#Purchase Laminate Flooring

[suryaclick]

How to Choose Laminated Hardwood Flooring That Perfectly Suits Your Lifestyle

Selecting the right laminated hardwood flooring involves more than just style it requires matching the flooring to your unique lifestyle. This detailed guide from Surya Click explores various factors to consider, including durability, ease of maintenance, and suitability for different living environments. Whether you're looking for flooring that can withstand high foot traffic, resist pet damage, or simply complement your home’s decor, this comprehensive article provides expert tips to help you make the best choice for your needs. Ensure your flooring choice enhances both the functionality and aesthetics of your living space.

[luvjunie]

— roller skating

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

contains: romance, slightlyyy (barely) suggestive fluff, miles and reader are in their late teens for realistic purposes

summary: you and miles go on a date to the roller rink and you have a hard time picking up the skill. you ask him to demonstrate for you and he obliges, but you’re so caught up in him that you’re not sure you learned anything at all. wc: 1,254

a/n: if you want to listen to the song mentioned while reading, i suggest you start it when you come across the spotify link i added during the exact scene it’s playing in the story. i highly recommend waiting until prompted so you can experience exactly what reader did cause chileeee. it hits differenttt like i fr made myself fall in love with this one 😭 also if you didn’t know, this is the exact vibe of a black roller rink lol. example 2

🎧: Close To You - Dreezy, T-Pain

“miles, i’m going to fall.” you whined nervously, your body basically glued to the length of your boyfriend’s right arm.

“you won’t ma, i got you.”

he laughed gently at your uneasy stance, and secretly at how terrified you were of participating in what’s been one of his favorite activities since he was a child.

his skates rolled smoothly against the floor as he guided the both of you to the rink; but yours, however, awkwardly clunked around as you settled for taking wary steps, instead of actually gliding like you were supposed to.

how you ended up agreeing to a date at the roller rink with miles was beyond you. you were someone who tripped over your own two feet at least twice a day from simply trying to walk. but with his promise of teaching you and his guarantee of going slow, your nerves had dissipated some— until you’d actually slipped the skates on and got out onto the rink.

“don’t pick your feet up mama. just push them out to the side, one after the other and lean your body forward. you got it.”

you heard his instructions loud and clear, but your brain still struggled to send the correct signals to your unsophisticated body.

you wobbled against the browned, laminated wood, not really a fan of your newfound lack of control when it came to your own legs. right hand hovered out beside you in preparation for a tumble, the fingers of your left were tightly clamped around miles’ bicep as an effort to keep your balance. you had a death grip on him, too focused on not eating shit to wonder if you were hurting him or not. you weren’t, but even if you were, he wouldn’t tell you.

“you’re overthinkin’ it.” he smiled down at you, finding your instinctive need to hold onto him adorable.

“how the hell do you do this without falling flat on your ass?” you asked, already exasperated from your short trek from the bench.

“i’m just like that.” he shrugged suavely, chuckling discreetly when your head turned towards him with a pointed glare. “practice. my moms taught me when i was eight,” he rephrased, and you stumbled suddenly, but he quickly caught you by your arm, two strong hands steadying you before your feet could sweep out from under you.

“okay, no, this isn’t gonna work,” a shaky breath pushed passed your lips and somehow you managed to bring the both of you to a stop over by the wall of the rink, hand instantly finding purchase on the railing. “can you just, i don’t know… demonstrate, first?” you waved your hand around, motioning towards the other people out on the floor to get your point across. “maybe if i watch you do it, it’ll come to me easier.”

he nodded, retreating from you slowly, backwards. he gestured back and forth between the both of you with his finger, your eyes unintentionally falling to it. “eyes on me, aight?” he instructed with a subtle smirk, a sultry trace lingering in his tone.

you couldn’t take them off him even if you tried, so that wouldn’t be a problem.

you were convinced your attraction towards this man couldn’t become any stronger than it already was, until “Close To You” by Dreezy started playing through the speakers and the spot lights on the ceiling dimmed dreamily to a mellowed pink, blue, and orange— blending into a seductive mix of captivating hues that illuminated the rink. you felt yourself swoon, and had half a mind to curse out whoever was on music and lighting for aiding in the palpitations of your heart as your eyes followed your boyfriend closely.

you watched his feet first, as one fanned out in a small half-circle after the other, the movement allowing him to skillfully glide out onto the bustling rink.

how he was able to skate backwards when you had such a hard time grasping the concept of even doing it the normal way, you didn’t know. not to mention sifting through people without bumping into a single one of them. and while the technique of it all seemed simple on paper, what really impressed you was how effortless he made it look.

facing the opposite way of everybody else as he cruised, his hips languidly swayed to the beat of the music, upper body leaning just the slightest with them and you had no choice but to gawk at him— at how handsome he looked, at how good he was at this. at how his lips were absentmindedly tucked into themselves due to his focus, then unfurled to faintly mouth the lyrics.

lord have mercy.

you were mesmerized to say the least, lips parted somewhat and mouth dry. it was like everyone else had disappeared, like the two of you were the only ones in the room; time moving slower than it usually did.

once he started enjoying himself and got into a groove, he’d forgotten you were even watching him, until he caught your marveling eyes transfixed on him from across the rink, chin dropping to his chest for a beat as he simpered to himself. tongue wetting his lips, he shook his head in amusement. he already knew why you were looking at him like that.

with one foot expertly crossing in front of the other periodically, he maneuvered himself through a few stragglers with a brief look over his shoulder, swiftly spinning around a couple that happened to be in his way.

yeah, now he was just showing off.

you had no idea what your face looked like, but as he rounded back over to where you were, he laughed at your awestruck expression and called out to you.

“you droolin’, mami!”

if your jaw wasn’t already dropped from watching him nonchalantly coast around, it definitely was now.

your fingers mindlessly rushed to check, because honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if you were, only for a playful glower to settle onto your face when you realized he was messing with you.

having forgotten you were supposed to try for yourself, your eyes widened in slight panic when he suddenly skated over to you and gently took your hand, pulling you out onto the floor against your will.

“no no no no-!”

“cálmate, mama.” he drawled, his words dragging on as he shot you that same charming smile that’d made you fall in love with him in the first place. “i’ll hold you, no te preocupes (don’t worry). just c’mere,”

you gave him a look of uncertainty, but reluctantly moved your feet just enough to get closer to him anyway. he met you halfway, and snaked his right arm around your waist, expertly turning you so your backside was facing him before he pulled you flush against his body, and your teeth found your bottom lip before you could stop them.

his left arm then came around to your front to meet the other and your lungs drew in a wavered breath at the feeling of his hands resting on the soft of your inner thighs, dangerously close to having your knees buckling. your face bloomed with a sweltering heat, mind entirely corrupted by him and him only. how the intoxicating aroma of his dior sauvage cologne invaded your nostrils; how it felt being against him like this. lashes fluttering and mind turning to putty at the way he was holding you, your warning to him was merely a whispered reminder.

“miles.”

“shhh, i know what i’m doin’.” his response had a double meaning to it as he kept you tightly pressed to him, figure hunched over yours a bit. his breath warmed your skin and his lips brushed the shell of your ear when he spoke, his hands tapping rhythmically against your thighs to keep up with the beat of the song while he helped guide you into the same fluid movement he’d demonstrated prior.

your hands came down to rest overtop his, and you were shocked at the way your body naturally began to sway in sync along with his once you let yourself relax into him; the both of you settling into a comfortable stroll.

“see, ¿que te dije? (see, what’d i tell you?)” he teased, his voice a deep hum against your cheek. “you got it.”

- please don’t plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[yazzdonut]

after months of saving, we purchased everything to paint and install laminate flooring throughout the second floor of the house 😭🙌

[starzzyeyed]

Take My Breath Away (And Make It Last Forever Babe)

This is for @andiebeaword 's 3k celebration contest!! I actually got this finished on time, which impressed even me despite the fact that it's so short. I also never post fics to tumblr so my apologies if there's formatting issues.

The prompt I chose was "Does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy?"

Summary: Spencer finds himself a little bit distracted during a case wondering just how it would feel to be wrapped up in Hotch's strong arms and kissed by his lips.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Aaron Hotchner

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None that I can think of. There's brief allusions to sex but it's not mentioned in any depth.

Word Count: 1.5k

There’s nothing he wants more than the feel of Hotch’s lips on his.

He knows, should his thoughts ever somehow accidentally leak from his brain and become public knowledge, that Morgan would most likely snigger and tell him he’s sure Spencer would like the feel of those lips a few other places as well, but he’s not thinking about that right now.

All he’s capable of focusing on at this moment in time, is what it would feel like for Hotch to kiss him.

And that’s before he even begins to think about Hotch’s arms.

Strong, muscular biceps, thick and prominent veins responsible for carrying the blood that keeps him alive and fit running up and down his forearms, visible in what is a rare occasion of Hotch having chosen to have his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the heat of the Texas summer forcing him to forgo his usual full suit attire.

He knows he’s staring, and he’s been staring for the past four minutes and thirty- seven seconds and yet he can’t seem to bring himself to stop.

Hotch is leant over the table, photos and evidence spread across every square inch of the laminated surface in front of him with a hand planted either side of the journal that they know holds the final puzzle piece, if only they could figure it out.

Spencer’s glad he has the file cabinet to lean against because he’s not sure his legs could hold him up if he didn’t, and he doesn’t want to make his attraction any more obvious than it clearly already is to anyone with a pair of eyes in the same room as him.

“Earth to Reid.”

Spencer jumps, knocking over a stack of folders with his elbow that clatter to the hardwood floor underneath, making him jump again. He hears Morgan laughing in the background as he bends down to pick them up, his cheeks burning as he clears his throat and looks back over to the table, to where Hotch is now watching him with a small, barely there smile.

“Hmm?” he tries, aiming for casual even though he knows he can’t hide the way his pupils are undoubtedly dilated, and that’s without even mentioning his inexplicable clumsiness, which is extreme even by the normal Spencer Reid standards.

“Hotch asked you a question, genius,” Morgan teases, still laughing, and Spencer forces his gaze up from the floor to the very person he’s spent the past six minutes and forty-two seconds staring at. Not just staring at Hotch as a person, in fact; staring with all of his focus on Hotch’s arms.

“What did you say the link is between the victims hair?” Hotch asks, that small smile still playing on his lips, and Spencer feels as though his cheeks are on fire.

“They all purchased the same brand of rinse out box dye,” Spencer begins, finding his voice and rattling off the information he knows that’s actually relevant to the case, rather than the information his brain has spent the last seven minutes and fifty-one seconds hyper-focussing on.

Information like the way he just knows Hotch could pick him up in those strong and muscular arms, perhaps even just on one arm like a bodybuilder lifting a weight. The way he imagines himself far too often being carried bridal style in those arms, with Hotch looking down at him from above with that same small, barely there smile that he had on his face a moment ago. The way he knows without question the safety and security he would feel with those arms wrapped around him, holding him, carrying him; keeping him protected from all the criminals they come up against on a daily basis, all the lowlifes they take off the streets to protect others.

Spencer blinks himself back to the present moment, clearing his throat as he looks up at Hotch again, at Hotch’s face, forcing himself not to let his attention drift back to those well-muscled arms that he so desperately wants to feel wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly against the filing cabinet that’s by now supporting practically all of his weight as he struggles to keep his focus on what’s actually going on right now, as opposed to what’s happening in his imagination.

The problem with looking so directly at Hotch’s face, though, is that now he finds his gaze drifting back to Hotch’s lips again, once again imagining how those lips would feel pressed against his, how it would feel to kiss Hotch, how it would feel for Hotch to kiss him.

The thought alone is making him slightly breathless, and if he carries on like this he’s going to end up with his body outing him to the rest of his team, so he clears his throat again and mutters a quiet, “excuse me,” when it’s clear that no one in the room needs any more information from him for the moment, before he slips out of the office and down the hall.

He makes it two corridors away before he leans back against the wall and lets out a shaky sigh, willing his body to get itself back under control before he’s forced to do something he desperately doesn’t want to and take himself into the men’s bathrooms to take of himself.

He doesn’t get the chance to finish deciding what to do, though, because a moment later there’s the sound of footsteps and Spencer presses himself even further back into the wall behind him, hoping he’s at least somewhat hidden by the cabinets on either side of him. Apparently he’s not hidden enough though, because the footsteps stop right in front of the filing cabinet to his left and someone clears their throat.

Spencer’s in the process of deciding if he can come up with a sufficient lie for why he’s hiding behind a filing cabinet in a local police precinct, or whether he can turn around to this person and ask them why they’re questioning him, a highly trained and admired member of one of the most respected sections of the FBI, when it dawns on him that he knows that voice, even if the person hasn’t technically spoken.

“H-Hotch? What are you doing here?” he asks, stepping out of his hiding place and slowly lifting his gaze from the polished black shoes in front of him to the amused expression on his boss’s face.

Shit.

He doesn’t even need to hear Hotch’s response to know that he’s been caught out, and he’s already forming explanations and excuses and apologies in his mind, ready to spill the moment Hotch starts talking because he’s definitely going to lose his job over this, when the sound of Hotch’s laughter finally reaches his ears.

Great, now he’s laughing at me, Spencer thinks, his cheeks heating up as he begins stammering out apologies.

“I’m so, so sorry, Hotch, I don’t… I don’t know what got into me. Well, no, that’s not technically true, I mean… I do know, obviously, it’s you… no, it’s just, well, you got into my mind, that’s all, and I-”

He doesn’t get any further than that before Hotch leans forwards and shuts him up with a kiss, pressing him back against the wall behind him as his arms, oh, those arms, circle around his waist and keep him locked in position against the wall behind him, as those lips press against his and kiss him, and if Spencer could actually form a coherent thought it would be that he’s definitely died and gone to heaven, because there’s just no way that this is happening to him.

When Hotch finally pulls away, Spencer’s panting for breath and his head his spinning and if he didn’t have a tent in the front of his pants before he definitely does now. But, as he’s looking at Hotch, raking his eyes across the body of his boss as the other man smiles and raises an amused eyebrow at him, he sees a similar tent in the front of Hotch’s suit trousers, and he raises his own eyebrow back in shocked disbelief.

“What?” Hotch asks, chuckling at Spencer disbelieving expression, “did you really think I didn’t notice the way you were staring at me in there?”

Spencer’s still getting his breath back, but he manages to grin at Hotch, leaning forwards and wrapping his arms around the older man’s neck while he breathlessly asks, “does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy?”

Hotch just laughs softly, kissing Spencer softly again before he nods.

“Evidently, yes,” he replies and Spencer grins wider, running a hand through his hair as he tries to come to terms with this development. Fortunately, Hotch is one step ahead of him, because when he looks back down from the ceiling Hotch is holding a hand out towards him that Spencer hesitantly takes.

“Are you free for dinner tomorrow night, assuming we solve this case? Say, 8pm?” he asks and Spencer nods shy smile.

“That sounds perfect,” he replies, walking hand in hand with Hotch back to the conference room.

He’s never been so happy for a case to be solved quickly.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I don't know how to react. This 1890 Brownstone in Chicago, Illinois was painted black and COMPLETELY gutted. It's now like a brand new modern townhouse. 4bds, 5ba, $4,999,999M. (Like that price is gonna fool anyone, it's $5M)

The new hall entrance. Gone are the original railings.

Certainly there was a hallway and walls were removed to open up what were the former sitting rooms. The fireplace was completely renewed and the space is now an open concept living/dining room. If there were any medallions on the ceiling with original lighting, they are gone now, in favor of a smooth ceiling with modern pot lights.

The redone powder room. They gave the sink a high backsplash to mimic a vintage style.

I read every word of the description and it doesn't say what these surfaces are. Judging by the sharp edges, they don't Iook like marble or quartz. I would actually venture to say that they're laminate.

The description talks about the white coffered ceilings, which may or not be original. This is a family room off the everyday dining room, featuring a built-in sink/bar.

It also has built-in shelving with a black & gold background, plus a new fireplace.

The everyday dining room.

1st floor bedroom with an en-suite shower.

Stairs to the next level. Note how the railings wrap around the walls.

Primary bedroom with a new fireplace and a built-in.

The en-suite matches the fireplace.

Closet/dressing room.

Room for a home gym or a Zen space for meditation and yoga.

The laundry room is on the floor convenient to the main bedrooms.

Secondary bedroom has a large closet and en-suite shower.

Seating area on the landing has a kitchenette and doors to the rooftop patio. Notice the new glass elevator.

The rooftop patio features a covered seating area with a modern firepit and outdoor kitchen.

Look st this- I think it's an astro-turf rooftop yard.

The other 2 of 4 bedrooms are in the basement. This one has a private sitting area and kitchenette.

Spacious shower room.

2nd bedroom in the basement.

This is the basement entrance and wine cellar.

The home comes with 2 garages and the furnishings are available to purchase.

[unadulteratedfandomtrash]

Steve Rogers x Reader ~ Early Morning Showers  [Shield Adventures]

A/N: Hi, guys. Sorry for the short fic this time around. I didn’t want to force myself to add more when I’m content with how everything is now. Stay tuned for more!

[My Marvel Masterlist]

Word Count: 1154

When Steve habitually woke up at 0600 on a Saturday morning, he was expecting to find (Y/n) nestled underneath the thick duvet, snoring away for another three hours before her alarm was set to go off. Yet, when the blond super soldier manages to peel open his bleary eyes, an arm reaching out beside him to hug his wife, he is met with a cold bed sheet and soft impression of her body pressed into the mattress.

“Not again…”

Steve comes to the conclusion that the chances of her having left to use the bathroom are slim, given that (Y/n)’s side of the bed would still be warm in that scenario, so he decides to roll out of bed to check the next possible location: the kitchen.

Sock-clad feet shuffle softly on the laminate floors as Steve makes his way to the kitchen in the search for his wife. He starts to lose hope in his assumption the further he walks down the hall. If she were rummaging around in the kitchen, he would be able to hear a huge commotion, or smell the food or coffee, before turning the corner.

“Maybe the balcony,” he mutters. (Y/n) loves to curl up with a blanket on the tufted lounge they purchased shortly after their marriage. She uses the time to gaze at the amazing view offered by the Avengers compound as she reflects on past events; there have been many instances in which the blond super soldier would be scrambling to find his wife, and during his frantic search, the woman in question was simply relaxing out in the balcony bundled up in a fuzzy blanket with a steaming mug of tea, staring off into the distance.

But when Steve turns to look at the balcony sliding door, he realizes it’s raining, so she would not be outside. A bit of panic rises in him once he realizes (Y/n) is not in her usual spots. 

Running over to the room door that serves as their front door—Tony assigned each Avenger their own cottage-sized room—Steve scans the rack of shoes to check for any missing pairs. Sure enough, there is a missing pair of boots he distinctly remembers buying for her last year in celebration of their anniversary. (Y/n) had been eyeing those shoes every time they took a trip to the mall, so Steve snuck out to purchase them on one of his days off when she flew off for a solo mission.

The clattering of keys breaks Steve out of his trip down memory lane. Instead of waiting for the door to be unlocked, the blond super soldier opens it from his side. The door practically flies off the hinges as he flings it open, scaring both himself and (Y/n) as the impact of the doorknob leaves a small indentation in the drywall.

“Steve, be more gentle with that door! I don’t want Tony to make a fuss about you damaging the place when he’s letting us stay for free.”

“It’s fine, I’ll patch it up later on today,” Steve mutters, glancing at the dent for only a brief second before shifting his focus back on (Y/n). All the pent up anxiety floods out and bombards her as the man interrogates his wife. “Where have you been? I was looking all over the place for you. I nearly called Nat to wake her up just to ask if you went over to her room.”

During his frantic questioning, (Y/n) awkwardly glances at the heavy piece of metal to her right. She needed a free hand to open the door, so she ended up resting it on the wall by the door. If Steve finds out, he will throw a fit.

“I just needed to stop by the drug store really quick,” (Y/n) explains as she holds up the several bags of snacks in her arms. 

“Did you buy everything they had in there? Here, let me help you.” Two hands immediately dart out to grab onto the heavy plastic bags, despite the fact that his wife is an Avenger with telekinesis and is perfectly capable of carrying her own shopping, while also gesturing for her to step inside. However, instead of walking in, (Y/n) keeps glancing to her side, which confuses Steve. “What? Did you buy even more stuff?”

“No, I…um-”

Before she can come up with an excuse, Steve is already stepping out to peer into the hallway. The sight should not surprise him, but it does. In the hallway, leaning against the wall, is his shield. It had not crossed his mind to look for the shield when he woke up to find (Y/n) was missing, again.

“(Y/n)!!”

Other than the fact that she had, once again, stolen his prized possession and weapon of choice, Steve is appalled to find the item in question being drenched in water. While he knows the metal will not rust—seventy years in the ice provides enough proof of that—he does not know why his wife needed to bring the shield along for an impromptu snack run. 

“Why exactly did you take my shield with you at 6 in the morning?” Steve sends a pointed look in her direction as he sets the bags down to bring in the shield. A foot stretches out to kick the door shut while he inspects the shield for any damages. Thankfully, the only thing he has to worry about is water stains.

“It was raining outside, and I couldn’t find an umbrella,” she explains casually with a slight pout. “There’s just enough surface area to cover me and my bags of snacks.”

In the darkness, Steve has a hard time reading her facial expressions clearly, but he can tell that something is off. She is telling the truth, that much is obvious, but there is a hint of nervousness in her voice that is leaving him worried once more. 

“Couldn’t the snacks have waited until later on? I would’ve gone with you.”

“Steve, I can handle a quick trip to the drug store.”

The finality in her voice leaves Steve hesitant to push the subject any further. Rather than risking the start of an argument. He knows (Y/n) will eventually bring up the subject later on in the future, so he raises his arms in defeat, choosing to busy himself with putting away the snacks from her recent shopping spree.

As he begins to store the bags of chips into the cabinet, the slamming of a door in the distance catches his attention. Steve briefly wonders if he should go check on (Y/n), but comes to the same conclusion as he did moments ago.

Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, (Y/n) opening the plastic bag she snuck inside. The four boxes scatter across the tiles as she tears into each one.

“Okay…let’s see if I’m right…”

[philtstone]

if you’re still taking prompts from that list, I’d love to see your take on the nemesis one for any of your modern AUs!

sorry it's not an EXISTING modern au but it is. a modern au. partially inspired by many many many things most significantly a post i literally cannot find again no matter how hard i look... also by anne from anne of green gables. anyway, this is mostly just vibes. and my own salad shirazi opinions. in that order.

In Arwen's house growing up family dinner was always a shared time of day, so it makes her glad that the small apartment her father moved into last year honours the same principle.

“It’s not that he irritates me,” eighteen year old Eowyn, fresh out of her first term of university and with her long gold hair in a tangled braid down her back, is explaining from the dinner table. “I hardly get irritated easily — it’s just that he’s so sweet and friendly all the time, I am sure he’s up to something.”

“Eowyn dear,” says her uncle. His attention is mostly absorbed by the newspaper in front of him. “If you might repeat that first part aloud, and reflect on it a bit.”

Eomer snorts from the sink. Gandalf had tasked him with washing the dishes — he had more or less nothing to contribute to meal making. Eowyn makes a face at him.

“I am good tempered. It’s just no one who’s normal is that nice. Certainly not a man.”

Gandalf, who’s in the midst of a very complex chess game with Arwen’s father, chuckles a bit. 

“Indeed?” Ada asks, with a wry smile. Eowyn blushes.

“Do not tease her, you men,” Arwen says, sweeping in to add hot water to the tea cups. The pale green flats of the fragrant tea leaves sent in express overseas mail by her maternal grandparents swirl in the kettle’s pour. Authentic green tea has a potency Arwen has not found in anything purchased around here. “You know she isn’t talking about you, and anyway, she’s right.” 

While Gandalf says, “Do tell us more, then,” charitably, Arwen returns to the small kitchen island. The rice is coming into its own in the cooker. Rice is always a comfort; it unites across cultures and races. Admittedly to this day Ada will prefer jasmine to basmati, no matter Arwen's own fascination with the latter. She sets about peeling two thick skinned cucumbers and dicing them, along with tomatoes from Mr Bilbo's garden, into a bowl. Then comes the shallot, and its lilac purple skin. Arwen has always loved the colour lilac. She has a nightgown a shade lighter than this onion, which her fiance sighs over dreamily every time it’s taken out.

Behind her Aragorn chops tarragon for the lentils, which are bubbling. He has embraced jasmine rice since childhood. His hair is tied out of his face and just barely escaping the doom of a man bun (Aragorn is too sincere about everything to accidentally look like the smarmiest versions of his countrymen) and he smells of fried onion and rose oil, like he often does when in this place. In matter of fact he smells like this kitchen is decorated: the multiple little knick knacks lining the sil, the old silver, the warm reds of the woven rug in the floor (one of an innumerable number kept in Iverworn’s house), and the cracked old laminate tiling – brown. There is some comfort in the idea that Gilraen's old apartment is still in the family. Only now, Ada has his little shrine in the den which doubles as his study, and a few more photographs have been added to the baby pictures lining the front hallway.

On the other end of the table Gimli and Legolas sort through Bilbo's rock collection while the old man gives running commentary on where he found each one. Arwen’s cousin is being educated on geology in the process. Frodo and Sam and the rest are still at school; Aragorn has volunteered to go pick them up in a half hour.

“This ought to go in the sedimentaries pile, Legolas. You see the distinctive layering – to really know we’d check for carbonate, but I’d say this is a solid limestone.”

“I don’t understand. Many of them have layers. That one with the crystal –”

“Running in parallel. Look, they’ve sedimented. It’s in the name, for Mahal’s sake. The geode, a sedimentary rock? Preposterous.”

“I found that one in Dale you know. It was, oh, twenty years ago or so now — I’d just had a pint with your dad, Gimli – you remember what he was like twenty years ago, wearing those garish red turbans (though they suited him well) – and when we came out on the street there it was by the lamp post, a little lump of a thing. I thought to myself, why, that looks just like Lobelia’s terrible laddoo – you haven’t tried them, but they’re glorified pebbles, with how dry and small she makes them – and then I turned it over and thought, where might a pretty piece of rock like this come from in the middle of such a town? But then, Dale is very metropolitan …“

Absently, Arwen begins humming to herself.

“Won’t someone put on some decent music?”

“Don’t look at us old men, Eomer. Haven’t the youth got a stereo system?”

“Oh, it's all Bluetooth now. Ah — I have your rook there, Elrond.”

“No he hasn’t; that’ll put his queen in jeopardy.”

“Keep your eyes on your lentils, Estel, my own function perfectly well. He’s been doing this since he was a boy.”

“Oh, yes, yes,” says Gandalf, with the wise knowing of someone who was there to witness such behaviour in person.

Between it all, everyone is somehow still managing to listen attentively to Eowyn as she expounds her theories and suspicions.

“He’s asked four times if we could study together after class. Four times. The next major exam we have is worth sixty perfect of the grade and I’m sure he saw me speaking with the professor last week because I was so determined to pass it. No one passes that exam, according to the third years –”

Arwen stirs the lentils and wonders if they ought to take a little bowl to the shrine.

“Perhaps he’s looking for a friend,” says Gandalf philosophically.

“Maybe he’s a creep, like Wormtongue was,” suggests Eomer darkly.

“He’s only starstruck by a girl in the engineering course,” says Bilbo, with a bit of (not unkind) humour in his voice. Then he reaches into his large duffel, which he lugged indoors with Aragorn and Eomer’s help, and extracts a box of fresh sweets for the table. These, Arwen hopes, are better than Lobelia’s – though she is sure they will be much too sweet for her own taste.  

“There are girls in engineering these days, old friend,” Gandalf interjects with a raised eyebrow, but Eowyn is not really paying attention to either of them.

“Last week at lab he gave me a book about zoological diseases I mentioned off hand almost a month ago,” she says with that earnest way she has. “That doesn’t have anything to do with engineering. Do you think he was trying to throw me off my game before our lab quiz?” 

It is very hard to keep a straight face at this inquiry, but Arwen – and many others present – manage it. “Have you considered that he might have just thought you’d like it?” asks Arwen.

“But that’s none of his business,” Eowyn says, as though this was obvious. 

“How did he know you liked it then?” asks her brother, baffled.

“We’ll — I told him,” says Eowyn. She flushes a bit. “But he initiated the conversation. We should have been talking about closed circuits.”

“Or nothing at all, apparently,” says Ada gravely.

“You don’t know him. He’s got a look in his eye. I can just tell.”

“Oh look, I’ve found him on Facebook.” 

And so Legolas has, and they all converge around his smartphone while Eowyn glares defiantly. 

“Faramir, is it? You know, he kind of looks like you, Estel.”

“Yeah – if you were much scrawnier and looked like a dweeby engineering student.”

“They look nothing alike,” says Eowyn hotly, crossing her arms – Arwen cannot help but catch Aragorn’s eye (he looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh, not helped at all by Gandalf, who is looking right at him, and skillfully masking his own merriment besides) “and Aragorn would never be such a — a — a snake, anyway.”

Arwen agrees with this hypothetical assessment, at least. She rummages through the fridge and retrieves the fresh clutch of herbs she needs for her salad.

“But what has he done, Eowyn. The poor boy. There is a bit of dweebishness there, isn’t there … indeed …”

“Look at the last name; isn’t that Denethor’s boy?”

“Oh yes, that would explain it. Engineering? Of all things? I always thought he had a poet's soul when he was a kid.”

“I wonder how they’re doing – haven’t spoken to the man in an age, you know.”

“Denethor you mean?”

“Well, not since the incident with that poor tree in the synagogue’s front yard,” says Gandalf sadly. “You were there Aragorn, you remember –”

“Hmmm,” says Aragorn grimly.

“Well I told you,” interrupts Eowyn. “I haven’t got proof, just suspicions! He’s trying to psych me out of this program. But I tell you – I won’t let him!” 

Arwen wonders if perhaps Eowyn had grown up around sisters, she wouldn’t insist so very hard on sticking it out through a degree she is not really interested in. These ruminations are interrupted by a soft touch at Arwen's waist. “Hm?” she says.

“I’m off to pick up the kids,” Aragorn begins in a low voice (the assembly continues to chatter behind them). She smiles at him, then stops: for reasons unexplained he is suddenly offering her a horrified expression he usually only reserves for conservative Tik Tok mommy vloggers and occasions where Pippin is about to grievously injure himself on the park playset.  “... What are you doing?” he asks.

“Adding the mint,” she says serenely. 

“Fresh?” Like she must be mad.

“Doesn’t it have mint?” 

It is his grandmother's recipe, after all; silly man.

“Dried.”

“Your mother always said it had to be fresh.”

“Fresh dried mint,” he clarifies, gravely.

“Really Estel.”

“Take over the lentils.”

“That was your job — and you’ve got to pick up Frodo and his friends.”

“In ten minutes.”

“You’re going to ruin it. Mr I Can Subsist On A Can Of Beans.”

“I can subsist. That doesn't mean you can add fresh spearmint to a perfectly good salad. It tastes completely wrong.”

“Estel …” But Aragorn has already ducked beneath the counter to reach deep into the recesses of their spice cabinet and retrieve an extremely dusty repurposed jar of dried mint, now cradled in his brown hands. The half-peeled label is for sour cherry preserves, which Arwen is sure no one in this family has bought from a store since they discovered the tree in Ada’s backyard.

“This is hardly fresh,” Arwen says archly.

“I dried it last week,” he says, all innocence. His t-shirt is worn and ratty enough that its low collar shows off her old necklace. She can see the jade flower and her own name etched in the characters of her mothers language at the center.

She sighs. Kisses his cheek; takes the mint. “Go fetch Mr. Bilbo’s wards.”

“They’re going to make a mess of my car,” he says, as if he did not happily volunteer for this task.

“Your car is already a mess, my love.”

So he goes, grinning. Arwen adds the mint to the salad and renters the fray.

“Eowyn,” she says. “Perhaps the next time he asks to study, you might take him up on it. That way you can get close enough to catch him at his awful scheme.”

Eowyn's mouth widens in a ponderous oh, as if she had never thought of this. Arwen pats her shoulder comfortingly.

“Food will be ready in ten minutes,” she says. Ada is smiling at her — a true smile, not without its own edges of memory, but no longer the bittersweet thing of three years ago. Arwen smiles back.

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 12. Richie Jerimovich

PROMPT is from here and I’m using: “What do you mean you’ve never gone trick-or-treating?!”

A/N: it’s canon in my head that when richie is ready to find a new love interest that they will be plus sized idk that’s just what my brain tells me. This reader is also plus sized and could be a potential love interest but this falls in line of somewhat platonic?

WARNINGS: language, triggering matters such as ED, plus-sized reader, + some childhood verbal bullying.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊

Halloween or fall season wasn’t really Raquel’s joy. She was more of a Christmas girlie by all means but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t attempt some fall things. Take right now for example: she had her hands deep into the guts of a pumpkin, the stench of the vegetable almost made her gag and it happens every year where she’s reminded that she prefers dealing with squash much more. Yet here she was, scooping out the insides and allowing the stringiness to get caught underneath her tortoise nails; zoning out after browsing dreadful Facebook.

Raquel’s tunnel daze is dragged away after harsh kicks are sent right to her door. She’s blinking rapidly as she comes to terms that the sound is coming from outside and not from her head. The 5’10 woman pulls her hands from the pumpkin, ready to move over to the sink to rinse her hands quickly but settles for wiping them on her half apron, then jogs over to the door.

“Who is it?” Raquel questions, disliking that she doesn’t have a peephole but is aware that she could lean over her couch to peer out the window.

The reply is instant but muffled, “your best dream come true! C’mon it’s me, open up!”

Raquel smiles at this, “sorry. I don’t know anyone by, ‘c’mon it’s me!’ Maybe you have the wrong house?”

“The same house that I’ve been over a jillion times before?! I don’t think so sweetheart.”

“If you been here before, how come you don’t have a key?” Raquel continues to play along.

Richie huffs, “I can barely keep up with my own keys so we both know giving me another would probably be a lost cause.”

Raquel unlocks the door soon after and welcomes the fresh 62 degree weather of the early afternoon in before her friend. “Richard, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

In richie fashion, he barges into the condo, kicks squeaking against wood laminate floors as he enters, holding a plastic bag up in the air for the dark haired woman to see. Closing the door behind him, Raquel spins on her fuzzy socks to follow richie right to the eighty-eight square feet modern kitchen.

“Those stools still haven’t come in?” Richie states the obvious as he eyes the outside of the bare counter.

Raquel sighs, “they’re now apparently on back order but it took me to contact them in order to get that information.”

“Shit,” Richie comments, “told you just to cancel the order, get your money back, and we can go down to TJMAXX to get a way better steal than what you probably paid for two of those chairs.”

It’s funny how richie used to give Raquel crap for her weekend errands and now he didn’t mind attending when he could.

Raquel leans her elbows against the counter with a smirk, “that maybe true but I wanted quality over bargaining.”

Don’t take this the wrong way, she had plenty of decor pieces that she just purchased from that exact store but she wanted something a little more upscale since she didn’t exactly have the space in this condo to make a formal dining area. A friend suggested getting a round table to place towards the path of the walkway from the entrance but Raquel decided against that since she didn’t want the second bedroom to be blocked whenever company exited.

Although it was only Raquel and her gray hairless Sphynx, Archibald. Majority of the time Raquel was traveling to other events and her friends’ home and rarely had gatherings at her place. Perhaps it had to do with her own trust issues after facing a break-in last year at her old apartment prior but Raquel was fine with forming a shell around herself.

It was necessary yet that shell came down a bit whenever Richie was around.

“Ah, Suit yourself!” Richie pulls out the items he’s brought with him, “anyway! I brought over some goods for your Sunday dinner.”

Raquel quirks up a brow, “you did?”

“Oh please, don’t look so shocked.” Richie peers over at the woman who grins at him, “it’s nothing big just some shit I got on my evening with Chef Terry, Garrett, and Jessica.”

Raquel sat up some, reaching to move the empty bag to the side now to eye the objects near by. She picks up a jar first and nods, “mint-jelly? Let me guess, some if not all of these things are things you tried but ended up hating.”

Richie rolls his eyes, knowing he’s been caught. “Whatever! I asked Syd what the purpose of that shit was after Chef Terry recommended it and Syd said it pairs well with certain meats and I know lamb is actually one of your favorites so I thought of you.”

Raquel bares her teeth into her bottom lip as she cracks the jar open, sniffing at the sweet but tart aroma and shrugs, “well thanks for thinking of me, rich. I’ll definitely try this out next time I make lamb.”

She steps towards him to peck him on the cheek and Richie fans her away as she goes back to look at the other objects.

“What’re we having tonight then if it’s not your best dish?!” Richie starts swinging his hands back and forth, then scrunched his nose up after noticing the pumpkin, “please don’t tell me it’s that bullshit over there?”

Raquel glances at the pumpkin and laughs to herself, “no. That’s solely for decor purposes only.”

“Oh thank fuck, I thought you were gonna tell me you’re obsessed with all things pumpkin now and then I was gonna have to cancel your ass.” Richie wiped the faux sweat from his brow as he turns, arms hunched behind him as if he’s ready to launch himself up onto the counter.

Raquel sends him a warning glance and Richie scoffs, choosing to pick the charcoal gray sectional in the adjacent living room instead.

“You could never cancel me, Richard.” Raquel informs as she places the new items into their designated spots before turning back to wash her hands, “you love me too much.”

Richard tilts his head before reaching for the remote, “yeah I do, so don’t you forget it.”

Raquel sends him a soft smile which Richard holds dear to his heart with his wide blues, before flicking the tv on, making himself right at home.

And it’s just like any other typical Sunday, with Richie coming over to watch some game Raquel didn’t care about but would still be near, either doing her “grandma activity,” which was cross-stitching or commenting here and there (while cooking) after finding out which team they should be rooting for. When commercial breaks start, Raquel is just finishing up the last pumpkin she’s been working on to place on the outside of her front door.

She waves at a neighbor, Antanios who lives on the top floor and lived here the longest with his teenage grandson (after his mother passed), who’s sitting on the shared patio set reading the newspaper.

“Looks nice, Azizi. Can’t wait to see what you do for Christmas.” The elderly man comments with a wink, playfully glancing upwards towards the second floor, where your other neighbor, Clarise—who was in her mid-fifties; who Raquel playfully called her auntie—liked to battle her with the outdoor decor whenever Christmas came around.

Thankfully Raquel found peace in this neighborhood and with solid neighbors. Although she was youngest here—not counting Antanios’ grandson Elias, she found a sense of belonging here like she never did before.

Raquel smiles at the man, “and I can’t wait for your review.”

Antanios dips his head, turning his attention back to the newspaper. He was always the one to settle the score and was always fair, which was humorous in a way considering he was a retired district attorney. It was only right in Raquel and Clarise’s eyes to have Antanios tell it to them straight.

“Tell Richard I said hello.” Antanios said, keeping his eyes on his paper.

He was a quiet but observant man who noticed it all. However it was no secret that Richie was one of the main ones that always kept coming around to visit the tenant on the last floor.

“Hey Antanios!” Richie yelled from the couch before Raquel closed the door, but not without seeing the man smirking to himself.

“Uh hello! I was just about to have a conversation with my favorite person at this place.” Richie frowned as Raquel laughed at him.

“I’ll save him the trouble,” Raquel stated as she went back into the kitchen, “and Archibald and I definitely take offense to that.”

Richie doesn’t flinch as the mentioned cat jumps onto the arm of the chair by his head, arms making room for the gray cat to make themself comfortable right on his chest.

Richie scratches the animal, “Why? Antanios is my guy! I have real conversations with that man when I crash here and you fall asleep on me! It’s like you always think he’s not listening but he’s got wisdom like he’s fucking buddha or something.”

Raquel nods at that but can’t help but to snort, “is this your way of telling me I should get you a Buddha necklace for Christmas this year since you found your calling and all that?”

Richie thinks about this, “I mean shit, I’d wear it but don’t think I’m gonna be out here bald like this uncooked cat here.”

“Don’t talk about my baby like that.” Raquel warns.

Archibald meows and Richie laughs, “he knows it’s all love but he’s definitely given me a few heart attacks sneaking up on me during the night.”

Richie’s never had a pet before in his life so he really didn’t know what he was missing. Now he has Raquel in his life and Eva’s been over a few times before which sparked her interest in getting a hamster or bunny. Tiffany was against it because she felt that would be more work for her but richie just wanted to make his little girl happy and believed if you taught Eva how to tend to it, she would do a good job. She just had to find her footing is all and Richie felt there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Which is exactly why he was setting some money aside to get whichever one Eva chose.

“Bacon and spinach stuffed chicken or honey glazed salmon,” Raquel clapped to get Richie’s attention after he dived back into the game.

Richie took his time answering, “huh? Uh, the chicken.”

It’s Raquel’s turn to hum at him but soon another commercial comes on, making Richie annoyed as he jumps to his feet. When he faces Raquel he notices that she’s got her attention on her phone while still holding the packages of meat.

“Fucking commercials are killing me!” Richie hisses as he makes his way into the kitchen to raid the fridge for a beverage.

He cracks open the soda and sips from it, then plucks the salmon from Raquel’s hand to place back into the fridge. Which was always fully stocked despite the fact that she was constantly traveling every other weekend being a web designer. It wasn’t unusual for Raquel to get quiet on Richie but the zoning out was what become concerning, especially when he snapped his fingers in front of her face to not receive any answers.

It wasn’t until he yanked up her phone to bring it to his attention. Richie looks at the photo of some lady named: Brooke Weisel-Heeni who has her hand resting on a very large baby bump in a wedding dress followed by a large sized wedding ring and another set of hands covering her’s. Richie didn’t have time to read the caption before Raquel snatched the phone back to place face down.

“You never told me how dinner went with the michelin crew? Any progress with Jess?” Raquel says, suddenly back down to earth as she moves to search the kitchen to cut open the package of chicken.

Richie blinks, “we can get into that later. Who’s this Brooke lady that you were cyber stalking?”

“If I wanted to stalk somebody, she would be my last choice.” Raquel retorts making Richie quirk up his brows.

Richie silently thinks to himself on how to approach this. Clearly there was something touchy about this Brooke person and he didn’t like how Raquel was moving about it either.

“Okay…then…how do you know her?”

Raquel shrugs her shoulders, “we went to middle and high school together and remained friends—Facebook friends.”

Richie sips from the can, “just Facebook official, I get it. So…was there beef I need to know about? Do I gotta hate the lady too?”

That earns a crooked smile from Raquel.

“I’m thirty-three years old! What am I doing being still hung up about how she treated me back then?! Especially since I considered her a friend in middle school. Yes, kids can be some motherfuckers but I mean people can change and you grow right? But I don’t like that I’m feeling a way seeing this hard launch of a wedding and pregnancy.” Raquel starts to vent but Richie feels he’s still missing out on the context.

One thing about Raquel is that she only lets, “motherfucker,” slip out is when she’s highly frustrated about something. So richie knew this was serious business.

“Hey, I’m not judgin’,” Richie raises his hands, “I’ve got, I think two assholes that neither Mikey and I were cool with back in the day on my page but that other assclown? Griffin Georgiou?! Yeah! He tried to add me, ripped him a new one and blocked him immediately after he kept trying to go back and forth wit me.”

Raquel sighed with her head thrown back, making Richie nudge her with the back of his hand, “if you wanna talk about it, lay it on me. If you don’t, then we move on but I’ll lock in that this Brooke lady is on my shit list.”

It’s the fact that she’s getting choked up talking about this, that doesn’t sit right with Richie. However he knows boundaries and realizes not to push them when they came to Raquel. So he eyes her as she’s on autopilot, getting ready to prepare the Sunday dish. It’s silent besides the football game on the tv and he moves beside her, watching her and picking up on what he can do to help prepare dinner.

“…what’s on the agenda for Halloween?” Richie changes the subject, “I hope you got the good shit for the little rascals and also for me because I’m definitely coming over later to eat your stash!” Richie tells the friend beside him as he works on cleaning the spinach.

Raquel lifts her shoulders, “I uh—haven’t thought much about it? Probably get off work just to head over to the bar or go to the bar after work and come home to have a chill night in or give to the kids.”

“Sounds good to me,” Richie replies, “let me know if you decide to give candy because Eva and I will definitely roll through.”

Raquel let’s a small smile greet her lips. She was glad that richie was making the effort to be a better parent to his child and attempting not to create the same disruptive pattern his parents had him in. Eva’s a bright girl, a little on the shy side but as soon as Raquel brought out a mini water color kit that she had stored away for traveling purposes, Eva seemed to lighten up.

“Aw! Let me guess? She’s going as Taylor Swift?”

“BOOM! You got it!”

“Which era?”

“The fact that you know that’s a thing when you’re not a swiftie is impressive.” Richie comments, making Raquel roll her eyes.

Richie laughs a little, “Eva’s doing the lover era. Lots of colors, which I’m not surprised considering I have a little artist on my hands. Tiff’s going for—I think she said evermore.”

Raquel nods, a smile twitching on her lips as if she knows much about either, “and what’re you going for?”

“Do I go with fearless or 1989? But make it manly since I got to keep my street cred high,” Richie puffs out his chest which makes Raquel pull a mocking face, “and risk the chance of scaring my child with adding horror elements to that theme while potentially pissing her mother off? Or do I not dress up for trick or treating?” Richie rambles, which means he’s given this some thought.

Raquel speaks, “I don’t know…isn’t one of the points of trick or treating supposed to be getting dressed up? I’ve never been.”

Richie almost drops the bowl of cream cheese, spinach, mozzarella, and spices mixture that the chicken is supposed to be stuffed with, “What do you mean you’ve never gone trick-or-treating?!”

Raquel glances over her shoulder hearing the oven beep, signaling that the oven was set at the right temperature. “It wasn’t something that was encouraged for me. I didn’t really get to celebrate Halloween like the other kids or even my older brother, who was the popular kid.”

“Why?”

“A combination of things: Brooke, my Bulimic mother, my weight.”

Richie deeply exhaled.

“Sixth grade. I was always heavier than everyone else, always at the doctor to make sure I didn’t have any medical conditions that contributed to it but my pediatrician always reassured that it’s just baby fat and that it would fluctuate once I grew, story of my life!” Raquel humorlessly laughed, “as if my father didn’t come from that same body type. I was never overweight but the minute you’re not petite or shaped like a pencil in anyone else’s eyes, you’re fat and disgusting. Anyways the short story? Brooke and I were friends in middle school, she was having a Halloween party after going trick or treating. She said she forgot to give me an invitation and was about to give it to me in class but the other girls that she already invited said they wouldn’t want a piggy to eat all of their candy if I came. Know what Brooke did? Laughed right with them and kept my invitation in her backpack. I cried about it for the rest of the day and when I got home to tell my mom about it she said to me, ‘well if you wore clothes that actually fit then maybe they wouldn’t say those things to you.’”

Richie clenched his eyes shut, “that’s so fucked up and I’m sorry those turds made you feel that way! You know none of that negative bullshit is true then or now? They’re the ones who missed out on having a good person in their lives. Screw ‘em!”

Raquel rolls the tension from her shoulders, “Thanks for saying that. It’s something I’m always working on and loving this body that’s been given to me. And this isn’t some pity thing I’m trying to throw out there because I love who I am. It’s just seeing her face after all this time—I’m hardly on Facebook—pop back up on my feed caught me completely off guard.”

“Trust me, I get it.” Richie reassures, “…did she ever apologize?”

“Yup when we were both in our second year of college. Two Ohioan girls in New York, me in NYU and her at Brown University. She felt the need to update me about her college experience in the DM by the way, I never asked. I feel like she only apologized because of my friend Tommy though. He’s…unhinged. But I left her on read too which didn’t make me feel any better…but enough of my childhood trauma! Tell me about Michelin.” Raquel used the back of her hand to wipe at her damp eyes.

Richie ignores this and questions, “you wanna go trick or treating with me and Eva?”

“Huh?”

“You’re going!” Richie decides for Raquel who frowns.

“I can’t do that,” Raquel quickly shakes her head, “don’t know if you noticed but I’m grown now.”

Richie scoffs after eyeing Raquel’s profile, “oh I’ve noticed sweetheart…but Isn’t that what they say about adulthood, that you’re supposed to heal your inner child or whatever?”

“Where’s Richie and what have you done with him?” Raquel scanned the room with a hand above her brow.

Richie elbows her as they both share a laugh.

After awhile Raquel claims, “I don’t even have a costume or idea.”

“I mean…you could always join the era’s tour.” Richie kept a straight face as he peered over at Raquel who scrunched up her nose, “C’mon Rocky! Be one of us! There’s even friendship bracelets.”

“No, thank you.”

Richie began to move in a body roll as he screams, “'Cause we nеver go out of style, we nеver go out of style!”

Raquel widens her eyes in horror, “Oh god, what are you doing? Stop that and please sing anything else!”

“Okay.” Richie thinks to himself before belting, “Cause when you're, fifteen and somebody tells you they love you, you're gonna believe them!”

Raquel flinches as Richie’s voice booms off the walls of her condo, “I think we found which era you should really be. You felt that in your soul didn’t you?”

Richie clears his throat, “yeah, I think so but I don’t want anymore of your haterade when we come scoop you up. I’ve been growing out my hair too so maybe fearless is the best era to go with after all.”

“Did Jessica convince you to dye it blond too?” Raquel teased, peeking at Richie’s hair that did look a bit fuller compared it’s usual buzzed cut—now that he pointed it out.

Richie frowns over at Raquel, “damn you’re being nosy about Jessica!”

“Hey no need to get defensive,” Raquel smirked, “I’m just trying to see if you picked up on any vibes.”

Richie sucked his teeth, “I’m picking up on you scrambling around from choosing a damn costume!”

“I really don’t want to impose on you and Eva’s quality time.”

“What?! That kid loves you. Not as much as her old man but she likes you because she knows you and I are great together—the best of friends!”

“Don’t tell Fak that, he might get jealous.”

Richie scoffs, ready to toss a spinach stem her way, “as long as you don’t tell this Tommy person that.”

Raquel snorts, “believe me, Tommy does not give a damn who I keep around as long as they don’t mess with me or his business.”

It was apparent to Richie that Raquel only casually mentioned this Tommy person from time to time and he’s met her other friend, co-workers, and even her arrogant older brother but Tommy seemed to be this sort of invisible force that Richie never had the chance to meet.

Richie could live with that as long as he didn’t bring any trouble to Raquel’s door.

She already had Richie right by her side for some good trouble whenever she needed him and it had to be vice versa on Raquel’s end too right?

Well…a decade of friendship regardless of their age gap solidified that as Richie tossed a wrist over Raquel’s shoulder to place a kiss to her temple which she leaned into.

Her own personal safety net, which was never too far from her reach.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚

Read my final 2023 fall prompt here.

[haruchuiyo]

Missing nanami so much :(

Just imagining him do plenty of stuff like giving you the ingredients as you’re baking, sitting around the counter not bothering you as you bake. You make his favorite bread and cupcakes with his favorite frosting. He always get so blushy when you show him the tray of cupcakes knowing you made his favorites.

He’d think about you in the smallest thing ever. He saw a random stick on the ground? He is gonna send a pic of it to you and caption “it’s cute like you”. He sees your favorite brand of cookies? It’s already purchased. He saw a heart shaped leaf on the ground? He’s gonna pick it up so he can show it to you. Maybe even laminate it and make it into a bookmark.

Thinking about the way he’d cuddle you. Hugging your body to his, legs a tangled mess but he loves it. The feel of your body against his, feeling your heartbeat and your soft warm breaths against his collarbone. He always places soft kisses on your head and forehead. Telling you stuff like ‘i would work overtime if I knew I get this at the end of the day’ making you giggle even though he knows he will always get your lovely cuddles at the end of the day. He cups your face in his hands and presses a loving kiss on your lips, his eyes full of awe, love and gratitude.

He’s the type to randomly ask you to the dance in the middle of the living room with no music, so he hums a song he knows as he moves around the floor with you. His smile widens when he hums in a funny way, seeing how your head is thrown back while laughing and he always kisses your neck as he hugs you to himself and breathes in your scent.

[staticspaces]

Dome Sweet Dome

Don't forget there is also a video that shows you the entirety of this very unique location!!

https://youtu.be/kuhg83VrQb4

And finally in today's post we will be taking a look at the second floor, the outbuildings as well as a few close-up photos of this unique location!

In this week's post we will be exploring a geodesic dome house that has been sitting abandoned for about 10 years.

The first geodesic dome was designed after World War I by Walter Bauersfield who was the chief engineer at Carl Zeiss Jena, to build a planetarium.  But in 1946 Richard Buckminster Fuller coined the term "geodesic".  Using triangular shapes it is an extremely strong, light and efficient way of enclosing space.

Geodesic domes have mostly been created for specialised uses such as the 21 Distant Early Warning Line domes built in Canada in 1956.  While most of those domes are now gone or destroyed the design can still be seen today in more well known places such as Spaceship Earth at Epcot built in 1982, Science World in Vancouver built for Expo '86, The Climatron greenhouse at Missouri Botanical Gardens built in 1960 or even the Montreal Biosphere built for Expo '67.

Dome homes have been less successful than their commercial counterparts mostly because of their complexity and greater construction costs.  In 1986, a patent for a dome construction technique involving polystyrene triangles laminated to reinforced concrete on the outside, and wallboard on the inside was awarded to American Ingenuity of Rockledge, Florida.  This technique allowed homes to be prefabricated and assembled from a kit purchased by a homeowner.  It appears as though this particular dome used a similar technique.

Although using geodesic domes for houses never really took off, they seem to have had a bit of a resurgence in popularity when it comes to vacation homes in areas of great natural beauty.  These structures are built more like tents and often have large swathes of windows for extraordinary views of the surrounding landscapes.

[mylight-png]

Lamination sheets or thick strips of clear artist tape can be taped over posters to protect them from spray paint, markers, water damage, ect. It renders them wash-clean. However it does not fully protect against fire or sharp objects or acid.

If you coat the back of a poster with a few layers of glue or tape before you tape it up, it can make it harder to tear. Tape is better, especially if you double-layer it with the tape going in different directions. Or just use strips of duct-tape.

Likewise, layering grip tape and duct-tape and cross-pathing them can make posters extremely difficult to peel off a wall. Take it from someone who was convinced she'd want that poster of Jacob Black on her bedroom wall forever. It took me two hours to get off. More than enough time to call the police.

The best kinds of tape to purchase are industrial tapes. These tapes will usually have things like airtight, sealant, airguard, closure, repair, ect in their name. They are designed not to tear, weaken, ect.

Anti-attack dye spray, a legal alternative to pepper spray and mace, can be used on any people tearing down posters who also act threateningly towards you if you are in their vicinity. It can be sprayed on faces, hands, or any bare skin and it will stain them for up to 10 days. The color RED has been suggested as the main identifier for people who are vandalising posters. Please note, you can ONLY use this in defence. E.g; if they act aggressively, approach you, ect.

This one is a little odd, but poop barriers (or fake poop made using mud) are a tested, proven deterrent. If the posters are on a wall or a pole, coating the floor in front of it in fecal matter means most people will not willingly step in it in order to get to the posters. Farmers have been using this method for generations where I live to stop people getting into crop fields, orchards, ect. Nobody wants to step in poop. When I had an apple tree in my yard I made a fake poop barrier and it was the lone year my neighbors and the people in my area didn't climb my fence to steal apples.

I definitely recommend using fake poop because you might be charged if you use real poop.

Using a box or step ladder, putting posters up higher and out of reach can also reduce the chance of it getting vandalised. You may need to make the poster's visual content larger to compensate. Brightly colors arrows pointing upward toward the poster in place of where the poster would normally be will also encourage people to look up and see them.

Don't just tape them to walls and street poles. Ask local coffee shops and supermarkets if you can tape them in the windows or on the serving desks. Ask your local bus station if you can tape them inside. Crowdfund where possible and buy slots on digital street boards and billboards (if there's a group of you doing it, you can raise the funds as a group effort and create a slideshow of sorts.)

Get. Creative.

But also obey the law. Or at least skirt it with enough plausible deniability.

Ooooh neat, thanks for the advice!

[ambiguouspuzuma]

The Collector

There were collectors for every sort of thing, as Ruahei was slowly finding out. Children hoarded marbles and stickers, whilst adults sought out rare stamps and coins, classic cars and antique clocks, and anything in between. It seemed there was no limit to the human need for cataloguing stuff, and storing it in quantities which far surpassed their need. China plates and Russian dolls, bottlecaps and butterflies, second-hand records and first-edition books.

Ruahei was a collector of collections. Her home was filled with several similar arrays of minerals, stacks of matchbooks and autographs, each of them a trophy from a burglary gone by. There was always something about the satisfaction of a full set, the effort that had clearly gone into its completion, which she found irresistible. Not enough to have the patience for the slow hunt herself - but plenty enough to steal it once the boring work was done.

First of all, she collected information. Ruahei browsed certain forums, auction houses, garage sales and the occasional watering hole, listening out for an ill-judged boast or a proffered tip. Sometimes there was nothing, sometimes a whole glut of braggards, often somewhere in between. But lately, they were all telling her the same thing.

There was a new collector on the scene, a man with broad interests and deeper pockets. He was buying up antiquities, artefacts, valuable objects of every kind - but that wasn't all. The game's latest player was also investing in storage: a whole side of his house remodelled into a private gallery, filled with empty shelves and plinths on which to house his greatest treasures, whatever they might be. Nobody knew for sure, although they all liked to speculate.

A vast safe door, state-of-the-art, was brought in as the capstone to his project, the division between household and vault. That was the last detail they knew - after the works had been completed, the collector's doors had remained closed-off to the outside world. That was itself taken as a sign of the importance of his hoard. The gossipers' accounts differed as to its exact content, from lost artworks to secret letters, but all agreed that his collection must be majestic, inestimable, unique.

In other words, it would be the score to end them all. Ruahei couldn't resist a challenge, and so she began preparing for the greatest of her career. She collected every detail she could, assembling pieces of the jigsaw: the number of security cameras installed, the placement of these elusive pieces, tracking orders of plinths and shelves and bindings, presumably to suspend works from the ceiling. Her imagination ran wild, but her focus remained on what she knew, and what she might be able to do about it.

The front door was simple. Twice as thick as standard, triple bolted, no weak points like windows, a letterbox or even a keyhole. Well, that was easily dealt with: Ruahei went in through the kitchen window instead. The outside took a bit of manoeuvring - one undignified clamber over the garden fence, a second around an awkwardly placed hydrangea, which sat directly beneath the windowsill - but the countertops inside were clear, and she could scoot her way over the marble and onto the laminate floor.

From there, it was plain sailing. Ruahei had pulled old floorplans for the house from the purchase, and she knew exactly what had changed, where a wall had been knocked through and another one installed. She noted where the shade of the paint was slightly lighter, where the floorboards transitioned from old to new. There were fresh locks, too, which she picked the old fashioned way. It felt strange, as a thief, to head towards the place of most security, but that was always where the treasure was.

Ruahei padded softly through the empty rooms, ignoring other potential bounties in her path. A less discerning thief might have sprung for the oils on the walls, the silver cufflinks tossed so carelessly upon a desk, but they were barely even temptations. She wasn't here for a collection of two. A pair was nothing to the glory of a full house.

What she didn't see were the security cameras - although she knew that didn't mean that they weren't watching her, secreted into hidden nooks and crannies. She kept her head low, hood down, and moved as swiftly as she dared. No good could come of lingering. Every moment spent inside this house raised the risk of being caught, and Ruahei had no desire to see all of her careful plans undone by her own tardiness.

Only the safe itself brought her to a halt. The steel door was formidable, and this time there was no side window she could slip in through. Still, she had planned for that as well. It had been the last detail they knew, but the rumour-mongers had noted the make and model, and she had purchased one for her own burgeoning collection.

It had taken weeks to crack, but the men from the company had helpfully shown her how once she'd so carelessly forgotten her code. Practice had made her more adept than even them. It took a few more precious minutes, ears pricked for any movement behind her, but then it finally clicked open, two feet of steel swinging outwards on fresh hinges. Ruahei slipped around it. She was in.

But from the moment she entered the safe, she knew that she wasn't. The cameras were here, on the inside, for some reason - and they were the least of its surprises. There were bodies on the ground, fixed tight with the bindings she had thought meant for art. Some were moving, as if reacting to her presence, and breathed out faint words for her unhearing ears. They drew her focus, she only heard the clunk of the floor plate once it was too late.

Rauhei turned for the door, but two feet of steel could not be bargained with, and she was powerless to keep it from clicking shut again. She turned to face a room in darkness, but heard the security cameras swivel in her direction, followed by a man's deep voice.

"Welcome to my collection." The words seemed to echo within the walls of the safe, and the bodies on the floor cringed to hear it. "Which piece do you prefer? Is it all that you imagined you might steal?"

"Please," Ruahei called, and heard her own voice rebound in the confined space. There were no plinths here. No artefacts. This safe was nothing but a cell. "I was just curious. I promise I didn't take anything."

The voice laughed. "What might you have taken? If you came seeking those objects I purchased, I am afraid that I will have to disappoint you. I disposed of those myself, as privately as their acquisition was public. The bait had been set, you see. I needed only to buy them, and be seen to bury them somewhere in my control."

"But all those pieces... there were enough for a whole collection. Even all this work on your house, which was supposed to be a private gallery. It would have been easier just to keep them. Why go to all this trouble for a lie?"

"Such items hold no interest for me - so easily purchased and sold, relinquished at the flash of silver. The worth of a collection lies in the challenge of assembly, and I am afraid that wealth has taken that beyond my grasp, where mere chattels are concerned." The cameras moved again, as if to take in the others who lay bound around her, its vision piercing through the gloom. "Please, try to understand: I am no hoarder of trinkets. I am simply a collector of thieves."

[onlinestore23]

Empire Today review

Empire Today offers a range of products and services, including carpet, hardwood flooring, laminate flooring, tile flooring, vinyl flooring, and window treatments such as blinds and shades. They are known for their convenient and customer-focused approach, which includes in-home consultations, professional installation, and a satisfaction guarantee.

Here are some key aspects often highlighted in reviews of Empire Today:

Product Selection: Empire Today offers a wide variety of flooring and window treatment options, allowing customers to choose materials, styles, and colors that suit their preferences and requirements.

Convenience: One of the standout features of Empire Today is their in-home shopping experience. Customers can schedule a free in-home consultation where a representative brings samples directly to their home, allowing them to see how the products will look in their space and make informed decisions.

Professional Installation: Empire Today provides professional installation services for the products they offer. Many customers appreciate the expertise and efficiency of their installation teams, ensuring a high-quality finished result.

Customer Service: Empire Today strives to deliver excellent customer service throughout the entire process, from consultation to installation. Their representatives are often described as helpful and knowledgeable, guiding customers through product selection and addressing any concerns.

Satisfaction Guarantee: Empire Today offers a satisfaction guarantee, assuring customers that they will be satisfied with their purchase. If any issues arise, the company aims to resolve them promptly and to the customer's satisfaction.

Pricing and Affordability: While pricing can vary depending on the products and services chosen, Empire Today is often praised for providing competitive pricing and financing options that make their flooring and window treatments more accessible to customers.

It's important to note that experiences and opinions can vary from customer to customer. Reading more recent reviews and testimonials, as well as personally contacting Empire Today or scheduling a consultation, can provide you with the most up-to-date and detailed information about their products, services, and customer satisfaction levels.

Appointment set

[daemonmatthias]

Took a mental health/sick day on Friday and it was absolutely the right choice.

Our new administrator this year is stressing me the hell out. He is absolutely not good at his job primarily because he thinks he is but hasn’t actually built any kind of relationship with the team and never actually listens to us. I mean, he hears us, but no matter what we say his response is “I understand where you’re coming from but no”. So, y’know, he clearly does NOT understand where we’re coming from. Our needs are absolutely not being met and we have no way to communicate that with him. The instructional coach has been advocating like all hell for us and he’s been fighting her every step of the way. In all honestly, I think the instructional coach is going to have to get the curriculum coordinator to go over his head to make him listen. Because actually, he hasn’t listened to the curriculum coordinator either.

So anyway! I stayed home Friday because I genuinely believed that the chaos of the poorly planned homecoming pep rally + his controlling-ness was going to push my stress levels to the point of literally throwing up. I was probably right because the pep rally was a mess, I think, and would have taken up my planning AND our plc period so I wouldn’t have gotten a single break all day beyond my 30 min lunch considering I have lunch duty the other two lunches.

Instead, this weekend (+ Friday):

I read

I cleaned the kitchen

I organized the living room

I cleaned off my dresser

I put my buttons and pins on the display tapestry I had created earlier in the week

I bought fabric for 2 projects

I bought pillow inserts and finally replaced the pillows on our couch

I cleaned the bathrooms really well

I printed out and laminated The Nine Delights and purchased tiny closthespins so we both can mark which 3 per day we experienced in order to better manage our stress levels

We went on 2 walks

I organized the dining room

I put all the extra blankets away

I put grades in

I printed the individual student data cards from our most recent district test and finalized the process for which they will do corrections later this week

I replied to the teacher at our alternative school with detailed directions (with pictures!) for how students need to access my work when they’re over there.

I crocheted a new swifter cover

I finally created a pattern for and crocheted a simple swifter cloth for hand-dusting

We watched Critical Role without stressing about time.

I crocheted a new kitchen sponge that I love at lot more than my early ones

We discussed and have (mostly?) finalized our plan for next weekend when his parents are here for his birthday

We discussed our future out of state move a little and I think we’ve settled on a city

We did our regular errands (groceries & recycling drop) and didn’t stress out when they didn’t have some of what we needed, prompting a trip to a second store (+ Robert did laundry like normal and cleaned the floors extra good)

I remembered to go through and finalize our imperfect order for the week

I purchased a mystery dice set, which we will use to make our official ornament for the year

I purchased us each an expensive dice set we’ve been eyeing, which will take up 7 days each in our advent calendar

I hunted for and purchased 3 more advent calendar items for him, leaving just 1 day unaccounted for right now

And I know I needed that mental health day so badly because I did all that in 3 days, AND I FEEL GOOD. I feel rested and accomplished and much less stressed.

[titan-782]

DIY CLOSET RENOVATION

Welcome to our breakdown of a bespoke closet, DIYers! Since a customized closet is by its very nature unique, this blog article will serve more as a general guidance than a detailed blueprint. As a result, every space will be unique, as will every design decision. We'll describe the supplies and equipment we used to build the closet in this blog, as well as some advice on how to complete your project successfully.

STEPS:

Measure your space and create your vision. Whether you're sprucing up an otherwise unused closet or modifying a spare bedroom, a clear vision of the final product is key. This will involve a little bit of math. Remember that the steel rod from which you will hang your clothes needs to be approximately 12 inches from the wall so that the hangers can hang freely.

Decide what kind of materials you want to use and make your purchase. In our video, we used melamine panels, mdf trim and lightweight hard foam crown moulding. You may choose to go with other options. There are many prefabricated and modular systems to choose from, but the DIY route will definitely save you a bunch of money. 

Frame the closet. Follow along in our video to see how Jeff approaches framing the different sections of the closet and the shelving unit. Since your design will be unique to your space, you will have to use some intuition and creative reasoning.

Install crown moulding and trim. Voila! You're finished.

Feel greeter use this video below as a reference:

TIPS:

To prevent the requirement for a support bracket in the middle, use a steel rod with a heavier gauge.

To prevent splitting the panel while using a brad nailer, insert the nails squarely and straight.

Install a middle shelf that is set in place while installing the adjustable shelving unit to strengthen the unit when you lean it up against the wall. When you lift the unit against the wall for installation, there will be less chance that it will get harmed as a result.

Don't count on your floors being level. Floors are nearly never level, even in modern buildings. So be prepared to either scribe (cut down) or shim (raise) the foot of your shelf and closet panels to make up the difference. This is really simple to do using a laser level.

You may use a clothes hanger to assist you visualize where you would like your clothing to be hanging when determining where your closet rod should be linked to the panels.

Lines, smudges, and pencil smudges won't stick to the laminate and may be simply removed once the job is completed. For a final cleaning, it is best to hold off until the end. 

Pre-drill the hole slightly before inserting the hardware for the closet rod since the included screws occasionally have trouble piercing laminated panels.

[ankit20222]

Best Interior designing Comany in Patna - Zee Architect

Zee Architect is Best Interior Designing Company in Patna.

Building construction Building construction is one of the first considerations for interior designing. It’s imperative to know how to create a sound foundation in order to achieve a long lasting structure that doesn't have to be renovated. There are several materials that can be used to construct a building. Each material offers its own set of advantages and disadvantages. Wood is considered a low cost option that provides many benefits. However, wood requires maintenance and repair over time. Concrete is a strong and durable choice that comes in various types. It can be installed quickly and easily, but concrete costs money. Metal comes in different forms including steel and aluminum. These types of metal offer good durability and high strength, making them ideal options for building construction. Glass is lightweight and shatterproof, thus serving as a great alternative for windows. Ceramic tiles are hard wearing and fire resistant. They're also water proof, making them perfect for flooring. Brick is versatile and beautiful, and they make excellent foundations for buildings. Stone is durable and beautiful, but it takes a lot of effort to build with stone, especially if done properly.

Flooring Flooring (Best Interior Designing Company in Patna) is the next consideration for interior design. Materials include; carpet, wooden floors, laminate floors, ceramic tile, linoleum, vinyl, parquet, and bamboo floors. Floors are a big aspect of any home, and choosing the wrong type could cause problems down the line. Carpet tends to wear out quickly, but is relatively cheap and easy to install. Laminate and wood floors are popular choices due to their ease of installation and affordability. Both provide soft comfort underfoot. Vinyl and plastic tiles are less expensive than other flooring choices, but they tend to crack after a few years. Ceramic tile is durable and beautiful. Linoleum and parquet are both highly durable. Parquet is not recommended since it's difficult to clean and maintain. Bamboo floors are eco-friendly and natural, but they require additional care.

Furniture Furniture is a huge and often overlooked part of interior decorating. If furniture is chosen poorly, it can ruin the look of a room. When purchasing furniture, consider ergonomics and style. Ergonomic furniture helps prevent back pain and repetitive strain injuries. In addition to being comfortable, furniture should fit the space well. A good rule of thumb is to buy items that are at least two times larger than the area where they've been placed. Style is everything and choosing a style that fits the person and the environment is half the battle. Modern furniture is trending right now. Traditional furniture styles include; Victorian, Regency, Transitional, Arts & Crafts, and Mission. There are so many different pieces of furniture available for purchase. You can get anything from simple benches to multi-functional desks, beds, tables, chairs, stools, cabinets, shelves, etc.

Lighting Lighting is another important aspect to interior design. Different types include; incandescent, fluorescent, halogen, LED (light emitting diode), and CFL (compact florescent light). Incandescent lights work well in dark rooms, but don't produce much light. Fluorescent bulbs last longer and look nicer than traditional lighting, but they need frequent replacement and are pretty loud. Halogens use less electricity and produce bright light, but the light quality isn't as good as other types. CFLs produce less heat and consume less power than other types of lighting. LEDs are a newer technology and produce brighter light without consuming much electricity. They tend to be more expensive though. Some people have reported issues with LED bulbs burning out after a year or two.

Home automation Home automation is becoming increasingly popular. People want to live efficiently and this includes saving energy. Automation makes this possible. Technology is advancing at a rapid pace and home automation solutions are no exception. One of the biggest advancements in home automation is smart thermostats. Thermostats can control heating and cooling remotely while giving homeowners the ability to schedule heating and cooling. Smart light switches allow you to turn lights on and off using your smartphone. They can even give you feedback about how much power you've saved by turning off unused appliances. Motion sensors detect when someone enters a room and turns off lights automatically. Most modern homes already have internet access, which means you can control some appliances remotely through your phone. A smart home can save you thousands of dollars each year due to reduced utility bills.

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Zee Architect is Best Interior Designing Company in Patna.