#mid century light shade

[susoriginals]

Vintage Round Replacement Ceiling Light Lamp Shade Clear & Frosted w/ Raised Design 5" Tall Only $10

[majouartings]

PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA *inhale* PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE Z

[prettyvintagehouse]

Vintage mid century lamp shade.

[mebeforeyoumovie]

Freestanding - Contemporary Home Office Large modern freestanding desk idea for a study room with carpeting and beige walls.

[highonheels]

Guest Bedroom Bedroom - mid-sized eclectic guest dark wood floor and brown floor bedroom idea with white walls and no fireplace

[querida-cinderela]

Great Room Atlanta Inspiration for a mid-sized, contemporary, l-shaped, dark-wood floor, open-concept kitchen remodel with stainless steel appliances, an island, flat-panel cabinets, medium-tone wood cabinets, quartz countertops, and ceramic or multicolored backsplashes.

[thestuffedalligator]

“It’s… not what I expected Fairyland to look like.”

“You said you wanted the safest route.”

“Well, yes, but — where are the woods? The forests? The mushrooms with gnomes living in them?”

“Yeah, right — look, all that twinkly enchanted forest crap was made by humans who came here in the 1800s. Capital-R Romantic artists. They hated industrialization and loved nature, and they wanted an escape from the modern world.

“And Fairyland loves humans who want to escape from the modern world. It makes for easy bait. So when artists came here in the 1800s, it made itself look exactly like what they wanted it to.”

“And people want this?”

She gestured out to a world painted in pastel shades of pink and green, and lit with a blaze of neon lights. Every surface gleamed and twinkled with starburst sparkles, and the air smelled sticky sweet with a chemical whiff of hairspray.

Every building was neatly geometrical. Every window was a view into a Norman Rockwell painting. On the wind she could hear the sounds of music and the words: “Sandman, I’m so alone, I’ve got nobody to call all my own…”

It was like being dunked headfirst into a bucket of the 1950s.

But… but there was a weirdness to it. The children playing in Davy Crockett caps and cowboy hats looked like goblins. The gleaming cars with glittering tailfins had huge, sad, colourless eyes instead of headlights.

A gaggle of beehived housewives stood on a corner and watched her pass with glittering, hungry eyes. One of them parted perfectly painted lips and licked its lion’s teeth.

The guide shrugged. “Of course. Every now and then someone falls into Fairyland who loves mid-twentieth century Americana, who wishes they could go back to ‘the good old days.’ Fairyland opens its arms and offers them a world where things are simple, where pixies wear poodle skirts and elves wear aprons, and men are men and women are women and all the jukeboxes in all the soda shops play Mr. Sandman.

“And then this place eats them alive.”

She swallowed. “But it’s safe for us?”

“Do you dream about going back to the fifties?”

“God no.”

“Then it’s safe.”

[esouliie]

WILL YOU SLEEP ALONE TONIGHT?

(rio vidal x reader) (agatha harkness x rio vidal)

synopsis | you finally see her again, after what feels like a century apart. but she's not the person you remember—her smile is wrong, her eyes colder, and her voice carries an edge that cuts through nostalgia. something is off, something you can’t name, like death painted in the wrong shade of blue: unfamiliar, unsettling, and hauntingly beautiful.

tags | angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love and ohh it burns, it’s set after end of agatha all along sooo, open ending, everyone’s crying :(

word count | 2k

authors note | i’ve not written in a while but this lil thing was inspired by my recent obsession with aubrey plaza & my friend’s constant need to bombard me with sad agathario edits - @cuinaminute229

The air was heavy with silence, save for the faint hum of the single streetlamp casting a pale glow over the cracked pavement. You clutched your keys tightly, the cool metal digging into your palm as you walked across the empty parking lot, your dingy car left on the other side. The forest loomed at the edge of your vision, a wall of shadows that seems to lean closer the longer you look at it. The lamp flickered once, then twice, as if unsure of its purpose.

She’s not hard to miss, sat on the weathered bench beneath the light, her silhouette fragile against the darkness. Her face is pale, almost ghostly, and her eyes—a vivid, unnatural red—glint like dying embers. Old tears tracks carved glistening paths down her cheeks, catching the light like molten silver. You stopped mid-step, unsure whether to approach or retreat. This was something completely new to you. Rio was never one to let her emotions spill out, never the type to wear her heart on her sleeve, her true form bare for all to see. With you, especially, she was a fortress: stone walls, guarded gates, and windows so shuttered even the light struggled to slip through. Your time together had always been private, locked away behind closed doors and tangled in the heat of shared breaths and whispered sighs. It was nothing serious—that had been the deal from the start. No expectations. No promises. You’d both agreed to keep it light, easy, uncomplicated. It worked for her, and you thought it would work for you, too. After all, you weren’t exactly searching for a fairy tale with a happily-ever-after. But Rio had a way of upending expectations without even trying.

To you, she wasn’t just beautiful—though she obviously was. It wasn’t just her sharp jawline, her dark, stormy eyes, or the way her lips curved when she was amused. It was how she moved through the world: always untouchable, always unbothered, and entirely herself. Rio was the kind of woman who could make you feel insignificant and seen all at once. You told yourself it was harmless, that the smirk she gave you when you made her laugh didn’t mean anything. That the way she pulled you into her arms each night, her hand firm on your wrist, wasn’t your undoing. But oh, how wrong you were. She’s not the type to play fair, and you knew that from the start. Still, you let her draw you into her world, a place where shadows whispered secrets and the nights stretched endlessly. Every time she tilted her head and smiled at you, the world narrowed until it was just her, framed in smoke and fleeting light.

You weren’t supposed to fall for her. You should’ve listened to her warning. But you’ve always had a reckless streak, haven’t you? Life, after all, has a funny way of dancing with Death herself. And to you? She’s never been more beautiful.

“Go away.” she said, her voice stripped of its usual playfulness. The sharpness of her tone stung more than you’d like to admit, being the first you had heard from her in a century, but you stayed put, feet rooted to the cold pavement. She’s sat there, trembling, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like they could somehow block out the chill setting in her bones. Her shoulders hunched forward, defensive and small, nothing like the powerful witch you once knew.

Without thinking, you untangled the scarf from your neck. The soft beige fabric still holds the faintest trace of warmth as you gently draped it around her shoulders. She doesn’t resist, but she doesn’t thank you either. Her dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, just for a moment, guarded and unreadable, before dropping back down to her pale hands. Those hands clasped together tightly, her knuckles white from the effort, as if she’s trying to trap the heat that’s rapidly escaping her. You sat beside her on the bench, closer than she probably wants, until your knees press together. She doesn’t move away, but her silence felt heavier than the night air. Carefully, you reached out, cupping her cold fingers in your hands. They’re frozen to the touch, long and elegant as always, despite the way they’re trembling slightly, itching to flee from your touch, and yet, desperate for the heated comfort.

“I don’t have any gloves,” you murmured, a poor excuse for an explanation. Not that it matters. Your hands were always warmer than hers and always managed to make their way into hers.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. Her shoulders softened, just barely, and you think you might feel her fingers shift slightly against yours, hope you might feel her palms twist to wrap her fingers around yours.

But she didn’t.

“You shouldn’t…” she started, her voice quiet, fragile, but the words trail off into the cold.

You shouldn’t be here.

“I know,” you said softly, cutting her off. “But I am.” You saw the look in her eyes—the shift of calm waters against the storm brewing beneath her tightly clenched jaw, her ragged breath betraying the composure she so desperately tries to hold.

“Rio, what’s wrong? Where’s Agath—”

Before you could finish, she snatched her hands from yours as though your touch had burned. The abrupt movement knocked you against the back of the bench, as if she had actually pushed you away. Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed off, her pace frantic, shoulders trembling. “Rio? Wait!” Your voice cracked as you called after her, your legs already moving to close the growing distance, “Rio, please! What’s happen-“

”Shut up,” Rio spat over her shoulder, her tone cruel enough to freeze the words in your throat. But as she glanced back, her eyes betrayed her; and there lied the truth. Her cheeks glistened in the dim light, a fresh stream of tears cascading down her face like a quiet admission of defeat. “Rio,” you said again, softer this time, cautious, of the wounded woman.

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, her voice shaking. “Don’t say it like that.”

You know what she meant.

Don’t say it like you care for her.

Like you’re in love with her.

Her steps faltered, and she turned to face you fully, her arms crossing over her chest like armor hastily thrown up against your probing gaze. She looked like she wanted to fight you, to lash out and drive you away as she hid herself behind walls, but the anger in her eyes was tempered by something else—something fragile and crumbling. That part of her soul she had shared with you once before. This wasn’t the first time you’d witnessed Death’s cruelty, the way it tore through lives and left people hollow. You had seen it before, but this time, you weren’t going to let it win. Not with her.

“Don’t do that,” you whispered, stepping closer, nimble fingers hesitating, waiting for the slightest indication she’ll let you in, for the remnants of her walls to fall down.

“Don’t hide from me, Rio.”

Her breath hitched at the sound of her name. The way it left your lips felt like a one last touch, one last plea, one last kiss. For a moment, you thought she might lash out again, her walls snapping shut, impenetrable. But then something shifted. Her shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of her like a tide retreating from the shore. She stared at your hand, her eyes flickering between your outstretched fingers and your face. You don’t wait for her to make the first move, hands pulling her face into the crook of your neck, her shuddering breath warm against your skin. Her whimpers are quiet, but they echoed loud into your chest, her heartbeat rapid and raw against yours.

You heard her muffled words against your skin, faint and broken, and pulled her away just enough for your eyes to meet. Your thumbs brushed against her wet cheeks, coaxing her to speak again, though the tremble in her lips warned you of the weight of what she was about to say. “She’s gone,” she whispered, voice cracking under the pressure of holding herself together. You tightened your hold on her, pulling her closer as though your arms could shield her from the grief threatening to consume her. Your hands continued their futile attempts to wipe away her tears, even as fresh ones cascaded down. You pressed your forehead to hers, a silent plea for her to keep going, though you knew a part of you already dreaded what she would say next, of what really happened to those close to Death.

“I killed her.” The words ripped from her lips in a guttural sob, the kind that seemed to tear her apart from the inside. She collapsed into you, her weight nearly buckling your knees as she clung to you with desperate force. Her face buried itself into your neck, her tears soaking through your shirt as she poured her anguish into you, her cries now raw and unrestrained. You stood firm, steadying her as best as you could despite the waves of emotion raging between you, and for the grieving woman before you. Your hand found her dark curls, stroking them in soothing motions, while the other rubbed slow circles against her back all the way to her neck. “I’m sorry,” you murmured over and over again, your apologies feather-light against her crown. They felt insufficient, hollow even, but they were all you had to offer.

You weren’t entirely sure of the relationship between Agatha and Rio. She had never explained it fully, and you had never pressed her. From the outside, you had assumed it was similar to your relationship with Rio—intimate in a way that didn’t require a label but never crossed certain boundaries. But then you started to notice things. The way Rio’s eyes lit up whenever Agatha entered the room, as though her very presence ignited something within her. The subtle changes in her voice when she spoke to Agatha compared to you—softer, warmer, tinged with something more. And the way she leaned into her touch, like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth. The only thing worth spending an eternity on this plane for. You had tried to dismiss it at first, the ignorance extending beyond your grasp, but now, holding her like this, the depth of her devastation told you there was more to it. Agatha wasn’t just someone Rio cared about—she was someone Rio loved, the only person she ever truly loved.

Rio’s sobs continued to shake her tall frame, and you held her tighter, even through your own suffering, as flashes of your last moments together crashed into you. It all made sense now. The distance. The arguments that spiraled out of nowhere. The way she’d simply disappeared, leaving you with questions that burned like open wounds, and a heart wounded by her cruelty.

She had fallen in love.

She had fallen in love with someone else.

The thought sliced through you again, sharper this time, and you had to fight the urge to pull away. To protect yourself. To let the hollow ache in your chest guide you into a defensive shell. Instead, you stayed. You held her. Because even if her heart had chosen someone else, yours still belonged to her. And you wanted to say something, anything that could offer solace. Words teetered on the edge of your tongue—a joke to lighten the air, a reassurance that she’d be okay, a confession, never able to see the light of day, that you’d buried deep for so long you weren’t sure it could ever surface. But the words lodged in your throat, too heavy, too tangled with your own grief.

So you stayed silent. This wasn’t the first time you had carried her pain over yours, and you suspect it won’t be the last. Her tears soaked through your shirt, hot and unrelenting, and her sobs turned to shuddering gasps. She clung to you as if you were the last solid thing in a world crumbling beneath her feet. And maybe, you were. Right now, you’d be whatever she needed. You pressed your lips against her cold cheek, arms still wrapped around her trembling form, “I’m here. Always.”

Even so, you couldn’t offer her what she sought, the life she once had with Agatha. That kind of love was never yours to give, never wanted by the woman in your arms. Death was never yours. But you knew you could offer her this: the steady, unwavering presence of someone who cared.

Someone who has and will always love her.

[teamfortressblr]

Team Fortress 2's concept art featured in The Art of Videogames (2007)

A transcription of the paragraphs shown can be found below.

Inspiration

"To both complement Team Fortress 2's exaggerated gameplay and differentiate ourselves from the modern photorealistic look of most other multiplayer action games, we chose to employ an art style inspired by early- to mid-20th-century commercial illustration alongside 1960s industrial design elements. Specifically, we drew inspirartion from the styles of commercial illustrators such as JC Leyendecker, Dean Cornwell and Norman Rockwell. These artists were known for illustrating characters using strong, distinctive silhouettes with emphasis on clothing folds, and they tended to use shading techniques which accentuated the internal shape of objects and characters while emphasising silhouettes with rim highlights rather than dark outlines. The nine character classes of Team Fortress 2 were designed to be visually distinct from one another. Even when viewed only in silhouette with no internal shading at all, the characters needed to be readily indeitifiable to players. For elements of the world associated with each of the two teams, blue and red, we defined specific contrasting properties to set them apart. While the red team's base tends to use warm colours, wooden materials and angular geometry, the blue team's base is composed of cool colours, industrial materials and orthogonal forms. We also deliberately avoided modelling the world in an overly complex or geometrically off-kilter manner, as this would add an unnecessary level of visual noise — not to mention memory-hungry vertices — to the scene. We found that keeping repetitive structures such as the bridge trusses, telephone poles or railroad ties to a minimum is preferable for our style, as conveying the impression of repetition in the space is more important than representing every detail explicitly. In general, the texture maps used on the 3D world are impressionistic, meaning that they are painterly and maintain a minimum level of visual noise. This is consistent with the style of painting used on background plates in many animated films, particularly those of Hayao Miyazaki, in whic broad brush strokes appear in perspective as if present in the 3D world rather than on the 2D image plane. Miyazaki also influenced the game's world and character colour palette." — Charlie Brown, project lead

Art and technology

"Valve is a goal-driven technology company, and game and visual design goals drove Team Fortress 2's technology requirements. Its unique look relies on artistic decisions made before the technology was implemented. For instance, a phong/rim-lighting shader was created specifically to help the characters 'pop' out of the environments. It removes detail in colour and then adds detail back in as highlights, giving the characters a stylised look that's simple yet sophisticated." — Charlie Brown

Bold outlines

"The specific characteristics we needed were mostly dictated by Team Fortress 2's gameplay. Foremost, we wanted players to be able to intuit each character's unique gameplay features at a glance. The Heavy Weapons character, for example, had to quickly convey strength, sturdiness, slowness, and the ability to pack a real wallop. To further aid in quick readability, each character class requires a bold, distinct silhouette shape." — Charlie Brown

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1960 mid-century modern in Morro Bay, CA has seen some things. It was the backdrop for adult films in the 1980-1990s, so it's got an interesting history. 3bds, 3ba, 1,369 sq ft, $990k.

Look at how attractive it is outside. This is cute.

The living room has a unique 2 step platform for the wood stove. I like the shade of green they chose.

In the corner, there's a cute little built-in counter, plus room for a dining table. Architectural features include high, cut-out ceilings with windows and skylights.

Love the kitchen colors. Lots of natural light, vaulted wood ceiling, lovely blue tile and that tree really makes it pop.

Nice guest powder room has a sink that matches the kitchen.

Bedroom with a vaulted ceiling.

And, this bedroom has a ladder going thru an opening in the ceiling that leads to a loft. That's a unique architectural feature.

The primary bedroom has a skylight, thick beams with pot lights, a garden window, and a large en-suite.

The bath has the same blue mosaics that match the kitchen, plus a sunken tub and a rock wall.

Some round MCM sinks with gold swan faucets that are 'in" right now.

Lattice covered patio includes an outdoor kitchen with blue mosaics.

Stairs go up to a gate that opens to a lovely roof top deck. Look at the view.

It's so nice up here.

And, there's a little outdoor laundry area.

This unique house really stands out in the neighborhood. It's not far from the ocean, either. 2,400 sq ft lot

[inthe-dark-tonight]

whatever’s on tonight

joel miller x fem!reader

part 2

summary: a weekend in the desert is anything but lonely with joel miller around

word count: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ (mdni), no outbreak AU, established relationship, no mention of age difference, fluff, unsafe p in v, creampie, swearing, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, hot tub sex with joel miller ;)

notes: came up with this idea while listening to the next best american record by lana del rey <3 i wrote this all last night and barely looked it over so sorry about any mistakes and thank you for reading!!

Whatever's on tonight // I just wanna party with you // Topanga's hot tonight // I'm takin' off my bathing suit // You made me feel like.., // There's somethin' that I never knew−I wanted

You and Joel decided to rent a bungalow outside of big bend national park for the weekend, somewhere you can both relax and disconnect. It was a last minute decision, you can’t even remember the last time the two of you got a chance to do something like this. You made sure to book a place that was a little more secluded so you could enjoy the peacefulness of the desert, and having a hot tub to relax was a necessity.

You both took a half day at work, packed up the truck then headed out. It was nearly a 7 hour drive, you spent the time talking and listened to music while looking at the scenery to pass the time. About half way through your trip you stopped at a little diner to have dinner, then got back on the road.

As you get closer to the bungalow the two of you are staying in, you begin to feel more excited about the little get away. As Joel drives down the winding desert road leading to the house, the sky is fading into a dark blue shade, dusk slowly taking over. You look over at Joel as he drives, the silhouette of his side profile made more prominent by the fading light behind him. A smile grows on your face as your eyes trail over his features.

“What?” He smirks and glances at you for a second before looking back to the road.

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you break into a smile. “Just excited that’s all.”

He takes one hand off the steering wheel to find yours on your lap and intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing lightly. You sit in silence until he’s parked in front of the bungalow, only letting go of your hand to get out of the car.

“Here we are.” He gives you a content look as you both unbuckle your seatbelts and climb out of the car.

You stop for a second after closing the passenger door staring up at sky in awe, now filled with stars as the moon takes the suns place in the night sky. Joel comes up behind you, wrapping his large arms around your waist. You rest your arms on top of his and lay your head back onto his shoulder, eyes never leaving the sky.

“Beautiful” He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Mhm” You hum, unaware that he was talking about you.

“Let’s bring our stuff in.” His voice is soft, you turn your head to look up at him and his lips immediately meet yours in a gentle kiss.

You let out a sigh before he moves to unpack the truck, hands lingering on your hips for a short moment. You help him grab a few things before the two of you walk up to the house. Joel sets down his bag while he fiddles with the lock box that holds the key for a minute, and you can’t help but laugh.

Once he finally unlocks the door, you walk in and the space is beautiful, a small kitchen lined with floor to ceiling windows that leads into a cozy living room. You set down your bags to take a look around, the home is mid century style and it’s exactly what you hoped for when you booked it. You walk to the other side of the living room and find another wall filled with floor to ceiling windows, a small bathroom, and a door that leads to the bedroom.

Joel trails behind you as you enter the room, a large king size bed facing a sliding glass door that leads to the patio and hot tub, and a bathroom with a huge walk-in glass shower across from a vanity with a giant wall to wall mirror. You turn around and walk over to Joel, a thrilled smile on your face as you jump up and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Woah there.” He chuckles and wraps his arms around you, squeezing tight as he buries his face in your neck.

“Sorry, I’m excited.” Your voice is muffled as you nuzzle into him.

He pulls back from you, planting his hands on your hips and kissing the tip of your nose.

“How ‘bout I grab us some drinks and we go out back?” He’s resting his forehead against yours now.

“Only if you go in the hot tub with me.” You give him a playful look.

“Whatever you want, baby. We’re here to relax.” He squeezes your waist before turning around to head for the kitchen.

You grab your bag from the living room and dig around for your bathing suit and snag a shirt from Joel’s bag to slip over it. As you’re putting on your bathing suit, you hear music coming from the living room. You tie your bathing suit top as quickly as you can and throw on Joel’s shirt before walking towards the music.

You see Joel in the corner messing with an old radio, switching through the staticky channels until he stops on one that’s coming through mostly clear. You recognize the song that’s coming through the speakers, and he turns around setting his beer on the coffee table before walking over to you.

Anyone who’s ever had a heart

Wouldn’t turn around and break it

He grabs your hips pulling you into him, hands resting on the small of your back as he holds you close. You rest both your hands on his shoulders.

“Dance with me.” He whispers before starting to sway back and forth.

You move your hands up to wrap around his neck,and rest your head on his shoulder, listening to his heart beat as you sway back and forth with him. Your eyes close, getting lost in the moment just feeling his warm chest move under you with each breath. As you sway back and forth, you lift your head to look up at him and rest your hands on his chest. His nose gently brushes against yours as he stares at you with heavy lidded eyes.

Heavenly wine and roses

Seem to whisper to me when you smile

Joel spins you around causing you to let out a laugh before pulling you back in, his lips meeting with yours in a feverish kiss. One of his hands moves up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer as he lets out a content sigh.

Sweet Jane

Oh sweet, sweet Jane

He breaks the kiss still holding you close, eyes locked on yours as he continues to sway with you until the end of the song. He gently tucks a hair behind your ear before breaking the silence.

“Let me get changed and I’ll meet you outside.” He whispers to you, and you nod in agreement.

He plants one last gentle kiss on your lips before you walk to the bedroom and open the sliding door to the deck. When you step outside it’s a bit chilly, you quickly remove the cover from the hot tub and dip your hand into the warm water. When you look up towards the sliding glass door you see the silhouette of Joel’s broad frame in the dim light of the room as he walks towards the door. He’s holding two beers in his hand when he steps out, his eyes meet yours before closing the door.

You stand there with your hand in the water still as he sets the beers on the edge of the hot tub. He walks over to you and you turn around, leaning up against the hot tub facing him. Your eyes roam over his exposed chest and shoulders as he saunters towards you wearing a pair of dark blue swim trunks that hang dangerously low on his waist. He reaches out to grab the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, knuckles skimming the skin on your thighs as he slowly lifts it. You raise your arms allowing him to remove it before throwing it off to the side somewhere, leaving you in just your black bathing suit. His warm hands run up and down your sides caressing your soft skin as his eyes roam over your body.

“You’re heavenly.” He squeezes your hips, shaking his head in disbelief.

You rest your hands on his stomach right above the hem of his swim trunks, he sucks in a deep breath as you slowly move your hands up his soft stomach, over his chest and rest them on his solid shoulders. His hands move to squeeze your ass and you let out a small yelp causing Joel to chuckle.

“Very funny,” you roll your eyes giving him a playful smile as you grab his hand. “C’mon.”

You pull him along as you walk towards the steps to get in the hot tub. As you climb in, he rests his hand on your lower back. Once you're sitting he climbs in after you letting out a low groan as he sinks into the warm water. He grabs the beers from the ledge of the hot tub and hands you one, eyes staying locked on you as he takes a sip of his own. You’re sitting across from him, watching him as you sink further down into the water. He rests his arm over the edge of the hot tub holding his beer, and runs his other hand through his hair dampening it slightly.

“C’mere baby.” He sets his beer down and sits up straight.

You push yourself off the edge of your seat and swiftly lift yourself to straddle his lap, your drink forgotten on the other side of the hot tub. You settle in his lap, hands resting on the sides of his neck as he looks up at you. He trails his warm hands lightly up and down your back, causing goosebumps to form all over your damp skin.

“Joel…” you breathe out, rolling your hips into his.

“Goddamn.” He lets out a low moan.

You lightly pull at the hair on the back of his neck causing him to close his eyes for a moment, tongue sticking out to wet his lips. You can feel his hardening length start to grow beneath you, and when he opens his eyes again they’re immediately glued to your chest.

As his warm breath fans across your skin you move one of your hands to find the tie on the back of your bikini, pulling at the string once you find it. Your bathing suit top loosens and his eyes widen, darting up to yours. Then you move both your hands to the tie at your neck, pulling it loose and letting your top fall into the water before placing your hands on the ledge behind him. You can feel Joel’s fully hardened cock underneath you now as he takes in the sight of your bare chest.

“Fuck.” His hips lift and you press yourself into him.

“Like what you see?” You grind your hips into his again.

He looks up at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw as he nods in agreement. You grab his hands from your hips and lift them up to your tits, his eyes falling back to your chest. Your hands cover his as he lightly squeezes and kneads them while you continue to roll your hips into him.

“So pretty.” He hums.

You let out a small moan and his eyes turn dark as they snap up to yours. You remove your hands from his and slowly move yourself back, reaching into the water for his swim trunks. He sees what you’re doing and lifts his hips up as you pull them down, exposing his fully hardened cock.

He removes his hands from your breast to untie the strings on the bottoms of your bikini, pulling them out from under you and tossing them to the other side of the hot tub causing the water to slightly splash on you. You flinch and let out a small shout, leaning into Joel.

“Sorry” he says between laughs.

You wrap your arms around his solid form, laying your bare chest against his before meeting his lips with a passionate kiss. A long sigh leaves you lips as your body relaxes into him. His hard length is flush against your folds, tip nudging at your clit as you slowly thrust against him.

You’re breathing heavily as you break the kiss. “Need you.” It comes out quiet and soft.

“I’m all yours baby.” He grabs your face, placing his lips on yours again.

You slowly lift your hips until you feel his tip catch at your entrance, causing him to let out a low moan that vibrates through your chest. Joel slips his tongue past your lips deepening the kiss as you start to slowly sink down onto his cock. You remove your lips from his and let out another soft moan.

“Oh my god Joel, feels so good.” You mumble against his lips, nose nudging against his.

He’s speechless, both hands on your face as he looks up at you. You slowly move yourself up and down on his cock at a steady pace, just taking in the way he feels slowly stretching you. You tug at his hair causing his head to tilt up towards you more, and that sets something off in him.

He lets out a low growl before lifting you up off of him, spinning you around so your back is to him. Then he starts gently pushing you to the other side of the hot tub, his hands rest on your hips as you settle on your knees and your hands grip the ledge. Seconds later he’s thrusting his cock back into you, causing your body to jolt forward as you let out a gasp.

His pace starts out slow as he trails kisses down your bare back and shoulders. Then he starts to pick up his pace resting one of his hands over yours, the other on your hip as his broad frame leans over you. You turn your head to get a glimpse of him, and he leans forward, removing his hand from yours to grab your jaw as he kisses you.

“Take me so well baby.” He hums as his pace quickens.

Heat is building in your stomach, ready to snap at any second. His hand on your hip moves to wrap around you, holding you flush against him.

“I’m close.” It comes out barely audible.

The hand that’s holding your chin moves to rest on your shoulder as he lets out low grunts into the side of your neck, leaving hot kisses on your skin.

“Let me feel you, sweet thing.” He whispers into your ear, his deep voice making you shudder.

It’s enough to make the coil in your stomach finally snap, eyes fluttering shut as your walls clench around him. He lets out a groan as he fucks you through your orgasm, your name falling from his lips in low moans as his pace starts to faulter. He starts to pull out and you quickly grab his hand that’s resting on your shoulder, stopping him.

“Inside Joel,” You let out a breath. “Please.”

He slows down and plants both his hands on your hips, your words were enough to send him over the edge as he releases himself into you. A whimper leaves your mouth as you feel his warm load coat your walls. His forehead rests on your shoulder as he comes down from his high, breathing heavily while trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, baby.” He leaves a soft kiss on your shoulder before pulling out of you with a low hiss.

After a moment Joel sits up and turns his body towards you, one hand resting on your inner thigh, the other draped along the edge of the hot tub. You sit up a little and your eyes meet his.

Both of his hands move to rest on on your cheeks, caressing your soft skin with his thumbs as you wrap your arms around his neck. He leans in to kiss you again, deep and slow as your lips move in sync. He breaks this kiss too soon leaning his forehead against yours, eyes closed and he takes in a deep breath. You keep your eyes closed, carding your fingers through his hair as you take in this moment.

Your chest swells, as you open your eyes you find him peering at you through heavy lidded eyes.

“Joel…”

“It’s true, all the roads lead to you. Everything I want and do.” He takes a deep breath.

Your hands rest on his broad shoulders as you brush your lips against his, taking in what he just confessed to you.

“I love you.” It’s barely audible, lower than a whisper.

Your lips fully meet with his and he grabs your legs to swing them over his lap, lips still attached to yours.

“I love you too.” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek.

You curl up closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder. His large hand runs up and down your back as you both sit there taking in the moment, listening to each other's breathing and the faint noises of the night.

tagging a few moots <3

@sscorpiiio @gracieheartsspedro @ilovepedro @pedrospartner @joelsversion @javiscigarette @jenispunk @beskarandblasters @tinygarbage @shatteredbaby @nostalxgic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @isitmeulookin4

thanks for reading 🤍 and thank you @pr0ximamidnight for letting me ramble and send updates ily AND thank you for the summary 🫡

thinking about a part 2 also if anyone’s interested 👀 my asks box is open to chat!

[aelfheimerandrobots]

... Oh god damnit! I just realized why I keep associating Rung with mid-century design and fashion. First of all, it has to do with his holoform.

(( courtesy of transformers wiki and reddit respectively but taken straight from the comics))

Now you might be thinking, "Freyr what are you talking about? The first image doesn't look anything like pictures of men in the 60s and 70s and the second one looks victorian!" And you'd mostly be right but also, WRONG! Mid-century design started as early as the 30s/40s! At least what we actively refer to as mid-century design got it's start then and really came into swing in the 1950s before dropping off right as the 80s hit. And even then, Rung's first holoform wouldn't have been too out-of-touch for the 60s in some academic circles. And then there's the side-burns! Sideburns were HUGE in the 60s and 70s!

But the real problem is Rung himself. Look at this bastard!

(( comic cover)) Look at his color scheme! Look at that specific shade of orange that he is compared to the light blue/teal of his optics and spark window! Look at it!

Then look at this!!!

This is just an example but that same fucking shade of orange is all over mid-century design and mid-century revival! EVERYWHERE!! And it's especially paired with that same shade of lightblue/teal (they're complimentary colors so it makes sense but the point stands). I am hip fucking deep in interior design these days while I try to build a portfolio for an interior decorating business and mother fucker every time I look at Rung by brain goes "Huh...why do I feel like Rung is/would like mid-century design?"

*gestures emphatically above*

THAT'S why! It's the sideburns and outfit and his fucking color scheme!! It's like it's hard-wired in my brain to associate the two! Fucking hell! Why the fuck didn't I see it before?!

[marsipaniscool]

I have to ask about your thoughts on how kars was radicalized because i've seen the wham post and now I'm curious

:D! okie dokie! 1.7k words of young kars angst is served hot and ready! also slight esikars in part 2 ! :) TW: brief description of violence [1/2] under the cut for length

(I will be assuming that Kars' former tribe is the only pillar tribe on earth, I simply haven't thought about other tribes :,) ) SO let's start with just a general overview of Kars' life. He's 103,000 years old, according to the wiki. It's mentioned several times, both directly and indirectly (Wamuu and Santana's ages now vs. when they were shown to have been taken at infancy), that the pillar tribe was only slaughtered by Esidisi and Kars 10,000 years ago. So, that's 93,000 years Kars spent with his tribe being abused and chastised.

The pillar tribe was a small and tight-knit community with few distinctions politically, economically, or socially. This social wealth fostered an attitude of peace towards nature, humans, and themselves. The tribe had long made peace with their inability to bask in the sun, fostering a story similar to that of Abrahamic Adam and Eve. A group of pillar people upset the sun god, and, as punishment, their people were banished from the sun for all eternity. Surviving the night of life was necessary for the light of the afterlife.

Kars, when he came of age, followed in his family's footsteps and became an apprentice to his father in natural philosophy, with a focus on medicinal alchemy. He didn't mind, having had an interest in science for as long as he could remember. His parents, masters of the subject, lovingly fostered this interest. Every star and constellation, every planet, every asteroid band, everything in the night sky he knew. He knew the clouds too—that odd shade of grey. He wasn't fond of them very much; they blocked out the stars.

It started with irritation at having to rush miles into the forest surrounding the temples at dusk, just to hope to get to the blossoms he needed for his latest project. He often failed, the flowers long since pruned by the creatures of the light. Even a scrap of a petal seldom remained for Kars.

That irritation became anger when the humans who worshiped them would have sun-kissed skin, and the children would still smell of the ocean waves. They'd laugh and tell stories of how warm and lovely it was. He rushed out into the evening one day, as soon as it was safe, only to feel heat boil in his chest as the air around him grew colder, no longer warmed by the sun. To indulge in the sun, all of it, to be able to feel the warmth on his skin and to be burned, if even for a moment, was all he desired. He wanted to pick the flowers and the fruits that flourished during the day and feel the life flow through them—life given by the sun.

It bothered him greatly that he came from the flesh of the earth, the same as any creature, yet he and his people are the only ones to be cursed like this. He doesn't understand why they're so complacent or why they're so accepting of their fate in the darkness.

First, he goes to his father, the man who spoiled him and loved him his entire life. He paces around frustratedly, hands running through his hair, horns fully protruding, and lets out centuries of buried anger. His father stops him mid-sentence with a hand, laughing loudly.

"The sun isn't a friend, nor is it a foe. It's not something to be feared nor conquered. It simply is not our dominion. While the moon doesn't hurt the humans that worship us, many fear it and the darkness it heralds. They tell stories of monsters, of horrific demonic creatures in the night. The sun is their dominion, as the moon is ours."

Kars went to the elders, only to be met with recommendations to visit the tribe's shaman and to be induced into a lengthy meditation with their moon goddess.

He was infuriated now. Why didn't anyone understand? Whenever he brought up concerns he deemed worthwhile, they were dismissed with, "This is just how things are!"

Word spread quickly among the small tribe, with the older men coming to mock him every morning and evening when he would head out to see the last rays of the sun peaking over the horizon. It escalated to outright mockery wherever he would go. At meals: "Is this food as warm as the sun?" Whenever he would wear jewelry of the sun, he was boisterously, cruelly laughed at, and had it ripped off of him. He used to love wearing gold, the colour of the sun; it complimented his hair and complexion so well, he thought. His tribe laughed at him and dirtied his garments with mud, rotted meat, and whatever vile fluids and liquidy things that were within reach. Black was the colour of the night, and it didn't show the stains. He started wearing his hair up, first in braids, then in buns, then in his wraps. He was tired of it getting mucked up, tangled, yanked, and abused.

One night he entered the galley, and as he stood on the stone pedestal overlooking the table, he realised there was no seat for him. He left as silent as he came.

[prettyvintagehouse]

Mid century glass light shade now in my etsy store

[natlacentral]

Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh: The Costumes of Avatar: The Last Airbender Season One

Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh revealed the complexities of creating the costumes of Avatar: The Last Airbender Season One, visually translating the four nations and their iconic characters from animation into live-action.

Since 2005, Avatar: The Last Airbender has inspired us with compelling storytelling and its deep mid-19th century historical culture influences–including but not limited to Asia, Mesoamerica, Inuit, Eskimo, and indigenous cultures. The universally acclaimed animated series spanned for three seasons (or three books) and expanded into a sequel series and several different mediums, but after a live-action misstep in 2010, the epic franchise finally found its way to Netflix with a brand-new retelling of the world of Avatar. The live-action series of the same name premiered on February 22, 2024 and immediately captivated the audience through its outstanding cinematography, with a brilliant cast transformed into the beloved characters through the vibrant creations of the costume department. Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh, the costume designer responsible for translating the series from animation to live-action revealed the inspirations and manufacturing challenges and rewards behind the garments of Avatar: The Last Airbender: “A lot of it was research, looking into the cultural background of the nations and the characters that were originally inspired by the animation, learning and understanding their history and tradition. I studied garment history and how clothing was traditionally worn in those cultures, what influenced their color palettes and fabrics, then tried to meld them together in a way that paid homage to the animation but at the same time respectfully and authentically represented the real life cultures. That was really the first step into it.”

Visually creating a fantasy world is a momentous task, where in comparison to contemporary or even historical filmmaking each background character has to be fully developed to build the rich population within storytelling. Khaki-Sadigh and her team crafted over 400 costumes that visually defined the Air Nomads, Water Tribes, Fire Nation, and Earth Kingdom. She said, “For the Air Nomads, I decided to pick the color palettes you see in Fall season … the rusts, oranges, yellows, maroons, deeper browns, it’s just so warm and comforting. For the Water Tribes, I looked at icebergs. There are so many hues of blues and teals; it’s not just white. I also explored how the ocean reflects the light differently, creating various shades of blue. With the Fire Nation I was really inspired by volcanoes, looking at all the different shades you see when a volcano erupts, from the fiery lava to the ashes–the reds and oranges within the lava and the blacks and grays from the ash and from when the lava hardens. Then for Earth Kingdom, the inspiration came from forests and springs. So that’s sort of how I broke down the different color palettes and expanded on what was in the animation.”

Avatar: The Last Airbender showcases the art of “bending” elements, which requires a full range of motion to visually achieve the right level of grace and power on screen. Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh explained the importance of fitting room action tests to assure practicality while wearing these intricate costumes on set: “It’s really important to make sure that it becomes almost like a second skin to the actors, otherwise they would feel out of place, taking them out of character. For example, we changed Aang’s cape; we had it fuller at the beginning but we found that it kept hitting him and didn’t flow as nicely, so we had to taper it down, re-alter the shape of it. It took a lot of math trying to figure out the patterning to get it to a place where it’s still read like a full cape but at the same time it moved with him as opposed to hindering his movements.” Then she added, “We had the Fire Nation armor shoulders wider to match the animation, but after we did some tests we found out that they limited how far they were able to move at the shoulder point. So we made them narrower, which just made the design a little bit different from the animation, but the actors were able to move freer for their bending.”

The costume design challenges for the show continued outside the fitting room. Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh explained that in order to achieve color consistency between outdoor and Volume sets were daunting–the latter’s LED lights forcing fabric changes and prolonged dying processes for many costumes: “We dyed the Fire Nation armor leathers five or six times because in daylight they had a beautiful deep shade of burgundy but in front of the Volume the color turned hot pink! In order to find the right hues to actually read red, we had to go super dark in real life … almost like a blistery color.” She added, “With Aang’s cape, we loved the color, but when we tested it [in the Volume] it was also pink … we tried about ten different fabrics before we narrowed it down to three and chose the one without a pattern with a brownish rust color that read the right hue on camera.”

Being the main protagonist of the series, Aang’s costume had to be just right. The simplicity of the Air Nomads garments meant the costume designer had to focus on texture and layering to prevent a flat look on camera, also utilizing natural fibers to represent the Air Nomad’s peaceful lifestyle. Besides the cape practicalities and color complexities, Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh recalled a peculiar challenge that followed the team throughout the filming of Season One: “Gordon [Cormier] was a growing boy, so every few weeks we had to build him a new pair of pants because he would outgrow them. I think he’s got probably around twenty pairs of pants, which probably will not fit him anymore [laughs].”

There is a beautiful visual perspective in Avatar: The Last Airbender that separates foreground and background characters, the former showcasing more vibrant shades of color and details that define their journeys away from home and unique personalities. For Katara, Khaki-Sadigh incorporated flowy water wave patterns in her parka and the under tunic inspired by Inuit art, whereas for Sokka her team implemented a more geometric design for his costume–symbolizing the character’s engineering background. His armor in particular included some Viking elements, which the costume designer revealed came from her discussions with some of the indigenous advisors on the show, delving into their trading culture and how they would build clothing and tools based on what they had access to–from leathers to bones. She said, “We built all those little rings and hand sewn them into the armor’s leather, creating a sort of chainmail look. We then casted the shoulders to look like metal, taking that element from the fact that there were Fire Nation ships that have basically been abandoned, so he would have been able to use the metal from them to create a protective layer for himself because he’s the warrior of the tribe.”

The show had yet another gorgeous display of fantasy period costume design with Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors. From the golden headpieces to the intricacies of the armors, Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh delved into the process for making those samurai-inspired costumes: “In my research, I came across a group of female samurai warriors called Onna-Bugeisha, which was my inspiration for the Kyoshi warriors. I found this beautiful leather that had this basket weave print on it which became our base for the armor, very traditional for the style of Japanese samurai armors. The headpieces were 3D printed and they all had their own unique geometric fan pattern on them, then we painted them and wrapped the leather straps around with five different layers of hand braided braids, creating these tassels at the end of it.” She then revealed a fascinating fact about Suki’s costume: “The fan that crosses in front of her headdress is actually a vintage fan that we took apart and used to create the front … It had such a beautiful pattern and texture. Also, if you look closely at the corset portion on the bottom panels of the armor, you can spot small little geometrical fans that are laser etched onto the leather to create a little bit more texture and detail onto it.”

Among the Fire Nation, two characters really drove the villainy side of the tale in Season One–on one end Zhao, an ambitious general with a personal agenda, and Prince Zuko on the other, the heir to the throne who is navigating an uncertain path between his devotion to his people and the moral complexities of war. Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh’s team created several looks for the two villains, incorporating symbolic elements that defined their personas: “There’s something just so mysterious about Zhao. He sort of beats to the tone of his own drum so we incorporated his own personal crest, different from the rest of the Fire Nation. If you look at the details of his armor, on his gauntlets and on the skirt panels, even on his shoulder crest when he ends up wearing the [Admiral] cape, there is a different pattern that still has a flame weave to it, but it’s very unique. When he became Admiral, we made a more regal and powerful version of the costume inspired by the traditional Roman conquerors.” Then she delved into Zuko’s designs: “He goes through a lot of changes, personality and emotionally. He’s the man of many changes … he had more changes than any of our cast had, but I think the biggest thing for us was his armor. I wanted to make sure that it was regal prince-like, it stood out in comparison to the other Fire Nation armors, but at the same time, it was still part of the brigade. He’s holding onto so much tradition. He has this overwhelming struggle of what he personally believes and what is expected of him. His armor is not just like a physical thing, it’s also a metaphorical armor; he hides behind this armor to portray something that is expected of him, but yet he’s not sure if that’s who he is yet. We added a bit more layers to him with his armor, doubled the shoulders and three or four panels on his armor to add a little bit more rigidity to him.”

With Avatar: The Last Airbender renewed for two more seasons, the costume designer confessed she looks forward to designing Ba Sing Se and Ember Island and overall further developing the characters through more cultural history exploration. This interview barely scratches the surface of the team’s immense work, so if you crave more behind-the-scenes, make sure to follow Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh on Instagram.

[deepdreamnights]

Okay, I will admit it.

We took a wrong turn.

But just because the bird is looking at us with two eyes at once doesn't mean its a bad omen.

Prompt: a dinosaur-person on Miami Vice, on-set photography, 4k, sharp focus, official media:: curvy britney spears, full body character design illustration by akiman and john byrne, for street fighter alpha 3, large build, plump, whiplash curves, line art with flat anime cel shading:: a Thylacine in the woods, sunlight through the leaves:: a white chocolate ghoul with almond claws lurks in a crypt made of cake, character art, candyland, hearthstone, sharp detail, digital painting, in the style of don bluth, frank cho, jack kirby, miyazaki, tony diterlizzi, wayne reynolds, monster manual, fiend folio:: a red flying saucer with lights on it hovering over the mountain in Japan, screen grab from an episode of Japanese tv show in the late '70s:: ,the plaza mall in this painting, in the style of mid-century illustration, light cyan and red, digitally enhanced, calotype, monumental architecture, orange, midwest gothic

--

This is a 'prompt smash' experiment, combining random (mostly) machine-generated prompts into a single prompt with multiple sub-prompts. Midjourney blends concepts in these situations, making vivid but essentially random results.