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alltheworldsinmyhead · 3 months ago

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Summary:

Inej decides to teach Kaz a thing or two about work ethic

Or: Kaz is abhorrently Kerch and Inej won't have it

read on ao3

To her great displeasure but no surprise whatsoever, Inej wakes up alone.

In a vast expanse of the bed, she sleepily pries her eyes open, squinting at the harsh sunlight, only to find no trace of her husband. The other side of the mattress is cold to the touch, the pillow nice and fluffed, the edges of the comforter tucked underneath the bed frame to keep it flat. While she is tangled in messed-up sheets, cotton smooth and warm against her bare legs and stray hairs clinging to her cheeks.

She would very much like to linger some more. Maybe do more than just linger - the bed is very nice and she is feeling very indulgent and lazy. But apparently, Kaz decided to be annoyingly Kerch this morning.

With a grumble, she slips from underneath the covers, sliding onto the floor and reaching for her dressing robe. In the mirror, her reflection blinks at her; she spares it just a glance, busy with undoing her braid but then her eyes come back for a double take. There is a dark bruise of a love bite blooming on her neck, right underneath her ear. It makes her feel hot and clammy in her own skin, to look at it.

She traces it lightly, with her very fingertips, and the smallest of shivers runs down her spine.

Some sounds are coming from the parlor adjacent to the bedroom and she pays a bit more attention to them now, cataloging them one by one. A faint scratch of a pen nib against the paper. A slight clatter of porcelain. A muffled cough. She thought Kaz went out on business, or to his office possibly - but, evidently, he's still right here, behind the door. Left her to have a lie-in while he's doing his work, because duty before pleasure, always.

She smiles at the thought. But aren't marital duties the most important ones of all?

She decides to stay in her nightgown. Decides not to tie her robe at the waist either; it is pretty blue, like the sky in the countryside, like little meadow flowers that Kaz, in an uncharacteristic bout of sentimentalism, once sent her pressed between the pages of his letter. She tilts her head just slightly and the garment slips, silk sliding down her skin like water and exposing the curve of her shoulder.

She lets it be as well.

The carpet is rich, thick underneath her bare feet; the air smells of flowers and wood polish. Not home, but nice. Very nice. She dares even say fancy. A fancy, upscale hotel room in a fancy part of Ketterdam where they had dinner the night before and then decided to book a room.

Just another of these little luxuries Kaz showers her with when she's back from the sea, hoping, possibly, to entice her to stay longer and longer. He thinks he's being sneaky when he's transparent like glass and she indulges him in his efforts. But it's all so silly, really. There is only one luxury that can manage to keep Inej ashore and it is right behind the door - the door that she opens soundlessly into another sunny room wallpapered in cream and filled with elegant furniture of cherry oak. There is a chaise lounge, a small table with a vase of red tulips on it. An armchair with some strategically placed fluffy pillows.

And, of course, a round breakfast table, set with two plates, two porcelain cups. Two platters of food, one empty save for some crumbs and one hidden underneath a metal cover, to keep it warm. And there’s her husband, already dressed sharp in his suit and tie and with his hair neatly slicked back at eight in the morning, writing something on pages neatly laid out in front of him, a cup of steaming coffee in his free hand.

His eyes find her seconds after she steps into the room, sliding over her body absent-mindedly before they lock with hers.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, one corner of his mouth rising just slightly when she crosses the floor towards him.

He's already clean shaved and she tries not to make a face at that. She decides to make her displeasure known through not leaning down to kiss him. Instead, she drops on her chair and reaches for the teapot.

“Yes,” she pours in the tea, then adds some milk from a charming porcelain creamer. Swirls the spoon inside the cup and then licks it clean. “Did you?”

Kaz taps his pen against the wood. “Yes.”

“Good,” she smiles. Stretches her legs out underneath the table, feeling how her nightgown slips up. The table is small: he must feel the warmth of her, the proximity of her, like a phantom touch. “What are you writing?”

***read more on ao3***

#kanej #kanej fic #kanej fanfiction #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #soc #soc fic #soc fanfiction

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silvanoir · 1 month ago

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brown eras

I saw a post about how TV shows/movies SET in the 80s (but not made in the 80s) don't show just how very brown the era was. and true! True to the people who replied that most of the brown was leftover from the 70s (a widely acknowledged earthtone era) and not everyone runs out to redecorate. But also as someone born in the 80s who perused many a JC Penny and Sears catalog, not enough is said about how much dark brown wood furniture there was. And the prevalence of grey (many grey suits, many grey offices, but at least offset with aqua and pink... grey has made a comeback without the accent colors, a shame)

Or how very TAN the 90s and 00's were. Tan couches, tan rugs, khaki pants... and all the decorating shows in the 00s emphasized how tans and creams were neutral colors you want to paint/redecorate with to sell your house. And the 90s honey-ish stained and glazed fake wood cheap furniture.

#the 80s #the 90s #the 00s

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dairy-farmer · 1 year ago

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Family doctor Bruce who’s been fucking Tim for years, ever since his orients stopped coming to his check ups.

He’d get the regularly, no adult supervision, and Bruce would press him over the bed, his legs dangling off the side, and pound into his tight little pussy and press deep while he cums.

Little preteen Timmy is pregnant before his first period

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!BRUCE FOLLOWING IN HIS DAD'S FOOTSTEPS AND BECOMING A DOCTOR!!!! not a surgeon like his dad because bruce was never one who ever felt comfortable or reveled in blood and gore. and if bruce was being honest...he did have a bit of a sensitive stomach. he had one ever since he was a kid and it just...it just never quite went away not even when his ambitions became too big to contain. family practice puts bruce in a unique position to help.

it would allow him to help people who come through with bruises from "slipping in the shower", people with bloodshot eyes and tremors and asking about pain medication for their recent "fall", and teenagers in vulnerable points in their lives and confused about what's happening with their bodies.

bruce had worked hard to open up his own family practice. dr. thompkins had helped him out, guiding him through all the careful processes and allowing bruce to shadow and follow her around at her small crime alley clinic.

bruce couldn't deviate too much from his "brucie" persona when setting up his clinic and as he set up a family practice office in a more affluent part of gotham despite areas like park row desperately needing more physicians, bruce reminded himself that at least he was still doing good.

doctors were invaluable to society and the first to notice when something wasn't right in the family dynamics.

take for instance the drakes. janet and jack, like many of the wealthy of the area, had switched to bruce being their family physician despite hardly ever being in the city. the one drake who did see bruce the recommended amount of times a year (once for a physical and then 3-4 times through the year for various sickness, weather, and allergy-related reasons) was young timothy drake who, to date, had been bruce's youngest patient. there were plenty of pediatricians in the area but sweet timothy had insisted on bruce being his doctor. he was the reason bruce kept a little jar of lollipops by the front desk and why he had variously assorted superhero band-aids for when blood needed to be drawn or to bandage various scrapes and boo boos.

unlike the rest of his patients that came through his office, bruce didn't want to cut his own ears off during their appointments. timothy was a sweet young dear of a child. he giggled at bruce's jokes and did his best to do well on his physicals and unlike some of the teenager bruce saw, he wasn't moody or angry or resistant to bruce trying to help them when they'd roll their eyes at his lectures about drugs and sex.

tim wasn't like that. tim listened avidly to everything bruce had to say, watching with big eyes with the diagrams bruce would show him of the various parts of the human body. tim was a captivated audience and would even ask questions like what this or that medical device was for. before jack and janet had stopped accompanying tim they'd shush him and tell him not to bother 'dr.wayne'.

tim was a sweet child.

he was nothing like bruce's other snooty patients or the awkward and angry clientele from when he worked with dr. thompson.

dick never liked accompanying bruce to his office but since tim lived barely a block away in one of the apartment complexes that meant a little dark-haired and blue eyed boy still ran around his clinic and...something about the sight tugged at bruce's insides. when bruce had been little he'd accompany his father to the hospital. he'd color on empty charts and bounce on the stiff, leather therapy couches or build forts with the catalog furniture in some of the grief rooms.

timothy's nanny never cared to notice when he'd disappear from her care and bruce could do nothing but send another email to the drakes that would go unanswered and allow tim to play in his office and the various empty examination rooms. empty. because a lot of the affluent families that made bruce their family physician had just done it for appearances and rarely ever utilized his services. most of them continued seeing their old primary care physicians because no one in their "right mind" would ever entrust their family's health to bruce wayne's hands.

so bruce was stuck in a medical office that hardly ever saw patients and most days he considered just...going back to leslie and hoping his years of schooling could be utilized elsewhere.

not that bruce was allowing himself to get rusty. tim was a very willing patient. his favorite game was playing doctor with bruce. where bruce would perform a physical on tim by doing things like testing his reflexes, listening to his heart, and checking tim's throat while he opened his mouth and said 'aaah!'.

bruce had spent half a fortune outfitting his office with every possible medical tool he may need to perform through medical evaluations including one meant for pregnant and expecting mothers and young women. tim managed to find the room while ducking around for somewhere to hide when he and bruce played hide and seek.

bruce ended up finding tim curiously holding up a speculum and peeking through it to see.

tim truly was a brilliant little child. curious too.

he asks bruce about it and the various tools around like the ultrasound machine sitting uselessly in the corner. it's never even been plugged in and bruce had specifically trained for because....because he was awaiting the day he'd congratulate a young mother on her pregnancy.

bruce tells him about how these are all tools he uses to help people feel better, showing tim how the examination table in this room had stirrups for people to rest their feet so he could sit at the end and check what needed to be checked.

tim's eyes grew big and he held the speculum in both hands as he followed bruce around like a shadow watching with bug eyed curiosity as bruce plugged in the ultrasound and showed him the gel that accompanied him.

bruce knows that that he probably shouldn't have allowed it but...something about having tim around and bobbing around the office like bruce had done when he was little just made it...hard for bruce to tell him no.

before long tim's clothes are off, including underwear and he's wearing a too big white paper gown that makes him look like a child wearing a wedding dress. the thought has something in the back of bruce's head flickering but he ignores it as tim climbs up onto the table and rests his little legs into stirrups that have him spreading open and exposing himself to bruce who suddenly feels like his throat is painfully dry.

tim's little baby cunt is bare and pink, growing redder and pinker the deeper inside you looked. the lips were puffy and velvety soft, bruce gently dragged the pads of his fingers against them watching, fascinated, as tim jumped and his insides clenched with surprise at bruce's touch.

bruce was seated in a rolling chair directly in front of tim's open legs, a quiet part of bruce's brain was telling him that he needs exam gloves, that hygeine hygeine hygeine and he couldn't go around examining patients without them but.... this wasn't really an examination. bruce was just...playing. he and tim were playing doctor so it was okay if bruce didn't put in those sterile gloves.

bruce let two fingers gently stroke the sides of tim's little kiddie cunt, trying to ignore the trembling of his entire arm as he pushed his glasses further up his nose and gently...pressed his fingers against and....spread tim open more.

"h-here-" bruce cleared his throat, "here we can see that your....your-"

"my kitty?" tim asked curiously, staring at him and letting his head dangle off the side of the examination table.

bruce pressed his lips together, biting back the anatomically correct term to correct tim because it was important tim knew these things in case any perverts ever preyed on him- it would make it easer for lawyers and police to understand when tim ran to them and cried that someone touched his kitty on the playground, they would think 'oh some brat lost their cat' and not 'oh some brat went and got himself fingered at the park'.

but bruce doesn't say that. his eyes drift back to the little, pink baby clit sticking out from under the clitoral hood- exactly like bruce's old anatomy textbooks in medical school. he swallows and reaches for the coldly labeled tube of lube and the duck-billed speculum in the other. with one finger bruce snaps open the cap and squirts a thick glob along the body of it. it's....big. too big to probably fit into tim's little hole that's maybe the size of bruce's nail.

"this is your hole" bruce tells tim, poking the tip of a finger in, still wet with a little lube. tim tightens around the tip. bruce swallows the sudden thickness in his throat.

it's slow. the examination. the speculum won't fit until tim is...looser. tim asks bruce how he can loosen his kitty and bruce launches on a short lecture about massaging the area, inserting a finger- then two and working your way up, and that even orgasms can help relax the muscles of the hole-

"what's an orgasm?" tim asks innocently, sweet eyes slightly cloudy as bruce continues working a single singer into his baby hole. bruce takes a shuddering breath.

tim is much looser after his first orgasm. to bruce's immense pleasure tim didn't squirm much, only whimpering and arching his hips off the exam table and pressing down on the stirrups as bruce rubbed at tim's little clit with a middle finger. bruce watched as tim's pussy grew shiny with his organic slick and release drooled out of tim, pooling up in his hole and running out in a small gush when tim clenched his hole around nothing. bruce didn't allow the droplets to hit his floor and instead wiped the clear streak running down tim's ass with the cold speculum before pressing the tip into tim's suddenly looser opening.

it's still a challenge getting it in. bruce can only work about an inch in before it gets tight again. when bruce tells tim that tim is panting and there are tears in his eyes and he asks bruce is this means he should orgasm again.

bruce has never used a speculum on a patient before but he's pretty sure he's not supposed to rock it in and out of the hole it's in like it's a dildo. tim doesn't seem to mind. but after the second orgasm bruce rubbed out of him he seemed to mostly be going in and out of consciousness. bruce thinks tim falls asleep when he finally gets it all the way in.

bruce takes a moment to ignore tim's little hole, shining a penlight in to see tim's pink insides. he's about five inches deep and can see the beginnings of his cervix with a little hole in the middle like a doughnut, the entrance to...to his womb. it'll be many years before tim gets his first period and bleeds for the first time, telling bruce that his little womb was ready to be home to a baby.

bruce swallows back his saliva at the thought.

bruce has his fun and tugs the speculum out when finished. tim's hole is bigger than when they started, more the size of a quarter from the stretching it had done. bruce is able to sink his middle finger all the way in with barely a flinch from tim who is blinking slowly like he's in a daze. bruce knows that pelvic exams aren't easy, especially on first timers so to thank tim for his bravery- bruce gently rests his thumb against tim's twitching clit and rubs out a slow, gentle orgasm until tim is whining and trembling under him.

tim is tired by the time they're finished. bruce has to help him dress before waving him back home where his nanny is probably still passed out drunk in the apartment.

bruce locks the door when tim's form disappears down the hall and hastily pushes down his slack to release the painful erection he'd gotten at one point. bruce's hand is wet from some medical lube but mostly from tim's release. but bruce doesn't think about that as he pumps his red cock and bites back groans about tim's stretched out baby cunt.

the next day tim returns just as bouncy and eager as he did the day before. once again bruce has no patients aside from him. bruce hasn't had a scheduled appointment in months.

bruce is barely able to greet tim as he opens the door before he's darting off to the exam room. when bruce arrives, tim's little shorts and underwear are off and he's climbing bare butt onto the exam table and lifting his legs onto the stirrups.

"i need another checkup!" tim sweetly insists, cheeks red with that blush that's always on him and breathing slightly hard. his sweater vest is still on along with his little velcro sneakers and lacy socks dangling in the air. tim's pussy is still as pretty as the day before but....redder.

bruce can see how tim's baby clit is practically pulsing. his slit is shiny and sticky as bruce spreads open the lips and runs reverent fingers down the edge. tim inches closer, pushing his butt to the edge of the table and looking at bruce with big, earnest eyes.

bruce thumbs softly at tim's clit, watching his shivers with critical eyes as he asks in his 'doctor voice' "what seems to be the problem?"

tim is already rocking his hips against the motion, eyes going half lidded and distracted as he shakily breathes.

bruce stops playing with tim's clit and raises a brow at the whine he receives.

"doctors can't help you if you don't tell them what's wrong," bruce tells tim sagely. "like if you're throwing up and sick, or hurting, or itchy-"

"i'm itchy!" tim insists immediatly. "i'm itchy, i swear! i-it's just...i didn't know how much i needed it scratched until yesterday b-but i'm so itchy dr. bruce! please dr. bruce i'm itchy!"

tim is practically crawling into bruce's lap from how desperately he's offering his baby cunt to him. bruce needs to keep ignoring the fire steadily burning in his gut.

bruce's cock aches so fucking bad.

and...and the speculum is in the autoclave. bruce hadn't taken it out after putting it in to sanitize it for later use...

but...tim was itchy now. not much bruce could do about it.

but. bruce was a doctor. it was his job to find solutions to people's health problems. tim had already gotten used to the initial stretch and he'd orgasmed more with something inside of him so....maybe it would be better to recreate circumstances using the tools he had.

"okay, tim....i can help you but...it's going to be a bit different from yesterday, alright?"

tim practically sobs a yes.

bruce unzips his pants with his free hand, the one not pressing down on tim's throbbing clit. he pushes his slacks down to mid thigh and stands up from his seat, pushing his underwear down enough to free his cock that practically springs from its confines.

tim is young. a kid. a sweet kid. a sweet kid that hasn't gotten his period yet.

bruce presses the hot, wet cock head to tim's sloppy, wet slit and bites down on his lip as he meets warm cunt. gently, bruce thrusts his hips, sliding his cock along tim's warm slit and coating his cock nicely in frothy, sticky tim slick.

bruce fumbles for the lube from the day before in one of the storage cabinets of the table. he squirts more than he means to and most of it drips to the floor. bruce doesn't care and drops the entire tube somewhere off to the side. he hears it 'clatter' but is too focused on hastily stroking himself and watching as the mushroom-shaped head of his cock eases into a baby dole clenching tight around him.

it doesn't take as long as it did the day before.

bruce roughly rubs tim's clit and rocks into him with every clench of his abdominals, sinking deeper and deeper until he's bent over and groaning at the hot vice of the pussy stretched around him. bruce swears he could die happy inside tim as he inches closer until there's no cock to give. it's a tight fit, bruce's cock is getting the life squeezed out of it really and he can't really thrust, only rock back and forth into virgin insides. the slide is eased by the lube and the second orgasm that rips through tim's body. tim is gasping and twitching under him, bruce grips the underside of tim's thighs and nearly bends him in half in order to feel more of tim's warmth around him. he stays like that, rocking and sawing and increasing in speed until he's grunting and growing at the build-up in his balls.

the release is deep and hot and tim makes some sweetly confused sound as bruce fucks and cums deep enough that the initial jolt of cum had to have shot some release into the little opening of the cervix bruce has seen the day before.

the stirrups make fucking tim a little difficult so bruce picks up a weak limbed tim, still attached to bruce's cock, and carries him over to his office where there's a nice soft couch bruce uses to catch up on the sleep he misses out on at night.

tim softly whines but makes humming noises when bruce rests his back onto the plush, warm leather cushions.

bruce keeps his cock plugged in because if he knows himself, he'll be ready to go again in just a few minutes. tim's forehead is a little sweaty and bruce brushes the locks back before drifting the hand down and pushing up tim's sweater vest to expose his pink nipples and little breasts. tenderly, bruce presses a gentle kiss to them before letting his mouth fall on tim's who opened it to ask "why did you do tha-mmph"

slowly, by rocking into the hot, wet mess inside tim's little pussy, bruce felt himself start to get hard again.

this time he didn't rock and try get off with tim's wet walls clenching around him. bruce spread tim's thighs further apart, took a breath, and fucked the little cunt around his cock.

he didn't inch his way in or saw back and forth. he pounded the little pussy until tim was arching and gasping and letting out incomprehensible noises because every thrust dragged against tim's little clit. bruce didn't touch tim's clit until his mouth was open and he was chasing after the warm clenching feeling in his balls that led to him spilling a hot fat load into baby pussy.

tim's hands were on either side of his head. his eyes closed as he sweetly moaned into bruce's ear and let him fuck his little hole until it was tingling and sore.

tim was a good patient and allowed bruce to keep going, even shifting their positions and laying on his back while tim sprawled on his chest and panted with bruce's soft cock tucked inside him. bruce couldn't go too hard. not unless he wanted tim stumbling all the way back home. so after the second one bruce pulls out and kneels between tim's legs. he laps up the mess and kisses and sucks on tim's clit until he's exhaustedly pushing on bruce's head.

the next day bruce is waiting by the door for tim. they don't even make it to any of the rooms. good thing bruce choose carpet for the waiting room. tim is wearing a little skirt and when bruce pushes it up he finds no underwear waiting for him.

bruce's cock was ready and tim was warm and leaking from anticipation.

bruce fucks tim roughly on the floor of his waiting room, cupping the back of his head with his palms so it doesn't bang on the floor and hurt as bruce hoists tim's little legs over his shoulders and fucks him hard and fast.

tim loves their new game of how they play doctor, almost as much as bruce does.

bruce fucks tim in nearly every room of his clinic, almost always ending it in his office where tim's ass hangs off the edge of the couch and bruce pounds into his cunt to his hearts content until he's spilling deep and painting that little womb white. sometimes tim returns home with a bulge in his tummy from all the warm cum bruce fills him with. bruce never thinks about it.

until one day tim arrives looking...a little rounder in the middle. childhood chubbiness is common and bruce sees no reason to worry about it and fucks tim like normal. there's a persists pudge in the front of him and bruce is staring at it one day as he's sinking his cock into a moaning tim when he realizes...it's right where tim's womb would be.

bruce would know if tim had his period. he's been fucking little timmy for months and he'd know. not only would he notice but tim would tell him.

but...bruce had learned something in medical school. about how...technically it was possible for someone to get pregnant before having menstruation. because young people could still ovulate.

and if little timothy drake ovulated and bruce had been fucking him without protection.....

there was no way to tell how far along tim was. he was already so small so any bulging ends were clearly visible. still, bruce pulled out the old ultrasound he never got around to using.

tim is pawing at bruce's clothing and asking what's going on as bruce lays him down and searches around for the aquasonic that's never been opened much less used. he squirts some onto tim's lower belly and presses the transducer to where that little bump is barely showing and-

bruce stares. he stares at the little gray blob that keeps flickering on the screen until he adjusts his hand and glides the transducer to different angles until he realizes....no, that is exactly what he thinks it is and...and bruce can't stop the words even if he wanted to.

he turns to tim who's trying to arch his head in a way that will let him look at what bruce is doing until he realizes bruce is staring at him.

tim blinks big, innocent doe eyes at him and bruce-

"congratulations." he croaks out almost like a robot. "you're pregnant."

with a baby. with bruce's baby.

tim stares at him like an owl. he blinks.

"what does 'pregnant' mean?"

bruce's laugh comes out wheezy and out of breath, almost choked.

oh fuck.

what has he done.

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

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lady-illyria-the-magi · 8 days ago

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4.11.2024

I've felt pretty odd the past days, realizing the move is happening really soon. Also it makes me terrified money wise, i'm leaving my current apartment so soon that i will not be getting my deposit back. Then paying the deposit for the new apartment. And paying two rents because the move is mid-month.

I gotta get the academic machine going again. Also i should see if there's any fun clubs or organizations in the new uni. I need to meet new people. Any people. I will know no one when i move there.

And see what courses i can take, i need to do that. This week i will be going there to get the keys and check the apartment, and bring the most crucial essentials in a suitcase, sleeping bag, trekking mattress, one pot, one mug.. and so on. It's just one night visit bc it's almost impossible to get to the keys office before 14.00, when driving takes 6h and we gotta clean and pack up on that morning too.

Today's plans

actually see what courses you can take, it's fun to look at the catalog

try to calm down, i know this is mentally draining and blabla but i can do this

read "elo ja anergia", it's posthumanist philosophy, and really interesting

When i see the room on thursday i also must remember to measure it. I should not be having problems, i've always lived with few furniture but lots of clothes and books. And my kitchen stuff will be in the shared kitchen, minus my teapot and few favourite mugs and one plate that i do not let around my roommate. Just in case. Idk what kind of person she is gonna be, i just know there's gonna be another student girl and we will be sharing the kitchen and the bathroom.

#university student #literature student #university #uni student #studyblr #literature analysis #academia #studying #studyblog #phdblr #phdjourney #phd life #phd student #literature major #postuhmanist philosophy #posthumanism #chaotic academia #moving

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nine-figures-decor · 4 months ago

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Best Furniture Manufacturer in Varanasi - Nine Figures Decor

When it comes to furnishing your home or office, choosing the right furniture manufacturer is crucial. Quality furniture enhances the aesthetic appeal of your space, provides comfort, and stands the test of time.

As a leading furniture manufacturer in Varanasi, Nine Figures Decor takes pride in offering top-notch furniture pieces that combine style, durability, and functionality.

Why Choose Nine Figures Decor as the best furniture manufacturer in Varanasi?

1. Superior Craftsmanship: At Nine Figures Decor, we believe that the foundation of exceptional furniture lies in superior craftsmanship. Our team of skilled artisans and craftsmen bring years of experience and expertise to every piece of furniture they create. From the selection of the finest raw materials to the meticulous attention to detail in the finishing touches, we ensure that every piece of furniture meets the highest standards of quality.

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3. Customization Options: We understand that every customer has unique preferences and requirements. That's why we offer customization options to tailor our furniture to your specific needs. From choosing the type of wood and upholstery to selecting the design and dimensions, you can personalize your furniture to match your vision perfectly. Our dedicated team works closely with you to bring your ideas to life, ensuring that your furniture is as unique as you are.

4. Sustainable Practices: At Nine Figures Decor, we are committed to sustainability and eco-friendly practices. We source our raw materials responsibly and prioritize the use of sustainable wood and eco-friendly finishes. Our manufacturing processes are designed to minimize waste and reduce our environmental footprint. By choosing our furniture, you're not only investing in quality but also supporting a greener planet.

5. Unparalleled Customer Service: Customer satisfaction is at the heart of everything we do. From the moment you walk into our showroom or contact us, our friendly and knowledgeable staff are here to assist you every step of the way. We provide expert guidance to help you make informed decisions and offer after-sales support to ensure that you're completely satisfied with your purchase.

Conclusion: Visit Nine Figures Decor Today!

When it comes to finding the best furniture manufacturer in Varanasi, Nine Figures Decor stands out for its superior craftsmanship, wide range of products, customization options, sustainable practices, and unparalleled customer service. Our commitment to quality ensures that every piece of furniture we create enhances the beauty and comfort of your space while standing the test of time.

Visit Nine Figures Decor today to explore our exquisite collection of furniture and experience the difference that quality craftsmanship makes. Whether you’re furnishing your home or office, our team is here to help you find the perfect pieces to elevate your space. Discover why Nine Figures Decor is the trusted choice for furniture manufacturing in Varanasi.

#furniture #furniture manufacturer #furniture design #furniture manufacturer in varanasi

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hypahticklish · 4 months ago

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Catching up (Tag Game)

Its been such a long time since I've participated in one of these. Similar to some others, makin a new post to not have a super duper long one for folks to scroll through. Thank you both @august-anon and @tiklart for tagging me, and @otomiyaa for creating this!

❤️ Newest obsession:

I don't know if it really counts as newest but the TTRPG Shows/Podcast hyperfixation is still going strong. D20's Never Stop Blowing Up is criminally hysterical, WBN The Wizard, The Witch, and The Wild One is so incredible it's beyond words, bout to continue with NADDPod so Murphy can tear my heart out. Recently finished DnDaddies S2 and I think I'm an ep behind for TAZ vs Dracula...but is a good time to love TTRPGs

🎥 Last three movies I watched and what I thought of them:

IF was so much more thoughtful than I thought it was going to be when I entered the theatre. Literally silently cried for the majority of the movie.

The Fall Guy was so so so much fucking fun. Like, I was already excited for what looked like a popcorn muncher of a flick and was delightfully surprised to discover it was a sincere romcom with SICK stunts.

Abigail was surprisingly good. My partner wanted to check out the silly lookin vampire movie and we left having watched the most camp horror movie that's come out in ages (excluding Lisa Frankenstein which bonus review - loved)

🎶 Three songs I’ve discovered recently and loved:

Tom Cardy - Hey, I Don't Work Here

Anya Nami - Bread

Ke$ha - Joy Ride

💘 Newest Fav Ships:

Huh...i dont think I have a newest ship to even fave...

📺 Currently Watching:

D20's Never Stop Blowing Up (and basically the entire DropOut catalog)

📖 Currently Reading:

Does various dnd resources count?? 😅☠️ I do wanna start reading again but been a bit hectic over here

🎮 Currently Playing:

Again, do dnd resources count?? 😅☠️ I'm super excited for Monster Hunter Wilds and have tons of lil indie things on my to-play list

😍 Currently Looking Forward To:

My partner and I are going to Disneyland for a few days in September, and then come January we're gonna be there for the D20's Gauntlet at the Garden in NYC with @wordstrings (the best strings!)

✅️ Recently finished:

Paperwork for continuing with a new therapist, and receiving new office furniture for myself and kitty to refocus my life a bit 😅

💌 Something to share:

I have a crossover AU in the works of the TFB famous looper Gigglefritz meeting a one Evan Kelmp from D20 Misfits & Magic...because that sad sad boi deserves to laugh

Pressure-less taglist: @thebest-medicine, @dreamingticklee, @adeletho, @heckyeah-horseshoecrabs, @alittlespankandtickle

Copy Paste Blank under the cut

❤️ Newest obsession:

🎥 Last three movies I watched and what I thought of them:

🎶 Three songs I’ve discovered recently and loved:

💘 Newest Fav Ships:

📺 Currently Watching:

📖 Currently Reading:

🎮 Currently Playing:

😍 Currently Looking Forward To:

✅️ Recently finished:

💌 Something to share:

#Tag games #Ask games

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mwolf0epsilon · 2 years ago

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Exhale the Paint Fumes

Summary: Olly's spiraling smells a little like paint...

Recommended Song: Slow Walk

Canon Characters: Commander Fox, Clone Trooper Dogma, Sargent Hound, Grizzer the Massiff

Original Characters: Riot Trooper Olly Olly Oxenfree, Clone Trooper Lichtenberg Clone Trooper Pretty Boy, K9 Trooper Redacted, Communications Corrie Rhythm(@british-hero) Riot Trooper Red Alert(@british-hero), K9 Trooper Bumblebee(@british-hero), Clone Medic Remedy(@kkrazy256), Drift(@calamity-aims), Clone Medic Croissant(@gaeasun), Clone Medic Nocte(@purgetrooperfox).

[This story is heavily inspired by @calamity-aims 's fic "To Unexplain the Unforgivable", and @gaeasun 's fic "The Two Hundred". I would suggest giving those a read beforehand.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

Fox's office smells like fresh paint. The unpleasant smelling vapors cling to the walls, furniture and nostrils, even if the coat itself is not present on them. Because whenever the marshal commander of the Guard breaks out the paint, usually it's to add another name to his vambrace.

If Olly were the kind of clone to wax needless poetics, he'd likely akin both the scent and effects of the fumes to be what loss physically smelled and felt like. Seeing as he's no bard, and Fox is certainly no philosophical major, he never words such absurdity. There's just no point in trying to make a tragedy into art.

It was 200 this time...

200 names delicately etched on a piece of armour that had seen far too much in far too little time. 200 names that make the eyes water and the nose itch. 200 men erased and replaced like glitched software. 200 brothers that Olly has lost. That were stolen from Fox's attentive and caring hands because of something well outside of his control.

Neither of them speak. There really isn't any need for that. Not much either of them could say that would ease the pain or guilt, nor do they particularly feel like breaking the somber silence.

It's a minute of remembrance, honoring the not quite dead.

If Olly focuses hard enough he could almost hear the voices of the past. Each carefully caligraphed letter of a name so full of the impression of memories, that both gave him the drive to go on, and a newfound crack his already quite broken heart. A crack that threatens to finally shatter it into a million pieces.

He wonders what is going through Fox's mind as he completes his 109th name. What tormenting horrors poke and prod at his brain as he tries not to quake and quiver with each one he catalogs into somewhere so private and close. Probably the same kind of monsters that are gnawing at Olly's own gray matter. Monsters that remind him that he's lost everything and everyone to the cruelty of the galaxy. The indifference of Kamino, Coruscant and the GAR.

His unnamed ori'vode and vod'ika, spirited away by the demagolka that haunted his nightmares. Lich, lost and very likely devoured by the all-consuming shadows of Umbara's unending darkness. Pretty Boy, a traitorous defector that turned-tail and saved himself instead of coming back to help him grieve their brother. Rhythm, wiped clean like he was nothing more than a stubborn stain that needed to be removed from a fancy carpet.

Hell hath no fury like a vod who's got nothing left to lose. And yet... Olly can't bring himself to be angry anymore.

At least not right now.

156 names on a singular vambrace. Some older than the ones Fox has just added to the ever growing list. The other will no longer be bare. Each addition kills another piece of both of their souls.

Everyone knew riot troopers never got decommissioned nor reconditioned. There's no need because they're "mindless brutes". Why "fix" something that exists only to push back a crowd and deliver a violent beating? It would defeat the purpose of such a henously glamour-less position.

It also meant that those who'd endured the horrors of their hard to survive job, were left to sit around idly and helplessly watch their brothers be taken away from them. Sometimes never to return. Other times being brought back wrong and never the same.

Red Alert always told the Shiny Turtles not to get too attached, even if he himself failed to follow his own rule. Olly simply told them to hold on to the memories they'd made, and to look after the broken shells that came back from Kamino.

Not all of them took it well. It was hard on the heart. He'd caught so many kih'vode hanging from the drafters that at this point the idea of suicide within the barracks was not a novelty.

Telling Fox of these incidents always meant more paint smell. More fumes. More headaches. More stinging eyes and noses. More guilt, retching and dry-heaving over a dirty toilet bowl in some dingy establishment's bathroom.

Never a good idea to throw up in the Coruscant Guard barracks, their plumbing was and forever would be quite shitty.

Olly doesn't really know why he bothers to stick around to watch Fox whenever that happens. There's no point to him watching his commanding officer, his Guard ori'vod, adding the names to his armour.

It's not like the commander would ever dare to skip over a name.

Once, before Remedy got wiped that is, the bespectacled medic had suggested the methodical way Fox wrote the names might simply help the riot trooper to relax. Each line and curve forcing him to focus and take deeper even breaths.

Maybe he'd been right.

Time always seemed to slow down and make more sense when he sat by the marshal commander in these moments of sorrow.

200 names spread between two vambraces. Fox isn't bothering to conceal the hitch of his breath or the tears running down his face. Olly squeezes his shoulder once before leaving him to grieve in peace. Force gods only knew he was hanging by the fraying thread of what little dignity he still had remaining.

The veteran riot trooper refused to be the one to take that from him.

Olly's unofficial patrols start the moment he leaves the marshal commander's office. They're self-imposed. A personal mission he'd given himself the first time something like this had transpired. A way to reassure his weakened mind and broken heart, despite it doing exactly the opposite on most cases.

The outliers gave him hope. The hopeless causes took it away.

He takes a deep breath, inhales the "clean air" and the exhales the paint fumes he'd been breathing in all morning. Exhales his nerves and tries not to cough up a lung in the process. The stinging in his nasal cavity and throat are still there from the light chemical burns. And then he makes his way towards his various destinations.

His first stop is down in Storage where '22 can always be found.

Even after a full mind-scrub, Dogma's quirks hadn't quite left him. They likely never would, no matter how many times he got reconditioned, considering he'd always just been wired differently from the great majority of the rest of them. He still liked order and organization. Thrived doing inventory work.

He just doesn't respond the his old name anymore.

That's fine. He seems to like it when Olly calls him D22. Never asks why Olly walks in with his right first bandaged, just accepts the treat he forcefully pilfered from a vending machine that was located on one of the various blind-spots of Coruscant. The larger trooper used to hate stealing, now it was a necessity if he wanted to offer something his siblings were more inclined to eat.

'22 loved cupcakes just as much as Dogma. Olly can't bring back his kih'vod, but he can bring '22 a cupcake.

His second stop is the medbay, even if he hates going in there.

Seeing what used to be Remedy walking around with cropped hair and no glasses is very jarring. Not only to him but to the medics that hadn't been wiped yet. He could see it in Croissant's and Nocte's eyes whenever they thought he wasn't watching. Knew they feared what might befall them if the chancellor got upset at Fox anytime soon.

The CMO had always been a frowner, which hadn't changed. None of the reconned clones ever really smiled much.

8847 always zeroes in on his injured hand before anyone else could register the riot trooper's presence in the medbay. Before any of this happened, Olly would have shied away from his touch. Refusing to show weakness even to the kindly medics. A couple of glass shards in his hand were nothing compared with his full body pains after all.

Now he lets '47 do as he pleases with the injuries.

He's taken up whittling. He's pretty crap at it. Laughably so. There's always some shitty wooden figurine in one of his pouches to offer to the medic as a "gesture of gratitude" for the medical care. 8847 doesn't seem to understand why he gives them to him but, according to Nocte, he hasn't thrown any away.

Olly can't tell if he's just trying to be polite or if he's trying to figure out why anyone would make and keep tiny wooden trash. Sith-hells, maybe '47 is just trying to figure out what the hell any of the figurines are meant to be. The little tooka he'd tried to carve was so bad it kind of looked like a malformed star fighter.

His third stop is the kennels.

Olly is absolutely terrified of the massiffs kept there, but he forces himself to swallows his fear like a hard pill. He'd never really seen eye to eye with Hound, but he was still a vod. And he'd been Rhythm's friend. Now he didn't even seem to acknowledge the massiff he'd bonded with prior to being reconned. Something which registered with the creature, if the way it now behaved so sadly was anything to go by.

He'd taken a hard hit. That much was obvious from the way he looked at people and animals so vacantly. Olly mostly came to make sure he ate something at least once or twice per day. With shaky hands he also made sure to refill the bowls in the kennels, even though the movements of the caged little beasts made him recoil like he'd been burned.

The riot trooper was ashamed to admit he often didn't stick around to even have an attempted conversation with the K9 trooper. He left that up to Redacted who had taken on the majority of the work in the kennels since Hound and Bumblebee got wiped.

His fourth stop takes him straight to Drift.

6147 greets him stiffly as usual. He'd been an arc trooper once, and also one of very few vode that ever dared to spar with a turtle that stood at 6 feet tall and was as built as Alpha karking 17.

Everyone knew Olly's strength was abnormal. Alarmingly so.

Another factor which adds to his chronic aches. Human muscle was never meant to be used at the same capacity as a woolamander would use it. Adrenaline was thus the key to unlock such power. Olly had learned early on to control the lack of restraints Sulu Ra's serum had cursed him with, but he couldn't mend what the strain did to him. No one could.

He'd likely end up permanently disabled one day.

Despite the danger of real injury being an accidental likelihood of facing him on the mat, Drift had never feared him as an opponent in the slightest. Seemed fond of the challenge.

Drift had fought him like he'd fought any other brother. The ARC had even beat him on several occasions by being perceptive, quick and witty. Only one of those things hadn't left him. The lack of fear.

6147 hadn't beat him yet.

He was slower, less coordinated, less aware of his surroundings. Olly barely did much in their spars. Just let the vod burn the energy. Eventually the former ARC would just fall on his shebs on his own and listlessly sit there, seeming almost at a loss for why all of this felt wrong. It wasn't right to see him life this.

His stops took him everywhere around the Coruscant Guard HQ. Fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth... ...Two hundreth. His final stop was always Rhythm.

It was also the one that hurt him the most.

There was just nothing there. Nothing left of the clumsy but highly spirited vod'ika that reminded him so much of his own batchmates. Kamino had completely ruined him, from cutting the locks he'd so proudly styled, to removing the very light in those rich dark eyes of his. The only recognizable aspects were the freckles and scars. Fractured constellations.

Croissant had called him insane for putting himself through this. Nocte had just looked at him with such pity. He knows both of them mean well, but honestly kark them both for getting into his business. There was already so much that had been taken from him, he'd be damned if he lost this as well.

Torturous an ordeal or not, Olly would never abandon Rhythm. He can't let him go, even if the healthier option would be to do so. 2895 isn't Rhythm but that doesn't change the fact he used to be.

Maybe... Impossible as it may seem... He could be again...? If Olly tried hard enough...?

With a purpose he lets go of letting go. Just like a turtle Olly slow walks towards that one particularly unfeasable goal.

Even if it means indulging in things he honest to gods hated.

Like playing Rhythm's dumb little playlists full of songs that make his brain hurt. Or practicing twice as hard on his guitar playing skills even when he's too tired to lift it up properly. Sometimes he overturns the little box where he keeps the kids's little gifts, hoping '95 might recognize Agi's finger paints or Vite's handwriting. He has holopics of Lenta, from the few nights they'd all gone out together for some not quite cheap caf. He even holds the turtle plush Rhythm got him once as an apology gift for getting up to shenanigans...

The indifference behind '95's eyes never deters him. He tolerates Olly's company but doesn't seem curious at all about any of the memorabilia. Just seems interested in meticulously retouching his standard-painted shock trooper armour.

Olly's continuously dashed and renewed hopes smell like fresh paint.

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #coruscant guard #commander fox #clone trooper dogma #sergeant hound #clone ocs #riot trooper olly olly oxenfree #clone trooper lichtenberg #clone trooper pretty boy #communications corrie rhythm #riot trooper red alert #k9 trooper redacted #k9 trooper bumblebee #clone medic remedy #clone medic croissant #clone medic nocte #arc trooper drift

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sagistgroup · 1 year ago

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neemanseating · 1 year ago

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nancypullen · 2 years ago

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Where Was I?

It’s been a busy few days, where did I leave you? I think we were stuffing our faces with Valentine food. I’ve been on a celery and salad kick since then - my arteries need scrubbing. Since then we’ve made more progress on the kitchen (hardware added, sink and faucet ordered, quartz counters ordered) and I love it more every day. Here’s the hardware -

They’re a warm, oil-rubbed bronze finish and Mickey made short work of attaching them to 28 cupboards and drawers. My hero. That’s why you see a glimpse of his shop vac in the second photo - he even sucked up sawdust from his drill as he worked. His mama trained him right. We finally chose and ordered our countertops. I spent a long time shuffling and staring at samples.

I thought I’d be more of a fan of the sort of soapstone sample - the rectangular, dark tile that’s middle left. Maybe I should have waited until we had the hardware on and viewed hem that way. Nah, I knew that I was getting the right vibe from some of the beige pieces. I zeroed in on one that is a few shades darker than the cabinets, but in the same family. Not too cool, not too warm, has a soft, creamy feel, that sort of thing.

I didn’t like the really busy samples at all. The darker options seemed too harsh in the open concept (I hate that phrase) floor plan we have. Beige worked best, but some were too light, some were too gray, and the sample named Taj Royale was baby bear’s chair - just right.

Our installation date is March 10th and I can’t wait. Hallelujah! In even better news, Matt arrived yesterday! He came home to spend his birthday week with us and it’s already been fun. Tomorrow he’ll be 38 and there’s absolutely no way I can have a child that old. NO way. How did that happen?? Obviously, I was a child bride. When Matt and I are together something weird usually happens. We’re both freak magnets, and we thoroughly enjoy that. Today we went out and about on a couple of errands but it was all very ordinary. Bummer. We’ll try again tomorrow.

One of the stops that we made today was at an auction house. There’s a company in Denton that deals in estate sales and that sort of thing and they have an auction every week. During the pandemic everything went online and they’ve never gone back to hosting live auctions. They post a catalog of items every Sunday and customers have all week to scroll through it. On Saturdays and Sundays they throw open the doors so you can inspect the goods, and bidding ends on Monday, with auctions closing every few seconds. We have lost our ever-loving minds over this stuff. Last week we picked up two Cracker Barrel rocking chairs for less than the price of one. Score! I bought a gorgeous large mirror to start a makeover of the downstairs powder room...and only paid four dollars for it. The cheapskate in me is quivering with delight.

Here’s the mirror, stashed in the garage. You can see the rockers too!

Don’t judge that corner of the garage. It’s a work in progress.

I’ve picked up batches of gorgeous picture frames for a few dollars. Mickey won the bid for a beautiful Longaberger storage basket with a wooden lid that is currently storing vinyl and paper in my craft room. It’s so nice. We turned Tyler and Jamie on to the auction sit and they’ve made a couple of fabulous purchases. Yesterday’s auction had some wonderful patio furniture that I wish I had a need for - and it went cheap. We did get these great wicker trunks for the master closet, perfect for keeping things tidy.

They’re in excellent condition and you know I love pretty storage. I couldn’t resist this adorable baby doll cradle.

It rocks perfectly. I’ll clean it up and make it sweet for the grandgirl to tuck her baby into. You know there will be rosebuds and lace involved. One of the items that Jamie purchased was an exceptionally nice faux plant. She’d been shopping for one for their home office, and as you know they’re ridiculously pricey. I sent her pics from the auction house of three different plants and this was the winner.

She won it at just over the five dollar mark. She’ll fluff it up and put it in a pretty pot and she’s saved herself about a hundred bucks. I’m giddy over the bargains.

Mickey purchased this thing.

He says it’s a saw, and that giant rolling case has some saw-related paraphernalia in it. He’s looking toward retirement and thinking of making frames (for his millions of photos) and doing a bit of woodworking like his dad did. I’ve shared a few of the purchases the Pullen family made, and left out a bunch of odds and ends that were smaller. A wooden desk organizer, vintage bowls, etc. Mickey was working today and the Edgewaters are over the bridge doing the same, so I told everyone that I’d be happy to pick up all of the winnings. I love doing it and it makes me look like a big spender. BUT...I forgot that our SUV is in the shop (that’s another story) and we have a rental. A little sedan with a trunk just about the size of that doll cradle. Matt said he’d come with me to help load up and I warned him that I might have to make three trips. Those big wicker trunks, that enormous saw and case, the large plant, the cradle, the odds and ends...oh dear. Luckily, I raised kids in the generation that played countless video games and Matt’s Tetris skills kicked in. We filled every nook and cranny of that little car and got it all home.

It wasn’t purty but we got��‘er done. Now I’ve got to wrap this up and get dinner on the table. I started a pork loin in the crockpot about 11am and I’ve got taters and green beans to roast. I’ll add a balsamic glaze to the pork loin and serve it all to these hungry boys. Later I’ll sneak upstairs and wrap the last couple of gifts for the birthday boy and tomorrow we will celebrate him. Sounds like a recipe for a wonderful day. I hope you’ve got something on the calendar to look forward to - anticipation is half the fun. If not, put something on the calendar - “treat myself to a facial” or “picnic in the park”. Oh gosh, stretching out on a blanket with a good book after a picnic lunch sounds like something I need to schedule. Choose something you’d enjoy and make it happen. Life is short, might as well make it sweet. Sending out love, grab some if you need it. Stay safe, stay well.

Nancy P.S. I typed this super fast, I’m sure I’ll look at it later and cringe over the typos. Have mercy.

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