#brick column base

[satan-ryoasuka]

Patio - Traditional Patio Large traditional backyard stone patio kitchen idea with a gazebo for the patio

[merakiblr]

Backyard Porch Raleigh

Mid-sized classic brick back porch idea with a roof extension

[markwickens]

Dallas Outdoor Kitchen Outdoor Kitchen

Large traditional backyard stone patio kitchen idea with a gazebo for the patio

[seideansidhe]

Traditional Patio Houston Inspiration for a small timeless backyard concrete patio remodel with a fire pit and a pergola

[jessicaschein]

Fiberboard Exterior in Cincinnati

Mid-sized craftsman beige two-story concrete fiberboard exterior home idea with a shingle roof

[meusmelhoresbeijos]

Backyard - Deck Image of a medium-sized elegant backyard deck

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Interiors

As a followup to the very popular post on architecture, I decided to add onto it by exploring the interior of each movement and the different design techniques and tastes of each era. This post at be helpful for historical fiction, fantasy or just a long read when you're bored.

Interior Design Terms

Reeding and fluting: Fluting is a technique that consists a continuous pattern of concave grooves in a flat surface across a surface. Reeding is it's opposite.

Embossing: stamping, carving or moulding a symbol to make it stand out on a surface.

Paneling: Panels of carved wood or fabric a fixed to a wall in a continuous pattern.

Gilding: the use of gold to highlight features.

Glazed Tile: Ceramic or porcelain tiles coated with liquid coloured glass or enamel.

Column: A column is a pillar of stone or wood built to support a ceiling. We will see more of columns later on.

Bay Window: The Bay Window is a window projecting outward from a building.

Frescos: A design element of painting images upon wet plaster.

Mosaic: Mosaics are a design element that involves using pieces of coloured glass and fitted them together upon the floor or wall to form images.

Mouldings: ornate strips of carved wood along the top of a wall.

Wainscoting: paneling along the lower portion of a wall.

Chinoiserie: A European take on East Asian art. Usually seen in wallpaper.

Clerestory: A series of eye-level windows.

Sconces: A light fixture supported on a wall.

Niche: A sunken area within a wall.

Monochromatic: Focusing on a single colour within a scheme.

Ceiling rose: A moulding fashioned on the ceiling in the shape of a rose usually supporting a light fixture.

Baluster: the vertical bars of a railing.

Façade: front portion of a building

Lintel: Top of a door or window.

Portico: a covered structure over a door supported by columns

Eaves: the part of the roof overhanging from the building

Skirting: border around lower length of a wall

Ancient Greece

Houses were made of either sun-dried clay bricks or stone which were painted when they dried. Ground floors were decorated with coloured stones and tiles called Mosaics. Upper level floors were made from wood. Homes were furnished with tapestries and furniture, and in grand homes statues and grand altars would be found. Furniture was very skillfully crafted in Ancient Greece, much attention was paid to the carving and decoration of such things. Of course, Ancient Greece is ancient so I won't be going through all the movements but I will talk a little about columns.

Doric: Doric is the oldest of the orders and some argue it is the simplest. The columns of this style are set close together, without bases and carved with concave curves called flutes. The capitals (the top of the column) are plain often built with a curve at the base called an echinus and are topped by a square at the apex called an abacus. The entablature is marked by frieze of vertical channels/triglyphs. In between the channels would be detail of carved marble. The Parthenon in Athens is your best example of Doric architecture.

Ionic: The Ionic style was used for smaller buildings and the interiors. The columns had twin volutes, scroll-like designs on its capital. Between these scrolls, there was a carved curve known as an egg and in this style the entablature is much narrower and the frieze is thick with carvings. The example of Ionic Architecture is the Temple to Athena Nike at the Athens Acropolis.

Corinthian: The Corinthian style has some similarities with the Ionic order, the bases, entablature and columns almost the same but the capital is more ornate its base, column, and entablature, but its capital is far more ornate, commonly carved with depictions of acanthus leaves. The style was more slender than the others on this list, used less for bearing weight but more for decoration. Corinthian style can be found along the top levels of the Colosseum in Rome.

Tuscan: The Tuscan order shares much with the Doric order, but the columns are un-fluted and smooth. The entablature is far simpler, formed without triglyphs or guttae. The columns are capped with round capitals.

Composite: This style is mixed. It features the volutes of the Ionic order and the capitals of the Corinthian order. The volutes are larger in these columns and often more ornate. The column's capital is rather plain. for the capital, with no consistent differences to that above or below the capital.

Ancient Rome

Rome is well known for its outward architectural styles. However the Romans did know how to add that rizz to the interior. Ceilings were either vaulted or made from exploded beams that could be painted. The Romans were big into design. Moasics were a common interior sight, the use of little pieces of coloured glass or stone to create a larger image. Frescoes were used to add colour to the home, depicting mythical figures and beasts and also different textures such as stonework or brick. The Romans loved their furniture. Dining tables were low and the Romans ate on couches. Weaving was a popular pastime so there would be tapestries and wall hangings in the house. Rich households could even afford to import fine rugs from across the Empire. Glass was also a feature in Roman interior but windows were usually not paned as large panes were hard to make. Doors were usually treated with panels that were carved or in lain with bronze.

Ancient Egypt

Egypt was one of the first great civilisations, known for its immense and grand structures. Wealthy Egyptians had grand homes. The walls were painted or plastered usually with bright colours and hues. The Egyptians are cool because they mapped out their buildings in such a way to adhere to astrological movements meaning on special days if the calendar the temple or monuments were in the right place always. The columns of Egyptian where thicker, more bulbous and often had capitals shaped like bundles of papyrus reeds. Woven mats and tapestries were popular decor. Motifs from the river such as palms, papyrus and reeds were popular symbols used.

Ancient Africa

African Architecture is a very mixed bag and more structurally different and impressive than Hollywood would have you believe. Far beyond the common depictions of primitive buildings, the African nations were among the giants of their time in architecture, no style quite the same as the last but just as breathtaking.

Rwandan Architecture: The Rwandans commonly built of hardened clay with thatched roofs of dried grass or reeds. Mats of woven reeds carpeted the floors of royal abodes. These residences folded about a large public area known as a karubanda and were often so large that they became almost like a maze, connecting different chambers/huts of all kinds of uses be they residential or for other purposes.

Ashanti Architecture: The Ashanti style can be found in present day Ghana. The style incorporates walls of plaster formed of mud and designed with bright paint and buildings with a courtyard at the heart, not unlike another examples on this post. The Ashanti also formed their buildings of the favourite method of wattle and daub.

Nubian Architecture: Nubia, in modern day Ethiopia, was home to the Nubians who were one of the world's most impressive architects at the beginning of the architecture world and probably would be more talked about if it weren't for the Egyptians building monuments only up the road. The Nubians were famous for building the speos, tall tower-like spires carved of stone. The Nubians used a variety of materials and skills to build, for example wattle and daub and mudbrick. The Kingdom of Kush, the people who took over the Nubian Empire was a fan of Egyptian works even if they didn't like them very much. The Kushites began building pyramid-like structures such at the sight of Gebel Barkal

Japanese Interiors

Japenese interior design rests upon 7 principles. Kanso (簡素)- Simplicity, Fukinsei (不均整)- Asymmetry, Shizen (自然)- Natural, Shibumi (渋味) – Simple beauty, Yugen (幽玄)- subtle grace, Datsuzoku (脱俗) – freedom from habitual behaviour, Seijaku (静寂)- tranquillity.

Common features of Japanese Interior Design:

Shoji walls: these are the screens you think of when you think of the traditional Japanese homes. They are made of wooden frames, rice paper and used to partition

Tatami: Tatami mats are used within Japanese households to blanket the floors. They were made of rice straw and rush straw, laid down to cushion the floor.

Genkan: The Genkan was a sunken space between the front door and the rest of the house. This area is meant to separate the home from the outside and is where shoes are discarded before entering.

Japanese furniture: often lowest, close to the ground. These include tables and chairs but often tanked are replaced by zabuton, large cushions. Furniture is usually carved of wood in a minimalist design.

Nature: As both the Shinto and Buddhist beliefs are great influences upon architecture, there is a strong presence of nature with the architecture. Wood is used for this reason and natural light is prevalent with in the home. The orientation is meant to reflect the best view of the world.

Islamic World Interior

The Islamic world has one of the most beautiful and impressive interior design styles across the world. Colour and detail are absolute staples in the movement. Windows are usually not paned with glass but covered in ornate lattices known as jali. The jali give ventilation, light and privacy to the home. Islamic Interiors are ornate and colourful, using coloured ceramic tiles. The upper parts of walls and ceilings are usually flat decorated with arabesques (foliate ornamentation), while the lower wall areas were usually tiled. Features such as honeycombed ceilings, horseshoe arches, stalactite-fringed arches and stalactite vaults (Muqarnas) are prevalent among many famous Islamic buildings such as the Alhambra and the Blue Mosque.

Byzantine (330/395–1453 A. D)

The Byzantine Empire or Eastern Roman Empire was where eat met west, leading to a melting pot of different interior designs based on early Christian styles and Persian influences. Mosaics are probably what you think of when you think of the Byzantine Empire. Ivory was also a popular feature in the Interiors, with carved ivory or the use of it in inlay. The use of gold as a decorative feature usually by way of repoussé (decorating metals by hammering in the design from the backside of the metal). Fabrics from Persia, heavily embroidered and intricately woven along with silks from afar a field as China, would also be used to upholster furniture or be used as wall hangings. The Byzantines favoured natural light, usually from the use of copolas.

Indian Interiors

India is of course, the font of all intricate designs. India's history is sectioned into many eras but we will focus on a few to give you an idea of prevalent techniques and tastes.

The Gupta Empire (320 – 650 CE): The Gupta era was a time of stone carving. As impressive as the outside of these buildings are, the Interiors are just as amazing. Gupta era buildings featured many details such as ogee (circular or horseshoe arch), gavaksha/chandrashala (the motif centred these arches), ashlar masonry (built of squared stone blocks) with ceilings of plain, flat slabs of stone.

Delhi Sultanate (1206–1526): Another period of beautifully carved stone. The Delhi sultanate had influence from the Islamic world, with heavy uses of mosaics, brackets, intricate mouldings, columns and and hypostyle halls.

Mughal Empire (1526–1857): Stonework was also important on the Mughal Empire. Intricately carved stonework was seen in the pillars, low relief panels depicting nature images and jalis (marble screens). Stonework was also decorated in a stye known as pietra dura/parchin kari with inscriptions and geometric designs using colored stones to create images. Tilework was also popular during this period. Moasic tiles were cut and fitted together to create larger patters while cuerda seca tiles were coloured tiles outlined with black.

Chinese Interiors

Common features of Chinese Interiors

Use of Colours: Colour in Chinese Interior is usually vibrant and bold. Red and Black are are traditional colours, meant to bring luck, happiness, power, knowledge and stability to the household.

Latticework: Lattices are a staple in Chinese interiors most often seen on shutters, screens, doors of cabinets snf even traditional beds.

Lacquer: Multiple coats of lacquer are applied to furniture or cabinets (now walls) and then carved. The skill is called Diaoqi (雕漆).

Decorative Screens: Screens are used to partition off part of a room. They are usually of carved wood, pained with very intricate murals.

Shrines: Spaces were reserved on the home to honour ancestors, usually consisting of an altar where offerings could be made.

Of course, Chinese Interiors are not all the same through the different eras. While some details and techniques were interchangeable through different dynasties, usually a dynasty had a notable style or deviation. These aren't all the dynasties of course but a few interesting examples.

Song Dynasty (960–1279): The Song Dynasty is known for its stonework. Sculpture was an important part of Song Dynasty interior. It was in this period than brick and stone work became the most used material. The Song Dynasty was also known for its very intricate attention to detail, paintings, and used tiles.

Ming Dynasty(1368–1644): Ceilings were adorned with cloisons usually featuring yellow reed work. The floors would be of flagstones usually of deep tones, mostly black. The Ming Dynasty favoured richly coloured silk hangings, tapestries and furnishings. Furniture was usually carved of darker woods, arrayed in a certain way to bring peace to the dwelling.

Han Dynasty (206 BC-220 AD): Interior walls were plastered and painted to show important figures and scenes. Lacquer, though it was discovered earlier, came into greater prominence with better skill in this era.

Tang Dynasty (618–907) : The colour palette is restrained, reserved. But the Tang dynasty is not without it's beauty. Earthenware reached it's peak in this era, many homes would display fine examples as well. The Tang dynasty is famous for its upturned eaves, the ceilings supported by timber columns mounted with metal or stone bases. Glazed tiles were popular in this era, either a fixed to the roof or decorating a screen wall.

Romanesque (6th -11th century/12th)

Romanesque Architecture is a span between the end of Roman Empire to the Gothic style. Taking inspiration from the Roman and Byzantine Empires, the Romanesque period incorporates many of the styles. The most common details are carved floral and foliage symbols with the stonework of the Romanesque buildings. Cable mouldings or twisted rope-like carvings would have framed doorways. As per the name, Romansque Interiors relied heavily on its love and admiration for Rome. The Romanesque style uses geometric shapes as statements using curves, circles snf arches. The colours would be clean and warm, focusing on minimal ornamentation.

Gothic Architecture (12th Century - 16th Century)

The Gothic style is what you think of when you think of old European cathedrals and probably one of the beautiful of the styles on this list and one of most recognisable. The Gothic style is a dramatic, opposing sight and one of the easiest to describe. Decoration in this era became more ornate, stonework began to sport carving and modelling in a way it did not before. The ceilings moved away from barreled vaults to quadripartite and sexpartite vaulting. Columns slimmed as other supportive structures were invented. Intricate stained glass windows began their popularity here. In Gothic structures, everything is very symmetrical and even.

Mediaeval (500 AD to 1500)

Interiors of mediaeval homes are not quite as drab as Hollywood likes to make out. Building materials may be hidden by plaster in rich homes, sometimes even painted. Floors were either dirt strewn with rushes or flagstones in larger homes. Stonework was popular, especially around fireplaces. Grand homes would be decorated with intricate woodwork, carved heraldic beasts and wall hangings of fine fabrics.

Renaissance (late 1300s-1600s)

The Renaissance was a period of great artistry and splendor. The revival of old styles injected symmetry and colour into the homes. Frescoes were back. Painted mouldings adorned the ceilings and walls. Furniture became more ornate, fixed with luxurious upholstery and fine carvings. Caryatids (pillars in the shape of women), grotesques, Roman and Greek images were used to spruce up the place. Floors began to become more intricate, with coloured stone and marble. Modelled stucco, sgraffiti arabesques (made by cutting lines through a layer of plaster or stucco to reveal an underlayer), and fine wall painting were used in brilliant combinations in the early part of the 16th century.

Tudor Interior (1485-1603)

The Tudor period is a starkly unique style within England and very recognisable. Windows were fixed with lattice work, usually casement. Stained glass was also in in this period, usually depicting figures and heraldic beasts. Rooms would be panelled with wood or plastered. Walls would be adorned with tapestries or embroidered hangings. Windows and furniture would be furnished with fine fabrics such as brocade. Floors would typically be of wood, sometimes strewn with rush matting mixed with fresh herbs and flowers to freshen the room.

Baroque (1600 to 1750)

The Baroque period was a time for splendor and for splashing the cash. The interior of a baroque room was usually intricate, usually of a light palette, featuring a very high ceiling heavy with detail. Furniture would choke the room, ornately carved and stitched with very high quality fabrics. The rooms would be full of art not limited to just paintings but also sculptures of marble or bronze, large intricate mirrors, moldings along the walls which may be heavily gilded, chandeliers and detailed paneling.

Victorian (1837-1901)

We think of the interiors of Victorian homes as dowdy and dark but that isn't true. The Victorians favoured tapestries, intricate rugs, decorated wallpaper, exquisitely furniture, and surprisingly, bright colour. Dyes were more widely available to people of all stations and the Victorians did not want for colour. Patterns and details were usually nature inspired, usually floral or vines. Walls could also be painted to mimic a building material such as wood or marble and most likely painted in rich tones. The Victorians were suckers for furniture, preferring them grandly carved with fine fabric usually embroidered or buttoned. And they did not believe in minimalism. If you could fit another piece of furniture in a room, it was going in there. Floors were almost eclusively wood laid with the previously mentioned rugs. But the Victorians did enjoy tiled floors but restricted them to entrances. The Victorians were quite in touch with their green thumbs so expect a lot of flowers and greenery inside. with various elaborately decorated patterned rugs. And remember, the Victorians loved to display as much wealth as they could. Every shelf, cabinet, case and ledge would be chocked full of ornaments and antiques.

Edwardian/The Gilded Age/Belle Epoque (1880s-1914)

This period (I've lumped them together for simplicity) began to move away from the deep tones and ornate patterns of the Victorian period. Colour became more neutral. Nature still had a place in design. Stained glass began to become popular, especially on lampshades and light fixtures. Embossing started to gain popularity and tile work began to expand from the entrance halls to other parts of the house. Furniture began to move away from dark wood, some families favouring breathable woods like wicker. The rooms would be less cluttered.

Art Deco (1920s-1930s)

The 1920s was a time of buzz and change. Gone were the refined tastes of the pre-war era and now the wow factor was in. Walls were smoother, buildings were sharper and more jagged, doorways and windows were decorated with reeding and fluting. Pastels were in, as was the heavy use of black and white, along with gold. Mirrors and glass were in, injecting light into rooms. Gold, silver, steel and chrome were used in furnishings and decor. Geometric shapes were a favourite design choice. Again, high quality and bold fabrics were used such as animal skins or colourful velvet. It was all a rejection of the Art Noveau movement, away from nature focusing on the man made.

Modernism (1930 - 1965)

Modernism came after the Art Deco movement. Fuss and feathers were out the door and now, practicality was in. Materials used are shown as they are, wood is not painted, metal is not coated. Bright colours were acceptable but neutral palettes were favoured. Interiors were open and favoured large windows. Furniture was practical, for use rather than the ornamentation, featuring plain details of any and geometric shapes. Away from Art Deco, everything is straight, linear and streamlined.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Pen Ink & Motor Oil

Blurb: Eddie has worked as a mechanic in Tucker’s busy garage for the past three and a half years and you have recently joined as the cute receptionist at the front desk. Based on this nonnie’s request!

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie x Receptionist!Reader

Warnings: Eddie is in his late 20’s, reader is in her early 20’s, swearing, pet names, smoking (cigarettes) , reader referred to as girl, Eddie has a filthy mouth and the reader likes it. Sexual tension, dom!Eddie, sloppy kisses, fingering, choking, public intimacy, 18+

-

“Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe some coffee?” Your hands rub together furiously, hoping the friction will heat the delicate surface of your skin. This morning played out like it always did between you and Eddie— you would advert your eyes away from his intense gaze and he would toy with the colour on your cheeks like a puppeteer.

“I’ll take a bottle of Pepsi if there’s one in the fridge? Please.” You couldn’t understand his willingness to drink such icy cold liquid when the mornings were already becoming so chilly. Especially in the garage, the freezing cement of the floor and the bare brick of the walls made heat easily escapable.

“You’re crazy,” Laughing you reach down into the small refrigerator behind your desk, plucking out a glass bottle filled with the sugary brown beverage and handing it to Eddie. He lets out what can only be described as a moan as he eyes the bottle in his hand with such admiration, his strong fingers twisting off the bottle cap with ease.

“Thanks, Cutie.” The metal head winks at you, his words leave his mouth with such charisma and fluidity that it makes your tired head buzz with excitement.

After a moment of ridiculous pause you finally clock back into reality, “That’s a cool party trick,” gesturing toward the bottle in Eddie’s manly hands he offers you a hum, smiling politely at you like he always does, “Doesn’t it hurt your hand?”

“Not really— I bet you could do it, if you tried.” He shrugs, his gigantic hand comes to clasp one of his breasts through the tarnished white fabric of his tank top, something you have recently realised he does a lot out of comfort and you can’t help the twitch of your fingertips as you long for the warmth of his soft inked skin against yours.

“Is there a lot booked in for today?” He leaves the bottle on the worktop, his creased boots scrape against the dusty floor as he inches toward your standing frame confidently. He peers over your shoulder, his strong nose is almost tickling the shell of your ear as he tries to read the schedule you had written up the shift before and your breath becomes trapped in the length of your throat at his close proximity.

Your thoughts are a scrambled mess as your nostrils fill with the brunettes intoxicating scent; subtle laundry detergent that smells like winter and clean linen, a fresh, almost minty, shampoo that radiates from his soft hair as it brushes your cheek and the smallest hint of cigarette smoke.

In your daze you blindly hadn’t acknowledged the fact that Eddie was basically bending you over the front desk. Your elbows were propped on the hard acrylic material, your ass perked up into the air and Eddie’s hulking frame was braced over you from behind, “Uhm…” You scream inwardly at yourself and your inability to form any sort of coherent sentence and thought.

���Uhm?” Eddie mocks, his voice deep and hushed. He lets out a small throaty laugh as his fingers dance over the neatly written page laid on the counter in front of you, “Can’t you read your own handwriting, Love?” Another sweet nickname that causes your legs to weaken.

He taps his fingertip on to the column that reads ‘Monday’ at the top of the grid and you can feel his wide grin against the back of your head, “Plenty of time for fun today.” Eddie purrs like a cat in your ear and your body involuntarily shivers at his breath against your neck.

“I’ll come check up on you in an hour or so, yeah? I think the first customer of the day will be arriving soon and I don’t wanna fuck this up.” It takes Eddie every ounce of self control he has to collar himself and retreat to the back of the garage where he can try and meet his deadline for the day. But in complete honesty, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

His chocolate button eyes constantly flicking from the internal organs of a car to the swinging door that separates you from him. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he had developed quite a fondness for you— a little crush, perhaps. You were the nicest girl Tucker had ever hired; above qualified and the most beautiful. You might’ve been the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Gorgeous smile, kind eyes and not to mention a smokin’ bod. You always had this incomparable aroma lingering around you— a perfume he had never smelt before. It was addicting. You were addicting.

Two hours had passed now and Eddie was getting restless. He had already repaired what was needed to the engine and the customer was scheduled to be here any second— he just wanted to chat with you again, to make you laugh and see your skin flush with each of his not-so-discreet compliments. He loved spending time with you. You were the reason he looked forward to coming into work each day.

“Hey, Eddie?” Your gentle voice sings through the room as you poke your head through the door into his space and Eddie bounces to his feet a little too eagerly, his hands toying with an old oil covered rag.

“Yeah? You okay?” His body is reacting before his brain can protest and he is springing over to meet you by the door like an excited puppy. A smile grows on his face with every step closer he gets to you and he watches you shift in your shiny heels with anticipation.

“I’m okay!” You confirm, the palm of your hand resting on the large door which allows a gust of fresh hair to meet Eddie’s now dirtied up face, “The customer is here to check out their car— would you like to come and speak with them before they sign anything?”

“Should be all good to go, Princess.” Eddie winks at you and his heart flutters boldly at the sight of your rosy cheeks. He could never get enough of you— he could stare at you forever, “Hey, after this guy leaves… you wanna come and grab some lunch with me? I usually go to this little place down the street. They have pretty decent sandwiches and stuff.” His hands come to find his hair as he ties it up into a low bun and a sly smirk finds his lips as he watches you watching him, “It’ll be my treat?” Clocking your silence he presses you further for an answer and you nod your head like a startled deer, your lips slightly pouted and parted in embarrassment.

“I would like that!” You squeak, your hands fumbling with your white dress shirt as you try to flatten out the new wrinkles, “So… I’ll go and ring this guy up. And… and I’ll meet you out front?” You gulp loudly, wincing at the sheer volume of it and Eddie grins at you evidently amused.

“Sounds great. Just gotta scrub my hands and I’ll see you out there, Pretty girl.”

Eddie watches as you disappear from his view, he even strains his neck to try and catch a final glimpse of your ass as he desperately fights to calm his raging heart.

He feels all giddy on the inside. Soft and gooey like a chocolate brownie; only you have been able to make him feel that way. Eddie had a few notches in his belt, he slept his way through high school with chicks who kept him a secret but you… you knew you would flaunt him like he was a rare jewel. The last 7 months of your employment made you realise how drawn you were to the metal head. Eddie was precious to you.

And today… today you were going to tell him.

-

You skip alongside Eddie, your heels dragging along the pavement. You always wanted to look presentable and professional for the business, but these heels were killing your feet.

“You alright there, Love?” Eddie chuckles, his eyes flicking between your arched feet and your pain stricken face.

“Hmm? Oh! Yeah— I’m fine! These shoes are just kicking my ass.” You stop for a moment, sighing a quick breath of relief as the pressure eases from your feet and Eddie comes to stand in front of you. His lips curve upward into a grin and his eyes glitch with mischief.

“I can carry you? And you can take the shoes off?” You watch the muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his meaty chest and your jaw loosens on its hinges for a moment.

He wanted to carry you?

“Don’t be silly! I can muscle through this! Women have been doing this for centuries.” You snort a laugh, attempting to walk by his massive physique but Eddie’s large hand takes a hold of yours and in one swift and fluid like motion he is carrying you in his arms toward the small sandwich shop that is just out of view at the end of the street.

“Eddie!” You squeal, half laughing and half horrified. Your cheeks are set alight as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck tightly, clutching onto him for dear life out of fear of falling.

“Relax, I’m not gonna drop you.” You had never been this close to him before. You could see every freckle on his nose, every stroke of black oil and grease on his cheeks, every sprinkle and burst of light amber in his usually abysmal black eyes. The thickness of his eyelashes and his eyebrows and the pink plumpness of his lips.

You could study him for hours. You could hang a portrait of him in an art gallery— and yet it would pale in comparison to the true thing. Eddie Munson was crafted carefully by Aphrodite herself. He was utter perfection. And you wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Like what you see, Princess?” He smirks at you devilishly, his dark hues shift every few seconds between your gawking expression and the footpath ahead.

“What if I did?” Bold. Even for you, and it was amusing to watch Eddie’s confident mask fumble.

“Then I would have to agree that I also like what I see…” He stops walking, his eyes solely focused on you now and you shift under his gaze— wiggling in Eddie’s buff arms.

“You do?” You can’t help that his confession catches you off guard. You knew Eddie enjoyed your presence, it was evident in the way he would always make excuses to come through to the front and talk to you. Eddie never usually had cause to be at the front desk unless it was to hand a customer their car keys back— but he always found a way to weasel his way through.

‘Have you got a pen I can borrow?’ There was always one tucked behind his ear.

‘Did I leave any tools through here? I’m missing my screwdriver…’ He had plenty to spare.

‘Do you need any help with anything?’ He was hopeless when it came to schedules.

‘Hey, is there any cold ones in the fridge today?’ He knew there was.

‘You got the time, Sweet girl?’ He wore a watch of his own.

He knew how to make you smile and he did it continuously every single day with his perky can-do attitude and his admirable personality. Eddie Munson checked all of your boyfriend boxes. He’s good with his hands, not afraid to get down and dirty, he is scarily strong and stupidly handsome. If it weren’t deemed inappropriate you would worship the ground his work boots walked on.

“Don’t act so surprised— I haven’t been so discreet with what I think of you, Sweetheart.” He was right, but you also couldn’t fully believe him. Eddie Munson thought you were attractive? It made you wanna laugh.

“Y’know… I’m not feeling too hungry anymore,” There’s a glint of desire that shimmers in Eddie’s dark eyes and you match his lustful enthusiasm, “What’d ya say we head back? I wanna… show you something…”

And by ‘show you something’ he meant that he wanted you to see the back of your skull as your eyes roll from the feeling of him pumping inside of you.

“Let’s go… let’s go now!” You don’t care how desperate you sound as Eddie turns on his heels and flees back toward Tucker’s. You are a giggling mess in Eddie’s arms and he chuckles warmly alongside you. You both have at least 10 minutes left of your lunch break as you burst back into the office and the next customer is due soon so this will have to be somewhat quick…

-

You wish you could pinch yourself to ensure you weren’t dreaming but your hands were too busy snaking through the thick fluffy curls of Eddie’s hair. It doesn’t take much effort for his wet tongue to dominate yours in a passionate and needy kiss.

His strong fingertips grip the soft flesh of your hips and his hands are like a powerful vice as he clings to you hungrily, “Can I touch you?” He asks between laboured breaths and you nod with a sweet hum. You can feel the swell of his cock pressing against you and you couldn’t think of anything you want more than to have his hands roaming your body.

“Fuck— you’re so fucking beautiful.” His thumb traces the line of your jaw, settling on your chin where he demands that your eyes meet his, “Wanna fuck you so bad, but I don’t think we have time today, Sweet girl.”

You pout out your bottom lip and Eddie chuckles darkly at the sight, “Think my fingers will do, hmm?” He cocks a brow, his rough finger tips dance up the length of your inner thigh before he is clasping his hand over the mound of your underwear. He sucks in a deep breath at the contact, struggling to control the raging storm of his hormones, “I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea.”

“Me too.” You gasp as Eddie’s fingers start rubbing tedious and teasing circles over your clothed clit, eliciting soft breathy moans from you.

“You’re gorgeous and your moans are pretty too— how lucky can a guy get?” You whine and swirl your hips down to meet Eddie’s movements, your body craving more of his touch and the filthy man doesn’t hesitate to slip his fingers past the lace of your panties.

Warm skin touching skin has your mind reeling with sin, “Getting impatient?” Eddie clicks his tongue, his free hand coming to curl around your neck. You welcome the action and your vision shifts as Eddie’s touch tightens on either side of your throat, “Tell me how good it feels, Baby.”

He punctuates his words by thrusting two of his long slender fingers inside of your aching slick hole and you release a dampened moan as your eyes flutter closed in ecstasy.

“Feels so good…” Your voice is a quiet whimper and Eddie shakes his head disapprovingly, his fingers curling inside of you and thrusting quicker and harder.

“Couldn’t hear you, Love…” His lips pepper kisses along your face until his mouth rests at the curve of your ear, “Speak up, Pretty girl.”

You feel as though you could cry at how good the tattooed brunette was making you feel. You hadn’t experienced anything quite like it before; all of this praise, the choking and the dominance. It felt good to let everything go— to give yourself to him.

“So good, Eddie! Feels so so good!” You’re a babbling, moaning mess beneath Eddie’s touch but you are beyond the point of caring as your euphoric release rushes toward you. Each skilled pump of Eddie’s decorated fingers leaves your walls clenching and your thighs quivering beneath you.

A wolfish growl rumbles deep within Eddie’s throat and he forces his knee between your thighs, leveraging you upright and keeping your back pressed against the brick wall.

“Gonna cum for me, Angel? Gonna cum around my fingers?” His pace quickens, if that were even possible and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your front teeth pierce your bottom lip, gnawing and nibbling at the plump skin like a desperate bunny.

You nod your head, but Eddie isn’t having any of it, “Words!” His fingers grab your face roughly and you open your lips in a pant, moaning greedily.

“Yes! Yes, I’m gonna cum! Please— fuck!” His chocolate eyes look fiercely into yours, dark and domineering; controlling.

Your orgasm shakes your body from the top to the bottom and you let out a noise that can only be described as a erotic scream and in a fit of slight panic Eddie pushes his hand flush against your mouth as you continue to ride out your high on his fingers.

“Shhh… gonna get us caught.” He offers you an egotistic toothy grin and your chest rises and falls with every intense breath you take in through your nose.

Eddie’s eyes flicker to the watch on his wrist, his eyebrows knitting in thought, “Looks like our lunch break is over…” He removes his hand slowly from your reddened and slightly swollen mouth, “Maybe we can continue this later…” a smirk never wavering from his face as he says, “Same time tomorrow, Princess?”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll

[buckevantommy]

for the fic prompt! : couch

baby bi buck is sooo special to me so have some bottom!buck in the early days of his relationship with Tommy. non-pen (for now..) 🥵🛋️

It's not the first time Buck's made out with someone on his couch, or any couch. It is the first time his partner's hands have been big enough to span his hips and strong enough to gently guide him into straddling their lap.

The noise that escapes his mouth where it's smooshed against Tommy's should be embarassing - it's needy, hungry, new - but he really doesn't care. Why would he care? When Tommy's so built that Buck's weight isn't a non-starter. It's the first time he hasn't felt too big during a makeout session, where he doesn't have to struggle to keep half his neurons firing so he doesn't forget his size and strength and injure his partner.

"Gorgeous," Tommy murmurs, voice a low rumble against Buck's mouth before capturing his lips again.

Buck bears his whole weight down, pressing Tommy into the couch, and grinds experimentally in his lap. Another should-be embarassing noise spills out of him, something base and primal from his chest as Tommy's arms - strong arms, thick and corded with serviceable muscle - wind around his midsection to hold him in place, wordless encouragement to keep doing what he's doing, to do more.

He loses himself in Tommy's kisses, building up a steady rhythm as he grinds artlessly down into Tommy's lap. They're both wearing jeans - which is kind of insane but the friction of the rigid denim against their bulging flies is driving Buck to the brink at double speed so he's putting it in the pros column.

One hand find leverage on Tommy's broad chest - sturdy like a fucking brick wall but with a soft give of cotton-covered flesh that Buck can sink his fingertips into - the other has a deathgrip on the collar of Tommy's overshirt as he chases after his orgasm, eyes screwing shut as the sensations of Tommy overwhelm him.

An unyeilding forearm braces Buck's back as Tommy's other hand slips beneath the waistband of his jeans and engulfs Buck's entire left ass cheek to give a firm squeeze—

Buck comes with a shout.

He barely registers Tommy's hold on him tightening as he rides out the last few shudders of his orgasm, Tommy's own muscles locking up and his cock jumping in the confines of his own jeans as he comes against Buck's own denim-clad mess.

It takes them a minute to catch their breath and for Buck's brain to reboot. He liked that. He really liked that. Everything about it was awesome, and.. kind of surprising. In a good way. A very fucking good way.

"Fuck." His underwear feels okay now, in the blissful moment after, but he knows from experience things are going to take an uncomfortable turn in the next few minutes. "It's, uh. Been a while since I've come in my pants like a horny teenager." Again: not embarassed. Tommy just.. has that effect on him. He's hot as hell and brings out Buck's wild side and he doesn't think Buck is too much.

Tommy's hands fit to Buck's hips again. Buck feels safer than he has with any partner. Ever. "Ditto," Tommy murmurs, hands soothing up and down Buck's ribs.

He's still planted firmly in Tommy's lap and Tommy doesn't seem in any rush to change that. Still. "Um. How d'you feel about a shower and a sleepover?"

"No bubble bath?"

Buck laughs and shoves playfully at Tommy. That beautiful crinkly smile takes over Tommy's whole face making Buck's breath stutters in his chest.

"I'd love to," Tommy says, easy as anything - like Buck's not asking too much too soon, like he wants to wake up next to Buck in the morning.

Buck wants that, too. Wants to wake up beside Tommy. Wrapped in Tommy. His mind wanders off down paths of what that might look like as he stumbles to his feet on shaky legs and reaches out a hand. Tommy lets Buck take a bit of his weight as he stands and it's another thing Buck files away that he likes about Tommy; he's strong, but he doesn't discount Buck's own growth and capabilities.

Tommy's hair is a riot, his curls mussed and free, his overshirt crinkled, face flushed and eyes bright in that just-fucked sparkly hazy kind of way. Buck can only imagine what he must look like.

He steps into Tommy's space, gratified when Tommy doesn't pull away or stumble from keeping them steady. "I want you to fuck me."

"Tonight?"

Buck smiles at the concern in his voice. Maybe they could, but.. "Next week? I kinda wanna work up to it."

Tommy's hands - those soothing, caring hands - shift in a soothing motion up and down Buck's flanks. "Of course. We can take it slow."

Slow, Buck thinks ruefully. None all of his girlfriends ever accused Buck of taking things slow. But he wants to, with Tommy. He wants to experience everything. "I like slow." With one last peck to Tommy's lips he leads them up to his shower, hand in hand.

send me more bottom!buck prompts

[raccoonfallsharder]

sunshine ☀︎ ⋆⁺☁︎⋆₊⊹ book one of kinktober 2024

kinktober 2024 | navigation | fanfiction 18+ only | no use of y/n | f!reader | 4 parts | word count: 37,320. read book one now ☀︎ ⋆⁺☁︎⋆₊⊹ [COMPLETE]

you take a stranger home for a night of celebration. why not? after all, it’s not like there will be any longterm ramifications. an expansion on day 15 of kinktober 2023.

CONTEXT: mcu-based, post-endgame, grumpy/sunshine vibes (obviously), “secret affair” (no cheating), workplace romance??, angst, comfort, relationship anxiety. sub reader/dom rocket. HEA of course.

☁︎⋆⁺☀︎ part one | dawn | wednesday, october 8.  a raccoon walks into a bar. KINKS/WARNINGS: public sex, spanking, pussy slapping, light praise/degradation, brief titplay/cunnilingus. use of "slut"/"fuckdoll" (affectionate).

☁︎⋆⁺☀︎ part two | merediem | thursday, october 10. after what was intended to be a one night stand, rocket & sunshine reader navigate the awkward aftermath of being new crewmates. oops. KINKS/WARNINGS: free-use negotiation, light dom/sub vibes, public sex, temperature play, light praise/degradation, inappropriate use of a coffee mug.

☁︎⋆⁺☀︎ part three | golden hour | wednesday, october 16. rocket steals all the warmth he can get before the sun inevitably sets. aka, last call. KINKS/WARNINGS: free-use, sex toys, edging, brief somnophilia, nipple-play, dom/sub vibes, pussy-claiming, sensation play, light dom/sub vibes, light praise/degradation, shower sex. 

☁︎⋆⁺☀︎ part four | vespers | saturday, october 19. a little hair of the raccoon who bit you (and other remedies for heartbreak). KINKS/WARNINGS: free-use, soft/pleasure dom vibes, somnophilia, praise kink, body worship, edging??, biting/marking.

excerpt below. also, for the record, i do realize the ship in the moodboard is the milano and not the benatar, but the benetar is apparently a fucken cryptid that i can't get a good shot of.

The sound system you slip between is cacophonous, but the space behind it seems muted. For a half-second you consider the mechanics of sound and how all of it seems to be pumping away from you, but then the stranger uses your body’s momentum to sling you around by your wrist. You stumble into the little alcove, tumbling against the gold-velvet curtain and the exposed brick behind you — steadied only when the stranger catches you firmly by the hips, claws pricking you right through the satin in a way that makes your thighs clench unexpectedly. Your breath catches at the strength of his palms. You hadn’t realized how strong he was when he’d been guiding you through the dancers and drunks — probably because you’d been so eager to follow — but the way he manages the imbalance of your body despite his low vantage point has your eyes widening as he crowds you back against the brick. Your shoulderblades and spine hit the rough surface bruisingly, and the wall scrapes against your skin, stinging. The stairs and the wall and the curtain — the back of the speakers — all muffle the noise of the club, but you’re still close enough to the stage that you can feel the music: thudding, thunderous — vibrating your collarbone and lungs. Elsewhere, too. The stranger stares up at you, eyes still flashing like dark grenadine and stoplights in the flakes of spinning light. He stands in the opening of the curtain and the staircase, and you can see the haze of people and glitter and sound behind him, spangled with the reflections off of cocktail glasses, and prisms of iolite and topaz and opal. You lift your right hand to press against the underside of the steps, and your left to brace against one of the load-bearing columns that hold up the loft. The brick must be gray, but it looks blue in this light, rough and scraping against your back. “You sure, doll?” He’s not yelling, but you can tell he has to raise his voice so you can hear him. You reply only by licking your lips and taking a breath to steady yourself, then dropping your hands to your sides. You curl your fingers into the tight, gleaming black satin of your dress, and inch it slowly up your thighs. You don’t take your eyes off his. He doesn’t look away either — not even as his hand reaches out, slow and tense. He pauses, and then taps his fingers lightly against your inner thigh. It’s meant to be a question, you think — but you oblige immediately, wiggling the skirt hem higher, widening your legs so he can slip in deeper between them. Closer. You can feel the warm, smooth calluses of his fingers and the prickle of his claws as they slide between your thighs, the side of his palm brushing against the gauzy-thin fabric over your cunt — thumb suddenly offering a single, deft stroke between your folds to nudge against your clothed clit. You jolt, every muscle suddenly locking, core turning absolutely molten — dripping right into the sheer panel of swiss-dot lace between your thighs.

read book one now ☀︎ ⋆⁺☁︎⋆₊⊹ kinktober 2024 | navigation | fanfiction masterlist

orange support/mdni banners and fairylight dividers by @/saradika-graphics | yellow flower dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[upinteriors]

Casa Vargem Grande by Juliana Ayako and Zebulun Arquitetura

Casa Vargem Grande deals with topography through the creation of a continuous spatiality that unfolds over the slope of the land.

The house is divided into 5 staggered slabs connected by a continuous and open staircase-corridor that guarantees the maintenance of the view that crosses the land from the front to the back, where there is the condominium's forest reserve. The views vary along the percouse throughout the staggering slabs, unfolding at times towards the base of the valley, at times towards the reserve, and at times towards the peak of the mountains.

The module of the BTC brick and the slope of the terrain determined the size of the slabs and the difference in elevation between them. In this way, the project was measured through rows and blocks instead of centimeters and meters.

The lateral facades are blind and structural in BTC brick - with the exception of a small window - creating an axis that connects the reserve at the back of the house to the valley located in front. These plans guarantee the creation of an interior courtyard which the house faces, closing off the dense context on its sides.

To generate the feeling of a single-story staggered house, a lightweight metal roof rests on the structural BTC walls of the side facades and the round metal pillars of the front and back facades. This continuous roof makes an inflection in the height of the third slab, opening the view towards the top of the valley and creating a mezzanine.

The direct dialogue between the house and the topography and the use of concrete and BTC blocks reflect the weight of the work. The building is placed on the ground, rests on it and ensures that all bedrooms, living room and kitchen have access to the patio and external areas. At the bottom of each slab, the construction touches the ground where the continuous beams-columns meet. Its front, always elevated, guarantees the downward flow of water, avoids major cuts in the land and allows the passage of some small animals that move between the houses.

Design: Juliana Ayako, Zebulun Arquitetura Location: Teresópolis, State of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil Year: 2023 Photography: Federico Cairoli

[scotianostra]

On June 1st 1878 the first Tay rail bridge opened.

The Tay bridge was nearly two miles long, consisting of 85 spans and at the time was the longest bridge in the world. The spans carried a single rail track; 72 of these were supported on spanning girders below the level of the track; the remaining 13 navigation spans were spanning girders above the level of the track (i.e. the train runs through a tunnel of girders).

A railway bridge across the Tay had widespread support but from the start the design of the bridge was roundly criticised, its single track particularly so on grounds of both capacity and stability. As construction began, the designer Thomas Bouch was forced to change his plans for the bridge. The foundations and bases were redesigned, the original brick piers replaced with braced cast iron columns and the number of spans was reduced which made each significantly wider.

The first engine crossed the bridge in September, 1877. A Board of Trade inspection was conducted over three days of good weather in February 1878; the bridge was passed for use by passenger traffic, subject to a 25 mph (40 km/h) speed limit. The inspection report noted: When again visiting the spot I should wish, if possible, to have an opportunity of observing the effects of high wind when a train of carriages is running over the bridge

Despite ongoing difficulties in its construction, the bridge was opened with much celebration on this day 1878. Within a year it had increased the fortunes of the North British Railway as well as those for Dundee and towns throughout Fife. Passenger numbers between Dundee and Fife doubled and the railway saw a 40% increase in freight traffic.

However, on the night of 28 December 1879 and in a terrible storm, the thirteen central ‘high girders’ of the bridge fell down. The subsequent Court of Inquiry fundamentally blamed the design of the bridge for the collapse, and its judgement rested on Thomas Bouch. Subsequent investigations over the years has largely exonerated Bouch but he never recovered from the disaster, he died aged 50 over two years later.

[lurkerwithcomputer]

Heyo, Tokyo ghoul people, I've got a question: does anyone who knows some architecture and some Japanese history have a good estimate/theory for what decade the Old Dragon's underground city was built/is from? When was the old One-Eyed King's rebellion?

I've got some rough ideas, but could use input from people with more knowledge.

It's more "modern" looking than I expected, to start with.

The architecture definitely isn't traditional Japanese. It's got blocky, squareish buildings and there's a lot of smashed faux-Greco-Roman-looking columns laying around.

Makes me think of periods where Japan had to copy Western styles of... a lot of things, really, to be taken seriously as a country on the world stage.

Here's probably the best/clearest panel of it:

Of course, lots of stone and earthwork, and concrete and brick made of that stone and earth, would be expedient building materials for a city built underground. I mean they had to dig all that out in the first place, unless they were exploiting natural caves and just making them bigger (but that's still a huge project and likely produced absolute shitloads of fill).

(I do know the end date, where it can't be any later: the underground city has to pre-date WW2, for hopefully obvious reasons. But also for a less obvious one - the traditionalism movement(s) that fed Japanese nationalism at the time, whereas this architecture is based on imported Western designs, and those two cultural forces aren't compatible.)

[eyelambspider]

Picture You || Farah Ahmed Karim

⤷ summary : "do you picture me like i picture you? am i in the frame from your point of view? do you feel the same?" - Chappell Roan ♡

┊pairing : farah x fem!reader, alex keller ┊content warning : angst, one sided love, unreciprocated feelings, slightly suggestive, mentions of alcohol/smoking, heartbreak ┊word count : 1.1 k ┊a/n : i will also rewrite for a male!reader, but first thought was a fxf fic :)

Ten years had gone by in a flash. Each year, each day dancing across your vision like the most blissful death.

Something did die today.

Something buried deep down and protected by a cage of bone and sinew.

What-... god what you wouldn't do to rip out the beating mass to stop the pain it caused.

It beat like a broken drum against your throat as you laid witness to the suspicions you had-come true-carried out between two lovers in the dark of night,

Alone on the roof, always unable to sleep, you glanced down at the image below of him and her.

Farah and Alex, pressed against the crumbling brick wall in the tangles of a warzone, stealing away a moment to pretend the horrors around them ceased to exist. Indulging in a bubble of human comfort and touch.

Lips tangled together in a feverish dance, sucking in soft puffs of air in between while his lips trailed a shaky line down her jaw until his teeth found the smooth expanse of her brown skin.

No bombs could compare to the crushing feeling of watching her bare her neck to his heated kisses. No torture more exquisite in its pain as she exposed the column of her throat to his eager mouth. A soft, hitched sound spilled from her lips that crackled like napalm.

Farah's eyes fluttered closed as she allowed herself to indulge in something she could never truly have... And it broke your heart into a million pieces to watch.

To not be the one in his place. To not be the one from who her pleasure derived on, depended on.

A white hot coil of barbed wire constricted your throat, choking back a flood of emotion and baseless longing. A searing heat crept up over your body in a way you'd never known. Intense and heavy on your shoulders, the weight of the world suddenly feeling suffocating, bringing forth a wave of glassy tears to blind you from the vision of them entangled together.

Every fleeting moment of her, every image of that beautiful woman conjured up in an instant just to hurt you more.

Her smile, the genuine one that had her lips curling and eyes crinkling with warmth. Her voice, a comfort. Her presence like a lifeline.

Now the truth laid bare before you, blatant and unaltered as Alex's hands gripped her waist. She could never be yours, and it fizzed like a brand against the base of your throat as you watched on in silence.

Farah's soft sigh kissed your ears, ringing out like you'd always imagined it...

Every night, when the resistance would sleep and take shifts watching... In the dead of night, like this one, you would finally allow the image of her appear in your minds eye.

Her big brown eyes simmering with the same desire for you, flickering over your brows, eyes, nose and lips. Your fingers brushing over the ridge of her beautiful nose and cheekbones, a worshipper of this goddess on earth, molding her skin with your fingertips. Burning each ridge and caress into your soul with her in your arms. Laying chest to chest, face to face, lips hovering over each others in a butterflies kiss. Basking in each other like real people did.

If god had given you the chance, you would kiss her like the world was going to end. With a passion deeper than the oceans you would cross for her.

For her.

There was nothing in this world you wouldn't do for Farah. If she asked it, it was hers.

A rogue tear slipped from your eye with a silent plop, still watching as her half-gloved hands tangled in the back of Alex's hair, urging him closer. Drinking in his affections like it was the sweetest wine on her tongue.

Amongst a decade of pining, of stealing away memories with her you treasured and kept close to your heart like starfall, you remembered the night she danced with you.

Where she almost looked at you like that: With the same unbridled heat.

That night was foggy like a dream, one you replayed every time she caught your eye. The resistance was celebrating-for what reason you could hardly recall. Drinks and smoke filled the room of cracked walls, golden light filtering out from the windows as men and women danced and laughed like it was the last.

Farah hardly celebrated, not until it was really over, and you had known she would be sitting right there: outside in the cold, half of a cigarette dangling from her lips.

She turned her head as you appeared next to her and smiled, her eyes crinkling softly at the corners.

You had convinced her to dance. Out here in the cold moonless night, with nothing but the hushed remnants of music cascading from inside where the real party happened.

She wasn't one for dancing, but she still took your outstretched hand anyway, flicking her cigarette into the dirt and smothering the ash beneath the toe of her boot.

Your hands would never forget the way they held her. Sliding across her waist, her rough hand in yours, the image of her smiling eyes and pretty teeth seared into your soul.

Nothing else mattered that night. Not the name of the song playing wistfully in the background, not the reason the resistance was celebrating. Only the way the warm light danced across her skin.

For a night, not just her sister in arms, but a woman who asked her to dance.

And even the war seemed far away with her pressed so closely to you, her rare laugh filling the air as you showed her how to spin in your arms and come back into your embrace.

Over and over like a broken record, the image of her eyes swam across your blurred vision.

This night was like the one back then, cold and moonless.

And instead of her in your arms, she was in Alex's. Her eyes filled with reverence and a passion that would make even god envious of the man Alex Keller.

Another hot tear slid down your cheek, pain bubbling up in your throat until it was choking and hot.

You had to force the shell of your former self to turn away from the sight. Quietly slipping away as Farah's fingertips dug into his shirt and pulled him closer.

She deserved to be happy, whether it cost you your heart or not.

Farah would still always have the pieces of what remained in her hands.

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Final Page of Brick by Brick

Sorry to say, I think there are more letters than I thought in here. Based on what I was looking at earlier, I came up with these letters:

XXIYLXXXYXXOXXCACXLYIT

With an uncertainty on 2 y's and a c.

But sadly, I found more letters/words that are really hard to discern from the black shadow. I had wondered if it was layered letters that made up the shadows, and I'm not sure, but I do see a few different areas that I just can't make show up clearly enough to read.

Top Right: this one is on the very top. It honestly looks like "jerks" to me, but it could be any number of things.

Top Left: After manipulating this one to hell and back, my best guess is UCDPWHNA__E. There are two columns of letters in this one.

Bottom Left: "OME" or "ONE" I think OME though. It could be Home or welcome. It does kind of look like a C in the front (this is on the very bottom next to the hay bale.

Bottom Right: Right side near the bottom, best guess is OSCEY and L or U on the bottom of the door?

This is disappointing because I was feeling pretty good about figuring out all the placement of the X's, and Those are going to probably be spaces or something in a phrase. There is an potential "x" behind that first word, and maybe one to the left, so I think there are lots.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Nott Manor looked like something that was built based on a Victorian Era Gothic novel. In fact, it was built during the Victorian Era after demolishing the old home that was wrought with decay and dark magic. The home sat on nearly 35 acres that had been passed through the male lineage and was located right in the middle of Derbyshire, surrounded by thick woods.

The home was all slate gray stone and bricks built into a three story manor that donned pointed rooftops and cylinder shaped columns on either side. The home had been there so long that the earth wanted to gobble it up. Ivy was growing alongside the front of the house and along the edges, almost all the way up to the second story. Age and weather darkened the shingles and along the edges, appearing to be a rather sad little home, even in the middle of a bright and sunny afternoon.

Overall, the home looked quaint, even for a manor that had passed through generations of Notts. But these lands were heavily guarded by dark magic and impenetrable wards. Not even the ministry bothered Theo. They knew what he did for a living, often hiring him themselves. But the history of the Nott family and the danger of entering into their land without Nott’s permission was too dangerous.

And beneath the home was the most wicked slice of property.

It was accessible through the woods that hugged the southside of the property. A cellar door was built into the middle of the woods and inside of this door, were stairs that led them deep underground. The cellars were stone and frigid cold. Moisture dripped from the walls, as if the land itself wept for anyone unfortunate enough to be placed within.

The cellar went deep and consisted of a very large, open room that held several small cells barred off. But each cell allowed a view into the middle of the room where a large, stone slab dais sat. A table for working on prisoners, adorned with leather straps bolted into the rock.

Currently, Cormac McLaggen was huddled into the cell furthest in, huddled against the stone walls and Draco could barely recognize the man. One of his eyes was so badly beaten that it was swollen shut and the skin was tight and black with blood that was trapped beneath the surface. He had a broken nose that appeared to be healed several times before it was beaten again and again. His golden brown hair was tainted red and his clothes were dirty and also covered in blood.

Theo went to town on him, apparently having a field day with him before allowing Draco to have his turn.

The sound of Draco and Theo’s shoes clipping against stone and dirt caused McLaggen to jerk his head up in fear and his back to press further into the corner.

His one good eye was following their every step as they stepped into view.

With his hands in his pockets, Draco tilted his head to appraise the man who fooled the world into believing that he was decent. Into making everyone believe he had coveted Granger only to willingly hand her over to a psychopathy.

The memory of the way Cormac’s hand had gripped on Hermione’s. The way he had tried to lure her with lust in his eyes and evil in his heart...it was enough to make Draco want to kill him now.

And, he could.

He could kill him quickly, with a curse. He could take his time, dismembering him as he cried out for help. He could do it anyway he chose, because nobody would ever know.

Nobody would ever find him. He’d shrink each limb down into little bite sized pieces and then toss them into the fireplace that Theo’s ancestors installed into this room for that very reason.

But, he had to stay focused. He needed Cormac to talk.

“McLaggen,” Draco drawled as he stepped up to the bars. “Enjoying your stay at Nott Manor?” Cormac said nothing, only gulped and lifted his chin in defiance. “You should feel lucky.” Draco gripped onto a bar and slid his hand up, looking around at the tiny cell. “Not many people get invited inside.”

Theo chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned his hip against the raised, stone slab in the middle of the room. Along the wall opposite of the cells were tools meant to cut, cut and inflict the most amount of pain onto the human body. There was no need a wand here, in order to make a man speak. Draco didn’t need the magic that thrummed inside of him as he watched the man cower away as Draco moved to the cell door. Because this man had willingly pursued a woman he never intended on dating. He only had ill intentions and Draco found it hard to feel any remorse for what was about to happen to him as Theo flicked his wrist and allowed the door to spring open.

Cormac pushed himself further into the wall, uselessly kicking his bare feet against the dirty floor. They slid and slid and he went nowhere.

Nowhere, at all as Draco slowly stepped inside of the cell and pinned his cold dead stare onto him.

It was easy to slide back into this colder version of himself. It was where he had to live most of his life, particularly in public. And it wasn’t until his father was arrested and put on trial did Draco allow himself to reach the tips of his finger out for a bit of something good and warm.

It was what allowed him to kiss Granger that day outside of the courtroom.

But remembering the way she had hugged him before he kissed her? The way she had responded to him when he did? It was what allowed him to slip into this terrible person he had dreaded becoming again. Because he would do it if it meant she would remain safe. He would do it if it got him the answers he needed to make sure she stays alive.

“You have been a very naughty wizard, haven’t you, Cormac?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Theo clicked his tongue against his front teeth and wagged his finger at the man, illiciting more fear to grow in his eyes.

Crouching down in front of him, Draco rested his elbows on his knees and peered at him. Cold, murderous eyes met wide, frightened ones and for a moment, Draco said nothing. He simply allowed the fear and anxiety to build and build as he waited for whatever may come.

When Draco inhaled, McLaggen winced. Draco smirked as he spoke. “I’m going to give you one shot, Cormac.” He held up a finger. “Just one.” His eyes refused to release Cormac’s. “To tell me everything I want to know. When you, inevitablly, fail to give me what I want, I will have to force it out of you.”

Theo started to bounce on his heels, Draco could feel the anticipation in his friend from here.

“And there is no need for Veritaserum, here.” Draco waved a hand over his shoulder, gesturing to the wall of tools meant for today’s session. “Because you will, eventually, talk. You will tell me everything I want to know or I wont hand you over to the DMLE. I will not take pity on you. You will remain her, enduring anything Theo wishes to inflict upon you, every day.” He paused and allowed his eyes to roam Cormac’s face, reading the fear and disbelief hidden in his eyes before he finished. “Until your body gives out and your mind has checked out.” He stood and slid his hand back into his pocket. “And then you will die here. Alone.”

He spun on his heels and jerked his head at Theo. “Shall we get started?”

Theo wiggled his eyebrows before rushing past Draco and into the cell.

Cormac started to kick and scream. “No, no. Malfoy!” He was clawing at the floor and the wall as Theo grabbed a foot and began to drag him across the cell floor and toward the stone slab.

Draco turned around to observe the archaic and primitive devices of torture when the sound of bone snapping echoed in the room before Cormac’s howl erupted.

Spinning around, Draco lifted a brow as Theo let go of the man’s foot. It was twisted at an unnatural angle and was already turning black and blue. It was broken, twisted and snapped at the ankle. Draco sighed and lifted something off of the wall.

“Really, Theo?”

Theo rolled his eyes and shrugged before pulling his wand from the holster on his chest and aimed it at the man. Cormac’s body levitated into the air before it landed, clumsily, onto the stone slab. The straps quickly cinched over his ankles and his wrists before they tightened and pinned Cormac’s body to the rock.

“I really felt like he needed a reminder as to who, exactly, we are.”

“You’re fucking Death Eaters!” McLaggen lifted his head and snarled before he descended into a groan of pain as his broken ankle strained against the binds holding him down.

“Actually,” Draco slid the device up to Cormac’s hand and shoved his fingers in. A large metal screwed was attached to two slabs of metal. Once one was to start twisting the screw, the top slab would lower and lower until the fingertips were crushed and rendered useless. “I was the Death Eater.” Draco sniffed and began to twist the screw, watching with intrigue, as the top metal plate began to lower. “Of course, I didn’t want to be one, mind you. But, if you’re going to go around throwing accusations, you may as well get your facts straight.” He huffed when the plate finally met the pads of his fingers. “But, you know, we are not the ones in question here, McLaggen.” He twisted and twisted and Cormac began to growl in pain. His one good eye squeezed shut as his groans turned into screams.

“Yes.” Theo hummed and tilted his head, watching the fingers turn red and then blue as the bones began to break beneath the pressure. “What are you, McLaggen? What kind of prosecutor gives his date a glass of poisoned champagne?”

Draco’s lips pulled back as he bared his teeth, twisting and twisting the screw until skin began to break.

“I didn’t know it was poisoned!”

“Liar!” Draco stepped back and shoved his hair away from his forehead. “I saw Moore help you escape. You have been hounding Granger, practically begging her for a date.”

“Because I fancy her!” Cormac cried. “I’ve fancied her since school, you idiot!”

“Then why did you poison her?” Theo asked, calmly as Draco moved and grabbed a poker off of the wall. With his wand, he lit a fire and held it up to the tip of the prongs.

“I didn’t know it was meant to harm her.” He was panting through the pain, his eye wildly searching for Draco. “It was only supposed to knock her out.”

“Why?” Draco’s eyes glanced from the poker, to Cormac.

“Because I wanted to take her home with me. Moore told me that he would help me win her over.”

Draco snarled and stabbed him in the shoulder with the poker. “Win her over? How on earth would knocking her out win her over? What the hell did you plan on doing with her once you got her home, McLaggen?”

Theo rested his elbow onto Cormac’s chest and tucked his hand under his chin as he grinned down at him. “I think you should take his good eye, Dray.”

“His eye?” Draco frowned and pulled the poker out of his shoulder and held it up so that Cormac could see it. “With this?”

“Yes, he doesn’t need it to speak.” He batted his eyes down at Cormac. “Do you?”

Cormac was panting, gasping for air, his eye rolling around in pain. But he balked at Theo’s voice close to his face. “I wanted to fuck her!” He admitted, causing Theo to suck through his teeth and shake his head.

The heat of anger dissipated, and Draco was struck anew with that frigid cold. it was like death, seeping out from his pores. Death he could deliver to anyone he deemed worthy of it.

“You knew she didn’t want you.” His voice was just as cold. Just as dead.

“You or Weasley don’t deserve her!” Cormac’s angry was suddenly bursting out of him. “Weasley is a useless idiot and you!” He laughed. “You are nothing but the worst kind of trash.”

“And you?” Theo continued to dig his elbow into Cormac’s chest. “You, the mighty prosecutor with big dreams to turn politician? What was your end game? To force Granger into being your wife so that you could run for minister and have all of the support she fought for to be bestowed onto you?”

Draco could see Cormac’s death, now. It would be so fucking easy. And it would feel good. He didn’t want to use the poker. He didn’t want to use a knife or even a wand. He wanted to use his hands.

“She would have made the perfect trophy wife.” Cormac sneered up at Theo.

But Theo was smiling, serenely. As if Cormac had said exactly what he hoped he would have said. Unbeknownst to him or even Draco, tucked into Theo’s right hand which was resting on the slab just beside Cormac’s right side, was a knife meant for gutting game.

Cormac grunted as the blade jabbed into his side, right between two ribs, while Theo kept his eyes trained on his and watched the man grow pale as the knife twisted.

Theo was taking over for Draco because he had to. Draco was going to kill Cormac. And then they would never get the information they needed. And then his soul would be tainted in a way he had worked to avoid for years and years.

Because, he wanted to save his soul to match Hermione’s. The idea reminded him that she was at home, waiting for him. She knew he could be a bad man and she wanted him anyway.

Draco dropped the heavy, iron poker and watched Cormac flinch as it clattered against the stone. “Tell me about Moore.“