling to clash with the presence of the careful ginger man who’s rapidly become the definition of the word.

“You didn’t get me strawberries then,” John comments, lightly, as he works. The spaceman’s sweet tooth is practically non-existent until it comes to fruit. She knows his weakness. “This might sting a bit.” He says, though both of them are well aware it’s an understatement.

“Next t-time.” There’s a bit of a wheeze as John swipes a sterile wipe over her stomach, busy cleaning up the wound. She’s got one hand clamped tightly onto his shoulder now, white-knuckled, not quite sure how it had ended up there when she’d been so careful about not getting his sweater bloodied. She hopes he’s not going to have bruises on that pale skin of his in the morning.

She closes her eyes and tips her head back, trying to get better control over her shaky breathing. 

“I’m going to start closing this.” He advises, carefully judging her grimace as he presses the wound closed with his fingers, squelchy and horrible, but ready for him to begin applying steri strips from the first aid kit. It’s a tricky job with her curled over like she is, and when every breath she takes pulls at the skin, so John places a firm but careful hand on her shoulder and pushes her back flat against the tile wall so that he can see what he’s doing.

To his credit, he is, at least, quick about it.

"If I suggest that you should probably get this checked by a hospital,” John adds, gently probing at his fix-up-job of the angry, swollen wound, before he puts a triage bandage over it. “are you gonna try to run for it?"

He'd rather have a second opinion on if this needs more than steri strips to hold it closed, and though he could holo-call Virgil, he'd rather not risk her wrath. She doesn’t dignify the idea with an answer though, instead, angling her cheek away from him and breathing hard through her nose to try and get a handle on the pain.

"I'll compromise," He says, with the tone of a man who knows he'll get what he wants either way, "take some morphine and a full spectrum antibiotic and… uh-ha-ha," he holds up a hand to keep her from interrupting him with protests, "There could have been anything on that, uh… knife?” It looks like a knife wound. “Take both of these and I'll not drag you to A&E by your floppy bangs."

Like he could. Star would almost be amused by the attempted bribery if not for the agony her side is in. Each breath tastes like fire now, and the round circles John presses into her palm are a couple of miniature blessings.

"And I don't have to explain myself to Scott." She's not going to anyway, but it feels like an important thing to add to the bargain before she knocks the drugs back.

"No ones gonna make you talk to Scott." John reaffirms, "but you know he's just worried. He's a big brother, it's what he does best. I imagine he'll have called Virgil to freak out about it though.”

Great. Another worrywart with questions. Just what she needs.

Virgil isn’t so bad though, there’s something calming about the family’s gentle giant, and she’s watched him patch John up more than enough times to trust he knows what he’s doing. Unlike Scott, Virgil’s knows when not to stick his nose into something.

“John…” There’s something else worrying her, nagging at her, something far worse than a stab wound because it could cost her her place aboard Thunderbird Five. “You’re not going to... report this to the GDF, uh, are you?” She’s not supposed to go off on her own, for one, and scrapping with some old familiar faces isn’t going to earn her any gold stars on the behave and we’ll let you stay with John chart.

It was a weird mix of punishment and witness protection and a favor from John’s Aunt Val that put her up there in the first place, and while at first, she’d have done almost anything to be anywhere but, Thunderbird Five… well, John’s grown on her.

“I think the bigger problem will be convincing Scott that it’s none of his business.” John points out lightly, “Dare I ask what happened?” Her face is losing color by the second. It seems important to keep her talking. Can’t be unconscious if you’re talking.

“People don’t like to go down without a fight.’ Star offers him the widest grin she can manage, revealing that one of her front teeth is a little chipped. “Gangs with long-standing grudges especially.”

John shakes his head, slow and disparaging.

“Right. Of course. Think you can stand?” When she nods slowly in confirmation, John gently leavers her upright, waiting patiently the few seconds it takes for her to blink the phosphenes from her vision as the blood drains away from her head. Both her hands find his shoulders again, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“It’s lucky it wasn’t too deep.” John sighs, probably more to himself than anyone. She tilts her head back down to find him looking at the covered patch on her side. “Those bruises do look bad though, it really would be better if someone could check you for internal injury.” He glances at her face from beneath a sweep of golden-ginger lashes, waiting for an answer. When she doesn’t offer him one, he sighs. “I could call Virgil and make him run a scan and-”

“Tomorrow, John.” Her head falls, heavy, onto his shoulder with a bit of a thunk. “I just wanna go to bed.” The last bit comes out as not much more than a whisper.

“Right then, come on.” John slides a supportive arm around her back, careful not to let his fingers brush skin. “Bed it is.”

Star swivels around so she can wrap her arms around his waist and press her face into his shoulder, trying to get as close to the warmth as possible. With John here, she doesn't really want to go back to where she's sleeping. Alone everything seems so… dangerous. The hotel filters in the sounds of the streets, people she doesn’t know in the corridors, threats from every angle. It creeps her out a little, and so she clings to John a little tighter. She starts mumbling again, trying to tell him she'll happily sleep on the floor if it means she doesn't have to be alone.

“Star…? Star.” He sighs, supporting more of her slight weight, shaking his head fondly. “Fine, ok, I’ll stay with you. You’re as bad as Alan, wanting to sleep on the floor. What am I going to do with you?” He laughs, and she feels it verberate through his chest. “Come on, you’re not alone.”

He pulls at her shoulder, half spinning her in an almost dance-like move as he lets her knees crumple and Star finds herself sitting on the plush hotel bed. Very gently, John tugs up the comforter and drapes it over her shoulders, like a blanket-cape.

He vanishes, briefly, to go find her a new, clean t-shirt and a pair of sleep sweats and looks entirely unsurprised when he comes back with one of his own, faded t-shirts in hand, pilfered by her long ago.

"I did wonder where this had gone." He points out, softly amused, as he helps manoeuvre it over her head. "You could at least leave me an IOU so I know what you've… borrowed." It's a kinder word than stolen but John's well aware of the chances of him getting things back once they've made their way into Star’s wardrobe.

Just as well his Father was a billionaire, really. John hardly minds a few things going missing here and there when they're going to a girl who has so very little in the way of her own possessions and no money to her name. He's caught her liberating his bank cards more than once, and it had only prompted a conversation about asking first before he sighs and hands the plastic over.

Privately, John thinks that had she not have wanted to be caught, she wouldn't have been. 

“Sleep.” He advises softly, well away of just how heavy her lids look as he helps her onto her back and makes sure the covers are tucked securely around her. “I’ll be right here, ok?” John waves a book at her, though she has no memory of him picking it up, and the last thing she sees before sleep takes her, is him smiling softly, reaching out to move a lock of stray hair from off her cheek. 

[royalstorm]

✨ chara. study #1 — keqing & her first kiss .

Keqing had her first and only kiss when she was fourteen.

Picture this: it was a Tuesday night. Her father was out, meeting with Snezhnayan financiers to take shots and talk business. Her mother was two rooms over, gossiping with the wife of another businessman hailing from another prestigious Liyuean family. Based on previous findings — all garnered by way of prompting and eavesdropping — this family was successful, second only to her own flesh and blood. It was likely that her parents wished to forge some sort of partnership with them, hence their rapidly increasing visitations. But for once in her life, Keqing couldn’t care less about that.

What she cared about was soft, sincere — blue-eyed and brown-skinned, ringlets of blonde hair enshrouding her like a waterfall ... or perhaps a halo. She couldn’t help but stare every time they were in each other’s company. It didn’t matter what they were doing, either. Whether it be folding clothes or spinning fabric or destemming flower bouquets, the focal point of Keqing’s attention remained there and true.

On that day, they were seated beside one another facing a too-big desk in Keqing’s too-big bedroom. Cradled in each of their arms was a book detailing Liyue’s social customs, namely the Flower Ball. Both sets of parents had suggested they study its contents together. “After all, it’s befitting for a proper woman to be versed in social etiquette,” Keqing’s mother had perked up, much to her chagrin. She would much rather be reading about Roald the Adventurer, or perhaps about the ruins scattered across their country ... something more becoming than the proper way to smile and wave before casting a glorified paper weight off a cliff.

So, naturally, Keqing had untrained her eyes from the book and, instead, kept them trained on the subject of her care. It was strangely calming to observe her leaf through page after page, forehead crinkling in concentration as she attempted to make sense of every word.

She pursed her lips. Keqing made note of how plump they were.

“Jia.” Despite the intensity of her stare, she addressed the other girl plainly. And although it took a moment, Jia eventually acknowledged her companion, closing her book and gingerly placing it on the desk. 

“Hey, thanks for that,” she chirped. Her plump lips fixed themselves into a smile. Something tightened in Keqing’s chest. It was the same way a clenched fist felt but somehow ... different. Somehow ... better. 

“Did you lose track of time again?” Keqing moved to discard of her own book. She then extended both of her arms upward in a lazy stretch. “You tend to do that ... not that there’s anything wrong with it. Diligence is a good trait to have.” 

Jia let out a laugh. “Okay, okay! If you say so!” She mimicked Keqing’s pose, allowing her legs to go slack, as well. “I liked what was in that book, though. I felt all grown-up reading about what it means to be a lady.” 

“Is that so?” Keqing lowered her arms, opting to fold them over her chest. “I guess I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention.” 

Another laugh. That tight sensation seized Keqing’s chest again. “Hehe! It’s okay. I can give you notes! That way, you don’t get in trouble with your parents.” 

At that point, Keqing swore her heart would explode. Aside from just looking nice, Jia also always did nice things for her: drawing her pictures, picking flowers for her, and of course, handwriting study notes for her. She couldn’t help but wonder what drove Jia to act in such a way and so constantly at that. Was this behavior reminiscent of something relayed to them in that book? Or perhaps the other books she refused to touch?

“No, it’s alright,” Keqing dismissed with a wave of her hand. “But thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Jia nodded, adjusting her posture so that her heels were planted on the seat of her chair, her lean brown arms hugging her legs to her chest. A few beats of silence swept over both girls. Truth be told, Keqing imagined that the other would revert to continue reading her book, seeing as she enjoyed it so much...

...Until —

“Keqing, how do you feel about love?”

Had she actually obeyed her parents and done her share of reading, the question wouldn’t have jostled her as much as it did, but alas ... there Keqing sat in stupefied ignorance, chills coursing down her spine and chest tormented with the prospect of a heart palpitation.

“Like —” Jia continued. Looks like Keqing had been unresponsive for too long. “ — What are your thoughts on kissing?” She rocked back and forth all the while, forearms flushing a pale red thanks to the friction of her movements. Keqing found herself wanting to run her fingers through those very spots — to gently quell the reddening flesh.

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought much of it,” she finally chose to answer, if to just distract her wayfaring mind. Violet eyes dropped to behold the suddenly interesting marble tile of her floor. She then pretended to be captivated by her own hands, twiddling her thumbs in vain. “How about you?”

Ever oblivious, Jia giggled. “I guess I’m the same way ... but you know what my mommy said? She said that you only kiss someone you really like ...” Keqing considered that, mid-thumb twiddle. “ ...And the book said that, too! When the bride and groom make their vows and swear to live happily ever after, they seal the deal by smooching!”

Keqing considered that, too, humming in thought. On the other hand, her parents had taught her that marriages were but a strategic maneuver — orchestrated like some grand scheme for the sake of maintaining power and financial prosperity. They were transactional arrangements, not arrangements founded in an intimate respect and understanding of each other. 

So, naturally, Keqing was speechless. And she remained that way — quiet, contemplative — for a moment before she at last dared her eyes to glaze over and meet Jia’s.

“Well ... ” she simpered. “Isn’t that nice?”

The pair then spent the next half hour or so in an amiable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. Jia unsurprisingly continued to read her book. Keqing, on the other hand, was thinking up a storm. 

As their time bordered an hour, they transitioned from sitting casually a few inches from each other, to Jia scooting her chair closer to Keqing’s, to Jia laying her head on Keqing’s lap, to a beet red Keqing resting her legs on Jia’s lap. They stayed like that for ... archons know how long. It was a miracle that it hadn’t been time for Jia and her family to leave yet.

By this point, exactly one hour and fifty-five minutes had passed. Jia’s book now lay abandoned at the foot of her chair. She instead intertwined her fingers with Keqing’s, whose head was perched comfortably on the crook of her shoulder.

The physical contact was a pleasant surprise. Keqing acknowledged this by squeezing the other girl’s hand. It’s funny because, well, Keqing had never been the affectionate type, let alone really had a friend before. There had been her parents’ servants and the occasional child of business partners from abroad, otherwise Keqing had always been a pretty lonely kid. 

That being said, she wasn’t particularly sure if the tightening that had been seizing and releasing the organ in her chest was from the contentment of having someone genuinely appreciate her ... or if she was just severely allergic to intimacy. 

Either way, when Jia turned slightly to look at her, probably to tell her some joke, Keqing moved up from her shoulder and pressed their lips together. Their teeth clinked and their noses mashed, which, well, ow ... and Jia tasted like the giant fried shrimp balls they gorged on for dinner which wasn’t bad as a dish, but tasted a little funny coming from someone else’s mouth. Not that Keqing’s breath reeked of anything better ...

... But all in all, no, that was ... not good. That was far from the most romantic first kiss in existence. It couldn’t even be considered romantic, really. Keqing recoiled as if she had been scorched, her entire face lit aflame. She searched Jia’s doe eyes and was on the brink of mumbling out an apology when, in that instant, Jia seized her face between her hands, an unreadable expression contrasting that of Keqing’s.

Without further hesitation, Jia drew her closer for another kiss — one that was soft and sincere just like her. 

It lasted for all of a couple of seconds. When Jia pulled back, it had been her face’s turn to heat up, its hue shy of scarlet.

Having lost all composure, Keqing dragged both hands through her once neatly plaited pigtails. “I apologize for, uh, attacking your face.”

Jia beamed, but not before flushing an even more telling shade of red ... ah yes, now she was scarlet. “No, uh ...” A girlish giggle leaked out from her awkward grin. “ ... Don’t worry about it.” It then dawned on her that Keqing’s lips were still but a hairsbreadth from hers. Jia quickly uncupped Keqing’s face and sat on her hands. 

“Sorry,” she mouthed.

Keqing tilted her head, picking at the nape of her neck in confusion. “Why are you sorry? I’m the one who kissed you first.”

And it was as if saying that word aloud is what made it real. Kissed. Keqing kissed Jia. Her friend. Her only friend.

She was tempted to completely shield her face with her hands, but she decided against it, in the off-chance that the gesture would traumatize Jia and inhibit her from ever talking to any guys (or girls ...) ever again, let alone getting wed to one.

The once amiable silence between them had descended into something tiptoeing the fine line between “awkward” and “grave”. Fortune seemed to favor both girls that fateful night, however, and it only took another minute or so before Jia’s mom had swung the door open, calling for her to say her goodbyes and head home with her.

And here was the awkward part: should Keqing see her out? And bid her a proper goodbye at the front door?

Alas, her body settled on a decision before her mind could, coercing her legs into walking down, down, down the spiraling staircase alongside Jia. It was only when both girls stood face-to-face at the door that Keqing was able to wrestle herself out of autopilot.

Jia’s mom had already begun her trek down the path leading to their home. Jia, however, hadn’t made any effort to budge from her place. She continued to stand there with both hands clasped behind her back, her aura an interesting mix of stalwart and shy.

Keqing smiled slightly in spite of herself, her own gaze glued to the floor. Only then was when ...

“Uh, good night!” Jia’s voice rung in the air an entire octave higher, causing Keqing’s eyes to lock onto hers like a magnet. The former flicked her fingers stiffly in a sort of cursory wave.

That wave. It was the wave that did it. Keqing inched forward and dipped her head to press a quick kiss to the corner of Jia’s mouth. She then guided her closer to the door, coaxing it further open.

“Good night,” she finally murmured in return, closing the door before Jia could muster a response. Oh, if only Keqing had stayed just a moment longer.

Because then, she would have caught the dopey look on Jia’s face. She would have seen Jia fondly graze her lips with the pads of her fingers. 

Keqing should not have shut that door so quickly.

Because they didn’t talk about it after that.

In fact, they didn’t talk at all.

[remedialpotions]

Over Biscuits

Happy birthday to one of my very favorite people, the amazing @aloemilk ! I feel so lucky to count you as a friend ❤️ I hope you enjoy this fluffy little fic!

Word Count: 2,075

Rating: K+

This can also be found on FFN (author: bowtruckles) and AO3 (author: remedialpotions)

***

Pausing in the doorway, Ron furrowed his brows at the scene developing before him. Hermione stood at the stove, her bushy hair just barely contained in a thick knot at the back of her head, gaze fixed intently on a saucepan. Not unsurprisingly - she was skilled at a great many things, but this really wasn’t one of them - her face betrayed more stupefaction than she’d ever displayed in Potions class. Given that this was his wheelhouse, he knew he should help her, but when she started nibbling on her lip, a flush rising in her cheeks from the heat emanating off the range, he thought there also wasn’t much harm in allowing himself to watch her.

Just for a minute, anyway. He didn’t see as much of her lately as he would have preferred, and it gave him a small glow of warmth, deep in the pit of his stomach, to see her standing in the kitchen of the Burrow, scowling at a recipe. Too many times over the past four months, he had thought the Christmas hols might never actually be upon them and that he would spend the whole of his life missing her, but she was home. For two glorious weeks, he had her all to himself, and he wasn’t going to let any of it slip away.

He always loved watching her when she didn’t know he was looking. Hermione was rarely vulnerable, but when it was just the two of them together, or he caught her in a moment when she thought she was alone, all of her pretenses fell away. She stopped being Hermione Granger, Head Girl and war hero and ‘brightest witch of her age’, and simply became the woman that he loved - the one standing in his parents’ kitchen with streaks of cinnamon across her cheeks.

“After melting butter on low heat,” Hermione was muttering to herself, eyes fixed on the stained and crumpled parchment before her, “stir in brown sugar, molasses, salt, and spices.”

She tugged a sack of brown sugar toward her, picked up a measuring cup, and dutifully dug it in.

“There are spells for that, y’know,” said Ron, opting to make his presence known and striding across the faded tile floor toward her. He plunked a tub of molasses down on the work surface and grinned at her.

“Yes, well.” Hermione used the back of her wrist to push a rogue lock of hair out of her eyes. “It never hurts to do things the Muggle way, does it?”

“No, s’pose not.” Stepping behind her, Ron set his hands on her hips, his chin coming to rest on the fuzzy wool covering her shoulder. As she leaned back against him, one of her hands falling onto his, he peered into the saucepan. “Er - I should probably tell you-“

She craned her neck to meet his eyes. “Oh no, what?”

“The butter,” said Ron, wincing. “It’s a bit - er -overmelted.”

With a sorrowful glance down at the oily, golden-brown liquid in the pan, Hermione let out a sigh of resignation.

“You can just say that I burned it, Ron.”

Suppressing a laugh, he pressed a firm kiss to her temple and tightened his arms around her waist. So many times over the past four months he had wanted to hold her, just to feel the warmth of her in his arms, and he wasn’t about to take it for granted now. He only had a second to relish it, however, before she wriggled out of his embrace to retrieve her wand from the kitchen table. In the next instant, the burned butter had vanished from the pan, replaced by a fresh new block from the cooling cupboard. Instantly it began to sizzle and hiss against the scorching cast iron.

“Oh, that’s too hot, see?” Ron reached around Hermione’s hip to dial down the flame. “It isn’t supposed to bubble like that.”

With her lips pursed tightly together, she glared at the butter as though it had committed a personal slight against her. She never did cope well with being less than the best at anything, even something as trivial as baking gingerbread biscuits.

“Just pretend that it’s Potions class,” he told her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and using his free hand to gently stir the butter with a wooden spoon. “You’re brilliant in Potions.”

“But you hate Potions - and yet you like doing this-“

“Yeah, well, this is better, it results in food,” he grinned. “And anyway, Potions was different, there’s no way to like a class when you've got either Snape breathing down my neck, or Slughorn, who poisoned me and still couldn’t remember my name-“

“Technically it was Malfoy who poisoned you, not Slughorn-“

“Still,” argued Ron, that little spark inside of him igniting like it always did when they bickered back and forth, “you’d think if someone nearly drops dead in your office, you’d-“

“Oh, stop,” Hermione whined. The genuine anguish on her face was like a blade through his chest. “Let’s not talk about that anymore.”

“Sorry.” He dropped a chaste kiss on her lips by way of apology. “Look, it’s really not a big deal,” he continued, deciding to pick up where she left off with the brown sugar. “We’re only responsible for the entire pudding portion of Christmas Eve dinner, so no pressure - oi!”

For she had pinched him on the arm.

“That isn’t funny,” she moaned. Eyes closed, she leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “What if I end up ruining it-“

“You won’t.”

“But-“

“You won’t,” he repeated gently. “We - we’ve had some pretty shit Christmases in our day, my family, but none of them have been completely ruined.” He quickly shoved away the thought that, in his eighteen years of life, no Christmas on record had ever followed events like that of the spring, and instead offered Hermione a smile. “It’d take a lot more than some botched gingerbread biscuits, I promise.”

She gave an relenting nod. “Fine.”

Her fingers brushed his as she took the wooden spoon from him, stirring as he poured the brown sugar into the melting butter. There was still a streak of cinnamon across her cheekbone, and he wiped it softly away with the pad of his thumb.

Unbeknownst to Hermione, Ron had actually offered, in conversation with his father one Sunday evening, to make all of the Christmas puddings. It was the one part of the meal he felt he could successfully prepare, and while he wasn’t naive enough to think that it would relieve the weight that had permanently settled onto his mum’s shoulders since the second of May, he felt it was the least he could do. He wasn’t naive, but he also wasn’t blind. He saw the weariness in her every time he and Harry visited for Sunday dinner, and as the pang of guilt shot through him, he would always promise himself he would do more, be there more. The only problem was that the Ministry of Magic seemed to think he had no life outside their intensive Auror Training program - and then George had asked him for help getting the shop back in order, and he couldn’t say no to that - and he’d also been Apparating to Hogsmeade every chance he got-

Anyway, baking a few batches of biscuits and a treacle tart felt like the very least he could do.

A companionable silence fell between them as they continued to prepare the dough, punctuated only by the occasional shared kiss or murmured request for an ingredient. And Ron let himself pretend, just for a second, that perhaps this wasn’t his parents’ kitchen, but their own, and maybe they weren’t baking for his family, but for their own children - and it was madness to think about, at eighteen, things like marriage and babies, but he couldn’t stop himself. He looked at Hermione, and he saw the whole world before him.

“So now,” he said, giving the sticky dough one last stir, his biceps sore from the effort, “this has to cool for about an hour, then we bake it.”

“So how do we spend our free hour?” asked Hermione, a sort of mischievous twinkle in her eye that made Ron deeply remorseful that his parents were in the next room. Kissing was one thing, but he definitely couldn’t sneak her up to his room undetected.

“I - well - as great an idea as that is, I - I got you something,” he confessed.

He had never seen her look so indignant. “You - but we promised-“

“I know, but it really isn’t a gift - just stay here for a second, yeah?”

Before she could respond, he kissed her hastily on the forehead and darted out of the kitchen.

It had been a strategic move to stow this little token of affection in his former bedroom at the Burrow, knowing that he and Hermione would be spending a good portion of her Christmas hols there. And while he understood why they had agreed not to exchange gifts, given that neither of them had any income to speak of, he couldn’t resist wanting to show her what she meant to him. He hoped this little item, silly and useless as it might have been, would maybe at least come close to doing that.

Her eyes were still shooting daggers at him when he returned to the kitchen.

“If it helps, you don’t have to think of it as a Christmas gift,” he said as he pressed the box into her hands. “It’s really just because I love you, anyway.”

At his words, her expression softened, and she leaned back against the work surface as she prised open the box; Ron’s stomach shook with nerves.

Gingerly, as though scared to harm it, Hermione pulled the little gold key from its bed of cotton with two fingers and looked expectantly up at Ron.

“It’s to Grimmauld Place,” he explained, though this did nothing to assuage the polite bewilderment on her face. “And I know what you’re thinking, that you don’t need a key to get into Grimmauld Place, but it’s - y’know, so that you know that it’s as much yours as it is mine or Harry’s.”

Her lips were on his before he could keep talking. Though he had more to say, he couldn’t help leaning into it, forgetting everything but her and the taste of sugar on her lips.

“But also,” he said around one last kiss, “it’s really mostly symbolic so it could also be for - for anywhere, really, that you and I might live together. Y’know, in the future.”

As Ron watched, a series of emotions crossed over her face in rapid succession as she pieced his words together: confusion, surprise, happiness.

“So you want to live together,” she stated as a smile split her face.

“I definitely don’t want to live apart,” he assured her. “Not any longer than we have to, anyway. This is for later, by the way,” he felt compelled to clarify. “For once you’re done at Hogwarts and you’ve set the record for most NEWTs achieved by a single student or something-“

“Stop-“

“I just mean,” he said, sobering a bit, “that it’s there for you whenever you’re ready - if that’s what you want-“

“Of course it’s what I want-“

“I’ve completely bungled this up, haven’t I?” said Ron, now a bit sheepish. “It was supposed to be romantic-“

“And it was - oh, come here-“

And she grasped him by the ears and kissed him soundly on the lips. When she pulled back, her fingers remained plunged in his hair.

“You still don’t really get it, do you?” Her nails tickled down the nape of his neck. “I love you-“

“I know you do-“

“And I want all the same things that you want.”

He knew that. Of course he knew that. Two people couldn’t share all that they had over the years without knowing, but she had never stated it quite so plainly before. It was something quite different to hear it aloud, to see their future etched more clearly before him.

“All right,” he said, reaching up to take her wrists in his hands. “All right, you decide, then. Wherever you want to live, whenever you want to live there - you just tell me and I’ll be there.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“And in the meantime,” Ron said, giving her forearms a tender squeeze, “we’ve got a treacle tart to make.”

[avecorviidae]

Fic: Aubade - Chapter Two

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100 Rating: M Relationship(s): Kageyama Ritsu/Suzuki Shou Word Count: 4828

Ao3 Link

Spirits and Such hasn’t changed much. It’s never, in Ritsu’s memory, been dirty, per-se. Well, alright, it’s been battered, wrecked, and burnt to the ground, but it’s never been grimy. Just… a little run-down. The walls are a shade of beige that Ritsu thinks might have been white once, the laminate tiles of the floor are uneven and scuffed all to hell, and there’s always something that’s jury-rigged, a bedsheet functioning as a curtain, or a dictionary shoved under an uneven table leg. A faint smell of smoke lingers in the air, despite Reigen kicking his habit for the most part. The building has its fair share of dings and dents as well. “Did you know there’s a hole in that wall?” He can’t really stop himself from asking. He’s been staring at it for about the last seven minutes, seeing as that’s about the only direction that Teru is allowing him to look. It’s not huge–probably only about the size of a golf ball, if you were to measure it. He keeps finding himself zoning out in its direction, though, a miniature black hole marring the otherwise uniform plaster. Teru makes a noncommittal hmm noise close to his ear as he leans down to snip at some stray hairs. He’s entered into a mode of pure concentration, one that Ritsu can only equate to when he’s reading a good book. In other words, Teru is more or less lost to the world. Mob, on the other hand, looks up from his phone in the direction that Ritsu is facing. “Oh, right,” he nods when he notices it. “A client was angry with Shishou, so he threw a stapler.” Ritsu moves to look fully at Mob, but a sharp tap on the side of his head reminds him to keep looking straight ahead, so he ends up directing his incredulous look at the hole in the wall. “He threw a stapler… at the wall? Not at Reigen?”

“Well, he was standing over there at the time. He was performing an exorcism.”

Ah, well that explains it. Teru, rummaging through his little hairdressing kit balanced on a nearby stool, glances over at Mob. “Speaking of that hole, when’s it getting fixed? Reigen said he was going to plaster it up months ago.” He finally comes up with a little black piece of plastic, which he fits to the head of the cordless clippers. He tilts Ritsu’s head forward, ordering, “Look down, please.” The ground is a welcome reprieve from the hole. Ritsu follows the path of a spider across the floor with his eyes while Teru takes the clippers to the back of his head.  

“He’s going to fix it,” Mob says earnestly, “He bought the plaster and everything! He just hasn’t had the time.” “Sure,” Teru says airily, “Just like he’s already bought oil for the door and a new latch for the window. All we’ve got now is a hardware store in our desk drawers, a hole in the wall, a door that sounds like the screams of the dying, and a window that’s held closed with duct tape, rope, and prayer.” He dusts some stray clippings off of the back of Ritsu’s neck and runs his fingers through the long hair at the top of his head. He grabs a few strands and starts to play around with them, flipping his bangs from one side to the other, pulling them back from his forehead altogether.  “Are you sure you won’t let me do anything different? I swear, Ritsu, half a decade` I’ve known you and you’ve never had any fun with this mop.” Ritsu sighs, batting Teru’s hand away. “You mean I’ve never let you have any fun with it?” Teru comes around to stand in front of him, crossing his arms and scrunching his face into a ridiculous pout. “Exactly! There’s only so much that I can do to myself, and Mob won’t let me do anything with his either. I swear, you two really are brothers.”

Well, he’s certainly pushed the limits of what he can do to his own hair, Ritsu thinks, glancing over Teru’s haircut. It’s longer than Ritsu remembers, with the blonde strands braided along his head and pulled into a bun at the top of his head, but the entire lower half seems to have been shaved close to the scalp, and there are little designs and patterns buzzed into the undercut. It’s certainly not the weirdest that Ritsu’s seen out of him, but it’s probably the most elaborate. “I liked the haircut you gave me,” Mob volunteers hesitantly, “I just… prefer this one. It’s simpler.” It had actually barely been different, Ritsu remembers, Teru had just shaved his undercut a little closer and changed his parting so that it was less of a uniform line down his forehead. Ritsu suspects that at least part of Mob’s discomfort with it had to do with the fact that people kept mistaking him for Ritsu when he forgot to brush it down. “Exactly,” Ritsu agrees. “This is easy to maintain.” He’s spent most of his life being able to roll out of bed without touching his hair, moreso now that he’s not living with a mother telling him to comb his hair all the time, and it’s a lifestyle he’d like to be able to continue. Life is hard enough without having to spend energy on styling that nonsense every morning. Teru rolls his eyes and mutters something as he turns to pack up his clippers, but it’s good-natured, the fond sort of grumbling that he adopts around Ritsu and Mob. When Reigen arrives, they’re all cleaning up the office, shoving the stool and the hair kit back into their rightful places and dragging out the ancient, barely functional vacuum cleaner in order to hoover up the piles of black hair scattered around the floor. They’ve been bickering about lunch for about the last three minutes, which is about enough time for Ritsu and Teru to have turned it into a full-on friendly shouting match, half to match the volume of the vacuum cleaner, and half because Ritsu has a deep moral objection to eating at any establishment that’s calling its food ‘experimental’.

Ritsu actually doesn’t notice him entering until he loudly clears his throat, making the room fall silent for just a moment before there’s a discordant mixture of greetings, a bright “Shishou!” from Mob, a slightly sheepish “Hey, Dad,” from Teru, and Ritsu gets caught somewhere in between, a weird mixture of ‘Reigen’ and ‘Dad that comes out as more of a general greeting sound that’s lost in the noise of the room.

Reigen just sighs as he strolls into the room, one hand in his pocket and the other ready to reach up and pull Ritsu into a one-armed hug. It’s a little awkwardly positioned, due to Ritsu being a bit taller than Reigen, but he still leans into it, letting Reigen reach up to ruffle his hair as he says, “Hey, looking good, kid! Not too shabby at all.” Ritsu steps out of the hug, before Reigen ends up sending any stray hair clippings flying. “Wow, thanks, I look exactly the same as I always do” he says, and it’s meant to be deadpan but he can’t stop himself from laughing just a little. Reigen claps a hand on his shoulder, saying, “Nah, I mean you don’t look very dead inside for someone who just took finals. I remember college, kiddo. It’s not a fun time.” Ritsu bites back any number of retorts ranging from Didn’t you drop out of college in your first semester? To I always look dead inside, instead settling on, “Dad, tell Teru that we’re going for Ramen.” He’s long gotten over the embarrassment of accidentally calling Reigen ‘dad’. It was inevitable, considering how often they’ve all being doing it since they were in middle school. By this point, he’s learned the strategic advantages of doing it on purpose. Case in point: it’s a surefire way to get him on your side in an argument. Reigen squints at Teru. “As opposed to?” Teru gets about three sentences into his explanation of his strange, obscure, trendy restaurant before Reigen cuts him off. “Mob, is the food there any good?” Teru’s taste in food famously cannot be trusted, whereas Mob has proven to be decent, though he’s pretty easy to please. He’s usually the deciding factor in these decisions, and any argument beforehand is just for the sake of routine. Mob hesitates, clearly caught between being honest with Reigen and not hurting Teru’s feelings. He eventually seems to decide on, “Their milk was nice…” and Ritsu’s guessing it’s probably the only neutral statement he can actually make about the place without lying. Reigen claps his hands with the air of authority and finality that’s basically the only thing that puts him in charge of this business, and says, “Alright, ramen it is!”

-

Something is up, and Mob is in on it. Ritsu’s not sure it’s a bad thing, but it’s definitely a secret from him specifically, because Teru keeps shooting him these knowing looks, and he’s trying to send conspiratorial grins in Mob’s direction, but his brother has stuck to Reigen’s other side, half hiding behind him, clearly trying to avoid eye contact. Reigen seems oblivious to the whole thing, but then again, you could never really tell with him.

Still, if it were something negative, Mob would probably look a lot more stressed, so Ritsu decides to leave it be. Despite how reserved he can be with his emotions, in many respects Mob does and always has worn his heart on his sleeve, and even if Ritsu hadn’t been able to read his brother’s emotions easily, it would probably be a simple matter to tell if he were upset or guilty. They probably make an odd group, walking down the street. Ritsu and Mob are on either side of Reigen, taking up most of the sidewalk, so the obvious solution for Teru is apparently to take a few steps forward and walk backwards so that he’s facing them. Reigen and Mob have warned him every time he’s almost bumped into poles, boxes, assorted street junk, or a dog, but Ritsu is keeping quiet, mainly because the pure comedy factor of Teru falling flat on his ass would be a beautiful, beautiful thing. Also, if he were on the ground, Ritsu wouldn’t have to look at that shirt anymore.

It’s a decently styled shirt, sure, loose and wavy where it’s tucked into his high-waisted jeans and hanging off of one shoulder, and Ritsu thinks it might look like soft material, or at least, it would if it wasn’t neon fucking yellow. The glare of the sun off of the damn thing is enough to make them all squint at Teru as he talks, telling some story about one client or another, throwing his arms out as he trots backwards (and almost hitting a streetlight with his hands about every ten seconds) and messing with the brim of his cap about as much as Reigen plays with his tie.

It’s a quick walk, since they’re just going to the nearest ramen place to the office, and it’s a relief to step out of the rapidly warming morning sun and into the cool shade of the building. Teru immediately slides into the booth next to Mob, so Ritsu ends up elbow to elbow with Reigen, once more staring Teru’s atrocity of a shirt right in the face.

Once they’ve ordered, Reigen says, “‘Fraid I can’t stay too long, I’ve got an exorcism in an hour or so.” Teru’s been typing on his phone since they sat down, with Mob resting his chin on his shoulder in order to read off of his screen. “That’s fine,” he says lightly, not looking up from the screen, “we were just going to take a walk around town anyways.” Ritsu raises an eyebrow at him. “We were?” “Yep! You need a new shirt.” Ritsu looks down at the shirt he’s wearing. He’d grabbed a white, kind of blue-ish button-up from his closet, basically the kind of thing that he could throw on comfortably and still technically be dressing like an ‘adult’. It wasn’t exactly a new shirt, but it wasn’t dirty or in disrepair, so he doesn’t really see why he’d need a new one… and knowing Teru, he’ll probably try to stick Ritsu in something neon, florally patterned, or both. Mob glances up to smile at Reigen. “Be careful, Shishou. Call us if you need any help.” Ritsu snorts quietly. You mean if it turns out to actually be a spiritual thing? Reigen nods, putting on his air of adult authority as he says, “Of course! I’ll probably be fine, though. It didn’t seem like something particularly dangerous.” Because you’re such a brilliant judge of that.

He feels his phone buzzing in his back pocket, and shuffles around in the booth until he can pull it out to look at it. FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) WHY ARE CHILDREN LOUD THIS KID HAS BEEN SCREAMING FOR LIKE AN HOUR RITSU WHY

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) Same

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) I MEAN ME TOO BUT I USUALLY KEEP IT TO MYSELF

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) No you dont Everyone within a 5 mile radius knows your problems FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) SHHHHHHH LET ME COMPLAIN

TO: YOUR FAVORITE ;) STOP SCREAMING

FROM: YOUR FAVORITE ;) NO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Teru snaps his fingers under Ritsu’s eyes. “Oi, stop smiling at your phone and agree with me already!” Ritsu narrows his eyes. “About?” “Kale.” “No.”

-

“No!”

Ritsu shoves the hanger, shirt and all, back into Teru’s arms. Teru fruitlessly tries to push it on him again. “Come on, Ritsu, it suits you perfectly!” Ritsu pinches the bridge of his nose, reaching out to lean on the clothes rack for support. “Okay, one: yellow. Two: elbow patches.”

They’ve been in this store for about half an hour and they’ve already had this exchange upwards of ten times. Ritsu had learned after the first time not to try on everything Teru handed to him, but Mob is somehow still falling for the “We won’t know until you put it on!” speil, and well. Ritsu has a few moral standards, but he isn’t above taking pictures. He’s sent a few of the choice ones, including one shirt that seemed to be made out of woven strips of plastic bag, and a pair of pants that were just straight up bell-bottoms, to Shou, and has received various levels of incoherent gibberish in response.

Mob, helping to sift through the clearance rack, holds up another hanger. “Oh… this is nice?” Teru glances over. “Let’s see it, then!” He brings it over to them, holding the sweater up for Teru’s inspection. It looks… not too bad, actually. It’s a light, faded shade of green, nothing like the abrasive primary colors that Teru has been shoving in his face all day, and it looks comfortable. Teru reaches out and pinches the hem between his fingers. “Is this…? Oooh, cashmere! This is clearance?” He takes the hanger from Mob and hands it to Ritsu. “Put this on.” For once, Ritsu actually agrees, so he starts towards the changing rooms, but only makes it a couple of steps before Teru snags him by the elbow. “No no no,” he corrects, “I mean over your shirt.” Ritsu raises an eyebrow, but complies. “Alright…?” It’s soft as sin, and it looks warm, but it’s thin and light enough that even in the middle of summer, the heat isn’t overbearing or too uncomfortable. Teru walks around him slowly, scanning him up and down with a thoughtful expression. He steps into Ritsu’s space and starts fussing with the him, pulling the collar of his dress shirt out to the front and reaching under to untuck his shirt so that it pokes out from under the hem of the sweater. He smooths the fabric over Ritsu’s shoulders and takes a few steps back, looking over him again before scrunching the sleeves of the sweater up to his elbows and rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt over them. It actually makes the heat quite a bit better. Teru gives a satisfied nod. Mob smiles at him. “That suits you, Ritsu.” Teru walks around him, and Ritsu feels him tugging on the price tag at the back of his neck. “Oooh, cheap too.” Ritsu pulls it over his head, agreeing, “Yeah, I like it. It’s the only thing I’m buying though, alright? I’m not exactly made of money here.” His parents still send him a monthly allowance for meals and such, and he still has some money saved from the last time he’d helped out at Spirits and Such on a job, but he still prefers to be careful with his spending. Mob and Teru stay over by the clearance rack while he’s in the checkout line, and he can see them both hunched over Teru’s phone, talking to each other hurriedly. Teru grabs the phone from Mob’s hands and starts to make a call, but Ritsu can’t try to catch any more of what’s going on before he’s reached the front of the line. It takes probably less than two minutes to finish buying the sweater, but by the time he walks back over, Teru’s already hung up. “Who was that?” “Nobody important,” Teru says, far too hurriedly. “Really.” Ritsu raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. Apropos of absolutely nothing, Mob comments, “We should get ice cream.” Teru pounces on the idea with an enthusiasm that makes Ritsu think that something is definitely about to happen. He manages to sweep the three of them out of the door, get Ritsu to put his new sweater back on, offer to pay for everyone’s cones, and get them walking towards the nearby ice cream place before Ritsu can even register that it’s happening.

The conversation drifts around as they walk, from some of the weirder clients Mob and Teru have gotten at Spirits and Such, to the most annoying little shits Ritsu has ever had the displeasure to sit next to during a lecture, but as the ice cream place comes into view, they switch to flavors.

Mob is, with dairy products, by and large without a flavor preference and almost always chooses vanilla, so he’s mostly excluded from this discussion. Well, less discussion, more Teru telling Ritsu about unusual flavors and Ritsu being boring and judging him for it. “Kiwi.” “Eugh, what? Why? Who took a look at a fucking kiwi and decided to make it into ice cream? That’s so unnecessary.” “It’s good, though.” Ritsu doesn’t even dignify that with a response, just gives him a look. They’ve been in the ‘obscure fruits’ vein for a while now. “I’ve got to say, I’m with Ritsu on this one,” Shou says as he falls into step on Ritsu’s other side, “Kiwis look like balls, dude.” Ritsu stops dead in his tracks, and the other three stop with him. About a thousand and one thoughts cycle through his head, and he wants to say how long have you been following us and wow I didn’t realize that I missed you until literally this exact moment and he wants to punch Teru in the fucking face because that smug grin says that this is what’s been going on all morning, and his brother’s little smile only corroborates, but he only manages to grit out, “You asshole,” before he grabs Shou into a hug and squeezes. Shou’s laughing at him, but he also immediately reciprocates, wrapping his arms around Ritsu’s waist and pressing his face into his chest. Come high school, Ritsu had grown. Shou… well, less so, enough that Ritsu can rest his chin on Shou’s head. It’s. Well, it’s a lot of things, almost tight enough to be uncomfortable and definitely a little too warm, and Shou’s hands, fisted in the back of his sweater, are definitely going to leave some crumples, but god, it’s nice, just to stay there. Mob says, “Ah, Teruki, they’re…” Teru laughs, saying, “Yeah, they sure are. Alright, you two, let’s go before your auras start being indecent.” Ritsu starts to say what’s that supposed to mean? But he gets distracted by Shou stepping out of his space quickly enough to leave Ritsu feeling unbalanced, but oh, and then he gets it because he can actually feel Shou’s aura clinging to him, indescribably warm in the way it sits on his shoulders, trails down his arms and threads through his fingers. It’s withdrawing fast though, following Shou as he steps back, running fingers through his hair and grumbling about gel and ruining his style. It leaves Ritsu feeling oddly cold, considering that the sun is beating down on them relentlessly. Ritsu’s pretty sure Shou’s hair was a hot mess even before the hug, and the rest of him is looking a little dishevelled as well, just something about the vaguely blurry way Shou’s blinking at them and the rumpled look of his clothes makes him think… “Did you just come straight from the airport?” It probably sounds more accusatory than he intended, but Shou looks dead-walking, with the beginnings of bags under his eyes and a slight sway to the way he’s standing. Ritsu doesn’t even know where he’s just come from, didn’t even know that he was coming. His face is tinged an angry pink, making the freckles on his cheeks stand out in stark contrast, and he’s wearing a red tank top that shows that the light sunburn trails down his shoulders as well.

Shou crosses his arms, laughing a little sheepishly. “Well, yeah. The plan was, I’d have time to go back to the house before we met up, but I got laid over big time in LAX, so I basically just got here.” Shou, who seems to have a deep seated moral objection to staying still for any length of time, starts to walk in the direction of the ice cream place again, and the rest of the group automatically starts to follow. He doesn’t so much walk in a straight line as he weaves, vaguely between Mob and Teru and then in front and behind them, but manages to end up back at Ritsu’s side, falling into step beside him easily for the rest of the short walk. As predicted, Mob gets vanilla. Shou gets one scoop of chocolate and one of vanilla, and Ritsu gets mint chocolate chip. Teru gets kiwi purely to spite him. They sit at a little white table outside of the shop, with a bright pink umbrella shading them. Teru had told off Shou for putting his feet up on the table, so he’s got them resting on Ritsu’s knee as he tells them all about the storms in New York, falling asleep in some other gate in LA, sprinting halfway across the airport to catch his flight.

Ritsu knows that all of this was probably pretty stressful at the time, and that travelling is kind of hell, but Shou always tells airport stories in this ridiculous way that leaves them all doubled over laughing, Teru’s loud snickering almost drowning out Mob’s giggles, muffled into the sleeve of his shirt. By the time Shou’s halfway through retelling his layover in LAX, Ritsu’s laughing so hard that all that’s coming out are near-silent wheezes, and he’s bent over at the waist, gripping at his burning stomach. When he can breathe again, he notices that Shou’s fallen silent, and looks up to see that he’s staring at him, this kind of soft, open smile that makes Ritsu grin back at him even as he’s asking, “What? Is there ice cream on my face?” Shou shakes his head slightly, says, “Nah, but look! I made you laugh!” He almost says These stories always make me laugh but Shou wouldn’t know that, would he? He wouldn’t really know that Ritsu always snorts every time Shou sends him a picture of something gross he found in an airport bathroom at three in the morning, or that he has to bite the back of his hand to stifle his laughter when he’s in lectures, staring down at his phone as Shou sends paragraph after paragraph complaining about the weird German guy he met in customs who kept offering him various and dubiously legal meat products.

Mob’s phone rings before Ritsu can say anything, and he gives a quiet “oh,” before putting it to his ear and saying, “Is everything alright, Shishou?” He’s silent for a few moments, listening, before he says, “Ah, I see. I can come. Yes, I’ll be there soon, text me the address. Please be careful.” Ritsu raises an eyebrow. “Spirit?” “Yeah.” Teru nods thoughtfully. “Well, that puts a bit of a wrench in our plans. Hmm…” He fiddles with his cap for a moment, considering. “Here’s the new plan: Mob and I go help Reigen with the exorcism, you two hang out, we all meet up for dinner. Sound good?” Ritsu shrugs, nodding in agreement. “Sure.” Everyone else follows suit, and as soon as Reigen texts them the address, Teru threads his fingers through Mob’s and the two set off at a brisk walk, with Shou shouting, “Tell Pops hi for me!” at their backs. Ritsu finally sucks up and asks the question that’s been eating at the back of his mind. “You’ll be able to tell him yourself, won’t you? I mean, depending on how long you’re in town.” Shou blinks at him once, twice, then says, “Oh! Right, no, yeah,” and it’s hard to tell because the umbrella has washed Shou in pink, but he looks almost embarrassed, and he thinks he might be blushing, “I’m back for good. There’s other business, and stuff, but I can do pretty much all of it online now.” He tries for a laugh and makes it most of the way, but it’s just a little shaky. “Modern technology, it’s pretty cool.” Ritsu finds himself breathing a sigh of relief and realizes that he’d been worried, that Shou was going to disappear again, show up in the country again and then go on another year-long trip, slipping out of his life like the threads of his aura slipping through Ritsu’s fingers. Because, it’s, well, it’s not like the texting and the calling and the Skyping wasn’t nice, but, well. They’d been practically attached at the hip since middle school, and this past year hasn’t been fun without him. He’ll still be a ten hour train ride away once Ritsu goes back to Grain City in a couple of weeks, but having him staying, living, in the country makes something nervous settle in Ritsu’s chest. “Oh, cool. So, you’re moving back into your mom’s old house?” Shou nods. “Yeah. I haven’t been back there, but it’s probably kinda gross now. It was never the nicest place to start with.” “It’s huge. Shou, it’s practically its own estate.” Shou’s eyebrows shoot up along with his arms, and he stands up, pacing as he answers. “Exactly!” There’s no way to fill up that many rooms! It always feels empty and weird, like there’s ghosts everywhere!” “You’re psychic, Shou, you would be able to see any ghosts.” Ritsu is leaning on the table, resting his chin on his palm and watching Shou bounce around with a bemused smile. Eventually he comes to a standstill, thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his washed out grey jeans. Somehow he’s managed to put away two scoops of ice cream and about half of Ritsu’s in less than half an hour, whereas Ritsu is still munching on the cone of his. “Wanna walk?” Shou says, and he’s been still for all of three seconds but he’s already bouncing on his toes. Ritsu stands as he shoves the last of his cone into his mouth. “Mhm,” he says, fixing his sweater and readjusting the sleeves. They start down a random street, without a real sense of direction, just like they’d done in school. Shou’s tempo only matches Ritsu for steps at a time before he’ll suddenly trot a few steps ahead, or get distracted staring at a shop window and drag behind, but it’s a comfortable rhythm, well established and easy to fall into. They walk in silence for a block or so, and Ritsu would usually wait for Shou to start the conversation, knowing he’ll take them down some strange, arbitrary philosophical track like ‘How scared shitless must the caveman who accidentally made the first fire have been? Wild,’ that’ll last them most, if not all, of their walk, but Ritsu has a jab he’s been meaning to make. “So, screaming children on planes, huh?” Shou stops dead on the sidewalk, burying his face in his hands and groaning from between his fingers. “Please, god, no, never again.”

[sketzocase]

Okay so have I told y’all before that I had like a massive surgery when I was a toddler because I had acid reflux sooooo bad that I was literally starving to death b/c it got to a point where I could no longer eat liquids OR solids?

Yea— massive surgery. Massive scar. Nearly died.

When I was little my mother was trying her best to ya know- keep me alive. And I did not understand that food=puke=equal more hungry. SO during this time- when all she could give me were liquids and my doctors were preparing me for the necessary surgery- I ate the stuffing out of the couch pillows, fluff from several toys AND half a pack of my mom’s cigarettes. Yum. (The last one she was sure to call poison control and everything- and I’m still here so... may have influenced me to be a smoker- though. Or what I smoke- to be more precise- to this day I really can’t stand the taste of menthols... so...)

Anyway- my stomach is FUCKED up. Like internally it had to be tilted and then tied in some kind of weird knot like thing so my body would be like food=good , puke=bad.

The surgery has held up pretty well- I’m 28 now and have had a few on and off again problems- but nothing major.

Trouble is- this whole system thing is so fucked up- that I can never really tell when I’m going to.. randomly just be violently ill sometimes.

Like if I have a persistent cough- I will puke. I will gag myself via coughing and then be majorly sick. I don’t have a stomach virus- I’m completely fine- I just coughed to hard and my magical stomach organ system decided- cough? Must puke.

So yea- I just woke my household up b/c I went into the shower and had a coughing fit (probably b/c ya know- I smoke) and then had to stumble out of the shower- to try and make sure the vomit went where it was supposed to go. Which for me- is not in the toilet- b/c when I’m sick- b/c of the surgery- it’s really violent and painful and the contracting muscles- for some reason- make me piss. So cough-vomit-piss. That’s literally the order.

So I nearly fell out the shower- onto he floor- soaked the tile- I’m gagging really loud, I make it to the toilet- sit down- and puke into the trash can that I personally strategically place on the back of the toilet so I can throw up without pissing myself.

So my father is knocking on the door- inbetween bouts of puke I try to tell him that I am okay and to not come into the bathroom b/c I have managed to crawl out of the shower and in doing so am not dressed. (I kinda missed the trash can and threw up on my towel so- yea. Naked.)

When I get sick- it’s not like ‘oh a little sick’. My stomach is literally like ‘nope- everything must go.’ So it’s everything I’ve eaten that day+everything I’ve drunk and this time + the tums I took to try and fix the heartburn- which is probably why I was coughing in the first place. I empty myself, find another towel- open the door and my dad’s just standing there like ‘wtf’ and instead of explaining it all calmly like I just did to y’all all i said was ‘I had to cough’. And walked to my room.

So yea. Little look into the ‘normal’ nights at Sketz’s house.

He actually took that response and went back to bed.

I’m completely fine- though a little pissed b/c the last thing I ate was the last of the pizza and strangely enough- even after just having been ill- I want more pizza. Think I’ll settle for ice cream instead.

[amplepower]

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile!

Compared to the last nine months of gradual progress on our beach house, it feels like things are moving at breakneck speed lately. So this post is one big smorgasbord of updates (but the good kind of smorgasbord, with exotic cheeses and chocolate fondue). Just like I consider this picture of the house’s foyer to be the good kind of messy.

I guess practically anything is a good kind of mess compared to the actual mess we had at the start of this project. Memmm-ries….

I know, I know, those two photos don’t look all that different, but what you can’t see is the repaired not-collapsing foundation, the new not-leaking roof, the fresh not-rotting siding, all of the updated plumbing and electrical, an HVAC system that we can’t wait to fire up, and fresh drywall without any mold or cracks. It’s the little things.

The most comprehensive way to get caught up on everything is actually this video that Sherry shot last week. It’ll get you up to speed in no time. Well, not no time, but if you’ve spent as many hours tiling as we have lately, ten minutes should feel like a blink. Note: If you’re reading in a feed reader, you might have to click through to the post to see the player. 

Something that has made a surprisingly big difference is the addition of trim and doors. Our contractor was actively installing them while we were there tiling, so it’s not complete in these pics, but you can already start to see how much more FINISHED the house is feeling with them.

We saved as much of the original trim as possible during demo, but a fair amount of it was too rotten to use, so we couldn’t come close to outfitting the entire house with it. So we made some strategic choices to get the most impact – meaning we did the entire foyer and all of the doorways downstairs (along with the stained glass windows leading up the stairs) with original trim. Everything else got a simple, chunky trim treatment similar to what we’ve seen in other restored houses around town.

When we shared a sneak peek of the trim going up on Instagram, we got some questions about why it wasn’t primed and painted before it was hung – the answer is that our contractor preferred to hang things first and then paint afterwards since they have to caulk it all after it’s hung anyway and they weren’t sure which reclaimed trim pieces would be useful and which ones wouldn’t work/fit, so they didn’t want to paint all the possible pieces and then caulk and paint again – they’d rather hang them and then caulk and paint only the “winners” that made it onto the walls.

Also, it’s actually really fortuitous that they didn’t prime and paint everything white before it went back up, because seeing some of these muted colors on the trim – specifically the soft gray color on the front stairs and the pale blue-gray color around the doorway in the above photo made us second guess our original instinct to paint all of the trim white. I know, you’re shocked because our middle names could be “Bright White Trim” but it’s true. You can hear more about what we’re thinking in Sherry’s video, but we’re toying with color matching those two tones and using them in some spots around the house.

We also saved all of the original doors so they could be rehung. Even though it saved us the cost of new doors, it ended up being more expensive overall because our contractor had to build new jambs for each one (whereas new doors come pre-hung and can be slid into place faster). But it was well worth the expense for all of the original character they add. Our favorite is this chippy blue fellow that separates the mudroom and the kitchen/dining room. It’ll remain open most of the time (except for maybe when laundry is running in the mudroom) and we plan to just clean it up and clear coat it so that we can retain the worn, aged look without worrying about old paint chipping off.

For reference, here it was in one of our “before” photos shortly after we bought the house. And it wasn’t until I uploaded this photo that I realized our HVAC guy was standing behind the glass. It’s from way back in the fall when we had him out to get a quote, ha!

Upstairs got all of the original wood doors that had hung up there before. This is the front bedroom, where we discovered that cool brick chimney behind the walls, which we also left exposed in the living room below it. Still gotta fix that hole, though.

As Sherry says in the video, we’re having mixed feelings about the wood doors. We were very excited to hang them as-is, but they’re darker and more scratched than we remembered. And not in a cool weathered/old way, more of in an Edward-Scissorhands-was-trying-to-open-each-door kind of way. You can’t really see that in the pics, but the video above gives you a better view.

And since all of these dark doors will pretty much exist in the same windowless hallway, we’re starting to worry that they’ll feel gloomier than we intended (this photo below gives you a sense of what it might feel like). In an ideal world where money and time are no object, we’d sand each door down by hand and clear seal them to get them closer in color to the heart pine floors – but we might be working on that until we’re 92, so we have also tossed around ideas like painting them the same soft gray color as the foyer’s stairway trim. It could look really cool (all of the downstairs doors and some of the upstairs bathroom ones are already painted anyway), but we’re gonna let things come together more before making a final decision.

And lest you think the contractors are the only ones having all the fun, let’s get into what we’ve been up to. As you probably heard on Instagram, Facebook, and/or our podcast, we’ve been making some trips out there lately to lay tile. First we spent 19 solid hours across two days tiling four floors (three bathrooms and one attached mudroom) and we went again last week to tile all three shower pans. We still have three shower walls to tile and then we have to grout everything, but it definitely feels good to slowly chip away at one of our bigger line items (we’re saving over $12K by doing the tiling ourselves).

The shot above is the mudroom (nothing’s grouted and everything’s still VERY dusty) which extends into the downstairs full bath (seen below). We chose an affordable and durable slate-looking 12 x 24″ porcelain tile for the floor (this one from Lowe’s) and did the shower pan with a basketweave that we picked up at Floor & Decor (this one). The shower walls are just going to get an extra long white subway-ish tile that we also found at Lowe’s (this one).

We’re trying to keep the tile choices on the classic side, so they feel appropriate for an old house, but we’re still having some fun with them (like the blue asterisk/star/flower tiles we added in the master bathroom – more on that in a sec).

The upstairs hall bath is nearly identical in layout to the downstairs bath below it, but since it doesn’t get quite as much light, we wanted to avoid a super dark floor. This is another durable 12 x 24″ porcelain tile that almost has a concrete feeling. It’s a nice warm gray color, and once it’s grouted with a similarly toned grout it won’t have the high contrast lines that you see below. We kept the shower pan simple with white hex tile, since this is where our slightly “out there” patterned blue tile is going as an accent wall in the shower (you can see the inspiration pic of it in use that sold us on it here). That’s next on our install list and we’re so excited to see it go up!

We were in such a time crunch to install all of this tile that we didn’t really stop to take a ton of process photos, but we’ve documented plenty of tiling projects before (floors, backsplashes, fireplace surrounds, shower walls). The main difference this time is the orange Schlueter system our contractor recommended in lieu of cement board (he swears by it, so we were game to give it a try), and we also used the new-to-us LASH system for spacing and leveling.

One of the hardest parts of installing the large format tiles in our sunroom was avoiding “lippage,” aka when adjacent tiles aren’t level and you get a visible (or toe-stubbable) lip. Adjusting tiles to be level burned up a lot of time on that sunroom project, so I was attracted to the LASH system as a way to eliminate that worry. The white plastic clips act as spacers between the tiles, but also go under the edge of each tile. Once the tiles are placed on each side of the clip, you shove the yellow wedge through the hole in the clip and it pushes the tiles to the exact same height. I highly recommend spending the $20 on the special pliers (seen in the background below) which spare your thumbs when tightening the wedges.

Once everything has set and dried (we did this at least 24 hours later), you just have to kick the clips with your foot swiftly and they snap off below the tile, so you’d never know they were ever there. It was actually really, really easy.

The most time-consuming part of our tiling to-do list was the upstairs master bathroom, where we went classic with a bit of a twist by laying these retro black & white hex sheets, but replacing the black flowers (or asterisks or stars or snowflakes, depending on who you ask) with these blue tiles.

Here’s a peek at our “prep table” – which is really just a clawfoot tub with a piece of drywall over it where Sherry systematically peeled off the black tiles from each sheet, and broke up the blue sheets into individual tiles for a quicker installation process.

Like with any tiling project, first we like to “dry fit” our layout so we can be certain that we like the spacing of everything before it’s stuck down. It was during this test that we realized we liked this staggered/offset pattern more than having the flowers in a perfect grid.

It took us much longer than we expected, hence us tiling until the sun set (with no power turned on in the house yet). So we resorted to this battery powered work-light and our iphone’s flashlights to double-check our spacing one last time before calling it a night and picking up where we left off the next morning.

And on our trip back last week, we continued the pattern into the shower pan as well. Since this shower will have a glass wall on one side, we thought it made sense to continue the pattern we had already laid on the rest of the floor (rather than have a random square in one corner with something that looked different or didn’t line up).

It was a bit of a headache to line the pattern up, but it all worked out nicely in the end. Once this is all grouted it’ll look even more finished. And once we tile the shower of course. Details!

We’re hoping to head back sometime this week to start those shower walls (the master is getting the same long white subway-ish tile as downstairs) but at the pace things are going, who knows when we’ll complete them.

The last time we were there Sherry also squeezed in some “reconnaissance cleaning” of the original clawfoot tub. We didn’t have any cleaning supplies with us, but even with just some water and a sponge it revealed that everything seems to just be a surface stain – like some mineral deposits and lots of dust/dirt. Even that rust stain started to come off to reveal white cast iron goodness underneath it when she scrubbed.

So we’re hoping that with a bit more elbow grease, we’ll be able to reuse this baby without having to have it reglazed (that is a coating that’s pretty durable but can scrape off over time – so restoring the original basin without needing to paint/glaze over it would be awesome). And as for the outside of the tub, you can just prime and paint it. Like this or this. Sherry can barely wait for that step.

And while we were there, the HVAC guy came and installed the A/C units outside so we’re just days away from being able to cool the house. Oh how we wish we had them a few weeks ago when we were tiling on a 90-degree day! But it’s feeling pretty awesome to have one more giant house to-do almost completely checked off the list.

Another thing that we got to check off? RUNNING WATER! The town installed our long-lost water meter last week and our plumber is working on getting us hooked up to it this week. If you caught last week’s podcast, you heard the saga of how a few decades ago our house’s water meter was mysteriously placed many houses away (on another street even!), which meant that old leaky line ran under a bunch of neighbors’ yards, including a shed and several fences.

At first, we were told we’d have to dig up two roads and pay $15K to connect a new/safe line in front of our house, but then the city found an old diagram that indicated we might already have a verrrry old line out front – we just needed to find it. So after a whole lot of digging and metal-detecting and more digging, the town’s big yellow excavator found evidence of that very old line in front of our house, and they agreed to repair that line so we’d have a water meter in front of our house like everyone else on the street. Whew!

So yeah, definitely the good kind of mess. :)

If you want to catch up on all of the other beach h0use updates we’ve shared, here ya go:

Drywall is up, and it’s glorious!

Finding a vintage pink stove

Stuff Sherry bought (way too early)

The outside’s almost done & the inside’s getting good

That time our beach house photobombed HGTV

Walls up, walls down, and a new floor plan

How we picked the exterior color

Gathering beach house style inspiration

Beach house “before” video & floor planning

Holy seashells, we bought a beach house!

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Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! posted first on findqueenslandelectricians.blogspot.com

[statusreview]

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile!

Compared to the last nine months of gradual progress on our beach house, it feels like things are moving at breakneck speed lately. So this post is one big smorgasbord of updates (but the good kind of smorgasbord, with exotic cheeses and chocolate fondue). Just like I consider this picture of the house’s foyer to be the good kind of messy.

I guess practically anything is a good kind of mess compared to the actual mess we had at the start of this project. Memmm-ries….

I know, I know, those two photos don’t look all that different, but what you can’t see is the repaired not-collapsing foundation, the new not-leaking roof, the fresh not-rotting siding, all of the updated plumbing and electrical, an HVAC system that we can’t wait to fire up, and fresh drywall without any mold or cracks. It’s the little things.

The most comprehensive way to get caught up on everything is actually this video that Sherry shot last week. It’ll get you up to speed in no time. Well, not no time, but if you’ve spent as many hours tiling as we have lately, ten minutes should feel like a blink. Note: If you’re reading in a feed reader, you might have to click through to the post to see the player. 

Something that has made a surprisingly big difference is the addition of trim and doors. Our contractor was actively installing them while we were there tiling, so it’s not complete in these pics, but you can already start to see how much more FINISHED the house is feeling with them.

We saved as much of the original trim as possible during demo, but a fair amount of it was too rotten to use, so we couldn’t come close to outfitting the entire house with it. So we made some strategic choices to get the most impact – meaning we did the entire foyer and all of the doorways downstairs (along with the stained glass windows leading up the stairs) with original trim. Everything else got a simple, chunky trim treatment similar to what we’ve seen in other restored houses around town.

When we shared a sneak peek of the trim going up on Instagram, we got some questions about why it wasn’t primed and painted before it was hung – the answer is that our contractor preferred to hang things first and then paint afterwards since they have to caulk it all after it’s hung anyway and they weren’t sure which reclaimed trim pieces would be useful and which ones wouldn’t work/fit, so they didn’t want to paint all the possible pieces and then caulk and paint again – they’d rather hang them and then caulk and paint only the “winners” that made it onto the walls.

Also, it’s actually really fortuitous that they didn’t prime and paint everything white before it went back up, because seeing some of these muted colors on the trim – specifically the soft gray color on the front stairs and the pale blue-gray color around the doorway in the above photo made us second guess our original instinct to paint all of the trim white. I know, you’re shocked because our middle names could be “Bright White Trim” but it’s true. You can hear more about what we’re thinking in Sherry’s video, but we’re toying with color matching those two tones and using them in some spots around the house.

We also saved all of the original doors so they could be rehung. Even though it saved us the cost of new doors, it ended up being more expensive overall because our contractor had to build new jambs for each one (whereas new doors come pre-hung and can be slid into place faster). But it was well worth the expense for all of the original character they add. Our favorite is this chippy blue fellow that separates the mudroom and the kitchen/dining room. It’ll remain open most of the time (except for maybe when laundry is running in the mudroom) and we plan to just clean it up and clear coat it so that we can retain the worn, aged look without worrying about old paint chipping off.

For reference, here it was in one of our “before” photos shortly after we bought the house. And it wasn’t until I uploaded this photo that I realized our HVAC guy was standing behind the glass. It’s from way back in the fall when we had him out to get a quote, ha!

Upstairs got all of the original wood doors that had hung up there before. This is the front bedroom, where we discovered that cool brick chimney behind the walls, which we also left exposed in the living room below it. Still gotta fix that hole, though.

As Sherry says in the video, we’re having mixed feelings about the wood doors. We were very excited to hang them as-is, but they’re darker and more scratched than we remembered. And not in a cool weathered/old way, more of in an Edward-Scissorhands-was-trying-to-open-each-door kind of way. You can’t really see that in the pics, but the video above gives you a better view.

And since all of these dark doors will pretty much exist in the same windowless hallway, we’re starting to worry that they’ll feel gloomier than we intended (this photo below gives you a sense of what it might feel like). In an ideal world where money and time are no object, we’d sand each door down by hand and clear seal them to get them closer in color to the heart pine floors – but we might be working on that until we’re 92, so we have also tossed around ideas like painting them the same soft gray color as the foyer’s stairway trim. It could look really cool (all of the downstairs doors and some of the upstairs bathroom ones are already painted anyway), but we’re gonna let things come together more before making a final decision.

And lest you think the contractors are the only ones having all the fun, let’s get into what we’ve been up to. As you probably heard on Instagram, Facebook, and/or our podcast, we’ve been making some trips out there lately to lay tile. First we spent 19 solid hours across two days tiling four floors (three bathrooms and one attached mudroom) and we went again last week to tile all three shower pans. We still have three shower walls to tile and then we have to grout everything, but it definitely feels good to slowly chip away at one of our bigger line items (we’re saving over $12K by doing the tiling ourselves).

The shot above is the mudroom (nothing’s grouted and everything’s still VERY dusty) which extends into the downstairs full bath (seen below). We chose an affordable and durable slate-looking 12 x 24″ porcelain tile for the floor (this one from Lowe’s) and did the shower pan with a basketweave that we picked up at Floor & Decor (this one). The shower walls are just going to get an extra long white subway-ish tile that we also found at Lowe’s (this one).

We’re trying to keep the tile choices on the classic side, so they feel appropriate for an old house, but we’re still having some fun with them (like the blue asterisk/star/flower tiles we added in the master bathroom – more on that in a sec).

The upstairs hall bath is nearly identical in layout to the downstairs bath below it, but since it doesn’t get quite as much light, we wanted to avoid a super dark floor. This is another durable 12 x 24″ porcelain tile that almost has a concrete feeling. It’s a nice warm gray color, and once it’s grouted with a similarly toned grout it won’t have the high contrast lines that you see below. We kept the shower pan simple with white hex tile, since this is where our slightly “out there” patterned blue tile is going as an accent wall in the shower (you can see the inspiration pic of it in use that sold us on it here). That’s next on our install list and we’re so excited to see it go up!

We were in such a time crunch to install all of this tile that we didn’t really stop to take a ton of process photos, but we’ve documented plenty of tiling projects before (floors, backsplashes, fireplace surrounds, shower walls). The main difference this time is the orange Schlueter system our contractor recommended in lieu of cement board (he swears by it, so we were game to give it a try), and we also used the new-to-us LASH system for spacing and leveling.

One of the hardest parts of installing the large format tiles in our sunroom was avoiding “lippage,” aka when adjacent tiles aren’t level and you get a visible (or toe-stubbable) lip. Adjusting tiles to be level burned up a lot of time on that sunroom project, so I was attracted to the LASH system as a way to eliminate that worry. The white plastic clips act as spacers between the tiles, but also go under the edge of each tile. Once the tiles are placed on each side of the clip, you shove the yellow wedge through the hole in the clip and it pushes the tiles to the exact same height. I highly recommend spending the $20 on the special pliers (seen in the background below) which spare your thumbs when tightening the wedges.

Once everything has set and dried (we did this at least 24 hours later), you just have to kick the clips with your foot swiftly and they snap off below the tile, so you’d never know they were ever there. It was actually really, really easy.

The most time-consuming part of our tiling to-do list was the upstairs master bathroom, where we went classic with a bit of a twist by laying these retro black & white hex sheets, but replacing the black flowers (or asterisks or stars or snowflakes, depending on who you ask) with these blue tiles.

Here’s a peek at our “prep table” – which is really just a clawfoot tub with a piece of drywall over it where Sherry systematically peeled off the black tiles from each sheet, and broke up the blue sheets into individual tiles for a quicker installation process.

Like with any tiling project, first we like to “dry fit” our layout so we can be certain that we like the spacing of everything before it’s stuck down. It was during this test that we realized we liked this staggered/offset pattern more than having the flowers in a perfect grid.

It took us much longer than we expected, hence us tiling until the sun set (with no power turned on in the house yet). So we resorted to this battery powered work-light and our iphone’s flashlights to double-check our spacing one last time before calling it a night and picking up where we left off the next morning.

And on our trip back last week, we continued the pattern into the shower pan as well. Since this shower will have a glass wall on one side, we thought it made sense to continue the pattern we had already laid on the rest of the floor (rather than have a random square in one corner with something that looked different or didn’t line up).

It was a bit of a headache to line the pattern up, but it all worked out nicely in the end. Once this is all grouted it’ll look even more finished. And once we tile the shower of course. Details!

We’re hoping to head back sometime this week to start those shower walls (the master is getting the same long white subway-ish tile as downstairs) but at the pace things are going, who knows when we’ll complete them.

The last time we were there Sherry also squeezed in some “reconnaissance cleaning” of the original clawfoot tub. We didn’t have any cleaning supplies with us, but even with just some water and a sponge it revealed that everything seems to just be a surface stain – like some mineral deposits and lots of dust/dirt. Even that rust stain started to come off to reveal white cast iron goodness underneath it when she scrubbed.

So we’re hoping that with a bit more elbow grease, we’ll be able to reuse this baby without having to have it reglazed (that is a coating that’s pretty durable but can scrape off over time – so restoring the original basin without needing to paint/glaze over it would be awesome). And as for the outside of the tub, you can just prime and paint it. Like this or this. Sherry can barely wait for that step.

And while we were there, the HVAC guy came and installed the A/C units outside so we’re just days away from being able to cool the house. Oh how we wish we had them a few weeks ago when we were tiling on a 90-degree day! But it’s feeling pretty awesome to have one more giant house to-do almost completely checked off the list.

Another thing that we got to check off? RUNNING WATER! The town installed our long-lost water meter last week and our plumber is working on getting us hooked up to it this week. If you caught last week’s podcast, you heard the saga of how a few decades ago our house’s water meter was mysteriously placed many houses away (on another street even!), which meant that old leaky line ran under a bunch of neighbors’ yards, including a shed and several fences.

At first, we were told we’d have to dig up two roads and pay $15K to connect a new/safe line in front of our house, but then the city found an old diagram that indicated we might already have a verrrry old line out front – we just needed to find it. So after a whole lot of digging and metal-detecting and more digging, the town’s big yellow excavator found evidence of that very old line in front of our house, and they agreed to repair that line so we’d have a water meter in front of our house like everyone else on the street. Whew!

So yeah, definitely the good kind of mess. :)

If you want to catch up on all of the other beach h0use updates we’ve shared, here ya go:

Drywall is up, and it’s glorious!

Finding a vintage pink stove

Stuff Sherry bought (way too early)

The outside’s almost done & the inside’s getting good

That time our beach house photobombed HGTV

Walls up, walls down, and a new floor plan

How we picked the exterior color

Gathering beach house style inspiration

Beach house “before” video & floor planning

Holy seashells, we bought a beach house!

*This post contains affiliate links

The post Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! appeared first on Young House Love.

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! published first on http://ift.tt/2r6hzQy

[endlessarchite]

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile!

Compared to the last nine months of gradual progress on our beach house, it feels like things are moving at breakneck speed lately. So this post is one big smorgasbord of updates (but the good kind of smorgasbord, with exotic cheeses and chocolate fondue). Just like I consider this picture of the house’s foyer to be the good kind of messy.

I guess practically anything is a good kind of mess compared to the actual mess we had at the start of this project. Memmm-ries….

I know, I know, those two photos don’t look all that different, but what you can’t see is the repaired not-collapsing foundation, the new not-leaking roof, the fresh not-rotting siding, all of the updated plumbing and electrical, an HVAC system that we can’t wait to fire up, and fresh drywall without any mold or cracks. It’s the little things.

The most comprehensive way to get caught up on everything is actually this video that Sherry shot last week. It’ll get you up to speed in no time. Well, not no time, but if you’ve spent as many hours tiling as we have lately, ten minutes should feel like a blink. Note: If you’re reading in a feed reader, you might have to click through to the post to see the player. 

Something that has made a surprisingly big difference is the addition of trim and doors. Our contractor was actively installing them while we were there tiling, so it’s not complete in these pics, but you can already start to see how much more FINISHED the house is feeling with them.

We saved as much of the original trim as possible during demo, but a fair amount of it was too rotten to use, so we couldn’t come close to outfitting the entire house with it. So we made some strategic choices to get the most impact – meaning we did the entire foyer and all of the doorways downstairs (along with the stained glass windows leading up the stairs) with original trim. Everything else got a simple, chunky trim treatment similar to what we’ve seen in other restored houses around town.

When we shared a sneak peek of the trim going up on Instagram, we got some questions about why it wasn’t primed and painted before it was hung – the answer is that our contractor preferred to hang things first and then paint afterwards since they have to caulk it all after it’s hung anyway and they weren’t sure which reclaimed trim pieces would be useful and which ones wouldn’t work/fit, so they didn’t want to paint all the possible pieces and then caulk and paint again – they’d rather hang them and then caulk and paint only the “winners” that made it onto the walls.

Also, it’s actually really fortuitous that they didn’t prime and paint everything white before it went back up, because seeing some of these muted colors on the trim – specifically the soft gray color on the front stairs and the pale blue-gray color around the doorway in the above photo made us second guess our original instinct to paint all of the trim white. I know, you’re shocked because our middle names could be “Bright White Trim” but it’s true. You can hear more about what we’re thinking in Sherry’s video, but we’re toying with color matching those two tones and using them in some spots around the house.

We also saved all of the original doors so they could be rehung. Even though it saved us the cost of new doors, it ended up being more expensive overall because our contractor had to build new jambs for each one (whereas new doors come pre-hung and can be slid into place faster). But it was well worth the expense for all of the original character they add. Our favorite is this chippy blue fellow that separates the mudroom and the kitchen/dining room. It’ll remain open most of the time (except for maybe when laundry is running in the mudroom) and we plan to just clean it up and clear coat it so that we can retain the worn, aged look without worrying about old paint chipping off.

For reference, here it was in one of our “before” photos shortly after we bought the house. And it wasn’t until I uploaded this photo that I realized our HVAC guy was standing behind the glass. It’s from way back in the fall when we had him out to get a quote, ha!

Upstairs got all of the original wood doors that had hung up there before. This is the front bedroom, where we discovered that cool brick chimney behind the walls, which we also left exposed in the living room below it. Still gotta fix that hole, though.

As Sherry says in the video, we’re having mixed feelings about the wood doors. We were very excited to hang them as-is, but they’re darker and more scratched than we remembered. And not in a cool weathered/old way, more of in an Edward-Scissorhands-was-trying-to-open-each-door kind of way. You can’t really see that in the pics, but the video above gives you a better view.

And since all of these dark doors will pretty much exist in the same windowless hallway, we’re starting to worry that they’ll feel gloomier than we intended (this photo below gives you a sense of what it might feel like). In an ideal world where money and time are no object, we’d sand each door down by hand and clear seal them to get them closer in color to the heart pine floors – but we might be working on that until we’re 92, so we have also tossed around ideas like painting them the same soft gray color as the foyer’s stairway trim. It could look really cool (all of the downstairs doors and some of the upstairs bathroom ones are already painted anyway), but we’re gonna let things come together more before making a final decision.

And lest you think the contractors are the only ones having all the fun, let’s get into what we’ve been up to. As you probably heard on Instagram, Facebook, and/or our podcast, we’ve been making some trips out there lately to lay tile. First we spent 19 solid hours across two days tiling four floors (three bathrooms and one attached mudroom) and we went again last week to tile all three shower pans. We still have three shower walls to tile and then we have to grout everything, but it definitely feels good to slowly chip away at one of our bigger line items (we’re saving over $12K by doing the tiling ourselves).

The shot above is the mudroom (nothing’s grouted and everything’s still VERY dusty) which extends into the downstairs full bath (seen below). We chose an affordable and durable slate-looking 12 x 24″ porcelain tile for the floor (this one from Lowe’s) and did the shower pan with a basketweave that we picked up at Floor & Decor (this one). The shower walls are just going to get an extra long white subway-ish tile that we also found at Lowe’s (this one).

We’re trying to keep the tile choices on the classic side, so they feel appropriate for an old house, but we’re still having some fun with them (like the blue asterisk/star/flower tiles we added in the master bathroom – more on that in a sec).

The upstairs hall bath is nearly identical in layout to the downstairs bath below it, but since it doesn’t get quite as much light, we wanted to avoid a super dark floor. This is another durable 12 x 24″ porcelain tile that almost has a concrete feeling. It’s a nice warm gray color, and once it’s grouted with a similarly toned grout it won’t have the high contrast lines that you see below. We kept the shower pan simple with white hex tile, since this is where our slightly “out there” patterned blue tile is going as an accent wall in the shower (you can see the inspiration pic of it in use that sold us on it here). That’s next on our install list and we’re so excited to see it go up!

We were in such a time crunch to install all of this tile that we didn’t really stop to take a ton of process photos, but we’ve documented plenty of tiling projects before (floors, backsplashes, fireplace surrounds, shower walls). The main difference this time is the orange Schlueter system our contractor recommended in lieu of cement board (he swears by it, so we were game to give it a try), and we also used the new-to-us LASH system for spacing and leveling.

One of the hardest parts of installing the large format tiles in our sunroom was avoiding “lippage,” aka when adjacent tiles aren’t level and you get a visible (or toe-stubbable) lip. Adjusting tiles to be level burned up a lot of time on that sunroom project, so I was attracted to the LASH system as a way to eliminate that worry. The white plastic clips act as spacers between the tiles, but also go under the edge of each tile. Once the tiles are placed on each side of the clip, you shove the yellow wedge through the hole in the clip and it pushes the tiles to the exact same height. I highly recommend spending the $20 on the special pliers (seen in the background below) which spare your thumbs when tightening the wedges.

Once everything has set and dried (we did this at least 24 hours later), you just have to kick the clips with your foot swiftly and they snap off below the tile, so you’d never know they were ever there. It was actually really, really easy.

The most time-consuming part of our tiling to-do list was the upstairs master bathroom, where we went classic with a bit of a twist by laying these retro black & white hex sheets, but replacing the black flowers (or asterisks or stars or snowflakes, depending on who you ask) with these blue tiles.

Here’s a peek at our “prep table” – which is really just a clawfoot tub with a piece of drywall over it where Sherry systematically peeled off the black tiles from each sheet, and broke up the blue sheets into individual tiles for a quicker installation process.

Like with any tiling project, first we like to “dry fit” our layout so we can be certain that we like the spacing of everything before it’s stuck down. It was during this test that we realized we liked this staggered/offset pattern more than having the flowers in a perfect grid.

It took us much longer than we expected, hence us tiling until the sun set (with no power turned on in the house yet). So we resorted to this battery powered work-light and our iphone’s flashlights to double-check our spacing one last time before calling it a night and picking up where we left off the next morning.

And on our trip back last week, we continued the pattern into the shower pan as well. Since this shower will have a glass wall on one side, we thought it made sense to continue the pattern we had already laid on the rest of the floor (rather than have a random square in one corner with something that looked different or didn’t line up).

It was a bit of a headache to line the pattern up, but it all worked out nicely in the end. Once this is all grouted it’ll look even more finished. And once we tile the shower of course. Details!

We’re hoping to head back sometime this week to start those shower walls (the master is getting the same long white subway-ish tile as downstairs) but at the pace things are going, who knows when we’ll complete them.

The last time we were there Sherry also squeezed in some “reconnaissance cleaning” of the original clawfoot tub. We didn’t have any cleaning supplies with us, but even with just some water and a sponge it revealed that everything seems to just be a surface stain – like some mineral deposits and lots of dust/dirt. Even that rust stain started to come off to reveal white cast iron goodness underneath it when she scrubbed.

So we’re hoping that with a bit more elbow grease, we’ll be able to reuse this baby without having to have it reglazed (that is a coating that’s pretty durable but can scrape off over time – so restoring the original basin without needing to paint/glaze over it would be awesome). And as for the outside of the tub, you can just prime and paint it. Like this or this. Sherry can barely wait for that step.

And while we were there, the HVAC guy came and installed the A/C units outside so we’re just days away from being able to cool the house. Oh how we wish we had them a few weeks ago when we were tiling on a 90-degree day! But it’s feeling pretty awesome to have one more giant house to-do almost completely checked off the list.

Another thing that we got to check off? RUNNING WATER! The town installed our long-lost water meter last week and our plumber is working on getting us hooked up to it this week. If you caught last week’s podcast, you heard the saga of how a few decades ago our house’s water meter was mysteriously placed many houses away (on another street even!), which meant that old leaky line ran under a bunch of neighbors’ yards, including a shed and several fences.

At first, we were told we’d have to dig up two roads and pay $15K to connect a new/safe line in front of our house, but then the city found an old diagram that indicated we might already have a verrrry old line out front – we just needed to find it. So after a whole lot of digging and metal-detecting and more digging, the town’s big yellow excavator found evidence of that very old line in front of our house, and they agreed to repair that line so we’d have a water meter in front of our house like everyone else on the street. Whew!

So yeah, definitely the good kind of mess. :)

If you want to catch up on all of the other beach h0use updates we’ve shared, here ya go:

Drywall is up, and it’s glorious!

Finding a vintage pink stove

Stuff Sherry bought (way too early)

The outside’s almost done & the inside’s getting good

That time our beach house photobombed HGTV

Walls up, walls down, and a new floor plan

How we picked the exterior color

Gathering beach house style inspiration

Beach house “before” video & floor planning

Holy seashells, we bought a beach house!

*This post contains affiliate links

The post Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! appeared first on Young House Love.

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! published first on http://ift.tt/2qxZz2j

[truereviewpage]

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile!

Compared to the last nine months of gradual progress on our beach house, it feels like things are moving at breakneck speed lately. So this post is one big smorgasbord of updates (but the good kind of smorgasbord, with exotic cheeses and chocolate fondue). Just like I consider this picture of the house’s foyer to be the good kind of messy.

I guess practically anything is a good kind of mess compared to the actual mess we had at the start of this project. Memmm-ries….

I know, I know, those two photos don’t look all that different, but what you can’t see is the repaired not-collapsing foundation, the new not-leaking roof, the fresh not-rotting siding, all of the updated plumbing and electrical, an HVAC system that we can’t wait to fire up, and fresh drywall without any mold or cracks. It’s the little things.

The most comprehensive way to get caught up on everything is actually this video that Sherry shot last week. It’ll get you up to speed in no time. Well, not no time, but if you’ve spent as many hours tiling as we have lately, ten minutes should feel like a blink. Note: If you’re reading in a feed reader, you might have to click through to the post to see the player. 

Something that has made a surprisingly big difference is the addition of trim and doors. Our contractor was actively installing them while we were there tiling, so it’s not complete in these pics, but you can already start to see how much more FINISHED the house is feeling with them.

We saved as much of the original trim as possible during demo, but a fair amount of it was too rotten to use, so we couldn’t come close to outfitting the entire house with it. So we made some strategic choices to get the most impact – meaning we did the entire foyer and all of the doorways downstairs (along with the stained glass windows leading up the stairs) with original trim. Everything else got a simple, chunky trim treatment similar to what we’ve seen in other restored houses around town.

When we shared a sneak peek of the trim going up on Instagram, we got some questions about why it wasn’t primed and painted before it was hung – the answer is that our contractor preferred to hang things first and then paint afterwards since they have to caulk it all after it’s hung anyway and they weren’t sure which reclaimed trim pieces would be useful and which ones wouldn’t work/fit, so they didn’t want to paint all the possible pieces and then caulk and paint again – they’d rather hang them and then caulk and paint only the “winners” that made it onto the walls.

Also, it’s actually really fortuitous that they didn’t prime and paint everything white before it went back up, because seeing some of these muted colors on the trim – specifically the soft gray color on the front stairs and the pale blue-gray color around the doorway in the above photo made us second guess our original instinct to paint all of the trim white. I know, you’re shocked because our middle names could be “Bright White Trim” but it’s true. You can hear more about what we’re thinking in Sherry’s video, but we’re toying with color matching those two tones and using them in some spots around the house.

We also saved all of the original doors so they could be rehung. Even though it saved us the cost of new doors, it ended up being more expensive overall because our contractor had to build new jambs for each one (whereas new doors come pre-hung and can be slid into place faster). But it was well worth the expense for all of the original character they add. Our favorite is this chippy blue fellow that separates the mudroom and the kitchen/dining room. It’ll remain open most of the time (except for maybe when laundry is running in the mudroom) and we plan to just clean it up and clear coat it so that we can retain the worn, aged look without worrying about old paint chipping off.

For reference, here it was in one of our “before” photos shortly after we bought the house. And it wasn’t until I uploaded this photo that I realized our HVAC guy was standing behind the glass. It’s from way back in the fall when we had him out to get a quote, ha!

Upstairs got all of the original wood doors that had hung up there before. This is the front bedroom, where we discovered that cool brick chimney behind the walls, which we also left exposed in the living room below it. Still gotta fix that hole, though.

As Sherry says in the video, we’re having mixed feelings about the wood doors. We were very excited to hang them as-is, but they’re darker and more scratched than we remembered. And not in a cool weathered/old way, more of in an Edward-Scissorhands-was-trying-to-open-each-door kind of way. You can’t really see that in the pics, but the video above gives you a better view.

And since all of these dark doors will pretty much exist in the same windowless hallway, we’re starting to worry that they’ll feel gloomier than we intended (this photo below gives you a sense of what it might feel like). In an ideal world where money and time are no object, we’d sand each door down by hand and clear seal them to get them closer in color to the heart pine floors – but we might be working on that until we’re 92, so we have also tossed around ideas like painting them the same soft gray color as the foyer’s stairway trim. It could look really cool (all of the downstairs doors and some of the upstairs bathroom ones are already painted anyway), but we’re gonna let things come together more before making a final decision.

And lest you think the contractors are the only ones having all the fun, let’s get into what we’ve been up to. As you probably heard on Instagram, Facebook, and/or our podcast, we’ve been making some trips out there lately to lay tile. First we spent 19 solid hours across two days tiling four floors (three bathrooms and one attached mudroom) and we went again last week to tile all three shower pans. We still have three shower walls to tile and then we have to grout everything, but it definitely feels good to slowly chip away at one of our bigger line items (we’re saving over $12K by doing the tiling ourselves).

The shot above is the mudroom (nothing’s grouted and everything’s still VERY dusty) which extends into the downstairs full bath (seen below). We chose an affordable and durable slate-looking 12 x 24″ porcelain tile for the floor (this one from Lowe’s) and did the shower pan with a basketweave that we picked up at Floor & Decor (this one). The shower walls are just going to get an extra long white subway-ish tile that we also found at Lowe’s (this one).

We’re trying to keep the tile choices on the classic side, so they feel appropriate for an old house, but we’re still having some fun with them (like the blue asterisk/star/flower tiles we added in the master bathroom – more on that in a sec).

The upstairs hall bath is nearly identical in layout to the downstairs bath below it, but since it doesn’t get quite as much light, we wanted to avoid a super dark floor. This is another durable 12 x 24″ porcelain tile that almost has a concrete feeling. It’s a nice warm gray color, and once it’s grouted with a similarly toned grout it won’t have the high contrast lines that you see below. We kept the shower pan simple with white hex tile, since this is where our slightly “out there” patterned blue tile is going as an accent wall in the shower (you can see the inspiration pic of it in use that sold us on it here). That’s next on our install list and we’re so excited to see it go up!

We were in such a time crunch to install all of this tile that we didn’t really stop to take a ton of process photos, but we’ve documented plenty of tiling projects before (floors, backsplashes, fireplace surrounds, shower walls). The main difference this time is the orange Schlueter system our contractor recommended in lieu of cement board (he swears by it, so we were game to give it a try), and we also used the new-to-us LASH system for spacing and leveling.

One of the hardest parts of installing the large format tiles in our sunroom was avoiding “lippage,” aka when adjacent tiles aren’t level and you get a visible (or toe-stubbable) lip. Adjusting tiles to be level burned up a lot of time on that sunroom project, so I was attracted to the LASH system as a way to eliminate that worry. The white plastic clips act as spacers between the tiles, but also go under the edge of each tile. Once the tiles are placed on each side of the clip, you shove the yellow wedge through the hole in the clip and it pushes the tiles to the exact same height. I highly recommend spending the $20 on the special pliers (seen in the background below) which spare your thumbs when tightening the wedges.

Once everything has set and dried (we did this at least 24 hours later), you just have to kick the clips with your foot swiftly and they snap off below the tile, so you’d never know they were ever there. It was actually really, really easy.

The most time-consuming part of our tiling to-do list was the upstairs master bathroom, where we went classic with a bit of a twist by laying these retro black & white hex sheets, but replacing the black flowers (or asterisks or stars or snowflakes, depending on who you ask) with these blue tiles.

Here’s a peek at our “prep table” – which is really just a clawfoot tub with a piece of drywall over it where Sherry systematically peeled off the black tiles from each sheet, and broke up the blue sheets into individual tiles for a quicker installation process.

Like with any tiling project, first we like to “dry fit” our layout so we can be certain that we like the spacing of everything before it’s stuck down. It was during this test that we realized we liked this staggered/offset pattern more than having the flowers in a perfect grid.

It took us much longer than we expected, hence us tiling until the sun set (with no power turned on in the house yet). So we resorted to this battery powered work-light and our iphone’s flashlights to double-check our spacing one last time before calling it a night and picking up where we left off the next morning.

And on our trip back last week, we continued the pattern into the shower pan as well. Since this shower will have a glass wall on one side, we thought it made sense to continue the pattern we had already laid on the rest of the floor (rather than have a random square in one corner with something that looked different or didn’t line up).

It was a bit of a headache to line the pattern up, but it all worked out nicely in the end. Once this is all grouted it’ll look even more finished. And once we tile the shower of course. Details!

We’re hoping to head back sometime this week to start those shower walls (the master is getting the same long white subway-ish tile as downstairs) but at the pace things are going, who knows when we’ll complete them.

The last time we were there Sherry also squeezed in some “reconnaissance cleaning” of the original clawfoot tub. We didn’t have any cleaning supplies with us, but even with just some water and a sponge it revealed that everything seems to just be a surface stain – like some mineral deposits and lots of dust/dirt. Even that rust stain started to come off to reveal white cast iron goodness underneath it when she scrubbed.

So we’re hoping that with a bit more elbow grease, we’ll be able to reuse this baby without having to have it reglazed (that is a coating that’s pretty durable but can scrape off over time – so restoring the original basin without needing to paint/glaze over it would be awesome). And as for the outside of the tub, you can just prime and paint it. Like this or this. Sherry can barely wait for that step.

And while we were there, the HVAC guy came and installed the A/C units outside so we’re just days away from being able to cool the house. Oh how we wish we had them a few weeks ago when we were tiling on a 90-degree day! But it’s feeling pretty awesome to have one more giant house to-do almost completely checked off the list.

Another thing that we got to check off? RUNNING WATER! The town installed our long-lost water meter last week and our plumber is working on getting us hooked up to it this week. If you caught last week’s podcast, you heard the saga of how a few decades ago our house’s water meter was mysteriously placed many houses away (on another street even!), which meant that old leaky line ran under a bunch of neighbors’ yards, including a shed and several fences.

At first, we were told we’d have to dig up two roads and pay $15K to connect a new/safe line in front of our house, but then the city found an old diagram that indicated we might already have a verrrry old line out front – we just needed to find it. So after a whole lot of digging and metal-detecting and more digging, the town’s big yellow excavator found evidence of that very old line in front of our house, and they agreed to repair that line so we’d have a water meter in front of our house like everyone else on the street. Whew!

So yeah, definitely the good kind of mess. :)

If you want to catch up on all of the other beach h0use updates we’ve shared, here ya go:

Drywall is up, and it’s glorious!

Finding a vintage pink stove

Stuff Sherry bought (way too early)

The outside’s almost done & the inside’s getting good

That time our beach house photobombed HGTV

Walls up, walls down, and a new floor plan

How we picked the exterior color

Gathering beach house style inspiration

Beach house “before” video & floor planning

Holy seashells, we bought a beach house!

*This post contains affiliate links

The post Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! appeared first on Young House Love.

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! published first on http://ift.tt/2qCHnUt

[interiorstarweb]

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile!

Compared to the last nine months of gradual progress on our beach house, it feels like things are moving at breakneck speed lately. So this post is one big smorgasbord of updates (but the good kind of smorgasbord, with exotic cheeses and chocolate fondue). Just like I consider this picture of the house’s foyer to be the good kind of messy.

I guess practically anything is a good kind of mess compared to the actual mess we had at the start of this project. Memmm-ries….

I know, I know, those two photos don’t look all that different, but what you can’t see is the repaired not-collapsing foundation, the new not-leaking roof, the fresh not-rotting siding, all of the updated plumbing and electrical, an HVAC system that we can’t wait to fire up, and fresh drywall without any mold or cracks. It’s the little things.

The most comprehensive way to get caught up on everything is actually this video that Sherry shot last week. It’ll get you up to speed in no time. Well, not no time, but if you’ve spent as many hours tiling as we have lately, ten minutes should feel like a blink. Note: If you’re reading in a feed reader, you might have to click through to the post to see the player. 

Something that has made a surprisingly big difference is the addition of trim and doors. Our contractor was actively installing them while we were there tiling, so it’s not complete in these pics, but you can already start to see how much more FINISHED the house is feeling with them.

We saved as much of the original trim as possible during demo, but a fair amount of it was too rotten to use, so we couldn’t come close to outfitting the entire house with it. So we made some strategic choices to get the most impact – meaning we did the entire foyer and all of the doorways downstairs (along with the stained glass windows leading up the stairs) with original trim. Everything else got a simple, chunky trim treatment similar to what we’ve seen in other restored houses around town.

When we shared a sneak peek of the trim going up on Instagram, we got some questions about why it wasn’t primed and painted before it was hung – the answer is that our contractor preferred to hang things first and then paint afterwards since they have to caulk it all after it’s hung anyway and they weren’t sure which reclaimed trim pieces would be useful and which ones wouldn’t work/fit, so they didn’t want to paint all the possible pieces and then caulk and paint again – they’d rather hang them and then caulk and paint only the “winners” that made it onto the walls.

Also, it’s actually really fortuitous that they didn’t prime and paint everything white before it went back up, because seeing some of these muted colors on the trim – specifically the soft gray color on the front stairs and the pale blue-gray color around the doorway in the above photo made us second guess our original instinct to paint all of the trim white. I know, you’re shocked because our middle names could be “Bright White Trim” but it’s true. You can hear more about what we’re thinking in Sherry’s video, but we’re toying with color matching those two tones and using them in some spots around the house.

We also saved all of the original doors so they could be rehung. Even though it saved us the cost of new doors, it ended up being more expensive overall because our contractor had to build new jambs for each one (whereas new doors come pre-hung and can be slid into place faster). But it was well worth the expense for all of the original character they add. Our favorite is this chippy blue fellow that separates the mudroom and the kitchen/dining room. It’ll remain open most of the time (except for maybe when laundry is running in the mudroom) and we plan to just clean it up and clear coat it so that we can retain the worn, aged look without worrying about old paint chipping off.

For reference, here it was in one of our “before” photos shortly after we bought the house. And it wasn’t until I uploaded this photo that I realized our HVAC guy was standing behind the glass. It’s from way back in the fall when we had him out to get a quote, ha!

Upstairs got all of the original wood doors that had hung up there before. This is the front bedroom, where we discovered that cool brick chimney behind the walls, which we also left exposed in the living room below it. Still gotta fix that hole, though.

As Sherry says in the video, we’re having mixed feelings about the wood doors. We were very excited to hang them as-is, but they’re darker and more scratched than we remembered. And not in a cool weathered/old way, more of in an Edward-Scissorhands-was-trying-to-open-each-door kind of way. You can’t really see that in the pics, but the video above gives you a better view.

And since all of these dark doors will pretty much exist in the same windowless hallway, we’re starting to worry that they’ll feel gloomier than we intended (this photo below gives you a sense of what it might feel like). In an ideal world where money and time are no object, we’d sand each door down by hand and clear seal them to get them closer in color to the heart pine floors – but we might be working on that until we’re 92, so we have also tossed around ideas like painting them the same soft gray color as the foyer’s stairway trim. It could look really cool (all of the downstairs doors and some of the upstairs bathroom ones are already painted anyway), but we’re gonna let things come together more before making a final decision.

And lest you think the contractors are the only ones having all the fun, let’s get into what we’ve been up to. As you probably heard on Instagram, Facebook, and/or our podcast, we’ve been making some trips out there lately to lay tile. First we spent 19 solid hours across two days tiling four floors (three bathrooms and one attached mudroom) and we went again last week to tile all three shower pans. We still have three shower walls to tile and then we have to grout everything, but it definitely feels good to slowly chip away at one of our bigger line items (we’re saving over $12K by doing the tiling ourselves).

The shot above is the mudroom (nothing’s grouted and everything’s still VERY dusty) which extends into the downstairs full bath (seen below). We chose an affordable and durable slate-looking 12 x 24″ porcelain tile for the floor (this one from Lowe’s) and did the shower pan with a basketweave that we picked up at Floor & Decor (this one). The shower walls are just going to get an extra long white subway-ish tile that we also found at Lowe’s (this one).

We’re trying to keep the tile choices on the classic side, so they feel appropriate for an old house, but we’re still having some fun with them (like the blue asterisk/star/flower tiles we added in the master bathroom – more on that in a sec).

The upstairs hall bath is nearly identical in layout to the downstairs bath below it, but since it doesn’t get quite as much light, we wanted to avoid a super dark floor. This is another durable 12 x 24″ porcelain tile that almost has a concrete feeling. It’s a nice warm gray color, and once it’s grouted with a similarly toned grout it won’t have the high contrast lines that you see below. We kept the shower pan simple with white hex tile, since this is where our slightly “out there” patterned blue tile is going as an accent wall in the shower (you can see the inspiration pic of it in use that sold us on it here). That’s next on our install list and we’re so excited to see it go up!

We were in such a time crunch to install all of this tile that we didn’t really stop to take a ton of process photos, but we’ve documented plenty of tiling projects before (floors, backsplashes, fireplace surrounds, shower walls). The main difference this time is the orange Schlueter system our contractor recommended in lieu of cement board (he swears by it, so we were game to give it a try), and we also used the new-to-us LASH system for spacing and leveling.

One of the hardest parts of installing the large format tiles in our sunroom was avoiding “lippage,” aka when adjacent tiles aren’t level and you get a visible (or toe-stubbable) lip. Adjusting tiles to be level burned up a lot of time on that sunroom project, so I was attracted to the LASH system as a way to eliminate that worry. The white plastic clips act as spacers between the tiles, but also go under the edge of each tile. Once the tiles are placed on each side of the clip, you shove the yellow wedge through the hole in the clip and it pushes the tiles to the exact same height. I highly recommend spending the $20 on the special pliers (seen in the background below) which spare your thumbs when tightening the wedges.

Once everything has set and dried (we did this at least 24 hours later), you just have to kick the clips with your foot swiftly and they snap off below the tile, so you’d never know they were ever there. It was actually really, really easy.

The most time-consuming part of our tiling to-do list was the upstairs master bathroom, where we went classic with a bit of a twist by laying these retro black & white hex sheets, but replacing the black flowers (or asterisks or stars or snowflakes, depending on who you ask) with these blue tiles.

Here’s a peek at our “prep table” – which is really just a clawfoot tub with a piece of drywall over it where Sherry systematically peeled off the black tiles from each sheet, and broke up the blue sheets into individual tiles for a quicker installation process.

Like with any tiling project, first we like to “dry fit” our layout so we can be certain that we like the spacing of everything before it’s stuck down. It was during this test that we realized we liked this staggered/offset pattern more than having the flowers in a perfect grid.

It took us much longer than we expected, hence us tiling until the sun set (with no power turned on in the house yet). So we resorted to this battery powered work-light and our iphone’s flashlights to double-check our spacing one last time before calling it a night and picking up where we left off the next morning.

And on our trip back last week, we continued the pattern into the shower pan as well. Since this shower will have a glass wall on one side, we thought it made sense to continue the pattern we had already laid on the rest of the floor (rather than have a random square in one corner with something that looked different or didn’t line up).

It was a bit of a headache to line the pattern up, but it all worked out nicely in the end. Once this is all grouted it’ll look even more finished. And once we tile the shower of course. Details!

We’re hoping to head back sometime this week to start those shower walls (the master is getting the same long white subway-ish tile as downstairs) but at the pace things are going, who knows when we’ll complete them.

The last time we were there Sherry also squeezed in some “reconnaissance cleaning” of the original clawfoot tub. We didn’t have any cleaning supplies with us, but even with just some water and a sponge it revealed that everything seems to just be a surface stain – like some mineral deposits and lots of dust/dirt. Even that rust stain started to come off to reveal white cast iron goodness underneath it when she scrubbed.

So we’re hoping that with a bit more elbow grease, we’ll be able to reuse this baby without having to have it reglazed (that is a coating that’s pretty durable but can scrape off over time – so restoring the original basin without needing to paint/glaze over it would be awesome). And as for the outside of the tub, you can just prime and paint it. Like this or this. Sherry can barely wait for that step.

And while we were there, the HVAC guy came and installed the A/C units outside so we’re just days away from being able to cool the house. Oh how we wish we had them a few weeks ago when we were tiling on a 90-degree day! But it’s feeling pretty awesome to have one more giant house to-do almost completely checked off the list.

Another thing that we got to check off? RUNNING WATER! The town installed our long-lost water meter last week and our plumber is working on getting us hooked up to it this week. If you caught last week’s podcast, you heard the saga of how a few decades ago our house’s water meter was mysteriously placed many houses away (on another street even!), which meant that old leaky line ran under a bunch of neighbors’ yards, including a shed and several fences.

At first, we were told we’d have to dig up two roads and pay $15K to connect a new/safe line in front of our house, but then the city found an old diagram that indicated we might already have a verrrry old line out front – we just needed to find it. So after a whole lot of digging and metal-detecting and more digging, the town’s big yellow excavator found evidence of that very old line in front of our house, and they agreed to repair that line so we’d have a water meter in front of our house like everyone else on the street. Whew!

So yeah, definitely the good kind of mess. :)

If you want to catch up on all of the other beach h0use updates we’ve shared, here ya go:

Drywall is up, and it’s glorious!

Finding a vintage pink stove

Stuff Sherry bought (way too early)

The outside’s almost done & the inside’s getting good

That time our beach house photobombed HGTV

Walls up, walls down, and a new floor plan

How we picked the exterior color

Gathering beach house style inspiration

Beach house “before” video & floor planning

Holy seashells, we bought a beach house!

*This post contains affiliate links

The post Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! appeared first on Young House Love.

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! published first on http://ift.tt/2uiWrIt

[lukerhill]

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile!

Compared to the last nine months of gradual progress on our beach house, it feels like things are moving at breakneck speed lately. So this post is one big smorgasbord of updates (but the good kind of smorgasbord, with exotic cheeses and chocolate fondue). Just like I consider this picture of the house’s foyer to be the good kind of messy.

I guess practically anything is a good kind of mess compared to the actual mess we had at the start of this project. Memmm-ries….

I know, I know, those two photos don’t look all that different, but what you can’t see is the repaired not-collapsing foundation, the new not-leaking roof, the fresh not-rotting siding, all of the updated plumbing and electrical, an HVAC system that we can’t wait to fire up, and fresh drywall without any mold or cracks. It’s the little things.

The most comprehensive way to get caught up on everything is actually this video that Sherry shot last week. It’ll get you up to speed in no time. Well, not no time, but if you’ve spent as many hours tiling as we have lately, ten minutes should feel like a blink. Note: If you’re reading in a feed reader, you might have to click through to the post to see the player. 

Something that has made a surprisingly big difference is the addition of trim and doors. Our contractor was actively installing them while we were there tiling, so it’s not complete in these pics, but you can already start to see how much more FINISHED the house is feeling with them.

We saved as much of the original trim as possible during demo, but a fair amount of it was too rotten to use, so we couldn’t come close to outfitting the entire house with it. So we made some strategic choices to get the most impact – meaning we did the entire foyer and all of the doorways downstairs (along with the stained glass windows leading up the stairs) with original trim. Everything else got a simple, chunky trim treatment similar to what we’ve seen in other restored houses around town.

When we shared a sneak peek of the trim going up on Instagram, we got some questions about why it wasn’t primed and painted before it was hung – the answer is that our contractor preferred to hang things first and then paint afterwards since they have to caulk it all after it’s hung anyway and they weren’t sure which reclaimed trim pieces would be useful and which ones wouldn’t work/fit, so they didn’t want to paint all the possible pieces and then caulk and paint again – they’d rather hang them and then caulk and paint only the “winners” that made it onto the walls.

Also, it’s actually really fortuitous that they didn’t prime and paint everything white before it went back up, because seeing some of these muted colors on the trim – specifically the soft gray color on the front stairs and the pale blue-gray color around the doorway in the above photo made us second guess our original instinct to paint all of the trim white. I know, you’re shocked because our middle names could be “Bright White Trim” but it’s true. You can hear more about what we’re thinking in Sherry’s video, but we’re toying with color matching those two tones and using them in some spots around the house.

We also saved all of the original doors so they could be rehung. Even though it saved us the cost of new doors, it ended up being more expensive overall because our contractor had to build new jambs for each one (whereas new doors come pre-hung and can be slid into place faster). But it was well worth the expense for all of the original character they add. Our favorite is this chippy blue fellow that separates the mudroom and the kitchen/dining room. It’ll remain open most of the time (except for maybe when laundry is running in the mudroom) and we plan to just clean it up and clear coat it so that we can retain the worn, aged look without worrying about old paint chipping off.

For reference, here it was in one of our “before” photos shortly after we bought the house. And it wasn’t until I uploaded this photo that I realized our HVAC guy was standing behind the glass. It’s from way back in the fall when we had him out to get a quote, ha!

Upstairs got all of the original wood doors that had hung up there before. This is the front bedroom, where we discovered that cool brick chimney behind the walls, which we also left exposed in the living room below it. Still gotta fix that hole, though.

As Sherry says in the video, we’re having mixed feelings about the wood doors. We were very excited to hang them as-is, but they’re darker and more scratched than we remembered. And not in a cool weathered/old way, more of in an Edward-Scissorhands-was-trying-to-open-each-door kind of way. You can’t really see that in the pics, but the video above gives you a better view.

And since all of these dark doors will pretty much exist in the same windowless hallway, we’re starting to worry that they’ll feel gloomier than we intended (this photo below gives you a sense of what it might feel like). In an ideal world where money and time are no object, we’d sand each door down by hand and clear seal them to get them closer in color to the heart pine floors – but we might be working on that until we’re 92, so we have also tossed around ideas like painting them the same soft gray color as the foyer’s stairway trim. It could look really cool (all of the downstairs doors and some of the upstairs bathroom ones are already painted anyway), but we’re gonna let things come together more before making a final decision.

And lest you think the contractors are the only ones having all the fun, let’s get into what we’ve been up to. As you probably heard on Instagram, Facebook, and/or our podcast, we’ve been making some trips out there lately to lay tile. First we spent 19 solid hours across two days tiling four floors (three bathrooms and one attached mudroom) and we went again last week to tile all three shower pans. We still have three shower walls to tile and then we have to grout everything, but it definitely feels good to slowly chip away at one of our bigger line items (we’re saving over $12K by doing the tiling ourselves).

The shot above is the mudroom (nothing’s grouted and everything’s still VERY dusty) which extends into the downstairs full bath (seen below). We chose an affordable and durable slate-looking 12 x 24″ porcelain tile for the floor (this one from Lowe’s) and did the shower pan with a basketweave that we picked up at Floor & Decor (this one). The shower walls are just going to get an extra long white subway-ish tile that we also found at Lowe’s (this one).

We’re trying to keep the tile choices on the classic side, so they feel appropriate for an old house, but we’re still having some fun with them (like the blue asterisk/star/flower tiles we added in the master bathroom – more on that in a sec).

The upstairs hall bath is nearly identical in layout to the downstairs bath below it, but since it doesn’t get quite as much light, we wanted to avoid a super dark floor. This is another durable 12 x 24″ porcelain tile that almost has a concrete feeling. It’s a nice warm gray color, and once it’s grouted with a similarly toned grout it won’t have the high contrast lines that you see below. We kept the shower pan simple with white hex tile, since this is where our slightly “out there” patterned blue tile is going as an accent wall in the shower (you can see the inspiration pic of it in use that sold us on it here). That’s next on our install list and we’re so excited to see it go up!

We were in such a time crunch to install all of this tile that we didn’t really stop to take a ton of process photos, but we’ve documented plenty of tiling projects before (floors, backsplashes, fireplace surrounds, shower walls). The main difference this time is the orange Schlueter system our contractor recommended in lieu of cement board (he swears by it, so we were game to give it a try), and we also used the new-to-us LASH system for spacing and leveling.

One of the hardest parts of installing the large format tiles in our sunroom was avoiding “lippage,” aka when adjacent tiles aren’t level and you get a visible (or toe-stubbable) lip. Adjusting tiles to be level burned up a lot of time on that sunroom project, so I was attracted to the LASH system as a way to eliminate that worry. The white plastic clips act as spacers between the tiles, but also go under the edge of each tile. Once the tiles are placed on each side of the clip, you shove the yellow wedge through the hole in the clip and it pushes the tiles to the exact same height. I highly recommend spending the $20 on the special pliers (seen in the background below) which spare your thumbs when tightening the wedges.

Once everything has set and dried (we did this at least 24 hours later), you just have to kick the clips with your foot swiftly and they snap off below the tile, so you’d never know they were ever there. It was actually really, really easy.

The most time-consuming part of our tiling to-do list was the upstairs master bathroom, where we went classic with a bit of a twist by laying these retro black & white hex sheets, but replacing the black flowers (or asterisks or stars or snowflakes, depending on who you ask) with these blue tiles.

Here’s a peek at our “prep table” – which is really just a clawfoot tub with a piece of drywall over it where Sherry systematically peeled off the black tiles from each sheet, and broke up the blue sheets into individual tiles for a quicker installation process.

Like with any tiling project, first we like to “dry fit” our layout so we can be certain that we like the spacing of everything before it’s stuck down. It was during this test that we realized we liked this staggered/offset pattern more than having the flowers in a perfect grid.

It took us much longer than we expected, hence us tiling until the sun set (with no power turned on in the house yet). So we resorted to this battery powered work-light and our iphone’s flashlights to double-check our spacing one last time before calling it a night and picking up where we left off the next morning.

And on our trip back last week, we continued the pattern into the shower pan as well. Since this shower will have a glass wall on one side, we thought it made sense to continue the pattern we had already laid on the rest of the floor (rather than have a random square in one corner with something that looked different or didn’t line up).

It was a bit of a headache to line the pattern up, but it all worked out nicely in the end. Once this is all grouted it’ll look even more finished. And once we tile the shower of course. Details!

We’re hoping to head back sometime this week to start those shower walls (the master is getting the same long white subway-ish tile as downstairs) but at the pace things are going, who knows when we’ll complete them.

The last time we were there Sherry also squeezed in some “reconnaissance cleaning” of the original clawfoot tub. We didn’t have any cleaning supplies with us, but even with just some water and a sponge it revealed that everything seems to just be a surface stain – like some mineral deposits and lots of dust/dirt. Even that rust stain started to come off to reveal white cast iron goodness underneath it when she scrubbed.

So we’re hoping that with a bit more elbow grease, we’ll be able to reuse this baby without having to have it reglazed (that is a coating that’s pretty durable but can scrape off over time – so restoring the original basin without needing to paint/glaze over it would be awesome). And as for the outside of the tub, you can just prime and paint it. Like this or this. Sherry can barely wait for that step.

And while we were there, the HVAC guy came and installed the A/C units outside so we’re just days away from being able to cool the house. Oh how we wish we had them a few weeks ago when we were tiling on a 90-degree day! But it’s feeling pretty awesome to have one more giant house to-do almost completely checked off the list.

Another thing that we got to check off? RUNNING WATER! The town installed our long-lost water meter last week and our plumber is working on getting us hooked up to it this week. If you caught last week’s podcast, you heard the saga of how a few decades ago our house’s water meter was mysteriously placed many houses away (on another street even!), which meant that old leaky line ran under a bunch of neighbors’ yards, including a shed and several fences.

At first, we were told we’d have to dig up two roads and pay $15K to connect a new/safe line in front of our house, but then the city found an old diagram that indicated we might already have a verrrry old line out front – we just needed to find it. So after a whole lot of digging and metal-detecting and more digging, the town’s big yellow excavator found evidence of that very old line in front of our house, and they agreed to repair that line so we’d have a water meter in front of our house like everyone else on the street. Whew!

So yeah, definitely the good kind of mess. :)

If you want to catch up on all of the other beach h0use updates we’ve shared, here ya go:

Drywall is up, and it’s glorious!

Finding a vintage pink stove

Stuff Sherry bought (way too early)

The outside’s almost done & the inside’s getting good

That time our beach house photobombed HGTV

Walls up, walls down, and a new floor plan

How we picked the exterior color

Gathering beach house style inspiration

Beach house “before” video & floor planning

Holy seashells, we bought a beach house!

*This post contains affiliate links

The post Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! appeared first on Young House Love.

[additionallysad]

Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! http://ift.tt/2i5d2Pg

Compared to the last nine months of gradual progress on our beach house, it feels like things are moving at breakneck speed lately. So this post is one big smorgasbord of updates (but the good kind of smorgasbord, with exotic cheeses and chocolate fondue). Just like I consider this picture of the house’s foyer to be the good kind of messy.

I guess practically anything is a good kind of mess compared to the actual mess we had at the start of this project. Memmm-ries….

I know, I know, those two photos don’t look all that different, but what you can’t see is the repaired not-collapsing foundation, the new not-leaking roof, the fresh not-rotting siding, all of the updated plumbing and electrical, an HVAC system that we can’t wait to fire up, and fresh drywall without any mold or cracks. It’s the little things.

The most comprehensive way to get caught up on everything is actually this video that Sherry shot last week. It’ll get you up to speed in no time. Well, not no time, but if you’ve spent as many hours tiling as we have lately, ten minutes should feel like a blink. Note: If you’re reading in a feed reader, you might have to click through to the post to see the player. 

Something that has made a surprisingly big difference is the addition of trim and doors. Our contractor was actively installing them while we were there tiling, so it’s not complete in these pics, but you can already start to see how much more FINISHED the house is feeling with them.

We saved as much of the original trim as possible during demo, but a fair amount of it was too rotten to use, so we couldn’t come close to outfitting the entire house with it. So we made some strategic choices to get the most impact – meaning we did the entire foyer and all of the doorways downstairs (along with the stained glass windows leading up the stairs) with original trim. Everything else got a simple, chunky trim treatment similar to what we’ve seen in other restored houses around town.

When we shared a sneak peek of the trim going up on Instagram, we got some questions about why it wasn’t primed and painted before it was hung – the answer is that our contractor preferred to hang things first and then paint afterwards since they have to caulk it all after it’s hung anyway and they weren’t sure which reclaimed trim pieces would be useful and which ones wouldn’t work/fit, so they didn’t want to paint all the possible pieces and then caulk and paint again – they’d rather hang them and then caulk and paint only the “winners” that made it onto the walls.

Also, it’s actually really fortuitous that they didn’t prime and paint everything white before it went back up, because seeing some of these muted colors on the trim – specifically the soft gray color on the front stairs and the pale blue-gray color around the doorway in the above photo made us second guess our original instinct to paint all of the trim white. I know, you’re shocked because our middle names could be “Bright White Trim” but it’s true. You can hear more about what we’re thinking in Sherry’s video, but we’re toying with color matching those two tones and using them in some spots around the house.

We also saved all of the original doors so they could be rehung. Even though it saved us the cost of new doors, it ended up being more expensive overall because our contractor had to build new jambs for each one (whereas new doors come pre-hung and can be slid into place faster). But it was well worth the expense for all of the original character they add. Our favorite is this chippy blue fellow that separates the mudroom and the kitchen/dining room. It’ll remain open most of the time (except for maybe when laundry is running in the mudroom) and we plan to just clean it up and clear coat it so that we can retain the worn, aged look without worrying about old paint chipping off.

For reference, here it was in one of our “before” photos shortly after we bought the house. And it wasn’t until I uploaded this photo that I realized our HVAC guy was standing behind the glass. It’s from way back in the fall when we had him out to get a quote, ha!

Upstairs got all of the original wood doors that had hung up there before. This is the front bedroom, where we discovered that cool brick chimney behind the walls, which we also left exposed in the living room below it. Still gotta fix that hole, though.

As Sherry says in the video, we’re having mixed feelings about the wood doors. We were very excited to hang them as-is, but they’re darker and more scratched than we remembered. And not in a cool weathered/old way, more of in an Edward-Scissorhands-was-trying-to-open-each-door kind of way. You can’t really see that in the pics, but the video above gives you a better view.

And since all of these dark doors will pretty much exist in the same windowless hallway, we’re starting to worry that they’ll feel gloomier than we intended (this photo below gives you a sense of what it might feel like). In an ideal world where money and time are no object, we’d sand each door down by hand and clear seal them to get them closer in color to the heart pine floors – but we might be working on that until we’re 92, so we have also tossed around ideas like painting them the same soft gray color as the foyer’s stairway trim. It could look really cool (all of the downstairs doors and some of the upstairs bathroom ones are already painted anyway), but we’re gonna let things come together more before making a final decision.

And lest you think the contractors are the only ones having all the fun, let’s get into what we’ve been up to. As you probably heard on Instagram, Facebook, and/or our podcast, we’ve been making some trips out there lately to lay tile. First we spent 19 solid hours across two days tiling four floors (three bathrooms and one attached mudroom) and we went again last week to tile all three shower pans. We still have three shower walls to tile and then we have to grout everything, but it definitely feels good to slowly chip away at one of our bigger line items (we’re saving over $12K by doing the tiling ourselves).

The shot above is the mudroom (nothing’s grouted and everything’s still VERY dusty) which extends into the downstairs full bath (seen below). We chose an affordable and durable slate-looking 12 x 24″ porcelain tile for the floor (this one from Lowe’s) and did the shower pan with a basketweave that we picked up at Floor & Decor (this one). The shower walls are just going to get an extra long white subway-ish tile that we also found at Lowe’s (this one).

We’re trying to keep the tile choices on the classic side, so they feel appropriate for an old house, but we’re still having some fun with them (like the blue asterisk/star/flower tiles we added in the master bathroom – more on that in a sec).

The upstairs hall bath is nearly identical in layout to the downstairs bath below it, but since it doesn’t get quite as much light, we wanted to avoid a super dark floor. This is another durable 12 x 24″ porcelain tile that almost has a concrete feeling. It’s a nice warm gray color, and once it’s grouted with a similarly toned grout it won’t have the high contrast lines that you see below. We kept the shower pan simple with white hex tile, since this is where our slightly “out there” patterned blue tile is going as an accent wall in the shower (you can see the inspiration pic of it in use that sold us on it here). That’s next on our install list and we’re so excited to see it go up!

We were in such a time crunch to install all of this tile that we didn’t really stop to take a ton of process photos, but we’ve documented plenty of tiling projects before (floors, backsplashes, fireplace surrounds, shower walls). The main difference this time is the orange Schlueter system our contractor recommended in lieu of cement board (he swears by it, so we were game to give it a try), and we also used the new-to-us LASH system for spacing and leveling.

One of the hardest parts of installing the large format tiles in our sunroom was avoiding “lippage,” aka when adjacent tiles aren’t level and you get a visible (or toe-stubbable) lip. Adjusting tiles to be level burned up a lot of time on that sunroom project, so I was attracted to the LASH system as a way to eliminate that worry. The white plastic clips act as spacers between the tiles, but also go under the edge of each tile. Once the tiles are placed on each side of the clip, you shove the yellow wedge through the hole in the clip and it pushes the tiles to the exact same height. I highly recommend spending the $20 on the special pliers (seen in the background below) which spare your thumbs when tightening the wedges.

Once everything has set and dried (we did this at least 24 hours later), you just have to kick the clips with your foot swiftly and they snap off below the tile, so you’d never know they were ever there. It was actually really, really easy.

The most time-consuming part of our tiling to-do list was the upstairs master bathroom, where we went classic with a bit of a twist by laying these retro black & white hex sheets, but replacing the black flowers (or asterisks or stars or snowflakes, depending on who you ask) with these blue tiles.

Here’s a peek at our “prep table” – which is really just a clawfoot tub with a piece of drywall over it where Sherry systematically peeled off the black tiles from each sheet, and broke up the blue sheets into individual tiles for a quicker installation process.

Like with any tiling project, first we like to “dry fit” our layout so we can be certain that we like the spacing of everything before it’s stuck down. It was during this test that we realized we liked this staggered/offset pattern more than having the flowers in a perfect grid.

It took us much longer than we expected, hence us tiling until the sun set (with no power turned on in the house yet). So we resorted to this battery powered work-light and our iphone’s flashlights to double-check our spacing one last time before calling it a night and picking up where we left off the next morning.

And on our trip back last week, we continued the pattern into the shower pan as well. Since this shower will have a glass wall on one side, we thought it made sense to continue the pattern we had already laid on the rest of the floor (rather than have a random square in one corner with something that looked different or didn’t line up).

It was a bit of a headache to line the pattern up, but it all worked out nicely in the end. Once this is all grouted it’ll look even more finished. And once we tile the shower of course. Details!

We’re hoping to head back sometime this week to start those shower walls (the master is getting the same long white subway-ish tile as downstairs) but at the pace things are going, who knows when we’ll complete them.

The last time we were there Sherry also squeezed in some “reconnaissance cleaning” of the original clawfoot tub. We didn’t have any cleaning supplies with us, but even with just some water and a sponge it revealed that everything seems to just be a surface stain – like some mineral deposits and lots of dust/dirt. Even that rust stain started to come off to reveal white cast iron goodness underneath it when she scrubbed.

So we’re hoping that with a bit more elbow grease, we’ll be able to reuse this baby without having to have it reglazed (that is a coating that’s pretty durable but can scrape off over time – so restoring the original basin without needing to paint/glaze over it would be awesome). And as for the outside of the tub, you can just prime and paint it. Like this or this. Sherry can barely wait for that step.

And while we were there, the HVAC guy came and installed the A/C units outside so we’re just days away from being able to cool the house. Oh how we wish we had them a few weeks ago when we were tiling on a 90-degree day! But it’s feeling pretty awesome to have one more giant house to-do almost completely checked off the list.

Another thing that we got to check off? RUNNING WATER! The town installed our long-lost water meter last week and our plumber is working on getting us hooked up to it this week. If you caught last week’s podcast, you heard the saga of how a few decades ago our house’s water meter was mysteriously placed many houses away (on another street even!), which meant that old leaky line ran under a bunch of neighbors’ yards, including a shed and several fences.

At first, we were told we’d have to dig up two roads and pay $15K to connect a new/safe line in front of our house, but then the city found an old diagram that indicated we might already have a verrrry old line out front – we just needed to find it. So after a whole lot of digging and metal-detecting and more digging, the town’s big yellow excavator found evidence of that very old line in front of our house, and they agreed to repair that line so we’d have a water meter in front of our house like everyone else on the street. Whew!

So yeah, definitely the good kind of mess. :)

If you want to catch up on all of the other beach h0use updates we’ve shared, here ya go:

Drywall is up, and it’s glorious!

Finding a vintage pink stove

Stuff Sherry bought (way too early)

The outside’s almost done & the inside’s getting good

That time our beach house photobombed HGTV

Walls up, walls down, and a new floor plan

How we picked the exterior color

Gathering beach house style inspiration

Beach house “before” video & floor planning

Holy seashells, we bought a beach house!

*This post contains affiliate links

The post Beach House Progress: Original Trim, Doors, And Lots of New Tile! appeared first on Young House Love.