#interior design the fic

[fictionadventurer]

I love libraries.

I'm browsing the WWI shelves (as you do) and notice a very old book about the war. I glance at the first pages that talk about how one day the war will be over and we'll look at this place and not see any signs of the battlefield.

Then it hits me. And I check the publishing date.

This book was printed before the war's end. Not written. Printed. The physical object was created in 1918, while the war in question was raging and the end was as yet uncertain.

Now I'm standing on the other side of the apocalypse, with this physical link to that era in my hands. I'm living proof that the war did end and life did go on and we can all look at the end of the world as a long-ago memory.

Reading old books is cool enough, connecting our minds and hearts through the ideas of people who lived long ago, but there's something extra profound about holding a copy of the book that comes from the time that it was written. It's a physical link between the past and the present connecting me to those long-ago people. A piece of the past come into the future that gives me the chance to almost take the hand of some long-ago reader, to hold something they could have held, connecting not just mentally but physically to their era, a moment of connection across more than a century.

Excuse me while I go weep.

[indeedgoodman]

[sforzesco]

"Since you've named yourself after Julius fucking Caesar, perhaps I'll follow in your lead and choose one of the conspirators." "Interesting," says Giuliano. "Should I worry about finding you at the center of some kind of conspiracy that ends with my death?" "Not from me," replies Ascanio. He sounds tired. "Not anymore."

informally, some kind of. conversational follow up to the last comic. I'm trying to get the atmospheric conversational whimsy out of my system because I have a vision of the vatican as a body in active decay, a point of infection spreading out and poisoning the well, a jaw unhinged that people walk into over and over, and I am so close to figure out how to convey this visually. maybe.

[donotwishonme]

march 3: card - 546 words - @jegulus-microfic - implied sexual content

Regulus does not like attention very much. This is a well known fact. So when a delivery guy steps out of the elevator with a gigantic bouquet of red roses asking about a Regulus Black, he wishes the ground would swallow him.

Pandora, who sits at the desk across from him, waves her hand in the air to get the guy’s attention and point at him. Regulus sits with his face in his hands, this is embarrassing.

Regulus can feel the guy looming over him and looks up. He shuffles some of his papers to the side. “You can put them there, thank you,” he says meekly.

Regulus just leaves the flowers standing there. Doesn't want to pay them any more attention. Doesn’t want anymore attention on himself. Just wants to go back to focusing on his work. Until Pandora interrupts him, “Aren’t you gonna see who sent them. There is a card attached to them.”

She is gazing at the flowers intently, admiring them. Regulus has to admit, they are quite beautiful. It’s just a bit much. Who would even send this to him? He hasn't done anything to deserve this. He doesn't have anyone to have an anniversary with and his birthday is months away.

“Reg, card,” she repeats, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“It’s not that special. We get gifts all the time. Grateful clients and all that.” It’s not a lie. They maintain a close relationship with a lot of clients. But most of their gifts come in the form of gift cards or invites to dinners, not red roses.

“Yes but these are red roses, must be from someone special.”

“Well if you want to know you can read it to me.” He just wants to put it to rest, but once Pandora has something in her mind she won’t leave it alone. Quickest way to get it over with is to give in.

She picks the card out of the flowers and folds it open. Eyes darting over the card. She starts blushing and snaps the card closed again. “Oh, I think it’s better if you open it yourself.”

She lays the card in front of him and makes her way back to her own desk, cheeks still pink.

He opens the card and is greeted with, well how shall he put it, a picture of James Potter in all of his glory. James Potter, who is supposed to be just a client, is sending him roses and nudes, to his workplace. What a fucking idiot.

Would love to see you again Reg, you beg so pretty for me.

Regulus blushes even brighter than Pandora did. James, of course he remembers James. Left him a very grateful, very satisfied client.

He’d done the design for James’ new penthouse. When handing over the key to him, James had asked for a tour. Which ended in the bedroom with James’ head between his thighs and Regulus begging him to fuck him.

He glances at the card again. There is also a phone number, which he adds to his contacts immediately. Before he sends a message, he puts the card away, safe in his bag, just for his eyes.

Attention, he thinks, isn't that bad as long as it comes from James.

[snickerdoodlles]

Very Important Question about Vegas's Youtube era: how colorful is his cookware? Did Macau and Chay get him pink and green pineapple patterned mini-muffin trays?

Vegas's kitchen is so colorful. his kitchen looks like a cute kitchen pinterest board threw up all over it. nobody can tell if his aesthetic is retro or industrial or countryside or what, because it's this eclectic mishmash of individually cute instagram worthy things thrown together in a way that almost works but doesn't, because a proper pinterest board is always a hot fucking mess when taken in its entirety.

it first begins with items of whimsy. Macau shows Vegas a picture of a dinosaur ladle, Vegas says "what the fuck is that? father would never allow for those" and that alone manifests 12 of them in his shopping cart. feels very weird about it when they arrive and banishes the box of them to the forgotten corner of a cupboard. then Macau buys Pete his first pineapple jar. and like. it's a pineapple. that's all it is. Pete sticks it in Vegas's kitchen and Vegas is stuck staring at a ceramic pineapple that just looks like a pineapple, unable to figure out why it feels weird. Macau gets Pete a second pineapple jar, except this time it's also an owl face, and Vegas can't figure out why he wishes he was looking at that one instead of the regular pineapple one. he wants to hurl both of them at a wall so hard they leave a dent as they shatter. he wants to put them in a window where they'll be framed as the sun rises on them. he buys a spatula with a bee pattern on a whim all by himself and is so on edge about it for the next two weeks he whips welts onto (a very happy) Pete's back.

over the course of time, all of Vegas's kitchen supplies become items you'd expect to find on pinterest. bird salt and pepper shakers. cutely bland patterned jars labeled COFFEE and TEA. an industrial chic spice rack that sits under his cottagecore herb wall. highly specialized mini pans that make foods in special shapes. so many pastel pots and pans. at first Vegas is always saying stuff like "someone got that for me" or "my father would hate it." but it's not about that. later he's defiantly indifferent and daring about owning them at all. but it's not really about any of that either. it's really just...Vegas letting himself have cute things. things that would be called ~girly~ or ~ruin~ his image. there's actually several items he's just neutral about (like the soft pastel colors--not really his thing tbh! but a good pot is a good pot) or even sometimes dislikes (mini muffin trays = yay!, mini pans that only cook one(1) thing = frustration)-- but like. Vegas is allowed to have them. he's even fine to like them if he wants to. it doesn't matter that he has them. the image they paint of him doesn't matter. and that feeling of just owning cutesy, whimsical, or downright weird kitchen shit as he pleases without it being anything else is its own high for Vegas and his traumas ❤

[lilac-hecox]

Consider an Ianthony au where Anthony is a very popular interior designer and he posts on social media a lot. Erin convinces Ian to hire Anthony to redo the office/his house and they meet and hit it off and over the process of Anthony renovating the space and he and Ian texting about wallpapers and colors and aesthetics, they fall in love and become a power couple.

[gleefulpoppet]

Sonder Chapter 83: Raise a Family Here [~3300 Words]

“Welcome home, boss,” Jake says as he opens the door and hops out, making a sweeping motion for them as they exit.  “Thank you!” “We’ll give you two as long as you want. We’ll wait out here.” “Again, thank you. Won’t be long. Everyone will be here soon,” Kurt replies, intertwining his hand with Blaine’s as they head for the front door. “You do the honors, honey,” Kurt whispers in his ear. 

You can read Chapter 83 [here] or from the beginning on AO3 [here].

[dwtolos]

started watching another home makeover show and it hit me once again how much I want an AU where George and Sapnap are the hosts of a 'siblings getting their own rooms' show (they compete on which room suits their respective kid best) and Dream is one of the cameramen who ended up commenting out loud about something so he ends up being a faceless fan favorite. George does flirt with Dream a lot. Sapnap is very tired of it. They also compete about which room Dream would like the best, which is not the point of the show but in their hearts it is.

[effen-draws]

HI EFFEN BELOVED!

Just read through your SHEBANG! of a closing chapter for your Rewind Refine fic, and I was curious!

What’s the layout of Harry’s apartment?

[wanted to know how well my interpretation lined up with your concept!]

HI AQI BELOVED!

Hehe, I'm glad you enjoed it! And here's a little Harry apartment layout I sketched in 40-ish minutes:-]

(Apologies for the handwriting in advance)

[chiropteracupola]

you don't have to be a ghost, here amongst the living...

[you guessed it, collaboration with @dxppercxdxver again]

[deliciouskeys]

Just curious why there’s a small pool in the Butchlander sims bathroom?

Um. There’s no good reason. There’s many dumb ones.

If you put a pool inside a sims house, sometimes they go swimming in it spontaneously when left to their own devices. This helps maintain Sims muscle tone but never makes their muscles bulky like putting an exercise machine in.

If it’s a ridiculously tiny pool, sometimes they’ll get in at the same time and the swimming looks like they’re having sex because I gave them two square feet to move in and they’re on top of each other. #good game glitches.

I like them walking around in swimsuits for hours after they’re no longer swimming.

That house is also equipped with a stupid swimming pool moat and a hot tub where they can have entertainingly animated woohoo. Although not when pregnant alas.

This is a retroactive reason, but there’s a great no powers butchlander pair of companion fics called Gravity Wave and Bad Faith Prayer on AO3 where John is a former Olympic swimmer, highly recommended.

Homelander pushes off the ground like a swimmer so it’s canon ok??

[melis-writes]

Speaking of the domestic, just married, in-between chapter upcoming for Moth to Flame: Part II... Have you ever wondered what happened after Michael and Victoria got married? 👀✨ Of course, wedding night and first time smut aside, we'll be exploring the time before that, right after the wedding as the two settle into their new estate!! 🥰

[pynkhues]

What are your Tabitha headcanons/thoughts on her backstory? She is surely wealthy in her own right?

Oh, yeah, I definitely think she’s wealthy.

In many ways, she sits in a really interesting place in terms of the show’s canon – she and Naomi are friends who have slept with each other previously, but it’s ambiguous as to how much the other Pierce’s know her, she’s obviously of a social position high enough to get invited to parties like the Rhomboid Party and to rate in Logan’s eyes as a real prospect for Roman, but not high enough to indicate political advantage / threat in the way Naomi does, or low enough to indicate either a social climber (Tom) or a fee-for-hire (Willa).

There’s also an interesting beat in 2.03 where Roman’s telling Tabitha that Logan’s planning on buying PGM where she replies but my parents watch that which is so rich and textured in general in terms of what it tells us about her being raised in a (likely affluent) politically progressive household while feeling no qualms about getting into bed personally and politically with the right if she likes them.

Funnily enough? The character on the show that reminds me the most of is Rava.

That kind of makes me think that Tabitha and Rava probably grew up in a similar tax bracket. Not with the sort of billion-dollar lifestyle that the Roy’s lead, but probably a multi-million-dollar one. The sort of situation where neither have had to work, and while Rava works in consulting (which the Succession scripts have shown us!), Tabitha doesn’t seem to have a real job, or at least not one beyond socialite which I think is what the show positions us to believe.

Getting full into headcanon territory, I’m kind of obsessed with the thought that Tabitha’s the daughter of a PGM equivalent of Gerri? Like her mom’s a significant lawyer at PGM, which is maybe how she ran into Naomi (maybe Naomi spent a few weeks after her mom died sleeping in their spare room), and none of the broader Pierce family fully knows who she is in the same way half of the Roy team seem to forget Gerri has daughters at all.

And Tabitha, of course, has always been bright and charismatic, but she’s looked at what her mom does for work, lived it, up close and personal for her entire childhood and adolescence, and maybe all of her mom’s ambition killed her own. After all, she knows the people who have real influence, and it’s the people with a hand on a shoulder or a cock or a throat, and she knows the best way to get ahead is to get on top of or underneath someone. She knows that the future’s out of her hands and has the security to accept that, and she tells herself maybe that she’s a lover not a fighter, and so she’ll just embrace whatever opportunities present themselves.

Only she fucks Naomi, and maybe a part of it really is all over for her. Because Naomi is fun and she’s funny, but she’s also mean and fucked up and leaves bruises on her hips and coke on her coffee table and mascara stains on her pillow, and it’s such a fucking cliché, but Tabitha thinks maybe she is too. The hedonist daughter of an ever-striving, ever-ambitious mother.

And Naomi’s not supposed to be the one who matters, but maybe she is, because Tabitha fucks a million hedge-fund pricks and trust-fund babies even before sort-of-Tom and almost-Roman, but for Tabitha, Naomi’s the thing, the one.

The person she’s preconditioned to serve, forever a lady-in-waiting to a queen’s court, just like her mother, maybe, in service if not role or title, and she doesn’t realise it until it’s over, but maybe Roman was a part of that too. A different court, a prince instead of a princess, both inaccessible, albeit in different ways, and Tabitha never wanted to be her mother, but yeah, okay, maybe all this shit was inevitable.

Maybe Tabitha was always an outsider on the inside, looking at all these little heirs and heiresses dipped in gold, and thinking - -

Well.

[leslutdepointedulac]

Not me snooping around the inside of the Rue Royale on Google Maps and wishing I could live there. Like damn, personally I'd happily live there for 65 years too, tf.

[lacomandante]

why is it when i’m at my most stressed out most busy most hectic that my inspiration hits. like why do i want to do fic research and build places i saw in spain in the sims or work on penpal letter and envelope decorating when i have THREE WEEKS worth of hwk and essays and quizes and FINALS to do in FOUR DAYS!!!!!!!!!. insane!!!!

[snickerdoodlles]

PLEASE tell us about Pete and his terrible design choices.

OH YES thank u for the kick nonny. (context: Vegas's kitchen, but more importantly, my fic: Interior Design.)

so the idea behind interior design fic is that Vegas loves his homes moody, dark, and chock full of symbolism and Pete, after so many years of first abuse and then dehumanization, likes anything with personality. however, while Pete likes Vegas's stuff being anything but boring, it's not really him either? which then hits a conundrum in that Pete doesn't want to vanish in his own home, but Vegas's aesthetic is a strong personality to compliment/compete against and Pete doesn't really have any idea on even what he likes, much less have a distinct design preference. there's a lot of shrugging and frowning and frustration involved. neither of them have a clue how to identify or articulate what feels off about the situation and they characteristically just let it fester until they can fuck it out and start the cycle all over again.

(i picture there is a lot of Pete kinda throwing his stuff around carelessly to make it his space too, and equally Vegas getting annoyed by the untidiness and pushing Pete to his limits or manhandling him until he bruises/scratches/whatever. none of this deters either of them from their bad habits in the slightest.)

then Macau and Chay start buying Pete that sort of white suburban lady stuff you'd see on pinterest or designer instagram and he absolutely loves it. i poke fun at that aesthetic because many aim for styles like handmade craft, or eccentric traveler, or eclectic bohemian, etc-- except the creative eccentricity and uniqueness that makes those styles so neat doesn't translate to anything that's mass produced at the lowest cost possible. it's just...hollow, because those styles are about telling the unique story of one person but mass market says nothing specific about any person by design.

which for Pete, who doesn't really know what he likes and still masks out of habit, is perfect. everything's personalized except it's meant to be blandly appealing to everyone and therefore can't crack his shell in any meaningful way. its distinct blandness all kinda runs together but of course starkly stands out against Vegas's moody shit and religious iconography. everyone side-eyes Pete a bit for his shit style and Pete is thrilled, because it's recognizably his shitty style. Vegas fixates on the ways Pete's shit clashes with his and expresses his feelings about it extensively all over Pete. Pete is thriving.

Pete still hasn't managed to put this into words, mind you. he's sticking up his ceramic birds and shitty craft hedgehogs and weird paper lights going "i like better? i like better" with zero introspection and no plans to do so ❤