#Modern Partition For Living Room | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

romanoffsbish · 1 year

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I Love You / I Know

Mob Boss!R / Escort! Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Angst. Forbidden Love. Jealousy.

Smut:Daddy (R), Slut/Whore (N), Rough!!! Oral/Fingering(N), Double Sided Strap, Blood, Bondage, Choking, Degradation.

18+ | Minors DNI | Labeled/Please Don’t Report.

You asked Natasha to come to your place.

She said yes. You sent a driver.

A familiar pattern made for the dead of night.

Natasha got into the matte black SUV, with the rear windows so tinted no one would see her, and so that she couldn’t see out. With a raised partition just as dark, it was like being in a cage. Where you live was not her business.

She was safest that way.

——

When she entered the car all service was lost, and her belongings given over to the driver.

Natasha knew it was safe. Your men knew better than to slight the redheaded beauty.

She leisurely walked into your mansion that you lived in alone, well besides for Rocco, your free range soft brown cat. It was unique.

Mostly modern decor, mixed with rare old timed pieces to create an unsettling vibe. Natasha knew the layout like the back of her hand, and where to find you, but she stalled.

Letting anticipation simmer in her belly for what to expect when she walks beyond the red door. Into the space with red leather couches, with the king size bed in the center of the room besides a chest full of unique toys and gadgets.

Natasha’s thighs clench at the thought of what could be in store for her the closer she gets. There’s a faint metallic scent in the air, only being overpowered by the smell of ammonia.

It must have been a rough day. She’s excited.

Natasha follows the rules, she removed her clothes, folding them and leaving them on a chair near the room. She wasn’t wearing a bra, but she lastly removed her red silky thong, she deposited it into the drawer you made for that.

As soon as she walked into the room she’s slammed back into the door and kissed with a force that made her bite her tongue. The taste of copper caressed her tastebuds before your tongue slid over them. You moaned as you tasted her blood, it was inquisitively sweet.

After your tongue left her mouth you pulled away completely with her lower lip between your teeth. You ground them sideways and she yelped, a slow stream of red dripped down her chin and you moaned, satisfied by the taste and the mess you were making of her pretty face.

You released her lip, and gripped her by the throat. Natasha’s eyes rolled slightly as you cut her breath off in beats of three seconds. On and off. Just as soon as she caught her breath you took it. Then you held her for six, her vision spotting as you drag her over to the mattress.

You tossed her onto it, her body bounced as she gasped for air. Distracted by instinct as you hurriedly went through your chest. You’d already been stripped down to your boxers. Sports bra still on as well. You exchanged the soaked grey for a double sided strap. You slid the significantly smaller end into you, then you fastened the harness and returned to the bed.

Natasha peered up at you as she leaned on her elbows, dried drool mixed with blood holding strands of her hair captive to her face.

“You look so beautiful like this,” you husked, “My perfect little slut, a fuck toy to abuse.”

Natasha bit her lip, wincing at the reminder that you’d marred her. A slight gush of blood rolls down her chin, a rather bright crimson to marvel the darker splotches of a prior stream.

You stalked closer to the mattress, the weight of your strap resting on the end of it and her eyes grew wide as the light cascaded over it. There was an unfamiliar girth to it that both frightened and aroused her. Her mouth went dry as her pussy dripped with arousal.

“You like daddy’s new toy honey?” She gulped before nodding timidly. “I-It’s kinda big.”

You chuckled darkly, “Oh, it is, daddy’s going to stretch you out baby, ruin you for anyone else.” Natasha grimaced, you knew.

The sweet date she went on with a lifelong friend, Wanda. Of course you knew. She couldn’t see you, but you always saw her.

You knew it didn’t mean anything. Just a social obligation to keep up appearances. At the end of the day her heart only beat out of sync.

Love was something she never had much of growing up. Besides with Yelena and Tony. Her family. So now when she found it she clung to it; even if it wasn’t healthy—especially then…

Natasha raised her hands obediently, you tied them together behind her back then laid her down. She frowned as the rope dug into her wrists with the added pressure of her body, but she quickly changed her tune as you nudged the tip of your strap into her clit. She cried out.

You grinned like a devil, eyes locked in on your soon to be corrupted victim. “So reactive…” Natasha fisted the sheets when you lowered to your knees and pulled her closer to the edge by her calves. “Daddy needs a sweet treat first, then I’ll fuck your desperate, whorish pussy.”

The redhead groaned huskily at your promise.

Natasha’s thighs trembled beneath your lips as you moved up them. Biting and sucking on her plush skin, varying shades of red being left behind, darkest in places where teeth imprints could be found. Once you reached her cunt she was whimpering in need. Her entire body flinched when you gave her what she needed.

Your tongue lapped at her folds, nose nudging her clit in a way that had her choking on her breath. Russian curses you’d familiarized yourself with left the redheads parted lips.

Natasha imagined the cocky smirk she could feel pressed against her cunt, her core burned with a need you felt against your lips, heart racing as her hole fluttered around nothing.

After that you gave in, lips moving up to attend to her clit as two of your fingers slid into her molten heat. Natasha shivered and sighed.

You always felt so good inside of her. No one else would ever compare to you, there was a gruffness to you, paired with rare softness.

Like now, you only gave her a second to adjust before you pulled out, just to thrust back in. Setting up a brutal, uneven pace. She went from stuttering to moaning, overwhelmed by your fast pace and slow swirls on your clit.

Then your fingers slowed, she went to cry but as you pulled out they curled, her walls fluttered with appreciation as you pressed into her innermost sensitive spot. Soft lips wrapped around her clit at the same time as you plunged your fingers back in, and as you curled them again, even slower now, you sucked on her clit.

Natasha came hard, pussy sucking your fingers even deeper as her thighs stiffened around you to keep your head locked in place. You swiftly removed your fingers, her whimpers of protest ignored by you as you used this time while stuck in place to clean her up with your tongue.

Without the use of her hands she had to use her shoulders and core to shimmy away. You chuckled against her as she failed to budge. Tongue entering her and swirling around to ensure you’d gotten it all before pulling away.

“You’re pathetic,” you sneered, it was heatless. “You must know I’m far from done with you.”

You untied her wrists, bringing them up to your lips to kiss the raw skin, you swirled your tongue all around, and she hissed in relief. Directly contrasting your previous tone.

“Play with your tits before daddy fucks you.”

Natasha put on a show for you, hands slow as they trailed her fingers across her abdomen. They swept over the swell of her breasts, swirling around her nipples before she pinched them. Mouth falling agape with a dramatic flair as she moaned lowly, your cunt twinged. She continued on, switching up her touches.

Once you were satisfied you stopped her hands forcefully, leaning in you kissed her sloppily. She did her best to keep the pace, but the pain of her hands awkwardly pushed into her chest made it near impossible. You preferred it that way, gave you more control of the pace.

Natasha moaned when the head of your strap slid passed her slicked up entrance, leaving it with a squelching pop that made you shudder.

You pulled away affectedly, holding yourself up by your arms you stared at her while catching your breath. Her smile was too much, far too tender, holding onto a love as toxic as lead.

With strong hands you manhandled her onto her stomach, pushing her knees up and out so you could slam your cock into her. Natasha’s body froze up as you made it a third of the way in, two of your fingers swirled over her clit and she slackened wholly. You continue the pace and soon you were bottomed out. Both of you were panting now, you leaned your forehead against her back for a moment of calm.

The way the redhead looked at you told you what you already knew. Natasha loved you.

You loved her too. But it would never work.

You still felt compelled to hear it. Even if if hurt. The pain reminded you you were alive.

Reluctantly.

“Tell me how much you love me!” You pleaded, tone demanding. “More than anything daddy!”

You thrusted harder. “Say it!” Natasha pushed back into you with a satisfied sigh, “I love you.”

Her voice was timid, emotions reflected clearly.

You tweaked her nipples in retaliation, she choked on a moan. “You love daddy’s money.”

You knew it was deeper, Natasha’s silence was apparent. Even her moans had nearly muted. But you needed her to agree, to take some of the pressure off of your heart. You needed her love, but you also repelled it with precision.

“Admit it slut!” You stilled your hips, she whined in disapproval so you slapped her ass. “Drop the attitude, now!” Natasha breathed out of her nose angrily, but she followed it up with a timid whisper, “I love you for your money.”

“That’s what I thought,” you growled, picking the pace back up, but a tad more brutally. “Sweet girls like you could never love a monster like me, we’re designed to corrupt.”

Natasha’s mind was screaming that wasn’t true, but with your strap hitting her in the spot that makes her brain go fuzzy she couldn’t speak, she could hardly even breathe. Dirty moans were interrupted by a shallow gasp as you swirled a digit around her neglected clit.

Her thighs began to tremble, you fucked her into the mattress with thrusts meant to bruise. Natasha’s thighs burned, her skin numbing as your thrusts never dulled. Both of you were teetering off the edge together. Your grunts having picked up indicating that to her.

Natasha felt you stutter, she faintly heard as you bit back a moan. She closed her eyes and imagined it a few decibels higher. Her entire body warmed as the coil within her burst.

Just the thought of you releasing because of her was all she needed to cum. Your ability to have picked the pace back up in mere seconds helping push her through it and it didn’t stop.

You kept going, increasing your attention on her clit as you thrusted sloppily. Her wetness gushing onto the satin sheets beneath you. Natasha came again with a screech that she’d never released before. Her body convulsed, you continued to thrust slowly, edging yourself because when she whimpered you stopped.

You didn’t want to hurt her that badly.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” you did your best to reassure her. Your tone was permanently rough. It had to be if you were gonna survive.

Natasha found your weight atop of hers to be more grounding than your attempted comfort.

She appreciated the effort though.

Her breath began to even out, you were about to pull out but she wrapped her legs around you, loose enough for you to break free, but tight enough to hope you’d stay. You did.

She looked at you with glossy eyes, her hands cupping your cheek. You flinched, but settled into the hold anyways. Fighting your need to run for just this fleeting moment. Her lip trembled, as did her voice. “I love you Y/N.”

You smiled down at her, painfully so, your eyes flashed with a vulnerability before steeling. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as your eyes shut, you were closing off. “I know.”

Your warmth left hers swiftly. You were tender only in the way that you pulled the strap out with consideration to her wellbeing. You moved hastily, breaking her. Why couldn’t she have just one more tender moment with you?

You were dressed. Natasha stared at you from the edge of the bed, sheets haphazardly wrapped around her, but you could see the dark marks you’d left behind. Angry red lines trail down the side of her neck, and hips. They match the way she feels beneath the smile.

You see right through her cordial facade.

To the hurt, and to the doomed hope.

Loving you was pointless; a bittersweet curse.

You couldn’t quit her, so you exploit instead.

You handed her a single black rose, the only part of the routine that stays the same.

A tainted affection.

The wad of cash is similar too, but each time it becomes a harder burden to carry.

She felt used, her mind now fracturing.

You walked away put back together.

Natasha walked away knowing you knew.

You knew that she meant it. That she loves you.

She loved you with adoring eyes and soft lips.

You loved her with black and blue mementos.

Her love was warm; inviting and pure.

Your love was cold; demanding, and desolate.

She loved you —— You knew.

The Han Solo to her Princess Leia. But only ever tragic. The best stories always are.

——

2,348 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 💔

——

(Not a Star Wars fan myself, but please do enjoy the reference)

Picture from Pinterest

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg

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axelsagewrites · 1 year

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Hey dear! I saw that your requests are open and I would like to know if you could write an imagine/oneshot nsfw Modern Daemon x poc fem reader where they are the definition of power couple, inspired in "partition" by Beyoncé, please?

Daemon Targaryen*Partition

Pairing: modern!Daemon x f!reader

Summary: pure smut following the song and music video of Beyonces partition (Youtube video here)

Warnings: m!receiving oral, limo sex, slight exhibitionism, praise, p in v sex, horny Daemon being horny Daemon, slight daddy kink, 18+

Word count: 2103

Masterlist Here

Three years ago, if someone had said you would be fixing yourself up in the back of a limousine on your way to be the guest of honour for the biggest company in Westeros you would’ve thought they were insane. However, two years ago you met Daemon Targaryen and within a week of knowing you he became obsessed with you. Even now two years later, a rock on your finger, and a wedding less than a few months away he worships the ground you walk on.

You originally had started as a secretary for one of the smallest branches of the Targaryen and Cooperated offices when you met Daemon who had been sent to over see the branch as some kind of punishment by his brother. The punishment turned into Daemons greatest blessing. With your insider scoop of the previous managers fuck ups and secrets he was able to whip it into one of the most profitable branches within months. When he was told, he’d be getting sent to another branch in a town over he agreed on one condition; you be promoted to his personal secretary and come with him as he travelled the country flipping the branches.

Then last week he got a call. Daemon had demanded to be able to finally settle down in one location as your wedding date approached. That’s when Viserys gave him the news. He’d be the permanent overseer of the new Gold Cloaks division in Kingslanding, his hometown and your future home. This time though Daemon insisted you no longer would just be a secretary. In both business and pleasure, you were his partner.

Viserys had insisted on some kind of grand opening of the branch for the investors. Neither you nor Daemon particularly wanted to meet these old men in outdated suits. The few business events you had attended you could practically feel the resentment dripping off the men and the judgement of their wives.

“Ignore them,” Daemon would tell you, “They’re just jealous you’re better at their jobs when they’ve been sitting on their arses their whole career doing nothing,”

“And their wives?” you would question.

Daemon would just smirk, “They’re just jealous they don’t look like you,”

You figured after tonight they’d have to show you some respect since it was you that would be hiring, firing, and promoting at the highest level. You’d watched as they all smooched their way up to Viserys and Daemon, watching how Otto Hightower practically tripped over his feet to be by Viserys’ side. Now you’d get to watch them trip over their feet to talk to you. you were going to enjoy it and be hot doing it.

Figuring you still had to look semi business related you opted to stick tight black dress that hit just above your knee and a well-fitting blouse over top to keep just enough of your cleavage covered. Covered enough so that Viserys new wife wouldn’t throw a fit but not enough to stop Daemons eyes from constantly wandering over your skin.

“Do we really have to go?” he drawled, sat on the leather sofa in the living room.

You could feel his eyes glued to your ass as you finished putting on your jewellery. “I did not get ready for the past 45 minutes to stay home doing nothing,”

“You could do me,” Daemon smirk was evident in his voice. You rolled your eyes as you finished applying your red lipstick in the mirror. In the time it had taken you to finish applying it Daemon had sneaked up behind you, grabbing you by your hips, “Stunning,” he praised, kissing your neck.

You leaned into his touch if only for a few moments to entertain him. You could feel him getting hard as he left soft kisses to your skin. God did he love the feeling of your skin. His hands had snuck around your waist to keep you firmly in place, “We’re gonna be late,” you laughed as he trailed the kisses up to your jaw.

After much insisting on your part, you finally got him into the car Viserys had sent to pick you up. You smiled politely at the driver through the rear-view mirror, but Daemon hadn’t even glanced at the man as his eyes gazed over your body.

You couldn’t stop the slight smirk when you noticed he was still hard just from looking at you. “I don’t think I can make it through this whole night,” Daemon whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, “when all I can think of is fucking you in our new office,”

It was hard to remain calm as his hand gripped your leg just above your knee before slowly trailing up, pushing the fabric of your skirt up along with it. “What do we have here?” Daemon asked with a grin when he noticed what he thought were tights was actually a garter and stockings. “It’s almost as if you wanted to fuck me this whole time,”

“Driver,” you said, struggling to keep your eyes off of Daemon. The man glanced back at you in the rear-view as you cleared your throat, “Roll up the partition please,”

A low chuckle left Daemons throat as the man nodded and pressed the button to raise the partition. “Don’t need him seeing you on your knees,” Daemon whispered in your ear.

As soon as the screen was up Daemons hands pushed your dress the rest of the way up, his hand running over your pussy only covered by the thong you had planned to surprise him with later, “Look at you all dressed up for me,” he said, his hot breath fanning your neck. “Wonder what’s under here,” he said and without warning his hands grasped the flimsy fabric.

You gasped when the buttons of your blouse flew across the car but had no time to complain as Daemon began to paw at your chest, his hands squeezing your tits as his mouth moved neck, leaving sloppy kisses to your skin.

Daemon groaned when you pushed his hands away, but his protests hushed when you moved to your knees in front of him. “So pretty for me,” he praised as one handheld your jaw, the other working on his belt.

As soon as he had unbuckled it your hands moved to unbutton his tailored suit trousers and pull down the zip. Daemon moved his boxers and finally his dick sprung free. It was painfully hard, red at the tip and dripping precum. “You gonna suck me off in a limo?” Daemon asked as he guided your head forward, practically moaning at how your eyes looked up at him, “You gonna be good for daddy?”

His words sent tingles in your body. You nodded gently, awestruck at the man in front of you in his perfectly fitted suit. His jaw somehow looked even sharper from down here. You maintained eye contact as you leaned forward and licked up his length, swirling your tongue lightly around his tip.

He groaned, his head falling back at the feeling of you leaving kitten licks around his length, focusing on the tip which begged for attention. “You feel so good,” he praised, his hand moving to the back of your head, “Can you take all of me baby?” Daemon asked as he guided your lips to his cock which twitched as you took it into your mouth, “So good,” Daemon moaned as you took him into your mouth.

You could feel your lipstick smudging but it didn’t matter anymore as you bobbed your head up and down his length, listening to how he groaned and moaned with each movement. His hand stayed on the back of your head, gripping your hair as your tongue swirled around his cock. Daemon couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting up at first, too obsessed with the feeling of your mouth. Your eyes began to water as his thrusts sunk him deeper into your mouth, hitting your throat but the way he moaned made it worth it.

His moans were ragged as your head bobbed up and down. You sneaked your hand up to cup his balls, squeezing them lightly in your hand making him groan loudly, his cock twitching in your mouth. It didn’t take long before you feel the salty sweet taste coating your mouth as his cum spilled down your throat.

When you pulled away you noticed the red marks smudged around his cock and you wondered how your lipstick looked now. Or worse your mascara. Daemon looked down at you through hooded eyes still filled with lust, “Driver,” he called, eyes still on you and your swollen lips, “How long till we get there?”

“15 minutes Sir,” he called back, his voice strained.

Daemon smirked, “Turn up the music,” he called back. With that the limo was flooded with the sound of Beyonce and an understanding.

Within seconds you were climbing into Daemons lap, your lips crashing onto his without caring about the lipstick that stained his skin. His hands settled on your ass, pushing your skirt up so he could grip your soft flesh. You gasped into the kiss as his hand spanked your ass twice firmly. You wondered how many it would take for him to leave a handprint.

Part of you wanted to test the theory but you only had so much time. you could feel him already hard again as you grinded your hips into his. “I want you,” you said, breaking the kiss as Daemon continued to grope your ass and hips. “Take me,” you said before returning your lips to his in a messy kiss.

Daemon groaned into the kiss. One of his hands moved from your ass to between your body as he pushed your panties to the side. He took his cock into his hand, running it over your wet folds before lining his tip up with your entrance. You took your que and slowly began to sink down onto his cock, moaning at the way it perfectly stretched you out.

His hand stayed between your bodies as he moved his fingers to rub circles into your clit. Even the kiss could no longer muffle your moans as you began to ride him. Daemon broke the kiss but only to pull your dress down to expose your tits. His lips soon found your nipples, taking turns gently sucking and nibbling on your hardened buds. His spare hand returned to slap your ass and squeeze its soft flesh.

You could feel the knot tightening in your stomach as you bounced on his dick, the excitement of the new location only making your orgasm approach quicker. Your moans were mixed with the music, but you couldn’t help but wonder if the driver could still here you. surely, he knew what was happening.

It didn’t matter though as Daemon began to thrust up from bellow, meeting each of your thrusts with his own making him hit deeper spots in you. the knot tightened and tightened until you felt your orgasm rip through your body, washing over you like a tidal wave. It didn’t stop daemon though who held you in place by your hips as he continued his messy thrusts until he felt himself twitch again and let himself go finally.

You didn’t bother to move off of him as you felt his cum fill you. times like this you were grateful for your birth control. You were both gasping, sweaty, and foreheads pressed against the other. “How long now?” you finally managed to yell to the driver.

“If I take the long way five minutes,” he responded, lowering the music.

“Quick get ready,” you said as you managed to clamber off of Daemon, grabbing some napkins they had left beside the complimentary bottle of red wine. You handed some to daemon, “You’ve got lipstick on you,”

“Maybe I should leave it, make a statements. Reds definitely my colour darling,” he said as you rolled your eyes and tried to make yourself look semi presentable.

There was still a light redness around Daemons lips as you pulled up. Your eye makeup was smudged to hell but semi saveable. When you saw lights flashed you looked at Daemon wide eyed and he gave a sorry smile, “God I hate photographers,” you said as you pulled your dress up to try cover more of your cleavage.

“Looks much better without the blouse darling,” Daemon grinned as he straightened himself out, “C’mon let’s go,” he said as the car pulled to a stop, “We have a company to run,”

Taglist @clairacassidy

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libraryofgage · 1 year

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Too excited to not share after finishing, so here's the full (unedited) Cheerleader Steve chapter of the Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins fic lmao

Featuring: Cheerleader Steve, Hellfire Club, Eddie's tragic split ends almost (almost) eliminating Steve's attraction to him, and Steve’s cheer routine living rent free in Eddie's head forever after (not that he knows it)

Anyway, here we go:

The theater room is mostly empty except for three more teens. A table is set up in the middle of the stage area, a DM partition at the head of the table and a grid-map spread across the middle. Little figurines are placed across the grid, each of them seeming to be in specific positions related to monster-like figurines. Steve can see two teens sitting at the table clearly, but the third one is behind the DM partition, slouching in their chair so only one hand with rings decorating the fingers can be seen dangling from the arm.

Flannel Teen leads Steve into the room just in time to hear the tail-end of someone saying, “-ill not convinced they won’t show up.”

“Eddie,” Flannel Teen says, cutting off whatever would have been said in response, “got a visitor for you.”

The one behind the DM partition---Eddie, Steve realizes---straightens up in his chair, a pair of brown eyes peeking over the top of the partition and landing on Steve. The eyes widen slightly, something like amusement and wariness dancing in them as Eddie stands and walks around the table and…

And Steve is fucked. He didn’t even know the whole metal-grunge-80s thing would do it for him, but here is with his heart skipping a beat. He wants to trace the rings on Eddie’s fingers, wants to study all the patches and pins on his vest, wants to grab him by the belt loop and wallet chain and pull him in close and kiss until they’re breathless.

The thing is, Steve doesn’t believe in things like love at first sight. But he does believe in things like his imagination and following his gut and knowing when the two are working together. Right now, his imagination and gut are doing a fucking tango with how they’re offering him visions of a semi-awkward dates, sweet kisses, incredibly satisfying nights, and little stolen moments together that make both of them smile for years to come.

He just knows in his gut that it could be so good, they could be good, but he still isn’t entirely convinced that Eddie isn’t a murderer. He’s, like, 98% sure, but that 2% is what keeps him in check, stops him from flashing a charming grin at Eddie. He’d really prefer to not be like those true crime girlies who want to fuck Dahmer, thanks.

“So,” Eddie says, effectively pulling Steve from his thoughts as he walks up to him, “what made you bring a stranger into our lair?” Despite looking straight at Steve, he knows the question is aimed at Flannel Teen.

“Some of the swim team cornered me in the hall,” Flannel Teen says, shrugging nonchalantly when Eddie glances over at him with a concerned, questioning look. “He…talked them into leaving and said he needed to talk to you.”

Steve thinks that’s an understated way of saying he implied they were all gay and then used high school social hierarchy and expectations to make them leave, but sure. Eddie hums with appreciation, apparently thinking Steve is worth a few seconds of his time, then, and asks him, “What’s your name, big boy, and what do you need from yours truly?”

“My name is Steve. It’s nice to meet you,” Steve says, smiling politely and ignoring the urge to ask how a theater room qualifies as a lair as he sticks his hand out.

The amusement in Eddie’s eyes instantly vanishes, replaced with indignation as he ignores Steve’s hands. His lips curl up in a sneer, circling Steve like he’s sizing up an opponent. “So, you’re the Steve I’ve heard so much about. How bold to show your face after making my campaign unplayable,” he says, coming to a stop in front of Steve.

This close, Steve is almost distracted by the absolute travesty that is Eddie’s hair. He wants to reach out, cradle the poor locks with their split-ends, and ask Eddie why he’d neglect something with such potential. He looks like he uses the 80s equivalent of a fucking 3-in-1 shampoo, and Steve almost loses all his attraction to Eddie in that moment.

Almost.

Steve drops his hand, keeping his polite smile even as he raises an eyebrow. “Unplayable? You could just reschedule it, dude,” he points out.

Eddie’s nostrils flare slightly, a scoff coming from him in the next second as he leans back, waving his hand dismissively. “Of course you don’t understand the sanctity of DnD. Let me guess,” he says, spinning on his heel and raking his eyes up and down Steve. “A jock, right? Balls in laundry baskets or tidy-whitey swimming? I’m surprised you aren’t with the rest of the brainwashed conformists at the game right now.”

Oh, Steve has been handed such a golden opportunity on a silver-platter here. He could blow Eddie’s assumptions right out of the water. But what would be funnier? Blowing the expectations out of the water now, or playing into them for now and confusing the hell out of him later? Well, it’s easier for Steve if he’s just honest and himself right now. Plus, he can't wait to see Eddie's face when he truly realizes he was wrong.

“I did play basketball,” Steve admits, ignoring the absolute elation on Eddie’s face that’s probably from being right and getting to rub it in, “and I did swim. But I’ve also played DnD a few times. I’ve been told my DM was shit, though, so I probably wasn’t playing right. Oh, I was a substitute cheerleader my senior year of high school and joined the chess club, too. I’m not at the game because Dustin asked me to talk to you. And because I just didn’t want to go.”

Eddie’s elation morphs into confusion, then curiosity, and then disbelief. “Somehow, I’m doubting the cheerleader and chess club part of that, Stevie,” he says, drawing out the nickname into something that’s supposed to be mean and goad him into reinforcing Eddie’s initial assumptions.

“What, want me to prove it to you?”

“Sure, Stevie, prove you were a cheerleader.”

Steve sighs, nods, and takes a few steps back. “You know, I fail to see what any of this has to do with Dustin and his friends asking you to postpone the campaign,” he says, shrugging off his jacket. He glances around, notices Flannel Teen standing next to Eddie, and holds it up questioningly.

Flannel Teen starts to reach out for the jacket only for Eddie to snatch it up himself. “Careful, Gareth, we don’t want you getting infected,” he jokes, flashing a grin that makes Gareth snort and tells Steve this is some kind of inside joke. He looks back at Steve and adds, “This has everything to do with it, big boy. I gotta make sure you aren’t a liar leading poor little Henderson astray.”

There’s genuine concern in his tone, so Steve bites back his sarcastic response and nods. He thinks for a moment, looking at the space around him and counting the syllables in Hellfire. After cycling through the few cheers he still remembers well enough to recite, he finally chooses one that doesn’t require too much movement.

Steve shakes out his arms, rolls his shoulders, and takes a deep breath.

“Hold on!” he shouts, plastering a bright smile onto his face and holding his hand out in front of him. He then spreads his legs to be shoulder-width apart and uses his right index finger to tap his left wrist in an exaggerated manner as he says, “Wait a minute!”

He’s barely started, and the entirety of Hellfire Club is staring at him like he’s an alien. The looks only get more confused as his grin becomes a little more genuine and he shouts, “Hellfire puts some boom into it!” As he says the club’s name, he pushes his arms out to the side, and he jumps as high as he can when he gets to “boom,” touching his toes mid-air.

Steve manages to land steadily, subtly letting out a breath of relief as he places his hands on his hips. He keeps up with the momentum, bringing his fists in front of his face. “Ramp it up!” He punches above his head with his left fist. “Knock it out!” He punches the air in front of him. Gareth slides his foot back slightly when Steve punches forward, and he’d feel bad if not for the clear fascination in the guy’s eyes.

“Hellfire Club always stays on top!” Steve brings his arms up and flexes them, a little proud of his muscles when he sees the way Eddie stares at his arms. “Hellfire Club never drops!” Steve, however, does drop. He drops into a split (and holy fuck, he’s grateful he wore the looser jeans today) with jazz hands thrown up in the air.

Silence reigns supreme in the wake of his cheer, and Steve can’t help his intense satisfaction at seeing the way Eddie’s grip on his jacket tightens, his knuckles surely turning white under the rings. Steve drops his arms, carefully moves out of his split, and stands up. “So, good enough for you?” he asks.

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds before looking away and roughly throwing his jacket back. “Yeah,” he says, his tone significantly less combative than before, “I guess we can fucking reschedule the campaign.”

Steve smartly refrains from asking what his cheer routine has anything to do with rescheduling the campaign when he was originally doing it to prove he wasn’t, in fact, leading Dustin astray. If this works in his favor, then he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, he shrugs on his jacket and says, “Maybe everyone could tell me their names now.”

And so Steve learns their names are Gareth, Jeff, Asher, and---of course---Eddie.

#my writing #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins #cheerleader steve

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lyncotek · 1 month

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Transforming Spaces: The Creative Potential of Printable Glass Over lamination

In the realm of interior design, the quest for innovative materials and techniques to transform spaces into captivating environments is ever-evolving. One such innovation that has garnered significant attention is printable glass over lamination. This article delves into the creative potential of this technique, exploring its advantages, applications, and impact on modern interior design.

Introduction to Printable Glass Over lamination: Printable glass over lamination applies a transparent film to glass surfaces, enabling custom designs or graphics. This process offers endless possibilities for designers, architects, and homeowners to personalize and enhance spaces effortlessly.

The Advantages of Printable Glass Over lamination: Visual Appeal: The primary advantage of printable glass over lamination lies in its ability to enhance visual appeal through the incorporation of high-resolution images, patterns, or branding elements onto glass surfaces, enabling designers to create captivating visual effects that evoke emotions and capture attention.

Durability and Protection: Printable glass over lamination not only enhances aesthetics but also provides durability and protection to underlying surfaces The laminated film acts as a shield, safeguarding against scratches, UV damage, and other forms of wear and tear, ensuring that the designs remain vibrant and intact for years to come.

Versatility in Design: Furthermore, printable glass over lamination offers versatility in design, with possibilities ranging from intricate patterns to bold graphics. Whether in residential, commercial, or hospitality settings, designers can unleash creativity to elevate ordinary spaces into extraordinary works of art.

Applications in Interior Design: Residential Spaces: In homes, printable glass over lamination elevates living room, kitchen, bathroom, and other space ambiances. From decorative partitions to custom backsplashes, homeowners can infuse personality and style into every corner of their homes.

Commercial Spaces: In offices, retail stores, and restaurants, printable glass over lamination offers unique branding opportunities. Businesses can create immersive experiences through signage, feature walls, or privacy screens, leaving lasting impressions on customers.

Hospitality Sector: In the hospitality sector, printable glass over lamination can be employed to create memorable guest experiences. Hotels and resorts can stand out with striking lobby installations and themed room dividers, cultivating luxury and sophistication.

How Printable Glass Over lamination Works:

“Printable glass overlamination involves two main steps: printing the desired design onto a laminating film using advanced techniques like UV or digital printing, followed by carefully applying the film to the glass surface with heat and pressure for a seamless, clear bond.”

Environmental Benefits: Moreover, in addition to its aesthetic and functional advantages, printable glass overlamination also boasts environmental benefits. The utilization of eco-friendly materials and processes, along with the recyclability of glass, renders it a sustainable choice for conscious consumers and businesses alike.

Cost-effectiveness Compared to Traditional Methods: Despite the advanced technology and creative potential, printable glass over lamination still emerges as a cost-effective alternative compared to traditional methods such as etching or sandblasting. Moreover, by eliminating the necessity for expensive custom glass panels, designers can achieve remarkable results without exceeding their budget.”

Case Studies and Examples: Numerous case studies and examples showcase the transformative power of printable glass over lamination in real-world settings. From corporate headquarters to boutique hotels, these success stories highlight the versatility and impact of this innovative technique.

Challenges and Limitations: Despite its many benefits, printable glass over lamination is not without its challenges and limitations. Factors such as substrate compatibility, surface preparation, and installation expertise can impact the quality and longevity of the final result, requiring careful consideration and attention to detail.

Future Outlook: Looking ahead, the future of printable glass over lamination appears promising. With ongoing research and development efforts aimed at enhancing durability, sustainability, and ease of use, this innovative technique is poised to revolutionize the field of interior design and reshape the way we think about space.

Conclusion In conclusion, printable glass over lamination offers a compelling solution for transforming spaces with creativity and versatility. From enhancing visual appeal to providing durability and protection, this innovative technique unlocks endless possibilities for designers and homeowners alike, paving the way for a new era of interior design innovation.

FAQs: Is printable glass over lamination suitable for outdoor applications? While printable glass overl amination is primarily used for indoor applications, specialized outdoor-grade films and adhesives are available for exterior use.

Can printable glass over lamination be used on curved or irregular surfaces? Yes, printable glass over lamination can be applied to curved or irregular surfaces, provided that proper preparation and installation techniques are employed.

How long does printable glass over lamination last? With proper care and maintenance, printable glass over lamination can last for many years, maintaining its visual appeal and functionality over time.

Is printable glass over lamination suitable for high-traffic areas? Yes, printable glass over lamination is highly durable and suitable for high-traffic areas such as lobbies, corridors, and retail spaces.

Can existing glass surfaces be retrofitted with printable glass over lamination? Yes, existing glass surfaces can be retrofitted with printable glass over lamination, providing a cost-effective solution for refreshing and revitalizing outdated or worn-out spaces.

#printable glass overlamination #interior design #glass customization #decorative glass #custom glass #glass graphics #glass printing #glass lamination #glass films #interior design trends #home decor #glass art

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newsarticle4u · 3 months

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Lionel Messi House in Miami and Barcelona: Cost, Inside Photos and Net Worth

Lionel Messi and his wife, Antonella Roccuzzo, acquired a lavish mansion in Miami after Lionel joined Inter Miami’s professional team in July 2023. The couple invested approximately 50 million USD (around Rs 413 crore) in this stunning property. Situated on a uniquely shaped island, the estate ensures complete privacy for the family. Known for its exclusive location, Lionel Messi’s Miami residence is celebrated as a masterpiece of contemporary architecture. Designed by renowned designer Lori Morris, the modern mansion has garnered attention, even being featured in Florida Design magazine.

source: Miami Herald

Lionel Messi, who shares three sons with Antonela Roccuzzo, an Argentinian social media influencer and model, recently became the proud owner of a sprawling 10,500-square-foot estate. This impressive residence features 8 bedrooms, 9.5 bathrooms, a three-car garage, and a luxurious pool.

source: Miami herald

Represented by Samuel and Donna Simpkin of Compass Florida, Messi purchased the home nestled in a quiet cul-de-sac within the exclusive Bay Colony community. Notably, this area saw a record-setting purchase in 2021 by Patrick Bet-David, an author and social media influencer.

The ultra-modern mansion, occupying less than half an acre, boasts two boat docks, a spa, a fitness room, and an expansive 1,600-square-foot primary bedroom suite. Annual property taxes for the estate are estimated to be around $83,400, reflecting its substantial value and amenities.

source: Miami herald

Suggested Articles:

Taylor Swift : Million-Dollar Mansion Collection Houses :

Inside Rohit Sharma house: Photos, Networth & more

Prabhas House: Location, Networth, Luxury,Life and More

#lionel messi #celebrity homes #football

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modernbarndo · 5 months

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Modern Barndo Designs

Barndominiums, or "Barndos" as they are affectionately known, represent a unique blend of rustic charm and modern efficiency. These structures, which originally served agricultural purposes, have been transformed into versatile residential and commercial spaces. This transformation reflects a broader trend in architecture and design that values adaptive reuse of buildings, sustainability, and open, flexible living spaces. In this article, we'll explore the latest trends in barndominium designs, focusing on their aesthetic appeal, functionality, and customization options.

Barndominium Designs

Modern barndominium designs have evolved significantly from their humble, utilitarian origins. Today's Barndos combine the architectural elements of traditional barns—such as large wooden beams and metal sidings—with contemporary touches like glass facades and sleek finishes. The typical aesthetic is a striking blend of old and new, where industrial meets rustic, creating a visually appealing and highly functional space.

These designs often incorporate large, open floor plans, high ceilings, and abundant natural light. Large sliding doors and expansive windows are common features, blurring the lines between indoor and outdoor living. The flexibility of the structure allows homeowners to integrate eco-friendly technologies such as solar panels, rainwater harvesting systems, and energy-efficient windows, making Barndos a popular choice among environmentally conscious buyers.

Understanding Barndominiums

A barndominium is essentially a steel or wood frame that mimics the appearance of a barn but functions as a home, workshop, garage, or office. This versatility is one of the key attractions of barndominiums. They are typically quicker to construct than traditional homes due to their prefabricated elements, and they often cost less due to the simplicity of their design and materials.

The interior of a barndominium can be partitioned according to the owner’s needs, offering a customizable layout that can include bedrooms, bathrooms, a kitchen, and large communal spaces. The shell of a barndominium provides a basic structure, but the interior can be finished with a variety of materials to suit any style—from modern minimalist to cozy and traditional.

Interior Design

The interior design of a barndominium is where creativity can really shine. The vast, open spaces provide a blank canvas for homeowners to experiment with design elements. Common interior styles include industrial chic, characterized by exposed beams, ductwork, and a monochromatic color palette, and country rustic, which features warm woods, soft colors, and traditional patterns.

Functional zones such as kitchen, dining, and living areas are often in a single open space, promoting social interaction and family time. Furniture and decor are usually chosen to enhance the spaciousness of the interiors, with statement pieces like large chandeliers or oversized furniture adding character and focal points to the rooms.

Barndominium Floor Plans

Barndominium floor plans are praised for their efficiency and adaptability. Most designs emphasize open-concept layouts, which not only facilitate easier movement and accessibility within the home but also make it easier to heat and cool the space efficiently. These plans can be customized to include any number of bedrooms and bathrooms, along with special features like lofts, offices, or workshops.

For those looking to build a barndominium, there are countless floor plan templates available that can be adapted to personal needs. Some may feature a mezzanine for additional living or storage space, while others might include wrap-around porches or large patios, extending the living space outdoors.

Customizing Your Barndominium

The true appeal of a barndominium lies in its potential for customization. Whether it's a fully-equipped modern kitchen with the latest appliances or a luxurious bathroom with a freestanding tub and heated floors, the options are virtually limitless. Homeowners can choose every element of the construction, from the foundation and framing to the finishes and fixtures.

Energy efficiency can also be a major focus during the customization process. Many choose to integrate sustainable materials and systems into their design, such as bamboo flooring, LED lighting, high-efficiency HVAC systems, and low-VOC paints.

For more details, visit https://modernbarndodesigns.com/

Contact Modern Barndo Designs Address: 1117 N. 77 Sunshine Strip STE 3, Harlingen Tx, 78550 Phone: +1 (956) 527-5319 Email: [email protected] Working Hours: Monday to Saturday 9 AM to 5 PM

Visit: https://www.instagram.com/modernbarndodesigns/ https://twitter.com/modernbarndo https://www.youtube.com/@ModernBarndoDesigns https://www.linkedin.com/in/modern-barndo-designs-b95932304/ https://www.pinterest.com/modernbarndodesigns/ https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61558476726057

#barndominiums #home builders

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vladimirkrull · 2 years

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Vladimir krull - Expected Popular Living Room Trends 2023

According to Vladimir Krull Interior trends 2023 are way beyond just decorating your house. Living room trends 2023 are tailored for those people’s imaginations that can create something special out of nothing. Meanwhile, the practicality and functionality are the main components of living room design ideas 2023.Let’s get into the specifics of living room 2023 style options.

Modern Living Room Style:

Modernity is all about simplicity and neutral shades. Bright living room design ideas 2023 compliment this style perfectly. Minimalism is well fit into modernity. Natural origin items of decoration, which include wood, flowers, textiles create an atmosphere of comfort and home. Living room trends 2023 muffle all the shades of bright palette with the calm and soft pastel features. When choosing to work with modern style, you should definitely keep in mind the fact that this one needs light and a lot of it. Windows are wide and tall. With great lighting system, those give a multi-level brightness to the room.

Techno Living Room Style:

At first sight, techno is a very complex interior style. Usually, interior design trends 2023 full of too many details are perceived as confusing and too much. Techno is filled with creative, fascinating living room design ideas 2023. Decorations made of glass, metal and plastic make the interior come together as a bright representative of living room trends 2023.Futuristic lamps and folding furniture is exactly what you can very often see as part of techno living room 2023.

Minimalism Living Room Style:

Minimalism is way more complex than you can imagine. One may think that minimalism presumes fewer decorations and fewer items in the room. Therefore, it is easy to execute. However, it is not that simple. Functional features and living room decor 2023 come together in an indescribable harmony. The colors in this style are usually contrasting and vivid. However, it does not in any way exclude the use of pastel shades. Elaborate pieces of furniture blend into the glossy background of creative living room trends 2023. Expressive angles are a big part of minimalism living room design ideas 2023.

Loft Living Room Style:

When we say loft, we imagine a room with no walls and partitions. A room that has high ceilings and enormous windows. Rough brick walls are the business card of loft living room trends 2023. Wooden panels and metal furniture frames accent the whole mood of loft living room decor 2023 perfectly. The style almost has a sense of rudeness to it. Glass and metal furniture go together excellent. It seems like they complement each other in ways you could have never imagined possible.

Hi-tech Living Room Style:

Hi-tech is different from all the above-mentioned styles. The reason for that is that everything we have talked about in this article has elements of the early ages. Nowadays modern or loft or even Scandinavian styles are just the developed versions of the past trends. Hi-tech living room trends 2023 have a sort of shine to them. Solid scopes and neutral color shades are the finished product of hi-tech living room 2023.Since there is a total absence of personality and mood in this interior, it is compensated with relatively expensive materials and living room decor 2023 features.

I hope you like the post and for more interior design post you can visit here on my personal blog - Vladimir krull.

#Living Room Trends 2023 #Vladimir Krull

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another-blog-about-miis · 6 months

Note

*Ethan just had a face of “This won’t go well” while Evelyn was explaining the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth to Henry.*

Evelyn: “The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth was basically Poland before Napoleon, and it had lands in modern day Poland, Lithuania, Ukraine, Belarus, Latvia, and even parts of Russia. It was destroyed after three partitions between Austria, Russia, and Prussia - which would later become Germany.”

Henry: Uhhhhh okay?

(Sam walks in the living room)

Sam: Hey dad I invited Kyle over, I hope you don't mind....

Henry: What Sammy! You're suppose to ask me first!

#wii deleted you #wdy #wii deleted you sam #wdy sam #wii deleted you henry #wii deleted you kyle

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sam-glade · 1 year

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Happy WBW! What kind of houses exist in your world? Mansions? Cottages? Single family? Duplexes? Apartments? Castles? Space ships?

Hi Nopal, Happy WBW!

I'll answer for both DoD and The Fulcrum. This will get long.

Avia

In The Fulcrum, we have three cultures described so far:

The holy city of Lornai is located in seven ancient ziggurats that rise from the waters of a shallow bay. While they were initially made for creatures twice the size of avians, they'd been since split up into smaller rooms with wooden partitions. The lower the caste, the tighter the living quarters, and so ... starts off having just enough room to spend the night and store a handful of possessions, but it's just a tight hollow, not a place where she'd spend her free time. In comparison, a Priest's apartment is quite spacious, with a large nest of cushions and with a sand bath set up in the corner. Still, eating is done in communal areas, and nobody is expected to spend free time in their sleeping quarters, unless they're sick.

The avians living in the Sunswept Plains centre their lives around giant beetles. Their homes will have a brick or clay, circular foundation, and a conical roof made of beetle elytra. The elytra are amber in colour and a little translucent, and are often engraved and sections are thinned to make windows and patterns that light up with the sun.

The treefolk of the Wandering Woods live in the crowns of the giant trees, and shape their homes by weaving wines and branches, that will then grow into the desired shape. Similarly, vine bridges will connect the trees. They never cut into the trees.

Sunblessed Realm

I'll go through what we see on page in Days of Dusk, which is a more or less representative sample (except for city houses):

Cottages are anywhere from 1 to 4-5 rooms. They are often built around a large tiled stove (example picture) that keeps the house warm in winter. They vary between regions - can be wooden, can be brick, often plastered white. One element that's common to all of them though, is the memory shrine - a little shelf in a far corner or in the private room, decorated with a doily and dry flowers, where the mementos of the deceased family members are stored.

Especially in the second book, the characters consider the Army barracks to be their home, so I'm going to include those - uniform red-brick buildings, fairly modern by the setting's standards, with good plumbing and heating. Enlisted Swords will have small single rooms, with a bed, a trunk, a small desk and a chair, with shared washrooms. In comparison, senior officers would have larger apartment arranged in separate blocks around communal gardens, with enough space for a spouse and to entertain guest. NB, they'll also have an orderly to keep their living quarters tidy.

The manors of the minor nobility are honestly not huge - single-storey, 3-4 bedrooms, a dining room, a drawing room, a couple more smaller rooms/studies. The decorations depend on the region and on the family's preferences. These may include hunting trophies, woven rugs, paintings... but the House of the Sixth Tree was notorious for mounting firearms and engineering schematics on the walls, in lieu of artworks.

And of course these range all the way to the princes' greathouses, with dozens of rooms, a platoon of staff, collections of artworks and antiques, etc.

I'm going to also link the info dump on architecture and on folk arts, which include home decorations.

In The Truth Teller, the plot is contained within a city, and while the flats and the houses in the suburbs aren't that different from the real world, the appliances that might be surprising to see are radios (but no TVs) and stasis arrays (the works of crystallurgists) instead of fridges.

Also, this isn't a common housing situation, but Knacked tend to occupy single room apartments, often the least desirable ones, like directly under the roof. Lady Night is rumoured to offer hostel-style lodging and cheap long-term housing to Knacked folks, by remodelling large housing blocks to have single rooms, with communal kitchens and shared washrooms. But that's just the rumour😉

#I haven't got to the space age yet #but now I wonder what it would look like given the metaphysics #wbw #ask and i shall answer #sunblessed realm #the truth teller #days of dusk #the fulcrum

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wpip-raham · 10 months

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Some screenies of the house so far. Definitely a WIP but I'm pretty happy with it so far.

I was trying to lean really heavily into the desert atmosphere, since there aren't like cacti or succulent plants for outside I used a variety of palms. I actually really like the outside, it's just a shady little area to watch the sunrise in the mornings. Complete with bird bath and striking dummy (the necessities).

Inside is meant to be very modern/industrial styled. I'd like to add more onto the walls, but I'm really happy so far. I think the cool-tone of the concrete and flooring is a nice contrast to the warm brick/brass. Inside has a kitchen with a bar-counter that leads into the living area. The space is divided using white and wood slat partitions. Not pictured behind that area is his bedroom (I'm trying to get the floating thind down for this space, but in the meantime...)

Downstairs leads to a bath/recovery area. I imagine after fights, Pip likes a good soak for his injuries/muscles. I'm really happy with how dark and moody this area is. Complete with kimono stands (I've always loved the Doman aesthetic on Pip), and elixirs coz if you know you know.

From there, we enter into his dojo/training room. I'd like to add more to this, but its hard to channel "fight room" without swords and such, which Pip doesn't use. I would give a testicle to have an indoor striking dummy. Mannequins are wearing some of my favorite but no longer in use monk sets.

Anyways. Hope you guys like it! It's pretty simple comparitvely, I haven't got all the housing hacks down. But I'm happy with it and it really feels like a space Pip would have.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ff14 #ffxiv housing

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almalekcarpentry · 11 months

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Media Wall Designs For Living Room & Partition Design Ideas. Designing a living room media wall with a partition can be a great way to create a functional and visually appealing space.

Here are some steps and ideas to help you plan and design your living room media wall with a partition:

Determine the Purpose:

First, decide what you want to achieve with this space. Do you need a dedicated area for your TV and media equipment? Are you looking to create a partition to define separate areas within the living room, like a home office or a dining area? Understanding your goals will guide your design.

Space Planning:

Measure your living room to understand the available space. Create a floor plan to determine the ideal location for your media wall and partition.

Select the Media Wall Design:

Built-in Shelving:

Built-in shelving units can provide storage for your media equipment, books, and decorative items. They can be customized to fit the style of your room.

Floating Wall Units:

Floating TV stands and cabinets can give a sleek and modern look. They can be wall-mounted or placed on the floor. Feature Wall: Create an accent wall for your TV by using materials like stone, wood, or wallpaper.

Half-Wall Partition:

A half-wall partition can provide separation without completely blocking the view. It's great for defining spaces while maintaining a sense of openness.

Material and Color Choices:

Consider the materials and colors for your media wall and partition. Match them with the overall style and color scheme of your living room. Lighting can also play a significant role. Consider integrated LED lighting for your media wall to highlight your TV and decor.

Functionality and Storage:

Think about the functionality you want to incorporate. For a media wall, you'll need cable management and storage for media equipment. If the partition serves multiple purposes, ensure it has storage or workspace elements for the intended function.

Furniture Placement:

Arrange your furniture to complement the media wall and partition. Consider the viewing angles and seating arrangements.

Execution and Finishing:

Once the design is finalized, begin the construction or installation process. Ensure that all the elements are securely in place and the finishing is done with care. Remember that the key to a successful living room media wall and partition design is functionality, aesthetics, and how well it complements your lifestyle and the existing decor of your living room.

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#mediawall #almalekcarpentry #almalekdesign #livingroom #walldecor #walldecorideas #tvwalldesign #rotatingtvstand #modernlivingroom #arabicmajlis #arabianmajlisdesign #woodenpartition #tvcabinet #mediawalldesign #partition

#home decor #interior design #arabicmajlis #mediawalldesign #almalekcarpentry #almalekdesign #arabianmajlisdesign #kitchen design #homeinteriors #arabicmajlisfurniture #tvcabinet #woodenpartition #mediawall #modernlivingroom #rotatingtvstand #walldecorideas

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sirowsky · 2 years

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I posted 890 times in 2022

252 posts created (28%)

638 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@deadhumourist

@tintinn16

@myfavpedrothings

@toomanystoriessolittletime

@harriedandharassed

I tagged 779 of my posts in 2022

Only 12% of my posts had no tags

#pedro pascal characters - 246 posts

#pedro pascal fanfiction - 216 posts

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#pero tovar fanfiction - 147 posts

#pero tovar x fem!reader - 117 posts

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#the lost island fic - 92 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#23 when i got my first car. it was a pos ford that my dad owned before me and almost never started for him. always did for me.

My Top Posts in 2022:

A Little Menace 2

That didn't take me very long. Thank you guys for all the love for part 1, it was massively inspiring :)

Rating: Mature Warnings: ornithophobia (fear of birds), cursing, yearning, more improper thoughts, modern!din, din djarin x female reader, no use of y/n, no description of reader. Human boy Grogu. Word Count: 2518 Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 1 Link to Part 3 Link to Part 4 Link to Part 5

–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–

Your doorbell rings at almost exactly 5pm, and you have to stop yourself from running to the hall with excitement. Even though you’ve changed outfits five times and gone over every inch of it before settling on this one, you still check your appearance one last time in the hallway mirror, before opening the door.

“Hi, guys!” you call out a little too loudly, your excitement spilling into the two short words and quickly overflowing. But you’ve been waiting all day and now they’re finally here, Grogu’s response being a reserved but polite smile, while Din is grinning almost as wide as you, making that pleasant warmth return to your stomach.

“Hey. Good to see you again.” he responds softly, instantly making your knees weaken.

“Likewise. Please, come in.” you offer, stepping aside to let them pass before closing the door behind them.

They’re not wearing any shoes since it wasn’t exactly a long walk over, so you invite them into the living room without pause and then immediately set to work. Partly because you don’t want to give the kid enough time to start doubting whether he’ll be able to do this, and partly to distract yourself from the fact that his father smells intoxicating. Had he trimmed his patchy little scruff of beard since yesterday? And who the fuck had told him that it was okay to wear a white Henley over those arms and chest?

You wonder if it’s deliberate. If he knows exactly how that shirt accentuates his form and is being passively flirty. The way his jeans hug his ass and thighs makes you think yes, definitely deliberate. Not that you ogled him while he made his way into the living room, or anything. (Yeah, right…)

“Okay, Grogu, listen to me. I know you’re worried, but the first thing I want you to know, is that I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise. Do you believe me?” you ask, putting a hand on his shoulder, and he meets your eyes.

He looks nervous, but seems to want to trust you, and after a few beats, he nods. You take his hand and gently tug him along towards the balcony, stopping by the open door and kneeling next to him. The feeder sits five feet above the ground, so its fully visible above the metal lower third of the glass walls that enclose the balcony, and the smaller birds are in the middle of their evening feeding routine. Another half-hour and they’ll all be gone for the day.

However, the metal partition does hide the larger birds, hopping around on the ground, so the kid shouldn’t have to endure his worst fears on this first attempt to help him overcome his fear of them. You don’t say anything at first, you just watch him closely, gaging his reactions and trying to learn just how frightened he is, how slow you’ll need to take this and where his hard limits are.

“If you get really scared, just tell me and we’ll close the door, okay?” you say, and he nods slowly, keeping his eyes on the little finches, tits, thrushes, sparrows and robins, darting back and forth from the feeder.

“See that little yellow one? That’s a yellowhammer. It actually lives about half a mile away at the edge of a big field, but because it hasn’t been a great year for grass-harvests, it’s been struggling to find enough food to feed its family. So, it comes here about three times a week to top up on quality grains.” you explain, and he follows the little bird with his eyes.

You keep going like that for a few minutes, pointing out the different species and their characteristics until he seems perfectly at ease. Then you crawl on your hands and knees past the doorway and out onto the balcony, whispering for him to do the same, and he drops down and makes a show of being discreet and silent. You crawl right up to the sliding door that leads out there, and he bravely follows, trusting that you won’t open it, so you take him in your arms and whisper in his ear.

“They can’t see us through the glass, but just in case, move slowly and only peer over the edge.”

Your conspiring tone makes him giggle, despite his nervousness, and he mirrors your movements as you slowly raise your head above the metal edge, just enough that you can see over it. And when one of the birds turns its head towards you, you gasp theatrically.

“Do you think it sees me?”

He snickers and drops his head down below the edge again.

“No, no it’s gone back to eating. It didn’t see me. Phew.” you exhale, dropping down next to him with a smile. “Do you think that’s enough for today, tough guy?”

He nods, but still with a big grin on his face and you point towards the door, mouthing ‘go’ at him and following him when he crawls back into the apartment, where Din has taken a seat on the sofa where he could see the whole thing. He’s smiling too, breaking into a laugh as his son gets up and jumps into his lap, clearly pleased with himself for getting so close to the birds.

“Great job, kid! Was it scary?” he asks, while you get up and close the balcony door to help the boy feel safe.

Grogu nods and hugs his dad, who chuckles and looks at you with sparkling eyes, making your knees wobbly again, so you sit down on your coffee table in front of the sofa, to keep from falling over. Christ, he’s even more beautiful today somehow. How in the hell are you gonna be able to do this every day without jumping his bones at some point?

“You did really good, Grogu. I’m proud of you.” you say softly, and the boy lets go of his father’s neck and turns towards you with a proud grin, and even though he doesn’t say a word, you know what he’s anticipating. And you see no reason to keep him waiting. “So, how about we break open that box of LEGO now?”

His eyes go wide and he all but leaps out of Din’s lap and runs across the floor, over to your work desk where the big cardboard box is sitting underneath it.

“Hey, wait for me you rascal!” you call after him, earning you a fresh bout of giggles as you get up and chase him.

The construction is too big for the desk, so you bring it back to the sofa and the wide expanse and sturdy nature of the oak coffee table, where you let him do the honours of breaking into the box. You wouldn’t have thought that a kid so young would be this good at something this advanced, and you watch in amazement as he slowly and methodically follows the instructions, while you and Din mostly just support him by helping him find pieces and interpreting some of the more difficult instructions.

“How old is he?” you ask his father, while Grogu’s focused on a hunt for a tiny black piece that he needs to find before he can move on.

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133 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

Don't Die

Here comes the last of the prompts I've gotten for this celebration, and we're wrapping up with a heartbreaker! I got this ask by an anonymous sender, where the prompt was "You can't die. Please don't die." with Din x Reader, so naturally, my head went to angsty-land...

Now, as this concludes the 400 Challenge, I just wanna say thank you to everyone that sent me prompts and helped me to mark this occasion! I love all of you <3 And I'll always accept asks, requests and prompts, if I feel comfortable with the subject, so please don't hesitate to ask.

Rating: Mature Warnings: ANGST, Din Djarin x female reader, mostly Din's pov, AU. Grogu, Cobb Vanth, Peli Motto and Greef Karga appears. Word Count: 1500 Author’s Masterlist

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135 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

A Safe Place

So, I have no idea where this came from. None. But it's Pero, and I don't really need reasons to write him.

This is a standalone Pero Tovar one shot, with a female reader but told entirely from Pero's perspective.

Summary: He opens the door one night to find a friend in trouble, and in trying to help, he discovers that she's much more than a friend.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: TW domestic abuse, TW physical abuse, angst, hurt/comfort, no physical description of reader beyond female, happy ending. Word Count: 3250

Author's Masterlist

The two short knocks were so faint that had he not been on his way to lock the front door, he never would’ve heard it. It was well past midnight, and he’d just turned the tv off to go and brush his teeth before bed, so the house was dark and quiet, and still he barely heard it. He switched on the lights in the hall and opened the door. It had been a long day for a lot of reasons, and he was tired, but that all became insignificant when he saw you out there, leaning against the wall, covered in cuts and bruises, and hardly able to stand. You’d been beaten. Badly.

He stepped out and wrapped an arm around your waist, seeing how you flinched when pain shot through you at his touch. He wasn’t the most careful or tender of men, but he tried to soften his grip so as not to cause you any unnecessary discomfort, while he helped you get inside and guided you to his bedroom. You followed without protest, moving slowly and with great difficulty. You didn’t meet his eyes even momentarily, and he wondered why it felt like you were ashamed. Once he’d sat you down on the bed, he went into the adjoining bathroom and got some warm water and towels that he brought back and placed on the nightstand. He tried to be gentle as he wiped the blood off your face to try and see where it was coming from, but some of it had already dried and therefor required more effort. Every time his ministrations made you twitch or wince, he felt more and more like a monster for adding to your pain, but it had to be done. He found three larger cuts on your face and head, none of whom would need stitches, but he was gonna tape them together after he’d checked the rest of you over. Next were your hands, and they were in bad shape. You’d fought, and you’d fought with everything you had, as evident by the badly chafed knuckles. Your hands would need to be bandaged, but at least you seemed to have avoided breaking any bones in them.

“Where else?” he asked while dunking the small towel in the now dark red water.

You gave no response and didn’t move at all, and repeating the question yielded no better result, which made him huff in frustration. He was neither patient nor eloquent, meaning his responses to most situations consisted of grunts, sighs and eyerolls, which was usually enough to convey how disinterested he was in most things. But this time, for the first time, he regretted using such a crude way of communication, because you visibly shrunk at the sound, hunching even further in on yourself and angling your bowed head away from him.

He’d known you for almost ten years, ever since working his first real job, as a bouncer at a bar where you’d been a bartender, and at first, he’d found you childish and spontaneous and way too naive. You’d been the brightest spot of every room you set foot in and the one that everyone wanted to hang out with, simply because you’d radiated fun. You’d basically been his complete opposite, and while he’d never had anything against you, he hadn’t particularly liked you either. That is, until he’d seen you take every ounce of masculinity out of a guy that had made the mistake of putting his hands where they weren’t welcome. Naive, yes, but by no means helpless in either words or actions. He liked that quality in people, all people, not just women, because knowing that they could and would handle themselves meant that he didn’t need to worry about them. And try as he might, when he cared about someone, he worried. He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d begun to care about you, since you’d been nothing but an annoyance to him ever since then, but he damn well did. Not that he’d ever admitted it, even to himself. You’d pretty much just decided to befriend him, whether he agreed or not, and that had been how your relationship had worked from then on. You’d show up unannounced at all hours of the day or night, sometimes inviting yourself to crash on his couch after a long night, and sometimes bringing takeout and a movie, just because you were bored and knew that he wouldn’t throw you out. Occasionally, you’d even cook or bake. And it didn’t matter to you that he rarely engaged with your ideas, or even answered you when you prattled on about anything and everything, you just smiled and kept at it, determined to have a good time, no matter the mood of the room. That was who you were at your core: someone that made the most out of every breadcrumb. And more importantly; a free spirit. Someone not meant to be tied down and trapped by commitments and promises. You’d been happy to take home a random guy to enjoy yourself with for a few hours on the weekends, but that was as close as you’d ever gotten to people. Even the friends you’d had were more shallow acquaintances than real relationships, since you’d never allowed anyone to really know you. Well, anyone but Pero. During your forced visits you’d usually talk all the time, and the topics were as varied as insects were plentiful. But sometimes you’d stray into more personal areas, like your family, or dreams, or things you’d gone through in your life. So, in truth, he was probably the one person that knew who you were, behind the scenes, even though he hadn’t asked or wanted to be. Or perhaps because of it. All of this meant that he’d known when you’d met the guy that had changed everything. He’d known it from the first day, because your behaviour had started to change that quickly. He’d never mentioned his observations to you, it wasn’t his place to judge or meddle with your affairs, but he’d noticed, and he hadn’t liked what he’d noticed. The guy had snared you into a relationship you didn’t want, but for some reason didn’t know how to get out of, despite your confidence in yourself. And the result of that had been a slow and painful death of the person you really were, as your soul became increasingly trapped behind the walls of the cage that somehow grew around you. He’d watched it happen, and said nothing, even though he’d wanted to, because in your eyes he’d seen how desperately you’d needed his house to be a sanctuary. A place where that person was still allowed to live and shine, as free as she’d always been. So, he’d let you, knowing that every time you’d left, you’d returned to that cage.

Now that he saw the finger-shaped bruises on your wrists, he regretted his silence. His compliance. Because this was how the guy had trapped you. This was why you hadn’t found the strength to walk away. And a part of him had known it all along, but told himself that it wasn’t his fight, and that unless you asked, he had no right to meddle. But the truth was simply that he hadn’t wanted to get involved. And for no better reason than because that would’ve meant admitting that he cared. Well, too fucking late, pendejo…

“I don’t care what happened, just let me take care of your wounds.” he pleaded, hating how gruff he still sounded.

You wouldn’t meet his eyes, but you took a jagged breath and reached up to pull your long-sleeved t-shirt over your head, grimacing badly with the pain the movements caused you. And as soon as the shirt was off, he knew why. Big black bruises had already formed along your left side, from the hip all the way up to the underside of your bra, and angry red scrapes, most likely from the toe of a boot, adorned the softer flesh of your love-handle. White-hot rage filled his blood at the sight, and he had to clench his jaws down tight, to silence the string of curses that spilled from his lips. But he couldn’t halt the anger.

“I’ll kill him.” he spat between his teeth.

You flinched, but more likely at the hard and cold tone of his voice, than the words he’d said, so he tried to speak softer, although with limited success.

“You need a hospital, scans, medica-…”

“No.” you cut him off, but your voice was weak and fragile, even with such a small word.

“You could have internal bleeding, broken ribs, damaged organs.” he pressed, but you just shook your head.

“He doesn’t know… about you. I’m safe here.”

That would imply that you weren’t safe at a hospital, and when he considered the fact that this man had forced you to marry him, and would likely have a story prepared, explaining your injuries, it wasn’t unthinkable that he could get his hands on you, even around medical professionals. You were scared, and you’d come to him to feel safe, which for some reason eased the rage and made a different kind of warmth spread through him.

“Okay. Let me get some bandages.” he offered, and you nodded once.

He noted that you still hadn’t looked at him, and that sense of shame still hung over your head somehow, which he just couldn’t understand. But for now, his focus was on making you feel better. When he came back to the bedroom after having retrieved his first aid kit from the kitchen, you’d slumped down on your side on the bed, with your feet still on the floor. He lifted them up to make you more comfortable, and you didn’t react to the movement at all, so he kept a close eye on your breathing while he worked, just in case you weren’t merely sleeping. Even though your pulse was strong, and everything seemed stabile, he was much too anxious to have a hope of sleeping that night. So, he dragged a more comfortable armchair from the living room into the bedroom, that he could sit in to watch over you while you slept. But before he settled in, he dug up the duffel bag from the bottom of his closet. He hadn’t used the blades inside of it in the ten years since he’d cleaned up his act, but he still trained with them, and kept them sharp and ready. He’d never imagined that you would be the reason he might have to resort to that kind of violence again, but he would gladly do it to keep you safe. For all the annoyance you’d made him suffer over the years, you’d never once been unkind or deliberately selfish or unthinking. Not to anyone, even your bastard husband. He took his seat by your side, and after a few moments, reached over and wrapped one finger around your pinkie. Just so he’d know if you stirred, in case he dozed off. He looked at your hand, all red even where there wasn’t any visible damage to your skin, and he thought about how hard you must’ve fought, and it brought a small smile to his face, just barely enough to twitch at the corners of his mouth. But it felt bigger than that. Because that kind of spirit was how he was used to seeing you, that was the person he knew you to be.

The morning came without anyone having banged on his door in the night, reinforcing your statement that your husband really didn’t know that Pero’s house was where you’d spent most of your free time, even after getting married. He wondered how you’d managed that? How had you been able to carve out entire days or nights away from him, for over three years? Abusive men were controlling assholes, they generally kept their victims on a tight leash, but somehow, you’d figured out a way to keep a little corner of freedom, no matter what your lesser half had done. It was admirable, and perhaps the only reason you were in his bed right now. Without that little speck of freedom, you probably would’ve succumbed to your husband’s control completely. Allowed him to dictate every thought and emotion. But perhaps only because you’d had a slice of something better, reminding you that life wasn’t supposed to be lived in chains, you’d been able to hold on to yourself, until you’d found your breaking point, and used it to get away. He wondered how much you’d managed to hurt the guy in return, given the state of your hands. He hoped that the answer was: a lot.

You regained some energy over the course of that day, even though the bruises only looked worse, and your pain was still not lessened. The improvement seemed to be more of mind and spirit, than body. He cooked for you and helped you move around, and you were strong enough to tease him about his culinary skills, which was a good sign. But any time he tried to ask you about what had happened, you shut down and stopped talking all together. He wanted to know so that he could decide what he was gonna do about the situation, and with his general lack of patience, it was twice as maddening to be forced to wait, when he had no clue what your husband was doing to find you. By the end of the day, you asked him to stay with you after he’d tucked you into bed, and he couldn’t refuse you. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time you’d slept next to each other. Sometimes when you’d stayed the night, he’d found you curled up on one side of his bed in the morning, having snuck in at some point during the night, and he’d always woken you and told you to get your own bed. Your response to that had always been to suggest shared custody of his bed, since it was the comfiest one you knew of, and in more recent years had graduated to you simply reminding him of that shared custody, even though he’d never actually agreed to it. But now, he wondered if maybe it had just felt safe to you, even before you’d met your husband. A calm port in an otherwise perpetually storming sea.

There was no moon to be seen that night, nor stars to bear witness to his vengeance. It wasn’t his to take, not really, and he’d left you alone even though he knew that you needed him there. But his blood still boiled at the mere thought of the man, and there would be no peace until the bastard was gone for good. He knew which house it was, even though he’d never been there before. He knew where the hidden key was, even though he’d never used it before. Through your eyes he’d seen every inch of your home, and it seemed as familiar to him as you did, when he stalked through the bottom floor, making no sound at all. One step of the stairs creaked, and he skipped it without even needing to count them. The master bedroom was on the far end of the upstairs hall, to the right, past the nursery that he’d made you decorate in the hopes that it would make you yearn for a child as much as he did. No doubt only for appearances, as a man like him would take enormous offence at the suggestion that he wasn’t fertile, or man enough, to father a child. The bedroom door always stood open a few inches, so the bastard would hear it if you moved through the house at night. He snuck inside and found the guy sleeping on his side, the duvet down by his waist and his arm on top of it. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so the bruises you’d left on him were on full display in the light coming from the small lamp on his bedside table. Pero took a moment to admire your handiwork, some of it bad enough that large medical patches hid them, and he smiled in earnest. Because this meant that you’d already won. You’d already beaten him, in mind, body and soul. Meaning all he had to do was finish the job, so that you would never have to.

It would take another two days until you finally told him what had happened. He’d understood your shame then, as your kind heart had been made to endure terrible things for you to save yourself. Forced to reduce yourself to the most basic of instincts, ignoring all forms of humanity and decency and respect, in order to free yourself of a monster. You’d managed to stop your inner beast before delivering the killing strike, though, of which he was grateful. Both because it meant that your soul was still intact, but also because it had allowed him to exact his own revenge as well. It would take another few days before he told you about that, though. And only because the news reported about your husband’s disappearance, asking for tips concerning the whereabouts of his wife. You were shocked at first, but not appalled or disgusted, and after just a few minutes, you thanked him for his actions. He assured you that the body couldn’t be found, and that no blame could ever be laid at your feet, and you left it at that for the time being.

You never married again, but you did have a baby, a few years later after finally finding someone that you trusted to treat you right. He’d always been there, but you’d always thought that he was out of your reach, and he couldn’t say for certain that he hadn’t been. If you’d wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him to you for that first kiss, back when you were still just the friend he never invited, he wasn’t sure that he would’ve kissed you back. But he did that day. He kissed you with all the passion he possessed, tugged at you, begged you to come closer even when your entire body was pressed against his. He kissed you all night, everywhere that you would let him, and in those kisses, he learned what it was to love someone. How it felt. How it hurt and comforted all at once, how it burned and soothed and then started all over again, every single minute.

You gave him the rest of your life, and he took it proudly, all the way to your shared grave, many wonderful years later. In his final minutes in this life, having grown old and grey, he thought about the events that had unfolded back then, and he wondered if he’d given you enough. If the years you’d had with him had been good enough to balance those awful ones. To outweigh them, even. He looked at your face, still so soft despite the wrinkles, and still warm despite your soul having departed in the night. And you looked so peaceful, almost happy, even in death, that he had to have done something right. And that was enough. He’d gotten to be the one that made you happy. And now, he was the one that got to go with you to the next adventure.

--THE END--

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143 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

Wrong Way Home

--Marcus Pike one shot--

This is so not what I was supposed to spend all my writing time on this week, but that's what happened. This was also not supposed to be such a self-portrait, but it really is. It's completely self-indulgent and I make no apologies. I wrote this for myself, because I needed it, but maybe someone else needs it too.

Description: You pick up a stray and decide to help him get to where he's supposed to be, a decision which ends up having lasting implications.

Rating: Mature themes 18+ONLY Warnings: female reader, vague physical descriptions, driving, animals on the road, cursing, blizzard, hazardous weather conditions, fluff, angst, happy ending. Word Count: 12,690 Author's Masterlist

Two consecutive blizzards had dumped almost three feet of snow on your hometown, in the space of just one week, and now a third one was bearing down on you, expected to drop at least another two feet. You were used to bad conditions, having grown up there, but it was just as cumbersome and inconvenient each year, no matter how well prepared you were. Thankfully, the city council was also used to it and had all its resources in the streets, day and night, to try and manage the frozen masses that were trying to bury you. They had urged all citizens to keep off the roads other than what was absolutely necessary, but you were a good driver who knew how to handle snowy roads and bad visibility, and you had a good car too. So, when your mom had asked you to help her clear some snow in front of her house that Friday, to make sure the winds couldn’t push it up against her front door, you hadn’t hesitated to make the drive over.

She was retired and had badly arthritic hands, and while she was good at managing on her own most of the time, there were certain things she just couldn’t do anymore. You’d made her stay inside while you’d battled against the winds and the whirling snow for a good two hours, until you’d cleared enough of it that she’d hopefully be able to get her door open in the morning, even if it kept snowing all night. Once you were done, you stepped inside to keep her company for a while and get yourself warmed up. You were sitting by the little table at the kitchen window, sipping tea and looking out on the storm, talking about the latest things to have happened in the family since the holidays that had come and gone. Your mother knew that the depth of winter was hard for you, because the lack of sunlight made you depressed, and did her best to keep the mood light, but she could tell that you were more than ordinarily tired today.

“How was work this week?”

“It was okay. You know how it is, it’s stressful and hard, but fun and rewarding too.”

“Yeah. Thanks for coming today, I know how much you need your weekends off to rest your mind.”

“It’s not your fault that the sky is falling down, mom.”

“No, I know, but I just want you know that I appreciate it. You always come when I call, and I wanna make sure you know that I try not to take that for granted.”

“Thanks for saying that, but I’m happy to help, and I need a kick in the ass to keep myself from never leaving the apartment until spring. Besides, shovelling snow can be really therapeutic too.”

“I suppose that’s true. Will you stay for dinner?”

“No, I think I wanna get home and shower. How about tomorrow? I assume there’ll be more snow to wrestle with by then.”

“Sure, that sounds good. I do have one more favour to ask, though.”

You smiled and shook your head a little, before taking the last swig of your tea.

“You always do. What is it this time? Don’t tell me you went and bought something on some online flea-market again, I’m not picking up some odd chair or a pair of socks on my way home, not in this weather.”

“No, no, it’s just the Christmas tree, if you could help me get it up to the attic?”

You couldn’t hold back the sigh that pushed past your lips at that. The plastic masterpiece weighed a ton, and the narrow steep staircase to the attic required some delicate manoeuvring, which should be interesting when your muscles were already spent from your battle with the snow. But your mother knew that you’d still do it, which was why you didn’t feel bad about the sigh.

“Fine. But that oldest brother of mine is bringing it down again next season, mark my words.”

She just smiled and took both your cups to the sink, while you got up and went to work on the eight-foot beast of a tree. Half an hour later, just after 3pm, you were back in your car and making your way through the small village where your mother lived, mentally mapping the ten-mile route to get to your apartment, trying to think which roads might be best maintained. The wind was howling and tearing at the car, even at low speeds, and visibility was awful with how much snow was being pushed around out there. It was a minor miracle that you even spotted him. He was little more than a shadow against a dark background, but his movements caught your eye and once you took a closer look, you got worried and slowed down further before reaching him. He wasn’t anywhere near dressed correctly for that weather, wearing the kind of coat that looks good but isn’t actually that warm, and suit-pants, suggesting a full suit under the coat. But nothing more. No thermal clothes of any kind, not even a hat or proper gloves. His shoes were under a foot of snow, but you’d bet anything that it wasn’t gonna be boots. On top of that, he was carrying what looked like an overnight bag and a generally confused body-language, leading you to the conclusion that this was either the most unprepared tourist you’d ever seen, or someone that was seriously lost. You came to a stop right next to him, but the windows were frozen shut, so you waited for him to take the hint, until he opened the passenger side door but politely only poked his head inside.

“Hi, can you help me, I’m completely lost?”

An American. That was unexpected, but thankfully your English was excellent, and you’d finally get a chance to use it.

“Get in, you’ll freeze out there.”

He did as you’d said, and sat down, cramming the bag down on the floor by his shiny shoes that were absolutely packed with snow. You turned the heater up to maximum and then started driving again.

“I need to keep moving or we might get rear-ended by someone not expecting a car standing still in the middle of the road in this weather.”

While you explained, he took his thin leather gloves off and put his trembling hands against the warm air fan in the centre consol.

“That’s okay, I don’t have a clue where I am anyway. Thank you for stopping.”

You reached underneath his arms for the button that started the heater in the passenger seat.

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147 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A Little Menace

I recently had some trouble with the neighbors, and of course, my good friend @deadhumourist managed to turn it into an idea for a story. So, here's a lil thing based on her idea.

Rating: Mature Warnings: Includes ornithophobia (fear of birds), cursing, improper thoughts, modern!din, din djarin x female reader, Grogu is a human boy here. Word Count: 2080 Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 2 Link to Part 3 Link to Part 4 Link to Part 5

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He’s just a kid, he doesn’t know any better… That’s what you keep telling yourself as you throw some clothes on to run outside and stop your next-door neighbour’s kid from breaking your birdfeeder.

The thing is, this isn’t the first time he’s been messing with it, nor will it be the first time you talk to him about it, and he’s always apologetic once you catch him, which makes you think that this is about getting attention.

But you’re not his parent. It’s not your job to teach this kid how the world works and it’s not fair to him that he should have to endure getting repeatedly told off by a stranger, when you suspect that it's his dad’s attention he really wants.

“You know your dad will have to pay for that if you break it, and it wasn’t cheap.”

He flinches at the sound of your voice, spinning on his heels to look at you, and taking a few steps back, but he doesn’t run away. Your apartment is on the ground floor, and your balcony door is just a few feet from the feeder, so by the time he’s registered the sound of it opening, you’re already close enough to grab him, should you need to.

The thing is about the size of a large suitcase, cylindrical in shape and housing over fifty feeding-stations that varies in the types of seeds or other kinds of feeds that it can hold. Large nets for peanuts and Plexiglas containers for small grains, for example. It’s mounted on a big metal pole that’s been driven six feet into the ground to anchor the whole thing, and at the base of it, a separate type of feeder accommodates the magpies and other larger birds, to keep them away from the little guys.

“I’m trying to help the birds survive winter, why are you trying to hurt them?”

It’s a pretty solid construction, so in truth, the kid would have to work really hard to actually break it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still damage it. Plus, it scares the birds when he throws sticks or sometimes even rocks on it. Today though, he’d tried to sneak up on some blackbirds sitting on the ground and feasting on dried mealworms, doing his best to kick them as they scrambled to get away. Thankfully, he’d missed them all, but it had seriously pissed you off.

As always, he doesn’t answer you, but he does meet your eyes and you can see that he’s close to tears. Real ones. His body-language shows you shame and regret as clear as day, and you just can’t figure out what he’s trying to accomplish with all this. You sigh and cross your arms over your waist. He’s not your kid to teach, but this has to stop, and if his dad isn’t gonna take care of it, then you’re just gonna have to.

“I told you last time that if this ever happened again, I’d be marching you home and having a serious conversation with your father, and I keep my word, kid. So, you can either come with me calmly, or I can drag you there, what’s it gonna be?”

He looks worried, but after a moment’s deliberation, he slowly comes to your side and walks with you through first your balcony and then your apartment, out your front door where you immediately ring the bell of the apartment directly to your left.

Despite living next to them for over two years now, you’ve never seen his father. You’ve heard him bustle about in the kitchen, and their bathroom is wall to wall with yours, so you hear it every time the bathtub is filled or drained. But you don’t actively listen to your neighbours, you just register the sounds that are loud enough to cut through your music or sounds of the tv. Since you’re not the nosy type, you haven’t been running to look through the peephole whenever you’ve heard the door open, but he comes and goes like any regular person so if you had, you would’ve seen him.

The door opens, and you automatically begin to explain why you’re standing there with his son, in the hopes that he won’t get angry with you.

“Hi, Mr. Djarin, I’m sorry but your son-…” you trail off when your gaze connects with a pair of deep brown and slightly sad-looking eyes that are studying you closely, in between glances at the boy.

“What did he do?” he asks, his voice soft and low, and somehow making you feel like you wanna purr.

“Uh…” you’ve almost forgotten your reason for bothering him. “He was being mean to the birds in my yard. I would’ve let it go if it was the first time, but he’s thrown things on my feeding station and nearly damaged it a few times too.”

He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose, before sinking to one knee and beckoning the kid closer.

“Grogu, I’ve told you so many times now… the birds aren’t dangerous. If you leave them alone, they’ll just eat and leave.” he tries to remind his son, and you idly wonder if you’ve ever heard a name like that before. But the kid doesn’t answer, so Mr. Djarin looks back up at you.

“He’s afraid of birds. The smaller ones are more skittish, so he can ignore them because he knows that they mostly keep their distance. But the crows and magpies and the bigger ones are bolder, and they frighten him.” he explains calmly, with a very apologetic undertone.

You’re struggling to pay attention, though, because he’s kneeling just two feet in front of you, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes and you can’t help but wonder what he’d look like buried between your legs. If you’d known that he was this fucking beautiful you would’ve been glued to that peephole every time you heard him at the door.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” you try to sound diplomatic, but you’re not sure what to do about the situation.

One the one hand, it makes sense that he would be so aggressive towards the larger birds if he was hoping to scare them away for good, and that he’d be inclined to destroy the feeder to try and keep them from coming back. But on the other hand, his actions are still not acceptable and no matter what he feels, he isn’t entitled to destroy people’s property.

“I’ll pay for any damage he’s caused, of course.” he offers, and a streak of compassion stings your chest.

He’s a single father, doing his best, clearly exhausted and unsure of how to ‘dad’ correctly sometimes, and you simply can’t be upset with either of them anymore.

“Well, actually the feeder is homemade, so it would be hard to put a value on it. But he hasn’t broken anything yet, and I think I might have an idea on how to keep it that way.”

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185 notes - Posted July 17, 2022

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