#double glazed addition

[makeupasmydrug]

Adelaide Contemporary Exterior Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary gray one-story metal exterior home remodel with a shed roof

[kentucky-daisey]

Okay, okay, okay, hear me out. Earl grey shortbread cookies with lemon zest and a thin lemon and powdered sugar glaze, okay? Do you understand? Do you UNDERSTAND!?

[thewritingofspencerrose]

mclaren masterlist : masterlist

New Addition

Lando Norris x OC Inspired by Mclaren surprising Lando with the puppies! I've had this in the drafts for a while, but was lacking a lot of writing drive lately, so we'll see if this gets me back into the groove!

The week began as they always do when we're just beginning the summer break.

Lan and I, lazying about the condo in the morning, simply enjoying each others company, before he is called off to MTC and I hop online for my asynchronis classwork.

It's our routine that I love so much, no matter how chaotic, before we take off on whatever adventures he has planned for us for the next few weeks.

Today was different though.

I spent the morning sick as a sailor, Lan holding my hair back and wiping my forehead with a damp towel. That is, until he had to go in to the MTC for a filming session, one he had convinced the uppers to allow Max to film for a Quadrant day in the life. His hesitance was written all over his face, but with a bit of convincing and the promise that I would invite a friend over, I was able to coax him out the door.

"It sounds like you've had a long morning," Kelly sighs with a frown, sitting across from me. When I had called her up, she and P were more than happy to come keep me company. There may be nearly twelve years between us, but from the moment Max and Lando introduced the two of us, it was easy to bring Kelly into my life as the elder sister I so dearly wished for as a child. And now she's here, her daughter's head fast asleep on my lap as I card my fingers through her hair.

"It's just that I am so rarely sick that to be this sick is more annoying than anything," I try to explain, "We're supposed to leave to travel with Martin in a week and I just can't keep being ill, my least favorite thing in life is feeling like I'm not up to my usual speed."

Kelly's eyes light up a bit, glazing over in a look of recognition. "Have you had any other weird symptoms lately? Anything you should keep in mind if you call the doctor?"

"Just some extra tenderness and I've been exhausted, but it's been a long few weeks with the double header and triple header nearly back to back," Its an explanation, one all of the girlfriends have discussed while sipping drinks over the weekends away.

The older of the two can't help but smile, "Dahlia, how about we run to the corner store and see about a test or two?"

A test? A test!

Oh my God.

"Baby? It's me!" Lan's smooth voice follows click of the door. He's always so loud while out and about, but home, with me, he's so soft.

It's why he's so good with kids at the track.

With Leo and Roscoe and Simba.

With me.

"In the kitchen, love!" In the kitchen with a bag that will change everything.

And there's a yip. A tiny little bark that has my brows furrowing and thoughts leaving my head.

"Lan? What was that noise?" Feet tapping against the ground, I can hear his approach as I step away from the cutting board, the yipping sound continuing. "Okay Lan honestly, what is that-"

It's his rounding the corner that cuts off the all the thoughts that have been spiraling through my head since Kelly, P and I took our little adventure.

He has a dog. In his arms. A little one that is squirming every which way, a collar the color of his race suit around its neck.

Lan has a hesitant smile, the same one he had when he asked me out way back when, and the same one I wasn't expecting to see today. "Surprise?"

My hands find him hips with little thought, staring him down. "Lando Norris, why do you have a dog?"

"I was hoping she could be the newest member of our family?" Oh he's in for something else in a minute or two.

She's is adorable, all happy and squirmy as she rests in whats basically the size of Lan's palm. It's why I move towards him, taking the little thing into my arms and letting her lap at me. "Where did you even find her?"

"Mclaren promo video for a shelter, I spent the morning with dogs and she just really seemed to like me! Stayed in my lap the whole time! So I couldn't just let her be taken back when I knew we could offer her a home!" He's stepping closer, breathe gently fanning over my head as he scratches the pups, his eyes meeting my own with a softness I wasn't expecting. "I know I can't commit to a real kid for a few years, but I was thinking that she could take that place in the mean time."

"About that-" I begin, knowing now is the only right time to mention it. "You know how I was throwing up all morning? And for the last few weeks?"

Theres a spark, the light recognition of an idea in his head, but all he does is nod.

"Well, I had Kelly and P over today while you were out, and we got talking as we do, and she suggested that I take a test."

"A test?" He's piecing this all together.

"A pregnancy test."

"And?" Tears are pooling in his eyes, and while we've discussed kids, we've never discussed the possibility of kids this early, while he's at the peak of his career. "You can't just leave me on a cliff hanger like that, Babe."

"What do you want the answer to be?"

"Babe," This may be the one time in Lando's life that he's stern out of bed.

"It was positive."

There's a pause, the longest of my life, if it wasn't for the fact it was only mere seconds before his arms are wrapped around me, nearly crushing the puppy between us who's only thought is to continue yipping happily. "Lan, baby, I'm going to need something verbal here."

His eyes are meeting mine again, tears trailing down his cheeks as his million dollar smile shines. His hands are still planted on my hips, keeping us close. "You could not have said anything to make me happier than I am right now," and there's so much emotion behind each and every word that I can't help but begin to cry as well. "We're having a baby!"

I can't help but giggle at his joy, "We are! And we have a puppy!"

His lips meet mine, before coming down and meeting the dogs head, nearly bouncing out of his skin. "This is perfect babe, we'll be able to train her and by the time baby Norris is born she'll be ready to be her best friend!"

"Her?"

"I'm calling it now," He states as if it's a matter of fact, curls bopping on his head as he moves. Our lips meet once more, smiles making it awkward like our teenage years, but with so much joy it feels infectious. "Oh my God I need to call Carlos!"

"You what?" There is no way Carlos is the one on his mind right now.

"I have to tell him that Pinon has a new friend! And I'm going to be a dad! He can stop making jokes about me being a child!" He may just be more enthusiastic about this than the baby or the dog. But he's Lando, and I'll give him a time for it later, because seeing him this enthusiastic is a sight too good to miss.

[airas-story]

https://www.tumblr.com/airas-story/772167786985291776/identity-porn-ironstrange-maybe-they-cant-stand?source=share

Sequel please!

First drabble here!

His phone buzzed.

Stephen slid his phone out of his pocket, glancing around to make sure no one would catch him. Unlike certain people—he glanced at Stark, very obviously on his phone—Stephen liked to pretend to be attentive.

It was Edward. Please remind me that murder is not a good option.

Stephen swallowed down a laugh. I don’t think they let you text in prison, he responded. I’d miss you. He double checked no one was paying attention. Mr. Superiority Complex driving you up a wall?

Edward responded immediately. Actually, he’s fine right now. Paying about as much attention as I am. We had last minute additions. Who have never had a lecture they can’t turn long-winded. I’d call them windbags, but that’s insulting to windbags.

Stephen choked on a laugh, turning it into a cough as several people looked at him. He understood Edward entirely. His and Stark’s meeting had turned into a full-on Avengers meeting when two Accords Council Members had shown up for a ‘spot inspection’.

He paused. What were… No. But the odds… He glanced around the room. Steve’s eyes were glazed over. Natasha looked like she was plotting an escape route in her head, and the others looked half asleep.

Honestly, Stark, on his phone, was probably paying the most attention.

Stark. On his phone.

But…

I know the feeling, Stephen texted. I’d take a meeting with Sir Future-Homicide-Victim over the meeting I’m in.

He focused on Stark. A smile flickered over Stark’s lips and Stephen watched him type on his phone.

Didn’t you say something about not being allowed to text in prison? Edward replied. Don’t get me wrong, I’d pay your bail, but seems inconvenient.

Stephen swallowed, not sure how to respond. Because Edward…

Surely not, right?

But… But what if?

[calqlate]

RE: LOVE & LIFE | FOUR

— WHERE THE LILY SLEEPS

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

PAIRING(S): zhongli x f! reader + diluc x f! wife! reader

SUMMARY: As the wife of the famous big shot in the wine industry, you have everything you could ever ask for — a beautiful mansion, endless wealth, servants at your beck and call... However, you lack the one thing you yearn for: love. With your beloved husband neglecting you and being stuck in a loveless marriage, you decide to end it all, only to be stopped by a man whom you have never met before, and who also coincidentally happens to be your soulmate. In addition, there just might seem to be more than what meets the eye in regards to your peculiar soulmate, and you just might have to find that out for yourself.

TAGLIST (italicised blogs are unable to be tagged, pls dm me with your updated username): @crescentmoonnn + @deeomi + @esthelily + @holaseniorahoe + @loving-august + @mshope16 + @needsleep3000 + @nerdiel-has-no-braincells + @saintbernardthethird + @seyboo + @thelonelyarchon

A/N: apologies for the wait, school has been a pain in the butt (and grad school applications have been insane). here's the new chapter!

Upon reaching the entrance of Wangshu Hotel, you turned to face Zhongli and bowed, “Thank you for accompanying me, Mr. Zhongli. I appreciate it.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Zhongli mirrored you and returned the bow, a small smile on his face.

There was a moment of comfortable silence as you made eye contact with Zhongli. With the way the sun was setting slightly in the distance, the sun’s rays were angled in such a manner whereby Zhongli was seemingly casted in a golden halo, making him seem ethereal. Otherworldly, even. Somehow, that particular moment looked immensely picturesque, yet hauntingly familiar.

“You have been staring at me for some time,” Zhongli’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you blinked, “Is there perhaps something on my face?”

“No, no, not at all!” you shook your head and smiled, “I just thought that you looked wonderful in the light.”

Zhongli stared at you, unblinking. Neither him nor you were speaking, and the weight of your earlier sentence settled over you. Oh, Archons, I just blurted whatever I had on my mind without thinking again, didn’t I?

Your face flushed bright red in embarrassment as you choked out, “I’m sorry! I have a tendency to speak freely sometimes.”

To your surprise, Zhongli chuckled as his eyes crinkled into little crescent moons, “There is no need to feel ashamed. It’s quite a refreshing habit you have.”

“That’s a really polite excuse,” you groaned as you smacked yourself inwardly. You really needed to stop being so loose-lipped. You nodded your head in the direction of the hotel as you spoke, “I should head back now.”

“I hope you rest well tonight,” Zhongli said as he clasped his hands behind his back with a nod.

“Goodbye, Mr. Zhongli,” you said as you raised your hand up for a wave before turning around to head back into the hotel.

Zhongli watched your figure retreat into the hotel. Only did he see you get past the double glass doors and were safely tucked into the premises then he finally made his own trip back to the funeral parlour.

(Knowing how nosy his boss could be, Celestia forbid her from badgering him for his whereabouts.)

While drying your hair with a towel, you sat down in front of the little dressing table and pulled the little trinket you had received earlier in the day out of its paper bag. It was a fazhan hairpin made out of jade, adorned with Glaze Lillies crafted from minerals on one end of it.

The moment you laid your eyes on the hairpin, something stirred in your heart. You furrowed your brows together as you picked it up gently, cradling it in your palms. This hairpin seemed... familiar, somehow, but you could not understand why. It was your first time laying eyes on it, and you had never chanced upon hairpins with a similar design before.

“Ma’am! I’ve found something!” you called Madam Ping over.

The old woman walked over and eyed the accessory in your hands before her eyes widened for a fragment of a second. Before you could ask her what was wrong, she smiled gently at you, “Wonderful choice, child.” A pause, then she asked, “Do you like it?”

“It is beautiful,” you said as you stared at the hairpin, a smile spreading across your lips. Waves of nostalgia surged in your veins, tinged with... sadness? Melancholy? You could not quite place a finger on the name of the emotion that was filling you.

“This hairpin has finally found its owner,” Madam Ping smiled, “I hope you will create beautiful memories with it this time.”

You nodded, taking her cryptic message as a passing remark, “I will.”

You rolled the hairpin back and forth between your fingers, the dim lighting of your hotel suite reflecting off the Glaze Lilly decorations in a sparkly manner. A part of you could not bear to wear it; you wanted to keep it in a glass box and immortalise it as a souvenir from your trip. However, an innate part of you was insisting that you should not do that, and instead wear it out as intended.

Carefully, you set it down on the dressing table, I’ll wear it out tomorrow.

You were standing in an expansive field full of Glaze Lillies. No matter how far you walked, it seemed like there was no end to this particular flower field. You walked leisurely, admiring the endless sea of flowers surrounding you.

You halted your footsteps, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath in. The air was fresh and the fragrant scent of the flowers permeated in the air.

You opened your eyes, drinking the scenery in. This entire place was picturesque, as if you had stepped right into a painting. If only your husband were here—

“There you are.”

You turned around at the sound of a voice, your eyes settling on the figure of a man approaching you. The man was dressed in a long, dark brown robe dotted with golden accents, his head partially blurred out due to the sunlight obstructing your view as well as the distance between the both of you. Despite not being able to discern his countenance properly, you could instinctively tell that this man was the one your heart was beating so ardently for: your husband.

However, as the distance between both of you grew smaller, the sunlight started framing his face in a better angle and his features grew all the more clearer: straight, dark hair with gold tips and a matching pair of eyes set on a handsome face, with skin so fair it could rival that of the colour of a Glaze Lily’s petals. It was not Diluc; it was the funeral parlour consultant, Zhongli.

While he was not who you were expecting, your lips curled upward into a smile as if it were second nature to you. You could feel the warmth in your chest overflow you and fill every vein in your body, with every cell in your body having an affectionate reaction to this man. You opened your mouth to call out his name, but not a single word came out: your mouth was indeed moving, but your voice was completely muted, as if someone had muted the audio function on a video.

“What were you thinking about so intently?” Zhongli asked as he stood next to you, hands clasped behind his back.

“The war,” you answered as your smile dropped considerably at the thought of the heavy topic, then averted your gaze to the side, “Just... I wish that it didn’t have to reach this point.”

Zhongli’s smile took a bittersweet edge to it, “There is no need to worry. Just think of this war as one to quell some... social unrest.”

You snorted, “That’s a really polite way of putting it. What would the other adepti think?”

“I am sure they would agree and give similar remarks of their own,” he responded. There was a brief pause as his gaze softened, “After this is all over, may I ask you to accompany me for some tea?”

You turned your head and met his gaze: it was warm, sincere, and full of affection — a look that would not be given to mere acquaintances. In addition, his tone of voice felt as though there was something he wanted to tell you. Something deeper and perhaps even more intimate. If it were up to you, you would have asked him to spill the beans there and then, but given the situation of the aforementioned war (which you had very little idea about), you concluded that you would wait. Once everything wad over, you would sit him down and ask him to confide in you and confess everything to you.

You could only smile and nod, “Of course. You know I’d never pass up tea from the one and only—”

You tried verbalising his name out loud again, but your voice was seemingly robbed from you once more. However, it seemed that he did hear you say his name: Zhongli’s response was a simple hum, and both of you turned to admire the sea of Glaze Lillies in comfortable silence.

When the morning came, you awoke with your eyes feeling heavier than ever, as if you had cried for a long time. You raised your hand to your cheeks, feeling damp skin beneath your fingertips. Your fingers glided higher towards the base of your eyes. With one quick swipe, you felt moisture on your skin. Was I crying in my sleep?

At that moment, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You reached out and grabbed it, seeing a notification pop up, reading that a bank transfer had been made to your account. You unlocked your phone to check the deposit, which your bank app read, “Incoming bank transfer from Diluc Ragnvindr”, and below it was a string of numerical digits. A text message soon popped up from your husband, which read, “Have fun in Liyue”.

You frowned. You were rudely reminded of this particular trait of your husband which you detested: sending you money instead of checking in on you or spending time with you. You scoffed, Does he really believe that quality time can be bought with money?

Whatever the case may be, you refused to use his money. No, not when it was a cheap means to placate you. Husband be damned; you were going to spend your own money and have fun on your own in this foreign country.

You eyed the hairpin glittering from its spot on the dresser and grinned. The first thing on the agenda would be accomplished with the accessory.

[1-800-local-slut]

Teen Witch

This is just angst; you and Stiles break up lol. Look I know it's kinktober but I needed a break from writing porn, but we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programing tomorrow!

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Your new carpet, ruined. How was it ruined? Your boyfriend's best friend was currently bleeding out on it, and you were very very upset with him. You'd told him so many times if he needed your help, that he needed to call first. Not break into your fucking house and make so much noise that you had to thank your lucky stars that your parents weren't home- yet.

Back to Scott, he was currently seizing on your carpet and that was a problem. In addition to the blood, he was now vomiting. A lot. They owed you two hundred dollars like right now. You grumbled, as you attempted to stabilize the seizing teenager, and Alison was holding Scott's hand while Isaac attempted to hold the new alpha in place.

It was no easy feat, he was foaming at the mouth, eyes crazed and glowing while he swung through the air almost scratching one of your eyes out. You yelped as you got down onto your knees to try and help as much as you could. What was wrong with him in the first place?

You barked out the question as you pulled out a box from under your bed. It was sealed, a sigil you had drawn with your own blood and ashes from your most recent spell after a breach through your bedroom's defenses against Ms. Blake. Opening the box, you pulled out a healing potion that you created just a few days ago when your dearest friend Lydia Martin had jumped out of her sleep muttering about 'wells' and 'ice cubes'. Now, you were no banshee but that couldn't have been a good sign from her.

"Hold his head so I can pour this into his mouth." You ordered Stiles, who was standing there a bit worthlessly at the moment. Dropping to his knees besides you, his hand brushed up against your thighs, which was a startling reminder that this happened in the middle of the night because you liked white men.

You were woken up out of your sleep in the middle of the night by Stiles standing over your bed, with that gorgeous nervous smile. It would be cute if Stiles had a key to your house or your window didn't have a steel bat holding your window open for Isaac to shove the seizing Scott through it while Allison barricaded your bedroom door.

As you poured the clear liquid down Scott's throat, and while Stiles held his snarling face in his hands, Scott really was a bit too strong for his britches. And naturally that was a problem for you. You just repaired your bedroom, which doubled as your sanctuary. Where your spell books, plants, herbs, collections, crystals, ashes, everything, were held. Where a witch rests her head at night is incredibly important.

After you had a rather rough squabble with Jennifer Blake, you had some serious repairs to make and not even a day later, Stiles was pushing someone into your bedroom window.

You couldn't have Scott destroy everything you literally just rebuilt. After all your parents were mad enough when you had to go out and pick out all of the herbs from your mothers garden.

With a small syringe, you gently turned his head over to the side and lined up with his shaking form. He was trembling and eyes were glazing over, blue liquid (?) leaking out of his mouth. You would've left him this way if not for the tremors getting more intense. What looked like rabies was not clearing up with the help of your potion. In fact, it just helped his physical ailments, but did not do much for his mental state. Without throwing up and growling he'd certainly be able to focus enough to take out one of your eyes like he almost did when they got his head down flat on a pillow.

"What is that?" Allison asked as you sunk the needle slowly into his neck and focused.

"Concentrated mountain ash." Like a vaccine almost. It was just enough to slow him down but not kill him. Maybe a little bit more for the brand-new true Alpha. Stiles winced beside you, preparing for the uproar of disapproval from Allison and Isaac. You were a bit new to town, so they weren't really used to you yet.

In the sense of, you and your family were the first witches to come to Beacon Hills in six hundred years. They were all so used to the gentle and kind nature of their emissary the lovely Alan Deaton. You were not gentle. You were a witch, loyal to yourself. And that meant drugging one of your friends to keep him from hurting you and possibly destroying your house.

Nice and gentle druids, healers who would never harm others intentionally. Kind and wise, who dedicated themselves to being helpful and supportive guides to the supernatural community around them.

Not witches. Wicked witches who cursed and hexed. Wicked witches who had the power to heal and destroy. To give and take. Wicked witches who weren't interested in getting clawed apart to save some people who think you're nothing short of evil.

So, when you came to town and were the shining star of Beacon Hills after just a few weeks they knew something was up.

Stiles, ever attracted to women who could kill him with a hard glare, fell for you faster than you could telepathically throw someone across the room.

So now, four months later, Allison was gaping at you in disbelief for poisoning her situ-relation-boyfriend-ex, whatever was going on, you didn't really care to know. Whenever Stiles tried explaining it to you, you just told him you didn't really care and went back to making out with him. And why would Stiles be mad about that?

Scott stopped struggling, the mixture of plants slowed his heart rate enough to fall into a fit full sleep. Now, the issue was your carpet turning a really nasty and wet shade of purple. Literally filled with the mixture from Scott's body. Just disgusting.

"Get this mess off of my floor, and someone is running me two hundred dollars for my carpet."

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"Okay. So, he got super rabies. And you brought him to my house?" Scott was now resting in your tub, wearing only his boxers as you had a big t-shirt he could fit into but nothing else, after you had hosed him down in your shower.

He was sweating profusely, and he muttered something about 'falling down' it was odd. You scratched your head, your bonnet sliding down your forehead. It was 1:52 in the morning.

Literally awful. Your bathroom floors were cold, it was cold in general, and they were just in your house. Allison had a slightly cold look in her eyes. The Argent girl no doubt heard about your kind. Heard about your family. And while you two had communicated before, there was no doubt she was seeing where the rumors came from now.

If Wicked Witch had a defined photo, it would be your ancestors. Your great grandma, your grandma, your aunts and cousins, your mother, and now you. You wouldn't call it wicked. More so, ambition that other creatures think to be a hindrance.

If you were so wicked, you would've tossed them all out of your house the moment you saw Stiles grinning over you. But you loved Stiles, so you could stop being devious for long enough to lend a hand. This was a bit much to ask of you though.

Lately, you and Stiles were going through something of a rough patch. You only saw each other during what seemed like moments of high stress. When you were helping Deaton, creating some sort of spell or object for the pack, or saving a life. Or running for yours.

That obviously didn't help a relationship, which often resulted in you two screaming at each other on the car ride home. And the makeup sex was starting to no longer be worth losing your energy. Was it great? Yes, but you'd like to have sex with your boyfriend without having to scream at him. Like that embarrassing spat last week where you yelled 'I hate you don't talk to me' in front of everyone and then stole his car keys forcing him to walk all the way to your house in order to get home.

The sex that night? Magical. He really gave his all into apologizing to you.

This was another fight. Because when Stiles didn't consider you, it hurt. There were boundaries- you had boundaries- and none of them seemed to understand that. Why would you want to be woken up like this? Perhaps you'd be less cross if he had stuck to his promise of making more time for you and being a bit more considerate of you having to clean up his messes. Considering he made the promise last night, you truly hoped this time it would last longer. Perhaps this just was not for you.

Pinching the bridge of your nose and taking a deep breath, you shook your head. Isaac and Allison stood in your bedroom, whispering amongst themselves, while Scott laid unconscious in the tub. Steadying yourself, you looked at Stiles who was sitting with his head down on the edge of the tub.

"Do I look like a vet?"

"...Well considering recent events-" The words died on his lips, when he saw you tearfully looking at him. Why were you crying? Because you just noticed the crack in your floor from when Scott jumped awake while you were transporting him to the tub. And once again, you realized you'd have to clean that up. Oh, also you noticed Stiles grabbing his keys in his jacket pocket. Was he about to run off and leave Scott with you here? Where was he even about to go?

Here you were, with your AP Bio test first thing tomorrow morning and your boyfriend pushed you across the line once more. How many more emergencies would fall on you? It wasn't his fault. He joined a pack. But there was a certain point that things reached.

"...This isn't working Stiles." Allison and Isaac stopped the whispering, at your low voice. Both of them turned their head to look into your bathroom where you had your arms wrapped around your stomach and had fat tears rolling down your face.

Stiles gaped in disbelief and shook his head slightly before he swallowed thickly. Glancing behind you he got up and shook out his shoulders before he closed the door to the bathroom. This was one conversation he couldn't have any one witness. And Scott was knocked out in the tub, so he hardly counted.

"There's a line Stiles. And you guys crossed it again and again. You promised me last night that you would try setting harder boundaries. You just broke into my room and my new carpet is ruined. You couldn't call? You know anytime of night you call; I answer, you text I respond. I was fine doing all of this when it felt like we were together. When we did things together. Stiles, when was the last time you took me out to dinner, when's the last time we went out on a date, when's the last time I've seen you without everyone attached to you?

You aren't even my boyfriend anymore, you're some guy who I see sometimes when he needs help. Like I'm some sort of booty call except we haven't been having any good sex either because I haven't seen you. And when we do see each other, we just fight. Or have really angry sex that I don't even enjoy anymore." It came out a soft whisper, eyes watering and lip quivering. Staring down at the floor you couldn't even look at him. You couldn't do it.

This was for the two of you. You weren't happy. Nothing he did could make up for it after tonight. You can't push that on him, that's just cruel. He swallowed thickly and you heard his voice breaking. Was he crying? Oh no. Please do not cry.

"I feel like you're only seeing my friends as a hindrance. They're your friends too you know. And it's not fair that you can refer to them that way when all they've done is try to be nice to you. We have people we have to help, and I know things are hard right now, but you know I care about you. It's just right now we're both in some difficult situations."

"That is not the issue. I do love our friends, I do. Their great. But why are you all in my house right now. When I have told you so many times not to do this. First it was a little pop in from time to time. Then it was staying over really late. You said the exact same thing to me last night when our one movie night was crashed. Now it's this. I don't think it's your fault. I think you shouldn't be with me right now Stiles. I don't know if you don't have the time, don't want to make the time or can't make the time, I don't know. But I don't want to keep waiting for you to figure it out."

Stepping away from his outstretched arm when he wanted to pull you closer. Flinching he withdrew his hand when he saw you put your hand up to stop him.

"There are boundaries. I have boundaries-

"And I pushed them again." He finished, the sentence you'd been repeatedly screaming at him over and over again since the issues between you two arose.

Then it was over. The first conversation you two had in over a month that didn't end in screaming, tears, fighting, the both of you insisting you'd never let the other go, and instead of you two having a normal talk it was you two breaking up.

And your rug was still ruined.

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[avengers--assembly]

Sleep deprived results

Summary: Peter basically calls Tony dad for the first time and Tony? He is too sleep deprived to actually realise. The end

Word count: 602

Warnings: none

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Peter yawned hugely as the equations blurred together under his tired gaze. He and Mr. Stark had been working for what felt like forever. They’d started after dinner with Miss Potts, who had promptly chased them away to do their "science stuff." Neither had complained initially, but now that the clock was creeping past two in the morning, Peter knew they both desperately needed sleep. Maybe a snack too, he thought, just as his stomach let out a loud growl. Stifling one last yawn, Peter decided to address his own needs.

“Dad?”

No, no, no. Peter couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He couldn’t have called his mentor, Iron Man, "Dad." Peter's mind raced, conjuring up every mortifying scenario possible. Was Mr. Stark going to disown him or even cancel the adoption?

Before he could spiral further, Mr. Stark replied,“Yes, Petey?”

Was Peter breathing more heavily than usual? It certainly felt that way. Deep breaths. Mr. Stark remained fixated on him, offering no additional input, his half-lidded eyes glazed over. Maybe he didn’t hear me? Should I answer? Yes, yes, of course!

“I was, uh, wondering if you wanted to, uh, have a snack?” Peter finished lamely. If Mr. Stark noticed anything amiss, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Sure kiddo, let’s go. I didn’t even realize we’d been down here so long.” Mr. Stark ended with a sparing glance at the clock.

Peter nodded mutely, following the man and eventually plopping down on one of the island’s bar stools. Mr. Stark started making hot cocoa on the stove, and Peter adjusted his legs nervously. Pepper would definitely deem their current activity unsafe, considering their half-asleep states and the extremely warm milk and open flame.

Peter leveled his gaze with Mr. Stark’s and said the first random thing he could come up with. He had to double-check if Tony’s distant look meant he’d missed the whole "dad" slip.

“Can we make a real cutting-edge, neon pink lightsaber?”

Tony tried to concentrate on the boy’s words but didn’t catch them completely. Peter was staring at him with an analyzing and hopeful expression. Tony was almost certain he’d heard the word "can," so maybe the kid wanted something?

“Sure kid, whatever you want.”

Peter gasped dramatically, and Tony’s half-dead mind tried to grasp a good explanation but found none. Maybe the kid was just excited about whatever he’d agreed to? Tony shrugged and poured the warm, chocolaty drink into two cups before guiding Peter to the couch. Snagging a few cookies on the way, they started a movie that Tony really wasn’t paying attention to.

******

The next morning, Pepper found them both still fast asleep, snuggled up together. Feeling a streak of mischief, she left each of them a personal note. She had things to say after Friday had played some footage from the previous night, things she deemed cute and others not so much. If anybody asked, there were no early morning photos taken.

Peter's note, in neat handwriting, read: "Tony would be honored if you called him Dad, as he already refers to you as his kid."

Tony’s note read: "I swear Tony, if you build a functional lightsaber, no matter what weird color, I will harm you.

P.S. with love from Pepper."

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

I like the idea of introducing the twst cast to things from our world that don’t exist in theirs? For example I for some reason like the silly idea that they don’t have fire alarms? And like when they hear it and you tell them what it is they’re like “wait really?” Or you refer to a place that doesn’t exist in their world like a restaurant or something like that “Ive been to Disneyland so many times” “wtf is Disneyland?” “I’m craving Taco Bell” “huH?”

My favorite tho! I for some weird reason headcanon that people in twisted wonderland don’t know you can go to the moon?💀

And when you bring it up and start mentioning how the first man walked on the moon and they’ve got a robot on Mars they’re like “WAIT SERIOUSLY???” The moon thing is entertaining to me😭

Okay but here's something to consider:

Racism/Classism in language

So much of our language has shitty origins

Like "Hold down the fort" was invented by colonizers fighting off natives

Almost every languages word for 'Cannibal' is derived from an indigenous group. In this case, Kalinago were the tribe that cannibal derived from and they used it to described how "savage" they were. It was also believed to be mixed with the word canine to double that meaning

Like what would their word for cannibal come from?

Phrases like "see you soon" and "Gung ho" here original used to mock Chinese immigrants but lost their og meaning

Gymnasium literally means "to exercise naked" cause the original gyms were fully nude

Assassin is derived from the word Cannabis.

"Okay" came from the Choctaws "okeh" which means "it is so"

That's not even taking into all the sexual terms in the meme culture rn that's slowly having a different meaning (rawdogging, glazing, dick riding, edging, ect)

I mean scumbag, sucks, punk, musk, and porcelain were all sexual in origin too and we no longer associate them to that.

What I'm saying is their words are gonna be so much more interesting with all the additional species there are to be racist to. Esp between fae and humans. The racism has potential ok?

Also how do yall think everyone evolved in this world?? Do the humans there have their origins traced back to tiktaaliks? And if not can you imagine Yuu going to the hospital and the doctors freaking out over your DNA and prob cant give you a blood transfusion?

[noosayog]

[IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU] - ft. knight! iwaizumi hajime

warnings/content: princess! reader x knight/personal guard! iwa, royal au, arranged marraige, angst. One more after this!

wc: 2.1k

part 5. directory here.

--

With Hajime gone, the days fly by. Before you know it, the wedding is set to take place in a week. Your family will be arriving in a few days and will stay to attend the ceremony to be held in the Nekoma castle. There’s no need for you to lift a single finger. Your dress, itinerary, dinner, guest list were all prepared by the maids in the manor. And that was fine because this is not the wedding you always fantasized about anyway. There is no use in stressing over the details. 

What you are excited for, however, is seeing your older brother again. While all the knights and courtesans in Nekoma are kind, you miss your family. 

And despite your father’s brutishness, you do miss him. After the union, you know your opportunities to see him will be few and far in between.

And it goes without saying, but your sore heart aches for your knight. Iwaizumi may have broken your heart, but you would be lying if you said you did not miss him. You have already long resigned to the fact that you will love him forever, silly as that may be. At least once an hour, he double crosses your mind and the next 10 minutes will be spent thinking of him, a deadly mix of daydreaming about his smile and bracing yourself to keep it together when you see him again.

Thus, the days are spent lounging alone in the gardens with a cup of tea and untouched pastries. Sir Kenma and Sir Kai have long given up on checking in on you when the faraway look glazes over your eyes. Most of them, sharp and cunning, have seen right through you, knowing of your feelings for your ex-personal knight. They used to sit with you to keep you company, but that does little to soothe the loneliness that seeps through your bones. So they have learned to give you space. After all, they have the rest of this lifetime to get to know their future queen. The days go by in a blur and before you know it, the day of your family’s arrival comes.

You expect a summon to dinner that night, but none comes. You arrive at the dining room as you do every night and find it completely empty save for some of the maids. When you ask about the Aoba Johsai entourage and the usual Nekoma attendees, the maids only shake their heads. You have dinner alone and wander through the halls in hopes of running into some familiar faces, but the castle hallways are silent and empty. After a dragged out tour of the entire building, including the outdoor gardens, you reluctantly give up on your search. 

Much to your disappointment, the next two days pass similarly. With the exception of Prince Kuroo having breakfast with you, the only human interaction you receive is from the servants. And with that, the day of your wedding arrives. 

~•~ 

The morning greets you with bright sun and beautiful weather, blue skies and not a cloud in  sight, perfect for an early summer wedding. Strangely, not a single maid disrupts your sleep, even after the additional half hour you spend lounging in bed. You decide to get up to find some breakfast and hopefully some company. 

When you push your bedroom door open, two familiar figures standing guard on either side of your doorway turn to face you.  

“Slept in on your big day, eh, Princess?” the first one teases. 

“Pretty heartless of you,” the second one jokes. 

“Mattsun! Makki!” you exclaim, wrapping each of them in a hug. “What are you two doing here?” 

They chuckle warmly, patting you on the back and reciprocating the embrace. 

“We’re here to be your escorts before it’s time to prepare for the ceremony,” Sir Hanamaki explains. 

“Shall we have breakfast in the garden today?” Sir Matsukawa offers.

“Where’s Toru and my parents? Am I not going to see them before the wedding?” 

“‘Fraid not, Princess. They’ve been busy dealing with some diplomatic shit apparently,” Hanamaki responds carelessly. 

“Makki!” you exclaim at his inappropriate language. You have missed that. 

“You’ll see them soon enough,” Matsukawa covers. “Well?” he prompts, offering you a crooked elbow. 

You slip either arm through each of their proffered elbows and practically skip your way to the gardens.  

Breakfast is a pleasant affair as the two catch you up on things you have missed at home. They go through a list of people and their respective updates, including your Father, Mother, Toru, Kindaichi, Kunimi, and all the others. 

They tactfully keep Iwaizumi off the list and while you are undeniably curious, it may just be better off not knowing. It may even be better that he does not come to the wedding at all. You keep those thoughts to yourself. 

After breakfast, they escort you straight back to your room after turning down your request to take a walk in the gardens.

“No can do, Princess.” Matsukawa declines.

“Don’t want you to run into any surprises, you know?” Hanamaki says cryptically. 

Once back in your room, you’re left again to your own devices until lunchtime. At exactly noon, a knock sounds at your door. Without waiting for your permission, the door opens and you are greeted by another face you have missed dearly. 

“Toru!” you exclaim, running over to your brother to tackle him in a hug. 

He lets out a grunt as he catches the impact of your body, giving you an easy spin before setting you back down. 

“Why haven’t I seen you since you’ve arrived?” 

“I’m sorry. There’s been some… situations I have needed to deal with since arriving.” 

He puts a strange emphasis on situations, but you do not question it. After all, diplomatic matters have always been more of Toru’s responsibility than yours.

“I wish we had more time to catch up,” your brother says, “but I have to ask you some questions now.” His eyes show a seriousness unbefitting of your whimsical brother, his voice solemn. 

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly. 

“I need to know if you still love Iwaizumi after all this time.” 

You recoil at the question, surprised by the question and baffled by the relevance of the topic at this stage. 

“Don’t think about anything else. Just be honest with me, as my little sister whose happiness I wish for. Be honest with yourself.”  

“Yes,” you whisper. “I do still love him, and I think I always will. You may not know but Prince Kuroo and I… we agreed to…” you trail off, not sure how to explain the situation in a way that will not upset your brother. 

He surprises you by nodding in understanding. “I know. I know what you and the Prince agreed to. And don’t,” he pauses a bit here, as if searching for the correct words. 

“Don’t overthink what I’m about to ask, okay?” 

You nod. 

“If you had the chance, would you still want to be with Iwa? Forget all the circumstances. Do you still long to be with him?” 

Your answer is easy. A tear escapes your eyes as you respond, “if he and I could simply exist as ourselves, and not as our titles, then yes. I do.”

Your brother smiles then. He gives you one more hug and something about the look in his eyes tells you not to ask anymore questions. You return his embrace, allowing yourself to cry silently in his arms. You don’t know how long the two of you stand there like that, only separating when another knocks sounds at the door. 

It’s the maids, ready to prepare you for the ceremony.

Toru releases you, holding both of your shoulders steady. He leans down, face-to-face with you. “Don’t lose faith,” he says quietly, wiping the swiping tears from your cheeks. 

~•~ 

When Toru leaves, the maids enter, but instead of the Nekoma maids you have become accustomed to, it is your old maids and good friends, Rose and Marie. 

They are quick to gather you into a tight embrace, exclaiming about how you have lost weight and mildly reprimanding you for crying your eyes swollen on such a big day. 

With little time to catch up, they prepare you, adorning you with ribbons, flowers, and jewelry, all while chattering away in their comforting voices. When you slip into your dress and finally see yourself in the mirror, a strange calm washes over you. The same calm that has developed in the days you spent daydreaming in the Nekoma gardens. The same calm that covers your consciousness in a blissful haze. The same calm that makes you feel like you are looking at someone else in your body. 

It’s only as Rose and Marie join you on either side, admiring you through the mirror with tears in their eyes that you blink back into the moment. 

“You are so beautiful, Princess,” Rose sniffles.

“We are so proud of you,” Marie adds. 

You smile at them, fighting the urge to cry again and ruin all their hard work. 

“And remember,” they say. “You are destined for happiness. No matter how this day ends. Now, you must go, Princess.” 

This day has been nothing short of cryptic messages, but they are right. Outside, the sun is just beginning to lower itself onto the horizon and the sunset is a summon for you to be at the Grand Hall. You give your friends one last hug and a whispered “thank you,” before making your way out. 

~•~ 

At your arrival, the large double doors open to reveal an intricately decorated setup, but sparsely filled. The number of attendees is incredibly few for a wedding of royal caliber. As practiced, you walk down the aisle, vision blurred by the veil covering your face. When you arrive at the front of the room, Prince Kuroo is not at the altar, as he was during the practice sessions. And instead of an ordained priest behind the altar, your father and Queen Kuroo stand in that place. You see the monarchs of each kingdom holding their stern expressions, but as you meet your fathers gaze through your veil, you see a kind look in his eyes, one you have not seen since you were a child. He gives you a small nod and in spite of your confusion, you proceed.

Your destination is on the small elevated stage by the altar. You take the 2 small steps up, dragging the train of your dress behind you and turn around to face the guests. As you finally get a good glimpse of all the attendees, you notice that Hajime is nowhere in sight. On the Nekoma side of the hall, the first chair closest to the stage is vacant. You are not sure who is missing from the Nekoma side save for your absent fiance. 

The first to speak is Queen Kuroo, as you hear her begin to announce her son. 

“Announcing: Representative of the Royal Family Kuroo, Prince of Nekoma, and future heir to the throne, my son, Kuroo Testuro.” 

At the very end of the hall, the curtains are drawn and you see the Prince enter, walking down the same carpet you did just moments ago. However, instead of alighting the steps to join you on stage, he stands on the ground directly in front of you. He does not turn around to face the guests. You give him a questioning look and he just grins like he knows something you do not, though it seems more and more like everyone knows something about today that you do not. 

Next, you hear your father clear his throat. His next words make you turn your back to the audience to make sure you hear him correctly. 

“Announcing: Captain of the Aoba Johsai Royal Order of Knights,” 

Your breath catches. 

“And future heir to the Dukedom of the Iwaizumi estate, Iwaizumi Hajime.” 

 You swivel around abruptly enough that your veil slides out of position. Your obscured vision only sees a flurry of motion at the end of the hall. You see the curtain at the back of the hall pulled back to reveal a figure you dare not register as familiar, though it is one that you have watched and chased after for as long as you remember. Your vision grows hazy and you don’t know if it’s tears or the veil. So you pull the veil right off, not trusting your covered eyes. 

At the other end of the carpet, is Iwaizumi Hajime, not in his usual armor, but dressed in formal attire, not unlike Prince Kuroo’s. His eyes are trained intensely on yours. Something in the way he looks at you, walks to the altar, and takes your hands tells you that he is not here to simply watch. He is here for you.

[skellseerwriting]

Mutually Beneficial

Vampire!Balor x Gn!Reader

Partially Inspired by this fanart

Word Count: 1k

Content & Warnings: (Consensual) blood drinking, description of biting into the neck, brief description of pain, slightly suggestive, both Balor and reader are totally into it, Balor loses control a bit but reader isn’t hurt

Summary: Balor strike a deal with you for some of your blood in exchange for tesserae

“Are you sure about this?” You asked Balor, a tad timid.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He responded confidently, leaning over you from where you sat on his bed in the inn. His arms were splayed out with his hands on the mattress, bringing his face swooningly close to yours.

You averted your gaze at the hungry look in his dark eyes.

“I just- I just don’t want you to feel bad about… hurting me or something.”

Gently grabbing you by the chin and turning your face back to him, Balor showcased his signature smile; flashing the sharp fangs that made you shiver. His eyes roamed your face, then down your bare neck. He looked like he wanted to eat you whole. Bite into you and consume all that you had to offer (which, unbeknownst to him, was everything).

It made an exciting feeling squirm in your stomach.

“Don’t worry about me.” He reassured. “If anything, you should be the one worried about the pain.”

That previous nervousness returned.

“…Will it hurt?”

Bringing his face farther down, Balor began tracing his fingers down and across your throat.

“No…” He breathed. “Only a bit, but I’ll be as gentle as I can, I promise you.”

You eased up a bit at that. Although, it still did nothing to hide the fact you were incredibly flustered by how close he was to you.

“And if it makes you feel better…” He whispered, bringing his lips right up to your ear. “I’ll double the money I offered you.”

You gasped at the ghostly sensation.

“Mmm…” He hummed, nuzzling his nose into the corner of your jaw and down your neck. “‘s still such a good price for that sweet taste…” he said to himself, drowning in your scent as he brought his hands up to hold you. One steadied your shoulder and the other gently brushed away the hair at your neck, completely exposing it.

Balor inhaled sharply into your skin; clutching you. The heat of his body and possessiveness overtook you, and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms under his shoulders while he held you tighter.

His breath was hot and heavy. It lulled your eyes closed. The tension of waiting was thick and palpitating.

“Balor-“

He bit down on your neck.

The two sharp fangs sunk smoothly into your flesh; stinging fiercely. You yelped, and simultaneously, Balor groaned into the crook of your neck. The sound vibrated through your spine, making you dizzy.

His tongue immediately lapped at your flushed skin, tasting the dark droplets of blood that beaded up. The texture of it dragged along your now-sensitive skin in such a way that you made a little noise yourself. Balor either didn’t notice, or chose to ignore it in order to pursue the goods he paid for.

Panting, he yanked at your collar to allow additional surface area, desperate for more. He latched onto you in a death grip, nails digging into your shoulder. giving into his impulsive desires as he completely devoured you with his lips; drinking the blood from your throat like it was ambrosia gifted to him from the gods.

It wasn’t until he started sucking at your skin without restraint that you firmly tapped his shoulder multiple times to signal him to stop.

A second later he pulled away. His chest rose and fell rapidly; panting.

Quickly calming his breathing down, his glazed eyes turned clear as he took you in.

“Ah.” He wiped some blood off the corner of his mouth. Then, distractedly licked it off while his breathing slowed. “So sorry about that. Allow me to triple your pay for my vulgar behavior, I assure you that I don’t normally… lose control like that. I understand if you never want to make another deal like this again.”

Your head was still reeling from the experience. A certain lightheadedness had overtaken you, like you were high up in the clouds. You weren’t quite sure if it was blood loss, or something else entirely. Despite that, you wanted to respond to him and tell him it wasn’t necessary. But what were you supposed to say to refuse his offer? “That’s okay, I actually enjoyed it”???

You’d die of embarrassment, probably.

Still, you enjoyed the sight as he leaned back on the soft mattress with one hand, the other up at his lips as he absentmindedly licked off some blood he missed. With the way his summer shirt was open in the front -displaying that scar that you just wanted to run your fingers over and over- and the way his eyes closed and eyebrows knit together while he tasted the last of that dark, sweet liquid, you couldn’t help but think that you’d very much like to do this again.

“It’s no big deal.” You settled on, flashing him a smile. “Money is money.” You added, laughing lightly at that because it was something you both understood.

“I know.” He said, resting a hand on your shoulder and taking it off the moment he saw you wince at the contact. “I just don’t want you to feel unsafe.”

Daring to grab his hand, you looked into his eyes as you told him: “I never feel unsafe around you, Balor.”

Now, it was his turn to blush and look away.

Rosy pink tinged his cheeks, and while it wasn’t nearly as dark as the blood he had been drinking, the color tickled your fancy to see on his face all the same.

“Whenever you need to eat.” You told him, bringing his attention back to you. “I’ll be here.”

“That’s-“ he breathed. “That’s quite an offer.”

“I know. I never said I was good at making those.” You joked. “So?”

Bringing your hand up to his mouth, he closed his eyes and hummed, reminiscing the past few minutes and near future to come. He could practically taste it, and you could already imagine it.

“I accept.”

[sgiandubh]

Just so stories: Mommy and Daddy

In the (questionably) blessed White Picket Fenced America of 1955, things were deceptively simple:

Mommy stayed home, while Daddy was earning enough cash to buy that new Frigidaire.

Uhm. No, not really: see what happens to Mad Men's Betty Draper, the pearl-stringed suburbia matron. Not exactly a cheerful look, but perhaps a true, albeit neurotic, one.

For some unfathomable reason, one of the main dismissive arguments used against shippers reads along some very similar lines. I paraphrase, as this is a collective POV (probably stemmed from CO's laboratory and snowballed to great success across their dashboards):

'Oh, aren't they stupid! How can they expect C to follow him around the world, children in tow, at his beck and call? Or to wait for him, military wife style, as he traipses from Vegas to London to Paris to Belgium? What are these, The Fifties?'

To this Dorothy Dixon, along comes one of the Tumblrette Pundits, with a ready-made answer, always the same:

'Of course they are stupid! Of course she doesn't! Every time she is working somewhere, she brings McSideburns and The Blonde Bambino around! And McSideburns takes care of Blonde Bambino, as he should! Reality, not fantasy!'

Let alone they have absolutely no clue about the real state of play, given the almost complete, paranoid opacity reigning since at least a Certain Sad Event. Let alone that no other logical/common sense argument provided is accepted (cults seldom deal in both acceptance and common sense);

Nannies? Pah, so 1992! Family safety net? Pah, so suburban! Working parents? Pah, these people are stars, their life is a cornucopia of perks and freebies and glam!

So, in a nutshell, according to them:

Mommy is busy working and Daddy follows all along/ stays at home with Blonde Bambino, hoping that Mommy will bring enough cashola to finish that double glazing people usually install in December.

In other words, we immediately picture C as a 'starke, titanische Weib' / the strong, titanic woman German poets were so fond of back in the 1800's. Dragging along a diminutive, shy, understanding and private McSideburns, trousered Vestal extraordinaire. The rest is taboo (or should be, in my book), at any rate.

Something wrong with this vision? Yes. It's exactly the 1950's one they accuse us of espousing (we don't), but this time the male/female symbolic roles are reversed. As a result, a shrink would have many thoughts and probably a handful of questions about that need to completely castrate the Goddess's Consort to perfect oblivion. Obliterating his life, his story and even his name, for Christ's sake!

Not a good look for either C and The Prop and, to be honest, quite a weird, borderline insulting one, especially when coming from 'respectful, realistic' fans. The real utility seems to be concealing the emptiness of a Tale Forever Untold. It will be effectively replaced by the chorus with the perfect fantasy of a modern dad, a successful producer/manager and so on and so forth.

Reality is a bit different, if you just take a look on The Fratellis' Wikipedia page and follow the links:

But, but, but... 'additional personnel' (😱😱😱) - how could that be?

And yes, remember (LOL) David Eustace and the FMN shooting photo of the Happy Dynamic Duo? Happy to oblige to a friend who provided a work project (that album was postponed two or three times, then released in 2021) during COVID, probably.

The mere thought of a young, urban, sophisticated, committed and trusting couple, living and loving their best life, traveling separately or together, allowing 'spaces in their togetherness' (wasn't that The Prophet quote she liked and shared?) is something that gives them the shingles. Anything but this. Anything - even that sad The Empress and Her Additional Personnel narrative.

You see, they don't like The Obvious. At all.

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

A Court of Ice and Shadows: Chapter 1

OC Character x Azriel

Summary: Set after "A Court of Silver Flames" (ACOSF), this story follows original character Lene, an elite warrior of the Hesker Clan from the Winter Court. Tasked with diplomatic duty in the Night Court, Lene's mission is to help retrain the Valkyries and help squash potential uprising in the Illyrian camps. As she navigates centuries-old animosities and discovers herself beyond the icy confines of her homeland, Lene must confront her past and decide who she wants to become.

Click here for other parts:

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Characters: Featuring original characters alongside core characters from the ACOTAR series.

Disclaimers: All characters and settings pertaining to the core ACOTAR series belong to Sarah J. Maas, with additional material created for the purpose of this fanfiction

Content Warnings: None.

Note: Some words used in this story are of Norwegian or Scandinavian origin. I do not speak either language, but adapted the researched words to fit the narrative. For notes regarding any of these words, see the end of the chapter.

Chapter One:

The frigid winds of the Winter Court had always been a constant in Lene’s life, whispering secrets of ancient magic and carrying icy promises of the future. As delicate snowflakes drifted gracefully around the towering spires of her home, Lene stood enveloped in her silver furs, her gaze sweeping over the frost-kissed gardens below. Today, the wind gnawed with an unusually penetrating chill, a sensation that Lene normally found invigorating, but now it stirred a restless unease within her. Something was shifting in the air, a change that tingled across her skin like a premonition.

Lene’s fingers tightened around the frozen railing, the warmth of her touch coaxing small beads of water to trail down the ice-glazed iron. She inhaled sharply, the biting cold piercing her lungs and mingling with a faint sense of dread as she exhaled a misty breath, watching it swirl and disappear into the frigid air. Snowflakes caught on the tips of her eyelashes, sparkling momentarily before melting away.

From the shadowed underbrush dusted with snow, a white fox emerged, its movements silent and cautious. The creature paused, its bright eyes scanning the quiet, snow-covered path before it boldly approached the grand manor’s doorstep. With an almost regal air, the fox reared onto its hind legs, as if checking the residence it had been tasked to find. Satisfied, it gently set down a scroll encased in a sleek glass cylinder, protected from the elements. After completing its delivery, the fox cast a quick glance over its shoulder, its bushy tail flicking playfully as it scampered down the pathway, leaving behind a delicate trail of paw prints as it yipped. 

As the fox bounded down the path, Lene's eyes caught a glint of red—a vest intricately embroidered with golden threads that spiraled into the design of a complex snowflake. This was no ordinary courier fox; this one bore the distinct regalia of the High Court Palace. As the creature slipped beneath the iron gate and vanished from sight, a wave of curiosity stirred within Lene. What could the High Lord possibly need at such an ungodsly hour?

Turning, Lene retreated from the biting cold, pushing open the heavy double doors to re-enter the manor's welcoming warmth. A rush of heated air kissed her reddened cheeks, a soothing relief from the biting cold. With a fluid motion, she lowered the hood of her silver parka, untying it and draping it gracefully over the red velvet chaise by the entrance. Freeing her almost white, blonde hair from its confines, she let it cascade behind her shoulders, smoothing down her blue tunic that had bunched awkwardly beneath her coat. Despite the slight discomfort, she wouldn’t dare ask her grandmother to fashion her a new one, cherishing each piece the elder matriarch made.

Her boots left soft impressions on the plush rugs lining the floors as her footsteps echoed softly down the richly adorned hallways, framed by dark oaks and pine. Each step carried her deeper into the heart of the manor, toward the grand hall—a magnificent expanse where shadows danced with the roaring firelight and the air was thick with the scent of cranberry and pine. Lene took the staircase hurriedly, her feet barely touching the steps before she reached the grand hall floor, striding swiftly across to the large oak door that stood imposingly ahead. 

Lene stretched onto her toes to peer through the frosted window panes, her eyes searching the ground where the fox had carefully placed the letter, now slowly being concealed by a fresh layer of snow. With a determined breath, she opened the grand door, its hinges releasing a soft creak that echoed faintly in the chilly air. Bracing against the cold, she stepped out to retrieve the letter.

Clutching the frozen cylinder, Lene hastened back inside, the door shutting swiftly behind her as a few rebellious snowflakes danced in with the gust of wind. Leaning against the sturdy oak, she wrapped the bottom edge of her tunic around the silver cap of the letter holder, using the fabric to insulate her fingers as she twisted it open. The cap finally gave way with a resounding clink, releasing the sealed message inside. 

Lene tipped the holder, allowing the parchment to slide smoothly into her waiting hands. Tucking the glass container securely under her arm, she carefully unrolled the scroll, revealing the familiar, thin, and curled handwriting of High Lord Kallias. Her eyes quickly scanned the message, taken aback slightly by the formality of such a message: 

“My Dearest Lene,

I apologize for the inconvenient timing of this message, but please know I would not call upon you without need.

I request your presence tomorrow morning at the castle to discuss a rather urgent matter regarding a neighboring court. Rest assured, the details are not grim, nor cause for any concern or panic. But this is a matter that will need to be addressed promptly. 

Please meet me in the central court room tomorrow morning at 10 and I shall provide more details then. 

I look forward to seeing you, 

High Lord, Kallias”

Lene’s brows furrowed as she mulled over the cryptic nature of Kallias’s message. What urgent matter could involve another court yet not be cause for concern? With a twist, she secured the parchment back into the glass holder, the lid clicking firmly into place. Pushing off the door, she made her way through the grand hall entry towards the sitting room, her head swirling.

Upon crossing the threshold, Lene found herself enveloped in the warm embrace of firelight, illuminating her grandmother, seated regally in an aged wingback chair. The flames seemed to brighten her grandmother's braids, intricately woven threads of silver and white that shimmered with a touch of otherworldly luminescence. Those piercing blue eyes, sharp as the edge of winter, met Lene's gaze, reflecting a similar hue yet distinguished by whirls of deep sapphire. Her grandmother's brows knit together in keen scrutiny as tracked Lene’s march across the richly adorned sitting room, her hand poised elegantly around a glass of brandy.

Lene settled at her grandmother's feet upon the plush carpet, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them. The scent of pine from the crackling fire mingled with the aged notes of brandy, weaving the comforting aroma of home around her. In the quiet, her grandmother studied her, the silence stretching between them.

"Something troubling you, elskling?" Her grandmother's voice finally broke the silence, a soft yet formidable sound in the dimly lit room.

Lene's lips twisted wistfully, her eyes remaining fixed on the dancing flames. "I'm not sure," she murmured, the words barely a whisper.

Her grandmother took a measured sip from her glass, finishing it in a slow, deliberate gulp before setting it aside. The crystal caught the light, glinting briefly. "You seem restless."

Lene paused a moment, "It's a letter from Kallias," she confessed, her voice a mix of curiosity and unease as she unfolded her legs, stretching one out while keeping the other bent. She retrieved a cylindrical holder from the floor, handing it to her grandmother. The elder's fingers, bony yet steady with the weight of years, accepted the parchment. "He's summoned me for tomorrow morning to discuss matters at another court."

Her grandmother unfurled the parchment, eyes scanning the words swiftly. "And what makes this summons so troubling?"

Lene watched her grandmother's expression, seeking any sign of insight. "It’s his formality and vagueness," she explained. "That’s unlike him. He’s normally much more blunt."

Her grandmother's hands deftly rolled the parchment back into its ornate glass cylinder, the movement elegant and practiced. Leaning forward, she passed the container back to Lene, her eyes narrowing slightly as they captured her granddaughter's troubled expression. "So, is it his tone that stirs this unrest within you?"

"It’s just peculiar," Lene admitted, placing the letter beside her on the lush carpet. Her gaze drifted away, lost in the shadows that the firelight failed to touch. "The last time Kallias and I spoke, he mentioned nothing about unrest or discord among the courts. Everything appeared...relatively quiet."

She hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. "In fact, it seemed as though Prythian was experiencing some form of odd harmony." Lene’s voice grew softer, more introspective. "I’ve harbored doubts about this peace, grandmother. It feels too quiet, like everyone is parading around in masks of smiles and happiness while something festers beneath the surface."

Turning her head to meet her grandmother’s age-wise eyes, Lene’s own shone with a mix of resignation and defiance. "I suppose I’ve been bracing myself for the reality to shatter it. For someone smart enough to take advantage of it."

Her grandmother absorbed Lene’s words, her aged face lined with understanding but tempered with the hardness of someone who had witnessed atrocities committed when thin layers of peace began to crumble. “I do not fault you for preparing for the worst. The most devastating storms often follow the calmest days.” Lene’s grandmother hesitated, thinking over her words, “But you cannot live your life on the calm days only fearing for what is to come.” 

Lene let out a soft scoff, drawing her knees closer to her chest once more. "I appreciate the insight, Mormor," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the flickering shadows cast by the fire rather than her grandmother's face. "Do you believe there’s something more at play? Something... larger?”

Her grandmother reclined deeper into the wingback chair, the empty brandy glass twirling idly in her hand. "I don't believe Kallias would summon you without substantial reason," she mused. "You possess one of the sharpest, most tactical minds at his disposal. Perhaps he does indeed sense a shift on the horizon. But pondering the unsaid here is a futile endeavor. You will learn what you need to know soon enough. For now, perhaps there's virtue in the ignorant bliss of the unknown."

Lene smiled wryly, rolling her eyes affectionately. “You know I’m incapable of basking in ‘ignorant bliss,’” she quipped, her fingers air-quoting the last words.

At her grandmother's beckoning gesture, Lene moved to sit directly before the older woman, crawling on hands and knees before turning to face away from her. Her grandmother's fingers deftly began unraveling the small braids in Lene’s hair, undoing the intricate knots with gentle precision as she combed through the long strands. "You are very much like me, Lene," she observed quietly.

A laugh bubbled up from Lene’s throat. "I can imagine how delighted Mama would be to hear that comparison.”

Her grandmother gave a gentle tug on her hair, eliciting a slight hiss from Lene. "It’s your mind, elsking—it races too much, always darting ahead, never quite content to simply be here, in the moment."

As her grandmother tenderly rebraided her hair, the comforting touch that Lene often sought in moments of frenzy. "Mormor—" Lene began, only to be gently interrupted.

"It would do you well to allow yourself time to rest, to let your mind ease," her grandmother advised, her voice imbued with a soft firmness.

Lene drew in a deep breath, "I wish it were that easy," she confessed softly.

Finishing the braids, her grandmother expertly arranged the twin plaits over Lene's shoulders. Lene caught one, her fingers tracing the woven strands, pulling at a few loose ends as she contemplated her next words.

Her grandmother's gaze lingered on Lene, memories flooding back of a time when she was but a child, her small figure always close by. When allowed, Lene’s grandmother would allow her to sit with her in Kallias’s father’s court with Lene silently urging her grandmother to re-braid her hair while seated comfortably in her lap. Those moments seemed to echo in the quiet of the sitting room, where Lene, the red-nosed little snowflake, used to watch the other fae children play in the snow, always by the side of her mother and grandmother.

Lene parted her lips to speak, but her grandmother preempted her words with a reassuring hand on her shoulder, standing up from her chair. Lene looked up, meeting her grandmother’s eyes as she leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "You were born with a strong head on your shoulders, burdened with the desire to care for others, and you excel in your role. There's no need to unsettle yourself over possibilities that have yet to manifest, my elskling," her grandmother said, her hands cradling Lene's face, eyes searching hers deeply.

"I know, Mormor," Lene responded after a moment, her voice steady as she took one of her grandmother’s hands in her own.

Her grandmother smiled gently, a sparkle of affection in her eyes. "I know you know. I just want you to trust in that." She bestowed another tender kiss upon the crown of Lene's head before standing. "Get some sleep, Lene."

"I won't be much longer," Lene assured her, her voice soft but firm. "Sov gott, Mormor."

"Sov gott, my elskling," her grandmother called over her shoulder as she exited the sitting room, leaving Lene in the comforting solitude with only the crackling fire to fill the silence.

Lene glanced over the letter, lying on the floor, scoffing as she once again ran through the various possibilities for her summons before standing from the floor, drawing the letter up and retreating to her bedroom for the night.

Parts:

Notes:

Elskling - “Darling” in Norwegian

Mormor - “Grandmother” in Norwegian

Sov gott - “Sleep tight” in Swedish

Thank you for taking the time to read this first chapter of what I hope will be a larger series. I haven't written anything long form creatively in years but I am hoping through this I can rekindle some of my love of writing. I know that this may not be everyone's cup of tea but for those who are willing to indulge me in this, I so greatly appreciate you. I am slowly relearning to appreciate the art I can produce and allowing myself this outlet is so healing. Much love, and to many more. - A Court of Mishap and Mistakes

[nolanfa]

FTH

Hi! I'm participating in Fandom Trumps Hate this year, in the fancraft bazaar (meaning I'll be offering physical items).

So. I'll be offering a clay medaillon with up to one symbol per face (I can do more than two sides, too, if I make it pyramidal. It will be heavier though). Example of a two-sided medaillon, painted with the Hawkeye symbol on one face and the Winter Soldier one on the other:

Price tiers: - 20 or more: a single-sided medaillon - 30 or more: a double-sided medaillon - 40 or more: a three-sided pyramidal medaillon - 50 or more: a four-sided pyramidal medaillon - 60 or more: a five-sided cylinder (base triangle) medaillon - 70 or more: a six-sided double pyramid medaillon (for example: if you offer 45, you may ask for a single-, double-, or three-sided medaillon)

Bidding form here. See bids here.

More info under the cut

Wait what's FTH:

@fandomtrumpshate is a charity drive centered around the creation of fanworks (fanart, fanfic, services (like betaing or podcasting), etc.; the vast majority of things are fandom-centered but it's not actually a prerequisite); the way it works is: you bid on an auction set up by a participant; on march 9th, the winner is selected; I (let's say you bid on my auction) contact the winner, who then makes a donation of the amount that won the bid to one of the charities on the list, and sends me the proof of donation; I send the proof of donation to fth, contact the winner to check what exactly they want, make it and then send it to them (they pay for the shipping); more info there: https://fandomtrumpshate.tumblr.com/FAQ (look around their blog for the other participants too!)

Timetable:

The example medaillon is already done and will be sent immediately if the highest bidder chooses those symbols. I can make other single- or double-sided medaillons in a couple weeks. For more than two sides, or if you want your medaillon glazed instead of painted, it may take a few months.

Why do you keep saying medaillon, isn't it just a necklace?

I can send it as a necklace (with waxed cotton string and a toggle clasp (the ones shaped like an I and an O) or just a knot) or just the medaillon if you want to hang it on a wall; we can discuss that later: as long as I already have the materials at hand I can do whatever you like best.

Symbols available:

I am mostly into Marvel and DC (and Teen Wolf but I don't think they have clear character-related symbols?), but if you want simple geometrical symbols from other fandoms (or non-fandom) I can do it too (just send me a reference).

Glaze? Paint? What's the difference?

The symbol can be painted on with stained glass-imitation paint, solvent-based. This solution is faster (a couple weeks), since I already have everything on hand. Or it can be glazed (glaze is a glass-like color/material fired at very high temperatures; it is very sturdy: you'll break the medaillon before you manage to scratch it, dilute it, or flake it off; the one I use is shiny). Glaze takes more time (a few months) because I need to make a new clay medaillon, wait for it to dry, get it to the kiln, wait for the kiln people to fire it, add the glaze, and get it to the kiln again for a second firing. The pattern will probably be lightly raised. I have slightly less glaze than paint colors, and black glaze is for now an issue (I can't guarantee it'll look good). For an example of a glazed medaillon I made, see the first picture here: https://nolanfa-shop.fourthwall.com/en-eur/products/medaillons-birds

Shipping - as in sending stuff :) :

I will ask you to cover the shipping costs in addition to the donation. If you win the auction, you'll have to make the donation to the charity of your choice (which is the amount I take into account for the price tiers) and send me the proof of donation, then send me the amount needed for shipping (I'll tell you how much it is depending on where you live).

More questions?

You can contact me at nolanfa (dot) art (at) gmail (dot) com if you have any questions.

[smuttyandabsurd]

Devour (Turkey x Greece)

Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia Pairing: Greece/Turkey Rating: Explicit Word Count: 690 Additional tags: Anal Sex, Cowgirl Position, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Oil as Lube, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot

Summary: Greece and Turkey have sex on a rug by the fire.

Read it on AO3.

The fire limned Greece in a warm crackling glow, haloing the mass of his dark brown curls as he rocked himself slowly on Turkey’s cock. His eyes were closed, and his lips were pursed together, parted slightly in the middle as he practically purred his pleasure, his naked torso arching, his skin glistening with sweat and smears of fragrant oil.

Turkey caught himself gawping at the spectacle Greece made – all hot and moaning and wanton, writhing atop of him – and swallowed thickly. Quickly, he rearranged his face into something less flustered looking, just as Greece’s eyes fluttered open.

Touch me, he seemed to demand with a heavily glazed look, his olive-green eyes hooded and framed with long dark lashes.

Turkey found that he was only all too willing to oblige.

With an oil-drenched hand, he reached out to grasp Greece’s arousal, and it was worth it just to have Greece jolt and clench delectably around him, throwing back his head with a hiss of gratified need. Deftly, he leaned over and bit into Greece’s exposed throat, just below his Adam’s apple. Greece’s moan thrummed beautifully against his lips, and he could not help but smile at that.­­

“Keep moving,” he growled, though not unkindly, for Greece had stopped his squirming and only held still, trembling bodily.

Greece wrapped his arms around Turkey and slowly he resumed his rocking. His fingernails dug into the meat of Turkey’s shoulders as he was rewarded with a stroke of his cock and a sharp nipping kiss.

It was a slow, comfortable pace that Greece could keep up all night. But Turkey, impatient oaf that he was, had a different idea. His hand, which had been gently massaging the base of Greece’s length, slid suddenly up to his torso and splayed, and, with a firm push, he had Greece tumbling back on the kilim rug.

“Let’s finish this,” he said, his hands running up Greece’s thighs to take hold of the back of his knees.

Snapping his hips forward, Turkey buried himself deep – deliciously deep – into Greece. Greece’s hole was wet and slippery with oil and hot around his cock. The move incited a gasp from Greece, but Turkey did not let up. Quickly, he set up a punishing rhythm, thrusting deep and hard and rough as he held Greece practically folded in half.

“God, you feel so good!” Turkey groaned.

“Sh-shut up,” Greece muttered. He had tossed his head to one side as if hoping to bury his face beneath his curls, but Turkey could see the blush sitting high on his cheeks. “Y-you talk too much, old ma–nngh!”

Turkey smirked to hear Greece’s voice crack. Oh the boy may protest, but the way his ass squeezed and sucked in his cock told Turkey a very different story.

“You love this,” he murmured, punctuating each word with a shallow but pointed thrust against Greece’s prostate.

“I s-said… shut… up!”

Greece’s legs, which were now coated in oil, slipped suddenly out from under Turkey’s hands and clamped around his waist, pulling him in. It took all of Turkey’s willpower not to come right then and there as his cock plunged deep into Greece. Haphazardly, and determined to not be the first to finish, Turkey gripped Greece’s appendage and began stroking in earnest, wringing out from him a series of broken gasps and shuddering moans.

It did not take long for Greece to come from the onslaught – and not a moment too soon.

With a final hasty thrust, Turkey sheathed his cock and spilled liberally inside Greece. He groaned, his body shaking as he rode out the waves of his release, and as soon as he was spent, he dropped to rest his head against Greece’s shoulder.

He stayed doubled over for a long moment after, panting lightly as his vision slowly returned, listening to the frantic thudding of Greece’s heart inside his ribcage.

“You’re getting old,” Greece said. Laughed. It stung Turkey a little.

“And you are still a brat,” Turkey grumbled.

Before Greece could come up with a clever retort, Turkey sealed his lips in an all-devouring kiss.

[800silentpod]

How to Choose the Best Silent Pod for Your Office Space?

Modern workplaces thrive on open collaboration, but the demand for quiet, private spaces is growing rapidly. Employees need areas where they can focus, make confidential phone calls, or hold important meetings without distractions. In environments that encourage constant interaction, the absence of designated quiet zones can negatively impact productivity and concentration. Silent Pods offer an elegant solution, transforming underused spaces into functional, acoustically controlled environments that support both focus and collaboration.

Understanding Silent Pods

Silent Pods are specially designed acoustic spaces that shield conversations and minimize noise disruptions. Constructed with advanced soundproof materials, such as acoustic foam and double-glazed glass, these pods create a controlled environment where external noise is reduced, and internal sounds are contained. In today’s collaborative work environments, they are no longer an optional addition but a necessity to maintain focus and privacy in busy offices.

Key Considerations When Choosing a Silent Pod

Selecting the right Silent Pod requires careful thought. There are several aspects you need to evaluate to ensure you choose the perfect fit for your office space.

Acoustic Performance: The primary purpose of a Silent Pod is to offer optimal sound insulation. Ensure the pod is designed with high-quality acoustic panels and soundproofing materials that block both incoming and outgoing noise, providing complete privacy for conversations and focus-driven tasks.

Space Efficiency: The design of the pod should make efficient use of your available space. Depending on the office layout, the pod can either blend into underused areas or serve as a standalone feature without disrupting the existing flow of the workspace.

Types of Silent Pods

S-Pod (Single Pod): Designed for single occupancy, the S-Pod is perfect for employees needing a quiet, private space to focus or make confidential phone calls. These compact pods fit easily into small areas, making them ideal for individual use in open-plan offices.

D-Pod (Duo Pod): The D-Pod is designed for two people, offering a quiet space for one-on-one meetings or collaborative work. These pods are larger than the S-Pod but still compact enough to fit within open-plan office layouts, making them perfect for private discussions or brainstorming sessions.

D-Pod (Duo Pod): M-Pods accommodate more than three people and are designed for team meetings, discussions, or client presentations. These pods provide a soundproof alternative to traditional meeting rooms, offering flexible space for collaboration while ensuring privacy and noise reduction.

Customization Options

Customization is crucial when choosing the right Silent Pod for your office. The pod’s aesthetic and functional elements can be tailored to fit the specific needs of your workspace.

Aesthetic Customization: Silent Pods can be customized to match the aesthetic of your office, with options ranging from sleek, minimalist designs to vibrant color palettes. You can choose from various finishes, materials, and textures to ensure the pod seamlessly blends into your office environment.

Functional Customization: Beyond appearance, the functionality of the pod can also be customized. Add-ons like laptop mounts, monitor brackets, or advanced ventilation systems can improve user experience and ensure the pod meets the specific requirements of your workplace.

Features to Look for in a Silent Pod

When selecting a Silent Pod, certain features are essential to enhance comfort, usability, and durability.

Air Ventilation: A critical feature for any Silent Pod is proper air ventilation. A good ventilation system ensures a constant flow of fresh air, preventing the pod from becoming stuffy, especially during extended use.

Carpet: Carpeted floors within Silent Pods help to reduce noise and provide comfort underfoot. Look for materials crafted from moisture and mold-resistant synthetic fibers for durability and ease of maintenance.

Main Framework: The framework of the Silent Pod should be sturdy, made from durable materials like wooden MDF panels. The surface finish, whether it’s PU paint or melamine, should not only look good but also offer protection from daily wear and tear.

USB and Power Charging Stations: To accommodate modern work needs, Silent Pods should come with built-in USB-A and USB-C charging stations. These allow users to keep their devices powered up without leaving the pod, ensuring seamless connectivity.

Smart Adjustment Panel: A Smart Adjustment Panel allows users to control lighting and other environmental settings. Look for pods with smart switches and light color variations to adjust the brightness from cool white to warm white, depending on the task at hand.

Glass Panels: Silent Pods with double-glazed glass panels provide both soundproofing and aesthetic transparency. The glass panels allow light to enter the pod while maintaining privacy and acoustic integrity.

Acoustic Panel: Acoustic insulation is a key feature of any Silent Pod. Look for pods with polyester cotton material in the acoustic panels, which effectively dampen sound, ensuring the space remains quiet and private.

Main Wall Panel: The thickness of the main wall panel significantly impacts sound insulation. High-quality Silent Pods feature thick MDF panels combined with solid wood elements for enhanced acoustic protection and structural stability.

Warranty: A reliable warranty is essential when investing in Silent Pods. Look for providers that offer a minimum of a one-year limited warranty, ensuring your pod remains functional and in excellent condition over time.

Space-Saving Benefits

One of the biggest advantages of Silent Pods is their ability to transform underutilized areas of the office into functional spaces. These pods can be placed in hallways, corners, or even tucked under staircases, allowing offices to maximize space without the need for extensive renovations. This makes Silent Pods a flexible solution for offices looking to enhance privacy without sacrificing valuable square footage.

Importance of Ergonomics in Silent Pods

Ergonomics play a key role in the usability of Silent Pods, particularly for individuals who may spend extended periods inside. Consider pods that offer ergonomic seating and work surfaces positioned at the appropriate height, ensuring comfort and preventing strain. Well-designed pods support both physical well-being and productivity, making them an invaluable addition to any office space.

Installation and Maintenance

While some pods can be installed without professional assistance, it’s always advisable to choose professional installation. This ensures optimal performance and longevity of the pod. A Silent Pod Designer and Installation Services Provider can offer valuable expertise. They ensure the pod fits seamlessly into your workspace while meeting all technical specifications. Additionally, Silent Pods typically require minimal maintenance, thanks to their durable materials and thoughtful construction, keeping long-term costs low.

How to Choose the Right Silent Pod Designer and Installation Services Provider in Dubai ?

The right provider is key to ensuring the success of your Silent Pod installation. Look for a company with a strong portfolio and expertise in designing and installing pods that meet diverse needs. A trusted Silent Pod Designer and Installation Services Provider in Dubai will offer a range of customizable options, ensuring that your pod integrates perfectly with your office’s functional and aesthetic requirements. Always prioritize providers who can deliver on both quality and design flexibility.

11. Conclusion

Choosing the perfect Silent Pod for your office space involves understanding your specific requirements. These include factors such as acoustic performance, customization options, and ergonomic features. These pods are critical to creating private, quiet spaces that foster productivity and focus in open-plan offices. For businesses looking for top-tier pod solutions, 800Silentpod stands out as the Top Silent Pod Manufacturer and Supplier in Dubai. With extensive experience and a commitment to high-quality craftsmanship, 800Silentpod offers tailored solutions that suit any office environment. Reach out today at +971 56 392 5955 / +971 55 38 05 148 or email inquiry@800silentpod.com to explore the best Silent Pod options for your workspace.

OFFICE Address –

Office #60, M. Floor, Al Fajer Building, Airport Road, Al Garhoud, Dubai- United Arab Emirates

Mobile: 056 392 5955 / 055 380 5148

Email: inquiry@800silentpod.com

Website - https://800silentpod.com/

Our Social Media Presence –

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/people/800Silent-Pod/61556803461662/

Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/800silentpod/

LinkedIn - https://www.linkedin.com/company/800silentpod/

[emins]

How Acoustic Testing for Buildings Improves Soundproofing

In modern construction, ensuring that a building is soundproofed effectively is more important than ever. Whether it's an office, apartment, or a public space, noise can significantly impact the quality of life for its occupants. One of the most effective ways to achieve optimal soundproofing is through acoustic testing. This process plays a critical role in identifying areas where noise leaks occur and provides solutions to reduce unwanted sound. Let’s explore how acoustic testing improves soundproofing in buildings and why it’s a must for any construction project.

Identifying Potential Noise Leaks

The first step in soundproofing a building is identifying where the noise is coming from. Acoustic testing helps detect weak points in the building’s structure that allow sound to enter or escape. These can include gaps in walls, ceilings, windows, and even doors. By conducting tests, professionals can pinpoint these areas and take corrective measures, ensuring that soundproofing solutions are applied where they are most needed. This targeted approach is far more effective than attempting to soundproof an entire building without understanding where the issues lie.

Testing for Sound Insulation Performance

Acoustic testing also measures the performance of sound insulation materials used in the building’s construction. Different materials provide varying degrees of noise reduction, and not all are equally effective in all environments. Through testing, experts can assess how well materials like drywall, insulation, and flooring reduce sound transmission. This information helps builders and architects choose the best materials for the specific needs of the building. As a result, the soundproofing process becomes more efficient, and the final outcome is a quieter, more comfortable space.

Ensuring Proper Soundproofing Between Rooms

In multi-unit buildings like apartments or office complexes, soundproofing between rooms is crucial. Acoustic testing ensures that sound doesn’t travel easily from one room to another, especially in shared walls. For example, noise from a neighboring unit or a loud conversation in the hallway can disturb the peace of a quiet office or home. By assessing the walls and floors between rooms, acoustic tests provide data on how well the soundproofing measures are working and if additional layers of soundproofing are required to improve performance. This ensures that occupants experience a high level of privacy and comfort.

Preventing External Noise from Entering the Building

Another essential benefit of acoustic testing is preventing external noise from entering the building. In urban environments, outside noise from traffic, construction, or nearby businesses can infiltrate through windows and walls. Acoustic tests are conducted to evaluate the building’s ability to block out these external sounds. Testing helps identify areas where noise insulation needs to be improved, such as upgrading windows to double-glazed versions or adding additional layers of insulation to the walls. By strengthening the building’s exterior, occupants can enjoy a quieter indoor environment, free from the disturbances of the outside world.

Optimizing Soundproofing Design for Specific Needs

Every building has unique soundproofing needs depending on its purpose. For example, a recording studio requires a different level of soundproofing than an office building. Acoustic testing helps determine the specific soundproofing needs of a space, allowing for customized solutions. Whether it’s reducing noise from HVAC systems, controlling sound in meeting rooms, or blocking noise between floors, acoustic tests provide valuable insights that guide the design process. This ensures that the building’s soundproofing is optimized for the intended use of the space, providing the best possible environment for its occupants.