Minyard-Josten BIOMY Home
This one is the most canon-compliant to the fic I could make it, going back a bunch of times to the flashback chapter where they first bought it and adding the extra rooms they mentioned wanting. Yes, it's extra big. Mostly because I had to fit two bathrooms with enormous bathtubs and Andreil's ridiculously big bed. It was super fun to build!
Individual posts for each house: [The Villa] [Aaron+Katelyn] [Allison+Renee] [Matt+Dan] [Kevin+Thea] [photoshoot]
(All images should be with good res to zoom in)
First detail I wanted to point out is the move of their chairs from the back porch to the front. Because the back now goes into the shared ring I felt they would enjoy more the privacy of the woods around the villa :)
It's mentioned many times how the downstairs rooms are weird and skinny because they closed the floor plan, and anytime you see a funky tile, blame it on the kids (foyer has Nat's water-like one)! Also, no white walls, keeping lighter colors on the down-stairs and darker upstairs.
Living room opens to a huge cat tree because they're spoiled. There's also much more decoration thanks to the art classes and the kids pressuring them to put more pictures out. (you can see them up close on the photoshoot link in the beginning of the post). The pictures include the twins at Nicky's wedding and the pict Dan sent them, and you can see grey and blue bouquets Andreil got each other <3
I can't actually change window glass colors but we know they're all colorful.
Ok, I know, but there's only so much you can do when the characters decide they must have fox-orange cabinets. There was an empty wall so they let Nat and Paige add some trees.
Yes. This is how big an Alaskan bed is. I looked it up. Andrew's corner has a motivacional cat poster his mom-therapist gave him for decor and Neil's has his mom's bones so I guess they match? Shout-out to Andrunior at the window and their super safe knife target.
Paige wanted a pink and gold color scheme, so I went along those lines. She's got her crocheting paraphernalia on the floor, and because I can't put stars on the ceiling there's a cute nightlight.
Why does Nat's room looks purple? because right by that green mirror there's a craft paper lamp, you can kinda see it on the floor plan. Nat's room is very artsy, with a mirror gallery and lot's of paintings on her desired black walls.
Now pretty much all the other rooms, left to right and top to bottom: the foyer (their blue period, with abstract art and a gothic rug), downstairs bathroom (full, in case Neil breaks a leg), guest room, kid's bathroom (the Jack-and-Jill sink outside), Andreil bathroom, and stairs landing. Neil and Andrew let the kids go wild with the tiles, and I love them for that. Very funky. Also, behold their basically-hotubs.
And finally, because I loved how they looked: their back porch, with bench and floor painted by the kids, and the wall that faces Matt and Dan's home, where Nat painted a mural. (also, all houses have recycling and regular bins just outside, thanks to Renee)
As always, inspired by the fic Blame it On My Youth, by @yourficstheyglow
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Low level/continuous pain tips for writing
Want to avoid the action movie effect and make your character's injuries have realistic lasting impacts? Have a sick character you're using as hurt/comfort fodder? Everyone has tips for how to write Dramatic Intense Agony, but the smaller human details of lasting or low-level discomfort are rarely written in. Here are a few pain mannerisms I like to use as reference:
General
Continuously gritted teeth (may cause headaches or additional jaw pain over time)
Irritability, increased sensitivity to lights, sounds, etc
Repetitive movements (fidgeting, unable to sit still, slight rocking or other habitual movement to self-soothe)
Soft groaning or whimpering, when pain increases or when others aren't around
Heavier breathing, panting, may be deeper or shallower than normal
Moving less quickly, resistant to unnecessary movement
Itching in the case of healing wounds
Subconsciously hunching around the pain (eg. slumped shoulders or bad posture for gut pain)
Using a hand to steady themself when walking past walls, counters, etc (also applies to illness)
Narration-wise: may not notice the pain was there until it's gone because they got so used to it, or may not realize how bad it was until it gets better
May stop mentioning it outright to other people unless they specifically ask or the pain increases
Limb pain
Subtly leaning on surfaces whenever possible to take weight off foot/leg pain
Rubbing sore spots while thinking or resting
Wincing and switching to using other limb frequently (new/forgettable pain) or developed habit of using non dominant limb for tasks (constant/long term pain)
Propping leg up when sitting to reduce inflammation
Holding arm closer to body/moving it less
Moving differently to avoid bending joints (eg. bending at the waist instead of the knees to pick something up)
Nausea/fever/non-pain discomfort
Many of the same things as above (groaning, leaning, differences in movement)
May avoid sudden movements or turning head for nausea
Urge to press up against cold surfaces for fever
Glazed eyes, fixed stare, may take longer to process words or get their attention
Shivering, shaking, loss of fine motor control
If you have any more details that you personally use to bring characters to life in these situations, I'd love to hear them! I'm always looking for ways to make my guys suffer more write people with more realism :)
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Din Djarin, 30
30. was it worth it? (from this list)
further adventures in that modern au with anti-social baseball cap wearing single dad din djarin because i have no idea what's happening on the show anymore, let's doooo this
Once Din pulls into the driveway, he cuts the engine and sends up a tentative prayer to the universe that the sound is not enough to wake Grogu up. The kid is zonked out in his booster seat in the back, clutching the stuffed animal Din had won him at the fair—at the booth where you shoot a target with a water pistol to make it move, of course, because his aim is still worth writing home about after all these years—and seemingly unbothered by the sudden quiet. Din breathes a sigh of relief and then shifts his focus to the daunting task of trying to get this kid out of his seat, up two flights of stairs, and into the apartment without somehow waking him. It's not going to be easy.
With another sigh, Din opens the door and keeps it there with his foot as he digs around in the center console for his phone and his wallet before pulling the keys out of the ignition. Belatedly, he sees the golden light pouring from the open garage door and realizes Cal must be working in there still. Before Din can properly catch up, Cal is already outside and on his way over.
"I'll uh," Din says, as he gets out, gesturing back at the car, "I'll get this out of your way in a few, I just gotta get the kid upstairs first."
Cal shakes his head, already smiling. "No rush," he says, easily. "We're not going anywhere. And besides, you're always up early anyway. Do it in the morning."
"I don't want to block you all in, if you need to—"
"Like I said, we're not going anywhere. It's fine."
"Well—”
"I'll ask Merrin, if it'll make you feel better! But she will definitely also say it's fine."
Merrin is Cal's—well, Din isn't sure if they're married or not. Cal doesn't wear a ring and Merrin wears dozens, so it's hard to tell. They're definitely a couple, because they do that seamless first person plural thing all the time when they talk about each other, but if they happen to refer to each other in the third person, they just use each other's names, rather than “my spouse” or “my partner”, except for the time Cal—perhaps accidentally—referred to her as "my Merrin" and she made a face and mimed punching him in the stomach for it. They live on the first floor and generally manage the property because they know the owner, which means Cal has all of his tools and his work bench in the garage for his various projects and Merrin tends to the garden out back, which grows a bunch of vegetables and strange plants that Din isn't convinced should be able to survive in this climate. He suspects she has a way with these things but has never bothered to ask about it.
"I'll take your word for it," Din says, reluctantly. "And I appreciate it."
"No problem," Cal replies. "Need any help?"
Din opens the door and starts unbuckling Grogu from his seat. "Uh, I think I'm alright, but thanks."
Cal leans slightly back, so as not to be in the way when Din gently lifts Grogu out of the car and tucks him over his shoulder. "Wow, you really tuckered him out, huh?"
"Yeah. We went to the fair, the, uh, Apple and Trout something or other...?"
Cal laughs. "Peach and Chowder Festival," he corrects. "I know it well."
"This is a strange town."
"I know that too. Looks like you did alright, though."
"Yeah," Din says, gingerly lifting the tail of the stuffed shark in acknowledgement. Another parent at the booth had claimed it was a knockoff of some famous trademarked shark but Din doesn't know about all that. He only knows it was the next best thing in Grogu's mind when there were no frog or lizard plushes to be won. "He's happy, at least."
Cal tips his head to the side, curiously. "You didn't enjoy yourself?"
"Ah, well, you know...crowds and lots of noise and kids all hopped up on sugar...that's not really my thing. But it's not about me, it's about him, so..."
"Yeah," Cal says, with a small smile. He puts a hand gently on Grogu's back. "Bet that makes it all worth it, huh?"
Din suddenly feels very stupid for never bothering to ask Cal or Merrin if they have kids. He’s never been great at that stuff, asking the right questions to really get to know people, and so he can only guess what their situation is. He thinks they're about his age, give or take a few years, and that means they're young enough that, if they had any children, he expects they'd still be living together, but he's not sure about that. They could have kids old enough to be living on their own, he supposes. And they've always been kind to Grogu, never once making a snide comment about him not talking much or needing his space sometimes, the way some other folks do. Sometimes, Cal will even let the kid hang out in the garage to watch him work, waving away Din's concerns about him being too much trouble by pointing to Beady, the cat that's almost always curled up around his neck or perched on his shoulder.
"If I can work with this one around," Cal's fond of saying, "your son's no bother."
Still, Din's not sure how exactly to ask that politely—if they have children of their own or not—especially if the answer is more complicated than a simple yes or no. And there is something complicated and sad about what Cal's expression is doing right now.
"Anyway," he says, cheerfully after a moment, and the expression is gone, tucked away somewhere. "I'll get out of your hair. Just wanted to offer some help if you needed it."
Din clears his throat, thinking about how his therapist is always talking about how he should get better at accepting the kindness other people offer him and also something about how his upbringing had convinced him there's some nobility in suffering needlessly. He probably can get Grogu inside and into bed without any assistance, but it would be easier with help. There had also been a discussion in therapy about depriving people of the satisfaction of showing their love for him by turning down their offers to be of service.
"Actually," he says, feeling foolishly nervous about something so small and seemingly easy, "if you could grab the door for me, that would be a huge help."
"Of course," Cal says, with an easy smile. "Happy to."
"And let’s just, uh, make sure we don't lose the shark,” Din says, as they make their way up the steps. “I don’t think I have it in me to win another one.”
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