#and gray countertops. window over sink

[beynanasplit]

Transitional Home Bar - U-Shape

[sunnie-angel]

the gloaming

jason todd x gn!reader

Do you know me in the gloaming, Gaunt and dusty gray with roaming? Flower Gathering, Robert Frost

Something sweet dances on the wind, cuts through the grime and exhaust of the city’s usual odour. Flowers, maybe, blooming in the park two blocks east. For Jason Todd, it feels like a Gotham summer, the kind he used to love as a kid. The breeze just caressing his skin before moving on, sticky heat finally letting up as Fall looms on the horizon. The setting sun catches on the windows of the high rises, transforming the whole street into technicoloured fiery hues. 

He’s got a bag of pastries clutched between his teeth, a surprise gift from the bakery on 3rd for helping them with their vandalism problem. Reaching into his back pocket, Jason juggles his phone and wallet looking for his keys. It’s a struggle, but he’s used to it. You tease him for it every time and every time he manages the lock on his own, Jason crows with triumph. Today though, with the risk of dropping his bounty, he keeps his victory to himself.

Silence greets him, punctuated only by the door closing behind him. Cautious, Jason toes off his boots and goes searching. Keys finding their home on the hook and pastries getting deposited on the  countertop still prompt no response. He’s not worried, not yet. You’d sent him a text when you’d gotten home after all. The kitchen is dark in the wake of sunset, the first tendrils of blue grey shadow reaching long fingers across the cabinets. The water from the tap is cold as he gulps it down. Stray drops cling to the glass as he presses it to his forehead. 

Light shines faintly from under the closed door of the bedroom. Pale gold cutting across the plush fibers of the carpet. Jason pushes the door gently, stops it from bouncing off the wall the way it’s prone to doing with just a shade too much enthusiasm. You’re there, curled up on top of the blankets of the bed and gilded by the low light. 

“Hey,” he calls out softly.

You pat the bed beside you and Jason crawls in beside you, mattress sinking under his weight.  With a sigh, your head comes to rest on his stomach, arms coming around him. Jason shivers as your pinky brushes bare skin, T-shirt riding up. Face first, you nuzzle in to him and he holds you tighter. Presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“What’s going on, chickadee?” Jason asks, inhaling the faded scent of shampoo and sweat. Silence stretches out between you, filling the room as the windows grow darker. It’s that quiet hour where the sun has said its farewells but the moon hasn’t quite risen it’s head in greeting, something magical and still filling the night with a dusky blue hue.

“Sometimes the world just has a way of making me feel small, you know?” you say, folding the silence away with your words. Jason feels the rumble of them across his belly. “S’nothing in particular, not really. A door that closed too fast for me, a word that felt loaded, a hand that didn’t help. Just the sense that I’m invisible, like I don’t fully exist.”

It’s a fear that rises its head every once in a while, rolls over you as suddenly as a rogue wave and disappears just as quickly. The drowning sensation of being inconsequential in the eyes of everyone around you, a non-entity. As thin and insubstantial as air with nothing so necessary to offer.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks. Jason feels more than sees you nod. “Sometimes you’re the only thing I can focus on, the world just fades away. I go blind, deaf, and dumb to everything else. You’re it for me, chickadee,” he whispers into the crown of your head.

“I know,” you answer simply, and you do. He’s the destination you’ve spent your life looking for. “Can we just– can we just stay like this a bit until I’m a bit less see through?” 

“We’ll stay here as long as you like. I got no where else I’d rather be.”

Later, when inky darkness covers the city and the streetlamps have long been lit, you will stretch up to place a kiss on Jason’s stubbly cheek. He will smile, and lead you by the hand to the kitchen. Jason will surprise you with the bolo de coco long gone to room temperature in it’s crumpled paper bag, and the two of you will laugh and eat your dessert before your dinners. He will cook for you, asking you questions and catering to your whims until you feel a little less raw.

But that is later. For now, the two of you sit in soft silence, the evening stretching on around you.

[kuroppiii]

  cuteness aggression ᵕ̈       boyfie!timeskip!bokuto kōtarō       x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : your boyfriend is quite ⋮⋮  literally too cute in the mornings

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🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

8:25 am. both you and bokuto have the day off.

you're leaning against the kitchen counter, one of bokuto's shirts loosely hanging off of your frame. as your thumb instinctively scrolls through your feed, the bubbling of hot water brewing for your morning drink sounds off next to you.

you're vaguely aware of the steam drifting up from the top of the machine when your eyes land on a post from an official msby account.

it was video where they had bokuto running around the msby locker room interviewing his teammates. the questions were along the lines of “favorite point you’ve won”, “court position you would try for a day”, “how do you wear your kneepads off court”, yadayadayada—

the questions didn’t really matter to you at the current moment. what caught your attention, of course, was your lovely boyfriend.

you watched his bright eyes as he excitedly talked to the camera and as they were trained on his teammates while he intently listened to their responses.

the same eyes that light up whenever he sees you, without fail. or the ones that glowed a warm amber when the afternoon sun hits them just right. ones you’ve seen on countless nights as bokuto lies on top of you with his chin softly resting on your chest, as he looks up at your face and his eyes dart over each and every feature on your face in utmost admiration.

and in the video he also smiles—a toothy and hearty smile where it’s so wide that little dimples appear at the sides of his face and some of his bottom teeth peek out from behind his bottom lip. his lips are rosy and full of life, just like him. and only you would know how soft they are, too, and the exact feeling of how they stretch into a content grin against your own lips when you kiss. it’s a smile you could never grow tired of.

everything about him is so charming. he’s adorable. some days you wish you could hide him from the world and keep him and his cuteness all to yourself.

and suddenly the urge just hits you—to hold him and hug him and smother him with affection. to cup his face in your hands and squish his cheeks so you can plant a big kiss on his lips. to nip the tip of his nose just to hopefully incite his laugh that brings music to your ears.

and guess what? you can do exactly that, right at this instant.

completely neglecting your brewing drink and leaving your phone laying flat on the countertop, you shuffle your way back through the apartment to you and bokuto’s shared bedroom.

you peek your head in and see he’s still out cold. the sunlight makes its way through the window blinds to cast shapes on your boyfriends bare chest, exposed by the sheets that he’s shoved down to his lower torso in his sleep.

a ray of light falls on his face, where his eyes are closed, his eyelashes brush against the tops his cheeks, and his mouth hangs open as he sleeps in and snores away.

the black and gray streaks of his hair are rendered messy and tussled as his head sinks into the pillow under it.

the other day you read about the phenomenon of, “cuteness aggression: desires to squeeze, crush, pinch, or even bite an object of our affection. scientists think it is a way we cope with intense positive emotions.”

yup. now you totally get it.

you approach his side of the bed and crawl on top of him, brushing your hands against his chest as you lean down to immediately start peppering his face in kisses. surely he’d wake up, and although you knew the previous night’s practice had taken a lot out of him and he deserved to sleep in for a little longer… the urge. the urge to gather him up in your arms with all the love in the world was simply just too strong.

his eyes not yet open, but his hands now moving to blindly search for your waist, his voice is groggy and rough as he mumbles, “this is an awesome way to start off my day.”

you let up with the face kisses for a moment and fight back a giggle as bokuto blinks one eye awake to get a good look at you first thing as he wakes up, “mornin’ gorgeous.”

too cute. butterflies fly around in your stomach while, firmly but gently, your hands go to hold his head in place as you resume to kiss him all over even more.

“what’s the occasion, baby?” he asks amidst being attacked by your displays of affection, his hands playing with the hem of his shirt on you.

“nothin’, just missed you,” you say between kisses, softly and just barely above a whisper.

“well i’m right here,” he smiles before stretching himself out under you, letting out a small whine as his body comes to before the day properly starts.

as he does this, you tap a finger on his nose and laugh when his face scrunches up in reaction, “kō, you look real cute in the morning, you know that?”

a sound of protest escapes from his throat as his arms wrap around you and he rolls you both over. now he hovers over you, and those pretty eyes gaze down at you. if only you could swim in those eyes and all the love they carry for you, forever.

but bokuto shifts so he can kiss you, and kiss you deep. when you part, you feel your heartbeat is racing and that maybe you don’t need caffeine this morning to wake up after all. not when your boyfriend is bokuto kōtarō, who brings something so inexplicably fulfilling to your life with each day you start waking up to him and his cute bedhead—his cute everything.

“not as much as you are all the time, cutie,” bokuto lazily argues and you lightheartedly roll your eyes with a small scoff.

now it’s his turn to “cope with intense positive emotions”, as you find yourself getting smothered with love—his love—in the messy sheets of your bed at around 9 in the morning.

[obitez]

Bean

Can also be read on AO3

The night before Chimney’s bachelor party, Buck had been running himself ragged. He had been running himself ragged all day really, but that night it started piling up on him. 

“How about you come over to my place?” Tommy asked as they were speaking to each other over the phone. “You can show me those cooking skills you were talking about?” 

“Really? Your place?” Buck asked. “It’s only been like a week and-” 

“Evan, it wasn’t even 24 hours after the coffee meetup [he still refused to call that a date] that we were having sex in your loft,” Tommy stopped him to say. “You invited me to your sister’s wedding. I think you seeing my place is a little overdue.” 

“Oh, well…” Buck trailed off, thinking. “Yeah, that sounds great then!” he smiled into the phone. Send me your address, I’ll grab some food at the grocery store and come right over! You don’t mind pasta right? I’d usually make a nice marinated chicken dish but this is kinda short notice and-”

“Sounds good,” Tommy said. “You get whatever you think will make a nice meal.”

An hour later, Buck pulled his Jeep into a driveway leading up to a single story bungalow right next to a gray pickup truck he had become very familiar with in the last month. He parked the Jeep and grabbed two grocery bags from the back seat as he walked up the short walkway to Tommy’s front door. 

As soon as he pressed the doorbell, Buck could hear the sound of a dog barking coming from somewhere inside the house. That was weird, he thought. Tommy hadn’t mentioned any dog in the time Buck had known him. Then, in the small window that lined the right side of the door, the face of a little dog appeared. 

The dog barked again, and - oh, it seemed Tommy did have a dog. Why had Tommy never mentioned a dog? 

Seconds later the door opened, and before Tommy could say anything the little dog tried to maneuver itself around Tommy’s legs and run up to Buck. 

“Oh Bean,” Tommy said as his eyes grew wide and he quickly leant down to scoop the dog into his arms before the dog tried to claw up Buck’s legs. Tommy made the action look so easy, so effortless… how? 

“You-” Buck blinked, his eyes focusing on the dog in Tommy’s arms. A dachshund, if he knew his breeds right, often called wiener or sausage dogs. This one was small, and could fit right into Tommy’s forearm. It, no he, had solid dark brown fur with a light brown snout and feet. The dog was cute. “You have a dog?” 

 “Yeah,” Tommy said, hitching the dog higher up in his arms. “His name is Bean. Bean, how about you say hi to Evan.” Bean only blinked his eyes up at him before turning his head around to look up at Tommy’s face. 

“You never mentioned him before,” Buck said, reaching a hand up for Bean to sniff him. Bean didn’t. 

“Really, I haven’t?” Tommy asked. When Buck shook his head no, Tommy thought back on it. “I guess I have been talking about him less often. Lucy and the others kept nagging me a couple months ago saying that it was impossible for me to not talk about him. So I tried to talk about him a little less and-” 

“You should talk about him more!” Buck said as he moved his hand to the top of Bean’s head, scratching his head fur. “How can you not talk about this little guy?” 

Bean leaned into Buck’s touch, blissed out. “Ph, he likes head scratches, doesn’t he?” 

“Yeah, he does,” Tommy said, a gentle smile on his lips. Buck could get used to seeing that smile on Tommy’s face. It looked good on him, really good. 

“So do you want to come in now?” Tommy asked, taking a step backwards. 

“Oh yeah,” Buck said as he held the bags of food up. “Got everything we need right here.”

“Well then let me show you my kitchen. 

🐕 🐕 🐕 🐕 🐕

Buck spread out the ingredients along the kitchen counter. The very nice kitchen counter. And oh boy did Tommy have a nice kitchen. Granite countertops, a six burner stove, even the sink had one of those fancy bendable faucets. It was fantastic, everything Buck wished he could have in his loft. 

As soon as Buck had opened the package of cheese, he could feel eyes on him. It wasn’t Tommy’s gaze, Buck knew what Tommy’s gaze felt like. Tommy was over in the living room though, looking for something. 

Buck’s eyes trailed down to the floor, and right around the corner of the counter that indicated the entrance to the kitchen, only seven inches above the floor were two eyes. 

Two large begging eyes. 

Two large begging eyes belonging to a very cute dachshund who certainly knew how to use them to his advantage. 

Buck turned back to the bag of cheese and grabbed a fingerful. He then squatted on the ground and held his arm out to the dog. “If you’re quiet,” he whispered. “You can have some. Don’t tell Tommy though, I don’t know if you’re supposed to eat this.” 

Bean slowly walked up to the outstretched cheese and gave it a quick sniff, before his small teeth came out and grabbed it from Buck's hand. Buck smiled as he watched the dog eat the small chunk of cheese, how could Tommy have kept this little dude a secret? 

“Found it!” Tommy then yelled out, coming back from the living room as Buck stood up and turned to the oven. 

“What were you looking for in there anyway?” Buck asked. 

Tommy came up behind Buck and wrapped his arms around his torso. “You’ll see later,” he said as he smiled into Buck’s neck. 

As Tommy leant over Buck’s shoulder, looking down at what he was cooking on the stove, they both heard a whining come from the floor below them. Buck looked down, only a step away from both of them stood Bean, staring up at them with his begging and pleading eyes. 

“What is it?” Tommy asked the dog. “Are you hungry?” 

The dog stomped one of his little paws, or he tried to, Buck assumed, it wasn’t that effective when his paw was only a fraction the size of Buck’s hand. 

Tommy chuckled. “I’ll feed you when our dinner is ready.”

Bean obviously hadn’t been satisfied with that answer as he gave another stomp and a small bark. 

Even though Buck wasn’t looking at Tommy, he could feel Tommy roll his eyes at his dog. “Fine,” Tommy sighed as he grabbed a bit of the cheese in one of the bowls on the counter. “I’ll give you some cheese now if you can leave us alone for ten minutes.” 

Buck blinked as he watched Tommy give Bean a piece of cheese. Oh, oh…

That dog had played Buck… oh he was smart. 

[pickleking8]

13 - Adoption Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be - Chapter 13

Word Count: 1258

Ao3 Link

Previous - Masterpost

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Daniel Fenton was a very unlucky boy. That was an established fact. Quite frankly, Danny found himself inclined to agree with that fact, given the overall trend of his life. Or, at least, that’s likely what he would think, if he wasn’t preoccupied at the moment. 

The buzzing was quieter, now. After weeks of sitting, watching day turn into night and into day again through the gilded bars on his window, feeling the worms that were crawling behind his eyes, the rot, the decay that settled into his bones and made them brittle, the dust that settled like a fine layer of moss dotting his skin, turning his eyelashes gray with sediment. Blood bubbled and flowed, sluggish as ichor, tainted green instead of proper gold. 

They tried. Oh, they tried so hard to act as if they cared, to act as if they were concerned with the way he grew still and silent, the blankets beneath him sewn to his skin. They brought him food, and drink, and shook him and yelled at him and cried at him, calling him a falsehood all the while, all as if they had not spread the spores of the very rot that consumed him, as if they did not breathe tainted air from their putrid mouths that was too hot, too close, too warm and alive and encompassing, as if those embers didn’t fly, didn’t crawl their way under his skin and turn his insides soft and pliant, old with apathy. As if. 

All the while, as the decay found its way into every crack and crevice of his broken body, his mind sharpened, his anger grew, as did the pool of ectoplasm, that power, filling up his core bit by bit, by bit, by bit. Drops in an ocean. 

It had been weeks. His core was almost full, he was almost there. 

Tonight, I’ll be ready, he thinks, slowly, not sure whether it’s a fact, a truth said without hesitation, or something he’s trying desperately to convince himself of.  He smiled, finally, a crooked and tiny thing, and blinked, and dust trickled off his cheeks and eyelashes, to join the layers turning his lap grimy and gray. 

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Jasmine Fenton was not an angry person. At least, that’s what people said. No, she was kind, and smart, and “going great places” and “not like that brother of hers”. 

In reality, Jasmine Fenton was very angry. 

See, here’s the thing about anger, that many people don’t know, because many people (luckily, luckily, how lucky they are) haven’t had the need to be angry, the need to snarl and fight and rage, the need to protect themselves, their friends, their families, from anything and everything. 

Anger boils, that’s the thing. 

In fact, it frothes, and bubbles, and goes over the pot, spilling onto the countertop and sink, making flames splutter and fizzle and pop, and making them angry too. Anger fills you up and then spills out, from tear-laden eyes and biting words from a worried mouth. Through the fingertips, often, harsh patterns wearing their way into the countertop or doors slammed shut or nails digging into palms. 

Aconite’s palms are rough now, calloused, from weeks of lit fires and swung pipes and drawn guns, weeks of fingernails, glass-edged, cutting into already-broken flesh. 

Aconite, Jazz thinks, holds the anger that spills out of her. Aconite utilizes Jazz’s anger, methodises it, makes it much more useful. Makes it a weapon, a sword, steel tipped and fire forged, and a shield as well, solid and sturdy and holding everything else at bay. 

Aconite’s anger makes her eyes sharp and cold, makes the purple in her suit glow a sickly, deadly shade, makes her fires spread far and fast.

….Her ears still rung, from the screams, the fire, or the anger, she didn’t know which. 

Whatever. 

Danny’s still gone. GIW are still standing. The pot’s still boiling over.

Aconite is made of anger, and anger makes Aconite. 

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Danny stands, joints creaking as if predicting the biggest hurricane of the century, dust falling like a cape from his shoulders, different bits of decay seeping from his skin, his bones, and falling to the floor. His neck pops as he turns to look at the clock, small red numbers blinking back at him, declaring it to be just after three am. Witching hour, he’s strongest now, power surging up like high tide. 

He looks at the bars, eyes the barest hint of rust peeking through the gilding of paint. The iron would hurt to phase through.

He goes through the wall instead. It’s an odd sensation, it always is, as if he was weightless, deep in an ice-cold lake, the pressure of the water compressing him tightly from all sides. It should have been claustrophobic, but it wasn’t. Instead, it felt like an expanse, like open sky on top of a mountain, or ocean stretching for miles. Like he could go anywhere, despite how small the enormity of it made him feel.

Frankly, Danny was perfectly fine with going anywhere, as long as it wasn’t here. On the other side of the wall, now, he makes use of the bars, gripping them tightly as he prepares to fall. Ready, this time, not haplessly dangling, but with feet planted firmly against the wall, and a body tense: ready to twist and turn and deliver him safely to the ground. Concentrating, his form flickers, sputters, a candle on the verge of fading, before he winks away from sight all together.  

His feet squelch as he lands in the mud below, toes digging into the earth, and he feels tethered for the first time in weeks. For too long he was simply drifting, but now, as the soles of his feet feel twigs and dirt, and his fingertips touch over a veined and lumpy leaf, he cannot help but feel hope surge in his chest, in his core. 

No time, go, run, RUN, and his hope spurs his body into action, taking off across the lawn, perfectly trimmed grass ripped out and destroyed in his wake. He sees the wall, overgrown ivy tumbling down it, grabs the fuzzy tendrils and hauls himself over. 

Keep running. Just keep running. 

Feet pound against asphalt, bare, turning bloody as the sharp crags of Gotham’s streets take their toll. He checks his hand, and sees nothing but the grimy street below it. Invisible, still. Good.

Farther. You have to go farther. FARTHER. 

Heaving, laboured breathing, even though he doesn’t need it. Air filling his lungs too fast, too sharp, before being expelled even faster. Choking on the cold atmosphere. 

The facts, Danny, focus on the facts. That’s nitrogen, oxygen, and argon you’re suffocating on. 

He’s flickering again. Shit. Shit.

There! An alley. Inconspicuous, dark, filled with debris. He turns, quickly, hitting his shoulder on the wall and flashing into sight before pulling the wash of invisibility back over himself, ducking behind some overfilled, slimy dumpster. 

He sits against the wall, panting silently, listening. 

…Nothing. 

No shouts. No footsteps. No menacing calls. Not even a whisper carried on the light, chilly breeze. 

He did it. I did it. He’s out. I’m out!

Relief washes over him, cascading down, and he feels cleansed, the rot, debris, and decay slowly trickling away. 

Throws his head back. Sighs, just a small huff of air, before falling backwards into the space between the inner and outer wall of the brick building he had leaned against. 

He lies there, in the darkness, staring up into the void. 

Free.

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Masterpost

Taglist: @tkiesai, @simplestoryteller

Hey, everyone! I know it's been a while since I updated, and I honestly don't have an excuse, it just felt like nothing I wrote was good enough, so I kind of abandoned it. I wasn't planning on updating again, sort of ever. However, several lovely people left comments on the last chapter, expressing how much they would enjoy an update, and it prompted me to go back and look at my docs. It turns out I actually really like what I'd written for this chapter, so I decided to finish it out and post it! I can honestly say that I'm feeling much more invested in the story again, so perhaps this will lead to me actually finishing it. Though I think I've said that every time I update, so ya know. We'll see.

Anyway, I hope that you guys like this chapter! I was really inspired by the book 100 Years of Solitude for the tone of the first bit of the chapter, and it was fun to try out that sort of style. The last part of the chapter intentionally was made up of shorter, choppier sentences to try and evoke Danny's stream of thought as he's running and make it a bit more immersive/real, but idk how that came across. I also tried to include a lot of callbacks to the first couple of chapters, I thought it would be a cool full circle sort of thing. Overall, I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you guys enjoyed it! Thank you for reading!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Above is the front and back of a unique 1968 Contemporary home in Carlisle, Massachusetts. 3bd 2.5ba listed at $1.375M.

Look at the cute little porch there is as you enter the home. It could be a little conservatory or potting room. 

The living room has lovely windows and a high pitched ceiling.

Beautiful stone wall and fireplace with a mezzanine above. 

A couple steps go up to the formal dining room. Love the big lacy ceiling medallion.

Very large kitchen has lovely pale gray cabinetry and quartz countertops.

Open concept family room off the kitchen.

4 people can fit around the counter for everyday dining.

There’s another stone fireplace in the family room.

A short hallway with a window seat leads to the bedrooms.

The main bedroom has a stone fireplace as well. 

There’s room for a small desk on the mezzanine.

Isn’t this a beautiful sink in the main bath?

Secondary bedroom and bath are nice.

And, the 3rd bd. is used as a children’s room and also has a nice bath.

Look at the nice sunroom in the back of the house.

Plus, there’s a small indoor terrace over it.

And, a family room in the basement.

There’s a large garden and a shed.

The home is on 2.74 acres of land.

https://www.redfin.com/MA/Carlisle/481-Curve-St-01741/home/8468831

[but-what-if-we]

Cloudy

The sky was gray when Larger Form awoke, foreshadowing the mood of the day. LF’s room was modest in size, they didn't need much, decorated with movie posters of some of their favorites, a few floating shelves displaying trinkets and oddities with the two small bookshelves next to the doorframe. Everything in the room was primarily dark colors punctuated by glass or the neon lights of the pc on the black glass desk situated in the corner near the large window. Mustering the will to move out of bed, LF steps to the window moving aside the sheer curtains taking in the light, but darkening gray sky.

Hmmm, soup day.

Moving into the black and steel colored kitchen, LF begins to assemble the necessary pots they would need to make their own broth. Opening the cabinet they pause, standing to view over the island countertop to look into the living room for any signs of the typical “nest” of the Smaller Form. Seeing no signs of a Switch, drawing tablet, phone charger, or typical blankets LF reaches down into the cabinets noisily removing a large pot, placing it on the electric stove top built into the island countertop in the center of the kitchen. Turning to the coffee maker next to the fridge LF presses a couple of buttons before grabbing their favorite mug hanging from the hooks affixed to the underside of the cabinets that lined the walls above the sink. Leaning against the sink as they wait for their coffee to finish brewing, LF’s gaze is locked onto another mug hanging from the hooks. This mug belonged to Smaller Form and as they looked at this mug they couldn't help but become lost in thought.

How did I get here? How did my life manage to turn out this way? What did I do to deserve this bliss?

Each thought is punctuated by vivid memories that do their best to serve those questions answers but a constant in each memory is the Smaller Form. When they had first met LF was not in a good place with themself, struggling with anxiety, depression, and their identity. SF became a pillar of positivity in LF’s life showing them that there was more out there and being there by LF’s side while they did the hard work of self improvement and discovery. In a way SF dragged LF out of their pit of isolation and doubt, showing them light once again and since then they have always been friends. A smirk slides across LF’s face as they bask in fond memories of days and  years gone by filled with adventures, exciting and mundane with SF, memories they wouldn't trade for anything in existence.

In a soft warm mound of blankets Smaller Form shifts, maneuvering their head out of an opening in the mass of cloth. Blinking sleepy eyes they look around in an attempt to understand what is different about their surroundings. How did they end up on the floor? Didn't they lay down in bed last night? The gray cloudy sky did little to illuminate the pastel colored room of SF but the nightstand lamp was enough for the moment. Unwrapping themself from the mound of cloth, SF could already smell the bitter scent of coffee in the air signaling that LF was also awake, they put on a pair of shorts and a fresh oversized t-shirt before grabbing their phone and heading into their bathroom for the morning routine. Smaller Form looking into the mirror while brushing their teeth takes a moment to look at one of the decorations that dot the edges and corners of the large mirror. One in particular stands out this morning, a sticker of a single open eye colored neon green, a gift from LF in the early days of their friendship and a reminder that SF can just be themself regardless of who is beholding them. 

With the sticker fresh in their mind SF makes their way into the living room, seeing LF standing unmoving leaning against the sink staring at the different mugs hanging from the decorative hooks above the sink. It isn't all that uncommon for LF to be lost in thought but SF always thought it was a bit creepy watching LF stay so completely still that their body would ever so slightly start to sway.  The tile of the kitchen was cold against SF’s bare feet as they moved next to LF, placeing a hand on the small of their back, something that always seemed to bring LF back to earth. Seeing the small smirk on LF’s face turn into a full smile quelled any fears that they might be subject to bad thoughts, the small touch turning into a hug from the back. Pressing themself into the softness of LF’s body, SF thinks about how lucky they are to have a friend so devoted to them as to follow them anywhere, always being here for them when they are needed, and understanding when space is needed. The caring between them was strong, so strong that to an outside observer it might appear that they were in a romantic relationship but in reality that is not the kind of relationship they had. What they had together was enough. 

Instinctively at the familiar touch of SF, LF turns in the hug so that they might return embrace with embrace, resting their cheek momentarily atop SF’s head before replacing their cheek with a kiss. 

“Good morning, did you sleep well?”

Straightening LF reaches to grab the mug they had been transfixed by moments ago, placing it next to a tin of SF’s favorite hot chocolate. It was from a small locally owned bakery, one that LF had never heard of and one that they had yet been able to find. The tin was black metal with the only branding for the bakery being a pink circle with a large toothy smile. 

“Floor”, the muffled voice of SF warm against LF’s chest.

Glancing around LF’s ribcage, SF spots the pink smile of their favorite hot chocolate, smiling as they return their face into the chest of LF squeezing a little tighter. SF has always been amazed by LF’s ability so seemingly feel when they were having an off or “goopy” day but SF knew how observant tends to be. So observant that they sometimes are blind to what is going on in themself but SF understood LF enough to know they have a process just like they had their own to work through things. They both had similar struggles in identity, mental health, and sexuality though none of these struggles were exactly the same for the both of them , they were close enough that discussing what they had learned, thoughts and feelings had good insights for their own experiences. One of the best things about LF was that SF always felt seen.

“Have you seen outside? It looks like how I feel right now” SF says, reaching a hand up to place on LF’s cheek, motioning for them to lower themself. The kiss SF plants on LF’s neck could be described as less “kiss” and more “prelude to biting” but that was normal for them. Kissing was something the two of them discussed, often both having different views on the action but were able to form boundaries from those discussions.

“Let me finish this” SF says motioning to the hot chocolate in progress, “could you go into my room and grab my macbook for me? I need to answer some emails before it gets any later .” Releasing LF, SF moves around them to finish the enticing warm drink. 

“Of course” LF says, placing another kiss atop SF’s head. Walking down the hallway into the blue pastel colored room LF immediately knew his task was going to be more difficult than anticipated. SF wasn’t what you would consider tidy but they are very clean so the mass of organized chaos hiding the macbook and charger LF is looking for is buried somewhere in this mass of clothes and blankets. Clothes baskets piled high placed at the end of SF’s bed, stacks of books flanking either side of the wooden desk near the window, sweatshirts and hoodies mixed with blankets covering the floor and bed, the room was disorganized to say the least but well cared for. Finding the charger was easy enough as it was plugged into the wall but following the cord into a bundle of blankets on the floor revealed no macbook. Collecting the charger and looking around, LF takes in all of the memories SF has on display in their room. They move over to the wooden desk picking up a framed photo of SF and LF cheek to cheek both with big joyful smiles, taken the day they had first met all those years ago.  Once again lost in thought, LF didn’t perceive the approach of  SF. 

Steaming mug in one hand and macbook held in the other, SF watches the watcher lost in thought again. Reminiscing about the past no doubt.

“I remember that day like it was yesterday, we were both so shy to finally meet each other but it took you so long to get comfortable” SF teasingly giggles before taking a sip of their hot chocolate. “ That day is a memory I will always keep close to my heart” SF says, putting their mug and macbook on a shelf next to them. Sidling up next to LF, SF intertwines their arms together placing a small kiss on the back of LF’s hand. “ It was a cloudy day like today and right after the picture it started to drizzle on us so we had to duck into that pavilion that was nearby. Being stuck in that rain like we were was one of the best parts of that day, listening to the rain fall around us while we talked about us, our dreams, the future, and just nurtured the bond we had. It was lovely.”

Returning the photo to its place on the desk, LF wraps their arms around SF for a short but meaningful and impassioned hug. “I remember crying a lot during that conversation in the rain. I was so used to watching that I didn't realize how good it would feel to be seen even though at first it was a little uncomfortable to realize I was in the spotlight for once but with you that spotlight felt safe.” LF tries unsuccessfully to hide the wobble in their voice as the memory of that emotionally charged moment washes over them as if to summon the emotions that were felt in the moment.

SF holds tight to LF for a moment before letting go to reclaim the items they had sat down on the nearby shelf but as they do their stomach gives off a low rumble, impressive for one of their small size. 

“Oof, I need to get something in me before Iend up eating you” SF says, jokingly to LF as they move to leave the SF’s room.

“I would let you eat me as long as I can watch,” LF says, wide smile on their face.

[sincerelyaudri]

The directions to the studio aren't hard to follow. It's, maybe, ten-ish minutes from your apartment by car, fifteen if you walk. It's tucked in between a small cafe and what looks to be a yoga studio. You don't bother peering through the adjacent windows to check.

Inside feels...calm. You step through the glass door, The Wild Kiln scrawled in somewhat messy calligraphy across the window. It also sports details of the opening times - 9am to 4pm every day. You check your phone, if only to make sure you've arrived within opening hours (you realize as you do this that obviously you have, otherwise the door wouldn't open). It's 10:14am. You're good.

Cleo Sol's voice greets you, some sweet, reassuring number that pairs well with the vanilla and honey scent that hangs in the air. Amongst it the place feels warm and inviting, small chalkboard signs hung around the place with bits and pieces of information - class times, reminders to clean up, studio policies and so forth. You think it's a nice place for you to come one day and maybe try your hand at making a bowl.

A voice pulls you from your trawling thoughts. It's warm, somewhat soft though it carries itself firm over the ambiance of the room. There's a hint of an accent- you can tell it's polished itself for easy understanding, but the traits of a mother tongue still seep through the keys and tones of her words.

"Hello! Welcome to the Wild Kiln! Can I assist you with anything?"

The person the voice belongs to sits near the middle of the store. The sun pours through the back windows over her earthen skin, tones muted and brilliant yet warm as the vases and pots that decorate the countertops behind her. She looks up at you, sweat on her darkened brow, deep eyes wide and alive. A small inviting smile rests on her face characterized by thick lips. You think she looks kind, if a little young.

"I'm looking for Audrey?" You find yourself saying. Your voice feels a little foreign, as if you've spoken without realizing it. The girl doesn't seem to notice your temporary surprise as she straightens up. You can see smudges of teracotta over her apron and bare knees, jeans shorts cuffed above the smooth skin, a beige shirt rolled up to her elbows.

"Oh, that's me!" She beams. "Let me guess...Keisuke sent you? Or was it Ren? Ah- Nirei? You know what, it doesn't matter. I've got some time before my next class rolls in. Whatcha need?"

— MEET AUDREY.

"You were expecting someone older? Well how young do I look?" Her laugh rings through the store full and free. It's accompanied by running water, Audrey stood by the sink, gently washing slip from her hands. You can see pretty colors of pink and yellow adorning her fingertips, marred only by dulcet grays of clay. She looks over her shoulder at you and sports a crooked smile, enough that you can just faintly see the gap in her front teeth and notice the mole above her lip. "I'm twenty-four, love. Turning twenty-five in a few months. I tend to get that a lot though, the whole younger than I am thing. I used to get mad about it but I guess that's a good thing, huh?"

— WHAT DO YOU DO FOR WORK?

"I own this place! This is technically my job. I mean, I'm still in college and all that, and I do a few things on the side but this is my main job." She beams proudly. There's light in her eyes, a sense of unbridled pride of what she's accomplished. "Aside from this though? I work in social media management. That's why those guys call me their assistant - technically I kind of am. But we're friends first and foremost."

— WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?

She leans against the countertop and crosses her arms over her chest. Like this you can notice a few more things - she's somewhat tall and a little heavy set, pudge of her tummy pressing through her shirt. The beige button up hangs open, revealing a soft yellow shirt beneath that's ridden up to her belly button. You try your best not to look at the unintentional sliver of skin. "I love music. A lot. I mean, I love the arts - I was always an art student growing up. Did my best in English Language and Literature, Art class, the works. It's just my thing. Never stopped...so for hobbies, I'd say anything artistic. Pottery of course, and I do paint from time to time but I like listening to music. I don't go to very many shows but I would like to. It looks like a good time. Other than that? I like cooking and baking, and doing crafts. Jewelry making, trinket making, that kind of stuff."

— WHAT ABOUT ROMANCE?

Her brow raises, her gaze on the ceiling at first. For a moment you think you've offended her, but then the corners of her mouth twitch and you swear you're imagining color on her cheeks. It's not there, of course - her skin tone disallows it, but the shift in her demeanor is evidence of a blush enough. She tries to play it off by playing with her hair, of which you just notice is styled in long braids, almost like small ropes that hang down past her waist. The ends are decorated in wooden beads, gold clips dotted about closer to her scalp.

"I mean, what about it?" Her voice takes on an octave a smidge higher. It's cute, and you can't help half smirking at her tone. "I don't give it that much thought. I'm not looking for anyone or anything. If you're asking if I'm a hopeless romantic, the answer is yes. But that's just common isn't it? Aren't we all?"

— WHAT ABOUT KINKS?

Her eyes pop open now, brown as coffee and wide as a doe's. It elicits a laugh from you, one that earns you a playful huff as she turns on the heel of her sandals and walks towards the far corner of the store. There's a little tea and coffee station set up, one that she rushes to busy herself with if only to save her ego.

"I'm not even gonna answer that one." She says. You can hear the blush in her voice at this point. It makes you giggle harder. "That's for me to know and you to maybe find out. No promises! Now stop laughing at me. Do you want coffee or tea?"

[lohazewrites]

Guess I'm in a sharing mood

"She couldn’t wait to share the news.

The house was quiet, the lamp in the front foyer was on and she could see that the light over the kitchen sink was on too, but it didn’t appear that anyone was home. She hung her bag and her jacket in the front closet and set her keys in the bowl on the table. As she made her way down the hall, past the stairs, and into the kitchen, she remembered Austin’s text. Not wishing her luck but telling her that he would be home late – whatever that meant.

She stood alone in the quiet, open kitchen. The only noise the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional car that passed down the quiet residential street. The large window over the kitchen sink looked out into the backyard where the evening sun was softly illuminating the magnificent row of white hydrangeas that were starting to turn a pale pink as the Fall temperatures settled in. The kitchen had an incandescent glow from the sun gleaming on the white marble countertops and soft gray of the cabinets.

Trying not to dwell at the curdling feeling in her stomach from thinking about his text, she grabbed a bottle of red and poured herself a glass of wine to settle into the den. Her sanctuary.

The den was the room that made her fall in love with the house. It was small and secluded away from the main entertaining areas of the house – the kitchen, living room and dining room. The wall of floor to ceiling paneled windows that faced south gave the room ample natural light throughout the day, while the opposite wall had floor to ceiling bookshelves. It was cozy but modern – the sage green walls lent a softness that contrasted with the leather arm chairs and dark wood.

She turned on the fireplace with the press of a button and settled into one of the armchairs. Kicking off her heels and resting her feet on the ottoman, she leaned back into the chair and closed her eyes. Taking a few slow and controlled deep breaths to center herself. She had wanted to come home and share the news, but despite what the ring on her finger indicated, she had no one to come home too. And would he even share in the celebration of the news or just treat it as another detail of her day?"

[dedfandom-xwx]

”Something In The Water - a OC lore story” (TW: TRAUMA/ VIOLENCE/ GORE)

[Chapter 1- A Guilty Conscience]

It was late.

It was cold.

It was dark.

It was…

Tick sprang awake. Shaking worse than a leaf in a hurricane. His stomach felt like it could explode with butterflies, only the butterflies felt more like pests than any good bug. More like wasps swarming an enemy who attacked their hive. 

He sat up against the headboard of his bed. His chest rising and falling with every quick breath he took. He stared at the wall as thoughts flooded his brain like a tidal wave, completely drenching every happy thought or conscience with guilt and sorrow. 

He took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and exhaled with a sigh. He turned on his bedside lamp and stood up, slipping on his pair of rabbit slippers (which he never let anyone see), putting on his glasses, and draping a quilt over his shoulder. He paced for a second, his tail swaying with every step he took.

He stared at his door for a moment before going out to the kitchen to fill a cup with water and hopefully ease this anxious feeling he had. Dragging his feet sleepily across the hardwood floors. Counting how many steps it took.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven….

He’d always loved to count things. Lights, windows, cups, anything he could really. It always brought a sense of calmness to him. A sense of certainty. He was comforted by knowing if things had changed, and if they hadn’t, it made him feel safe. Secure.

He dragged his hand along the deep gray wall, before it shifted to a navy blue when he turned the corner. Stepping onto the cold, clean, glossy, white tiles of the kitchen. Walking past a cart of snacks before he reached the sink.

He grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it with water. He looked out the window over the sink, the rain splatting against the window.

Drip.

Drop.

He took a drink, and set it aside. Watching the rainfall in the glowing moonlight of the night. He gripped the counter, sighing and tilting his head down. The chilly granite countertops biting at his fingertips.

He took a minute to think. Why did that dream leave him feeling so uneasy? It wasn’t uncommon for him to have dreams about his past, but this one was different. Painful. Like he could physically feel his body ache in the same manner that he was hurt in the dream.

He could feel the headache the black eye left behind, the blood dripping from his nose, the way his knuckles were bruised yellow and blue, the way his nails separated from his flesh as he clawed at the concrete in hopes of crawling away. 

The hair on his neck stood up, this feeling… so familiar, yet so unrecognizable. His mind raced as he thought about the pain and agony. Whatever this twisted memory was, whether it had actually happened or if it was something his mind conjured up, he couldn’t tell, it didn't matter, nonetheless. Because he wanted the same thing either way. 

For it to leave his head, and give him peace of mind for the night.

[night-dark-woods]

ID. An illustration of two women in a kitchen, done in a style with thin precise lineart and vibrant flat colors, textured like a risograph. One sits at the small console table serving as a kitchen island, a mostly empty glass of homemade lemonade in front of her next to a piece of paper with a diagram of a landscape. She has warm brown skin, short wavy black hair, and is wearing a teal t-shirt that says "Blue Stone Lawn Care," light green cargo pants with reinforced knees, and brown work boots. Her keys are on a carabiner clipped to her belt loop. She is gesturing as she talks to the other woman, who leans back against the counter, holding a pitcher of lemonade and smiling while holding eye contact with the woman at the table. Her hair is gray, her skin a lighter brown, and she wears a patterned orange shawl over a high-necked red knit dress, belted with a thin brown belt that matches her strappy shoes. The kitchen has a red and cream checked tile floor, dark wood lower cabinets, dark green countertops, seafoam subway tiles on the wall, kelly green upper cabinets with glass doors, through which assorted glassware can be seen. Behind the farmhouse sink is an arched stained glass window, through which an overgrown garden can be seen. Ivy tendrils grow through the edge of the window into the kitchen. End ID.

landscaping consultation 🌿

[regalokitchens95]

Best Features for a Stylish Modular Kitchen Design

Source of info: https://www.modularkitchendesign.co.in/blog/best-features-for-a-stylish-modular-kitchen-design

Introduction

Discover the most suitable features for a trendy modular kitchen design that smoothly mixes usefulness and beauty. To make the best usage of your space, use stylish cabinets, smart storage solutions, and modern appliances. To create a trendy style kitchen, choose quality materials, strong color palettes, and creative layouts. Natural light and comfortable layouts complete out the look and feel, transforming your kitchen into a perfect balance of functionality and beauty.

1. Customizable Layouts

The concept is used as a basis for a trendy modular kitchen design. Popular layouts include L-shaped, U-shaped, straight, parallel, and island kitchens. These layouts have the goal to increase performance, with every kind offering unique benefits. L-shaped kitchens, for example, are best suited to smaller spaces, but island kitchens work well in bigger settings, providing more countertop space and seating. Customizing the layout to meet your needs offers an even mix of style and performance.

2. Premium Materials

The choice of materials is important for achieving a fashionable appearance. High-quality countertops materials, including quartz, granite, or marble, and style laminates, acrylic, or glass for the cabinet finishes are beautiful and last long. Pick materials that will be easy to maintain and that can withstand heat, moisture, and stains in order to maintain your kitchen as beautiful as the day it was installed for a long time.

3. Innovative Storage Solutions

Smart storage is a key feature of modular kitchen design. Pull-out drawers, corner units, vertical shelves, and built-in racks all help to make the best use of available space. Think about installing soft-close drawers, rotating units, and tall cabinets to improve usefulness while maintaining a clean and orderly appearance. Effective storage solutions reduce mess, making the design features shine out.

4. Efficient Work Triangle

The work triangle idea, which connects the refrigerator, stove, and sink, plays a role in a well-planned kitchen. Making sure these three regions are easily accessible increases workflow and simplifies cooking. A modern modular kitchen design connects this concept softly, making sure both practical and artistic balance.

5. Trendy Color Palettes

The color scheme you select sets the mood for your kitchen's overall design. Basic colors such as white, gray, and brown express unchanging beauty, yet bright colors such as navy blue, emerald green, or mustard yellow can stand out. Two-tone combinations, such as white and wood or opposing colors, provide depth and uniqueness. Create a unified color that matches the rest of your home's design.

6. High-Tech Appliances

Modern modular kitchen design concepts often include advanced tools smoothly. Built-in ovens, induction cooktops, smart refrigerators, and dishwashers not only add comfort but also help to a clean, modern look. hiding appliances within cabinets or using combined designs results in an organized and clean design.

7. Ample Lighting

Lighting is a key component of a trendy modular kitchen design. Layered lighting, which includes natural, task, and decorative lights, has the possibility to greatly change a place. Pendant lighting over the island, LED strip lights under the cabinets, and decorative fixtures improve both practicality and style. Natural light is also important, so think about adding wide windows or skylights to brighten up the space.

8. Open Shelving

While closed cabinets are required for storage, using open shelves provides a sense of modernism and attractiveness. Displaying fashionable furniture, cookbooks, or potted plants on these shelves gives an inviting and customized atmosphere. Simply keep the objects shown nicely sorted to avoid a crowded impression.

9. Splash of Texture and Patterns

Textures and patterns can improve your modular kitchen design. Textured walls, patterned tiles, and wooden elements provide attractiveness and charm. A pattern tile design or a stone-textured wall, for example, might serve as the kitchen's main point, increasing its overall value.

10. Eco-Friendly Features

In modular kitchen design, environmental quality is becoming increasingly important. The various eco-friendly materials, energy-saver appliances and water-saving installations not only keep the environment low when it comes to your home; they also uniquely make your kitchen look modern in style. From recycled wood materials to bamboo counters and LED light illuminations, environmental friendliness exists.

Conclusion

A trendy modular kitchen design is a perfect combination of benefit, looks, and personalization. By using these qualities, you can design a room that not only matches your cooking requirements but also improves the beauty of your house. The choices for smart storage solutions and high-tech appliances are many, especially with modern shades of colors and eco-friendly materials. With careful design and attention to detail, your modular kitchen design can turn into the central attraction of your house, releasing both style and practicality.

[larrydempsey]

“The Birthday Wish, Part One”

“Make a wish and blow out the candles, Stanley!”     Sitting next to his mother on one side of the small, round green-speckled table, Stanley hunched over his small, round chocolate birthday cake decorated with white frosting, rainbow sprinkles, and eight orange candles.  He stared at the flickering candles with his wide blue eyes and then clamped his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and blew them out.     “What did you wish for?” asked Stanley’s mother, sitting to the left of her son in the cramped kitchen, which smelled of warm cake and candle smoke.     “Aww, mom!  You know it won't come true if I tell you.”     “I know.  I just wanted to see if I could get it out of you,” she said, tousling Stanley’s short, brown hair.  “It’s okay.  I know what you wished for.  You wished for a…”     “Don’t say it out loud, or it won’t come true!”     “Oops!  Sorry.”     Stanley slumped down in his chair and sighed.     “It will come true someday.  When we get more money and we’re doing better, you’ll get your wish.  I promise.”     “I hope so,” Stanley mumbled, his chin on his chest.     “But right now, it’s time for you to get to school,” said Stanley’s mother, looking at the clock on the thin white wall to the right of the sink and the window.  “It’s the last day of the year.  That must be pretty exciting.  Summer vacation.  Going swimming.  Riding your bike.  Won’t that be fun?”     “I guess.”     “On your way, then, or you’ll be late.  I have to get dressed and get to the hospital, or I’ll be late too.  Remember, I’m getting off work early today.  I’ll be picking you up from school so we can go out for your birthday dinner.  Decide where you want to go.”     Stanley sat unmoving at the kitchen table, oblivious that his mother was talking to him.  He stared vacantly at the sunlight reflecting off the pale green cupboards and countertops.     “C’mon, Stanley!  Let’s go!  We’ll have a piece of your cake when we get home tonight,” said Stanley’s mother, pulling her son out of the chair and helping him put his dark blue backpack on his short, scrawny body.  “Okay?”     “Okay.”      After kissing Stanley on the top of his head, his mother pushed him out of the kitchen, across the wood-paneled living room, and out the front door.     “Have a good day, Stanley!  Be careful!”     “I will,” he said, standing on the small square concrete step as the heavy wooden door slammed closed behind him.     Stanley closed the screen door and then walked around to the north side of the house.  There he found his green bicycle, complete with a yellow banana seat, leaning against the garage.  He got on the bike, rode down the short downward slope in the concrete driveway, rounded his silver, dented mailbox, and then started pedaling up the sidewalk toward school.

Later that afternoon, Stanley walked his bicycle across the school grounds towards his mother’s scratched and rusted two-door light blue hatchback.  The car was parked alongside the sidewalk in the school’s parking lot, one in a long line of other parents’ cars.     As Stanley reached his mother’s car, dark gray clouds above him started to sprinkle.  The ground was starting to get wet, as faint thunder could be heard in the distance.  After putting his bike in the back of the car, he pulled the hatch door down, slamming it closed.  Stanley walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, the door making a loud squealing sound as he did.     “There’s the birthday boy!  Get in before it starts raining!”     Stanley took off his backpack, got in the car, and pulled the door closed, the door squealing even louder the second time.  He put his backpack on his lap and wrapped his arms around it.     “How was your last day of school?”     “Fine,” Stanley replied.     “That good, huh?” said Stanley’s mother, rolling her eyes.  “Don’t forget to buckle up.”     Stanley put his backpack on the floor and then reached for the seatbelt above and behind his right shoulder.  He pulled it across his chest and then locked it in place, to the left of his left leg.     “Have you decided where you want to eat?” she asked.     “I dunno.”     His mother started the car, turned on the windshield wipers, and then slowly drove across the school parking lot, stopping once she reached the edge of the street.     “How about Poppy’s?  Pizza’s your favorite.”     “I guess,” said Stanley, turning his head to watch raindrops slowly trickle down the passenger side window.     “Poppy’s Pizza Palace, it is!”     After looking both ways and seeing that no traffic was coming from either direction, Stanley’s mother slowly pulled her car out onto the street.     “This isn’t the way to Poppy’s!” exclaimed Stanley.  “You’re going the wrong way!”     “Oh, I forgot to tell you that I have to make another stop first.  It won’t take long.”

The rain was coming down much harder as Stanley and his mother drove down the street.  Stanley’s mother turned the car’s windshield wipers up to “high,” but it was still hard to see.     “Where are we going?” asked Stanley, trying to see out his window.     “You’ll see,” his mother replied.     After driving for fifteen minutes, Stanley began to wonder where his mother could possibly be taking them.  He’d never seen this part of town before.  Every street, every sign, and every building were new to him.  The places most familiar to Stanley were his school, the park, the beach, and the neighborhood where he lived.  He never ventured much further than that.     “Are we almost there?”     “Almost,” responded his mother with a sly grin.  “We’re getting close.”

A few minutes later, Stanley’s mother slowed her car near the entrance to the local animal shelter.  She lifted the car’s turn signal and pulled the car into the shelter’s parking lot.     As the car inched its way across the wet asphalt, Stanley’s eyes widened and his pulse quickened.     “Wait a minute!” said Stanley as goosebumps broke out all over his body.     Stanley’s mother pulled her car into one of the parking spaces near the front doors, put it in “Park,” and turned it off.     “Does this mean…” Stanley started to ask over the sound of the rain beating on the car’s rusted roof.     “I know how miserable you’ve been lately, Stanley,” she said, turning to look at her son.     “Are we going to…  Are we…?”     “They gave me a raise at the hospital last month.  I didn’t want to tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise for your birthday.”     “We’re really going to…?  I mean, really?”     “Since your father died, I know it hasn’t been easy for you.  It hasn’t been easy for either of us.  And since there aren’t any other kids in our neighborhood for you to play with, I realized how important it is for you to have a companion.  I’m just sorry it took so long.”     “You mean it?  You really mean it?”     “Yes, Stanley.  Let’s go pick out a dog.”     Stanley couldn't take off his seat belt and open the car door fast enough.  He jumped out of the car and then slammed the door closed behind him.  He ran through the rain and jumped up onto the sidewalk, waiting for his mother to join him before he entered the shelter.  He could hear dogs barking and smell dog food coming from inside.     “You’re the best mom ever!”     “I know,” she replied, stepping onto the sidewalk and shaking the rain out of her brown, shoulder-length, curly hair.  “But it’s nice to hear it once in a while.”

Once inside the animal shelter, Stanley and his mother thoroughly searched row after row of chain link fence cages, looking at dozens upon dozens of potential pets.  With the sound of fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, Stanley looked every dog over carefully, wanting to give each one equal consideration.     “How about this one?” asked Stanley’s mother, pointing at an English sheepdog.     “Too much hair.”     “Saint Bernard?”     “Too big.”     “Chihuahua?”     “Too small.”     “The one who’s running around in circles?”     “Too hyper,” they both agreed.     “This one looks too mean,” said Stanley’s mother, pointing to the one baring its teeth and drooling.     “This one barks too much,” Stanley remarked about another one.     Stanley started to become discouraged.  Picking out a furry friend wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be.  Nevertheless, he kept going, even as the constant barking hurt his ears and the wide variety of animal odors began to nauseate him.

A half hour later, an announcement came over the intercom, saying that the shelter would be closing in fifteen minutes.  As a few of the overhead lights switched off, Stanley began to panic.     “They’re about to close, Stanley.  We’ll have to come back another day when we have more time to look.”     “Mom, no!  He has to be here!  He just has to be!”     “Just a couple more minutes, then we have to leave.  They're closing soon.”     Shortly before Stanley and his mother were about to give up, they reached the last row, near the back of the shelter.  While his mother hurriedly looked on one side of the aisle and Stanley looked down the other, Stanley came upon a cage with a small brown and white Norfolk terrier.  Stanley looked down at the dog and locked eyes with him.  Without question or hesitation, Stanley knew he was the dog for him.     “Mom!  Mom!  Over here!  Come here!  Look!”     Stanley’s mother turned in her son’s direction and ran over to the cage where he was standing.  “Oh, look at him!  He’s so cute!  Yep, he’s the one.  What’s his name?”     Stanley leaned over to read the card next to the cage’s handle and lock.  “‘Buddy.’”     “‘Buddy.’  That’s perfect.  He’ll be your new buddy, Stanley.  Won't you, little guy?  Will you be Stanley’s buddy?”     Buddy jumped up on his back legs, leaning against the front of the cage with his paws.  With his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out, Buddy let out two enthusiastic barks.     “You stay here, Stanley.  I’ll go find the man again so he can get Buddy out for us.  I’ll be right back.”     Stanley leaned against the front of the chain link cage as far as he could, putting his fingers through the fence and letting Buddy lick them.     “Are you ready to come home with me, Buddy?  I can hardly wait to show you my room and where you’re going to sleep.”

Minutes later, Stanley’s mother returned, followed by a store employee who was holding a large key ring with dozens of keys on it.     “Okay, let’s see now.  Which one do we have here?” said Andy, the shelter employee, looking down at Buddy through the chain link gate.  “Oh, yeah.  Isn’t he something?  We just got him in this morning.  A little old lady died, and her family didn’t want him, so they brought him to us.”     “I guess we got here on the right day, didn’t we, Stanley?”     “Yeah, good thing you came in when you did,” said Andy.  “By this time tomorrow, he’d be gone.  We were going to move him to a cage up front, but we were so busy today that we didn’t have a chance.  Most people don’t make it back this far.  They usually give up after looking at the first couple rows.”     Andy unlocked the cage door, and after entering the cage, he fastened a bright red collar around Buddy’s neck, brought Buddy out of the cage, and handed the end of the leash to Stanley.  Then Stanley and his mother walked Buddy to the front of the store so they could pay for him.

Andy pointed a barcode scanner at Buddy’s collar, then turned around to look at the computer monitor on the counter.  After seeing the total on the screen, he told Stanley’s mother the price.     “That much?  Really?  Oh no.  I’m sorry, Stanley,” said Stanley’s mother, putting her hand on her son’s shoulder.  “He’s too expensive.  We just can’t afford him.  We’ll come back another day and pick out a different one, okay?”      “M-mom…?” said Stanley, his voice trembling.     “I’m sorry, Stanley.”     “No!  You can’t!” yelled Stanley, picking up Buddy and wrapping his arms around the dog.  “You can’t take Buddy away!  No!”     “I’m so sorry,” repeated Stanley’s mother, reaching out toward Stanley and trying to take Buddy out of his arms.     As Stanley gripped Buddy tighter and backed away from his mother, Buddy squealed, howled, and barked, trying to hold onto Stanley with his claws.  But after several attempts, Stanley’s mother finally pulled Buddy off Stanley and was able to get Buddy on the ground.     Andy took the end of the leash from Stanley and tried to lead Buddy away, but Buddy lunged toward Stanley, pulling his leash taut, standing on his back legs, his front paws wheeling in the air.     “I’m sorry this turned out to be such a bad birthday for you, Stanley.”     “It’s your son’s birthday?” asked Andy.  “I’ll tell you what.  We have a special deal for kids who adopt one of our animals on their birthdays.”     “Really?” asked Stanley.     “Well, we do now,” said Andy, smiling at Stanley.     “Wow!  Thanks!”     “Are you sure?” asked Stanley’s mother.     “I can see how much Buddy means to Stanley—and how much Stanley means to Buddy.  I can’t break them up.”     Stanley watched as Andy took Stanley's mother aside and offered her a new price.  His mother smiled and nodded.  She then wrote out a check on the counter, handed it to Andy, and Andy ran it through the register.  After Andy handed Stanley’s mother a receipt, both of them walked back over to Stanley and Buddy.     “What do you say, Stanley?” asked his mother.     “Thank you, sir!”     “Andy.  You can call me Andy.”     “Thanks, Andy!”     “You’re welcome, Stanley.  And don't forget to thank your mother, as well.”     “Thanks, Mom!” said Stanley, kneeling down and petting Buddy.     “You’re very welcome, Stanley.  Now, let’s take Buddy home.”     Stanley ran out the front door, Buddy following close behind him on his bright red leash.

Stanley, his mother, and their new dog arrived home a short time later with their dinner.  Stanley set the pizza box down on the small, round, green-speckled table and then let go of Buddy’s leash.  As Buddy sniffed frantically around the kitchen floor, dragging his bright red leash behind him, Stanley got out two plates from the green cupboards and grabbed some napkins off the counter.     “Don’t get used to this,” said Stanley’s mother, hanging her purse and coat on a chair.  “We can’t eat this fancy all the time.”     Stanley’s mother got out a paper plate and some silverware from one of the drawers, then sat down and opened the pizza box.  She took one slice of pizza out of the box and put it on the paper plate.  She cut the slice of pizza into smaller pieces and then put the plate on the white-tiled floor.  Buddy ran up to the paper plate and devoured the pieces of pizza so fast that Stanley could hardly see where they went.     “Wow!” exclaimed Stanley.  “Buddy was really hungry!”     Stanley hung his jacket over the back of his chair and sat down.  Stanley's mother put a slice of pizza on both hers and Stanley’s plate, and they began eating.     “How is the pizza?  Good?” she asked.     With wide eyes and a huge grin stretching across his little round face, Stanley nodded as he chewed, affirming that it was.     “Was it a good birthday?”     “The best!” replied Stanley between bites.     Buddy jumped up on Stanley’s leg, whining, barking, and panting for another piece of pizza.  Stanley tore a piece of pizza off his slice and dropped it into Buddy’s mouth.  Buddy chewed it and then dropped back to the floor, licking his mouth.     “After dessert, how about we give Buddy a bath?” suggested Stanley’s mother.  “He’ll be nice and clean for his first night in his new home.  Does that sound good?”     Stanley wiped his greasy hands on his napkin and then reached down and petted Buddy, gently stroking the hair behind his head and ears over and over.     “It’s nice to see you happy again, Stanley.  I’m glad you got your wish.”     Stanley got up from his chair and wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck, hugging her as tightly as he could.     “What was that for?” she asked.     “For getting Buddy for me.”     “You’re welcome, Stanley.  You already thanked me once, but I'll take it anyway,” she said, kissing her son on the cheek.  “There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for you.”     Stanley hugged his mother again and then sat back down in his chair.     “Now,” said Stanley's mother, “who’s ready for a big piece of birthday cake?”

After Buddy’s bath, Stanley took a freshly cleaned Buddy into his bedroom.     “This is my room.  It’s where I sleep and read and do my homework.  It’s your room now, too.  I hope you’ll like it.”     Buddy looked around the room, staring at everything Stanley pointed at and listening to everything Stanley had to tell him.     “This is my bed.  These are my dresser drawers where I have my socks and shorts.  And this is my clock and my lamp.  Over here’s my desk and my chair, where I do all my homework.  This is my dictionary and my thesaurus and my other lamp.”     Buddy sniffed Stanley’s dresser, looked up at Stanley, and then wagged his tail.     “Here's my closet, where I have the rest of my clothes.  And here’s some of my models I made,” said Stanley, pointing to the spaceships hanging from the ceiling with clear fishing wire.     “And this is my bookshelf, where I have all my books and my comics.  My favorite comics are Super Sarge and The Unbelievable U-Men.  Oh, and The Immortals.  Admiral Victorious is pretty good, too.”     Buddy yawned.  And after seeing Buddy yawn, Stanley yawned as well.     “You tired, boy?  Yeah, me, too.  It’s been a really long day.  Lemme show you where you're gonna sleep.”     Stanley walked around to the end of his single bed and pointed to a baby blue blanket fluffed up on the floor.  Buddy followed Stanley, looked down at the blanket, and then looked up at Stanley.     “We’ll have to get you a real bed someday, but for now, you’ll have to sleep on this blanket.  It’s really nice and soft.  See?” said Stanley, bending down and moving his hand back and forth across the smooth material.     Buddy stepped into the blanket, turned around a few times, and then laid down in it, all curled up with his head down.     “See?  It’s nice.  It just got out of the dryer, so it’s really warm.  Well, goodnight, Buddy.  Sweet dreams.”     Stanley climbed into his bed and reached over to turn off the lamp on his dresser.  He then pulled the covers over himself, laid his head down on his pillow, and closed his eyes.     After a couple minutes went by, Stanley heard a whimpering sound in the dark.     “What’s the matter, Buddy?” asked Stanley, turning on his lamp.  “Are you okay?  What’s wrong?  You don't like your blanket?”     Stanley leaned over the side of the bed and reached down to pet Buddy.  Buddy licked the back of Stanley’s hand and then whimpered again.     “You want to sleep with me?  Well, okay.  Jump up here, then.  But just this once.”     Buddy jumped up onto Stanley’s bed, laid down, and then rested his chin on the edge of the bed.     “Goodnight, Buddy.  I’ll see you in the morning.”     Stanley turned off his lamp, laid his head down on his pillow, and closed his eyes again.  He then reached down and petted Buddy, stroking the long, clean hair on his back over and over,8slower and slower, until they both fell asleep.

To be continued...

Copyright © 2024 Larry Dempsey.  All rights reserved.

[dlifesworld]

Maximizing Space in a U-Shaped Kitchen: Smart Layout and Design Ideas

If you're looking to breathe new life into your U-shaped kitchen and unlock its full potential, fret not! With a few clever layout tweaks and design ideas, you can transform your kitchen into a haven of functionality and style. Here, we'll delve into some expert tips from interior designers in Chennai to help you maximize space in your U-shaped kitchen.

The U-shaped kitchen design is a popular choice for homeowners due to its efficiency and ability to maximize storage and workspace. It utilizes three walls, creating a horseshoe-like layout that offers ample counter space, cabinetry, and a natural workflow.

Optimizing the Layout for Efficiency

The key to a successful U-shaped kitchen lies in creating a smooth workflow, also known as the kitchen triangle. This refers to the imaginary path between the sink, stove, and refrigerator, the three most used areas in a kitchen. Ideally, you want to minimize the distance between these elements to ensure efficient movement while cooking.

*Measure and Plan: Before embarking on any changes, meticulously measure your kitchen space. Sketch out a plan on paper or use online design tools to visualize different layouts. This will help you determine the optimal placement of appliances, cabinets, and countertops within your U-shaped design.

*Appliance Placement: Strategically position your appliances. The sink is often considered the central point, with the stove on one side and the refrigerator on the opposite side. However, depending on your space and handedness, you can adjust this.

Smart Storage Solutions

U-shaped kitchens offer excellent storage potential, but maximizing every inch requires clever solutions. Here are some tips from interior designers:

*Utilize Vertical Space: Don't neglect the walls! Install tall cabinets that reach up to the ceiling for maximum storage. You can also incorporate pull-out shelves or lazy Susans in deep cabinets for easy access to items stored in the back.

*Corner Cabinets: Corner cabinets can be tricky, but with the right inserts like rotating shelves or pull-out drawers, you can make excellent use of this often-wasted space.

*Base Cabinets: Opt for deep base cabinets for storing pots, pans, and bulky appliances. Consider adding pull-out drawers with dividers for efficient organization of utensils and spices.

*Open Shelving: Open shelving can be a great way to showcase beautiful dishes and add a touch of personality. However, be mindful of clutter. Use closed cabinets for storing everyday items and open shelves for decorative pieces.

Design Hacks for a Spacious Feel

While U-shaped kitchens offer ample functionality, creating a sense of spaciousness is crucial, especially in smaller areas. Here's how to achieve an airy and open ambience:

*Light and Color: Embrace light colors for your cabinets, countertops, and walls. White, light gray, and beige create an illusion of a larger space. Opt for reflective surfaces on backsplashes and appliances to further enhance the feeling of openness.

*Lighting: Task lighting is essential for a U-shaped kitchen. Under-cabinet lighting illuminates work areas, while pendant lights over the sink or island add visual interest and brighten the space. Consider natural light as well. If possible, incorporate large windows or skylights to bring in the outdoors.

*Flooring: Opt for light-colored flooring that complements your cabinetry. Consider using the same flooring throughout the kitchen to create a sense of continuity and make the space feel larger.

*Open Up the Space: If feasible, consider removing non-load-bearing walls to open up your U-shaped kitchen to an adjoining dining area. This creates a more open floor plan and improves the overall flow of your home.

Additional U-Shaped Kitchen Design Ideas

Beyond the essentials, here are some additional U-shaped kitchen design ideas to inspire you:

*Mix and Match Cabinet Styles: Combine closed cabinets for storage with open shelves or glass-front cabinets for a visually interesting look.

*Patterned Backsplashes: Don't shy away from patterned backsplashes, especially if your cabinets and countertops are a solid color. However, choose a pattern that complements your overall design scheme and use it sparingly to avoid overwhelming the space.

*Statement Hardware: Elevate your U-shaped kitchen with unique cabinet hardware.

With a well-planned U-shaped kitchen layout and some clever design choices, you can transform your kitchen into a space that is both functional and stylish. Remember, these are just some guiding principles. Don't be afraid to personalize your U-shaped kitchen to reflect your unique style and needs. If you're looking for further guidance or require assistance in creating a bespoke U-shaped kitchen design, consider consulting with experienced interior designers in India. They can help you navigate the design process, ensure optimal space utilization, and bring your dream kitchen to life.

[ariannasenvolant]

He was in the studio everyday. No kind of weather would lead him anywhere other than the studio. No kind of urgency would ever lead him out of the studio. Maybe he would take an unusually long stroll outside the block long apartment complex that also had a floor dedicated to artists like him. Artist in recency. Because he was, in fact, an artist in residency.

He devoted all his time to his craft. Every flick of the paintbrush was a soft kiss on the canvas. The colors he chose were a palette of his emotions. Long nights of a steady violin replaying on the record player he was gifted from a fan of his. He would lay on the pale wooden floors, maimed with frequent cracks and creaks when you step. Splattered with paint here, and there. He would press his ear against the wood, and reach for the sounds of the floor beneath him. He would stay like this, confined to the ground for long, meditative states, and when he would rise, he would rush to the neartest paintbrush, the acrylic paint most vivid in his sight and let the nature of his artistry work it’s magic.

Strokes of blue, pink, yellow. Black. Purple here, can’t forget green. A swirl of representations. “A celebration of colors,” the New York Times once quoted. “A madman with grace”, that’s what he fantasized about for his next debut. Like a madman, he would sometimes walk all over his canvas.

Throw it on the floor out of frustration. It’s not good enough! I feel nothing. The soles of his shoe pressed in ink has to be more provocative. Yes he’ll say your shoes protect the souls of the feet. the imprint becomes us as we wander this earth. That’ll be beautiful.

He continues adding embellishments until his eyes are begging him to rest. Sometimes, intranced by the high of dry mouth, gnawing stomach, and eye bags, and he’ll blindy reach for any material in his orbit and incorporate it into the canvas. It’s his way of letting the subconscious work.

And when so many suns came and moons passed, he would finalize with a signature. His signature signature. A single stroke of DDM. D, for his artist name, short for his right name; Donovan Dreadful M. Of course he never disclosed his real last name to the Internet. He’d often check his famous birthdays to see if the Internet investigated enough to uncover the family history he purposefully leaves out in interviews. They’ve already gotten a hold of his baby pictures. The ones he uploaded to his own Wikipedia page that he created and frequently edits himself.

His last exhibition was over a year ago. He curated it himself and displayed it his very own room. He let the air loose in his air mattress and shoved it in a closet. He shoved all his 1 fork, 1 plate, 1 pot, and 1 knife, and small salt and pepper grinder into his cupboards and hid his paints and brushes under the bathroom sink. The space was bare white walls and hardwood floor, save for the window in the top right corner adjacent to the dtove and countertop and the single gray couch he owned and in The reception Good art takes time.

[becoration]

Innovative and functional designs for contemporary spaces.

Post has been published on becoration

Innovative and functional designs for contemporary spaces.

Decoration and interior design have evolved over time, adapting to changing needs and emerging trends. Contemporary spaces are characterized by their fresh and functional style, prioritizing comfort and modern aesthetics. Let’s explore innovative and functional designs for contemporary spaces, giving you ideas to transform your home into a modern and cozy environment.

The importance of open space

Contemporary spaces often focus on creating open and fluid areas. The removal of unnecessary walls allows for better circulation of light and air, creating a sense of spaciousness.

Consider the possibility of tearing down walls to unite the kitchen, dining room, and living room into one integrated space. This not only makes the place look larger but also encourages interaction among people.

Simplicity in decoration

Minimalism is a prominent feature in contemporary designs. Opt for simple and clean furniture and decor. Neutral colors, such as white, gray, and beige, are a popular choice for walls and furniture, creating a versatile background for brighter color accents.

Natural materials

Natural materials such as wood, marble, and metal bring warmth and texture to contemporary spaces. Consider incorporating wooden elements into your furniture or floors. Additionally, using marble on countertops and tables adds a touch of luxury to your space.

Functional and versatile furniture

In contemporary spaces, furniture should be both stylish and functional. Look for furniture pieces that serve multiple purposes, such as sofa beds or extendable tables. This allows you to optimize space and adapt it to your changing needs.

Creative lighting

Lighting plays a crucial role in contemporary designs. Opt for design pendant lamps to add a stylish touch to your space. Dimmable lights allow you to create different atmospheres for different occasions. Also, make the most of natural light through large windows or skylights.

Art and decorative elements

Although minimalism is a key feature, you can still incorporate art and decorative elements into your contemporary space. A striking piece of art or a set of colorful cushions can add personality and warmth to the room. The key is to choose elements that complement the overall aesthetics of your home.

Integrated technology

Technological advances also play an important role in contemporary spaces. Consider installing home automation systems that allow you to control lighting, temperature, and other devices through your phone or voice. This not only increases convenience but also adds a futuristic touch to your home.

Open kitchens

Open kitchens are a distinctive feature of contemporary designs. A kitchen island or bar provides additional space for cooking and socializing. This allows the cooks to be in the center of the action and facilitates interaction with guests while preparing meals.

Smart use of space

In contemporary spaces, space optimization is essential. Choose furniture that offers additional storage, such as beds with drawers or built-in shelves. Make the most of every available corner to maximize storage without compromising style.

Modern bathroom design

Contemporary bathrooms often feature minimalist design elements. Floor-level showers, floating sinks, and geometric tile designs are common features. Additionally, choosing chrome or stainless steel fixtures adds a modern touch.

Gardens and patios

If you have an outdoor space, extend your contemporary design to the garden or patio. Opt for elegant and functional outdoor furniture. Create outdoor living and dining areas that are ideal for entertaining.

Sustainability

Sustainability is a growing trend in contemporary designs. Consider using recycled or eco-friendly

Source: MiMub in Spanish