#beige rectangle tile flooring

[mal-educado]

Dining Room Great Room Austin Great room - mid-sized coastal porcelain tile great room idea with beige walls and no fireplace

[vintageretrolove]

Kitchen - Contemporary Kitchen Large modern galley kitchen with a concrete floor and an island, an undermount sink, flat-panel cabinets, white cabinets, concrete countertops, and a window backsplash.

[oldmanweldon]

Austin Bathroom

[rinaedin]

Contemporary Dining Room - Dining Room

[oceandiagonale]

Note: the big fence isn't actually a fence, it's just a visual reference for me to see which way the door swings open 😂

a LOT more acnh references + image descriptions under the cut

(images: guzma's room made in acnh, from various angles. most of the things from his canon room are still there -- round end tables, an iron shelf, his bed, his throne/chair, several small dressers, nice lamps, and paint-spattered walls+paintings -- but they're a lot more organized.

the bed is against the wall bookended by two dressers, the iron shelf is against the wall, and his chair is being used at an actual desk. there are small sitting areas in the upper middle and bottom right corners of the room now, and spaces are separated visually by a variety of rugs. it's the same components as before, but more people can hang out in the space now.)

(images: main part of floor 2F of the Ultra Flare base at aether, made in acnh. layout is a square instead of a rectangle due to size limitations, and the square is divided into 4 even sections: a gaudy, gold-covered bedroom for Ghetsis, an equally gaudy "common area" that's also for ghetsis but has a table in it, a room chock-full of gadgets and tech, including tools and specs of Celebi for Cyrus, and a cramped, but still cozy, office for Archie and Maxie, which crams in two desks and a couch. every single room has a pager on the wall. notably, archie and maxie's office is the only one of this bunch that has a security camera in it.)

(images: back part of UF base floor 2F, which consists of Giovanni's office, storage/employee training room, and assembly/meeting room. The walls are all red, except for in the assembly room, which has stark robotic walls.

the office has dark tile floors, a desk with two chairs at it, a small seating area, and a Team Rocket banner and paintings of Giovanni's team on the walls, much like his office and gym in Pokemon Let's Go. like the others' offices, Gio's has a pager on the wall next to his desk.

the training room has fluorescent lighting, a tatami floor, filing cabinets, a fax/printer machine, a whiteboard, a projector, and many black folding chairs in it. there are iron bars along the walls of the office and training room, indicating that they can close in the event of a lockdown. there are also security cameras everywhere except for Gio's office.

The assembly room is full of all the acnh machines and gears available, as well as a red control desk.)

(images: the main area of floor 3F, again confined in shape by limitations. there is a fancy white/golf dining area with a long table and red carpet and spiral chandelier for Lusamine, and a small kitchen area meant to be used by everyone, which includes a nice hanging wooden light, kitchen island with bar stools, and fridge.

there's also a break room area, which has clearly only been used by Guzma -- he's dragged in a pinball machine, pool table, and dartboard, and Team Skull brand clothes and paintings are scattered on the walls, couch, and in the closet. he's also tucked a hammock into a corner by the vending machines. understandable, since he doesn't have his own office. there's a pager in the break room, and security cameras in each area -- though there are blind spots, such as guzma's table directly underneath the camera in the break room.)

(images: the back area of floor 3F, which consists of Lysandre's office, storage room, and meeting room. the walls are all black except for a red accent wall in the meeting room, and there is only one security camera in the storage room and one in the hallway.

The storage room is full to the brim with papers, broken machinery, filing cabinets, and boxes. there's a ladder and a moving cart in it for ease of access, as well as a clipboard with a checklist on it. there's a pager in the room, as well as a broom+dustpan set on the wall. it's a veritable treasure trove of information, which guzma has access to as the person lugging it all around. the room has an ugly beige argyle rug, and harsh fluorescent lighting.

Lysandre's office has a modern red-wavy-striped rug in it. on one side, he has a nice desk with a golden tree next to it, a desktop computer, a coffee cup, and a filing cabinet. on the other side, he has a large machine + red button, and a sturdy project table with a blueprint and an espresso machine on it. there are tools on the wall, but also a nice painting and cabinet. Lysandre has his own pager.

The meeting room is a stark place, with only one desk, screens all over the walls, and a clock on the wall. another pager, obviously, and dramatic lighting. This is the place that Lysandre and the other villains initially interviewed Guzma to join Ultra Flare, and the lack of other chairs or comforts -- or anything, really -- is the most notable feature of it. Lysandre clearly wants to make anyone who comes into the room as uncomfortable as possible.)

[theroseceleste]

Pilot Miguel - Part 2 - Trouble in Paradise

Hola! You've landed in Acapulco, Mexico. Now begins your two days of fun in the sun before flying back to Nueva York.

Word count - 3022

Not much in the way of any triggering content, apart from alcohol consumption.

This fic will have smut, but not in this chapter. Minors DNI

Enjoy! xx

Part 1

If you enjoy this fic, please consider liking, commenting or re-blogging. Many thanks xx

You have never been to Acapulco before, but you definitely want to come back again if you get to stay in this hotel next time. The next two days are going to be perfect, full of sun, sand and sea.

The first thing you do when you get into your room is chuck your uniform off, remove that thick purple jacket and change into something much lighter and free.

Your room is brightly decorated with pale green walls. Light wooden headboards crown not one but two double beds. You even get a balcony with a sea view. Paradise…

Stepping out onto the balcony, your soft, bare feet pad onto the smooth beige tiles, heated by the afternoon sun. The coastal breeze whips your long beach dress around your legs. With your hair still up, the warm, rushing wind caresses the skin on your neck like a lover’s tender kiss. You could get used to this.

To catch up on a much needed intake of vitamin D, you sit on the balcony and soak up the sun for a short while as you connect your phone to the hotel’s WiFi.

Taking a few snaps, you post them up on Instagram for your jealous friends at home to drool over. You smirk as you hit the post button, knowing full well, your phone will buzz constantly with notifications in a few moments time.

The prominent sound of the waves crashing along the sandy beach fills you with joy. It’s a constant noise that relaxes you. With each wave coming in and ebbing away again, it’s as though the sea is breathing, deep, long breaths, in and out.

You close your eyes as you enjoy your moment of peace…

(Thirty minutes prior)

Captain O’Hara grimaces as he steps out of the bus as he and the crew arrive at the hotel. While the rest of his colleagues gawp and stare at what they consider an impressive hotel, he regards it more of the opposite. A large rectangle-like building with a slope down one side, gives him the impression that it’s a modern take on an ancient Mayan pyramid, how… original... But, it’s a place to stay at least. He can shut himself in his room and not talk to anyone for two days.

A chorus of rollalong bags fills the air as the entire crew make their way inside the hotel. Some girls talk excitedly while he notices others catching a glimpse at him. He keeps his head down, looking at the polished grey tiled flooring as they approach the reception.

While you check in, the Captain approaches another available hotel receptionist after they call him forward. A few moments later he’s presented with a room key and a door number.

“Gracias,” he mumbles to the person behind the front desk and moves off, to go looking for the elevator.

He sees you disappear behind a set of closing lift doors as you get your room key before him. It isn’t long before another lift arrives.

Stepping out of the elevator, he turns the corner and sees you enter your room. Your door clicks shut as he looks down at his room number, 928.

925, 926, 927… 928… Huh…

His room is right next to yours.

He inserts his key into the slot and a green light flashes. Then, he pulls it out and turns the door handle to enter.

The door slams behind him as he lets go of his case. His long fingers negotiate his golden buttons on his jacket, pulling it away once it’s undone. Then he tugs at his tie, loosening it so he can yank it over his head.

After being out in the stifling Mexican sun, his crisp, white shirt clings to his skin uncomfortably. One by one, each button is undone, revealing his perfectly toned chest. The cool, conditioned air kisses his skin, soothing that gross sticky feeling.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, another email no doubt. Unlocking his phone with one hand, his other unfastens his belt buckle.

An email from his lawyer is the latest notification on his screen. His considerably sized thumb presses on it to read the message.

“Dear Mr. O’Hara.

We’re writing to inform you that as of this morning, the court has approved yours and Mrs. O’Hara’s divorce agreement.

We thank you for choosing us to represent you…”

The email continues but he stops taking it in. His hand lowers, the phone slips from his long fingers and falls onto the bed.

That’s it. It’s official. Divorced and not even forty - that’s still a few years away. He feels a total failure. He knew this email would arrive today, but it still doesn’t soften the blow.

Being a pilot means spending a lot of time away from home. When he was dating his now ex-wife, she was aware of his career and even embraced it. However, it seems a few years down the line, she wasn’t quite as prepared for it as she thought.

Despite her changing her mind on what she wanted in their marriage, he still feels he was a disappointment. It’s not that he didn’t try in his relationship with her; on days that he was home, he took his wife out on dates, or even went away for a couple of days. But she wanted more than what he could provide, despite making it plain to her from the get go.

He thought that a change in airline would do him some good, new company, new people… So far, not the best start. Unlucky for him that the court’s verdict on his divorce settlement coincides with his first day at his new job.

Kicking his smart, black shoes off, across the floor, he strips off completely and ambles into the hotel room’s ensuite. His defined muscles flex with every lazy footfall. Shortly after, the pattering sound of water hitting the shower tray echoes out from the bathroom as he has a much needed soak and freshening up session.

Peter waves at you as you enter the bar. Earlier, you arranged to sit, eat and drink with him instead of being a major party animal like the rest of the crew. It’s not your style and it isn’t Peter’s either, not any more anyway. He’s married and has a little girl at home, and feels that getting hideously drunk and dancing into the early hours of the morning is no longer appropriate. His head thanks him for that the morning after while the rest of the crew hide away in dark rooms feeling ill.

He taps his room keycard on the waxed table as you approach and sit.

“Hotel’s great isn’t it?” he asks as he watches you take in the surroundings.

The bar and restaurant is on the third floor. Windows on the inside, show the tops of the palm trees growing on the first floor in the lobby. Wooden support beams are dotted between tables.

“I love it. Definitely want to come back here again,” you reply as you tuck your chair in further under the table.

“Certainly makes it worth putting up with a hellishly boring flight with the new Captain.”

You frown sympathetically.

“That bad huh?”

Peter gives a laboured sigh.

“The dude hates speaking sentences longer than one word. And when he has no choice in having a conversation, he’s an ass about it.”

You chuckle. It’s funny when Peter gets animated and grouchy; the latter being a rare occurrence.

“Maybe he just needs a good fuck,” Peter says flippantly, picking up his drink and raises it to his mouth.

“Who needs a good fuck?”

Peter nearly spits his drink out in shock and you turn your head towards whoever just spoke.

At the side of your table, the giant Captain approaches, dressed in a white button up t-shirt and cream coloured shorts, complimenting his gorgeous skin tone. He knows that Peter was talking about him, but wants to see the First Officer squirm - or choke, he’s not fussed either way…

The sound of a chair dragging along the floor fills the room as Captain O’Hara takes a seat, joining the two of you. His expression, full of mock expectancy for Peter to answer his question.

“Uhh, just someone that both (Y/N) and I know,” he responds finally after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The Captain sits to your right while Peter is opposite you on the square table.

“Uh huh. Right,” he pauses as he places his large hands together and rests his elbows against the table.

“And is this something to do with the guy who ‘hates speaking sentences longer than one word’?”

As your eyes flit between the two pilots, you notice a lighter band of skin around his ring finger, as if he used to wear a ring but doesn’t anymore.

“Oh, fine - I was referring to you,” Peter concedes.

“I still stand by it though…”

You think Peter is being rather feisty, maybe he has gained some courage from drinking. He does seem more relaxed than usual.

Captain O’Hara squints at the First Officer’s comment, but before he can retort, you speak up.

“How long have you been flying, Captain?”

He looks at you in a stunned silence. Your question and tone of interest totally disarms him. Those dark brown eyes scan your face momentarily while Peter watches him and then you.

“Uhm…” The Captain has to think for a second, counting the number of years he has been flying for.

“Coming up to nine years. Why do you ask?”

His arms fold on top of the table.

You give a slight shrug, you were just simply interested in knowing, but you offer up a reason anyway.

“Today’s landing was probably the smoothest I’ve ever had.”

The Captain’s face turns slightly pink as his gaze drops away from yours. You notice a slight vibration under the table, as his knee bounces up and down rapidly.

“Oh… Um… Good flying conditions help - uhm… don’t they Parker?”

Peter is almost grinning watching this display of awkwardness from Captain O’Hara, but that cheeky expression drops when the pilot turns to face him.

“Oh, yeah, cross-winds are a nightmare. We had good and calm weather on our side today.”

As the conversation continues, the Captain finds himself surprised that he hasn’t felt tempted to leave. He originally wanted to order room service, but it turns out the hotel only does buffets so he was forced to leave his room. As you and Peter go in search of food, he watches over the table and your small bag containing your phone. While he waits, he orders a beer which will be his third this evening as he had already raided the minibar before leaving his room.

At the expansive buffet table, you decide to give fajitas a try. You place a couple of tortilla wraps on your plate and place some grilled food in the middle of them both. A small bowl of spicy Mexican rice gets your attention, so you pick that up too. The food smells amazing, and you’re surprised you’ve never given much Mexican food a chance before.

Peter looks like he’s in heaven, such a wide variety and one plate to fit it all on. You can tell he’s going to be there for a while.

Sitting back down at the table you tentatively try to negotiate the wrap. You fold one side over and then the other, but realise that will end up in a great, big mess. Captain O’Hara is taking a mouthful of Corona when he spots you having trouble with your food. He quickly gulps it and puts the glass down.

“Oh, no. Here’s how you do it,” he reaches towards your plate but pauses and looks at you.

“May I? I washed my hands before I came down.”

You give a nod in response to let him touch your food.

“Okay,” he begins, “you fold this bit here upwards, then fold the side over and do the same on the other side, like so...”

As he speaks, he demonstrates the folding technique.

“Nothing falls out the other side when you bite into it then.”

The Captain nudges your plate back towards you with a weak smile.

“Oh, right! That makes sense. Thank you.”

Picking up what now resembles a parcel of food, you bite into it. The flavours of the marinade and spices burst in your mouth and you give a contented hum of approval.

“Mmmm! That’s so good.”

You cover your mouth as you chew and swallow.

“Do you eat much Mexican food?” you ask with interest to maintain a polite conversation, before glancing over at Peter with a plate piled high with food; you suppress a laugh.

“Well, I’m - half Mexican so, I kinda grew up with it.”

“Oh - of course. How silly of me,” you reply before taking another bite.

He gives a slight shrug before he gawks at Peter’s mountain of food.

As you eat, you think about the Captain’s last name. O’Hara…

“So, you’re half Irish too?” you ask.

His gaze drops slightly again.

“Yes, that’s right. But, I don’t really recognise my Irish heritage. My father was a good for nothing piece of shit.”

As he answers, you can detect a hint of venom in his voice. Perhaps a story for another time - or never; you won’t push him.

Peter finally sits at the table, carefully setting his plate down after treating the journey like an intense balancing act.

“Are you going to eat all of that, Parker?”

Too late, the man has already started eating. There won’t be much sense coming from him now.

“Oh, he’ll eat most of it at least,” you answer for him and receive a look from Captain O’Hara as if non verbally asking you if you are serious.

“Well, I’m going to go and see if there’s anything left.”

He stands, suddenly reminding you how tall he is while you crane your head up to look at him as he heads towards the buffet.

A little later on, you’re all fed, watered - kind of, and feeling a little weary after a long day. Peter nurses a huge food baby and looks to be settled in his chair for a little while. You stifle a yawn just as the Captain finishes his fourth beer of the evening.

“Well boys,” you begin as you stand, “I’m going to get some shut-eye. Got to prepare myself for a day of doing absolutely nothing tomorrow.”

You sling your little bag over your shoulder.

“I’ll come with you - we’re neighbours,” the Captain stands up too and begins to follow you while Peter waves lazily.

“G’night!”

The both of you begin your leisurely walk back to your rooms, chatting along the way. You can tell that the beer has loosened him up quite considerably and seems more willing to talk. It’s been fun learning a bit about him. Then you realise, you don’t know his name.

“What’s your name, Captain? Seems a bit odd calling you that all the time.”

He gives a very small chuckle as he realises he’s neglected to tell you the most basic bit of information about him.

“Oh, my name’s Miguel,” he reaches out for something that you think is your hand which you offer him to shake.

Miguel slaps it lightly out of the way.

“No, your phone, gi’me your phone.”

“Oh…”

Unclasping your little bag, you bring out your cell phone and unlock it. Then you open your contacts and hand the device to him.

The keyboard clicks as he enters in his details, although he has to use the backspace several times until he types it correctly.

“There,” he hands it back to you. “Text me, and I’ll have your number too.”

Taking the phone, you press the message button and you begin to type.

“Hello Miguel. :) xx”

Then you hit send, hearing a deep buzz from his pocket just a moment later.

He knows it’s from you, but he looks anyway; the ‘xx’ catches his eye.

“Do you send kisses to all your Captains?” he asks as a pink hue glows on his cheeks, feeling the heat rising in his face; unable to tell if he is blushing from the chemistry or the beer.

“I don’t text any of my other Captains,” you reply, sounding more flirty than you originally intended.

You reach the door to your room but before you pull your keycard out of your bag, Miguel takes your hand and pulls it towards his lips. Your eyes widen at the surprise, but they soften when he plants a tender kiss against your knuckles.

Photo by Colin Lloyd on Unsplash

“Well, I’m honoured to be the only Captain you have stored in your phone.”

Now it’s your turn for your face to go bright pink. It’s impossible to tell who’s blushing more.

Eventually he releases your hand, letting it fall back to your side.

“Goodnight,” you say softly, your voice almost non-existent.

He bids you goodnight in return and watches you enter your room before he unlocks his door.

Flipping his lightswitch, his room is fully lit once again. He flops down on his bed after kicking his flip-flops off and grabbing another beer from the minibar.

As he lays there, he thinks about his divorce and how much of a fuck up his marriage was. Then his mind visits the memory of you bumping into him that morning, and the smell of your

perfume. After that, he thinks about Peter saying that Miguel needs a good fuck; to not be so grumpy, he presumes. Perhaps he’s right. It has been a while… Speaking of… He feels a twitch under his cream coloured shorts and groans.

“Not now…” he grumbles to himself.

He’s too tired, too depressed and too drunk to pleasure himself right now, but it persists. Picking up his phone from his pocket, he tries to distract himself but sees your message when he unlocks it.

Another groan spills from his lips before he sets his beer down on his bedside table and unzips his shorts…

I hope you enjoyed Part 2.

Next Chapter >

If you're interested in commissioning me, please click on the link below to find out more.

[landverbunny]

1950s Linoleum, hand pieced from period designs (above: blue, green and yellow) Unlike a lot of 70's and 80's flooring, this stuff was pieced together smoothly, though usually people just pieced together simple squares or rectangles, however, if you were going for something a bit nicer, these were some suggested patterns. You could even get them pre-cut.

Pink and Grey Lino theme

Green and Beige theme

and a Red theme In the 50's you could get these in classic linoleum, but some tiles could also be found in vinyl and even asbestos You can find these for download here: Blue, Green and Yellow Pink and Grey Deep Green and Beige Red

[myfathersjournal]

So I Bought A Spaceship Episode 1: Beige Hell

Gemma cracked an eye open as the bleating of the alarm broke through to her. She gave a heavy sigh and sat up letting her purple bed sheets fall away as she fumbled for her personal device. She got the bulky little rectangle of plastic on the second try and disconnected the power cable. The painted-on letters on the miniscule keyboard had rubbed off some time ago but Gemma could still tap out the password and disable the alarm just fine. One day, she was really going to have to update it. But that cost money, and money was always criminally short for her. 

She swung her legs off the edge of her bed and stood, ignoring the pops along her spine that told her her PD wasn't the only thing outdated. Her morning routine was always the same; shower, brush,  dress, eat, shoes, then out the door.  Familiarity and deeply ingrained patterns of behavior ment she was through it and on the metro before she truly woke up. Even then it was only when a stray sun beam managed to lance between two high rise buildings and strike her in the face that the day finally registered for her.

The city around her was gray in the morning light, caught in the transition period between the neon glow of the night and the drab tones of the day. The stark, unforgiving sunlight somehow managed to make the buildings  look like they were hunched over with the weight of the day to come. Gemma  heaved a sigh, and looked down at her PD. There was just enough time to try and beat the next level of Meckitty before her stop. She checked to make sure the cartridge was slotted into the side of her personal device and sighed again. The slot was empty.  She'd taken out the cartridge to clean the contracts last night and forgot to put it back in.  Instead she reached into her bag and retrieved the tangle mess that was her earphones. By the time she got them untangled and plugged into the port at the bottom of her PD the metro chimed that it had reached her stop. Fitting the little speakers into her ears she slipped her PD into her jacket pocket and got up, it was a twenty minute walk between the metro station and her office job. She still had time for some music. 

Above her, lights winked in the dark blue of the morning sky. 

Gemma  held her personal device to the scanner plate by the front entrance of her office and waited for the ding. When the doors in front of her slid open, she was greeted with the cream colored corporate hellscape that was Arthurus Public Accounting. Cream colored linoleum tiles blended into cream colored walls, the reception desk was birch, the couches no one sat on were white, even the amber colored tube lights in the ceiling blended mirthlessly into the all pervasive beigeness of it all. Gemma walked across the lobby to the elevators, the clicking of her heels the only sound bouncing around the space. APA had spared every expense possible, and that included music for the lobby. 

A short elevator ride took her to the floor she worked on. Here the carpet between the cubicles was a light blue, presumably to keep the employees from taking a run at the windows. Twenty two steps got her to her cubicle and its squeaky beige office chair, the vinyl cracked and patched with clear tape. Gemma opened an eggshell colored “safe storage” drawer thoughtfully provided by her employers and deposited her bag into it. After closing it up she inserted her PD into the slot for it in her computer and heard the “click” of the lock trapping it in place. Like most computers, it required a person's PD to run as it lacked the hard drive, processor and personal programs a person kept on the little multitasking device. But APA had gone a step further and integrated this into their clock in/out protocall. A person would not be paid for any time their PD was not in its proper slot. To help employees remember that, said slot was locked with the PD in place until their designated lunch time. Likewise, there was no key to the safe storage locker. It was tied into the same clock in/out program and only unlocked when the PD slot unlocked. 

Gemma pulled the gray blocky keyboard out of the gray blocky computer and set the gray blocky mouse on its gray blocky mouse pad. She had to get through Mr. and Mrs. Armeraths taxes by lunchtime and they were always terrible at turning in receipts. 

Time crawled on. Gemma pulled cream colored binders off the white shelf over her blocky monitor, corporate messages came in, responses went out, and spreadsheets stretched on like vast deserts of wasted life. Eventually there was a click as the computer partially ejected her PD and the screen locked up. 

DESIGNATED LUNCH BREAK

REMAINING TIME:

19:59

Gemma grabbed her PD and retrieved her bag from the safe storage drawer. She’d made her deadline but felt strung out from crunching numbers and trying to read Mrs. Armeraths spidery handwriting. Her cafeteria was located on the other side of the floor near the managers offices so she got a chance to clear her head before she made it there. As always she made sure to be looking at her PD when passing the glass walls of her manager's office. He was one of those “friendly” bosses that would invite you in and waste your one and only break telling you about how great his family trip was. 

She got by without incident and moved into the 20ft by 10ft beige colored room beyond. One of the long walls was taken up by an assortment of vending machines dispensing a meager assortment of drinks and frozen meals. The far short wall had a bank of toaster ovens and the one small sink and garbage can. To keep waste costs to a minimum, staff were encouraged to not bring outside food and beverages with them into the building so the sink was hardly ever used for anything.Oddly, the policy did little to actually help reduce waste, and the trash can was usually always stuffed full. Gemma bought a small pack of perogies and a can of green tea then sat and watched her food cook in the oven from the nearest table. As always, it took half her remaining lunch allotment to cook, leaving her only about 8 minutes to eat and get back to her desk before the company installed timer program on her PD began to beep.  

The only way to silence it at that point was to slip the PD into the company computer again and she wanted to avoid that walk of shame past her boss. Not just because it was embarrassing to go through the whole floor with a loudly beeping PD, but also because her boss would likely stop her right outside his office to give her a lecture about better time management and make her even more late than she already was. She got  her lunch down in four minutes and was back to her desk just before the timer ran down, jamming her PD back into the slot at 00:01.

The afternoon went about as well as the morning did, boring not only her but the one watching her as well. 

After work was a quick metro ride to her apartment. The gray buildings tinted a ruddy orange in the evening light making the trip slightly more interesting than it had been in the morning. From there she packed her dirty clothes into the large canvas carry bag she kept for that purpose and was out the door again to the laundromat down the street. This time she made sure to grab the Meckitty cartridge and slot it into her personal device. 

It was misting a light rain as she left her building, bringing out that fresh smell that only existed in the presence of so much water. Anxious people jostled her to and fro as they all vied to get where they were going before moisture made the journey unpleasant. Most of the journey followed under the raised metroline so Gemma didn’t have to worry too much about herself. The laundromat, or “Bills Quick Wash and Arcade” as the flickering neon proclaimed it, occupied the first floor of one of the many nondescript concrete buildings on the block. The large front windows spilled warm yellow light into the gathering gloom. It always smelled of fresh soap and warm water and despite its aged and dingy appearance, it always made Gemma feel safe. Like a little soap scented island in a dark and scary sea. 

Tonight had a few regulars in it with her, people she didn’t know but who nodded a familiar greeting all the same. The arcade in the back chimed and beeped away as a gaggle of children fought over the few functional machines. Gemma was glad she remembered to bring her Meckitty cartridge with her, it wasn’t likely she was going to get a chance to play Dino Terminator tonight. The TV mounted in the far corner was playing something on the news.  A picture popped up over the newscast's left shoulder of a dark night sky that had a red arrow pointing at a patch of blackness. But the sound was turned off and Gemma didn’t notice it.

Instead she flopped onto a bench near the washer she was using, flipped her PD to game mode and connected her earbuds. The tiny fluorescent screen lit up in bright pinks and purples as a violently colored cat streaked across a dark purple starscape. Gemma selected her file and got down to business. The game was pretty straight forward in principle. Pilot the Meckitty 1, a pink cat shaped spaceship, back and forth across the 2d upwards scrolling background shooting other spaceships and asteroids while avoiding the frankly ludicrous amount of incoming fire from everything and every one. But the game boasted a “learning AI” and procedurally generated levels. The advertisement said that it would learn the players style of play and adjust its tactics to exploit the players weaknesses. Gemma didn’t know how true all of that was but had been stuck on level 34 for almost a week now so could only assume it was true.

She was no closer to beating it when the last load was done in the drier and needed to be folded. Tugging the earbuds out of her ears she stuffed the whole mess into her bag and got to folding her clothes. By now the TV had moved on to rerunning old cowboy movies. Gemma watched it mostly as there wasn’t much else she could do while folding. The Dino Terminator machine was finally open, but she would be leaving as soon as this load was done. 

And the cycle repeated.

Gemma cracked an eye open as the bleating of the alarm broke through to her. She flailed at her PD, knocking it off the nightstand and onto the floor where it continued to yell at her. Shower, brush,  dress, eat, shoes, out the door and off again. Metro to work, walk to the elevator, down the line to her cubicle, bag in the storage drawer, PD in the computer. Click. Gemma cracked her knuckles, rolled her shoulders and hunched over the keyboard to start on the taxes for another person with more money in their PD than she’d had all her life. The mono speaker in her computer dinged softly alerting her to a new message in her inbox. Gemma welcomed the distraction and clicked on the message;

FROM: new.customer.program@reddherringandsons.glx

TO: G.Maddison@apa.biz

Subject: SPECIAL OFFER!

Tired of your desk job? Listlessly spending your life/cycle/reproductive years wasting away making other beings rich? Why not:

TRAVEL THE STARS!

Our top of the line, pre-owned starships might be just what you’re looking for. With our 45 point custom inspection we ensure that all our starships are just as good as new!* Don’t have the money? Don’t worry! With our deluxe suite of financing options you’ll be cruising the galaxy with as little as no credits down! Interested? Click the link below to find out more! 

||Accept Offer||

*not a substitute for an inspection done by a licensed professional

Maybe it was the lack of sleep from another night on the mattress her parents had bought her when she was twelve. Maybe it was the fact the free coffee machine had been broken that day. Maybe the tedious drudgery her life had become had finally reduced her neural processes to a gray miasmic mush. Whatever the reason was, Gemma clicked the link without actually reading it. The screen began to flicker and her computer made noises that did not sound normal or safe. She scooted her chair back, worried now that she’d accidentally let a virus loose on the company server. Before she could get up or truly start to panic she felt an electric zip run up her spine and a sharp pain at the base of her skull. The screen flickered over to a new message. 

Thank you for your purchase! Your transaction has been tagged to your genetic account and your shipment is inbound!

Time until shipment arrives: 15 minutes

Please get to an open, surface level area at your earliest convenience!

Far above her, a shooting star streaked across the morning sky. 

Next Episode

[ashokatiles]

Mastering Tile Selection: How to Identify and Invest in the Best Quality Tiles

Tiles are not just functional objects; They are design statements that can transform spaces into spectacular displays of style and phenomena. Whether it’s for floors, backsplashes, or accent walls, choosing the right tile is essential to achieving the beauty and longevity you desire in your home in this guide we’ll explore the key factors to consider when choosing a tile high and how to make sound investment decisions.

To understand tile quality

Best quality tiles have several key features that contribute to durability, aesthetics and functionality. Here are some things to keep in mind:

Materials: Tiles are available in a variety of materials, including ceramic, porcelain, natural stone and glass. Each material has its own unique characteristics, such as durability, water resistance and aesthetic appeal. Porcelain tiles, for example, are known for their durability and low durability, making them ideal for high-traffic areas like kitchens and bathrooms.

Finish: The finish of a tile can greatly affect its appearance and functionality. Common finishes include matte, glossy, textured and polished. Matte finishes provide a non-gloss finish that is easy to maintain and scratch-resistant, while glossy finishes add sheen and luminosity to add luster to a space.

Shapes and sizes: Tiles are available in a variety of shapes and sizes from traditional rectangular squares to rectangles, hexagons, and beyond. Larger frames can create a sense of spaciousness and continuity, while small frames are often used to create intricate patterns and designs.

Colors and patterns: The colors and patterns of tiles play an important role in defining the overall aesthetic of a space. Neutral tones like white, beige and gray are timeless and versatile, while bold colors and striking patterns can add personality and drama to a room.

Survey of tile industry

In addition to aesthetics, it is important to consider the functionality of the tile and how it works especially in high traffic areas and humid areas here are some things to consider.

Durability: Beautiful wood should be durable enough to withstand constant wear and tear, without tearing, cracking, or deteriorating. Look for tiles with a high PEI Porcelain Enamel Institute rating for flooring and a high MOHS rating for scratch resistance.

Water resistance: For water-prone areas, such as bathrooms, kitchens and entryways, it is important to choose wood that is waterproof and stain and mold resistant Porcelain and natural stone tiles are good choices for this application.

Slip resistance: Safety is paramount, especially in wet areas such as bathrooms and entryways. Choose tiles with a textured surface or a high Coefficient of Friction rating to reduce the risk of slips and falls.

Maintenance: Consider ease of cleaning and maintenance when choosing wood for your home. Smooth, porous surfaces are easily washed and damaged easily, while softer, more textured surfaces may require more frequent maintenance.

Making sound investment decisions

Investing in premium quality tiles is not only aesthetically pleasing but also a long-term investment in the value and durability of your home. Here are some tips for making informed decisions:

Set a budget: Set your budget and prioritize quality over quantity. While best quality tiles can come in expensive, they offer excellent durability and longevity, ultimately saving you money in the long run.

Research Brands and Suppliers: Take the time to research popular tile brands and suppliers known for their commitment to quality and customer satisfaction. Read reviews, visit exhibitions, and ask friends, family, and design professionals for recommendations.

Ask for samples: Ask for samples of the tiles you have chosen to see the perfect look, feel and color in your space before making a final decision. Looking at samples under different lighting conditions can help you make the right choices.

Consult with design professionals: If you are unsure of which tiles to choose or how to incorporate them into your design plan, consider consulting with interior designers or tile experts who can provide valuable guidance and recommendations depending on your specific needs and preferences for you will consider.

Conclusion

The quality of floor tiles selection is a balance of aesthetics, functionality and practicality. By understanding the fundamentals of quality tile and investing in high-quality materials, you can create beautiful and durable surfaces that will stand the test of time Whether you’re remodeling your kitchen, designing a bathroom new, or add a little luxury to your room. It is an investment in efficiency and cost.

[heytilesuser22]

ALLORA 8.5" X 10" STELLA HEXAGON DECO MATTE PORCELAIN TILE

Add geometry to your floors and walls with Allora, an Italian-made matte porcelain tile that comes in three shapes: Rectangle (3”x24”), Rhombus (7.5"x12.75") and Hexagon (8.5”x10”). The neutral colors of White, Gray and Black blend well with any room style. The hexagon shapes also come in three deco options in Fiore (floral pattern), Stella (star pattern) and Telaio (hexagon pattern).

Calactta Gold Wall Tiles Create a solid-colored look, a complete patterned design, or combine the solids and decos for your own look.

MAKOTO 10" X 11.5" HEXAGON MATTE PORCELAIN TILE IN KUMO GREY

Msi Stone Calacatta Add a touch of luxury to your space with the Makoto Collection - a series of decorative glazed ceramic and porcelain tile. Choose from a variety of types and shapes like 2.5in.x10in. wall tile, 10in.x11.5in.

hexagon tile, 0.5in.x8in. miter edge trim, or 2in. round mosaic. Each shape offers a matte finish and is available in Shoji White, Tatami Beige, Kumo Grey, Umi Terracotta, Momoiro Blush, Mindoro Green, Arashi Blue, and Kuroi Black. The Makoto Collection is made in Spain and Italy.

BLANCO LYNX 10.47 IN. X 10.4 IN. X 8MM POLISHED STONE AND METAL MOSAIC TILE

Blanco Lynx features a fresh white marble background accented with a unique interlocking link pattern for a retro-revived look that adds character to any space.

These beautiful, Calacatta Gold Honed Tiles luxurious geometric tiles are suitable for a wide range of applications, from kitchen backsplashes to tub surrounds to patterned wall tiles. Pair it with complementary geometric floor tiles or other natural stone from our wide range of inventory

[giiegue]

tfw you're helping your mom with groceries and she starts making egg puns with the store janitor that's filling in for the cashier and they won't stop so you just stand there awkwardly holding miscellaneous pie ingredients wondering when the torment will end

[image description: digital art of kris, toriel, and sans, characters from the game deltarune. they are all in a small convenience store with a yellow tiled floor, light blue walls, a brown door, and a big, paned window with a view of the street and a yellow house on the other side. there is a pink poster on the far right wall, with a yellow rectangle that says “NEW” in grey letters inside. a few light green leaves of a small palm tree is seen on the right, as well as part of a blue basket filled with different fruits. in the middle of the store is a warm grey shelf rack with different colored magazines and cards, purposely left with no details.

in the foreground on the left is kris, a human teenager with a stoic expression. they have tan skin, brown chin-length hair that’s a bit messy, and their bangs cast a shadow over their eyes which can’t be seen. they are wearing a light green hoodie with a thick horizontal yellow stripe across the middle, including the sleeves. their pants and shoes are the same brown as their hair, and blend into each other indistinguishably. they are holding two beige canvas bags, one in each hand, and they are standing behind toriel. 

in the middle is toriel, a tall goat-like monster that appears to be talking. she has white fur with a pink tinge, red eyes, two small pointed horns on top of her head, big droopy ears that reach her shoulders, a square muzzle with two small fangs in the front, and big clawed hands with four digits. she is wearing a purple turtleneck, a purple skirt with lighter purple dots, and a light purple blazer that’s buttoned closed. she is wearing a gold heart-shaped necklace with a gold chain. she is holding a canvas bag like kris’ in her right hand, and her left hand is up near her face, resembling a thinking gesture. she is standing at the check-out counter, which is warm grey and has a golden service bell off to the left side.

on the right is sans, a humanoid skeleton that’s sitting behind the check-out counter. he is facing toriel, so only his back is seen. he has white bones with a light blue tinge. he is wearing a blue hooded jacket, and the hood has a grey lining. his elbows are resting on the counter, and he is resting his head in his left hand. his right hand is vaguely gesturing, as if half-shrugging or explaining something. /end description]

[sinkorswimvn]

200 Follower Sail-ebration!!!!

We can't express enough how excited we are for this project and we're thrilled that you guys are too!

We promised we'd keep you updated and our Art team have been working hard on deciding how we want to spend the summer. Let's set the scene and check out the vibes, shall we?

You've not had much luck when it comes to love, but an opportunity arises for you to sign up to a reality television show. An opportunity to find the love you've been missing. A summer of sun, sea and sexy singles is on the horizon.

But that summer isn't complete without a romantic atmosphere. From fountains and fruit trees to hidden places, the villa is the perfect spot for you to spend time with that special someone.

We hope you enjoy it and find what you're looking for!

[Image description: 

Image is of a moodboard-style picture and in the centre there is neon pink lettering that reads “villa concept.” The image contains a collage of eight photographs - four above the caption and four below. The first is of an arched, open doorway, taken in a corridor containing two old-fashioned chests on either side. The corridor leads to an outside courtyard, where there is a stone fountain, decorated with potted plants and hedges. 

The second photograph is taken outside, under the shade of some tree branches. In the foreground of the image, there is a planted up area filled with different bushes and flowers. Behind it, there is an old, run-down building with two archways. The one on the right leads down a path onto a darkened area and the one on the left is held up by four white pillars. Further on the left of that, there are two more pillars in front of a view of the ocean.

The image next to it is underneath a canopy, covered in greenery. In the background, there is a view of the ocean with white boats scattered around the area. In front of the view, there is a cream coloured sofa, decorated with patterned cushions. In front of the sofa, on beige tiled flooring there is a small rectangular coffee table. 

The fourth photo shows a similar concept. It is a brighter photo underneath a canopy of overgrown greenery. There is a sofad seating area, decorated with brightly coloured cushions, with a view of the sea in the background. The flooring is also tiled, with two tables in front of the seating. In the centre, there is a person sitting on the middle sofa, sideways, looking out at the view. She is wearing a brown and cream maxi dress and has dark brown hair, styled into a bob.

The first image on the second row is of an outdoor corridor. There is patterned tiling used as the flooring and there is a tree on the right and a hedge on the left. There is a beige archway in the centre with three visible pillars that have shadows cast on the ground. Under the archway, there is a person standing sideways, looking out to the sea in the background. They are wearing a white shirt and black jeans and they have short, dark hair. 

The next photo is of an outdoor kitchen/bar area, underneath a wooden canopy with leaves overgrowing under it. The bar itself is a curved shape and is made of stone. The surface is marble and decorated with a variety of plant pots. Five wooden stools are placed around it and in the background there is a grassed area and the sea can be seen in the distance. 

The third image on the second row is of an outdoor swimming pool area. In the foreground, the swimming pool can be seen and the water is dark turquoise in colour. On the left side, there is an outdoor chair decorated with white cushions. On the left and right side, there are stone steps leading up to different levels. On the second level, there is a black sofa with white cushions and a small table in front of it. Above the second level, on the left, there are more stone steps leading up into a garden area with many trees in the background. 

The final image is of a small room. In the centre, there is an old stone basin with water inside and there is a rectangle of light surrounding it on the floor, caused by the sunlight. There are two large open doors leading out to a balcony and outside there is grass and hedges. The wall decoration is made up of different paintings. The first has been made to look like the doorway of a house, with a rectangular shape and a triangle above it, built outwards from the wall. Inside the rectangle there is a purple double door that has been painted on, with a person in a white and green dress peeking their head out. Next to it, there is another painting of another person wearing a silver and purple satin dress, holding a guitar-like instrument. End ID.]

[movedto-interestedmind]

What it’s like being in Love

⇢ category: fluff (fem!reader x spencer reid)

⇢ summary: a small list of what it’s like being in love with spencer reid.

⇢ warnings: lots of hugging, kissing, anxiety mention, bad case mention? lmk if there’s more!

(prompt - masterlist)

Rainy

To you it was a beautiful Saturday morning, waking up to no sunlight shining through the crack of the thick mahogany curtains, hearing the sounds of heavy rain hitting the window. Hearing the rain reminded you of smooth jazz; calm, laid back, and pleasing to the ear.

Looking to your left, you see your boyfriend hugging the extra pillow, as if it was you. You get up to go to the bathroom, starting your morning routine --

“Can we stay in, please?’

You turn around to a half-asleep Spencer sitting up, his brown wavy hair all over the place (how it usually looks, but a little messier); giving you puppy eyes.

“You know looking at me like that isn’t going to change my mind, right?” you say, smiling with your head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised.

“At least for ten minutes?” Maybe he was getting to you a little.

Okay, maybe a lot.

‘’Fine. Only 10 minutes?’’

“Only 10 minutes”

You finally give in, walking back to your side of the bed, moving the white pillow behind you, so you can wrap your arms around Spencer, him doing the same in return.

Nuzzling into his neck, you say, “I love you”

You’ll never get tired of saying that.

“I love you too”

Historic

Today is your birthday, and Spencer had booked the both of you a trip to New York City. You both stayed in the Warwick hotel, a beautiful building built in the 1920s. The lobby was white, the white-tiled floor so clean that you can see your reflection. The white and gold walls create a bright atmosphere, along with the glass chandeliers.

Stepping out the mirror filled elevator, you unlock the door going into your room on the highest floor.

“Wow, Spence”

The walls were gray, and there was a king-sized bed with white sheets in the middle. Beside the bed sat a black nightstand with a lamp on either side. Above it was a circle shaped mirror, and to your right was a full-length mirror.

Walking into the bathroom, you stood there in awe. “Spencer, look at this bathroom!”

He laughs at your excitement, knowing he did a good job.

In the beige-whiteish bathroom stood two granite sinks, and a big rectangle mirror with gold rims; to your left was a step in shower with clear doors.

“Let’s get settled in so we can go to the Met”. You pause, your eyes widening, and eyebrows raising; it was your dream to go to the Met, and especially NYC.

“What???”

“You heard me”

You pull him in for a tight hug, no one has ever loved you this much, you felt like you didn't deserve it.

“I love you so much, thank you” you say against his chest.

Spencer wraps his arms around your waist, “You're welcome, happy birthday, Pretty Girl”.

Gratefulness

Within the past few years, you’re proud to say that your life has changed a lot. You never would've thought you would call anyone your soulmate, until you met Spencer 5 years ago.

“You should totally ask him out next time he comes in” Your friend Aleena says.

Spencer is a frequent visitor, but sometimes he would be gone for a week (sometimes more) due to long cases.

“You know what, maybe I will” you state confidently.

Looks like todays the day, because coincidentally, he walks in the Café.

“Hi! Welcome back! The usual?” You say quickly, suddenly getting nervous.

“Of course” he says, smiling.

You prepare his usual order, making sure to add about 10 sugars. When you’re finished, you write his name on the cup with a black sharpie, calling out his name so he can pick up his coffee.

“Thank you”

“Of course...hey uhm” please don’t mess this up please don’t mess this -

“Yeah?”

“Wouldyouliketogoout? With me- of course with me- who else? anyway would you-“

“Of course I would” Spencer says, giving you another smile.

“Oh, good, I thought I was going to start crying the second you left” you say with an awkward laugh.

He responds by laughing along, getting a post-it and pen from his brown satchel, writing his number on it.

Since then, you’ve seen the highest and the lowest of Spencer, and so has he. You know what to do after he comes back from a bad case, and he knows what to do whenever your anxiety gets the best of you. You both know each other’s body well, if someone were to quiz you, you both would score an easy hundred (not to mention Spencer’s eidetic memory).

You slowly started to get more and more familiar with each other, Spencer finally initiating the plan to introduce you to his team. You’ve gathered a good impression from all of them, but you’ll never forget your impression of Penelope Garcia. The first thing you noticed was her very bright smile and outfit, immediately knowing the both of you would become the best of friends.

In fact, you were right, you guys talked all the time (I mean all the time, especially on the phone between breaks during work); you also went shopping a lot, surprised that you guys haven’t gone broke by now.

When you finally got comfortable with the rest of the team, you would bring them gifts, and desserts like cookies and cupcakes. Sometimes Spencer would come home from work saying, “They asked if you were visiting today, I’m pretty sure they love you more than me”

All in all, you didn’t feel alone anymore, grateful that you have someone who loves you this much.

Hugs

You had a million ways to describe hugging Spencer. It felt like you were laying on clouds, the clouds representing an anxiety reliever, nothing can top Spencer’s hugs.

If you told him this he would probably give you information on how hugging can boost oxytocin, but it was way more than that.

Hugging Spencer made you feel safe, every time you’d connect it would feel like home, creating a sense of a warm and cozy environment, like hot chocolate and the sound of fire crackling in the fireplace during a cold winter night.

Whenever you would cry, Spencer would hug you, and the crying would immediately come to an end, like you were a baby who finally got what they wanted. Although with Spencer, every time he would come home from a hard-hitting case, you saw his sorrowful, exhausted face and you knew, immediately getting up to comfort him. Your touch was like a button to start the tears, automatically hearing the sobs in your ear. Oftentimes you would stand at the door for hours, rubbing his back and saying “It’s okay, you’re safe” like it was a mantra.

Every time you would share your vulnerability, you knew he would never leave.

Memories: Your First Kiss

You never had anyone kiss you like Spencer did. All of the guys you’ve kissed before you met him never put this much effort, this much passion into it.

It was something you knew you would be getting addicted to.

You were in Spencer’s cozy, library-like apartment, sitting on the light brown couch with your head on Spencer’s shoulder, watching a movie.

You didn’t know what came over you, but you sat up, staring at him

“Y/N? Is there something wrong?” Spencer says, confused.

Looking at his lips, then back up at him, then to his lips again, you say, “Nothing, I just really wanna do this”

Before he could even open his mouth to question you, you give him a soft, passionate kiss.

Before you know it, he’s grabbing your face, then your hair, asking for permission to deepen the kiss by sliding his tongue against your mouth, you allow him to proceed.

It was hard to describe the feeling, but the best thing you could come up with was that it felt like some sort of high, you either never wanted it to end, or you wanted to take it further.

It was like dancing, or painting even, so smooth and lively.

You couldn’t wait to share more moments like these.

[shadows-echoes]

The Logic of Emotion - Pt. 7

(This beautiful gif doesn’t belong to me!! Gif source here!!)

Pairing: Connor RK800 x fem!reader

Summary: Connor’s just trying to complete his mission but he keeps running into the emotional roadblocks of those around him. You’ve been assigned to the deviancy investigation along with Hank and Connor, but you’re starting to ask questions no one seems interested in listening to. The investigation becomes more difficult for everyone involved as it progresses, and for vastly different reasons.

Warnings: none?

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: *finger guns*

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 8 // Masterlist

The room is three degrees colder than it should be, the air staler, and the lights dimmer.

The muted overhead lights created long, blurred rectangles on the semi-reflective, spotted beige tiles that covered the floor. The rooms had been sterilized since its last user but traces of them still remained: their handprint lingering on the windowsill, a strand of hair in the corner of the room. Even the nurses and doctors, as rigorously clean as they tried to be, had left their mark. Scuff marks and thin, dark streaks from faux non-marking sneakers dotted the ground along with barely-there footprints.

With his elbows braced upon his knees, Connor cataloged them all as he absently tossed a coin between his fingers. He picked out every possible piece of evidence scattered along the floor and followed them, found what they were from and who they belonged to. He hadn’t found anything of interest over the last three hours and fourteen minutes since he and Hank had been allowed entrance into the hospital room, but his mind needed to work.

He needed to process something or he would go insane sitting here. Doing nothing. Waiting.

You had become his mission in an instant, but now there was nothing he could do for you.

Connor had wanted to track down Martha himself; it would be another mission. It would be objectivity. It was what you’d wanted him to do in the first place. But Hank had been… insistent that he stay.

And so he had.

At first, Hank offered some distraction from the misery of the slowly passing time, but he eventually fell into an uneasy sleep in the chair next to Connor’s. Connor contemplated entering stasis mode himself, just to pass the time, but he was worried about what he would find there. He wasn’t sure if he’d come back.

Connor had a vast arsenal of questions pestering his mind and a list of objectives he needed to meet, but the two people he most desired answers from were both asleep and his targets had been as unreachable as they always had been.

Every so often, his gaze would inevitably be drawn back to where you lay and he would quickly resign himself to staring at the floor once again. It was safer that way.

Twenty-seven minutes and ten seconds after he last looked up, the rhythmic beeping emanating from the machine monitoring your heart rate broke its steady pattern. 

It was accelerating.

Connor was out of his seat and standing beside your bed before your eyes finished adjusting to the light and your unfamiliar surroundings.

Dark crescents sat beneath your eyes and your skin held a sallow tone to it, but you were out of surgery, beginning the healing process, and unrefutably alive.

Your shifting ceases as your disoriented gaze catches on him. “Connor?”

It was barely a croak, nearly inaudible, but there was a probability of zero that he would miss it. He was too highly attuned to you.

A wave of- of something, of multiple somethings, washed over him. He didn’t particularly care to name whatever it was, he had better things to ponder at the moment, but he felt like he’d been restored. Like his key biocomponents had been switched out and upgraded versions had been installed. A shroud of darkened, heavy thoughts still clung to him, but at least now he felt he could properly function again.

The corners of his lips curl upwards fractionally. “Hello, Y/N,” he greets, the words acquiring an unexpected softness he hadn’t consented to.

Connor watches as you attempt to blink away the daze from your eyes, a squinting grimace crossing your features.

“What happened?” you rasp, eyes sluggishly darting from him, to Hank’s sleeping form in the corner of the room, to your own stomach in confusion. “I… I don’t remember coming here.”

He doesn’t know the correct procedure for this, he’d never done it before, there had never been a need for him to visit someone in the hospital. But a question? A question he could handle.

“We were investigating a deviant named Martha. She was hiding out in a different apartment as we searched through hers and you found her,” Connor informs, an unknown weight forming over his chest at the memory. “She stabbed you twice. You passed out from the blood loss shortly after we reached your car, that’s why you don’t remember arriving. It was difficult getting you here alive but even unconscious you were quite stubborn. Upon arrival, you were rushed into a successful surgery six hours ago. The doctors said the prognosis for your injuries was-”

The back of your hand tiredly brushes against his side and what’s left of the sentence dies on his lips.

You’re shaking your head. “I meant- wait… Were you… rambling?”

“No,” he refutes, the barest hint of defensiveness entering his tone and posture as he straightens his shoulders. “I was just answering the question.”

The fog must be lifting from your mind for the look you give him is more observingly shrewd than should be possible given the quantity of drugs being fed into you through the IV in the crook of your elbow.

Connor waits, unsure, as he watches the result of the synapses firing in your brain. Confusion was etched into the hard, tired lines of your face as you stared at him. He could see the question forming, dawning in your mind, and he had a high suspicion he knew exactly what it was you were trying to work out.

“But you… Didn’t I…”

The full question is left unsaid but he can see it in your eyes, he can hear it in his head. He’d assumed it would take you longer- hoped it would take you longer- to reach, but it seemed even in an incapacitated state you could find a way straight to key turning points. To questioning the foundation of things and the reasoning behind them.

Didn’t I order you?

“It was the only way,” he quietly relents. Closely observing the further furrowing of your brows. He wondered whether his explanation was too vague or if you simply didn’t want to accept it. He grew increasingly uncomfortable with the uncertainty as the seconds ticked on.

It wouldn’t take you long to figure out, he may as well help, but the prompt felt thick leaving his mouth. “You ordered me to leave you behind, Y/N.”

The confusion gradually drained away from your face. As your expression went slack and you paled, Connor realized his mistake. Perhaps uncertainty was preferable.

“Are you… Are you saying-”

You couldn’t finish the breathy question; there was too much dread pooling in your stomach.

Dread and guilt and hope and pride and delight and something that warmed your heart a dangerous amount. 

But worry came out of the hailstorm victorious and clear.

Because if Connor was- if he- then Cyberlife would-

Connor says nothing, his gaze holding yours as resignation filled his eyes. 

An unspoken confirmation.

As you stare up at him, agape and speechless, some idle, non-spinning part of your brain registers the tightening of his jaw.

Whatever painkillers you were being given were certainly doing their job, there was only a slight soreness radiating around your stomach. Though, your body did feel like it hadn’t moved in days. Every part of your arm felt heavy as you reached out to grab Connor’s hand in a speechless thanks, in acceptance, in a small act of comfort.

But you stopped short, hand hovering centimeters from reaching his, as another realization hit you like a semi-truck.  

Your hand falls. 

One of the machines beside the bed unhelpfully announces your once again spiking heart rate. It made you more nervous than you already were. “Connor, there’s- there’s something you should know.”

The smallness of your voice isn’t lost on him. The resignation is quick to fall to calculation; a speculating look overtakes his features and you swallow back the lump in your throat.

You were covered in blankets and a stiff blue hospital gown, almost completely covered, but you feel wholly bare before Connor.

Would he hate you after this? For the lies you had been feeding him? For the cases you’d made him fail? For the suspects lost? Or would he begrudgingly accept everything you’d done now that he too was a-

You look to Hank’s form for assistance, unsure whether you're praying for him to awaken of remain asleep, but he remains hunched over the side of his chair. Sleeping.

You force yourself to meet Connor’s now concerned, wary eyes.

If he was- if he was a deviant now, then... Then there were things he needed to know. 

You steeled your resolve. “I… I’ve been working with them. With Markus.”

-

Connor watches from across the hall as a friend of yours climbs onto the foot of your bed, finding a comfortable position there while animatedly speaking about something. The tone was slightly chastising from what he could hear, but he noticed a small smile creeping onto your face regardless.

It had been difficult enough for Hank and Connor to skirt the regulations regarding visiting hours. So, when your wild-eyed friend had practically busted into the room after somehow making it past the now hissing receptionist, they both respectfully excused themselves.

“Have you told her yet?” Hank asks, glancing at you through the room’s open door before turning back to Connor.

“She knows I’m a deviant,” Connor states. The firm words are quiet enough not to be overheard by the few staff members pacing the long hall.

Hank scoffs. “Not that. That you like her.”

Connor turns, his brows furrowing as he looks up at the man beside him in confusion. Hank’s shoulders were pushed against the wall he was leaning into, a cup of cheap, vending machine coffee in hand, exhaustion lining his features. 

“Hank-”

“Look, I don’t know jack shit about the technicalities,” Hank interrupts, cutting Connor off before his dismissal is even voiced. “But I do know that androids don’t deviate over nothing -even if it was a stupid fuckin’ order.”

While the last sentence was grumbled with frustration and lingering disbelief, the rest of the statement was spoken with a knowing tone.

Connor pauses.

Before, back at the apartment building, Connor had been startled out of his processing when he first heard the muffled gunshots being fired on the floor above him. He’d been worried for your safety as he charged out of the room and through the building, and he’d been terrified when he saw you slumped against a wall, bloodied and far too still.

Panic had overridden his systems.

Warning signals flared and roared to life before his eyes, but he’d shoved them all aside. He knew he shouldn’t have, he knew it was wrong, but he did it anyway. Without hesitation.

He didn’t care about his system instabilities. He cared about you.

And the one thing he knew with an alarming amount of clarity was that he couldn’t abide by your command, he needed to ensure your survival.

When the wall of coding appeared, listing his instructions, his mission, Connor had taken one look at you -at your bloodied, fragile human body and your eyes that were so desperately clinging to determination and resolve like a lifeline- and tore it down. He had kicked and punched and pulled until the wall between him and you, between his mission and saving your life, fractured into pieces.

Was that what it meant to like someone? To disregard what should be done for what emotion dictates one should do? What a… human notion.

Though he had had his suspicions about your commitment to solving the investigation long before today, he had severely underestimated the scale of it. Of you. Despite what he had erroneously assumed to be poor detective work and interfering, trivial emotions, however, he had still enjoyed your company. To the extent that he could, at least. 

You were one of the few who had always treated him as an equal, even- especially through his screw-ups. Only now he knew the lengths you went to for his kind, and the rather stupid risks you took considering who you were partnered with. 

In hindsight, it was painfully obvious what you were doing. Your skittish nature, your drained eyes, the oddities in your reports, the number of deviants that had gotten away when he was so close to catching them. It was so obvious, in fact, that it made him wonder...

No matter what he felt about everything else and how much it ate away at him, you seemed to be ground zero. He couldn’t deny the emotions you were able to conjure within him. The relief, the happiness, the affection, the additional guilt, the nervousness, the want to protect… It all swirled around him in a cloud.

But is that what it boiled down to? That he liked you?

Emotions were new, overwhelming, and far more disorganizedly irrational than he’d assumed, but the term didn’t feel particularly accurate.

Not that it mattered.

“I… I might be a deviant, but I am still an android,” Connor reaffirms, a fixed reminder to both himself and Hank. “Even if I completely understood what I feel now, nothing could ever come of it.”

Hank hums, nestling into the wall. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Again, Connor pauses. The words catch him, a small, precise lure. Something in him begs to rise to the bait, to inquire, to learn more-

But it doesn’t matter.

He had fulfilled Hank’s request by staying as long as he had. Now, Connor has places to be. Or rather, one place in particular.

You’d divulged Jericho’s location; it was time he went there.

-

A/N 2.0: To everyone who was worried: Ily but it had to happen.

But guys. Guys. This is like… the second to last part??? There’ll one more part after this and I’m not entirely sure how to write endings so we’ll see how it goes   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I hope the POV switches came out alright. I rewrote this scene so many times to try and make it work.

Let me know what you thought!! Hmu with that feedback! I’m not even joking when I say it gives me life. It’s what I most look forward to <3 

Tags: @aya-fay @mamamemequeen @layinglonely @robin-rokossovsky @simplysaying @superanonymousreader @aririna1412 @marinettelafayette @purpstraw @tinycyberhacker @lunarlexycon @littlemsrantsalot @bibbo-boggerns @lost-and-found-jc @fuckthatfeeling @avispate @audiblehush @grievance-s @i-resent-this-hellsite @kylobien @fandomfreakgod @colddeadeyes @ctvrty @fineactually @wadeyouwitch @dragonempress123 @queerfandomtrash @mldivers

[decorishing]

[gallery] 🐶Support Design Dog Bed: Rectangular dog bed is the perfect shape for setting up a private sleeping nook for both cats and dogs in the corner of any room. Raised four walls and pillow-like structure provide good support and cushion for the dog's head and neck while reducing exposure to drafts.Low leading edge design is for easy access.Cozy interior offers a feeling of comfort and security.Your buddies will love the feel of the comfortable sleeping area. 🐶Luxury Ultra Soft Puppy Bed: Pet bed is covered in rose swirl short faux fur and cozy suede fabric, which is soft and warm during the winter.Effectively retains your pet’s body heat. Our dog bed adopt high resilience polyester fiber filling and support a better sleep and keep warmth.In no time, your pet will be snoozing away in the elevated comfort of the stylish bed frame. 🐶Size Option: Dog bed for small dogs,the outer size is 20"x19"x7" ,and the inner size is 15"x12".Pet bed fit for dogs up to 15 lbs.For a proper fit, make sure to review the measurements. 🐶Easy to Clean: Our dog bed can easy wash and care when accidents happen or for routine cleaning. It can completely machine washable, but we usually recommend hand washing. It is important that the bed is thoroughly dried in the dryer directly on low heat after washing and do not Air dry. 🐶Non-Slip Dog Bed: The non-slip bottom keeps the dog bed in place on tile and hardwood floors in the house.Our orthopedic dog bed is durable and can always maintain the shape of a rectangular sofa. Puppy bed can be used in ground, crate, sofa and backseat of car. The neutral and cozy color can match any furniture and place. [amz_corss_sell asin="B0967W65J3"] https://www.decorishing.com/product/joejoy-rectangle-dog-bed-for-large-medium-small-dogs-machine-washable-sleeping-dog-sofa-bed-non-slip-bottom-breathable-soft-puppy-bed-durable-orthopedic-calming-pet-cuddler-multiple-size-beige/?feed_id=33668&_unique_id=6279440a85238

[justinempire]

https://www.reverbnation.com/JustinEmpire/song/30064420-sophisticated-house

Sophisticated House is a dance, instrumental, house track, simplistic in nature, with deep bass in parts and powerful kick drums throughout.  The track is complimented with vibrant musical melodies and percussion.

The record cover for Sophisticated House is a 3d model of a contemporary concept kitchen and hall, I created using Blender.  The kitchen boasts glossy artistic worktops and bespoke center island, the beige, cream base of the center island is accented with chrome rods and pillars that smoothly flow onto the blue tiled floor.

The cooker is a cream bespoke, small yet modern stylish electric styled cooker with beveled edges and a glossy black oven window.  The kitchen taps are designed with a chrome finish and blue and red handles to indicate hot and cold.

The window frames are styled from an image of a window frame taken from DEARMOTORIST.COM

https://www.dearmotorist.com/  

https://www.dearmotorist.com/small-kitchen-window-curtains-treatments/small-kitchen-window-curtains-and-blinds/

The stools of the center island are a deep blue padded plastic with chrome base and legs.

The garden landscape image seen through the windows are taken from Garden Landscapehttps://pixabay.com/en/paradise-tree-garden-spring-poland-2288069/JerzyGoreck

The worktop cupboards are beige, with chrome and white bespoke, contemporary handles with a grey rectangle inserts that complement the worktops.

The glass sliding doors are inspired an image found on http://www.timaylenphotography.com/post.html#dF90cmlwbGUgcGFuZWwgc2xpZGluZyBwYXRpbyBkb29ycw==  

This image may have been removed.

The doors lean on to the hallway with a stair case inspired by an image taken from https://www.bisca.co.uk/types/stone-staircases-gallery/

The stair case has chrome railings that curve onto tinted glass and a stone styled staircase.

The doors opposite the kitchen doors are a wooden styled unpainted imitation wood doors (in this conceptualisation eco friendly) with square and rectangle boolean shapes.  

The floor of the hallway is hardy  grey / brown carpet that compliments the staircase steps.

This 3d model and the accompanying music track of the same name was produced, mixed, modelled, and composited by Darren Justin James for Justin Empire.