#This includes cleaning building exteriors

[allstaircaseandjoinery]

Pressure Washing services in Sugarland-Pressure Washing services in Waller TX-Pressure Washing services in Houston-Pressure Washing services in Sugarland

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

This 1953 Muntz Jet convertible underwent a three-year custom build under previous ownership, and it was purchased by the seller in 2021. The car is powered by a fuel-injected 5.7-liter LT1 V8 engine paired with a four-speed automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end, and it is finished in Apple Pearl with a white Carson-style removable top over gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery. Features include custom bodywork, an Art Morrison frame, power-assisted steering, four-wheel disc brakes, airbag suspension, Painless Performance wiring, and more modified and fabricated details. This custom-built Muntz is now offered with a copy of Rodder’s Journal magazine featuring a story on the build and a clean California title in the name of the seller’s business.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The steel, aluminum, and fiberglass body is mounted on an Art Morrison ladder frame that was boxed and finished in semi-gloss black, and the floor was raised 3″. The exterior was repainted in a Sherwin Williams two-stage Apple Pearl mixed by the late Stan Betz. Features include a chopped Duvall-style windshield, 1950 Chevrolet headlights, dual Appleton spotlights, 1951 Ford Victoria side windows, and a white removable Carson-style top fabricated to match the height of the chopped windshield. Additional equipment includes color-matched rear fender skirts and chrome bumpers. Wear from fitting the top is noted on the rear deck.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Steel wheels sourced from a 1976 Dodge measure 15″ and are mounted with Cadillac Sombrero-style covers and whitewall tires. A matching spare fitted with a BFGoodrich Silvertown tire is mounted within a rear-mounted Continental-style chrome carrier. A Mustang II front end accommodates power rack-and-pinion steering , and the car rides on an electronically-adjustable Air Ride Technologies airbag suspension system along with 2” lowered front spindles, Strange Engineering tube shocks, a rear Panhard bar, and front and rear sway bars. The seller reports that the front control arm bushings were recently replaced.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Braking is handled by GM G-body-sourced calipers matched with Ford Granada discs up front and Ford SVO-specification calipers and discs at the rear.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The cabin was customized by Jim’s Auto Trim of San Diego, California, and features Glide bucket seats and a rear bench trimmed in gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery, along with matching treatments for the dash trim, headliner, and door panels. Additional equipment includes a 1952 Lincoln steering wheel mounted to a shortened Lincoln steering column, gray cut-pile carpet, and a Pioneer stereo housed within a custom center cubby.

The engine-turned “Hollywood” instrument cluster houses Stewart Warner gauges consisting of an 8k-rpm tachometer, a 160-mph speedometer, and auxiliary readings for fuel level, battery charge, oil pressure, and water temperature. The five-digit odometer displays 25k miles, though total chassis mileage is unknown. A Lokar pedal assembly was fitted during the build.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The Corvette-sourced 5.7-liter LT1 V8 features a polished fuel intake manifold along with billet aluminum valve covers, and additional features include an Opti-Spark distributor, a Griffin aluminum radiator, and a wiring loom sourced from Painless Performance Wiring. A set of long-tube headers are connected to a 2.5″ exhaust system equipped with dual Dynaflow mufflers. The seller reports that the oil was recently changed.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Power is routed to the rear wheels via a four-speed 4L60E automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end with with 3.55:1 gears and Strange Engineering 31-spline axles. Additional photos of the underside, drivetrain, and suspension components are presented in the gallery below.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The car was featured in issue #36 of Rodders Journal magazine

[kuroonyang]

彡🍶⋆｡˚ what fragrance i think the haikyuu boys use.

note: i've been getting into the fragrance world recently, so this is the result of that. keep in mind this is all just my nose's opinion ;3

characters included: daichi, kuroo, oikawa, ushijima, bokuto, kita.

daichi!

daichi smells clean and comforting like freshFRESH laundry. even after a long day of practice or a match, he definitely still has a hint of that laundry scent in the background. everyone loves it, it's very addictive, and would have u stuffing ur face into his neck just to get a whiff ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎

'blanche — byredo' would be daichi's go-to and signature scent. i can also see him going for 'lazy sunday morning — maison margiela' since it does have that clean vibe, but people would definitely associate him with blanche a lot more.

kuroo!

kuroo smells almost complete opposite from daichi, but he smells divine ԅ(º﹃ºԅ). he's more on the woody, powdery side, but not so intense that it overwhelms you. just strong enough that it lingers behind as he's walking by.

'tam dao — diptyque' would be kuroo's signature scent. the fragrance has no florals, but still has the perfect balance of subtle sweet and spicy that suits his personality and appearance perfectly. tam dao isn't something i would class as a date night scent though, so he would change it up on those special occasions.

oikawa!

oikawa definitely prefers his florals over fruity, and a powdery scent would match his pretty and tidy exterior very well, but nothing too strong and sickening. so i also think a nice musky fragrance would be perfect to balance out the florals as well.

'fleur de peau — diptyque' would be oikawa's signature scent. the scent overall really works well with tooru's flirty and smug character. This particular fragrance is one that gets complimented heavily by literally anyone close enough to get a whiff, although it isn't one that typically turns heads, but tooru's face card alone will manage that just fine.

ushijima!

toshi would have a very masculine signature scent. something that just smells like man. he would smell very woody, maybe musky too. i can't imagine him rocking a very sweet or floral scent, which makes me think even more that it would be leaning towards woody and slightly spicy.

'oud wood — tom ford' seems like the perfect signature scent for toshi. the oud present in it isn't overwhelming (more woody), and even though there is some vanilla, it's not very in the foreground. he smells like a smart, sophisticated man. that's rich. with good taste. and one hell of a face card.

bokuto!

i can see bokuto leaning more towards just using a good reliable scented deodorant since he's always on the court, but he would still have an actual cologne that he'd use as his signature scent and for special occasions. along with ushijima, i think bokuto would have one of the more masculine scents on this list.

'tobacco vanille — tom ford' would be bokuto's signature scent. the tobacco and woody scents in the fragrance would suit his hunky, big boy build very well. it still has a sweet vanilla kick to it, which just fits him pretty perfectly in my eyes. if bokuto doesn't have some combination of woody (or musky) and sweet smell as his signature scent, he's wearing the wrong thing ☝️

kita!

SHINSUKE KITAAA 😫😫 this man likes to clean as part of his strict ritual, i KNOW he smells out of this world. even if the others smell a lil musty from practice, you will not catch kita slacking in that department. he wouldn't be overwhelmingly sprayed down with perfume, but regardless he smells heavenly.

'wood sage and sea salt — jo malone' would be kita's signature scent. If anyone on this list has just one signature scent that they live by, it's gotta be kita. i picked wood sage and sea salt because it's a clean scent and not too strong (I have a good feeling kita would gravitate more towards fragrances that aren't sickeningly strong). it's a nice marine, slightly musky and salty, scent. in three words: refreshing and clean. also, just something i think is worth mentioning, but kita's one of the few who would use a fragrance-free, clinically proven (!!) antiperspirant, so he really only smells of his signature scent.

end note: pls do go sniff any of these scents if you haven't already. they smell gorgeous ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ

[girlkisser13]

zeus cabin headcanons

children of zeus

• over time, they develop lightning scars on their body from the sheer amount of electricity that passes through them whenever they summon lightning.

• the mortals call these "stretch marks".

• they have a hard time holding their breath for longer than a minute due to their father’s air-based nature.

• eventually, someone sets up a tent inside to make it feel less empty and uncomfortable.

• they have an intrinsic understanding of the law wherever they are and could pass a bar exam with no preparation.

• they can play electric guitars and basses without using an amp.

• they give off little shocks when they're happy.

• they have a natural charisma that draws others to them, coupled with an authoritative aura that commands respect.

• they are immune to static electricity.

• their personalities are intense, mirroring their father’s own mood swings. they are passionate and driven, but are also prone to sudden bursts of anger if things don't go their way.

• when chiron decided that the electricity bill was getting too expensive, he had the hephaestus cabin set up underground wires so they could extract electricity from their cabin.

• due to their strong personalities, they have a complex relationship with authority figures, sometimes clashing with them or struggling to fit into conventional roles.

• they’re extremely impulsive and quick to act, especially when they sense injustice or danger. their actions are often driven by a strong sense of urgency.

• a lot of them grow up to become pilots or meteorologists.

• the statue of zeus is constantly covered with blankets to prevent anyone from seeing his "hippie" face glaring down at them.

• they can move lightning-fast over short distances, becoming electricity in the process.

cabin exterior

• the cabin resembles a large, imposing greek temple. it is made of solid white marble, giving it a regal and timeless appearance. the building has a rectangular shape with a peaked roof, and it's elevated slightly above the ground, with steps leading up to the entrance, similar to ancient greek temples.

• the front of the cabin is lined with impressive, thick columns that support a triangular pediment. these columns are doric in style, which are simple yet strong, symbolizing zeus's power and authority.

• the triangular pediment above the entrance often has carvings depicting scenes associated with zeus. these include lightning bolts, eagles, and scenes of zeus sitting on his throne. the frieze running along the top of the cabin is decorated with intricate designs of mythological scenes involving zeus.

• the roof is tiled with golden shingles that catch the light, making the cabin gleam and stand out, even from a distance. it has a weather vane shaped like a lightning bolt at the top.

cabin interior

• the doorway of the their cabin is grand and imposing, with a large wooden door inlaid with lightning bolt designs. it has a high, arched entrance that makes every camper feel small as they walk in.

• the ceiling is a high dome with a large skylight in the center. the skylight is magically enchanted to always show the sky outside, whether it's day or night. during thunderstorms, the skylight shows the storm directly above, with lightning occasionally flashing across it.

• lightning bolt patterns are carved into the walls and furniture. the bedposts, chairs, and even the table have intricate designs that resemble streaks of lightning. these designs occasionally glow with a faint blue or gold light, especially during storms.

• the interior is primarily made of white marble and stone, giving the cabin a clean, powerful, and timeless feel. the floors are polished marble, and the walls have stone columns reminiscent of ancient greek temples.

• the cabin is never completely silent. there is a low, almost imperceptible rumble of thunder that can be heard, especially during quiet moments. it feels like the power of the sky is always present.

• the cabin is illuminated by electric lanterns that mimic the look of ancient greek torches. these lanterns have a bluish-white flame that flickers like lightning. they provide a soft, but sufficient light for the entire cabin.

• each bed has dark blue bedding, with gold trim and embroidery. the pillows are soft, and the headboards are engraved with thundercloud patterns. each bed is spacious and sturdy, resembling a king's bed, giving a sense of royalty.

cabin traditions

• whenever something bad happens to one of them, they kick the statue of zeus in the balls.

• to start each day with energy, the head counselor has a morning routine where they produce a loud clap of thunder to wake everyone up. it eventually becomes a competition to see who can make the loudest or most impressive thunderclap each morning.

• they take it upon themselves to predict the weather for the day, using their natural instincts and connection to the sky. they could even post a daily weather forecast outside their cabin door, which would often be surprisingly accurate and trusted by other campers..

• on the nights when the sky is clear, they hold a tradition called "sky bridge," where they create a makeshift bridge with ropes and wooden planks, connecting the cabin to a nearby high tree or structure. they use this bridge to sit and stargaze, feeling as if they're closer to the heavens.

divider by @plutism

[pleasanttaleswithkaityb]

🎉 Sims Build Challenge: Redesign Our First House!

Wow! Even with the poll not being up for 24 hours, there’s already so much interest! Y’all are awesome! 💖 (Maybe I’ll think about making requests more often—but more on that idea later! 😉) More details about the challenge are below the cut!

The Guidelines:

I don’t want to restrict anyone’s creative process too much! Just because something isn’t our style doesn’t mean it won’t inspire us! So consider these more like guidelines to spark your creativity!!! 🌟

If someone could upload just a shell of the house (no cc) to the gallery so others (like myself) who aren’t builders can play around and join, that would be awesome and sooooooo appreciated! 🏠✨

My husband and I aren’t flippers or DIY people for major construction on a house. This means we won’t be doing any major overhauls like taking out walls or adding walls. So that would be a restriction in this building challenge. 🚫🔧

Our house definitely has a lot of potential, so feel free to renovate things! If you want an extra challenge of decorating it as is and making an older home look adorable and loved, please do so! We won’t be able to renovate all at once, so I’d love to see what y’all come up with. 🛠️❤️

Feel free to use CC or no CC! Again, I don’t want to restrict your creative process! 🖌️🖥️ I'm personally a fan of no CC homes in my personal gameplay. However, for this particular challenge go ham!

Use whatever iteration of The Sims franchise you would like to participate! I personally will be using TS4, I don't want to exclude anyone who enjoys playing the older version of the games!

Use whatever Sims 4 expansions/packs/kits/etc you have! If you use something I don’t own, well… I guess I have a reason to buy it! 😉

Use the following tags so we can find your home on TS4 gallery and here on tumblr! #PleasantTalesSimBuild #PleasantTalesChallenge and #KaityBsHouseChallenge! Please tag me on any post you make sharing your design!!

Our Home!

Wonderfully spacious and updated 3 Bedroom, 2.5 Bathroom Home with a large backyard and deck. Large living area with an open concept floor plan. The square feet of the house is 2070! 🏡✨

The Exterior - Click me for more reference photos!!!

The First Floor - Click me for more reference photos!!!

The Second Floor - Click me for more reference photos!!!

Interior Inspiration💡:

We both really like nature and natural light. We love minimalism, boho feel, clean, bright spaces with neutral or warm colors, and cozy vibes. Unique or character touches and warm lighting are a big plus! 🪴🌞 There’s a little book nook in the home that I’m very excited about! 📚 My husband is most excited about the backyard and landscaping! 🌳🌸 We have 1 dog and 2 cats! So go ham in making sure they feel the love too! Nova the dog is most excited about the dog door the house comes with (located in the kitchen)! 🐶🐱🐱 If I didn’t include any details that y’all may need or if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to message me! Unfortunately, I don’t have a floor plan of the house; otherwise, I’d include it for y’all!

Happy building and I can’t wait to see what you come up with! 🎨🛠️

[visit-new-york]

In recent years, efforts to preserve and renew the Chrysler Building have gained momentum, ensuring that this architectural gem continues to shine brightly for future generations. The ownership of the building has changed hands, with a renewed commitment to maintaining its historic significance while adapting it to modern needs.

One notable endeavor is the ongoing restoration of the building's exterior, including the meticulous cleaning and repair of its intricate ornamentation. The restoration work aims to recapture the original luster of the stainless steel spire, allowing it to once again reflect the ever-changing colors of the New York City skyline.

Additionally, efforts to make the Chrysler Building more sustainable and energy-efficient are in progress, aligning the structure with contemporary environmental standards. This commitment to sustainability ensures that the building remains not only a symbol of the past but also a model for a more sustainable future.

The Chrysler Building's enduring appeal extends far beyond its physical presence. It continues to inspire architects, artists, and enthusiasts worldwide, serving as a symbol of the limitless possibilities of human creativity and innovation. Its unique blend of Art Deco elegance and forward-thinking design is a testament to the spirit of its time and a timeless source of inspiration.

The Chrysler Building's role in the ever-evolving New York City skyline is a testament to its adaptability and resilience. It has weathered economic challenges, changing architectural trends, and the passage of time, emerging stronger and more iconic with each passing year.

The Chrysler Building, with its shimmering spire and rich history, is more than just a building; it's a living work of art that tells the story of New York City's ambition and creative spirit. It stands as a testament to the enduring allure of Art Deco design, the persistence of human ingenuity, and the timeless beauty of architectural excellence.

As you stand in the shadow of the Chrysler Building and gaze up at its gleaming spire, you can't help but be captivated by its beauty and grandeur. It's a symbol of the city's past, present, and future—a beacon that reminds us of the dreams that can be realized in the city that never sleeps. The Chrysler Building continues to grab the attention of all who encounter it, and its legacy is destined to endure for generations to come, a true jewel in the crown of the New York City skyline.

<Previous page  - Chrysler Building -  Next page>

[blu3-j]

Hey There! Can I request a Home X Reader please? Like reader is housesitting for Wally?

Knock, Knock, Knocking On My Heart

Home x Puppet! Reader

TW: Small tense scene

Hello, hello, hello, there! Oh, absolutely, you can!! I'm so excited! I've never written for Home before besides headcanons! So new, so exciting!

Oh! Also! New announcement!! I now have interwebs access at my humble abode! This will make putting these up on here much easier. In the meantime, I hope this fanfic will appease you all!

Thump!

You set the last heavy box in the trunk and closed it with a thud. You listened to the hushed voice of Wally comforting Home as you grabbed up his small bag and placed it in the backseat of his car. It was almost never used, as nobody---Wally and yourself included---really had any reason to leave the neighborhood. His car was bright red like a newly ripe apple, and so clean and shiny from not being used you had to keep from looking at many parts of the exterior so you wouldn't go momentarily blind. Today, however, was a special occasion for Wally to finally use it.

Wally had told you him and a few of the other neighbors---Barnaby, Julie, and Frank---would be leaving on a few days trip. Due to Home being alive and Wally caring deeply for his companion building, asked you to watch over them while they were gone. Wally had never specified what the trip was, only making small mention of a convention of some kind and something about fans.

"A convention about fans?" You asked him. "My, why would anyone need to hold a convention about fans? You can just buy them at the Bugdega. Are there really people that like fans that much?" Barnaby laughed, putting his paw on your shoulder, which ended up being more on most of your arm with your size difference.

"But Teacup, it's more than just fans. It's A/Cs, it's freezers, it's---" Barnaby was interrupted by Wally's monotone robotic laugh.

"Oh, Y/N, it's something you'll learn about soon. You're just not ready yet. Maybe we'll take you and show you next time what we really mean." You quirked an eyebrow at your fellow puppet friend. You could never tell what thoughts or knowledge were behind those unchanging eyes of his. Barnaby always knew, though. Plenty of times were had where you wished you could do the same. Kind of like now.

"Oh, Home, it's okay. I'll only be gone for a few days. Y/N will be here to keep you company until I get back. And some of the other neighbors will still be here, too." You turned to face Wally and patiently watched him pat Home's side as the latter continued to protest and whine through their creaks and knocks.

"Wally," You called out to him. Wally paused his hushed comforts to Home, but continued to stare up at it. You noticed in the corner of your eye Home's gaze turned to you. "Wally, it's all packed up. Ready to go whenever you want." Wally patted Home once more and upon meeting Home's gaze, nuzzled his face against Home's wall. Home creaked once more. It was hard not to notice the distinct shattering sound from somewhere inside, but Wally ignored it.

"Oh, Home," Wally cooed. "It's okay. I'll be back soon. I have to go now. Goodbye, Home. I love you." The two of you watched Wally walk away and get in his car. He adjusted the rear view mirror and his smile grew wider upon seeing the two of you. That was the last of him you saw for the next few days as he drove off into the horizon.

Feeling a knot twist up in your stuffing for the old building, you patted Home's side as they stared off where Wally once was. "It's okay, Home." You called out to the building. "He'll be back before you know it." Yet Home's longing stare never left that road. You racked through your felt head for ideas on comforting Home, until finally...

"Aha!" Your yelp finally drug Home's eyes away from the road and down to your small figure. "I know, maybe we can make something for Wally when he gets back! What do you think, Home?" You turned back up to Home and waited. They only stared back. You were beginning to become unsure of your idea working when you heard the faintest creak from the building. You quirked your eyebrow and tilted your head.

Oh, right. You can't understand Home.

It was strange to you. Everyone else in the neighborhood could understand Home to some degree, but for you---as the newest resident only having moved in a month ago---had no idea what Home was ever saying. Usually whenever Home would talk to you, another one of your neighbors would be there to translate. Wally was often the one to most often translate for you due to the two of you being best friends and Barnaby would be the one to translate when Wally wasn't there (which you recall only happening once.) You, Wally, and Barnaby were an unbreakable trio, but now there was just one of the three here: you. With no one to help you understand.

This is going to be a problem.

Home was quick to notice your expression and rolled their eyes. Faintly, the ringing of a phone was inside. Home opened the door for you, and you walked in.

The inside was painted in warm colors and sunlight, and the living room sat as it usually did. With chairs in various colors and shapes and paintings and photos of your friends, Home, and other parts of the neighborhood lining the walls. Memorabilia from the neighborhood’s past adventures sat neatly placed upon a shelf, right beside Wally’s only apple—a fake one Barnaby had secretly replaced when the old one got rotten. You had been sworn to secrecy to never tell the third person of your trio. A small canvas in the corner of your eye caught your attention. You barely noticed it hanging in the corner of a wall, but painted on it was you. Laughing away under a bright colored tree on a warm spring morning. Dirt, grass, and flowers adorned your hair, almost forming a crown upon your dainty head.

"Stay still..." Wally hummed away a tune as he painted on the canvas. You did your best to keep your form as still as it could possibly be. You were sitting under his favorite tree, admiring the sky's clouds to take your mind off of being a muse.

It was quite flattering when the shorter puppet had asked you to be as such. The others nearby encouraged you to take the offer, telling you how great of a muse you would be and how well Wally painted. It wasn't uncommon to the others for Wally to paint them from time to time, and soon enough it would be a common occurrence to you and you'd get used to it. So you did.

Wally's canvas faced towards Home and Barnaby so they could watch the two of you. Barnaby noticed how stiff you were, and decided to begin making jokes. Sarcastic jokes, puns, improv, one liners, everything he knew to get you to laugh. At first Home had scolded him---at least according to Wally---and reminded him how difficult it can be to stay still when you want to laugh. But within the next few minutes, you heard squeaks and creaks from the house and monotone laughter from Wally.

Yet you remained strong. You needed to be still for Wally's painting, after all. But Barnaby continued, pushing even further to make you laugh. It started as a sweet rush, then a bubble, then restrained giggles, until finally you couldn't take it anymore. You broke out in laughter and brought a hand up to stifle it. But---uh oh---!

"Wha---Oof!"

Your body tipped over. Your only support was the very same hand you used to cover your smile and giggles. The others broke out in full uncontrollable laughter. You felt your face go hot. There you were with your new neighbors and friends, laying on the ground from making the dumb decision of using the wrong hand, now with smudges of dirt across your clothes and face along with grass stains. Your head tipped down as your entire face began to feel warm. Home was the one to stop laughing---you assumed that's what it was---and began talking.

"Oh, you're right, Home." Wally responded after his laughter had died down. Barnaby quieted his own laughter to listen as well and things went quiet. You refused to look up at them. How could you? You just made a fool of yourself! You pushed strands of hair out of your face and began smoothing out the wrinkles in your clothing. Maybe you can brush it off like it was nothing. Maybe you can still recover and make it seem like it was on purpose so you won’t look like an idiot. Maybe---

A blue furry hand caught your eye. Barnaby and Wally stood over you. Barnaby was offering you his hand, while Wally held some cleaning wipes.

"You okay there, Teacup? Didn't fall too hard and stop working that head of yours, right?" Barnaby smiled his usual lazy goofy smile down at you. You stammered for an answer, and your face flushed even hotter. After a moment, you reached for his hand, and he pulled you up as if you were light as a feather. Before you could process what was happening, a wet wipe was smudged across your face. It tickled. Your larger friend ruffled your hair and made a few small jokes.

You couldn't help your laughter. It bubbled out of you before you could even stop it. Home was the first to laugh alongside you. Then Barnaby, and finally Wally.

It was such a sunny warm day. The perfect day to laugh with your best friends.

It wasn't uncommon for you to have ever been in Home, but it felt...empty without Wally or Barnaby by your side. Like it had a spark, but it was just a spark on the outside. With no optimism or energy or motivation behind it. It was just a shiny light.

The red phone on the side table continued to ring.

You picked up the receiver and brought it to your ear. Which of your neighbors was calling?

"Yes. I think that'd be a great idea, Y/N." A whisper slithered from the other side.

Your breath hitched. "Who..." You paused. A little twist formed in your stuffing.

It made you feel sick.

"Who is this?" Another pause, but from the other side of the line. Then that same whispering voice.

"Home." The windows turned to eyes to look down at you. In this neighborhood, despite being short, you had never felt small. This was the first time. But the feeling dissipated as soon as it formed.

"Oh, Home!" You chirped. "I didn't know you could do this! That's so cool! I can understand you now!" Your cheeks flushed warm as you noticed the stare of Home. "I'm sorry I couldn't before." Another pause.

The silence was deafening.

"It's okay. You'll learn." Yet another pause. But this time the air felt lighter. Home’s stare wasn’t boring into you as much anymore. That’s right. Home isn’t a threat to you. "What about a painting?"

You nodded and skipped over to a cabinet. Inside were Wally's paints and paintbrushes, and stored in a nearby dresser were his canvases. You quickly set two canvases up for the two of you before a thought occurred to you. So, you put the receiver back to your ear and called to Home.

"How will you be able to paint on the canvas?" There was no answer, only silence. Then a small tap on your shoulder. You bolted around, expecting some figure to be lurking behind you—but instead finding something much more peculiar. A curtain reached out to you as if it were an arm, and the end was balled up to act as a hand. You looked to the other curtain, and in its other make-shift hand was a brush. You gawked at the sight, and Home creaked in a rhythmic tone. It echoed through the walls and halls, and you heard that same whisper laughing through the phone.

"I can do so much more than you think." The voice echoed, a bit less monotone now.

And that was the start of your friendship with Home. Before you had always seen Home as another neighbor, but there was a solid wall between the two of you to keep you from getting closer. And now that wall was demolished. Over the course of the next few days, Home had taught you some basic "building language", the two of you had created many things and done so many activities together, and had conversations that lasted for hours at a time.

The first night you had stayed there, Home had reassured your fears of the dark and monsters in the halls, and talked with you about meaningless things throughout the night until you fell asleep. The second night Home had told you stories of the neighborhood and of a world long ago—long before you even existed, you were sure. The third night you fell asleep with no problems. You were safe with Home. You knew that by now.

You had found Home had many stories to tell, and was much more friendly and wonderful to get to know than you had first realized. With Home, you never had to worry about making a fool of yourself. With Home, you could be yourself completely, and they adored it. They adored you, just as much as you adored them.

By the time Wally, Barnaby, Julie, and Frank came back there was something different between the two of you. The spark that seemed to leave with the others was back stronger than ever shared between you and the colorful building. Stronger than any spark you had with everyone else. More bright, more colorful, more meaningful. You two were inseparable. Well…metaphorically speaking, that is.

Who knew a random average puppet like you would mean so much to a living building? And who knew an average building like Home would mean so much to a wonderful puppet?

[nolita-fairytale]

dating young!sirius black (remote island au)

au headcanon where you and young!sirius black flee the country to live on a remote island and raise baby harry instead of going to azkaban

part i: dating sirius black at hogwarts would include:

for most of your time at hogwarts, you had always found sirius and the rest of the marauders quite insufferable. though he’s had his eye on you since third year, he never thought he’d have a shot with the stunning ravenclaw girl at the top of their class. 

sirius is too arrogant for your liking and he’s a shameless flirt. he’s the kind of hot guy that knows he’s hot. you’ve heard the rumors: that he’s a ladies man, that he knows how to do things most of your class has only read about in books. during your fifth year, you lost count of just how many girls he snogged first term alone. not that you were counting.

he’s the life of the party and manages to pull the attention of every room he enters. this fact simultaneously intrigues you and gets under your skin.

it’s not until after the holidays during sixth year that he begins to pursue you, and you’re sure that you can resist his childish, immature, over the top attempts to charm you. boy were you wrong.

“you’re just interested in me because you’ve run out of girls in our year to snog, black.” “no, i haven’t! there are plenty others but none i want to snog as much as you, darling. come to hogsmeade with me this weekend.” “oh, i don’t think so, black. better luck next time.” “so you’re saying there’ll be a next time?” 

you only roll your eyes in response to his cheeky grin, even though you have to admit that you’re flattered.

each attempt continues to chisel away at your tough exterior. the shield you’ve tried best to build around yourself – the sirius black-resistant one – is beginning to fall. it’s not until sirius has a big fight with regulus that you find him sulking in the astronomy tower long after class is over. it doesn't take long for his handsome playboy facade to fall and when he confides in you about his family, you begin to understand why he lives with the potters. 

you spend all night together star-gazing, giggling, and keeping each other company in the astronomy tower before drifting off to sleep. when you’re caught by both of your heads of house sneaking back into the common room the next morning, it earns you both two weeks of detention and a howler from your parents that, you decide, was entirely worth it. 

you and sirius have your first kiss only a week later while polishing and dusting the various potion bottles in slughorn’s office. while trying his damndest to make you laugh, sirius ends up knocking over a vile of moonseed and as you both scramble to clean it up, you lean over and kiss him.

sirius on the other hand is absolutely smitten. gone are the days of being hogwarts’ most eligible bachelor. he’s as loyal as a dog (sorry, but i couldn’t help myself).

speaking of, you give him quite the lecture after learning about his status as an illegal and unregistered animagus starting with, ‘you could’ve gotten killed’ to ‘do you know how much trouble you’ll be in if anyone finds out’ and ending with ‘you’re such a good friend, siri.’ you can tell he gets off on breaking the rules and you can’t believe you’re falling in love with him. 

most days sirius loves to lay his head in your lap while you study, stretching his legs out on the couch of the gryffindor common room while you run your fingers through his hair. james and remus never let him live down the fact that he once took you on a picnic to the black lake, while peter admired his friend’s attempt at romance.

sirius rarely studies, yet still manages to get top marks which drives you absolutely insane. 

the rest of the marauders adore you and love having an excuse to tease sirius shamelessly over how lovesick he’s become. 

you lose your virginity to sirius the day before you leave for summer break between your sixth and seventh year. it’s filled with whispered ‘i love you’s, shy smiles, and finding out that all the rumors about him were true. 

you agree to visit a few weeks before you have to return to school and decide to leave out the fact that you’ll both be unsupervised when pitching the idea to your parents. 

you write to each other all summer long – some of which are very nsfw. he’s recently come into an inheritance from a sympathetic uncle and has managed to get his own place. sirius now has his own place and a head full of all kinds of things he wants to do with you. 

you have a hard time adjusting to being hogwarts IT couple as you enter your seventh year. you've never been one for the spotlight but sirius is worth it.

seventh year is filled with double dates with #jilly to hogsmeade, snogging in broom closets, and movie nights in the marauders dormitory using lily's projector and an old bedsheet.

sirius makes you brave and you make him happier than he ever believed he deserved. 

you’re at every quidditch game cheering him on, even when your own house is playing against gryffindor.

in the last few months of your seventh year, while lily and james can’t stop talking about marriage, sirius is shocked to discover that you don’t want to get married at all. because of this, you decide to go your separate ways after graduation, which only lasts a few months after you hook up during lily and james’ engagement party and decide that you absolutely can’t live without each other.

[writingcold]

Welcome to Chapter Seven and Eight of Best Laid Plans

A/N: A return to their friendship will mean the world to them, won’t it?  The following part is… rough.  I did place another mature label on for reasons.  Just be aware that this does include adultery and adult sexual situations.      

This is a complete fiction - totally made up.  I do not, nor will I ever know Jake or any member of GVF.  That said, this story is mine.  Please respect that.

@takenbythemadness is probably getting sick of me praising her for helping me, but she really hung in there, especially these pending parts.  I appreciate you so much, my friend! 😘

Content warnings: Language.  Alcohol.  Misogynistic character - and he really rears his head in these chapters.  Jealousy (if you squint super hard).  Infidelity, adultery.  Adult situations.  Heavy adult situations.  Sexual situations.  Regret.  Heavy, crushing arguments and angst.  Poor view of self.  

Word count: approx. 9100

Chapter 7: April, 1989: Jake POV

      “Yikes,”  I said as I stopped on the shared landing between the two buildings.  

      Amanda had just let the door of the apartment swing open and it nearly fell off its hinges.  A curse flowed between her lips as she stepped inside.  She gagged before slapping a hand across her mouth and nose.  It was retched.

      “You didn’t look up here before you made the offer?”  I asked, grimacing as my eyes took in the disaster of the space.

       “No,”  she groaned.  “I mean it was right in the agreement - as is, furnished.  I knew it was going to be gross, but this is beyond nasty.”

      My brows lifted as I remained outside.  “How long can you stay with your parents?  This might take a while to fix up.”

      She laughed as she stepped over piles of trash.  “I can do this.  Surely there’s a crew I can hire to empty it out just to get a better grip on what is happening in here.”

      I had to hand it to her, Mandy was determined.  I knew what it meant if she was determined - nothing would stop her.  I watched from a distance as she progressed - first nesting in the apartment, then in the shop below.  She set a steady pace and worked well with craftsmen to get exactly what she needed.  Before Labor Day, the exterior of her establishment was cleaned with freshly pointed mortar, new paint and glass in the windows.  She confided that her opening would be before the autumn tourist season to reap the dual purpose - the curiosity of those watching if she’d fail, and the seasonal and holiday shopping dollars that would float the business.  It was smart.

      It was not lost on me that her husband visited only twice in three months.  He was still a dick to her.  He was still loud and arrogant.  But he had only seen her for a grand total of five days in three months.  What kind of an asshole does that?  To Mandy?  Was I stepping over line noticing that?  Probably, but it was just wrong.  

     I was healing.  The wounds within were deep.  Georgia had spent the better part of the last years of our marriage trying to stay sober.  She would try and fail.  She would try again and fail again.  Each time, she fell deeper.  I could no longer care for her.  Rehab had become a game.  She learned how to hide the addiction better.  She learned how to evade me better.  And then we reached a point where we both knew the marriage was over.  It was like she had taken every last piece of good from me and refused to return any of it.  I guess that would be wrong.  She did grant me the divorce.  She did take my offer to assist her to become a ward of the state as her medical bills were a burden she could not handle.  It was the best that I could for her in the end without killing the rest of me.  I even helped her move to Detroit so as to be closer to services that were offered there that were not accessible in Frankenmuth.

     I was healing.  I did as I had for years - took care of my shop, banked studio hours, and got gig work from time to time.  It felt good to be on my own.  Josh was doing very well in his job shooting commercials and documentaries.  He would visit often, especially when the divorce was new.  Sam was killing it on the west coast.  He had some job none of us truly understood what he did, but he did it successfully.  Ronnie stayed close to home like I did.  I got to dote on my nephew and new baby niece whenever I wanted to.  I gutted the small house and remodeled everything like I was erasing her, when in truth, I was allowing myself to step to the fore.  I was allowing myself to be what I needed to be.

      When Amanda purchased the Connray building next door, it was like a reset took place.  It was like my timeline, though not totally correct, was inching closer to what could have been.  We had fallen into being good friends.  It was a part of our relationship that I had cherished deeply and missed profoundly when it was gone.  We fell into a routine, me bringing coffee and both of us standing outside watching her contractor getting to work.  She was able to move into the apartment upstairs, to which the small space was cozy and all Amanda.  Soft and gentle.  Well, maybe not so gentle.

      She launched into Martin’s one Saturday night completely off kilter in an oversized t-shirt and beat up slippers.  I had forgotten to tell my neighbor that there was going to be a band practicing on the other side of her bedroom wall.  I presented her with earplugs and a smile while begging for forgiveness.  It was a rare misstep and she knew it.  I was better about the big room schedule with her from that time on.  

      I was there in support of her opening the third week of September.  Sparrow Books and Curios was amazing.  She was literally glowing as the shop was swamped with people.  Mandy was an instant success.  It was great to see her family swell around her and fill in the gaps as her staff was learning the ropes right along with her.  Her gamble to open in the fall had paid off.  There was one notable absence and it was not my place to ask where Roger was on the biggest day of his wife’s year.  Instead of dwelling, I retreated to my own shop as work was stacked to the ceiling in preparation for the holiday concert season and sales.  

      My shop closed an hour before hers did that night.  I drifted over with Bugger and Meg to check to see if the festivities were still going.  Indeed, the shop was filled with the after work crowd.  Mandy was still buzzing around with the energy level of a child.  I wandered her space, my eye catching a few titles that I had not seen at the library yet and latched onto them.  

      “Hey,”  she sighed from behind me as I was reading the back cover of a biography on Lightnin Hopkins.  

      “Oh, the lady of the hour,”  I teased as I added to my stack.  “You’ve had a big day.”

      “It’s been great,”  she said with a nod.  She leaned towards me, her head resting on the edge of the shelf.  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired.”

      I smiled at her.  I smiled over her nearness and familiar touch.  

     “Jake?”  

     The spell was broken when I saw Tessa come into view.  The timing could not have been worse.  I tried to will her from not mentioning our pending date.  I smiled kindly, but under my skin I was screaming at the woman to just keep moving on.  

     “We’re still on for dinner Friday night?”  she asked as she barely glanced at my companion.  

      I nodded with a quick look to Mandy. “Yeah.  I’ll pick you up around seven.”

     “Lookin’ forward to it,”  she cooed as she pressed the sleeve of my coat down so as to see what I was purchasing.  “Pirate bluesman, huh?”

      I couldn’t help the amused smile that pierce my lips.  She said a ‘see you later’ as she was called to the front by a friend.  I could feel something tugging at my side and realized that Mandy was shaking softly with a pent up laugh.  I pressed the tip of my tongue to my back teeth as she could not hold the tide back any longer.

      “That wasn’t nice,”  I sighed, finally looking down at her as she leaned into my shoulder.

      “Tessa Parker?  Really?”  she laughed harder as I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling.

      “Not like there’s a ton of single ladies in this town,”  I griped as I shifted my pile of books in my arm.

      “But why her?  She still thinks that she’s head bitch cheerleader on homecoming night,”  she remarked, moving away from me.  

      I heard her repeat ‘pirate bluesman’ in a whiny, mocking manner and I had to pause as she seemed to remove herself completely at that point.  I paid for my books just as the last customers were leaving and the door was closing for the night.  Mandy waved at me to wait, so I found a place to sit and started to flip through pages without really looking at them.  

      “Do you have plans?  Can I treat you to supper?”  she asked as she was closing up the register.

      “I should be treating you for having such a fantastic day,”  I said, my eyes straying to some pieces of local art on the wall that I thought would look good in my living room.  

      “How about we split the check and eat ourselves silly on Blaine’s pie?”

      I laughed with a nod.  I knew better than to go.  Her gravity was threatening to overwhelm me already.  She thanked Robin and Mick as they finished up and headed for the door out.  I aided her with her coat before locking up and heading into the light snowflakes of the evening.  I waved at Meg in Martin’s as we passed.  She flashed a sideways grin and a raised eyebrow.  I was sure to hear about it in the morning.

      Blaine’s was busy, but we were able to slide into our booth.  I let Mandy order while I just nodded and asked for coffee.  

      “So, you survived your first day,”  I replied once our mugs were in front of us.  “How you feeling?”

       It was stupid to ask.  I could read her happiness all across her skin and see how it radiated outward in triumph.  The huge smile that broke across her mouth sent my heart pounding like a drum.  I found myself wondering if she felt it in the air between us - the pull, the attraction that was never cooled.  From moment to moment, my brain would dial my memories back to when we were younger, doing just this - shoving pie into our faces as we laughed at each other, with each other.  I found myself wondering if she knew she was more beautiful to me now than she was to me back then.  I hung onto every word, every breath, every laugh for they were precious.  

Amanda POV

      I was on my way.  Sparrow continued to draw people in for the holiday shopping season.  I was able to attract more local artisans to showcase anything from paintings to statuary and jewelry.  I was up on the ladder hanging a new landscape set from Uther Bryant when the door chimed.  I was expecting Jake with his usual coffee to share, but instead, I was having to hide my disappointment to find my husband standing with a bag in hand and a curled lip.

      “Quaint.”

       It was all he could say about my work.  Quaint.  He barely looked around at all my touches that I had worked so hard on.  He tugged on the edge of my denim skirt before I was ready and had to catch myself at the top of the ladder, my heart lurching into my throat from fear of falling.

      “I’m only here a few days,”  he said quietly, his tone harder than normal.  “You can let them take care of this nonsense.”

       By the time my foot landed on the floor, I was chewing my anger like bubblegum.  Before I could speak my mind, he had my upper arm clenched in his hand tugging me towards the back door.  I looked back, seeing that Jake watched from the window, his face heated with anger.  I gasped out a breath as I was pushed out onto the slippery sidewalk and cowed towards the stairs.

       My hand came down on the rail and I forced my tread to a stop.  “Roger!”

      “What the hell, Amanda,”  he hissed.  “Most women would think it was romantic that their husband comes home and takes them away for a day of sex.  What is wrong with you?”

       “I have a job - a business - to take care of,”  I remarked coolly, my eyes sweeping around to make sure no one was around to hear us.  

       “You have employees to run things,”  he said, trying to lean down and nuzzle my neck.  “Come on, Mandy.  I need this.  I need you.”

       Is there shame around my edges about the fact that I went up those stairs that morning and stayed with my husband?  Yeah.  My business was so new, it was expected that I would be in that shop.  The fact that he was so flippant about it bruised me.  I wanted to argue that I was working hard - just as hard as he was.  I may not be turning a profit yet, but it would come.  I was not utilizing any of his money for my own venture.  This was all mine.  Success or fail, I would claim it as my own.  It was always my plan.

      Christmas and after holiday shopping came and went.  I took the month of January to settle in, look at what was working, what wasn’t.  Roger did not come home for the holidays, opting to breeze through for a night before heading out west.  February I started putting together a calendar of events that included poetry readings, book talks and even a senior citizen book club.  March I knew it was stretching thin.  I needed the tourist season to kick in soon to keep my bills paid.  While I visited Des Moines over a long weekend, I stopped in a bookstore that offered coffee and treats.  I knew just the area to try the idea.  I was sketching plans the rest of my visit, not that my husband noticed.  He was out the door before I was for a sales conference in Las Vegas.

      At the end of the day, skating into the night, and lingering in the depths between the two, I came to a realization.  I was lonely.  I loved Sparrow.  No matter what, I would get her to fly and see success.  Roger made me feel lonely and it didn't matter if I was with him or not.  He could be commanding the room I was in, and it was like I was deflated just enough that I could fold myself up and be ignored under the corner of the couch.  It was baffling how I could feel this way in my own home.  With my spouse.

      I started reconnecting with old friends, even establishing a girl’s night where we’d get together for dinner and drinks once a month.  For our April meet up, we picked Babcia’s - the closest thing to fancy in town.  There were six of us, crowded around a round table, just taking each other in and drinking copious amounts of wine.  Our laughter centered around our families, or lack there of, and what was happening in our lives.  It was fun.  No one really asked me deep questions after I evaded a few about Roger.  It was obvious that I was not in the mood to talk about it.  Because, really?  Why would I want to talk about what was rapidly becoming a bleak wasteland across my heart?  

       We were stuffing ourselves with perogies, kielbasa, and cabbage rolls when I noticed in the far corner, Jeanette Williams sat; her pretty face all aglow from the lit table candle.  She was fiddling with her bag until a familiar presence joined her.  I watched as Jake sat across from her, his back to me.  I couldn’t help but stare.  She was so quick to laugh.  I could hear his voice mingling with hers.  Her eyes would light up as their conversation seemed to meander across subjects.  My heart constricted painfully as I tried to look away.  Tried to not acknowledge what was happening.  It was not my business.  It was not my business…  It was not my… 

      “You know what we’ve not done in ages?”  Marni was practically yelling across the table at me to get my attention.  “We should go play pool at Miller’s and get stupid drunk.”

       At first, my gut said no.  But then my brain said fuck that.  I found myself agreeing before smarter thoughts filtered through my already buzzing body.  I swallowed hard as I watched Jake reaching for Jeanette’s hand, smoothing across her knuckles with the pad of his thumb.  She blushed.  She fucking blushed as he leaned forward to talk softly to her.  We couldn’t settle the check fast enough and get out of there.

      It turned into a lousy night of pool and beer, but I danced my ass off.  In the quietness of my apartment, I decided in my drunken state, to analyze why seeing Jake with Jeanette bothered me.  It wasn’t like I didn’t know that he was dating.  He was dating often with a wide range of women.  And I didn’t care.  In the end, I was a married woman.  Jake was not my husband.  Those acrid words set my skin on fire.  How, after nearly ten years, did this man still have such a pull across my everything.  And the startling truth of the matter was that it was his mistake - his betrayal - that put us where we currently were.  I had not realized until that moment, that I had never truly accepted what had happened.  I had never allowed myself to truly mourn that he had hurt me.  He had broken my trust.  I evaded that piece and threw myself into school and work and relationship after relationship that would never fully match what I had with him.  Between my slow tears, I realized that Jeanette was a forever kind of lady.  What I saw stirring in the air between them was the innocence that I could never grasp once Jake was gone.

     Jake was still part of my daily routine.  He joined me for morning coffee every morning.  We’d talk about nothing and everything.  We’d part with smiles.  Every now and then, after the shop would close and it was late, I would hear him playing.  I would sit at one of the coffee tables and just listen to him wail through shared favorites and notes that were foreign to me.  All of it was Jake.  All of it was Jake with traces of my touch lingering against him in ways that I wondered if he still felt.

      Roger passed through town every few weeks or so.  He would show up unannounced, spend a few days telling me what I was doing wrong with my shop, and leave.  I don’t think I ever felt so thin as I did standing in his presence.  May was rounding the calendar and it was nothing but rain for days.  I took a quiet Sunday to curl up in bed for the day, shutting out the world and all of its tragedy.  I was half way through a movie I was not watching and a few pages in on a book that I was not reading when the phone rang.  When I answered, there was a stretch of silence.  It was so long that I said my ‘hello’ again.

       “Is Roger there?”  

      The feminine voice on the line was quivering with a hesitancy that struck me as odd.  “No.  This is his wife.  Can I help you?”

      Silence.  I could feel it coming across the receiver, a crisp anger and defeat at the same time that prickled against my ear.  

      “When is he planning on being there?”

      It was an oddly put question.  This was home.  Why didn’t she ask when he was going to be home?

      “Uh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t catch your name…”

      “I didn’t give you one.”

      The ire boiled through my gut at the woman’s curtness.  “Look.  I don’t know who you are, but if you are looking for Roger, I have told you that he is not home.  He will not be home for a few more days.  If you want to leave me you name and number-”

      “Really?”  The woman’s voice became shrill on the other end, the anger snapping into a frenzy.  “Okay, how about this, Amanda, you write this down carefully so as to tell Roger that the baby has been born and that Lydia, that’d be me, is waiting for him to come to his home to see his child.”

      My jaw might have dropped.  The abrupt shift in her tone made me want to vomit.

     “I know you’re a bit slow, so did you get all that?”

     I hung up.  There was nothing I could do other than stand there, robe hanging off my shoulder, jaw hanging to the floor.  Was it real?  Was that woman real?  Was what she said real?  

      When the phone rang that evening, I did not answer it.  I stared at the table, willing it to just stop.  Not even a minute passed before it started to ring again.  I don’t know how to describe what was in my body.  The emotions were dull.  The pain was nondescript.  I couldn’t figure out if I was angry.  Sad? Hurt?  Regardless, I was not ready to speak to Roger.  I was not ready to speak to myself.

Chapter 8: May, 1989: Jake POV

      When I started the work week, things were quiet.  In all honesty, things had been quiet for weeks.  But it was a good quiet.  Jeanette and I had been dating for just over a month.  She was kind.  I enjoyed her gentle company.  We were not exclusive, but at the same time, it wasn’t like a huge single’s scene, so…  But it was good.  We had spent a whole Sunday together, getting lost in window shopping in Flint and getting tangled up in my bed that left both of us satisfied.

      That Monday morning, I felt like my lungs were punctured when I brought Mandy coffee for our morning catch up.  She brushed it off when I asked if something was wrong.  She blamed it on catching some bug and being sick the day before.  But I knew.  I could feel it in the darkest parts of me that she was deeply hurt.  Her eyes were void of light and it felt like I was being flayed when I could not bring her back with a smile.

       I decided that she needed time.  She would come around eventually.  I continued bringing coffee and conversation.  I would stop in before the end of her day with some excuse to see her.  I tried to be patient, but after a week, I could bear it no more.  Sunday morning, I appeared on her doorstep, a daisy in one hand and a grocery bag in the other.  I made her pancakes while she sat watching me, her flower between us.  I found a Van Morrison LP to put on and we ate together, with me doing most of the talking.  She looked exhausted and there was nothing I could do.  It was like she was refusing to come out of her shell.

      “Mandy,”  I started as I was cleaning up the dishes.  “I don’t know what is going on.  I just know that this is not being sick.  This is not working a lot of hours, either.”

      I watched as she crumpled against herself.  Her skin was so gray and small.  The first tear edged through her lashes unchecked.  The second tear was wiped as she tried to turn away.  I moved around the table, kneeling down in front of her, my hands on hers trying to get her to look at me.

      “You’re scaring me,”  I whispered, tucking her hair behind her ears.  “Amanda.  I can’t stand to see this pain in you.  Please. Please.  Just trust me.”

       The sob that ripped through her was harder to hold than anything.  It was the same sound that had emptied from me with the loss of my son.  I knew that kind of pain too well.  I eased her to the floor with me so I could hold onto her.  I still did not know the root of her pain, but at least she was sharing it with me.  Her fingers dug into my t-shirt as I wrapped myself around her like armor.

       The first of her words were whispered, embarrassed.  She told me about the phone call.  She told me about the woman saying there was a baby.  She faltered across the word as her face broke and I pressed her against me once more as she hissed into a torrent of anger that threatened to incinerate us both.  She launched to her feet, her hands balled into fists.

       “How the fuck can he do this?”  she shouted, her anger flushed across her face.  “After what he did to me, he does this?”

       She rambled as I gained my feet.  Amanda’s fury was unleashed but my brain had latched onto one thing - what had done to her?  Was it physical?  Was it mental?  Had he harmed her beyond whatever else was going on?  My selfishness stepped in with the idea that things were not going well.  And if things were not going well, perhaps…  Goddamn.  I'm such a bastard.

       Just as soon as her storm started, she stopped.  It was like all the fight that I had once loved - all her strength and fortitude - was gone.  Evaporated.

      “Fuck.  I did this to me,”  she whispered, melting into the couch.  “I did this.  I made these choices.  I was so tired working at Franklin.  I wanted to be here.  I wanted Sparrow.  I just wanted to be fucking home.  I wanted him to be here with me.  I wanted him to love it here like I do but he doesn’t.  He never has. But I thought if I made this home, he would follow.”

      I watched as her body thinned before me.  This wasn’t Amanda Fischer.  This wasn’t the same woman that was so sure of herself; the woman that could conquer whatever she set her mind to.  She babbled on about how she should’ve listened to her husband.  She was the reason for this failing.  She was the reason why he would be gone for weeks.  She was the reason she was so… lonely.

      The word hung between us.  Something broke inside of me, be it my heart or my spirit, maybe both as she covered her face and cried.  Gently, I slid my fingers across her arms and around her back and when I felt her lean into me, held tight.  Before I knew it, I had tears of my own.  I wiped at mine before I looked into her face to wipe at her.

      “Truth is he didn’t want my babies,”  she whispered.  “He destroyed my chance so he could have babies with someone else.”

        My jaw slackened in shock.  The gurgle that escaped on my breath matched the devastation that rose off her skin.  I cupped her beautiful face and kissed at her hairline before pulling her in to cry with her.  I’m sure there were choice words falling from my mouth that were doing nothing for her.  I still did not fully understand what he had done to her, but I’m sure it was because of his selfish wishes and not hers.  The pain was so raw as she shivered in her sobbing.  Her fingers dug into the thick flannel I wore.  

      It was a sudden realization that struck me as her words finally pieced together enough of the puzzle that she had once again been thrust into a moment where her love betrayed her.  Truth danced across my tongue and in my breath, but it was not the time.  Instead I sucked in my thoughts and held her close until the tears no longer fell and her breathing was slow.

      “You must be exhausted,”  I whispered, combing through her hair with my fingers.  “How about you lay down and I’ll finish up the kitchen.”

       Her chin dropped as her eyes welled with tears once more.  “Will you stay with me, Jake?  Please?”

      Her tiny voice struck me.  I couldn’t say no.  She pulled me to the bed and let her robe fall against her back to reveal that old concert tee that she was wearing when she stormed in about the band practice.  I kicked out of my boots and slid out of my flannel to just be in my own tee and jeans.  I watched as she lay down and waited for me to pull her into my side.  I was instantly wrapped in the smell of her and it sent me back to when I was 20 and so so in love.  

       “What did he do to keep you from having babies?”  I asked as I settled in and had my eyes planted on the ceiling.

       “Had to have my appendix taken out.  He told the doctor to tie my tubes while he was in there,”  she answered.

      “Can’t that be reversed?”  I asked, hiding the anger that flared across my chest.

      “Normally, but there’s not enough of my tubes left to undo the damage,”  she whispered, her words catching in her throat.  

       I cursed as her pain leaked through my skin and into my bloodstream.  “And now…”

      “I’ve not confronted him yet,”  she said.  “He calls every night and I don’t answer.  The messages on the machine are awful.  He just screams at me and I…  I’m sure he’s with her at this point.”

      I was shaking my head.  Amanda did not deserve this.  Not again.  

     “Jake, what did I do?  I’ve tried so hard to be a good wife,”  she hiccuped.  “Was I wrong to want to do this for us?”

      “No.  Not wrong.  You are doing amazing things with Sparrow,”  I said, meaning every word.  I had known that Roger negatively criticized her work every chance he got.  It was not uncommon that her support came from sources far away from her husband.  It was not enough though.  That singular compliment.

      I started to list everything that I loved about her store from the displays to the little hand painted sparrows that she had done in her own hand across the ceiling, to the coffee bar that she would have for book clubs, not to mention the book clubs themselves, the way she interacted with her customers, new and old, the way she treated the staff like family, the way she would ensure any young visitor walked around with a lollipop or treat despite it being about books.

      “I love hearing your laugh through my wall when Mrs. Warner brings up the naughty bits of romance novels,”  I whispered into her hair.  “And then she thinks it's okay to get even more graphic because of it.  It’s hilarious.”

      Her fingers wrapped and threaded through mine.  Her skin was starting to feel warm once more.  I felt a ghost of a smile against the exposed skin of my throat.

      “She really is a dirty old lady, isn’t she?”  Mandy whispered, stifling a laugh.

      “But in the best way,”  I countered with a nod.  “I think we could all learn something from Mrs. Warner.”

      It broke loose from her chest first, flowed up her throat and erupted through her teeth, striking my ear with the truest laugh that I had heard from her since… then.  She rose up to look down at me.  Mandy’s cheeks were rosy and streaked with tears.  The green of her eyes were pools of murky liquid.  And she was beautiful.  Stunningly so beautiful that my heart froze at the sight of her so close to me once more.  I could see all of her - the hurt, the sorrow, the guilt, the brokenness, the…  I pressed my lips together as it punched me in the gut.  The loneliness was etched across her being like graffiti, painfully dripping from its jagged edges.  

      “Don’t look at me like that, Jake,”  she whispered, her body threatening to slink back into her shell.

       “Can’t help it.”

      I brought my hand up, pressing the flesh of her cheek with the pads of my fingers.  A soft cry escaped me as she leaned forward, her mouth so damn close to my own.  It was like a beacon calling me to my home and I followed it.  The blinding joy that exuded from the grace of her lips mixed with the crushing wrongness of it all.  This woman was hurting.  Why the hell would I be kissing her…  But she returned my sentiment.  She brought in my lip between hers before pushing her tongue into my mouth with the greatest of care.  I moaned at the sensation that I had thought of for a decade - craved for a whole goddamn decade.  The heat between us flared up as I pulled her closer.  The pad of my thumb brushed across the ridge of her cheekbone and I discovered she was crying once more.  But so was I.  I couldn’t help it.  It was like my very soul was screaming for every bit of her as it had been for years.  It was parched.  Devoid of her touch for so long that it could only weep in its greediness.

       Mandy slid her leg across mine and I sat us up.  I devoured her kiss like I was starving.  The soft whine that she emitted egged me on as her hands tore at the hem of my shirt.  I let her lift it.  I let her tug it over my head and watched as her eyes drifted down across my skin.  I wondered how she saw me.  Was I that different from when I was 20?  I know I had broadened out, filled out in places.  So had she.  But she had done it so beautifully and I couldn’t wait to see and love each of her curves.  

      To breathe her skin in was both healing and shattering.  To press my mouth to that tender spot beneath her ear and draw forth the softest of sighs nearly broke me.  I had dreamed of her nightly.  I had the ghost of her touch haunt my flesh when any other woman graced my body.  It was always her.  It would always be her.  I would see her shimmer across my mind as I peaked.  I would feel her deep within every damn time.  My emotions ripped and clawed and chewed their way through me.  My moral compass shattered as I looked into those eyes. I so wanted to see nothing but love.  And it was so very wrong.  It was wrong to love on her.  And I did not fucking care.

      She removed her nightshirt and we softly pressed together.  The fullness of her breasts flooded me with want.  The heat of her body made my thoughts of her slosh around and shimmy in a way that made it all okay.  We needed this.  It was easy to convince myself of that thought.  We needed this desperately.  

       Amanda pressed her palms to my face, tugging me closer into a heated kiss that blew my reservations away like the tumbling of autumn leaves.  My hands slid down that delicious curve of her side to her hips to her thigh and I realized I felt fed.  I was being fed until I would be a complete glutton on her flesh.  I pushed us forward so that she landed on her back.  I would feast upon her until neither of us could move.  She dragged her nails across my scalp as I tasted my way down to the plane of her stomach.  My teeth sank into the delicacy of her thigh.  And then I was home.  No one was like her.  I felt a frenzy begging to be released as I loved on her until she cried out in complete ecstasy.  I was harder than I had been in years.  My body was begging for release as I crawled up across her body like a predator.  Our mouths crashed together in naked want until finally, I slid into her.

      I cannot explain the sensation that enraptured me.  The tears that I felt overwhelmed me dripped down my nose to blend with hers.  She pulled me down flush against her and we both gasped as all of our bodies kissed the other.  We tumbled and rolled and pressed against and danced together and…  and…

      I watched as she slept.  My fingers could not stop dancing across her flesh, memorizing every turn, bump, twist and rimple of her.  In the stillness, I came to the realization that the love that I had had for Mandy was eternal.  It had evolved over time, sure.  But it blazed through my spirit.  I was stronger with her.  I wanted to be better for her.  Just like always.  Every step I ever wanted to take as an adult, I wanted to take with her.  I had been stunted for years.  I felt something that I had not felt and had not realized that when I was with her, I was whole.

Amanda POV

     I knew Jake was aware of something not being right.  He seemed to pick up on my shift within half of a half of a second when he walked in on Monday morning.  I struggled as he tried to pry it out of me, but I didn’t know how to voice the situation to myself, let alone to anyone else.  That night, I had left the phone on the answering machine.  Roger called four times before midnight.  By the third message he was screaming into the phone that I had no right to shut him out and I was just being a bitch about it.  Tuesday, he called the shop.  Robin answered and called me over with a wave of her hand.  When she said it was my husband, I hung up the phone.  The whole time, I kept eye contact with her and she only nodded in understanding.  If there were any more calls from him, I was pleasantly unaware.

      Wednesday night, there was a barrage of calls, all hang ups until about two in the morning where he left a weepy message of not understanding what he did wrong and I owed him an explanation.  It was the call immediately after that I decided to pick up without a hello; without words of any kind.

      “Oh thank god,”  he gasped when he heard the call connect.  “Mandy.  Mandy, come on.  Please, just talk to me.”

      “I don’t think you deserve for me to talk to you right now,”  I said quietly.  

     “Mandy, what the hell is going on?  I’m in fucking St. John’s right now and cannot-”

      I wiped at my tired face.  Of course he would make it sound like he was out of the damn country to cover his tracks.  “I hope you hug that baby real close, Roger.”

     He made a series of babbling sounds that bit and chewed at my strength.  “Baby?  What fucking baby, Amanda?”

     “Must be nice to have a child,”  I whispered.  “You’re such a fucker for taking that away.”

     “Amanda!  I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking -”

     “You see, Roger.  I don’t really believe that.  Lydia certainly doesn’t believe you don’t know what the hell is going on.”  I sucked in a breath after saying her name out loud, like it was poisoned.  

      “Who the hell is Lydia?”

      “Oh you know - Lydia.  The woman you’ve been sticking your dick in to and knocked up?  Yeah.  Her.”

      “Well, if you weren’t in that shithole town-”  The words were mumbled quietly, harsh and grating, but I heard them.  It was evidence enough.

      “I’m done.”

      I hung up.  My hands were shaking so badly that I couldn’t hold onto anything.  My heart felt like it had been wrenched open and flayed apart before me.  I somehow rested for a few hours before I put myself back together enough for the day at hand.  Jake had stopped in four times that day, his eyes full of worry.  Somehow I made it all the way to the end of day Saturday.  Roger did not call again.  For that I was thankful.

      When Jake landed at my doorstep on Sunday morning, I knew he could see I was bleeding out.  I knew I could not deny him any longer.  The moment he asked for me to trust him, I handed myself over so damn fast.  It scared me at the speed that I was willing to just give him my wounded heart to hold and care for.  The moment I kissed him was like a tearing of myself in two to shed all the hurt, all the grizzled pain and scar tissue that had been shoved into my skin over the course of years.  It was a return to a time of innocence that I had longed for with every ounce that made up me.  

       It was in the dark morning hours Monday when I stirred to find him tracing circles against my hip, watching over me like a stalwart guardian.  This man.  This man was Jacob Kiszka and I felt so terribly cherished as he leaned in to kiss my forehead, followed by my cheeks and just beneath my ear.  I had imagined what sex would be like now that he was a man and if I’d be goddamn it was better than anything I could ever imagine.  My whole body ached with need and want and desire and he tended to each and every silent demand as if he just knew where to touch, where to kiss, where to taste.  Those dark assed eyes just engulfed me in flame as he studied me and my body.

      I watched as he nudged and guided me to be over him, lowering myself upon him so that he nestled deep within me with a reverent breath.  

     “You’re so beautiful,”  he whispered, tracing his fingers up and down my thighs as I leaned backwards and rolled my hips against him.  “I cannot tell you how I’ve dreamed… fuck…  I’ve wanted this…  Amanda.”

      I spread both my hands across the sturdiness of his chest so as to balance myself better.  I’d be a damn liar if I said he hadn’t changed.  He was soft in all the right places, but the strength of his body knocked me for a loop as I let my hands skate across the miles of Jake that was laid out before me.  He lifted my hips to force me to fall forward, nearly knocking my chin into his face.  I let out a soft laugh as he caught my lips with his own.  

     I felt as if all the scaring, all the loneliness, all the heat of my anger was being swept up and incinerated to form a new armor that I would need to survive whatever was to come next.  He was kissing me so deeply that I fought for air until finally I brought myself up just high enough to look at him - really look at him.  The fine crinkles that kissed at the edges of his eyes, the way his mouth searched for mine.  The way his hands gripped at my hips to hold me steady as he slid so slowly, so deeply into me as to hit every ripple  within and stir a pleasure that I had not felt in a long, long time.  He wrapped his arms across my shoulders and was quick to roll us so that he was on top.  His hair fell in a curtain around me, tickling my nose and my cheek.  He heaved himself up, tossing his head back to expose the expanse of his neck.  I thrust forward, unable to keep my mouth from the delicate heat of his skin.  I loved this form - this body that held me so tightly, that blended us together until I did not quite understand where I stopped and he started.

      I loved this man.

      I loved this man… still.

      I felt the sob bubble up from my chest as the realization struck me.  He touched me, held me, moved with me as if he loved me as well.  I reached up, landing my hand against his face to recapture his attention.  Those eyes turned to me and I could see so clearly all the love that I had longed for was still there - shining like treasure.

      “Jake…”

      His name fell from my mouth like a prayer.  His eyes closed for a long time, so long that I wasn’t sure if he would look at me again.

      “I know,”  he whispered, finally opening his eyes once more before he leaned in to kiss my mouth again.  “I know.”

      He made love to me.  He treated me like all of the distance that had been present for so very long, never existed.  He brought me to an edge where I thought all thought, all of my human was seeping into the bed beneath me.  I didn’t think I could get any higher, and then he pushed me along, pressing out bodies so tenderly, so exquisitely that my orgasm would rupture only to rebuild in moments.  He fed on my breasts while I nearly lost myself in the euphoria that he offered.  When he came, he latched his eyes onto mine as if watching me unravel with him was the dearest gift I could ever give to him.  Or perhaps, it was a way to memorize the moment, since we both were unaware how long we could hold onto this affair.  

      I had seven days.  I had seven days where I felt like Jake rebuilt me through warmth, touch, love and togetherness.  I was able to pretend that I was his girl, and he was my Jake.  I couldn’t shout it from the rooftops, or broadcast it at all in public, but it was what it needed to be.  He could come to me at night, or I would walk the few blocks to his house after work.  It was the freest that I had felt in a decade, but also the most hidden, the most chained.

     It was the Sunday before Memorial Day weekend that Jake had to make an appearance at his family supper table.  I knew I should not have answered the call.  Perhaps it was my spirit trying to be done with the pain of what was and move to what was next.  But, I picked up the call from Roger.  I talked very little.  He tried to explain.  He tried to lie.

      “I will be there on Thursday,”  he had said, his tone pleading.

      “I don’t want you here,”  I whispered.

      “You can’t tell me no, Amanda.  I’m your husband.”

      “You gave up that right when you thought you could have a family with another woman.”

      “It’s not like that.”

      “Bull shit.”

      “You already fucking that guy, aren’t you?”

      I did not grace that question with an answer but it struck me hard.  I told him that I did not want to see him before I hung up but I knew – I knew deep down that he was going to come to town expecting me to eat up his lies and forgive his trespasses.  He would tell me that I was the one he married.  I never thought that I would feel so ultimately strong because of the love that Jake had placed within my spirit, and so utterly defenseless because of Roger’s selfishness and total disregard for me as a whole.  A hard conclusion struck me upside the head and knocked every bit of stuffing out of my body.  Roger was coming to find proof of my infidelity.  He was coming to find fault with me that he could hold up to deflect from his own sins.

         I went to Jake that night, wrapped in so much pain that I swear I was going to expire on his doorstep.  He tugged me in, but I would not allow him to kiss my lips.  I would not allow him to touch my skin.  I nearly shattered as I watched him catch on to what was happening.  It was like watching a candle being slowly snuffed out, the immediate will to survive dancing and engulfing the wick for air to consume, and the panic when there was no oxygen to be had.   The air between us was so very different from what it had been that morning - full of golden elixir and palpable love with intentional touches that whispered and cooed.

      “No,”  he whispered as I wrapped my arms around myself.  “Please, no.”

      “He’s coming and I can’t stop him, Jake,”  I said, my voice fragmented into chips of tones that sounded nothing like me. 

     Jake’s expression was crushed, eyes pleading with me.  “Amanda.  Leave him.”

     My stomach churned with his words and the bitterness that was to come.  A toxic soup of confusion and desire poisoned my brain.  The sudden fury that landed in Jake’s eyes pushed me to a limit I had not been aware of.  His body went rigid as he covered his face.  As he moved from me, I felt his hard pull of gravity threatening to force me to drag me along with the weight of his own emotions.

      “I am done grieving for what could have been,”  he raged, his voice choppy with rasp and tears.  “I am ready to mourn whatever the fuck has been between us for all these years.  I am ready for what should be, Amanda.  I’m ready for us to be here, now, together.”

      “I can’t do it,”  I whispered, my mouth quivered around the words as bile tickled my throat.  “I can’t leave him because of this.  I can’t leave him because of us.”

     “Why? The prick has gone out of his way to break every vow he ever made to you.  He’s hurtful to you.  He has…  fuck!”  he shouted as I flinched out a sob.  He softened, blowing out a strangled breath.  “You don’t understand - I see what he has done to you.  He’s left his marks on you.  He’s left scars.”

     Jake’s face contorted with all that he felt that had long stayed dormant.  I watched as he quietly cried through all of his anger and all of his grief.  I had to fight myself from reaching out to provide comfort.  My spirit quaked against me, splintering and twisted until I was trembling with pain.  What he was asking was wrong.  I couldn’t leave Roger to be with Jake.  What we had done was wrong - shattering our restraint and loving each other - that was what was wrong.  Consequences for women who committed infidelity were harsher.  Did he not understand that?

       “Get the fuck out of your head,”  he seethed as he inched back around, closing the space between us.  “Mandy - please.” 

     “There is no ‘please’, Jake.  There is no…”  I began to shake as my emotions choked and stabbed their vicious venom within me.  “I can’t keep on like this.  It’s not just his marks on me, but yours.  Ours.”

      The fragile breath that escaped me crashed against him like the wake of an ocean liner.  His body seemed to fold against him over the realization.  The hurt etched upon his eyes scorched my gut.  He fell back a few steps as realization of what was happening curtained over him.

      “I can’t,”  I continued through hiccups of cries.  “I’m a married woman.  I’m just as bad as he is by sleeping with you, Jake.  I’m just as much an adulterer as he is.  I’ve broken every vow - same as him.  I am not a good person.  Not any more.  I’m sure as shit not the girl who I was when you first loved me.  I’ll never be her.  Not ever.”  

      My very being splintered and my heart shattered as he fell to sitting onto the couch.  The defeat that rode out on his groan bit into my thoughts, threatening to become my waking nightmare.  I loathed every inch of myself as I shook my head and found a footing that carried me further away.

      “Please don’t,”  he gasped, his body an ugly, cloying weight around him.  “I can’t go back to how it was before.  I can’t watch you-”

      “I can’t be yours, Jake,”  I said as my throat constricted against me, the words were raspy and crushed as they escaped.  Every ounce of my flesh fought against me.  “I can’t be yours.  It’s not right.”

      I startled as he launched his frame from the couch at me, wrapping himself around my body, his mouth against mine.  We fell apart in each other's arms.  We shook and cried and kissed and shared breath as the moment drew to a point of no return.  

      “Why can’t I ever be enough?”  he whispered as we stilled in each other’s embrace.  “Why can’t I ever just love you?”

       I absorbed every scrap of heat I could as he held firm.  I breathed in his skin, memorized the contours that made him my Jake.  I made myself look into the mirrored pain that I was sure was plain on my own features and committed each line, each jagged gasp to memory.  This was my Jacob.  My man.  I had broken him as he had broken me.  I had clawed out the time that allowed us to soar over days and weeks in a love that was cursed and was never meant to be.  I would have his memory to shield me from when my husband would return.  I would conjure the lust and the longing and the joy and the delicate bits of forbidden touches and pretend that I was present in the world around me.   I despised that I blamed him for the failing of our youth, but I loathed myself more for the destruction that we equally brought to our verboten bed.  

      “I love you,”  I said through her tears.  “It’s always been you.”

      I pressed my lips to his once more.  Every nerve in my body vibrated like a hard strummed chord.  His fingers dug into me as he tried to hold me close.  I was the first to let go, and though his expression conveyed that he wanted to fight, he let me go.  Without a shred of reluctance, I turned and walked out his front door into the void of the night.

Breathe.  I’ll see you next Wednesday.  💚  

I have a tag list if you would like to join, or you can just reply to this or message me.

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @gretavanbitches @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @loveisonaroll @starcatcherc @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit @sinarainbows @livkiszka @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gracev0609 @gretavangroupie @fleet-of-fiction @edgingthedarkness @joniizzle-blog

[oohoohnooboo]

Lot Download - Simney's Flophouse

Need a cheap place to stay while you get back on your feet? Look no further than Simney's Flophouse! (Yes, this is like the 5th one I've built...)

Amenities/Features

This flophouse sits on a 30x20 lot and costs §37,421. I tried to keep the price relatively cheap, especially for the players like me who play with a neighborhood treasury/tax system. This lot comes in two versions: apartment and residential. On the apartment lot, rent is estimated to be around §65-§95.

This lot includes:

4 cheap rooms (2 can fit a double bed)

Communal bathroom with 2 showers and 2 stalls

Commons area with TV, couches, and a desk

Lobby with a computer

Sizeable kitchen with cafeteria worker (optional)

Outdoor seating area

Requirements

CC - The only thing you’ll need for this lot to look exactly as it does above is the Life Stories build set found here. Without this set, you’ll only need to replace the exterior wall coverings.

Packs - I tried to stick with mostly the base game and University when building this lot. Obviously, Apartment Life will be required for the apartment lot.

Recommendations

Shiny Tyme NPC Everywhere Patch - An override patch to the Shyne Tyme dorm cooktop. Whatever lot type you place this in, it will get an NPC cook working just like they do on dorm lots.

Download (Residential Lot)

Download (Apartment Lot)

This lot was built in an empty Sims 2 game and cleaned with the Lot Compressor. I recommend you install this lot with the Clean Installer.

[antisocialbunnysims]

the Joubert family in season 2 of my youtube series lives in this big imposing mansion that I thought someone else might appreciate for halloween, so here it is for download! I based the whole exterior off of a real house that I found on google images called the Castle House!

I'm so happy with how it turned out..the roofs were so hard...uh don't look too closely at them or it all starts to look a little wonky lmao. You can see more pics of this amazing irl house at this link.

More info, floorplan and download under the cut!!

Here's the floorplan and a daytime shot of the front/backyard. The version of the house in my lot bin was apparently just a shell, so I quickly from memory tried to put walls where they are in my series house. There is a little secret attic room on the top floor that is perfect for a Jane Eyre type situation...or just a nice cozy attic room!

Build custom content is included so install with clean installer. Unless you rebuild stuff, you will need a ladder to access the top room (included)! I used a lot of maxis build content (for me), but I have basically every cluedo build default so you will want to download those if you want it to look identical!

Build content:

@shastakiss cluedo recolors of Shakeshafts' Lakeside Build set

Numenor recolorable modular stairs

Marvine's ladder with custom animations

@kayleigh-83 modern shingles in anna's colors

veranka 3t2 old mill ivy

DOWNLOAD ! no sims have ever lived on this lot, + lot cleaned with Chris Hatch's lot cleaner

[hirocimacruiser]

FC3S

T04E turbine equipped FC is fully tuned & fully certified

garage Carrera

3-29-15 Wakagi, Itabashi-ku, Tokyo 147 03-5398-1565

Now is the time to buy FC3S. There are many cars available in the market and it is easy to choose. If you miss this period, the rest will be good.

There will only be less and less, and prices will go up accordingly. This garage Carrera FC3S has been properly tuned, and the price is 1.55 million yen. For the tune menu, I replaced the turbine with T04E , added 7200x2 to the original computer, and controlled the fuel with AIC. The intercooler is an Amemiya two-layer type, the waste gate is a TRUST racing type, and the muffler is a 90 mid-range sports type.

Although it is a 1st year model, this is all there is to it.

It's been done, fully certified, and 1.55 million yen is cheap. Surprisingly, the mileage is only 48,000km, so I'm sure the engine has a lot more to offer. The only exterior features include Amemiya's Type 1 rear spoiler and Yours' aero mirror. The suspension has Esprit. It has a casual appearance and gives off an atmosphere dedicated to driving. In fact, seeing that the 5-point system was installed in the roll cage, the previous owner must have been very picky about running. The FC's body rigidity was low, especially in this part with the large hatch. This twisting of the body is the reason why even if you keep your feet steady, you still feel ambiguous near the limit. The purpose of building a roll cage is to increase safety in the event of a fall, as well as increase body rigidity. Even a 5-point system is quite effective. Driving on the circuit in the same condition as purchased

I think I can make a good time If you look at the actual 5-point system installed in the roll

PIC CAPTIONS

●Neatly laid out white meters are lined up inside the glove box. The interior is so clean that it's hard to believe it's a very old FC.

●Equipped with a 5-point roll cage. The increased rigidity around the rear makes suspension settings easier. It seems to be a must-have item for younger model FCs.

●The T04E turbine does not have peaky output characteristics, so it is easy to handle. The low sound quality that comes from the sports muffler gives off an atmosphere of great power.

INFO BOX

Savannah RX-7

1999 model inspected December 8th

Mileage 48,000km 1,550,000 yen

Tune data: T04E Turbine

Trust Racing wastegate

Amemiya 2-layer intercooler

Original computer

AIC

additional injector 720cc×2 EVC

OS twin

Blow-off valve

Tower bar

Earl's Oil cooler

Yours aero mirror

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1970 Chrysler 300 Hurst

One of the great unknowns about the 1970 Chrysler 300 Hurst is exactly how many cars were built. Estimates put the total as low as 485, and as high as 502 cars. Regardless of what the figure actually is, the car itself is a pretty special piece of machinery.

The 300 Hurst is a giant of a car at 19′ in length. All of the Hursts rolled off the production line finished in Spinnaker White. The cars were then shipped to the Hurst factory in Warminster, Pennsylvania, where a substantial transformation was performed. The first change to be made was the removal of the standard Chrysler steel hood skin, which was replaced with a fiberglass unit. This featured a decorative hood scoop and the obligatory set of recessed hood locks. The deck lid was also removed, and once again, a fiberglass replacement, complete with a spoiler integrated with the rear quarter panels, was also installed. The White paintwork was complimented by the addition of Satin Tan highlights and contrasting pinstripes, and the wheels were adorned with the same Satin Tan color in the centers. This Hurst is a clean car, with a small area of rust visible in the lower section of the driver’s side front fender, and surface corrosion present on the car’s underside. The Spinnaker White paint appears to be in good condition, but there has been some deterioration of the Satin Tan paint on both the hood and the deck lid. The exterior trim and chrome all look good, while the tinted glass is close to perfect.

The 300 Hurst was a premium car at a premium price, so naturally, it required a premium interior. In this case, seat upholstery was available in a single type and color. Continuing the exterior theme, the color is Saddle Tan, and the material is leather. The plush front seats are not standard 300 items but have been pilfered from the Imperial parts bin. While the original intention was for a Hurst shifter to be part of the interior features, this is something that never eventuated. The interior of this Hurst is close to perfect, with a single discolored spot on the dash pad being the most obvious fault. The rest of it presents in virtually as-new condition, and as befits a luxury car, it is loaded with luxury touches. These include air conditioning, power windows, six-way power seats, cruise control, a remote trunk release, and I think that there also might be an 8-track player hanging under the dash.

The 300 Hurst was the biggest of the muscle cars, and as such, it needed a big motor to get it moving. In this case, it is the TNT 440 engine, pumping out 375hp. The Hurst also features a 727 TorqueFlite transmission, a 3.23 rear end, power steering, power brakes, heavy-duty rear springs and front torsion bars, and sway bars. The exhaust was a full dual system, ending in quad tips. This Hurst hasn’t seen a lot of recent use, and documentation confirms that between 1986 and 2019, it managed to accumulate a grand total of 20 miles! Since being removed from its climate-controlled storage, it has undergone a meticulous mechanical check and recommissioning, and it is now said to run and drive perfectly. The owner does suggest that while the tires look good, they are pretty olds, and replacing them might be a good idea. He also says that the Hurst may need mufflers fairly soon. The car does come with a fair collection of documentation, including the original Build Sheet and Window Sticker, a pristine Certi-Card, Owner’s Manual, as well as dealer paperwork and other assorted items.

While there has always been some question surrounding the build totals for the 1970 300 Hurst, one thing is certain, and that is that there are less than 300 cars in existence today. Pristine examples can fetch sums in excess of $30,000, and even a rough example in need of restoration can still sell for anywhere around $13,000. This one doesn’t need a major restoration, but it does require some cosmetic work. I’m not sure where bidding is eventually going to go with this one, but I would suspect that it will be somewhere around the low to mid $20,000 mark. Even at that price, it probably wouldn’t be a bad buy.

[lgcminsoo]

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴 || 𝙷𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈 || 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚁 || 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙸'𝙻𝙻 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙿𝙻𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶.

"Being alive means embracing the highs and lows, the joy and pain, for it's through these experiences that we truly come to understand the depth and richness of life."

𝙵𝚄𝙻𝙻 𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴 : kang minsoo

𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁 / 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚂 / 𝚂𝙴𝚇𝚄𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 : cis ― male , he / him , demisexual / demiromantic

𝚉𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙲 / 𝙰𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙽𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 : libra sun , cancer moon , capricorn rising / chaotic neutral

𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙸𝚃𝚂 : confident, assertive, tenacious, determined, rebellious, manipulative, introspective, vulnerable, creative, passionate.

𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴𝚂 / 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝙰𝚃𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙱𝚄𝚃𝙴𝚂 :

tested IQ of 132

stands at an average height of around 5 feet 9 inches

he has a lean and athletic build, with well-defined muscles from his training and dance practices.

minsoo has naturally dark brown hair, which he often styles in a trendy and versatile manner. He might experiment with various hairstyles and colors, from a sleek undercut to tousled waves, depending on his mood and the occasion.

his eyes are a captivating shade of deep brown, often reflecting his emotions with intensity and clarity.

minsoo possesses sharp and angular facial features, including high cheekbones, a defined jawline, and a straight nose. His expressive eyes and full lips add to his charm and allure.

his skin is naturally fair and smooth, with a healthy glow from his active lifestyle and skincare regimen.

minsoo has a distinctive sense of style, often opting for edgy and fashionable clothing that reflects his bold personality. He might be seen rocking streetwear-inspired outfits, featuring statement pieces like graphic tees, leather jackets, and stylish sneakers. However, he also knows how to clean up well for formal events, effortlessly pulling off tailored suits with confidence and flair.

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃 : (tw-bullying & arrest)

despite his confident exterior, Minsoo harbors guilt over his past as a bully during his early teenage years. He bullied classmates out of insecurity and a desire to fit in, but he deeply regrets his actions and has worked hard to make amends.

at the age of 15 he was arrested for vandalism, an incident he keeps hidden from most people. He was caught spray-painting graffiti on public property with a group of friends and was caught fleeing the scene.

minsoo's strained relationship with his mother weighs heavily on him. Despite his confident demeanor, he feels a deep sense of abandonment from her decision to prioritize her career over her family, leading to a lingering resentment.

behind his assertive facade lies a deep-seated fear of failure and inadequacy. he grapples with self-doubt, questioning whether he's truly capable of achieving his dreams and living up to the expectations he's set for himself.

𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂 :

Rivalry Turned Friendship: a fellow trainee or performer who Minsoo is threatened by and initially views as a rival, but discovers they have more in common than he initially thought.

Friendship Betrayal: Minsoo's ambitious nature led him down a treacherous path and he betrays/betrayed a close friend.

Provocateur: he derives a twisted sense of enjoyment from getting under your muse's skin. with a biting word or insult he relishes in the challenge of unraveling their composure.

Shadowed Rivalry: Minsoo suffers from resentment and jealous towards your muse who he feels overshadowed by. Their rising star is eclipsing his own and he can't hide his avarice.

Past Loves: due to a case of the roaming eyes, minsoo's relationships never end well. Your muse is one the many people charmed by his smile only to be betrayed by the notorious "Misbehaving Minsoo".

[wishing-stones]

your concept of nightmares castle is super interesting! are there any other tidbits we haven't seen yet? or is that a spoiler?

Oh hey! Yeah, this is a good one. It's gonna be long, but this is gonna be good. And lore heavy.

Nightmare's entire castle is in a sort of pocket dimension-- not its own AU, its own little area in the multiverse that he can more-or-less control. Dream has a very similar pocket dimension, but his is a little cottage with a view of rolling hills and lots of flowers where it's always golden hour.

Nightmare's castle sits atop a rocky crag of a mountain that is above preceptory cloud level. It's always clear out, with the only clouds visible being cirrus and similar. Sometimes, the tops of thunderstorms pass by, giving the castle some ambiance, but there is never any lightning or rain.

There isn't really a daylight cycle, either. It is a little brighter in the "daytime," lightening into blue hour, and then gets a little purpley at dusk, and pinkish at dawn.

This doesn't really effect the vegetation any, since they mostly subsist off ambient magic rather than photosynthesis. They similarly do not need watering. (There's a bit of an exception for things that aren't part of the realm itself-- Nightmare's garden needs tending and watering, but they adapt to absorbing ambient magic in place of sunlight.) Parts of the mountain are forested, and grade more gently than some of the sheer drops that surround the castle-- the training pitch we've seen a lot of in recent chapters is naturally boxed in by part of the mountain, and has a small thicket on its other side. There's some bushes and other plants there as well-- It's not maintained, and the only paths through it are those that have been forced.

While the castle and its grounds are enormous, the mountain itself takes up most of the domain. There's about of mile of forest in all directions from the base of the mountain, but wandering off into it will either a. get you lost in the void, if you're not lucky b. get turned back around toward the castle, even if you were walking away from it c. 'fall' off the edge into a random AU. Sucks to suck.

The mountain is active, but because monsters in general are very good at harnessing geothermal energy, that's how he powers the whole thing. There's a core-like device inside the mountain that provides the castle with an endless supply of clean energy. It also provides almost all of the hot water used in the castle as well (which is why I had Ren note that the water smelled faintly sulphuric very early on.)

It has four wings, so from above, it sort of looks like a big plus sign. Some wings are larger than others, and the south wing has the tallest towers. It has ramparts as well, but no one's gone out on them in R&R. Kicking myself that I didn't utilize them LOL

I think? I said everyone has their rooms in the east wing? And the stars occupy the north wing right now. The west wing is where the gym, rec room, and pool/sauna are, the ballroom takes up a good part of the south wing, the entrance is on the first floor of the east wing, the dining hall is dead center, with the kitchens below it, the drawing room is west of the entrance, and on the second story of the main building is Nightmare's throne room and adjoining war room. The lab is beneath the western wing, and the dungeons are beneath the south wing, and at the top the tower IN the south wing is an observatory. Nightmare's office is near the east wing in the main hub, on the top floor.

The exterior is very gothic looking, made of dark stone with some gargoyles and the like, and along the longer wings (west/east) it has flying buttresses.

Other rooms that exist that haven't been shown/mentioned yet: -A chapel, which is mostly just there for The Aesthetic ✨ (There were a few of them in blueprints that Nightmare gathered to draft his own, so he included it.) It has no specified deity, but one of the stained glass windows is very clearly a depiction of the tree of emotions -A library, which briefly got mentioned, but it's enormous. It's towards the beginning of the west wing. -A laundry room, which clearly began life as a servant's quarters, but was repurposed when Nightmare built the place. There's dumbwaiter access to it, so it was a very obvious choice -An armory in the west wing that sees almost no use, since they tend to keep their weapons on their person, if they use them. It's mostly a showcase of fancy weapons and armor, but there's a few 'trophies' from battles they fought or particularly tough opponents they've taken down.

I think that about covers it! I've described the interior in great detail, but it's all black-and-gold rococo with touches of maroon in drapes and runners.

[archinform]

The Field Building, Chicago

by Roger Jones

June 19, 2024

Two views of the Field Building, c. 1930

The field building, 135 S. LaSalle St., Chicago, was built 1928 - 1934, and designed by Graham, Anderson, Probst & White. Built by the estate of department store founder Marshall Field, it was the last major office building completed prior to a two-decade construction hiatus caused by the Great Depression and World War II. Its site formerly was occupied by the Home Insurance Building (1884), designed by William Le Baron Jenney.

Built at a cost of $12 million, the building featured 43 floors, and height of 163.1 m / 535 ft, and a surface of 111 484 m² / 1 200 000 ft. upon completion. It had entrances on both Lasalle and Clark Streets. The Field Building has also been known as the LaSalle National Bank Building, or Bank of America Building.

The building also featured 42 high-speed elevators, advanced technology at the time. Other innovations included polished aluminum window frames, radiant heat, dual elevators sharing one shaft, and pure drinking water delivered to drinking fountains in each office. The first and second floors were connected by escalators.

The building was designated a Chicago Landmark on February 9, 1994.

135 S. LaSalle, Solomon Cordwell Buenz

A distinctive moderne structure, the building's stripped-down design features smooth surfaces, limited ornament, and clean lines.

Straight vertical lines give the building a look as new as 1959. The main exterior material is limestone. The [lower] entrances made extensive use of white bronze and black granite, also with a complete lack of extraneous detail. As far as materials and craftsmanship are concerned, another Field building may never be built, architects say. The cost would be prohibitive. Three kinds of marble were used in the vast lobby arcade and corridors - white, from Vermont; a green variety, from Italy; and a delicately toned tan marble, also from Italy. The Field building took the entire output of the quarry producing the tan marble. It is irreplaceable, said Palmer. All the marble was cut and laid so that the patterns match from one slab to another. Source: Fuller, Ernest, "Famous Chicago Buildings," Chicago Tribune, January 3, 1959

Home Insurance Building, 1885 (demolished 1931), William Le Baron Jenney, architect

Plaque in the Field Building lobby

Postcard view

Photos from the Ryerson and Burnham Libraries, Art Institute of Chicago

Photos from the Hedrich-Blessing Archive, Chicago History Museum

View of lobby, showing "bookend" tan marble above elevator doors

Field Building ground floor plan.

My photographs:

Graham, Anderson, Probst & White

The Chicago firm of Graham, Anderson, Probst & White was founded in 1912 originally as Graham, Burnham & Co., as the successor tot the D.H. Burnham Company. In 1917, the Burnhams left the firm, and Graham and the others, (William) Pierce Anderson, Edward Mathias Probst, and Howard Judson White formed the subsequent firm.

The firm got the majority of the big commissions from 1912 to 1936, including iconic buildings such as the Wrigley Building, Merchandise Mart, Field Museum, Shedd Aquarium, Civic Opera House, and the old main U. S. Post Office. They also designed built the Terminal Tower in Cleveland and Federal Reserve Bank in Kansas City.

It was the largest architectural firm under one roof during the first half of the twentieth century, its closest rival being the firm of Holabird and Root.

Architectural historian Carl Condit commented on the Field Building: "Graham, Anderson, Probst, and White turned their backs once and for all on the past and produced a Sullivanesque skyscraper stripped down to essentials, a dense array of uniform vertical limestone bands, topped by a horizontal spandrel that simply marks the outer face of the parapet at the roof."

Major works by the firm in Chicago: the Wrigley Building, Merchandise Mart, Civic Opera House, Union Station, and Field Museum

Sources:

Online:

Chicagology: Field Building

Chicago Landmarks

Lasalle Reimagined

Chicago History Museum images

YouTube: Why Chicago razed the first skyscraper / The Field Building

Architecture and planning of Graham, Anderson, Probst, and White, 1912-1936 : transforming tradition, by Chappell, Sally Anderson. Chicago : University of Chicago Press, 1992. Available on Internet Archive

Journals:

Field Building, Chicago Ill. Architectural record. 1932 Apr., v. 71, p. 277. Ill 

The sky's the limit: high-rise history in Chicago. Inland Architect. 1990 Jan.-Feb., v.34, no.1, p.60-[63]. Photos

The Field building, Chicago's newest skyscraper. Architectural Record. 1934 Aug., v. 76, p. 120-128. ill, plans