#Shutter Raw Material

[ramp-it-up]

Muse: Four

Muse Three | Muse Masterlist | Muse Five

Summary: This is the one. The one where decisions are made. Words are said. The end or the beginning of you and Ari.

Pairing: Art Curator! Ari Levinson x Plus sized model! Reader

Word count: 3 K

A/N: Muse will be a series of one shots featuring Muse and Ari, and this the second one. We’re gonna hear from them at least every week. 😏 . This AU is tangential to the Peach and Knock You Down verses. If this drabble makes you angry, let me know! I love reblogs, replies, asks and likes. Let me have it! :)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Angst. Art Curator Ari. Plus sized model Reader, dating app life, casual sex, Dominant Ari, Missed connections, yearning, the green eyed monster, late night confessions, oral (f recieving), fingering, hint of breeding kink, size kink, nipple obsession, nipple play, protected sex, the 'L' word (finally).

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

--------

Two days later, you were shooting inside one of the most beautiful spaces you’d ever worked in. It was a gallery so beautiful it felt dangerous ot breathe. A curated reverence hung in the air, the kind that made you instinctively speak softer and move slower.

But you were on edge, because you hadn’t known the shoot would be here. 

No one had said Red Sea Gallery. The one owned by Ari Levinson. Just: White walls, natural light. Tribeca-adjacent. Minimal set.

When you put the address your agent sent you into your maps app and the name popped up, you were gobsmacked. You tried to prepare yourself in the two hours notice you had before the shoot, but you weren’t.

There were the standard issue floor-to-ceiling windows, along with the scent of clean wood, old paint, and history. What was unexpected was the way the afternoon light struck a sculpture in the corner, a piece too raw to be just decoration or inventory. 

It was too intimate not to notice.

You stared at it, knowing that he had chosen it, and how much more you understood about Ari because of it. There was something about the shape of the metal, the tension in the curve, the heat in the cold material. It was alive somehow.

It was you come undone.

Your stylist, Misty, snapped her fingers. 

“Hey. Earth to supermodel. Time to get into look number three.”

You nodded, throat dry. “Right. Sorry.”

But as you changed in the makeshift dressing area, pulling silk up over your hips, you couldn’t stop staring at the sculpture.

Couldn’t stop feeling him.

Ari had studied your face in the dark, and he’d whispered, “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Yeah. Well, you fucking knew now.

You posed for the camera like everything was fine. Hip cocked, chin high, face set to neutral.

But inside, everything churned.

And then, you saw a flicker out of the corner of your eye. You turned your head just in time to catch a shadow slipping past the far end of the gallery. The figure was tall and broad with a confident stride. 

Ari.

You didn’t need to see his face.

Your heart rate spiked, your skin prickled, and your body betrayed you all over again. But by the time you crossed the floor barefoot and barely covered, the hallway was empty.

He was gone, just a ghost of cologne in the air.

The photographer called your name.

You turned back slowly, with one last glance at the metal sculpture, gazing at the raw emotion rendered in steel.

You hadn’t spoken to Ari in days.

He hadn’t texted. You hadn’t called.

And still, the city kept folding you into each other’s orbits.

Near.

But not enough.

—----

Ari hadn’t meant to stay, it was going to just be a fifteen-minute walkthrough before tomorrow’s showing, nothing more. But the moment he heard the shutter snap and then heard your laugh, Ari stopped breathing.

He knew that you were here in his gallery and in his world. That world tilted a little bit.

His adrenaline spiked as he ducked into the shadows between exhibits, watching you from there. You were barefoot, bare-shouldered and bathed in golden light, wearing a gown that clung to your body like a second skin.

You were fucking good at your job, and Ari was witnessing first hand the work that went into producing those gorgeous pictures. You were professional and poised, but he knew the passion that lay underneath.

Ari’s fingers became fists at his sides because he had touched that fire, he’d tasted it. And now, all he could do was watch as he starved for you, every nerve stretched thin, every breath hard to take.

It had been days, not weeks or months, but he felt too long deprived of the sight of you. Even though he’d decided not to contact you again after that night that felt like war.

You turned slightly, your hips angled, one hand at your waist, and the light hit you just right. Like you’d been lit by God himself.

Those lips. That jaw. That hourglass silhouette that curved into him like a puzzle piece, you were amazing.

His hands had memorized every inch of that body, but at the moment he couldn’t move to touch you, couldn’t speak to you, couldn’t even fucking blink your image out of his brain.

The photographer said something about “more edge,” and you smirked, dropping your chin just enough to make mischief with your gaze.

It wasn’t meant for Ari. But fuck, he felt it. 

Ari stayed in the shadows just long enough to carve your image into his bloodstream.

Then he turned and left, silently bleeding for you.

—--

You weren’t trying to be on your phone, but it buzzed three drinks deep at some rooftop party, where the music was loud and the faces were blurred by flash and too much champagne. 

The second your screen lit up, you sensed it.

A DM. Then another. You tapped through. And there he was.

Ari Levinson. Black sweater. Cocky smile. Calm, cool, and collected.

A woman with mile-long legs and too much lip gloss draped herself over him, laughing into his shoulder in the boomerang video.

Made so you could watch it over and over again.

Ari didn’t touch her; he barely looked at her. But he didn’t move away either. 

And that was enough.

You locked your phone, shoved it under your thigh, forcing your lips into a smile when your friend slid another drink your way.

“You good?”

You lied. “Peachy.”

It wasn’t rational. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t own him. You didn’t even call him yours.

But all you could see was him, the man who once kissed you so hard you forgot your own name.

The man who made you feel.

And now he was somewhere else and you were losing your mind in an Uber home, crafting and deleting half a dozen texts you’d never send.

you looked good tonight

Delete.

was she worth it?

Delete.

i can't stop thinking about your mouth

Delete. Delete. Delete.

—--

Ari left that rooftop party ten minutes after that girl posted him.

He didn’t even say goodbye because he hadn’t wanted to be there. He hadn’t wanted anyone but you. And when he saw your name light up his notifications, saw that you’d watched, well shit, it made him feel sick.

Because he knew what you’d think, and it wasn’t the truth. The truth was you were already under his skin; you were already it for him.

He didn't know why that was so important to him, but it was.

You were.

—-

The knock came at 1:42 a.m.

You were scared, because you knew it was someone who could hurt you.

You knew it was Ari.

You padded barefoot to the door, one hand trembling against the wood as you peeked through the peephole. Ari was there in a Tribeca Festival hoodie, his hands deep in his pockets and his jaw tight.

You opened the door and didn’t say a word. Neither did he. For a moment, the city noise poured in behind him and then you stepped back.

He walked in like he was home. And you let him.

—--

You didn’t speak.

Just closed the door behind him and walked into the kitchen like he hadn’t shown up at nearly two am with that whole brooding/penitent thing going on.

You opened the fridge, poured a glass of water and sipped. You should have been an actress.

Ari stayed where he was, near the door, hoodie pushed back, hands in his pockets, eyes never leaving you.

You didn’t spare him a glance.

“Thought you were busy tonight,” you said evenly.

He didn’t answer right away.

“I was,” he said finally.

You set the glass down, still not looking at him.

“Saw the party,” you added. “Looked like fun.”

Nothing in your tone gave you away. Not the way your chest was tight, not the sting behind your eyes, not the taste of jealousy in your mouth.

"Didn’t stay long," he said finally.

The laugh that escaped you was bitter and broken.

"Long enough."

You turned, and there he was, suddenly in front of you, so close you could feel his heat.

"You were watching," he said quietly.

You glared up at him.

"Is that why you’re here? Because I saw?"

"I’m here because the second I saw your name on that story, I felt like I couldn’t fucking breathe."

You stared at him and saw that he wasn’t untouched. He wasn’t fine. He was fucking wrecked.

"You think you know what I’m feeling?" you said, voice cracking.

"I know exactly what you’re feeling," he said, "because it’s the same thing I’m feeling."

The words landed because they were true. Because he was the one person who saw through all your practiced detachment and soft cruelty. Even after so little time.

It was lightning in the bottle, finding the one who looked at you, read your bullshit and still wanted more. On a dating app no less.

Fuck your life.

You walked past him toward the couch, brushing too close on purpose. 

“You think you know me,” you said, sitting down and crossing your legs slowly.

“But I don’t own you Ari. You're free to do what you want. And she looked like a good time.”

You shrugged.

“You showing up somewhere with her is none of my business.”

Ari bristled.

“I didn’t show up with her. I went alone. I left alone.”

You blinked as he crouched in front of you, his hands on the edge of the cushion, one knee brushing your thigh.

“And I’m here now. With you. Because all I could think about was you sitting here, alone. Wondering what it meant. Wondering if I was fucking her. Wondering if I’d moved on.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He reached up, thumb brushing your jaw.

“I haven’t. I can’t. You’re in my fucking bloodstream," Ari said.

"And I can’t rip you out."

He bent and pressed his forehead to your knee and just breathed.

Your fingers hovered above his head for one breath. Then two. And then you gave in. They slid into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and his whole body tensed, like he hadn’t expected you to touch him, like he was braced for a shove instead of tenderness.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. And when your hand tightened, just slightly, he looked up.

Those eyes. God, those eyes. Those eyes gutted you the way they looked at you like you were the one who might disappear if he blinked.

You leaned in just enough to make him meet you halfway. And when his mouth met yours, it wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t greedy.

It was devastating. You couldn't pretend any more.

You broke the kiss only to whisper, “I hated seeing you with her.”

His head dropped, breath ragged against your knee.

“I didn’t touch her,” he rasped. “I haven’t touched anyone.”

You tilted his chin up. “Why?”

His answer came without hesitation. 

“Because I can’t get you out of my fucking head. When I look, I can’t see anyone else but you. I don't want anyone else."

That was when you lost it. The dam broke. You grabbed his hair, dragging his mouth to yours. 

The kiss wasn't sweet. It was needy. It was desperate. Your teeth, hands, and mouths were ferocious, and still, it wasn’t enough; it would never be enough.

"Tell me you hate me," he whispered against your mouth.

You kissed him harder.

"Tell me you don’t feel this."

You gasped, "I can’t."

You kissed him again.

"I don’t want to feel anything.” 

“I know.”

“And I still fucking do.”

“I know that too.”

Ari groaned against your lips, the sound low and primal, and it shot straight through you. His hand found the hem of your tank top and found the warm skin underneath.

You shuddered and gripped the front of his hoodie, yanking him closer and when the kiss broke and you gasped for air, he pressed his forehead to yours.

"You are so fucking stubborn," he whispered.

"I know," you rasped.

His hand slid up your ribcage and weighed your breast, thumb tracing your areola.

"Still want you," he said. "Even when it hurts."

He pinched your nipple to emphasize his point. You grabbed his jaw, palm dragging over his beard.

"Show me," you whispered.

Ari groaned and peeled your top over your head with shaking hands, tossing it somewhere neither of you cared about. You stripped his hoodie and t-shirt off too, tugging him closer by his broad shoulders, breathing him in, burying your face in his throat for one dizzying second.

Ari turned and sat on the couch, lifting you onto his lap. Your knees sunk into the cushions on beside his thighs and your bodies crashed together. He kissed down your throat, stopping at your pounding pulse to bite down gently. And when you felt the huge ridge of his cock through his jeans, you moaned helplessly.

"You drive me insane," he  whispered into your skin.

“Can’t fucking breathe without thinking about you."

You whimpered and arched into his touch while his thumbs circled your nipples until you were gasping in his lap.

"Ari," you moaned.

He kissed every inch of you he could reach.

"I’m here," he said. "I’m right here."

He carried you up to your bedroom, and the way he looked at you when he laid you on your bed made your heart ache. When he slid your panties down your legs, he kissed the inside of your ankle, then your calf, your knee, working his way up your body like he had all the time in the world.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and whimpered when he kissed between your thighs.

"Need to taste you," Ari stated. And then he did.

His tongue licked into you as his hands pinned your hips down when you tried to buck them up into his face, feeling like a desperate slut for him. Ari was an expert at making you feel good; his tongue was perfect on your clit and licking inside your folds, and his fingers fucked you open, lighting you up from the inside out, over and over, until you were a trembling, trembling, moaning mess under him.

You came hard, gasping his name, nails clawing at the sheets, and he didn’t stop tasting you until you came down. Then, he kissed up your body, planting open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, your ribs, and your throat.

At this point you were beyond feral, and you yanked at his jeans, needing more, needing him. He stripped them off, pushed his boxers down, and there he was, thick, hard, beautiful, aching, and dripping for you.

"Condom," you panted.

"Fuck…. Okay, yeah."

He scrambled for his jeans, hands shaking, and you couldn’t help but smile; wild and wrecked looked good on him. He rolled it on, kissed you again and then he guided the broad tip of his cock to your snug, slippery entrance and eased inside you.

You both gasped. He was so fucking big. Ari destroyed you so good.

It wasn’t just physical. It was everything. All the denial. All the want. All the feelings. It all combined to have your cunt slowly pulsing around him already.

Once fully inside you, he stayed still, forehead pressed to yours, giving you, and himself, time.

"You good?" he whispered, his voice wavering as your cunt pulsed around him. He was so close already.

It had never been like this.

The question was strange. He'd never cared this much while he was fucking you. But this time, it wasn’t just fucking.

You nodded, eyes burning.

"Move," you said.

And he rocked into you slowly at first, like he was savoring every second. You clung to him, nails dragging down his back, thighs tightening around his waist, making involuntary whimpers and ragged gasps.

His fingers glided over your clit and the pleasure exploded in a rich, crazy rush.

"Ari," you sobbed.

"I know, Baby," he panted against your neck. "I know. Feels so damn good."

He kissed your jaw, your temple, and your mouth like he couldn’t get enough. You rode his thick cock as his fingers spun your climax higher and higher as you tipped over the precipice again, crying out, your cunt locking down around him.

He groaned and thrust harder, losing control. It was the quickest he would ever come with you.

"Can’t…fuck…can't hold on..." he gasped.

You grabbed his face, made him look at you.

"Come inside me," you whispered. "Please."

This wasn't about the condom. It was the sentiment.

Ari's brain blanked, his whole body shuddered, and he buried his face against your throat and let go, hips jerking, mouth open in a silent cry.

You held him through it. And when it was over, he didn’t move. Just stayed pressed against you, still inside you, breathing hard.

"Don’t leave," you whispered into his hair.

He made a broken sound,  half a laugh, half a sob.

"I’m not going anywhere, Muse." he said.

"Not anymore."

—---

You woke tangled in Ari, your cheek pressed to his bare chest, his arm heavy across your waist, his breath steady against your hair. For a second, you just laid there, afraid to move. But then, his fingers moved up and down the curve of your spine.

You swallowed hard and shifted slightly, feeling him stir against you, realizing that he was hard again.

God, you were wrecked for him. Beyond reason. And beyond pride.

You tilted your head back to look at him, and saw that he was already awake, watching you. You opened your mouth to say something, something stupid. Something defensive. 

To make a joke. To make it light. To pretend it didn’t mean everything. But Ari beat you to it. 

His voice was rough with warning.

“Don’t run from me.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a plea. It was a command.

Your chest hurt because God, you wanted to run.

It would be safer. Easier. But you couldn’t run from him anymore.

You dragged your hand up his chest, feeling the rough patch of hair and the steady thump of his heart.

“You make it really fucking hard to breathe,” you whispered.

Ari smiled and kissed the corner of your mouth. Your cheekbone. Your eyelid.

And then he rolled onto his side, pulling you with him, keeping you locked against him as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. You buried your face in the curve of his neck, breathing him instead of air.

And then he said it, the words that split the world wide open.

“I’m in love with you.”

Like it was simple. Like you could just say shit like that.

You froze.

But he didn’t flinch, backpedal, or give you a single out. He just held you.

Like what he’d just said wasn’t terrifying.

And now you were crying, hot rivulets of your tears running down his neck.

You pulled back just enough to see his beautiful, stubborn, stupid face, and you gave him the only thing you had left.

You whispered it back, trembling and scared.

“I’m in love with you too.”

-----

oh. my. god. wbu?

Muse Five

[ninibeingdelulu]

Seeing you comforting a child…

ft. leon kennedy, cloud strife

Leon Kennedy would never dare admit it openly, but the stoic, badass exterior melted away ever so slightly at the sight of you tenderly comforting a lost child.

That time in the ransacked village, when the haunting wails of a youngster pierced the air amidst the carnage - Leon instinctively tensed, jaw setting grimly as his grip tightened on his rifle.

But then he spotted you already racing ahead unhesitatingly. Dropping to one knee, arms outstretched in a gentle beckoning posture as the little one startled then sprinted straight into your protective embrace.

Your soothing tones murmured comforting assurances while cradling their trembling form close against you. Fingers carding soothingly through tangled hair with the utmost tender care.

And Leon couldn't tear his widened eyes away from the tenderhearted display. Throat constricting over the unexpected lump suddenly materializing there.

That million-watt smile radiating from your features as you rocked them patiently until whimpering quieted was like the first vibrant blossom peeking through the ash after a nuclear winter.

An oasis of affectionate nurturing shining through the oppressive bleakness suffocating them both for far too painfully long.

Leon found his calloused finger-pads unconsciously drifting up to caress his own chapped lips as if wishing to physically absorb the tranquil serenity you effortlessly exuded.

Eyelids momentarily fluttering closed while permitting himself to just bask in the warmth emanating from your very presence like a soothing balm against all the harrowing darkness poisoning them both.

A tremulous sigh escaped between those parted lips as the barest ghost of a smile tugged at their corners for the first time in...Christ, had it really been years since he last felt anything even remotely resembling that fleeting glimmer of unguarded optimism blossoming in his chest?

The peaceful tableau you presented with the now-placid child tucked securely in your arms struck Leon deeper than any physical combat wound ever could.

Worming past every steel-plated layer of defenses, countermeasures and failsafes, straight down into the most vulnerable core of his humanity he'd sworn died an agonizing death ages ago.

It terrified yet entranced him in equal measure just drinking in the serene display. Eventually those narrowed steel-blue irises regained some of their piercing guardedness while surreptitiously cataloging every nuance etched upon your expressions and ministrations.

As if desperately searing the moment into his consciousness to be revisited and clung onto later through whatever hell awaited them next.

Thank Christ for your influence and the inexplicable balm it provided against the miasma of torment clouding Leon's withered soul more with every passing abyss they navigated together...

The uncompromising mask remained solidly affixed in place by the time you finally lifted your eyes to meet his guarded gaze, the child nestled peacefully into the crook of your neck.

Not a single flicker of that momentary softness penetrated the hauntingly chiseled granite of his features now.

Yet behind that shuttered and fortified thousand-yard stare, the barest ember pulsed with renewed tenacity suffusing Leon's frigid disposition with almost undetectable glimmers of warmth.

All because of your natural radiance and selfless compassion reminding him why they fought on through each grueling gauntlet.

Sure he'd never verbalize sentiments that unbearably raw and guileless aloud. But that infinitesimal spark continuing to miraculously smolder despite all efforts to smother it was enough to propel them onward through any escalating onslaught yet to come.

This time with a renewed fervor steeling Leon's adamantine determination from the inside out.

The desolate, mako-tainted wastes proved no place for a child's cries. Yet the haunting echoes still pierced straight through Cloud's calloused defenses when tiny lungs unleashed their heartrending wails upon the barren landscape.

His gloved grip instinctively clenched tighter around the battered Buster Sword's hilt, jaw tensing as those predatory ice-blue irises immediately snapped towards the source of the disturbance.

Fully prepared for whatever fresh horror emerged after the merc caught fleeting movement through his peripherals.

But the cautious sweep revealed only your slender form already hastening ahead. Moving with fluid grace directly towards the sobbing bundle tucked against a crumbling wall.

His firm chapped lips tightened into a grim line witnessing you unhesitatingly drop to one knee before the distressed child without any apparent armaments at the ready.

From this distance, Cloud glimpsed your gentle features soften with bottomless compassion wholly separate from the usual battlefield ferocity.

Small hands unfurled in placating gestures exuding profound warmth and sincerity instantly easing some of the fractures riddling his own battered soul simply by proximity.

While you deftly coaxed the tiny thing into your embrace with susurrant tones and infinitely patient ministrations, Cloud suddenly found himself robbed of breath altogether.

Those glacial spheres wide and stunned at the exquisitely tender vision you presented cradling their fragility so reverently. A profound ache lodged behind his breastbone at the maternal aura emanating from your whole being.

He swallowed convulsively over the sandpaper abrasions rasping along his windpipe.

Gloved fingers betraying the slightest tremor disturbing his usual uncompromising stoicism while still drinking in every indelible detail of the intimate scene unraveling.

From the tender flickering caresses smoothed across tangled russet locks to your honeyed vocals humming soothing melodies of consolation.

All suffusing the stale, mako-saturated atmosphere with vibrant healing essences Cloud found himself instinctively gravitating closer towards.

Feather-light brushes scritched lovingly along the whimpering child's back forming hypnotic ellipses mirroring your unguarded smile radiating all-encompassing warmth across those cherubic cheeks now drenched in tear tracks.

Until finally after an eternity, the miniature form stilled in your arms. Body unlocking from its terrified rigor mortis into the very picture of youthful tranquility tucked securely against your heartbeat.

Cloud hadn't even realized he'd been holding his own respiration captive until the soft sigh expelled in a shuddering rush between lax lips.

A full-bodied flinch rattled his broad shoulders at its sudden harsh volume intruding upon the sacred tableau before him.

But thankfully, your features remained beautifully serene, wholly undisturbed while continuing to rock the now-quieted bundle in gentle rhythms.

Only then did molten sapphire pools drift up to lock with his widened stare burning with intensity across the slender lacuna separating you. A tremor not wholly attributable to anxiety skittered down his whip-cord musculature watching your radiant smile intensify directed solely towards Cloud.

As if silently communicating your infinite gratitude for him bearing witness to such an intimate and precious moment blossoming in this scorched hellscape...

Whatever parched recesses comprising the haunted mercenary's core still retained the capacity for absorbing nurturing warmth - it suddenly flooded within the confines of his barrel chest when those infinitely compassionate irises shone their benediction upon him.

Unknotting every rigid sinew and ligament hardened into a battle-tempered carapace purely through the power of your tender, life-affirming essence.

Almost imperceptibly, Cloud's chapped lips softened around the faintest half-curved suggestions budding there.

Posture unconsciously opening to welcome your pure light into his long-shadowed world while holding your loving gaze in mesmerized thrall.

As if determined to thoroughly archive this oasis of serenity and unconditional love in his consciousness so it may fortify whatever grueling battles destiny demanded they wage next.

Then in a single blink and a slight dip of your chin, the spell abruptly dissolved back into hyper-vigilance.

Yet even with the mercenary's legendary ice reformed across those exquisite Nordic features, perpetually braced for the next onslaught - a spark continued flickering in the hooded caverns of his stare.

A faint ember of something intangible yet transcendent now eternally kindled behind his armored exterior.

All because you'd reminded Cloud one of his most precious intangible dreams had been manifested into cherished reality...even under the most desolate conditions.

[germanpostwarmodern]

The built manifestations of Brutalism, despite their omnipresence on social media, remain controversial: especially in Europe they are loved by some and hated by many. In other parts of the world opinions aren’t as polarized and Brutalism simply a part of the built environment, e.g. in Japan. Okinawa-based photographer Paul Tulett has been exploring the Japanese brutalist heritage for years and in his new book „Brutalist Japan“, recently published by Prestel, points to the particular appeal concrete had in postwar Japan: it offered seismic safety, was resistant to termites and easy to pour in form and via the shuttering boards also left room for the skilled Japanese wood crafts. At the same time the Japanese tradition for leaving natural materials rough and raw played in the hands of „béton brut“ that, as Tulett explains, became „béton nécessaire“.

The former’s gradual aging and the acceptance thereof agains roots in Japanese tradition, i.e. the concepts of „wabi sabi“ and „mono no aware“ which embrace the beauty of imperfection and describe the ambivalent awareness of the fleeting nature of beauty. Against this background and Tulett’s introduction to Japanese philosophies it becomes easier to understand why Brutalism is a lot less controversial in Japan than it is in other parts of the world and never disappeared. Accordingly the buildings gathered in „Brutalist Japan“ date from the 1950s to the present day and offer a comprehensive panorama of Brutalism in Japan: in brilliant photographs Tulett shows classics like Kenzo Tange’s Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum (1955) and Setagawa Ward Office (1959) or Le Corbusier’s National Museum of Western Art (1959) but also a plethora of little-known buildings. And they are compelling: the fortress-like Tanimura Art Museum (1983) by Togo Murano, the Keihan Uji Station (1995) by Hiroyuki Wakabayashi or the Okinawa Prefectural and Art Museum (2007) by Ishimoto and Niki Associates demonstrate the masterful use of raw concrete while also dealing with Japanese history and traditions.

This beautifully crafted mix of buildings makes the book a great read and an eye-opening survey of Japanese Brutalism. Highly recommended!

[mybelovedfleur]

𝐵𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 IV

(Yandere!Silco x Amnesiac!Fem!Reader)

!TW! FantasyAU! Heavy Yandere Themes, HEAVY VIOLENCE WARNING IN THIS ONE, manipulation, mind breaking, Silco is ooc for sure, vomiting, sick!reader, mention of death, dark yandere, I will tag every chapter seperately! :)

Description: ,, A series of unfortunate events causes you to completely lose your memory. Now, you find yourself thrust into the role of the Duchess of Zaun, married to a man you don’t recognize. But was this ever truly your life? And why does the scent of blood cling to you, no matter where you go? "

Note: english is NOT my first language, I am very much open for critique and suggestions but pls be nice and respectful :c I DO NOT support any of these behaviors!

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

The wind howled through the shutters, its whistle penetrating the walls like a ghostly lament. The room was shrouded in thick darkness, illuminated only by the warm glow of an oil lamp, whose flame trembled restlessly, as if it too felt the uneasiness of this place. 

You sat at a heavy, dark oak desk, your fingers lazily turning the pages of a book. The cold seeped under your skin, bit your fingers, forced you to rub your hands together in a desperate attempt to warm yourself. As soon as you turned another page, you immediately hid your hands under the material of your dress, shielding them from the piercing cold. 

The stove in the corner of the room seemed to be failing to fulfill its function, its heat was feeble, insufficient. The wind howled louder, sounding almost like the whistle of a kettle boiling on the fire, growing, piercing, almost painful. You pressed your hands to your ears, but the sound seemed to penetrate your skin, your bones, rumbling deep in your mind.

And then... Silence.

You froze, taking your hands away from your ears, feeling your heart pound against your ribs in an unnatural rhythm. You looked around, a shiver running down your spine. Where exactly were you?

Something about this place was... foreign. Familiar, yet completely different. This wasn't Silco's estate. There were no rich fabrics, gilded ornaments, or even the familiar smell of burning wood.

The air was raw, the smell of paper, dust, and something else you couldn't name. You reached for the lamp and lifted it carefully, casting its light into the room. The bed, despite its simplicity, looked comfortable—wrapped in blankets and pillows. There was a small cabinet next to it, and a row of books on top. 

You brought the lamp closer, trying to read their titles, but the letters blurred before your eyes, melting away as if the page was wet, as if some important piece of the puzzle was slipping away. Only one title was clear.

"Herbal Medicine"

You felt something tighten in your throat. Like something inside was telling you to reach for it, open it, read it—but before you could move...

A bang

A deafening, deep, tearing the silence apart. You jumped, almost dropping the lamp from your hand. Something struck deep inside the building.

You weren't alone.

Your footsteps were heavy, yet you moved forward, as if something larger than you was guiding your body in the right direction. The wooden panels creaked  under the weight of your feet, but the sound seemed to be lost in the silence—thick, oppressive, filling every corner of the building. 

And then you heard it.

"̶͚͉̤̎̐̋̏̓̉̚(̵̳̭͖̐͂͋̍̀̕ͅŶ̷̛̦̱̓͌̚͝/̷̮̙̰͕̺̋̉̈́̚͘ͅN̴̞͉̬̭͂͆̈́̌̾͝)̶͕̳͐͜"̷̯͉̼͑̔̌̋͐̅͑

The unfamiliar voice cut through the air like a blade. A shiver ran through your body from the back of your neck to your fingertips. Every part of you wanted to stop, to turn around, to run—but you didn't. You couldn't. Something inside you knew you had to keep going.

The deeper you went into the hallway, the clearer the voice became. It wasn't just a distant whisper anymore—it was getting closer, with every second, every breath, every step. 

You reached the top of the stairs. Your heart thumped hard against your ribs. The view downstairs opened before you, like a scene from a nightmare. The room was shrouded in darkness, and the only light—a thin, unnatural streak—was sent straight into the center of the room. 

There was someone laying in the centre. You froze. A man, curled in a painful position, his fingers clutching his left side. A dark, sticky puddle spread around him.

Blood

He was breathing shallowly, his body twitched, as if he sensed your presence. He slowly lifted his head. And his eyes... his eyes found yours.

,,Silco?" you whispered, your throat constricting with fear. You didn't take your eyes off him, you couldn't.

,̷̢̖͋̓,̷̡̠̎Ḷ̵̨̊̿̕e̴͓̿ͅȁ̶͓̪̊͒v̴̧͇̟̑e̶͓̘͂͠.̴͍̽̐.̴͇̟̼͒"̴͉̏̑

The voice had no source, and yet it echoed in your head, throbbing in your temples, digging under your skin

,̷̡̹̭̇͘,̶͔̯̊̈́̑L̶̝̬͍̲̩̰̤̅̾͐̀͆͝͝ḛ̶̣̹͔͙͋̔̈a̷͎̜̎̽̅̒͒͗v̶̥͎͕͊̅͐͋͋̿͠e̷͈̎̋̾́͂̈̍.̴̺̖͇̈́̿̅̈͝͝.̵̫͙̪͓͎̪̻̃̀"̷̢̟̞͖̙̽̔̂̍̕

It was everywhere. It was like an order, excruciating and harsh, and yet... your body couldn't obey it. Your feet, as if they no longer belonged to you, moved forward, pulled by a force you didn't understand.

,L̴̢̼̱͉̀͆͛͋́̓̑Ę̸͎̦̜͛̑̀͊̊̚Ã̶̘̳̖̯̥̲̤̊̽̏V̷̨̔̃͒̈́͑̚E̶̠̻̫̗͋

The scream tore you apart from the inside. But how? How were you supposed to leave when Silco was laying before you, bleeding, trembling, fighting for every breath? How were you supposed to turn your back when his blood — hot and dark — was soaking into the floor? How were you supposed to leave when every beat of your heart was calling his name?

Silco raised his hand, dripping with blood, and held it out to you. Involuntarily you did the same, as if some invisible force was pushing you forward, forcing you to respond to this almost pleading gesture.

As soon as you were within his reach, he tightened his fingers around your hand and pulled you to him.You didn't even have time to scream. The world around you spun, and your body began to fall. Not onto him, not onto the cold floor, but into the void—into nothingness that mercilessly swallowed you, as if all reality had collapsed beneath you.

You felt something wrap around you tightly, binding your arms, legs, chest. You tried to break free, but the more you fought, the tighter the grip tightened. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't move

Ỳ̸̡͎̳̱̮̳̝͓̜̈́̈̉̋̃͒͑͛̀͒͒͆̈́̌̃̾̍̎̉̍̅̄̂̔̃̑̋͒̎̏̀͊͛͂̍͑̎̇̒̿̈̾̄͒͋̓̕͘͠͠͝ǫ̶̡̢̨̠̺̫̻̬͕̲̙̖̯̃́̽͋̐͗̄̄̓͒̍̏̔͋̿̐̓̍̇̉̈̈̈̆̆̈́̄̓́̈́̆͗̒́̓̆͛̑͑̚̕͠͠ͅu̸̡̧̡̧̫͚̭̻͖̥͍̲̠̪̳̘̞͇̥̟̯̠̺̤̯̼̗͇̯̥̣̞̦͑͊̂͋̋̀͒̿̇̋̾̂͛͑̇̚͜ͅ ̶̢̹͖͙͇̦̱͎̬̮͇̺̯̳̙̈́̽̆͑̓̈́̀̒̈͊͋̈́̂͌̇͆͛̐̑̓̓̎̄̓̊̿̈́͛͌̆̉̑͜͜͝s̴̨̥̩͓̤̻̍̈́̌̍̓̿̑̓͌̀͆́͛͠h̸̡̛̬̜̮̲̖̘̫͎͔͉̖̗̙̟̉̓̀̓͆̍͋̑̒̊̎��̉̿̀̐͛̐̈͒̈́͛̎͛̈́̔̿͝͝͝ǫ̶̢̨̢͚͇͚͚͕̞̖̜͔̱̻͕͎̯͈̼̠̖̼̩̥͍̲̝̤̦̱̪̞̻͉̝̳̤̥̘̻̗͍̣̜̱͍̈́̌̎̃̌̋̇͆̏̏̏̇̄̓͘͘͜͜͝ͅͅͅų̴̢̛̛̱͚̤̗̙̯͕̟͚̦̯̳͍̠̻̤̱̘̐̂̓̔͂͐́̐̑̈̀̾́̀͛̋̌͋̽̆͌̒́̚͘͘̚l̷͕̜̜̯̐͑̎̓̂͌̏̏̐̈́̐̋͝d̷̡̨̢̛̛̙̥̟̻̻͓̪͚͖̩̼͕͈͉̗͓̟͔͕̻̮̼͉̗̳̱͔̯̝͔̜͙̞͖̞̞͔̫̟͖̟̰̰̲̙̹̥͍̟͙̬̞̗͊̃̈̐̎̉̿̔̌̈̆̒̅̋̇̂̎̄͑̆̔̎̀̔̌̆̕͜͝͝ ̶̢̧̡̧̪͕̥̤̦͔̩̖͚͎̹̤̱͈̖̤͓̦̺̗̳̠͍̗̳̼̟͎͔̠̟̦͚̳̻̗̫͇̜̫̼̘̝̦̖̟̥̞͉̪͙͑́͐̍͌͐̀͆̑̌̑̈́͑́̂̈́̈́̈́̃͑̏̍͑͛̄̇̀̉̀̾̿͌̃͘̕͘̚̚͜͜͝͝͝h̴̢̢̛̛̙̗̰͎͓̰͚͙̖̰̠̩̩̙͖̤̥̮͈̘͔̮̩̣̯̼͔͍̟͇͎̦̉͗͗̓͐̅̾̉̅̓͌́͆̔̒̒̓̄͑̾̑́̅̉̂͆̑̓̿͊͛̎́̎͊͆̆̓͒̽̾͂̿͒̿̍̃̕̚͘͜͝͠͝͝ͅa̵̢̡͍̦͚̯̞̫̹̼̪̖̘̼̯͙̓͌͒̈́̋͑̃͋͊̑̓̅̿̊̎̉͆̍̈́̆̂̔̒̌̐̏̊͒̈́̾̈͒̚̕̕̚̕͘͝͠͝v̷̨̢̧̨̨̛͈͚̜̞͉̟͕̳̹̥̩͙͇̙̟̯͎̬̥̳̗͖̺͕̖̻̗̣͙͈͍̗̳͎̘̼͓̰̯̗̻͇̣̠͚͇̬̦̭̻̒͒͋̑̏͗͛̾̀̈͌͊͒͛͑̊̄́̔͐̐̈͛̃̆́̉̽̉͒̋̓̽̏̎͒̚̚̕͜͝͝ͅe̴̡̧̧͈̳̥̤͚̥̭͖̝͓̺̘̻̯͍̠̤͍̠̮̝̦̺̖̱̪̮̭̹̣̜̓̅́̿̐̃̽͛̌̂̈́͆͊̍̔͗͌̃̈́̽̒̏͛́͋͒̏̆͋͊̀̈͂͂̾̿̽̉̃͗̚͘͘̚̚͘̚͘͜͝͝ ̴̡̞̭͉͚̲̪͈̺̥̯̱͕̜̼̣̫͓̬͙̝̯̺̮̙̙͙̥̝̦̥̙̲͌͌̏̌̒̍́̂͗̆͗͊̅͛̀̍̽̒̋͗̆̆̒̚̚͝l̵̢̡̨̧͕̫̹̖̭̪̮̻̬̤͎̱̺̟̮͕̭͉̭̥͉̳͔̫̰͉̗̬̮̠̦͖̘̟̜̤̺̠̦̭͉͐͛́͂̓́͊̒̉̇̑͑̂͌̄̎̂͐̿͝͠ȅ̴̢̡̧̡̦̬͓̬̤͈͖̘̭̫̣̙͇͙͔̞̹̩̯͈͂f̵̨̛̛̙̲͕͚͓̲̀͒̈́̆͌̈̿̈́͆̓̍̍̊̃̽́̔͆̅̎͌̅̊̾̂̍͋̈̎͗́̆́̐̆̓͑̆̏͗̈́͊̄̽̚̚͝t̶̨̢̢̢̨̢̛̛̛̛̬͉̭̥͙͔͈̜̳̞͉̝̤͖̱̗̰̤͈̭̠̰̜̥̪̱͍̟̯̠̯̩͊̊̆͒̉̑͛̂̾͑̄̔͗̆̓̒͑̇͆̀̎͌̓͛͆̀̆̾͑́̈͑̌͒̃̀͌̈̄̓͆͂̍̚̚͘͝͝͝͝ͅ ̶̢̨̢̡̛̛̛͖̘̠͍̯̹̺̥̯̟͍̖͔̖̩̣̘͉̭̣̘̟͔͇̲͇̗͚̣͈̳̩̘̤̟̓̏̓̈́̿̄͛̎́̇͋̌͑̋͗͒͗̀͑̅̽̽̑̑̐̂̒͛̓̋̂̎̿̐̈́͊͒̾͐͂̕͘̕̚͜͝͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅh̷̨̨̨̠̯̯̰̝͙̝̺̙̬̙̰͍͉͚̳̦̯̗̹̥̲̤̩̪̱̬̰̻͕̗̭̟̞̞̱͔̰̻͚̗̻̤͔̙͉̮̱̐͂̍̀̐́̏̅̄͊̓̐̇̓͑̓̂̒͊̆́͐̑̈͌̓̍̎̂̄͋̑̾̂̈́͌̇̓̆̚̚͜��ͅͅi̷̢͙̝̺̫͇͎̯̦̝̻̫̦͓̣̣̦̯̠̜̻̘̲̻͑́̀̒̄̌̆̉͌̇̀̓̈́̓́̄̚̚̕̕͜͝ͅm̶̧̨̧̧̨̨̨̢̛̱̫̙͙̘͇̫̺͙̟̖̻͈͖̳̹͕͔͓̗̳̞̤̝͉̘̤̝̪̮̗͋̌̀͒͋̽̐̀̇̿̈́̚͝͝ͅ ̴̘̜͉͓͈̭̘̀͆̓̆͒̎̒͛̉̊̕̕͘͠ţ̴̢̢̢̧̡̛̛̛̙̰̯̣̙̣̥̹͖̬̻̮̻͈͖̗̼̞̤͉̖̥̖̪̝̦̱͈̈́̈́̀̍̽̿̀̏̌̍̅̏͗̀͌̎̍̃̃̓̊̆́̒̽͋̇̒̇̽̑̊̽͒̇͛̅̌͛̀̃͘̕͘͘̚̕͝͠͝͠ͅơ̸̧̧̢͙̗̭̠̦͔̦̙̼̱͈̝͍̘̞̖͉̣̭̺͈̻̞̱̩͙̠̬̬̭͈͓̙̝̗̘̔̅͊̈́͆͑̔̎̊͂̇̇̐̏̈́̒́͋͋̊̎͆̐͋͜͝͝͝ ̷̧̢̺̳̳̥̣̹̥̹̮̬͈͚̭̜̪͍͕͎͍̰̬̱̞̟̘̱̦̤̓̑͐̽̅̄̃͌̆̍́̈́̈́̀́̑̊̍̿́͊̏̏̍͛̌͊̾̏͊̈̋͌̉̈́́̏̿̐̾̀̊̑̌̈́͂̽̑͂͊̌́͘̕͜͜͝͝͝d̸̢̜͉̤̬̳͍̞͕̫͙̬͈́͗͒͛̏̇̽͗͑̚í̵̢̛̺͉̯̖̯͕͓̪̟̪͖̠̙̰̘͉̏̇̈́́͛̾̿̈́̇̃̃̅̋̌͆̓̈́͛͌̂͂͂̐̄͐͊͊́͒̂̊̎̃̐͘͘͝͝͝͠ȩ̸͕̦͚̲̹͖̘̬̼̲̬̟̟̻̮̯̦̺̹̮̯͈̤̻͔̝̠̰̱̝̲̹͍̝͔̥̯̥̹̭̞̻͋͌̏̏̄̍́̎͛͐̆̽͒͐̋͒̽̓̃̉̎̄̂̌̾̎̉͝͝͝͠ͅͅ

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Silco proudly told you that day that he would show you around the estate and that he would spend the whole day with you alone. At any other time, such a change in your monotonous routine would have been exciting, but this morning you felt... strange. 

The dream from the previous night was still stuck in your mind, too real, too tangible. Every time you closed your eyes for more than a second, you felt like you were falling into nothingness again, as if the bonds were still wrapped around your body, suffocating you with an invisible grip.

On top of all that, your book was gone, just yesterday you had fallen asleep with it in your hands, but now there was no trace of it.

On the table was another book—an old, slightly worn leather-bound volume, a romance novel whose title you didn't recognize. 

No matter how much you rummaged through the pillows, blankets, every corner of the room, it disappeared like a stone thrown into the water. One of the servants must have taken it, although you didn't understand why, they never touched your things without asking before.

You felt like something was slipping away from you, like an invisible hand was crossing out tiny elements of your reality before you could see them. But you had to put it all aside. Silco hadn't left your side since morning, and his attention had effectively distracted you from everything else.

You insisted that you would walk on your own. Silco, despite his overprotective nature, gave in – albeit reluctantly. That's why your tour of the most important parts of the estate dragged on endlessly. Every step seemed to require more effort from you, and every few minutes you had to stop to catch your breath and regain at least a little strength.

You didn't complain. Quite the opposite – these short breaks gave you more than a moment of respite. They allowed you to look around more carefully at spaces that you had previously only superficially known. And when Silco stopped next to you, discreetly observing whether you were not overdoing the effort, you directed your gaze to the windows. The gardens surrounding the estate looked completely different from this perspective – vast, almost wild in some places, as if deliberately left to nature. Hidden paths disappeared in the shadow of pergolas entwined with vines, and in the distance the surface of a small pond gleamed, reflecting the gray sky.

The mansion was huge – spacious corridors stretched on endlessly, and each room you entered seemed more impressive than the last. The high ceilings were decorated with intricate moldings, and the walls were covered with heavy velvet curtains. The furniture – solid, dark, made of the finest wood – gleamed under a layer of carefully polished wax. Every detail of the decor screamed wealth and power, but at the same time, something about this place made you feel uneasy.

It was... too perfect here.

Every object had its strictly designated place – not a single thing out of order. Even dust seemed to be something that had no right to exist here. The sense of sterility was almost overwhelming, as if no one dared to disturb this perfection.

Despite the splendor and perfect order, the rooms seemed empty – as if no one actually lived there. There were no signs of everyday life – no abandoned books, no cups of unfinished tea, no trinkets that would indicate someone's presence. Even the air seemed too still.

For a moment, you felt like you were walking through an exhibition – beautiful but dead. There was something unnatural about this place.

Something that made you feel... imprisoned.

"Is this the library?" Your voice was quiet but hopeful. You didn't take your eyes off the massive double doors in front of you. They were impressive—the dark wood gleamed in the dim light of the hallway, and the gold fittings reflected the light like glowing sparks.

Silco, standing right behind you, held your hand on his arm—too tightly, as if he was afraid you might slip away. A quiet, throaty laugh escaped his lips when he saw the glint in your eyes.

"I left the best for last," he said with amusement, a hint of tenderness in his voice. "I knew if you went in there, I wouldn't get you out" he lifted your hand to his lips.

"But today..." his voice took on a soft, almost gentle tone "Today, I won't hold you back."

You felt incredible, walking the aisles and reverently running your fingers along the spines of books. Each section drew you in for a longer while, each promise of a new story or mystery tempting you to delve deeper. 

Despite your weakness, you felt the energy that had been missing from all those long days spent in bed returning to you with each step. Now you were free – if only for a moment – ​​and you weren't going to give it up.

Silco was always close. His presence enveloped you like a shadow – discreet but tangible. Always ready to hand you a book from the top shelf, to grab your arm when you lost your balance, he was always watching over you. And just as persistently – he always suggested that you slow down, rest. 

But you didn't want to slow down. You had been motionless for too long, trapped in a body that seemed to betray you with each passing day. Now that you could walk again, you wanted more. More books. More space. More answers.

And yet... something was missing.

Despite the hundreds of volumes that captured your attention, deep down you still felt this unsettling dissatisfaction. The thought of that book wouldn't leave you alone. It was like a shadow on the edge of your consciousness - elusive, but impossible to ignore. You looked around furtively, trying to scan every corner of the library for a hidden section where you could find it.

Silco didn't miss your moment of contemplation.

"Are you looking for something specific?" he asked, his voice filled with polite curiosity, but also something else - a note of wariness that you couldn't ignore.

You looked at the stack of books in his arms - the ones you had chosen, which he almost immediately took away, offering his help. Always eager to relieve you of even the smallest effort.

For a brief moment you hesitated, feeling something in the back of your mind warning you to be careful. Every nerve in your body screamed that you shouldn't say anything, that you shouldn't bring this up.

"If you don't tell me, I can't help you." his voice was quiet, but the tension that trembled within him was almost tangible. The smile disappeared from his face, and he seemed to get closer—too close. The heat of his body radiated off him in waves, like a glow that consumed every inch of space between you.

You clenched your fingers around the hem of your dress, trying to find some kind of balance against the intensity of his gaze. You knew he wouldn't let go. Not Silco.Giving in under the weight of his gaze, you sighed quietly.

"Yesterday... I was reading a book. I'd really like to finish it, but... I don't know where it is. I'll probably find it later—

"What was it called?" he interrupted you immediately, his tone cutting through the air like a blade.

You shivered. You felt your heart beating faster, and a strange pressure tightened your throat.

"Herbal medicine."

For a brief moment you thought you had misheard, but no - you had actually heard it. The grinding of teeth. His hand, previously relaxed, clenched into a fist so hard that the skin on his knuckles turned white. A shadow moved across his face, and in his eyes, which had seemed gentle a moment ago, something sharp flickered. Something dangerous.

The silence that fell after your words was almost tangible – heavy and oppressive, as if each sentence you uttered tightened the invisible thread between you even more.

Silco still stood still, his gaze piercing you through and through, as if he was analyzing every word you said, breaking it down into its components. It seemed to you that there was something more lurking in those icy eyes – something you couldn't name.

After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if trying to calm down.

"The book you were reading yesterday?" he repeated, as if making sure he understood correctly. "Is it about 'The Doll'?"

You frowned. You remembered the title – you had seen it briefly when Erin had brought you a stack of books. But it wasn't that book. You immediately put it aside, uninterested.

"It was the book I found you with last night, when you had fallen asleep on the sofa." - His tone was calm, too calm - almost artificially composed ,,I put it on the table. Don't worry, I marked the page you left off on"

His voice was like silk - smooth, perfectly controlled - but there was something in that smoothness that sent a shiver down your spine. And yet his lips still didn't stretch into even the slightest smile.Something was wrong.,,No, that's definitely not that book" you were surprised by the force with which you said it. You knew it ,,Its title was "Herbal Medicine". I'm sure of it. It had a green cover and..."

You stopped suddenly. The image - a cold room, a shelf of books, one visible - hit you with such force that you were there again.

Your heart sped up. Was that possible? Or... had you mixed up a dream with reality?

Anxiety tightened around your throat like an invisible noose. 

"You're crazy"

That voice in your head grew louder and louder, intrusive, like an echo that wouldn't go away. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably, and your breathing was shallow and ragged. God... is this happening again? Am I... losing my mind?

Before you could step back, Silco had already put down the books he was holding and was by your side. His hands were steady, warm as he cupped your face and gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down your cheeks.

"Look at me" his voice was low, quiet, but there was something in it that didn't let you object. You looked up, and your eyes met his - intense, penetrating, as if he saw more than you ever wanted to show "I'm right here" the words fell from his lips slowly, almost caressingly ,,You can tell me anything. I want to know every thought that torments you. Every pain, every fear. Every thing that makes you cry" he leaned closer, his breath brushing your skin. Every syllable he spoke was saturated with something deeper—desire? Obsession? You weren't sure.

,,Sometimes I wish I could enter your beautiful mind" you shivered, and he felt it—the warmth of his hand seemed even more overwhelming ,,I wish I could understand you fully. Every secret you have. Every thought you hide. To be the only one who truly knows you" his words were tender, loving and yet something about them - something about that fervent desire to possess you whole froze you from the inside. You felt as if his voice was wrapping you in invisible bonds – gentle, almost soothing... but not letting you escape his grasp. You clenched your fingers into the material of your dress, desperately searching for any anchor to keep you from drowning in his touch.

,,I'm tired..." you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the tears flowing mercilessly down your cheeks. Your body was tense, and your heart was beating too fast, as if it couldn't find its rhythm. With each passing moment, the spacious room seemed to close in on you. The walls that once seemed so far away were now right next to you - they were shifting, as if they wanted to swallow you whole.

,,I want to go back..." you choked out between sobs, your voice trembling. Each word was like a stone that fell on your heart.

,,Oh my beloved..." his voice was soft, but full of deep concern. He closed you in a strong, almost desperate embrace, as if he himself was the answer to your call. His warmth enveloped you like a cocoon, and when you felt a tender kiss on the crown of your head, the whole world disappeared for a moment.

"Let's go back" you felt his strong hands grab the back of your knees, lifting you off the ground. You found yourself in his arms, pressed tightly against his chest. His body was not only a support - it was your refuge. His whole world was becoming your world, and you were supposed to be safe in it.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Erin pulled her nightgown out of the wooden chest in the corner of her room and threw it on the bed, ready to get rid of the apron that had been tightly hugging her body all day. The fatigue of the day's work was starting to overwhelm her when the door creaked open

"Miss Mabel" her heart stopped in her chest for a moment as she saw her superior standing in the doorway. She straightened up quickly, then bowed slightly

"Follow me, I need your help"  there was no room for argument, there was not only strength in her voice, but also something that did not allow for any hesitation. Erin opened her mouth, ready to answer, but at the last moment she fell silent as she saw her superior standing there, waiting. She stopped mid-sentence, holding her breath and he just nodded quietly, not daring to object. 

The hallways were drowning in silence. Night had enveloped the manor, and all the servants had long since finished their duties, the only sound in this emptiness was the rhythmic clatter of Mabel's heels, echoing off the high, cold walls. Erin followed close behind her.

They stopped at a heavy, metal door hidden in the shadows of a recess. It led to the pantry—a place Erin rarely visited. She was not allowed to prepare meals. Miss Mabel strictly guarded it, making sure that only a handful of trusted servants had access to the food served to their masters. The fewer people who knew what was going to their tables, the less risk there was of... anything she so obsessively guarded.

Erin swallowed, glancing at the cold, metal handle of the door. What could possibly need her help at this hour?

"Miss M—"

"Foolish girl" Mrs. Mabel interrupted sharply "be quiet" these words hit Erin like an icy wave. Something in her tone made her heart beat faster, acold shiver ran down her spine, but she didn't have time to think.

They entered the pantry and the only source of light was an oil lamp, flickering uncertainly on one of the barrels. Shadows danced on the walls, stretching into grotesque shapes.

It was only when a long moment of silence fell between them that Erin knew she was definitely in danger, her superior was looking at her without a word, as if waiting for something to happen.

And then two pairs of hands emerged from the darkness, grabbing her in a steely grip.

"Let go!" she choked out, struggling desperately, her voice bounced off the cold, stone walls. The strong hands didn't loosen their grip, her resistance meant nothing. She struggled, kicked, tried to free her hands, but their grip was like steel shackles.

They dragged her by force into the depths of the underground, pulling her into a long, dark corridor, where the light of the lamp quickly dissolved into the darkness.

"Please..." she whispered pitifully, although she wasn't sure if it was a plea or the last shred of hope that someone would show mercy. But there was no answer, only the dull clatter of footsteps on the stone floor as they dragged her deeper into the darkness.

The room they had dragged her into was filled with wooden crates, stacked one on top of the other in a chaotic mess. Some of them were open, revealing their contents—weapons.

Guns, knives, ammunition gleaming in the dim light of a single lamp. Erin didn't even have time to think before her body hit the cold, stone floor with a brutal blow. She fell to the side, her carefully pinned hair spilling around her face. She tried to get up, but before she could even lean on her hands, she felt a sharp, heavy pain.

The blow was powerful, the world spun, and she fell to the ground again, her body sliding limply across the floor. Her head was throbbing with pain, her heart pounding in her chest like crazy. She opened her mouth, screamed, but her own voice seemed distant, as if it wasn't hers.

A sob racked her body, she couldn't stop it, and then she heard that voice.

"I am disappointed" she didn't have to look up to know who was standing over her. She knew that voice all too well.

"So much effort, so much work, so much training for the staff to be perfect. To fulfill their roles as they should" Silco continued "And yet... yet someone dares to scheme behind my back. To put my wife in danger"

Erin squeezed her eyes shut.

"My Lord..." she whispered, her voice trembling, not even trying to look up. She didn't dare look at his face, not even at his shoes. She stared at the floor, at the tiny cracks and bumps in the cold stone.

"I have given my wife into your hands" Silco's voice grew angrier, his cold fury directed not at Erin this time, but at her superior, who stood at the entrance on full alert "I entrusted you with her health, her life. And then... I find out that in my absence her mental state was being endangered by the girl you chose yourself?! His last words cut through the silence like a blade. 

Erin flinched, her body instinctively curling up on the floor. He was a man who did not lose control., even when he was furious, his anger had a cold, deadly precision to it. But now... that scream was more than just a simple outburst of anger. It was raw, unstoppable fury.

"I take full responsibility" Mabels voice devoid of emotion "I deserve the ultimate punishment" 

Silco narrowed his eyes, turned around abruptly, and began to pace the room like a wild animal trapped in a cage. He was breathing heavily, his hands gripping his hair, almost tearing it from his temples.

"You're lucky..." he finally said through clenched teeth "You're lucky I managed to get the situation under control and my wife is safe" he stopped suddenly, resting his hands on one of the wooden crates 

"But what happened can't be undone" the room fell dead silent. Erin could feel her own ragged breaths echoing in her ears, she was too scared to move.

"I'm sorry..." she managed to choke out through aggressive sobs. Her voice was ragged, trembling, barely audible between convulsive breaths "I'm so sorry..." Silco didn't even look at her

"You know there's only one punishment for betrayal" he snapped his fingers and efore she could comprehend the meaning of the gesture, she felt a tug. Someone grabbed her by the arms and roughly pulled her forward. A violent shiver of panic shook her body, shee kept repeating her apology, over and over, like a prayer she couldn't stop. 

She squeezed her eyelids so hard that the world around her turned into absolute darkness. She was forced to kneel in front of one of the crates, her heart was pounding in her chest, her breathing shallow and ragged. When someone ruthlessly pressed her head against the rough surface of the wood, she began to hyperventilate hysterically. Her wrists were tied tightly behind her back, and someone's rough hands pushed her hair back, exposing her neck. A terrified, animalistic scream escaped her lips.

The woman standing in the dark corner of the room almost flinched as the young girl's head rolled off the wooden crate and across the cold floor. Her eyes were still open, frozen in terror. She had seen many horrors in her life,looked at death up close many times, often even caused it. 

But this? This was something else. Something that even in her aroused the reflex to look away. And that was really hard to achieve.

Silco stood unmoved, as if what had just happened had no great significance to him.

"Show her head as a warning to the rest," he said coldly.

"Yes, my lord" Miss Mabel replied faithfully, without a trace of emotion in her voice.

"And then burn everything, far away from the estate. Nothing is to be left of her" he turned and headed for the exit.

"Sevika, you are to see to it" he threw the words over his shoulder, not even sparing her a glance, and then disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, leaving behind only a heavy silence and the smell of blood that slowly filled the room. Sevika sighed, running a hand over her face.

"Shit, I need a smoke"

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

I am not completely proud of this chapter, and I don't feel as confident in my english writing skills anymore, but I try my best! The dreams in this story are a big part of the lore and very important, I want them to be written as best as I can, thats why this chapter took me so long, I was stuck at the very beggining for a while. Thank you so much for all the comments on ao3 and on tumblr, I read all of them and you give me so much happiness, I am gratefull for each one of u <333

Taglist: @killjoy-youngblood @jllyunn

[sirfrogsworth]

Amazon-Style Product Photography Tips

I got this message from a lovely follower.

Now, a fairly large part of my new steady job is product photography. Not glamour shots, more documentation. The company I work for makes, among other things, licensed drinkware (think water bottles, mugs, tumblers, etc.). Part of my team's duties is to photograph a mockup or finished product both for our records and to submit to the license holder.

The routine typically goes: put item facing forward in lightbox. Click. Rotate to the left. Click, etc. for the back and right. Then a closeup of the copyright info.

Here, finally, is my question: one of the license holders decreed that all of our photographs must be taken at f/8 and shutter time (?) of 1/25s. This strikes me as… not always optimal, considering the range of colors of objects as well as different materials: polypropylene both transparent and opaque, stainless steel, and lacquered cardboard for packaging. I would love to hear your thoughts on how I might better (while being consistent!) adjust camera settings to account for these kinds of factors

As an added bonus, we let the camera decide white balance/color correction. But I don't think I'm knowledgeable enough to try and correct myself, considering none of the monitors/printers I use are color-correct in the first place. I just know there have been many times where I've submitted photos only for the license holders to be like, "Hmmmm, that green doesn't seem like the right kind of green…RESUBMIT!"

First, I'm going to answer this specific question, but at the end I'm going to recommend a full setup for taking these type of rapid fire product shots.

My answer:

f/8 makes sense. Outside of macro photography, this allows a deep depth of field assuring the photo is sharp and in focus for the entire depth of the product. It is usually the sharpest part of the lens and it is not so small of an aperture that you risk diffraction effects softening your image. They probably were told this by a photographer and thought it applied to all of the camera settings.

The shutter speed is problematic. By forcing it to a fixed setting, your camera is going to choose whichever ISO gives a good exposure. And if you don't have enough light, it will choose a high ISO that will possibly add a great deal of noise to your photo. Noise can corrupt the colors of your photo and it just looks bad.

If your camera is on a tripod and they want the sharpness and depth of field f/8 grants you, then I would set your camera to aperture priority mode (usually Av), lock your ISO to it's lowest number (usually 100) and then your camera will choose the best shutter speed on its own.

So… Camera on tripod Av mode f/8 ISO 100 Camera chooses shutter speed

This is all assuming you are using a tripod and continuous lighting. If you are handholding the camera or using flash, I can rewrite the recipe. Otherwise this will get you very sharp photos with minimal noise.

I'd also recommend getting a shutter release cable so you don't shake the camera when taking the picture. Just search your camera brand and “shutter release” and get the cheap wired version unless you really need wireless.

This is the Canon DSLR one, just to give you an idea.

Be warned, if you do not have powerful lighting, you may get some long shutter speeds. That is perfectly okay as long as it is on the tripod and you aren't shaking the camera when taking the picture.

As far as white balance goes, if you really want it to be accurate, you can order a cheap photography “gray white balance card”. They are as cheap as 10 dollars.

This is the one I use.

There are a couple of ways to utilize the gray card.

Option 1:

You put the gray card in the exact lighting as the product or just hold it directly in front of the product.

You take all your photos in RAW format (JPEG will not work) and adjust the white balance in Lightroom, Photoshop, or any RAW editing software. Use the white balance picker tool (looks like an eyedropper) and click on the gray card.

This will give you an exact white balance for that lighting environment. You can synchronize those white balance numbers across all of your photos. Lightroom has a copy and paste function or a "sync" button that will change adjustments in all selected photos as you go.

This is the most accurate option because it allows for “tint” adjustments for extra color accuracy.

Option 2:

Do the same as above and remember the white balance value. Then set your camera to a custom white balance matching that value. It will probably be around 3200K or 5500K depending on your lights.

Pro tip: If you have any ambient lighting from overhead or other room lights, it could contaminate the photo and skew the white balance into a weird color temperature. Try to make the room as dark as possible aside from your photo lights to avoid this. If you are using flash or have really bright photo lights, this isn't a huge concern.

Option 3:

Use your camera's built in custom white balance tool. It's different for every brand, so you will need to search for a tutorial. But the basic idea is the same. You put the gray card in the lighting of the products, take a picture, the camera analyzes it, and then sets a custom white balance. This can also be done with a white sheet of paper in a pinch.

Here is a video demonstrating the process. Remember every camera brand mau have a slightly different method.

Good white balance means accurate colors. That is important with product photography and a good value add for your clients. Just be warned, if you change the lighting even a little bit, you have to redo this process. If you bump a light or switch it out for a different one, redo your white balance calibration.

Also, some continuous lights have white balance drift, especially if they allow you to adjust the color temperature manually. Not only will the white balance change depending on the power setting, but it can also change over time. Especially if the lights are used frequently.

Move the lights, redo white balance. Change the power, redo white balance.

And if your lights are stable and on the same power all the time, I’d still redo the white balance every week or so. Personally I would do it before every shoot, but you’ll have to decide if that is worth it depending on how fast you need to turn things around. I usually do it as my first photo in the series so I can set the white balance, select all the photos, and copy the settings to all of them at once.

The nice thing about doing white balance with a gray card is that the results are display agnostic. Even if your monitor is poorly calibrated, you can be assured the white balance is accurate. And if someone says your photos are green, it will be their monitor and not your problem.

You just have to avoid doing any color specific adjustments to the images. Trust the gray card and white balance tool more than your eyeballs and display.

You can boost saturation a tad, but that is all I would mess with unless you know what you are doing. Even if the photos look a little drab or not very colorful, I would leave it alone. It sounds like the importance for this task is accuracy of color rather than making them as pretty as possible.

------------------------------

Okay, that is the question answered. Now I'd like to go through how I would build a setup to do this kind of work.

In the product photography world, this workflow is referred to as "pack shots." The idea is to create a consistent setup so you can just swap out the product one by one and speed through the shoot. It is best to control as many variables as possible so all you need to do is set the product down, take the shot, and repeat.

I'm going to show you my ideal pack shot setup with a light cube. I think it will be similar to what my follower is using. And, if not, it might help him streamline his process a bit.

A light cube is just a box made of diffusion material.

You drape a background with the color of your choice. White is usually preferred for Amazon-style pure white background photos. Though I prefer dark gray for aesthetic reasons. You just want to make sure the backdrop has that natural gravity curve so there isn't a hard line or wrinkles.

For lighting, you should get two *identical* lights. They can be desk lamps as long as they are the same and have the same light bulb inside. Then you just place them on either side of the cube. You want the ball of light on the cube to be in front of your subject.

Remember, your light source isn't your actual lights. It's the ball of light on the sides of the cube.

If you want to make it a little fancier, you can get a black or white acrylic sheet to create a reflective surface. You want it as far forward as possible and a little elevated. Here are some things I did in a simple light cube with the setup above.

Here is what the white acrylic looks like.

I placed a big book under the acrylic sheet like this.

This allowed me to hide the curve of the background and get a nice crisp transition between the acrylic and the background.

And if you do white acrylic, you can get the background to seamlessly blend.

As I said, two desk lamps will work, but if this is for a business and you want something fast, convenient, and reliable, I would suggest something more robust.

I'd probably get two daylight balanced COB (chip-on-board) LED video lights that have a Bowens mount attachment.

This Godox light is very reasonably priced for its features.

Daylight balanced means one consistent color temperature, so less chance of drift. These are very bright so you can use a quick shutter speed and you won't even need a shutter release cable (still a good idea). You also don't *need* a tripod, but you should still use one. The main advantage of bright lights is they can't be overpowered by room lights. You can be assured any overhead lights or window light will not contaminate your photo. A darker room is always preferable, but if you crank these it won't matter.

The Bowens mount allows you to place any modifier you wish on the light from softboxes to reflectors. But the standard reflector should be fine for the light cube. But if you are taking photos of tall cylinders, a couple of strip boxes might help.

Don't worry about putting the grids on. You just line them up towards the front of the light cube so you have even light from the top to the bottom of your cylinder. Again, this is optional.

Since these lights are so versatile, you can do any kind of lighting for any other photographic needs. Slap on a white umbrella and take company portraits if you want. Or you can use them as video lights to film a worker safety video.

So, here is my recommended ingredient list for a pack shot light cube setup.

Light Cube COB video light Black Plexiglass Seamless paper (color of your choice)

Colored poster board also works if you keep it from getting dinged up. And the light cube also comes with some cloth backgrounds, but watch out for wrinkles.

BONUS TIP: If you want that pure white background like in Amazon shots, add a third light from behind with no background paper. Make the light cube material your background and shine a light through it. You have to make sure it is bright enough to give you pure white, but not too bright that the light blasts your subject from the rear.

Otherwise just use a white backdrop and use Photoshop to brighten it to pure white.

Karl Taylor shows a pack shot setup without a cube, but the same principles apply. He shows you how to dial in that white but not too white background. Just imagine instead of shining a light onto a background, you are shining a light through the background (the back of the cube).

[boyheros]

finally tried to sketch out a little of how i've been imagining. the cloning machine. not too crazy or maybe it is i dont know. the base black membrane is not just a floating window i promise, it's attached to the rest of the thing and is supposed to swing down and lower into the feeder reservoir (crucially, with the part facing us right now facing upwards when it's moved parallel to the floor, as opposed to just closing it face-to-face like a laptop or something) but for some reason i'm struggling to imagine what a mechanism that could do that would look like. even though it's not thaaat complicated.

anyways. the membrane is fed the template DNA (blood is most often used) and once it accepts the sample it is swung down into the body tray and sinks into the feeder reservoir, where all the "raw materials" are i guess. i've been envisioning that the membrane frame has some sort of shutter element that can move the membrane around but i haven't figured out if i could design it to make sense mechanically yet? but the reason i want that is because once the membrane accepts the DNA sample it starts. wiggling around on it's own. and it would kinda be nasty as hell if you could see it pulling the shutters open and closed... cool right.

the reservoir is initially filled with just . raw materials that a human could be made of. fullmetal alchemist style like chemicals i guess. but as the machine gets used it eventually all grows into weird amorphous meat mess in there. it's fine for it to stay that way for a while (esp. bc base black needs to be attached to living material in order not to decay) but if you keep it too long the machine will try to self-replicate and make clones willy-nilly. and it gets more likely to be DNA contaminated. so the whole machine has to be gutted every once in a while.

hazmat suits just because yeah lots of weird human clone goo but also base black is a semi-corporeal substance meant for gluing your soul to your body. if you touch it with your skin, other organic materials like cotton fiber, or with only a thin layer covering you like latex gloves, it WILL attach to you and you WILL contaminate the whole thing. employees are even advised not to enter the room if they have open wounds of any kind cuz. the machine loves the flesh.

[rjzimmerman]

As a native of Gary, Indiana, and a former "summer employee" at U.S. Steel (to pay for my college education), I'm obviously invested in what happens to the Gary Works of U.S. Steel. This story answers several of my questions, and puts me on the "no" side of this proposal. Excerpt from this story from Grist:

U.S. Steel, once the world’s largest company of any kind, can take substantial credit for the growth of American industrial power in the 20th century. But in recent decades, it’s been shuttering mills and shedding workers. Now, the iconic Pittsburgh-based manufacturer is set to be acquired by a Japanese steelmaker, Nippon Steel — if the federal government allows the deal to proceed.

Earlier this month, reports emerged that the Biden administration is preparing to block the nearly $15 billion merger on the grounds that it presents a threat to America’s national security interests. The United Steelworkers union opposes it, fearing future layoffs and weaker labor protections under new ownership. So do both major candidates for president, who are vying for votes in the Rust Belt. Supporters of the deal, like the Washington Post editorial board and the nonpartisan think tank The Atlantic Council, have cast the politicians’ opposition as election-season pandering, and argued that the national security rationale on which Biden may block it is flimsy. But one area, in which the question of whether the merger goes through could be particularly consequential, has gone largely unremarked upon in the conversation: what it means for the climate.

Some environmentalists say the deal could slow the crucial progress that the steel industry must make in order to decarbonize. Their argument stems from the fact that both U.S. Steel and Nippon Steel have been slow, compared to industry peers, to adopt the most impactful decarbonization technologies, even with federal funding available in the U.S. to do so.

The most common process by which primary steel is produced is massively carbon-intensive. The reasons for this lie in chemistry. Steel is made from iron, but the form in which iron ore occurs in the Earth’s crust is mostly iron oxide (similar to rust). In order to get usable iron from it, one needs to remove the oxygen. For centuries, iron-makers have accomplished this by using coke, a fuel made from coal, which is heated alongside iron ore in a blast furnace at such high temperatures that the iron melts into a liquid while the oxygen bonds with the carbon in the coke and produces carbon dioxide.

Blast furnaces are responsible for the lion’s share of carbon emissions from steelmaking, and the inextricability of carbon emissions from the ironmaking process is a large part of the reason why, overall, steelmaking is responsible for 7 percent of global carbon emissions, and a quarter of industrial carbon emissions. These percentages will likely grow as other sectors of the economy are decarbonized. In the U.S., demand for steel is also expected to grow dramatically over the next decade to provide the raw material of the industrial growth sparked by the Inflation Reduction Act and the planned buildout of clean energy infrastructure and transmission lines. For these reasons, the task of decarbonizing steel is as urgent as it is difficult and expensive.

Fortunately, there is a solution on offer that has recently become viable due to new technological advances — and one that the Biden administration has sought to heavily subsidize: replacing blast furnaces with a process called direct reduction, and using hydrogen as a reducing agent in place of carbon, ultimately discharging water rather than carbon dioxide. “The chemistry is sound, it’s being built, it’s been piloted and demonstrated,” said Yong Kwon, a senior advisor with the Sierra Club’s Industrial Transformation Campaign. “The question is now: Will industries adopt it?”

There are eight operating steel mills in the United States that make “primary” steel (newly created steel, rather than the generally lower-quality “secondary” steel produced from scrap metal). Three are owned by U.S. Steel. Cleveland-Cliffs, the owner of the other five, has also made an offer to buy U.S. Steel and has been much more proactive in making the shift to greener production. “The Department of Energy has made available a great deal of money to do partnerships with industry to demonstrate the value of decarbonized projects,” said Todd Tucker, director of the industrial policy and trade program at the Roosevelt Institute. Both Cleveland-Cliffs and U.S. Steel have availed themselves of such funding to embark on decarbonization programs. U.S. Steel has partnered with the Department of Energy on carbon capture projects at several of their steel mills, and funded research and development of hydrogen-based ironmaking technology. The company also plans to install a carbon capture program at a blast furnace at its steel mill in Gary, Indiana, which it says will turn up to 50,000 metric tons of carbon dioxide annually into limestone — a tiny fraction of that facility’s overall emissions. But critics note that U.S. Steel has yet to take a step as ambitious as its rival by actually replacing one of its blast furnaces with direct reduction of iron.

The stakes of the potential U.S. Steel-Nippon Steel merger are perhaps best illustrated in the city of Gary, Indiana, which was built in 1906 by U.S. Steel to house workers at its Gary Works steel mill. That mill is home to the country’s largest and most carbon-emitting blast furnace — and it’s nearing the end of its lifespan. This situation hypothetically presents the furnace’s owner with an ideal opportunity to switch to a cleaner technology, with federal funding on the table to do so. But in August, Nippon Steel announced its prospective plans for Gary Works, which include a $300 million investment in relining the furnace to extend its lifespan for another 20 years. With this announcement, Kwon said, “Not only have they back in Japan not pursued solutions that we feel are responsible; they’ve now explicitly come out and said that they’re not going to pursue the solution that is on the table for reducing the climate change and public health harms that are currently produced by the iron-making process.”

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Stagnant petrochemical sector faces mounting pressure in Brazil

Market downturn, surging imports, and high gas costs threaten to accelerate plant closures nationwide

The global petrochemical industry’s atypical downturn has heightened the risk of plant closures in Brazil. Increasing imports, which now account for 45% of the country’s apparent consumption, are exacerbating the competitiveness gap between Brazilian and imported products, largely due to the high costs of raw materials and energy domestically.

Globally, the trend of plant closures—already prominent in Europe, where Shell and Petroineos plan to shutter refineries in Germany and Scotland by 2025—has reached Brazil. Domestic producers like Unigel and Solvay (owner of Rhodia) have halted operations, and industry leader Braskem is reportedly reviewing its strategy amid oversupply fueled by China and the United States.

“The Brazilian chemical industry is under immense pressure. Its deficit is widening, petrochemicals are losing polyethylene production and market share, and even worse, investments and the utilization of installed capacity are continually shrinking,” said João Luiz Zuñeda, founding partner of MaxiQuim consultancy.

Unigel, facing its most significant financial crisis, recently suspended operations at two fertilizer plants leased from Petrobras, citing unprofitable operations after international urea prices plummeted. High natural gas prices—its key raw material—further contributed to losses. One plant briefly resumed operations, but the future remains uncertain.

Continue reading.

[sagent-of-chaos]

those are amazing photos bru

how do you get that beautiful hazy effect

what camera do you use!?

I use the Sony Cybershot DSCN1 8.1MP Digital Camera with 3x Optical Zoom.

These were manufactured between 2006-2009. It is very dated with visual quality and battery comical compared to modern phone cameras. It is suboptimal for documentation purposes but has an artistic flair for capturing certain colors and moods and is small enough to fit in my pocket and take with me everywhere.

In grade school, I used this camera to document family vacations and take photos for my school yearbook so it also has a sentimental value lost in modern camera equipment. Material is content - your relationship with medium and tools isn't for nothing.

The camera doesn't let me manually manipulate things like ISO and shutter speed as in newer equipment so I have to trick the lens into doing what I want. To bring in more light I focus on something dark then turn the camera towards what I'm shooting, and the opposite for a darker shot by focusing on a lamp or bright light.

Usually, a blurry effect happens by accident when I focus on a nearby light source to shoot something that is far away which screws up the depth of field. If I want to fix it I refocus on another light to make it sharper.

The radiant glow in nighttime shots is just how the camera records light. It's one of the other things I like about the tech. It poorly captures or completely misses certain aspects of the scene I'm shooting but enhances others.

Sometimes an accidental haze blurs the camera during rain shoots from the humidity and water hitting the lens such as with orange knobs. The water caused the camera to start malfunctioning, though, and I missed the opportunity for a lot more pictures as the battery died and the camera became too blurry to distinguish anything.

Every photo is a raw, unedited file so the effects are achieved incidentally during the process.

[betterhomeindia]

How to Choose the Best Furniture Manufacturers for Custom Designs

When it comes to presenting your home or office, one size does not fit all. All have unique tastes, space barriers and functionality requirements. This is the place where a custom-designed furniture comes. Choosing the right furniture manufacturer can create all differences between general results and a location that reflects your style, comfort and utility.

If you are located in Gujarat and are looking for the best furniture manufacturers in Ahmedabad, there are many options - but some careful consideration is required to choose the right. This guide needs to know how to select the best manufacturer for custom furniture, especially if you need to know how to search for options for a modular furniture manufacturer in Ahmedabad. We will also find out how reputed brands like better home India are adapted and moving forward in modular furniture solutions.

Why Go for Custom Furniture?

Before diving into the way the correct manufacturer, let's understand why custom furniture is a smart option:

• To suit your location: ideal for odd -sized rooms, compact spaces or large open layouts.

• Individual taste reflects: you get to choose the material, color, finish and design.

• Multi-functional options: useful for modern lifestyle with space-saving needs.

• Long -term investment: Custom furniture is often strong and more durable.

So if you are constructing your dream house or installing a stylish office in Ahmedabad, it becomes necessary to cooperate with a skilled furniture manufacturer.

Step-by-Step Guide to Choosing the Best Furniture Manufacturers in Ahmedabad

1. Know Your Needs Clearly

Start with a list of what you need - wardrobes, office desks, TV units, beds, modular kitchens, or workstation. Do you want something traditional or smooth and modern? Knowing your needs helps you select the right furniture manufacturers in Ahmedabad who are experts of special items.

2. Check Their Experience and Expertise

Experience matters in making furniture. A manufacturer with years of experience understands how to work with various materials like wood, laminate, MDF and metal. They are also likely to deal with the needs of a variety of customer.

For example, better Home India has a proven track record in giving high quality, customized and modular furniture solutions. They combine design expertise with solid craftsmanship, giving them a reliable name in the furniture industry in Ahmedabad.

3. Evaluate Design Capabilities

A good custom furniture manufacturer should be able to provide you design assistance. It also includes:

• 3D visualization or sketch

• Design consultation

• Suggestions on layouts and content

• Eyewitness with your internal themes

When looking for a modular furniture manufacturer in Ahmedabad, make sure that they can personalize modular units according to your room size, workflow (for offices), and according to utility.

4. Look at the Materials and Workmanship

Ask about the types of materials they used. A iconic manufacturer will always use quality -like quality materials, proper tearing, premium hardware and plywood with environmentally friendly finish.

Also, if possible, go to their workshop or showroom. Check the quality of finishing, the durability of the joints and the accuracy of the work. Brands such as Better Home India are known for maintaining raw materials and high standards of final output.

5. Ask About Customization Options

Adaptation should only go beyond dimensions. A good manufacturer should provide you the option:

• Design styles (modern, classic, rustic, industrial)

• Material and finish (mats, gloss, veneer, laminate, etc.)

• Color and texture combination

• Built facilities like light, storage compartments and sliding mechanisms

Like better Home India, leading furniture manufacturers in Ahmedabad specialize in modular designs where you can customize everything from drawer placement to shutter style.

6. Delivery Timelines and Installation

Custom furniture takes time, but does not mean unnecessary delay. Ask the manufacturer for clear deadline - from design approval to delivery and installation. The delay can affect your move-in plan or interior functions.

Better Home India is known for its transparent timeline commitments and uninterrupted installation process, causing customers to face minimal disruption.

7. Budget Transparency

Custom furniture does not have to break the bank. Choose a manufacturer who provides:

• Apparent pricing estimates

• Item quotes

• no hidden charges

A good modular furniture manufacturer in Ahmedabad will explain the cost difference between various finishes, materials and hardware, helping you make informed decisions based on your budget.

8. After-Sales Support and Warranty

Don't forget to ask about the post -sales support. Does the manufacturer provide hardware and warranty when finished? Do they later help in repair or upgradation?

Better Home India such as reliable brands often provide later sales service, adding long -term value to your investment.

Why Better Home India is a Trusted Choice

Among many furniture manufacturers in Ahmedabad, Better Home India stands out for several reasons:

• Adaptation expertise: They understand the importance of space, style and utility in Indian homes and offices.

• Modular expertise: Their modular furniture range is perfect for modern life and working places.

• Top-quality material: Everything from wood to goods, everything is premium and long.

• Transparent procedure: clear time -line, fair pricing and supporting design counseling.

• Customer-focused approach: The team listens, suggests, and distributes what you really need.

Whether you are presenting your bedroom, kitchen, office, or showroom, better home India provides an analog solution with a commitment to quality and design.

Conclusion

Choosing the right furniture manufacturers in Ahmedabad for your custom design needs can increase your form, functionality and comfort. From smart wardrobes to modular office cabin, ensure working with the right manufacturer that you get durable, stylish and personal results.

If you are looking for a reliable modular furniture manufacturer in Ahmedabad, Better Home India is worth considering a name. With the right plan and the right partner, your furniture journey can be as beautiful as you are making.

[veneerganesh]

Veneer Ganesh: Trusted Plywood Manufacturer in Jharkhand Delivering Quality & Innovation

Leading Plywood Manufacturer in Jharkhand with a Legacy of Excellence

When it comes to premium-quality plywood manufacturing in Jharkhand, Veneer Ganesh has emerged as a name synonymous with trust, strength, and superior craftsmanship. With a strong footprint across Eastern India, the company has become one of the most sought-after plywood manufacturers serving the growing needs of the construction, furniture, and interior design industries.

Delivering Quality that Speaks for Itself

At Veneer Ganesh, every plywood sheet is a result of careful selection of raw materials, advanced processing techniques, and uncompromising quality checks. The company manufactures a wide range of plywood, including:

Commercial Plywood

Waterproof and Marine Plywood

Shuttering Plywood

Decorative Veneer-faced Panels

This wide portfolio makes Veneer Ganesh a one-stop solution for both bulk buyers and customized orders across Jharkhand and nearby regions.

Modern Manufacturing Facilities Near Jharkhand

With state-of-the-art production units strategically located to serve Jharkhand, Veneer Ganesh is able to meet rising demand efficiently. Their facilities are equipped with modern machinery and staffed by experienced professionals who ensure every product meets industry standards and customer expectations.

Preferred by Builders, Carpenters & Designers Alike

Whether it’s for home interiors in Ranchi, office spaces in Jamshedpur, or commercial construction in Dhanbad, Veneer Ganesh plywood is known for:

Durability and dimensional stability

Resistance to moisture, borer, and termites

Smooth surface finish ideal for laminates and polish

Competitive pricing and reliable supply

Eco-Friendly Approach

In addition to focusing on product excellence, Veneer Ganesh also upholds its environmental responsibilities. All wood used is responsibly sourced from certified forests, and the manufacturing process follows sustainable practices, minimizing waste and emissions.

Conclusion

With its unwavering focus on quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction, Veneer Ganesh has become a leading plywood manufacturer in Jharkhand. Whether you're a furniture maker, architect, dealer, or contractor, you can count on Veneer Ganesh to deliver plywood that performs — today and for years to come.

Visit:- https://www.ganeshveneer.com/plywood-jharkhand.php

[sovereignsimulacrumgiant]

"The Morning I Found Trust in Silver: My Journey with Aman Ornaments"

By a silver jewellery buyer from Hyderabad

I’ve been in the business of silver for almost two decades now. Long enough to know when a polish is hiding something, and when a handshake means what it says. My shop, nestled in the Old City of Hyderabad, isn’t flashy. It’s not the kind of place people stumble upon from Instagram or follow for influencer drops. But ask any seasoned local jeweller where to find pieces that last—jewellery that doesn’t flake, doesn’t lie, and carries the weight of craft—and my shop’s name usually comes up.

That kind of trust doesn’t come easy.

Over the years, I’ve worked with so many vendors—some consistent, some brilliant but flaky, some gone overnight. And like many in the trade, I had developed a kind of weary pragmatism: keep your expectations low, and your margins tight. That was, until I met Aman Ornaments.

This isn’t a sales pitch. I’m not here to tell you they’re perfect, or that every delivery was a dream. But I will say this—they changed how I look at partnership in business. And that’s not a small thing.

It started in 2021, right after the second lockdown eased. The market was jittery. Silver prices were dancing like a man possessed, and supply chains were full of excuses. I had pre-Diwali orders pending, and my old supplier in Rajkot had ghosted me after 10 years. Ten years. Just like that.

One of my clients—a designer who sold her work through exhibitions and boutique pop-ups—called me in a panic. Her entire wedding collection depended on my delivery. I remember standing in the warehouse at 7:45 PM, with the shutters half down, wondering if this business I had built from scratch was finally slipping through my fingers.

That night, I opened my little black diary—the one with scrawled supplier numbers, notes in shorthand, and names passed down through old trade fairs. I saw a name I’d jotted down months ago: Aman Ornaments – Mumbai.

I didn’t remember who gave me the contact, but I made the call.

The man who answered didn’t sound like someone trying to close a deal. He listened first. Patiently. Asked a few quiet questions. Asked if I’d be willing to take a video call. Within 20 minutes, I was looking at trays of finished pieces, raw materials, factory floors, and artisans at work, all through a slightly grainy video feed. It wasn’t glossy. It wasn’t staged. But it was real. And in that moment, I realized I was looking at something I hadn’t seen in a while in this industry: integrity.

Over the next few days, we finalized the designs, materials, and shipping. The prices weren’t the lowest I’d seen—but they weren’t inflated either. More importantly, the clarity was absolute. Weight margins, silver purity (every piece hallmarked), timelines—everything was spelled out without me having to push. By the end of the call, I knew I was dealing with one of the most reliable silver dealers I’d encountered in years.

The order arrived a day early.

That first shipment—it was like rediscovering the reason I’d started this business. The pieces had weight, balance, and that quiet, elegant detailing that only comes from people who love what they do. The anklets had that fluid jingle. The chains were seamless. Even the packaging had care in it—not expensive, but thoughtful.

What I didn’t expect, though, was the way my own clients responded.

People who usually walked into the shop, scanned a few trays, and left without a word, started asking questions:

“Where’s this from?”

“Who made this?”

“Do you have more like this?”

My Diwali season that year broke every previous record. Not because of an ad campaign, or a celebrity shoutout. But because quality spoke for itself. Quietly. Confidently.

As months passed, I started working more closely with Aman Ornaments. What stood out was not just the quality of silver, but the way they treated collaboration. I wasn’t just placing orders—I was being heard. They asked for feedback. Sent photos of new mold samples. Invited me to visit their karigar team. It felt like being part of something bigger, more rooted. Not just buying and selling, but creating.

That’s rare in this business.

I learned that Aman Ornaments doesn’t just operate as a seller—they see themselves as part of their buyer’s journey. They know what it means when a consignment is delayed in October. They understand that one broken chain can cost a jeweller his reputation. They don’t disappear after payment. They check in. They follow up. They ask how the pieces moved. And if something goes wrong—and yes, once or twice it has—they fix it. Fast. Without drama.

Last year, I took a train to Mumbai and finally visited their manufacturing unit. It was tucked away in a quiet industrial part of the city—not the kind of place tourists would find. I saw workers hunched over lathes and soldering torches. I saw a woman carefully polishing toe rings under a yellow bulb. I saw trays of raw silver, untouched, gleaming with that particular white fire that makes our trade what it is.

And I saw pride. Quiet, working-class pride.

That day, over chai and khari biscuits, the founder told me something that stuck:

"We don’t want to be the biggest. Just the most trusted. That’s enough to last generations."

I believed him.

Today, my business has grown—not just in numbers, but in reputation. I’ve started shipping to smaller towns where no jeweller used to deliver. My daughter, who recently joined me after finishing her MBA, says we need to “scale” and “diversify.” I nod and smile. But in my heart, I know the real secret of growth in this trade: build trust that doesn’t tarnish.

Aman Ornaments gave me that trust.

In an industry full of sparkle but often short on truth, they’ve stood out not because they shout the loudest, but because they quietly deliver what they promise—every single time.

And in doing so, they reminded me why I fell in love with silver in the first place. Not for the shine. But for the soul.

[armstrongsteelbuildings]

American Steel, Rising Prices: Why Domestic Costs Are Still Climbing

If you’re planning to invest in steel buildings and structures, it’s important to understand how rising material costs might affect your budget. The price of American steel has been climbing, which can drive up manufacturing expenses and ultimately increase costs for both builders and buyers.

So, what’s behind these price increases? Let’s take a closer look at the key factors and explore what you can do to manage the impact on your project.

Rising tariffs on steel imports

Steel building fabricators began preparing for higher costs when the current administration imposed a 25% tariff on all aluminum and steel imports. With no broad exclusions or exemptions, the tariffs have pushed up supply and operational expenses, especially for manufacturers that depend on imported steel.

Reliance on foreign suppliers

Many companies involved in steel building and structures still rely heavily on overseas suppliers — in fact, imported finished steel made up roughly 24% of US steel consumption in 2024, according to the American Iron & Steel Institute. As tariffs raise the cost of these imports, manufacturers are turning more to domestic suppliers. This shift could tighten supply and push prices even higher, though it may also prompt US steelmakers to increase production. Even so, most experts believe the rising costs are unlikely to create a large wave of new steel manufacturing jobs.

Boosting local steel producers

The goal of the tariffs is to support struggling domestic producers. But restarting shuttered plants or building new facilities to replace imports won’t happen overnight. Until then, limited supply may continue to drive up the price of industrial metals in the U.S.

The impact on industries and the US economy

While American steelmakers may raise prices in response to higher demand, downstream industries are starting to feel the squeeze. Sectors like machinery, automotive manufacturing, and construction are facing increased raw material costs — adding pressure to projects that rely on affordable steel building and structures.

What can you do about rising steel prices?

One way to save money is to lock in your steel building order with a trusted fabricator like Armstrong Steel. Call 800-345-4610 or visit their website to price your building right away.

[jagramjiply]

Explore The Top 10 Shuttering Plywood Manufacturers in India – Jagramji Plywood

We are a renowned Top 10 Shuttering Plywood Manufacturers in India. These plywood sheets are provided in different sizes and shapes as per the client's requirements. Our offered products are manufactured using the latest technology and high-grade raw materials. These products are highly demanded and appreciated by our clients and are available at market-leading prices. Our high-GSM super resin impregnated films can further improve the surface and life of plywood by utilizing the latest technology. As one of the most trusted shuttering plywood manufacturers in Yamunanagar, we also have fully automated presses based on PLCs and thermodynamic sensors to ensure the highest level of quality.

To know more information about our products, you can directly contact us at +91-7900608167 or visit our official website:- https://www.jagramjiply.com/blog/top-10-shuttering-plywood-manufacturers-in-india/

[navnir]

The rise of fair faced concrete in Hyderabad: Aesthetic and structural advantages

Summary 

Fair faced concrete is becoming a popular architectural trend in Hyderabad, known for its raw, clean, and minimalist aesthetic. It involves leaving concrete surfaces exposed without additional finishes like paint or plaster, offering both visual appeal and cost efficiency. The finish complements both modern and traditional designs, making it versatile for residential, commercial, and public spaces. Beyond its looks, fair faced concrete is tough, weather-resistant, and requires minimal maintenance. It also shortens construction timelines and reduces material waste, making it an eco-friendly option. Achieving a flawless finish relies heavily on precision formwork systems, with companies like Nav Nirman providing reliable solutions. As sustainability and contemporary design gain importance, this durable and efficient building method is reshaping Hyderabad’s architectural scene.

Stroll through Hyderabad today, and you may sense something quietly stunning going on in construction circles. No, it’s not merely the gleaming glass exteriors or dramatic new forms in office towers — it’s the raw, clean, and simply chic appearance of fair faced concrete. This new trend in construction is spreading fast throughout the city, and we can see why. From upscale residential blocks to modern office spaces, public structures, and more, this finish appears everywhere, harmonizing functionality with a trendy, minimalist style. So what on earth is fair faced concrete, and why has it suddenly become so trendy in Hyderabad construction circles? Dive in!

Fair Faced Concrete

What is Fair Faced Concrete? Fair faced concrete simply means concrete surfaces that are left uncovered and untouched when formwork comes down. No painting, plastering, no tiling — merely the plain, unadulterated texture of concrete itself. It’s a design aesthetic as well as a design requirement. It not only gives a smooth, warehouse-like look, but also saves the hassle of extra finishing materials, time, and construction expenses.

As per experts at Nav Nirman, one of India’s reliable formwork manufacturers, a perfect fair faced finish needs accuracy along with high-quality concrete shuttering systems. Surface texture, alignment, as well as consistency, are all dependent upon formwork, making it a most critical factor in concrete construction today.

Aesthetics That Speak for Themselve

Let’s be real — concrete hasn’t traditionally been known to be visually appealing. It was traditionally a coarse, practical substance best suited to be covered over by paint or tiles. Times, however, have moved on. Architects and builders now appreciate natural-looking fair faced concrete, admiring its warm colors, interesting textures, and subtle sophistication.

One of the most significant aesthetic benefits of fair faced concrete in Hyderabad is how easily it suits both contemporary and classical design variations. Whether a modern-day café in Jubilee Hills or an office tower in Hitech City, this finish has a dramatic appearance that feels both modern yet ageless. No two surfaces are ever identical, either, allowing every project to have its own unique identity.

Strong, Hard-Wearing, and LowAlthough fair faced concrete is visually appealing, its utility makes it a favorite among project managers and builders alike. Fair faced concrete may have a pretty face, but it’s also extremely strong, weather-resistant, and durable. It withstands Hyderabad’s fluctuating weather patterns, from extreme summer heat to deluge monsoon rains, exceptionally well.

Due to its natural durability, it needs little upkeep over time. Unlike both peeled wall paint and cracked plaster, fair faced concrete remains sharp-looking with little effort. It’s corrosion-resistant, mold-resistant, and resistant to common wear and tear, so it’s a highly desirable concrete work option for both residential homes and commercial applications.

Saving Resources and TimeAnother significant benefit that accounts for its growing popularity is its efficiency in construction. Since its end-surface appearance is concrete, builders are able to bypass extra layers such as plastering and painting, which saves money and time.

Still, a perfect fair faced finish also largely depends upon concrete shuttering and formwork systems adopted during pouring. Only top-class, precisely made formwork provides a smooth, uniform surface along with a clean joint line. That’s where formwork companies like Nav Nirman help, offering state-of-the-art formwork solutions ensuring ideal results every single time. Being among the top formwork companies in India, they’ve assisted numerous projects in Hyderabad and elsewhere attain that ideal, smooth, fair faced appearance.

A green, Environmentally Friendly SolutionWe cannot overlook the benefits to the environment, either. Fair faced concrete minimizes the need for additional finishing materials such as paint, tile, and adhesives — much of which are toxic to the environment. By reducing these extra layers, builders minimize waste and lower the carbon footprint of a project.Furthermore, since fair faced concrete is strong and durable, structures made from it have increased longevity and lower maintenance requirements, resulting in fewer repairs and replacements in the longer term. As sustainability in building continues to become a reality, rather than a fad, in today’s world, fair faced concrete provides yet another compelling option for contemporary construction in Hyderabad.

Conclusion : Concrete Has Never Been More Appealing

 So, whether you are a resident who has been fantasizing about having an edgy, urban-style house or a builder who wishes to impart a bold, modern identity to your commercial structure, fair faced concrete in Hyderabad is something to definitely think about. With its synergistic mix of beauty, durability, and cost advantages, no wonder this finish has become a top pick among the city’s rapidly changing design scene.

And if you’re searching for top-notch, tried-and-tested formwork solutions to turn your fair faced concrete dreams into reality, you may want to look at Nav Nirman. Their cutting-edge systems are crafted specifically to enable builders and architects to deliver flawless finishes, every time — a testament to how, sometimes, it’s what goes on behind the scenes that really makes the magic work.

[civilguidelines]

When planning a residential or commercial construction project, calculating the cost of an RCC (Reinforced Cement Concrete) roof is a crucial step. For a 400 square feet RCC roof, the cost can vary significantly based on factors such as location, material quality, labor charges, and current market prices of raw materials. Below is a comprehensive, detailed breakdown of the RCC roof construction cost per square foot and overall cost estimation for a 400 sq. ft. slab.

Understanding RCC Roof Construction

An RCC roof comprises cement concrete reinforced with steel bars (rebar). This combination provides the strength and durability necessary for structural integrity. Typically, the slab includes formwork (shuttering), reinforcement, concrete mix (usually M20 or M25), labor, and curing.

Factors Affecting the Cost of RCC Roof Construction

To accurately estimate the cost, we must examine the following cost components:

1. Concrete Material Cost (Cement, Sand, Aggregate)

The most common concrete mix used for residential slabs is M20 (1:1.5:3) or M25. Here's an approximate material requirement per cubic meter for M20:

Cement: 8 bags (each 50 kg)

Sand (Fine Aggregate): 0.44 cubic meters

Aggregate (Coarse): 0.88 cubic meters

Water: As per the water-cement ratio (usually 0.5)

For a 400 sq. ft. slab with a thickness of 5 inches (0.125 meters), the total volume is: 400 sq. ft. = 37.16 sq. meters; 37.16 x 0.125 = 4.645 cubic meters

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