#and carpeting railings interior

[mikellis]

Bedroom Master (Orange County)

[vintagehomecollection]

100 Designers' Favorite Rooms, 1994

[scodeeyodee]

Carpet Stairs & Railings CC

NOW PUBLIC!!

Carpet stairs (10 Swatches)

Stair Railings

Deco Stair Rails (Type 1&2)

Download: Patreon

[museumofbuildings]

455 Ash St., Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. Built 1942.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I don't live far from Tenafly, NJ, and I'm not that familiar with it, but it runs the gamut from inexpensive homes to those in the millions. This is an historic Swiss Chalet, but it looks like a Tudor to me, and it's clearly been remodeled b/c the interior is a real mash-up. It has 6bds, 7ba, and they're asking $1.95M.

Ironically, the original owner of the house was a famous architect. He must be amused.

We begin in the large entrance hall with a typically Tudor staircase and rail that they painted white.

This large empty-ish sitting room is directly off the entrance hall.

I see some pocket doors and this room looks cement-y and has weird tufted walls.

This sitting room is open to the dining room.

Mirror wainscoting and more tufted walls.

This looks like a sun room with a coffered ceiling and fleur-de-lis stenciled on the wall to match the pattern in the carpet.

The color of the kitchen ceiling matches the granite counters. There's also a spiral staircase in here. You have to be neat, b/c the upper cabinets have glass fronts.

They don't show where it goes.

Here's a small office area.

It's unclear where this floor is located, it's just in the middle of the jumbled pics. Maybe it's a bathroom.

I don't know where these spiral stairs are, but notice how the railings change colors.

They come up to this room and continue on up.

Back at the main stairs, I think we're going to the bedrooms.

The principal bd. has a tray ceiling with a massive chandelier and it looks like they made the fake fireplace themselves.

Huge sink in the en-suite and there's a walk-in closet back there.

A child's room has a platform that looks like it could only accommodate a twin bed.

There's a room next to it that has a weird window.

This must be the origin of the color changing spiral stairs. It's the home theater.

Sort of Octangular room with seating in a corner of the theater. Two people only get a step with backrest bed pillows.

There's also a sauna.

Here's a patio with a grill.

The grounds are impeccably maintained.

The lot is 3/4 acre.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/20-Forest-Rd-Tenafly-NJ-07670/38044501_zpid/?

[iceman-soup]

request!

sorry if you've done this already, but what would Ghost and Soap's first leave together look like? could be sfw or nsfw, everything is up to you

yes yes yesss this is sfw because my descriptive brain took over, also autistic ghost supremacy 🫶🫶

ghost x soap

Simon wasn't ready to meet Johnny's family yet. Hell, they'd only been dating five or so months before deciding to stick with each other on leave, and by that point it was far too stressful and overwhelming to think about meeting a whole bunch of new people to mask around and make good impressions. Ghost needed the time off to re-regulate, and honestly, Soap wasn't up to introducing a boyfriend he had barely warned his mother about beforehand.

So instead the two taxi'd over to Manchester from the airport, arriving at a tiny, cheap flat with even cheaper security cameras dotted on each outside wall and above the front door. "Enough of a deterrent, even if half don't work," explains Simon, seeing Johnny looking around curiously. He unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch, baited breath for a couple of moments as he appears to listen for anything unusual, before opening the door properly, flicking on the warm overhead lights and pulling Soap in by the hand, who gazes at the inside of his flat whilst Ghost locks the door again.

"Dinnae take you for an interior designer, Lt," John grins, glancing at the taller man before going back to admiring the space. It's dusty, sure, but otherwise not quite as awful as expected, and although cramped, holds a feeling of comfort and rest. The two are standing in the kitchen, cupboards naked oak wood and counters hand-painted daffodil yellow, the honey-coloured floor tiles chipped but superglued back together. The image of Si sitting cross-legged on the ground fixing them fills Soap's mind, his heart fluttering at how domestic his lieutenant suddenly seems.

There isn't a wall between the kitchen and living room, and Johnny takes that opportunity to wonder straight through, taking note of a comfy-looking secondhand sofa to cuddle up on together later. An old TV with a jumble of cables is stood upon a coffee table, which simultaneously doubles as an actual coffee table, evident by a few mismatched coasters with just as many water marks as the surface they're supposed to be protecting. Splintering wood in the tried-to-be-aesthetic bare floorboards are covered by a granny rug which contrasts the baby blue walls surprisingly well. Two doors lead off from the living room, and Ghost walks over to the first one, opening it to show the other.

"Bathroom," he comments as if it isn't obvious. There's nothing extraordinary about it, but Soap does notice his unwavering loyalty here and on base to his very specific shower products - of course. He nods and they move on, entering the fourth room. Si hovers at the doorway whilst Johnny wanders inside, taking in the bedroom.

Most of the space is taken up by a double bed pressed up in the far corner, white paint on the metal frame missing in spots, showing its age. The bedding is black with little bone prints patterning it, soft cotton and all matching. Shoved next to the bed is a chest of drawers, one of the handles missing and replaced with a nail bashed into the wood. Hung up precariously on the picture rail over it is Simon's formal uniform - clearly unused for years due to his skilful avoidance of social events. Again, the floor is stripped of carpet (the bedroom in slightly safer condition than in the living room) and the walls are painted, this time a pale pink and dotted with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars.

"Never got them as a kid," Ghost mutters, gesturing to the stars and then the general soft colours of his flat. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, avoiding eye contact - and subsequently his boyfriend's loving smile too. "You want something to eat? I don't have anything," he adds quickly.

"We can go doon to the chippy?" John suggests, walking over to kiss him tenderly. "Or if you don't feel like seein' people, I could order us something." The taller man nods at the second option, then proceeds to wrap his arms around Soap's waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck and pressing his lips to the skin, simply savouring his warm embrace.

"I love you, Johnny. I'm happy you're here."

The next few days go by far too quick for either's liking. They're spent with long mornings just laying in bed, doing fuck all on their phones in the oddest cuddle positions known; alternatively, smothering each other in hugs and kisses until they have to give them attention until they're satisfied. Time is spent plodding around the flat, wearing pyjama trousers and fluffy socks and with blankets draped over their bare shoulders.

Meals are cooked with very little skill but a whole lot of try, so at least that's something. Neither go out much; just to the shops when they need something or one night to get fish and chips from the good place across the street. They eat sitting on the countertop or the sofa, watching some shitshow with a laugh track that winds Simon up.

Evenings involve making out during conversation, quietly murmuring and laughing between kisses, chests pressed together so their hearts can talk directly. Ghost realises he's never felt so safe and content on leave before this one night when they're lying in bed, a dim lamp the only light in the room as he runs his fingers through Soap's hair, now slightly curly from growing out whilst not on base. It's quiet, but not in the lonely, terrifying way it usually is when he's alone in the flat, left to his own thoughts for however long between deployments.

Maybe, just maybe, leave will become something that he doesn't dread anymore. And perhaps next time - he thinks, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and flicking off the lamp - it might be nice to meet Johnny's family.

[unknownmarley]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴛᴇxᴀ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

𐙚⋆.˚ a multi part benny rodriguez fanfic

𐙚⋆.˚ benny rodriguez x crushing!fem!oc

𐙚⋆.˚ friends(kinda) to lovers, mutual pinning later in story, fem!oc hard crushing, fem!oc kinda dumb

⋆𐙚01

 

THE warm summer sun gently filtered through Cherry's delicate pink sheer curtains, casting a soft rosy hue over her room. As she stirred awake, a soft groan escaped her lips, her limbs tangled in the quilt adorned with a delightful cherry pattern that sprawled across her bed.

Slowly sitting up, Cherry blinked away the remnants of sleep, her eyes adjusting to the newfound brightness that flooded her room. With a small yawn, she stretched languidly, feeling the warmth of the morning sun kissing her skin. Letting her legs dangle off the edge of the bed, she savored the sensation of the gentle breeze caressing her bare skin.

Taking in the familiar sights of her room, Cherry's gaze lingered on her white vanity adorned with an array of makeup, perfume bottles, skincare products, and various knick-knacks. The pink walls were adorned with posters, which most were featuring Elvis Presley, whom she adored with a passion that bordered on obsession. Perhaps it was the allure of his soulful voice that sang those love songs or his captivating smile that drew her in.

Clutching the edge of her bed, Cherry lifted herself up, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpeting as she made her way towards the door. Pausing for a moment to admire the Elvis poster adorning her door, she wrapped her hand around the cool metal handle and gently pushed it open, stepping out into the hallway.

Descending the staircase, Cherry's hand trailed along the smooth wooden railing, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the soft carpeting. As she reached the bottom step, her eyes swept over the pristine interior of her home. Despite its breath taking appearance and luxurious furnishings, there was a distinct lack of warmth, as if the house were merely a stage set rather than a lived-in home.

Shaking off the melancholy thoughts, Cherry made her way to the kitchen, the silence of the house broken only by the sweet melody of birdsong drifting in through the open windows. A smile graced her lips as she listened to the symphony of nature, one of her favorite sounds in the world. But even the birdsong couldn't compete with the infectious laughter of Benny Rodriguez, the charming tan-skinned boy who had captured her heart since she first laid eyes on him after moving to California's San Fernando Valley the previous year.

With thoughts of Benny dancing in her mind, Cherry began her morning routine. Cherry hurriedly prepared a simple breakfast, hastily throwing slices of bread onto a plate and nearly burning her fingertips in the process. With a small exclamation of "ouchies," she quickly soothed her singed fingers by lightly licking them.

The shrill ring of the phone interrupted her morning routine, prompting Cherry to dart over to the wall-mounted phone. Balancing the receiver between her shoulder and ear, she deftly spread jam onto her toast as she answered in her unmistakable Texan accent, "Hello, you've reached the Benson family."

"Hii, my sweet girl Cherry, glad to talk to you too," chimed a familiar voice, followed by a chorus of giggles from the other end of the line.

Recognizing the voice of her best friend, Hallie, Cherry's demeanor instantly brightened. "Oh, Hallie, what a pleasure to hear from a lady like you," she replied, her smile widening as she spoke.

"Okay, so I was thinking we go to the sandlot for just a few minutes, so you can get a little peek at your dreamer boy, Benny!" she teased, adding playful emphasis to Benny's name.

"Hallie, what no!" Cherry protested, feeling her cheeks flush crimson at the mere mention of Benny's name. Though she had never spoken to him, her admiration for the tan-skinned boy from afar was undeniable. Unfortunately for Cherry, Hallie, her dear best friend and the next-door neighbor of the Benjamin Franklin Rodriguez, was determined to play matchmaker for the two teenagers.

"Come on, it's gonna to happen sooner or later. You and little Benny boy will soon be puppies in love," Hallie teased the poor girl who face was as red as a tomato.

"I don't even know why I told you about my crush on him." Cherry muttered, taking a bite of her now jam-coated toast and covering her mouth to stifle the sounds of her chewing.

"You told me because I'm amazing, and also ew, you're chewing so loud, you bum," Hallie scolded lightly.

Rolling her eyes, Cherry retorted, "Oh, whatever, acting all perfect like you've never pigged out on s'mores before."

"That was one time!" Hallie protested, her voice rising slightly, causing Cherry to wince at the sudden burst of noise in her ear. "But get ready, I'll be over in like twenty!"

With a soft sigh, Cherry pulled the phone away from her ear as Hallie hung up. Placing the phone back on its cradle, making her way back to her room upstairs.

AS the summer air hung heavy and humid around Cherry, Cherry stood outside her house waiting for Hallie, adjusting the folds of her crisp white tennis dress. Though the dress was more about style than function for her, she couldn't help but wear it with satisfaction, a smile playing on herlips.

Hallie's exuberant voice broke through the quiet, and she rushed out to Cherry, embracing her in a tight hug. "Oh my gosh, we're matching!" Hallie exclaimed, her hands resting on Cherry's shoulders as she admired the coordination of their outfits.

Cherry chuckled, returning the hug. "Great minds think alike!" she quipped, a wide grin spreading across her face as she glanced at her best friend. Before she could say more, Hallie tugged her along the sidewalk.

"We've got to hurry, can't have you missing your boyfriend's swing!" Hallie teased, gripping Cherry's hand as they walked. The rhythmic click of their heels echoed against the pavement.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Cherry protested, her cheeks flushing crimson as she glanced down, feeling silly for having a crush on a guy she spoke not even one word to. "I've barely even spoken to him," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And?" Hallie retorted, rolling her eyes playfully. She let go of Cherry's hand, turning to face her embarrassed friend. "Well, that's changing today my sweet country pumpkin!" she declared with a grin, seizing Cherry's hand once more and pulling her through the narrow path that leaded to the sandlot which was now in sight showing the boys endless game of baseball it seemed.

The two girls stood at a safe distance from the game, quietly observing to avoid getting caught in the flurry of baseballs. Cherry's gaze landed on a small blonde boy she hadn't noticed before. Hallie explained that he had recently moved in a few houses down, but he seemed more interested in playing than in joining their little crush-induced escapade.

Hallie nudged Cherry, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Look over there, your little boy toy is up to bat!" she whispered, eliciting a heated blush from Cherry, who swatted her friend away with a muttered "shut up." As she absentmindedly fixed her chunky headband and refreshen her curled hair with a small fluff, if Benny did see her she wanted to look okay at-least.

Nevertheless, Cherry couldn't help but watch as Benny swung the bat with precision, the satisfying "thwack" of wood meeting ball echoing in her mind as the ball soared through the air.

Then came the moment that shattered the jovial atmosphere. The ball struck the new boy, sending him tumbling to the ground. Laughter erupted from the other boys, a chorus of mockery that cut through Cherry's empathy like a knife. While the situation might have been amusing in its absurdity, being laughed at by a group of seven must have been a crushing blow to the boy's ego.

Benny's reaction didn't include laughter; Cherry was quick to notice that. She couldn't help but pick up on every detail about the brown-haired boy, a habit she found embarrassing. As she observed him, she noticed the empathy etched on his face, mirroring her own feelings of discomfort for the blonde-headed boy.

"Okay, I'll get it!" the blonde kid yelled, his voice tinged with embarrassment as he slowly made his way towards the ball near the mangled scraped metal dirty fence. Cherry chewed nervously on her lip, feeling a pang of sympathy for the boy. His overly long hat bill only added to the embarrassment of the situation, amplifying the social suicide he seemed to be inadvertently committing with each step he took towards the ball.

As the blonde boy finally retrieved the ball, he hurried back, his steps rushed as he tripped over his own feet halfway there. Awkwardly returning to his original spot, he stood there with the ball in his hand.

"We're waiting!" a nasally voice screamed from one of the boys, his oversized glasses making him look like he raided his grandma's closet. Another voice chimed in impatiently, "Come on, throw it!"

The chorus of impatient demands intensified, directed at the boy who now looked like he'd had the worst week of his life. Cherrys heart crumbled for the poor boy, she could have sworn that she felt tears welling up just imagining herself in his shoes.

She watched with a sinking feeling as the blonde kid attempted to throw the ball, failing miserably as it barely traveled five feet before rolling pathetically. The boys' laughter crescendoed, their mocking comments piercing the air as the boy stood there, on the brink of tears, his face red with embarrassment and the threat of spilled tears.

Cherry watched in disbelief, her brows furrowing and her mouth hanging open in shock. Hallie seemed to share her sentiment, the two girls standing there as the kids continued to roll around laughing.

"Y'all are horrible!" Cherry screamed at the boys, but they paid her no mind, only laughing harder. Her eyes landed on Benny, who stared at her, disappointment evident not in her, but in his friends.

"That wasn't funny!" Hallie yelled at the guys as she grabbed Cherry's hand, pulling her away. Cherry's gaze lingered on Benny for a moment longer, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment before she looked away, letting Hallie lead her through the small path.

Cast ← → 02

[blubushie]

So today, for a list of notes/shit I've gotta do to this ute to make it functional:

Tray rust: confirmed simple surface rust. Sandblast the rust off then put down bedliner.

Whatever dipshit painted the deep blue on there painted over the bevel. Gotta strip that off.

It has tow plug.

It has 1 original key, 1 spare, and 1 petrol key.

Manual choke.

Heater core needs to be flushed the bloke thinks. Might need replacing, says me. The latter's more likely.

Engine has not been tuned up since rebuild. Will need a tuning now that everything's settled.

It has new manifold gaskets on both sides, new flange gaskets on both sides, and dual exhaust.

Brake master cylinder has a booster—bloke thinks condition of master cylinder is because of shit coating that leaves the factory being the cause of them all rusting. "It's either shit metal or shit coating." I'm inclined to agree—every fucken one I've seen so far that didn't have a brand new—or painted—master cylinder is rusted to fuck. On the plus side the rust is just surface rust but I'm inclined to test that servo housing myself cuz I don't trust it.

Firewall looks good.

No water leaks, wipers are ok but probably need new pulleys.

Window rubber is tight and good, had a boot at one time.

HE HAS A SLIDE WINDOW SOMEWHERE HE CAN GIVE ME!! Probably the first thing I'm doing on this car is installing that fucken sliding window and my rifle rack.

Rear signals don't work because the pins/switches are mixed up, also horn doesn't work. Need to figure this out. If I can't do it maybe I can get that sparky down the block to have a squiz at it.

Engine sounds fucken incredible. 360 V8 with C6 tranny.

GVW is rated at 07500 so it'll hold Matilda.

Wheels are 16in 6ply.

2 petrol tanks, 20gal front & 25gal rear.

Fuel gauge doesn't work. Bloke has the new gauge ready, just hasn't installed it. Maybe there's a problem with the sending unit. Considering it doesn't work for either petrol tank I'm pretty sure it's not a float saturation problem.

Whatever dipshit installed the old manifold gaskets had the wrong size square which caused a leak (maybe F350?)—this is fixed now! She rides smooth.

Rust above windscreen rim causing improper seal along the drain rail—luckily it's not rusted through. Can be fixed but may need a plate welded on. I can do that myself.

Old BB holes in windscreen. I like them for their character but they're gonna crack the entire windscreen eventually, especially in the Australian heat as the windscreen warms. Need to replace windscreen.

One crack in dash around radio, dashboard is clean otherwise. I don't care about the crack but replace radio with an early 70s AM/FM with AUX jack.

ORIGINAL COLOUR IS PEACOCK BLUE WITH WHIMBELDON WHITE STRIPE! Restore to og paint because bloke wants me to. "I'm happy if it goes to someone who'll treat it well and make it look factory."

Passenger mirror is cloudy, needs a clean or possibly replacement.

Engine was rebuilt less that 3,000mi ago and has a 100,000mi warranty.

Bloke will get me a copy of the work order of all the work done to the ute—total of $12,000 for the work done.

"I know he did SOMETHING with the transmission." Tranny likely not rebuilt but WAS removed for alterations during engine rebuild.

Has hooks AND ringlets for turnbuckle attachment for camper.

Has rig mirrors.

Has reinforced tray springs. Has reinforced front, auxillary, and rear shocks.

No carpeting on interior. Get rubber mats I don't want blood in my carpet.

Get a seat cover so Misty doesn't ruin the vinyl.

Has manual steering and manual brakes. Get power disc brakes put in ASAP. I can do the power steering myself. In the meantime, maybe a suicide knob?

[a-stubborn-little-fish]

I miss being a little girl and putting my feet on top of my dad’s so he can walk while I hugged him. I miss that joy. I miss climbing on the rocks in Central Park and feeding the horses carrots. I miss the tulips in my neighbor’s yard and the caterpillars on the tomato plants and the pansies planted around the bird bath. I miss the sunflowers taller than me. I miss the intricate wrought iron railing with filigree. I miss the wooden chest with fish shaped brass handles that flipped up and down. I miss my giant, empty, carpeted room and scratchy blue heated blanket. I miss the sound of the motor humming and clicking from my favorite nightlight. I miss playing in the park next to the elementary school across from my house. I miss the frost on the steel bars that stung my skin. I miss the cold tile in the kitchen and the broken clock above the dining room table. I miss the corded phone that was always tangled and the screen door that never closed just right. I miss footy pajamas and sliding down the carpeted stairs on my butt and crashing into the coat closet at the bottom. I miss the scary basement. I miss watching the sun set over the Brooklyn bridge. I miss Fergus scratching up my legs when I’d get home. I miss sitting in the back of an airport terminal tram while the sun rises. I miss the bumps of a plane landing and the ding before a pilot’s announcement. I miss yawning to pop my ears during take off and that momentary feeling of falling when the plane wheels leave the runway. I miss the silent dark car rides home with only the glow of the buttons to light up the car’s interior. I miss the strange carpet in the Tampa International baggage claim with its rows and rows of empty carousels. I miss those little curled leaves that crunch when you step on them. I miss the feeling of my baby brother’s hand gripping my fingers. I miss how he always laughed hysterically every time I smiled at him. I miss building train tracks for him after school. I miss watching his favorite shows with him and his hugs when we’d pick him up from preschool. I miss mixing and heating up his baby bottles and cleaning his binkys. I miss his mouth breathing when he passed out in his car seat. I miss scrubbing the spaghetti stains off his high chair. I miss playing on the roots on the trees in Medard Park and running across the boardwalk to hear my feet thunk against the wood. I miss hiding my DS under my pillow so I could play Pokémon Mystery Dungeon. I miss playing with my bakugan and pretending they were empires at war. I miss sleeping in my closet just because I could. I miss the dark parking garages and dull beige walls at USF. I miss sitting with my mom in the campus library. I miss going to Busch Gardens every weekend and riding the sky ride over the habitats. I miss taking the train through the safari area and being lulled to sleep by the clacking of the wheels. I miss running across the rope bridges in Jungala and riding Air Grover with my little brother. I miss the smell of chlorine and the cold unfriendly YMCA changing rooms. I miss the rock wall and the hot concrete. I miss swimming in pools and being afraid of the robot cleaning the deep end. I miss feeding the ducks stale bread. I miss my 8th grade history teacher. I miss the cold dark mornings in the car. I miss sitting on my backpack outside the door of my first period class. I miss skipping lunch and hiding in the darkness backstage in the auditorium. I miss the library after school. I miss cleaning the fish tanks in the marine science room. I miss the smell of formaldehyde. I miss walking from the school to the local library and hunkering down in the corner to watch Hetalia on my laptop. I miss listening to music as I walked through fog to the bus stop just before sunrise. I miss the dew on the bus windows and the painfully cold mornings and blue faux leather seats always cracked and peeling. I miss the snails hiding in the cracks of the bricks. I miss the warm summer rain and the windy fall days. I miss hiding in the nurse’s room during pep rallies.

[seriously-nobody]

Love's Dark Afflictions

Chapter 11

Warnings: Romance, mention of blood, mention of suicide, insecurity

Preface: Mostly warm fuzzies this chapter. Hope y'all like it!

An hour later you arrive at an overgrown iron fence. “I do apologize for the mess. It's been quite a while since any mortals have set foot here.” He says halting at an ornate iron gate with two brick pillars topped with lanterns on each side. You pass by one of the pillars and see a plaque with a golden monogram that reads C-M. You question in your mind if this was his manor. “Yes, this was my estate when I was mortal, but alas it falls into disrepair with no living servants to keep it.” Alistair dismounts and tears away vines that hold the gate shut. He walks you through the courtyard and ties your horse to a bronze hitching post in the shape of a bat with outstretched wings. “I hope the interior is to your liking.” He walks up the stairs to a set of mahogany double doors.

They open on their own, swinging in as if there were invisible servants opening them. ‘Is this place haunted too?’ You think. “Only by my former servants.” He answers walking in and looking around. The gold and crystal chandelier above you lights and slowly the gas lamps in the foyer turn on one by one, illuminating the interior. He walks you into the foyer to give you a better look. The walls are charcoal black with gold leaf trim. A red velvet carpet flows down a grand black staircase like a river of blood. The railings are made entirely out of gold, connecting at the bottom with two golden roaring lion banisters on either side. ‘The architecture is immaculate.’ You think looking around at the beautiful black and gold theming. “Thank you, I had it redesigned to my liking when I inherited it.” He smiles warmly.

“I suppose I should let you have your body back.” Alistair clears your throat. He closes your eyes and takes a deep breath in. You release your breath slowly and feel his presence in your mind leave with it. You open your eyes and find him standing beside you. “Everything feels alright? Any pain anywhere? I know possession can be quite hard on some mortals.” Alistair asks, cupping your cheek. “Yes, I'm alright, just weak.” You place your hand over his in reassurance. “I know a place you can rest.” You nod and take a step forward. You stumble, underestimating your weakness, but Alistair catches you. “Allow me to guide you.” He slithers his arm around your waist and helps you up the grand staircase.

He brings you to a large mahogany door. Carved on the door is the face of a horned demon with pointed ears and slicked back hair. Its mouth agape, showing two sharp fangs, frozen in silent laughter as snakes pour out from beneath its collar. Their bodies intertwine and weave together to form a ring with a skull at the bottom of it. Within the ring it reads ‘Master Crump’ in gold. This must be Alistair's bedroom. The door opens by itself and Alistair helps you inside. The gas lamps inside are dim and the glass coverings are tinted red, making it easy on your eyes and the slight pain at your temples. The red carpeting bleeds further into the room, softening your footsteps. You shuffle in and Alistair sets you on the end of a very large bed with black silk sheets. He walks to the head of the bed to fluff the red silk pillows and pull back the sheets for you.

Optional smut

You look around the room and find a large portrait hung on the wall. “Alistair?” You beacon him. “Yes, darling?” He floats over to your side on the bed. “Is that what you looked like when you were a mortal?” You ask pointing to the portrait of the wall. He looks at the portrait and grimaces. He looks away, his expression saddening. “Indeed. I'm sorry you must see me as I am now. My mortal form was corrupted when I crossed over. I suppose as punishment for my misdeeds in life.” He hangs his head. “I think you look rather dashing.” You tilt your head at him. “I used to…” He keeps his head down. “I meant now.” You bump his shoulder. He looks at you in confusion. “But this form is- I'm old, frail, and monstrous.” He looks between your eyes searching for answers. Your expression softens and you take his hand in yours. “You’re more handsome to me now than in that portrait.” You cup his cheek. “You mean so much more to me than your appearance, Alistair.” You kiss him and he melts into your touch. “You bewilder me with your strangeness, mortal.” He says warmly.

“I have something I'd like to give to you.” He says getting off the bed and floating over to his wardrobe.“It's something I cherished in life.” He opens a drawer and picks something out of it. He floats back to you with a closed fist. “May I?” He asks, gesturing to your hand. You lift your hand to him and he takes it. He gently slides a gold ring onto your middle finger. The centerpiece, a black diamond skull with gold teeth and rubies inlaid into the eye sockets. “It's absolutely gorgeous.” You marvel at its intricate design. “There's one small, hidden detail just here.” He says and presses a small golden button on the side of the ring. The skull’s mouth opens and a small blade springs out of it, surprising you a little. “What an interesting contraption.” You say, your mind flooding with ideas of how to use it. “I thought you might like it.” He smiles at you. You press the button again and the blade retracts and the jaw of the skull snaps shut. You look up at Alistair and his expression is the softest and most warm you have ever seen on him. You smile, feeling the happiest you have felt in a very long time.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you take his face in your hands and pull him to you, kissing him. “I love it. Thank you.” You say, holding him close. He places his hand over one of yours, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. “I hate to ruin the moment but…” He pauses, sadness filling his eyes. “Are you still set on killing yourself today?” He asks. “I think I can put up with the mortal realm for a little while longer. If that's alright with you.” You say smiling at him. “Of course, darling. The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy in my realm.” He says. You check the clock on the nightstand beside the bed, you have a few more hours left before you have to head back.

“You can rest here for the time being. Don't worry about the servant, he can't reach you here.” He says guiding you to the head of the bed. “Thank you, Alistair. For all that you've done for me.” You yawn. Your eyelids become heavy with the promise of sound sleep. “Don't worry about it,” He cuddles up next to you, pulling up the blankets and covering you both. “Thank me later. For now, rest your head, you need it.” He says and your eyelids slowly close. “I love you…” You mumble sleepily. “I love you too, darling.” He kisses your forehead and you drift off into dreamless sleep.

Chapter 13

[makiandcheese]

Notes in blue ink

Kaeya / Rosaria

tags: childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, domestic fluff, modern au, non-sexual physical touch

a/n: I made this on my phone, so sorry if the format is weird

☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆

summary: Kaeya and Rosaria reminisce on the past that led to their matching rings.

☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵☆

Once in a blue moon, Kaeya would ask a question that would leave Rosaria stunned. He once asked her about her dream home after her comments about the Ragnvindr household. At first, she thought about it and realized she had nothing to answer. She was particularly interested in interior decor but not so much in the structure itself.

After a few moments of silence, she expressed how she liked big windows that brought the natural light in. Much like the sliding doors in Varka’s home since it brought in warmth, she once took for granted in the orphanage. Rosaria preferred a house that was not too boxy or too geometrically structured, as she states. She expressed how the exterior could also affect her time there.

"I want a nice, warm, kinda gothic home. I don't want plain whites everywhere." She said, leaning on the school garden railing at lunch. "But… to be honest, I don't really care as much."

Kaeya’s eyes rolled. She said she didn't care but stated specifics down to how she wanted the knobs at the drawers would look like. "You literally said a lot of things. Are you worried I’ll judge you, is that it?." he asked. "Come on, lighten up. Plus take this as a… practice question to when you'd get to date someone."

"Sounds like you're trying to coax me to come to another blind date again." Rosaria grinned and traced the specks of sunlight hitting Kaeya's face from the tree above them. "I'm not interested in another one of those events."

"Then," words he kept deep in his veins and arteries slipped out his tongue. "Imagine I'd come to visit your home. What would it look like?"

She turned away from him and traced the same light from the trees from her hands to her fingertips. "Well…" She smiled and stuck her tongue inside her cheek to prevent herself from showing anymore. "You wouldn't be able to guess because you'd come at 10 pm on a Friday with three bottles of alcohol, that's for sure."

"Hey!"

"But… I'd take you to the kitchen, and there'd be some barstools by my kitchen island. We'd share several glasses like how we already do at your place. You'd complain about your family, and I'd complain about the severe consequences of capitalism on Mondstadt." Rosaria's mind was flooded with the thought of Kaeya by her side for years to come. "You'd hand me a glass of something Diluc taught you, and, for some reason, I'd still be more sober than you."

His hands traced the floor plan in the air. Making sure she doesn't turn, he said. "Oh please, there's not a chance in hell you'd have a higher alcohol tolerance than me."

"We'd spend what little time we have together, and I sober myself up before I drive you home." It agonized her to remind him that they were still friends. "Your partner would be angry at me for letting you drink so much on a weekend."

Kaeya’s lips bled internally, hearing her say those words. He would stay by her side on her soft carpet by the sofa if he had the chance. He visualized exactly what their typical day would look like. He'd lean on her shoulder, and like snow, she'd melt in his. "Do we really have to live that far? I want us to be neighbors, in maybe… 20 years?"

"Fine, we'd live right next to each other." Rosaria said, leaning forward so her face wouldn't show how her brows began to wrinkle her forehead. "We'd have those shared fruit trees in the back though. I'll take whatever sunsettias I can."

"It'll be sour. So sour on your side." Kaeya pushed her shoulder. "I'd still give you the sweet ones since you'd probably have the best house pet. I'd come and visit just to see it."

Rosaria turned to him, pointing to herself, raised eyebrow and all, "You're not even going to acknowledge the homeowner? man, fuck you." She pushed him back.

"Yeah because at least it won't be late to class." The bell rang just as he predicted it. "Last one to Mr. Yang's class doesn't wipe their ass when they take a shit!" Taunting her as they both ran back to their building, all the way at the opposite side of the campus.

"You ass!" Rosaria ran to him and was amused at how easily she caught up. "Last one has to pay for cornetto later." Noticing the passing volleyball and basketball joint varsity jog, she rushed through. Leaving Kaeya trying to move past them. She was then blocked by the construction worker's materials stacked by their path.

No matter the obstacle, they still arrived at their classroom seconds before the afternoon prayer. The same old prayer they memorized even if their ears were blocked with their heartbeats and breaths. The same old prayer neither of them cared to listen to.

As they discussed the relevance of historical events per Mr. Yang's guidance, Kaeya noted every architectural detail Rosaria said to his question. He did his best to hide the fact that the subject of his notetaking was taking a light nap from the history instructor. The breeze of a February afternoon filled the room and fluttered the curtains, perfectly hiding the sleeping girl at the farthest back of the class.

Years passed, and he still kept that same old notebook with the same old prayer engraved at the back. Historical notes filled the front, and several pages at the back were what she said. She, too, kept a similar notebook, except it was her personal journal. It told details about how Kaeya looked that day and what he asked. It was brief. A mere paragraph at least, but it was enough to fill her pages with emotions she felt.

Kaeya asked me what house I wanted to live in. To be honest, I really don't care. A roof, no roof, broken walls, tall fences, fancy windows, none of it matters. He just had to be there.

My home Our home.

He also told me that if we're still single by 30, we should get married for the benefits. It was a passing statement, but I really hoped he would stay a loser so I could be by his side when his back begins to crack when he turns 30.

Kaeya shouldn't have read the contents of his wife's journal from 15 years ago. Now, Rosaria has to explain to him that she's really into him since they were young. Enduring his constant teasing was the worst, especially since he has hard, undeniable, written evidence. That doesn't mean she doesn't retaliate. She often stayed by the kitchen and patio she dreamed of whenever he did peek. That night, he decided to corner her in their bedroom. Reminding him of how much he had loved her since they were 16.

"Looks like someone had a huge crush on me." He said, looming over her just before she slept, continuing to bully her under their blankets. "What's wrong? It's not too late to admit it."

"Oh fuck off! You bought our house with my interests in mind. If anything, you have a huge crush on me." The weight of Rosaria's covers grew as Kaeya rested his body on top of her. Feeling pokes and hearing his lips smack over the duvet, she was kissed on her shoulder, chest, and forehead. At least, that's what it felt like for her. "You have a terrible aim." she peeked over and saw him preparing for that moment.

There are times when Rosaria keeps her journal out in the open. If he can egosurf online, there's a high chance he could egosurf his name through her journals. She ensured it was the one where she told him how much she loved him. Rosaria's cheeks were soft and warm, much like her lips. Kaeya couldn't get enough of it. "Whose got a terrible aim now?" he said, wiping her trial lip stain she put on earlier in the morning. "Look at you, so pretty and red. I think this shade is nice on you."

Rosaria mustered all her strength and rolled Kaeya over. Allowing himself to be rolled in the duvet they always shared. "Hmm… I don't think I'd like it when something isn't transfer-proof, but…" She grabbed his cheeks and placed a new coat on her lips. "I guess I won't mind testing this a few more times on my beloved."

"Rosie?" Kaeya's heart began to race, "please, mercy!!" There was no mercy left for him.

Pinned down, receiving many kisses all over his face, ears, neck, and collarbones. It was quite an eventful evening for the two. Hopefully, they remembered to check their calendars. It was the eve of their first wedding anniversary, after all. It's good that Kaeya is oblivious to Rosaria’s intentional revelation of everything she loves about him. Else, she would’ve been drowning in countless words she couldn't have the strength to say out loud.

"Sit still. I can't kiss your lips if you keep laughing and turning your head away from me." Rosaria held onto his soft cheeks. "Now turn this way and let me make up for the 15 years I didn't say it."

"Oh my fucking god. Rosie, I love you, so please spare me." He pleaded through his dimple smile.

"Not a chance."

♡

[manifeststories]

Midnight with Madison

Madison, a reserved young lady, dug her hands into her pockets and strolled down the street towards her apartment after another long day of serving customers at her local coffee shop. It was late, perhaps too late, for her to walk alone in the middle of the night but she was the last one out of the store before closing time and had the obligation to close up. She didn't mind the ten minute walk back home but she habitually looked behind her to see if anyone were to sneak up from behind. The only source of comfort came from the dimly lit street lamps that hung above her path and a little worn leather journal that she cradled in her coat pocket. It was something she started carrying around last year ever since she first got the job as a barista. Whenever she got bored or a lot of downtime in the shop, she would open it up and jot down what she saw: couples in love, partners engaged in heated arguments, people being visibly frustrated, and so many more flavors of emotions. And while there was some sort of comfort in being behind the counter, she wondered what it would be like to swap roles with her customers. For instance, it was one thing to watch people fall in love, but it was another thing to be the person falling in love.

She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as it suddenly dawned on her that she'd been left out of all of what made existence fun; expressing herself with her own emotions. But... it wasn't because she hadn't tried, rather her seemingly dead-end job kept holding her back from finding the time to feel the joys and whims of being a fair lady nearing her 20s. Madison audibly sighed and wished she could find some time or some way to be able to tap into her inner passions that had been bottled up inside her...

Suddenly, she felt an uncharacteristically strong gust of wind whip around her as she stepped foot on a staircase towards her apartment unit. She braced herself along the railing as one hand held on for dear life while the other dug even deeper into her pocket. After a few seconds, the winds died down and let Madison continue to make her ascent up to the second floor and towards her door. However, when she arrived at her doorstep there was something unexpected hanging on her door knob.

It looked like a purse in the shape of a heart with a worn leather exterior that matched the color of her journal. As she approached her door, she looked around to see if someone had misplaced their bag but saw nobody wandering the halls at this time at night. She tilted her head down and unzipped its shell to take an innocent peak and found an odd item sitting at the bottom. Madison quickly unlocked her front door and carried the lost purse inside to get a better look of what it held.

She swiftly flipped on her lights and peered inside to see a carved piece of wood that looked to be some sort of prop; or mask. As she took off her shoes and jacket, she flipped the amber handbag upside down and dropped the object onto her carpeted floor with a soft thud. She leaned in and scooped it up in her hands and felt a sudden tingling sensation cascade down her arms. The rather innocuous looking artifact was indeed made out of wood but it had a certain heft to it that made it feel much lighter than it looked. Her eyes traced its curved wooden ridges up and around the three chiseled holes that made up its simple yet alluring appearance. Its mouth was agape with a mix of a smile and manic laughter. It's eyes bore itself into her soul as she felt a comforting warmth tip-toe across her arms. And the rivets that dotted its metal nose piece seemingly sparkled one-after-another under her apartment's fluorescent lights. Madison flipped the mask around towards its inside and looked at its more plain interior and noticed something out of place.

As she continued to hold it in her hands, she felt the world around her slowly dim as her hands trembled with a nervous excitement. To combat her jitters, she instinctively lifted her hands and caught a little green twinkle near the rim of the mask's eyes; as if it was winking at her. Soon thereafter, her curiosity got the better of her as she continued to bring it closer and closer until her newly acquired artifact was within a few inches away from her fair skin and blonde ponytail. At this angle, her eyes caught more flashes of unexplained light until she saw a prominent diagonal streak glide across its interior. It was almost like the mask was teasing Madison to embrace it and become one like so many previous wearers before her. And that's exactly what happened.

She took off her glasses and leaned in closer until suddenly the inanimate timber sprang to life in the most animated way possible. Within a fraction of a second, the curved outer edges of the mask folded in on itself and seized the corners of her face. Its abruptness not only surprised poor Madison but also knocked her back towards a wall as she tried to regain her composure. As she struggled to make heads or tails of what was happening to her, the softening fibers of her mask began to magically weave dozens of its energized tendrils through her hair in an effort to make it harder for her to detach from its ever-increasing mass. She dug her hands at her face hoping to grab and dislodge herself from the mask’s grasp but alas the pliable green membrane successfully dodged her incoming attacks as it shifted and stretched itself to insane proportions. And while Madison was distracted by the little game of keep away at the front of her face, the mask quickly made its way through her scalp until it not only consumed her hair but also covered and penetrated her ears on its way into her brain stem. Madison soon felt her mind grow numb as centuries of nordic god-like powers pumped into her being all in an effort to personify her inner most desires; exactly what she had wished for earlier that night.

Madison’s hands quickly dropped from her face as the mask finished claiming its stake upon her entire head and sealed itself with a tight vertical lip that locked the innocent blonde underneath. She let out a series of low, yet seductive, groans as she felt the edges of her face, including a half-inch underneath her jaw, tighten and clinch with a series of satisfying snaps. Madison was now left with a slightly larger light green head that hid all of her blemishes and enhanced her key facial features like her plump lips and lush eyebrows. All traces of her humanity had now been covered or pushed aside as a new life form spun itself into a twister right in the middle of her quaint living room.

(While the rest of this story is deemed too explicit per Tumblr ToS, the entire story can be found on Patreon for supporters)

=====

Whether you're spending time among others or with yourself, here's a little treat to fill in the time. And while this is a preview with a third of the story, the whole story is available to supporters on Patreon along with the full access to other supporters-only chapters and stories!

And be sure to check out NomaxXN's wonderful art that inspired this story!

Of course, let me know your thoughts by leaving a like and reblogging this chapter if you enjoyed it! If you'd like to see more stories in the future, please consider supporting me with some coffee for my late-night writing sessions.

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Manuscript Search Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @winterandwords​ and @author-a-holmes​! :D

Words: heat, hard, harsh, hurt, wet, cold, grey, broken and tired. These are from The Unfortunate Moth and The Power and the Glory:

Heat Warm:

Leo had come up to the deck after a quick bath because he found the interior of the ship unpleasantly warm. Several other passengers wandered past without paying any attention to him. He tuned out their presence so he could concentrate on the script. Gradually it dawned on him that someone was leaning over the rails just in front of him.

Hard:

By the time Yo-han arrived in Georgia the assassin was long gone. That was the funny thing. In spite of all the noise — the shot, the shouting, the screams — the assassin had walked out of the house and disappeared. No one had seen them. A ghost could hardly have vanished more completely.

Harsh:

"I have an idea," Mirio said. "The two of you go. Then I'll tell your aunt -- and," he grimaced, "my uncle -- that Lian has gone to fulfil a challenge to prove himself worthy of marrying me, and Abi has gone to help him. That might stop them thinking too harshly of you."

Hurt:

Yo-han had never subscribed to the idea that tastes in literature were an accurate reflection of innocence or guilt. When he had caught a serial rapist last year, the man's bookshelf had been full of reference books on marine botany and the lives of Catholic saints. On the other hand his landlady during his stay in Berlin had been a sweet little old lady who wouldn't hurt a fly and loved gruesome horror novels.

Wet:

Phil felt something wet on her face. She brushed it away and almost expected to see blood on her hand. It came as a shock to realise she was crying.

Cold:

I decided to fire the shot from your cabin long before I even got on the ship. I truly believed you would have an alibi. No doubt this is cold comfort, but I had no intention of framing you.

Grey:

The main impression Király left on him was of someone who viewed life as a vale of tears. His clothes were black and grey, which combined with his pale skin made him look almost as if he'd stepped out of a photograph. A general air of grim resignation hung about him, as if he had expected the worst but was still disappointed.

Broken:

Phil knelt down and examined the square. It wasn't a broken board or anything so simple. It had been sawn out deliberately. She could spot the sawdust on her carpet.

Tired:

Ilaran shrugged without opening his eyes. "I'm too tired to think about it just now. Have you any idea how much work has piled up while I was away?"

Open tag for anyone who wants to do this! :D

[the-haunted-office]

The whole post-apocalypse is tiring for Ena while Mizuki keeps using the gun that Cube gave them to shoot whatever is coming at them. For all they know, after getting out, they were chased by something, so they kept running until they find another random building and go inside while Ena shut the door as hard as she can.

Ena has to take some breaths as the run wore her out. "Ahhhh... I never wanted to experience that ever again! We've run for our lives while the haunted school is probably laughing at us right now!"

"But, Ena, we need to find a way to either find the cure or just find a way to get back to the haunted school."

Ena just looks at Mizuki, wondering how the hell they're not fazed by the whole thing they encounter. "Anyway, I guess we can sleep here for the night...as long as there are no creatures here that aren't going to kill us out there." @haunted-girls-talk

Luckily for Ena and Mizuki, the building they just ran into is not one of the carnivorous ones tucked among the friendlier ones. Had they gone into one of the carnivorous buildings, they'd have found themselves shut inside in total darkness and slowly digested over the course of the next 24-48 hours.

The building they just entered is a fairly large older building, one that was once used as a convention center and an adjoining hotel for the business folks who attended them. This particular species is relaxed enough to allow other living things to wander its halls and explore its rooms.

There is plenty to be seen. Since everything was abandoned long ago, much of the interior has fallen into a state of disarray. Paint long since peeled off the walls. Carpet worn away or otherwise buried under rubbish and dirt and all manner of animal droppings and bones and other detritus. The remains of an impressive chandelier lay in the middle of one room, the glass long ago buried under filth, although the metal structure of it remains like the skeletal corpse of an ancient creature.

Scattered everywhere are little snails with colorful spiral designs on their shells. They are simply everywhere, all over everything, oozing slowly over all the rubbish and walls and railings.

A howling sound winds its way through the convention center, echoing throughout the empty hallways and rooms, creating a deep rich sound that echos back in on itself. It's haunting, but one might also consider it beautiful.

Something is speaking to them.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

We love colorful decor, but I didn’t expect the interior of this 1960 farmhouse style home in Fenton, Missouri. It has 3bd, 2ba and is listed for $524,900.

It has a lively red door which is typical of farmhouse style.

I like how that added that funky touch to the shape of the door. 

But, the first we see when we enter is a vintage stair railing painted light blue, some mosaic flooring, and a pool table in front of the fireplace.

What a fun living room- look at design in the wall-to-wall carpet. I wish they would’ve shown the flat screen TV made to look like a giant vintage console TV on the right wall. 

I also see blue walls and ceiling with a turquoise accent wall. 

And check out the blue tiled fireplace. It looks very nicely don- look at the design in the middle of the mantle.

The made a picture wall out of the stair wall.

Off the living room is a sunroom that’s being used as a home office. Notice the floor.

They did a lot of mosaic work in this house- look at the floor in the dining room. Why would they do all this and then sell it?

Lovin the kitchen. Cool orange cabinets and matching mosaic floors.

This is the added sunroom that we saw from the outside. What a great conservatory this would make. 

The laundry room doubles as a closet and storage. 

Check out the mosaics in this bath. Wow, that was a lot of work, and it’s beautifully done, too. Doesn’t look like an amateur job.

Look, they put that design around the window up here, too. Very cool. 

This bd. is large- look at all the office equipment they have in here. Looks like they gave all the windows on this floor the geometric look.

The 2nd bd is also a large size. 

I would say that this is the main bd. 

And, this is the newly renovated 2nd bath on the 2nd fl. 

Beautiful grounds on .74 acre.

Plus, there’s a huge driveway and garage.

https://www.redfin.com/MO/Fenton/801-Bowles-Ave-63026/home/93629057

[maharajaexpressindia]

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