#1. Teak Wood
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Top 4 Choices for Outdoor Furniture That Are Durable
Top 4 Choices for Outdoor Furniture That Are Durable
Building a comfortable outdoor place needs furniture that will last. Finding your way around all the different materials and styles can be hard, though. Design fans, don't worry! This guide reveals the Top 4 Choices for Outdoor Furniture That Are Durable, making sure that your haven lasts for years to come.
1. Teak Wood
Teak is the best wood for building because it is naturally beautiful, lasts a long time, and is resistant to damage from water, insects, and bends. This sturdy wood will get a beautiful silver shine over time. It doesn't need much care because it's so thick. At first, teak costs more than other choices, but it's worth it because it lasts a long time and doesn't need much care, especially when the weather is bad.
2. Powder-Coated Aluminum
Aluminium is strong and light at the same time, which makes it a great material for making open living areas and moving furniture around comfortably. We recommend this choice because it is reliable and can be used inside or outside because it doesn't rust or fade and can handle strong sunlight and changing weather. Powder finishing makes it work better by adding extra safety and beautiful customizing options. Aluminum stands out as a great material because it is both useful and beautiful. You can easily move it around it's very immune to the weather, and you can style it in many different ways.
3. Wrought Iron
Wrought iron is loved for its classic look and durability, but it needs regular upkeep because it rusts easily, especially in damp places. Proper care can turn it into a treasured family keepsake, but it needs to be taken care of regularly. Powder-coated cast iron is an option that doesn't need much care and is both durable and easy to clean. Powder-coated cast iron is the best choice for people who want a long-lasting option that doesn't need much care.
4. HDPE (High-Density Polyethylene):
There is more HDPE (High-Density Polyethylene) around because it is cheap, lasts a long time, and doesn't break down in bad weather. This eco-friendly material is great if you have kids or pets because it won't fade, crack, or split. It doesn't need much care and lasts a long time, so it's a good choice for chairs outside. HDPE comes in a variety of styles to fit different tastes and outdoor looks. The fact that it is bendable and doesn't get damaged by bad weather means that it can be used on decks in the backyard and as lounges by the pool. HDPE lets people have beautiful, long-lasting outdoor furniture that doesn't need to be fixed up all the time or fall apart over time.
Beyond the Material:
Remember that longevity isn't just about the material. If you want to buy furniture, make sure it is well-built and has rust-proof hardware and joints. To protect yourself from the sun and water, choose pieces with UV-protected fabrics and pillows that dry quickly.
The Good Thing About Sitoro:
Sitoro, an Indian company in Pune that manufactures outdoor furniture, knows how important it is to have furniture that lasts. What they offer:
Top-notch materials that don't rust: Sitoro uses marine-grade plastic, powder-coated aluminium, teak wood, and other high-quality materials that last a long time in the Indian environment.
Professional skill: The furniture from Sitoro is known for its high quality and careful attention to detail. It is also made to last.
Sustainable practices: Sitoro places a premium on responsible sources and makes sure that production has as little of an effect on the earth as possible.
Customization options: You can change the furniture to fit your wants and tastes, making a one-of-a-kind, long-lasting outdoor space.
We recommend picking out furniture from these top 5 choices and working with a trustworthy company like Sitoro to make an outdoor place that fits your style and will last for years. So go outside, enjoy what's around you, and let Sitoro help you build your dream outdoor refuge that can withstand any storm.
#1. Teak Wood#2. Powder-Coated Aluminum#3. Wrought Iron#4. HDPE (High-Density Polyethylene)#Top 4 Choices for Outdoor Furniture That Are Durable#Choices for Outdoor Furniture That Are Durable
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Enjoy the best products deals on halfpe.com
#https://halfpe.com/products/hand-crafted-single-wood-teak-wood-chopping-board-for-cutting-1#wooden chopping board
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Maximizing Space and Comfort with a Single Seater Sofa: A Practical Solution for Small Living Areas
As homeowners, we are constantly searching for ways to optimize our living spaces while still maintaining a sense of comfort and functionality. This is especially true for those of us who reside in smaller living areas, where every square inch counts. Often times, we are faced with the challenge of finding furniture pieces that can fulfill both our spatial and comfort needs, without sacrificing one for the other. This is where the single seater sofa comes into play. A practical solution for small living areas, the single seater sofa offers the perfect balance between space-saving design and comfortable seating. In this article, we will explore the various benefits and features of the single seater sofa, and how it can help maximize both space and comfort in your home. From its versatile design to its practical functionality, we will delve into why this furniture piece is becoming a popular choice for those looking to optimize their living spaces. So let’s sit back and discover how the single seater sofa can revolutionize the way we think about furniture in small living areas.
1. Compact design for limited spaces.
When it comes to furnishing small living areas, finding the right furniture that combines both space-saving functionality and comfort is crucial. In this regard, a single seater sofa proves to be a practical solution. The compact design of a single seater sofa allows it to fit effortlessly into limited spaces, making it an ideal choice for apartments, studios, or small living rooms. With its petite dimensions, such as the wooden sofa 1 seater or the single seater teakwood sofa, it provides a comfortable seating option without overwhelming the room. The teak wood furniture, known for its durability and timeless appeal, adds a touch of elegance to any space, making it a perfect investment for those seeking both style and functionality. When looking for high-quality single seater sofas and other teak wood furniture, aakriti.store is a reliable source that offers a wide range of options to suit different preferences and budgets. With their expertise in crafting furniture that maximizes space and comfort, a single seater sofa from aakriti.store can transform even the smallest living area into a cozy and inviting space to relax and unwind.
2. Versatile functionality for everyday use.
At aakriti.store, we understand the importance of versatile functionality for everyday use when it comes to choosing furniture for small living areas. Our single seater sofas, including the wooden sofa 1 seater and the single seater teakwood sofa, are specifically designed to meet this requirement. With their compact yet comfortable design, these sofas not only maximize space but also offer a practical seating solution for individuals or small families. Whether you need a cozy spot to relax after a long day or an extra seat for guests, our single seater sofas provide the versatility you need. They are not only aesthetically pleasing with their timeless teak wood construction but also durable, ensuring they can withstand the demands of daily use. Experience the perfect blend of style and functionality with our range of single seater sofas and other teak wood furniture options available at aakriti.store.
3. Ergonomic support for maximum comfort.
When it comes to furnishing small living areas, comfort should never be compromised. That’s why our single seater sofas at aakriti.store are not only designed to maximize space but also provide ergonomic support for maximum comfort. We understand the importance of creating a seating arrangement that promotes proper posture and reduces discomfort, especially in compact living areas. Our single seater teakwood sofas, crafted with precision and attention to detail, feature ergonomically designed backrests and cushions that offer optimal support to the body. With their carefully placed armrests and well-padded seating, our sofas ensure that you can unwind and relax without compromising on comfort. Whether you’re reading a book, watching your favorite show, or simply enjoying a moment of quiet solitude, our single seater sofas provide the perfect seating experience. Discover the perfect blend of style, functionality, and comfort with our range of single seater sofas and other teak wood furniture options available at aakriti.store.
4. Durable material for long-term use.
Durable material is essential when it comes to choosing furniture that can withstand the test of time. At aakriti.store, we prioritize the use of high-quality materials, such as teak wood, for our single seater sofas. Teak wood is renowned for its durability and ability to withstand various weather conditions, making it an excellent choice for long-term use. Our single seater teakwood sofas are crafted with precision and care, ensuring that they can withstand everyday wear and tear without compromising their structural integrity. With proper maintenance, our teak wood furniture can last for generations, providing you with a long-lasting investment that will continue to enhance the aesthetics and functionality of your small living area. Trust in the durability of our single seater sofas, designed with the finest quality materials, to bring both longevity and style to your home.
5. Streamlined style for modern aesthetic.
When it comes to furnishing small living areas, maximizing space is crucial. But it doesn’t mean compromising on style. At aakriti.store, we understand the importance of a modern aesthetic, which is why our single seater sofas are designed with a streamlined style that perfectly blends functionality and elegance. Our wooden sofa 1 seater options feature clean lines, minimalistic designs, and sleek finishes, all of which contribute to creating a contemporary look that complements any modern interior decor. With our single seater teakwood sofas, you can elevate the visual appeal of your small living area without sacrificing comfort or space. The teak wood furniture from aakriti.store is not only durable but also adds a touch of sophistication to your home. Experience the perfect fusion of practicality and style with our range of single seater sofas, carefully crafted to meet your needs and enhance the overall aesthetic of your living space. At aakriti.store, we are committed to providing you with furniture that combines functionality, durability, and a modern aesthetic, allowing you to create a small living area that reflects your personal style and maximizes comfort.
As we have discussed, a single seater sofa can be a game-changing piece of furniture for small living areas. It not only maximizes space but also provides comfort and functionality. Whether you live in a small apartment or have a compact living room, a single seater sofa is a practical solution that can make a big difference. So, if you’re looking to optimize your space without compromising on comfort, consider investing in a single seater sofa. We hope this post has helped you understand the benefits and versatility of this furniture piece. Happy decorating!
#single seater sofa#wooden sofa 1 seater#single seater teakwood sofa#teak wood furniture#aakriti.store
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On the tenth day of GOATmas, my true love sent to me...
...beds! Wood recolors of beds!
I've recolored every bed that EA has created in a pack or expansion that:
1) already had wood recolors
2) didn't have wood recolors, but I felt that wood recolors suited them
For the colors: I am using Dynamite, Depth Charge, Shrapnel, Safety Fuse and Time Bomb by @pooklet, and Nesert and Honey by Io aka @serabiet.
Please check out the Add-On's I've recommended! They are meshes made by community members that will use these textures too. Or, they are bits of CC that go along with these nicely!
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A Luxurious Nights Sleep - beddoubleluxury
notes: sleek and modern, I've used the original wood texture for the main part, and made a new wood texture (sourced from the wood texture provided) for the 'detail' bit. Shine removed.
Recommended Add-On: #1, #2, #3
Baby's Touch Bed - bedsingleclassic
notes: a darling single bed with no plain white canopy recolors, so I made one. Original textures on the wood, shine removed.
Recommended Add-On: #1, #2
Caress of Teak Bed - bedsinglemoderate
notes: not mapped in my most favorite way ever, but it works alright. I don't think that this is the original texture? Shine removed.
Recommended Add-On: #1, #2
Cheap Eazzzzze Morrissey Doublebed - beddoublebasic
notes: NEW wood texture, NO shine, kept the little metal corners on. Both help this very nice mesh look crisp and clean.
Colonial Ironwood Bed - bedcolonial
notes: oh I really have a love/hate relationship with this one. It has a good Comfort score and looks semi-ordinary. But its original textures and mapping are :/ The fabric headboard comes in (I hope) complimentary, muted colors.
Recommended Add-On: #1* *you only NEED the file named 'FAB_MaxisBedByStAjoqueReproductions_SLAVEDEFAULT'. @curiousb slaved the single version of this bed (Bed by St. AjoqueReproducitons) the the double version
Courtly Sleeper Day Dreamer - beddoubledesigner
notes: I quite like this one! Texture taken from one of its original recolors, shine removed.
Recommended Add-On: #1, #2
Craftmeisters Pine Bed - bedsinglevalue
notes: just like its double-wide sister, this one has been much improved with a NEW texture, and no shine.
Dreaming of Olde Bed - beddoublebohemian
notes: you get 2 options! This lovely rattan situation...
...and a big wicker sun!
Recommended add-on: #1*
*the textures do look a little squishy and weird on the single bed and daybed, but that has more do do with the way it's mapped
Fit For Royalty - bedsingleelite
notes: this one is a little unusual because I would not have considered doing it at ALL until I saw @hugelunatic's default for it. I'm going to have to insist that you get it! It's not like you were going to use the goofy original version anyway.
Recommended add-on: #1
Hellacious Headboard Double Bed - beddoublehotel
notes: how does it feel to be a gorgeous bed mesh? I'll bet it feels...Hellacious.
This uses the one 'generic' hotel texture it came with, and then each has a fabric headboard. No shine.
Legendary Bedscalibur/Slumber Saddle Of Sleepnir - beddoublemission - bedsinglemission
notes: the single bed and double bed share a texture, so just the one gif. Uses the texture it came with because I really like it! No shine.
Majestically Medieval Double Bed - beddoublemedieval
notes: mainly the same texture, but it's been given a little facelift with some Witcher3 textures at the top and around the base. No white recolor with this one, I felt that the mesh wasn't suited to it.
Recommended Add-On: #1
Maturely Medieval Single - bedsinglemedieval
notes: same wood texture, shine removed (this one was real shiny)
Murphy Hide Away Bed - beddoublemurphy
notes: ah, it's my favorite TS2 bed that has a very small chance of killing your sim! Same texture, shine removed.
Recommended Add-On: #1
Rough And Comfy Bed - bedsinglecomfy
notes: This bed has a really nice shape but only one recolor. This is mostly the same texture but I changed it a little on the drawers. No shine.
Recommended Add-On: #1
Simple Single - bedsinglesurfer
notes: this did not come with wood recolors originally, but it does now! I snatched them from the Sleepwave 42 bed, as the exaggerated wood grain kind of worked for this shape? I don't know of a CEP for the metal part of the bed though.
Recommended Add-On: #1
Sleepwave 42 - beddoubleatomicage
notes: I looove the shape of this, and I even like the wood grain, so it's the same. The legs don't have a recolorable subset though, unfortunately.
Soma Sleep Well - beddoubleartnouveau
notes: I don't think this bed gets the love it deserves! I wanted preserve some of the 'specialness' of its headboard, so it has this burled wood texture in it. No shine however (this one was quite shiny).
Recommended Add-On: #1
The Double Bed Of Wonderment - beddoublecanopyhotel
notes: can't go wrong with a nice big canopy bed. It has headboards in colors similar those used on 'beddoublehotel'. Original textures because they are good and I like them.
The Ergonomizer - bedsinglehotel
notes: While it has the same shape as beddoublehotel, they don't share a texture. Same colors for the headboard.
The Four Post Bed - beddoublecountry
notes: great country style! same textures, no shine
The Single Bed Ala Mode - bedsinglecountry
notes: and the single version shares textures, nice
Recommended Add-On: #1, #2
Touch Of Teak - beddoubledesigner
notes: I quite like this mesh! Original textures, no shine.
Recommended Add-On: #1, #2, #3
Zenu Meditation Sleeper - beddoubleoriental
notes: about half the original texture, but all of the decorative bits are NEW! I think they are from Witcher 3.
view of the back!
notable exceptions: Flowin Protozoan Single Bed (did not want to, too niche) as well as its double version and More Romantic than You (naw - I never use it)
Download - Sims 2 Beds - Wood Recolors
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Recommended downloads:
#merry goatmas#merry xmas from goat#sims 2 download#ts2 download#ts2 cc#sims 2 cc#sims 2 object recolor
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IX ║ Warmblood
Jack Daniels x f!reader
{ Part 8: Silver Pony | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E
Summary: The hardest goodbye you'll ever say.
Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, flirting, sexual innuendoes, semi-pubic sex, oral sex (F receiving), risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N
Word count: 7.6k
Notes: Here we are, at the end of the longest packtrip ever, and we did it with only one (1) little meltdown last night 😜 More notes at the end, but I just want to say - this has been a once-in-a-lifetime story for me. If a fic can be a soulmate, Palomino is mine.
Thank you for coming on this journey with me, I love every single one of you ❤️ Last thing, I never do this, but I must insist that you play this song when you get there. You'll know when 🥹
Warmblood: An athletic, agile horse that is noted for its trainability and usually calm temperament, is commonly used in equestrian competition, and typically possesses Thoroughbred, Arabian, and draft horse bloodlines.
Your awakening is gentle, soft and blurry around the edges, as if you’re looking through the lens of a Polaroid camera, tinted in sepia. The morning hour creeps across the ceiling of Jack’s bedroom in equal parts light and shadow, the curtains having been left undrawn last night. A crack in the window lets in the faintest breeze, but mutes all the sounds you’ve grown used to seeking out first thing in the morning, when your eyelids are too heavy to lift.
The hum of flying things, feathered or otherwise, charting their flight paths in your head by the buzz of their wings. The brush of the wind like a hand combing through grass and meadow. Even the sun speaks in the morning, raw energy strumming between constantly shifting air particles.
This stillness comes off as almost - unnatural. Even when straddling the divide between sleep and wake, you feel yourself making tiny adjustments to the physicality of being indoors again. Regret stains the corners of your consciousness, knowing it won’t take you long to recalibrate. Your body will return to what it knows, shedding your once-upon-a-time existence in the mountains like a coat discarded at the turn of the season.
When the mattress dips behind you, sensation floods your veins like a shock to the system, flushing out the pins and needles in your limbs that you haven’t even noticed. Jack is warm and solid behind you, where he belongs. One leg nudged between yours, his sun-kissed arm across your waist, the only thing keeping you from tumbling off the edge. His breath whistles sweetly over the shell of your ear, and you smile. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know that his mouth is parted in slumber.
The next time you come to, it’s the rude buzz of metal on wood that jolts you out of sleep. You squeak when Jack follows, almost inadvertently shoving you off the bed as he startles awake. But thankfully, his instincts are fully intact, and he catches you squarely in the stomach, biceps flexing as he pulls you back into his chest with an easy strength.
‘Sorry, darlin’,’ he rasps groggily, burying his face in your neck in an apology. You uncoil in a languid stretch, opening up your throat to the rough scratch of his moustache, wanting to feel the burn.
‘Phone, cowboy,’ you gripe when the vibration doesn’t stop.
With a heave-ho, Jack reaches over you to grab it, before falling back onto the mattress so heavily that the bedframe shakes. Rubbing his thumb and index finger over his eyes, he grouses into the receiver, ‘What?’
Teak’s voice on the other line is clear as day even though he’s not on speaker. ‘Where are you, man?’
You burrow into Jack’s side, and the wide span of his palm on your hip holds you to him possessively. ‘Where do you think I am?’
‘Listen. Poppy made sausage gravy and buttermilk pancakes. Y’all know what that means.’
You venture a peek at Jack, whose lips are pursed thoughtfully. You prompt, ‘What does it mean?’
He smiles down at you. ‘She really likes you, darlin’.’
Teak interrupts with a scoff. ‘Like her? She’s basically adopting you, sunshine!’
Your lips wobble - if you soften any further, you might melt into the mattress. ‘Oh, Poppy.’
‘Look, I’ve been stallin’ them, but they’re fixin’ to break down her door. You lovebirds best get here quick!’
Tossing away his phone without a goodbye, Jack drops a kiss to your forehead. ‘Listen, we don’t have to go anywhere, you stay here and I’ll make you - cereal in bed?’ He pauses with a wince. ‘Actually, I’m outta milk. And cereal.’
You chuckle, reaching up to run your fingers through his endearingly askew bed hair. ‘It’s ok, cowboy, we should go. I need to pack anyway.’
Your tummy takes the inopportune moment to rumble audibly, and he pins you with a knowing look. ‘And you want that sausage gravy, don’t you?’
‘Shut up,’ you laugh, pushing him off the bed.
When you step out of Jack’s bedroom in last night’s clothes after a quick refresh in his neat ensuite, he’s already outside, warming up the Silver Pony.
The house is even cosier in the morning. Facing east, daylight fills every corner of every room, bringing out the patterns in the wooden panels. Your gaze lingers where you can’t. You want to study the cracked spines of the paperbacks on his bookshelf one by one, you want to press your nose into the shirts hanging in his closet, you want to peer around the door to a second room that is temptingly ajar -
‘Darlin’?’
You look up, and Christ on a cracker - it’s downright unfair that even after a week of spending every waking minute together, this damn cowboy can still make your heart skip a beat just by standing.
Jack is on the doorstep, in what you assume is his ‘off-duty’ uniform. Instead of a plaid shirt, he’s wearing a simple white tshirt with a round neck that is decidedly not sweat- nor dirt-friendly, tucked loosely into the waistband of dark jeans that look a bit more polished, and if you would believe it, even tighter than the pair he wears in the saddle. While it’s business as usual with the Stetson and work boots, something unfamiliar hangs from the neckline of his top.
Plucking the gold-rimmed aviators from his tshirt, you slide them onto your face, winking at him through the tinted lens. ‘Nice shades. Gotta say, I didn’t peg you for such a snazzy dresser off the trail.’
He grins, all tidy teeth with a deliberately libertine edge, clearly enjoying the attention. Scooping you into his broad frame, he drawls, ‘Gotta look good for the ladies in town, y’know. They’re famished ‘cause you been hoardin’ me all week, darlin’.’
With an exaggerated huff, you elbow past him. ‘I don’t know how you manage to zip your ego into those tightass pants, cowboy!’
‘With lots of practice,’ he retorts, smacking you firmly on the backside.
‘Do you need your sunnies?’ you ask as you climb onto the Silver Pony behind him, pushing the aviators a bit higher on your nose where they’ve slid down.
He shrugs. ‘Keep ‘em. Gives you a reason to come back.’
You smile into his broad shoulders, palms sliding to interlock over his soft belly. The bike revs, startling a flock of birds into flight from a nearby tree, and you realise those six little words are the first to breach the subject of what comes after - which will come to be in a matter of hours, with your flight in the early afternoon, a prospect suddenly so frighteningly real.
But in the same breath, it becomes blindingly clear that you don’t even need to hear the words.
Because you know there is a space for you in his bed, tucked into his body, curled around you. A spot for you under his arm resting on the back of his couch in the living room, in front of a woodfire when it snows outside. A seat for you at the back of his motorcycle, where you are now, breezing effortlessly downhill towards the ranch, the white fences and red roofs winking at you between the gaps in the trees that line the winding country roads.
When you dream in the months to come, you will always smell pine, white cotton, and well-worn leather as the Silver Pony carries you home.
It’s a shorter drive than you remember. Jack’s watch reads just past half eight when you pull into the parking lot. He kills the engine as you dismount, passing him your star-spangled helmet to be returned to its place in the little cabinet for next time. You’ve turned on your heel towards the ranch when a hand on your wrist grounds you to the spot.
Hands that have made you feel safe, protected, wanted in turn over the past week.
There’s no fanfare, no declarations, as you watch Jack lace his fingers with yours, filling the gaps and the tips curling into the valleys between your knuckles. Palm to weathered palm, calloused from ropework and heavy lifting, you look up to meet his eyes.
He peers at you, almost shyly, an incomprehensible notion after all that he’s done to you, and what you’ve done to him, across the expanse of the Wyoming wilderness. But there’s a chastity to this simple action, and you find your throat tight when he asks, ‘Is this ok, darlin’?’
Your heart swells, as if it’s going to grow claws and tear itself right out of your chest cavity. Bringing up your tangled hands, you brush a kiss across his knuckles, and his whole countenance lifts with the upward curl of his mouth.
‘Yes, cowboy.’
The Statesman is putting on a show for your last morning. The sun is out, climbing high into the cloudless sky, with Jack’s aviators bearing the brunt of the harsh glare. It’s déjà vu when you retrace the path you took on the day of your arrival, the same crunch of gravel under your boots, the familiar scent of hay and horse on the breeze.
The bird’s eye view of the ranch has your breath stuttering just like that first time you cast your gaze on the green pastures and the red roofs. And beyond, like a perfectly painted stage set piece, the Bighorns loom tall and majestic. You’ve seen the mountains in all their incarnations over the past week - they change colour as the sun and clouds move during the day, and sometimes, you swear they morph in shape too.
It strikes you suddenly that just yesterday, you were but three specks moving across the vast landscape, the realisation almost bowling you over.
Before all this, it wouldn’t have taken much to convince yourself that you don’t deserve it. That it was the horses doing all the legwork and Jack the navigating, that you haven’t really done anything but sit in the saddle. But something’s shifted, it’s been a baptism by long summer days and the great outdoors - and damn it all, you’re proud of yourself.
You came on this trip alone, with nothing but a broken relationship behind you, a suitcase full of anxieties and riding gear covered in years of dust and neglect. You said yes, perhaps recklessly, when offered the chance to spend a week alone in the mountains with a complete stranger and the glamour of sleeping bags and portable showers, when it would’ve been easier (and certainly more comfortable) to turn it down.
Somehow, you’ve come out the other end, long gallops over untouched grassland and starry campfire nights piecing you back together, only to fall so damn hard for this cowboy that you’re sure to break again when you get on that plane this afternoon -
An unexpected tug on your arm has you tumbling clumsily. ‘Jack!’
He arches an eyebrow and remarks, ‘Ain’t heard those cogs in your pretty head grind that loud since the first coupl'a days, darlin’.’
You shrug and, not wanting to sour the mood, deflect his attention with a lighthearted fib. ‘Just realised that I didn’t even come close to falling off once the entire week.’
When he chuckles, the thought comes to you that you’ll miss the way he laughs with his whole body.
‘You did real good for your first rodeo,’ he pauses, then flashes you a lascivious smirk. ‘You ain’t bad at ridin’ bareback either.’
A rebuke of his crude quip is on the tip of your tongue, but then your nose picks up on the scent of bitter coffee and maple syrup, which is quickly followed by the sighting of the al fresco table set up not far from the grill last night, the singe of smoke and whiskey still hanging in the air.
From a distance, you can see Poppy and Champ engaged in what looks like a heated debate, both gesticulating wildly with fork and knife. On the opposite side of the table, an unbothered Teak mows down his breakfast as if he’s heard it all before, and Ginger is feeding Jameson pancakes under the table.
It’s the younger cowboy who spots you two first. He freezes, brows disappearing under the brim of his Stetson when his eyes flit downwards to your interlocked hands. A huge grin would’ve split his handsome face in two if his mouth wasn’t stuffed full of half-chewed pancakes. The beans are well and truly spilled when Jameson comes bounding over, barking his demands for morning cuddles.
Champ looks up, his argument with Poppy promptly dropped. ‘Aha! There she is! Howdy young lady, we were just wonderin’ where you -’
He halts mid-sentence, his head whipping towards his right where the guest lodges are situated beyond the stables, decidedly not the direction you’re coming from. The penny drops as he takes in your hand in Jack’s, eyes wide, and all the occupants of the table seem to inhale a collective breath that stops you in your tracks.
But not Jack. He ignores the gawking with a practised air of been there, done that, and ushers you into the empty seat next to Teak without skipping a beat. Planting a sweet peck on your cheek, he settles to your left and unfolds his starched napkin with a flourished flick of his wrist, which he tucks into the neckline of his tshirt.
‘Mornin’,’ he addresses the silent table in an exaggerated southern drawl. ‘If y’all would be so kind to shut your mouths, you’re embarrassin’ me in front of my lady. Now, pass the coffee if you please, Teak.’
Fittingly, it’s Champ who breaks the silence with a rip-roaring howl of laughter, palms hitting the table so hard you’re convinced everything on it jumps a foot from the surface, the ruckus sending Jameson scampering for cover. ‘Well, well, well! Butter my butt and call it a biscuit!’
Poppy leaps to her feet, halfway to the kitchen before shouting over her shoulder. ‘We’re celebrating! This calls for strawberry milkshake!’
Teak elbows you in the side. ‘Just so y’know, Poppy ain’t the type to make strawberry milkshake for just anybody.’ He salutes you with a crooked grin. ‘Welcome to the family, sweetheart.’
It’s a brand of chaos that is distinctly Statesman. Ginger and Champ are fighting each other to load up your plate with far too much food over your protests, Teak pours coffee into your glass and orange juice in the mug, and Jameson is probing your knees under the table for scraps. You meet Jack’s eyes, and he grins back at you with a wink over the rim of his cup.
There’s no reason why you should be this hungry after the barbeque last night, but you don’t stop until you’ve polished off the sausage gravy and biscuits, the welcome richness settling in the pit of your stomach and making you second guess if you have any room left for pancakes.
‘Young lady, I hope this means you forgive me for the strings I pulled to set you two up,’ pipes up Champ around a mouthful of bacon, washed down by black coffee.
‘You’ll hear no complaints from me, sir,’ you reassure him.
He raises a fist in a pantomime of indignation. ‘You wouldn’t believe the grief Jack and Ginger put me through for playin’ matchmaker! I demand a retraction from y’all!’
Ginger raises both hands in surrender. ‘Fine, I take it all back, even if it means you’ll be downright insufferable about it! But I’ll happily live with that!'
Jack slings an arm around your shoulder. ‘It kills me to say it, but you have damn good taste, boss.’
‘Well, y’all know what they say - ain’t a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fit!’ needles Teak.
‘Hey!’ You reach across to slap him on the arm as Jack chuckles behind you. ‘I don’t see you with a lid, you loud-mouthed kettle!’
Teak sasses back, ‘Fine, fine, how ‘bout - there ain’t a man that can’t be thrown, or a cowboy that can’t be rode -’
Right on cue, Poppy’s distant shout interrupts, ‘Tequila!’
Jumping onto his feet, the cowboy winks at you. ‘Hold that thought, sunshine - right away, ma’am!’
Unperturbed by the double entendres, Champ brings the conversation right back around. ‘Well, I do declare, this nosy old man gets it right -’
‘For once!’ heckles Ginger.
‘Joke’s on you, m’dear. I only need to be right once!’
There are oohs and ahhs when Poppy and Teak reappear with the decadent milkshakes in retro fountain glasses, topped with whipped cream and strawberry slices, distributed around the table.
‘So, what are we drinking to?’ asks Poppy.
You turn to Jack, holding up your milkshake. ‘To crooked pots.’
There are cheers and laughs up and down the table, and Jack clinks your glass with a grin as he adds, ‘And cowboys that can be rode.’
You think about the cassette tapes that you used to watch when you were young. How at the end of a film, the black tape is all rolled up in the right window, and you were always the one to press the rewind button on the VCR. You still remember the whirr of the film as it went backwards, round and round, right back to the beginning.
When the coffee has gone cold and the morning chores come calling, the breakfast table empties, and you hear the click of that button when Jack offers you his upturned palm to walk you back to your cabin.
The tape rewinds as you pack. The outfit you agonised over that first day or your introductory ride with the cowboy has been laundered, and you slowly fold up each piece - the jodhpurs, the plaid shirt, the socks - and put them into your open suitcase.
The tape rewinds as you close the door to the cabin, and Jack carries your luggage across the yard in one hand, yours nestled snugly in his other.
The tape rewinds as you walk by the stables - you nip in quickly to say goodbye to Whiskey and Bourbon - past the main lodge, and the grazing field next to the parking lot.
Putting your suitcase down, Jack whistles with his fingers, the sound carrying in the wind. You see a familiar golden head pop up from across the field, and your nose prickles with the threat of tears as you watch Scotch canter towards you, ears forward and tail swishing with an attitude you can spot from a mile away. Climbing onto the first rung of the fence, you throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his snowy mane as he snoops around your pockets, always looking for treats.
You pull an apple out of your travel bag, neatly cut in two. Scotch nickers, his velvety nuzzle tickles as he carefully plucks each half from your palm.
Combing through his forelock, you coo at him, ‘I’m gonna miss you, boy. You behave with your rider next week, you hear me?’
The key is already in the ignition of your rental pickup when Champ puts your suitcase and tote bag on the backseat floor, while Teak and Jack load the Silver Pony onto the back.
Your arm almost falls out of its socket when Poppy passes you the promised takeaway lunch, packed into a chiller bag.
‘You’re flying Delta right?’ she asks. ‘I’ll call them up with instructions on how to heat up the food. It’ll be good as fresh off the barbeque.’
‘Thank you so, so much Poppy,’ you say as she pulls you into a warm hug. ‘I hope you know you’ve ruined food for me. Nothing will ever come close to being good enough.’
She winks. ‘You’re welcome, honey. Come back soon, ok? There’s more where it came from!’
Ginger is next, and emotion clutches at your chest as you squeeze her slender frame in a tight embrace. ‘Just so you know, I was furious that you wouldn’t give me a refund when I called you up all those months ago.’
‘What can I say? I’m a tough cookie,’ she giggles, and hangs onto you for just a moment longer. ‘I’m so glad you didn’t cancel on us.’
Champ surprises you, forgoing your outstretched hand and giving you a hug for the first time. His tweed suit is softer than expected under your cheek, and smells like pipeweed and leather.
‘It’s been an absolute pleasure, young lady. I’m sure we’ll see you again very soon,’ he winks. ‘And I’ll be in touch about the social media.’
Three steps away, Teak is waiting with his arms crossed, and he pushes off the truck to bundle you into his embrace, the hug as big and as bear-like as him, which makes you chuckle.
‘Anything parting Southern wisdom for me?’ you quip.
‘I’m all out, sweetheart,’ he says, giving you a pat on the back. ‘’Cept, y’know, that cowboy’s been grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet ‘tater all week, and it’s damn annoyin’.’
Jack rolls his eyes, one palm on your back as he herds you towards the truck. ‘C’mon, darlin’, we should make a move.’
Saving himself for last, Jameson trots up to you with a bark, tail wagging. The grass is warm and tickles your bare knees when you crouch down to give him one last hug, giggling at the wet kiss he leaves on your cheek.
The leather of the passenger seat is soft as you sink down into it, while Jack closes the door behind you and crosses to the driver’s side. Inhaling deeply as the engine starts with a rusty rumble, you look up when he gives your hand a grounding squeeze.
‘Ready, darlin’?’
You nod, though not entirely convincingly. ‘Let’s go, cowboy.’
The Statesman gets smaller and smaller behind you as the truck eases down the driveway, and the four figures waving in the rearview mirror blur into tiny shadows through the mist of your tears. The metal frame of the vehicle squeaks with the movement as it rolls over bumps on the long dirt track, at the end of which, Jack takes a right with a one-handed turn of the steering wheel onto the main road, and the ranch slips out of sight.
The midday sun streams through the windshield, hot on your skin. You’re glad you changed out of the jeans from last night into a lightweight dress, a slightly frivolous last-minute addition to your luggage that’s paid off.
Staring out of the open window at the rolling landscape, it takes you right back to exactly eight days ago when you were driving down the dusty road - except this time, the Bighorn Mountains are behind you, and next to you is a cowboy instead of an empty seat.
Unabashedly, you watch him drive. His right hand is woven in yours, disengaging only to shift gears every now and then. Under the brim of his hat, his eyes are on the road, occasionally darting sideways to find himself on the receiving end of your attention.
It’s certainly an adjustment to see him in the driver’s seat after a week in the saddle - Whiskey’s, then the Silver Pony’s. But it doesn’t matter, there’s no mistaking the competence behind his every movement, be it to ease his horse to a slower gait with the lightest closing of his fingers on the leather reins, or to redirect the truck with an effortless palm on the steering wheel -
‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer,’ he drawls, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
‘Not long enough,’ you grumble, shuffling in close.
He half-turns, moustache brushing your temple as he murmurs, ‘Have I told you that you look beautiful in that dress?’
You press a secret smile into his shoulder. ‘You sure you don’t prefer me in jodhpurs?’
Untangling his fingers to slide blunt nails under the hem of your dress and up the inside of your leg, he replies diplomatically, ‘I can see pros and cons to both.’
Your breath hitches with a warning, but the instinctive parting of your thighs gives you away. ‘Cowboy -’
You startle at what sounds like a sudden crack of thunder, but it turns out to be an enormous interstate truck charging down the opposite lane. In a panic, your knees snap shut, trapping Jack’s wandering hand between the soft cushion of your legs. To your chagrin, he makes a point of waving to the driver as he passes by.
‘Jack, he definitely saw your hand up my dress!’ you chide.
He flashes you a knowing smirk, and you shudder when he digs into the meat of your thigh with a firm squeeze. ‘Somethin’ tells me you enjoyed that, darlin’.’
Your mouth opens, ready to object, but a familiar heat warms the back of your neck the same time your throat goes dry. It’s the same thrill from last night, in the cellar, not knowing if you’ll get caught bent over a whiskey cask, jeans pulled down just enough so that this cowboy could bury his cock deep inside you.
Despite yourself, you shift in your seat, and Jack’s knuckles scrape the fast dampening seat of your panties. Choking on a strangled noise, he turns his wrist so that he can rub the outline of your folds through the thin fabric, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. ‘Fuck. I feel that, darlin’.’
Another car comes down the opposite lane, a smaller sedan this time, and you’re bold enough to spread your thighs, letting him slip under your panties.
The car swerves sharply as hisses at the wetness he finds, fingertip gliding slickly between the lips of your pussy, smearing the mess all over as your hips rock into the contact.
Through gritted teeth, Jack groans, ‘Darlin’, you’re soaked for me.’
‘Pull over. Now.’
He does - parking haphazardly behind a tree, barely a couple of yards off the main road before killing the ignition.
You mount him immediately, throwing your right leg over his lap as if pulling yourself into the saddle, the pain an afterthought when your knee jams into the control panel on the door in your haste. Jack grunts as your hips slot flush against his, his usual composure nowhere to be found as he’s caught between undoing his seatbelt, pushing your dress up and scrabbling down the sides of the driver’s seat for the adjustment lever.
The sudden recline of the seatback pulls a squeak from you while knocking Jack’s hat clean off, and you follow to claim his lips in a messy kiss as he palms the swell of your ass.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he bites out, rocking up against your pussy, head thrown back. ‘You’re so fuckin’ sexy.’
He doesn't question you when you climb over him, taking the chance to scrape open-mouthed kisses down your neck instead - and when you sit back down on your haunches, his pupils blow wide at the sight of you wearing his hat and a flirtatious grin.
‘How about now, cowboy?’ you tease.
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing hard as his eyes darken. ‘You’ll look even better sittin’ on my face, darlin’.’
Your jaw goes slack. ‘Jack -’
‘I want to taste you one more time. Need to. Please.’
Something breaks loose inside you, unhinges, and you crawl over the length of his lean body to steal a bruising kiss that has him hot in pursuit when you pull back. The hem of the dress brushes his face when your knees make landing on the backseat, on either side of the headrest he’s lying on. Reaching for the grab handle above, you pull yourself upright, bracing the roof of the truck while you hover over his beautiful nose.
Calloused fingers bunch up your dress to the waist, and Jack hums at the display of your drenched panties, before hooking one thumb around the seams and pulling it unceremoniously to one side.
‘Look at that pussy,’ he groans brokenly. ‘Always fuckin’ soakin’ for me. Just beggin’ for me to taste it, hmm?’
‘Jaaaack,’ you whine on an exhale. Looking down at how he’s so wantonly eyeing you, your back arches with a confidence you didn’t know you have. Thighs splaying wider, you know he hears the slick parting of your folds when he stutters a pained moan.
‘C’mere and let me eat that pretty pussy, darlin’.’
From the moment his lips close around your clit in a sloppy suckle, you know this is a different beast from that first time he took you apart with his mouth, deep in the mountains, under the secret cloak of night. The afternoon sun casts shadows where his brow is creased in studious concentration, his keen gaze flitting from where he delicately holds you open with his fingertips, to your cleavage, to your face, and all the way down again. Every twitch of muscle, every whimper caught in the web of his determination to relish all of you.
In no mood to tease, each measured lick and curl of his tongue hits its mark, your physical reflexes compounded by this show of devastating competence. He draws desperate sounds that you don't even register as your own, your needy cunt leaking all over his face and chin.
‘Cowboy,’ you mewl, reaching down to coil your fingers into his hair, the strands beaded with sweat and sticking to his forehead as he doubles down. Your squirming only makes him tighten his grip on your hips to hold you still, the bite of his fingers bordering on painful. ‘I’m so close -’
The insides of your thighs are cool and slippery, a sensation you’re well used to now, his spit and your slick completely soaking through your panties. His three-day stubble rubs your sensitive skin raw, and the top of his Stetson bumps against the ceiling as you angle your hips to catch his puckered lips where you need him most, chasing friction.
‘Jack,’ you whimper when you feel the first spark of orgasm deep inside you, the spiral instant and relentless. ‘Jack, Jack, oh fuck, - I’m there, that’s it - I’m cumming, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’t -’
Somewhere on the fringes of your scattered mind, you’re aware that the windows are down, not that you can do anything about it now - you thrash and wail and sob his name, all the while he laps at the mouth of your throbbing cunt. The sounds are obscene as he slurps and wrings every last drop of you until you’re pushing him away, nerves firing blindly from overstimulation, choking hoarsely when you catch your breath.
Watching you in a drunken daze, Jack finally draws back with a lewd pop, wiping his thoroughly soaked chin on your knee, which narrowly misses his nose as a violent, full-body shudder ripples through you.
‘Relax, darlin’,’ he cooes. All your joints have capitulated, so Jack has to bodily rearrange you, dislodging your shaky knees from his shoulders down to his sides to pull you in for a kiss. You moan at the sticky release his moustache smears all over your face, the taste of yourself thick and heavy on his tongue.
His brown eyes snap open when you sneak between your bodies to palm his erection through his jeans, voice strained. ‘Darlin’, we ain’t got the time -’
Deftly undoing his belt, that damned flask-shaped buckle that looks as ridiculous as the first time you laid eyes on it, you assure him, ‘Don’t worry, it won’t take long.’
He arches an eyebrow, taking in your face shadowed by his cowboy hat, but stays put otherwise, almost docile as he lets you take the reins. ‘Is that so? And you’re so confident, how?’
Shoving down his boxers and jeans, his cock springs free, hard and ready. With a brazen grin, you sit up and line yourself up to the swollen tip, declaring, ‘Because I want you to cum inside me, cowboy.’
You’re not sure if it’s you sinking down on him, or him snapping his hips upwards. All you know is that by the time your head catches up, he’s driven to the hilt inside you.
‘What are you - fuck you’re so tight -’ he wheezes against your lips, giving you no pause as he ruts into you recklessly, the crude slap of skin on skin filling every space the truck. ‘Whatcha mean by cummin’ inside you?’
‘I don’t know how I can be more clear, cowboy,’ you sass, when a particularly deep thrust almost jolts you off his lap.
‘But you’re not on birth control, darlin’ -’ he tries to reason.
‘I’ll take the morning after pill as soon as I land,’ you promise, holding his unfocused gaze. ‘Do you trust me?’
The wind is knocked out of you when his strong arms pull you flush to his front, his answer immediate and irrevocable. ‘With everythin’.’
There’s too much going on. The coarse scratch of denim on the inside of your thighs, his nails scraping down your ass, the desperate whimpers he leaves in the secret place behind your ear. The air grows humid and thick as Jack feels himself slipping, your pussy gripping him so tightly that his eyes threaten to roll back into his skull.
He gasps in a breathless warning. ‘Darlin' -’
‘It’s ok, cowboy,’ you croon, fingers carding through his dark hair. ‘I want to feel you deep inside me. All of you.’
His bones rattle with a vicious shudder at your words. Snarling, he bucks into you at a pace so unrelenting that you cry out with each snap of his hips.
‘Gonna stuff you so fuckin’ full,’ he vows in between slippery kisses. ‘Been wantin’ to since the first time. Gonna fill your pussy with my cum, darlin’, you’ll be drippin’ with me for days -’
‘Yes yes yes do it cowboy, please -’ you beg, voice cracking.
‘Look at me,’ he orders, nostrils flaring as you knock foreheads. ‘Look at me while I fuck you full, darlin’.’
Choking on a whine, you feel him swell inside you until he teeters right on the brink. The raw need in his eyes robs you of your breath, and you grow faint on empty lungs as you sway with him -
And then his neck strains, his hips jerk, and you feel his abdomen cave in on itself when he lets go with your name on his lips, and his on yours. A primal roar fills your ears as he pumps you full of him, spilling into you again and again until all you feel is his cum hot and deep inside you, flooding your cunt, his whole body spasming as he pants raggedly for air.
A carnal musk hangs ripe and sweltering in the confines of the truck. Floating on a lazy stupor, you draw soothing circles on his quickly rising and falling chest through the aftershocks, his tshirt clammy with sweat, heart pounding under your palm.
Jack reaches up to push off his hat so that he can see all of you before pulling you in for a lingering kiss. When he softens, his spend dribbling slow and hot out of you, two thick fingers nudge between your thighs, and your back arches when he tenderly pushes it back inside.
His plea is a hoarse mumble into the side of your neck. ‘Keep me in you, darlin’. Take me with you.’
You nod, and smile, ‘Always.’
The airport is tiny, and Jack seems to know everyone you cross paths with. From the security guard at the carpark (previously a groom at the Statesman) to the staffer at the car rental counter (Champ’s nephew), he’s busy tipping his hat and dispatching howdy’s left, right and centre.
‘Small town, huh?’ you quip.
He hums, ‘Welcome to cowboy country.’
And he definitely knows the brunette checking you in at the airline counter, all the while glowering at you over the top of your driving licence.
‘Ain’t seen you 'round town much lately, Jack,’ she says, affixing you with a none too subtle glare.
‘Y’know how it is in the summer, always busy,’ he replies a touch too politely. As soon as he drops your suitcase onto the baggage belt, he wraps one even less subtle arm around your waist and pulls you pointedly into his side.
You bite your lip as the woman’s eyes narrow and she aggressively punches your details into the computer system, surprised that the keyboard doesn’t break. Once your suitcase is on its merry way, Jack wastes no time spiriting you away from the counter without so much of a fare-thee-well.
You burst into laughter, elbowing him in the ribs. ‘Brrrrrr. That was cold!’
Jack pinches the bridge of his nose, admitting, ‘To be fair to her, she didn’t catch me at my finest moment.’
‘Do I want to know?’
‘Let’s just say there ain’t enough of this ol’ cowboy to go ‘round for the ladies in town,’ he winks.
‘Well, I hope they know there’s about to be even less of you going forward,’ you sniff primly.
Preening at the possessiveness in your tone, Jack ribs, ‘A tragedy, some might say.’
You huff, but can’t help a smile. ‘Well, aren’t I lucky to have roped you in, cowboy.’
‘And she can’t even lasso!’ he teases, leaning down to steal a kiss.
Feeling eyes on you, you duck your head, protesting, ‘Jack, people are looking.’
‘Let ‘em,’ he counters, prompting a gasp from you when he brazenly squeezes your ass through your dress. ‘I’m stakin’ my claim, darlin’.’
‘You already did in the truck, cowboy,’ you remind him, instinctively rubbing your thighs together, feeling the weight of his cum wet in your panties.
He hums, as if he knows, the sound deep and satisfied. His lips linger at the crown of your head, and he holds you close with his whole body, wrapping himself around your soul.
All too soon, the old-fashioned Solari board you’re sitting under whirrs into action. The retro split-flap display spins and flips with a mechanical staccato to spell out ‘final boarding call’ next to your flight number, one of five scheduled for that afternoon.
Stubbornly, you turn your face into Jack’s shoulder, inhaling him. He smells like horses and dappled sun filtered through leaves in a tree - you wish you could distil it into a bottle and take it with you.
You’re in denial, that much you know. You’ve warded off the thought of leaving too well, compartmentalised it and pushed it down somewhere it wouldn't be able to resurface.
But that’s the irony - even if you can keep it buried, it doesn’t change the fact that your suitcase is in the belly of the plane parked on the runway, that you’re about to leave Wyoming behind and put thousands of miles between you and this cowboy, who has gone uncharacteristically quiet as the minutes tick down.
Eventually, he murmurs slowly into your hair, as if the words are physically weighing him down. ‘C’mon, darlin.’
Your feet are heavy, dragging, and Jack has to practically strong-arm you out of the airport terminal and onto the tarmac. He holds you as you loiter at the back of the queue, until the crowd disperses, and the stewardess at the top of the boarding stairs gives you both a knowing but firm look.
That’s when the tears spill over the seams of your lashes where they’ve been teetering, held back by sheer willpower and clenched teeth. Ugly sobs bubble out of your throat, and Jack pulls you into him, his own voice thick as he rocks you soothingly. ‘It’s ok, darlin’. I’ll see you before you know it.’
‘But when?’ you wail, almost petulantly.
He answers with no hesitation, and it’s obvious to you that he isn’t just thinking on his feet, that he’s been making plans, but kept it close to his chest.
‘We have back-to-back pack trips the next three weeks, so I can’t get away. But next month, after the Kingsman’s rescheduled bookin’, I’ll take a whole week off.’
‘That’s an entire month away,’ you grumble into the soaked front of his tshirt.
‘I know, but you’ll need time to plan all the things we’re gonna see,’ he jokes, recalling your fireside conversation. ‘You’re gonna take this country mouse to all the museums and art galleries and all kinds of big city adventures, ain’t that right?’
You give him a watery smile. ‘I stand by the sex and Thai takeaway in bed plan.’
‘Even better,’ he answers, and you hold onto the way the crease of his smile lines bring out the soul in his eyes. ‘I’ll call you, darlin’, ok?’
Somehow, you muster the good humour to tease, ‘The cool kids FaceTime nowadays, and I hear your phone doesn’t have a working camera.’
He laughs, and you can’t quite tell if it’s tears clinging to his lashes, or if it’s a trick of the light. He thumbs away the wet streaks from your cheeks, nose brushing yours in a solemn promise. ‘I’ll get a new one.’
‘Just for me?’
And then he’s kissing you, plush lips slanting across yours, dragging slow like honey. When he pulls back, he breathes, ‘Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’
Jack has to physically unclench his fingers to let you step back. When your hand slides out of his, it takes him everything not to pull you back, or run after you up the stairs. He grasps the railing so hard his knuckles go bone-white as you turn back to him one last time at the aircraft door.
You blow him a kiss, your smile brave but wobbly. ‘Goodbye, cowboy.’
He swallows hard, wanting to be strong for you, but still, his voice wavers. ‘I’ll see you, darlin’. So soon.’
You nod, your tears catching the afternoon light as the stewardess ushers you into the cabin.
Then it hits him.
You’re not going to be in his arms when he wakes up tomorrow. You’re not going to be there when he reaches around for you - your face, your neck, your voice.
You’re not going to be there.
Jack watches your tear-streaked face appear at one of the windows, and he tries to smile at you, wishing he’d insisted on one last kiss. The heat from the jet engines and the sun is bouncing off the tarmac, but he’s cold, so cold, that his fingers have gone stiff. Nothing feels real, as if he’s been wrapped in cling film and dunked underwater, and he almost doesn’t hear the voice to his left.
The air traffic controller says apologetically, ‘’Mfraid we gotta clear the runway, sir.’
He fumbles over his words. ‘’Course. Sorry.’
Pressing his index and middle fingers to his lips, he waves the kiss at you, which you catch with your palm against the glass. Determined not to miss one single second, he slowly walks backwards with the controller beside him as he waves the batons.
He says sympathetically, ‘It’s always hard, but it gets easier.’
Jack glances at him with a questioning look.
He chuckles good-naturedly. ‘You ain’t the first lovelorn cowboy I seen on this runway sayin’ ‘bye to his city girl.’
His lips quirk despite himself, eyes still on you even as the plane slowly taxis away. He says, ‘I sure hope you’re right, man.’
With one last wave, the plane pivots, and you disappear around the bend.
Empty. He feels empty.
The sadness is helium in his chest, inflating between the gaps of his ribs, and he feels himself drift even with each footfall of his heavy boots on the concrete, while a dull ache ricochets in the hollow spaces of his skull.
Grappling for an anchor, Jack forces himself to focus, one thing at a time. Key in the ignition, twist, the whirr of the engine. Switching on the radio, it cackles between the frequencies as he straps his Stetson to the backseat, then swings one leg over the saddle and puts on his helmet.
The static starts taking on shape, lyrics and guitar riffs cutting through the white noise and catching his attention just as he wraps his fingers around the rubber grip of the handlebars.
I want to ride off on a palomino
Feel the fire in my breath and the breeze in my hair as I go
Why the hell am I even looking back for?
For I know, where you go my love goes
For I know, where you go my love goes
He misses the ghost of your arms around his waist, the slope of your nose tucked into his nape. He misses you. He wants to see your face the minute you get off that plane on the other side of the country. He wants to hear your voice before he goes to bed tonight. He wants to tell you mornin’ first thing tomorrow when he gets up.
As the 737 roars overhead, the shadow passing over him, he wonders if you can spot him from the clouds.
He’d better crack on and get to the shop in town before it closes.
Steering smoothly out of the parking lot, Jack takes a left, the Silver Pony kicking up dust with a purr as she cruises down the country roads -
The same country roads that brought you to him.
Fin
More notes: I've been writing fanfiction on and off for the past 17 years. Corny as it sounds, it feels like everything I've ever written has been leading up to this fic. I put my heart and soul into Palomino, and it's repaid me tenfold. It gave me the chance to write about my love for horses, to fall in love not only with cowboy Jack, but with Darlin', Teak, the entire cast and the horses, this whole universe that I built in my head. And it gave me all of you - the most wonderful, supportive friends and readers I've had the pleasure of writing for.
I hope I will have the chance to revisit the Palomino universe one day. But for now, I'm ridiculously proud for finishing this series and for giving it the ending it deserves. I don't think I will ever write a fic that I love so deeply again. Palomino was it for me, and I'm forever grateful that I got to share this incredible journey with all of you.
There are some special people I need to thank, please forgive me if I leave anyone out, I appreciate each and everyone of you ❤️
LJ @prolix-yuy: The wonderful friend and writer who made me fall in love with cowboy Jack in first place with her epic Westworld Whiskey series, which is also coming to an end next week. I've said this many times and I'll never stop saying it - there would've been no Palomino if not for LJ. Thank you for being my inspiration bestie, you are the literal best.
Ash @mandoblowmybackout: My OG bestie and fellow cat mum, one of the first people I screeched about cowboy Jack to, I treasure our friendship so much, thank you for your support.
Maddie @imaswellkid: Maddie, thank you for being in my corner throughout Palomino and for holding my hand when I need it (which is often). Talking to you about Palomino in person - well, talking about anything and everything to you in person - was one of the most surreal moments of last year, and I'm hoping it won't be long before I see you again.
Sil @psychedelic-ink: Sil, light of my life, thank you for always being there for me, for listening and talking me down from the ledge many times. I'm so lucky to have you, and to have you love cowboy Jack as much as I do. Talking to you is always the highlight of my day!
Peaches @ohsomightypeaches: Screaming at you/being screamed at by you about anything cowboy Jack is always so much fun, and not just Jack, but also Teak, Champ, etc.. Your love for this series is beyond infectious, thank you for your support and for always making me smile!
Skye @iamskyereads: Skye my love, I believe I was admiring you from afar when you popped up in my notifs with a reblog of the first chapter, and I remember how excited I was! So grateful that Palomino brought you into my life.
Heidi @wildemaven: Thank you for gifting Palomino with not one beautiful video edit, but also a gorgeous moodboard! You are an angel!
Jules @julesonrecord: My fellow cowboy aficionado, your enthusiasm for s'mores and Jack always makes me smile. Thank you for your support, truly.
Jo @mvtthewmurdvck: Thank you for listening to me rant and rave and holding my hand during my meltdown. I'm so grateful for you!
Snowsuit anon: It's always a joy to hear from you, and I will hold you forever responsible for sparking the snowsuit craze (affectionate) 💙 Thank you for your support my lovely!
A special shoutout to my lovely readers who have followed Palomino from the very beginning. Thank you for sticking with me, I really feel like we went on this trip together, all of us: @lola-lola-lola, @harriedandharassed, @witchisenpai, @miss-mandalorian, @fireproofmarta, @dreamymyrrh, @inkededucatednnerdy, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @freakrenaissance, @axshadows, @damnyoupedro, @thosewickedlovelies, @peridotsparadox, @radiowallet, @sherala007, @shirks-all-responsibilities
And needless to say, thank you for every single one of you (I wish I could tag everyone but we'll be here all day!), every comment, reblog, ask, tag for Palomino. You have been an absolutely joy to write for, your love and encouragement kept me going, I really don't know how I've been so lucky, y'all have my heart forever ❤️
Last but not least, thank you @saradika for these adorable dividers!
#palomino series#jack daniels fanfiction#jack daniels x you#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x f!reader#agent whiskey fanfiction#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x f!reader#agent whiskey x reader#Spotify
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Bumps Along the Way
Larissa x Shapeshifter!Reader Pregnant!Reader Pregnant!Larissa
Warnings: Pregnancy struggles, Pregnancy/childbirth, Miscarriages, Mental illness, Swears or curses, Infant Death, Stillborn, PTSD, Panic attacks
A/N: This story is going to be heavy, it deals with real life situations that most don’t understand the pain of. 1 in 4 women will experience this in their lifetime, remember you don’t know everyone's history. Please be kind and I'm sorry if this makes you sob like it did me writing it.
Chapter 1: From the beginning
You and Larissa had been married now for 3 years, life had settled down and you both were extremely happy. Last year the school board decided to build a small 3 bedroom cottage on the school grounds for the headmistress and yourself as you both were longtime teachers and administrators of the school and had no intentions of leaving. You were coming up on your tenth year teaching at Nevermore and Larissa had been here since she was 15, the school, the students, etc.. it was your home. You would still have your old quarters attached to Larissa’s office for on-call nights, but you were ecstatic that you both had a real home on the grounds of your favorite place to be. It was far enough to have a bit of privacy, but close enough that if a student or teacher needed either of you.
As time went on and life settled down the two of you decided that you wanted to start a family, this though turned out to be no easy feat though. After multiple tries and tests, you were losing hope that you would ever get pregnant. You knew that both of you being shapeshifters meant that you wouldn’t have to find a donor or go through IVF, but you didn’t realize all the complications that would follow. Larissa was ecstatic about getting you pregnant, but the more time that passed you could see the saddened look on her face that she tried to hide with every negative test. After four months of negative tests, you decided to see an outcast OBGYN. After several tests you learned that your egg count was very low and the possibility of becoming pregnant was very slim. You were prescribed a various amount of medications, shots and hormones to take to hopefully assist you in your journey.
Larissa was the most kind and patient wife to you, supporting you through it all, giving you your shots while you cried every night and holding you after whispering sweet praises into your hair of how well you did. She kept a diary of your temperatures and cycles and finally after three months you two cried at the positive test setting on the counter. You were finally pregnant. You kept the pregnancy quiet not wanting to tell anyone until you knew the gender. The weeks went by and everything was going to plan, spending your evening curled up in her embrace on the sofa or bed adding things together to your pinterest boards. You had decided on a soft yellow nursery minimalist theme with little touches of gray here and there. As you approached your 20 week scan you were booming with excitement, you were halfway to meeting your little one, everything had gone so well and you found out that you were having a girl! You had painted the nursery and bought a beautiful teak wood crib and matching rocking chair. A soft yellow changing table was placed in the corner of the room, and hung above it was a sign that said “Baby Weems”. You had a soft yellow dresser next to it filled with onesies, diapers and all the other bits you would need. Larissa spent many evenings working on all the little things while you sat in the rocker watching her, cradling your bump and smiling. You had so much love for your unborn baby, and so did Larissa. The sweet little kisses to your bump and the way she talked to the baby were so lovely and gentle.
After dinner you two had decided on an early night, you had enjoyed a wonderful Mediterranean salad with grilled chicken and feta cheese (your new craving) and decided to take a nice hot shower together before climbing in bed. Larissa wrapped her arms around you and left small kisses on your neck before pulling you just a smidge closer and drifting off to sleep. But nothing could prepare you for the night that was about to unfold. You woke up to a sharp pain in your lower abdomen and a wet feeling between your legs. You shook Larissa awake and started to cry and shake uncontrollably when she turned on the bedside lamp and sucked in a breath when she saw the crimson stained sheets. Your voice shook as you tried to talk, but were overcome by another sharp pain. “Th-...The baby..” You cried out at her. She was up and out of bed immediately and grabbed you a new set of shorts. “It's okay my love, let's quickly change you out of those wet shorts and we will go straight to the hospital. I'll call doctor Montgomery on our way to meet us. Larissa gently cleaned you up in record time and carried you out to the car wrapped in a blanket. She had pulled you two into the Jericho emergency room lot in record time, picking you up as you cried out in pain and all but ran through the doors. Your doctor was waiting in the lobby for you and had a wheelchair ready. Your mind was spinning and you held your belly with one hand and Larissa’s with the other as you were rushed up to Labor and delivery.
The nurses tried to help you change, but you wouldn’t let them, you didn't want anyone to touch you but Larissa. She helped you change into a gown and they started an IV of fluids on you as your doctor did an ultrasound. During the process you felt a gush of fluid between your legs and your eyes went wide and you could only cry harder. Larissa held you as you kept a death grip onto her. When Dr. Montgomery spoke, you sobbed your heart out and Larissa couldn’t hold herself together anymore. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Weems… There is no heartbeat.” The words sounded like venom to your ears and before you could even speak a contraction ripped through your body, leaving you with a hoarse scream. Y/n I need to see how far dilated you are okay? Baby is too big so we're going to have to do this the old fashion way okay. “No!... I'm not ready!” You sobbed as she put on a pair of gloves and maneuvered your legs for you, you buried your face into Larissa’s chest. “Sweetheart you are already at 9cm, unfortunately we can't give you anything for the pain right now as you are too far progressed.” She looked at Larissa with a sorrowful expression as you writhed in pain. “I’ll be back in just a moment.” She excused herself to let the nurses know what was going on and that they were going to need extra support. By the time she got back into the room you were in full blown tears and squeezing Larissa’s hand for support. The nurses started to quietly come into the room without you noticing. The doctor whispered something to Larissa and she nodded, helping you sit up slightly as she lowered the back of the bed a bit. Larissa toed off her shoes and jacket and slid in behind you legs draped over the sides of the bed you could sit back against her and she could wrap you in an embrace.
You calmed only slightly in her hold. You were too zoned out in pain and mental exhaustion to realize the doctor checking you and putting your feet up in the stirrups. “Y/N its time to start pushing sweetheart” Dr. Montgomery said, lightly tapping your leg to get your attention. You looked up at Larissa with tears falling down your face. “I can’t do this” you spoke in a strangled cry. “My love you can, listen to your body it will guide you.” Your wife spoke softly through her own tears. As if on cue your body took over and you pushed with all you had in you. After two more pushes you felt your body relax and a tiny baby wrapped lightly in a blanket was put on your chest into your arms. You cried harder than you ever have before. Looking down at your baby now earthside and heavenside all at once. Larissa’s arms never releasing your hold as you trailed a finger down the baby’s tiny cheek. You felt another pain that wasn’t as bad as before and something released from your body. The nurses cleaned you up and helped you change into a new gown, never letting your baby leave your arms. The doctor told Larissa to take all the time you needed with her, and they dimmed the lights and left the room giving you some privacy.
Larissa had now shifted next to you and you were curled up in her arms, both of you cradling your tiny baby. She held the baby’s tiny hand with her fingers, softly stroking it. “We are going to be okay, my love.” She whispered to you. You spent 4 hours with your sweet, tiny little girl before the nurses came in and told you it was time. You cried silently into Larissa’s chest when they took her away. She let her tears fall into your hair as she held you. Two days later you went home, with no baby. You felt empty and lost. The funeral was tomorrow and you didn’t know how you were going to handle it. The time came and went and upon arriving back at your home you both were shocked to see your front yard and steps decorated with cards and flowers from what you could believe was from every student at nevermore. You silently let a few tears go, as did Larissa. Walking in to your home you noticed a card on your counter. Opening it you read the familiar cursive.
“The fridge and freezer are stocked with enough meals for several weeks. We all love you, take all the time you need, your Nevermore family will be here when you need us. -Much Love, Marilyn”
#larissa weems#gwendoline christie#gwendolineuniverse#larissa weems x reader#larissa x y/n#principal weems#wednesday#larissa x wife!reader#Pregnancy#miscarriage#TTC
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WCW 2: Briar among the fae (Part 1)
For day 2 of @wintercourtweek, we begin with our intrepid Briar, newly settled in to the court of Winter. Also, the traditions noted here - Briar's attempts at, um, you'll see - are drawn from Welsh tradition as laid out by the Tredyffrin Easttown Historical Society. The humans in ACOTAR are going to get some culture if the research kills me.
A comprehensive list can be viewed here!
TW: depictions of childbirth and pregnancy difficulties.
It had not taken Briar long to realize she had no useful skills whatsoever.
To the fae, that is; Briar could beat a rug or mend a sock as well as anyone, but every time she tried Viviane got a little pinched around the mouth. Not that she ever said anything; the Lady of Winter was too kind for that. Kinder than Briar deserved, really. The female would just smile tightly at dinner, eyes unnaturally blue, skin glinting, ask how she was sleeping, and nod understandingly at the answer. Never a hint of pity; that was the only reason Briar stayed.
That and the bit where she had nowhere else to go.
It made things worse, when she stopped. Surfaces glinted too brightly in the corner of her eyes, iridescent as bug wings, as mother-of-pearl.
That was new, for Briar: mother-of-pearl. The High Lord of Summer sent ships and ships of it, laid carefully into wood or stone. Viviane said it was because of an alliance, when she asked, bright as ever. Her husband - Briar cannot bring herself to think of the male as Kallias - frowned deeply when she said it, reaching for her hand like a lifeline.
She’d watched it, quiet as a mouse, the way her white knuckles paled around his fingers, the way he looked at her like she might float away to the heavens - no, the sky, the sky alone - if he let her go. She watched them often; they forgot she was there easily enough. It was entrancing, strangely entrancing: two predators, two creatures entirely different from Briar, entirely different from the beasts, looking at each other like they might fall to pieces if they spent a single second alone.
Anyway. Viviane gave her a wardrobe (gave was a strong word; one night she tossed and turned until she was firmly cocooned in the furs they’d given her, and the next morning it was there when she opened her eyes, which seemed odd but then Briar had never been given much of anything, so perhaps it was normal and she just didn’t know. Or perhaps it was normal for the fae; the difference hardly mattered). It was supposedly of teak, dark and strong, and mother-of-pearl gleamed around each of its edges, thick spirals that made Briar dream of the sea she had never freely seen.
A gift, unearned. If there was a way to give it back Briar would’ve, but the next morning the High Lord himself asked what she thought of it, and she could hardly look into his eyes - cold and smooth as glass, indescribable in the wrong light - and ask for it to be taken away. So it stayed. And it was pretty, even if her stomach sank every time she looked at it.
Then Viviane got pregnant, and things changed. She was around more often - the Lady hadn’t said, but Briar was fairly certain her husband had wrapped her in so many spells it was more efficient to stay inside than to leave and manage all of them at once. He left, just for a week, and by the second day Viviane lost all the color in her skin, walked around the halls like a faded flower, drooped as a birch in winter, thin branches weighed down with snow.
Briar knew little of fae health, but plenty of pregnancy; like any mortal girl, she’d been prepared for her expectant battle with death since birth. Perhaps monochrome was normal for high fae; from the glances of the servants that seemed to trail the Lady everywhere, too far to annoy but just close enough to rush to her side should she call, it wasn’t.
They were strange, the servants: tall and ice-thin, razor-sharp and silent. Opaque, but other, or sleek and dark and strangely spotted, brown eyes wide and shining.
(Briar hadn’t been brave enough to ask when she came, and now she couldn’t, but if she could - oh, there were so many things she wanted to know.)
On the third day she summoned her courage and swept to Viviane’s side; took her arm like a sister and asked if she’d thrown up yet. The Lady brightened; yes she had, twice, and behind her, one of the servants looked at Briar, brown-eyes unsettling, unblinking.
It didn’t matter. The Lady needed companionship; needed it like a compulsion, evidently. And Briar could do that. So she did.
Even once the High Lord returned, pale himself, clutching at his wife like he could stop it all if he held her long enough, it did not matter. Viviane was white as birch bark, white as snow, bloodless; she chattered constantly like long-ago birds in long-ago trees, when Briar was young enough to listen. Briar tried to leave her, thinking she should, but when Viviane rose carefully from the dining table the High Lord looked at Briar with nothing short of desperation, and, well. She might’ve been a fool - might be a fool, now and forevermore, trapped beneath the weight of her mistakes - but Briar was not cruel.
Privately, she was sure the Lady was going to die. Everyone seemed sure: the servants trailed her for weeks, healers visited on the daily; she could not go ten paces alone. Briar had seen harsh pregnancies; her sister, Amata, died at sixteen carrying her second child. By the end she had been nothing but a stick, thin and brittle and bloated.
Briar prayed, then. She ran for her brethren, gathered everyone together, as many as she could, everyone who could be found. They slipped on their cloaks and chanted, made up words supposedly known only to the fae. The fae, who could save her sister.
Amata died the very same day, not six hours after Briar returned, cloak hastily rolled up like she could hide her foolery.
Viviane never said she thought she might die. No one did, Briar noticed, not outwardly. They spoke only of her health, how the babe brought out her beauty, which was funny because the courtiers of Winter seemed to have no adjectives for their Lady other than beautiful. Before, when Briar had quietly listened after court sessions, they called her beautiful even as they bemoaned the loss of income due to a new plan she sponsored, the drain of resources, the benefits and disadvantages; now she was beautiful, too, colorless as the ghosts in stories of Briar’s childhood.
It was wrong. All of it was wrong, and more importantly hopeless. Amata died; so would Viviane.
And yet she could not help herself.
Please bring mistletoe, Briar wrote, carefully scratching the letters out on parchment she found in her drawers, another gift she never asked for.
Ironic; she’d thought nothing the Children of the Blessed taught her was helpful. None of it had been, except for the writing: it is the first and last time Briar is thankful, the one gift among their many lies. She can write, and so she will not have to stumble through asking.
(The scars on her back have not faded; they never will. Obviously. She is not fae, and will never be shining or perfect. Her freckles have faded, though, which is interesting in the dull sort of way all her body is interesting - because it is not.)
Viviane did not look at her strangely when she handed her clumps of the waxy plant. She did not protest when Briar made her sit down so she could string the leaves through the braid wrapped around her head, silver hair so heavy sometimes Briar notices Viviane rubbing her neck when no one is watching.
Briar crowned the Lady of Winter in green leaves, white berries like dull little stones in her hair, notable because they were stark, because they were not diamonds or pearls, because they were other in every way Viviane is not. Because, in truth, they matched the very color of her skin, yet more luminous by far.
It did not matter what they looked like, Briar knew. She could still hear Mother, humming softly in some distant dream, running the brush through her hair: no mistletoe, no luck. Remember that, my Briar Rose.
No mistletoe, no luck. Briar wrapped her Lady in it, head to toe. The High Lord grimaced when he saw his perfect mate, pale and drawn and covered in a mere plant, as if it were a spell, as if it could protect her.
Briar trembled when he walked in, knowing in her heart: he would laugh. He would laugh, and call her foolish. Stupid, even: a stupid girl trying again, after her first attempt proved her the greatest of idiots.
He didn’t, though, and the next day Briar had more ready for Viviane, but when she arrived it was already twisted into her hair, a small sprig tied around her waist. It was more than Briar would have thought anyone capable of noticing - really, of caring - but when she sat down for dinner, the High Lord gave her the smallest, most strained of smiles.
Briar hadn’t known he could, anymore.
After a month, though, it was clear: the mistletoe did not help. Or it did not help Viviane; Briar felt fantastic, which was worrying. Instead, she wrote, careful and even: Please bring sow-thistle. The leaves, please. I do not need the plant. But fresh, it must be fresh. Please.
The next morning a note lay on her wardrobe, right over a wide swoop of iridescence: Will have to import. This might suffice.
Next to it is a plant Briar had never seen in her life, spindly and tough, waxy as anything. But the leaves curled as they ought, and the flower at the top was thin, yellow petals dull and bright.
It was not her sow-thistle, but then Viviane hardly needed to run and never grow tired, as Grandmama whispered so long ago. Just to survive a baby.
Briar stripped the leaves from it, every one, and tied them around Viviane’s waist. She did not particularly seem to notice.
The next day, though, she ate more at dinner, thick rolls and potatoes and two of the cranberry cakes they served at every meal to tempt her. Briar smiled at her plate when she reached for a third; the High Lord smiled at her, though she did not see.
Viviane in her eighth month of pregnancy was spindly and thin, paler than she had any right to be, so pale that the berries in her hair outshined even the spark of her eyes. Amata, again; Amata reborn.
Briar noticed it one day, her fortieth consecutive day of picking thistle leaves off the ground and tying them back around Viviane’s waist. Viviane walked with her, arm-in-arm, chattering like tree branches in the wind. Briar did not have to speak, and she did not try to. Amata had been silent.
And so, that evening when all was quiet, when no spirits of ice wandered the halls, when every courtier was tucked up in the warmths of their rooms, Briar got out of bed. There were many places in the palace she never went, even with Viviane, but only one she avoided.
No longer. She had to go.
Her robe was long and gray and thick, so soft Briar imagined it was like she had wrapped herself in a cloud. If she closed her eyes, though, it was Mother’s blanket, the one she had worked five years to make, patchwork and thin and still the most beautiful thing Briar has seen.
She could not navigate the entire way to the shrine of the Mother with her eyes closed, but Briar managed most of it. The room was silent, quiet and fine and empty but for a single figure, leaning forward before the altar.
“Viviane?” Briar whispered. The figure did not turn, but it was her, Briar knew it was her. Hair unbound, mistletoe swept away, sow-thistle untied, left to dry in some brazier or another. The knowledge, all of it, hit her like - like - like a whip. Briar was brave enough to think it: like a whip.
She came forward, quiet as she could, sneaking with footsteps that echoed in the chamber. Viviane did not turn.
Briar sat next to her, robe pooling on the floor. Something shone on Viviane’s cheek, glinting in what little there was of light.
She leaned forward, lifted her thumb to wipe the wetness off of her cheek.
“How strange,” she said, not realizing she was speaking until the words hung unbroken in the air. “We cry the same.”
“Do we?” Viviane asked, very quietly.
She did not look over; Briar wrapped her thin, human arms around her anyway. They did not fit around the baby, but Viviane leaned into her side so strongly Briar hardly noticed.
“We do,” she murmured.
They sat in silence for a long time. Briar did not once bother to look up at the Mother, veiled and gleaming in her polished statue.
Viviane, dull and small, shaked in her arms. Her hair moved with her, sweeping around her shoulders, almost fabric, almost thread.
“She will not help me,” Viviane whispered.
Briar smiled, weak and thin. “Nor will my leaves.”
They hadn’t helped Amata, not at all. Briar will never forget.
“Did you believe it?” Viviane asked, twisting slowly so they faced each other. Her eyes were not as dull as they had been, once, but lined with such deep fatigue Briar felt tears pricking at the edge of her eyelids.
Briar sighed, and it came out like a groan.
“I cannot help it,” she admitted. Viviane squeezed her arm.
“Me neither,” she whispered. “Sometimes I wish I could.”
Briar smiled, because she knew, because quite possibly no one in the world knew better than she. And then there was nothing left to say, so she squeezed Viviane a little tighter, rocked like a ship on gentle waves. The fae moved with her, tears dripping down ageless cheeks.
Eventually sleep tugged at her eyelids, and Briar knew it was time. Viviane was light, lighter than she had any right to be, easy to pull upwards and guide out of the room.
The High Lord found them before Briar led her all the way back, tense and moving quickly, clad in nothing but thin pants for sleep. His entire body relaxed the moment he saw Viviane, Briar noticed.
He did not spare a glance for her; gently pulled Viviane into his arms, wiped the tears from her cheeks.
In the morning, though, Briar found a different blanket lying on a chair by her bed, quilted and thick. It was nothing at all like Mother’s; Briar sobbed over it anyway.
She wrote her last note when she finished crying: hazel, please, and twigs of any sort.
They come before the end of the day, and with Viviane near-catatonia next to her, Briar sat and wove the thin twigs into a little basket while a gaggle of healers tutted over their lady. Kallias watched, still as a statue, holding the pale little thing that passed for his wife’s hand.
He blinked when she handed him the cup, twigs poking oddly out the sides and stuffed to the brim with hazel. Briar frowned and plucked a piece of mistletoe from Viviane’s hair, stripped it of everything but stalk so she could tie the cup around his wrist. It hung oddly, bumping against his skin.
Kallias did not protest, though, and the next day she saw it hanging on his belt at dinner, strung around a little cord. Briar could not help but hope against all reason that the stories would hold: that for once, it would be real, that a wish would come true.
By the time Viviane went into labor, Briar considered it a miracle that she was alive at all. She had taken to stringing mistletoe around herself, too, stringing it through her own black hair; Briar knew very well that she had a cloud of bad luck to ward off.
Childbirth, Mother had said, is never a time for taking undue chances.
Kallias held her hand the entire time, twenty hours of sweating and grunting and curses so strong Briar dared to hope her friend would survive. Occasionally he shook it out; once he grimaced at the pain and Viviane said something so acerbic he laughed, actually laughed with something a little like joy. Briar could not remember if she had ever heard him laugh before.
In the end, the squalling baby - gray, for the love of whatever hapless god was watching over Briar, if there was even anyone there, gray and oddly wrinkled with a shock of white hair - was slipped into Briar’s arms as quickly as someone thought to wrap it. The chamber swarmed with healers, buzzing like bees around Viviane, Kallias silently gripping her hand so hard Briar wondered if he would break it off. It was left to her, then, to marvel at the child, the blinking odd eyes, the tiny feet and tinier toes.
Morana, Viviane had called her in the few moments they let her hold her baby, so that was what Briar whispered to her, counting her ten little fingers, marveling over silver eyelashes so thin they might as well not exist.
Briar, for perhaps the first time in her life, can feel nothing but wonder at the creature in her arms, at the tiny yarn. Or she can feel nothing but wonder until Morana opens her mouth wider than Briar would’ve thought possible and started absolutely squalling.
That was not the worst thing, really - Briar had siblings, once - so she bounced on her knees, carefully supporting the small, gray head, humming in the back of her throat. It did not work; Morana yelled louder, if possible, and grew freezing in her hands, so quick that Briar swore for the first time in her life and nearly dropped her.
“Give her to me,” Viviane croaked above the din of the healers, and Briar gently handed her off, quickly approaching a physical inability to hold onto the girl.
Viviane sang a wordless tune that Briar decided she couldn’t identify if she tried. Morana quieted as if by magic.
Kallias looked up at her and smiled, tired but sure. Beside him, Viviane looked down at her daughter, and her eyes sparkled as they had not in months. Bells rang outside the window, clanging so high and brassy and bright it went right through the window and got Morana screaming again.
She lived, of course. Briar did not and would never know why, but she did.
Maybe it was enough.
#winter court week#briar my beloved#i'm sorry for making every single character involved go through this#guys fae pregnancy would be a weird experience!!#and this is from Briar's pov#girlie does not and frankly should not know what's going on#she's doing her best ok???#we love her anyways#acotar#briar#kallias#viviane#kallias x viviane#angst#fluff#pregnancy
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Moriarty the patriot x Sick!Child!reader. Chapter 1 (Platonic)
Chapter 2 here
The MI6 could only gather little information about them since they were new to the circle of rich aristocrats.
The Quinn family owned luxurious hotels whose popularity and income just went above the roof, which is surprising since they’ve only been in the industry for a few years. Due to this, they were suspected of smuggling drugs across countries. Only problem was that the military had no evidence. Albert was instructed to check the family out, but since he had to do some preparations on ‘The final problem’ William decided to go instead.
As the carriage stopped, William turned towards the window and saw a large mansion. It had british architecture and was lavishly decorated in the family’s signature colour purple.
He was greeted by the master and mistress of the family as he exited the carriage. “Welcome Mr Moriarty it’s finally good to meet you.” Richard Quinn says this as he shakes William’s hand a little too vigorously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too Mr Quinn.” He replies. “Please come in. We have prepared some special Darjeeling tea just for you.” Elisabeth Quinn motions him towards the garden of the estate. After that all three engage in small talk to which William could only pretend to like. Eventually, a topic peaked his interest. “Yes,yes our daughter too has the same habit.”
“Daughter? You both have a daughter?” William sips tea from his cup. “Yes,we just adopted her a few days ago.” She slices her cake with more force than needed creating an unpleasant cling sound. “She is still adapting to her surroundings so we didn’t bring her here.” she continues. William too was once an adopted kid and yes, it does take time to adapt but he started to get a bit suspicious of them.
"Is it possible for me to meet her personally?"
The couple both look at each other after William says this. “Sure. Let me lead you to her.” Richard gets up from his chair and so does William. While walking, Mr Quinn says “Our daughter has a medical condition due to which she cannot talk much, so please don’t force her to talk.” he nodded and kept this point in mind. A mute child is perfect if the parents want to keep a secret from society.
After a few minutes of walking they both enter a grand library.The shelves were made from a wood of dark colour possibly walnut or teak. All the books there were binded by some sort of luxurious leather. After going in a little deeper William sees a small girl sitting on the table copying something from a book. Richard whispers “I’ll introduce you to her and then leave you alone.”
William nods again and both of them come up to you. “Y/n?” Mr Quinn taps on the table. You immediately stop writing and look at both of them. “This is our guest Mr William James Moriarty.” He points at William. “I’m going to leave both of you alone now.”
After Mr Quinn leaves William sits next to you. “Like your father said, My name is William. What’s yours?” He felt a bit guilty making you talk in your condition but for the sake of the mission some things need to be done.
You take a bunch of flash cards connected to a flash card ring. You flip to a page with you name on it and show it to him. Clever. “Y/n. What a lovely name. How are you adjusting to your new life?” He turns slightly towards you. You immediately flip to an empty card and write ‘It’s going alright.’
He notices this was not a direct reply to his question. Either you don’t have much to say or you were threatened by your parents. Though he does try to eliminate the second option since you are wearing a luxurious dress. Nevertheless he still doubts.
“I see.” He leans onto the table.
“Are you happy with your new life?” He enquires. You write ‘Yes I’m quite content with my life.’ He smiles and then looks at what you were reading. “On the Origin of species…” he reads the title out loud. He also looks at the notes you were writing and sees the key points of the book written neatly.
“You should explore other parts of science as well. Why don’t we try to find other books on physics and chemistry here?” He gets up and extends his arm. In reply, you hold his hand.
“Can you take me to the science section?” You nod to his question and take him there
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“Yes, yes, maybe…no.” William picks a few books and takes them in and out of the shelf. All the books he thought were suitable to read were given to you to hold. “That’s about it.” he turns towards you. “Let’s go back and sit down.” He takes the books from you and carries them.
“Thank you.” This is the first time you spoke to him. He didn’t know what you were thanking for, maybe for holding the books, maybe for helping you select books or maybe for something else. But more importantly he was taken aback by your voice. Your voice did crack a bit due to your lack of talking, but in his ears they were melodious; like crunchy sweet.
Suddenly the clock chimes, an indication that it is now evening. “Oh my, time went by fast. It seems it’s time for me to go now.” he replies. He kept the books on a small wooden chair but when he was about to leave you grab onto his sleeve. He could see you mouthing ‘Don’t leave’.
“Why?” he questions. You slowly take back your hand from his sleeve and mouth him ‘Sorry’. William kneels down to your level, expecting you to say a reason for your action.
‘The first person to not make fun of me is you.’ he frowns as he looks at your card. “What about your parents?” he inquired. ‘Well they aren’t mean to me but that doesn’t mean that they are kind.’ you’re hesitant to show this card and he can tell.
He tries to calm you down by patting your head and to some extent, it works. “Don’t worry,” he reassured. “I’ll take care of this.” “But how?” You questioned back. “That…” He gets up and looks at you. “Is my problem. You just relax” He tilts his head as a sign of respect and leaves the room, leaving you a bit confused and dumbfounded.
#moriarty the patriot#yuukoku no moriarty#william james moriarty x yn#william james moriarty x reader
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12 Amazing Wooden Door Designs For Your Home
When you are designing the interior of your home, give some thought to the design of the doors. Doors are primarily a functional element of your home, as they provide much-needed security and privacy from the outside world. The design of doors is also important, as it can add to the aesthetic appeal and enhance your decor statement. We've rounded up the best wooden door designs to give you decor inspiration.
Front doors add character and style to the outside of your home and create the first impression of your home for visitors. They should be in keeping with the architectural elements of your building. Is it classical or contemporary? Would a natural framed door look good, or should it be painted to match the other design elements?
Are you aware of the difference between the wood used to make doors and furniture? If not, this guide will help you make the right choice between different types of wood before investing in furniture and decorative items, crafts, and handicrafts to decorate homes.
Ideas to incorporate beautiful Wooden Door Design in Your Home
1. Contemporary Teak wood Door
Here's a contemporary door in teak wood with a vertical glass insert that allows you to see who your visitors are before you even open the door. You can take, help best interior designers in Noida so they can guide you through this process.
2. Three Side Glass Panelled Wooden Door
This lovely entry door makes a grand statement and is surrounded on three sides by glass panels which add a lovely aesthetic.
3. Teak Wood Rectangular Panel doors with Mirror
Rectangular panels in polished teak wood emphasize this country home's rustic plaster façade, while tall glass panels on one side add functionality.
4. Rosewood Door
This fine rosewood door is embellished with cornice detailing and includes white panels to add visual appeal.
5. Ornamental Wrought Iron Doors
Gorgeous decorative wrought iron sets distinguish the panelling in this mahogany front door that blends in perfectly with the home's exposed brick façade.
6. Minimalist White Wooden Door
Elegant in white, this charming front door is detailed with molded panels that are simple and clean. The side window, even in white, gives a glimpse of the visitors.
7. Functional and Aesthetic Balcony Doors
Balcony doors are the transition between the inside and outside of your home. Large glass French windows can open the view and allow a seamless view of your garden. If you need privacy, use frosted or opaque glass that will still let in light.
Related blog: 15 DIY Vertical Garden Ideas in Budget
8. Glass Bathroom Doors
We love opening these all-glass bathroom doors to a private balcony. The dark wood frame is sleek and minimalist.
Related blog: 15 Bathroom Decorating Ideas on Budget for 2024
9. Wooden Doors with Glass for a Glimpse of The Outdoors
Glass adds a touch of contemporary style to any design and can make heavy doors look visually lighter. Strategically placed glass panels can allow sunlight to flow through during the day, bringing freshness and happiness to your home.
Related blog: How to Build a Gravel Patio: DIY 9 Steps
10. Get Twice the Style with Double Doors
If you have the space, open your areas with more eloquence. Double Door Twice adds elegance and makes a grand statement.
If you want to keep one side short and use only one side as an entry door, the overall width of your double door should be at least 6 feet.
Double doors look better in homes with high ceilings, as the design proportions work better in larger spaces.
Related blog: Types of False Ceiling Lights: Complete Guide
11. Sliding Doors That Are Sleek and Functional
Sliding doors allow you to create privacy when needed in open-plan homes. There are different types of sliding doors, including doors that completely disappear into the wall on either side. There are some sliding low folding doors that stack on the sides of the opening. Sliding doors come with single track (or top hung), and double track fittings.
12. Glass Panelled Doors
This glass-panelled wooden door slides in on both sides as well as is surrounded by glass above, allowing expansive views of the interior.
#Latest Wooden Door Design 2024#Wooden Door Designs#Door Design Ideas#Modern Door Design#Best Door Design For Home
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Singapore’s Best Wood Decking Installation | RSR Engineering
We offer high-quality wood decking installations at affordable prices. Trust RSR Engineering for durable, stylish decking solutions. Contact us today.
Enhance Your Outdoor Space with Wood Decking: A Guide by RSR Engineering Singapore:
In Singapore’s warm, tropical climate, outdoor living spaces are an extension of our homes. A beautifully designed deck not only enhances the aesthetics of your outdoor area but also adds functionality and value to your property. At RSR Engineering, we specialize in crafting premium wood decking solutions tailored to your needs.
Why Choose Wood Decking?
Wood decking offers unparalleled beauty and durability, making it an ideal choice for residential and commercial spaces. Here are some reasons why it’s a popular option in Singapore:
1. Natural Aesthetic Appeal:
Wood decking provides a warm and timeless look, blending seamlessly with natural surroundings. It’s perfect for balconies, and poolside areas.
2. Durability in Tropical Climates:
High quality hardwoods, like teak or chengal, are highly resistant to moisture, pests, and UV rays, ensuring long-lasting performance in Singapore’s humid weather.
3. Versatile Design Options:
Whether you prefer a sleek modern style or a rustic charm, wood decking can be customized to complement your outdoor design vision.
4. Sustainability:
Many wood decking options come from sustainable sources, making it an eco-friendly choice for conscious homeowners.
Why RSR Engineering?
As a leading provider of home improvement services in Singapore, RSR Engineering prides itself on quality craftsmanship and customer satisfaction. Our experienced team ensures every project is executed with precision and care, delivering results that exceed expectations.
Our Wood Decking Services at RSR Engineering:
1. Custom Design and Installation:We collaborate closely with clients to design and install wood decking that meets their unique requirements. From small patios to expansive decks, no project is too big or small.
2. Deck Maintenance and Restoration:
Keep your decking looking fresh with our polishing and refinishing services. Our team ensures your wood remains smooth, safe, and visually appealing for years.
We use sustainable wood materials and non-toxic finishes to ensure minimal environmental impact.
Essential Tips for Wood Decking by RSR Engineering Singapore:
Wood decking can elevate your outdoor spaces with its natural beauty and durability. To ensure your deck remains stunning and functional for years to come, consider these expert tips from RSR Engineering.
1. Choose the Right Type of Wood
Not all woods are created equal. Select a durable hardwood suitable for Singapore’s tropical climate. Popular choices include:
Chengal: Highly durable and resistant to decay.
Teak: Premium, weather-resistant wood with natural oils that repel water and pests.
Merbau: Affordable and sturdy, with a rich, dark finish.
2. Prioritize Quality Installation
Proper installation ensures the longevity of your deck. Partner with experienced professionals like RSR Engineering for precise measurements, secure fastenings, and optimal spacing to prevent warping or water pooling.
3. Opt for a Protective Finish:
Apply a sealant or finish to protect your decking from moisture, UV rays, and pests. Choose finishes that enhance the wood's natural beauty, such as:
Oil-based finishes for a glossy look.
Water-based finishes for a matte appearance and low VOC levels.
4. Maintain Regularly:
Regular maintenance helps keep your deck in top condition:
Clean Weekly: Sweep debris and wash with a mild soap solution to prevent mold growth.
Inspect Annually: Check for signs of rot, cracks, or loose boards and address issues promptly.
Reapply Sealants: Refinish every 1-2 years to maintain protection and color vibrancy.
5. Ensure Proper Drainage:
Good drainage prevents water from pooling on or around your deck, which can cause wood to swell or decay. Install a slight slope or drainage system during construction.
6. Consider Design Features:
Add elements to enhance the functionality and aesthetics of your deck:
Built-in lighting for nighttime use.
Planters or seating integrated into the design.
Privacy screens or vertical decking for added charm and utility.
7. Use Sustainable Materials
Opt for wood from sustainable sources to reduce environmental impact. At RSR Engineering, we prioritize eco-friendly practices to align with green building initiatives.
8. Protect Against Termites
Singapore’s climate makes termite protection essential. Use treated wood and inspect your deck periodically for signs of infestation.
9. Blend with the Environment
Choose a wood color and texture that complements your home's style and outdoor surroundings. Neutral tones and natural finishes often work best for versatile appeal.
10. Partner with Experts:
Work with a trusted company like RSR Engineering. Our expertise ensures a seamless experience, from design to maintenance, giving you a deck that’s both beautiful and built to last.
Benefits of Wood Decking by RSR Engineering Singapore:
Natural Beauty and Elegance
Durability
Versatility in Design
Increased Property Value
Comfortable and Cool Surface
Eco-Friendly Option
Easy Maintenance
Excellent Insulation
Adaptability to Outdoor Living
Sustainable Investment.
RSR Engineering Singapore is here to help you maximize these benefits with expertly crafted wood decking solutions tailored to your needs. Contact us today @ +65 94609172 or you can also email us on [email protected] to transform your outdoor space into a stunning, functional retreat.
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Three Things in One Creature - Part 1: Dragons, Harpyies and Sphinxes
In my introduction, I tried to explain why I consider prophecies in the world of ice and fire to be warnings. Now I want to talk about another constant that appears in all books. The beings from the legends and stories of ancient mythology. All representatives from this book series have been taken from Greek mythology and two of them are slightly changed. Dragons have a fiery breath in Greek mythology, but mostly no wings, in addition, they are mostly the antagonists and always the reason why the hero moves out to save a princess. Incidentally, this motif of the noble knight, who frees the princess from a dragon, originates from antiquity. The Greek dragon from antiquity often has several heads, due to the little evidence from this period, only two examples are known by name, the hundred-headed Typhon and the nine-headed Hydra. The idea of a dragon with several heads is also directly from this time. The harpy is in Greek mythology a bird being with the body and head of a woman. In the books, however, the harpy has alongside the human torso and head, bat wings, eagle claws and the tail of a scorpion.
»In the center of the Plaza of Pride stood a red brick fountain whose waters smelled of brimstone, and in the center of the fountain a monstrous harpy made of hammered bronze. Twenty feet tall she reared. She had a woman’s face, with gilded hair, ivory eyes, and pointed ivory teeth. Water gushed yellow from her heavy breasts. But in place of arms, she had the wings of a bat or a dragon, her legs were the legs of an eagle, and behind she wore a scorpion’s curled and venomous tail. « - Daenerys 2, A Storm of Swords.
The last character from our mythology is the Sphinx and here it gets more interesting. Because both the dragons and the harpy were changed by Martin to fit the realities of the story he wrote, why one has to give the tail of a scorpion to an ancient wind spirit, which was under the command of the King of the Gods Zeus, I do not know and I do not care. The dragons were led by the obstacles of the hero, to the allies and the harpy to their enemies, which is especially interesting because the harpies in many stories are destructive wind spirits and according to Hesiod these harpies were the descendants of the hundred-headed dragon Typhon after Zeus imprisoned Typhon. It makes Harpies the sisters of the nine-headed Hydra and the Sphinx. The sphinx was not changed at all, but if you search for sphinxes in Google, you first get to see the Egyptian sphinx. Which is important, because this sphinx has no wings. Unlike Martins.
»It had been Lazy Leo who dubbed Alleras „the Sphinx.“ A sphinx is a bit of this, a bit of that: a human face, the body of a lion, the wings of a hawk. Alleras was the same: his father was a Dornishman, his mother a black-skinned Summer Islander. His own skin was dark as teak. And like the green marble sphinxes that flanked the Citadel’s main gate, Alleras had eyes of onyx.« - Prologue, A Feast for Crows.
Just like the harpy from our mythology, the original that Martin was probably inspired by, the Sphinx is a daughter of Typhon, so also a kind of dragon. Later Sam mentions that the sphinxes that Lazy Leo mentioned in the prologue had snake-headed tails. This is not from Greek mythology, but an interpretation of archaeologists who dug up statues of sphinxes and recorded descriptions of them in writing. And the rods were described as they looked like serpents; which is not wrong, the pictures of such statues show, that due to erosion and the way the artists shaped these, the snake comparison is quite comprehensible. As in our mythology, sphinxes in Westeros pose riddles like Roone mentioned in the prologue of A Feast for Crows.
»“The day you make them all is the day you stop improving.” Alleras unstrung his longbow and eased it into its leather case. The bow was carved from goldenheart, a rare and fabled wood from the Summer Isles. Pate had tried to bend it once, and failed. The Sphinx looks slight, but there’s strength in those slim arms, he reflected, as Alleras threw a leg across the bench and reached for his wine cup. “The dragon has three heads,” he announced in his soft Dornish drawl.“Is this a riddle?” Roone wanted to know. “Sphinxes always speak in riddles in the tales.”“No riddle.” Alleras sipped his wine.« - Prologue, A Feast for Crows.
It also suggests that the Sphinx in the stories of Westeros also has a guardian function like the Sphinx in our mythology. The figure of the Sphinx was thus not changed in any way by Martin. But then Maester Aemon makes an interesting statement in A Feast for Crows, which many fans take as a reason for speculation. This is this passage.
»When he woke he’d call for Sam, insisting he had to tell him something, but oft as not he would have forgotten what he meant to say by the time that Sam arrived. Even when he did recall, his talk was a jumble. He spoke of dreams and never named the dreamer, of glass candles that could not lit and eggs that would not hatch. He said the Sphinx was the riddle, not the riddler, whatever that meant.« -Samwell 4, A Feast for Crows.
Many fans think that this is an indication that Alleras is not who he pretends to be, but Sarella Sand, one of Oberyn Martell’s bastard daughters. Especially because Alleras mentions in the prologue the sentence which is otherwise only said by Targaryens and the Undying of Quarth. In addition, Sam meets him at the end of A Feast for Crows and Alleras is very interested in what Sam has to say about Maester Aemon. In my opinion, the enigmatic Sphinx is not Alleras, but a reference to the heroes in this story, which is not Azor Ahai. Several times we are reminded by the Targaryens in this story that the dragon has three heads and Aemon regrets that he is not younger to help Daenerys.
»„Daenerys is our hope. Tell them that, at the Citadel. Make them listen. They must send her a maester. Daenerys must be counseled, taught, protected. For all these years I’ve lingered, waiting, watching, and now that the day has dawned I am too old. I am dying, Sam.“ « -Maester Aemon, Samwell 4, A Feast for Crows.
Aemon also says in this chapter that he and Rhaegar always misunderstood the prophecy. This is a motive that we have more often in the story, people who receive a prophecy, try to interpret it and make mistakes. In addition, their obsession with this prophecy leads them to overlook the things that are happening just in front of their eyes. The best example of this fact is Daenerys and Cersei, not because they are both women, but because they are the only characters who really receive a prophecy. Cersei searches all the time for the woman who, according to the prophecy she received from Maggi the Frog, is responsible for her downfall. Daenerys constantly searches for the three traitors announced to her in her prophecy. Both overlook the obvious, what is happening right now. Daenerys always worries about the traitors, while there is a Civil War happening around her and escapes a poison attack, only because she does not eat those sweetened locusts that are offered to her. Cersei tries to disable the younger and more beautiful Queen, who she believes is Margaery, and does not realize that she has a far more dangerous opponent with the High Sparrow, who she believes to be her ally. Prophecies are warnings, but the figures in the story are obsessed with them and see the fulfilment of their prophecy all around them. And the reader follows the thoughts of the characters and takes them for bare coins although we as readers should see the bigger picture and therefore assume a less biased position than the figures that concern the prophecy.
But the Sphinx and the Dragon with the Three Heads are not prophecies only images, and analogies that put the characters before puzzles that misinterpret them or answer them incorrectly. So Sam asks Alleras if he knew what Maester Aemon meant by his pronouncement.
» Sam fumbled for a penny. „Are you a novice?“ „An acolyte. Alleras, by some called Sphinx.“ The name gave Sam a jolt. „The sphinx is the riddle, not the riddler,“ he blurted. „Do you know what that means?“ „No. Is it a riddle?“ „I wish I knew. I’m Samwell Tarly. Sam.“ « Samwell 5, A Feast for Crows.
This scene and what happens afterwards is often seen as an indication that the riddle that addresses Aemon must be Alleras. However, any attentive reader of these books, already noticed in the prologue that Alleras is the disguised Sarella sand. After all, Doran Martell mentions that Sarella is in Old Town and he can do nothing to get hold of her. In addition, we learn that she is the most curious and read by Oberyn’s daughters and we know that the citadel does not accept women. So if Sarella wanted to study in the citadel, she has to dress up as a man. Moreover, Aemon has never met Alleras or even heard of him, so why should the pronouncement refer to him?
#anti daenerys targaryen in some way#my meta#I want to look at it from a different point of view#no beta so if you find errors their yours to take
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1, 5, 44!
thank you so much for asking! i'm sorry it took me so long to respond, I was like 'ah yes, I'll wait until I'm not on my phone' and then. forgor.
Do they have any crafting hobbies?
Marr (Changeling Monk) creates costumes for xyr storytelling troupe! They've long since sewn their own clothes, primarily as a form of rebellion when they were young, but found xyr skill celebrated when xe started travelling with the Spinning Yarns!
I feel like Māhina (Aasimar-Goliath Sorcerer) is gonna take up a craft. I'm not sure what it'll be yet, maybe wood carving. I'll have to do a bit of hunting for the right one for her. She'll use it to create with her hands, when she feels like all she does is break.
Vye (Fire Genasi Blood Hunter) used to really enjoy crafting things out of snow and ice, when they lived up North. Does that count? I think their work probably got quite well known, before It All Went Down.
Dam enjoys drawing. He's not particularly good, but he enjoys it.
5. Do they have any tattoos? If so what are they and do they have any special meaning?
Marr has a magical tattoo! Xe got it in the very first session, along with the rest of the party as they were marked by a mysterious force that we're all still figuring out! The tattoo lets them link minds with someone else. Marr also has two bands around her left forearm, representing Gait (her late wife) and Kin (her child).
Māhina doesn't have tattoos, alas. I think her clan has special tattoos, but she always resisted getting them and probably will never get those specific ones. She's quite noticable as a person (she has a glowing moon halo and is 7ft tall) so I don't think she'd get any noticable ones, but maybe she'd get one for just herself in future. Maybe something plant like to show that things can grow even in harsh terrain. A dandelion would be lovely and meaningful to her.
Vye has allllll the tats, I reckon. She's the kind of person to get a tattoo because she thinks it looks cool so she's covered, and uses the meaningless ones to hide the few meaningful ones. I imagine she's got one for her little sister hidden, and her mentor.
Dam doesn't have any tattoos, I don't have any reasoning, I think he just prefers to keep meaningful things in his heart, and doesn't see a point to ones that don't hold meaning.
44. Who, if anyone, would they trust with their deepest secrets?
Marr's list is very small. Gait, who is dead now, knew everything about them. I think Gait's grandmother, their mentor in all things monk to a lesser extent. Marr is a deeply private person. I think when Kin grows up, Marr will share some of the parts of them with Kin, but only certain parts. Most of the secrets and stories that Marr holds will be hidden deep inside them until someone can break that barrier of trust.
Māhina is very adrift. She's found herself stuck with a band of yahoos only by virtue of having died and becoming basically a slave, punishable by death if she disobeyed. I think the only person she'd consider telling her secrets to is her fellow party member Yurris, and even then, only if circumstances meant it was necessary. She's deeply, deeply, DEEPLY afraid of being vulnerable, so Yurris has really only breached the outer layer of her defenses, but he still has alllll the walls and the cannons and the moat to go through.
For a while, Vye considered telling Teak (her ex-girlfriend, it's... complicated) all her secrets, but Teak abandoned her before she could. So alas, she doesn't really have anyone any more. Her old ship captain, Mercy Judgeway, potentially. Her mentor back home, if Vye even knew where she was. I think Vye told her little sister everything she could that wouldn't put Avan in danger.
Dam told his partners everything. Shame that one of his partners didn't do the same, even though Rakelle was only trying to protect him and the other 2.
(I'm realising a few of my characters are deeply deeply lonely people. Damn. I'm sure that's totally fine and for no reason at all.)
Ask me things from this list about my D&D characters!
Thank you so much! This was so much fun, I love discovering things about my own dnd characters while thinking about them!
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Splendid Garden Furniture
Garden furniture can add excellence to your home. Garden is an augmentation of your home and it should be outfitted well. An inadequately outfitted front yard with old furniture can deface the magnificence of your home. Centers and gardens are a piece of a house and ought to be offered due consideration. Decorating your home with the right sort of outdoor furniture will finish its look. It can make click here to learn more your home appealing and get the notice of guests. In any case, you must pick the right type of furniture.
Outdoor furniture things like garden loungers, sofas, chairs, coffee tables, and so forth ought to mix well with the insides of your home. For example, in the event that you have a contemporary look inside, traditional or antique looking furniture won't be a decent decision for the outdoors. This is the principal general guideline while choosing outdoor things.
Another important angle that you should consider while buying garden furniture is the suitability to weather patterns. The weather patterns may not be similar in that frame of mind of UK. Subsequently, picking furniture that suits the weather patterns is important. One of the most incredible choices is to pick all-climate furniture things. It is coming up short on support and will support a wide range of weather patterns.
There are many decisions for outdoor furniture things and we are sure that you will be spoilt for decision. These furniture things can likewise be requested online from the comfort of your home. They accompany a price match ensure. You can anticipate the best prices for garden furniture. They are accessible in different materials like wood, rattan and metal. Here are a portion of the variations that you could pick.
Variations For Furniture
Wooden Furniture: There are many choices in the type of wood. Probably the most preferred woods are teak wood, oak wood and hard wood. Wood looks exquisite and is a record-breaking #1 among buyers. A few woods might require support like covering with stain, yet a few woods like teak scarcely need upkeep.
Rattan Furniture: Rattan garden furniture is unimaginably strong yet adaptable. This feature of rattan empowers producers to form it in stylish plans. It looks modern and stylish. Also, it is light in weight and can be moved around without any problem.
Metal Furniture: Metal furniture has an old world appeal. It looks particular and is accessible in fashioned iron with a covered completion. Metal furniture is very falling short on support.
Under every one of these classes, you can find a lot of furniture things like garden loungers, Teak Garden Furniture, seats, coffee tables, chairs, sofas, outdoor tables, swing seats, bar stool and tables, garden loungers, parasols, and substantially more. Every one of these furniture things are accessible in various shapes and sizes to address different issues. They are styled with the most contemporary plans.
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The 10 Best Cheap Hotels in Mumbai
If you're trying to travel for a reasonable price or just want to spend your money at Mumbai's most popular restaurants, pubs and shopping areas, consider staying in the most affordable accommodation in Mumbai. We're confident, however we can assure you that in Mumbai affordable and luxurious are not two distinct things. Stay in a pod, and share a room in a hostel or guesthouse that has character, or go for a gorgeous boutique hotel. Into "experiential" travel? It is possible to check into a Slum. That's right. Some of the best cheap hotels in Mumbai near Marine Drive, Juhu beach, Bandra, etc.
The best time to visit Mumbai is from October to February when the city has its winter. This is the perfect time for traveling and sightseeing as the weather is moderate and you can comfortably walk about the city as you explore its glory and mysteries. You can easily book your cheap flights to Mumbai with Lowest Flight Fares and enjoy a trip.
1. Urbanpod Hotel
In space-strapped Mumbai, a capsule hotel makes complete sense. Each of the tiny pods have a sink-into bed, a TV and a small locker, armor with mirrors and of course, free WiFi. Couples are able to choose the suite-pod whereas solo travelers are likely to appreciate the standard cafeteria-cum-lounge that is available to everyone. Due to the excellent amenities and affordable price, Mumbai's very first pod-hotel is booked quickly so be sure to reserve your room ahead of time.
2. Abode
The property is situated in a structure that's more than 100 years of age. Take a trip back to the past: furniture made of wicker, Burma teak-wood flooring and antique clocks grace the room. The majority of the furniture and fittings were purchased from second-hand stores and blend with the historic buildings beautifully. A few of the rooms have bathtubs from the past! These cheap hotels in Mumbai are highly rated by couples.
If you like reading such blogs then check out the best market in mumbai on Impetus Labs. On this site you will find blogs on best cheap market in mumbai, best shopping market in mumbai, best famous market in mumbai, cheapest market in mumbai, mumbai shopping market, main bazar bombay, best mumbai market, mumbai cheap market, mumbai main bazar, bombay main bazar, main mumbai bazar, bazar mumbai, mini mumbai bazar, bombay bazar.
3. Hotel Sea Princess
In the Sea Princess Hotel Sea Princess rooms that offer uninterrupted views of Juhu beach You'll be reminded of the fact that Mumbai can be described as an island town. The staff is friendly, the rooms are spacious The pool is stunning The fitness and spa are excellent, and the restaurant and lounge are delicious. Do you need any more reason to be convinced to book a room here? The hotel is more affordable than the average.
4. YWCA International Guest House
Want to stay in a luxury south Mumbai for a reasonable price? Take a trip into the YWCA International Guest House. It's a short distance away from the historical Gateway of India, the bustling Colaba street market and The Prince of Wales Museum, numerous stunning Victorian buildings along with Marine Drive for those who are looking to take a stroll along the water. Choose shared rooms for greater savings, and you'll be staying with three other budget travelers who are of the similar gender.
5. Ginger Hotel
It's true this budget hotel isn't at all budget-friendly. If you're in search of a clean and safe business hotel that has comfortable rooms as well as amenities like room service, fitness center, meeting rooms, laundry, Wi-Fi and more, Ginger in Andheri won't leave you disappointed. It's located in the suburbs, and just only a short rickshaw ride from the bustling and up-market neighborhood of Bandra.
6. OYO
Have you ever seen hotel photos on the internet and then felt disappointed in life, when the room isn't as appealing as those shiny images? It's true that chain hotels like OYO can reduce the likelihood of this happening. Whether you're looking to book a room in Goa or Mumbai (choose from a variety of locations that span across the south from northern to southern) You'll get the same standard 30-odd amenities. Look for clean sheets, a flat-screen TV, free toiletries and free Wi-Fi among other great amenities. On average, a cheap hotels in Mumbai costs € 1.97 per night (based on Booking.com prices).
7. Executive Enclave
This hotel located in Bandra will bring color to your business travels. From the chic and spartan interiors, to the spacious dining area in the courtyard (Veranda) it is the ideal spot to unwind after a tiring day of exploring or working in Mumbai.
8. Garden Hotel
The location is the best This is what you will find at this hotel with 34 rooms located in Colaba. The rooms are large, somewhat basic in appearance however they are well-maintained. The service is friendly all the time and even in the restaurant that is on-site and offers complimentary breakfast. People who can't get enough will also appreciate the free Wi-Fi.
9. Bombay Backpackers
Students who are traveling on their own and looking to make friends while traveling should opt to stay at Bombay Backpackers. There aren't many hostels in Mumbai and even fewer are decorated in cheerful colors and with faux-teak wood bunks. The hostel is just a only a couple of minutes from Kurla Railway Junction, where you can take an auto and travel to south Mumbai within 30 minutes. You can also walk out, call an autorickshaw and stroll through the suburbs.
10. Slum Hotel
Around 60 percent of Mumbai's residents live in the slums. Get a glimpse of Mumbai as "real Mumbai" by checking into the Slum Hotel. It is essentially the home of a family from the local area and you'll feel as if you're an integral part of their family. You'll be sharing spaces with them, observe them do their work and talk about their experiences from all over the world. Although it could seem an escapist experience, keep in mind that the proceeds can help the family support its existence and provide you with insight into the lives of the poorest people in the city.
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Baroque Style Carved Large Wall Mirror Frame
The gorgeous wooden Baroque-style frame is made in premium teak wood. This Italian mirror frame has a charming openwork design. Artfully crafted scrolls of leaves create a luxurious pompous composition that looks attractive and splendid. This mirror frame is designed for framing vintage mirrors used in living rooms, bedrooms, and halls in status interiors. The floral ornament is professionally made by our master craftsmen. It will elegantly decorate rooms with luxurious classic furniture or will become the dominant detail in laconic design rooms.
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Ricochet Factory: Elevating Sports Facilities with Premium Wooden Flooring in Jaipur
The demand for high-quality sports facilities in Jaipur is on the rise, especially when it comes to indoor courts for games like badminton. A key element in creating a professional and comfortable playing environment is the flooring. Whether it's for a professional venue, a sports academy, or a home court, Ricochet Factory is leading the way in providing the finest Badminton Wooden Flooring in Jaipur, Maple Wood Court Flooring in Jaipur, and Teak Wood Flooring in Jaipur.
In this blog, we will explore why Ricochet Factory is the go-to name in Jaipur for sports flooring solutions and how their range of premium wood options can enhance the performance and aesthetic of any indoor court.
Why Quality Flooring Matters in Badminton
Badminton is a fast-paced sport that requires players to make quick, lateral movements and execute rapid changes in direction. The floor you play on plays a pivotal role in enhancing performance and preventing injuries. A high-quality wooden floor provides the perfect combination of comfort, durability, and support, ensuring players can perform at their best without worrying about slips or joint stress.
Ricochet Factory: Leading the Way in Badminton Wooden Flooring
Ricochet Factory is renowned for offering exceptional Badminton Wooden Flooring in Jaipur that caters to both professional sports venues and personal spaces. The brand’s commitment to excellence and innovation has helped them become a trusted partner for sports facility owners, coaches, and athletes alike.
1. Superior Durability
Badminton courts need flooring that can withstand intense use and the high impact of the sport. Ricochet Factory offers high-quality wooden flooring solutions, ensuring that the court remains in top condition even after years of use. Their Badminton Wooden Flooring in Jaipur is built to last, providing long-term value for sports facilities and individual courts alike.
2. Shock Absorption for Safety
One of the most crucial features of Ricochet Factory’s flooring is its superior shock absorption properties. Maple, Teak, and other high-quality wood types naturally absorb shock, reducing the impact on players' joints. This is especially important in sports like badminton, where frequent jumps, quick footwork, and sudden pivots can strain the knees and ankles. By investing in Ricochet Factory’s wooden flooring, athletes can enjoy a safer playing surface with less risk of injury.
3. Aesthetic Appeal
In addition to being functional, the flooring provided by Ricochet Factory offers an elegant aesthetic that enhances the overall ambiance of any badminton court. The natural grains and rich tones of the wood add sophistication and class to the space, making it more visually appealing for players and spectators alike.
Exploring Ricochet Factory’s Flooring Options: Maple, Teak, and More
Ricochet Factory offers a variety of premium wooden flooring options to suit different needs and preferences. Let’s take a closer look at their top choices for sports flooring in Jaipur:
1. Maple Wood Court Flooring in Jaipur
Maple wood has long been a favorite choice for sports courts because of its durability, strength, and aesthetic appeal. Ricochet Factory’s Maple Wood Court Flooring in Jaipur is designed specifically for indoor sports, providing the ideal balance of resilience and comfort.
Long-Lasting Performance: Maple wood is dense and strong, making it ideal for high-traffic sports like badminton. It withstands heavy use without compromising on quality, ensuring a long lifespan.
Superior Grip and Traction: The wood provides an excellent grip, reducing the chances of players slipping during fast movements or sudden stops.
Shock Absorption: Maple’s natural properties help absorb shock, offering a cushioned surface for players' joints.
2. Teak Wood Flooring in Jaipur
Teak wood is another premium option Ricochet Factory offers for sports flooring. Known for its luxurious appeal and exceptional durability, Teak Wood Flooring in Jaipur adds a touch of elegance to any badminton court.
Elegance and Sophistication: Teak’s rich golden-brown color and smooth texture create a visually stunning court that adds sophistication to any facility.
Resilience to Wear and Tear: Teak is a dense and durable wood, making it resistant to abrasions and wear from frequent use.
Natural Moisture Resistance: Teak’s natural oils provide resistance to moisture, making it an ideal choice for spaces with varying humidity levels.
3. Custom Solutions for Every Space
Ricochet Factory understands that each court is unique, which is why they offer customized flooring solutions. Whether you need Badminton Wooden Flooring in Jaipur for a small home setup or Maple Wood Court Flooring in Jaipur for a professional sports complex, Ricochet Factory can tailor their solutions to fit your specific requirements. Their team works closely with clients to ensure the best possible outcome, ensuring the flooring meets both functional and aesthetic expectations.
Benefits of Choosing Ricochet Factory for Your Sports Flooring Needs
Ricochet Factory has become a trusted name in Jaipur for sports flooring, and there are several reasons why they stand out from the competition:
1. Expertise in Sports Flooring
With years of experience in the flooring industry, Ricochet Factory specializes in providing high-quality, performance-driven solutions for indoor sports courts. Their expertise ensures that every project is completed with the utmost care and precision.
2. High-Quality Materials
Ricochet Factory uses only the highest-quality materials, such as premium maple and teak wood, to ensure that their floors are durable, safe, and long-lasting. Their flooring is engineered to provide superior shock absorption, grip, and resilience, making them perfect for sports like badminton.
3. Affordable Yet Premium Solutions
While Ricochet Factory offers top-of-the-line wooden flooring, their prices remain competitive and accessible. Whether you’re setting up a personal court or an entire sports complex, you’ll find that Ricochet Factory offers excellent value for money.
4. Sustainability
Ricochet Factory takes pride in using sustainably sourced wood for their flooring solutions. The company is committed to environmental responsibility, ensuring that the materials they use have a minimal impact on the planet.
The Ricochet Factory Experience: Installing Flooring with Confidence
When you choose Ricochet Factory for your Badminton Wooden Flooring in Jaipur or Maple Wood Court Flooring in Jaipur, you’re not just investing in high-quality products—you’re also getting expert installation services. The Ricochet team ensures that your flooring is installed with precision, giving you peace of mind and a flawless finish.
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