#cypress column & trim

[moniquemartinez]

Backyard Porch This is an illustration of a traditional mid-sized porch with a roof extension made of stamped concrete.

[gregorymoorejr]

Backyard - Traditional Porch Image of a medium-sized, elegant stamped concrete porch with an addition to the roof

[project3x5]

Backyard - Porch Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless stamped concrete porch remodel with a roof extension

[tomlaceyart]

Porch - Traditional Porch Mid-sized classic stamped concrete porch idea with a roof extension

[bookman-dgm]

Traditional Porch This is an illustration of a mid-sized, conventional stamped concrete porch design with an addition to the roof.

[fannibalmusical]

Mid-sized classic stamped concrete porch idea with a roof extension mid-sized traditional stamped concrete porch design with an addition to the roof

[forsworned]

cw: sexual content, pnv sex, scratching, biting, marking, you being shameless as fuck about your sex life in front of the others, also not proofread

Johnny can't help but overhear the conversation you're having with Kyle about your hook-up gone wrong. About how "men just aren't men anymore", and "they don't make them like they used to". He chuckles, shaking his head as he watches his brew pour in his cup, but his ear perks up at your voice again, echoing from the hallway to the living room.

"...he literally stops me mid-stroke to whine about not scratching him! Can you believe it!" You huff, plopping down on the couch.

Kyle watches you with amusement, taking a seat next to you while he sips at his mug and glances up at Johnny. "He's unbelievable."

"And then he tells me that it hurts when I bite him!"

"Oi! Quit y'er moanin'! It's too early for allat." Simon grumbles, and you feel a touch embarrassed at his sudden outburst.

You pout. "Sorry." You apologize, deflating like a balloon on the couch and Kyle chuckles at you. He ruffles your hair to comfort you and you sigh. "You get what I mean, right?"

He nods, and then gestures for Johnny to 'solve' your little issue.

"What seems to be the problem?" Johnny leans against the counter next to Simon who is a bit vexed about being woken up to the sound of you bitching about a guy.

And then begins your tirade of how men just aren't as visceral and moonstruck by women anyone; how they've lost their passion and chivalry when it came to romance and you're starting to lose hope. Johnny pouts for you, but there's an amused look on his face.

He's so understanding. Truly, a gentleman when it comes to these sorts of things. So, it really doesn't come off as a surprise when he's offering to help you resolve 'said' problem.

Of course, you laugh in his face. You don't take him seriously. You never take him seriously.

"Up to you, obviously." He sits on the edge of your bed and you toy with the memorabilia that lines your worktable. You turn to him and he sits there looking like he got ready to fuck you.

Like no seriously, you can smell his aftershave, you can see that he's trimmed down his stubble and neatened up his disheveled mohawk. He smells like spearmint and cypress when he speaks and it's alluring to say the least.

"You're serious?" You quirk an eyebrow, fiddling with the little green toy soldier.

"As a heart attack." He smiles sincerely at you. "No pressure."

You set the toy down and silently move toward him. His baby blues never leave you as you reach out to grasp his shoulder, touch as light as a feather. Your legs straddle his hips and his arms instinctively wrap around your waist and you lean forward to place an experimental kiss to his lips.

They're soft and a bit raw. Like he's been scrubbing at them with a toothbrush for ten minutes straight and you giggle at bit.

"What?" His dark lashes flutter up at you, barely breaking the sweet kiss you've placed upon his lips.

You shake your head and smile. "Nothing." You hotly slot your lips against his and he collapses back against your bunk, easily maneuvering you against your mattress, and you feel a thrill run up your spine when he easily finds the sweet spot on your neck.

A moan easily escapes your lips, your spinal column curving as your chest presses up against his burly one. And soon your clothes are accumulating into a little pile next to your bed.

For a moment, you both analyze one another. It wouldn't be the first time you've seen Johnny naked. He shamelessly prances around the living room with his cock out because he seems to always forget his towel in his bedroom, but this is the first time you're seeing him rock hard. And fuck it's thick and veiny, uncut and weeping at the tip.

And he's sure as hell never caught a glimpse of your bare form, maybe clad in a towel, but surprisingly you've never sported a wardrobe malfunction in front of him.

"God, lassie--"

You cut him off, covering his mouth with your hand and shake your head. "I want you to show me that you're capable of fucking me right. No whining, no complaining."

He grins. "Right, just the visceral fuckin' you crave, huh?"

And that makes your pussy clench. From the minute, he enters you, you're clawing at his skin and he's groaning at the snugness of your tight wet pussy as he takes pleasure in the pain. It's addicting.

Your sharp nails against his shoulder blades, biceps, and the nape of his neck and your teeth buried in his neck as he fucks you so good. It's a deep, fast, and ravenous rhythm that makes you cum in two minutes. The orgasm he gives you is unlike any other you've experienced. Maybe because it was wrong. Using company time to fuck your teammate wasn't the best decision in the world.

But the way your body spasms, seeking purchase in his dark locks as he thrusts deep into you, getting at that sweet spot beyond that spongy area. Oh man, it's like a seventh heaven as you moan out his name.

And Johnny? Mans is on another planet. He can't even believe you're letting him fuck you. And the way you cum so quickly on his dick? He can't even hold out any longer, quickly following suit, but he's still hard. His dick molding your insides and you wipe the sweat that forms at your brow before stretching out your arms and giggling.

"Fuck, that was...that was really fun." You breathe. A grin stretches across his lips and he peeks down at the milky ring around his cock.

"Looks like ye had a lotta fun." He retorts, and you chuckle at his obvious remark.

You study the marks you've left on his body and he's more than happy to parade them around. "

"I loved it." He reassures. And he did. It was worth the two minutes, and maybe even more if you'd let him.

"Good." You grin before kissing his chin, and nipping at it. He groans in pleasure.

"Keep doin' tha' and I'm gonna have another go at ya."

You bite your lip looking at him with mischief brimming in your eyes. "Try me."

masterlist

[matriarchalmuffin]

Porch - Backyard

[caughtonsamsung]

Traditional Porch - Porch

[lizalaforet]

Backyard - Traditional Porch

[hanayakani]

Backyard - Porch

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

How about fun sex tropes number 3 w sledgefu? 😊

3. sex on a countertop/tabletop/sink because we couldn’t wait to get somewhere with cushions

I wanted to do something with the quarantine, so this is a modern-ish AU. Also, hopefully you like my chosen hard surface! I love Sledgefu but do find it difficult bc the Sledgefu writers in this fandom are … pretty much actual gods.

I loved writing this though, so thanks for the request 😊

* * * * *

Gene was done.

Completely over it.

His classes had been cancelled for the remainder of the semester, and he was suddenly filled with a sense of purposelessness.

“Gene. If ya don’t find somethin’ to do, I’m gonna have to find somethin’ for ya.”

Normally, Snafu’s words would have been suggestive, dirty actually, except that he really was tired of Eugene acting like a Victorian dandy in distress.

He would sit down to read, then stand up with a dramatic sigh as he tossed his book back on the couch. He’d putz around the apartment, opening doors then closing them, like he was looking for something. He’d clean the bathroom, then the bedroom, grumbling all the while about Snafu’s dirty laundry being everywhere but in the hamper, and in Snafu’s defense, it was usually only an errant sock or maybe the shirt that he had just taken off for the day.

Sometimes, Gene would head into the kitchen and start cooking something, only to have some minor step in the recipe go wrong and the entire dish would be tossed in the trash.

That didn’t just annoy Snafu; he hated it. Food was not ever something to be wasted.

So, when Gene started pulling ingredients out of the cupboard, it was Snaf who snapped his book shut with a sigh.

“Stop, Gene,” he commanded while walking into the kitchen.

“You tooold me to find something to do,” Gene whined.

“Not waste food.”

“Fine,” Eugene snapped and began putting the strewn ingredients back into the fridge and the cupboard.

“Put ya overshirt on.”

“Why?” he said, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that made Snafu want to slap him or kiss him—when Gene was difficult like this, he wasn’t sure which option would actually make him feel the best once it was done considering he’d only ever tried the kissing.

Snafu ran a hand through his curls, which were bordering on wild thanks to the quarantine. Eugene had offered to give him a trim, but he had only eyed his boyfriend warily, thanking him, but deciding to wait for the barber to open.

Gene’s hair was longer than usual, too, but it suited him. Snaf loved to run his hands through it, pushing it back from his forehead and just feeling the way the silky, auburn strands fell from his fingertips as he pulled Eugene’s hair up and away from his face.

“Because I asked ya to.”

Gene huffed but made his way to the bedroom. Snafu grabbed a light jacket from one of the hooks near the front door and checked the pocket for the keys to his truck. Reaching back to make sure he had his wallet, he slipped into his shoes and waited for Eugene to emerge.

“Where we goin?”

“I’ll tell ya when we get there.”

Eugene frowned, but Snafu saw something come alive in his eyes, something he hadn’t seen since the first few weeks of the quarantine when Eugene realized that he was locked inside with his boyfriend without anything to do for days and days except make love.

It was wonderful, a damn near divine experience for them both until the days droned on into weeks, then months, and they both began to realize that something like this was going to alter life as they had known it forever.

Gene followed Snafu out of the apartment, doubling back to make sure the door was definitely locked.

They drove in a comfortable silence for the first hour, the radio quietly singing but not much louder than the sound of Snaf’s truck rumbling down the highway.

During the second hour, Gene started getting antsy: shuffling in his seat, resetting his seatbelt only to adjust it again in a few more minutes, opening the glovebox for no reason and shuffling through whatever Snafu had crammed in there.

Maybe this is worse than wastin’ food, Snafu thought as he watched Gene in his peripheral.  

When Eugene adjusted his seatbelt for the third time in a row, Snaf turned his head to look over at him and ended up smiling at the way his hair caught the last rays of the dying sunlight, looking golden at the edges, like a halo on a deeply ripened strawberry.

“Talk to me, Gene. Ain’t dat wha’ we do?” Snafu asked before reluctantly turning his eyes back to the road.

Gene said nothing for several minutes, and Snaf didn’t push; he knew how this worked, how stubborn Eugene Sledge could be.

After two more sighs and another snap of his seatbelt, Gene started talking.

He fumbled through his words at first, restarting his sentences and trailing off with a frustrated, “You know what I mean,” until suddenly, he found the right metaphor for what he was feeling and then he couldn’t stop talking.

Gene talked for the next hour of the trip, talked until his mouth was dry.

But god be damned if he didn’t feel better, like he had just purged himself of a gut full of rotten meat.

“Can we stop at the next gas station? I’m parched,” Gene asked, his voice raspy, but his tone light.  

“I think ‘bout a lotta those things, too,” Snaf said quietly as he slid his hand over to flick the turn signal, the ticking filling the truck in the silence after his statement.

“How—how come you don’t let it . . . eat at you? I feel like I’m just raw with worryin.”

Snafu was quiet for a moment, his eyes checking the rearview and the side mirror as he switched lanes to catch the exit.

“I jus’ figure as long as I’ve got you, nothin’ else really matters. Sounds stupid, don’t it?” Snafu said with a soft laugh.

No—no it was not stupid at all, Eugene thought, realizing he wanted to do nothing other than to kiss Snafu silly for saying the most brilliant thing he had ever heard.

And once the truck was in park, Gene did just that.

He tore off his seatbelt and slid to the center of the truck, almost smacking into Snafu as he turned to see what the hell had gotten into his boyfriend, but he didn’t have to wonder long because Gene planted his lips on him in a searing kiss.  

He pulled on Snafu’s lower lip with his teeth, sucking it into his mouth before he tilted his head and thrust his tongue inside, earning a moan of approval from Snafu.

Snafu’s tongue swirled around Gene’s, his mouth open wide, wanting to taste every inch of the man who meant so much to him.

Eugene was almost in Snaf’s lap when Snafu closed their kiss, gently pushing Gene away.

“Thought you was parched?” he panted.

“I am—but I guess not just for soda,” Gene grinned.

Snafu laughed and shook his head. “Come on. We got a long drive back. Let’s get some caffeine.”

Eugene clutched at Snafu’s shoulder. “This is . . . it? We’re not going anywhere?”

“No, cher. I jus’ needed ya to talk to me. Didn’t know how else to get ya to do it.”

Eugene’s face burst into the first genuine smile Snafu had seen in over two weeks.

“You sly sonofagun,” Gene said, still grinning.

“Gotta stay on ma toes with you.”

“I could kiss you.”

“Ya already have.”

“I could kiss you forever.”

“Genie, dat’s all I’m eva gonna need,” Snaf said, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Gene’s lips. “Come on—now I’m parched.”

Stocked up with drinks and snacks, the boys began their drive home, this time with Eugene sitting in the middle of the cab, leaning into Snafu’s shoulder as the conversation flowed freely amidst their glances and their laughter that now filled the cab, drowning out the music.

But after a while, it wasn’t enough for Gene to just lean into Snafu; he had started with his hand mid-thigh, an act of sweet affection more than sexual suggestion, but the affectionate gesture shifted quickly to the latter when Gene’s fingers began to flex, crawling up Snafu’s thigh higher and higher until the Cajun’s foot hitched on the gas.

“Wha’chu doin, boo?”

“Touchin’ you.”

“We makin’ poetry now?”

“Pull over ‘n we can sure make somethin,” Gene said, leaning over to capture Snafu’s earlobe between his teeth.

Snafu made a noise in his throat and took the next exit.

“There,” Eugene said, pointing to the sign that signaled a pull off for a nature preserve.

Snafu drove over the winding roads until he found a secluded turnoff, perfectly bottlenecked by tall, bald cypresses. He drove a ways into the clearing, cut the engine, and cracked the window.

“Nice out he—mmf,” Snaf began before he got cut off by a red head in his lap, squeezing between him and the steering column, the horn emitting a short beep, but neither of the boys caring as they kissed, intense and deep, lost in something they both had been badly missing.

“Want you so much. Need you Snaf,” Gene puffed out between kisses.

Snafu pushed Gene back a little, the horn again reminding them of their tight position.

“Think we need more room?”

“Ya gotta get off ma lap first,” Snaf replied with a smirk, giving Gene’s ass a light smack before he wiggled back to the middle seat.

After his feet plopped onto the dirt, Snafu pushed up his seat to pull out the sleeping bag he kept there.

“Gene,” Snaf spoke up before the red head could slide all of the way out of the cab.

He angled his curly head toward the glovebox, and Eugene popped it open, rummaging through it to find the tube of lubricant.

The boys settled in the back of the truck, and it was clear that Eugene needed to take control by the way he was immediately on top of Snafu, and it was clear that Snafu was open to whatever it was Gene needed by the way he was sighing underneath him.  

Popping open Snafu’s jeans, Gene reached in and palmed his hard cock, rubbing and twisting until there was pre-cum slickening his thumb.  

“I wanna fuck you so bad, Snaf. Bury my cock in you.”

“Do it, Gene. Miss ya so much.”

Popping the top off, Gene smeared lubricant on his fingers and crawled back over Snaf, spreading his legs with his knees and quickly working Snaf’s dick and opening with each hand. Eugene quickly jerked Snafu off, his hand flying over Snafu’s hard cock, twisting at the tip just the way he liked until he was spilling hot cum all over his stomach and Gene’s hand.

Before Snafu’s breathing had time to even out, Eugene slickened up his cock with the lube and positioned himself at his entrance, pushing slowly until Snafu breathed, “Fuck me.”

Eugene groaned, low and animalistic, and thrust into Snaf’s heat, both of their eyes squeezing shut at the intensity of the sensation.

“Gene,” he breathed, laying back on his elbows and looking up at the night sky, his throat bared and Eugene’s eyes raked over Snafu’s body, thinking he had never looked sexier.

“You’re beautiful,” Gene breathed as he began to move, slowly, caught up in everything that was Snafu.

Snafu’s cheeks flushed and he was glad it was too dark for Gene to see him blush. Countering the intensity of his own emotions, he bit out, “Tell me ya wan’ more. I know ya wan’ more.”

Eugene moaned and pulled out of Snafu.

“Hands and knees,” he demanded, watching intently as Snafu shot him a toothy grin that Gene could see perfectly under the night sky before he rolled over and got in position.

Gene pressed a kiss to the base of Snafu’s spine before he straightened and brought both hands down on Snafu’s ass, digging his fingers into his cheeks as he pushed into him again, the growl of satisfaction emitting from Snaf spurring Gene to really let go, to fuck him like he needed to fuck him.

Eugene admired the flexing of Snafu’s ass as he pounded into him, both of them groaning out their pleasure to the trees, to the stars, to the night itself until Gene finally felt like he had purpose again.

This man, so open and willing in front of him, was his purpose. How he could have forgotten that, he would never know, so he swore as his hips stuttered to a halt and he came inside of Snafu’s body, swore that he would never forget again.

Gene collapses on top of Snafu, pressing him into the bed of the truck, distracting the discomfort with the kisses he is peppering across every part of his boyfriend that he can reach.

“Wow,” Gene said rolling onto his back and releasing Snafu.

“I’ll fuckin’ say,” Snaf answered, rolling onto his back, too.

“Did I ever tell you you’re the best boyfriend this side of the Mississippi?”

“Only this side?”

“Well, we’re still young,” he joked as Snafu reached out to smack him. “Once this quarantine lets up . . .”  

They both laugh as they shimmy back into their clothes, sliding out of the truck bed and standing in the dewy grass.

“Thank you,” Gene said, pulling Snafu close to him.

“I love ya, Gene. Jus’ want ya to be happy.”

“I am happy. I really, really am.”

And when he leans in to kiss him, Snafu knows that Eugene means it.

[things-in-old-books]

An Artist's Home at Leonia, New Jersey

We present herewith in this issue, on page 7, an artist’s home, which has been erected for Peter S. Newell, Esq., at Leonia, N. J. The design is simple in its treatment, but with its gambrel roof, latticed windows and shaded piazza it gives it a purely substantial and artistic effect. The underpinning is built of red sandstone with rock faces. The building above is covered on the exterior framework with sheathing paper, and then shingled and left to weather finish natural, while the trimmings are painted bottle green. The columns at piazza are of hard-wood, oiled und finished natural. The roof is shingled and finished natural. Dimensions: Front, 36 ft.; side, 34 ft., not including piazza. Height of ceilings: Cellar, 7 ft. 6in.; first story, 10ft.; second, 8ft. 6in.; third, 8 ft. 6 in. The interior throughout is trimmed with cypress and finished natural. The main reception hall is entered through a vestibule. It is of large dimensions, and it contains a large open fireplace, with a tiled hearth and facings and mantel. This fireplace has seats built in on either side. The staircase hall is separated from hall proper by an archway, and it has a broad landing with seat, ornamental newels, posts and balusters. The parlor and dining room are treated in a neat manner, and they have baywindows with seats. Kitchen and pantries are wainscoted and furnished with the best modern fixtures. The second floor contains a library, four bedrooms, six closets and bathroom. The bathroom is wainscoted and furnished with enameled tub, porcelain fixtures, and exposed plumbing. The third floor contains one large studio, one bedroom and ample storage. Cemented cellar contains laundry, furnace, and all necessary apartments. Cost, $4,000 complete. Mr. H. Toler Booraem, architect, No. 34 Nassau street, New York.

Scientific American Building Edition, vol. 25, no. 1, January 1898.

[gardendecor]

How do i decorate my garden?

These are Some Points for Decorate your garden By Online Garden Store -

1. Use Ornaments as Finishings

Significantly more than a reconsideration, garden adornments can direct how you shape and utilize your outside space, and influence how it feels when you're in it. A created iron door can stamp the passage to a universe of green, a tree-hung light raise your point of view, a bended seat move a rest. Painstakingly positioned, pretty at this point useful, these components offer unpretentious however powerful hints: Turn here. Turn upward. Slow down. They additionally give a nursery space a completed look in each of the four seasons. Try to not try too hard.

Appeared: An endured iron pendant, for certain bulbs eliminated for an irritable gleam, swings from a tree over a bed of agaves.

2. Plan for Outdoor Rooms with  Online Garden Store

"An outfitted nursery shouldn't look excessively awesome or imagined," says Susie Beall, an inside planner who, with her draftsman spouse, Ed, considered the nurseries on their moving section of land in Southern California. Their objective: to make outside rooms as agreeable as the ones inside.

Appeared: Succulents pour out of a column like grower at a way entrance, with an iron chime dangling from a close by tree.

3. Try not to Be Afraid of Patina

Similarly as they changed their 1950s farm house in the style of a Tuscan farmhouse, the couple needed a scene with patina. They began by clinging to a straightforward, generally green palette of plants featuring pepper, cypress, and Chinese elm trees in the midst of rosemary, acanthus, Virginia creeper, and white 'Ice sheet' roses. "Nursery stylistic theme can become mixed up in an exceptionally vivid scene," says Susie. "As far as we might be concerned, our generally stone decorations are the bustling part, and they fly against the green foundation." Certain things, gotten on their movements, might be pedigreed and expensive, however they share ground with list and nursery finds, so nothing appears to be excessively valuable. Peruse on to figure out how they utilized enlivening items to make enticing open air living spots.

4. Rehash Your Home's Exterior Style

Whatever the style of your home, trimmings can convey it into the scene, establishing the structure in its setting. Here, to orchestrate with the rural stone-clad passage, iron urns are set on coordinated earthenware platforms. In the patio, a pediment embellished with dolphins and holding pruned succulents echoes the subject and makes a point of convergence. The house's stone is gotten in the pavers, seamed with grass that relax the stroll to the front entryway.

5. Spruce Up Garden Entrances

Indeed, even in a little scene, a succession of discrete spaces, associated by ways and ways, adds a feeling of secret and extensiveness to a standard walk. The Bealls made an excursion that starts with a wisteria-hung arbor close to the house and twists downhill, across porches, along strolls, and down advances that proceed with the topic of eye-getting, weatherworn stone. Ways demonstrate the way; iron curves and doors—numerous from gardener's-supply inventories and covered with plants—mark changes to various zones. Pruned bougainvillea, citrus trees, and palms further complement sections, as do finials roosted on platforms.

6. Tie Furnishings Into the Overall Scheme

The style of any tables and seats you pick bigly affects the appearance of your outside spaces, obviously. Yet, they ought to likewise feel durable with the other enlivening items and materials you use. The Bealls found a couple of economical rust-completed iron eating sets at a ceramics yard. With additional seats spread around the cleared "cover," they make an easygoing parlor for mixed drinks and discussion.

7. Pick Decor Suited for The Outdoors

Somewhere else, the couple made an open air lounge, however rather than expensive all-climate wicker, they picked move arm wicker seats from an import store and weatherized them with splash on marine stain. Solid ceramics yard platforms twofold as additional seats and mixed drink tables. A dark oval aluminum feasting set anchors the primary accumulate round eating space.

8. Take Lighting to Another Level

Numerous scenes are generally sentimental after dull—by the shine of the moon and when all around put electric lights spotlight trees and light up ways. The Bealls made their lighting a stride further, balancing generous open air lamps from the limbs of trees. They additionally utilized tall streetlamp style lights to accentuate yards and traffic circles. Every one of these installations organize with the lights set on the house's outside dividers.

9. Exhibit Plant Collections

Other than singling out most loved examples for pots and platforms, the Bealls gathered holder plants where they could like them at eye level. Ed, whose enthusiasm is succulents—aeoniums, senecios, echeverias, agaves—shows them on a vintage pine table and a painted dresser that he covered with a waterproofing sealer for wood. "On the off chance that you wrapped these plants up beds, they'd vanish," Susie notes. "Here, you can concentrate all their surprising shapes."

10. Grasp Unusual Displays

A corroded iron bin supports tabletop succulents so they can tolerate outing from the plant beds.

Hearing the stream of water is an everything except powerful draw to investigating a nursery. Tuning in to its music, you need to follow it to its source, and in the Bealls' scene there are many. A wellspring with an octagonal bowl makes the fluid soundtrack for the spice garden. Another, repeating the columnar state of Italian cypress trees close by, rises in the midst of bloom like agaves, attracting hummingbirds droves. The two pieces were earthenware yard scores. The wellspring with lions' heads that cools the relaxing zone is a classical find. Plant aromas, frequently drifting from design holders, request their own euphoric consideration: The gateway urns invite guests with honeysuckle and jasmine; goliath spice garden compartments offer up lemon blooms; and night-blossoming cereus opens in pots around the primary eating table.

Certain plants are naturally compositional or can be pruned to look that way. Among those normally formed to give the nurseries managing lines are Italian cypresses, which rise like green sections against the Bealls' slope sees. Others incorporate the rosettes of Agave lessen that tumble around stone flights of stairs and wellsprings in unique differentiation to the ramrod-straight cypress.

Blog by -  Online Garden Store

[glitchinthesystemspiderbyte]

[11] Glitch in the System - Clear as Mud

By K. A misunderstanding happens.

–

Sunlight filtered through the cypress-laden garden, cutting thin, luminous swathes among their untamed branches. When Talon arrived a month ago, the garden was as much an art installation as it was a respite from the bustling world within and beyond the outpost walls: a meticulously curated selection of local flora contained within the boundaries dictated by remarkable columns of deep, resplendent green. Now, weeks later, the atrium better reflected its constituency, its shrubs and the tall, thin trees comprising its borders reflecting the chaotic aims of its lackluster curators.

Thankfully, it wasn’t quite a foregone cause. A day’s pruning and weeding would, by Widowmaker’s estimate, bring the garden back to at least a semblance of its former glory; from there, it would require only a few hours of care a week to maintain. An undertaking at the outset, certainly, but one which would prevent the recurrence of such aesthetic disrepair.

“Did you call it ‘aesthetic disrepair’?” Sombra asked as they leaned side by side against the railing of the balcony overlooking the atrium.

“Just help me,” Widowmaker replied. “I’m tired of looking at this mess and no one else is going to do it.”

“I don’t know shit about gardening.”

“We’re not gardening,” the taller woman clarified, relying fruitlessly on the semantic difference. “We’re just trimming.”

Sombra cast an appraising glance over the courtyard, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth as she took stock of the haggard landscaping below. “How do you know what to trim and what to leave?”

Widowmaker shrugged. “I don’t.”

“So…,” Sombra prodded expectantly.

“So, cut what looks messy and pull what looks like it doesn’t belong,” the taller woman said as she stepped away from the railing. “We can’t make it any worse than it already is.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sombra replied, following her down the graduating staircase to the garden path below. “I could kill a cactus if you gave me the chance.”

Widowmaker laughed beneath her breath, light and quiet from a few feet ahead of her as they approached a shed tucked into the corner of the courtyard, its door hanging loosely in its frame. It gave way with a groan as she splayed a hand over its surface, its rust-eaten hinges offering no resistance as she pressed forward. Beyond lay a long workbench and a spartan collection of hardware and gardening tools hung haphazardly along the walls. Running her fingers along the line of assorted implements, she plucked a pair of pruning shears from the wall, handing them to Sombra before snagging a second, smaller pair for herself.

“The hell do we do with these?” she asked, opening and closing them with a degree of trepidation better suited to live wires or corrosives.

“You trim,” Widowmaker replied, tossing her a pair of heavy polyurethane gloves. “Go on,” she commanded, shooing the hacker from the shed. She followed shortly after, tugging on her own gloves as she trailed the shorter woman.

“Where do I start?” Sombra asked as she glanced from plot to plot.

“Wherever you please,” Widowmaker replied as she started on the first in a long row of cypress trees.

Hours passed, the pair combing across the garden one tree, shrub, and flower bed at a time. Widowmaker took to the task with tenacity in lieu of skill, approaching each unhewn branch with meticulous attention to detail. Her work was far from perfect, but it was still a dramatic improvement over the garden’s prior state of neglect. That, for the time being, was sufficient.

Sombra, on the other hand, proceeded with increasing frustration. Though her work was no better nor worse than her partner’s, Widowmaker seemed content with the work getting done at all, while Sombra only saw a growing series of amateur imperfections.

“This is bullshit,” Sombra grumbled as she tried and failed a fourth time to even the edges of a particularly officious shrub. Widowmaker, perched atop a ladder where she was engaged in a battle of wits with the almost-perfect point of one treetop, paid her complaint - one of many - no mind.

Sombra knelt, gathering a handful of branch trimmings and lobbing them upwards. The wad of wood, leaves, and dirt connected squarely with the back of the sniper’s head before dissolving into its composite parts.

“Aïe!” she yelped, dropping her shears to steady herself against the ladder. “Really, Sombra?”

“I said, this is bullshit,” the shorter woman repeated, crossing her arms.

“Then take a break.” Widowmaker replied coolly. Sombra’s tantrum began hardly an hour into their task and Widowmaker had long tired of reminding her they weren’t striving for anything beyond simple maintenance. As the hacker’s mood worsened, the sniper gave up on her plaintive and admittedly clumsy attempts at encouragement, choosing instead to concentrate exclusively on her work. This only seemed to make Sombra even more upset, and Widowmaker resigned herself to having to weather her attitude until she either gave up or quit.

“Maybe I will,” Sombra grunted, turning on her heel and marching back up the stairs toward the estate, leaving a quietly flabbergasted Widowmaker to her work.

Dusk settled over the garden as she finished, tugging her gloves off one finger at a time before tossing them without so much as a backwards glance into the shed behind her. It wasn’t a professional gardening job by any means, but it was certainly a marked improvement: the hedges were pruned and nearly even, the cypresses restored to their original, spiring formations. The flowerbeds presented a unique challenge inasmuch as her floral literacy was profoundly lacking, so Widowmaker resorted to keeping what was appealing and weeding anything that looked remotely like it didn’t belong. The result was more unbalanced than she preferred, with bald patches of empty soil dotting the landscape in unpredictable patterns; thankfully, it was less noticeable when considering the garden as a cohesive whole.

Hands on her hips, Widowmaker turned to face the staircase by which Sombra disappeared that afternoon. The hacker never returned, leaving her to continue in earnest. Though she welcomed the lack of interruption at first, a nagging twinge of guilt supplanted her relief as the day progressed, lingering now with the scent of soil and the heavy tiredness borne of a long day’s work.

Pursing her lips, she cast her gaze upwards to the westernmost corner of the outpost, leveling on the broad balcony window she knew to be Sombra’s. How was she supposed to react to the other woman’s whining? She knew Sombra better than to suspect she desired any coddling, so what, exactly, had she been looking for?

“Ça craint,” she muttered under her breath, setting off toward the steps. She sure as Hell wasn’t going to get any answers from the garden.

Of course, finding Sombra required exponentially more legwork than Widowmaker anticipated. Mugs of cocoa in either hand, the sniper traversed the halls of the west wing to no success. The hacker’s room was not only unlocked, but empty aside from Toulouse, and she wasn’t camped out in the kitchen or any of the other communal areas.

Gabriel, churlish as ever, had watched the sniper as she scooped cinnamon into both mugs, his narrowed eyes and omnipresent frown lodged somewhere between intrigue, horror, and concern.

“Cocoa,” he observed with dry removal better suited to a death sentence.

“Oui, what of it?”

“Amélie Lacroix-,”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, diverting her attention precisely long enough to affix Reyes with a piercing, golden stare. Though he offered nothing in the way of apology, he raised his hands, palms out, in a gesture of retreat.

“Widowmaker, making cocoa. With cinnamon.”

“Yes, Gabriel. It’s Novembre: a perfectly reasonable time for cocoa.”

“Who’s the other mug for?” he asked, raised eyebrows indicating he knew perfectly well its intended recipient.

“Certainly not you,” Widowmaker shot back. “Where’s Sombra?”

“Haven’t seen her,” Gabriel rasped, matching her dismissiveness effortlessly. “Try the roof.”

She thought he was joking. Now, having exhausted all other alternatives, the assassin rounded a series of corners to find the attic staircase hanging open, illuminated from above by the flickering orange glow of centuries-old electric lamplight.

Rolling her eyes, Widowmaker followed the stairs upward to a dust-smothered attic spanning at least half the wing. Its contents were few: old candelabrum, a smattering of wooden crates and sealed cardboard boxes, plastic-covered furniture, unframed paintings faded beyond recognition. Unlike the rest of the outpost, this quarter was reserved mostly for living space; thus, while Talon leveraged other parts of the building to their fullest extent, it barely used most of what this wing had to offer. If not for the lines of footprints trailing from the staircase to the rooftop exit at the other end of the room, it would be easy to mistake for untouched.

She followed them until she could see Sombra sitting just outside on the rooftop, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“Is this where you take your petulance?” Widowmaker asked as she stepped through the narrow doorway. Sombra’s only reply was a shrug, almost unnoticeable through the swathe of heavy wool. “How did Gabriel know you’d be here?”

At this, Sombra laughed inwardly. “He comes here, too,” she replied, accepting the mug offered her. “Awkward.”

“Mm, prime brooding real estate,” Widowmaker quipped as she sat beside the hacker.

“Cinnamon?” Sombra asked, lifting the cocoa to her nose. “Shit, was that you back at that ski lodge? You did kill the owners, didn’t you?”

Widowmaker, leaning back on one elbow at her colleague’s side, offered Sombra the most cryptic smile she could muster before hiding it behind the rim of her own mug. Of course she hadn’t, but Sombra’s lingering suspicion never ceased to be amusing. Still, watching the hacker over the top of her drink, she could discern her lingering frustration in her hunched posture and adamant refusal of eye contact.

“You are upset,” Widowmaker observed.

“Es obvio,” Sombra said.

“Because I ignored you.”

Sombra turned her full attention to her colleague, brows knit as if trying to read something beyond Widowmaker’s impassive gaze. Clearly unable to find what she was looking for, she simply sighed.

“I wanted to spend time with you, araña. Dancing, gardening - whatever; I did it to be near you. So, yeah, because you ignored me. Man, did they shut off your ability to pick up on context clues, too?”

Widowmaker frowned.

“I thought it was because you were just bad at gardening,” she admitted - and it was true. Sombra’s frustration started in tandem with their work and only worsened with time. She never considered the spy’s participation in a task in which she was clearly uninterested as anything other than an inversion of their usual dynamic; now, Widowmaker realized that was never the case to begin with and that she was, to her continued chagrin, always two steps behind in the strange dance they’d been practicing for over a month now.

“Désolée,” she said quietly. “I enjoy spending time with you, too. This is difficult, you understand?”

The hacker tilted her head. “How so?”

“Sometimes, I can put two and two together - context clues,” Widowmaker explained, the slowness of her speech underscoring the care with which she chose the words to best convey her own frustration with Talon’s programming. “Others, it’s as if the two and two are suddenly, I don’t know. Trigonométrie. The math is not so simple. I’m sorry.”

Sombra shifted beneath her blanket, fumbling for its edges as she offered the taller woman an opening. Widowmaker sat up long enough to fit herself neatly against the other woman’s side, slipping an arm about her shoulders before the hacker folded the blanket over the both of them.

“It’s not that cold,” the sniper whispered against her shoulder.

“Do not,” Sombra countered, smiling.

*Read from the beginning or check out our intro post! All stories tagged under #glitchfic

[samuelmmarcus]

Interior Design Ideas: Atlanta Home Design

  Designed by one of my favorite architects, TS Adams Studio (previously featured here, here & here), and interiors by the talented Courtney Dickey and Bill Musso, this Atlanta home should leave you inspired.

The homeowners wanted a home with a transitional interior approach and lots of natural light and warm textures while having it also feel elegant. Colors come through the stunning artwork done by the homeowner Leslie Irvine, a well-known artist.

Take notes on all sources shared by the interior designer and be prepared to pin a lot because every picture in this post is pin-worthy! Have fun filling up your boards, everyone!!!

  Interior Design Ideas: Atlanta Home Design

The exterior of this traditional home features painted brick, Weathered Granite stone and Vermont Slate roof. Notice the stunning windows and roof line.

Total Sq Ft: 8,888

Bedrooms: 4

Bathrooms: 5 Full, 2 Half

Exterior Paint Color

The exterior brick is painted in Sherwin Williams Shoji White.

Raised garden beds are surrounded by the same stone used on the exterior of the house.

Exterior Stone

The stone used on the exterior is Weathered Granite.

Lighting: Flambeaux – similar here, here, here & here.

Beams

Beams are Cypress, custom-stained.

Foyer

Featuring elliptical arches, medium-toned hardwood floors and a custom front door, this foyer is impressive and inviting at the same time.

Light: Urban Electric – similar here & here. Other Foyer Lighting: here, here (large), here, here, here, here, here & here.

Similar Foyer Mirror: here & here – similar.

Similar Foyer Bench: here, here, here, here & here.

Architectural Details

“The home feels open so it flows, yet it has a traditional structural bone that gives each room its own identity”. – Tim Adams.

Paint Color: Benjamin Moore White Dove.

Trim Color: Benjamin Moore White Dove.

Steel Transom

Custom black steel interior round windows add an impressive detail to the doorways of this home.

Great Room

This home mixes white framed windows with black steel windows and somehow it works really well. Fireplace is Limestone with a flush hearth.

Furnishings are mostly sold through trade (feel free to contact the designer) or custom. I’ll be sharing similar items to help you get the look.

Draperies are custom with Kravet fabric – similar here.

Leather Console: Edelman – similar here, here & here.

Faux Concrete Stools: here.

Sofas

Sofas are Bjork Studio with custom fabric – Other Slipcovered Sofas: here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Accent Chairs: here – similar.

Coffee Table: Through designer: Others: here, here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Sideboard: Through designer – Others: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Artwork: Leslie Irvine.

Rug: Custom Sisal – similar here.

Windows & Doors

Combining windows, doors and transoms gives an impressive effect to this living room.

The steel windows are by Calhoun Metalworks (see picture below) and the remaining are standard exterior clad/painted wood interior windows.

Dining Room

This dining room is surrounded by natural light and casual elegance.

Beams: Cypress Color- Roma Custom Stain (greywash)

Light: Visual Comfort – similar here (affordable option).

Sconces: Urban Electric.

Table: Bungalow Classic – similar here & here.

Chairs: Verellen slipcovered in white linen – similar here & here.

Flowers

White hydrangeas are one of my favorite flowers to make a beautiful arrangement. They’re so easy to work with!

Walls

Walls feature limewashed V-groove paneling. Also notice the ceiling beams and corbels framing the archways.

Butler’s Pantry Cabinet: Morgan Creek Oak Stain 1193.

Kitchen

A custom varnished steel hood by metalsmith Charles Calhoun was placed right in front of the casement black steel windows. The beams framing the windows are custom lime-washed Timber.

Similar Hood: Here.

 Hardware: Ashley Norton – Pulls, Knobs, Appliance Pulls – similar.

Kitchen Paint Color

Kitchen Cabinet: Benjamin Moore White Dove Shaker Cabinet.

Light: South of Market (sold out) – similar here & here.

Kitchen Faucet: Rohl.

Kitchen Sink: Rohl.

Countertop: Nova Blanca Marble Island.

Counterstools: Thibaut Counter stools in Faux white leather – Other Beautiful Counterstools: here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Powder Room

This is perfection right in front of our eyes!

Washstand: Bradley – McCoy Sink with Shelf – (available through trade only) – Other Beautiful Vanities: here, here, here & here.

Mirror: Bradley- Lane Mirror – (available through trade only) – Other Scalloped Corner Mirrors: here & here.

Railing: Custom by Charles Calhoun.

Wallpaper

Wall: Philip Jefferies – Driftwood- Twilight Blue.

Countertop: Bradley- Concrete midnight blue with integrated sink – (available through trade only) – similar here.

Faucet is custom – Other beautiful wall-mounted faucets: here, here & here.

Art Studio

Casement windows bring an abundant amount of natural light to the homeowner’s art studio.

Draperies: Linen, custom – similar here.

His Office

The study features paneled walls painted in a surprising color, Benjamin Moore Kentucky Haze, and arched windows.

Light: Visual Comfort.

Hall

Paint color is White Dove OC-17 by Benjamin Moore.

Light: Urban Electric – similar here.

Master Bedroom

The master bedroom features a stunning greywashed vaulted ceilings with shiplap and exposed beams and an inviting window-seat. I personally love bedrooms with window-seat!

Chandelier: Fontana Arte – similar here.

Bed: Century Furniture – similar here, here, here & here.

Bed Fabric: Schumacher.

Corvelet Fabric: Holland & Sherry – Other Recommended Bedding: here, here, here, here & here.

Pillow Fabric: Jane Churchill.

Bench: Mitchell Gold + Bob Williams – similar here & here.

Rug: Custom – Designer Carpets Inc – similar here. – Other Beautiful Rugs:here, here, here, here & here.

Paint Color

Bedroom Paint Color: Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove.

Lamps: Barbara Cosgrove Lamps (through the trade) – Other Beautiful Lamps: here, here, here & here.

Inspiring Nighstands: here, here, here, here & here.

Drapery Fabric: Pindler & Pindler, Inc.

Master Bathroom

Wall paint color is Benjamin Moore Horizon. A freestanding tub is tucked into a nook located between the vanities.

Sconces: Urban Electric Sloane.

Cabinet: Morgan Creek Finish 1145.

Hardware: Ashley Norton – similar here & here.

Faucet: Newport Brass.

Countertop: Lace white marble.

Tiling

 Tile: 12″ x 24″ white marble tile  – Grout Color: Moonlight – Changing the tile pattern from the flooring to the walls helps create more interest in this bathroom.

Shower Tile: Here – similar.

Crown Molding Tile: Here – similar.

Light: Urban Electric- Chp – similar Here – Other Drum Chandeliers: here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Tub Nook

Tub: Freestanding Victoria and Albert – similar here & here.

Tub Filler: Newport Brass.

Towel Bars: Newport Brass.

Café Curtains: Custom.

Hardwood Flooring

Hardwood Floors Throughout the Home: Oak (similar here). Notice the stunning staircase with radiused treads and the grey Dutch-door leading to the mudroom.

Shiplap is painted in Benjamin Moore White Dove.

Barn Door: Oak.

Her Office

This small but elegant home office features a custom Oak barn door with rustic hardware, a Weathered Granite stone walls, black steel windows and a custom desk with side cabinets.

Wall: Phillip Jefferies – Rivets in Silver.

Desk Chair: Verellen in linen – similar here, here, here & here.

Light: Restoration Hardware – similar here & here.

Mudroom

A custom mudroom bench is flanked by closed lockers and it features an oval window surrounded by a mix of vertical and horizontal shiplap. Cabinets are are custom inset cabinets with a fixed panel and crown moulding above. Paint color is White Dove OC-17 Benjamin Moore.

Cabinet Hardware: Ashley Norton – similar Pulls & Knobs.

Light: Urban Electric Factory.

Floor: Bluestone – similar here.

Fabric: Romo.

Rear View

When it comes to the architecture of the home, the architect, Tim Adams, decided to keep the front elevation of the house more closed-in for privacy and more open on the back elevation to welcome the private yard.

Two-sided Fireplace

The patio is extended and the space can also be enjoyed with a two-sided outdoor fireplace.

Pool

The pool are is surrounded by trees.

Cabana

How perfect is this pool cabana? I love the architectural details.

Patio

Flanked by stone columns, the retractable patio doors open to an inviting covered patio with outdoor kitchen (see left). Floor tile is Bluestone.

Beautiful Outdoor Furniture: here.

Fireplace

The two-sided outdoor fireplace stone is Weathered Granite. The same stone is used on the raised hearth and mantel.

Outdoor Furniture: Lee Industries – similar Chair & Sofas.

Outdoor Pillows: Here.

Outdoor Centerpiece

What a beautiful idea. Pin this idea to inspire you with your gardening this spring!

Faux Log Arragment: here.

Timeless Beauty

This stunning loggia features impressive ceilings with limed Timber trusses and slate roof.

Draperies: Custom – similar here.

  Many thanks to the architect and interior designer for sharing the details above.

Architecture: TS Adams Studio (Instagram – Facebook)

Interior Design: Courtney Dickey and Bill Musso for Musso Design Group.

Project Manager: Noah Speights – TS Adams Studio

Photography: Emily Followill

  Best Sales of the Month:

Thank you for shopping through Home Bunch. I would be happy to assist you if you have any questions or are looking for something in particular. Feel free to contact me and always make sure to check dimensions before ordering. Happy shopping!

  Wayfair: Up to 75% OFF – Huge Sales on Decor, Furniture & Rugs!!!

  Joss & Main: End of Season Sale: Up to 85% Off!!! Free shipping with code: STARS

  Serena & Lily: Huge Furniture Sale! Up to 60% Off!!!

  Pottery Barn: President’s Day Sale: Up to 70% Off!

  One Kings Lane: High Quality Design Decor for Less.

  West Elm: 20% Off your entire Purchase + Free Shipping: Use Code: WINTER

  Anthropologie: Huge Sales on Furniture and Home Decor.

  Urban Outfitters: Hip & Affordable Home Decor.

  Horchow: High Quality Furniture and Decor. Up to 30% off the entire site!

  Nordstrom: Up to 40% OFF!

Posts of the Week:

2019 New Year Home Tour.

Classic Colonial Home Design.

Empty-Nester Modern Farmhouse.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: How to Build your own Home.

Interior Design Ideas: Home Renovation.

Keeping Room & Master Bathroom Renovation.

Stone Lake House.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: Building a Forever Home.

Newport Island Beach House.

Stone Cottage-style Home Design.

New Year, New Beautiful Homes of Instagram.

Family-friendly Home Design.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: Canada.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram.

Georgian-Style Manor with Traditional Interiors.

Transitional Home Design.

Interior Design Ideas.

Grey Kitchen Paint Colors.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: California Beach House.

Follow me on Instagram: @HomeBunch

You can follow my pins here: Pinterest/HomeBunch

See more Inspiring Interior Design Ideas in my Archives.

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If I am wrong, right me. If I am lost, guide me. If I start to give-up, keep me going.

Lead me in Light and Love”.

Have a wonderful day, my friends and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

with Love,

Luciane from HomeBunch.com

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