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#contemporary homes theme
panntofolaio · 1 year
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vacant and void
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kernigkrafts · 3 months
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How can you effectively combine vintage and modern furniture styles in your home?
Vintage vs. Modern Furniture: Comparing and Contrasting Different Styles and How to Incorporate Them into Your Home Vintage Furniture: Characteristics: Historical Influence: Reflects styles from past eras, often with intricate detailing and craftsmanship. Materials: Typically made from solid wood, featuring rich finishes and sometimes ornate designs. Unique Pieces: Often one-of-a-kind or…
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hyperlexichypatia · 8 months
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As I keep shouting into the void, pathologizers love shifting discussion about material conditions into discussion about emotional states.
I rant approximately once a week about how the brain maturity myth transmuted “Young adults are too poor to move out of their parents’ homes or have children of their own” into “Young adults are too emotionally and neurologically immature to move out of their parents’ homes or have children of their own.”
I’ve also talked about the misuse of “enabling” and “trauma” and “dopamine” .
And this is a pattern – people coin terms and concepts to describe material problems, and pathologization culture shifts them to be about problems in the brain or psyche of the person experiencing them. Now we’re talking about neurochemicals, frontal lobes, and self-esteem instead of talking about wages, wealth distribution, and civil rights. Now we can say that poor, oppressed, and exploited people are suffering from a neurological/emotional defect that makes them not know what’s best for themselves, so they don’t need or deserve rights or money.
Here are some terms that have been so horribly misused by mental health culture that we’ve almost entirely forgotten that they were originally materialist critiques.
Codependency What it originally referred to: A non-addicted person being overly “helpful” to an addicted partner or relative, often out of financial desperation. For example: Making sure your alcoholic husband gets to work in the morning (even though he’s an adult who should be responsible for himself) because if he loses his job, you’ll lose your home. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/07/08/opinion/codependency-addiction-recovery.html What it’s been distorted into: Being “clingy,” being “too emotionally needy,” wanting things like affection and quality time from a partner. A way of pathologizing people, especially young women, for wanting things like love and commitment in a romantic relationship.
Compulsory Heterosexuality What it originally referred to: In the 1980 in essay "Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence," https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/493756 Adrienne Rich described compulsory heterosexuality as a set of social conditions that coerce women into heterosexual relationships and prioritize those relationships over relationships between women (both romantic and platonic). She also defines “lesbian” much more broadly than current discourse does, encompassing a wide variety of romantic and platonic relationships between women. While she does suggest that women who identify as heterosexual might be doing so out of unquestioned social norms, this is not the primary point she’s making. What it’s been distorted into: The patronizing, biphobic idea that lesbians somehow falsely believe themselves to be attracted to men. Part of the overall “Women don’t really know what they want or what’s good for them” theme of contemporary discourse.
Emotional Labor What it originally referred to: The implicit or explicit requirement that workers (especially women workers, especially workers in female-dominated “pink collar” jobs, especially tipped workers) perform emotional intimacy with customers, coworkers, and bosses above and beyond the actual job being done. Having to smile, be “friendly,” flirt, give the impression of genuine caring, politely accept harassment, etc. https://weld.la.psu.edu/what-is-emotional-labor/ What it’s been distorted into: Everything under the sun. Everything from housework (which we already had a term for), to tolerating the existence of disabled people, to just caring about friends the way friends do. The original intent of the concept was “It’s unreasonable to expect your waitress to care about your problems, because she’s not really your friend,” not “It’s unreasonable to expect your actual friends to care about your problems unless you pay them, because that’s emotional labor,” and certainly not “Disabled people shouldn’t be allowed to be visibly disabled in public, because witnessing a disabled person is emotional labor.” Anything that causes a person emotional distress, even if that emotional distress is rooted in the distress-haver’s bigotry (Many nominally progressive people who would rightfully reject the bigoted logic of “Seeing gay or interracial couples upsets me, which is emotional labor, so they shouldn’t be allowed to exist in public” fully accept the bigoted logic of “Seeing disabled or poor people upsets me, which is emotional labor, so they shouldn’t be allowed to exist in public”).
Battered Wife Syndrome What it originally referred to: The all-encompassing trauma and fear of escalating violence experienced by people suffering ongoing domestic abuse, sometimes resulting in the abuse victim using necessary violence in self-defense. Because domestic abuse often escalates, often to murder, this fear is entirely rational and justified. This is the reasonable, justified belief that someone who beats you, stalks you, and threatens to kill you may actually kill you.
What it’s been distorted into: Like so many of these other items, the idea that women (in this case, women who are victims of domestic violence) don’t know what’s best for themselves. I debated including this one, because “syndrome” was a wrongful framing from the beginning – a justified and rational fear of escalating violence in a situation in which escalating violence is occurring is not a “syndrome.” But the original meaning at least partially acknowledged the material conditions of escalating violence.
I’m not saying the original meanings of these terms are ones I necessarily agree with – as a cognitive liberty absolutist, I’m unsurprisingly not that enamored of either second-wave feminism or 1970s addiction discourse. And as much as I dislike what “emotional labor” has become, I accept that “Women are unfairly expected to care about other people’s feelings more than men are” is a true statement.
What I am saying is that all of these terms originally, at least partly, took material conditions into account in their usage. Subsequent usage has entirely stripped the materialist critique and fully replaced it with emotional pathologization, specifically of women. Acknowledgement that women have their choices constrained by poverty, violence, and oppression has been replaced with the idea that women don’t know what’s best for themselves and need to be coercively “helped” for their own good. Acknowledgement that working-class women experience a gender-and-class-specific form of economic exploitation has been rebranded as yet another variation of “Disabled people are burdensome for wanting to exist.”
Over and over, materialist critiques are reframed as emotional or cognitive defects of marginalized people. The next time you hear a superficially sympathetic (but actually pathologizing) argument for “Marginalized people make bad choices because…” consider stopping and asking: “Wait, who are we to assume that this person’s choices are ‘bad’? And if they are, is there something about their material conditions that constrains their options or makes the ‘bad’ choice the best available option?”
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caykeisart · 1 year
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Basement - Underground
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Basement - large transitional underground medium tone wood floor and brown floor basement idea with a standard fireplace and brown walls
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mcmansionhell · 23 days
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2007-core nostalgia extravaganza
Quick PSA: someone on Facebook is apparently impersonating me using an account called "McMansion Hell 2.0" -- If you see it, please report! Thanks!
Howdy folks! I hope if you were born between 1995 and 2001 you're ready for some indelible pre-recession vibes because I think this entire house, including the photos have not been touched since that time.
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This Wake County, NC house, built in 2007, currently boasts a price tag of 1.7 million smackaroos. Its buxom 4 bedrooms and 4.5 baths brings the total size to a completely reasonable and not at all housing-bubble-spurred 5,000 square feet.
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I know everyone (at least on TikTok) thinks 2007 and goes immediately to the Tuscan theming trend that was super popular at the time (along with lots of other pseudo-euro looks, e.g. "french country" "tudor" etc). In reality, a lot of decor wasn't particularly themed at all but more "transitional" which is to say, neither contemporary nor super traditional. This can be pulled off (in fact, it's where the old-school Joanna Gaines excelled) but it's usually, well, bland. Overwhelmingly neutral. Still, these interiors stir up fond memories of the last few months before mommy was on the phone with the bank crying.
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I think I've seen these red/navy/beige rugs in literally every mid-2000s time capsule house. I want to know where they came from first and how they came to be everywhere. My mom got one from Kirkland's Home back in the day. I guess the 2010s equivalent would be those fake distressed overdyed rugs.
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I hate the kitchen bench trend. Literally the most uncomfortable seating imaginable for the house's most sociable room. You are not at a 19th century soda fountain!!! You are a salesforce employee in Ohio!!!
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You could take every window treatment in this house and create a sampler. A field guide to dust traps.
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Before I demanded privacy, my parents had a completely beige spare bedroom. Truly random stuff on the walls. An oversized Monet poster they should have kept tbh. Also putting the rug on the beige carpet here is diabolical.
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FYI the term "Global Village Coffeehouse" originates with the design historian Evan Collins whose work with the Consumer Aesthetics Research Institute!!!!
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This photo smells like a Yankee Candle.
Ok, now onto the last usable photo in the set:
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No but WHY is the house a different COLOR??????? WHAT?????
Alright, I hope you enjoyed this special trip down memory lane! Happy (American) Labor Day Weekend! (Don't forget that labor is entitled to all it creates!)
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!
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danielleurbansblog · 2 years
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Review: Home of the Heart
Synopsis: A heartwarming novel of complicated families, new neighbors, and fresh hope from a New York Times bestselling author who writes “Southern comfort in a book.” —Sheila Roberts  Allie Logan has her hands full with a bad breakup, a struggling renovation business, a sister who won’t stop flaunting her engagement ring, and a grandmother who keeps wandering off at the most inopportune times.…
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whirlybirbs · 8 days
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— NOISE COMPLAINT ; eijiro kirishima ; 切島
summary: red riot feels really bad about absolutely wrecking the shit out of your treasured plants, or eijiro kirishima falls in love at first sight. pairing: f!reader / pro hero!red riot word count: 3.7k tags: mutual pining, fluff/comfort, humor, very gentlemanly make-out, reader is a fan of red riot, mention of ingenium thirst (truth) a/n: kiri might be a twenty-seven year old pro hero in this fic but he is an absolute lovesick virgin who gets all his romantic cues from k-dramas. you cannot force me to think otherwise.
This is exactly the sort of night you needed.
The television, low and quiet, drones on as a deep-dive video on terrariums plays. Your apartment is clean — dishes done, laundry folded and trash taken out. There's a new candle burning on the coffee table, and a Dynamight-themed, cucumber-melon eye mask plastered to your delightedly thoughtless expression.
It's supposed to be good for dark circles. It kinda burns. You wonder if maybe that's, like, part of the gimmick. Y'know. Burns. Dynamight. 
Whatever.
No thoughts. Only the pleasure of turning everything off — brain included — for a perfect Friday night, complete with a mediocre glass of wine and no pants. 
The oversized Red Riot t-shirt clinging to your frame is your favorite. You've had it since college — it's a simple red tee with REAL MEN RIOT blazoned across the front, complete with your favorite hero popping a cheeky, shark-like grin and a double bicep. It's faded, stretched out, and broken in but it's also clean, and it smells like fabric softener and comfort.
This is the life. 
Even Twitter is decidedly pretty calm tonight. 
You're scrolling through your timeline, snickering at your friends' recent thirst tweets over Ingenium's recent GQ Japan shoot when it starts.
Apparently, your upstairs neighbors are home.
You thought those guys were out of town for the week. 
You've had beautiful, silent bliss for too long. The buck stops tonight, you suppose.
There's a shout overhead, then a scramble. Another voice joins the fray, and you swear you hear someone call someone else an idiot. You frown deeply as your eyes trail upwards. You wait, expecting more noise, but unsettling silence follows.
Your eye twitches.
Annoyance tips into a simmering rage.
The apartment complex is old. It's in decent shape, and the rent isn't half bad, but the walls are thin. Your upstairs neighbors have been like this as long as you can remember: shouting, stomping, fighting... Some nights it's like being subjected to musical chairs, modern contemporary tap dance, and experimental sound drum solos all at once. 
Your first week was the worst. You dragged yourself up the back to knock on their door and politely negotiate some silence — but the man who opened the door was less than pleased to have his little dude-bro circle-jerk interrupted. He told you to fuck off, get bent, and leave him the fuck alone. 
Then, before he slammed the door in your face, he procured the sort of audacity only assholes possessed and laughed at your Red Riot shirt — which is just plain unforgivable, frankly. 
"That guy's a fuckin' pussy." 
Sure, sure, sure, right, right, right.
The interaction told you everything you needed to know about the two (or four?) men who lived upstairs. They were losers. And they were fuckin' annoying. 
And, as it turns out, manufacturing bad batches of Trigger. 
You don't know that yet, but truth be told it isn't exactly shocking.
Maybe it's your fault for picking an apartment complex in this part of Tokyo. This part of Arawaka Ward is rarely found on those top-ten-neighborhoods-for-young-professionals lists, but it's affordable! And for day laborers like you, it worked. And hey, in recent months, the crime rate has gone down at least 5% — which only quelled the anxieties of your mom and dad by about the same percentage. 
The candle on the coffee table flickers, and you're about to turn back to your slow Twitter feed when there's another bang upstairs — this one admittedly loud enough to send a wave through your wine beside you. You slip your eyes slowly to the glass, perched on a coaster, as another bang rattles your apartment. You reach to still the vibrating glass on the side table. 
That's when the shouting really starts.
And it's when you notice the growing brightness of red and blue lights outside the window.
The apartment complex is pretty big. There are about sixty residents and six floors. You lucked out and managed to snagone of the last available Western-facing studios with a balcony — which made for a perfect plant haven. 
It was a recent hobby, but one that quickly became your calm after the chaos of the day-to-day. Working for the city's Heroics Response Department left you picking up the physical pieces (literally) of a lot of lives. Your quirk might be the usual, run-of-the-mill strength-based ability, but it comes in handy in the aftermath of property damage due to — what the Nation's Safety Commission has labeled — "villain-aggressed encounters". 
All in all, it's a good gig. It's physically demanding but rewarding. The pay is good, you've got union benefits, and you even have a per-diem schedule. It keeps you busy, and though it's not your father's construction business, it's a career path your parents are proud of. 
The slice-of-heaven balcony is bustling with plants. Some are happier than others, sure, but it's pretty. You've admittedlyformed an emotional bond with those vines, leaves, and flowers. 
It's perfect.
It's also perfect for snooping whenever things like this go down in your complex, or the sister complex across the parking lot. 
The shouting match upstairs is escalating, and you take the moment to tip-toe towards your balcony door to peek outside. It looks like two or three police cruisers have pulled up outside. Maybe someone called for a noise complaint? Maybe the property manager was tired of dealing with those losers?
Cackling to yourself, and hoping for a vindicating show of revenge (NO ONE CALLS RED RIOT A PUSSY), you yank open your balcony door and slip outside just as the sound of a pot crashing meets your ears.
Then:
"Shit, shit, shit—"
There's someone on the balcony. That someone's boot is currently stuck in an empty terracotta pot you were saving for spring. Your eyes are wide as you watch the shadow leap to his other foot, lose his balance, and unceremoniously knock over your entire, six-foot-tall, and well-treasured plant stand. You slap a hand over your mouth mid-shriek, hands flying to try and save whatever you can. 
You fail.
Eijiro Kirishima freezes.
What the fu—
It takes a second.
Like, a full second. Maybe even two. Your brain can't make sense of the sight before you. Neither can his, really. 
There's a girl on this balcony. A pretty girl. Like, mega pretty. Like soft and warm and cute and you smell kinda like vanilla — and there's... You're wearing his merch. His merch and... nothing else. Nothing else but a Dynamight eye mask and a pair of fluffy socks. 
...Is this what it's like to fall in love at first sight?
Shit.
Red Riot is on your balcony.
The Red Riot.
Red Riot, the hero in question, catches himself staring. His wide eyes openly wander over your figure (woah, okay, hello thighs), and the second he realizes it, he quickly snaps his eyes up to your face with a mortified expression. "Uh... hi!"
"...Hi...?"
Your expression is tied between shame, fear, and sheepishness as you blink once at him, then twice at the mess of your hobby's destruction. There's dirt everywhere, a plant stand blocking the doorway, and carnage. Your precious babies have been murdered. 
By Red Riot.
And... Red Riot is on your balcony. 
You repeat: Red Riot is on your balcony. 
Abort mission, abort mission.
Your lips part, your mouth hangs open, and every single thought in your head seems to stutter. Kirishima winces as you look down dejectedly at your plants (or, what remains) before he speaks.
"I, uh— is it cool if I..." he points upwards, "Use your balcony?" 
You're speechless.
You draw your mouth shut and nod hurriedly.
"Thanks," he grins, giving you a thumbs up — and a smile. A toothy, cute, nervous smile, "Lemme just... I gotta handle something. B-But, I'll be back. I'll help fix this mess — just... five minutes, okay?"
It hits you suddenly that his voice sounds different from all those interviews you've watched. It's a little warmer, a little raspier, a little less heroic. It's cute. 
Your brain is still having a hard time connecting the words coming out of his mouth to the scene before you — like, yes frontal lobe, this is real. This is happening.
Red Riot is real and Red Riot is on your balcony. 
He's shockingly gentle when he finally frees his boot from your terracotta pot, setting it down with purposeful delicacy — he even whispers 'please stay' as he props it upright — and then steps back to eye the balcony above yours like an athlete remembering a gameplan. 
He's trying to figure out the best way up. 
How he even got up here is news to you. 
(It was Uravity, as it turns out. They've been patrolling together more in this Ward.)
Red Riot is huge. Like, huge. 
Broad shoulders, rippling biceps, and long, fluffy crimson hair. It's daunting to realize how tall he is in person. The guy is a beast — everyone knows it — but his chivalrous nature is that thing that usually draws in his fans. It's no secret that Red Riot is sweet. He openly champions the need to be a good role model for men everywhere. Y'know, you can be strong and nice!
A sharp canine glints in your apartment's light as he pokes his tongue out and thinks for a second. 
Then, he settles on his plan. 
"You might wanna head inside," Red Riot says as he rolls his shoulders and bounces on the balls of his feet; he's readying up for a fight — and you blink as the beautiful realization dawns on you, "This could get kinda loud."
Loud?
Oh my god.
Is he here for your upstairs neighbors?
Oh my god, he is. 
Your jaw falls open as you bark out a laugh — it's an incredulous rasp that sends you into a spiral of joy; you're not a vengeful person by any means but...
"They're gonna shit themselves," you grin, your eyes alight with pure delight and a spark of something that reminds Kirishima a lot little bit of Bakugo, "They called you a pussy—"
Kirishima's brows shoot upwards as he pauses. He was about to jump and dig his hands into the underside of the balcony, but his quirk is stalling at your words. There's a roaring fire blazing in your eyes, one that screams retribution. 
It's... comical.
You cackle again at him with a wide grin, hissing conspiratorily. "They made fun of my shirt!"
You point down at the REAL MEN RIOT tee with both hands, your face set in a look of vindicated glee. Then, the second realization of the night hits — that you've got no pants on, and that stupid, goofy Dynamight eye mask is still on your face. You make a soft sound of embarrassment and tug your shirt down lower, trying to cover up. He cannot see your underwear. No. No way, no fucking way. Without a single word, you reach up, snatch the Dynamight eye mask off your face, and whip it off the balcony without a second thought. 
Slowly, Kirishima's face splits into a pointy grin. 
Holy shit, he's so fucking hot. 
"Oh, man," Red Riot rumbles, his face cracking into a sharp, playful smirk, "That's real rude. I might have t' teach these guys some manners."
Your smile returns, washing away the wobbly look of embarrassment sticking to your cheeks. 
Man, it sure is cute.
You are really cute, Kirishima realizes.
"Right! And who calls Red Riot a pussy?" you counter excitedly, before reigning it in and awkwardly lowering your arms as you try to tug your shirt down to hide the tops of your thighs again. Your glee has stifled a little bit, but it only reaffirms Kirishima's duty to wrap this all up. 
"Yea, that's, like, super misogynistic," he muses as his quirk kicks in and his hands flick into a hardened state. It's insaneto witness the way his large hands transform into weapons with a single breath. You can see the jagged extension of his quirk working up his large arms, too, "Lemme just have a lil' word with these boys, alright? Head on inside, I'll be back in a sec'."
Then, with graceful ease, he hops upwards with a little hup before latching to the base of the upstairs neighbor's balcony. 
It's insane how effortless it is for him to haul himself up the balcony, his hands dug into the cement. His upper body strength is insane. He's scaling the terrace, alternating his grip. He disappears into the dark, swinging his body upwards and reaching his destination.
You tamp down your awe in favor of heeding his directions: head inside.
You're closing the balcony door when you hear Red Riot's voice greet the unexpecting gaggle.
"Hey, fellas! I heard you guys are some super fans. Got anything you want me to sign?"
You snicker to yourself as you hear the beginning of a fight. 
Again, as it turns out, the guys upstairs sucked. Like, mega sucked. They'd been responsible for several recent Trigger overdoses; Uravity and Red Riot were working with law enforcement to track the small-time manufacturers — which explains why they'd been so quiet lately. They suspected someone was on their tail. 
As Red Riot scaled their balcony, law enforcement waited to break down their door. They arrested the four men (Seriously? Four? In that studio?) without much incident — however, you did spy a broken nose on one of them as they were hauled into the back of the awaiting cruisers. 
Sweet, sweet revenge. 
By the time your neighbors are carted off, you've shimmed into some sweats and made a half-assed attempt to look sort ofpresentable, all while firing off a few contextually incomprehensible texts into your group chat.
red riot has seen me in my underwear wtf do i do know kiss him?
You're really weighing your options when there's a knock on your balcony entry. It's gentle and cordial. You turn, head snapping, and spy that trademarked (and a dozen times retweeted) smile through the glass. He waves. 
Your heart leaps into your throat. You try to remember to breathe as you shuffle over and tug the balcony door open. The night air is cool.
Be like the night air.
Stay cool.
Eijiro feels so silly. And guilty. And honestly? Really into you. 
You're still wearing that shirt — the one with his face on it. You have opted to put on pants, but Kirishima still reminds himself to keep his eyes on your face. No ogling. That's not very gentlemanly. 
There's a beat of awkward silence as the two of you wait for the other to speak, and Kirishima is the one to break it with a raspy laugh.
"I wanted to apologize about your plants," a large hand moves to rub the back of his neck, "I cleaned up as best I could. I'm really, really sorry."
You wave him off, leaning into the doorframe. "No, it's okay! It's nothing I can't... fix. I think?"
You look beyond him to the catastrophic mess of plant matter. He must have tried tidying up while you rattled off the rapid-fire texts in the group chat. 
Red Riot's face warbles into something tied between mortification and guilt. "Please forgive me."
"Seriously!" you cry, waving your hands as you try to placate his dejected expression, "Please don't feel bad. It's a fair trade, y'know. Those guys upstairs were, like, the worst."
"I can only imagine," Eijiro concedes, frowning a little, "They didn't give you too much trouble, did they?"
You shake your head and laugh a little, "Aside from insulting my favorite hero to my face? Not really."
Kirishima can feel his face get a little hot. He shifts from boot to boot. His smile is a little woozy. "So... you're a fan?"
You don't need to tell him the underwear you have on matches the shirt — red, with an embroidered RR on the front. You keep that to yourself. You just nod happily.
"Really?" his grin cracks into something so excitable it makes your entire stomach flip, "I don't meet a lotta fans who are..."
His words drift off.
He's staring at your eyes. You're so... soft. Warm. Your eyes are swirling with quiet, astonished adoration and it's making Kirishima feel like he's floating. 
"Who are...?" your brow quirks as you lean deeper into the doorframe, trying to coax out the rest of the sentence.
"Gorgeous," he breathes, his posture relaxing a little as he soaks in your expression.
It's like getting sucker punched to the sternum.
All the wind rushed out of your lungs.
The soft moment only lasts a beat, because suddenly Red Riot's face screws up and he waves his hands hurriedly. "Wait, no. Hold on, I mean — all of my fans are gorgeous, because, uh, they're my fans and I love them, right? It's not like they're not gorgeous, I just — I'm... I... My fans are, like, usually dudes? A-And that's totally cool because dudes can be gorgeous, too, y'know? But—"
You're laughing.
Kirishima is realizing he was not paying enough attention in his agency's PR training last month and you're laughing.
"I get it," you giggle, crossing your arms and grinning up at him, "I mean, I definitely don't think I'm gorgeous but—"
"You are," he assures firmly, his expression serious.
Are you dead?
Are you, like, literally ascending to a higher plane right now?
There's no fucking way this is happening. 
Your lips part in quiet shock as you bite back a smile that threatens to cramp up your cheeks. Kirishima eats it up, his posture perking up at the way you seem to melt at his compliment. His smile is boyish — almost dizzy. 
You duck a bashful look towards the tiled floor of the balcony, not really giving a singular shit that your beloved monstera has been stomped on.
Kirishima clears his throat, then — in a move he totally hasn't swooned over in those K-dramas he's secretly obsessed with, that'd be ridiculous — he props his arm up against your door and leans over you. Your faces are close in the warm light of the balcony. 
Your eyes stutter up his abdomen, chest, jaw, lips, and eyes. Kirishima notices. It's really, really cute.
"Are you, uh... Are you seeing anyone?" 
Of course, Red Riot would ask that. Red Riot, the king of chivalry. How is something like that so endearing? For the tenth time tonight, he makes your stomach flip.
You shake your head no, a little too stunned to speak.
"Cool," Eijiro musters over a shake of nerves, "Cool. Okay. Uh, then would it... would it be okay if I bought you some new plants?"
You nod, swallowed entirely by his shadow. He's so fucking huge. 
"And if I took you to dinner?" 
Another nod.
"...And — shit. You're, like, so cute," the smooth persona he's put on melts a little as his eyes roam your face; you feel so... shy, "I was gonna ask you something else but..."
"My number?" you offer, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you maintain eye contact. 
Is it hot? You're sweating. Is he sweating? He's hot. 
Eijiro nods, absolutely mesmerized by the way you tug your lip between your teeth. "That. Yea."
He has to fight back the urge to bite his knuckle when you turn away and move towards your kitchen to snag your phone. Kirishima stays put, allowing himself one moment of ogling. When you turn around, he's clearing his throat and crossing a boot over his ankle. 
He's still leaning up against the doorway.
"Here," you slip him the phone.
Eiijiro takes it — then hesitates for a second.
"...You're not gonna leak my number, are you?"
You have to laugh. You rub your cheek and shake your head before crossing your arms and looking up at him. "If you think I'm going to do anything to fumble this, you're wrong." 
Fumble this? Fumble him? He's the one that is at risk of fumbling, are you serious?
Eijiro barks out a surprised laugh as he enters his number, shoots a quick text his way then ignores the buzz in his back pocket. He hands your phone back and tries so fucking hard to ignore the way your fingers brush his. 
He got your number.
Holy shit, he got your number.
"Hey, Red Riot?"
He blinks down at you. "Y-Yea?"
You gesture for him to come closer, and he obeys easily — he bends a bit at the waist, his hair falling along his shoulders as he smiles down at you in the threshold of your apartment.
"Is everything alri—?"
You pop a chaste kiss against his cheek. 
Or, try. 
As you hop up onto your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, Eijiro is turning his head at the sound of Urvaity calling his name simultaneously. Trajectory failed, and now it's lips and lips instead of lips on cheek — and honestly? He owes Ochaco one for this. 
Red Riot melts — actually, truly, genuinely melts. His posture slumps down as you let out a shocked little sound of apology. But, Eijiro doesn't mind, and fuck, neither do you — because one hand braces against the doorframe above your head while his other hand is suddenly on your waist. He steadies himself, and damn. Damn. 
He breaks away when Uravity calls his name again. Kirishima is breathless and blushing, and your knees feel like jello. 
"I... Uh, I gotta go—"
"Yea, totally," you breathe, swallowing down the burn of unfiltered attraction, "Sorry, I was trying to kiss your cheek—"
Another call of his name. Red Riot curses softly before hollering a 'COMING!' over his shoulder, out past the edge of the balcony. 
When he turns back, he's fast to sweep you into another kiss — this one hotter than before. This one draws you into his chest, sending your hands colliding with the hot skin of his chest. There's muscle and scars and heat beneath your fingertips. His hand curls around your lower back, and you nearly moan. 
He peels himself away with an apologetic look as he backs towards the edge of the balcony. "I gotta go — I'll text you once patrol is over. Is that okay? I'm serious about the plants. And dinner." 
All you can do is nod.
Eijiro is kinda proud of himself for stunning you stupid with that kiss.
This is exactly the sort of night you needed.
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fahye · 4 months
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book recs: june 2024
it's been a weird few months of swinging wildly between mood reading of new things and needing to reread old favourites. all of these were new-to-me, and * means I read an ARC so they're not out yet BUT keep your eyes peeled/preorder if you like the sound of them.
SOMEONE YOU CAN BUILD A NEST IN by john wiswell - sapphic monster romance but make it asexual rep (woo!) between a protagonist who is usually a ball of shapeshifting goo, and a woman whose awful family is trying to hunt down the shapeshifting monster. it's both delightfully gruesome and a sweet, angry story about two hurt people finding and saving one another. this book deserves to become tumblr-famous.
LORD OF SCOUNDRELS by loretta chase - an absolute platinum-level classic in regency romance history, and for good reason. jessica trent: best heroine to ever appear on the page. wild hijinks, superb feelings, jessica can we please be best friends so you can teach me all about your antiques dealership.
THE SAINT OF BRIGHT DOORS by vajra chandrasekera - everyone describes this as 'impossible to describe' and they're right. truly original urban-ish fantasy about the oppression of underclasses, magic, identity, the inconvenience of being prophesied to kill your father, and a support group for failed messiahs. it's splendid and will stretch your mind like a muscle.
ALL THE SINNERS BLEED - by s.a. cosby - a contemporary crime thriller about a black sheriff in the american south trying to catch a serial killer in the face of systemic racism and obstruction. dark themes, wonderfully written, extremely gripping: I read it in a day.
THE UNDERHISTORY by kaaron warren - an elderly woman running tours of her infamously 'haunted' family home is confronted with a group of dangerous escaped killers looking for somewhere to hide. half slowburn crime horror and half a fantastic, meandering exploration of one person's history. you all know I love a vaguely fucked-up house, and this one comes with an older protagonist hiding secrets of her own.
THE DEATH OF VIVEK OJI by akwaeke emezi - there's a new emezi book coming out soon so I finally let myself read this one! a brief, bittersweet slap of a novel about gender and sexuality and family and longing, told in emezi's uniquely electrifying prose style. I wish I could write like this.
THE FRIEND ZONE EXPERIMENT* by zen cho - zen's first contemporary romance! inspired by kdrama tropes! a hardworking singaporean entrepreneur heroine in london! I enjoyed the romance itself but even more I enjoyed watching renee fight to prove herself in the face of various terrible men.
THE FORMIDABLE MISS CASSIDY* by meihan boey - if susan sto helit is your favourite discworld character, you will love the hell out of this. no-nonsense magical governess deals with folklore monsters and social drama in 19th century singapore. lively and heaps of fun. I wish it was an episodic buffy-esque tv show.
THE PAIRING* by casey mcquiston - two exes accidentally reunite on a food & wine tour of europe for the sluttiest and most self-indulgent bisexual summer ever. food porn, drinks porn, european scenery porn, feelings porn, porn-porn: this is a book that is 95% Various Vibes and Porn and if that sounds like your kind of thing, you'll love it. warning: will make you very hungry.
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dceasesd · 4 months
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why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.3)
go check out part 1 and part 2 if you'd like! this is a long one, sorry guys.
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if you haven't already i'd recommend you check out pt. 1 & pt. 2 (linked above), but if you haven't checked them out i've been going over some of the main things people have been criticizing ba's characterization for: 1. the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one" 2. his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character 3. the neighbor's kid interaction
alright, so this last point is purely based off of one page of the entire comic: the one where the child of one of jason's neighbors is dragged inside his home when his mother see's jason coming.
first off, i love this page. it might be my favorite page in the entire issue. everything about it is great. just thought i needed to say that.
anyway, there's some people who are seeing this page and reading it as "jason protects kids! that's one of his big things! why are they scared of him?"
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here's the thing, though: the kid isn't scared of jason, the mom is. the kid is literally playing dress up as the red hood-- he's not scared of jason, if anything he's trying to replicate him. little kids dress up as their heroes all the time; why is this kid any different? it doesn't really make sense for the kid to dress up of something he's scared of (not everyone is as weird bruce wayne), especially a real person that could be a real threat rather than a concept. i doubt you see many kids in gotham dressing up as the joker or something, because that's just asking for trouble.
the dress-up honestly seems like a ploy for attention to me. the kid clearly knows that red hood lives in his building (which is honestly so funny. take off the mask jason you're giving you're position away (actually this is a really good instance for analysis but i'm determined to not go on a tangent)). if the kid knows red hood lives in his building, what better way to get his attention that dressing up as him and playing pretend? if the kid was scared of him, he wouldn't want to draw that sort of attention to himself. if he had a sort of hero-worshippy thing going on like i suspect, then he would want to get jason's attention. to sum it up,
it's the mom who pulls him away when jason nears, because she either a) perceives him as a threat, b) doesn't want her kid to try and replicate him even more, or, the most likely option, both! the kid isn't scared of him, but the mother believes they should be.
once again, we come back to the whole perception vs. reality theme i talked about in part one! we've come full circle, everyone!
when looking at the neighborhood's perspective of the red hood, ba gives us a few contradictory examples. there's the kid and the mother, obviously, but there's also a slew of other citizens who interact with him at the beginning of the issue, both in fear and camaraderie.
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the unhoused man and the people outside of his building clearly have a familiarity and are comfortable with him, while the shopkeeper is terrified and literally has a banned poster on his wall featuring jason (i am so curious what he did to deserve that, if he even did anything at all). from this, it appears that jason's reputation teeters between fearful and familiar-- a sentiment that also colors jason's relationship with his family.
furthermore, this concept underscores just how lonely jason is-- one of the only good relationships he had in his current life was his fucking landlord, for gods sake, and he's dead.
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i think it's important to note that jason doesn't respond to the friendly greetings from the men-- he could attempt to build camaraderie, the roots are there, but he chooses not to. he could work to try and show the mother that her son is safe with him, but he chooses not to. why? jason is obviously lonely (as ba states in the panel below) and he caves pretty easily when damian asks him for help (both of them are so desperate for human interaction its tragic). so why does he distant himself from the community?
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obviously it is in part due to the vigilante lifestyle, but it is also jason's perception of himself and how he believes others perceive him, especially in regards to his family (ba is literally hitting readers in the head with that theme baseball bat).
he doesn't see that the kid with the mask looks up to him, all he sees is the mother pulling him away. he sees the banned poster in the store. and, as ba narrates, "he was sure he'd been forgotten about" by his family. utrh is jason's twisted way of attempting to reach out and connect with bruce, and obviously that doesn't work-- so he chooses loneliness over rejection.
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like in part one, though, damian refutes this idea by describing bruce's perspective, showing how what jason believes differs from actuality. bruce hasn't forgotten about him and doesn't hate him, as he suspected, but instead harbors guilt over the situation and desires to make it better, which jason must come to understand to be able to open the locked door and begin to move past his trauma.
so, that's what the little kid in the red hood outfit looks like to me. i actually have a lot more i'd like to say about the boy wonder, especially in regards to the whole "door to my past life" thing and what ba does with lighting and blocking in his artwork, so i may do a little post on that as well! i was gonna try and shove it into this one, but i've run out of room! i hope you guys liked my analysis, if you'd like to chat about the boy wonder or any other comics, my dms, asks, and reblogs are happily open! thanks for reading! :)) <3
pt. 1 / pt. 2
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blogport · 2 months
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EPOXYSHİNE - DRAGON+ (4)
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When it comes to innovative interior design, the choice of flooring plays a pivotal role in defining the overall aesthetic and functionality of a space. Among the various options available, metallic floors have emerged as a striking trend, blending style with durability. Their unique finish not only adds a contemporary edge but also reflects light, creating a sense of openness in any room. Meanwhile, alternatives like quartz flooring offer an equally compelling mix of elegance and resilience, perfect for those seeking a natural yet refined look. 
Metallic Floor
Metallic floor have become an exciting trend in modern interior and exterior design, offering a sleek and futuristic aesthetic. This type of flooring is typically made using materials like epoxy, polished concrete, or terrazzo, which can be infused with metallic pigments that reflect light. The unique appearance of a metallic floor allows for a striking look, making a bold statement in any space.
One of the significant advantages of metallic floor finishes is their durability and resistance to wear and tear. Unlike traditional flooring options, metallic surfaces are often resistant to stains, scratches, and impact damage, making them ideal for high-traffic areas such as commercial spaces or homes with pets and children. Additionally, they can be easily cleaned and maintained, preserving their luster and shine over time.
In terms of design versatility, metallic floors can be customized to fit various interior themes, from industrial chic to modern minimalism. Available in a range of colors and finishes, they can seamlessly blend into the environment or stand out as a focal point. Furthermore, incorporating metallic flooring can enhance the overall ambiance of a space, reflecting light and creating an illusion of depth, thus making a room feel larger and more open.
Quartz Flooring
When it comes to choosing a flooring option that combines beauty and durability, Quartz flooring stands out as a premier choice. This type of flooring is composed primarily of natural quartz crystals, which are not only aesthetically pleasing but also incredibly tough. As a result, Quartz flooring is resistant to scratches, stains, and other wear and tear that can occur over time.
Another significant advantage of Quartz flooring is its versatility. It is available in a vast array of colors and patterns, making it a suitable option for any home or office decor. Whether you're looking for a sleek modern look or a more traditional style, Quartz flooring can provide the perfect finish to your space.
Furthermore, Quartz flooring is known for its low maintenance requirements. Unlike other flooring types that may need frequent refinishing or special cleaning products, Quartz flooring can be easily cleaned with mild soap and water. This not only saves time but also makes it an economical choice in the long run.
Concrete Floor
When it comes to flooring options, concrete floor have risen in popularity due to their durability and aesthetic appeal. Unlike traditional flooring materials, concrete can be customized in various finishes and colors, allowing homeowners and businesses to create a unique look that complements their design vision.
In addition to their visual versatility, concrete floors are incredibly strong and resistant to wear and tear. This makes them an ideal choice for high-traffic areas, where traditional flooring may suffer from scratches, dents, and fading over time. Concrete not only stands up to heavy use but is also easy to maintain, requiring only simple cleaning and occasional sealing.
Sustainability is another key advantage of concrete flooring. As a naturally abundant material, concrete has a lower environmental impact compared to other flooring options.
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thepersonnamedsam · 10 months
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she got this - op81
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pairing: oscar piastri x academic!girlfriend
summary: oscar visits his girlfriends bachelor thesis defending
word count: 1.3k
face claim: phoebe bridgers
warnings: a swear word, some angst - mentions of a panic attack
note: this is for my baby @lissyontour, you got this, pls wish her good luck for today <3
oh and it’s my first oscar fic, hihi, enjoy it
and there is some of the bachelor thesis… i had to include some of it, thanks to chat gpt
masterlist / taglist
Fuck, was she nervous. Her head was spinning and her legs were jelly - no, scratch that - her legs were liquid.
Her eyes were trying to focus on something, just something that would help her back to reality. She knew she was somewhere else right now, somewhere where she shouldn’t be.
Why wasn’t Oscar with her? Why was she alone? This was not how she planned it!
Her heart was beating, she felt it nearly pop out of her chest. It almost hurt. Oscar should’ve been here with her, but a last minute meeting with Zak just threw her plans overboard.
Her breath quickend and her hands searched for the only safe thing she could think of, her phone. Her fingers quickly glided over the screen and Oscars answer made her hold her breath for a second.
Standing in front of the auditorium, the heavy red doors made her uneasy. It’s gonna be time soon.
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Oscar had to hold himself back not to text her that he was actually sitting in the front row and waiting for her to enter the room. He knew it was cruel. But he just had to do it.
He was so much more nervous than her. He watched her write that bachelor thesis for over six months now. At every race she was sitting in his drivers room with at least ten books and her laptop. Only just for the last five laps she came out of the room to watch him race.
He appreciated her coming, she could’ve just stayed at home and studied, but she always came with. Multitasking her way through her studies. And he was so proud of her. There was no way he would miss her final step of the way.
And he knew his cruelty was all worth it, as she stepped into the room and her eyes spotted his. Her whole face lit up and he could almost spot some tears of relief.
„What are you doing here?“, she mouthed. A small smile on her lips. „Supporting you“, he mouthed back, matching her smile.
„Welcome Ms y/l/n!“, her professor welcomed her. „I am exited to hear you defend your bachelor thesis about; How Greek Mythology influenced modern literature.“
She smiled at her favourite teacher and took out her thesis. She closed her eyes for a second, breathed in and out again. She was ready. Oscar knew she studied English literature and oh did that make her sexy.
But he had no idea of Greek Mythology or modern literature by any means. Yes, he read her thesis at least twice, but did his brain understand anything she meant? It did not. Being the smart one was all her job.
„Welcome Professor McAllister, dear colleagues, guests and friends. I hereby welcome you dearly to my defending of my bachelor thesis: How Greek Mythology influenced modern literature.“
Oscar listened intently and always smiled when she looked at him for reassurance. His heart was swelling with proudness. He soon had a girlfriend with a bachelor degree.
„In the vast tapestry of literary evolution, Greek mythology stands as an enduring thread, weaving its timeless narratives into the very fabric of modern literature. As contemporary authors navigate the labyrinth of inspiration, they find themselves entwined with the rich tapestry of gods, heroes, and mythical creatures that originated in ancient Greece.
The resurgence of interest in Greek mythology can be traced to its profound impact on archetypal storytelling. From the lofty heights of Mount Olympus to the depths of the Underworld, these tales resonate with universal themes that transcend temporal and cultural boundaries. Authors draw from the exploits of Zeus, the sagas of heroes like Achilles, and the tragedies of figures like Oedipus to explore complex facets of human nature. The gods' capriciousness mirrors the unpredictable forces that shape our destinies, while the struggles of mortals against divine intervention echo the perennial human quest for agency in the face of cosmic uncertainty.
Prominent literary figures, from James Joyce to J.K. Rowling, have paid homage to Greek mythology, infusing their works with echoes of ancient narratives. The hero's journey, a concept rooted in the mythic structure of heroes like Perseus and Hercules, serves as a narrative template for protagonists in contemporary novels. These echoes are not mere nostalgic nods; they represent a perennial dialogue between past and present, a dialogue in which timeless themes find new expression.
Moreover, the enduring allure of Greek mythology lies in its malleability. Authors wield the myths as allegorical tools to explore issues ranging from power dynamics and hubris to the nuances of morality. The Hydra of Lerna becomes a metaphor for societal challenges that sprout anew when seemingly eradicated, and the labyrinthine trials of Theseus mirror the complexities of modern ethical dilemmas.
In essence, the enduring influence of Greek mythology on modern literature is a testament to the universality of its themes and the perennial resonance of its characters. As authors continue to delve into the wellspring of ancient tales, they discover not relics of a bygone era, but rather a living reservoir of inspiration that fuels the imagination of generations, perpetuating the eternal dance between the ancient and the contemporary.“
Her voice angelic as it could be, drew in people who never even heard of the topic. You didn’t have to be interested in Greek Mythology to listen to her thesis, because she delivered her speech that even Oscar understood and left him wanting to know more about it.
My god was he proud. He was in awe, his beautiful girlfriend standing up there, speaking about her passion and delivering it in a way he never thought she could.
Even the look on Professor McAllister made him proud. She looked at his girlfriend with a proud smile, nodding along with her and reassuring her. She was gonna ace this.
Oscar was snapped out of it when the whole auditorium clapped. She was standing with the biggest smile on that stage. Oscar just had to get a picture of her. His new wallpaper.
„Thank you, Ms y/l/n. This was magnificent! We‘ll just discuss real quick and we‘ll be back with your grade. You can be proud of yourself, Ms y/l/n“, Professor McAllister told the young woman on stage.
And as soon as they left the room, she squealed and ran to Oscar. He opened his arms and let the girl spring into his embrace. „Hi“, he whispered. „Hi“, she whispered back. „I thought you weren’t coming?“
He laughed, a real deep belly laugh. „I had to surprise you!“ She hit his shoulder and said: „I hate you, but I’m glad you came.“
„You did so well, my love. I am so proud of you! We have to celebrate afterwards, anything you want.“
The time together was cut short, when the door opened again and the four professors walked in again. „Ms y/l/n, please, have a seat“, her professor said and pointed to the chair sat in front of the four.
She nervously walked over to them and smiled at them. „No need to be nervous, you did well, you can be proud of yourself.“
They talked stuff Oscar didn’t understand. But when he saw a big smile form on her face, he knew she received the best grade she could’ve. Proud, that’s the only word that came to Oscar’s mind.
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„I love the boys“, she told Oscar. He smiled up at her and said: „I know you do, but only I can celebrate with you today.“ She giggled and would’ve almost kicked her feet, if it weren’t for the others in the room.
Professor McAllister handed y/n her diploma and told her they’d see each other at official ceremony. After that, Oscar and his girlfriend almost sprinted out of the auditorium.
oscarpiastri
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liked by yninsta, landonorris and 82‘729 others
oscarpiastri how did we get from that to this?
view all 22‘219 comments
yninsta the first one is NOT me, idk where you got this from
user1 weren’t we all at that point during our studies?
user2 yes, yes we were
yninsta glad i wasn’t alone…
oscarpiastri so it was you
yninsta oop-
landonorris congrats, y/n! when we gonna get a lecture about greek mythology from you?
yninsta any day you want
landonorris now?
oscarpiastri no, now she’s busy with me
landonorris ewww, my eyes are scarred, don’t ever come back to the mclaren garage
oscarpiastri i didn’t mean it that way
yninsta he did
landonorris you’re just kids
user3 we love an academic wag
user4 so proud of you, y/n!
mclaren congratulations, y/n, next podium is for you 🍾
yninsta thank you, admin
yninsta thank you, baby
oscarpiastri i am so proud of you, darling
loganseargant i cannot believe i have a friend with a bachelors degree…
yninsta better believe it, american boy
user4 do u even know what a bachelors degree is..?
user5 american slander, we love it
alex_albon we are all proud, y/n
user6 we really are
yninsta thank you all so much, i love you guys so much
georgerussel63 oh no, she’s getting sentimental, let’s stop here guys
°°°
@ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @darleneslane , @mikauraur , @heartmetaphor , @darleneslane , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone
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pmamtraveller · 1 month
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THE QUEST FOR REALITY; ADOLPH VON MENZEL
Adolph von Menzel (1815-1905) was a German painter and printmaker who portrayed life in 19th-century Prussia, historical events, and everyday scenes. He was largely self-taught, and his skills developed practically through lithography and drawing experience.
The Iron Rolling Mill, 1875
This painting captures the intense labour of steelworkers in a Prussian industrial mill. There is a detailed expression, both of the machinery and the workers, illustrating the social condition of working-class people during the Industrial Revolution and Menzel's turn from historical themes to contemporary issues.
The Dinner at the Ball, 1878
It is a portrayal of an elegant high-society scene, coupled with detailed portrayals of fashionable guests and luxurious surroundings, all of which bring out the Biedermeier style. It captures the 19th-century social life, proving Menzel's skill to render social dynamics and intimate moments.
Frederick the Great Playing the Flute at Sanssouci, 1852
It portrays the tranquil scene of Frederick II music-making in his palace. The painting showcases Frederick's dual character as a ruler and as a musician, evincing cultural sophistication and the opulence of his court. The composition is the epitome of Menzel's great admiration for Frederick and his commitment to a history of Prussia done with emotional depth and realism.
Studio Wall, 1872
Menzel painted a nighttime view of his studio wall, with illuminated plaster casts, including death masks and classical figures. This work highlights Menzel's thoughts at the time; he had been ruminating over life and death and artistic posterity. It was a touching memorial to his friend Friedrich Eggers as well as a strong demonstration of his mastery of dramatic lighting.
The Visit From Death, 1844
Death is depicted as a humble professional who is neither wrathful nor unkind. Just simply doing its job and has no ill will for those it visits upon. It even has a sense of respect, taking its clogs off before entering the home. Menzel followed up in 1845 with a hilarious painting that suggests that the arrival of Death isn’t so final after all!
The Balcony Room (1845)
Inspired by his journeys to Paris, Menzel depicts a sparsely furnished apartment full of sunlight. This painting foreshadows impressionist techniques since it's totally oriented with light and atmosphere, marking an important turn in Menzel's career away from historical themes and toward contemporary genre scenes.
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kernigkrafts · 3 months
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2024 Interior Design Trends: What are the latest developments in furniture design, materials, and colors?
As we move into 2024, several exciting interior design trends are shaping the landscape of furniture design, materials, and colors: Furniture Design Trends: Curved and Organic Shapes: Furniture with soft, curved edges and organic shapes is gaining popularity, offering a more fluid and inviting aesthetic. Modular and Versatile Pieces: Modular furniture that can be rearranged or customized to…
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shellseaisms · 6 months
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mint avenue rebuild.
this is another rebuild of a kiwisimming house because I've watched a lot of those back and I made some really interesting decisions with my builds back then. rebuilding them years later and seeing how much I can improve them is really fun, so there might be an influx of these for a little while! obviously I didn't stick to the "mint" theme, but this is a very spacious home that's great for family gameplay. pretty custom content heavy, but it's all listed below if you want the house to look exactly the same in your game.
expansion/stuff packs used: world adventures, high end loft stuff, ambitions, fast lane stuff, generations, pets, master suite stuff, showtime, supernatural, seasons, university life, into the future. store content used: contemporary comfort living (couch), bohemian garden (pouf, string lights). custom content used: find all cc links for this build on the spreadsheet here.
§144,087 furnished, §85,507 unfurnished
4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms
30 x 30 lot size
custom content not included
built in hylewood
download @ patreon | watch me build this house here.
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You KNOW there's no HOA here, so be free, purple lovers. All I can say is wow. 2004 contemporary home built in Eugene, Oregon has 4bds, 4ba, asking $1.85M. I know house prices are out of control, right now, but I swear this house looks no more than $765K, tops.
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In this aerial view, it shows the house painted white on top, so which is it? Love the purple barn.
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The large front porch. Purple doesn't go well w/some colors. I don't care for it w/black, too much, but I really don't like it with this brown floor.
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The front room has the typical oak stairs with balcony. Is that a built-in cabinet in that weird little niche?
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Not much of a grand living room for $1.85M. Oh, look, there's a shelf above the bump-out- you can put shit up there.
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Very awkward layout. Interesting place for a fire extinguisher and bathroom, but it looks like someone is sleeping here.
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This bath goes straight thru to the primary bedroom, so there's a share situation.
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But, first there's a relatively small walk-in closet.
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The primary bedroom has double doors that open to the front porch.
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Open concept family room/kitchen. There's a wall of windows that open to a deck.
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The kitchen's not bad. I wonder if the wisteria over the sink conveys.
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Off the kitchen is a laundry room/pantry.
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This area would serve as the dining room, since there's no other formal space for it, and you can see it opens to the deck.
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There's a guest powder room. I like the sink.
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Pretty big secondary bedroom. Looks like there's trap door access to the attic, in the ceiling.
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This would be bath #2, with fish decals everywhere for an oceanic theme.
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This bedroom is larger and has 2 mirrored closets.
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This room is open to the mezzanine. It looks like it has a door and it does have an en-suite.
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Quite a large en-suite.
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And, finally, bd. #4.
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There's a large family room space up in here. Look at the cubbies along the wall. You could probably sit in there, too.
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The porch and wrap-around deck on the back of the house.
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That's the Willamette River going by.
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This is cute. Looks like a chicken coop. I hate when they put the dog house so far away, though.
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There are 12.27 acres of land, so the description is calling it an estate. (The Poiple Manor House.)
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/85627-Dilley-Ln-Eugene-OR-97405/48457156_zpid/?
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dovkss · 1 year
Text
bakugou using your mouth in the library during a weekly study date with your friends…
word count: 2.2k
warning: 18+; manhandling; blowjob (m receiving); degradation; slapping; public sex; possessive & controlling katsuki; choking & gagging; cum eating; yandere themes; poor eijiro once again :((
all characters are aged up !!
a/n: quick first drabble from my first story “dumb bitch” since a lot of you asked for a part two but I don’t want to do one, I’ll continue more drabbles from the story if asked ! enjoy ! (^_^)
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You and the girls gathered at your usual study spot in the library on a quiet Saturday afternoon. You all were preparing for an exam and knew that studying together would help big time.
Kirishima was also there, like he always was. But he barely spoke. Ever since he discovered you and Bakugou on his bed, sprawled out like heathens, things were awkward to say the least.
You, the girl he’d cared deeply for, had chosen Bakugou over him, and it felt like a dagger was plunged into his soul.
He would think back to before everything went to shit. When classes for the day ended, he would see you leaning on his car when he'd go to the parking lot. You would greet him and lock your arm with his and you both made your way to the other side so he would open the passenger door for you.
You'd beg to go get ice cream or ask if he could take you home so you wouldn't have to take the bus. He would never say no to you, only nod like a dummy. It was like you knew the scent of your perfume made you irresistible to him.
When he would go to open the driver door, the handle would be warm from your ass. The day after the next, you would be back again to do the same thing.
You wanted to apologize to him, but was shut down by Bakugou. His nostrils flared and he rolled his eyes. "He'll get over it, stay away from him. Why? Because I told you to! Don't question me, you're fucking mine."
You respected his wishes, but you felt it was wrong.
You guys settled down at the spacious table, surrounded by shelves stacked with books, each section thoughtfully curated. They housed literary classics, contemporary bestsellers, niche genres, and even rare manuscripts. The atmosphere in the studying section was calm and serene. Soft whispers and the sound of turning pages filled the air.
You opened your rented textbook, and laptop, setting down your regular coffee next to them, ready to dive in.
"God, my head is killing me," Mina whined. Dramatically, she slumped over in her chair and rubbed her temple with two fingers.
"Still? It's been like a week," Momo asked.
"I don't know what's happening to me! Maybe... I'm dying..."
"Don't say that, death isn't funny."
"I never said it was, I'm being serious!"
"You're not gonna die from a headache, Mina. Stop being a baby. Maybe learn how to swallow a pill, it'll help."
Mina groaned and shook her head. "You know I can't do that!"
"Then stop complaining!" Momo snapped back.
You shook your head in disbelief. It seemed that the girls would always find something mundane to argue about. But that was just their dynamic. If there were a day they weren't bickering, you'd be worried.
You glanced up at Kirishima who sat across from you. His head was in his notebook; he was taking notes. You watched him, observing how he studied. His handwriting was a little sloppy, as he seemed to be writing fast. His tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth a little.
He was adorable when he was focused.
He looked up, meeting your gaze. You didn't look away. His red eyes glistened in the sunlight that came through the windows. You smiled at him, being sure to show off your pearly whites.
He sighed and went back to jotting down whatever he was writing. You frowned and opened your mouth to speak up, but you were suddenly yanked up by your arm.
You gasped and dropped the pen that was in your hand. You knew that tight grip of his, it never failed to make you shutter.
"Been tryna reach you for hours, y'know?"
You giggled. "Well I can't be available all the time."
Bakugou wasn't amused. His ears flushed in anger and his jaw clenched.
He dragged you out of the library, you winced when he tightened his grip on you. He was tall, his long strides made it almost impossible for your legs to keep up at a normal pace. Looking back, you were surprised.
Momo sat silently, taking a deep breath. Mina watched in confusion as to where he was taking you and wondered if you’d be back. Kirishima just stared. He seemed calm, like he wasn't worried.
He wasn't.
“Be right back you guys- ow!” You flinched. Bakugou had yanked you by your ear, forcing you in front of him so you couldn’t look anywhere else but ahead.
Leaving the study area, Bakugou took you to an empty part of the library, all the way on the other side. Furthest away from your friends.
He shoved you into one of the shelves and stood in front of you. He towered over you, his wide chest almost caging you in that one spot.
“You wanna embarrass me?” He asked, how voice low and intimidating.
You shook your head. “No… of course not, Katsuki! What did I do?”
His infuriated state didn’t subside. Your innocent question only intensified it.
“You should know better than to ignore me,” he said.
You shook your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry, okay?”
“You always have your phone on you, I’m not stupid.”
You looked up at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “My phone is in my bag, we needed to focus for this exam and I didn’t want to get distracted. I didn’t mean to worry you… forgive me?”
He scoffed at your sudden change in demeanor. You looked at him with those eyes. The very same eyes you gave him whenever you wanted him to take care of you in more ways than one.
“What a fucking whore you are.” He spat at you, his hands running down the sides of your waist.
“You know me so well—after I study, you can come over. I’ll make it up to you!” You smile softly, biting your lip.
Bakugou didn’t react, he just looked at you. It was hard to read him. You were never able to tell what he was thinking. That’s what made him stand out to you in the first place.
“Why are you studying with Kirishima?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Well, that’s how it’s always been. I can’t really control if he’s there or not either…”
“Fucking figure it out. I don’t want you around him, if that means you have to kick those sluts to the curb as well, then so be it.”
He was serious. Of course he was, there was never a moment where he wasn’t. But he didn’t actually expect you to let go of Momo and Mina did he? Your best friends since… forever!
You frowned at his words and your arms dropped from his neck. You fiddled with the hem of your sweater and looked away from him.
When you didn’t give an answer, he brought his hand up to your chin, forcing you to look at him. “So what’s it gonna be?”
You were unsure of how to answer. Obviously, you weren’t gonna stop being friends with them. They were there first, it would be unfair.
“Why do you hate him so much?”
The grin on his face became more prominent. Slowly, teasingly, his hand smoothed down your hair before he pressed against the back of your neck. “Because he wants what’s mine.”
He pressed down hard, pushing you down to your knees. Your heart sped up when you realize what’s happening.
You blinked up at him, unsure of what he wanted you to do. You were also too scared. Your hands shook a little at the thought of getting caught. That would be a nightmare.
He tilted his head at you. “You don’t expect me to do everything, do you?”
You looked to both sides of you worryingly. “What if someone comes, and we get in trouble, or worse- suspended. Or even worse! Expelled! Oh my god, I’d be in so much trouble, my parents would kill me and I would be a disgrace and they’d disown me and they’d take away everything I have, everything I love, oh my god I’m gonna have a heart attack,”
Bakugou rolled his eyes at your nervous rambling, unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock. He slammed your head back on the shelf which shut you up immediately, his cock in his hand, he tapped your lips with it.
“Are you done? Needa’ use your mouth for something more productive right now.”
You closed your eyes, letting out jagged breaths, and nod submissively. He chuckled then forced his cock between your lips, putting his entire length down your throat.
Your squeals are muffled when he thrusts into your mouth. He explores your tongue and feels the inside of your cheeks. It made him crave you even more.
“Looks at me baby- aah, shit. Look at me when your mouth is full.” He exhaled.
You did as he said without question. One thing about Bakugou, his moans were gorgeous. They never failed to make you feel special.
It always sent shivers down your spine whenever his breaths let you know how much of a good girl you were being. Your nipples became hard, almost being visible through your thick sweater. The pain at the back of your head became a distant feeling.
The only thing you focused on was him. How good he was making you feel, and how you were doing the same to him.
His breath hitched as his thrusts into your throat became more powerful. His balls slapped against your chin and saliva spilled from the corners of your lips.
“Wider,” he panted. “Open wider… deeper…”
You tried your best to widen your lips more to his liking. But you were as wide as you could go, his cock was already forcing your mouth wide open. It was hard to breathe through your mouth and your jaw started to cramp.
He leaned over you, his arms and forehead resting on the bookshelf. You could tell he was focused, his expression was serious.
You felt yourself growing more wet when you began to gag on his cock. The lewd noises were a little loud, the thought of being caught scared you but you didn’t care about that now.
He moaned more, cursing at you under his breath. It was so faint, you couldn’t hear what he was saying. But you were willing to bet it was so hot.
Hs shoved his hand to the back of your head and began forcing you down on his cock. Your eyes shot close when you started choking on him even more.
His grip on your hair tightened and you could tell he was close. You tried to be good for him and just take it. But the roughness was too much to handle.
You whined and whimpered, but he ignored you. The only thing on his mind was chasing his high. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth and you moaned.
That set him off. His body jerked ever so slightly as he released down your throat. His gasps were soft and mixed with shits and fucks.
When he pulled out of you, a long string of his thick cum mixed in with your saliva connected between his cock and your mouth. He lifted it off his end and placed it in your mouth.
You prepared your throat to swallow before he caught it and flung his hand across your cheek, your head snapping to the side. You whimper and bring your hand to your slapped cheek.
“Don’t swallow until I tell you to.” He hissed.
You nodded and stood slowly, resting your head on his chest. He cleaned himself up a bit, putting his cock back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans.
He led you back to your friends and left without a word. You sat down quietly, grabbing your phone from your bag and rested your head on the table.
13 missed calls and 22 unanswered texts.
“What happened back there? Are you alright?” Mina asked. You looked up at her. She was worried, like usual. You only smile and nod.
“Are you sure? You look exhausted,” Kirishima added. You nod again, your tongue playing with the cum still in your mouth.
You felt your eyes ready to close so you can get some rest until you felt your phone buzz. You lifted it from your lap and unlocked it.
It was from Bakugou.
“Send me a pic of my seed in you. Then I’ll allow you to swallow.”
You cringed. What if your friends saw? What would they think of you if they knew what just happened?
But you couldn’t ignore him. You’d end up in bigger trouble later if you did.
You opened the camera app and turned the camera around. Kirishima was right, you did look exhausted. Your eyes were barely able to stay open, it looked like you had been crying.
You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. You snapped a photo of your expression and examined it before sending.
It was clear as day, the cum in your mouth. It was awfully abundant and salty. Having it in your mouth for longer than three minutes would surely make your breath stink like crazy.
You sent the picture to him and awaited a response. It wasn’t long before you got a reply.
“Disgusting whore.”
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