#Wedding bands in Atlanta

[worthmorejewelers]

High Set vs. Low Set Engagement Rings: Choosing the Right One

When it comes to choosing the perfect engagement rings in Atlanta, GA, many factors come into play. While the stone's cut, size, and clarity are important, another decision you’ll face is whether to go for a high-set or low-set engagement ring.

Both styles have distinct features, and understanding their differences can help you decide which one fits your personal style and lifestyle.

Pros of High-Set Engagement Rings

High-set engagement rings are often favored for their eye-catching appeal. With a raised stone, these rings create a larger, more dramatic appearance.

The elevated setting allows more light to shine through the stone, giving it a dazzling sparkle. It makes the center stone stand out, and appear larger.

One of the key benefits of this style is the flexibility it offers when pairing with wedding bands in Atlanta, GA. The space under the stone ensures that the engagement ring sits nicely alongside a wedding band, without gaps.

However, high-set rings are more prone to snagging on clothing, which could lead to damage over time.

Pros of Low-Set Engagement Rings

Low-set engagement rings, on the other hand, are a great option for those who prioritize comfort and durability. Since the stone sits closer to the finger, there’s less chance of it getting caught on objects or causing accidental damage.

Low-set diamond rings in Atlanta, GA are less prone to wear and tear, making them a perfect choice for those with an active lifestyle.

However, low-set rings may not accommodate larger stones as easily, and wedding bands may need to be custom-designed to fit properly alongside the ring.

End Note

In the end, the choice between a high-set and low-set engagement ring comes down to personal preferences.

High-set rings are ideal for those who love a larger, sparkly appearance, while low-set rings are better suited for active individuals seeking durability and comfort.

[shopmyband]

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[angelplummie]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS! 3

ART X TASHI X PATRICK X F!READER

part 1 part 2 part 3

no smut in this one, but homoeroticism and swearing. enjoy yall!

“why are we here?”

“i told you why,” tashi took off her many bracelets into a hotel-issued jewellery box. the room was a dusky cream all over, and smelt of sandal wood. the various lamps cast sloping shells of yellowlight.

art watched, naked and tangled within the duvet.

“you told me we were seeing a physiotherapist. now we’ve come all the way here and he just cancels?”

“i can’t control these things art. he’s very popular, something just came up. think of this as a holiday. we’ll do something relaxing, fun, tomorrow. you crushed in atlanta, you deserve a rest.”

“i didn’t crush. i came second.”

tashi duncan just breathed deeply, not a sigh but something like it. an acknowledgement.

“i know. you work too hard.”

art sniffed and rested his head on the heel of his palm.

“can you just tell me why we’re here? please?”

wrists lighter, she sighed. wrapped in a silk negligé, she began removing her necklace, away from him so that they would not make eye contact but he could still watch her face. she had a defeated look. caught. but still scolding like a mothers, like she was slightly irritated he even asked.

“she’s competing in the open this year. she might win.”

“who is she?”

he asked, but he knew. you were the she. you were her, hissed in arguments, brushed under rugs. their point of contention. they didn’t speak of you, couldn’t. not after the way they got together, not after that final match and the injury.

a certain wildness came across her face whenever you came up, even peripherally, in conversation. like he had reopened a wound, pressed on a bruise that was ripening. she wore that look now, the injured bear look.

“her. if she wins this she’ll have won every major tennis competition in the us. in under 5 years. then what? fucking wimbledon? no. not on my fucking watch.”

she took off her necklace, which clattered against the vanity. she then began on her rings.

“how do you know she’ll win it?”

“i don’t know she’ll win it. but it’s really looking like she will. and she can’t.”

“why can’t she win it?” art soothed, “what would be so bad about that?”

“she can’t win it art.”

he sighed, and watched his wife as she took off their wedding band to sleep. he kept his on, but each to their own. her mouth quivered, and he knew that that was enough of questions for now. she would only get herself worked up if she thought about it more.

“we’ll talk about it in the morning, ok? come here.”

she pressed her long fingers to her temples for a moment, sighed again, and began walking to the bed.

for a moment she perched on the edge, but his pawing hand beckoned her closer. soon enough they were entangled at the legs, and he held her soft head to his chest.

she drew in a nasal breath.

“we have to stop her. make her lose.”

we. so he was a part of this now. did he think that was appropriate? no. he had left you for her, had harboured secret feelings for her your whole relationship. what he felt for you was real, but tashi was his wife. was always going to be his wife. but now, how could he, in good conscience, try and detract a modicum of happiness from you when he had taken so much in years prior? he couldn’t. he couldn’t even think about you. the thought of you being happy away from him made him so soul crushingly, unreasonably sad that he locked it away in a place no one would ever see or graze by mistake. the thought of you sad made him feel even worse. in truth, he avoided you like the plague. he followed your matches religiously to know where not to be. consumed trashy tabloids so he knew where you brunched, where you bought your sports bras, all so he could know never to be there. because he had that life he always wanted. that life he tossed two of the most important people to him away for. he had to be contented with what he had, or else he would die. and he was more than contented. he was everything he wanted. he had a wife he loved, a sky rocketing career, a future. a purpose. but there were aches of the heart, sympathies a man couldn’t shake, even if he had to.

“we have to?”

her grip around his torso tightened, and she raised her head to look at him.

“we have to.”

“what could we even do?”

“fuck with her head. get in there and throw her off. and if worse comes to worse break her knee like she broke mine.”

“don’t joke.”

“i’m not kidding art. she’s not winning. and you’re helping me.”

“tashi-“

“you’re helping me aren’t you?”

and she fixed him with the look. the look she gave when she wanted you to remember that her acl tore and that she will be able to do the thing she loved most in the world, and somehow it’s all your fault. only you can fix it. only you can take the defiance from her eyes and the downturn of her lips, and you can only do that if you go as she says. art had no choice, no choice at all.

“what do you need?”

•••

in, coincidently, the same hotel a few floors up, you shaved your pubic hair. your coach advised you against shaving close to the tournament. he recommended it for your legs, it meant you were more aerodynamic, but pubic hair made no difference. between razor burn and chaffing, it was an unnecessary distraction. but, he also didn’t sanction sweaty, time consuming, exhausting sex with a trifling man slut of an ex boyfriend that dumped you once and was ready to dump you again, so today was the day for rule breaking.

he chewed you out pretty nice when you got back to your hotel room. you insisted on showering even though your physio stayed late specifically for you, and now instead of hurrying out and apologising and being stretched into a peppy, sexy, marketable, rubber-band-legged tennis cunt, you were shaving yourself. because winning didn’t matter unless you were ready for her.

why did being shaven mean being ready? you didn’t know. but patrick’s joy at your bush had sickened you in grim retrospect, and you wanted to spite him. you would always be ready from now on. if tashi duncan was going to try and fuck you over, the least you could do was prepare to be fucked.

you were dry as can be. you hosed yourself down pretty ruthlessly to clear yourself out. evict any traces of that man from your body, scrub until you reached a layer of skin he hadn’t touched. you had one tired foot on the edge of the sink, and angled yourself so you could see everything. you would be so smooth that you could see a reflection when you were finished.

patrick had caught you off guard, had used you, but you didn’t doubt that he told you the truth about one thing. tashi was coming. she was probably already here. that would be an evil thing to makeup, and despite your outburst you didn’t truly believe he was evil. you thought he was weak, slimy and pathetic, but he wasn’t great enough to be evil. didn’t have the forethought.

what would you do when you saw her? it was early days in the tournament, you could afford to be a little distracted while you picked off the weaker ones. but you couldn’t still be this distracted in 2 days time. maybe time would take care of it. maybe you would have to take it into your own hands.

regardless of what happened, the hair had to go. you had shown patrick a soft underbelly, a vulnerability. one that neither tashi duncan or art donaldson would ever experience again. you could never give her the satisfaction.

if she brought art with her, that would give you something to think about. he, like patrick, was a stolen thing. he was the physical manifestation of all she took from you, in it’s fullest form. he was tennis. he was something you had never beaten. tashi duncan pilfered and pillaged, but worse of all she never lost to you. you never looked her in her eyes and beat her, at anything. love, sex, the game, she had never lost. worse, she had lost her ability to lose. a fate worse than death, but a fate that saved her from the shame she so rightfully deserved. while you lived on, you could defile yourself further, could fall out of grace and could become as common as dirt. she however was immortalised as a god, an angel too good, too talented for this world. she was given implicit dignity. you can’t beat her if she can’t play. the conniving bitch.

semenless, hairless and distantly heartbroken, you set the razor down on the side of the bathtub. you left to dress and be scolded by your coach, who would forgive you tommorow when you won, just like you always did. you won by default.

•••

your manager had forgiven you as soon as you picked up the racket. apparently emotional turbulence served only to help your game, as you achieved your second win of the tournament in record time. not distracted by a certain ex boyfriend at the end of this particular match, when you won you felt fully able to celebrate. sweat drenched and vagina raw you shook your fist at your chest and breathed deep, victorious sighs. your opponent smiled graciously, and disappeared to cry and fade into obscurity, as all would in the face of your brilliance.

the air smelt new. it smelt fresh and new and made for your design. the felt of the tennis balls glowed neon in your periphery and bounced gleefully with your triumph. you guzzled gatorade, answered interviewers questions with emphatically friendly responses, and certainly spawned some rumours that the performance enhancing drugs you were so clearly on had unprecedented side effects, like mood swings.

yesterday your soul was crushed. today you got a new one. let’s see tashi duncan try to fuck that up. let’s see her bring you down.

boys didn’t fucking matter, tennis mattered. and you were great at tennis.

these were all things you believed in earnest, with no trace of sarcasm or cynicism. you believed, right until the second, while walking back to your hotel with your team in front of you, lazily enjoying the world, when a deep, slender, ring laden hand touched your shoulder. you jolted up out of your skin. your head whipped round and there she was. there was satan, smiling like your number was up. stopped in your tracks, you turned your body slowly to face her. as you did more and more of her appeared, and you realised she was really there.

she was so beautiful. such a perfectly set face, everything seemed to match. the attractive broad nose, the full pillowy lips, the eyes, which smouldered on their own, naturally. hair that fell in long stretched curls just as it had all those years ago. she hadn’t changed, at least not visually.

you gave her a once over. that fucking body. god, you wouldn’t know she had stopped playing, you wouldn’t know she could be unable to do anything at all. she was so slender, but so strong, muscle caking her bones in delicate, powerful form. she looked invincible, perfect and impermeable. her loose linen shirt hugged and hung from her frame like a fashion doll, like a mannequin of steel. she was taller than you, by a few inches, and made you feel small, in a way so much more infuriating than patrick. she wasn’t suppose to be bigger than you. she wasn’t a lumbering brute, she was your equal. she was your equal.

from the corner of your eye, you noticed something sparkle on her finger, but you had already looked back to her face.

“tashi,” you said, in a tinny voice that didn’t sound like yours. your throat dried within moments.

“hello stranger,” she said, still grinning.

stranger. funny, that’s exactly what you were. she said it like an inside joke, like you two were the closest of friends. you were strangers.

“hello.”

“congrats on your win.”

“thanks.”

you sniffed, and wet your lips. you weren’t going to break eye contact, she certainly wasn’t going to, so you were locked in silent warfare. what the fuck do you want? you urged every second. wait and see, she replied.

“so,” you say, forming the intentions of a smile on your lips,”what brings you to new york? i hear only a few days ago art was in atlanta.”

“we came up to see a physio guy, he’s supposed to be great. great enough that he cancels last minute.”

“hm. ain’t that just the way!”

you smile, with your eyes too, like you mean it. she smiles too, but she’s awful at being fake. she grimaced more than she smiled, she was always devoid of delicacy, of subtly. everything she was she was overtly. overtly beautiful, overtly talented, and confident. overtly ruthless. why she felt the need to smile if that’s not how she felt was beyond you, but you could play along.

“what hotel are you staying at?”

“the boro. you?”

“us too! why don’t you have a drink with me and art at the bar? it would be good to catch up.”

me and art. you narrow your eyes, deepening your smile to disguise it. she was being so normal, it was strange. what game was she playing? was it something you could win? either way you were in.

“sure! i need to check in with my coach and what not first but ill meet you there at 7, is that ok?”

“7 is great. can’t wait,” her voice was mechanical, it couldn’t be more blatant this was a ploy, and you would fall for it hook line and sinker. she came here to fuck you up? you would destroy her, the second she gave an inch. you already had a massive secret. she fucked patrick. five seconds around art and her life crumbles around her.

you smirked, nodding, and a dark look befell her eyes.

“oh, and just to let you know,” she said, voice lowering. she stepped closer, leaned down to whisper in your ear. the smell of vanilla over powered you, and suddenly you felt very gross, putrid in comparison. but you didn’t have to compare yourself to her anymore.

“i saw patrick zweig in the crowd today. i know you guys had a thing back in college. thought i’d give you a heads up,” her soft whisper tickled your ear. you shivered.

“oh, god,” you said,”thanks for telling me. what the fuck is he doing here?”

“I have no idea.”

“what a freak.”

there were several options of why she told you that, and how she might know.

maybe she really did see him in the crowd. you hadn’t seen him, but you hadn’t seen her either. maybe she didn’t see him, but knew he was coming into town, maybe he told her. maybe she got him to come here and warn you. why? to cut you out of the competition early maybe, start the psychological warfare before her feet even touched new york concrete. it hadn’t worked, and that’s why she had been forced to make a face to face appearance. maybe that was it. maybe it was a grand conspiracy in which all parties were mechanised to get you. you would not be got. no way no how.

your paranoia brought the conversation to a screeching halt as your smile became more and more vacant.

“you look good,” she said after a stretch of silence.

“thank you. so do you. you haven’t changed at all.”

“neither have you.”

“well, i think i’ve changed a bit.”

“nah, you’re the same.”

no. you’re different. but how would she know anyway? you wave goodbye as she saunters off, away to a blonde man that she kisses lightly on the cheek. you don’t take in anything more than that because you turn around immediately, and stalk to where your coach is smoking a cigarette by a coffee truck. fuck that bitch. you were going to gut her alive and use her intestines as a skipping rope. art would not extend his neck to receive a kiss when you were through with them. fucking drink at a fucking bar. who did she think she was?

fuck that bitch, tashi thought. you were right, you had changed. your backhand was perfect. impeccable serve. you were deadly. you were harder now too. you didn’t scowl but there was a coldness about the eyes, a disconnect from face and mind. you were fake as plastic, and just as shiny. you had beefed up, gotten more tight and muscular. maybe tight was the word. tight about the eyes. what were you? you were another creature all together. a beast, an amalgamation of all tashi’s hopes and dreams and all her worst nightmares.

she swayed over to art, knowing you would watch at least for a moment as they smiled at each other and took each other’s forearms tenderly, and she kissed the side of his mouth. his hair had been cut only a few days ago, and she told him to wear that white cotton t-shirt out and about. he said it was too casual for such a high level tennis match, she said she knew that. he looked very fucking good. she looked very fucking good, as she always did. she had set the trap, now it was time to get you in it, trapped, and to bash your head in with a rock.

she and art watched from the corner of their eyes as they kissed and you sauntered away, refusing to look back. your skirt swished with the aggravated sway of your hips. you swung a metal water bottle with the rhythm of your steps, like you were trying to hurt the air. you were pissed off. art could tell, and his stomach churned. this was wrong. it was mean, and they were adults now. married adults, who should be satisfied enough in their lives that they don’t need to plan or scheme. but. here they were. and there he was, embroiled and accomplice to a mean spirited scheme. anything to dry tashis eyes. anything to make up for the fact you were tennis cunt extraordinaire and she was arts coach. a fantastic coach, but a coach all the same. he could hurt you if that’s what tashi needed. he didn’t want to, but he could.

she didn’t know if she could, if it was possible rather, but she wanted to. no, she knew she could. she would. you could flick the skirt adidas paid you to wear and walk with a sexy sway and you could guzzle complementary gatorade but she knew what you were and that you were bellow her. you were her subordinate and if she couldn’t make the world see it she would make it clear to you.

your feet hit tarmac harder than they needed to as you found your coach, who clapped a hand to your back and sung your well deserved praises. breaking news, tennis cunt is good at tennis. alert the media, alert the national guard, alert nasa. this is earth shattering stuff. fuck everyone, but fuck tashi in particular. fuck that bitch. and fuck art. fuck him. fuck him.

and yet, only a few hours later you were pulling your hair out trying to put together a cohesive outfit that said i’m not trying to impress you but i’m very impressive. i’m very accomplished and polished and if i was you and i had thrown me away i would kill myself for the shame and regret. tashi duncan is nothing.

but it was hard to find an outfit so articulate. not too dressy, but not overly casual as to downplay yourself, to suggest you think dressing nicely is above what you deserve. a dress. a black dress said sex but it was also classic, simple. a black dress meant nothing, and therefore meant everything. your body itself provided the glamour, your form a kind of jewellery. yeah. that was it. eat your heart out, donaldson.

you sit at the bar, perched with your smooth legs crossed over each other. you sipped a coke, that might’ve been a rum and coke on a different night, but you needed to keep your wits about you. you remember getting drunk one night with art, swaying around his house. his parents were away and he invited you back over spring break. his house was so big. you remember kissing him, so wasted. he wasn’t as drunk as you. he held your waist, and smiled and said,”let’s get you into bed.”

“but art. you’re so pretty.”

“and you’re so drunk. i’ll still be pretty tomorrow.”

art didn’t do drunk. i don’t know. something to keep in mind.

they walked in, looked around and smiled when they saw you. neither of them had changed despite having hours. fucking cunts.

“i see you didn’t wait for us,” tashi smiles.

“oh, sorry.”

they sit, tashi next to you, art in tow. what was arts role in all this? you knew why you wanted him here, to destroy his marriage of course. but why did tashi want him here? what purpose did he serve for her? he just sort of looked around. you watch him as they settle. art. oh art. you felt something in your chest, and hated it. art. he was just that guy, you know. the guy that you can say you hate, but you just can’t. you want to so badly, but being in his presence for even a few seconds has you crumbling. the shape of his nose, the bob of his adam’s apple, the golden dusting of hair on his arm that glints in the boozy light of the bar. he was so… guy. so man. so beautiful. he beats his blonde eyelashes and turns to look at you, smiling with only one corner of his mouth. you smile back, unconsciously genuine. fuck him. what a prick.

you look back to tashi, who watches you bemusedly. half smirking half frowning. her deep eyes glow like ambers. she tossed a strand of hair from her face, orders her and art two sparkling waters as she eyed your coke.

“so,” you say, to divert your train of thoughts more than anything,”how’s life been?”

“let’s drop the pleasantries shall we?”

the smile that had spooked you all day dropped, lips instead set in a line

“we aren’t actually here to catch up.”

“oh. ok.”

that was brief. you understood why she was so quick to give up the falsehoods though, tashi duncan didn’t deal in lies. she dealt in hard cold truth.

“i’m here for one thing. i want you to play art.”

you frown with one eyebrow, and your upper lip curls into a look of disgust.

“what?”

you glance at art, who doesn’t look surprised in the slightest. he looks mournful almost. what a freak. tashi’s face is sullen, serious as the plague.

“you heard me. i want you and art to play each other. art wants to too.”

art didn’t look at you. nodded though.

“and i wanna do it tonight.”

you spluttered a laugh, hands gripping the bar.

“tonight?”

this bitch had lost her mind. you have a tournament, an important one at that, and for her to assert that you should jeopardise that, overexert yourself for the sake of what? assuaging a personal grudge? making her feel better because a significantly larger man beat a woman at a game that tashi hadn’t played in five entire years? what crack was she smoking that made that an acceptable ask? did her arrogance know no bounds?

“i have a match tomorrow.”

“yeah, no fucking shit. that’s why there’s stakes.”

stakes. what the fuck. you almost wanted to laugh. but this bitch was giving you a proposal, a fucking pitch. for what? what could she possibly have to offer you other than sucking on a shot gun and pissing off forever?

“do you have any fucking idea how ridiculous this is? after everything you did to me, you think you have any right to saunter up to me and ask me to waste my time and my energy, the night before a fucking match? you and your fucking husband can fuck off.”

“after everything i did to you? what the hell did i do to you? you broke my fucking knee.”

your confused look fell into seething blankness.

“you didn’t break your knee you tore your ACL. and you broke it yourself.”

“that’s fine, that’s fine. you tell yourself that, but know the only reason you have this fucking career is because i wasn’t there to beat you down and put you in your place.”

“jesus fucking christ, i would’ve beaten you that match and you know it.”

“i don’t know a goddamn thing-“

“and where do you get off pretending like you never did shit to me? you took everything from me tashi. you took everything and now you travel across the country and stumble up to me to make yourself feel better because i can play and you can’t. you want me to try and beat a fucking man? fine. i’m game. i’m in, let’s do it. i would hate to waste your precious time. let’s hear the fucking stakes.”

the gloves were off. both of your backs had straightened like hackles on a cat and your nostrils flared and your chests rose and fell and neither of you broke eye contact for even one second. you hadn’t realised but you had gotten closer, so close that your minty fresh breath fanned tashi’s upper lip, and pieces of tashi’s hair tickled your cheekbone. this was fucking intoxicating. being this close to the woman you had hated for so long, getting the confirmation that she hates you just as passionately, knowing you matter enough to her that she needs to destroy you, it all fills you with the most exhilarating feeling. you want more. her deep eyes glowed with fury. fuck.

art sits hunched over the bar, removed. he drank his drink, slowly facing away. he almost looks bored, or he would if his eyes didn’t flit about all the time. no, art was anxious. he disapproved of whatever tashi planned, but he loved her too much to tell her no. the thought stings you, spitting in the face of your satisfaction. art. he would always make you hurt no matter what.

“here’s the stakes. you lose, i leave knowing that i was always better than you, and you give me $4000, for my troubles. you win, you get to fuck art in front of me.”

he didn’t flinch. he knew. you’re pulled back by an otherworldly force, stone cold sober. your neck twists back and forth, scanning the bar for anyone to help you, save you, give you a moment to chew on whatever that was. no one was gonna help you. even art, who sat and drank his sparkling water, wouldn’t meet your eye.

“what?”

she didn’t reply, just leant back, arms crossed, satisfied. was she honestly, seriously, really, actually whoring out her husband so that you, a girl she barely knew from college, would play him at tennis so she could prove a point? was she that confident he would beat you? or was she a pervert as well as a cunt?

“are you that confident you’ll win? or do you think i’m that desperate? believe it or not, i’ve actually moved on from a man i saw briefly 5 entire years ago.”

a tiny white lie never hurt anyone.

tashi widened her eyes. a silent challenge.

“are you sure? are you sure it wouldn’t feel good to fuck my husband right in front of me? take something from me? hurt me? give me a taste of my own fucking medicine? if i’m such a bitch, if i took everything from you, take something back. beat me at tennis and fuck my husband.”

this bitch was fucking crazy. and yes, it would feel fucking incredible. but you would also have to touch art again. which would dredge up emotions you didn’t know if you could stomach. eugh. no. couldn’t. wouldn’t. won’t.

“i’ll play you. no stakes.”

“no,” art looked at you in the eyes for the first time since that day, that match that ended you two forever. his voice was cold and hoarse. your eyebrow raises involuntarily. look everyone, the puppet can speak on its own!

“agree to the stakes or don’t bother.”

you laugh airily, you search arts face for reprehension. there’s just nothing. you were wrong about him, he didn’t disapprove that strongly. where did he get off in this? did he like being used as a bargaining chip in his evil wife’s evil schemes? was he completely eroded from who he used to be? did you ever even know him? he tongued the inside of his cheek. his mouth curved at the edge. he smiled slightly like he knew you, like this was a game you were all in on. like any of this is funny.

“no. i’ll play you, and i’ll even cough up the money if i lost. but i’m not fucking anyone. end of story.”

tashi leans forward. her eyes twinkle yellow in the soft glow of the bar. her mouth opens with unspoken hunger.

“then lose.”

[kendyzzlewp]

Creatures in Heaven||ART DONALDSON

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you run into your old college sweetheart, art, in a hotel bar. old wounds resurface as you tried to make sense of it all.

tags: college sweethearts, angst, non graphic smut?, reconnecting, pain, sad!art, divorced!reader, tears

“I don’t think I realize just how much I miss you sometimes. We were young and so in love. We were just creatures in heaven.”

You’ve always loved hotel bars.

The dimly lit space, the chatter of the guests around you, the overpriced drinks. Sitting down on a stool at the hotel you frequent after a particularly hard day at work, you can’t help but let your mind drift off. The TV above you plays a recap of the latest tennis match. Your old friend shows up on the screen, brown head stuck to his forehead, a huge goofy victorious smile on his face.

You quickly pull up your phone, sending a congratulatory text to Patrick. Making plans to meet before he leaves town.

A glass of wine gets placed in front of you, the maroon liquid swirling slightly.

“Y/N?”

You could recognize that voice anywhere. Turning slightly in your stool, your eyes met surprised blue ones. The pounding of your heart could be heard from miles away. He looked older, fitter. His blonde hair was now shorter, a stark difference to his Stanford days.

“Art,” you whispered, placing your drink down with trembling hands. “Wow, it’s been so long.”

As your gaze meets Art's, memories flood back, and you're reminded of the countless conversations and shared moments in your college dorm. You could lie and say you haven’t been following his career but you weren’t kidding anyone but yourself. You watched every tournament, every match, cheered silently from your apartment as took the tennis world by storm.

As he sits down beside you, you can't help but feel a rush of emotions—nostalgia mixed with a tinge of sadness. The memories of your last encounter weigh heavily on your mind, the pain and heartache still fresh despite the passing years.

"I can't believe it's really you," Art says, breaking the silence. "I've thought about you so often, wondered how you were doing. You look great.”

You look into his eyes, seeing a mix of emotions mirrored back at you. There's regret, longing, and a hint of hope.

"I've thought about you too," you admit, a sad smile playing on your lips. "I watched your matches, saw your rise to the top. I'm so proud of you, Art.

"Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me." Art's expression softens, a bittersweet smile crossing his face. “Wouldn’t be where I am without your support.”

The air between you is heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You both know there's much to discuss, but the weight of the past sits between you like a barrier.

“How’s Tashi?”

You had to ask. Patrick talked about them all the time. Even drunkenly confessing he had slept with Tashi in Atlanta when they bumped into each other for a tournament. You wonder if Art knew, you wonder if he hurt the way he hurt you.

“She’s Tashi,” he whispers, motioning the bartender for a drink. “Same as always.”

Art's response is cryptic, and you can sense the tension in his voice. You remember the pain of hearing about his relationship with Tashi, and it stirs up a mix of emotions within you.

"I heard about your marriage," you say softly, searching his eyes for any reaction. "I hope she makes you happy."

Art looks down at his drink, swirling the liquid around in his glass. His silver wedding band caught the bar’s overhead yellow light.

"It's complicated. Things are... not what they seem."

You nod silently, understanding how complicated a marriage like that could be. You think about your own failed relationship, how it was necessary for you to let your husband go because he couldn’t compare. He could never compare to the man sitting next to you.

“Are you married?” He asked, taking a sip of his whisky.

You hesitate for a moment, the weight of Art's question sinking in. It's a question that holds so much significance, one that forces you to confront your own feelings and past decisions.

"Divorced," you reply softly, meeting his gaze steadily.

There's a flicker of something in Art's eyes, a mix of surprise and curiosity. You wonder if he can sense the unspoken truth behind your words, the lingering emotions that still tie you to him despite the passage of time.

"I've had my share of relationships," you continue, your eyes fixed on the drink in front of you. "But they just… didn’t compare."

Art's gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you're feeling. The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the dimly lit space of the hotel bar.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I'm glad you're here now."

You feel a rush of emotions at his words, the familiar warmth of his presence washing over you like a comforting embrace. Despite the years apart and the pain of the past, there's still a connection between you that refuses to fade. You were only really yourself around Art. The rest just got this fucked up, fake version of you.

“I heard you have a daughter,” you said, changing the subject. “How is she?”

A pang of sadness hits you as you see the light in his eyes at the mention of his daughter. You wished you were the one to give him a child, just like you planned together all those years ago. Laid up together in your small dorm bed, hand intertwined, whispering promises and dreams at three in the morning.

“Lily,” Art's expression softens even more at the mention of his daughter, a warm smile spreading across his face. "She's the light of my life."

You can't help but smile at the genuine love and pride in his voice. Despite the complexities of his marriage and the challenges he may face, it's clear that his daughter brings him immense joy and fulfillment.

"I'm so glad to hear that," you say sincerely, feeling a bittersweet tug at your heartstrings. "She's lucky to have a father like you."

Art's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels as though the weight of the past and the uncertainties of the future fade away, leaving only the warmth of the connection between you.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

As you continue to talk about Lily, you can't help but feel a sense of warmth and nostalgia enveloping you. Despite the complexities of your past and the uncertainties of the future, there's a comfort in the shared memories and the genuine connection between you and Art.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself opening up more than you ever expected, sharing stories and laughter in the dimly lit space of the hotel bar. It's as if the years apart have melted away, leaving only the familiar ease and familiarity of your college days.

You look down at your phone, eyes widening at the time. “Wow,” you exclaimed. “It’s three am.”

Art chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Time really flies when you're lost in conversation, doesn't it?"

You nod, feeling a mixture of surprise and contentment at how quickly the hours have passed. Despite the late hour, you find yourself reluctant to leave the comfort of Art's company and the warm ambiance of the hotel bar.

"It's been so wonderful catching up with you," you say, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "I've missed this."

Art's smile mirrors yours, his expression filled with warmth and sincerity. "Me too, Y/N. It's been far too long."

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected reunion and the chance to reconnect with Art after so many years apart. Despite the complexities of your past and the uncertainties of the future, you know that this moment will always hold a special place in your heart.

As you bid Art farewell and step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of renewal and hope stirring within you. You start walking down the street, your heart bleeding from reopening old wounds you swore to never touch again.

“Wait!”

You turn around to see Art jogging to catch up to you. He slows down as he approaches you, panting slightly.

“Is everything okay?" you ask, a hint of concern in your voice.

Art looks at you, tears pooling in his eyes. "I know it’s too late, but I just don’t think you realize just how much I miss you sometimes.”

His voice trembles, and you can see the raw emotion in his eyes. He steps closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out to take your hand.

“Y/N, it’s been almost ten years, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about you. I miss the way you laugh, the way you’d stay up with me all night just to help me study, the way you believed in me when no one else did. I miss us.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his heartfelt confession. His words hit you with the force of all the years you’ve spent apart, all the moments you’ve both lived without each other.

“Art…” you begin, but he shakes his head, needing to say more.

“I thought marrying Tashi was the right thing to do, but it never felt right because she wasn’t you. Every achievement, every milestone—it felt hollow because you weren’t there to share it with me. I’ve tried to move on, to live my life, but no one ever came close to making me feel the way you did. I still love you, Y/N. I never stopped. And seeing you tonight, it’s like all those feelings just came rushing back.”

You’re overwhelmed, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to process his words. You feel a mix of hope, fear, and an undeniable longing.

“Art,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks. “We can’t.”

He takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “I don’t know what the future holds, and I know we both have a lot of shit to deal with, but I can’t let you walk away again. I refuse.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation in his gaze. Despite the years apart and the complications of your pasts, the connection between you is undeniable.

“I don’t know what the future holds either,” you admit, your voice shaking. “But I do know that I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Without another word, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours, the taste of whiskey and longing lingering in the air. In that fleeting moment, everything else fades away—the pain of the past, the uncertainties of the future—leaving only the warmth of the connection between you and Art.

You both pull back, foreheads pressed together, heavy panting as you both try to catch your breath. Your heartbeat resonating in your ears as you find his hand, interlocking your fingers.

“Take me home?” You asked, silently hoping he understood the underlying tone of your invitation.

Art nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I'd love to."

Together, you walk through the quiet streets, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. The world feels hushed and intimate, as if it's just the two of you in your own little bubble of time.

As you reach your apartment building, you turn to face Art, your heart pounding in your chest. The moment feels charged with emotion, a mix of longing and uncertainty swirling between you.

"Do you want to come in?," you say softly, searching his eyes for any hint of what he's feeling. "I think I have some wine…”

He leans in and kisses you again, his lips soft and warm against yours. In that moment, all doubts and fears melt away, leaving only the certainty of your feelings for each other. You opened the door to your apartment, still locked in the passionate kiss.

Art kicks the door closed, walking you further into the room. His hands getting reacquainted with your body, muscle memory kicking in as he lifts you.

“That way,” you mumble against his lips, motioning to a door in the back.

With a soft chuckle, Art carries you towards the direction you indicated, his lips never leaving yours. The heat of the moment ignites a fire within you both as you stumble towards the bedroom.

You want to savor each moment. You need to remember it in case it’s the last time. There’s no rush as your hands lift his shirt over his head, his pale skin glowing with the moonlight that streams from your window. You press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder, feeling goosebumps appear on his skin.

Art does the same, tenderly lifting your dress over your head. His fingers tracing stroking every inch of your skin as he lays you down on your bed.

The room is filled with the sound of your breath mingling with the soft hum of the city outside. In this intimate space, you find solace and connection in each other's arms, lost in a whirlwind of passion and longing.

As the night stretches on, you lose yourself in each other, exploring every inch of each other's bodies as if trying to memorize every detail. Time seems to stand still as you become lost in the moment, consumed by the intensity of your shared desire.

—

Hours later, as the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, you find yourselves tangled together in the sheets, your bodies still humming with the echoes of your passion. Clothes strewn around the floor of your bedroom. With a contented sigh, you bury your face in Art's chest, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment wash over you.

As you lie there in the quiet stillness of the morning, you realize that this is where you belong—wrapped in Art's arms. He holds you as if you were made just for him, so tightly and close. Trying to bound the pieces of you he broke, together.

And as you drift off to sleep, you know that no matter what the future may hold, you will always belong to Art Donaldson.

[bleedingcoffee42]

Part One- Currahee

Band of Brother's rewatch and the things I'd have like to have seen even though there was a lot in the episode, a lot to cover, and a story to tell but this is just a wishlist and really a "Boy I hope we get all the cutscenes some day in an extended cut like LOTR" so....feel free to add any cool history bits. I understand stuff doesn't fit with the end product, I just want it.

The March to Atlanta. Besides the record breaking march, there are some little things like David Lowrey picking up the stray dog Draftee and carrying in his pack because he wore his nails off marching with them? Sherman Irish who was Sobol's favorite and the guy everyone loved who volunteered to drive Sobol's car to Benning for him. Then told him it broke down and got money to fix the transmission, only to never show up because he sold all of Sobol's stuff including the wheels off the car.

Burr Smith, Forrest Guth. I just want them in this show.

Al Mampre too. Not only for being involved in putting boots on a bobcat but for being the guy who, with Spina, at Camp Mackall gave Sobol a fake appendectomy.

The guys smuggling bobcats, dogs and a Red Cross nurse ON JUMPS?

Popeye collecting money for Shifty so he could go home on a 3 day pass. This guy got no time.

Buck Taylor going AWOL at Benning to see a girl because passes were revoked. Lipton sneaking out too because he had plans to see his wife.

Ed Tipper getting into his billet in England and hearing Lord Haw Haw who was like Axis Sally broadcasting to demoralize allies and greeted them with "To the 101st Airborne, Welcome to England" even though they had to cut off their patches to arrive in secret. Just would have been a neat overlay of "We've been watching you" before the big jump, even though that wasn't the tone they were going for. Still would have been cool background noise.

Speirs racing Reed on Currahee and Reed just breezing it and Speirs wheezing and dying because he had to try to keep up

More Meehan. Make us miss him. Kick us in the gut when Guth walks by his crashed plane next episode. (In this extended cut where he has a role.)

Winters breaking that guy's back while wrestling. THEN give us Buck.

THE KNIFE. Like this just needs to be a few seconds of Nix giving him the Knife and us seeing the engraving of L.N to D.W. <3 .

Buck and Moose ending up in Speirs wedding party?

Photographers. Whoever kept taking pictures of Winters barely wearing clothes and Lipton laying in he grass like a model. Whoever took that file of photos Dick trades Lugers for. Bonus if they are on the yearbook committee that made the Currahee Scrapbook.

Speirs vs. Billy Turner, Fierce Valor makes it sound like the second civil war. Turner kicked him from C to D company and Speirs was not shy about telling everyone he wanted to kill him.

To be continued....

[kabillieu]

When we were in Atlanta last weekend, we found ourselves in a Gorjana jewelery store. I’ve bought Gorjana jewelry for years, since before they had any in-person stores at all. They used to have these ridiculous semi-annual sales where their jewelry would go 50-75% off, but they haven’t done that in a long time, since establishing themselves as an expanding national jewelry chain. I don’t buy from them very much anymore because I’ve been trying to buy mostly fine jewelry instead of demi-fine, even though it is difficult for me to justify the price. But I’ve found that while vermeil works great for earrings and bracelets, it’s not good for rings and necklaces because the gold finish wears off so quickly.

But Gorjana came out with a fine jewelry line a while back, so I took a look at it while we were in the store, and then it occurred to me that it might be special to buy a slender little ring for my left hand ring finger. I have two beautiful diamond wedding rings, and both (BOTH!) irritate my finger if I wear them all the time. But I wear a variety of these kinds of slender little gold rings (from Catbird and Mejuri) on my other fingers all the time and they don’t bother me. And I dislike not wearing a ring on my ring finger. So I bought one for myself. Or at least technically Dominic bought it because I had gotten mugged the night before. It has the teeniest little diamonds on it. Very cute! And now I can wear my big flashy diamond eternity band when I want to be fancy and wear this little gal the rest of the time.

[diceriadelluntore]

Storia Di Musica #342 - The Corrs, Home, 2005

Le Storie musicali di band di fratelli e sorelle ci portano in Irlanda, per una band che tra fine anni '90 e inizi 2000 fu molto popolare. The Corrs, come suggerisce il nome, sono una band di tre sorelle e un fratello, i Corr appunto. La loro storia è molto particolare e si lega a quella di un film del 1991, divenuto di culto, ambientato a Dublino, da dove provengono i nostri. The Commitments, diretto da Alan Parker, racconta la storia di Jimmy Rabbitte e del suo tentativo di mettere su una band di soul e rhythm'n'blues a Dublino, The Commitments, appunto. Il film, che è anche uno spaccato dell'isola prima della travolgente trasformazione avvenuta negli ultimi decenni, fu trampolino di lancio di una serie di attori\cantanti che dopo il film si lanciarono in carriere musicali. E tra loro c'erano i fratelli Corr. Jim Corr suonava in una band con John Hughes, che curava per Parker le selezioni dei musicisti. Hughes non sapeva che Jim avesse tre sorelle musiciste, Caroline, Sharon e Andrea, con cui si presenta i provini. Andrea ottiene una parte di recitazione con battute (è Sharon, la sorella minore di Jimmy), gli altri tre fanno da comparse, ma Hughes dopo le riprese chiede di poter diventare il loro manager. Diventano una band, dove suonano diversi strumenti, anche quelli tradizionali irlandesi. Il primo grande trampolino di lancio è l'esibizione, nel 1994, per i Mondiali di Calcio di USA 94, seguita due anni dopo per la cerimonia d'Apertuna dei Giochi Olimpici di Atlanta '96. Vanno in tour a supporto di Celine Dion, mentre il loro primo disco, Forgiven, Not Forgotten, che comprende sia brani strumentali di musica tradizionali che canzoni pop rock, svetta nelle classifiche di mezzo mondo, diventando uno dei dischi d'esordio di artisti irlandesi più di successo di ogni tempo. Nel 1997 successo per Talk On Corners, partecipano al Pavarotti And Friends a Modena e ricevono nel 1999 un Brit Award come Miglior Band Internazionale, registrando persino un MTV Unplugged, che vende milioni di copie. Il successivo disco, In Blue, prodotto da Robert John "Mutt" Lange, li consacra star internazionali: il singolo Breathless va in classifica in mezzo mondo, come Radio, l'album è il terzo disco con le maggiori vendita della Storia delle Classifiche musicali d'Irlanda dopo il The Best Of 1980-1990 degli U2 e Be Nere Now degli Oasis. Sono nominati ai Grammy Awards. Registrano un altro disco dal vivo, VH1 Presents: The Coors Live In Dublin, con ospiti Bono che duetta con loro in When The Stars Go Blue di Bryan Adams (un gioiellino) e Summer Wine di Nancy Sinatra e Ronnie Wood dei Rolling Stones che suona la chitarra in Little Wing, cover del classico di Jimi Hendrix e in Ruby Tuesday. Succede però una fatto doloroso: Jean, la madre dei fratelli Corr, muore in attesa di un trapianto di fegato all'ospedale di Newcastle, in Gran Bretagna.

E proprio alla madre, e alla loro terra, è dedicato questo disco, Home, che esce nel 2005. L'album precedente, Borrowed Heaven, già aveva riaperto la strada del folk nella loro musica, che nei dischi di successo internazionale si era un po' persa, ma in questo disco si ritorna alle origini. In scaletta 12 pezzi, divisi tra strumentali tradizionali di musica celtica irlandese, come Haste To The Wedding, che è il brano principe del ballo Céilí, uno scritto da Sharon Corr, Old Hag e due cantati in lingua gaelica dalla bellissima voce di Andrea, Buachaill ón Éirne (che vuol dire Ragazzo di Erne) e Bríd Óg Ní Mháille, Bridget O'Malley, che probabilmente è una riedizione ottocentesca di un antico canto dedicato a santa Brigida d'Irlanda. Ancora più emozionate è la parte di canti tradizionali cantati in inglese: My Lagan Love è uno dei primi traditional scoperti da Joseph Campbell, che agli inizi del 1900 intraprese un percorso di ricerca e traduzione dei canti tradizionali, musicati e riportati sugli spartiti da Herbert Hughes; la meravigliosa Spancil Hill è invece un traditional, probabilmente scozzese, che venne riadattato dai migranti irlandesi in America, dove divenne molto famosa nella zona dei Monti Appalachi: lo spancil era un modo di legare le zampe dei capi di bestiame per non farli scappare durante le fiere. Dolcissime sono Peggy Gordon e la bellissima Black Is the Color, conosciuta anche come Black Is the Color Of My True Love's Hair, brani che raccontano il carattere forte e deciso delle donne di quei posti. The Moorlough Shore è una delle più famose ballate irlandesi: è la storia di un giovane, innamorato della sua terra e di una ragazza, che però rifiuta le sue avances perché ama già un marinaio. Aspetterà il suo vero amore per sette anni. Frustrato, il ragazzo lascia la casa della sua infanzia e salpa, continuando a elogiare la ragazza che ama e che vive a Moorlough Shore. Sulla sua melodia, durante gli anni della Rivoluzione dell'Indipendenza irlandese (negli anni Dieci del 1900) i rivoluzionari cantarono The Foggy Dew, il principe dei brani di libertà irlandese. Completano la scaletta tre cover di brani moderni: Heart Like A Wheel, successo di Kate & Anna McGarrigle, poi ripreso da tanti artisti (la versione più famosa di Linda Ronstand), Old Town del leader dei Thin Lizzy Phil Lynott e un brano, Dimming Of The Day, scritto da Richard e Linda Thompson per un loro disco del 1975, Pour Down Like Silver. La musica è arrangiata con delicatezza, agli strumenti moderni sono affiancati i tin whistle, il Bodhrán (che è il tamburello irlandese) e una sezioni archi, che è sempre stato un marchio di fabbrica della musica Corrs. Spicca la voce, brillante e squillante di Andrea Corr, emozionante in più di un passaggio. Il disco, che non è di successo come i precedenti, ha comunque successo in patria, In Australia e sorprendentemente in Francia, dove vende 100 mila copie.

Andrea Corr, che ha recitato anche in altri film, tra cui Evita con Madonna e da protagonista una semisconosciuta commedia canadese, The Boys From County Clare, tenterà, con scarso successo, anche la carriera solista, con Ten Feet High. I Corrs continuano a suonare e a pubblicare materiale (l'ultimo disco del 2017) ma non hanno più raggiunto il successo dei dischi pop, nè la delicatezza, e la bellezza, del disco di oggi, un bellissimo esempio di variazioni "moderne" ai classici tradizionali della cultura delle isole britanniche, un grande tesoro culturale.

[daggerzine]

Laetitia Sadier- Rooting For Love (Drag City)

The album begins with “Who + What,” an eerie, moody keyboard-driven melody that builds with layers and layers of instruments and vocals. “I need to I want to I have to; Need to expand, want to expand; Embrace my Goddess; Escape the fortress; The walls are falling down, cultures are communing; Muses are converging; On the verge.” Track 2, ”Proteiformunite,” is the first of many French songs on this album. This time the bass gets the spotlight. Laetitia’s soft vocals take the listener away to another world. And then the band kicks in with a full-out jam! Next up, “Une Autre Attente," is another French track. Eerie keyboards and robotic piano are highlighted here, but the beautiful vocals truly add to this one. Check out the video:

Track 4, “The Dash,” is a soft, gentle, jazzy number complete with “Ba dee dup, Ba dee dup” Bossa Nova vocals. “Through the center; The discreet shine of your darkness; Eyes of children the heart of another; Things we fear are false; A current life; The place inside; Into the night slowly; Swells vitality.” Next, “Don’t Forget You’re Mine” has a stripped-down beginning, but eventually the music soars and swells with beats and strings. “Hey, don't scream with rage it’s vain. I’m not impressed, just exasperated again. A good slap is what you need; a good slap is what you want; take that take that, get up get up babe.” Track 6, “Panser L’inacceptable,” is another beauty of a song. It has a tropical feel to it. Love the horns here. Here’s the video:

Track 7, “The Inner Smile,” is possibly my favorite track with shifting flutes and a major jam near the end. It’s the most upbeat song on the album. “Smile at all parts of your being. Smile at the parts you’re aware of and those you’re not. Smile, smile and thank your whole body.” Next up, “La Nageuse Nue,” is a French-titled song with English lyrics this time. Laetitia gets deep with her poetry. “The dissolution beliefs; The singular world; Volunteers the ego. Social body, For a cleansing and healing, Experience. Which may turn the personality inside and out; Discloses the gold hidden within the heart.” Track 9,“ New Moon,” develops into a hypnotic blast of ambient sound. It actually came out way back in 2021. It’s one of those songs you just don’t want to end. A beautiful video directed by Laetitia and Tanya Small captures the song here:

   The album closes with “Cloud 6,” a repetitive outer space choral vocal exercise complete with blasting horns. “You have a power I haven't got. I have a power you don’t have. We need all the power we can get. Our psyches, well-being, brutalised, The world renounces its liberty because it is in fear. Because it is in fear, because it is in fear.” More deep thoughts from Laetitia as we would expect. Another great one from Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier from start to finish.  Make sure to check the tour schedule beginning in March to see if she’ll be hitting your part of the world. ERIC EGGLESON

Sat. March 2- San Francisco CA @ The Chapel

Mon. March 4- Portland OR @ Polaris Hall

Tue. March 5- Seattle WA @ Barboza

Wed. March 6- Vancouver BC @ Fox Cabaret

Fri. March 8- Salt Lake City UT @ Kilby Court

Sat. March 9- Denver CO @ Lost Lake

Mon. March 11- Minneapolis MN @ Turf Club

Tue. March 12- Chicago IL @ Empty Bottle

Wed. March 13- Detroit MI @ Third Man

Fri. March 15- Toronto ON @ Garrison

Sat. March 16- Montreal QC @ Bar Le Ritz

Wed. March 20- Brooklyn NY @ National Sawdust

Thu. March 21- Boston MA @ Arts at the Armory

Fri. March 22- Philadelphia PA @ Johnny Brenda's

Sat. March 23- Washington DC @ Songbyrd

Mon. March 25- Atlanta GA @ EARL

Tue. March 26- Nashville TN @ Blue Room

Thu. March 28- Houston TX @ White Oak Music Hall Upstairs

Fri. March 29- Dallas TX @ Club Dada

Sat. March 30- Austin TX @ Parish

Tue. April 2- Phoenix AZ @ Rebel Lounge

Wed. April 3- Pioneertown CA @ Pappy & Harriets

Thu. April 4- Los Angeles CA @ Zebulon

Fri. April 5- Big Sur CA @ Fernwood Tavern

https://www.dragcity.com/products/rooting-for-love

(Photo credit: Marie Merlet)

[worthmorejewelers]

Baguette Diamond Bands That Cue the Bling

When it comes to bridal jewelry, your engagement ring often takes center stage, but your wedding band holds equal significance after the vows are exchanged. For brides who adore an extra touch of sparkle, baguette wedding bands in Decatur, GA are a stunning and sophisticated option.

Known for its sleek, elongated rectangular shape inspired by the French baguette, this timeless cut exudes elegance. Let’s dive into the details and explore whether a baguette wedding band is the right choice for you.

[masinadiamonds]

Wedding Ring Stacks: How To Create Visual Balance in Your Ring

While the engagement ring often takes center stage, the journey of jewelry shopping continues with wedding bands in Atlanta, GAand for many, a single band simply won’t do.

Enter the wedding ring stack: a modern trend that allows couples to express personal style while celebrating their union. This versatile approach blends metals, stones, and designs, creating a look as unique as your love story.

Why Consider a Wedding Ring Stack?

Wedding ring stacks are more than just a trend, they're a form of self-expression. You can honor tradition while experimenting with different styles, metals, and stones. Whether it’s incorporating a family heirloom or adding a pop of color with gemstones, the possibilities are endless.

A ring stack offers flexibility, too. If your engagement ring is a classic white diamond in platinum, you can elevate it by adding rose gold custom design jewelry in Atlanta, GA ,creating a layered look.

This blend of traditional and modern elements appeals to contemporary brides who want their rings to reflect their evolving style.

How to Build Your Ideal Stack

Start With the Basics

The first step is selecting the custom jewelry in Atlanta, GA that complements your engagement ring. Choose classic silhouettes like pavé bands, bezel-set rings, or baguette designs, which pair beautifully with most engagement rings.

Pay attention to proportions and profiles. Look for bands with smooth edges that feel comfortable and cohesive and do not be afraid to experiment, mixing metals can make your stack truly stand out.

Build Over Time

Start with three rings - your engagement ring and two bands. Odd numbers look better visually. Over time, add pieces to commemorate milestones, like anniversaries or the birth of a child.

This approach allows your stack to evolve, taking the pressure off finding the perfect combination immediately.

When shopping, try rings on together to see how they interact. The magic often happens with unexpected pairings. Traditionally the mother of the groom will give the bride her third wedding ring, or you can simply invest in one that catches your fancy.

To Summarize

Your engagement ring’s setting plays a crucial role in your stack. A raised setting allows for a flush stack with minimal gaps, while lower settings create negative space for a more eclectic look. Consider contoured bands for a snug fit or straight bands for a bold, modern vibe.

[shopmyband]

Custom Wedding & Anniversary Bands for Men and Women in Atlanta

Looking to Buy Wedding Bands for your Partner in Atlanta? Choose the perfect band from a wide range of Wedding bands, Anniversary Bands, Eternity Bands and Classic Bands with Various types of Metal and Design. Our Wedding Bands features are polished edges, brush finish, sparkling diamonds with certified by GIA, Free shipping and free lifetime cleaning.

[vampireninjabunnies-blog]

WIP Wednesday (I'm not late. You guys were just early lol)

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton,@direwombat and@inafieldofdaisies

Bearer of Bad News

Joey Hudson

This was the worst part of the job. And she shouldn't be the one doing it. Damn it Whitehorse should be here walking up the steps to John's front door. The autumn breeze sent a chill down her spine. It was eerie for the ranch to be this quiet. The Peggies standing nearby eyed her suspiciously. Normally the ones in Holland Valley were quite a bit friendlier than the rest elsewhere. It made her nervous.

"Relax Joey." Danny squeezed her shoulder lightly and gave her a small smile. "You being tense won't make this any better. Let's get it over with."

She knocked sharply on the door when they finally reached it, waiting patiently as the sound of footsteps grew louder. When the door opened it was Joseph who greeted them.

"Deputy Hudson, Deputy Trevor. How can we help you?"

They had very few interactions with Joseph in the past. Only occasionally seeing him with Jerome or his brothers. Whitehorse usually handled Joseph. In many ways he intimidated Joey the most, though she couldn't quite figure out why.

"May we come in? We need to speak to John." Danny thankfully didn't sound nearly as hesitant as she felt.

Joseph motioned for them to come in, watching them closely. His gaze unsettling and hard to read behind the yellow tint of his glasses.

"Who is it? Has someone heard something?!"

The sound of their voices must have carried because John came rushing in from the other room. Joey had never seen him like this. Normally so well put together, John's hair was disheveled and clothes were in disarray. He was visibly sleep deprived and from what she could tell had likely been drinking.

"Hudson,Trevor? Why are you here? Did you find her?" His voice was strained, pleading. It broke her heart.

Danny looked at her, both of them trying to find the words.

She pulled a small chain from her pocket, a dainty gold wedding band hanging from it. The glimmer of hope that had been shining in his eyes died when she handed it to him.

"I'm sorry John. This is all we found. And it's already been several weeks and-"

His eyes widened staring at her. "No no...you have to keep looking. You have to..."

Danny put a tentative hand on his shoulder "She couldn't swim John, the odds that we'll find anything now. Look we're sorry but"

John fell to his knees begging them to keep looking. His words muddled behind incoherent sobbing. Joey took note of the vague look of disdain behind the veil of sympathy on Joseph's face as he stared at his baby brother. Danny led her out when he motioned for them to leave. Muttering another apology as they left.

Joseph held John whispering in his ear. "I'm sorry John. I'm sorry they gave up."

John looked up at him, his eyes red. For just a moment Joseph saw nothing of the grown man he'd found in Atlanta. Instead the little toddler wailing in the corner after their father had beat him. He ignored the twisting gnawing feeling of remorse in his gut. An opportunity had presented itself and intended to take it. Touching his forehead to John's.

"You put too much faith in these sinners John. They don't care. Of course they would give up on one of ours. Have faith brother. Atonement will come."

Danny paused, drumming his fingers on the open car door looking back at the ranch.

Joey leaned on the roof "What's the matter?"

"You see the look on Joseph's face? Not so sure that wreck was an accident."

They climbed into the car. She looked at him with doubt. " I don't know Danny. You might be reaching there. I mean his own brother?"

He started the engine and pulled out of the drive toward Fall's End.

"Maybe but something don't feel right here. Somehow we're gonna get the blame for this. Whole lot trouble coming our way Joey."

She sighed staring out the window at the glaring Peggie faces as they drove by, wishing again that Whitehorse had come instead of them. Maybe Danny was right. Damn it this really was the worst part of the job. Being the bearer of bad news.

[lorenzajewelry]

Wedding Rings Atlanta, GA

Planning your wedding is one of the most special journeys of your life, and choosing the right wedding ring is a significant part of that experience. At Lorenza Jewelry, we offer an exquisite selection of wedding rings designed to reflect your unique bond and last a lifetime. From classic bands to contemporary designs, each ring is a masterpiece of craftsmanship and enduring beauty, ensuring it will be cherished forever. We also feature diamond-accented rings that add a touch of sparkle for added elegance. Other popular styles include eternity bands, which showcase endless rows of diamonds symbolizing eternal love. Our modern designs with unique shapes and finishes also cater to contemporary couples looking for something distinctive.

[atlantaartisticweddings]

Atlanta Wedding Photographers Capture Fall Wedding at Berry College

This week’s blog is Ellie and Andy.  Their wedding took place at Berry College in Rome, Georgia where Ellie went to school.  As an Atlanta wedding photographer I have never been to such a beautiful setting for a wedding.

Ellie and Andy met in Austria where Andy lives a few years ago when Ellie was working there.  Andy accidentally went to the wrong door in her apartment complex and that is when they first saw each other.  They started up a conversation and hit it off.   After a few months they fell in love.  She had to move back to the United States and Andy followed her and his heart.  He proposed and the wedding planning began.

Berry College is a small independent, coeducational college founded by Martha Berry in 1902 as the Boys Industrial School with the mission of providing education to poor children of the rural south.  The campus consists of thousands of acres of green space and large historic buildings with many that are registered on the National Register of Historic Places.  The buildings are large gothic inspired stone masterpieces, with large arches and carved details.  These impressive structures make for a perfect backdrop for weddings.  The campus has been the backdrop of many photoshoots and movies such as Stranger Things, Sweet Home Alabama and Remember the Titans.

The wedding took place at the Frost Chapel which is a few miles from the main campus area.  It is a historic gothic church on top of a hill overlooking a large park and surrounded by woods. This time of year you see the autumn colors.  The burnt orange and red leaves of the trees make for an impressive backdrop.  When I arrived I felt like I was driving up to a castle on a hill.  

Tara and I arrived first.  Tara started taking detailed shots of the church and I broke out the drone to get some wide shots of the church and video for the highlights movie. As we finished up the wedding planner and bridal party started to arrive.  

After talking with Ellie the most important guests were her grandparents.  She wanted to do a first look with her grandmother and grandfather.  So we tucked her away and when the grandparents arrived they got a first look with the bride.  It was a very emotional moment for all.  After that we took the rest of the bridal party photos outside.  We took advantage of the rustic church and fall colors. We then went inside to hide the bride because the guests started to arrive.

The music started and the ceremony began.  There was a small trio that played the theme from the Lord of the Rings

 and a Little Thing Called Love from the band Queen.  The grandparents came in first and sat up front, then the parents and wedding party.  Ellie’s father went out the side door and met up with Ellie.  They came in and the guests stood and saw a beautiful bride.

Andy and Ellie wrote their own vows.  They were heartfelt and full of tenderness and humor just like the bride and groom. You could tell how much they enjoyed each other’s company the way they playfully chidded with each other.  They exchanged rings at the altar.  Ellie’s ring was passed on to her from her grandmother so it made for a beautiful southern tradition.  Then a few moments later they were officially man and wife!

We took a few more photos around the campus and headed to the main campus for the reception. There the couple was announced and they went straight into their first dance. Guests ate and had a great time dancing.  For the exit the couple had an antique Ford model T car.  The guests cheered them on as they went into the night as a married couple.

Thanks for checking out this Atlanta wedding photographers blog! I hope you enjoyed the read and found it interesting! Make sure you keep coming back to our blog to see what the Atlanta wedding photographers at Atlanta Artistic Weddings get up to! If you’d like to contact me go to the contact page and drop me a line at https://www.atlantaartisticweddings.com/contact-atlanta-wedding-photographer. I would love to hear from you!

Thanks again!

Source: https://www.atlantaartisticweddings.com

[gjblackjr]

57 AM

So Jamey and I, having not moved to Michigan after all, started working on music. It was sort of done without a lot of joy. Trying to figure out how to carry on. We made contact with another bass player. He traveled from out of town, to play with us a few times. He had an unusual set up, but was amiable enough, so we were making a go of it. Eventually to be called 57AM. By that time we were rehearsing in a storage space. We would have to pull the door down to minimize the volume to neighbors close by. The Shroud was still committed to play IS Fest in ATL that summer. Jamey and I had kind of adopted the position that 57AM should just take the spot and play since The Shroud was done. However, Lee and Chris said that they were really interested in playing. It would be the final show. After a decent amount of discussion, we agreed to play the show. 57AM would be scheduled to play on the late night stage. We started rehearsing for The Shroud show. It was equally great and a bummer. The Shroud was THE band, 57 AM was ok. Like the rebound girl after a breakup. I remember hanging around with Jamey after a rehearsal with The Shroud wishing we could put it back together. I don't know why we couldn't. We hadn't moved and no longer had plans to. The festival was in July. That June Chris got married. A beauftiful wedding. My wife had our first baby. A beautiful boy, who also plays the drums now. For ISFest, My wife, Shannon and I were staying with her grandparents in Peachtree City. Nicholas was 2 weeks old. The festival was at some Ag Center or something. Atlanta area. I remember walking up and seeing Lee. Piltdown Man was on stage and they had a large audience. We looked at each other and just were like "they are so good". Honestly, that was an understatement. They were fantastic. I had briefly met Matt Goldman when we played a show with The Waiting and he played for them. He was wearing a Hothouse Flowers shirt. Anyway, I didn't know that it was him up there, but he was killing it. I saw someone air drumming. It was all sort of amazing and disheartening. The Shroud was over. 57AM was supposed to play the late night stage that night. The Shroud was scheduled to play at 1030 AM (AM!!) the next morning. That night, Mike Knott went on. After his first song, he went offstage. When he came back he was wering this dress - one of those dresses that look like it could be a shower curtain - and a hat with plastic fruit on it. The band started in to the next song, but got cut off. Turned out there was a sort of noise curfew. He didn't finish his set and more importantly, the late stages were cancelled. 57 AM never took the stage.

[theweirdspacejellyfish]

movie recs

smokey and the bandit

summary: get ready to tear up the highway with the bandit a fun loving fast talking trucker who takes on his craziest haul yet- delivering 400 cases of beer from texarkana to atlanta in just 28 hours. with sheriff buford t. justice hot on his trail and eager to teach him some respect for the law the bandit joins forces with good ol boy cledus and runaway bride carrie

national lampoon's vacation

summary: hop in the family truckster with clark w. griswold a chicago family man who leads his brood on a madcap trek to L.A. amusement park walley world. along the way, the grisworlds encounter out of control cars, an ill tempered dog, a beautiful model, and hillbilly cousin eddie.

major payne

summary: when peace breaks out in America, killing machine major benson winifred payne of the united states marine corps special forces is given his marching orders... to the unemployment line. unable to cope with civilian life, payne is thrust back into the military regimen as commander of the madison academy junior rotc. how does the militarys most dangerous secret weapon discipline a few good men when none of them are even old enough to shave?

liar liar

summary: a fast talking attorney and habitual liar who, forced by his sons birthday wish, must tell the truth for the next 24 hours

some like it hot

summary: tony curtis and jack lemmon masquerading as women in order to elude irate chicago mobsters while befriending singer

gentlemen prefer blondes

summary: two glamorous showgirls have everything a girl could want, except engagement rings

old yeller

summary: when his younger brother adopts a frisky stray dog, 15 year old travis tries to shoo him away. but old yeller soon proves he is anything but "yellow" when he protects the family farm and saves travis life

hotel for dogs

summary: after moving into a foster home that forbids pets, siblings andi and bruce must quickly find a home for their dog, friday.the resourceful pair find an abandoned hotel, and with the help of bruces mechanical skills, turn it into a pooch paradise for friday and a number of strays. but when the inevitable baking makes neighbors suspicious, andi and bruce must find a way to hide their canine haven from prying eyes

joseph: king of dreams

summary: inspiring musical advenure retells the classic story of a boy with an extraordinary gift of seeing the future through his dreams

parent trap

summary: hallie parker, a hip californian, and annie james, a proper london miss are identical twins who dont even know each other exists -- until they accidentally meet at summer camp. now theyre up to their freckles in schemes and dreams to switch places, get their parents back together, and have the family theyve always wished for

freaky friday

summary: dr.tess coleman and her teenage daughter anna have one thing in common -- they dont relate to each other on anything. not clothes or men or annas passion to be in a rock band. nothing. then one night a little mystic mayhem changes their lives and they wake up to the biggest freak out ever. tess and anna are trapped inside each others body! but tess's wedding is saturday and the two must find a way to switch back -- fast! literally forced to walk in each others shoes, will they gain respect and understanding for the other's point of view?