#mixed material façade

[scottdisickfashionstyle]

Traditional Exterior - Siding Inspiration for a huge timeless gray three-story mixed siding exterior home remodel with a mixed material roof

[leclerc-hs]

it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16

pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.

In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.

Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.

“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.

Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.

“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?

You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice. 

“Peut-être.” Maybe.

At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.

You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.

You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.

Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.

-

You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.

“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.

With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.

You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.

“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.

Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke. 

“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.

“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.

His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.

Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck. 

“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.

You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.

He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.

 You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.

His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.

“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?” 

Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.

“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?” 

Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.

You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.

“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.

“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”

-

“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.

Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.

You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.

He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.

“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house. 

Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”

Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?

Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.

-

“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.

You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door. 

Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.

Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.

“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.

“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”

You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.

“So eager, mon chou.”

You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary. 

He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.

“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.

It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.

You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment.  At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.

Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.

“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.

You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.

A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!

 Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.

He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.

Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.

His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.

His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.

“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?

Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.

And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.

-

“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.

The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.

Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.

You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.

“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.

Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?

You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.

As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.

“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.

“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.

“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.

Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?

“Quoi?” What?

“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?

You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.

“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.

“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.

You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.

You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.

And that was that.

-

Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.

He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.

You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.

You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.

He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.

“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”

Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep. 

“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.

You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.

“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.

“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

You shook your head repeatedly. 

“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.” 

Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?” 

Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you. 

It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.

Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush. 

“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”

It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.

For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.

Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you. 

It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.

“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you. 

“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.

You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.

It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.

“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.

“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.

“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.

“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”

“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.

“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.” 

He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.

You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.

“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.

“Je t’aime.” I love you.

Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.

“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.

“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

[yuzupurpletaro]

Two years ago during lockdown, I spent my time creating Aziraphale's bookshop using cardboard and various other random materials I had lying around, creating this piece which I could slot into my bookshelf (now it sits next to my growing collection of @neil-gaiman works).

In celebration of Good Omens Season 2, I decided to post pictures of the completed project and the process here! It's my first time posting on tumblr, so forgive me if I'm a bit green.

Details and process below!

Before we ever got to see what was on the bookshop's upper floor, I imagined a bedroom, perhaps lived-in. Maybe a certain demon had moved in, along with their plants?

The teeny pride flag in the window is one of the subtle ways I sneak in a celebration of pride into my room, away from homophobic prying eyes.

My favourite details! I printed out both signs on Aziraphale's door, the images of which I believe I got from fans that posted them online.

Due to poor planning on my part, I started making this flower shop as well before I knew how it would fit in with the bookshop. In the end, they remained separate pieces. There was even a mini chalkboard sign for the flowershop, which I have no idea where it has disappeared to now.

It all started out in August 2020, when I put pencil to paper. Initially I wanted to create a street view, with the bookshop and flower shop on either sides. But honestly my brain was too small to figure out how that worked, so it didn't happen.

The most fun part was folding the tiny paper books. The least fun? Cutting rectangles out of cardboard and painstakingly gluing them down to resemble bricks.

Painting was alright, but on closer examination, the walls were all of different colours due to my inconsistent paint mixing. To ensure that what was essentially a cardboard façade of the bookshop could stand on its own, I created a pavement with added flowering shrubs and a lamp post. The street sign on the lamp post says 'Garden of Eden', which I now know should have been Whickber Street :)

And that's it! I believe I spent ~62 hours working on and off on it, and it certainly kept my lockdown blues at bay.

Can I hear a wahoo?

[deliciousangelfestival]

Cozy Secrets || Chp 3

Character: Spy!Bucky x Roommate!Reader

Summary: Y/N found herself at her high school reunion, accompanied by her unexpected fake boyfriend, who also happened to be a spy.

Chp 1 , Chp 2, Chp 3, -

Main Masterlist || buy me Ko-fi 🥹💓

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

The days turned into weeks, and there was still no sign of Bucky returning home. Y/N continued with her life, focusing on her work as an interior designer. Today's agenda involved meeting a new client, Mr. Kensington, an eccentric aristocrat who had recently acquired a house in New York.

Y/N arrived at the grand mansion, its façade oozing opulence and mystery. The butler led her through the elaborate corridors adorned with priceless artifacts until she reached Mr. Kensington's study. The room was filled with antique furniture, rare paintings, and an air of sophistication.

"Ah, Ms. Y/N, delighted to meet you," Mr. Kensington greeted with a flourish. He was a distinguished man, dressed in impeccable attire that matched the grandeur of his surroundings.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Kensington," Y/N replied, taking a seat.

Mr. Kensington wasted no time in getting to the point. "I've heard of your extraordinary skills in interior design, particularly your ability to keep matters discreet. I have a rather unique project for you."

Y/N nodded, intrigued. "I'm all ears. What do you have in mind?"

Mr. Kensington leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a spark of excitement. "I need a secret vault hidden in my study. A concealed door, perhaps behind a bookshelf or a portrait. I trust you can handle such a task?"

A secret vault, Y/N thought, the intrigue deepening. She had designed various rooms and hidden spaces in the past, but this request added a layer of mystery she found intriguing.

"Of course, Mr. Kensington. Creating concealed spaces is my specialty. Do you have any specific preferences or themes for the hidden door?"

Mr. Kensington stroked his chin, contemplating. "I fancy the idea of a bookshelf that reveals the entrance when a particular book is pulled. As for the theme, surprise me. I enjoy the unexpected."

Y/N nodded, mentally noting down the details. "Very well. I'll start working on the design, and we can discuss any adjustments or additions as the project progresses."

"Excellent, Ms. Y/N. Money is no object, so spare no expense in ensuring the utmost secrecy and sophistication," Mr. Kensington declared with a sly smile.

As Y/N delved into the intricacies of the project, discussing potential materials, hidden mechanisms, and the overall aesthetic, she couldn't help but be drawn into Mr. Kensington's eccentric world.

Days turned into weeks as Y/N meticulously planned and executed the design for the hidden vault. Mr. Kensington, appreciating her dedication and creativity, granted her access to the entire mansion, including rooms filled with his vast collection of artifacts.

One day, while working in the study, Y/N felt a subtle change in the atmosphere. The workers seemed unfamiliar, and a hushed voice whispered, "Psst, it's me."

Startled, Y/N turned to see Bucky disguised as one of the workers. The realization dawned on her – Bucky had been undercover in Mr. Kensington's mansion all along.

"Y/N," Bucky greeted with a smirk, "Surprised to see me?"

A mixture of relief and curiosity washed over her. "Bucky, what on earth are you doing here?"

Bucky chuckled. "Let's just say, your client and I have a mutual interest in keeping things hidden."

Y/N's surprise at seeing Bucky in disguise quickly transformed into a mix of confusion and intrigue. As she absorbed the revelation that Bucky had been undercover, she couldn't help but wonder about the true nature of Mr. Kensington's secrets.

Bucky, maintaining his cover among the workers, approached Y/N with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "Fancy meeting you here, Y/N. Turns out, our dear client has more than just a penchant for eccentric designs."

Y/N, still processing the information, replied with a subtle nod. She had become accustomed to the unexpected twists in her life, but this one took the cake.

Bucky leaned in, speaking in a low voice. "There's a nuclear code hidden within Mr. Kensington's vault. My mission is to retrieve it, but the security here is tighter than I anticipated."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, realizing the gravity of the situation. A nuclear code – a high-stakes game that transcended the realm of her usual discreet designs. She glanced at the intricately designed vault, wondering how it concealed such a dangerous secret.

"So, what's the plan?" Y/N asked, her words measured and composed.

Bucky explained the intricacies of the security systems and the need for Y/N's expertise. Her task was to create a diversion, something significant enough to draw attention away from the vault, while Bucky maneuvered through the mansion in pursuit of the elusive nuclear code.

As Y/N immersed herself in planning the diversion, she couldn't shake the feeling of being caught in a web of espionage and secrecy. The mansion, once a canvas for her creative designs, had transformed into a labyrinth of hidden agendas and dangerous secrets.

The night of the operation arrived, cloaked in shadows and suspense. Y/N, clad in dark attire, executed the diversion with precision. A well-timed malfunction in the mansion's power grid created chaos, diverting attention and leaving the security team scrambling to restore order.

In the midst of the commotion, Bucky, still disguised as a worker, stealthily navigated through the mansion. His every move calculated, blending seamlessly with the chaos Y/N had orchestrated.

As Bucky approached the vault, the tension escalated. The intricate mechanisms of Y/N's diversion worked their magic, creating a window of opportunity for Bucky to access the vault without raising suspicions.

However, just as Bucky reached for the vault's hidden entrance, an unexpected voice echoed through the study. "What's going on here?"

Y/N, stationed strategically to monitor the situation, recognized the voice – Mr. Kensington himself, drawn to the scene of the disturbance.

Bucky froze, his disguise momentarily at risk. Y/N, acting on instinct, stepped forward, her voice calm and authoritative. "Mr. Kensington, there's been a technical glitch. We're working to resolve it. Please return to a secure area."

Mr. Kensington scrutinized Y/N for a moment, his gaze piercing. Yet, something in her demeanor convinced him to heed her instructions. With a reluctant nod, he retreated from the study, leaving Y/N and Bucky in the tense aftermath.

As the seconds ticked away, Bucky resumed his mission. The hidden door creaked open, revealing the vault's mysterious contents. The nuclear code, concealed within a secure compartment, awaited extraction.

With the mission accomplished, Bucky discreetly exited the study, merging back into the chaos of the diversion. Y/N, maintaining her composed exterior, discreetly observed his retreat.

Once the mansion returned to a semblance of normalcy, Y/N and Bucky reconvened in a discreet location. The weight of the mission lingered between them, unspoken words echoing in the air.

"Thanks for the assist, Y/N," Bucky acknowledged, his gaze a mix of gratitude and an unspoken understanding.

As he prepared to depart, a sincere expression of gratitude painted his face. Bucky enveloped Y/N in a heartfelt hug.

"Y/N, you're a lifesaver," he whispered, the weight of unspoken appreciation hanging in the air. With a nod and a final glance, Bucky disappeared into the night, leaving Y/N to navigate the aftermath of espionage and the echoes of a world she had unexpectedly become a part of.

Y/N returned home, the events of the covert operation still playing in her mind like a suspenseful movie. The intricacies of espionage and the clandestine world were not something she had ever imagined becoming a part of, yet here she was, entangled in the mysteries that unfolded beyond her interior design projects.

The next day brought an unexpected visitor to her doorstep. A woman dressed in black, exuding an air of mystery, stood on her porch. She introduced herself as Natasha, a member of the same agency as Bucky.

"Y/N," Natasha began, her gaze sharp and assessing, "you handled the situation with Mr. Kensington admirably. You have a knack for navigating high-stakes scenarios. We could use someone like you."

Y/N, still processing the surreal turn of events, regarded Natasha with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. The agency, with its covert operations and hidden agendas, seemed like a world far removed from her artistic endeavors.

Natasha continued, "You've proven yourself resourceful and discreet. We have a proposal for you – join our ranks. Work with us, and your skills won't be limited to interior design."

Y/N hesitated, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. The quiet life she had known, filled with designs and creative projects, now stood at a crossroads. The allure of the unknown, coupled with the desire to unravel the mysteries that had become intertwined with her life, tugged at her curiosity.

"What do you say, Y/N?" Natasha inquired, her expression unreadable.

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[darthvashtique93]

A Cosmos In The Sand

Chapter 2

Raven sat at her vanity, dressed and surrounded in luxury, but feeling as depressed as ever. Her top was made from gold and iolite, spun by Slaede's personal magic weavers. It was tight and covered only her breasts. Her skirt was made from the same material. It barely covered her undergarment as there were slits on both sides. A 2-row coin anklet made from gold decorated one foot, while a thin, iolite thigh-ring adorned the opposite leg. A tiny iolite stone decorated her belly button. A finger-to-wrist hand bracelet with five rings weighed down her left hand. An iolite armband with gold chains wrapped around her right arm. The large hoop earrings were surprisingly, thankfully, very light. Raven always forgot she was wearing them until after she moved her head. Her eyes were lined with a dark kohl, bringing out the natural, violet hues. Finally, her hair – black as night but shone violet when either sunlight or moonlight hit it just right – fell straight down her back. She looked every bit the prized jewel Slaede made her to be. She hated it. The soldiers referred to her as Slaede's treasure, and Slaede dressed her as such.

Her traveling tent was just as decorated as her room back at the palace. The most comfortable throws, the softest pillows, and iolite incense burned her lungs. She was even allowed to ride Slaede's favorite horse, something she only did when she felt compelled to do so. And while she enjoyed the finest foods and wines, her family – her sisters – suffered in dungeons. Raven's service to Slaede was the only thing keeping them alive and safe from Slaede's most perverted guards.

Raven closed her eyes and prayed for respite from her burning lungs. Tears gathered behind her closed eyelids. She didn't know how much longer she could continue this…this façade. She loved her family, but she was beginning to wonder if they were worth the pain and agony. The innocent lives lost because of you, her subconscious reminded her. Raven tried not to think of the screams of those dying at the hands of Slaede's army, but they flooded her dreams. She honestly couldn't remember the last good night's sleep she had.

A sob broke through Raven's painted lips. She was so tired – tired of being afraid, tired of feeling worried, tired of being tired.

Opening her eyes, Raven spoke, "I know you're there." She was greeted by silence. Turning on her stool, Raven faced her seemingly empty tent and spoke again, "Don't I deserve to see the face of my would-be assassin?" Scanning the tent, Raven's eyes came to rest on a dark corner, where a shadow seemed to emerge from a shadow. The warrior stepped into the light. He was tall – at least a head taller than Slaede. He was muscular, darkly tanned, and his eyes were a strange mix of green gold. The hatred that burned in his eyes seared her skin "You've been betrayed, Ibn al Xu'ffasch," Raven continued.

The warrior froze, a question marred his handsome face. "You know my name," the warrior stated in disgust.

"And I know why you're here, Damyan," Raven replied. She opened her mouth to say more when she felt a burst of energy in her soul. Colors of every kind swirled in her eyes. Multiple visions of the same event played in her mind. Suddenly, she saw her salvation – multiple ways to freedom that began and ended with him. She needed him. He needed to survive this night. "You-you've been betrayed," Raven repeated while her mind fought to come up with a plan to ensure her assassin's safety. "You-you've…" she paused as she willed her brain to think faster. Confusion swept crossed the face of Ibn al Xu-ffasch. It was quickly replaced by hate. He drew his weapon, but before he could take a single step, soldiers flooded Raven's tent, surrounding him. Shock and anger quickly replaced the hate on his face. But it was too late for him. His momentary lapse in focus allowed 10 of Slaede's finest soldiers the opportunity to rush him. Before Raven could think, Damyan was bound to a beam supporting Raven's tent.

"Well, well, well," Slaede was heard before he was seen. His soldiers parted, making room for Slaede to stride up to Damyan at a leisurely pace. "You look so surprised," Slaede smirked up at the young man. Damyan looked past Slaede. "You!" he spat at the short figure standing behind Slaede. "You betrayed us!"

"I did," the figure, Mara, smiled brightly. "Grandfather really should have listened to you. Alas, the old man was surprised when I slit his throat. I could tell…by the look on his face," she held up the decapitated head of Ra's al Ghul. Raven was surprised to see sorrow fill Damyan's face. He must have really loved the old man. "Here," Mara tossed the head at Slaede's feet. "By my grandfather's head, I pledge my allegiance," she bowed her head.

"I welcome you with open arms," Slaede said.

"Father!" another voice called out. Raven scowled at the sound of the voice. "Look who I found!" Graent dragged a squirming female behind him. Raven had no idea who the female was, but judging by his aesthetics, she was Damyan's mother.

"Ama!" Damyan gasped as the woman was forced to the ground.

"Hello, Talia," Slaede walked to the woman and smirked down at her. "You know, Damyan, in another life, I would have been your birth father. Who knows? Maybe the King of Go-tham would still be alive had Ra's given me your mother as promised," he angrily grabbed Talia's face. "Maybe I'll have her anyway," he smirked evilly.

"I'd rather die," Talia sneered.

"That will be arranged," Slaede marched over to a bound Damyan and searched him. Behind Slaede's back, Raven looked to see Talia staring up at her. Please save my son, Raven heard Talia's voice in her head. Raven looked at her in shock. Save him, Talia spoke again, and he will save you. Raven gave a minute nod.

"Here it is," Slaede pulled a knife from Damyan's ankle. "I'll give you another chance, Talia. Swear allegiance to me."

"Damn you."

"Fine." Grabbing Talia by the hair, he plunged the knife directly into her throat.

"Ama!" Damyan yelled out, and the sound tore at Raven's heartstrings. Talia fell to the ground as a gurgling sound came from her throat as she choked on her own blood. Raven looked away from the macabre sight, but instantly regretted it when she met Damyan's hateful gaze. "I'm going to kill you, sorceress," he growled, and Raven had to step back at the wave of hate she sensed coming from him. Yes, Raven thought, I can use this.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14253019/1/A-Cosmos-In-The-Sand

[familyvideowithsteve]

façade, pt. five : the morning after - steve harrington x fem!reader

This material may not be copied, reproduced, displayed, modified. This is my work, do not steal it, do not republish it.

summary: it's the morning after, everyone's waiting for what's to come.

warnings: (reading the first series is highly recommended) /NSFW/, no use of Y/n, she/her pronouns with no physical description, violence, near death experiences, blood, weapons, insecure thoughts, angst, self doubt, trust issues, jealousy, nightmares, anxiety disorders and depression (warnings for the entire series not the individual parts)

word count: ~4.3k

façade the first series | the sequel | spotify playlist | pt. six

Opening up her eyes, blinking a few times as she woke up from a deep sleep, she immediately felt some weight on the side of her body, and when she tilted her head, she saw a hand resting on the outside of her right thigh.

Steve’s arm was sleepily laid across her thigh and she instantly felt this pressure creeping itself on her stomach as soon as she opened her eyes, turning her head and saw that his face was close to her shoulder, he was deep asleep, by the slow rhythm of his breath and his relaxed face, it brought a wave of melancholy through her body.

Strands of his hair resting against his angelic sleepy face, if things were different, completely different, she wouldn’t feel this deep sadness, she wouldn’t feel so heartbroken.

She’s about to annihilate their hope of becoming something together.

She feels so much shame, guilt, but all she can picture, from everything that happened to them in the last couple of days, seems to be Steve’s heart eyes for Nancy in the Upside Down as they were on their way to Victor Creel’s house, all she can picture is how they were in high-school, every interactions until they were together as a couple, every kiss in the corridors, at parties, and how perfect they were and looked.. and those heart eyes as they were marching along a suicide mission.

She doesn’t acknowledge what happened the night before with Steve, no, scratch that, she doesn’t take it seriously. Even his words, talking about staying with her everyday of his life, made her wince in discomfort, he couldn’t make a promise like that, not when Vecna was still alive, the gates were out, Max was very badly injured, when he looked at Nancy like that and overall they had no idea what was next.

The night before, in and of itself, was a mistake, it didn’t matter, nothing made any sense, nor did it matter with Vecna on the loose, ready to kill everyone and everything that ever existed.

Even worse, and she was ashamed to think like that but what she had told him was true, she was triggered by them, by the memories of them in the corridors, she didn’t have any feelings for Steve then but the heart eyes they gave each other in the Upside Down, accompanied by a lot of mixed feelings led her to believe that she didn’t deserve Steve, that she wasn’t worthy of him.

She will never be. She needs to rip the bandaid off and she needs to do it quickly.

Her eyes drifted from his face to the ceiling, she started to feel some nausea, the taste of bile in the back of her mouth, and gently, she pulled his arm away, and tried her hardest to not wake him up as she escaped to the main bathroom, upstairs, closed the room shut and let out the remnants of her stomach, followed by bile.

The cold tiles against her legs gave her goosebumps, she started noticing her heart’s palpitations, she could physically feel it beat fast against her ribcage; then the shortness of breath came on.

“No..” she whined, more like cried.

Without even realising she was having a panic attack. Having completely laid down on the tiles, her forehead on the floor, hoping the difference of temperature would ‘shock’ her out of it, but it didn’t work, it just painfully passed, her fingers were pressing so tightly into the palm of her hands her nails had left bloody nail marks.

Tears she had not noticed and could not control were rolling down, erratic breaths escaping her lips, her eyes screwed shut, frowned her eyebrows in discomfort, pain.

And when it was finally over, she slowly laid her back against the bathtub wall, trying to steady her her breathing, everytime she closed her eyes she was back in the Upside Down, with its thick toxic atmosphere, its monsters lurking in the darkness, silently, this terror living in her stomach, feeling so disoriented and lost.

The smallest bit of pain from her side reminded her of the violence she had to face in there, how the Upside Down’s not merciful. She forced herself to open her eyes, facing the door, closed, drying out her tears, taking a deep breath, hunched up as much as she could.

Closing her eyes one last time to force herself to take a deep breath, even if she relived her solo trip down there every time.

Breathe in. . . out. . . in. . . out. . .

Dustin woke up with a start, cold sweat falling from his forehead, out of breath.

He didn't know if he was dreaming or having nightmares and if he was, he couldn’t even remember what they were about.

He had woken up with this weight on his shoulders and his chest, this darkness lurking in a corner.

His heart was beating so fast he could feel it by resting a hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath.

It's like he was back there again.

He was cold, freezing, he hadn’t even realised that his hands were slightly shaking, but holding onto Eddie so hard his knuckles turned white.

As if he were still there again, he could smell Eddie's blood, and all he could see was blood, cherry red, and it was everywhere. It felt cold on his fingers, the tears falling on his hands felt like red-hot water.

His last breath left his lips, his eyes still open.

Glassy, the pupils were almost covered by a thin layer, clouding his honey brown irises.

Then the guilt, the shame.

Even if he remembers that she managed to bring Eddie back, and that he's alive, he can't stop but blame it on himself, how he got hurt, died for minutes, sacrificed himself to stall some more time.

He tried so hard to ground himself, trying to ease the panic, but it didn’t work the way he hoped.

By pushing the anxiety away he only welcomed it back more.

Soon, he was hyperventilating, his heart beating erratically, he could feel his thoughts spiralling, tying knots, betraying himself, silently crying to not alert his mother, who was worried enough for him.

He was alone.

Nancy and her mom had talked together about doing donations for the families in need, who had taken refuge in both the gymnasium of Hawkins High and Middle School.

When she had asked if Steve and her wanted to participate she said yes, which led her to go through some of her old clothes and toys in her parents’ garage while Steve was driving to his own house.

Eddie was better, he had tried to stand and walk, even if it was still a bit painful, he could walk around the house, he still had to stay at hers’, his status of a fugitive wouldn’t be that easy to get rid of, even when –or if– they manage to stop Vecna at whatever he’s prepared for next.

Steve immediately sensed the mood change with her, she was closed off, stuck in her thoughts a lot.

He had hoped so hard that they were on better terms, not because they had slept together, he knew better, no, it was merely a distraction for him, but because she had started to open up, was less closed off to him, and he keeps wondering over and over again if he had said, or done anything to upset her.

He has no idea.

And then, mindlessly parking next to his house as he was trying to go through the events of the night before, he remembers what she told him. The jealousy, the emptiness and the extreme uncertainty she feels… and he doesn’t know what to do, what to say to her without sounding like an asshole that doesn’t care, he doesn’t want to dismiss her feelings and her.

He sighs, leaves his care and goes inside his house, in search of clothes, food or anything that could be useful for helping the families in need while she does the same, rummaging through boxes in her garage under Eddie’s concerned eyes.

He had also noticed how she was quiet, closed off, and couldn't understand her behaviour. And as she was hunting down for old clothes, teddy bears and bedclothes, he recognized her irritation.

Weirder still, she was scavenging for things that, from what Eddie had imagined, would not be useful for donations of families in need, she now was rummaging through boxes and drawers for equipment and.. stuff?

“What are you doing?,” Eddie dared speak up, sceptical, his eyes furrowed.

She let out a breath of frustration, he thought she would stop to explain herself but in a quarter of a second she was back to going through the drawers.

Her name fell on his lips in a firm whisper, and she forfeited, turning around slowly to face him, distress evident on her face.

“Tell me what’s bugging you, and please, as you do, tell me why you’re rejecting Steve when he practically threw himself at you last night,” he gave her a puzzled look, she had hoped so badly he wouldn’t notice anything but he’s smarter than he looks, she needs to remember that.

She sighed again, stepped further so her back was against the wall, crossing her arms, “Steve and I doesn’t concern you and as for..”

“Excuse me? ‘Doesn’t concern me’”, he quoted in the air, eyes big and eyebrows “After I’ve had to play Cupid in an interdimensional version of Hell? Are you kidding?”

She completely ignored him, her tone came a little more harsher than she wanted, her eyes stuck on Eddie, “And as for what I’m doing.. It’s him. He’s opened the four gates to the Upside Down, he leaves them open but he doesn’t attack? He’s literally done what he promised he would do. It’s weird. We need to use that time to get prepared, find whatever we can to.. I don’t know… make survival backpacks? In case of extreme emergency, we need to survive an apocalypse.”

“The apocalypse?” He had this grin coming on his lips, an amused expression on his face.

“Yes, Eddie, the fucking apocalypse, Armageddon, or whatever the hell you wanna call it! He delivered us his plans on a silver platter, and it fucking happenned. He has to be preparing something, he can’t just give up. He didn’t get Max, but he did get Jason and it was perfect for him since he had turned completely psycho because of Chrissy’s death. But, he got Jason after we shot him to his near-death, then he ripped open four gates of Hell in Hawkins so he’s still around. Him, and those fucking monsters.”

Eddie’s smile fell quickly, she was right. He hadn’t really thought about it, but she was right.

The threat was very much real and very much around, he started thinking about their little trip in the Upside Down and imagining how far it all could go, he was terrified, he suddenly began to feel cold, he couldn’t be more terrified.

“I’ll help you pack some things for the donations, I obviously can’t go but when you're done, we should call a meeting, plan our next moves, or try to… You’re right, I’m sorry.”

She had scarred both him and herself, her head hung low, she wasn’t quite sure if it was desperation, frustration, sadness, fear, or all of the above but her eyes started to water.

“This isn’t going to end well, Eddie, I can feel it.. It’s..,” with a finger on her chin he made her look up softly, their eyes met, and his mind went completely blank, there’s nothing he could say to comfort because he couldn’t believe it himself.

Instead of words, he put both his arms around her shoulders and held onto her, tightly, like an unspoken promise, her hands scrunched his shirt on his back, she was also holding onto him, as she let her tears cascade down her cheeks, wetting his shirt.

They were packing Steve’s car, in front of the Wheelers’ driveway, she had managed to sneak a word to Nancy about doing a group meeting after they went to the gymnasium.

With the help of her mother, Nancy was putting away more stuff so that they could donate it, both Dustin and her were quiet, long gone in their thoughts as they were putting away the boxes in Steve's trunk, who was busy getting the boxes from Nancy, Robin next to them.

Steve had also noticed how Dustin was quieter than usual too, but he didn’t say anything, and preferred to wait until they would all meet in her house to talk about what they would do to sneak a word to Dustin, he wasn’t quiet, he was a very loud and very sarcastic kid who had lost all of that, it worried him.

Not knowing what to do or say to both her and Dustin frustrated him, he felt useless, he now stood next to the both of them, Nancy catching up with him when they heard an unfamiliar vehicle approaching.

A van? A pizza van? What?

Steve turned around fully, frowning, his shoulder involuntarily brushing on her’s, “What the-” he let out as the van parked right in front of the Wheelers’ driveway, she briefly looked at him then turned to the van.

To their surprises, Jonathan, his brother and Nancy's exited the van accompanied by a girl with shaved head and a very long haired one left the van, Dustin gasped and started to hobble towards his friends, Nancy put her box in Robin’s arms without any warning and stepped toward Jonathan. Ran, actually.

The two embraced hurriedly, a rapid kiss on the lips as they held onto each other tightly, whispering things to one another, Steve looked away, trying to not be intrusive, his eyes fell on the one he wished he could be this close with, but she had stopped looking at them. Her head hung low.

She felt his eyes on her, his shoulder was further into her, she hesitated but curiosity –and longing– got the best of her, and she looked up. Some of his worry went away when she didn’t look away, but instead kept their eye contact.

Feeling braver, Steve gently offered her his hand, she briefly looked at the motion, seemed to think it through, and suddenly he awaited her rejection.. But it never came, instead she laced their fingers together, tightly, her head looking up at him again.

A weight had somehow been lifted off his shoulders, he felt relieved, maybe there was something he could save, maybe it wasn’t all over, he still held hope for them.

The parking lot was full, SUVs from the army were everywhere, along with firemen and paramedics, they had heard that Hawkins was receiving help from the neighbourhood states, many people were missing, some had lost their home and had nowhere to go.

There was something deeply unsettling about stepping in the gym, they all felt it differently, but they were on the same wavelength about one thing: they felt responsible for the people hurt, who had lost everything and they were the only ones to know how and why it happened the way it happened.

It wasn't just an earthquake, and they would realise that way too quickly, and it would be so deadly.

Steve had encouraged them to go on, as both Dustin and her had stopped by the doorways (left often to facilitate passage), they gave away the boxes, looking at one another they offered if they could be of any help.

Each had a spot in a different corner, Steve was sorting and giving clothes to the people in need, Dustin was offering water, Robin was making PB&Js’, and she was outside, with other volunteers, firemen and paramedics sorting out medical equipment donations that came from the neighbouring states.

She was gathering some unnamed boxes from a truck when she caught a glimpse of Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, stepping in the gym, she stopped in her tracks, not knowing what to say or do, she obviously couldn’t tell him the truth, nor confirm that he was missing, she wouldn’t be able to lie to him, but he also couldn’t just not know where his nephew was.

He would probably recognize her from the many nights she spent crashing at his trailer, but what exactly could she say to him. She was livid, rightfully so, she handed her box to another volunteer nearby and followed him inside.

He was pinning Eddie’s missing poster –or replacing it as people had drawn horns on his head– on a board that was already so full, unconsciously, her hands started to fidget, her fingers picking on the skin around her nails, while her gaze was on Wayne.

Dustin’s eyes fell on her as he was handing water, he followed her look and saw Wayne, he understood immediately her dilemma, he put down the platter and started hobbling towards her.. when they were all surprised with a thunderstorm.

Everyone had stopped what they were doing, an unsettling silence taking place as a second thunderstorm shot through the sky.

Everyone rushed towards the windows or outside, where they all could see some black smoke or cloud, they weren't sure, the atmosphere started to thicken already but they couldn't feel it yet.

The dark clouds –they appeared thicker than plain smoke– carried more red thunderstorms, the worse was the snow size particles –the same one from the Upside Down– falling from the dark clouds, that's when they knew it was already happening.

She rushed inside, the only one to move through the crowd outside observing the scene, she looked for and met Steve, both with a very serious face as they looked for the others and hurried back to her house.

Back at her house they waited for the others to be back, Dustin sat on the couch, next to her, his good leg wouldn't stop moving up and down in apprehension.

Rovin was the one pacing up and down, under the very stressed pair of eyes belonging to her and Steve, Eddie sat in the stairs watching the front door.

Apprehension, stress and fear radiated from all of them. They were experiencing similar thoughts, it was spiralling, their minds on neverending wheels.

Stress and anxiety crippling in, watching Robin pace up and down in her living room was like torture, her brain was playing the events from before and the what ifs. So many what ifs.

Her right leg had also started going up and down, her hands fidgeting involuntarily, from where she sat she could see the garage door open, where she had put some essentials in boxes with Eddie.

After staring at that door for what felt like eternity she suddenly stood up and went straight to the laundry room where she was scavenging for backpacks, loudly, under Steve's confused eyes.

He dared asking her what she was doing –very fair question– to which she screamed she wouldn't do this again.

Another thunderstorm and her body went frigid, she turned around, backpacks under her arms.

"We need to pack essentials–backpacks!," Steve had opened his mouth but she stopped him right there, "Listen, I want to be wrong so badly, but those dark clouds, the thunderstorms, the fucking spores coming from the sky, all of this comes from the Upside Down, which is fucking starting to spread."

She stopped to catch her breath, her eyes softened, looking right at Steve, he sensed what she meant.

"I get you. I do. But we need to wait for the others, wait for them to–"

"What if they're not coming? What if we need to move quickly? I know I'm new at.. all of this, but Steve, I have a really bad feeling about this," she ended up whispering the last bit, her concern evident on her face and in her voice.

It was her eyes, they told him something else, but he couldn't put a finger on what exactly her eyes were asking of him. He felt her concern, but what else was there?

"What if they are coming? Maybe it hasn't travelled to that part of the forest.. what I mean is.. we should wait for Nance," her name fell on his lips like a resolution, like it was a finality.

Like he took the decision for them.

It didn't sit right with her.

"So what, we're supposed to wait for them– for Nancy to make our plans when absolutely anything could happen? What if the gates opened further and waves of Demogorgons just invaded Hawkins? Are we still waiting for Nancy then?!"

Eddie stepped from the stairs and was stepping towards the living room where a corridor led to the laundry room.

His eyes met Dustin's, at this point she was talking very loudly, all of them could hear their argument.

"Are we also waiting for Nancy to save us when those bats will rummage through Hawkins? Biting, eating, strangling everyone to their imminent deaths?," she paused, stepping closer to Steve, feeling rageful by the minute, completely lashing out on him.

"Or let's wait for that gigantic shadow monster to take control of everyone and they've all turned into an apocalyptic zombie movie? Let's wait when there's nothing we can do!"

"Let's wait for Nancy to save us, our Lord and saviour! We wouldn't be here without her would we? You know what, you're right, we're going to patiently wait for her and hope for the best!"

She aggressively pushed Steve out of her way, storming out into her room, pacing up and down as she was unable to contain her anger.

She tried sitting on her bed but she couldn't stay put.

Downstairs, Steve was shocked, taken aback, lashing out like that wasn't like her. He was confused.

His hand nervously travelled through his hair, a trembling breath escaping his lips.

His feet slowly moved to the living room, where three pairs of eyes were expecting him, all questioning what had happened.

He was about to open his mouth but he stopped himself, what would he say? what would he tell them that could, potentially, explain what happened?

Nothing, because he didn't know.

He didn't understand what just happened.

He was about to dismiss what happened when they heard the sound of glass breaking upstairs, his brain moved faster than his muscles, he stopped himself in his tracks, she probably didn't want to see him right now if she was so mad at him.

He sent a knowing look at Eddie, who silently agreed to go upstairs, on his way up, a couple steps in they felt a slight movement in the house, an earthquake.

It lasted a couple minutes, small enough to feel it, to make the furniture vibrate but nothing much.

They all stopped, waiting for something else, something that never came, so he stepped further to her bedroom, while Robin had ran to the closest windows that showed the street.

Nothing had changed, there were more dark clouds, and the same amount of thunderstorms, same red colour, nothing had really changed and it had already gotten dark outside.

There were no evident signs that something was happening. Yet.

Eddie opened the door and found her sitting on her bed, a cloth around her hand, dotted in red colour.

He looked around but found no evidence of broken glass, until he approached the bathroom, and found her broken mirrors, shards of it everywhere in the sink.

He turned around and finally met her gaze, a sigh left his lips as he sat next to her, his hands wrapped around her palm, and tried to uncover the cloth to see how bad it was.

The cuts were still bleeding, he couldn't see much, but he covered it back and sighed, his eyes met hers' once again.

There's nothing he could say that would make her feel better, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, brought her closer to him, his lips ghosting over her hairline.

"We'll get through this," he finally whispered, the top of his head resting against her's, his hand gently caressing her arm.

"We have to get through this. I promise I will do anything to protect us, I brought you back, I'm not wasting my efforts."

He trusted her, he knew he could trust with his life, she had already proven that, he didn't know if he could promise it back, he would try though.

When the small earthquake shook Hawkins and everyone waited anxiously to see if anything would happen.. it should have been their signal to leave, plan something, seek shelter or even better leave Hawkins altogether.

The portals had opened further, vines were the first thing that went through, their roots were already running deep in the soil and the asphalt, travelling further into the city, the sun setting earlier in the day was an omen for them, they were hiding in the obscurity of the night setting.

Oftentimes revealed by the red thunderstorms, went unnoticed as no one dared to leave their houses.

Another earthquake shook Hawkins then, much more intense than the first one when the four gates opened, the ground was completely ripped apart, more houses destroyed, demolished, most of the city was in shambles.

Roads were destroyed, markets, pharmacies and shops were barely able to handle the shock. The hospital.. the south and east wings were in ruins, on fire, the north and west wings.. were still holding on but not for very much longer.

There were more fires spreading, more red thunderstorms, more spores. More blood and bodies already starting to pile up.

A swarm of demobats entered first, silent as they were lurking in the darkness, small shrieks echoing in the sky were the evidence of their presence.

Then, the first of many Demogorgon passed through, letting out a strident shriek in the night.

It had started.

-> pt. six

tags (of the prequel and/or people who liked the masterlist): please don't hesitate to ask me to tag you but do it in my inbox @freezaz123 @ihavebecomesomething @aphetropy @sigh-mon-says @madaboutjoe @sheerfreesia007 @mystic-writings @333starbride @seatnights @gabby123rocks @mmmcunt @ourprisma @hauntors

(mutuals that might be interested): @strangerquinns @stiles-o-dylan24 @stevharrington (if you'd like to be tagged let me know!)

[sebastiansallcw]

dark legacies - part one

word count: 1300+ warnings: n/a about: clementine cubs, the new fifth year slytherin, gets a proper Hogwarts welcoming from sebastian sallow. a/n: first time dueling with sebastian...nothing too fancy. just first major interaction with them. this is also posted on ao3. the characters are aged up for later chapter purposes. enjoy!

“Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome,” Sebastian Sallow proclaimed, brandishing his wand from its holster and striding purposefully to the end of the dueling platform to the new fifth year student. With an air of self-assuredness, he spun away from Clementine Cubs, whose acquaintance he had made just hours before in the cozy confines of the Slytherin Common Room. She met a few other Slytherins, one being Ominis Gaunt teasing the first years about the sea creatures through the glass. 

As he strode forth, his robes billowed dramatically behind him, as if to announce his impending display of wizarding prowess.

Sebastian is cocky, noted.

“Now, I want a fair duel using only Leviosa. Basic Cast, and Protego.” Professor Hecate stated, which left Sebastian chuckling. 

When Clementine made her way into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, she found Sebastian engaged in a spirited duel with the Gryffindor student, Leander Proweet. With effortless grace, Sebastian deflected each Stupefy spell hurled his way, his wand moving in swift and elegant motions. He taunted Leander with a playful smirk, asking "Is that all you've got?" before unleashing another Stupefy, which ricocheted off and struck the skeleton hanging overhead.

The Hebridean Black skull came hurtling down towards Leander, threatening to crush him beneath its weight, but at the last moment, Professor Hecate conjured a well-timed Leviosa spell that lifted the skull back into its proper place. 

Clementine wondered if Sebastian would attempt the same move.

Would it even matter? The journey Clementine endured to step foot alive into Hogwarts proved as much, she could defend herself against some other Slytherin boy–or anyone else in her class. The events from last night haunted her. There seemed to be no valid reasoning for why a dragon would act like that, unprovoked. 

The unknown always had a way crawling underneath her skin, infecting her body with anxiety. 

Definitely not worse than tumbling towards the ground after a dragon attacked the carriage. 

Without warning, the ground beneath Clementine and Sebastian surged upward, lifting them skyward on a cushion of magic. While Sebastian took it in stride, evidently anticipating the surprise, Clementine flailed her arms in alarm, trying to steady herself on the levitating table. A soft blue cloth materialized beneath their feet, and Clementine scanned the surrounding faces, feeling the weight of dozens of curious eyes upon her. Some of her fellow students stood with arms crossed, while others peered at her intently, their expressions a mix of amusement and intrigue.

What secrets lay behind the elusive newcomer's enigmatic façade? Though she had arrived late to the Sorting Hat Ceremony and appeared to be little more than a humble apprentice to Professor Fig, there was an undeniable air of mystery about the fifth-year student. Sebastian wanted to figure her out, whatever it would take to get to know her. Sebastian found himself staring at her during charms class, watching her practice Accio in Summoner’s Court.

Anne, his twin, would be curious too. 

At first glance, Clementine might have seemed like any other ordinary Hogwarts student, with her long auburn hair cascading in loose waves down her back, half-tied up in a carefree knot. Sebastian knew there was something undeniably intriguing about her - something that set her apart from the others. 

Perhaps it was the way she carried herself, with a quiet confidence that hinted at hidden depths of strength and resilience. Or maybe it was the jagged scar that cut across her face, a testament to some long-ago battle or accident–Sebastian could think about how she earned the scar. Whatever the reason, there was no denying the curiosity that simmered in the mind of the by watching her, wondering what secrets lay behind that enigmatic expression.

“You may now begin.” 

Sebastian smirked as he squared off against Clementine, confident in his own abilities. "This should be easy," he remarked casually, before unleashing a flurry of spells - Protego to defend himself, followed by a quick Stupefy aimed at his opponent.

But Clementine was more than prepared for his onslaught, her wand moving with deft precision as she blocked the spells with ease. Without missing a beat, she turned the tables on Sebastian, sending him soaring into the air with a well-placed Leviosa charm.

The Slytherin boy flailed helplessly as he hung suspended in midair, his wand arm pinned uselessly to his side. Clementine seized the opportunity to rain down a relentless barrage of spells upon him, her wand glowing with a fierce intensity as she pressed her advantage. It felt as a part of her forgetting her nervousness.

Sebastian tumbled backwards through the air, battered and bruised by Clementine's relentless assault, and off the platform; he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer skill and determination of his opponent. If Sebastian didn’t want to get to know Clementine prior to the battle, he definitely did now. For a moment, he even felt a flicker of admiration - though he knew that he would never admit it to her face.

Clementine could feel her heart pounding in her chest as the cheers and applause of her peers washed over her. It was a heady rush of adrenaline, and for a moment she felt as though she had been transformed into a different person entirely - someone confident, skilled, and utterly fearless. 

She hoped she didn’t injure Sebastian too terribly, but with his cocky attitude, she hoped he adjusted in his place. 

As the platform lowered back down to the ground, she turned to face Professor Hecate. The older witch's eyes were fixed intently on Clementine, a look of genuine admiration and surprise etched across her face. Clementine wondered if Professor Fig confessed what occurred to anyone before arriving late to the sorting hat. 

She lied to Professor Weasley–perhaps not lied, but kept a secret. 

As she stood there, basking in the afterglow of her triumph, a tall figure stepped forward from the crowd. It was Sebastian, his eyes fixed intently on Clementine as he made his way towards her. He hovered over her, several inches taller. Most boys at eighteen grew to be tall, but he managed to grow slightly above his fifth year peers. For a moment, she felt a flutter of nerves - but then she remembered the power she had just unleashed, and felt a newfound sense of calm and poise.

Without a word, Sebastian came to a stop before her, his expression inscrutable. Then, slowly and deliberately, he extended a hand towards her, a gesture of respect and recognition for a worthy opponent. Clementine took the proffered hand, feeling a sense of camaraderie and shared experience that transcended their differences. His hand was warm, quite bigger than she expected it to be. 

“Not bad for a beginner, you give as good as you get.” Sebastian spoke, a touch of grudging admiration in his voice. He took in her appearance fully after the duel. She didn’t even break a sweat. He would never confess, but he would feel the aching in his body tomorrow after what she did to him.

Clementine smiled at his words, noticing that Sebastian didn’t enjoy losing. She didn’t know anyone who enjoyed the feeling of losing against someone, especially publicly. “I would say it was quite enjoyable,” she hummed, savoring the moment. 

Sebastian noticed the curl of her lip, dimples set in her cheeks.

“That duel was quite something. Everyone will be talking about it.” Sebastian chuckled, a mischievous gleam in his brown eyes. 

At his words, Clementine felt her cheeks heat, feeling a sudden surge of attention that she’d consider both exhilarating and overwhelming. “I did need some practice–” She admitted, wincing at how self-deprecating she made herself seem. 

Sebastian shook his head, expression incredulous. “Practice? Felt more like I was dueling an expert. I guess I didn’t expect a new student to be so…deft with their wand.” He scratched the back of his neck, the gesture Clementine noted as endearing. She noticed he had freckles scattered across his entire face. 

“This isn’t even my wand, I need to go to Hogsmeade–” Clementine replied, but only could speak so much before he interrupted her. 

"Wait," Sebastian interrupted her again, his tone serious. "Perhaps this wasn't your first duel, then. You might be a perfect fit for a certain exclusive, unsanctioned dueling organization." Sebastian pulled her aside, further away so Professor Hecate wouldn’t hear anything about their conversation. He kept his hand on her shoulder, inching closer to her as they discussed what the organization meant. 

Clementine raised an eyebrow, feeling a sudden thrill of excitement at the prospect. "Unsanctioned? That sounds…intriguing," she said, her curiosity piqued.

Sebastian grinned, a sly smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "I had a feeling you might be interested," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's a little...unorthodox, but it's also the most thrilling and rewarding thing you'll ever do. Let me know if you’re interested. You know where to find me." He winked before letting go of her shoulder, walking away from her. 

“See you around, Cubs!” 

[dashalbrundezimmer]

rautenstrauchstraße // köln lindenthal

actually, the building is completely unadorned. nevertheless, it has its charm through the material mix of the façade with slate and coarse washed concrete and the resulting differences in colour and structure. the whole thing is accentuated by the red columns on the ground floor. successful in its simplicity.

[longlistshort]

For Hew Locke’s exhibition, Listening to the Land, at P.P.O.W. he has created intricate sculptures and paintings that are fascinating in person.

From the press release-

Locke is known for exploring the languages of colonial and post-colonial power, and the symbols through which different cultures assume and assert identity. Furthering the themes explored in his celebrated commission The Procession at Tate Britain, and his concurrent installation Gilt on the façade of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, this exhibit engages with contemporary and historical inequities while reflecting on the landscape and history of the Caribbean. The exhibition draws its title from a poem by Guyanese political activist and poet Martin Carter which situates itself between two opposing forces of the landscape – sea and forest. Locke’s show features new sculptures and wall works with recurring motifs of stilt-houses, boats, memento mori, and share certificates referencing tensions between the land, the sea, and economic power. Reflecting on these links, Locke notes, “The land was created to generate money for colonial power, now the sea wants it back.”

Translating to ‘land of many waters,’ Guyana and its physical, economic, and political landscape serve as one of the primary sources for Locke’s work. Having spent his childhood in this newly independent nation, the artist witnessed first-hand an era of radical transformation. Now, the country teeters on the precipice of an oil boom and is one of the world’s fastest growing economies. Juxtaposing personal meditations on the climate crisis with political commentary on the history of a globalized world, Locke contemplates the ways in which colonies were exploited to accumulate capital, and observes how Guyana’s economic future lies in the exploitation of its waters. Locke’s new boat sculptures The Relic and The Survivor embody this broad worldview as the two battered wrecks drift through time and history. Evoking the fragmented and diverse legacies of the global diaspora, the boats’ patchwork sails are interspersed with photo transfers of 19th Century cane cutters and banana boat loaders, while their decks are loaded with cargo that could allude to colonial plunder, trade goods or personal belongings.

Based on an abandoned plantation house, Locke’s newest sculpture Jumbie House 2 features layered images that unveil the spirits that haunt this colonial vestige. Presented alongside are a series of painted photographs of dilapidated vernacular architecture across Georgetown and rural Guyana. Constantly under threat of being washed away by storms or rising sea levels, these crumbling structures echo anxieties surrounding climate change and historical erasure. A new series of mixed media wall works, Raw Materials, is derived from antique share certificates and bonds. Locke richly decorates the appliques with acrylic, beads, and patchwork to draw attention to the complex ways in which the past shapes the present. The image of an 1898 Chinese Imperial Gold Loan behind painted Congolese figures connects the global economy at the height of Empire to current Sino-African trade networks. In another work, a painted representation of a Nigerian Ife mask, alongside an image of David Livingstone, is layered on a French-African Mortgage Bond from 1923, connecting exploration and exploitation of African land, to current conversations surrounding the repatriation of artifacts. Taken together, the works in Locke’s Listening to the Land echo William Faulkner’s adage “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

This exhibition closes 4/1/23.

The Procession, mentioned above, can now be seen at Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art, in Gateshead, England until June 11th, 2023.

Gilt, also mentioned above, is on view at The Metropolitan Museum of Art until May 30th, 2023.

[mommacatshortstories]

Moonless Night

Deep in the heart of the desolate countryside, there stood an ancient mansion shrouded in darkness and despair. Locals whispered of the malevolent spirits that lurked within its crumbling walls, warning all who dared to enter. Few had braved the horrors that lay within, for it was said that the mansion was cursed—a place where the living were tormented by the vengeful souls trapped in eternal anguish.

On a moonless night, a group of thrill-seekers, driven by a morbid curiosity, gathered at the mansion's imposing entrance. They knew not the horrors that awaited them, nor the depth of their own foolishness as they stepped into the abyss of their darkest nightmares.

The moment their feet crossed the threshold, an oppressive atmosphere descended upon them, suffocating their every breath. The air grew thick with an unearthly presence, and the very walls seemed to pulsate with malevolence. They pressed on, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and adrenaline.

As they ventured deeper into the mansion, the corridors twisted and turned, leading them into a labyrinth of dread. Shadows danced along the peeling wallpaper, their ethereal forms whispering chilling secrets to one another. Each step echoed through the empty halls, as if the very house itself reveled in their terror.

Their flashlights flickered, casting erratic beams of light upon the decaying furniture and cracked mirrors that lined the walls. The teenagers' voices trembled as they nervously called out into the darkness, half hoping for a sign of life and half wishing they could turn back.

In a room draped in cobwebs, they stumbled upon a worn wooden chest, ominously half-buried beneath a layer of dust. Driven by a morbid curiosity, they dared to open it, unwittingly unleashing a torrent of unleashed malevolence.

A bone-chilling howl echoed through the room, causing their hearts to race with terror. The walls seemed to close in, the air thickening with a palpable evil. The spirits of the damned materialized before their eyes, their twisted faces contorted with torment and rage.

Shrieks of terror filled the room as the spirits drew closer, their ghostly forms writhing with a sinister hunger. The once-bold thrill-seekers were now paralyzed by sheer terror, their screams drowned out by the cacophony of malevolent laughter.

With each passing moment, the spirits fed on their fear, relishing in the agony they inflicted. One by one, the teenagers succumbed to the torment, their minds shattered and their souls consumed by the relentless forces that surrounded them.

The cursed mansion stood as a grim testament to their ill-fated curiosity, forever trapping their tormented souls within its walls. No trace of their existence would remain, save for the haunting whispers and chilling screams that echoed through the night, a stark reminder of the peril that awaited those who dared to disturb the realm of the restless dead.

From that night on, the mansion stood as a stark warning, a place where the living dare not venture. Its malevolence remained, feeding on the fear of those who gazed upon its decaying façade, reminding all who passed by of the eternal torment that awaited anyone foolish enough to disturb the spirits that called it home.

And so, the cursed mansion stood in eternal darkness, its halls forever echoing with the anguished cries of the damned—forever a chilling reminder of the horrors that lie beyond the veil of the living world.

[tyrantmade]

Reply Continued from this | @naturlich-geborener-morder

SHIT FACED DRUNK, something he hadn't ever expected to see Redfield. He had always been the strong, heroic, thorn in His side. Something very unlike the male, and yet Wesker could say that this wasn't unheard of. There was something inside the German, something that he had worked very meticulously at. Building up this façade, and a false identity to throw everyone off his tracks. Albert had seen it, the action had taken the blonde back a little. Features tightened, as that Cheshire Cat like grin spread across his lips. Ah, the very male he had so long hated, had a impending darkness inside him. He wasn't this clean, goodie two shoes he had been mistakenly believed him to be.

A killer lived inside Christopher, one that wanted out. Those eyes flickered crimson, as he remembered seeing his old nemesis commit a act of absolute evil. Should he have been so blind to this, for so long. But it was of course a ' Dr Jekyll & Mr. Hyde ' type of a deal. There was some good, very little, but it was there. And it held on to control , fighting the ever present evil that churned deep within him. If Albert had known this from his S.T.A.R.S. days, he would have pushed until the male broke. And then persuaded the male to join him. Right now, this drunken stupor Christopher was in , was a act of denial. It was that good percentage trying to numb the anger, and emotions away.

The realization that He, Albert Wesker and Chris Redfield were just alike. Didn't sit well with the blonde, but he loved the idea of it. Eyes settled onto the crumpled form of the brunette, as words spewed past his lips. Defiance, and defeat mixed into a blurred line. He didn't know what he wanted. But one thing was for sure, he was vulnerable, and Wesker could take advantage of that. To be able to free the Monster within, and let everyone see him for what and who he really was. Shifting his footing, he walked closer to male, laying a hand on top of Chris's shoulder.

He didn't know how he would start, but getting the male a little sobered up. Just enough to get him coherent and lively was the first step. Leathered hands moved over black clad pants, fingers grabbing material as he raised a bit of it up, so he could lower down before the male on his haunches. He managed to move forward just enough , so lips hovered near the others earlobe. Mouth still held that dark grin, as he whispered against Redfield's ear.

" Ja, you're not Gammel venn. But don't worry about what want. Let us go, I think you need to get some Mat inn i deg, ja? "

[luxury-residences]

Rustomjee Parishram in Pali Hill, Bandra (W), Mumbai | Buy 3, 4 & 5 BHK Luxury Apartments

Rustomjee Parishram: Luxury Living in Pali Hill, Bandra (W), Mumbai

A Masterpiece of Architecture

Rustomjee Parishram is not just a home; it's a sanctuary in the city. With its 20-storey high-rise tower, residents are treated to stunning panoramic views of the city, the surrounding greenery, and the Arabian Sea. The project's self-cleaning façade and eco-friendly materials ensure timeless elegance and low maintenance, even in Mumbai's bustling urban environment.

Highlights of Rustomjee Parishram

Premium residences with private sundecks

Iconic 20-storey tower with only three residences per floor, ensuring privacy

Double-height entrance lobby for a grand arrival experience

Spacious master bedrooms with walk-in wardrobes

Elegant verandas and water features enhancing the tranquil environment

Multi-level parking for convenience and security

Unmatched Luxury Amenities

Rustomjee Parishram is designed for those who appreciate the finer things in life. The carefully curated amenities include:

Alfresco Lounge for outdoor relaxation

Jacuzzi pool and seating cabanas for unwinding

State-of-the-art gymnasium for fitness enthusiasts

Beautifully designed landscape podium for peaceful strolls

Water features creating a calming atmosphere

Game zone for entertainment and leisure

World-Class Design and Landscaping

The landscaping of Rustomjee Parishram is developed by the award-winning Singapore-based firm, Coen, famous for their innovative landscape designs. The project incorporates lush greenery and open spaces, reminiscent of the area’s historical 9-hole golf course, providing a tranquil retreat amidst the bustling city.

Spacious and Thoughtful Floor Plans

Rustomjee Parishram offers a variety of spacious residences to cater to different lifestyle needs:

3 BHK: 1564 - 1625 Sq. Ft.

4 BHK: 2010 - 2725 Sq. Ft.

5 BHK: 3516 Sq. Ft.

Each apartment is designed with luxury in mind, featuring top-quality materials, large living spaces, and breathtaking views. Whether you choose a 3 BHK or the sprawling 5 BHK, each unit is crafted to provide a serene and elegant living experience.

Prime Location at Pali Hill, Bandra (W)

Living in Bandra (W) means being close to Mumbai’s key destinations:

BKC: 7.4 KM

Rizvi College: 1.1 KM

Khar Gymkhana: 1.1 KM

Linking Road Market: 1.7 KM

PD Hinduja Hospital: 1.5 KM

International Airport: 5.9 KM

With top schools, hospitals, business hubs, and entertainment spots just minutes away, Rustomjee Parishram ensures connectivity and convenience for its residents.

A Vision of Luxurious Living

Rustomjee Parishram is redefining luxury in Bandra West, offering an unparalleled living experience with a unique mix of nature, luxury, and modern conveniences. Whether you're looking for a serene retreat or a well-connected residence in Mumbai, Rustomjee Parishram is the perfect choice.

Don’t miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to own a piece of luxury in Pali Hill, Bandra (W). Contact us today for more information on pricing, availability, and floor plans!

RERA No.: P51800033333

Check out more  luxury apartments in Mumbai  from Premium Developers in promising locations.

Contact Us:-

Website:- www.luxuryresidences.in

Call:- 8010111152

[eminentsoftblogs]

The Rise of Aluminium in Home Interiors: Why Kollam Prefers Variety Aluminium Traderz

In the evolving landscape of home interiors, Kollam, Kerala, is embracing a blend of traditional and modern materials. As homeowners increasingly seek durability, cost-effectiveness, and contemporary aesthetics, aluminium fabrication has emerged as a popular choice. Whether for windows, doors, or modular kitchens, aluminium offers a versatile solution, and one company, in particular, has been leading the charge: Variety Aluminium Traderz.

Aluminium: A Game-Changer in Home Interiors

Traditionally, wood and stone dominated interior designs in Kerala. However, with the growing focus on longevity, maintenance, and sleek appearances, aluminium has taken center stage, particularly for key elements like:

Windows and Doors: Aluminium frames are robust, corrosion-resistant, and can withstand Kerala’s humid climate, making them ideal for coastal regions like Kollam.

Modular Kitchens: Offering both style and substance, aluminium provides a modern, clean look while being resistant to the heat and moisture typical in kitchens.

Variety Aluminium Traderz, known for its premium aluminium fabrication Kollam, has established itself as a go-to solution for homeowners. They combine high-quality materials with professional expertise, delivering both residential and commercial projects with precision.

Aluminium Composite Panels (ACP): A Modern Marvel for Interiors and Exteriors

In addition to aluminium, ACP (Aluminium Composite Panels) has gained popularity in Kollam, especially for cladding and exterior design. The sleek, modern finish ACP provides is not just aesthetically pleasing but also highly practical:

Low Maintenance: ACP requires minimal upkeep, making it a durable and efficient solution for long-term use.

Versatile Use: While commonly used for exteriors, ACP is equally impressive when used for interior design, offering a modern look that blends seamlessly with other materials.

Variety Aluminium Traderz incorporates ACP into both interior and exterior projects, enhancing the structural and visual appeal of spaces. Whether it’s adding a contemporary touch to a home’s façade or creating sophisticated interiors, ACP is a material that perfectly balances form and function.

Blending Materials for Harmonious Spaces

In Kollam, a well-rounded interior often involves more than one material. Designers and fabricators like Variety Aluminium Traderz masterfully blend aluminium with other materials such as wood, glass, and stone. This mix creates a harmonious space that marries the warmth of traditional elements with the sleekness of modern design.

Wood and Aluminium: The combination of warm, natural wood with the cool, clean lines of aluminium creates visually balanced interiors that feel both inviting and stylish.

Glass and Aluminium: For spaces that need more light and openness, the transparent elegance of glass paired with the structure of aluminium frames can transform rooms into airy, modern havens.

Variety Aluminium Traderz excels at these combinations, crafting interiors that are not only beautiful but also functional and durable.

The Expertise of Variety Aluminium Traderz

With over two decades of experience, Variety Aluminium Traderz has become a trusted name in Kollam and across Kerala for both aluminium fabrication and comprehensive interior design solutions. Their ability to balance quality, affordability, and cutting-edge design makes them the preferred choice for homeowners and commercial clients alike.

The company’s expertise extends beyond aluminium. Their approach to interior design is holistic, incorporating a range of materials to deliver custom, client-focused solutions. Whether you’re looking for:

interior designers in Kollam Kerala: Focused on blending modern trends with personal preferences.

home interior designers in Kochi: Offering tailored solutions that reflect the latest in design while keeping functionality at the forefront.

Variety Aluminium Traderz ensures every project is a seamless integration of aesthetics and practicality, delivering results that stand the test of time.

Why Choose Aluminium for Your Next Project?

Aluminium and ACP are increasingly seen as materials that provide:

Durability: Resistant to rust, corrosion, and wear, aluminium is ideal for long-term use, especially in Kerala’s coastal regions.

Affordability: Compared to other materials, aluminium offers excellent value for money without compromising on quality.

Sustainability: Aluminium is a recyclable material, making it a more eco-friendly option for conscious homeowners.

Modern Appeal: With its sleek lines and contemporary finish, aluminium gives homes a modern edge while remaining highly functional.

Conclusion

As the demand for durable, stylish, and cost-effective interior solutions grows in Kerala, particularly in Kollam, Variety Aluminium Traderz continues to lead the way. Their innovative use of aluminium fabrication, coupled with an expert understanding of other materials, has made them a top choice for interior and exterior projects across the state.

Whether you’re in need of modern modular kitchens, stylish windows and doors, or ACP cladding that offers both aesthetic and functional benefits, Variety Aluminium Traderz ensures your home or business space meets the highest standards of design and durability.

In an industry where trends shift but quality is always in demand, Variety Aluminium Traderz provides the perfect balance between tradition and modernity, making them the trusted name in interior design and aluminium fabrication in Kollam.

[qualitystoneveener]

Transforming Your Space with Stacked Stone: A Timeless Design Element

Stacked stone is a versatile and visually striking material that has become increasingly popular in both interior and exterior design. Known for its natural beauty, durability, and unique texture, stacked stone can instantly elevate the aesthetic of any space. Whether you're revamping a fireplace, enhancing a garden wall, or creating a stunning accent wall in your living room, stacked stone offers endless possibilities.

In this blog, we'll explore the various ways stacked stone can be incorporated into your home and why it remains a top choice for homeowners and designers alike.

1. What is Stacked Stone?

Stacked stone refers to thin-cut natural stone pieces arranged in a layered or "stacked" pattern. These stones come in a variety of colors, sizes, and textures, giving you plenty of options to match your personal style. Whether it’s sleek and modern or rustic and rugged, stacked stone can fit into any design scheme.

2. Popular Applications for Stacked Stone

Here are some of the most popular ways stacked stone is used in homes:

Fireplace Surrounds: A stacked stone fireplace creates a warm, inviting focal point in any room. The natural textures and tones of the stone bring a cozy, earthy feel to your living space.

Accent Walls: An interior stacked stone wall adds drama and depth to a room. Whether in a bedroom, dining area, or foyer, it draws attention and adds character.

Exterior Façades: Using stacked stone for the exterior of your home adds a luxurious, high-end look while offering long-lasting durability. It's also low-maintenance and can withstand various weather conditions.

Outdoor Kitchens and Barbecues: Stacked stone is a perfect match for outdoor spaces. An outdoor kitchen, grill station, or seating area designed with stacked stone instantly enhances the outdoor living experience, making it more stylish and functional.

3. Why Choose Stacked Stone?

Here are a few reasons why stacked stone continues to be a popular choice:

Natural Elegance: No two pieces of stone are exactly alike, giving your home a one-of-a-kind look. The natural beauty of stone brings a sense of luxury and timelessness that few other materials can achieve.

Durability: Stacked stone is highly resistant to weathering, making it an excellent choice for both interior and exterior applications. It’s also less prone to damage than other materials.

Easy Maintenance: Once installed, stacked stone requires minimal maintenance. A simple cleaning every now and then is enough to keep it looking fresh and beautiful.

Eco-Friendly: Stacked stone is a natural material, making it an environmentally friendly option. Using stone in your design is a sustainable choice that contributes to green building practices.

4. Tips for Incorporating Stacked Stone in Your Design

Blend with Other Materials: Stacked stone pairs beautifully with wood, metal, glass, and concrete. Mixing materials adds contrast and visual interest, ensuring your design feels modern and balanced.

Light it Up: Highlight the texture of stacked stone with strategic lighting. Whether it's recessed lighting for a dramatic accent wall or exterior lighting for a garden feature, illumination enhances the beauty of the stone's surface.

Consider Color and Texture: With so many varieties available, it’s important to choose the right color and texture for your space. Lighter tones of stacked stone create an airy, modern feel, while darker stones offer a more rustic and cozy ambiance.

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DLF Camellias, Gurgaon: A Jewel in Luxury Living

Introduction

Gurgaon, now officially known as Gurugram, is a thriving metropolis that has rapidly become one of India’s most sought-after real estate markets. From towering skyscrapers to lush green spaces, Gurgaon offers a unique blend of luxury and practicality. This article delves into some of the most prestigious residential projects in Gurgaon, including the illustrious DLF Camellias, the latest new and upcoming projects, and the much-coveted DLF Exclusive Floors in DLF Phase 5, Sector 53.

Overview

Location Advantage: Sector 42, Golf Course Road

DLF Camellias is strategically located in Sector 42 on the Golf Course Road, one of Gurgaon’s most premium areas. This location offers excellent connectivity to key parts of the city and the Delhi NCR region. The Golf Course Road itself is a hub of luxury, with top-notch infrastructure, including malls, business parks, and elite schools.

Architectural Excellence and Design

DLF Camellias stands as a beacon of architectural brilliance. The design is not just about aesthetics; it’s about creating a living space that exudes luxury and comfort. The project features a mix of ultra-luxury apartments and penthouses, each designed to offer expansive views of the lush green surroundings and the cityscape. The building's façade, made of high-quality materials, is designed to stand the test of time.

Types of Residences Available

At DLF Camellias, the residences range from 7,196 to over 16,000 square feet. These include spacious 4, 5, and 6 BHK apartments and penthouses, all designed with high ceilings, large balconies, and state-of-the-art fittings. The interiors are crafted with the finest materials, ensuring that every home is a masterpiece.

Amenities and Facilities

Living at DLF Camellias is like residing in a 5-star resort. The project offers a wide array of amenities, including a world-class clubhouse, swimming pools, spa, gymnasium, and sports facilities. There are also dedicated areas for yoga, meditation, and recreational activities. The project places a strong emphasis on privacy and security, making it an ideal choice for those seeking an exclusive lifestyle.

Pricing and Investment Potential

DLF Camellias is priced at the upper end of the luxury market, with apartments starting from several crores. However, the investment potential is significant, given the project’s location, brand value, and the growing demand for ultra-luxury residences in Gurgaon. Investors can expect strong returns, both in terms of rental income and property value appreciation.

Resident Experience and Community Living

One of the key attractions of DLF Camellias is the community it fosters. The residents here are like-minded individuals who value privacy, luxury, and quality of life. The project is designed to encourage community interaction while offering spaces for individual peace and tranquility.

Conclusion

Gurgaon’s real estate market offers a diverse range of options, from ultra-luxury residences like DLF Camellias. Whether you’re looking for a high-end community lifestyle or a private and exclusive living experience, Gurgaon has something to offer. As the city continues to grow and develop, investing in its real estate market promises significant returns.

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Top 5 Modern Facade Lighting Ideas for an Impressive Look

The first total impression of any house is the exterior—actually, this facade. Modern facade lighting ideas can not only enhance its atmosphere and allure but, moreover, make it all the more attractive.

There are many types of lighting options now available on the market to decorate Modern House Facade, which not only make the house more beautiful and safer but also bring people comfort. So let us learn here some of the of the top 5 modern exterior lighting designs.

Combination of uplighting and downlighting

The proper mix of uplighting and downlighting can make the façade of your house take on a whole new aspect. Uplights can highlight the height of architecture and outside structural elements, and downlights to offer soft as well as gentle light that cascades downward in most cases. Using this combination, the house's exterior appears even more spacious and luxurious.

Use of LED Strip Lights

LED strip lights are a modern choice for Modern House Facade. You can use them on the exterior walls of the house, on the edges of roofs or in combination with the special architecture of your house. The flexibility and long life of LED strip lights make them ideal materials for facades. Moreover, because you can get them in different colours, the look of your house becomes even more charming.

Use of Wall Sconce Lights

Wall sconce lights are a classic modern lighting choice that makes the facade of your house look stylish. You can install these lamps near the front door of your house, by window openings, or on exterior walls. The design and lighting layout of wall sconce lamps match your house's architecture so that the outside of the house looks even more attractive.

Use of landscape lighting

If you have a garden or lawn in front of the house, you can further beautify the facade by using landscape lighting. By placing small lights around shrubs, trees, and flowers, you'll get a lovely and natural look. Landscape lighting gives a soft and romantic aspect to your house, making the clean white house look even more gorgeous at night.

Lighting contemporary designs

To give the façade a modern and innovative look, you can use lights with contemporary designs. These lights are specially designed for those houses that follow the latest trends in modern architecture and lighting. They have minimalistic designs combined with high-tech functions, because of which they give the house a unique identity.

Conclusion

In summary, With modern facade lighting ideas, you can give your house a new and attractive look. Proper lighting will render your Abode more beautiful as well as safer.

First impressions matter, especially for your home. At Hotspace Consultants, we craft stunning facade designs that capture the essence of modern living. Whether you're renovating or building new, our expert team will create a front design that reflects your personality and enhances your home's architecture. Ready to make a statement?