#it has a partition to split it into separate rooms

[thequeeninyellowlace]

Would you like to see what is likely the oldest existing house on Earth?

Here it is:

It’s called the Knap of Howar, and I am in love with it. It’s in Orkney, Scotland, and it’s over 5,000 years old. It was preserved by the soil around it. The name “Knap of Howar” is absolutely fantastic, and it has a fireplace, shelves, and a bed, and may have had a front porch, because humans are always basically humans no matter how much time may pass.

[nerdynikki94]

There are too many reasons for why Hannibal is such a captivating series: the artistic visuals, sound design, phenomenal acting, dialogue, character development, beautifully executed split season arcs, etc.

I could literally spend like 3 hours just praising the storytelling of the cinematography and sound design in Hannibal S3b (don't even get me started on the painfully purposeful dialogue - word choice is so thorough and deliberate, especially regarding Will). This arc is truly masterful in the way it conveys intention, intimacy, and barriers, not just in relation to Hannibal with Will, but all the characters.

In S3E8, we are instantly introduced to the way Hannibal exists within his memory palace. We first see him interact with Alana, sitting with a glass of wine in his old office. It's important to note that she's first shown there, before we transition to reality, the transparent partition separating the space between them. He brings people into that room in his memory palace to retain that old sense of composure and control.

Also, notice the way we see Hannibal interact with Frederick. There is no place in his memory palace for Chilton. In this entire arc, these two are always shown in cuts of untouched reality. Hannibal doesn't respect or hold any esteem for him. He talks to Chilton without investment, and thus, he is not worthy of the honor of Hannibal's confidence. His control in this instance is cold and completely removed.

That shifts entirely in the last scene of that episode when Will goes to see him. The music changes, a haunting few notes, incredibly reminiscent to some opening notes blended in Love Crime. We see him strut straight into Hannibal's foyer, the Norman Chapel in Palermo; Will knows where to find Hannibal; it's just as much his memory palace, as it is Hannibal's.

Will is the only one to do this throughout S3b. All other characters shown in Hannibal's memory palace, are simply there at the start of the scene, they never walk into it. Hannibal has to be the one to extend the invitation, but not with Will. For him, Hannibal has an open door policy.

In S3E9, we continue their meeting. Hannibal & Will's angles are so specific in this scene, but also, throughout this setting. When they talk between the partition, you are often seeing the other's reflection in each one shot. They are equals, both of them caged and free in their own personal ways. Their presences are fused together, fractured reflections of one another. The distance isn't absolute, because they are still so close, as if no time has passed.

Then, later, we see Alana going through Hannibal's cell. It's intentional that the camera shows her milling about in a way where we can see the holes in the glass between them, at first. We are meant to be aware of the wall ever between them, until Alana steps closer. In threatening him, showing Hannibal the true power of her position, she gets to safely encroach on his space. Suddenly, the glass wall is gone. And then, when she steps away, the angle changes so we can yet again be reminded that the wall is still there, it always was, but the threat was real. It's the closest thing we see to Hannibal being rattled by his captivity.

Then, we see Jack visit Hannibal. Hannibal's reflection is seen in most of Jack's one shots, but his face is always obscured. He's a dark looming shadow, always lingering over Jack's shoulder like a threat. (Hannibal will manifest as a reflection in this way for Alana and Frederick as well throughout this arc; just like her and Will say, as if everybody feels like he walks out with them.)

Jack's reflection is shown only once in Hannibal's shots during this meeting. When Hannibal is telling Jack that Bella once said his face was all scars, if you knew how to look, we can just barely make out a reflection of half of Jack's face beside Hannibal. I find this brief moment to be really interesting in re-watches, once you ruminate on the notion that is introduced later in S3E12.

In this story, Hannibal is the Devil, and Jack is God. So, we see God's gnarled half-reflection beside the smug devil, a reminder that in more than one way, Jack too, is responsible for Hannibal's actions. More than once in this series, we see God's lapse of judgment allow the devil to get away. Hannibal is Jack's greatest regret, proof of just how blind he can be.

Briefly, jumping ahead on that point. (The God, Devil, the Lamb & the Great Red Dragon speech is also so important as well. A scene where we see Jack's reflection in Hannibal's shots, a forced distance, expression removed, saying with certainty that he'll be standing at the end. Then, Hannibal approaches, asking him if his conscience is clear, and his reflection lands on Jack, but doesn't meld. Jack's face is not overtaken, instead it overtakes what we see, as Jack says his conscience is as clear as Hannibal's. God has made his own choices. He may be blinded, but he's never truly influenced.) AAAGGGHH! Visual Poetry!

Even in S3E10, when Dolarhyde calls Hannibal. We see Dolarhyde physically enter his old office. There's a sense of counterfeit there, Dolarhyde's desperation to be seen by Hannibal. Yet, Hannibal allows him into that room of his memory palace, not as an equal, but as a patient.

Later in that episode, we get one of the best shots in the season, which occurs when we see Hannibal & Will talking about TGRD and the question of his sanity, Will takes a step forward and this is where we see his reflection meld into Hannibal. The contrast is there, but so is the connection. Just like Jack says to Chiyoh in S3E7: Hannibal & Will are identically different. They have changed each other.

I could keep going. This show is fucking ridiculous. It's so incredibly well-made, thoughtful and fucking efficient. Yes, there's loads of flowery language and overcomplicated arguments, but that all really falls into Bryan's stylistic choices: Pretentious Art Film. But in the same vein, that is how it's able to convey so much, even when doing so little; it's efficient because, even in silence, there is so much storytelling being done.

[wellpresseddaisy]

Hubert Prewett Makes an Entrance

Part 4

"Minerva, could you step up to my office, please?" Dumbledore's patronus interrupted her in the middle of organizing the 6th year NEWT syllabus.

She sighed and set down her work, smoothing both dress and hair before leaving her office. He'd be on her last nerve before she knew it if she didn't go. She threw a pinch of Floo powder into her fire and stepped through after saying "Headmaster's office."

Minerva stepped out again to Albus in deep thought. His office glittered in the late afternoon sun, the lowering rays catching all the whirling trinkets.

"Thank you, Minerva. I know you're busy today and I appreciate you coming up. I've had an idea and I'd appreciate your opinion. Also, I owe you in particular an apology." He came around the desk as he spoke and pulled a comfortable chair up for her. 

Minerva sank into the seat. Apologize? Albus Dumbledore? Generally he felt an airy 'terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, my dear' to suffice. She watched carefully as he sat in the other chair and not behind his desk.

"I've been remiss in my duties as Headmaster, my dear, and that work has fallen on your shoulders for years. I am so very sorry to have so burdened you. It was brought home to me this very morning when all I could think was that Harry Potter needed to handle the attention for the well-being of others. An eleven-year-old boy. He ought only to worry about his marks and if he was caught in some mischief."

"Thank you, Albus." She answered stiffly. She knew he hadn't liked hiding Harry as Hugh.

"And that made me realize how very absent I've been for so long. I won't neglect the school in such a shocking way again. We keep telling students about unity and seeing past the surface of the Houses, but we also keep students so partitioned. I know we can't make changes for all the students immediately, not with term starting on Monday, but perhaps we could try an experiment with the first years?" 

She hadn't seen him so interested in running Hogwarts in, well, nearly two decades. He leaned forward, looking younger than he had in some time.

"I suppose it depends entirely on the experiment."

"I thought we might split them into cohorts across the Houses. Instead of having Gryffindor and Slytherin or Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, all four houses would be in each class. I believe we could keep the current class slots, but mix the students more." His eyes sparkled. "We can't teach them that they're stronger united if we never unite them."

"Would they keep the same cohort all seven years?" Minerva could see the benefit of such a plan. She and Severus had long hoped for classes with some buffer between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"At least through OWLs, I think. NEWT coursework becomes so specialized and the class sizes shrink. Shall we sort out cohorts tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. If we keep the class slots as we've worked them out, I don't see a problem with it." 

"And the idea of separating students too much brings me to another plan, although I don't believe we'll be able to implement it immediately."

He felt like the Albus she'd known years ago when she first began teaching - engaged with and interested in student welfare. Before Voldemort, before all of it, he'd been such a passionate educator.

"What have you been dreaming up now?" She let herself smile, finally. This. This excitement, the change, sharing ideas…she'd become a teacher for this.

"We've had any number of complaints over the years from children with friends in different houses that there's nowhere for them to go. I thought we could use some of the empty rooms on the first floor. Hogwarts has already created two very large rooms for us. One could be for quiet but not silent group study and one could be for socialization. We'll have to start the hiring process for proctors now -- my dear, whatever is the matter?"

"Albus, the budget! It's all very well to have the space, but can we hire?" 

"I have spent this week past combing the budget. We are quite solvent, I assure you. We can hire four for the new project and four assistants for my house Heads, beside. You all work much too hard."

"And the Board?" However generous Albus wished to be, the clutchfisted Board liked to flex their power.

"I think we shall use the discretionary budget for this. That I control and we've barely touched it in a decade. Gringotts has managed it capitally and we have a healthy fund to draw on. I will speak to the Board about hiring a new History professor, though. It's high time Binns' classroom became a relic of our past. I have hope that charting the abysmal History OWLs and NEWTs scores over the past twenty years will be the impetus we need for change. That and that even the most genteel and properly educated students have trouble describing the Great Workings of history. Perhaps if I point out that the only student conversant in actual magical history seems to be Percival Weasley? Might get them thinking, in any case."

Minerva stared, blinking.

"Are you quite well, my dear?" He smiled gently.

"Who are you and what have you done with the Albus of the last twenty years?" She finally managed.

"I put him back in the cupboard where he ought to have stayed. I've been sadly wrongheaded, Minerva. I only hope that the staff can forgive an old man too bogged down in the ghosts of the past. I'll answer the call, if there is one in the future, but for now we must focus on our students." He patted her hand. "Do you think my ideas will work?"

"I…yes, Albus. I think they'll do very well. Once we can sort out space for students to meet across the Houses, I'm sure we'll receive fewer complaints." She rose and headed for the fireplace. An hour or two of quiet would set her right again, she was sure of it.

"Except, of course, for Mr. Ponsonby's campaign to introduce packaged breakfast cereal to our tables." His eyes twinkled. 

"Well, I'm sure that I'm happy you find it entertaining!" She bit back and exited his office to his merry laughter.

[vmsplusblog]

How to modernize your home with glass partitions?

Years ago, homes were forced to utilize partitions which looked like pin cushions. Members of the home would have their room, enclosed dark colour glass partition walls for home office that allow them to pin their respective reminders and notices. Even though it was a practical solution, it just cut off the rest of the family members or others working in your home office. To add to that, it turns that particular area into a messy one packed with paper.

Now there are glass partitions for home, and the possibility to add a clean and modern design to any specific office, these come with a lot of benefits for any office design. It does not matter in case you have a big office space and wish to break up your departments or you have a space for a small office and wish to make a meeting or board room. These glass partition walls for home are planned to make a style, which will make an impression on any customer, not to mention, provide you a list of advantages to improve productivity within the office.

The very first benefit you would find when selecting glass partition walls for home office is that it makes the area bigger.

Glass is a wonderful material that permits flow and makes any space feel somewhat bigger than it is, so it is a top option in bathrooms all over the world. Now you can utilize it in your open area office to make separate areas without splitting them off, from the remaining office space.

One more benefit that you will find when you add different types of glass partition walls to your office is that the area can benefit from a lot of natural light. The downfall, when natural light is not available in office environments is that the staff become ill, start suffering from headaches and lack efficiency as they depend on overhead lights the whole time they are working. With the partition glass, you permit good flow of the natural light, which doesn’t just improve the office space, but brings about a decline in the number of staff falling ill. Another upside is, that it also improves the overall productivity.

Separating team members or departments isolates them, thus bringing a decrease in team spirit, which is required to improve productivity and bring about better customer service. Doing work in their own planned area, separated by a wall of glass partition, allows team members to get pleasure from the privacy they still have contact with their team members.

Always there has been a discussion on the disadvantages and advantages of interior glass partition walls for home. A few managers trust the greatest way to get maximum work out of a team is to separate them, thus there are no interruptions whilst some others trust an interactive and happy environment boosts productivity and motivation. In most cases, the 2nd scenario is found to be more beneficial. The other concern for some managers is whether using wall partitions with door around your workplace will give any financial advantages. We are here to make you understand the monetary advantages of using glass partitions and how they can assist your business success.

The clearest monetary reward of having glass walls and dry lining all through your office is it decreases your dependency on utilizing all your office lighting throughout the day. In case more amount of natural light is made available throughout your workplace; electricity needs to be used less, by switching off the lights in the morning hours of work. This will in turn reduce your electric bill.

[floodklavsen75]

The Ultimate Guide to Glass Repair: How to Extend the Lifespan of Your Windows

The Art of Glazing: How Glass Can Enhance Your Interior Decoration The Art of Glazing: Exactly How Glass Can Boost Your Inside Decoration At The Art of Glazing, we believe that interior design ought to surpass just furnishings and paint shades. It should be a reflection of your personality and design, while additionally developing a warm and welcoming atmosphere. This is where the art of glazing is available in. Glass elements, when thoughtfully integrated right into your interior design, can change any kind of area, adding sophistication and elegance. Glass is a functional material that has been used for centuries in architectural style, and its classic appeal remains to astound home owners and designers alike. From streamlined and modern to timeless and typical, glass elements can enhance any indoor design. We have understood the art of glazing, and our group of experts prepares to help you transform your area. 1. Glass Wall Surfaces: Bringing Openness and Light. One of the methods which glass can improve your interior design is with the use of glass walls. Unlike traditional walls, glass wall surfaces bring transparency and permit natural light to flood your area, producing an open and airy feeling. Whether you want to divide a big space or produce an office within your home, glass walls can be a sensational and functional remedy. Our team at The Art of Glazing focuses on the setup of glass wall surfaces, making sure a seamless and stylish surface. 2. Glass Doors: Adding Style and Performance. Glass doors are an additional great method to integrate glass into your interior decoration. Whether you pick frameless glass doors for a streamlined and modern look or standard French doors for a touch of sophistication, glass doors can quickly boost the design of any area. Along with their aesthetic charm, glass doors likewise have useful benefits. They enable all-natural light to move between areas, creating a feeling of visibility and connection while preserving privacy. At The Art of Glazing, we provide a wide range of glass doors, including moving, folding, and pivot doors, satisfying your details demands and style choices. With our know-how, we can direct you with the selection process, ensuring that you find the perfect glass door that enhances your indoor décor. 3. Glass Partitions: Dividing Rooms snappy. Often, you need to develop separate locations within an open floor plan without sacrificing the circulation and openness of the area. Glass dividings are the ideal remedy for this. https://glaziers-bellingham.co.uk use a means to split locations while still enabling light to permeate via, creating a feeling of continuity and connection. Glass dividings can be customized to fit your particular area demands, and they come in numerous finishes and designs to complement your overall style visual. Our team at The Art of Polishing comprehends the significance of locating the appropriate glass dividing for your area. We can function closely with you to understand your vision and develop a customized style that not only boosts your interior decoration however additionally fits effortlessly right into your existing format. 4. Glass Balustrades: Adding Security and Style. If you have a staircase or terrace in your home, glass balustrades can be a spectacular addition. They not only offer vital precaution yet additionally add a touch of elegance and elegance. Glass balustrades permit unhampered sights, developing a sense of space and visibility, making them an outstanding choice for little or narrow areas. Additionally, glass balustrades can be customized to fit any design style, whether you prefer a minimal and contemporary look or an extra elaborate and standard style. At The Art of Glazing, we understand the significance of safety and security in your home. Our group of professionals can create and mount glass balustrades that comply with all security guidelines while still developing a gorgeous and visually striking attribute in your indoor décor.

5. Glass Shelving: Showing Your Treasures. Glass shelving is an often neglected component when it comes to interior decoration. However, when utilized tactically, it can be a game-changer. Glass racks develop an illusion of floating items, permitting you to display your preferred items in a distinct and visually appealing method. Whether you intend to present your collection of books, ceramics, or art work, glass shelving can be a lovely addition to any kind of space. Our team at The Art of Glazing can produce customized glass shelves that match your existing layout and mirror your personal style, transforming common shelves into sensational prime focus.

Why Select The Art of Glazing? At The Art of Glazing, our interest depends on producing beautiful and useful spaces via using glass components. We have been at the center of the glazing industry for many years, and our team of specialists brings extensive understanding and experience to every task. We value our customers' contentment most of all else, and we function carefully with you to understand your vision and bring it to life. By picking The Art of Glazing, you can expect:.

1. Quality Craftsmanship: We satisfaction ourselves on delivering impeccable workmanship. Our group utilizes the current techniques and finest quality products to make certain that every job is completed to the greatest standard. 2. Range of Options: From glass wall surfaces to shelving, we offer a variety of glass elements that can be customized to suit your certain layout style and functional needs. 3. Specialist Support: We understand that embarking on an interior design task can be overwhelming. Our group of professionals is right here to direct you with the entire procedure, from idea development to installation, making certain a worry-free and pleasurable experience. 4. Attention to Detail: We believe that it's the little things that make a large difference. We pay attention to the tiniest details to ensure that completion result surpasses your assumptions. Transform Your Room with The Art of Glazing. If you prepare to boost your interior decor with the art of glazing, we invite you to contact us at The Art of Glazing. Our team is enthusiastic concerning producing lovely and useful rooms, and we are here to help you transform your home. Call us today to schedule an appointment and allow us bring the appeal of glass right into your interior design.

[copenstick]

Find Out a Perfect Place to Get Sash Window Glazing Bars and Glazing Window Design

Sash Window Glazing Bars are the horizontal and vertical bars that split a window into smaller glass panes. They are sometimes referred to as muntins or Georgian bars. Traditional sash windows are characterized by these bars, which are frequently connected to architectural motifs such as Victorian and Georgian. Glazing bars have a function beyond aesthetics; in the past, they were employed since producing big glass panes was difficult, making smaller panes more widely accessible. To simulate separated panes, simulated glazing bars are added to the glass's surface.

The bars resemble the classic design of sash windows even though they do not physically divide the glass into distinct panes. Because glazing bars are available in a variety of styles and materials, customization is possible. They can be as basic as straight bars or as complex as curves and ornamental embellishments. In order to maintain the historic character of classic sash windows with genuine glazing bars, maintenance and repairs may call for specific knowledge.

Modern windows with simulated glazing bars are typically simpler to maintain. Larger and more durable panes became available as glass production techniques advanced. Single panes of glass are used in the majority of contemporary sash windows, and glazing bars are frequently only ornamental also still provide some insulating benefits, but also give modern spaces a hint of vintage grandeur and charm.

Some Special Key Aspects of Sash Window Glazing Bars

Ø  Historical Importance

Multiple tiny pane sash windows were prevalent in Victorian and Georgian architecture, among other historical periods. The limits of glass production technologies at the time led to the usage of smaller panes.

Ø  Appeal to the Eyes

A large part of the Sash Window Glazing Bars visual appeal comes from their glazing bars. They give the window a timeless, classic appearance that complements the building's architectural design. The bars may be arranged in a variety of ways to produce different visual effects and patterns.

Ø  Partitioning Panes

Glazing bars are mostly used to split windows into smaller panes. Bar arrangements can take many forms, including six-over-six, eight-over-eight, and other layouts, each with its own distinct aesthetic appeal.

Ø  Customary Artisanry

Traditional workmanship is typically linked to sash window glazing bars. With these bars, artisans would meticulously plan and build windows, demonstrating their proficiency in producing aesthetically pleasing and structurally sound windows.

Ø  Considering Energy Efficiency

With advancements in window manufacturing technology, thinner panes and glazing bars are no longer as necessary for structural stability in modern windows. For aesthetic purposes, certain window designs could, however, include fake glazing bars. Energy-efficient modern windows can mimic the look of old sash windows by using simulated bars.

Beyond Panes: Unlocking the Beauty and Innovation of Glazing Design

The planning, arranging, and decorating of windows with an emphasis on integrating different kinds of glazing or glass is referred to as Glazing Window Design. When referring to windows, glazing is the process of using transparent materials, such as glass, to let natural light into a room while maintaining views of the outside world. A variety of forms, materials, and features are used in glazing window design in order to meet certain functional, aesthetic, and energy-saving objectives.  Choosing the right kind of glass for the windows is an important part of glazing window design.

This can include energy-efficient solutions like low-emissivity glass as well as tinted, frosted, and clear glass. The design takes into account the kind and arrangement of the windows, including casement, double-hung, sliding, and custom-shaped windows. Every style has an impact on the window's overall appearance and functioning. Features include double or triple glazing, gas-filled panes, and thermal gaps in the frame are all part of energy-efficient glazing window design.

These components contribute to increased energy efficiency, less heat transfer, and improved insulation in buildings. Glazing Window Design goal is to optimize the amount of natural light entering a space to create a pleasant and welcoming atmosphere. To maximize daylighting, windows are arranged and sized with care. The way the windows link the inside and outdoor environments is considered in the design, as is the intended view from each one. The interior and outdoors may be seamlessly connected with the help of large, well-placed windows.

[commercialofficepartitions]

Detailed Report On Glass Partitions

Glass wall ideas are becoming more popular among architects and designers. Interior glass walls and doors are examples of glass features which have made their way in to the construction sector. Glass inside walls are an innovative and eye-catching design feature for a workplace. They are utilised to modernise the classic varieties of workplace walls and barriers. Interior glass walls allow individuals within the office to observe what is going on outside and increase transparency. Decorating your home's rooms has too much to do with space - the size and design of the area. You can just create your personal partition with a glass wall barrier in open-area floor layouts with few to no apparent separation points. Glass wall partitions are room dividers that may be used in homes or workplaces to divide one area from another. They're not just beautiful objects, however they can be used to split up one area from another, creating the illusion of different rooms or workstations.

There are numerous alternatives available. Select how big is the partition, the style and design, the doors, and the sort of glass. Other choices include freestanding or mounted and installed hanging glass wall dividers. While glass walls give you a clear split of space, you could require quick access from area to another. Design your wall with the most functional door for the space. The type of glass utilized on your wall can be both attractive and personal. It could increase seclusion between rooms or give the room a brighter, more open vibe. Using various varieties of glass, you can create the ideal ambiance for the room based on your own demands and aesthetic. Framing is another aspect of glass wall dividers that enables you a number of possibilities. Frameless glass wall separators can offer a pleasing touch to bathroom areas, frame panelled walls, or separate workplaces in a office. If you select your glass wall separators must certanly be framed, you can pick from many different types, styles, and patterns.

Glass transparency fosters honesty in the workplace. It stops dishonest personnel from seeking bribes from clients and fleeing the country. Managers can certainly supervise personnel because they don't need to travel to each office. Clients also help organisations create trust. Interior glass walls and doors are a fantastic approach showing and communicate the appropriate message. Interior glass walls promote organisational communication. It is frightening to knock on a sealed door since the individual doing so does not have any idea what's inside. The average person at the workplace can be in a dreadful mood or might not be present. With a glass door, the average person can observe the individual inside work and even know very well what you may anticipate from that person. These are a number of the features of utilising bespoke glass partitions to produce and separate your office or home wall. If you utilize these ideas, you will be able to help make the appropriate option while renovating your rooms.

[mdmcustom-remodeling]

CAR GARAGE CONVERSION INTO 1 BEDROOM: LET US TELL YOU HOW!

Are you seeking a way out to have an extra bedroom without spending on a full-scale addition? You can look over our ADU projects for car garage conversion into 1 bedroom! If we assume that you have unused space for a two-car garage, it will add nearly 600 square feet, which is sufficient to create a cozy bedroom. And the good news is that you don’t have to break your bank in this addition!

How Much Does a Car Garage Conversion Into 1 Bedroom Cost?

Converting your garage into a bedroom requires less investment because the foundation is already there. Using the existing structure, including walls, roof, and floor, you have to spend half the costs of a new room addition. Of course, you will need proper planning for a 2 garage conversion into 1 bedroom, and we are here to help you throughout the process, from design to execution.

Now, the overall costs of the garage conversion into one bedroom depend on the features you want to add here. Still, if we count the average, you may have to spend up to more or less $50,000 to transform a two-car garage. And if you want to include a bathroom plan there in your bedroom, add a little more, around $17,000 to $26,000. 

What Does the Two-car Garage Conversion Into Bedroom Involve?

Different garage conversion projects we have handled so far. From that experience, we can say that it can take nearly two months. After all, the project includes so much, like:

Floor height raised for insulation

Ceiling and wall insulation

Heating and cooling installation, like a mini-split system (ductless)

Open floor plan by knocking down the partition between the garage and home

Garage door replacement into insulated stud walls

Electrical upgrades 

Window and door additions

In fact, if you want to make your garage look like it was always a bedroom, we recommend eliminating the garage door openings and other evidence. Also, change the rooftop designs into something trendy, like dormer windows, while adding more windows than a bedroom has.

How to Set Up the Garage Space Into a Cozy Bedroom

While converting the car garage into your private space, a bedroom you have longed for days, pay attention to the setup before the project kicks off. For example:

Layered tray ceiling

Separate space for relaxation

Soundproof walls

Fibre optic lighting

You don't need to be concerned, we will handle every aspect of converting a garage to  a master bedroom. You must now check to make sure that the work being done on your home is done correctly and assist us in doing the job well.

[studioasa]

How to maximise the possibilities of your office space

How to maximise the possibilities of your office space

To make the most of your workplace space, consider the following crucial advice:

Make your layout adaptable

The need for flexible work arrangements has greatly grown, particularly after spending two years in a pandemic. While the popularity of remote work soared, many businesses have shifted to hybrid workplaces. This necessitates a flexible workplace design that caters to the requirements of your staff.

In 2022, employees will no longer enjoy spending all day at their workstations, with little opportunity for pleasure. It is usually advised to avoid inflexible layouts if you want your staff to deliver their best effort. To make your office layout more adaptable, employ free-standing office partitions, moveable screens, and open floor layouts. Have ample room for your staff to roam about in as they spend hours working on tasks they don't particularly enjoy!

Use furniture that is mobile and versatile

If you want to improve your workplace space, you need pay close attention to the furnishings. It's always a good idea to replace traditional fixed furniture with mobile furniture. Install mobile, flexible ergonomic seats that may be moved around to meet the needs of your staff.

Moving furniture allows for additional room in your office. It is portable, enabling you to quickly modify the appearance and function of a particular area of your business.

Installing versatile furniture will give your working area more breathing room. Install workstations with storage and power. To make meetings more adaptable and simple to plan, provide multipurpose seats and workstations in the common spaces.

Utilize lighting wisely

Since it has a direct impact on employees' productivity, lighting is crucial when designing business interiors. Having a well-lit office is usually advisable to ensure that each employee has sufficient light to work comfortably. People tend to become unproductively sluggish, demotivated, and slack off under dim or dismal illumination.

Utilize LED downlighting to brighten the office and do so wisely. For instance, utilising glass to reflect artificial light allows you to illuminate a bigger area of your office.

Making wise use of natural light is just as crucial as using artificial lighting. Never give your employees the impression that they are isolated within a corporate prison with no access to the outside world. Allowing natural light to enter your office through the windows will increase staff productivity.

Optimise the common areas

Your staff members deserve welcoming and attractive common spaces if they are going to spend many hours each day in the workplace. To maximise the potential of your office space and increase staff productivity, optimise the common spaces.

Common misconception: Only high-end businesses with enormous office spaces may have common areas. This is undoubtedly untrue. No of the size of your workplace, you can always designate a space where employees may unwind, hold informal meetings, eat, and refuel before returning to work.

Construct privacy pods

Employees are prone to become sidetracked when they need to work with the utmost attention and commitment, especially if your workplace has an open floor plan. Building privacy pods for your staff to work in an enclosed space, away from all the noise and disruption of the workplace, is advised in these situations.

In addition to being used for business, privacy pods can serve other functions. You can have a specific pod for things like reading, breastfeeding, meditation, and making phone calls. A privacy pod, as the name implies, enables your staff to have some alone time away from the bustle of the workplace. It enables individuals to unwind mentally without being bothered by outside stimulation.

Make specialised areas

You may always split your workplace space into separate zones according to distinct functions to make the most of it. These areas enable your workers' unique work or peer collaboration outside of their own workstations and cabins.

According to the many projects and clientele they serve, businesses frequently want to create separate zones. It is possible for all employees involved in a project to collaborate with their supervisors and team members in a certain zone. This fosters a culture of collaboration and raises the general effectiveness of your teams.

In addition to creating zones for certain tasks, you can also designate areas for unwinding, meditating, eating, holding client meetings, or just allowing an employee to work by themselves without interruptions, similar to a privacy pod.

These were some of the most crucial pointers for utilising your workplace space to its full potential. Commercial interior designs significantly influence a company's reputation and staff productivity. Remember that every stakeholder has a stake in your company as you devote adequate effort to planning your workspace.

Your workplace should represent all your company stands for and be an extension of your brand identity. Commercial interiors have a significant part in creating the identity of your brand, from establishing the initial impression of your company to giving it a beautiful appearance. 

About Us

Studio AsA - Architects and interior designers in pune is an Architecture and Interior design studio created by design enthusiasts always curious about new design innovations. An association of young minds looking forward to bringing the transformation beyond dreams and imagination. 

Address - 1st, 2nd and 3rd floor, Ashtagandha Bungalow Phase 3B, near The Rustle Nest Restaurant, Baner, Pune, Maharashtra 411045

Call Us - +91-93095 90430

[kitchenequipmentsblr-blog]

Top 5 useful Applications of ACP Sheet Cladding in every industry

If you are interested in architecture or interior design, you may be familiar with ACP sheet designs. These typical construction materials, often known as ACP design panels or ACP sheets, are utilized in many structures, including signboards. Two flat, thin aluminium panels are joined to a non-aluminium core to form an ACP Sheet Cladding. Without even realizing it, you probably counter ACPs multiple times every day.

In this guide, you will be reading about the top uses for aluminium composite panels that can assist you in selecting an ACP Sheet Cladding that is appropriate for your location.

Features of ACP Sheet                                                                  

ACP sheet is available in approximately forty distinct colours, according to aluminium panel features. Additionally, you may have those coloured and designed to your specifications. ACPs can be used in collaboration with sheet architects and designers to create an appearance using the hues of different materials.

ACPs are extremely durable and long-lasting in comparison to other building materials, yet are lightweight. Furthermore, as the majority of ACP sheet products are constructed of more than 80% recycled aluminium, they are environmentally benign and help to promote sustainable development.

Applications of ACP Sheet Cladding

False ceilings

Among the things that may make a plain room special and give it a lovely appearance is a false ceiling. The use of an aluminium composite as a false ceiling has several advantages, including ease of cleaning, weather and moisture resistance, and many more. Given that false ceilings are typically used to hide wiring and LED lights, it is possible to utilize fire-resistant ACP sheets as a fake ceiling with safety.

Furniture

As it offers a sleek, smooth, and robust surface, aluminium composite panels are frequently used in indoor furniture, including cabinets, bookshelves, closets, worktops, and other furniture items. As it is moisture and water-resistant, ACP sheets are frequently utilized in modular kitchens as well.

Due to its elegant appearance when combined with finishes made of marble, wood, and other ACP sheets, this sheet is utilized for furniture in living rooms, bedrooms, kitchens, and commercial spaces.

Partitions

Most individuals are currently working from home because of Corona. Due to the restricted space, everyone in this situation struggles to find a workspace. The Partitioning panel is the greatest fix for this issue. By splitting the same space into two areas, it can be utilized as two separate rooms.

The ACP sheet is suitable for the partition panel. since it has the potential to offer a lengthy lifespan. The aluminium composite panel gives the divider great resilience while being lightweight and long-lasting.

In addition to being affordable, this panel is becoming more and more popular for use as wall partitions in homes and businesses today. The divider panels also come in a variety of colours.

Signage

The brand name of the company, businesses, and any form of hoardings are shown via signage. It may also be used to represent the house's name plan, thus it needs to be appealing, strong, and straightforward like an ACP sheet.

Aluminium composite panels are an excellent option for signs since they offer multiple thickness variations, are available in a variety of finishes, sizes, colours, and patterns, and are also quite affordable.

Cladding and facade

For façades and any type of outside architecture, flexible aluminium composite panels are the best option. These sheets' lifespan, toughness, and adaptability make them particularly desirable for cladding.

In all weather, the ACP sheet shields the building. Additionally, the thickness and colour of this film are maintained by UV rays from the sun. Due to its resistance to weather and moisture, even this sheet may last in a hazy environment.

Conclusion

In the final note, these are a few significant applications of the ACP sheet cladding. Now that you are conscious of all the applications, you should also use them to enhance your architectural designs.

[doorbloggr]

18/1/22 - Anagenesis in Ceratopsians, Briefly

Styracosaurus, anthon500 (deviantart)

Speciation, Cladogenesis and Anagenesis

Speciation is a term used by scientists to describe the process by which a population of organisms give rise to a new species. The idea of a species is wholly man-made, and its true definition varies, but for the purpose of this article:

A species is the largest grouping of individuals which can produce fertile offspring from a mating pair. A species can also be defined as having a specific karyotype (a unique arrangement of DNA chromosomes), or in the case where we don't have genetic data, by having enough unique changes to be significantly different from others in their genetic family.

Cladogenesis in Bears, Source

When we discuss speciation, usually it is Cladogenesis that comes to mind. Cladogenesis occurs when a portion of the population splits off and develops adaptations separately. Think for example, Brown Bears and Polar Bears, which we suspect originated from the same ancestor species.

Anagenesis is a different process, where the separation of species is not a difference in space and/or compatibility, but a difference in time. Think for example Homo sapiens and it's ancestors. I could probably trace an uninterrupted line of ancestors back 10s of millions of years ago, but if you dug up that ancestor's bones, palaeontologists wouldn't call it Homo sapiens.

Anagenesis in Hominids, Source

A population separated by nothing but time alone would still be referred to as different species, because they would have different physical traits and genetic make-up.

Both cladogenesis and anagenesis occurs in populations over time. One group may develop without any splintering for millions of years, and then a group splits off later to become a separate species.

Cladogenesis and Anagenesis, Source

Anagenesis in Ceratopsians

So with that explanation out of the way, let's get to the part that's actually interesting: dinosaurs. Like all organisms, speciation in dinosaurs would've occurred by populations splitting up and specialising, or dying out. But recently, the idea of speciation by anagenesis has been proposed in a certain group of dinosaurs.

Ceratopsians are a group mostly identifiable by their large imposing neck frills and face horns. New species are proposed when they differ enough in the shape and length of their eyebrow horns and their nose horns, the height and width of their neck frills, and the arrangements of parietal horns on and around their frill. There's lots of room for variety in ceratopsian face arrangements.

Styracosaurus, Victor Sales (Deviantart)

Styracosaurus is a fairly mainstream dinosaur, but what's probably not as well known are its close relatives. Ceratopsians such as Stellasaurus and Einiosaurus have been found in fossil beds nearby Styracosaurus. And although there may have been some niche partitioning or sexual selection allowing these dinosaurs to coexist in the same place, new research suggests they were the same group separated by time.

Top: Stellasaurus, HodariNundu (deviantart)

Bottom: Einiosaurus, Calisius (deviantart)

Sexual pressures can drive animals to rapidly develop extreme physical traits for no other reason other than to look attractive. Modern dinosaur species (birds) can have a variety of physically exaggerated traits that serve no purpose beyond attracting mates. In Cockatoos, it's erect feather head crests. In Peacocks, it's massive colourful tail plumes. So perhaps in Ceratopsians, it was face and frill ornamentation.

When Stellasaurus was first described as a species separate from Styracosaurus, some Palaeontologists decided that it represented a transitional species. The relatively straight nasal horn of Styracosaurus had developed into a thicker, more curved structure later in the lineage. The neck frill became sturdier and more robust, the frill horns curving in strange directions. The supposed endpoint in the lineage is Pachyrhinosaurus, who's nasal horn is now a solid plate of bone, and the neck frill is decorated with a variety of horns pointing in every which-way. It may be a less pointy dinosaur, but it was very heavily decorated. And sex sells.

Top: Styracosaurus Anagenesis, Christopher DiPiazza

Bottom: Pachyrhinosaurus, Raph Lomotan (deviantart)

The Centrosaurine Styracosaurus lineage is not the only subject of Ceratopsian Anagenesis. The Chasmosaurine line has also been suspected of transitional forms, with the recent discovery of Navajoceratops. But in that lineage, speciation pushed towards longer brow horns and taller neck frills in the younger species.

New discoveries Navajoceratops and Terminocavus, Ville Sinkkonen

It is important to note at the time of writing, these theories are not accepted by all of the Palaeontological community. And that also my explanation is not as detailed or accurate as someone with all the right background knowledge could give. So if you are intrigued as to how this theory could be better explained, here's some further reading:

Chris DiPiazza (2020) Stellasaurus: Beast of the Week

John Wilson et al (2020) A new, transitional centrosaurine ceratopsid from the Upper Cretaceous Two Medicine Formation of Montana and the evolution of the ' Styracosaurus-line' dinosaurs

Stephen Belletini (2020) Was "Rubeosaurus" Styracosaurus After All? YDAW Synapisode #6 (Youtube)

Enrico de Lazaro (2020) Two New Species from New Mexico Help Fill Gap in Evolution of Horned Dinosaurs

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E2; Chapter Two, The Mall Rats - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Baffled with Mike's sudden behavior, El seeks out Y/n and Max for advice while Will struggles to get through to Mike and Lucas. Billy takes his co-worker on a field trip, and Steve and Dustin enlist a helpful ally in their top-secret mission.

⚠️: s3 mike wheeler, y/n and mike angst. more google translate. the reader eating ice cream [if you're lactose intolerant, it's dairy-free xp], mama steve loving and worrying about his children, his little henderson ducklings especially 🥰 *heavy sigh* oh yeah, kidnapping and more possible allegory to r*pe :( as usual, a marker will be placed but it plays till the end of the chapter so you only need one

🔑: y/f/o = your favorite [ice cream] order

📝: idk if the tip seems small or not but either way keep in mind this was the eighties so inflation hadn't gotten quite as bad yet. As far as the Mike stuff, I know he wasn't being possessive, he was just worried she would get caught and taken away or worse but also he handled it badly, and then everything else in this chapter just kinda rode that angsty bad decision train outta here lmao.

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"если действовать осторожно... неделя длинная. серебряный--"

Robin pauses her pacing momentarily to point at the tape Dustin has in his hands.

"Wait, that last part, just one more time,"

The sounds of the wires hissing as they rewind fill Robin's thoughtful silence.

"если действовать осторожно... неделя--"

"Okay, that word!" She says, and Dustin quickly presses pause. "Um... it's pronounced... 'dly-nna-ya.'"

"'Dly-nna-ya'" Dustin repeats, nodding excitedly.

"Which is spelled—"

"-D... D, D, D..." Dustin mutters, springing up from his seat, scurrying towards the whiteboard as Robin grabs the book. "The— The chair! The chair-looking thingy!" He says, pointing to the Russian 'д'.

"Yeah, okay," Robin mutters excitedly, hurriedly scribbling into their notes.

The glass partition swings open with a loud clang alerting Steve at the counter.

"We've got our first sentence,"

"Oh, seriously?" He asks, turning around with two orders in his hands.

"Yeah," Robin nods. She drops her voice into a lower pitch and imitates a Russian accent. "The veek is longh,"

Steve's face falls. "Well, that's thrilling,"

"I know, but," she shrugs. "Progress."

With that, she retreats into the window and slides the door close leaving Steve to return to his ice cream slinging duties.

"Okay, here you go. You got uh, a vanilla with sprinkles and extra whipped cream and one y/f/o,"

Steve hands off the rest of the orders to El and Y/n who gladly take them. Max stood next to them, digging into the order she had already been handed. She only comes up to say 'thanks' in near sync with her friends.

"Wait a second," he says, a thoughtful look falling over his face as he frowns at El. "Are even allowed to be here?"

The girls freeze, once again pausing to share a knowing look with growing ice cream-mustached smiles and giggle. In a hurry, the three of them scurry for the door. Y/n nearly makes it before coming to a skidding halt that leaves her bouncing on one foot as she catches her balance. She runs back to the counter with a mischievous smile and a dollar in hand.

Steve watches confused as she tucks the dollar away in the tip jar, and sends him what he finds to be a childish wink.

"Keep this quiet?" She asks, and he almost laughs. But he could tell she was all too serious. "Also this is your tip! Thanks, Steve,"

Steve watches utterly baffled as she turns on her heel and makes a break for the girls waiting just outside and around the corner.

"Okay?" He says, beginning to trail off. "Wasn't gonna tell anyone anyway?"

She's nearly out the door when he realizes what her being here means. He hopes it's not too late to call after her.

"Hey, wait a sec!"

Thankfully, she hears him and turns back around. He motions her forward and while confused, she ultimately complies.

"Hey, uh, does Dustin know you're here?"

Y/n tilts her head as she thinks about it then shrugs.

"I'm not sure, why?" She asks, taking a lick of her ice cream.

Steve hooks a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the window but he pauses when he realizes it's better she doesn't know what he's doing here. He quickly plays it off and plants both hands on the counter to lean against it.

"I don't, uh— It's just that he came by earlier and he seemed pretty down about last night,"

Y/n's shoulders slumped immediately, her eyes widening a little.

"He did?" She winced, nibbling nervously on her lip as she looked guiltily at her ice cream. And in doing so, any budding feeling of anger and protectiveness vanishes in Steve. "It's just, he wasn't there when I left and I assumed he went with the guys to Mike's."

With the same, guilty look in her eyes, Y/n glanced over her shoulder at her waiting friends and Steve instantly regretted bringing it up. He sighs, shaking his head.

"Look, it's—"

"If he comes back, will you tell him I'm sorry?" She laughed a little, very sheepishly. "That we can guilt Mom off the TV again so we can a have a monster movie night like we used to, or something?"

In that moment Steve decides not to be honest with her and tell her he's probably still too upset for that, he just doesn't have to heart to. Nor does Steve have the guts to say it wouldn't matter anyway, that he's right in the back room decoding a top-secret Russian communication. So instead, he forces his lips into a firm line that was supposed to be a smile and nods.

"Sure thing, kid,"

She perks a little. "Thanks, Steve. I'll see ya later,"

"Alright, take care," he straightens from the counter, watching as she retreats back out of the shop. He sighs again, almost hating how soft and protective he's become, and calls after her, nodding discretely in El's direction. It all comes out in the form of annoyance, though, naturally. "And don't be stupid, alright?"

Y/n smiles in response and returns to her friends. Together, the three of them disappear into the crowd.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

One of many sets of double doors swing open as Y/n, El, and Max step back out into the sunlight.

Despite their every desires to keep their special day at the mall going, the three girls knew the bus back into town was leaving shortly. Y/n takes another quick and frantic lick of her fastly melting ice cream as Max turns to El and gestures to her strawberry ice cream cone.

"Wanna trade?"

El responds with a giggle and eagerly trades off her vanilla cone for strawberry.

"No... fair," Y/n grumbles, nearly attacking her ice cream as it turns to a puddle before her eyes. She spares only a single second glare enviously at their still freshly frozen cones while she has spent between licks.

"You're not," lick. "making your," lick. "ice cr━ shit!" two licks. "melt."

The girls giggle again, wholeheartedly amused by the sight before them.

"Shut up," another lick.

"That's ridiculous," came a nearby, all too familiar whine. "Why can't I just—"

Max's face falls into a glower, pulling Y/n and El into a stop next to her. "Oh, you gotta be shitting me."

Just across the concrete entrance, fumbling to separate their bikes from the bike stands were Mike, Lucas, and Will.

Forgetting her melting ice cream momentarily, Y/n takes a moment to sigh at the ground when she realizes whatever is about to pass, will be far from good.

"—haven't got that much," Lucas says.

"Okay, what if we split it?"

"Split it with what? Does that even make sense?"

Two of the three boys continue to bicker, completely unaware of the three angry figures making their way towards them. More specifically, two angry figures and one slightly disgusted one who tosses out her nearly finished ice cream cone and the napkin she used to wipe her hands off with in the trash cans they all pass.

"Isn't this a nice surprise?" Max asks, plastering on a smirk as the three boys and their bikes come to a halt before them.

Mike's face pales when he realizes Max had caught him, and even more so when he realizes El is with her. His bike crashes to the ground, forgotten as he gapes at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Shopping." She answers matter-of-factly, her icy stare never once wavering.

"This is her new style," Max says, eyeing him carefully. "What do you think?"

"What's wrong with you?" He spits, gesturing to El. "You know she's not allowed to be here."

"What is she, your little pet?" Max fires back.

"Yeah. Am I your pet?" El asks.

"What? No!"

"Mike, she needed this," Y/n says. "Besides, you lied to her! What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here either."

Mike finally turns his wild gaze to Y/n, utterly baffled at the stance she was taking.

"Are you kidding me?" He gawks, ignoring her eye roll. "You of all people should know about keeping her a secret,"

Y/n hotly takes a threatening step forward. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning you would know, you're good at hiding her,"

Everyone inched closer, apart from El who was seething at Mike. Y/n, on the other hand, scoffs loudly, throwing her arms up in frustration.

"You said you were over that!"

"Yeah, well, guess I'm not,"

She looked around quickly, her voice falling into a whispered hiss. "What, so I should be locked up all day, too?"

"Maybe!" Mike said, instantly feeling guilty.

"Mike!" Will snaps, stepping forward another few inches. And so did El, her shoulder subconsciously shielding Y/n. Shielding her from, Mike, or Mike from her, she wasn't sure.

But she knew she was livid. And hurt.

Mike sighs, putting his face into his hands and running them tiredly over his face.

"I'm sorry, that was over the line," he sighs, sounding embarrassed.

"-You're damn right it was," Y/n snapped.

"But that doesn't change the fact that she really can't be here," he corrects himself, looking El in the eye carefully. "You can't be here. It's not safe,"

"I can take care of myself," El says.

"I mean," Mike sighs again, frustrated as he trips over his own words. "you and a lot of other people could be in danger if anybody starts asking questions. I just care about you, alright? And I don't want anything to happen to you, not again,"

El shakes her head, all visible anger melting away leaving only sadness in its wake.

"Then why do you treat me like garbage?"

"What?"

"You said Nana was sick,"

The panic returns to his eyes, and he and Lucas desperately try to cover their tracks.

From over their shoulder, Y/n meets eyes with an exasperated Will, and the couple shares a look and tired shake of the head.

"She is. She is sick!"

"Yeah, sick— she's sick," Lucas nods. "She's super sick. And that's why we're here, actually."

Y/n silently meets Will's eye again and makes out the subtle firm line he presses his lips into and the small shake of his head 'no'.

Oblivious to Will, the two continue.

"Yeah, w-we're shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana,"

"For Nana."

"Also," Mike sighs, giving El an earnest look. "we're here to get a gift for you. It's just, we couldn't find anything that suited you and I only have, like, $3.50, so it's hard."

"-super hard." Lucas sighs, giving an honest, apologetic look to all three of them. "It's— It's expensive,"

"Speaking of," came Will's, softened voice. "Here ya go. Sorry it's not real,"

He takes a step forward and sheepishly offers the small goodie bag to Y/n. Everyone watches confused and almost a little intrigued as Y/n takes it curiously. Quickly, she dives her gaze and hand into the baggie and smiles as she pulls out the small y/f/f candy ring.

"Oh, a ring pop?" She flashes Will a beaming smile as she rips open the package and slips it on her finger. "Thanks, Will,"

He nods happily, completely relieved she was this happy to get one.

Y/n's smile drops instantly when she remembers what they're interrupting and she quiets, clearing her throat a little.

"Sorry," she mumbled, sending an especially sorry look to El as her hand graces her shoulders in a gentle apology.

El sends her a weak smile, eyes falling back down. Sadly, she looks to her ice cream and then deeply into Mike's eyes as the day's events all come crashing down on her. And it's with great disappointment she realizes what has hurt her, and what hasn't.

She shakes her head softly, the disappointment evident on her face now more than ever.

"You lie," she says finally, all the more saddened to see Mike squirm under her gaze, only confirming her words. El shakes her head again. "Why do you lie?"

She waits and waits and when Mike can't give an answer, the screech of the bus's tires in the distance tells her a decision must be made. And it's with a seething glare, El makes up her mind.

Everyone watches carefully in silence as she takes three tantalizing steps until she's staring up at Mike. He's frozen, as is everyone else as he fears her next words. And he has every reason to.

"I dump your ass."

Y/n's eyes find Will's once again, this time, regret clouding them when she realizes. Tonight was meant to be spent at his house, dinner with him, Jonathan, and Joyce at least but it seems the day had different plans in mind. She stood rooted to the spot, her lips parted in shock as she processed what had just happened.

She detected sadness in Will's eyes, as she was used she had in her own but reality came crashing down, breaking her from her spell.

"I'm sorry," she sputters, more so to Will than Mike and Lucas. "I didn't think she would," she breathes.

"What?" Mike's widened eyes land on her, flickering between her and El's retreating figure. "Did you tell her to do this?"

"Of course not!" She said, eyes darting between him and Lucas sympathetically. "But it's still their decision. I'm sorry. I am,"

"Y/n! You coming?"

Y/n looked over her shoulder to find El and Max moving up the line, nearly ready to board. From there, El looked between Y/n and Mike, as if she were worried Mike would take it out on Y/n more. Y/n gave her friend a weak, reassuring smile and turned back to the guys.

Will specifically.

"I'm sorry," she said to Will, beginning to back away even though she didn't really want to leave him. "But I think I need to be with them right now. Is it okay if we take a rain check?"

Will smiled, nodding and she felt a fresh wave of guilt. She could have sworn she saw a hint of sadness but if it was ever there, he had buried it for her sake.

In a spur of the moment, she ran forward and planted a kiss on his lips before pulling back. She shot Lucas and Mike a lingering look, not really knowing what to feel for them in the moment.

And then she took off.

The three friends stood baffled, reeling from how much everything had changed so quickly. Their legs kicked into gear and followed the crowds to the bus but the doors had just swung closed. From where they stood at the curb, they could make out three familiar lingering silhouettes from behind the tinted windows, all piling in together.

Max had nabbed the window seat, El seating herself next to her. It was only a matter of moments before Y/n had joined them, plopping herself in the seat directly behind them. She peeked out over the low backs of their seats, wedged right in between them with a breathless look.

For just that moment, the three best friends sat there in stunned silence before breaking into a breathless laugh.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The sun had set behind even the lowest of valleys, bathing the town in a pale glow and unforgiving chill that couldn't be quenched even on the hottest days of summer. Starcourt mall was alive in every way but one; the hum of the neon lights reached every corner, but the mall had long since closed leaving it a beautiful, vibrant wasteland.

The only remaining occupants were tucked away in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, standing before a whiteboard facing the daring truth they had worked so hard to uncover. In perfect sync, they read the words aloud with confusion muddling their brains and exhaustion filling their systems.

"The week is long, the silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west."

Steve, Robin, and Dustin stand before the translation willing something to make sense. But all they were left with when they turned in for the night, closing the grated metal gate that went with closing up shop was utter bafflement.

"I mean, it just..." Steve sighs into the ground, the keys in his hand turning in the lock. "It just can't be right."

"It's right," Robin assures. When Steve returns to his feet the three of them begin their lazy journey to the exit.

"Honestly, I think this is great news," Dustin shrugs.

"How is this great news?" Steve chuckles bitterly. I mean, so much for being American heroes. It's total nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. It's too specific. It has to be a code."

Steve's face screws up into a puzzled pout. "What do you mean, a code?"

"Like a super-secret spy code,"

"That's a total stretch,"

"I don't know, is it?" Robin scoffs.

"You're buying into this?"

"Listen, just for kicks, let's entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What'd you think they were gonna say, 'Fire the warhead at noon'?"

"Exactly," Dustin gestures, his gaze returning up to Steve to see the gears spinning in his head.

"And my translation is correct," Robin assures. "I know that for sure, so... 'The silver cat feeds'. Why would anyone talk like that unless they're trying to mask the true meaning of their message?"

"Exactly!"

"And why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the true meaning of their message was somehow sensitive?"

By now, Dustin was rubbing his triumphant smirk in Steve's face. "Exactly."

"So I guess that confirms your suspicion," Robin says, looking to Dustin who remains triumphant.

"Evil Russians,"

Robin wears a tired smile as she looks back at Steve with a dry chuckle. "I can't believe I'm about to agree with this strange child, but, yeah, totally evil Russians."

"So how do we crack it?" Dustin asks, flashing his charming toothless grin her way.

"Well, I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges."

"A pattern. Right, like maybe 'silver cat' is a meeting place?"

"Or a person."

"Or a weapon,"

"It's probably gonna take a super genius to track it, but..." Robin trails off when she notices she is one dingus short. "Where's Steve?"

The new duo spin on their heels where they spot their missing friend a few yards down. He had a frown screwed onto his face as he stood in front of one of the many kiddie rides, his hands diving into his pockets no doubt searching for coins. Sure enough, the clinking of coins rattling together as he purs them out in his palm confirms their suspicions.

"Hey, Steve," Robin calls, her empty hand swinging limply out in a puzzled gesture. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, it's," Steve doesn't bother answering her question and the only time he picks his eyes up off his hands is to check the mechanical horse for its cost. "a quarter. I need--" he mumbles to himself, looking hopefully to his friends. "Do you have a quarter?"

Despite her confusion, Robin lets out a chuckle, and she and Dustin quickly shuffle over to Steve's side. "Sure you're tall enough for that ride?"

"Quarter!" He yells, jumping forward to catch the coin Robin flipped out for him.

He catches it with a clumsy spin and drops his knees to insert it into the ride. They watch was Steve remains huddled on the ground, a funny look on his face as the ride begins. Robin can't resist poking fun, and does with little strain on her voice to be heard over the music.

"You need help getting up, little Stevie?"

"Shh-shh! Shh!" Steve snaps, gesturing to the galloping horse. More specifically the music it plays. "Would you two just shut up and listen?"

Robin and Dustin are almost shocked at his seriousness, but the smile remains on Dustin's face from Robin's comment. That is until it eventually slips off his face when he realizes why the familiar tune being played before them was so familiar.

"Holy shit," he breathes, locking eyes with a grave-looking Steve. Dustin looks to Robin, helping her to connect the dots as he begins shedding his backpack from his shoulders. "The music,"

He had heard it all day. They all had while translating the tape. The very tune Steve had been complaining so much about.

"The music!" Dustin cries again, dropping to his knees as he desperately fishes his bag for the tape.

How had he not recognized it? Y/n and him used to ride the Indiana Flyer at the fair as soon as they were old enough. And then the caricell, over and over every year until they were old enough to ride the bigger rides. And even then, the tune carried out across the Fun Fair where it could be heard from as far as the top of the Ferris wheel. The two of them would drag their mother every year. It was the sound of his childhood.

Dustin presses play on the tape, and as he gazes up at Robin, silently pleading for the dots to connect the sound of the song on the tape is louder than Russian for the first time all day.

But Robin only shrugs between them.

"I don't understand,"

"It's the exact same song on the recording,"

"Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?"

"The 'Indiana Flyer'? I don't..." Steve shakes his head. The look on his face made clear he wished he was wrong. He looked... unsettled. "I don't think so. This code, it... it didn’t come from Russia."

And they that unease. They could feel it settling into their chests, making their hearts beat a little faster and their stomach twisting up into knots at what he said next.

"It came from here."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The roads are empty, even still. Crickets sing into the night and the steady breeze taking itself through Hawkins back roads are momentarily swept up with the leaves when a lone Chevrolet Camaro pulls into Brimborne. The lot remained abandoned, seemingly, other than the figure stepping out of the car, with sweat on his brow.

The summer sun had set hours ago, taking the searing heat with it. But the humidity that clung to the air felt to be Billy like he was sitting far too close to an open fire. But still, he lumbers to the trunk where the reason for his being here lies.

The latch opens with a loud clunk, and the trunk lid opens slowly. His eyes find the contents immediately, as does the murky light from the trunk bulb onto his face.

She was still unconscious.

A foreign voice in his brain — the one who had brought them both here, the one to have put here — spoke up again without permission. And yet, it didn't exactly speak in words, but feelings. And all that shot to the surface was one thing — one word.

Good.

It was Billy who couldn't stop thinking about it. What he had done. The small part of him that fought.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■]

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

Among the pain, Billy feels tears building up inside him when he realizes what that tug in his gut is ordering him to do. He can also feel it happening again. He can feel himself slipping away, just as he had when he fled for the showers. But this time he fought it.

God, he fought it so hard.

But it wasn't enough.

His nails dug into the flesh of his knees that he had been clutching so tightly to his chest. That and the tears racing down his cheeks now blending with the water were the last things to happen that were truly Billy's doing.

"Billy, are you okay—?"

The last thing Billy sees before he loses control is his hand lunging for Heather's throat. His iron grip locks her in a chokehold and her hands fly to his. Desperately she claws at his hands, her nails raking into his skin but he never flinches. She feels her feet leave the ground, her toes grazing the tile floor as he picks her up and pins her to the stall doors.

Her widened, fearful eyes look deep into his but all she finds as he rips the curtain closed is the lack of human emotion within him. His eyes were hollow, the whites of his eyes running black and they are the last thing she sees before unconsciousness overtakes her.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

She's limp in his arms as he carries her throughout the darkness of Brimborne whose only source of light is moonlight spilling through the dirtied glass window panes hanging high above. He walks with all the time in the world, his eyes dead set on the last place Billy ever wanted to see again. The only sound to be heard within miles was the scuffle of his rubber soles scraping against the dirt and leaves sprinkled across the concrete.

The scratchy thumps of his boots turn to metal echoes as he disappears down the darkened stairwell. From there, inky blackness like the sludge coursing through his veins is all that can be seen. Little moonlight has survived the journey through the grated floor, but there was enough to illuminate Heather's body that he places onto the cement floor.

Soft, discomforted groans break through the duct tape over her mouth as she comes to. She rolls onto her back, confused as to why she feels pain in her head and cement digging into her spine.

But everything she needs to know becomes all too clear almost instantly when she sees Billy's hollowed eyes staring down at her from where he's perched above her. Panic sets in, and as she realizes all too late why she is unable to move her hands or feet. That doesn't stop Heather from trying as she fights against the restraints, eager to use her dried-out voice.

Her breath is knocked loose when Billy throws her back into the ground after she managed to sit up even an inch.

He keeps a small majority of his weight on her shoulders as he leans in close, his breath on her ear.

"Don't be afraid. It'll be over soon."

Tears tickle her temple when they escape her eyes. She prays for many things, but she'll even settle for the small possibility the sweat collecting on her skin is enough to weaken the tape on her mouth. Then maybe, just maybe she can scream for help.

"Just stay very still."

This specific hope fizzles away, drowning in her own confusion when, without moving his head, he looks to her and slowly peels the tape off of her lips.

She's too shocked to do anything. Too afraid. But she wasn't prepared to let that stop her. Heather was going to do something, she had to. She would.

But that all died when Billy suddenly stood up, looking almost disinterested in her as an eery, unnatural sound reverberates throughout the darkness before her. Slowly, her head turns to face the dark abyss when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye.

His face is as hard as stone though his eyes hold a flicker of struggle and pain when it all unfolds. Heather may be the only one in binding, but she is not the only one who is trapped. There is nothing at all Billy can do but watch as the large and bloodied mass of flesh stomps forward from the shadows, ready to feast.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

68 Ways To Donate in Support Of Asian Communities - [link]

FSFAPV Justice: "community family coalition that offers help and justice to families in the Twin Cities and nationwide that have lost loved ones to police violence" - [link]

30 Organizations That Are Boosting African American Educational Achievement - [link]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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[hoodoo12]

Elegy (1/6)

What follows is a story of Miss Argentina and Beetlejuice and how their own personal issues keep them locked in their own private hells. Contains smut and angst. It was done as a rp between @clairjohnson and myself. NSFW. Beetlejuice/Miss Argentina. Beej is a combination of movie and musical; Miss Argentina has contains hcs (such as her name and circumstances). Also contains minor mentions of OC Dante’s Inferno employees.  (Tagging people who have asked in the past. If you’d like to be tagged, hmu. If you’d like to be untagged, hmu.   @turtlepated @thewolfisapartofmysoul @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @janitor-boy @beejiesbitch @angelicspaceprince) Enjoy!

He’d married, been murdered, vanquished the evil that was Juno – he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her again anytime soon – said some weird heartfelt goodbyes to people he just terrorized, and was carried off by his clones in the smallest, most subdued mosh pit style ever, for an exit that was worthy of some kind of award, just for the theatrics of it. 

The second he was through the swirling mists of the doorway that separated the living from the Netherworld, he turned on his own clones and attacked them remorselessly, using claws and teeth to tear them apart, growling like he’d lost his mind and spitting like he was rabid. 

None of the clones attempted to fight back or escape. They were part of him, and he was so fucking angry – it made him angrier that they just took their destruction passively, his destruction, a destruction of self that made his hands drip with gore, his mouth taste like clotted blood, and his clothing, the tuxedo conjured specifically for something positive in his fucking waste of a life, a deeper color. 

He hated this fucking suit. 

He was too exhausted by the end of his rampage to flick it away, however. Stepping over the piles of meat that had been clones, he wiped his hands down his front and winced as they brushed over the new ventilation that goddamn teenager graced him with. He kicked the door to the waiting room hard enough that it bounced off the interior wall of purgatory, startling the assholes sitting around waiting for their stupid numbers to be called.

---

It had been another slow day in the waiting room. Not that Miss Argentina had any way to count “days” – time had little meaning in death – but her job was as uneventful now as it had been several hundred new arrivals ago. Staring down at her clipboard Maria crossed out the name of the last soul she’d sent back to meet their case worker. Juno was surprisingly absent at the moment, but the receptionist wasn’t too concerned. Her boss was a work-alcoholic and honestly, what else did Juno have to do? She’d be back soon. 

In a practiced motion, one she’d done a million times, Maria stood and slid open the dividing screen to the waiting room. 

“Number 5,678 Mr. Hen – “ 

The rest of the name caught in her throat when the door to the left of her was blown open, rattling on hinges that threatened to give. A split second of panic washed over her, an emotion really only needed for the living, before she saw who it was.

Betelgeuse. 

“Mr. Hendrix,” she finished, moving her gaze from the fuming poltergeist to the sorry looking dead man standing up from his seat. “Your caseworker is waiting for you – please step through those doors.” 

Maria placed her clipboard back on the desk then leaned out the window a little further, giving the older, bloodied man a deeper once over. “Back so soon, Mr. Betelgeuse? Should I pull you a number?”

"Fuck this place and fuck the numbers!" he spit, literally spit, making the ghost sitting nearest in his line of fire wipe his face as he hoisted himself up – some kind of heart attack took him, no doubt, from the lack of obvious trauma and the effort he took to get out of the molded plastic chair – and hurried as fast as he could out of range. 

He could take that chair and beat down every wall in this place. He could tear apart every single soul in this forsaken pit. He could bypass the eons of fucking waiting and just march right down the hall to the Lost Souls' Room –

– scary thing was, that option held some real fucking appeal at the moment. 

Beetlejuice glared at each and every dead person cowering in place. Fucking losers. Just like the fucking Maitlands, but worse, because they followed the goddamn directions in the fucking Handbook and were now stuck here. 

But what did that say about him? the voice in the crate in the back of his mind whispered. You tried, and you still ended up right.here.with.them. 

Beetlejuice grabbed the side of his head, mindless of the residual tackiness on his hand, and gave his hair a yank. Sometimes that dislodged the voice enough to make it shut up. 

His gaze fell on the beauty queen behind the partition. He couldn't tell if she was politely waiting for his tantrum to subside, or if she was being indifferently patient, having seen it all before.

Maria wondered, absently, where all the blood had come from. She noticed the gaping hole in his chest and assumed it might all be his – but it was always hard to tell with Betelgeuse. His brand of “bio-exorcising” wasn’t the cleanest. However, based on his outfit, she doubted his day job was what sent him back here. The fool had tried to get married again. 

Fixing him with a cool, pleasant smile, Maria yanked a number from the ticket dispenser and held it up. “I’ll just pull one for you, then. You know the rules – no number, no getting to see Juno.” 

The beauty queen leaned further out of the window and rested her chin in the palm of her hand – her clipboard and list forgotten for the moment. Red tuxedo – a classic for him. How many times had she seen him in it? She could remember at least four, and she guessed he’d worn it twice as many times before she’d crossed over. Betelgeuse never told her how old he was, but after working with him for over three decades, it was clear he had a few hundred years under his belt. 

When was he going to stop pulling this stunt? It never worked. Always ended up with him down in the waiting room – back here with her. Maria bristled, both angry and jealous that he got to leave this hell and go gallivanting top side as he pleased. Her smile tightened and she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You never invite me to your weddings,” Maria said casually, lifting the hand from her chin to examine the ruby manicure. “Any good plans for your honeymoon?” 

She flicked her gaze up to catch his reaction.

The bitterness and pure rage inside him managed to ratchet up another notch with the receptionist's detached apathy to his situation as she offered the ticket out to him.

Anyone else, and he'd have taken that hand off at the wrist; he could feel his teeth lengthen in anticipation of it. As it were, he snatched the paper away with enough force to tear it. He crumpled it in his fist and shoved it into a pocket without looking at it, casting his glance around the room again at all the lesser assholes who were pointedly trying not to look at him and become the focus of his ire. 

Maria's words, her barbed little query spoken in her light accent, just poured salt into the gaping hole in his chest. 

"Fuck you," he roared. His voice cracked.

Maria was used to seeing Betelgeuse angry. She was also used to seeing him happy – manically so. The man had a way of taking emotions to the extreme. She was not, however, used to hearing the crack in his voice. The next biting remark died on her tongue and she peered up from her nails, her brow furrowing. 

“Oh, don’t look so upset.” She tutted, but there was less sarcasm behind it. “You have all the time in the world to try again, don’t you? It’s not like you’re stuck here (like she was). Not for long, anyway.” 

Had this time been different from his other attempts? The pain in his expression suggested so. If he kept this up she may just bring him around back to avoid disturbing the waiting ghosts. Maria didn’t like bending the rules, but for the good of her job she’d bend them. That’s what she told herself at least. For the job.

try again 

not like you're stuck here 

Her words meant to comfort stung, jamming themselves like smaller spears into his chest. She was partially right. It wasn't like he was stuck here, so long as he could convince some dumb sucker to fulfill the terms of the contract. Finding the right dumb sucker was what took the time and energy. 

That led to the whole "try again" debacle. What was the point? He'd never succeed; despite the seemingly impressive power he had in the upper world, it was useless. He was useless, like everything was smoke and mirrors and the one being fooled was him. 

He realized he had his fists clenched so hard he was shaking. The ghosts surrounding him in the mismatched furniture, patiently waiting their turn, still did their damnedest to pretend they heard and saw nothing. 

"No one is like me!" he'd shrieked in the Maitlands' faces. 

The stupid deads sitting here proved it. He had half a mind to grab the nearest one and rip him apart like he'd treated his clones, just to continue to give his rage an outlet, but on top of everything else he didn't want to deal with the consequences of that. Maria was still watching him, as if she expected him to do something of the sort, like she was steeling herself to have to intervene and de-escalate him, even though he knew it wasn't anywhere near part of her job.

The shaking of his fists drew her gaze down – would he really be so brash as to tear through the souls waiting? Not that he could actually kill anyone, but it would make them have to get a new place in line . . . and the paperwork involved would be a headache. 

Maria lifted her Miss Argentina sash over her head and draped it on the back of her chair. Quietly, but quickly, she moved around her desk and out the side door that led to the waiting room. Like approaching a wild animal you didn’t want to startle, Maria crept forward. Delicately, she placed her fingers on the side of his arm to get his attention, keeping her back straight and her expression calm. 

“How about you come wait in the back, Mr. Betelgeuse.” 

Her voice was smooth. She had started adding in the “Mr.” when he’d gone rogue and stopped working for Juno. The days of familiarity, of her calling him “Beej”, were long gone. Maria still kept a certain level of fondness for the poltergeist, though she’d never admit it aloud.

The roots of his hair were probably the color of this fucking suit. 

When Maria physically approached and laid a manicured hand on his arm, he almost spun on her. When the pressure on his arm increased, aided by her nails digging in so hard he could feel them through the layers of fabric, he forced himself to relent. 

"Fine," he agreed bitterly.

She’d felt him tense at her touch, and Maria briefly considered she’d made a grave mistake approaching him, until his muscles relaxed – slightly – under her fingers. Thank goodness. 

Keeping her hand on his arm the receptionist guided him to the office door. She peered out to catch the relief on the newly dead faces before shutting it behind her. 

“Take a seat.” She gestured to the chair next to her desk and sat back down on her own. She wanted to stay disinterested, wanted to keep things professional, but she couldn’t.

“So.” Maria pulled some papers together and tapped them on her desk until they were even. “Is most of that blood yours? I haven’t seen you looking so . . . out of sorts in quite some time.”

 The beauty queen looked at him from the corner of her eye, pretending to keep most of her attention on the work in front of her.

He sat where indicated, in the hard straight back chair beside her desk. If he wanted, he could look up and see the filing cabinets, the paths in the rug worn through to the subfloor underneath, the endless stacks of paper, and the hallway where the caseworker's offices were. 

He didn't want to. He could walk through the place blindfolded. Nothing changed in the Netherworld; it was all slog and dismay. And they thought he was crazy for wanting back out?! 

A cigarette appeared in his hand. Sticking it between his lips he glanced up at her question and statement. 

"Yeah. The blood's mine. First from that goddamn teenager and second – " He broke off there and used lighting the cigarette as an excuse not to finish and admit he'd torn apart his own clones in a fit of rage. " – never mind. Nothing matters. It's the same shit for eternity."

Maria watched, with pointed interest, as he brought the cigarette up to his mouth. Well, at least the blood was his. Less mess for Juno to clean up later. 

“Thanks.” She drawled sardonically, bringing her own cigarette into existence. “I’d love one.” 

As she took a drag, Maria let his remark sit in silence for a few moments, unsure of how to respond. Most of the dead seemed to be having an on-going crisis – and if Beej had been feeling the same, he’d never let on. 

“You’ve always been one for the dramatics. But never nihilism.” She paused, “ – also, did you just say teenager? You know what – I don’t want to know.” 

She threw her hand up at that, waving the question off. He was a scumbag, to be sure, but the thought of him being that scummy was not an idea she wanted to entertain.

He'd have felt bad about not offering her a smoke if he was in a different state of mind. As it were, it didn't even register until she pointed it out. Even then he couldn't quite bring himself to care. It was easy, however, to fill in the blanks she left out. 

"It was a fuckin' green card thing," he growled. "Most teens – especially gothy ones who think their existence is the worst of anyone, ever – are dumb as shit. Easy to manipulate. Except this one was too damn clever for her own good. She used – " 

It was on the tip of his tongue to admit his naked, desperate desire to be accepted was used effectively against him, but that made sour bile rise in the back of his throat and he had to swallow it down again. 

" – ugly art to impale me," he corrected after only a brief hesitation. He took a deep drag, and was dismayed to see that some smoke drifted out the hole in his chest. That kid must've punctured a lung. He sighed as he pulled at his shirt to try and cover it. 

From the corner of his eye he watched her watch him. He didn't want her pity. He didn't know what he wanted, but he knew he didn't want her pity.

Maria felt herself relax at his growled response – pleased to hear he was still a normal scumbag of the con-man variety. She couldn’t hide the twitch of her lips into a smile when he admitted how he kicked the bucket this time around. She’d seen a lot of dumb ways to die, but ugly art was a first. Chuckling through a drag, she eyed the smoke coming out of his chest, causing her lips to curl even further upward. 

As good as it was to have him talking, the anger radiating off him was still obvious. She could practically feel it on her skin. Whenever he got out of hand Juno was usually around to deal with him – but not this time. She was still surprisingly absent. Fortunately, Maria had worked here long enough to know what her boss’s trump card was. 

“Juno’s been away from the office today.” she started, putting out her cigarette in the glass tray on her desk. “And you look like you’re in the need of a distraction after . . . your little accident.” 

The receptionist spun her chair to face him, one slender bare leg crossed over the other, and raised a brow at the bloodied ghost. 

“How does a drink or two at Dante’s sound? On Juno’s tab, of course.” 

She smiled, scarlet lips parting to show off her straight white smile. In many ways the two were opposites. Beej was unapologetically himself, moss and all, while Miss Argentina went to great lengths to appear perfect. Even though she had let some of that anxiety go in death, bad habits were hard to break. 

“I’ll join you – if you don’t mind. I could use some time out of the office.”

In an effort to appear disinterested in the state of both his clothing and the new hole he was going to have to figure out how to close, Beetlejuice kept his eyes on the paperwork she'd straightened. A kid's profile, from the looks of it. One perk about working as Juno's assistant way back when was helping the kids when they came through –

He glanced up sharply when Maria mentioned Dante's. Actually suggesting it, and accompanying him to it. He would've thought that the beauty queen would pretend that place never existed, although he knew she must have been both scouted and offered a job there. 

"On Juno's tab? A drink or five sounds great." 

Some time that old hag was going to show up again, slathered in Sandworm spit and gastric juices, and he'd much rather not be found here if possible. He stood up abruptly, making the wooden chair squeal against the floor. 

"Fine. I'll let you take me out."

“Only drinks, Mr. Betelgeuse. I’m not paying for any other services.” 

Miss Argentina hadn’t had a chance to be out in quite some time. With an eternity stretching out in front of you, there was little rush to do much of anything other than your assigned job. Peering down at her burgundy gown, she also realized she hadn’t changed her outfit in years – wearing the same dress to two different parties used to be a mortifying thought when she was alive. 

How things change. The beauty queen stood, and with a few moments of concentration, changed into a red cocktail dress. Her French curled hair now in tight waves around her shoulders. It felt nice. A little like being alive, even. Even if it was just to go out and watch this man get drunk off his ass. But she understood his desire to live again – didn’t all ghosts wish they could be top side? He was certainly the most tenacious about getting there. 

“All right, ready when you are,” she said while smoothing down her new outfit. She turned from the older man and started towards the office exit, throwing a ‘are you coming?’ glance over her shoulder at him.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her hands smoothing down the fabric of her choice of dress. With his cigarette still caught between two fingers, he ran his thumb over his lower lip, thinking about the differences between the dead and the breathers changing clothing – the breathers had to take it off and put it back on, versus simply willing a new outfit into existence. 

Of course the dead could be titillatingly mundane, if they chose. It was too bad this was the never-closed office, and there was a waiting room full of ghosts on the other side of the glass partition –  

At her invitation and with a sigh, Beetlejuice stepped off the road that daydream was headed. He'd lost the chance with her a long time ago. 

He flicked his still lit cigarette into the ether and decided if she was going to be dolled up, it wouldn't be right for him to accompany her in what he was wearing. Between one step towards the door and the next, his blood-soaked tux became his favorite striped suit. He left the hole in his torso under his shirt. 

"Lead the way, muñeca." tbc . . .

[messwriting]

agonizing delight. 

this is settled inside Poison and Pleasure universe; inspired by this ask (thanks nonnie <3)

warnings: toxic relationship; smut, fingering in a car; lowkey exhibitionism; mentions of ownership along prostitution lines; lowkey fem-dom? writer being a tease. 

Osamu’s eyes on you feel like burning coils, sharp darkness surrounded by cracked fire. It rolls off him in waves even as he stays quietly leaning against the wall in the hotel room, dressed in comfortable sweats and a dark t-shirt, black hair sleek back after a shower.

It does wonders for you that his eyes rack over your body even then, as you’re clad in nothing but lace, stockings and heels, your party gown ready by the mirror, a sparkling but somehow discreet Elle Saab of-the-shoulder with v-neckline and a charming front slit you plan on using later.

“Yer crazy.” He tells you with a even tone, bulging arms crossed over toned, broad chest. His posture is a good imitation of a laid back one, but you can easily pinpoint the stiffness in his shoulders, the tenseness in his legs and the strain on his neck to avoid looking at your form in underwear. “I’ve never agreed to anythin’ like this.”

“So?” Your smile curves on one side, perfectly traced red lips challenging as you look at over your shoulder, a perfectly arched eyebrow and even better looking face daring him to test you. In front of you, laid over the bed still inside the plastic protection is a expensive suit, if the Armani on it’s cover is anything to go by.  “Your point being?”

You chuckle, amused, as his lips turn sour and his hands close into fists; his distaste always breaks through the collected exterior he likes to portray in front of you.

“I’m not your little doll for you to dress me as ya want.” His tone doesn’t go up, instead it turns deeper and what the angered answer does to your insides is a proof of how many devilish things he has groaned to you using that same voice.

You pick the suit from the bed with a careful curled finger, sharp manicured nail bright red tonight; then you walk over him with nothing but wicked intentions travelling from your eyes to your hips, nude Jimmy Choos sandals on your feet tonight.

You stop in front of him, your neck bending to pierce his black eyes with your dark ones. There’s a urge settling in your gut at how he looks down at you, restless and vibrating with aggression, that makes your eyes slide carefully to his lips and quickly climb back to his stare. You lick your lips to make a point.

“First off, that’s exactly what you are: mine to do as I want.”

It never ceases to delight you as that makes Osamu darken, sneer almost making it way to his pretty stoic face as a shadow crosses his expression. Fuck. You can only imagine how good he’d fuck you now, maybe even bend you over his knee for a little spanking before burying his cock in your cunt. It’s a pity you have other plans for tonight. “And secondly, this is just a precaution. You’ll be accompanying me to this event and I’m sure you don’t have a suit-”

“I have a fucking’ suit.” Osamu spits your way and you feel your blood rushing thick in your veins, your chest growing heavy as your lips spread in a smirk.

You give a pointed look at his clothes. “Not one good enough to accompany me with.”

“Fuck ya.”

“Maybe later.” You dismiss him with a wave of your hand as you hang the suit off his thick arm. “Now go change so I can see if it needs tailoring. I do think I got a nice hang of your sizes, but who knows, I can be wrong.”

The way you say is teasingly, as if you doubt that’d be the case and you shoo him from the room as you walk over to your own gown, a discreet but sparkly, beautiful thing with slit up front. Osamu hates that he enjoys the image his brain produces of you in it.

When he comes out of the bathroom, Osamu is distressed about the fact the suit is a perfect fit, if only a bit too snug on his arms and shoulders. He supposes it’s still a incredible job done when no one took his measurements. His hair is slicked back and he’s refusing to add the rich cuffs that were atop the bathroom sink, but his whole brain stills to a halt as he lays eyes on you.

It’s ridiculous, infuriating, and disgusting that his blood picks up, rolling thicker at the sight of you in that expensive dress, clearly designed for you to wear. Osamu’s mouth waters with the prospect of picking you up and tearing it all apart, laying marks on your skin that’ll stay for days, destroying that beautiful make-up and hair you have on to leave you in nothing but tears, spit and sweat.

Now he’s hard.

Fuck.

You pointedly look at his now tight slacks but doesn’t comment besides a snarky smile that already says too much for his taste. When you two walk outside the Hotel, there’s already a car waiting and Osamu expends the time pondering just how the fuck he ended up in such a fucking mess. He did his work, he planned, organized, invested- for what? To still end up your lap dog somehow?

Fuck him.

Osamu isn’t ready when the car rolls to a stop in front of the Japan’s Society Annual Charitable Ball and he stays unprepared when the night ends and he’s back at the same place he started, with nothing but a weird sense of dread sparkled by how nice the night went.

He did absolutely nothing besides enjoying good music and splendid food, with free booze and no interaction. At the VIP table you two sat you chatted away with old money and politics and CEOs alike, but besides the occasional greeting, people where perfectly content with letting Osamu sulk in his corner. Incredible.

“So, what did you think?” You ask him with a annoyingly knowing smile, sitting in front of him in the small limousine. Osamu rolls his eyes and snort.

“Why ask if ya’ know?”

“Just thought you could be a good boy and say the truth for once.” You smile his way and Osamu feels the hairs on his nape stand on end like a omen of bad luck. You look way too good and Osamu hates it. Hates even more that he can’t help but fantasize about when you’re disheveled and panting. “You had a good time.”

“Sure,” He drags out as his eyes travel from your perfect face to your sparkly dress, then over the painfully well-placed high slit. “Only because of the food.”

He’s not joking. The food was such a highlight he could barely remember anything else; even the fact two fancy pants tried to tease him over his accent was already shoved to the back of his mind, but maybe it had to do with the swift way you shut their traps with one clearly polished jab. After that Osamu indulged his palate in the Michelin stars menu, almost vibrating in his seat at each new plate.

“Good. I thought you’d enjoy that.” It’s the first time he sees that smile on your lips and it makes your features glow under the streets lights. The back of the limo seems to fade into darkness as your frame becomes his sole focus: your eyes trailing over buildings outside, mouth quirked up and body clad in regal looks.

Osamu feels distressed inside his own head, his chest constricting in a weird way at how you say those words. As if you’d thought about it. As if you stopped, considered, and concluded that he’d like this, so you brought him along. The Miya don’t want to consider the meaning behind this, doesn’t want to ponder over it’s existence and even worse, it’s significance. So he does what he’s used to, and he starts by what he knows best.

Osamu brings his shoes to slide between your own and kicks your legs open, a surprised gasp falling from your lips as your legs separate to show him smooth skin and lace, exactly what he knew that awaited him and even so his heart speeds up at the sight.

He inclines himself on the seat, the short distance perfect to allow one of his hands to fall on the inside of your thighs, gliding up as the other skims over your waist and chest and closed on your neck. Soft, at first, then tighter as his fingers reach your underwear.

Your eyes stay on his, drinking the aggression from him as if it fuels your pleasure, his fingers working expertly on your folds and finding them already moist.

“You sure love this, don’t ya.” Osamu murmurs against your face, close but still far away. “What is it, exactly- the power or the stimulation?”

Your mouth splits in that mischievous grin that makes his body burn brighter, his fingers trailing with measured pressure over your entrance, then over your labia to draw circles on your pretty clit.

“Why are those my only options?” You breathe out with a soft moan as he aims his circles sharply over the sensitive nerve. “Maybe I just like the company.” You say in teasing and Osamu snorts, feels his shoulders growing taut in annoyance and merciless split you open on two thick fingers.

“Let’s see how much ya like the company once I’m done with ya.” Osamu groans but your smile just turn wider, wicker as you hold the challenge in your eyes. Your pussy so wet the noises of his fingers in and out of you - scissoring and pressing, thumb rolling over your clit - become embarrassingly loud.

You throw a look over his shoulder, sharp and hungry. “Driver, roll up the partition, please. We’ll tell you when to stop driving.”

Osamu’s face burns in shame at the realization of just what he’s been doing with an audience, but then your nails are dragging over his scalp and curving on the back of his neck and he can’t think about consequences when his dick throbs like that.

Fuck, maybe that’s his problem to begin with. His brain clearly ceases functioning when his blood is all locked in his fucking dick. Your juices are dripping enough that his third finger slide inside your walls nice and easy and Osamu thinks that’s more than you deserve already.

He sits back at the cushioned seats, smirks at the indignant stare you throw his way at the loss of a approaching high and unbuttons his slack to allow his throbbing, hard cock to spring free. There’s a acid feeling curling in his chest along with desire and Osamu glares at you for making him this fucked up, to make his skin feels on fire and his heart beat on his cock and his brain shut down as his whole being is overwhelmed with his want to end you.

“Better make good use of this.” His hand curls around his thick shaft, pumps lazily at it as if it would falter without the stimulation and not as if the lack of it was torture for him. “You’re paying good money for it, right?”

“Own,” You coo, hands clawing on the seat to help you up and then over him, clumsy legs falling open on each side of his knees as you arch yourself over him. “Is my little whore feeling down?” You hold yourself up on your knees enough to line your pussy over the head of his cock, sharp intake of breath and delighted laugh at how he bites at your breasts in rebellion.

“There, let me sit on my cock then.”

You sink on him, inch by delicious inch, and Osamu growls at the agonizing delight cursing through him. That’s it. He’s the bearer of his own self-destruction and you’re the instrument. He’s doomed.

[xeex-arch]

These modular tiny homes have been grouped together to make a sustainable ski resort!

Sustainably designed architecture projects like this one from Ark Shelter top my list – they are modern, flexible, modular, and help you do your bit for the environment without compromising on your lifestyle. This cluster of prefab cabins is located in a Slovakian forest for Hotel Björnson but can also be stand-alone homes.

The modern retreat is made of 11 cabins and four wellness units that include saunas and relaxation rooms. The shelters are built in one piece, which gives the incredible mobility to reach your dream location. Every cabin rests on stilts to minimize site impact and has been carefully placed in between the trees to give you maximum privacy and maximum views!

This cluster of prefab cabins is located in a Slovakian forest for Hotel Björnson but can also be stand-alone homes. The minimalist shelters have a Scandinavian aesthetic and give you an eco-friendly getaway with minimal environmental impact. 

These units have two independent modules that can function as separate apartments or can be connected to create one shared space that can host up to eight people. There is a sliding wall partition that helps split or combine the cabin into two units and each comes with a living room, bedroom, children’s room, entry hall, and a bathroom.