#Leather Gallery Blogs
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Explore Cosy Comfort and Style with the Gilmore Occasional Chairs Range!
Step into a world where relaxation meets unrivalled style with the Gilmore Occasional Chairs Range. These aren't just chairs; they're your retreats crafted to redefine the way you experience comfort. In this feature blog, let's delve into the exquisite details of two stellar variations – the Safari Tiger and Zebra Serenity Gilmore Occasional Chairs.
Picture this: sinking into the finest quality Polyester fabric, feeling the high-density foam seat inners embrace you, all while sturdy steel legs provide the support you've always craved. The exquisite chairs invite you to make every moment count in your cosy haven.
Meet the Gilmore Occasional Chair in Safari Tiger – a true love letter to sophistication and contemporary design. Its tiger print detailing and sleek Gold metallic frame aren't just accents; they're sparks of glamour that light up your space. The Safari Tiger variation dances seamlessly with any room's design, leaving its unique mark.
Tips for Using Safari Tiger:
Don't be afraid to mix patterns – the chair's bold print can play well with others! Pair yours with neutral-coloured furniture for a balanced look.
Accentuate with gold and metallic décor for a cohesive theme. Jazz it up with gold accessories, such as a side lamp, for that extra dash of glam.
Place in the living room, entryway, bedroom, or office for versatile elegance. You can also place it in your favourite reading nook or the spot where you unwind after a long day.
Enter the Gilmore Occasional Chair in Zebra Serenity – a harmonious blend of style and comfort. The striking zebra pattern and the sleek metallic Black frame aren't just design choices; they're an ode to opulence. Zebra Serenity effortlessly slides into any room's design, leaving an impression that's uniquely yours. Get ready to embrace the perfect mix of elegance and modernity.
Tips for Using Zebra Serenity:
Combine with bold, solid-coloured furniture to highlight the chair's pattern. You can mix in some solid-coloured throw pillows for a cosy, eclectic vibe.
Enhance the contemporary look with metallic or black accent pieces. Consider a sleek black coffee table to complement the chair's frame.
Perfect for modern and contemporary homes, especially in the living room or lounge. This chair loves attention, so make it the centrepiece in your living room or lounge.
Your home, your style, your comfort – that's the Gilmore difference. The Safari Tiger and Zebra Serenity Gilmore Occasional Chairs are more than pieces of furniture; they're companions on your journey to a more stylish and comfortable space. So, why settle for the ordinary when you can have extraordinary? Elevate your home with the Gilmore Chairs and let your personal style shine. After all, your sanctuary deserves nothing less!
#Leather Gallery#Leather Gallery Blogs#Gilmore Occasional Chairs Range#Fabric Armchairs#Safari Tiger#Zebra Serenity#Metallic Accents#Gold Frame#Black Frame#Luxury#Comfort#Living Room Furniture#Home Furniture#Home Decor#Interior Design#South Africa
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Prada 2023.
#installation#conceptual#nyc#space#detail#manhattan#minimal interior#time#critic#gallery#Prada#prada fashion#soho#fashion#style#leather jacket#outter wear#blog#vogue
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cherry thrill | lights
9.2k / pairing: daddy dom tattoo artist!joel miller x sub virgin f!reader
series masterlist | main masterlist | notifications blog | ko-fi
chapter summary: your tattoo artist, joel miller, takes your virginity.
chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, implied age gap, swearing, virginity loss, dom&sub dynamics (/not lg), size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, daddy kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, swearing, dirty talk, pet names (princess, bunny, baby girl, sweetheart, etc.), oral (m&f receiving), fingering, protected p in v, joel talks you through it, protective!joel, slight pov switching, reader is described as having no tattoos or piercings, as well as hair, but otherwise no physical description, no use of y/n
series summary: Trust and devotion. Ink meets innocence. Your tattoo artist, Joel Miller, shows you what it really means to give up control. Reeling from the loss of your job, you’re running out of options, until a passing comment from Joel and a video camera give you just the right idea.
A/N: this was supposed to be a one shot but just like everything else I try to write, I expand on the characters too much for it not to become a series. also, thank you for 2,000 followers, I promise to do something soon to show my appreciation <3 I'm bad at giving thanks and receiving attention so anyway - dividers by @firefly-graphics (thank you, daisy!)
During your first consultation, there was something in the air.
Glances that lasted a few seconds too long, a charged energy replicating that of two strong magnets.
You stand frozen in a dark office down the hall from the shop’s main entrance. The walls are painted black. A gallery wall displays different art and posters in gold frames. There’s a large red neon sign with your tattoo artist’s initials, J.M.
Joel Miller.
You sit opposite of him, leg anxiously bouncing and nails subconsciously piercing the chair’s leather arms as he listens silently to your request before his mind starts to work. It doesn’t take much time to draw up an example or two with your guided tweaks and fixes.
Other than the scribble of a graphite pencil, silence falls over you both. And observation takes over.
Joel surrounds himself with scattered drawings on loose paper that litter his desk. You watch the way his eyes screw inward to focus on the sketch he is drawing up. A small vein protrudes from his temple, his jaw shifts from side to side with tension.
He’s a blunt sort of handsome. With harsh edges and lines, jaded and carved with precision like precious marble. It makes your pulse jump a bit in your neck and wrist.
You think your first tattoo should be something special, especially since you’ve waited so long to pull the trigger. He was a bit intimidating like you imagined a tattoo artist to be, what with his brooding demeanor and how he looked you up and down upon taking one step inside his parlor.
Virgin.
That’s what he called your skin, untouched by any ink or piercings.
He didn’t know that it described you down to your core. No one had popped your cherry, taken your virginity, made you theirs. Untouched.
Now, half an hour later and sitting anxiously in his back office, he finishes drawing up the sketch and asks about the precise placement you had in mind.
“I was thinking here,” you mindlessly point to a spot on your upper thigh. There was a level of secrecy to it, in case any future employers cared about that sort of shit.
You can’t help the way your skin vibrates under his touch, when he aids you in taking off your bottoms and runs his calloused palms up the smooth skin of your thighs.
You shakily exhale as he warms you.
You definitely don’t let yourself fantasize that he’s feeling you up, or even think about wanting him to explore every inch of your body. You know he’s just doing his job.
But the way his eyes flick up to yours when he feels the goosebumps he knows he’s created is otherworldly. Like he knows you want him to fuck you. The way your muscles twitch under the warmth of his palm, feeling pliant under his touch. Fuck.
His eyes gleam as his mouth forms into a barely-there smirk.
There was no point in playing coy. Your body changed at the contact and Joel knew it.
It was damn near degrading the way he let you simmer. It set a light inside of you no one had before. So that’s when you knew you’d let him, Joel Miller, take your virginity.
It would be no easy task. You didn’t know how to pursue him, or anyone for that matter. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have said virginity.
You try not to stare for too long, but even with his gruff demeanor and silence being second nature to him, he was handsome. A rugged sort of handsome with different facial piercings.
A septum in his nose highlighted its aquiline structure. And a small hoop in his right eyebrow, with greys tickling through like pretty streaks in the hair. It made him look deliciously too old for you. Perhaps that’s what you enjoyed most, though. He was no amateur.
The moment his fingers dipped into your flesh to work on your tattoo's placement, you knew he felt it, too. Supple under his touch. Squishy. Something he could sink his teeth into. Something that obeyed.
“You prepared for the pain, sweetheart?”
His southern drawl is sweet like honey, deep and husky nonetheless.
“I think so.”
Your response is meek. It’s your wavering nerves from having him so close and unsure what the feeling of being tattooed will be like. Joel looks for certainty instead. He insists on it.
“Need ya t’tell me. Not that you think, that you know.”
“I’m sorry. I know so.”
Joel squeezes the back of your thigh fondly, a proud little smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “Good girl.”
The praise alone was enough to make your thighs sticky with arousal. Joel sent you home that day with an ache between your legs that your fingers had to fix. And you thought about him the entire time.
How his cold tongue piercing would feel against the warmth of your clit. Holding you with his strong, protective arms swirled with black ink. How his staggering dark eyes would look into yours as he fucks you.
But thinking about him wasn’t enough.
You tried to string out the process, anything you could do to fix more time with him. Anything to get his tough palms on your skin.
You fiddled with different placements, opting to show a little skin as you rid yourself of your top and pointed to your ribs during your next appointment.
A breath hitches in your throat as he eyes your bra's innocent pink color. Lacy and pretty. Delicate. He clears his throat and runs his fingers along your side, evidence of his touch causing an effect on you displayed with more goosebumps. Your body could simply not hide the attraction you felt towards him.
“Would hurt. A lot. The ribs move every time you breathe, which makes the tattooing process more painful.” Joel gently cups your side with his large palm and squeezes your ribs, holding you in place as you shakily breathe with the hold he has on you. “Can’t tell ya where to place it, can only advise. Just don’t want such a pretty girl to shed any tears.”
That’s when you knew you could trust him. That even a man as hardened as himself could treat you with such care.
He excuses himself for a moment, opting for more transfer paper and leaving you topless in his private office.
Your ears were ringing, you could hear the quickening beat of your heart. You slowly inch off the portable tattoo table, glancing around Joel’s dark academia-style office.
He’s an enigma, you think, the more you look at his surroundings. Quiet but dark, you knew he was concealing a hidden desire. You hope to unlock it. That he’ll trust you enough just as you trust him.
Articles of clothing start to drop to the floor, one by one. You knew you’d be ambushing him; you didn’t want to scare Joel. So you left yourself in your soft pink-colored bra and panty set. You thought it was classy and cute. Not too forward, but sweet. Definitely planned out, you hope he doesn’t notice.
All your confidence quickly disappears as soon as he comes back in through the door. You could feel your heart slowly sink to your stomach, your lips parting to come up with some sort of reasoning.
“I-I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say. Joel is stilled at the entrance of his office, door still ajar as he blankly stares at the delicate angel standing in the middle of his office.
He clears his throat and finally closes the door, leaving the two of you in silence. You can’t read his expression.
“What do ya think you’re doin’?” He asks, sweet southern drawl dripping with tension as his heavy boots slowly make their way closer to you.
You can only shake your head, unsteady hands concealing as much of your body as possible. You decide to face the mirror, keeping your back to him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I was just-” Lie. “I was just looking at your full-length mirror to see other placement ideas.”
Joel merely shakes his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “I can tell when you’re lyin’ t’me, baby girl. You wanna try tellin’ me the truth now?”
His tone only makes the ache in your core grow with desire as your pulse quickens under his eyeline.
You feel embarrassed, heat coursing through your body and making you tingle as his stare lingers selfishly, basking in the glory of your figure. You watch with want in the reflection as his eyes stare at the curves of your hips and your ass. A handful, he probably thinks.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, moving closer and enveloping you in his musky pine and whiskey scent. It’s almost knowing what he says next. “Tell me what y’want.”
You swallow the lump protruding in your throat before you decide to be honest with him. Like you said, you could trust him. You play with your fingers and pick at the skin by your nails.
“I want you.” You say barely above a whisper.
Joel simply shakes his head, takes another impossible step closer, and cranes his head down to hear you better. His lips and coarse beard hairs tickle at the shell of your ear.
Your eyes close shyly as he speaks again amid your silence.
“Say it again, baby. Can’t hear ya.” His toned front meets your back, forcing a whimper past your lips.
You work up the nerve to take a glance at the two figures in the gold-framed mirror. Perfect opposites. Young, beautiful, a little inexperienced. Older, handsome, sure as hell looks like he knows what he’s doing.
His height looms over you. His eyes are an unknown shade of obsidian and he’s radiating a comforting warmth. Your hand reaches for his, only able to look him in the eyes through the glass as you guide his hand to your hip.
Your thumb rolls across the faded tattoo on the backside of his hand. There used to be a cross there, but it looks to be covered up by some sort of python now. With a shaky sigh, you try again. “I want you, Mr. Miller. I want you to take my virginity.”
You’ve prepared yourself to hear his laughter, a snickering, degrading comment of disbelief. You felt ready to experience shame. But you were wrong.
Joel places his pointer finger under your chin, using his other hand to guide you in his hold to turn and face him. His thumb grazes over your lower lip as he guides your head to tilt up and look at him properly. Your soft eyes meet his lust-driven ones and your heart surges at the sight.
You’ve never seen a man so hungry.
“You want me to take your virginity, little bunny?” He hums seductively. Suddenly, you don’t feel so doomed. It’s placed with a little bit of eagerness now. You wanted your spoils.
“Yes. Want you to do whatever you desire with me, I’ll do anything you want.” You sound like a devoted cult member, but the energy you feel is undeniable. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point.
Slowly but surely, Joel begins to nod. He’s mulled it over and he’s made up his mind.
“Whatever I desire, huh?” He tuts almost degradingly. Your nod of enthusiasm makes his blood rush.
He hesitates, untrusting of his own words.
“Want you to call me Daddy,” He starts haphazardly, gauging your reaction. “Think you can do that, sweet girl?”
Your wide eyes soften, a notch of confusion knotting your eyebrows.
“You- what?”
“Want you to call me daddy. Want you to be a good little girl for me and hop up on that desk. Can ya do that for me, princess?” His chin juts up and signals toward his office desk.
The swirling in your stomach just won’t stop.
“Go on now.” His orotund voice projects his instructions. You back up a few paces until you feel the cool metal of his desk hit your backside, slowly moving to sit on it with hidden excitement and a shiver up your spine.
You do want to be good, if there’s anything you want in this world right now, it’s to play along and be good for him. Knowing he would take care of you was making you leak.
His fingertips delicately touch your skin, starting at your wrists and moving upwards to the straps on your bra. He’s intimidating to look at, so you fixate on something behind him. But it doesn’t help when he clouds your vision. Even his aroma, from the smoke of his cigarettes to the musky spruce cologne, was putting you in a tailspin.
You don’t anticipate the way your body moves for him. His hands skim to the back of your bra, and your spine straightens. It makes the right side of his mouth twitch up into a smirk.
“Nervous?” He belittles.
Your long lashes innocently flutter, you think you might be doing it on purpose. You sort of like playing along.
“A little… Daddy.” You test cautiously, the word tangling on your tongue. But it’s unforgettable the way his eyes light up at the name. You find yourself already willing to do whatever it takes to recreate that signature look of his.
Joel hums appreciatively, thumb making minuscule circles over your chin. “I’ll take care of ya. Ya know that. Or else you wouldn’t have chosen me.”
All you can do is nod. Because he knows that your selection process was a real thing. You had danced around it once during your first consultation when he asked if you had a boyfriend. All you could feel was heat rising to the back of your neck, shy eyes evading his warm brown orbs.
“No, definitely not.”
“What’d’ya mean definitely not? You’re a pretty girl.”
You shrug in a noncommittal way. “I’ve never had to really worry about stuff like… boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Any of that sort of stuff.”
His eyes flicked up to yours in an instant, a mutual understanding of your underlying words. “I see. I understand, angel.”
Joel works your bra off with one hand, you gasp as you feel the material loosen around your body. His opposite hand taps at the top of your thigh. You’re all too aware you are eagerly sitting half-naked on his desk.
“Open.” He directs, voice laced with smoke.
You nip at your lower lip and slowly inch your clamped-shut thighs open for him. He instantly makes eye contact with the wet, dark little circle that’s ruining the pristine innocence of your panties.
He decides not to make fun of it, but it’s truly a compliment. Your adoration for him. “This all for me, angel?”
You work up a few quick nods. Now that he was so close, you wanted him to hurry the hell up.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
You feel heat tingle at the sides of your neck. This would be your first time really talking like this with someone. He made it feel safe to talk so dirty. To try, to learn.
“Yes, daddy.”
You can’t deny how proud you feel to be the reason a certain warmth brightens in his eyes and on his smirk. You did that, you pleased him. Little did you know how he’d thank you for it.
“You said you’re a virgin? Hard to believe.”
A shaky sigh leaves your parted lips as his warm palms slowly pull your bra down, revealing your breasts to him. “Just never found anyone I really trusted or liked enough.”
He mutters something quiet in understanding, all too distracted by how damn pretty you look.
Joel is silently observing your body, he can’t help but want to touch the delicate flower in front of him. A gasp leaves your parted lips as his calloused hands come up and cup your breasts. He starts to squeeze, and a happy little whimper leaves your mouth with a small smile.
“I like that.” You tell him, hoping it improves your chances that he’ll do it again. Which he does.
“Good.” He compliments, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning them into peaks that send electricity down your spine.
A sweet and experimental moan leaves your lips. Joel stands between your parted legs and you feel his erection for the first time against your skin. You can tell by the shape protruding through his pants that he’s a large man, already thick and swollen for your taking.
“No one’s ever been inside of you?” He damn near growls, raising an eyebrow after the beat he offers you to answer.
You shake your head again. “I’ve tried my fingers, but I’m sure it’s not the same.”
A scoffy little breath echoes out of his nose. “No, not quite. Lay back for me, bunny.” His hands release your breasts, pebbled nipples left abandoned as you slowly move down onto your elbows and then onto your back.
There was a sudden peak of anxiety, not being able to fully see him. But perhaps this was the point, to fully surrender yourself under his touch. To trust him.
His rough hands grip the sides of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He gets about halfway down your thighs before you quickly sit up on your elbows again.
“Joel?” Your voice anxiously chirps.
He stops, eyes flicking up to you from your cunt still concealed by your sticky thighs.
“We can stop,” He says before you can explain. “S’okay if you’re not ready.”
“No, no, that’s not it, God, that’s not it,” You rid his worries, feeling your chest quickly rise and fall under his all of a sudden protective gaze.
“I uh-... I know you don’t owe me this, we’re not together, but… can you talk me through what you’re doing? I want to learn, and I can tell you’re experienced, I know it’s a lot to ask but-”
“S’not too much to ask.” He quickly intervenes, gently taking your hands and guiding you to sit up fully once more. Your soft eyes graze over all the layers he’s still wearing, and suddenly you’re reminded how naked you are.
“Use your voice, sweet girl. Can tell you wanna say somethin’. This is your time.”
The sentiment means a lot. It is your time, your first time, and just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean it should be any less special. So you decide to make it your time, the way you want it.
“Can you take your clothes off too? And is the door locked?” You trail off upon seeing his amused smirk.
“Go on.” He nods again, letting you list your needs and wants.
“And can you kiss me, please, Daddy?” You ask more softly than the rest of your demands. You know that kissing is romantic, but you think it might help settle you. Pull you back from drifting away, keep you here with him.
He watches you for a moment, a bemused grin on his lips before he gently cradles your face. “The door’s locked. I’ll take my clothes off. And I’ll kiss you as many times as you like as long as you keep askin’ that nice.”
For the first time during your interaction, your face lights up with a smile. It’s small, it’s thankful, but it’s there. There was an undeniable connection you shared with Joel, it made you feel safe under his curious eyes.
With his large hands cupping either side of your jaw, he leans down while simultaneously guiding your chin up as your lips meet. It’s gentle at first, soft. His mouth tastes like a cigarette, it’s oddly intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more.
You know how to make out at the very least. So when you gently bite down and tug on Joel’s lower lip, both of your eyes open as a throaty little groan escapes him.
He kisses you a little harder this time, hands falling to your hips as he pulls you closer so your fronts align. The force makes your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to let his tongue invade your mouth. He moves fluently to explore, both of you falling into a sweet lull as your bodies meld into one.
Inadvertently, he hooks his pointer finger into your panties halfway down your thighs and finishes pulling them to your ankles. They land somewhere on the floor in a pile of your other clothes.
Unbeknownst to you until he took his hands off your body to pluck open his belt do you realize how you were on fire for him.
You wonder while he pushes down his trousers and tugs off his shirt if he’s ever slept with a virgin before. If you’d be his version of a first time just like he’d be yours. No, not his first ever, you weren’t that foolish. But maybe you could teach him a thing or two as well.
There’s no way to mask your surprise when he pushes down his boxer briefs, the dark band revealing all that was underneath. His half-hard cock raises towards his stomach, rosiness fluttering at his tip. You were pleasantly surprised to find that it was a little hooked, deliciously curving upwards.
With a new sense of confidence, your hand reaches forward and you start to shift your hand up and down his length. Joel’s quiet grunt shatters your thoughts. He gently cups the side of your neck and twirls a piece of hair around his finger.
Joel takes your hand off his cock and you worry you’ve done something wrong already. He holds it palm-side up and nods encouragingly. “Spit on your hand, baby.”
He nods after you look up at him with shy, blown-out eyes. But you obey.
You spit into your hand and let him guide your hand back around his member. That seems a lot better. He glistens with your spit and you have the urge to keep shocking him with your confidence.
You lean forward and directly spit onto his tip, looking up to see his approving little smirk.
“Fuck- That’s- mmm, that’s good, angel,” he sighs with a certain happiness, loving the feeling of getting his cock taken care of. “Feels real good.”
The praise sets off a million pistons in your brain, feeling yourself scrabble off the desk, dropping to your knees as you continue to pump him.
He’s heavy in your hand, and you gently lean forward to give sweet kisses to the tip. You swallow the lump in your throat before parting your lips, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. He’s salty, musky, but not dirty. In fact, he was rather well-kempt in his nether regions.
You force yourself deeper and Joel already has his hands in your hair to pause you.
“Woah, slow your roll, pretty girl.” He says with shortened breaths. Heat floods your body, you hate being so new to this.
Joel continues to stroke your hair back, gently gliding a thumb up your cheekbone before he cradles one side of your face. “I see you gettin’ all shy, I know this is your first time, but I’ll teach you the basics. And no one’s perfect on their first try, okay? So just get that thought outta your head now.”
Your chest swells at his eagerness to relax you, so you nod gently and lean in to kiss the base of his stomach in appreciation. The right side of his mouth tilts up as he swipes his thumb across your plump bottom lip, a silent thank you for the kiss.
“You’re a real good girl, you know that?” A bigger smile breaks across your lips and you eagerly tug on his cock with eagerness. Joel sighs, already in defeat at how you’re willing to get it right for him, to learn, to listen. To obey.
“You’re gonna wanna relax your jaw,” his fingers guide you, your lips parting and letting your jaw drop lower, lower, lower for him. “And the whole part is to suck, not just put your mouth on it, okay, peaches? So hollow your cheeks, no teeth, and only go as far as you feel comfortable.”
You shake off your nerves and clear your throat, feeling your mouth fill with spit intended for him. You place your hands on the back of his thighs, feeling the dark hairs under the pads of your fingers.
Slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip once more. You swirl your tongue around him, adoring the way he hisses when you glide your tongue across the slit leaking a salty substance.
Over the introduction, you try to take him down your throat properly. And he’s a mouthful, literally. He’s a lot. But you try to just enjoy that there’s no real pressure.
A lot of saliva starts to build in your mouth, and you swallow it around him. You’re awestruck when he lets out a low moan, strong hands weaving through your hair and lightly tugging. Your eyes flutter up to him through your lashes, and he’s looking at you so deliciously.
You can tell he wants to fuck your mouth, holding his hips back from really letting you have it. And maybe he could do that to you someday, but for now, today was slow. And Joel knew that too.
Joel gently tucks your hair back, your lips suctioning around his length before he drags you back towards him, indicating for you to start moving, to bob your head.
It takes a few tries, but you really feel yourself going further down his cock. You breathe through your nose, but it’s hard when you’re trying not to gag around him. Finally, after little to no error, you slip up. His tip unexpectedly hits the back of your throat and you gag around him.
Joel must feel your whole body tense with anxiety because he’s quick to gently hush and console you. Your eyes well up with tears, but your first instinct is to keep him inside your mouth and swallow around him.
A long, low groan leaves Joel’s mouth, a compliment to your first big challenge.
“Holy fuck,” he pants, weaving his fingers into your hair and fisting eagerly to keep himself grounded. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ well, princess, you have no idea, fuck,” he grins. “Try using your hands on what you can’t take, come on, baby.”
You can feel yourself physically gush at his compliments, your stomach swirling with a newfound desperation. To please.
With new instructions, you work your hand at his base and pump up and down with the rhythm of your mouth. You worked on gently squeezing and releasing your hand, making Joel go slack-jawed as a husky groan leaves the back of his throat. Sucking and licking and bobbing your head in earnest, he’s already twitching in your mouth.
“You’ve done this before baby,” his voice drips with a smirk, pulling yourself off for some deep breaths and a few desperate swallows.
“Haven’t, promise, Joel,” You coo with a proud little smile, your voice thick and wrecked as you continue to pump his cock in the absence of your mouth.
Joel lets your hair go and guides your hand off his cock before helping you up from the floor.
Your face is obviously written with disappointment, you could have continued. You sort of wanted to continue despite the ache hanging around in your jaw.
“You were gonna make me come, don’t wanna come yet, angel,” Joel pants weakly, ducking down and connecting your lips. You’re a little taken aback. Not by the kiss, but by the fact you already had him nearly ready to finish.
“Really?” You murmur hopefully against his mouth, wishing he wasn’t just saying it to compliment you.
The way that his features started to twitch and his tummy and chest fluttered with his jagged breathing, it would have been quite a sight to see him finish. Maybe he would have even done it right on your tongue. The thought alone gives you goosebumps.
Your insides swirl as he licks inside of your mouth and gently runs his tongue along your bottom lip, moving you back towards his desk. You hop up without his instruction, feeling him smirk against your pouted mouth.
“Now you’re gettin’ a hang of things.” He murmurs into your mouth, carrying on where he had left off before, sinking down to his own knees at the edge of the desk and positioning your feet to rest up on the edge. He seems to stare at the glistening arousal you’ve been creating for the last hour straight.
That nervous feeling settles in your stomach, completely bare and open for him. A shocked gasp leaves your mouth, not prepared for him already to be diving into your pussy.
The breadth of his tongue slowly swipes up the center of your core, purposely flicking off of your clit and making you yelp at the contact. His cold tongue piercing against your sensitive bundle made a shiver shoot up your spine.
He gently smirks as he places a sweet kiss on the inside of your thigh. “You’re jumpy, kitten. Take a breath. Wanna make you feel real good.”
You let out a shaky sigh and move off your elbows, back flat on his desk as your eyes slowly drift close. Then, as he starts to truly taste you, learning you and what you like, it’s unexpected how much you enjoy it. It never really dawned on you that some people truly enjoy eating pussy, but Joel Miller sure does.
Your broken little whimpers and strung-out moans turn into writhing on his desk under him. He was such an expert, meticulously swirling his tongue around you and suckling your clit into his mouth.
It didn’t take long for your fingers to wind up into his hair as his shoulders lay bracketed between your thighs. It was heavy, it was stomach-twisting, in fact, it was rolling through you like a storm. The it in question was your first oral orgasm.
“J-Joel,” you gasp, your jaw dropping down as he slowly prods the tip of his finger at your entrance.
“Need to get you ready for my cock, sweet girl, keep focusing on how good you feel,” he encourages. Your face pinches as his finger slowly sinks into your entrance, but you realize how grateful you are for all the extra spit and arousal Joel has provided.
It doesn’t necessarily hurt, it’s a weird ache at first. But then his finger starts to slowly pump inside of you, and it’s a new craving. Especially with the way his tongue moves around your clit, the pistons in his brain firing all to figure out what you like.
Do you like when he flicks your clit with his cold metal piercing?
“Ohmygod-” you gasp.
Do you like when he swirls his naughty tongue around you in tight figure eights?
“Joel, please,” you say, needing more.
Did you like it most when he suckles around your sweet bud?
“Joel!” You cry out, tugging tighter at his hair, not sure if you want to tug him closer for more or push him away because it feels too good.
“O-Oh, oh my god.” Lying still was a foreign thing to you now, all you could do was wiggle and grip your fingers into his hair, tugging harshly as he grunted against your core in enjoyment.
He actually likes pleasing you, he likes tasting you! It’s a compliment without words as your eyes dip close and your head digs back into the desk.
Suddenly, your stomach starts to drop like you’re on a rollercoaster. You’re not unfamiliar with the feeling of an orgasm, but this, oral, it hits differently.
“Fuck,” you curse unexpectedly, making Joel cock up an eyebrow as he glances up at you. All you can do is watch as his mouth suckles harder around you, his finger pumping faster and adding a second.
Because if there’s anyone in this world that can break you out of your shell, Joel wants it to be him.
Now you’re really aching for him, wishing that it was his cock slotted between your walls, pushing you towards euphoria.
“Know you wanna come for me angel,” his fingers quirk upwards in a come here motion, and a long, strung-out moan of his name leaves your lips.
God forbid any of the shop’s workers or clients hear you, but you can’t think of a singular reason to care right now.
Your walls flex and squeeze around Joel’s two fingers, truly feeling the stretch as you come around his digits. It leaves you a whimpering mess on his desk, hot pants leaving your pretty lips.
Joel is in heaven, lapping you up and moaning against your core as your clit starts to twitch with the overstimulation. His hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs before he sits up and kisses up your body, his own lips meeting yours. He’s hungry, and you’re still bouncing back. But you want it so bad, and you’re so close to finally having it.
“Joel, I’m ready.” You coo, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He breathily laughs and pecks your lips once more, tasting your own arousal and making you feel warm inside.
“Desperate for my cock, ain’t that right, pretty girl?”
God, he was such a menace with his mouth. Your adorably shy grin is all the answer he needs. But you give him one anyway, because he likes when you talk like that with him.
“Yes, daddy, I just wanna feel it already,” you try out, Joel’s lust-filled eyes meeting yours as white-hot heat spills into your stomach.
“I’ll give it to ya, baby girl. Wanna give that tight little virgin pussy my cock, don’t want anyone else to have ya. Mine.” Joel huskily grunts, a choked moan leaving your lips.
Joel reaches past your head and to the drawer on the other side of the desk. He jimmies it open and searches his hand around blindly. He flips open his wallet and pulls a small square foil package from the slot.
Oh, duh, a condom. In all your excitement, you sort of forgot to be safe. But you’re glad he was prepared.
You watch with adoration on your features as Joel lifts the condom to his lips, pearly teeth ripping the foil off but not hurting the condom. His other hand rests sweetly on your hip, thumb running soothing circles into your pretty skin.
It’s a soothing feeling, one that he doesn’t have to do, but he does because he’s being considerate and maybe even a little protective. You gently lay your hand on his forearm, fingers tracing fresh black ink and older green ink on his arm’s sleeve.
A shaky sigh leaves your lips as he uses both hands to glide the condom down his shaft. It’s nearly invisible, the way it’s so thin and tightly wrapped around his cock. Besides the band that rests at the very bottom of his shaft. He grumbles something incoherent, probably his annoyance with the fussing of the condom and how tight it probably felt around him.
You take in a shaky breath and nod at him once he comes to rejoin your centers.
“You’re sure you’re ready for this? Don’t wanna wait for someone y’love? Or trust? Or just... Anybody but me?” Joel’s face is pinched with genuine concern.
You smile softly and gently cup his cheek. “I do trust you. It takes a lot of trust to allow someone to alter your body forever with a tattoo. So, you’re giving me a tattoo, and you’re taking my virginity. You’re sort of doubling down for me right now, honestly.”
Joel flashes a genuine little smile. It’s the most you’ve said consistently all day with him, even with a little drip of sarcasm and wit.
“Okay. But ya gotta say it.” He says more seriously.
“I’m ready, Daddy. Want you to make me feel good. I know you can.” You can already feel yourself picking up his dirty talk. It makes your smile twitch as you gently grip both of his forearms, his hands spreading your thighs open for him.
He enters the space, his heavy cock resting over your core and slowly slipping up and down your wet folds.
You let out an unexpected little scoff as he grinds himself down against you, your arousal soaking the condom. He holds himself at his base and taps his tip down against your already throbbing clit, making you hiss out a desperate whine.
“M’not usually this… gentle.” He admits through gritted teeth. You’re sort of shocked by that. Sure, he has a rough and tough exterior, but he’s treated you with such delicacy that you assumed he was like this all the time.
“So, what are you usually like?” You pose, your breath hitching in your throat as one of his hands abandons your thighs and guides his tip from your clit to your entrance, up and down, several times. Your thighs twitch impatiently. Your entrance squeezes around nothing.
“M’just... not this gentle,” is all he can say without breaking into a bemused smile.
“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.”
Joel playfully scoffs as his face starts to pierce with concentration. “Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.”
“I’m sure I-” your words are cut off by a loud gasp, your lips parting as his tip penetrates your walls. You’re phased for a moment before you gulp and recollect yourself. You whimper, louder and louder as he pushes on, watching Joel move with such caution.
He really is holding back, you think. You wonder what he’s like when he can just fuck how he pleases.
“Baby,” Joel’s voice breaks your concentration. “Breathe.”
A loud huff of air leaves your mouth that you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. The ache in your hips and core only builds with tension as Joel pushes on, his length and girth surely parting your tight walls.
“So fuckin’- tight.” He says with gritted teeth, his fingers piercing into the delicate flesh of your outer thighs, making you whimper.
“Joel,” you quietly cry for him, tears threatening to spill at the pain. It’s just- a lot. It’s a lot for your first time, and maybe you wouldn’t have signed up if you knew what he was packing, but in a weird way, you loved it. He felt made for you.
“M’here, angel, look at me.” In all the excitement and overwhelming feelings of pain and pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed you were clenching your eyes closed. You slowly peek them open, greeted by his heavenly features.
“There’s my girl.” He compliments, warmth and sweetness shooting through your body.
“Fuck,” you say, your voice a bit wet as Joel comes down closer to aid you. He’s all the way in now, you can feel his balls flushed against your sopping wet cunt.
The arousal helps, the condom sort of doesn’t but it’s fine, that’s life, you think. You’re torn between pain and pleasure. Honestly, you just feel so fucking full.
He tells you between breathy pants that he would have used lube if he had any, but he didn’t, and he’s sorry, and his pretty voice starts to turn into static with how fucking good he feels inside of you.
“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praises, sponging a few kisses along your cheeks and tasting your salty tears. You feel like some weak pathetic being under him. He’s been sweet, but you’re sure he’s just treating you like he found a wounded animal.
“Move, Joel, please” you weakly demand, lassoing your arms around his neck and holding him close to you.
“No.” He says through gritted teeth. “Just-” he pauses and takes a deep breath, knowing that you’re dealing with a million emotions right now as he’s trying to breathe around the death grip you have on his cock. “Just wait a minute, sweetheart, let yourself adjust.”
A pouty, bratty sigh leaves your lips as you continue to blink away tears. You eventually nod and he only smiles adoringly as he returns to kiss at the tears.
Your senses are spiked. You can smell his cologne, feel each gristle of hair from his salt and pepper beard. It’s erotic how much more you can feel while at the edge of your emotions.
One of your hands roams into his darling chocolate curls, instinctually going to gently scrape your nails delicately against his scalp. You’re sweetly surprised to hear him mutter a sweet little moan just for you against the shell of your ear.
Your hands flutter across dark tattoos on his shoulders and arms, your blurry vision trying to make out the shapes as you trace a pretty angel on his upper bicep.
Joel Miller was inside of you. Joel Miller has taken your virginity. The hottest man you’ve ever set your eyes on is fucking you at his place of work, on his desk. And you convinced him to.
Joel was right. The pain, ache, and burn slowly turned into a real yearning for him to move. It felt like what was right, a certain neediness to be filled and fucked.
“Daddy,” you whisper more sweetly this time, more to your character. “Please fuck me, you feel good now, I can take it. Promise.”
It takes him a moment to gather himself as well, smiling sweetly as he keeps his mouth by your breasts where he is sucking a gentle hickey into your soft skin. Color flushes to the area, feeling his teeth gently nibble on the spot before he finally lifts off.
Marking you, you think. It makes another gush of arousal flood your core, liquifying your spine as you become putty in his hands.
His mouth twitches in a small smile as he captures your lips. Unbeknownst to you, the sweet kiss was just a distraction.
Joel slowly began reeling his hips back which was a whole new sensation. His strangled moan harmonized with the gasp you let out into his mouth, moaning out the breath you were holding as he plunges himself fully back inside your warm cunt.
You whimpered weakly, needy and anxiously happy, you wanted more. More, more, more.
“Oh- my god,” you whimper, feeling him start a steady rhythm inside of you. Your jaw slowly drops and your eyes flutter closed, feeling your tits start to lightly bounce every time his hips perfectly align with your own.
“So goddamn tight, still,” he grunts each word, forehead against yours as he watches your face unfold with a million reactions.
Something primal switches in Joel, knowing he’s the first one to do this sort of stuff with you.
It’s strangely possessive and arrogant, he knows it, but being the first man you trust to fuck you properly was feeding his ego. You’re a beautiful young woman with big doe eyes who waltzed into his shop and insisted he rail you, take your sacred first, talk you through it, and carry you through this dark and fearful forest.
You trusted him. He wouldn’t break that bond.
You came here wanting something, knowing how to get it. You came here asking, and Joel was open to teaching. The last thing he wanted was for some asshole to hurt you, something your sweet nature couldn’t afford was poison.
Maybe he could teach you more, if you wanted. If he offered you an invitation to his world, would you take it? He only shared a slice of his lifestyle with you today, would the rest scare you, or entice you?
Joel can’t help the way his hips buck faster at his thoughts, a little sob leaving your lips. He’s absent, just for a moment, feeling your skin slap against his as he holds you down and fills you fully. His tip hits your cervix for the first time and heat floods your stomach as you cry out his name.
“Shit,” he panics and quickly comes back to his senses, wide eyes meeting your bleary ones, “you okay, angel? M’sorry” Joel whispers, returning to his original rhythm.
“Yes-yes, fuck, please keep going, keep doing that, I can’t believe how good it feels.”
Joel weakly smirks, proud to see you taking him so well.
The desk squeaks and juts with each of his heavy thrusts, that’s how you know it’s fucking good. You came here wanting to lose your virginity, but now that you’ve unwound Joel Miller, you want him to fucking rail you.
Licking your lips, you lean up and pepper kisses up his wirey jawline, feeling the patch of hair that fades out and then back in again. He’s so sweet right now, but you wonder what he was talking about before. What was he when he wasn’t gentle? How good would rough feel? Would you like it? Maybe you could learn, explore, adventure. Surely Joel with his experience could be a guiding light.
You watch with glittery eyes as Joel pulls his head off yours and licks across the pads of his fingers.
“What are you- shit,” you whimper as his fingers start circling your clit, taking a moment to find your sweet little rhythm, one that somehow matches his hips. Now, your skin is slapping and it’s echoing around the room. Your moans are louder and uncontrollable, as are Joel’s. Your hips ache but you don’t find the will to care, he feels like fucking heaven.
His cock is somehow inching deeper, as if your walls have decided to invite him in further, where he hits this perfect little spot inside of you that makes you squeak Joel’s name with robbed breaths.
You’re not sure if you can hold on much longer, your stomach starts to swirl as all the knots inside your belly begin to untie themselves.
You brace Joel at his shoulders and look into his eyes as you moan his name. A certain hunger flickers behind his dark brown orbs. His jaw clicks and he starts fucking you in earnest, filling you up each time as his hips snap with vigor. He feels fucking amazing, piercing your walls and marking you as his.
“Joel-”
“Say what I wanna hear, baby,” he rasps. You quickly nod and gulp.
“Daddy, please, I-I’m so close,” you moan sweetly as your head digs into the desk, jutting your chin up and arching your back. Joel takes full advantage of your breasts in his face, burying his nose in between them and nipping at the sensitive flesh, nearly making you yelp.
“M’right there with you, angel baby, come for me,” he insists breathlessly.
His hips were losing their precision, going buck-wild, so you knew he was close. But he was holding out for you.
You clench your eyes closed, feeling yourself lose all control. Your heart races in your chest, beat thrumming in your throat as you hold Joel against your front as his hips continue to snap and fill you. You don’t know what to do with your mouth, so you feverishly land your lips on his and make him mask the moans of your orgasm.
Joel’s groan echoes loudly into your mouth as you gasp against his lips. Your walls clench eagerly around his cock as he spills into the condom.
It’s blinding, deafening even. Your face goes slack and your eyes see stars. You think you might be shedding a tear or two because Joel is cupping your face kindly, thumbs swiping under your eyes as he encourages you out of your haze.
“Lemme see those eyes, pretty girl,” he pants sweetly, watching for any sign of doubt. But he wouldn’t find any.
You’re not so sure where he starts and you begin, your mind is so fuzzy.
A soft hum leaves your lips as you soothingly run a hand through his dark hair again, gently stroking the longer curls away from the sheen on his forehead. Both of you were so warm, it felt like a fire was set between you two. When you curl a strand around your finger, you weakly smile as it coils back up and bounces.
“How was your first time, angel?” Joel pants, still buried balls deep inside of you. Your hips ache, but part of you wasn’t ready for him to pull out yet.
“I can’t believe I finished twice.” You admit with a shy smile, running a thumb up his cheekbone and glancing up at his eyebrow piercing. He notices you staring but keeps his eyes on your own.
“Did it hurt?”
He shakes his head.
“What about the one in your nose?”
He shakes his head again, this time with a smile.
“Or your tongue?”
This one made him ponder before he finally gave a light shrug.
“You don’t remember the pain after a while. Just like tattoos. The pain is temporary.”
Your mouth tilts in a lopsided smile, feeling messy with both of your spillages still puddled around your centers.
Joel grunts as he slowly stands up from his bent-over position on the desk, pulling himself out of you and tying up the condom before he tosses it into the waste bin.
You whine quietly to yourself as you close your legs. It hurts a little more now. Your hips and your core, a certain soreness. Or maybe it was missing him already.
“Oh,” you whisper, starting to feel a little bit of leakage glide down your thigh. “Joe, do you-”
“Course,” Joel says assuringly, hands already on a towel as he neals down and gently glides the material up the inside of your thigh. You bite down on your lip as he cleans you up with the soft towel and a little bit of water.
You glance around the sterilized room and realize he’ll probably have to scrub this place down for the most part. Whoops.
You’re slow to dress. Joel’s already buttoned his pants by the time you find your panties. He snickers quietly and helps you dress with a smirk.
It’s not awkward like you feared it would. It sort of felt like you guys were friends. Then, something sort of unexpected happens.
Joel fondly strokes a hair out of your face, pushing it behind your ear and smoothing out the little knots he had caused while fisting your hair during his blowjob. He’s soft and gentle with you. It makes you oh so curious what he looks like when he’s not soft and gentle.
You sigh softly as you look at yourself in the mirror. You sort of felt proud, like you’d be a whole new person leaving the shop today. Even without a tattoo.
“Joel, I don’t want anyone to see me leaving your office.”
“That ashamed of me, huh?” He scoffs at you playfully, running his hand up and down his chest hair before he finally throws on his shirt. “I have the back office, so we can just go out that door.” He juts up his chin to behind you and you follow his eyeline. “Goes to the alley behind the shop.”
You note the dark green painted exit door, and you’re thankful you don’t have to parade through the front of the shop or go past any other clients.
The gentleman that he is, Joel walks you to your car as dusk settles in, marking the sky an orange and red horizon.
“I gotta clean up the shop and close. You gonna be okay until I see you next?”
You nod meekly, a sweet smile on your face that twinges with a little shyness. “I’ll be okay. I still need that tattoo.” You tease to which he grins.
“You do. I’ve worked real hard on it, so you better come back an’get it.”
You nip at your lower lip as he stays guarded by your window, like a handsome pierced, and tatted bodyguard.
It’s itching at you too much to let it go. You’re just too curious.
“M’not this gentle.”
“Yeah? Maybe you can show me next time what you’re really like.”
“Not sure if you can handle it, kitten.”
You gulp and clutch his hand before he fully stands up to walk away from your car. “You’ll show me again sometime? Like you said?”
Your eyes glimmer with a certain hopefulness, but his own seem to harden out of caution.
It was just insane that he knew so much more than you. You wanted to unlock all forms of pleasure you were comfortable with. You like that he was holding something back.
You were wet clay in his massive hands, he could mold you to his liking. You could learn his pleasures, his kinks, what unravels him beyond repair. You could learn a thing or two about yourself in the process.
Joel sighs.
“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for.” He warns, lips crooked in a snarl. His eyes beg for you not to want him, not to want this.
But nothing set your nerves on fire like seeing him in control of you, just that brief second where his eyes flashed from amber to black and he fucked you like nothing or no one was stopping him. What if you gave it all up to him?
Submissiveness dances behind your eyes, and Joel’s a sucker for that sweet look on your face. He debates if this is what you really want, or if it’s something else. He can’t deny he enjoys the trust you put in him.
Joel quietly sighs with hesitation, eyes the way your small hand desperately holds his before he finally squeezes back.
“You don’t know how t’take no for an answer, do ya?” He asks, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. “That’ll have to change.”
You grin and nod, biting down on your lower lip as you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Joel takes notice, not wanting to see you in any sort of discomfort, especially from something he caused.
“Take some pain medicine and relax tonight, angel. You were perfect.”
Your heart swells at the compliment, the appreciation, the care. He gently pats your window a few times before standing up straight and backing up from your car, moving back towards the dark green exit door. “I’ll see you soon.”
Driving away, you’re giddy with excitement of the unknown. It was a dark path you wanted to pursue. And maybe it was fucking stupid how you could trust a complete stranger like this, how none of your past partners felt worthy of your first time, but the tattooed and pierced old southern gentleman did. It was fucked. But you were sort of fucked for Joel Miller.
You hum to the radio as you experience pure adrenaline, thumb gliding over the raised numbers on his business card. You glance down and notice a small stamp of a fern in the top right corner, adjacent to his name and professional title.
The Obsidian Gallery
Joel Miller
Senior Tatoo Artist
You can’t explain how your heart inadvertently races as you remember flashes of his hips rutting into yours, those same delicate fern leaves decorating the front of his hips. You were so fucked for Joel Miller.
next chapter ->
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#The Last Of Us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller tlou#pedro pascal#joel miller pedro pascal#daddy dd/sub#dd/sub kink#dd!joel miller#dom/sub
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Fire On Fire: Chapter 26 Part 2
(Ch. 26.1) ... (Ch. 1)
II Gallery II Symbol Guide II
Summary: With the Gestapo on high alert and a bounty on her head, the stakes are only getting higher for Alix as the night of her mission fast approaches. But luckily, she and Captain Nixon have some help.
WARNINGS: War, Death, Espionage, Survivor's Guilt, Nix's functional alcoholism, the usual
A/N: All disguises mentioned are actual techniques used by the OSS, SOE, & CIA! Also, Cisco is based heavily on SOE spy Juan Pujol Garcia (aka Agent Garbo) & several other Spanish Maquisards who fought the rise of fascism in Europe for years before WW2 began!💖
Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs @mccall-muffin @lieutenant-speirs @bellewintersroe @emmythespacecowgirl @holdingforgeneralhugs @parajumpboots @hxad-ovxr-hxart @sleepisforcowards @suugrbunz @ax-elcfucker-blog @chaosklutz @mads-weasley @vibing-away @eightysix-baby @ithinkabouttzu
Contemporary: December 2nd, 1944. Resistance Safehouse, Signy-l’Abbaye, France.
Alix awoke to the sound of hushed voices in the hall.
Cracking a reluctant eye open, she reached for her knife just as the mantle clock chimed.
4 o'clock in the morning.
Splendid.
She must've dozed off waiting for their asset's arrival.
Silently easing herself off the couch, she crept towards the adjacent wall, her path just barely illuminated by a cool sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtains.
The voices were getting closer…
Alix relaxed instantly as she recognized her handler’s voice, dry bemusement drizzled over his every word like syrup.
"That’s all you brought, Picasso? One bag?"
There was a hearty chuckle from the darkness and then a second voice replied simply:
"They tell me pack light, I pack light."
The speaker's voice had a rather airy, almost nasal quality she hadn't heard before and a pleasant, rolling accent she couldn’t quite place.
Sheathing her knife, the spy subtly retreated to the sofa, managing to be seated just as the two men entered the room.
“Sorry we’re late, Runt,” Nixon remarked as he threw himself into his usual chair and propped his boot-clad feet up on the coffee table.
His gaze flickered over to their visitor and playfully raised his voice just loud enough for the other man to hear.
“Seems like the Spanish can’t keep to a schedule!”
"Next time, you hike the Pyrenees then, chaval," the diminutive newcomer retorted, a toothy grin appearing from underneath his scraggly beard as he removed a faded leather jacket and placed it delicately on the coat rack.
"And I will be the one to drink and complain. Besides, 'Más vale tarde que nunca', as my abuela always said."
As the asset dragged a chair from the kitchen and into the living room, Alix watched him blearily and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
He was supposed to be here at midnight, she thought with a pang of irritation. What had taken him so long?
The visitor-- Picasso, Nixon had called him-- was in his early thirties, disheveled in ill-fitting black fatigues covered in dirt and twigs, a dark cotton shirt nearly swallowing his frame whole.
Even in his beaten-in combat boots, he couldn'tve stood more than an inch taller than her and he was so slight that his clothing seemed to hang off him like the rucksack he had slung off one shoulder.
Noticing Alix's scrutinizing gaze, the visitor's smile only widened and the American spy observed a barely-visible gap between his two front teeth that reminded her vaguely of her baby cousin.
"You must be La Mariposa Negra," he noted brightly as he sat down, placing the canvas rucksack onto his lap with care.
"There is a poem in my country called that! Perhaps you have heard of it?”
“Unfortunately not,” Alix responded stiffly, still trying to figure out who on Earth this man was working for, why he was late, and why he was now sitting so casually in the living room of the safehouse as though he were part of the furniture.
“Ah, qué pena,” the Spaniard commented easily, still seeming far too cheery for the hour.
“But probably it will lose something in translation anyway."
From his chair, Nixon yawned lazily before gesturing to his protégé.
“Agent Martinelli, meet Cisco León Estrada of the Cantabria Maquis. He’ll be in town for a few days on special assignment.”
The Spaniard extended a gloved hand and they exchanged brief pleasantries before he began unpacking the canvas rucksack on his lap.
“We hear much about you on the radio, Mariposa,” he gushed as he placed two detail brushes onto the coffee table.
"How you make the Germans afraid. It will be an honor to work on you.”
Alix was instantly alert.
“On me?!”
"Correct,” Nixon commented from his place to her right, popping a caramel block into his mouth before going on:
"Cisco is a master of disguise. The SOE calls him Picasso for a reason."
“You are too kind, my friend," the Spaniard replied with a modest wave of his hand. “I have had much practice.”
"Donovan called him in for you personally, Runt,” her case officer garbled through a mouthful of candy.
“He’s going to get you– Well, ‘Tanya’ – ready for her big debut.”
A small vial of dark liquid was placed onto the wooden table top with a plink.
"Is that iodine?" Alix asked as she eyed the antiseptic nervously. “Somebody performing surgery?”
The two men exchanged glances.
"Yes" Nixon deadpanned at the same time Cisco answered with a light "No".
"Well as long as we're all in agreement," Alix snorted as the shorter man rose from his seat, scrutinizing Alix with a pensive gaze.
The former model recognized that look and remained still, patiently allowing the artist to work.
Mumbling to himself in Spanish, the Maquisard plucked absentmindedly at the bush of his beard for several minutes as he paced and studied her features, clearly trying to decide where to begin.
After a moment, he snapped his fingers.
"The eyes,” the Spaniard stated with a decisive nod. “Then teeth. Then hair.”
∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━∆∆━━━∆∆
Breaking an ankle during jump training hadn't been as miserable.
It had been one flash of pain when she'd collided with the ground and that was it. Mercifully, the bone had gone numb. Alix wished she could go numb now.
But instead, it felt like her scalp was being flooded with lava, each strand of hair being personally seared to the root by the peroxide Cisco was using.
She'd been sitting on the edge of the tub in a robe they'd pilfered for what felt like half an eternity, letting her stinging eyes wander the cramped bathroom.
The Spanish asset, Cisco, was standing by the counter, a needle-thin brush in hand as he painstakingly dabbed each pearly tooth of the mold with a thin film of iodine just dark enough to discolor them.
Every good agent knew the devil truly was in the details.
Eating with the wrong fork, a discontinued brand of cigarettes, a discarded receipt with a traceable bank number, even wearing a certain color too frequently could all spell disaster for an agent undercover behind enemy lines.
They couldn't afford to overlook anything; Alix's life would depend on it.
But even with Captain Nixon firing questions at her about her cover from his spot on the tile, all she could think about was the torturous burning sensation of her head and the dark blue colored contact lenses making her vision blur.
"Madonna mía, can I rinse it out yet?" she burst out finally, her fingers clenching onto the side of the tub as she tried to distract herself from the sizzling sting of the liquid seemingly seeping into every open pore.
"Please? Jesus Ch-"
"Only if you are wanting to lose half your hair," Cisco responded, his sharp eyes never wavering from his work.
"And I do not think you are wanting that."
"Where did you go to school, Tatiana?" Nixon quizzed her as he reached the third page of her cover's dossier.
Alix ignored him.
"How much longer?" she inquired and the Maquisard took a quick glance at his watch.
"Thirty more minutes, tía."
"Am I talking to myself?” Nixon complained loudly. “I said, 'Where did you go to school, Tati-'"
"It's Tanya," Alix snapped finally, dropping her voice to a lower, throatier pitch with a thick Russian accent.
"Only my mother calls me Tatiana. And I was trained at the Bolshoi Ballet Academy."
Her case officer didn't miss a beat.
"And your mother? Where did she train?"
A trick question.
"This is joke, yes?" the spy asserted, crossing her arms in front of her chest with an imperious toss of her head as she imagined a spoiled collaborationist socialite like Tanya would.
"We only train with the best. And the best have always been at the Bolshoi."
Captain Nixon gave a silent, grudging nod and Alix could see him fighting a smile at her performance.
"And your dad?" he prompted. "What's your old man do?"
"He is dignitary," she responded, the smoky quality of her lowered voice adding an extra layer of flippancy.
"That is all you need to know."
Nixon nodded his approval and drew a check mark in the margins of her dossier just as Cisco put the finishing touches on her false teeth and sat them on the counter to dry.
"I must get the, ah como se dice…El tinte– " He gestured frantically as he tried to summon the English term.
"Hair dye," Nixon supplied and the Spanish Maquisard nodded enthusiastically, scooting the large box toward himself.
"Sí, yes–" he said between grunts as he tried to pry the tightly-sealed packaging apart. "The dye! Hostia–"
With a huff of irritation, Cisco flicked a knife out from his boot and began to carve the box open to get to its contents.
“You would think–” he muttered in between laborious saws. “– they are hiding gold in here, when really, this– ”
With a final, swift cut, the Spanish operative was able to dip his hand inside and pull out a small package of Auburn Allure buried within layers of cardboard.
“– is all.”
“Dye’s hard to find these days,” Nixon commented as he shifted from the sink to the wall so Alix could finally rinse the peroxide from her hair.
“With shortages and all. Kathy’s always on about it.”
The cool rush of water on her scalp sent a shiver of relief washing through but when she flipped her hair back and looked into the mirror, Alix let out a yelp of horror at the ashen creature staring back at her.
“What did you DO?!” she shrieked as she clutched at the limp strands of her now ghastly-yellow hair.
Skip and Don were going to have a field-day with this.
“Hostia, I told you not to look yet,” Cisco scolded, swatting her hand away from her face.
“You will only scare yourself. Captain Nixon, the scissors porfa.”
Alix opened her mouth to respond but suddenly thought better of speaking sharply to a highly-trained operative with scissors now in hand.
“Not. One. Word." She growled in Nix’s direction and even though it obviously pained him, her case officer made a sarcastic zipper motion across his lips and turned back to her dossier while Alix continued to violently pantomime slitting his throat.
“Ignore him,” Estrada uttered sympathetically, swiping a portion of her bleached hair to the side and clipping it.
“We are not even halfway finished. You must trust me, vale?”
Alix sighed hopelessly and rubbed her stinging eyes again as the operative took the scissors to her beloved hair.
“Vale.”
∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━∆∆━━━∆∆
Within a couple hours, Alix had gotten used to the contact lenses and even the uncomfortable dental façade that shifted her jawline but she was still getting used to the overall person staring back at her in the mirror.
The haircut and bangs suited her face surprisingly well but being a bleach blonde did not. Luckily, the Spanish operative had a plan to fix that too.
“Damn Cisco,” Alix remarked in a tone tinged with envy as she watched him combine ingredients like an expert chemist.
"You can do hair, you can paint, you can take a dental impression, you can kill a man in probably at least 5 different ways, is there anything you can’t do?”
The Spaniard contemplated the question as he vigorously shook the bottle of dye.
“Maths,” he declared after a moment’s pause.
“When I was in university, I always struggle in Maths. Painting a scene from memory, no problem, but you ask me to solve a complicated equation? This I cannot do.”
“What did you end up studying while you were in college?” Alix inquired curiously as he began to apply the deep burgundy dye into her hair with patient strokes.
“Art,” was the wistful reply, his hand faltering slightly with his fading smile.
“But I leave university when the Guerra Civil starts… My little brother and I, we fight in the war. I make it out…Diego does not.”
“I’m so sorry,” Alix whispered, instinctively reaching to touch her rosary.
She knew the ache of that loss all too well.
“How did you end up in the intelligence game?” Captain Nixon asked, finding his voice.
In the mirror, she could see a shadow cross Cisco’s face.
“I go home to Cantabria. I see what Franco has done to mi pueblo…mi gente… mis amigos… Everywhere you look, there is death."
He swallowed hard.
“That is why I no longer go by my first name... Francisco.” He spat the word like a bitter curse.
“After what I have seen…All of the things he has done to good people, all of the things he is doing to mi amada patria…I cannot stand –”
His voice broke and he cut himself off, lapsing into a tense silence.
After a moment, he gritted his teeth and soldiered on.
“So I put down my brushes… I pick up my guns and I go to the mountains, I join the Maquis. Then the SOE, they reach out to me. They hear of my background. They want to train me in disguise and–”
He finished brushing in the dye and made a half-hearted gesture with the brush as if to say Voila, here I am.
“Bueno, what about you? Why intelligence? I am curious.”
Alix took a deep breath and shifted anxiously in her seat.
What reason could she give? There was only one reason she had stuck with the OSS for so long, only one reason she hadn’t quit the spy game long before.
This operative had just poured out his whole life story to her and she couldn’t even say a name?
“M-My brother,” she forced out, surprised at how brittle her voice sounded as the words tumbled out.
“He, um…He was a Navy lieutenant. He shouldn’tve been there that morning, on the ship, but –”
She took a shuddering breath, the words feeling like sawdust in her mouth as she slowly continued.
“– But he'd stayed the night to mediate some stupid squabble. So he was with his men that morning on the Arizona when…when–”
She shook her head, unwilling to give voice to the awful words, but she didn't have to.
"Entiendo por lo que estás pasando," Cisco intoned sympathetically as he began painting dye onto another section of her hair. "We have both lost much and it drives us here, to make a difference."
"Definitely. I tried to join the Women's Army Corps first," she admitted. "But I don’t take orders well. So suffice it to say, my superiors and I didn’t exactly get along.”
She looked over at Captain Nixon, expecting some sort of quip but he appeared to be studying the pristine white tile, so she went on:
"Luckily, Director Donovan was looking for the headstrong type and knew my father personally, so he asked if I would be interested. And--”
She shrugged, trying and failing to keep her tone light.
“Here I am.”
"Bueno," Cisco chuckled. “My wife, Yessenia, has a favorite saying: 'Pan con pan, comida de tontos'.”
Alix's brows knit in confusion.
“‘Bread with bread'…?”
“A ver, it loses something in translation,” the Spanish operative expressed with another breezy laugh. “Es como...all the same is boring, no? It is good to be different.”
Captain Nixon was strangely quiet throughout the course of the conversation and Alix stole another furtive glance in his direction.
The intelligence officer was taking a sip from his flask with a hollow stare straight past her, at the wall.
He was the odd one out, she realized, and he knew it.
The only one of them who hadn’t lost anything…or anyone.
It suddenly dawned on Alix that she had never known why he had joined the Airborne to begin with or why he had agreed to become a case officer. She never knew why he was so strict with her but lackadaisical when it came to everyone else.
To be frank with herself, Alix realized she had never thought to ask. Even if she had, she reasoned, would he have given her a real answer? Probably not.
But now that everyone else was opening up too, perhaps he just might.
"Hey Nix--" she started and it was almost like her case officer sensed that she was about to inquire seriously about a topic he was loath to discuss because he hurried to cut her off.
“Say, you two mind if I turn on the radio?”
“Madonna mia, you’ve got to be kidding,” Alix groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation before adopting a gruff, mocking tone.
“What happened to ‘no radio for the month, Runt. It's not safe’?!”
“Well first of all," Nixon noted dryly, already exiting the bathroom to retrieve the contraband. "That impression of me could use some work!"
Moments later, he reappeared, radio in hand, and plopped it onto the bathroom counter.
"And second of all," he finished with a self-satisfied smirk at the look of indignance on Alix's face. "Since we’re leaving tonight, HQ gave the okay."
Before the young agent could respond, the saccharine voice of one of Germany's most notorious propagandists came wafting over the crackling airwaves.
“–the Andrews Sisters singing ‘Pistol Packin Mama’. GIs sure love girls and guns, don’t you? Is that why some of you are lending your aid to The Black Butterfly?"
Axis Sally let out a girlish giggle so malicious that it made the spy’s blood run cold and she exchanged worried glances with Nixon, whose expression had darkened instantly.
How did Berlin know she was getting help from American soldiers?!
Where were they getting such detailed information?
Even Cisco blanched as the announcer’s words set in, the dye brush slipping from his grasp and clattering to the floor, deep red splattering across the tile.
“You are smart men," Sally purred coquettishly, somehow sounding more threatening than if she had been yelling.
"Surely you realize you’re backing the wrong horse. After all, do you know how easy it is to kill a butterfly?”
There was a brief pause and then another chime of haunting laughter as the infamous announcer answered her own query:
“All you have to do is catch it.”
#Guess who's back back again#this one was so research-heavy but I wanted to be sure it was accurate#ayee#Cisco Estrada is my son & yes I adore him#he is so babygirl#Anywayyyy#Lowkey this one got hella dark lol#Lewis Nixon#Alix Martinelli#Cisco Estrada#BoB#FireOnFire#FireOnFireChapters#Lewis Nixon x Reader#Band of Brothers fandom#Band of Brothers fanfiction#Band of Brothers fanfic#HBO War#HBO War fandom#HBO War fanfiction#Band of Brothers OC#F!OC x Joe Liebgott#HBO War fanfic#Espionage fanfic#Let's see if Tumblr lets me post this or not lol
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wtf was that about?? 😭 just in case whatever asshat said that made you feel bad at all: i have this strange thing where i can smell things that arent really there, like whenever i open my gallery on my phone ill start smelling old books or leather. idk if this makes tou feel any better, but whenever i visit your blog i get a pleasant earthy smell with a bit of chocolate covered cherries! (which is a bit ironic considering in your wolf form you probably couldnt ingest chocolate,,? TwT) but anyway- i hope that anon didnt get you down, some people reslly just love to be rude for not apparent reason. love your blog! <3
thank you!! youre so sweet! it didnt get to me , it was really random though, i dont know where it came from! thats so nice though! earthy and chocolate covered cherries, i love that! thank you for the nice words i appreciate it <33
#canineluvz.asks#wolf form and chocolate probably wouldn’t go well together#witch is ironic because although i love sweets and chocolate they do actually upset my stomach
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Eloise Montgomery
Aspiration: Soulmate
Traits:
Cheerful
Romantic
Loves Outdoors
My username on the gallery is Corynn_Becca.
Here is the cc I used:
Skin Overlay, Face Overlay, Face Shadow, Eyebags, Nose Mask, 2nd Nose Mask, Pores, Miscellaneous Face Details, Dimples, Teeth (You need to download both), Highlight & Eyelid Shimmer, Definition Overlay, Eyes, Eye Sclera Shadow, Eyelashes, Eyebrows, Eyebrow Slider, Eyeshadow, Eyeliner, Blush, Lipstick, Add On Gloss, Hairline, Nails
(Everyday)
Hair, Necklace, Dress, Shoes (Platform Sandals 07)
(Formal)
Hair, Eyelashes, Eyeshadow, Eyeliner, Headband, Earrings, Dress, Shoes (Platform Leather Pumps 01)
(Active)
Hair, Top, Pants, Shoes (Platform Sneakers 03)
(Sleep)
Top, Shorts, Shoes
(Party)
Earrings & Necklaces, Top & Skirt, Shoes (Suede Lace-Up Flats 01)
(Swim)
Bikini
(Hot Weather)
Top, Shorts, Shoes (Low Top Leather Sneaker 01-V01)
(Cold Weather)
Hat, Outfit, Shoes
@sims3melancholic @lamatisse @gorillax3-cc @jius-sims @eunosims @obscurus-sims @okruee @pralinesims @simandy @goppolsme @golyhawhaw @asansan3 @backtrack-cc @ratboysims @laupipi-blog @busra-tr @christopher067 @nesurii
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Hi everyone! 👋😊 I am doing something a little bit out of my comfort zone today in sharing this photo of me, but I just loved how my senior photos turned out (thank you to my amazingly talented sister for taking them) and did not want to keep them all to myself.
I could have chosen to hold any book, but I specifically decided to pose with @thechloegong ’s adult debut because her transition from writing young adult literature to adult literature closely mirrors my own transition from living life as a young adult to an adult upon my graduation from college next month. “Immortal Longings” also happens to be one of my favorite books of all time, so there’s that too. 😂
In honor of my senior photos, I am reposting my review of “Immortal Longings” from January!
Thank you to Gallery / Saga Press and Chloe Gong for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
✩🩸🌙 Review: Gong makes a name for herself as an adult fantasy writer with her explosive debut “Immortal Longings.”
As with her other works, Gong draws inspiration for her novel from Shakespeare—specifically from his play “Antony and Cleopatra” in this instance. Her fictional world encompassing the the kingdom of Talin’s capital twin cities, San-Er, closely resembles Kowloon Walled City— an ungoverned and lawless territory that was once the most crowded place on Earth. Though the walled city was demolished in real life, Gong keeps its memory alive in her writing through her intricate world-building and descriptive prose.
Gong completely leans into the fantasy genre with “Immortal Longings,” which I thoroughly enjoyed. She establishes that those who have a strong qui are able to jump between bodies. This ability is crucial to the people of San-Er’s survival, as the twin cities have high rates of prostitution, gambling, and drug abuse. Additionally, jumping is beneficial to those competing in the King’s Games—a series of games hosted by the monarch of Talon where 88 citizens fight to the death to win unimaginable riches. The reader is able to alternate between the perspectives of two of the king’s players: Princess Calla Tuoleimi and Anton Makusa.
Princess Calla is a fierce cat lady who rocks bangs and leather jackets. She killed her own parents (the former rulers of Er) to bring down the monarchy, is no stranger around a sword, and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. After years of hiding, she enters the games in secret, dead set on finishing the job she started by killing King Kasa—the ruler of San. Her chance meeting with Anton, however, throws a wrench in her plans.
Anton is a master jumper who was exiled from his life as an aristocrat. If he wins, he hopes to use the winnings to pay off the debt he owes to the hospital for keeping his childhood love alive while she is in a coma. While she is the one to give Anton’s life direction, Calla is the one to give it purpose.
On their own, Calla and Anton were merely surviving, but together, in their unexpected alliance, they find a way to live. The spark that develops between them reaches a fever pitch leading up to Gong’s first steamy scene, which is as violent as it is delightful.
Aside from Calla and Anton’s points-of-view, Gong supplies the reader with chapters written from August, Pampi, and Yilas’ viewpoints. Through them, we learn of every betrayal, deception, and ruse. Despite this and knowing in advance that “Antony and Cleopatra” is a Shakespearean tragedy, nothing could have prepared me for the whiplash I experienced at the end of “Immortal Longings.” I’m afraid my heart won’t stop pounding until I get book two of the “Flesh and False Gods” series in my hands.
➤ 5 stars
Cross-posted to: Instagram | Amazon | Goodreads | StoryGraph
@chloegong @simonandschusterbooks-blog
#immortal longings#flesh and false gods#calla tuoleimi#anton makusa#anton and calla#august shenzhi#otta avia#chloe gong#enemies to lovers#forbidden love#multiple povs#morally grey characters#shakespeare retelling#adult fantasy#fantasy romance#booklr#book blog#book blogger#book review#book rec#adult books
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Your adventure begins here, ALLIE. It’s dangerous to go alone! Before starting your journey, make sure to FOLLOW OUR STARTER BLOG, and go over THIS CHECKLIST! You have 48 HOURS to post in-character and send in your blog to the main.
(adeline rudolph, she/her, cursed blood) to [NAKSU], the whole world looks like an open page. with a leap of faith, their ability of [SOUL SHIFTING] grows a little stronger. they are a [SILVER NINE TAILED FOX] shade aligned to [NO ONE]. for [TWENTY NINE] years, they have survived a world of magic with both their [TENACITY] and [RIGIDNESS]. they work as a [ASSASSIN], but if they could change their fate, they’d want to [GO BACK IN TIME AND FIX THEIR CHANGING]. (allie, 23, she/her, GMT -3)
(kim sieun, she/her, spirit warrior) to [JIN MIYEON], the whole world looks like an open page. with a leap of faith, their ability of [SOUL SHIFTING] grows a little stronger. they’re pledged to the [HOUSE BELTRAN] to defend the enchanted lands of cagliostro with their [BLUE COVERED GEMS AND LEATHER BOUND SWOARD]. for [TWENTY] years, they have survived a world of magic with both their [KINDNESS] and [NAIVETY]. they work as a [ART GALLERY CURATOR], but if they could change their fate, they’d want to [BREAK FREE] (allie, 23, she/her, GMT-3)
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How can vintage and modern elements be blended in interior space design?
Title: Timeless Fusion: Blending Vintage and Modern Elements in Interior Space Design
Interior space design is an ever-evolving canvas where the interplay of contrasting styles often results in a harmonious and visually appealing aesthetic. Combining vintage and modern elements is a design approach that brings a unique and timeless charm to any space. In this blog post, we explore creative strategies to seamlessly blend vintage and modern elements, creating interiors that reflect the best of both worlds.
1. Establish a Unified Color Palette:
Harmonizing vintage and modern elements begins with a cohesive color palette. Selecting a unified range of colors helps bridge the gap between eras. Consider neutral tones or muted hues as a foundation, allowing accent colors to pop and showcase the distinctive features of both vintage and modern pieces.
2. Balance with Contrasting Textures:
Achieve a harmonious blend by balancing contrasting textures. Vintage elements often feature warm, tactile textures like aged wood or distressed leather, while modern design leans towards sleek surfaces and metallic finishes. Incorporating both creates a tactile richness that adds depth and interest to the overall design.
3. Combine Signature Furniture Pieces:
Choose key furniture pieces that represent both vintage and modern design aesthetics. For instance, pair a mid-century modern sofa with a vintage coffee table or juxtapose a contemporary dining table with vintage chairs. This intentional mixing of eras creates a curated look that showcases the distinct characteristics of each style.
4. Integrate Vintage Accessories:
Incorporate vintage accessories to infuse character into modern spaces. Items like antique mirrors, classic lamps, or retro artwork serve as focal points, contributing a touch of history and nostalgia. The key is to carefully curate and integrate these accessories to complement rather than overwhelm the overall design.
5. Modernize Vintage Patterns:
Update vintage patterns to give them a fresh, modern twist. Consider reupholstering vintage chairs with contemporary fabrics or incorporating geometric patterns that seamlessly bridge the gap between retro and modern aesthetics. This approach maintains the charm of vintage patterns while infusing a contemporary edge.
6. Focus on Lighting Design:
Lighting plays a pivotal role in interior design, and blending vintage and modern elements in lighting fixtures can be transformative. Opt for modern, minimalist fixtures paired with vintage-inspired pendants or chandeliers. The juxtaposition of styles in lighting creates a captivating visual dynamic within the space.
7. Mix Art Styles:
Artwork is an excellent medium to merge vintage and modern elements. Hang a gallery wall featuring a mix of contemporary art alongside vintage prints or paintings. This curated combination adds personality and a sense of eclectic sophistication to the overall design.
8. Embrace Open Shelving:
Open shelving provides a versatile platform to showcase a blend of vintage and modern decor. Display a collection of vintage ceramics alongside contemporary art pieces or modern sculptures. The open and curated nature of the shelves allows for a seamless integration of diverse design elements.
9. Consider Statement Rugs:
Rugs are a powerful design element that can tie together diverse styles. Choose a statement rug that incorporates both vintage patterns and modern colors. This unifying element anchors the space and adds a layer of visual interest to the overall design.
10. Thoughtful Space Planning:
Effective space planning is essential when blending vintage and modern elements. Arrange furniture and décor items in a way that allows each piece to shine without overwhelming the space. Thoughtful spacing ensures a balanced and visually cohesive interior.
In conclusion, the art of blending vintage and modern elements in interior space design is about striking a delicate balance between the old and the new. By focusing on a unified color palette, balancing textures, integrating signature furniture pieces, and thoughtfully incorporating vintage accessories, designers can create spaces that tell a rich and timeless design story. The fusion of eras adds depth, personality, and a sense of curated elegance to interiors, resulting in a living space that transcends trends and stands the test of time. One can achieve these by getting in touch with the renowned design and build firm such as Flipspaces, who can help you with the same.
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10 Timeless Interior Design Trends That Never Go Out of Style
Introduction
Interior design is an ever-evolving field, with trends coming and going. However, some design elements stand the test of time, becoming timeless classics that continue to inspire and elevate spaces. Whether you're revamping your home or starting from scratch, incorporating these timeless interior design trends can add sophistication and elegance to any space.
Neutral Color Palettes: Neutral tones like whites, creams, grays, and beiges create a timeless and versatile backdrop for any room. They provide a sense of calmness and allow other elements in the room to shine.
Natural Materials: Incorporating natural materials such as wood, stone, and leather adds warmth and texture to a space. These materials age beautifully and never go out of style.
Minimalist Design: Less is often more in interior design. Embracing minimalist design principles with clean lines, uncluttered spaces, and a focus on functionality creates a timeless and elegant look.
Vintage and Antique Pieces: Mixing in vintage or antique furniture and decor items adds character and history to a space. These pieces add a sense of uniqueness and timelessness to your design.
Statement Lighting: Investing in statement lighting fixtures, such as chandeliers or pendant lights, can instantly elevate the ambiance of a room. Opt for timeless designs that complement your overall aesthetic.
Quality Fabrics: Choose high-quality fabrics like linen, wool, and silk for upholstery, curtains, and cushions. These fabrics not only look luxurious but also stand the test of time in terms of durability and style.
Functional Furniture: Opt for furniture pieces that are both stylish and functional. Multi-purpose furniture like storage ottomans, extendable dining tables, and modular sofas add practicality without compromising on style.
Indoor Plants: Bringing nature indoors with indoor plants not only adds a refreshing touch but also promotes a sense of well-being. Choose low-maintenance plants that suit your space and aesthetic.
Timeless Artwork: Invest in artwork that speaks to you and complements your interior design style. Classic art pieces or contemporary artworks with enduring appeal can be focal points in your home.
Personalized Touches: Lastly, don't forget to add personal touches that reflect your personality and interests. Whether it's family photos, travel souvenirs, or heirloom pieces, these elements make your space unique and timeless.
Conclusion
By these timeless interior design trends, you can create a space that remains stylish and inviting for years to come. Remember to blend these trends with your unique taste to achieve a personalized and timeless aesthetic.
For more Interior design decor ideas and trends, explore our curated collection of articles and inspiration galleries. Whether you're redesigning a living room, bedroom, or kitchen, find inspiration that suits your style and elevates your home decor game
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I have found this just chilling in my drafts and well who doesn't want more of me bitching about Jason's design (2 of these are literally just that but hey there's some there that's not)
I likely have way more controversial opinions than this but considering this has been laying in my drafts unfinished for a few weeks now I can't be bothered thinking of more to add to here you go.
_____________________________________
Want more ot my controversial DC Comics (mostly Batman) takes? No? Too bad this is my blog.
Red head Jason Todd is a crime against humanity and fans who call for its return can eat my shoe. Jason's designs in DC Rebirth, Under the Red Hood movie and the Arkham series are all perfect blueprints for what Jason Todd should always look like. I don't need them to turn him into a Roy Harper clone (especially not now that Roy is literally one of Jason's best friends). Also the argument that red head Jason is canon bothers me since the origin in which he had red hair was quite quickly retconned and every version of Jason's actual canon origin story he's always had black or dark brown hair in it.
Wonder Woman is the actual darkest and most violent of the Trinity because she can and will go to places and do things Batman or Superman will not. That doesn't make them worse characters than her but the idea that Batman is the dark, gritty one is laughable when Diana will snap a man's neck. Diana has literally went to war, she has seen and done things her colleagues could only imagine.
Harley Quinn is not the most deserving of Batman's rogues gallery for a redemption arc and let's all be real if she wasn't attractive with a sad backstory she wouldn't be constantly being pushed in both the mainstream and the comics as more of an antihero than a villain. Mr Freeze and Poison Ivy are both better contenders for antihero status but they've both been tainted in the mainstream by the Schumacher film.
Back to bitching about bad Jason Todd designs but eh Red Hood should ALWAYS have a helmet. None of this half mask/domino mask bullshit with an actual hood up. The only time a Red Hood design with an actual hood up has looked good was Arkham. The peak Red Hood design is brown leather jacket, tactical vest underneath with red bat symbol, gun holsters in a similar colour to his jacket, military grade trousers with knee and shin guards, boots to match the jacket AND A RED HELMET. More New52/Early DC Rebirth Outlaws design and less Gotham Wars please and thank you.
Barbara Gordon should never have returned to being Batgirl. Now listen I love Babs, the Gotham Knights quartet of Dick, Babs, Jason and Tim are arguably my favourite group of characters in DC comics. But Babs as Oracle was iconic, I'm aware she's still doing her work as Oracle alongside Batgirl but I don't like that, it's making her juggle too much. Babs as Oracle almost put her on an equal or even greater standing than Bruce within the Bat Family. Like ok he was the patriarch of the Family, he started it but Babs RAN it, nothing got done in that family without Oracle's say so. And I just felt that her being paralysed by the Joker, yet still finding a way to work around her injury and continue to help fight crime in her own way, a way only she could was very empowering. Barbara Gordon was the role model young girls needed and while she is still that as Batgirl I think it was just that little bit more impactful as just Oracle.
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To begin this Blog I Shall firstly look into and asses the previous exhibitions and promotional activities I have been involved with in the past, as I believe this is an effective way to understand how to move forward with this module and with the promotion of my work in general.
The website above detail the BadRoom gallery a one person social distanced art Gallery i set up during the Covid lockdowns of 2020 and 2021.
This Project was about making the most of the situation in creative way. it involved a fund raising exercise conducted on social media to fund the space and provide a donation SMHA (Scottish mental health association)
The gallery was constructed in a box room within my Glasgow flat. This part of the flat had previously been water damaged and allowed for a whole change and reconfiguration of the space.
Walls where Painted white and the floor was covered with oak laminate and moveable spotlights were fitted, this along with the introduction of Italian style leather bench created a sort of white cube gallery aesthetic.
During the time the gallery was open there were several visits an opening night for the second exhibition ( The Benefactors ) all detailed on the Gallery website (link Above)
In essence this was really a just a bit of fun and a way to fill some of my time during the lockdown. However I did rase a reasonable sum for SMHA an organisation close to my heart.
I feel this whole exercise has Given me a valuable insight into what is involved in the curation and running of a Gallery space, even if on a far smaller scale than any other gallery i've been to.
During the second exhibition title the benefactors a collection of works from friends fellow artist and photographers as well as family where brought together and displayed in what I consider to have been a fairly professional way, taking time to set the elements of the exhibition within the small space, giving me some insight into curation and displaying of others work.
Instagram page of he Badroom gallery in link above
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Luxury In Every Detail: Embrace Elegance With A Leather Accent Chair
Speak the language of luxury by stepping into the world of furniture. The transformational potential of a leather accent chair is something that should be considered in the process of designing an excellent living environment. These chairs are more than just practical; they exemplify classic elegance that beautifully combines comfort and style. If you are looking for these elegant leather accent chairs, Then you are at the right place. At The Higher Gallery, you will get premium quality leather accent chairs. As we learn more about interior design, the appeal of leather becomes clear. It's a material that not only looks good but also improves the atmosphere of any space. Let's continue reading the blog and explore our variety of leather accent chairs with features. This will be a trip where comfort and craftsmanship meet.
Bring a Luxurious Leather Accent Chair to your space with The Higher Gallery.
The Higher Gallery offers An accent chair made of leather that is more than simply a piece of furniture; it's a declaration of taste, style, and classic appeal. These chairs provide a sophisticated touch and become centerpieces in your study, living, or bedroom. Let's discuss it all one by one read more.
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How can vintage and modern elements be blended in interior space design?
Title: Timeless Fusion: Blending Vintage and Modern Elements in Interior Space Design
Interior space design is an ever-evolving canvas where the interplay of contrasting styles often results in a harmonious and visually appealing aesthetic. Combining vintage and modern elements is a design approach that brings a unique and timeless charm to any space. In this blog post, we explore creative strategies to seamlessly blend vintage and modern elements, creating interiors that reflect the best of both worlds.
1. Establish a Unified Color Palette:
Harmonizing vintage and modern elements begins with a cohesive color palette. Selecting a unified range of colors helps bridge the gap between eras. Consider neutral tones or muted hues as a foundation, allowing accent colors to pop and showcase the distinctive features of both vintage and modern pieces.
2. Balance with Contrasting Textures:
Achieve a harmonious blend by balancing contrasting textures. Vintage elements often feature warm, tactile textures like aged wood or distressed leather, while modern design leans towards sleek surfaces and metallic finishes. Incorporating both creates a tactile richness that adds depth and interest to the overall design.
3. Combine Signature Furniture Pieces:
Choose key furniture pieces that represent both vintage and modern design aesthetics. For instance, pair a mid-century modern sofa with a vintage coffee table or juxtapose a contemporary dining table with vintage chairs. This intentional mixing of eras creates a curated look that showcases the distinct characteristics of each style.
4. Integrate Vintage Accessories:
Incorporate vintage accessories to infuse character into modern spaces. Items like antique mirrors, classic lamps, or retro artwork serve as focal points, contributing a touch of history and nostalgia. The key is to carefully curate and integrate these accessories to complement rather than overwhelm the overall design.
5. Modernize Vintage Patterns:
Update vintage patterns to give them a fresh, modern twist. Consider reupholstering vintage chairs with contemporary fabrics or incorporating geometric patterns that seamlessly bridge the gap between retro and modern aesthetics. This approach maintains the charm of vintage patterns while infusing a contemporary edge.
6. Focus on Lighting Design:
Lighting plays a pivotal role in interior design, and blending vintage and modern elements in lighting fixtures can be transformative. Opt for modern, minimalist fixtures paired with vintage-inspired pendants or chandeliers. The juxtaposition of styles in lighting creates a captivating visual dynamic within the space.
7. Mix Art Styles:
Artwork is an excellent medium to merge vintage and modern elements. Hang a gallery wall featuring a mix of contemporary art alongside vintage prints or paintings. This curated combination adds personality and a sense of eclectic sophistication to the overall design.
8. Embrace Open Shelving:
Open shelving provides a versatile platform to showcase a blend of vintage and modern decor. Display a collection of vintage ceramics alongside contemporary art pieces or modern sculptures. The open and curated nature of the shelves allows for a seamless integration of diverse design elements.
9. Consider Statement Rugs:
Rugs are a powerful design element that can tie together diverse styles. Choose a statement rug that incorporates both vintage patterns and modern colors. This unifying element anchors the space and adds a layer of visual interest to the overall design.
10. Thoughtful Space Planning:
Effective space planning is essential when blending vintage and modern elements. Arrange furniture and decor items in a way that allows each piece to shine without overwhelming the space. Thoughtful spacing ensures a balanced and visually cohesive interior.
In conclusion, the art of blending vintage and modern elements in interior space design is about striking a delicate balance between the old and the new. By focusing on a unified color palette, balancing textures, integrating signature furniture pieces, and thoughtfully incorporating vintage accessories, designers can create spaces that tell a rich and timeless design story. The fusion of eras adds depth, personality, and a sense of curated elegance to interiors, resulting in a living space that transcends trends and stands the test of time. One can achieve these by getting in touch with the renowned design and build firm such as Flipspaces, who can help you with the same.
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Netflix made an educational history show. Let's assess the clothes 👀 (ft Lilla Crawford)
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⤠ SOURCES ⤟
[1] British painter. 1572. Portrait of Walter Devereux (1539–1576), First Earl of Essex. Oil on Wood. New York, NY. Metropolitan Museum of Art. https://ift.tt/bmw1suL.
[2] Osterkamp, Peggy. 2013. “What Is Velvet and How It Is Made? (Part One).” Peggy Osterkamp’s Weaving Blog. November 2, 2013. https://ift.tt/K5hUm8v.
[3] After Hans Holbein the Younger. c. 1537. Portrait of Henry VIII. Oil on Canvas. Liverpool, UK. Walker Art Gallery. https://ift.tt/ODiM0Se.
[4] Pickering, Henry. 1741. Sir Wolstan Dixie (1700–1767), 4th Bt, Market Bosworth. Oil on Canvas. Nottingham, UK. Nottingham City Museums & Galleries. https://ift.tt/1SanJr5.
[5] Royal Ontario Museum. 2013. “A Pair of 18th Century French Panniers Arrives at the ROM!” Royal Ontario Museum. September 13, 2013. https://ift.tt/gM3DuGN.
[6] Gautier-Dagoty, Jean-Baptiste-André. 1775. Marie Antoinette, Queen of France (1755-1793). Oil on Canvas. Versailles, France. Palace of Versailles. https://ift.tt/19biAtS.
[7] Unknown artist, European. c. 1770. Portrait of a Lady Holding an Orange Blossom. Oil on Canvas. Ontario, Canada. Art Gallery of Ontario. https://ift.tt/ViANtSW.
[8] Unknown photographer. c. 1850. Emma Gurney (1803-1860). Photograph. Durham, UK. Darlington Centre for Local Studies. https://ift.tt/e1UKwS2.
[9] Unknown photographer. c.1900. Woman with Straw Hat. Photograph. Private Collection. https://ift.tt/UMqskN5.
[10] Wirth, Frederick. 1860. Two Children and Woman. Carte-de-visite Photograph. Seattle, WA. University of Washington Libraries, Special Collections. https://ift.tt/FeHCdiy.
[11] Unknown illustrator. 1887. Susan B. Anthony. History of Woman Suffrage Volume 1 Edited by Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, Matilda Joslyn Gage. https://ift.tt/7PS6k9s.
[12] Purtich, Kirstin. n.d. “Thomson Cage Crinoline.” Bard Graduate Center. https://ift.tt/2FeB5rz.
[13] N. Currier. 1851. The Bloomer Costume. Lithograph Print. Washington, D.C. Library of Congress. https://ift.tt/acn6Ovs.
[14] Unknown artist. c. 1855. Amelia Bloomer. Chromolithograph. Encyclopædia Britannica. https://ift.tt/uVIUh7z.
[15] Hilliard, Nicholas. 1598. Elizabeth I (1533–1603). Oil on Canvas. Derbyshire, UK. Hardwick Hall. https://ift.tt/xpBTVkR.
[16] Unknown maker. 1603. Corset from Elizabeth I’s Wax Effigy. London, UK. Westminster Abbey. https://ift.tt/QNvG4XA.
[17] Unknown maker. 1601-1800. Orthopaedic Corset to Fit Adult Male. Iron, Leather. London, UK. Wellcome Collection. https://ift.tt/KHp2WZ3.
[18] Gheeraerts the Younger, Marcus. 1592. Queen Elizabeth I (“The Ditchley Portrait”). Oil on Canvas. London, UK. National Portrait Gallery. https://ift.tt/Y9fr7jV.
[19] Unknown artist, English. 1588. Queen Elizabeth I. Oil on Panel. London, UK. National Portrait Gallery. https://ift.tt/oHKTCiX.
[20] Unknown maker, English. 1750-1780. Woman’s Corset. Linen Twill and Baleen. Los Angeles, CA. Los Angeles County Museum of Art. https://ift.tt/9xTfnGb.
[21] Unknown maker, Spanish. Late 16th Century. Verdugado. Linen, Reed. Zamora, Spain. Museo Etnográfico de Castilla y León. https://ift.tt/7shLGEQ.
[22] Rabel, Daniel. 1626. The Royal Ballet of the Dowager of Bilbao’s Grand Ball. Pen and Black ink, Watercolour. Paris, France. Musée du Louvre. https://ift.tt/9udOgzV.
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Some knowledge about cricket
Introduction:
Welcome to the captivating realm of Cricket, often hailed as the gentleman's game—a sport that transcends borders, cultures, and generations. This blog takes a deep dive into the enchanting world of cricket, unraveling its storied history, the exhilarating thrill of the game, and its enduring influence on fans across the globe.
Section 1: The Ballet of Willow and Leather
Cricket is a ballet of willow and leather, a harmonious yet fiercely competitive spectacle played out on fields that span continents. From the iconic cricket grounds of Lord’s in London to the bustling stadiums of Mumbai, each match stands as a testament to the spirit of sportsmanship and camaraderie.
Subsection 1.1: Origins and Evolution
The roots of cricket trace back to the 16th century, evolving from a rustic pastime into a global phenomenon. Delve into the transformation of cricket equipment, playing styles, and the emergence of different formats, from the timeless Test matches to the electrifying T20s.
Subsection 1.2: Icons of the Game
No exploration of cricket is complete without paying homage to the icons who have graced the field. From Sir Don Bradman's impeccable technique to Sachin Tendulkar’s unparalleled records, we celebrate the players who have become synonymous with cricketing greatness.
Section 2: The Symphony of Cheers and Roars
Step into a cricket stadium, and you'll be greeted by the symphony of cheers and roars—a cacophony of excitement that unites fans in their shared passion for the game.
Subsection 2.1: Cricketing Cultures
Cricket is more than a sport; it is a reflection of diverse cultures and traditions. Explore the unique rituals, chants, and celebrations that accompany cricket matches worldwide, from the spirited tunes of the Barmy Army to the sea of blue at an Indian cricket stadium.
Subsection 2.2: Unforgettable Moments
Cricket is a treasure trove of unforgettable moments, from last-ball thrillers to historic milestones. Relive the heart-stopping finishes, jaw-dropping catches, and emotional highs and lows that make cricket a rollercoaster of emotions.
Section 3: Beyond the Boundary
Cricket's impact extends beyond the boundary ropes, influencing societies, sparking conversations, and fostering a sense of community among fans.
Subsection 3.1: Cricket and Culture
Discover how cricket has woven itself into the fabric of various cultures, influencing art, literature, and even politics. From Bollywood movies centered around cricket to cricket-inspired paintings adorning galleries, the sport's cultural significance is undeniable.
Subsection 3.2: Cricket as a Unifier
In a world often divided, cricket has a unique ability to unify. Explore instances where cricket has served as a bridge between nations, fostering diplomatic ties and creating moments of shared joy and sportsmanship.
Conclusion:
As we conclude our journey through the cricketing cosmos, one truth becomes evident: cricket is not merely a sport; it's a narrative that unfolds on a grassy stage, captivating millions with its elegance, unpredictability, and unifying spirit. Whether you're a seasoned cricket enthusiast or a newcomer to the game, the cricketing world welcomes you to witness the magic that continues to define this remarkable sport.
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