#stained wood wine bottle racks

[youbodyhealth]

Traditional Wine Cellar in Houston Inspiration for a large timeless brick floor wine cellar remodel with storage racks

#stained wood wine bottle racks #wine room #family crest #antique lantern #stained window

[erkiengill]

Wine Cellar - Transitional Wine Cellar Ideas for a sizable, concrete-floored, transitional wine cellar renovation project with shelves

#wine cellar #stone wood quartzite #wine racks #triple bottle storage #rolling ladder #stained concrete floors

[jamesmdavisson]

Wine Cellar - Transitional Wine Cellar Ideas for a sizable, concrete-floored, transitional wine cellar renovation project with shelves

#wine cellar #stone wood quartzite #wine racks #triple bottle storage #rolling ladder #stained concrete floors

[everythingne]

out of the woods, 4. ( LS2 )

With the fake dating (or real dating?) ploy underway, Dhanishka and Logan meet up to discuss their boundaries and their plans. It ends a bit hotter than either one expected, both physically and emotionally. Logan calls home, Dhanishka meets Olivia, and Lando actually has good advice.

series masterlist

warnings/notes: a pretty heavy makeout scene (again), arguments, implied sexual content (i was BLASTING do it for me while tipsy so... yeah), VERY heated arguments, Dhanishka being fucking STUPID, drinking/drunkeness, I gave Dalton a wife and kids bc i said so? Also, Olivia is from a series of mine called Marketing Ploy, which is the companion fic to this fic, but you do NOT have to read it for anything to make sense <;3

(ch. 3) (ch5)

Logan inviting me to his apartment in London was half him and half Williams PR. See, they (and Ferrari) didn’t want us to claim we were a couple again so soon, they sort of wanted to drag it on. They wanted drama, they wanted fire, we just wanted fucking peace and thus ripped the bandage. We hadn’t spoken much about us, the past, or the present, or what the future could look like. We just were dating. At least, in my eyes, we were dating for the praise of the media. A sloppy hallway makeout didn’t exactly look good when you weren’t dating the person you stained with your lipstick, oddly it looked a lot better when they knew you were a couple.

Or, a ‘couple.’

See, as much as I loved Logan, and he was very easy to love and all… there was a block. A wall of the past we didn’t dare touch. And it was going to eat me alive. Maybe it was just me, maybe I was just crazy, whatever it was I wanted it gone.

So, I come to Logan’s with a bottle of whiskey.

It wasn’t our typical drink of choice (he’d always preferred the vodka I snuck from my Aunties) but it was what I could easily snag from the liquor store with little to no notice and not have to worry about it making me completely dead tomorrow.

When I get to Logan’s apartment, I’m not shocked by his cleanliness. It was the main reason my mother loved him to bits, he was always “so clean, so nice, so well spoken” but when it was just the two of us—like now, I saw the true Logan peek out when I notice the suitcase propping his bedroom door open is lived out of.

“Fireball?” He hums when I set the bottle in his hands and use the wall to stabilize myself as I take off my heels, “do you want me to fucking die?”

“Maybe.” I tease, looking up, and that tension flares across us again. There’s a pause, his hand hovering halfway to me like he’s trying to grab something or hold me or something along those lines. But I push past him to grab two wine glasses from the wine rack in his kitchen that I know he doesn't use. He follows me, eyes on my back before sliding up my face slowly as I turn to face him.

“Wine glasses?” He hums and I shrug, sitting at his bar and popping open the Fireball. He laughs and sits next to me and I pour two roughly shot sized wine glasses of pure cinnamon whiskey. I hand him his and hold mine up. There's the chime of his laugh as he swirls his glass and then clinks his to mine. Tapping the glasses on the counter once, we then down the whiskey, and Logan makes the sour face I’m expecting as I sit calm.

Logan took shots well for someone who hated the taste of straight liquor.

“So.” I say to him, leaning forward, “what’s the plan for this whole—PR dating thing.”

“Well, I do everything I didn’t do properly when I was dating you.” Logan leans to meet me halfway across the counter and if I lean in, I know our lips will collide. I hum, tilting my head as I think of what to say. And his eyes flicker down and back up.

"Do you ever leave the house without that lipstick on?" He muses softly, his hand finding my knee, "Isa, you're gonna drive me crazy."

"I've worn it since you gave it to me, so it's really your fault." I shrug, pouring myself another shot, Logan just smiles, watching as I take another shot. I always was a two-to-one ratio with him when it came to drinking.

"Going back a bit, when we were dating, we were both inexperienced and you still were a pretty damn good boyfriend." I resist the urge to just take another shot, but Logan pours us both another, making my shot the size of two, and when he hands me the glass I murmur, "Good enough to make my standard so high I can't see myself with any other guy."

"Hm?" He turns back, and I naively assume he hadn't heard me clear. I wave my hand in dismissal, feeling a bit of heat warm my face. I know its not from the alcohol.

"Forget it--"

"I, me, Logan Sargeant, set your standard so high you can't see yourself with any other guy?" He sits down next to me at the bar stools pulled up to his counter and I swirl my drink and stare at it like it's the most interesting thing in the world. I can feel his smirk on his lips, the way his eyes travel along my skin. It makes me wanna hit him. I hate him so much. But yet I love him double that.

"Don't let it get to your head." I hum, taking half the liquor in my glass, pausing and then finishing it off, "We're only dating again for PR."

As soon as the words come out of my mouth I regret it, but instead of backing down, Logan leans closer and hums, tracing his thumb along my lips where the lipstick has smudged down and he murmurs, "And yet you show up here, tiny little dress, Valentino lipstick, that fucking perfume... if its just for PR, why are you dressing up like you did for every date we ever went on?"

Why is he so damn cocky, and why is it so fucking hot?

"I don't dress up for you." I had dressed up for him. I hadn't expected him to pick up on it so soon.

"Why are you being so difficult?" He almost grovels, his hand moving to grab my chin and force me to look at him when I scoff and turn away.

"Why are you being so pushy, Sargeant?" I let venom into my tone, and I note his eyes darken. What was he, a hate fuck? A grin crosses my lips as I continue, "We're here to figure out what we're doing for PR, not to fuck, you whore."

I lean back from his touch and he's off his chair to chase my skin. Logan already towers over me on a good day, so being sitting underneath him is a new feeling. He uses my knee to turn my chair so he can place his hands on either side of me, boxing me in, for once its stuffy and uncomfortable between us.

"You've taken such a tone with me since getting here, up to the big leagues. You might've knocked me down then, but I'm gonna be on top of you this time." Logan glances down at me, and it's almost predatory. I want to have all of him and none of him at once.

"You say that like you've ever been on top of me." I bring a hand to his chest, the material of whatever old shirt he's wearing has been thinned over the years, and I slowly drag my hand up to his throat. I can see the chills break from the drag of my nails, before I grab at the base of his throat and pull him down to match me, "God, I fucking hate you so much."

"Do you know?" He hums, tapping my knee with one hand, pressing his warm palm to my thigh as his fingers tease at the end of the skirt, "why'd you cross your legs then?"

I roll my eyes, "are you only confident with alcohol in your system?"

"Wanna find out?" He leans in, pausing right before I lips hit. Just enough of hesitation so I have to confirm by pressing our lips firmly together. He slots too naturally, and it brings a weird feeling to my gut, but I keep going. As much as I don't to admit it, I think I want it twice as much as he does. He's too much, clouding my senses, his hand slides up further. Logan is covered in my touch, my eyes boring into his between slow kisses that are far too deep to just be casual, I can smell the fireball mixing on our hot breaths, every gasp and soft whine that leaves us. He is all I am at the moment, and I am all he is at the moment. It's raw, its painful, its a trust I give up more willingly than I'd like to admit.

"I fucking hate you." I murmur against his lips, "I hate the way you make me feel."

"Do you want to stop?" His question is so innocent it makes me hate him more.

"Don't you fucking dare." My hand tightens on the base of his neck and his eyes roll before he settles his forehead against the juncture where my shoulder and neck meet.

His voice is breathy after he places a few kisses that have me leaning into him, teeth nipping where he knows my uniform will cover marks as he bites, "you torture me, looking like that, sounding like that."

"Bit braver now than you were at nineteen." I tease, my second hand finally detaching from my lap to grab at his waist and he lifts his head.

"Listen, you were out of my league." He smiles against my lips innocently. His hand placement and the way he kisses me after is anything but innocent. I let out a low groan, pulling him in once more by the neck until that arm slots around his shoulders to keep him tight against me as I try and gain my footing once more.

"Wanna prove you can come to my league then." I say and my hand slides and he grins, neediness takes over the next kiss and I let the planning aspect of this relationship slip my mind.

Maybe we just needed a hate fuck, and thats why we couldn't get the hell off each other.

The world comes back slowly to me, his hand on my waist, the soft snore of the man besides me and I feel like a fucking idiot. The sky is warming, the clock on the wall reads around seven in the morning, and I'm surprised I slept this late. As I detach myself from Logan, I find an odd yearning to it, the domestic feeling of covering him up after and then making my way to the bathroom. Even with the domestic warming my heart, my stomach gnaws in anxiety and something akin to fear.

I mean, it wasn't the first time we'd slept together, but there was something different about it. Something between those moments of heat, his heart had intertwined with mine amidst the mess of limbs.

God, I was in deep now, wasn't I?

I shove my face under the water of Logans shower, the warm water waking me up a bit more as I let out a soft sigh as it rolls across bites and bruises.

Charles was going to lose his fucking mind.

When I'm done, Logan's awake, propped up as he watches me exit the bathroom with my hair in loose braid. His smile grows cocky as he sees the marks barely hidden by one of his William's tees I'd stolen. I don't hesitate to come to his side and his arm lifts to fix a stray hair that falls from behind my ear before pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

"G'mornin'." His voice is gravelly from just waking up and I return the greeting, settling to sit on the bed next to him. I don't even think about it as I start fixing up his hair.

"I know its early, but you wanted to talk about the relationship stuff."

"I did." I hum, letting my hand rest on his chest as he rolls back onto his back, looking up at me with a tiny smile.

"Well, we could have more nights like last night, more mornings like these, cute little dates... you know, the works..." He waves a hand, "if you want that."

"I don't know how much the nights and mornings will help PR." I hum and Logan scoffs. Instantly I know I've said something wrong as he props himself back up and looks me dead in the eyes with a look that would make most people shy away.

"How much of this is PR? Did you fuck me because of fucking PR, Dhanishka?" His voice is sharp, irritated immediately, and I don't know where to go from here. Somehow him not calling me Isa, a nickname I used to despise, makes me feel sick.

And I hesitate before I say, "Logan, we chose to do this because it was what was best to save both of our images. I would be stupid not to think about that."

"Is that all this will be to you then? PR?" Logans now fully sitting up and we feel too close. It's too much, but not in the way it was last night, this feels almost threatening.

"I mean, no..." But my voice is so unconvincing Logan just blinks before laughing, running a hand through his hair and messing it up even after I had fixed it before he just groans.

"I don't know why I thought I would get anywhere with you, Dhanishka." He murmurs into his palm, looking over at me with almost hatred in his eyes and I swallow hard. I can't even think of anything to do other than just stare at him.

So, Logan continues to rip my heart out, "I didn't do this because of PR. I could care less! All these people fucking hate me anyways! I could care less about PR and management and my image, because I could've just had us again. Do you know how long I've wanted to just hold you? Just talk to you? But I respected your space because I knew I broke it off and it would've been wrong for me to try that again, and seeinfg you again brought every ounce of love back to the surface... and then you say that?"

"I don't have a guaranteed seat for the next two seasons like you do, Logan, I have to be perfect!" I counter, "I love you, I do, but racing has to come first for me now, I have to be--I have to be more than I've ever been. I don't get a second chance, I don't get an option B like you do. This is it!"

"You're on your second chance, Trident was you first--"

"Oh don't you fucking start with Trident!" I growl, standing up and making space between us even when, in this moment of anguish in my heart, I crave nothing more than his touch, "I had nothing to do with that crash! I don't know how many times I have to tell you!"

"You seriously had no idea?" He says, softer, baiting, and I bite the hook.

"Yes!" I cry, waving my hands in desperation, "no one believes me! I dont--"

"I don't believe you either." Logan's voice is monotone and dead. The room falls silent after it and it's exactly what I've been terrified of him saying. My hands shake as I watch him stand and walk towards me, towering over me as he just sighs like he's just disappointed in me.

He looks gutted, like I had broken up with him, he looks the way he had when he shouted at me. I suddenly feel seventeen again, like a little girl with big eyes as everyone watched in her in the BWT garage as she was broken up with. I feel the prickly feeling of a thousand eyes watching us, even though we're completely alone in his flat.

As I meet his eyes, darker than any shade of blue I'd ever seen, I try to swallow down my guilt, but words he says next make my heart stop in my throat, "I knew I couldn't ever trust you or love you the same way again. And I tried, and you just used me for what? A hate fuck to get the stress out?"

"Logan, please!" I counter and he grabs my phone, handing it to me from the bedside as his voice is taught, its raw, and tears are in his eyes. I can't move.

"No, I know what this is. Get the fuck out of my flat."

And like that, the world crumbles under my feet.

It's four in the morning when Dalton's phone lights up the next day. Logan can picture him groaning as Ashlynn smacks him in the chest until he answers it based on just how groggy Dalton says the words, "Logan? You good?"

"No." Logan's voice is terribly raw. It didn't take an idiot to know something was wrong and yeah, Logan feel terrible for calling on Dalton this late but he didn't know who else to go to.

"Fuck, man, hold on." Dalton sits up and Logan listens as he murmurs something to Ashlynn and climbs out of the safe warmth feeling of his bed with his wife.

"Sorry, mate." Logan apologizes. he feels terrible for calling Dalton so late, but he knows his brother doesn't mind. Years ago, Dalton had said if it was his way, Logan would live right next door to him. Unfortunately, he didn't, and Logan was five hours or so ahead in a flat by himself.

"What's going on, Lo?" Dalton asks a bit louder, and if Logan isn't mistaking he thinks he can hear the sound of his brother walking into the kitchen of his little cookie cutter house.

"I fucked up, mate, I don't know what I'm doing." Logan cries into his hand, trying to muffle his voice as best he can. He feels like an idiot, how he though Dhanishka would change, how she would love him.

"What severity is this? Called your elementary teacher mom level or like, I need to flee the country level?" Dalton brings his humor into anything and as much as Logan appreciates the attempt at making him laugh, it just irritates him further.

"I thought Dhanishka still had feelings, kinda had sex with her, and then she just left after we fought..." Logan feels sick when Dalton is silent, so he attempts to add humor, "level."

"Like did she leave before you woke up..?" Dalton asks and Logan realizes he's really given no context. So he explains as best he can, biting his lip at the awkward parts, and then sighing as he explains,

"I just... thought she felt different. That we were actually dating and not like... some sort of PR-stunt-hate-fuck-thing."

Dalton is quiet before he lets out a slow sigh and Logan can perfectly picture his brother pushing blond stands of hair from his bedhead, and running the hand along his head until it falls to his neck as he says, "Well, you should've spoken before... sleeping together. But also, she's wrong for not making that clear, but also you're wrong for assuming. It's a big tricky situation, and it seems like she won't be very positively receptive to... talking, about the situation."

Logan can only find the energy to say, "She probably fucking hates me, Dalton."

"Hey, now." Dalton says softly, "she wouldn't have let you do what you did if she didn't also like you, I know Isa--she'd kick you right in the balls, Logan. But also... Isa's got a lot of pressure on her right now, not even including Ferrari, everyone and their mothers are hyper analyzing her every move. The PR cover-up works, but people are still calling her all sorts of things online. Things they aren't calling you.

You aren't the only thing in her life. But she's told you, racing comes first, and you have to decide what to do with that."

"I want to be on the same level of racing, or even a close second to it. I know it's our career but I have always seen us ending up together." Logan looks at the sun now peeking over the other apartment builds around him.

"But she hasn't been seeing that too, Logan." Dalton reasons, "any relationship is a two way street, and you have to make sure what your partner wants is also what you want. You want a relationship, Dhanishka wnts something that keeps her PR agents happy. You have different ideals, it's not time for a real relationship."

Logan hates how right Dalton is, and just sighs out a soft, "I guess..."

"You still have to fake date, I'm sure. But listen... just fake date, do what you have to do and see where it goes. Either she sees she does want a relationship or you see that she will still pick racing over you and go from there." Dalton yawns, "Or, you ditch the whole plan."

"I can't really back out now or it'll be worse." Logan hums, "but I'll see where this bullshit takes me."

"Olivia!" Lando shouts into his flat. He leaves me at the door to take off my shoes as I wipe under my raw eyes and kick the heels into a corner. Bumbling down the hallway in a mess of her usual at home state, I meet eyes with Olivia Piastri. The head analyst of Red Bull, the woman who had her own fake-dating past with her now fiance who awkwardly tucks out of view in his McLaren hoodie once he knows Olivia's seen me.

"Dhanishka, oh, honey!" She cooes, quickly coming down the hall to bring me into a hug. The second her arms are around me, I burst into tears, she shushes me and kisses my hairline, slowly bringing me to the couch. She had been the one to approach me about the Vogue interview since Ophelia had been stuck in Australia. After that, she became a friend to have in the paddocks, and now a shoulder to sob into.

"I'm so confused and tired and--" I cut off with a hiccup and Olivia nods. While I would've perferred the hands of my sister, mother, father, or even Charles to wipe away my tears, Olivia is exceptionally gentle and nods as I sob out confused sentences.

"Tell me what happened," Olivia says once I've calmed and I spit out angry sentences about Logan and his confusing actions and how I feel like I'm missing something. My tears are my displaced anger, I'd only ever been able to cry when I was angry. I had never been sure why. Olivia knows what's happening before I even do, she's already pieced it all together.

"When Lando and I were figuring it out, I was the same as you. I was so caught up in officiality that I forgot I loved Lando as much as he loved me. I was afraid he wouldn't love me if not for that contract, and so to save myself from heartbreak I kept telling myself it was just an act." Olivia wipes my tears now that I'm calm, and Lando comes in with some teas for us, before settling down on the chair across from us.

"Me buying you a Coach purse was not for media." Lando hums and Olivia turns to flip him off before turning back to me.

"You and Logan have a lot of mistrust and fear with you both already. Honestly, whoever said it would be a good idea for you to do this and let you. Even after knowing the disaster it was for Lando and I? They are a damn idiot and I'm sorry they did that to you both." Olivia hands me my tea and I sip it, lemon and lavender hitting my taste buds and I want to cry.

"But, here's what I have to ask," She takes a sip of tea for pause and then asks, "do you love Logan? Like, honestly, truly, without PR, love Logan?"

I let the feelings coming to my chest hit me.

Back when we'd started dating, we were teens with stars in our eyes. It was love, pure love.

Logan had been so hesitant to hold me hand. Oscar had spent a week telling Logan to kiss me so I'd stop complaining to my friends he hadn't yet. He helped me grow into my confidence with femininity and I helped him find his sense of self and got him that cocky confidence I loved. We had circled each other, one always just a bit ahead of the other, never to far. And then he shattered it.

I put my heart back together with Kintsugi, healed it, made myself more beautiful. But the metal against the soft skin of my heart made it hurt, made me break, made me angry. His breakup intensified my anger with racing, and the anger I felt was more so for Trident than Logan.

Logan healed his heart with patience, held himself together by threads, waited to give it to me because he knew I could fix it. All I had done was taken his heart and shattered it even further than before.

Now, here we are. It is still the same love as when we were teens, but the stars in our eyes are long gone now.

"I think I do." I whisper in a shake of anguish. All I wanted was to go back to Logan and apologize.

"You can't think it," Olivie advises, poking my arm to keep me rooted on the couch, "You have to know it."

"And if you can't know it, here's what I think." Lando speaks up, tilting his head at me, "you go along with the fake dating until PR says you can cut it. If at that point, you're still not sure, cut it. Don't string him down a path of confusion and concern. During our fake dating thing, I loved Olivia the whole time, but I had to make her fall for me after a while. She did eventually, and I think you will too."

I nod, sighing softly, arms numb and mind scrambled. I find enough sense to whisper,

"Lets see where this shit takes me."

taglist (open, and thank you to those on it now!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

#f1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #logan sargeant x reader #formula one fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic #ls2 fanfiction #lando norris fanfic #f1 oc

[kalcium-yippee]

Short Story based on an old House and Valentine's Day

In my school writing club, we had a prompt consisting of a picture of an old white house and words asking to draw a scene on Valentine's Day taking place there. Here is what I wrote.

Last Valentine's Day by Kal August

The wind is harsh and cold, the street seems so eerie, laced with a haunted air. Valentine’s Day and it is still ice-cold. A sudden warmness hits my face as I lay eyes on, in a distance, the little white house. Barely being held together at this point, the dead trees have wrapped their spindled fingers around it, clutching it in the past. I tighten my grip on the bouquet of flowers. Smells of past springs haunt my nose. The flowers are a little worn from the wind, but they still stand strong. I tread down the small walkway; it feels just as it did 20 years ago. I duck under the tangle of wooden webs protecting the porch. I walk to the door with the sound of creaking wood beneath my feet, screaming for some sort of freedom. There the door lies cracked open. A tear wanders down my face to my lips. “How the world has forgotten you...” I think to myself as I inhale and push open the door.

I stumble through the kitchen; the wind blows the faded red curtains through the shattered windows. Mugs still sit in the drying rack, left to eternally sit. Not for long though. The flowers look as though they are wilting solely from the sight of the disillusioned kitchen. I slowly creep through the hall to the staircase. Over two decades of not a single soul placing their feet upon it. Last time I used this staircase I was running, fueled by anger. Down the stairs tripping on the last step and out the house and I never stepped back in, until now. I step over the splintered wood that caused me to trip so long ago and crept my way up. Memories of times on this staircase hit me in what feels like the chest, I almost dropped my flowers as the old sights of using pillows to slide up and down the ebony stairs as kids flood my senses. The argument I had with her that caused me to stomp it down at 15, tripping on the last step and breaking my ankle. The time she ran up to me, tripping on the first step and breaking a toe, when we were 20. It all came rushing back with a tear welling in my left eye. 

To the left was that room. I walked up to it, flowers in hand practically suffocating from my grip. We had spent many hours in this room, laughing, talking, eating, and just existing in the moment, never worried about where the future will take us. If we both knew where everything was going, maybe we would have savored it all more. I walk over to the bed stand, sitting on it a lamp with a torn shade, ‘Flowers of Buffoonery’, her favorite book, and a knocked over empty pill bottle. I sit by the bed, the stained pink comforter and orange sheets smell…. aged, not like wine, more like a lemon left out on the counter. She never liked change. Always re-bought the same comforter, pillows and sheets every 5 years since she was 7. It was something I loved about her. I sat the slowly shriveling flowers down next to me. “I’m sorry I could never be there when you needed me.” I whispered out. I held onto a box of matches, “Maybe I can see you again soon. I will see you again soon. Happy Valentine’s Day.” I uttered painfully as I lit a match, and everything seemed to go dark.

Lemme know what you think! x

#short story #writing #creative writing #writing prompt #valentines day #sad story

[deepinmummymatters]

DIY Garage Bar Ideas for Ultimate Home Hangout

Transforming your storage space into a personalized garage bar area is a fantastic way to create a unique and inviting wet bar for entertaining friends and family. Whether you are a seasoned DIY enthusiast or just looking for a fun project, a home bar build can be a fulfilling and functional addition to your home. We will explore some creative and little money total cost budget-friendly DIY garage bar ideas to turn your perfect place into the ultimate hangout spot. Pallet Bar Counter Looking to add some flair to your garage or outdoor bar entertainment space? With just a few pallets, some basic tools, and a splash of creativity, you can create a stylish and functional bar top or counter and possibly a foot rail that will be the envy of all your guests. The beauty of a pallet bar counter lies in its versatility and rustic charm. You can customize in different designs to fit any space or style, from sleek and modern to vintage or a rustic look. Not only does it provide an inviting focal point for socializing, but the most important part is it also adds practical storage space for drinks, glassware, and other entertaining essentials. As an eco-friendly option that repurposes old materials, this DIY project is not only fun but also a great way to be sustainable. - Sand the pallet for a smooth finish and add a clear varnish for a polished look. 2. Attach a few shelves on the back for storing glassware and liquor bottles. Industrial Pipe Shelving Are you looking to add a unique industrial touch to your garage bar, Industrial pipe shelving might be the perfect solution for achieving that rugged yet modern style. By using metal pipes and reclaimed wood you can create a striking storage and display system that adds character to any space. Not only does it offer a cool industrial vibe, but it also provides practical storage solutions for displaying glassware, a liquor cabinet, and other bar essentials and wine racks. One of the great advantages of industrial pipe shelving is its versatility. You can customize the look of your home bar design and layout to fit your specific needs and space constraints. Whether you want a compact shelving unit for beer and wine glasses or an expansive wall-to-wall display, the flexibility of industrial pipe shelving makes it an ideal great project. By incorporating finishing touches in a ton of different ways, and with materials such as adding decorative brackets or using stained wood shelves instead of raw timber, you can personalize the look to complement your garage bar's overall style making it the perfect spot for entertaining. - Embrace an industrial vibe by using metal pipes and wooden planks to create shelving. 2. Arrange pipes in a ladder-like design and secure them to the wall or floor. 3. Place wooden planks on the pipes to serve as shelves for displaying your bar essentials or as seating options if placed on the floor. Reclaimed Wood Bar Reclaimed wood bars are a popular choice for those looking to add a rustic and eco-friendly element to home bar ideas. The beauty of using reclaimed wood for the length of the bar is that each piece has its unique history, adding character and charm to any space and can breathe new life into your design. In addition to its visual appeal, reclaimed wood is also an environmentally-conscious choice. By repurposing old wood from sources such as barns, factories, or even wine barrels, you're helping to reduce the demand for new timber while saving valuable resources. This not only adds a sense of authenticity to your bar but also allows you to contribute positively to the planet. The versatility of reclaimed wood allows you to experiment with different styles and finishes. Whether you prefer a weathered look for the front of the bar or opt for a sleeker appearance, the natural characteristics of reclaimed wood offer endless design possibilities.  - Salvage old wood from pallets or other sources to construct a charming reclaimed wood bar. 2. Stain or paint the wood to match your desired aesthetic. 3. Use sturdy crates or barrels as barstools for an added rustic touch. Chalkboard Wall If you're looking for a creative and functional DIY element to add to your garage bar, consider installing a chalkboard wall. Not only does it serve as a unique and customizable decorative element, but it also provides practical utility for keeping track of drink specials, writing out the day's menu, or simply letting guests leave their mark with fun doodles and messages. The versatility of a chalkboard wall adds an interactive and dynamic dimension to any social gathering in your garage bar. A chalkboard wall can also be a cost-effective and low-maintenance solution for updating the look of your space. With some chalkboard paint and a little creativity, you can transform an ordinary wall into an eye-catching feature that reflects your style. Whether you opt for classic black or experiment with bold colors, the possibilities are endless.  LED Lighting Consider using LED lighting to enhance your DIY garage space. LED strip lights can be a game-changer, offering customizable colors and brightness levels to create the perfect atmosphere for your entire garage or small bar seating area. These energy-efficient lights are easy to install and can be controlled with a smartphone app, allowing you to change the mood at the touch of a button. Additionally, LED lighting is durable and long-lasting, making it an ideal choice for a low-maintenance yet stylish DIY bar setup. Another innovative way and great option is to incorporate LED lighting into your garage bar is by utilizing smart bulbs. These bulbs can be programmed to sync with music or change color in response to a different sound system, adding an immersive experience to your gatherings. With the ability to set schedules and control settings remotely, smart bulbs provide convenience and endless creative possibilities for your DIY garage bar transformation. Whether you're aiming for a modern vibe or creating a unique atmosphere with changing colors and effects, LED lighting opens up a world of creative opportunities for transforming your garage into a captivating space for entertaining friends and family. DIY Beer Tap System Are you a beer enthusiast looking to take your own bar to the next level? Consider building a DIY beer tap system to elevate your at-home drinking experience. Not only will it add a professional touch to your garage bar, but it also allows you to pour the perfect draft beer without leaving the comfort of your own space. When creating a DIY beer tap system, think beyond just functionality. This is an opportunity to showcase your creativity and personalize your garage bar setup. You can experiment with different tap designs, materials, and finishes to complement the overall style of your space. Additionally, by choosing to build your system, you have the flexibility to customize it based on the types of beers you usually serve, ensuring that every pour is tailored to perfection. With the rise of homebrewing and craft beer culture, installing a DIY beer tap system has never been more timely or exciting. From choosing the ideal location for installation in your garage bar to learning about keg maintenance and cleaning processes, embarking on this project opens up a world of possibilities for beer enthusiasts who want full control over their drinking experience. As an idea you could purchase a kegerator conversion kit and transform a mini-fridge into a personalized tap for your favorite drinks. Personalized Signage Personalized signage is the perfect way to showcase your unique style and make a statement in your entertainment space. Whether you prefer custom neon lights or signs, hand-painted wooden board, or vintage-inspired marquee letters, personalized signage can set the tone for your DIY garage bar and create a memorable atmosphere for you and your guests. For those who appreciate the DIY approach, crafting personalized signage for your garage bar presents an opportunity to showcase your skills and imagination. From welding metal letters to engraving reclaimed wood, there are numerous creative ideas and techniques available to personalize signage in a way that reflects your flair. This hands-on approach not only adds a sense of accomplishment but also ensures that each piece holds sentimental value within the context of your DIY garage bar project. - Craft your personalized signage to give your garage bar a distinct identity. 2. Use reclaimed wood, metal, or even chalkboard material to create a unique sign. 3. Incorporate your bar's name or a catchy slogan to make it yours. Vintage Decoration Accents Vintage decoration accents are a fantastic way to add character and intrigue to any space. DIY bar design ideas can be brought to life with vintage decorative accents, such as old whiskey barrels repurposed into tables or industrial-style lighting fixtures adding a nostalgic touch. Whether it's an antique mirror, vintage signage, or weathered wooden crates, these pieces bring history and charm into your home. Incorporating vintage decor accents can create a unique atmosphere that tells a story about the past while embracing the present. Think outside the box by using old windows as decorative frames for sports memorabilia or artwork or turning retro suitcases into quirky storage solutions. When it comes to vintage decor accents, the key is to strike a balance between nostalgia and modern sophistication. Pairing rustic bar stools with sleek marble counters or mixing mid-century chairs with contemporary accessories creates an eclectic yet harmonious look.  Scour thrift stores and flea markets for vintage bar decoration. Old signs, retro bar stools, and classic beer advertisements can add character to your garage bar. Mix and match pieces for an eclectic and visually appealing space. Conclusion Creating a DIY garage bar is a fun and rewarding project that can add personality and entertainment to your home. With the right tools and creativity, you can transform your garage into a stylish and functional bar space that will impress your friends and family. Whether you opt for a rustic, industrial, or modern design, there are countless ideas and inspirations to suit every taste. So why not roll up your sleeves, gather some materials, and start creating your unique space today? Read the full article

[armstrongbuildingservices]

Elevate Your Kitchen: A Comprehensive Cabinet Design

The task of creating a new layout for your kitchen cabinets can be very daunting and sometimes stressful? It should be enjoyable and creative. At Armstrong Building Services we are here to help. Welcome to our comprehensive guide on kitchen cabinet design, where we will dive into the art of creating functional and visually appealing space in the heart of your home. Whether you’re remodelling your kitchen or building one from scratch, a well-designed kitchen cabinet layout is crucial for maximising storage and enhancing the overall aesthetic artful appearance that sets your kitchen apart from the “standard.” In this blog, we’ll share expert tips and creative ideas to help you design your kitchen cabinet footprint.

Assessing Your Needs: Before you start the kitchen cabinet design process, it’s essential to assess your needs and lifestyle. Consider factors such as the number of people using the kitchen, cooking habits, will there be seating in the kitchen, do you want a bar stool section, what is stored on the countertops, moving windows and  lighting, and how easy is it to clean, placement and storage requirements.  By understanding your needs and wants,  you can create a design that optimises space and enhances efficiency.

Exploring Layout Options:

There are several popular kitchen cabinet layouts to choose from, each offering unique advantages. Common options include the U-shaped, L-shaped, galley, and island layouts. Analyse the available space and select a layout that best suits your kitchen’s size and shape. A well-chosen layout can significantly impact the functionality and flow of your kitchen. The most common attribute you want to include in your design is the “kitchen work triangle”. This is when the three most used appliances in your kitchen (stove, sink, and refrigerator) are all positioned in a way that makes a triangle,  with no objects or interference in the way when turning and walking to the next appliance. This lay out creates the most efficient work space, with countertops in between one or two points of the triangle

Choosing the Right Cabinet Style:

The style of your kitchen cabinets plays a pivotal role in defining the overall ambiance. Whether you prefer shaker, frameless, modern, traditional, farmhouse, contemporary, or even european. Be sure to consider all the styles before deciding, as there is a vast array of cabinet styles to explore. Keep in mind the existing decor and architectural elements of your home while selecting a style that complements the overall design.

Maximising Storage: Efficient storage solutions are the staple of an excellent kitchen cabinet design. Incorporate features like pull-out shelves, lazy Susans, and deep drawers, spice racks, cookie sheet holders, wine glass and bottle storage, trash bin cabinets, and a small appliances garage, to make the most of every inch of space. Additionally, tall cabinets can be utilised to store items that aren’t frequently used, while open shelves provide a decorative touch and easy access to commonly used items.

Choosing Quality Materials:

The longevity and sturdiness of your kitchen cabinets hinge primarily on the chosen materials. Prioritize top-tier options such as solid wood or plywood, as they deliver exceptional robustness and resilience against daily usage. Furthermore, delve into a variety of clear stain finishes and factory-painted colors that undergo a curing process to attain enhanced hardness. These aspects are pivotal considerations when investing in your kitchen furnishings.

Incorporating Lighting: Effective lighting has the power to elevate your kitchen cabinets from commonplace to exceptional. Explore the option of incorporating under-cabinet lighting, which not only brightens your work areas but also infuses a cozy and inviting atmosphere into the kitchen. This dual impact not only improves practicality but also accentuates the aesthetic appeal of your cabinet design. We are available for consultations to delve into additional creative concepts.

Personalising with Hardware: Small details, such as cabinet hardware, can make a significant impact on the overall look. Experiment with various knobs, pulls, and handles to find the perfect match for your cabinet style and overall appearance. Many times they will match the finish of the sink and appliances or be a contrasting color to pull everything together.  Don’t be afraid to mix and match to create a custom and eye-catching look.

Conclusion:

Designing your dream kitchen with the perfect cabinet layout is an exciting process. By understanding your needs and wants, exploring layout options, selecting the right style and materials, maximising storage, incorporating lighting, and personalising with hardware, you can create a stunning and highly functional kitchen that surpasses expectations.

#Kitchen Cabinet Design

[signaturecellars]

Staining And Finishing Your Wine Cellar Racks? Read This First!

Building a wine cellar involves a number of steps. One of the most crucial steps is choosing high quality wine cellar racks and protecting them with staining and finishing. And picking a staining product for your wine racks is far more than a design choice. In fact, choosing the wrong stain can leave your wine racks with strange odours and funky taste.

So, continue reading and learn everything you should know before buying staining and finishing products for your wooden wine racks in Australia.

What Should You Know Before Staining And Finishing Your Wine Cellar Racks?

Your wine collection is not just a pursuit but an asset. Every part of your wine storage solution can increase your home’s value. Hence, it needs protection with accurate materials.

So, remember these crucial points when shopping for your wine rack stains.

1. Determine Whether You Truly Want A Finish On The Racks

Hardwoods like Oak and Mahogany typically have a beautiful natural finish that lasts a lifetime. These woods don’t always require an additional coat of stain to enhance their beauty. In fact, they change their colours over time to take an even richer appearance. 

Even softwoods like Cedar have in-built capabilities to fight against mould and pest infestation and retain their dark colour for a long time. Therefore, consult your wine cellar manufacturers before purchasing wood stain to know whether you actually need it.

2. Stained Wine Racks Should Not Remain In An Enclosed Environment

Most wood stains for wine cellar racks have a strange odour. When you use these stains on wood and store it in an airtight space for a long time, it can affect the flavours of your drink. The odour will seep into the bottle through the cork and alter the smell of the wine.

3. Do You Want A Water-Based Stain?

Manufacturers use synthetic resins, plasticizers and film-forming ingredients to create water-based stains for wine storage racks in Australia. Water-based finishes create a durable, moisture-resistant surface on wooden shelves that dry fast and leave little to no irritating fumes. However, the quick drying characteristic can make it challenging to apply. Also, water-based stains raise the wood grains. 

4. Or Do You Want An Oil-Based Stain?

Oil-based stains are easier to apply, and they are less temperamental. You shall apply two to three coats to evenly distribute the paint across your custom wine racks. However, the most common issue with oil paint is that it never completely dries down. While it makes the finish more durable on the wood, it also means the foul smell of the finish will have more opportunity to seep into your drinks.

5. Do You Need Professional Help To Apply The Wine Stain?

Applying stains on your wall-mounted wine racks is not the most challenging task. Hence, you can definitely spread it yourself. However, if you want a professional finish with as little fuss as possible, there are professionals to hire. Most wine cellar builders offer wine-racking services too. So, you can get all these services in a single package to save money and hassle. 

Summing Up

While wooden wine cellar racks are more durable and stable than metal wine racks, choosing the accurate material is essential here. With low-quality or unauthentic wooden wine racks, you will have to apply a stain. So, make your choice wisely and take professional help when needed.

Read More: Do Bottled, Opened, And Unopened Wines Go Bad?

#wine cellar racks

[knebelblacktown]

5 Quick and Easy Kitchen Makeovers

We spend a lot of time in our kitchens—and it's worth investing in the space to ensure it functions optimally. A kitchen makeover may involve adding an island or extra cabinetry or replacing dated materials.

A new layout can remove bottlenecks that waste time as you prep food or maneuver around the room. These kitchen remodel ideas will help you turn this heart of your home into a beautiful and inviting space.

1.Redesign the windows

While you may think of gorgeous cabinets, luxurious countertops, or trendy backsplash tile when you envision a kitchen makeovers remodel, windows can make an impact as well. Look for unexpected spots for new windows in your kitchen to transform the design and add extra light.

For example, adding a transom window above your sink can break up wall space that may feel repetitive and draw the eye upward.

2.Add a wine rack

A wine rack is a stylish addition that can boost your kitchen's storage. It's also a great option if you want to showcase your collection.

Consider a built-in wine rack with cubed slots that allow bottles to sit at an angle to keep their corks moist. This can work well in a kitchen or wet bar.

Sweeten homeowners Alicia and Ed used this smart kitchen remodel idea in their home. Their new wine rack adds a dramatic and stylish touch to their room without changing the existing layout.

3.Hide the range hood

While it might seem like a small detail, hiding your range hood can actually make a big difference in the look of your kitchen. It also helps reduce dust, smoke, and grease in the air.

You can even add a fun pop of color to your kitchen by painting the vent hood cover. Try a bold blue, red, or green to make it stand out.

4.Install floating shelves

Open shelving can transform a kitchen in a flash. However, there are some best practices to adhere to when installing and upkeeping this design feature.

Decorate the shelves with colors used throughout your kitchen to create a cohesive look. This will make the space appear well designed and clean. This is especially important because floating shelves are more difficult to keep dust-free than cabinets.

5.Add a few farmhouse-inspired elements

One key element to creating a farmhouse-inspired kitchen is introducing natural wood elements. This includes flooring, cabinetry, and countertops.

Adding an apron-front sink is another way to add farmhouse style. This style shows off your favorite dishes and helps create a warm and welcoming space.

Other farmhouse-inspired elements include hanging racks to store your chopping knives, cutting board and pots and pans.

6.Add some wood

While sleek marble and stainless steel are popular kitchen staples, wood can add a warm contrast. Line your cabinets with wood veneer or paint them with a dark stain to create a wood-filled effect.

Installing a wood backsplash is another small change that makes a big impact. It can also warm up a modern kitchen with a classic material that won't date as quickly as trendy tile.

7. Redesign the cabinets

Empty space above upper cabinets is a kitchen design pet peeve and can be fixed easily by adding crown molding. This will fill in the empty space and make your kitchen feel taller and more finished.

Another option is to remove the doors from your upper cabinets and display your prettiest dishes behind glass. You can even get creative and add reeded, leaded or tinted glass inserts.

8.Add a few hanging racks

Using wall-mounted racks with hooks is an easy way to keep a kitchen organized. You can also add them to the doors of your cabinets to keep utensils and other items within reach.

Open shelving is a gorgeous addition to a kitchen, but it can quickly look messy without the right amount of balance. To avoid a cluttered look, color coordinate your shelves and carefully curate what goes on them.

9.Redesign the walls

A kitchen makeover isn't just about upgrading the appliances and surfaces. It's also about rethinking the layout.

New floor-to-ceiling cabinets help visually expand this narrow kitchen makeovers in sydney. A new backsplash and a custom island bring the space together.

Kitchens aren't just a place to cook—they're the heart of every home and a gathering spot for family and friends. Show off your style with a beautiful new kitchen.

10.Redesign the doors

A new kitchen layout can eliminate bottlenecks that make it difficult to maneuver or optimize storage. For this makeover, a peninsula was removed to visually expand the room, while white upper cabinets stretch to the ceiling for an airy look.

A new backsplash helps tie the new design together, and a simple DIY embellishment like wooden appliques on cabinet doors adds cottage charm. Changing only the doors can be less expensive than refacing the existing cabinet boxes.

#kitchen makeovers

[williamhammel]

From Trash to Treasure: How to Make a Wine Rack out of Pallets

With this easy-to-follow guide, you can learn how to make a wine rack out of pallets. We'll show you how to turn trash into treasure every step of the way, from measuring and cutting the pallets to sanding and staining. Your guests will be impressed by a unique piece of furniture that can hold and show off your favorite bottles of wine.

Wine racks are an excellent investment for any home, but purchasing one may be pricey, and it's possible that it won't complement the aesthetic of the rest of your furnishings. Fortunately, constructing your very own wine rack out of pallets is not at all difficult. This is an excellent method for reusing outdated materials and cutting down on waste, in addition to being a cost-effective alternative to consider.

How to Make a Wine Rack Out of Pallets

Making a wine rack out of pallets is a straightforward and enjoyable do-it-yourself project that involves only a few tools and materials. In this post, we will give you with detailed instructions on how to build your own wine rack out of pallets, as well as some helpful hints and suggestions to make the procedure as simple and straightforward as it can possibly be.

In order to get started, you will need to make sure you have all of the required tools and supplies. You are going to need to:

Wooden pallets (preferably in good condition) Measuring tape Saw (circular saw or jigsaw) (circular saw or jigsaw) Drill \sScrews Sandpaper or a sander Paint or stain Sanding or sanding paper (optional) The obvious answer is wine bottles!

Build a Wine Rack

Step 1: Choose Your Color Palettes

The first thing you need to do in order to construct a wine rack out of pallets is select the appropriate pallets. In many cases, local businesses or internet marketplaces will provide pallets at no cost to their customers. Try to find pallets that are in good shape, without any cracks or boards that have been broken. Selecting pallets that have a stamp showing that they are suitable for use in building is another important consideration to make.

Step 2: Take Apart the Pallets.

When you have your pallets in hand, the next step is to take them apart into their component parts. To disassemble the pallets into their component parts, such as the top and bottom boards, as well as the support beams in the middle, you can use a saw. After that, if there are any nails or screws still embedded in the wood, you can extract them with a drill.

Step 3: Determine the Size of the Boards and Cut Them

After that, take measurements of the length and width of the wine rack, and then use a saw to cut the wood down to those dimensions. In order to construct the wine rack, you will need to cut out individual parts for the front, back, sides, and shelves. You may even cut extra pieces to create a decorative design to go on the front of the rack if you want to.

Step 4: Put together the wine rack.

It is time to put together the wine rack once all of the pieces have been cut to the appropriate dimensions. Put some screws into the bottom shelf so that the front and back pieces may be attached to it. After that, use screws to secure the side pieces to the front and back of the frame.

Attach the center support beams to the sides of the wine rack, ensuring sure that they are appropriately spaced apart from one another. After that, you can use screws to secure the remaining shelves to the support beams of the structure.

Step 5: Sand the Wine Rack and Apply a Coating

After the wine rack has been put together, use sandpaper or a sander to remove any splinters or rough edges that may have been present. After that, you have the option of staining or painting the wine rack so that it complements your interior design. This step is not required to complete the project, although doing so can give it a more polished appearance.

Step 6: Add Wine Bottles

At long last, it is time to begin placing your wine bottles on the rack! Put the bottles on the shelves of the wine rack and check to see that they are secure and stable after you've done so. You also have the option of including supplementary design components, such as holders for wine glasses or a chalkboard label that describes the wine you have chosen to serve.

Advice and Instructions for Constructing a Wine Rack Out of Pallets

Choose out pallets that have a size and shape that is consistent with one another to make cutting and measuring simpler.

If you want the cleanest possible cuts in the wood, you should do the chopping with a circular saw or a jigsaw.

Sand the wood before putting it together to make it easier to work with and to prevent splinters from occurring.

Use a level to check that your wine rack is standing upright and in the correct position.

If you are going to stain or paint your wine rack, you need to be sure that the finish you chose is non-toxic and appropriate for storing food and beverages.

You might want to think about installing a backing on your wine rack so that the bottles won't be able to fall through the back.

You may make a one-of-a-kind wine rack that reflects your own sense of style by experimenting with a variety of different designs and finishes.

If constructing a wine rack from scratch sounds like too much of a challenge for you, there are also a lot of pre-made wine racks that you can buy on the internet. Because they are available in a wide range of dimensions, designs, and materials, you should have no trouble locating one that is appropriate for your preferences as well as your financial constraints.

Having a specific location in which to  store your wine can assist you in maintaining a well-organized collection that is also simple to navigate, regardless of whether you opt to build your own wine racks out of pallets or buy one online. In addition, constructing a diy wine rack pallet is a satisfying and enjoyable do-it-yourself project that is certain to wow your family and friends.

Plans for building a wine rack out of pallets is an easy Do It Yourself project that is also kind to the environment and can be finished with just a few fundamental tools and materials. You can make a one-of-a-kind wine rack that is chic and fashionable by repurposing used pallets. This rack will serve both a practical and aesthetic purpose. So why not give it a shot and see if you can't turn your garbage into gold?

You can modify the proportions of your wine rack to accommodate the space you have available and your specific requirements. You could, for instance, build a wine rack that is tall and thin so that it can fit in a tight corner, or you could build a wine rack that is wide and shallow so that it can fit beneath a countertop.

If you want your wine rack to be easily moved around, especially if you plan to use it for parties or other events that take place outside, you might want to think about adding wheels or casters to the bottom of it.

If you want to add a splash of color or pattern to your wine rack, one option for decorating the front or sides is to use stencils, decals, or washi tape. This is an excellent method to give your wine rack a unique touch and make it stand out from the crowd.

Behind the shelves of your wine rack, you may hang your stemware by securing it with wine glass holders or hooks. This can help clear up space while also ensuring that your glasses are neatly arranged and easy to access.

If you are comfortable using a drill, you might want to consider installing LED lights in your wine rack so that it emits a glow that is warm and inviting. If you keep your wine rack in a room with low lighting or in the basement, this strategy may be particularly useful for you.

Consider utilizing natural finishes and stains on your wine rack, such as beeswax or coconut oil, if you want it to be even more environmentally friendly than it already is. These conventional coatings, which can sometimes be hazardous to the environment, can be replaced with these safe, non-toxic alternatives.

When designing your wine rack, don't be scared to let your imagination run wild! You are able to combine and match a variety of wood species, add ornamental components like as metal accents or rope handles, and even integrate recycled materials such as old pipes or wire mesh. The opportunities are truly limitless!

Buy a Wine Rack Online

If you think that making a wine rack out of pallets is a bit of a job for you, you might consider buying one online. But to buy wine rack online, you might need to consider the following:

Decide the dimensions and the storage capacity you require: Before you start looking for wine racks on the internet, make sure you have a general idea of how much room you have available in your house as well as the number of bottles you need to store. This will assist you in reducing the number of available options and will help you avoid choosing a wine rack that does not fulfill your requirements.

Examine the structure and the materials: Ensure that the wine rack is made of high-quality materials that are long-lasting and sturdy enough to support the weight of the wine bottles that you intend to store in it. Inspect the construction to ensure that the wine rack does not have any locations that are prone to breaking and that there are no weak spots.

Take the time to read reviews written by other customers about the wine rack that you are considering purchasing. This will provide you with an indication of the quality of the product, as well as whether or not other consumers have had great or negative experiences with it.

Check into your possibilities for modification: If you have certain requirements or preferences for your wine rack, you should look into your options for customization to see whether they can meet your requirements. Certain wine racks, for instance, may have shelves that are movable, or they may have the capacity to add more storage space.

Wine racks are available in a wide variety of forms and designs; thus, you should take into consideration the aesthetics of your home as a whole and select a wine rack that works well with the rest of your furnishings.

Verify the return policy: When you make a purchase, ensure that you have a good understanding of the return policy that the seller has in place. This will provide you piece of mind in the event that you are not happy with the purchase you made or if the wine rack arrives damaged.

It is up to you to either make a wood pallet wine rack yourself or purchase one on the internet. A wine rack that can both store and show off your collection of wines is an essential piece of equipment to have. A proper wine rack should be able to securely hold your wine bottles in a horizontal position. This position aids in maintaining the moisture level of the cork and prevents air from entering the bottle. This is absolutely necessary if you want the taste and quality of your wine to remain consistent throughout time.

In addition to serving its practical purpose, a wine rack needs to be aesthetically beautiful and work well with the other furnishings in your home. Be sure that the wine rack you construct, make, or buy online complements both your own sense of style as well as the general appearance and atmosphere of the space in which it will be placed. This is especially important if you intend to show the wine rack in a dining room.

Your overall enjoyment of wine is supposed to go up if you have a wine rack that keeps your bottles neatly arranged, in one place where they can be quickly retrieved, and in an environment that maintains their quality. Choose a wine rack that not only satisfies your needs and preferences but also enables you to get the most out of your wine experience, regardless of whether you go the do-it-yourself route, invest in a pre-made rack, or  buy wine rack online that is designed specifically for you.

[masterwoodworking]

For more information on The 16000 Woodworking Plans, use the link below: https://bit.ly/TedsGuide 

Do you love to entertain guests, but hate having to search for wine bottles every time someone wants a glass? If so, you'll love this easy DIY wine rack project! 

This rack is made from simple pieces of wood and can be customized to fit your needs. You can make it as simple or as complex as you want, and you can even stain or paint it to match your home's decor. All you need is a few supplies and some time to make this great wine rack project!

#woodworking plans #wine rack #diy project

[ultra-maha-us]

How Wooden Wine Racks Can Easily Grow With Your Collection

If you have a passion for wine and starting a wine collection, it would be a wise investment to buy wooden wine racks for your storage needs. Although there are many materials that can be used, wood has been proven to be the best. It's been used for centuries and is the preferred material for many retail outlets.

Not only is wood a great decorative addition to any home, it is sturdy as well. Wooden racks come with a few types of wood, such as redwood or pine and they can be finished with a stain or left unfinished.

Some of the more popular racks are the stackable or table top designs. Obviously if you decide Wooden Wine Racks on the stackable type you can add sections easily. Stackable wood wine racks also take up little space as you can start small, then build up or out as your wine collection grows. With all the choices you have you should have no trouble finding one that is perfect for your needs.

Table top racks come in several dimensions. This style of rack is compact along with being durable and sturdy. There is ample room for larger size wine bottles in this type of rack. Smaller spaces are also great places to use wooden wine racks, especially the table top models. Since they are more compact they add appeal to kitchens, family rooms or hallways. The rich look of wood works well with any furniture that you may have and you have the opportunity to match or complement your existing decor.

If you have a wine cellar in your home you may wish to look into the possibility of using commercial wooden wine racks as they may be the most cost effective option, especially if you have a large collection that you intend to grow over time.

[bimbo02]

Feeling so sensitive right now everything seems to be making me feel so little, idk what is going on. Brain is so scared and little right now. But also, I wanna have an all white apartment with stained wood kitchen table. Copper seats with woven seats and mustard and deep green satin cushions, with a white kitchen and marble counter top with sink in the middle with copper taps. The cupboards are filled with my favourite things same as my fridge and it is beautiful tik tok stacked with the tubs and beautiful organisation and few bottles of expensive alcohol my spice and flavour rack in glass jars labeled in aesthetic stickers, baking shelf, Electric stove and full kitchen collection of pots pans and utensils and plates, bowls and cups. Decked wine and cocktail classes, baking station and labeled glass jars with rice. Tea. Flour. Etc. comfy sexy couch with green accents, wooden coffee table lots of aesthetic books and bean bag like chairs. Fire place. With tv above. Candles in pink blown glass jars. Defuser. Shag carpet, and in the corner a lamp that warms the entire living room, comfy cute bathroom with banging shower that has great pressure and a bath that isn’t built into the wall on gold legs. Light up mirror and heated floors. Bedroom with a massive bed and fluffy Dunas and lots of pillows and many plants. Large full length mirror with warm fairy lights to warm the whole room with beautiful curtains covering large windows. White wardrobe and shoe shelving as well as a makeup table and big fluffy seat to do makeup in. And massive reading chair with delicate book case. Filled with feminist, informational society novels and accessional love novel as well as many cooking books. Two robes hang from back of bedroom door one is for early morning and makeup the other is after shower. Slippers by the bed side table on the shag carpet that covers the floor that the bed stands on. Two bedside tables one with phone and candles and a novel and last nights mug and water bottle. The other has rings n jewellery wallet n keys. Got a hamper basket. And bag stand. The corridor has a large interesting mirror and a shoe stand in the hall with wicker baskets for nacks. A constant smell of vanilla or some warming candle or nag champa. And lots of art from friends and pictures adorn the walls. Xxx.

Lol little odd rant.

[arsonistslut]

Chapter 27: Jeff Vs Jane

Eventually, after hours of wandering around in the dark, dingey alleyways of New Orleans, he came across a large, slightly rusted gate that beheld a long dirt path, leading to a towering home that he quickly recognized. Janey's new home. He'd seen it on the news during his stay in that mental institute sometimes, but he obviously never got to see it in person like this. Woods found the lack of a chain surprising..she was practically inviting him inside at this rate. Pushing open the door and proceeding down the driveway, he licked away the splattered blood near his mouth, the metallic sting that hit his tongue tasting much more familiar than it had any right to, this far forward from the day he mutilated his own face. He tried to open the front door, and when it didn't budge, he forced it open with his shoulder, seeing no point in not making a ruckus due to the secluded nature of the house and Jane being the only tenant that he knew of. Gripping the handle of his knife tightly, he called out to her.

"Oh, Janey! I'm here!"

He could already hear a door open upstairs, so he looked in the fridge and grabbed a bottle of red wine, pouring himself a glass from the cabinet as a frazzled-looking Jane cautiously walked down the stairs.

"C'mon, Janey..try it. I ain't afraid of you. Try and kill me, my back's turned."

Jeff downed the entire glass in one go..no attack came.

"Jeff..I'd sure as shit like to, but..hatred fucked me up. I think..I think I just need to forgive you, since..what you did has stayed with me for the last year. Besides..it might help you, too, and you seriously need it.."

Woods shook his head, letting out a long, pained sigh, his back still turned to Arkansas.

"I can't be helped, Jane. I don't want to be, either. Last time that happened, we both know how that ended. More fucking people died, that's all my life is! An endless cycle of death and..fuckin' depravity!"

"...Jeff. It doesn't have to be like that, though. I-I want to help you, I want all of this to just-"

"I'm unfixable, you dumb whore!!"

Jeff turned around as he yelled at Jane, the blood staining his clothes becoming all too visible as he approached, drawing his knife from his jacket's pocket.

"Look at me! I'm a goddamn monster, and that's all I'll ever be!"

"Who..Who'd you kill this time..?"

Morbid curiosity drove her at this point, horror plain on her rapidly whitening face. She could hardly describe how surreal it was seeing him face-to-face again..the flesh on his body stretched impossibly thin from heavy scarring, his face still split open from the knife he took to his face a year ago, blood riddling his whole body and dripping from his blade like a leaking faucet. It called to mind the horrifying mental images of the monsters she dreamed up in her head from mere description when she read a horror novel, except that horror was plain to see. It stood plain in front of her, holding a blood-drenched blade, fury in it's all too human eyes.

"Your adoptive family, Janey..old Donnie and whoever your brother was."

"No..you didn't..p-please tell me you didn't.."

Jane knew the request made no sense, but she refused to believe he'd taken them away, too..they were all she had outside of the news people she spoke to on occasion.

"Oh, they're dead, girlie..and you're fuckin' next! I'm about to finish what I started when I torched your house and cut your bitch's head off!"

Arkansas felt a tidal wave of rage begin to overtake her as he spoke. She didn't have anyone anymore. Jeff had taken everything, but he'd forgotten a principle rule of life.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

As Jeff let out a war cry and charged Jane at full speed, she grabbed a fire poker from the fireplace and rammed it into his upper lip, dragging it upwards until she'd cut straight through his left eye and it flew out, bits of his pale flesh still stuck to the poker. Woods fell backwards, leaning against the wall and screaming out in pain, dropping his knife as he screamed and cursed.

"My fuckin' eye!! You-"

Jeff was quickly interrupted by the sound of firewood igniting. Jane had thrown a lit zippo into her fireplace, and she grabbed him by his hoodie and proceeded to throw him into the fire, the wounded side of his face being pressed against the harsh flames. However, she was unable to do any more damage before he scurried away, half of his hair and the side of his head burnt, skin melting off like cheese on a pizza. Jane snatched up his knife and ran at him, leaping in the air only to be tackled mid-flight and sent through her coffee table with a crash, Woods sitting up and straddling her quickly as he attempted to wrestle the blade away from her. However, a shard of glass from the shattered table driven into his side hindered his attack, Jane sliding out from underneath him as he willed himself to remove the glass from his side. He looked behind him and saw Jane holding his knife, raising it in the air to stab him in the back, so he kicked her straight in the jaw with his foot, sending her reeling backwards from the force of the kick.

"I'll make sure this place burns as well, y'hear me?!"

He spat out at Jane, getting up and ignoring the pain shooting through his face and jamming the shard of glass into her shoulder, lifting her by the neck as he did and gaining a running start. Jeff flung his adversary straight through the door to her guest room, Jane narrowly dodging her head being crushed when he followed up with trying to jump on her head. He cackled maniacally between breaths, the adrenaline pumping through his veins serving as an intoxicating drug that kept him fighting. Narrowly dodging a blade to his neck, Woods grabbed a baseball bat from underneath the bed and swung for the fences at his rival, who dodged underneath and stabbed him in the knee with frightening speed. Forcing him down to a knee, Jane took her alarm clock and smashed it against his face, blood flying from his mouth as he fell onto the bed. Arkansas ripped the knife from his leg and went to stab him again, climbing in and smashing the blade next to his head, a narrow and costly miss.

He delivered a destructive fist right to Jane's cheek, before grabbing her black dress and smashing his head into her nose, shattering it like a window. Jeff kept hold of her, striking her in the gut with his knee before she broke out of grip, stumbling backwards as blood flew from the massive wound in his face. He knew he needed to end this fight sooner rather than later, so ripping the knife from the bed, he drove the blade deep within her stomach. His breath hitched as she screamed, the satisfaction he'd longed for finally arriving in an orgasmic wave. Longing for more of that sweet catharsis, he pressed Jane against the wall and twisted the blade, awful growling noises emanating from him as he savored every second, every droplet of Arkansas's blood running over his fingers, every disgusting noise she made as she coughed up blood.

"I..am the deadliest man on earth!"

He proudly boasted, a heat of the moment statement that was quickly cut short when Jane kicked him full-force in the balls.

"You..are the most self-absorbed lunatic on earth."

She hissed out as she fled, Jeff in too much pain to retort or give chase. Once he recovered, he scooped up the knife she'd pulled out and began hunting for her, listening as closely as he could for any noise, even though he'd lost his hearing and his vision from Arkansas's initial assault with the poker and the fireplace. Following the trail of blood she'd left behind from her various wounds, Woods went upstairs and walked toward his enemy's room, swinging open the door.

"Come on, Janey..I know you're here.."

The door slammed behind Jeff, Jane standing in the way with a lit molotov cocktail in her grasp.

"That doesn't matter now, does it?"

"...Oh. Oh, I see! You wanna burn me alive again..tell me this, how are you gonna get out of this exactly?"

"I don't intend to. Not anymore."

Jane threw the cocktail on the ground between them, the fire quickly spreading around them. Jeff's first idea was to escape through the window. No dice, they were boarded up from the inside. He couldn't tell from the outside due to the shades blocking his view of the boards, and she was in the way of his only exit. It didn't matter. Jeff ran forward, ignoring the fire around them and lifting Jane up before she could react, slamming her through the wooden, flaming floor of her room and landing in the bathroom, the ceramic bathtub breaking before their combing weight.

The harsh landing the two shared winded them both, Jeff and Jane lying in a pool of their mixing blood for what felt like centuries. Suddenly, Jane grabbed a shattered piece of the bathtub and smashed it over Jeff's head, sending him rolling away from her as she used her vanity to get up, sparks and flaming wood falling around her as the upstairs caught fire. Arkansas watched and smiled as Jeff ripped a towel rack from the wall, charging her and swinging wildly and desperately, leaving himself open to a punch in the wound in side, doubling him over and giving Jane the opportunity to send him stumbling back into the living room. They could both smell smoke, the house was beginning to burn down around them.

"Anything to say before I send you straight to hell?"

She asked, grabbing a hold of Woods's ankle. He couldn't respond..he could barely stay conscious at this point.

"Oh, don't go to sleep, Jeffrey..you won't wake up."

Jane broke his ankle with a loud snap, his foot bent at a horrid angle as she left him there to die.

Arkansas nearly passed out herself as she dragged herself out of the rapidly-igniting house, not caring that everything she owned was inside, charring away. She didn't notice any officers arriving, so as her vision got blurrier and blurrier, she turned around and flipped up both her fingers at the raging inferno her home had become, before finally passing out in her driveway.

#creepypasta #jeffery woods #liu woods #jeff the killer #sully #jane the killer #tw violence #tw coughing up blood

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

12. Watch This

"Okay," Erik paused. "Wait." One more shallow curve of his small black blade. "You can look," Erik breathed, eyes alight with excitement. Slowly, his face lowered closer to her thigh, catching the details of his work. He had gone over it twice ensuring that the lines were cut evenly in width and depth, the curves round with no breaks or edges, the picture pristine and clear. There would be no mistaking this time of what he had crafted. He was sure that what he made.. was absolutely perfect. His best work yet.

Briefly he glanced at Ivy's face strewn with tears which stained her youthful cheeks and reddened her once cotton white scleras. She hadn't made a peep, but she couldn't stop her tears or the lip she'd bitten throughout the process. He thought she'd chew through it. That would've been fun to watch.

His thick fingers traveled through blood from her thigh, rubbing it between his stocky fingers, allowing to stain his skin red.

"Such a pure red."

Touching the droplets of blood once more, he tapped his stained fingers to his tongue. The taste was metallic from the iron.

"You know this shit is lethal? Yeah, that vampire shit is bullshit. It looks fun until you end up in the hospital." A lightbulb went off in his head.

-----

"Hey Ivy," his head tilted watching her with the sickly ghost of a smirk. Ivy could hear his breathing pick up. It was a bad sign. Tired of his games and exhausted from the knife torture, she refused to respond. Not even a look in his direction. She continued to purposely ignore him until she saw him lift the knife in his hand. She watched from the corner of her eye.

"I see you looking at me. Watch this."

Blood began to drip down his forearm from his hand. It seemed he'd stuck himself in the hand with his knife on purpose. Ivy frowned, her lip twisting like her brows.

"Now you just sat up here and said that shit would send somebody to the hospital. You ain't got nobody else to fuck with as it is. One half dead, already in the hospital, one hate your fuckin guts by now, and here you go again... on that bullshit."

"You calling me out, Ms. Stevens? You think I'm reckless?"

"Why the fuck you gotta bleed cuz I'm bleeding? We both injured in this bitch because you wanna be a serial sadist. For no reason you on that bullshit!"

Turning his arm, he held his hand to her lips. "Drink," he commanded, smearing it on her lips when she refused.

-----

Ms. Stevens was a firecracker. Even under her current circumstances, she was on his ass and Erik couldn't help but to smile. It was refreshing to deal with a woman who was not so easily tamed. It meant she could take more of his art.. more play.. and he could push the envelope even further. , his attention returned her thigh. It looked even better with his changes.

"If this shit wasn't toxic, I'd lick it off your thigh," he sighed rubbing the skin he hadn't cut. He couldn't drink it because of the amount of iron that's in blood. A slight muscle movement drew his eye to the junction of her thighs.

"Wait, did that turn you on?"

Ivy's face screwed tightly into a tiny expression that read 'how the fuck?'

"Are you on crack cocaine?!" She was so fiery.

He hoped that part of her was actually turned on. Not that he'd fuck her, but he'd have a lot of fun exploring why exactly she was turned on.. making her explain it to him in detail. Maybe he'd cut her a slight break and leave her tied up for the night, check on her mom, carry on the next morning. It sounded like a plan.

"Whose this," he mumbled pulling his phone from his pocket. It'd vibrated and looking at the screen, he could see his security cameras had picked up a police car outside. He had company. If it was that dick-hungry officer, then maybe he could really have some fun.

"You stay put," he pointed to Ivy leaving her on her own still tied as he closed the soundproof door. He'd had installed and tested with the twins. Standing on one side, he'd had them yell as loudly as they could muster the other side. No sound had come through. This meant Ivy had no chance of ruining his fun.

He had to rinse his hand and arm of blood, bandaging it quickly and he had to check his clothing for blood. Finding a spot on his shirt, he scooted quickly to his bedroom hamper to toss it in. The doorbell alerted him that he had no time to waste. Chest bare, he walked coolly through his corridor to the front door, cracking it to where only a sliver of himself was seen

"Officer Howard," he greeted brows high. Perfect.

"You have a good memory," her head tilted looking him in the eye.

"I don't forget beautiful women easily, especially the ones who bring their own handcuffs," he smirked.

She shook her head. He could see in her humored expression she was into him, but why had she come?

"What brings you over here Officer?" He blatantly looked her up and down hoping that she noticed. His eyes roamed details of her uniformed curves before moving back up to focus in on her flattered freckled face. She was alone, no backup.

"I'm actually here to ask you a few questions.... What else can you tell me about Ivy Stevens?"

This late? Damn.

"You mean the young lady who tried to ruin my career and try my character," Erik sighed resting a hand high on the door frame so that his body was even more on display. What was she asking him for? Did it look like had anything to do with that girl?

The way Officer Howard ogled his chest and arm muscles, looking over his pattern of scars, he wondered if she'd actually drop her guard. Then he could have the upper hand. She gave a tight smile, nodding empathetically.

"Sorry to bother you at home, but as I said.. protocol. You mind letting me in?"

"You gonna arrest me if I don't?"

Her eyes narrowed but there was a hint of a smile on her.

"Cuz I might like that," he teased holding out his wrists. When Officer Howard smirked, he chuckled and opened the door wide for her. He had the perfect spot to lead her to.

In the parlor, he went straight to the bar which was covered with various liquor bottles. The custom wine rack was of reclaimed wood and held 40 bottles of wine. He held his hand out over the bottles on the bar.

"Pick your poison."

-----

"Rum and coke."

Settling on the white plush velvet couch, Trinity looked around the room noting the paintings. This was a man who loved art.

"..Since you're offering," she added.

The art seemed purposely rough, textured. Wild horses mid-run and green forestry. It all seemed average enough.. masculine and active. Seemed to fit Dr. Stevens well.

"What's that," Trinity nodded toward the glass Dr. Stevens hovered above. He'd just drizzled an off white semi translucent glaze into it.

"Coconut syrup..," he paused. "You ain't never mix it in your rum & coke," his brow raised. Trinity rolled her eyes as he tsked. "What type of wackass liquor you been drinking Ms. Howard?"

She bristled at the unexpected profanity. She knew she had a potty mouth, but his caught her by surprise. She was really in his house. He was definitely more comfortable and free compared to when she'd first met him. He'd seemed a bit more uptight in his office. Blinking, she watched as he rubbed his hands together as if getting serious. This relaxed side of the good dentist really turned her on.

"I drink STRAIGHT rum mixed with coke," Trinity stressed slowly.

"Watch this." He ducked low and when he came up, he produced silver tongs holding a large clear and perfectly square ice crystal cube and a small white sack which he removed a brown mallet from before dropping in the cube.

Trinity was impressed. In level of class, he'd already surpassed every excuse for a grown man she'd been with. He knew how to cater to a woman like a real man ought to. If she could end this Ivy Ivy Stevens situation and confirm her location off in the islands or, hell, Mexico.. wherever. As long as she was breathing.. she could make a move on this man and claim a husband.

Wham! Wham! Wham!

Trinity watched his thick forearm as he slammed the mallet against the sack holding the crystal ice block. He had aggression, but it didn't touch his baby-like face.

"You caught me just in time. I was just about to shower," he smiled up, dumping the crushed ice into the glass filling it passed the rim.

"Mhm. Your markings," she gestured to her own chest, "Those are unique. What's uh.. what are those about?"

Someone had scarred him all up. That was worth remembering and recording. He didn't seem shy or ashamed, in fact he appeared to be parading his markings. Maybe he liked them. Maybe he'd had them done for whatever reason, which was odd. She hadn't figured him for a guy into those bizarre modifications. But then he surprised her with his profanity as well. He seemed more extreme or mischievous than what she'd originally thought. The thought came to her that maybe she should question him a bit more just to be thorough.

"My family is officially from Africa and in our tribe, it's not abnormal. It's simply cultural."

Trinity nodded as he juiced a fresh lime into the glass chasing it with half a can of coke, and topping it off with rum. After stirring, he handed her the rum and coke in the pint glass and returned to the bar pouring shot of vodka for himself.

"Cheers," he said raising his glass.

Trinity watched him as they drank in silence.

"You said you're from Africa. What country?"

"Wakanda."

"Isn't that near Kenya?"

"It is, you been to Kenya?"

"I haven't been past Mexico," Trinity scoffed. She'd gotten piss drunk there with friends after calling off work with a fake death in the family. It was a trip she couldn't miss. "I went by your office earlier to speak with you but it seemed that you were closed."

"No appointments. I went ahead and let my staff go home."

"Speaking of staff, how's Draya," Trinity stared, sipping her drink. She watched his eyes narrow briefly before lowering to his empty glass. 

"She's in the hospital.. I'm sure you've heard about the attack."

"An ex attacked her," Trinity nodded. "There is something that's been bothering me." It was a thought that had only recently come. She decided to go ahead and get his reaction. "Reports say that Draya was covered in scars. Is she from Wakanda too?"

He met her eyes then, quiet. She'd touched a nerve.

"No, Ms. Howard. She is not."

"Had you ever seen her scars?" Trinity took another sip, watching the irritation build in his eyes.

"I have not. In what instance would I have possibly seen them?"

"You tell me," Trinity squinted. "And what happened to your hand?" This was actually going somewhere and she hadn't expected it to. He was defensive

"I have a suspicion," Trinity stood looking around. She walked around the room touching random items that stuck out to her.

"And what is your suspicion?"

She turned at the edge in his voice. She was really hitting on something now. His brow was raised, arms crossed.

"I'll ask you once more time about Ivy Stevens. I'm beginning to think you did something to the girl. Unless you can change my mind, I might have to make you my suspect number one."

-----

Erik watched as Officer Howard moved around. She was getting nosier and thinking entirely too much. It was irritating and the more it went on, the more he couldn't hide it.

However.. He'd anticipated this when he'd seen her face. It was a good thing he'd invested in soundproof walls, she'd have probably called the department and had Ivy escorted out by now.

He poured himself another shot as she watched his movements.

"I told you what I knew," he said simply, a countdown starting in his head as he took a sip of his drink. He watched as she paced and moved his items around.

30 seconds.

Her feet crossed. She'd almost lost her balance.

"I somehow doubt that and I'm going to find out your level of involvement because something ain't adding up."

"Mhm," he sighed with another sip. As she rambled, he counted. 15, 14, 13..

"You're awfully silent now," she frowned. She looked physically uncomfortable, overheated. Her freckled skin developing a sweat sheen.

"Am I?" He chuckled.

"That's funny to you?"

"You're a joke," he laughed. "Don't hit your head on the way down."

She lowered her chin, a threat in her eyes. "Excuse you?"

"You feeling dizzy yet?" He could tell she was. She reached for her pocket and he ducked behind the bar, popping with a gun before she could touch anything in her pocket. He didn't even get to threaten her, she passed out, her body thudding to the floor, her head hitting the corner of the couch. He checked to see if there was blood, but there wasn't. She would probably wake with a heavy headache.

#original #dentist

[stolethekey]

so, what’s the past for? i’ll need it if love don’t last long

notes: this is for @romanogersweek.

it feels a little weird to be posting fanfic right now, but i hope y’all take this as an opportunity to take a break from reading/donating/educating rather than one to leave. 

donate to the bail project here.

read on ao3

-

Steve Rogers, long ago, was the man who never ran. He was the man who faced down his problems and enemies indiscriminately, who spat in the face of both Nazi generals and the very idea that anything could keep him from fighting for a better world. He used to be the paragon of bravery, the man who worked to uphold his reputation as the symbol of courage his country held in the highest regard.

Until that one fateful day, when he’d decided to run—away from the death and destruction, away from the friends he’d seen suffer too much pain to be truly happy ever again, away from time itself. He ran, straight until another timeline, hardly conscious of what he was doing until he ended up standing on the doorstep of a woman he’d last seen lying peacefully in a casket.

By the grace of God, or maybe the devil, Peggy had been home that day. After she’d recovered from her shock, she’d welcomed him in, he’d asked almost clumsily for a dance, and when the music stopped she’d pulled back and said, “I want to introduce you to Daniel.”

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he likes Daniel. Daniel is sarcastic and witty but warm and solid—a safe place for Peggy’s often slightly-chaotic personality to land. So he’d shaken Daniel’s hand and accepted his invitation to stay for dinner and then stayed the night because, honestly, where else was he supposed to go?

And then one night turned into two, which turned into a week, and then Steve ended up staying in their house permanently. They established a general rule that he was not allowed to tell them about the future, but could contribute to strategy discussions about missions he had never heard about. He helped them during the day and tried to stay up helping them at night, except Peggy started chasing him to bed with a broom a few weeks in.

He’s never liked sleeping much, but after—well, after everything, he likes it even less. 

Some of the dreams he’s familiar with: the nightmares and memories full of too much blood and smoke and explosions that rack his imaginary body with tremors come initially, as he expects. Those he can deal with; those he has dealt with for years. The ones that he is markedly not equipped to deal with are the ones that come later: the ones that aren’t vague flashbacks or terrifying possible futures but vivid, specific memories, memories that leave him with an aching heart and stinging eyes when he wakes. 

Steve thinks this distinctly unfair, given that these memories haunt his waking moments too; but his life has never been fair, and so each night he succumbs to more and more detailed recollections of moments running infinitely around in his head. 

The worst ones are always about her. Those run his mind in what feels like slow motion, forcing him to relive even the most minute details of the days they were carefree and alive and happy, at least as much as they could be. He starts seeing flashes of vivid red hair and brilliant green eyes everywhere, and in his dreams, they’re inescapable. In his dreams, she’s inescapable. 

In his dreams, Natasha is always there. Sometimes, she’s perched in the passenger seat with her feet on the dashboard where he’d always hated them, laughing at him as he steers the car down an open country road, the two of them alone in the car in the middle of the night. He turns the music up to drown out her laughter and she smirks, promptly deciding to sing along to the sounds of Out of the Woods coming through the stereo instead.

“Come on,” she coaxes, her voice still viscerally real in the layers of his unconsciousness. “I know you know this song.”

“I will not,” he says, but a smile is still floating unwittingly to his lips, and by the time he pulls into the open clearing he’s belting are we in the clear yet, in the clear yet, good with a fervor that would impress any concert crowd. 

Sometimes, it starts in that clearing, with him shutting off the car and the two of them lingering in the darkness for a moment. He pulls open her car door, the moonlight filtering into the seat and casting a soft, silver glow over her features. She comes willingly, laying a blanket on the ground with a flourish as she steps out of the vehicle. 

“When did Tony say it was starting, again?”

Steve checks his watch, and he’s seen this dream enough times to know exactly where the second hand is going to be when he does. “Five minutes.”

They settle onto the blanket, side by side, and he glances over at her. “What was the first shooting star you ever saw?”

She meets his gaze, her smile soft and nothing like the cold, calculating grin she’d given a certain arms dealer mere hours before. There is a brief moment of hesitation, and then she smirks. “You.”

His mouth falls open before he digs an elbow into her side, and she laughs. “Get it? Because you had a gun, and that stupid star on your uniform—”

“Yeah, yeah, a shooting star,” he groans, letting his head fall back onto the ground. “Shut up.”

She does, but only because the atmosphere around them tangibly changes—Steve feels it too. A second later, a jet of silver streaks across the sky, and Natasha sucks an audible breath through her teeth. 

He looks over at her, and watches the second meteor through the reflection in her eyes—the silver makes them glean, and she grins at him. 

“Enjoying the view?”

He shoves her, she laughs, and he thinks he could live in this moment forever. 

Sometimes, they’re standing on top of a massive hill, gazing at the city of Rome, beautiful and regal below them. And even though it’s a dream, he can feel the heavy exhaustion of a battle just fought seeping into his bones, can sense the relief of another disaster narrowly averted cloaking his shoulders. 

Natasha reaches for him, the streak of blood on her face looking real enough to touch, and gazes out at the sprawling city beneath the hill. “I almost wish we could stay,” she murmurs. 

She doesn’t voice the rest of the sentiment—that they could stay here, in this world away from the world, and live normal lives. Become normal people, people who window shop and sit in cafes and don’t have to save the world every other day.

She doesn’t say it, because she knows he understands, and also because they both know it’s impossible.

“Me too.”

There are other dreams, too—dreams where they’re both tired and sad and frustrated; dreams where their friends have been snapped into thin air and the ones that haven’t been are gone too. 

There are dreams where they’re the only two people left in the gigantic, designed-for-at-least-fifty-residents Avengers facility, where he walks into a room with zero lights on and her crying. 

“You know, I used to think it was hard to tell when you were scared,” he says, trying valiantly to lighten the mood. “But not so much anymore.”

She looks at him ruefully through her tears. “You don’t have to do this every time.”

He shrugs and gives her the best smile he can muster. “I have no idea what you mean. I’m just passing by, and I don’t want to leave you if you’re crying.”

She glares at him, but gives a half-laugh, and he moves to sit next to her. He doesn’t say that he knows she tries to hide from him when she’s crying, that he actively tries to find her when he hasn’t seen her in a few hours. He doesn’t tell her that he needs her there, by her side, that he’s terrified he’s going to lose her, finally, irrevocably, for real, every time it happens.

Her tears subside, every time, and every time he leaves once they do. She lets him go, turning back toward the screens with a sigh, and he watches her back straighten as she goes back to business. 

Never, in any of the dreams or memories or whatever they are at this point, does he stay. He would if she asked him to.

And then there’s the worst one, from the night before that day, where she shows up at his door before curfew with a bottle of wine in one hand and a key in the other. 

“It’s for my apartment,” she says, placing it gently in his hand. “Just in case.”

She cuts off all of his protests with a sad, firm smile, then uncorks the bottle of wine and pours it into two of his water glasses. 

They talk, about everything and nothing, and at one point she perches on his bed and tucks her knees into her chest. 

“I don’t know if anything is ever gonna go back to normal,” Natasha says quietly. “It all feels broken, somehow. Unfixable.”

“What does?”

“Everything,” she says, gesturing at the walls around them. “Life itself.”

He doesn’t know why that hurts a little to hear, but he shrugs and stands anyway. “We still have to try. For everyone.”

“I know,” she murmurs, draining the last of her wine and standing too. “Trust me, I know.”

It’s the last real conversation they have, and it’s always the last one that plays before Steve wakes. 

For weeks, Steve gets out of bed in the morning with tears staining his cheeks and a rush to the bathroom to collect himself, but Peggy intercepts his mad sprint one day and forces him to sit at the kitchen table and talk. He says he doesn’t want to and she gives him a withering glare that would probably topple a wall of solid rock.

He tells her about Natasha, about the aliens, the assassins out to kill them, the Accords. He doesn’t tell her about HYDRA, or about the midnight drives, the shooting stars, about Rome.

Peggy seems to understand anyway, and for some reason the sympathy in her eyes melts away some of the ache in Steve’s chest.

When he runs out of stories to tell, he starts talking about her past, about the way she was taken from her parents as a child and then trained in the Red Room.

“Those ladies are tough,” Peggy says with an impressed nod. “One of them escaped my locked trunk after I’d tied her wrists and ankles, then shot a policeman with his own gun on her way out. And that was when I was trying to work with her.”

“Nat almost never obeyed orders after she had turned,” Steve says with a laugh. “I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like to try and work with her while she was still at the Red Room.”

“Well, she was the only one who could do the job. We needed her.”

Daniel snorts from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter. “For the record, I thought it was a bad idea,” he mutters, earning him that exasperated but loving Peggy Carter glare that had once been reserved for Steve.

Steve is slightly surprised to find that he doesn’t mind at all. 

-

As the years go by, the memories become gradually less painful. The ache becomes a little duller, the wounds a little less fresh. The Carter-Sousa household adds a third long before children come into the picture, and they slip with only minor hiccups into a routine that works for everyone. Steve’s only allowed in public with a disguise, so while Peggy and Daniel are at work he spends his time drawing, cooking, cleaning, and generally being a good housekeeper. When they get home, he helps them with plans if he can and plays old card games if he can’t.

When the kids do arrive, Steve teaches and nurtures them as his own, and he gets through it with only vague stabs of pain as he remembers the Barton family. They know only that he is hiding from the world and that no one can know about him. They grow into strong, incredible adults, and when they move out Steve wipes away a tear that matches the ones coating Peggy’s and Daniel’s cheeks.

Peggy and Daniel are older, obviously, when the house goes back to holding only the three of them, and Steve starts picking up more of the dirty work. They both retire far later than most people would, finally admitting defeat to bodies that just can’t keep up with their younger colleagues and targets anymore. It’s hard, watching them become unable to do anything but gesture in frustration at the news, but it’s not as hard as it was to arrive at Peggy’s hospital bed, so many decades before. 

He’s had enough time, this time, with her. They’ve spent fifty years in the same household, they’ve had a life together. So he cherishes the wrinkles that now adorn her hands and the lines of her face, and he ventures outside to run errands with only the slightest twinge in his heart.

The only time he ever dislikes this whole arrangement is on a single grocery store trip.

He collects everything on his list with little issue, keeping his hood up and his head low as he peruses one particularly crowded aisle for the hot sauce Peggy likes. Nobody pays him any attention, and as Steve wheels his cart into the checkout lane he congratulates himself on a faultless grocery run—God knows he’s had some close calls.

One would think he’d have learned some lessons about celebrating too soon.

He’s aimlessly selecting a pack of gum and skimming magazine covers (Brad Pitt is the sexiest man alive this year, according to People) when he hears a laugh. 

An unmistakable, once life-affirming, thought-he’d-never-hear-it-again laugh.

His blood freezes over in his veins as his hands go slack, the Trident mint in his hand falling onto the conveyer belt and tumbling underneath a couple bags of Doritos. He stares at the fallen gum for a moment, not seeing it at all, before forcing himself to raise his head. 

She’s there, in the flesh, helping the customer in front of him—her nametag says Natalie, and her hair is darker than it was when he met her, but it’s definitely her, and Steve thinks he might faint then and there. His hand tightens around the cart as he fumbles his phone out of his pocket and stares at the date—November 15, 2000. Of course. 

Steve is desperately trying to find a way to get out of this when the woman in front of him takes her last bag and leaves with a grateful wave. Steve swallows thickly as Natasha beckons him forward, smiling brightly at him as she does. 

There is no recognition in her eyes—of course there isn’t—and something about being a stranger to her makes him want to grip the counter in front of him so tightly that it breaks.

She says something, but he doesn’t hear her; his ears are full of a roaring, sharp wind, and suddenly he’s back on a dark, foreign planet, a jagged cliff behind him and a limp body lying broken in front of him. He can feel the cold, tough dirt between his fingers again, can see the ice crystals forming on the strands of red hair he had run his fingers through so many times.

Her eyebrows knit together in mild concern as her mouth moves inaudibly once more, and Steve wrenches his mind back to reality. 

“Sorry,” he manages. “What was that, again?”

Natasha gives him a perfectly practiced customer-service smile and says, “How are you today?”

“Great,” Steve says, trying and failing to keep an edge of panic out of his voice. “Just dandy. You?”

“Well, you know, a little nervous,” Natasha says easily, swiping a can of chickpeas past the scanner. “It’s my first day on the job.”

He remembers. He also remembers her seated at the foot of his bed, playing with her hair while she told him about one of the first missions for SHIELD she’d ever failed.

“I was undercover as a cashier at a Safeway—”

“O-oh,” Steve sputters. “I’m sure you’re doing great.”

“Well, so far, so good—"

 “I had him, for a moment, and then I didn’t—”

“—But, you know, things can always change, right?”

Steve feels curiously as if his head is swimming, and he doesn’t think he can hear anymore. He wonders dimly if Peggy would find him, were he to faint in a grocery store. 

“He’d somehow stolen my nametag while we were scuffling and I didn’t even notice—”

“Um, sir?”

“He picked the lock with the pin—”

“Sir!”

Steve jumps. His hand smacks against his cart on the way up, the rattling of the metal doing nothing to calm his nerves.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head to clear it. “Did you say something?”

Natasha frowns, and the familiarity of the sight almost sends him back into the recesses of his brain. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, trying to sound unconcerned. “Yeah. Long day, sorry.”

She gives him a sympathetic smile and hits the keyboard. “That’ll be two hundred and one dollars and thirty-five cents. Paper or plastic?”

“Uh, paper,” Steve mutters, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Thanks.”

He takes the bags off the counter as soon as she fills them, trying his best not to look like he’s impatient but still trying to move as quickly as possible. When the bags are all in the cart, he grabs the handle and speed-walks away, throwing a feeble “thank you” over his shoulder. 

He looks behind him the entire way out of the store, relaxing slightly only when he turns the corner to a different area of the parking lot. Then, as he spots his car, he almost has his second heart attack of the day.

Natasha is standing next to the trunk with her arms crossed and a half-guarded, half-inquisitive look on her face. 

“Do I know you?” She asks as he shuts his eyes, desperately praying that this is a dream. 

Once it becomes clear that this is not, Steve takes a deep breath and resigns himself to whatever nightmare scenario happens next. 

“No,” he says hoarsely, unlocking his trunk and gesturing at her to move aside.

“But you know me,” she says matter-of-factly, taking a step to the left and watching him place the bags she’d just packed into his trunk. “At least, you seem to.”

Steve stays silent as he finishes loading his groceries and shuts the trunk door, then turns to face her. “I’d rather not do this here,” he says quietly. “Where I’m exposed.”

“Okay.” Natasha shrugs. “Follow me.”

She leads him into a small, dark alleyway behind the store. Steve thinks the overwhelming scent of garbage is going to rot his brains forever, but he does appreciate that they probably won’t be overheard.

“So,” Natasha prompts. “Who are you?”

Steve hesitates. He’s made it decades without telling anyone anything—besides Peggy and Daniel, of course—and a prickle of anxiety is creeping up his spine at the mere thought of saying the words out loud. 

On the other hand, that anxiety is nothing compared to the way he’s pretty sure his nerves are currently fraying at the edges, and he’s sure that Natasha would see right through him if he decided to try and lie his way out of this. 

Besides, if there’s one person who can keep a secret, it’s her.

He settles on a half-truth, one that gets him out of most of the hard conversations but is still hopefully enough to satisfy her.

“I’m, uh, from the future,” he says carefully. “I promise.”

Her eyes narrow, her natural skepticism overtaking her features. He can see her brain working, can see her scrutinizing his facial expression, his body language, anything that might betray a hint of a lie.

“I believe you,” she says finally. “Some of the tech I’ve seen being developed…well. Do you work for SHIELD?”

“I did.”

“So we worked together?”

He gives what sounds like a half-laugh, half-sob. If meteor showers and midnight drives and painful conversations overlooking the city of Rome are “working together”—

“You could say that.”

She bites her lip, assuming the thoughtful expression he knows to mean she’s trying to decide whether she wants to know the answer to whatever question she’s going to ask, then tilts her head slightly. “Can you tell me one more thing?”

Steve nods.

“When I die, have I contributed something good to this world?”

He almost chokes on his breath, staring at her with equal parts wonder and horror. “How—Why—"

“You were a little too surprised to see me,” Natasha says wryly. 

Half a century, apparently, is enough time to forget how well Natasha can read people. How well she can read him. 

“You give more to the world than you could imagine,” Steve says softly. “You save it. More than once.”

Her smile is more relieved than anything, and Steve wants to bask in its remnants forever. This is a younger Natasha, a less-worn Natasha—he’d almost forgotten how she’d looked before the snap, before she’d chosen to take on a burden that was far too heavy for anyone to carry.

This is the Natasha that he’d catch dancing in the early light of dawn, carefree and lost in her solitary art, even if it was just for a moment. The one that’d been lost five years before the rest of her was, too.

“Well,” she says as her watch beeps, breaking Steve out of his reverie, “I should get going. I assume you know I’m not actually here to bag groceries.”

“Of course.” Steve moves to leave, then turns back towards the disgusting, garbage-lined alleyway, suddenly aware that his next words are the last words he’s ever going to say to her. That he has a chance, now, to do what he hadn’t been able to do so long ago. 

He wants to tell her that the key to her apartment is still on his keychain, sandwiched between the keys to his car and his current house. He wants to tell her that his fingers brush against it as he unlocks the door or starts his engine; he wants to tell her that it’s the only thing he has left of her. That everything she has—everything they have—is going to be destroyed in about twenty years, that a big purple titan is going to ruin any hope he has of living a life that he is unequivocally happy with.

Instead, he says, “Take your nametag off before you go after him. Trust me.”

Maybe, in this timeline, she’ll remember. As she makes her decision on that icy, god-forsaken mountain, maybe she’ll think about today. Maybe she’ll think about this mission, the one that went smoothly, and wonder if he’d used his last words to make things a little bit easier. And maybe she’ll think about all the other ones, too, the ones where they fought side-by-side, and realize that this was him trying to do it one last time.

Her soul is hers, he knows—but he’ll help it move if he can.

The corner of her mouth ticks up in a half-smile. “Aye-aye, captain.”

He almost laughs.

#romanogersweek #my mcu fics #steve rogers x natasha romanoff #romanogers #prompt: timeless love