#fireplace repair in long island

[gurugirl]

THE COUNT | {vamprry} a preview

Series Summary: Count Styles lives on an island you’ll not find on any map. He’s lived in relative solitude for ages and is happy to have the rare occasional guest who accidentally runs into his small slice of the world, though they may not be as thrilled by his intentions once they find out what he is.

When Y/n's weather vessel crashes into his island one stormy night he greets her and offers her shelter in his castle while she waits for someone to help repair her boat. She soon comes to adore the strange and charming man and grows a worrying attachment. But she cannot help herself. No matter how much she learns about the Count and how strange her world has become she cannot seem to pull herself out of the haze of his alluring spell.

Even when her life depends on it.

..

Short preview below.

NOTE: this preview is from part 2

. . .

Pressing her ear closer to the door she closed her eyes and there was a distinct male voice, a sobbed moan that, after a loud thud, turned into something like a pitiful crying. But then she heard another voice and there was something familiar in the way it cooed and teased almost. She could not make out words but the sentiment was clear. There were two people in that room having sex and one of them was Harry. The other sounded to be a man.

Stepping back from the door she realized her mouth was hung open in surprise. Perhaps the Count was into men. Well, he was quite pretty. She could imagine that she supposed. Before she could even turn around the sounds behind the door stopped and the silence that suddenly surrounded her had her heart picking up a beat. Had she made a noise?

She swallowed and turned her head to see her door open down the hallway and wondered if she could make it quickly before anyone knew that she’d been listening in.

But the moment that thought popped into her head the door opened up and there was Harry in a long white cotton pijama, the top unbuttoned and nearly draped off his shoulder. She glanced over his frame and back up to his eyes but he was different. His irises were almost black and his mouth was set strangely, like he had swollen gums, “Would you like something, Y/n?”

Shaking her head she stepped back, “No. Sorry. I… heard something… nothing. I’m going back to bed. Sorry!”

She turned to move away but he stopped her, his hand wrapped around her upper arm, making her twist back to face him, “Are you sure don’t want anything?”

She darted her eyes behind him to the room he’d been in and it appeared to be lit by a fireplace. She saw something move across the doorway but couldn’t make out what (or who) it was.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you. That… I was just worried…”

He smiled, his lips covering his teeth as he closed the door behind him and stepped in dangerously close, holding her arm to keep her from inching away. He looked down at the dirtied material tucked under her arm and he grunted softly, “Oh my. What is this?”

Letting go of her arm he plucked the defiled sheets and nightgown from her and dropped the sheet to the floor, his hands crumpling around the white fabric, thumb dragging into the slippery wetness where her arousal had dripped.

She felt herself flush hot with embarrassment as she watched the Count inspect the damage she’d done to her nightgown. It was obvious what it was he was looking at.

“Poor, Y/n,” his dark eyes met hers as he lifted his thumb to his mouth and ran the pad of his digit against his tongue, eyes fluttering closed when he swallowed.

All of the breath in her lungs was caught and now the flush of heat was forming in her tummy as she watched him enjoy the taste. Her taste.

His jaw clenched as he opened his eyes and looked down at her, dark irises raking over her frame and then back up to her face, a deep exhale escaping his chest, “We’re all carnal beings, Y/n. There’s no shame in the body’s natural reaction to an arousing dream. All you have to do is call for me next time and I’ll make the emptiness go away. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

She couldn’t blink or look away from him. She was trapped by his haunting gaze as he drew a finger from her jaw up to her temple and then back down until he’d gently scraped his nail over her pulse point, pressing in just enough to make a small indent bite into her flesh, before lifting and pushing his nail in crosswise against the same spot.

“X marks the spot. Doesn’t it, Y/n?”

She gulped, “What’s that mean?”

Harry lowered his face close to hers. He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, “If you ask politely,” he wrapped his hand around the side of her neck, thumb dragging against her jaw, “I’ll show you what it means.”

. . .

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[thebunnednun]

Buggy the Clown x Fem!Reader Enchanted meeting (Part 5)

This could go one of two ways. "We could flip the coin I'll be your slave."

Buckle your asses down. I know all the buggy fic writers have been busy and there isn’t much to work with in terms of material from the show rn.

But that isn’t gonna stop me!

Reader becomes a very naughty girl in this next scene.

Part 4: Here

-----------------Chapter 5: Unexpected dinner guests-------------------

The early morning air was thick with tension ( and sweat, ew.) as the crew gathered around the dimming fireplace, the warmth of the flames offering a fleeting sense of comfort amidst the looming threat of Buggy and his crew.

Conversation was pretty subdued, each of the members lost in their own thoughts as they contemplated the events of the day and the challenges that lay ahead.

Sanji being the doting momma he is, was making everyone a hearty breakfast even though no one really had much of an appetite. Luffy had gathered some plants and fruits from the nearby foliage and Nami was making some plans for repairs with Usopp and a new list of supplies. 

Zoro sat in silence, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sharpened his swords with practiced precision. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and calculations, his senses on high alert for any sign of danger. He glanced over your form a few times before straightening himself out. 

Robin, ever the strategist, poured over a map of the island, tracing her finger along its winding paths and hidden trails. Her keen intellect paired with Nami’s was going to be the foundation of getting off this weird island. 

Chopper busied himself with tending to the fire, his small hands deftly arranging the logs to keep the flames burning bright. He helped you bring in water for everyone's baths this morning and was checking in on your mental state. The poor baby even offered himself as a cuddle buddy for you sometime in the night. You woke up with your hand absentmindedly rubbing his back not knowing if it was to sooth him or yourself. To remind yourself that you were safe, for now. 

Brooks had kept watch and strummed a few light melodies to help the restlessness that ceased you and the others throughout the night. He had retired upstairs for some rest and you were relieved for him, honestly. You knew everyone was trying to be considerate of your feelings. 

And you, (Y/n), sat quietly among your friends, mind racing with thoughts of Buggy and the looming confrontation that awaited you. The memory of his sinister grin sent a shiver down your spine, a chill that no amount of warmth from the fire could dispel. Everytime you close your eyes, that was all you saw before jerking awake. 

Let’s cut to the chase, you didn’t even know why you found the clown attractive. As the author, I chalk it up to some childhood trauma but to each their own, ya know? Anyway, you couldn’t put your pretty little finger on it. The man literally tried to kill you over accidentally smooching his nose! Wait, speaking of that-

You were barely able to sleep at all these past two nights and it was weighing heavily on you. Thanks to Choppers help you were able to wash all the makeup and sweat off from the evening and had donned a nice pair of gray sweats and a fitted long sleeve black shirt. But, even after all of that, your mind kept replaying the events that led up to now. Especially when you first laid eyes on him.

Those cerulean eyes, blood red grin, and just how good it felt when he held you. The way his eyes traced over you while you were inside his embrace. The sparks that ran through your skin when he trailed his fingers up your arm and found purchase cradling your cheek. His eyes drinking in the sight of you as you became lost in his. How easily he lifted you up to the crowd and even when he carried you over to the center of the ring his hold was gentle yet firm. 

You did want to see what else those hands could do. 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. ‘Be fucking for real. This psycho wanted to kill me. Over what!? A kiss on the nose? Big deal!’ Big deal indeed. You resisted touching your lips to the memory of how soft his nose actually felt. Not to forget how cute he looked getting all flustered from the simple gesture. Which also led you to wonder if anyone had ever shown him affection like that before? [Maybe Shanks?~] The image of your deep red kiss imprinted into the center of his flashy nose made your heart stir. 

Fuck you wanted to see more of his cute reactions. If this is what he did over a little kiss what would he do if you tied him down to your queen bed? Oh, speaking of that-

The cabin offered comfort as you furnished it with the belongings of the ship. The temporary home was beginning to feel permanent and you could tell it was grinding gears on Luffy. Now he had been pretty angry on behalf of the villagers and wanted to return to help them immediately.

The only issue was that the townspeople seemed to actually like ‘Buggy.’ Which was even fucking weirder. Apparently he often “performed” there for free making it one of the safer islands in the far east blue.

You didn’t even know if you could call this ocean part of the east blue. Not many charts or maps of it existed which was causing Robin and Nami mental distress. 

Needless to say, Gumby was pretty on edge about the whole thing. 

"We need a plan," you said finally, breaking the silence that had settled over the group. "We can't just sit here and wait for Buggy to come to us."

Zoro nodded in agreement, his gaze focused and determined. "Agreed. We need to be proactive if we're going to stand a chance against him."

Robin glanced up from the map, her expression thoughtful. "I suggest we fortify our defenses and set up traps along the perimeter of the cabin. That way, we'll be ready for any surprises he might throw our way." 

Chopper nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement. "And I can brew up some potions to help boost our strength and stamina! We'll need all the help we can get if we're going to take on Buggy and his crew."

Sanji agreed to help Usopp with repairs after you asked him nicely with Nami threatening him behind your back. Brooks was left alone out of respect for the more senior member of the group. 

After breakfast, the crew fell into a flurry of activity, each member contributing their skills and expertise to the preparations. Zoro and Sanji set to work reinforcing the walls of the cabin, while Usopp and Nami fashioned crude but effective traps from the surrounding foliage. 

Meanwhile, you and Robin scoured the area for potential supplies after setting your traps, reaching out to passing authorities and sailors for assistance in dealing with Buggy. The response was mixed, with some offering their emotional support while others turned a blind eye to your plight. 

But despite the challenges and setbacks, the crew remained determined as they faced the looming threat of Buggy and his crew. As the sun began to rise over the horizon, casting a golden afternoon glow over the island, the stage was set for a showdown unlike any other, and the crew of the Straw Hat Pirates were determined to emerge victorious. 

As the preparations continued, you felt a responsibility to express your thanks. "Alright, listen up, everyone," you declared, your voice ringing out with authority as you addressed the crew. "We're not going to let some two-bit clown pirate intimidate us. We've faced far worse than Buggy and his crew, and we've always come out on top."

Your words were met with cheers and nods of agreement from your companions, their determination mirrored in their eyes.

"Now let's show them what we're made of," Luffy continued, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And remember, no matter what happens out there, we've got each other's backs. That's what makes us the greatest crew on the Grand Line!" 

With renewed determination, the crew set to work with renewed vigor, their spirits lifted by the inspiring words and unwavering confidence. You slipped on some sneakers and grabbed your bag of farming tools. Today was going to be productive come rain or murderous blue haired, seafoam green eyes, well built, six foot tall clowns with sickeningly sexy smiles. 

‘Damn, you thirsty bitch, priorities!!’

The sun continued to warm your cold bones, you couldn't help but feel a sense of calm swell within you. This wasn’t sooo bad. And with that thought in mind, ready to face whatever dangers lay ahead with courage, cunning, and a healthy dose of sarcasm. 

Usopp and Sanji ventured down to the river to scavenge for materials to repair the damaged ship, while Zoro, true to form, managed to get himself lost in the dense undergrowth once again.

"Where's that mossy bastard gone off to this time?" Sanji grumbled, his brow furrowed in frustration as he scanned the surrounding foliage for any sign of Zoro.

“WHY, did you let him go in the first place!”

Usopp shrugged, his eyes wide with apprehension. "Who knows with him? We'll just have to keep searching until we find him."

Meanwhile, Robin and Chopper had ventured back out into the town to find a library or bookstore, leaving Nami and Luffy to keep an eye on the cabin and its surroundings. But as the hours passed and there was still no sign of Zoro, Nami's patience began to wear thin. 

"That idiot better not have gotten himself into trouble," she muttered, her hands clenched into fists as she paced back and forth in front of the cabin.

Luffy, ever the optimist, grinned widely as he watched Nami's pacing with amusement. "Don't worry, Nami! Zoro can handle himself. He's probably just taking a nap somewhere."

But just as Nami was about to launch into a tirade about the moss-headed swordsman's sense of direction, your voice cut through the air. 

“You guys don’t need to babysit me. I know you don’t wanna leave me alone and I was scared. But, it would be worse if Zoro was lost for two days again.” Nami nodded and sighed, “We could pick up Robin and Chopper before searching the trees again. He better not have gotten captured.” They left with Luffy giving you a tight hug before disappearing. 

You honestly needed that time alone. The ground was soft enough for you to kneel and plant the different seeds as you pleased. You worked in silence mostly though. But you did take a moment to bring a little lunch to Sanji and Usopp which they were very thankful for, especially Sanji. The man practically shot you with the hearts in his eyes. 

At some point, you had gone around the side of the cabin while the guys were still mending the sides of the ship. You could hear rustling from behind and you stopped to focus your gaze into the greenery behind you. However, nothing and no one had appeared so you continued with your planting. Which is why you ignored the next rustling sound until you felt a pair of human eyes trained on your back. 

“Back again already Moss stone?”

But instead of an enemy, a familiar figure emerged from the foliage, his flamboyant attire and smug grin made your eyes hurt immediately. 

He had ditched the captain hat. With a swift motion, he cast aside the iconic captain's hat, letting it tumble to the ground. However, instead of abandoning his pirate flair entirely, he retained the striped bandana wrapped snugly around his head. The vibrant hues of his appearance were unmistakable - vivid red lips contrasting against wisps of cerulean blue hair, framed by piercing emerald eyes. There stood none other than Buggy the Clown.

As you faced off against the notorious pirate, your grip on your shovel tightened, and your eyes narrowed with suspicion. A myriad of questions raced through your mind, each demanding answers that only Buggy himself could provide.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that something dangerous lurked beneath his playful demeanor. Buggy's smile, which usually spread from ear to ear, was peculiarly closed-lipped, and he remained silent for a few moments, studying you with a curious expression. 

You could sense the tension in the air, and you knew that this encounter could go either way. What caught you off guard was the deep cherry kiss still outlined on his nose. Finally, he offered a small wave in greeting, which did nothing to put you at ease. 

"What do you want, Buggy?" you finally demanded, your voice sharp with contempt.

Buggy raised his hands in a placating gesture, his grin widening as he took a step forward. "Now, now, princess, there's no need for hostility," he said, his voice dripping with false charm. "I've come to talk to your lovely captain. It seems we have some unfinished business to discuss."

You scoffed, gaze cold as you glared at the clown pirate. "I highly doubt Luffy has anything to discuss with you, Buggy. Now leave before things get uglier."

His face darkened for a moment, but Buggy merely chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he turned his attention to you, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"(Y/n), my dear. That’s your name right? Ya know, I’m actually delighted to see you again," he purred, his voice oozing with false sweetness as he sauntered towards you. "I must say, I've been quite curious about you ever since our little encounter at the big top. Tell me, what possessed you to plant such a bold kiss on my nose?"

You raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing at the corners of your lips as you regarded the clown pirate. "Oh, you know me, Buggy," you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I couldn't resist the opportunity to plant one on the most infamous nose in the Grand Line."

Buggy chuckled, his grimm grin widening at your boldness. "Ah, I see. Well, you certainly have a way with words, my dear. But I'm afraid I can't let you off the hook that easily. You see, I have a proposition for you."

Before you could respond, Buggy lunged forward, his hand outstretched as he attempted to grab you. But you were too quick for him, sidestepping his clumsy attack and smashing the head of your shovel down on his cranium. The clown almost stood up after the first hit, but you kept on with your tirade until he was on his knees. 

"Not so fast, Bozo!" your voice was laced with determination as you summoned your powers. With a flick of your wrist, you sent a wave of energy towards Buggy, enveloping him in a shimmering aura.

Buggy's eyes widened in shock as he felt himself shrinking down to size, his cries of protest drowned out by the sound of the repairs. Within moments, he was so small you would step on him if his outfit wasn’t so flashy. Quickly, you emptied a mason jar from your gardening bag and Buggy found himself trapped inside, his flamboyant attire dirty and his dignity shattered.

You grinned triumphantly as you held the jar up to eye level, your victory complete. "Oh,  how the turn tables," you said, your voice filled with satisfaction. "Now it's time for you to listen to what I have to say." You plopped the screaming specimen into your bag carefully. Finally, after almost three days of torment you finally held the object of your nightmares. You decided to add air holes later seeing how the angry little elf was banging on the container furiously. 

With Buggy safely contained inside your bag, you turned your attention back to the cabin, eager to fix that clowns attitude. Usopp and Sanji didn’t stop working which meant they hadn't even heard your small fight. Brooks was still asleep, you think. So, you’d have to be quick. 

Heart pounding and cheeks flushed with excitement, you hastily drew your bag up to your chest. Buggy's jar made a muffled clicking sound barely registering over the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m going to bed until dinner!” Sanji waved at you and you curtseyed before running inside. With a quick glance around to ensure that no one had witnessed your victory, you darted inside the cabin while giggling like a mad woman. 

But as you bounded up the stairs to the second floor, your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. The encounter with Buggy had left you feeling both exhilarated and flustered, the memory of his piercing gaze and wicked grin lingering in the back of your mind. I mean, your powers weren’t permanent if you didn’t control your emotions. There was no telling what that tall ass clown would do to your cute little plump ass if he escaped. 

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts as you reached the top of the stairs. But no matter how hard you tried to focus, the image of Buggy trapped inside the mason jar danced tantalizingly at the edges of your consciousness, sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. 

"Hey, (Y/n), what's got you all worked up?" Brooks' voice interrupted your thoughts, his sockets raised in curiosity as he watched you enter the room. He had startled you in the hallway after the staircase in a pink fuzzy bathrobe and matching slippers. 

You forced a smile, trying to appear calm and collected despite the turmoil raging inside you. "Oh, nothing much," you replied nonchalantly, though your heart still raced with adrenaline. "Just had a little run-in with some bugs, that's all." 

Some tall, dark, sexy bugs. 

Brooks' sockets widened in surprise, his expression mirroring the mix of shock and awe that you felt. "Bug, you say?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. 

You shrugged modestly. "It was nothing, really," you said, trying to downplay your accomplishment. "Just a stroke of luck, I suppose." You excused yourself to your room and quietly locked the door. And as you stood against your bedroom door, you couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence and determination wash over you.

But deep down, you knew that it was more than just luck. It was your quick thinking and resourcefulness that had allowed you to outmaneuver Buggy. If you weren’t aware of your surroundings you may not be here right now. ‘Sanji and Usopp wouldn’t have even heard me.’ A weight settling in your stomach as the realization sank in. With a heavy heart, you gravitated towards your bed, seeking solace in its familiarity.

You laid on top of your bed for a few moments. Mainly to calm your heart down from pounding out of your chest. Your nerves were shot. Gripping your fingers into the comforter you held tight as though the earth was tipping over and you would fall into the other side if you didn't. ‘I am safe here, I’m safe here, I am safe,’ you whispered into your mattress like a mantra. You slowly turned your head towards your bag before taking the jar out and setting it on your bed. 

Buggy looked a little disheveled but otherwise fine. However, the hate in his green orbs was loud and clear. The insults started almost immediately and you wondered how a man so small could still be so loud. You didn’t respond, though. Just staring at him through your long lashes before he quieted down. 

Then it was just the two of you gazing at each other in the soft afternoon light. 

“Are you done staring yet, princes?” he finally spoke with the left corner of his lips pulled into a smirk. You thunked the glass with your middle finger causing him to go stumbling back into the jar. You’d give Buggy this: The clown knew how to work your last damn nerves. 

“What?! Did ya get flustered?~”As Buggy taunted and teased, you couldn't help but fire back with your own brand of sarcasm, refusing to let his words get under your skin. His attempts to rile you up only fueled your determination to give as good as you got, matching his barbs with quick retorts and sassy comebacks.

"Why do you even want me anyway, huh?" Buggy quipped, his voice laced with amusement as he eyed you from inside the jar. "I'm not exactly your typical catch, you know."

You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to roll to the back of your head and keep them there. "Oh, I don't know," you replied, feigning innocence as you reached for your art supplies. "Maybe I just have a thing for clowns with oversized egos…"

“...and noses.”

Buggy chuckled, though there was a hint of insecurity in his eyes as he glanced down at his nose. "And what's with that nose of yours, anyway?" you continued, unable to resist questioning his apparent insecurity. "Are you compensating for something?"

He bristled at your remark, but before he could respond, you distracted him by pulling out your sketchbook and pencils. "I think I'll capture this moment for posterity," you said, your voice dripping with glee as you began to sketch his likeness.

Buggy watched with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance as you worked, occasionally making lewd comments about your outfit from that night. Each time he did, you shook the jar, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. “STOP THAT SHIT!” You shook the jar again until he was 

As the afternoon wore on, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity about the man trapped inside the jar. What was the deal with him anyway? You poked little holes at the top for him to breathe and dropped bits of bread into the jar all the while trying to engage him in conversation and banter. 

Buggy actually looked rather grateful,”Yeah, those shit heads didn’t feed me the last time.” Your eyes widened in surprise at the notion but as he explained you could see why. “Sanji at least gave you an orange and you were being a pretty big jerk.” He shrugged and swung one booted foot over the other. “What kind’ve shithead brings smoke bombs to a fight with a fish man?” His comment made you chuckle and he paused his eating to observe you. 

You were sketching him again before holding the jar up to your eyes. “Ya know, I think I have an idea.” And then, feeling a sudden surge of curiosity, you decided to grow him to the size of a doll.

Buggy's eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly found himself bigger but with you towering over him, his usual cold gaze replaced by a sense of vulnerability. But before he could protest, you picked him up, being careful not to squish him. “Can you stop being fucking creepy for ten minutes!”

You ignored his whining and began to poke and tickle his body. Thinking about it, Buggy  was about the same size as a water bottle now. You wanted to take his bandana off to see what his hair looked like but you didn’t want to hurt him. “ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!” Finding consciousness, you paused your touching to look up at him again.

“Mm?”

Buggy rolled his eyes, unpleased by your behavior. “Ya know, you're like, really weird. That’s a lot coming from me.” Feeling vengeful, whisked him away into your closet, revealing a secret dollhouse hidden away in the corner. Upon seeing it, Buggy began to fail and kick as he screamed, “NO (Y/N) DON’T EVEN FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT YOU-”

Let’s just say his protests fell on deaf ears as you placed him inside the dollhouse, a smirk playing on your lips as you closed the door behind him. "Now, now, Buggy," you said, your voice tinged with amusement. "I think it's time for you to learn a lesson in humility."

Buggy was beside himself. “What kinda sick sadistic shit is this!” His pride was wounded by your actions. "Why are you doing this to me?" he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration.

You shrugged, unable to hide the satisfaction in your voice. "Consider it a lesson in empathy," you replied, your tone firm but gentle. "Maybe now you'll think twice before you go around terrorizing innocent people."

Buggy's expression softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "Fine," he grumbled, though there was a hint of resignation in his voice. "But if I were my normal size, I'd spank your ass raw for this."

You laughed, shaking your head at his bravado. "Sure you would, Buggy," you said, your voice teasing as you turned to leave the room. "Sure you would." 

Just as you were about to sit down, there was a knock on the door. Sanji poked his head in, his eyebrows raised inquisitively. "Supper's ready, (Y/n)," he said, his voice tinged with curiosity as to why you were in the closet. "Are you coming?"

You nodded, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you glanced back at the doll house "I'll be right there," you replied, trying to hide the smirk on your face. As you locked the closet door behind you, you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Buggy trapped inside the dollhouse, his indignant protests muffled by the closed door. 

Satisfied with your prank, you made your way to the dining area where Sanji had prepared supper for everyone.

As you sat down at the table, you couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Surely Buggy wouldn't be able to escape the dollhouse, right?

But as supper progressed and the conversation flowed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at the back of your mind. What if he did manage to get out? What if one of the others saw him? 

WHAT IF HE TELLS THEM ABOUT THE DOLLHOUSE!

Just as the thought crossed your mind, Luffy, Nami, Chopper, and Robin returned from their search for Zoro, their faces drawn with worry. Sanji and Usopp, along with Brooks, excused themselves from the table to go look for their missing crewmate, leaving you alone with the others.

As you tried to focus on the dinner conversation, your mind kept drifting back to the closet and the trapped clown inside. You knew you had to go check on him, but you couldn't risk anyone else seeing him. “Hey y’all I’m gonna take a waz, be back!”

Finally, unable to ignore the nagging feeling any longer, you excused yourself from the table and hurried back to your room. But when you opened the closet door, your heart sank as you realized that Buggy was nowhere to be found. 

Panic surged through you immediately as a cold sweat looking through the closet into the open space of your room. As you frantically searched from the desk into the bedframe there was no sign of him. You cursed under your breath, realizing that he must have escaped during supper.

With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you knew you had to find him before anyone else did. But where could he have gone? And how were you going to explain his presence if anyone asked? 

Desperate to avoid detection, you began to search every nook and cranny of the cabin, your heart pounding with fear and anxiety. But as the minutes ticked by and the search proved fruitless, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping over you.

What if you couldn't find him in time? And what if someone else did?

As you raced against the clock, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences if Buggy was discovered. But despite the fear that gripped you, you knew that you had to find him before it was too late.

With a sinking feeling in your chest, you continued to search every corner of the cabin, desperate to find any trace of Buggy. Just as you were about to give up hope, your eyes fell upon a small figure crouched beneath the dining table.

It was Buggy, his eyes wide with fear as he stared up at you. 

Just staring at each other

Prolonged eye contact

Without a second thought, you scooped him up in your hands and held him close to your chest, hoping to hide him from view.

Feeling the warmth of your body against him, Buggy squirmed in discomfort, but you held him tightly, determined to keep him hidden. As you settled back into your seat, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. With each passing moment, the tension grew thicker, threatening to suffocate you. But you pushed aside your fears, determined to enjoy the meal and the company of your friends.

However, as the conversation turned to lighter topics, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Buggy's presence weighed heavily on your mind, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just beneath the surface.

Just as you were about to excuse yourself from the table, you felt a sharp jab against your side. Glancing down, you realized that Buggy was trying to wriggle free from your grasp. With a panicked squeak, you quickly readjusted your grip, dropping him inside your cleavage. You could see his pale face turn redder than his lipstick as he pushed against the soft flesh that caged him. 

Bold, aren't we?

"Shh, quiet down," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "We don't want anyone to find you."

Buggy scowled up at you, his expression a mixture of annoyance and indignation. "Let me go, you insolent wench!" he hissed, his voice filled with venom.

You rolled your eyes, unimpressed by his theatrics. "Not a chance," you retorted, your tone in a harsh whisper. "You're staying right here until I figure out what to do with you."

With a huff of annoyance, Buggy crossed his arms over his chest, sulking like a petulant child. But despite his protests, you held him firmly in place, determined to keep him hidden until dinner was over.  With Buggy safely tucked away, you could focus on finishing your food without any distractions.

As the meal came to a close, you excused yourself from the table, citing the need to use the bathroom. With Buggy safely tucked away inside your blouse, you hurried back to your room, hoping to have a moment of peace and quiet.

But as you entered the room and closed the door behind you, you looked down inside your blouse to your cleavage and was met with Buggy's furious glare. Scooping him out, you placed the flustered man onto your bed and sat on the opposed end. "How dare you treat me like some toy!" he spat, his voice laced with anger.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Listen, Buggy, I'm sorry for trapping you like that, but I can't risk anyone finding out about you," you explained, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Buggy's scowl deepened, but you could see the fear lurking behind his eyes. "And what if they do find out?" he demanded, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But before you could come up with an answer, a knock sounded at the door, interrupting your conversation.

"Hey, (Y/n), everything alright in there?" It was Robin’s voice, tinged with concern.

You cursed under your breath, realizing that you didn't have much time to come up with a plan. With a resigned sigh, you turned back to Buggy, a determined glint in your eyes.

"We'll talk about this later," you said firmly, before dropping him back into your bra and rushing to answer the door. But as you did, you couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

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Please check out my other works and leave feedback! It really helps and I love interacting in the comments. Find me on ao3 @TheBunnednun too!

Watch out for some new fics comming out this week. THe master list is pinned!!

See you in the next one my loves!!~ <3333

[focusandthefuries]

The Unspoken Journey of The Northman and The Mad Woman: Chapter 4

The walk back was silent, except for The Furies screaming in Senua’s ears.

How could you?

You betrayed Dillion.

He is a Northman.

She stole a glance at Thórgestr then, frowning at the expression he held. He was upset, but she couldn’t be sure if it was from anger or sadness. Regret, possibly. Did he regret nearly kissing her?

The thought made her deeply unhappy.

The healer was already inside when they arrived. She directed Thórgestr to take a seat on the bed. He did as she said. Beside her were a few different items. The ointment, proper wraps for his wound, and what looked to be a collection of different dried herbs. There was also a kettle and a basin of water resting by the cold fireplace.

“I have made more than what I will use tonight so you may take it when you leave. The ointment will sting, but it’ll heal faster than without. You must also drink as much tea made from these as you can stomach. The taste is bitter, but not entirely unpleasant.” Senua approached carefully, like a hunter not wishing to startle its prey. She grabbed the herbs with a nod at the old woman.

“I will start brewing it.” She was met with a smile. Senua returned to the kettle, pouring water in it and setting it over the flame of the fire she had created. Fargrimr sprinkled some of the herbs in a cup to help.

His relationship with Thórgestr was complicated, to put it mildly. He was once close with Thórgestr’s father, and had known the younger man for most of his life. Over the years, he had grown a sort of familial attachment to Thórgestr, viewing him much like the nephew he never had. Things soured, of course, when his father decided to take the island over by fear. Fargrimr didn’t hold it against Thórgestr, not like others did. He was just a boy, after all, when this whole mess started. However, he was a man now, one that seemed to be realizing the error of his ways.

The hope he felt when he saw Thórgestr, waiting for Senua’s return was immense. He knew Senua was special, and he thought that if anyone could return Thórgestr to the kindhearted boy he once knew from the coldhearted enforcer he had become in years of late, it would be Senua. Women have a way of doing that. Repairing what had long sense been broken.

These glances, shared between the two of them. Fargrimr recognized them. It was the same way he used to look at his wife in the beginning of their relationship. Equal parts fear and longing. He knew there was once a different woman Thórgestr had intended to make his bride. He did not know the exact details of her fate, but he knew once she was gone, so was the last bit of humanity that Fargrimr saw in Thórgestr. Or it was, at least, until their journey with this woman. He wondered if she knew how her presence healed pains and horrors so deeply seeded that Fargrimr once believed only Ragnarök was capable of destroying them. Everywhere she went, she brought hope.

“This tea, Senua. It helps to heal the body and the mind, but it does not come without some consequence. It can cause hallucinations. Distressing ones.” Fargrimr spoke to her, but his eyes did not meet hers. “I can stay with him tonight if you would prefer. If that is not something you feel inclined to help him navigate.”

His words hit her strong and fast.

He doesn’t trust you to care for Thórgestr.

Of course he doesn’t.

You wanted to leave him to die in the beginning.

Don’t you remember?

“I am fine staying with him.” She responded, pouring the freshly boiled water into the cup.

“Alright then.” Fargrimr hesitated. “His mother was a healer. I wonder if that’s why he keeps smiling at her, despite the pain.”

Was?

Is she dead?

Dead like your mother?

“Was?” Senua asked, parroting the question that was being shouted in her ears. Fargrimr hummed in response.

“One of the best on the island. Before the goði decided to conquer, all of us lived in relative peace. His mother would travel from settlement to settlement, teaching other healers some of her tricks. We were all better for it.”

Senua felt a shiver run down her spine at his words as memories of her own mother were conjured in her mind.

“What happened to her?” Senua felt she already knew.

“For a time, the Goði brought peace to the lands. Protected his people from any harm. But one day, The Tyrant appeared in the settlement. I was there the day it happened. Thórgestr was just a boy. He had been reckless in climbing a tree. He’d hurt himself, and his mother was doing her best to mend him, but he was in and out of consciousness. The Tyrant found them. By some miracle, she was able to hide him under some fallen branches before he struck, but she was not so lucky. He plucked her up, and then she was gone. I don’t think he saw it, or if he did, he wasn’t able to comprehend it. He was unconscious when I found him. It was difficult for Thórgestr to accept her death. He spent a long time denying it.”

Senua breathed in deeply. Something about that story didn’t quite sit well with her. The giant appearing from nowhere to kill Thórgestr’s mother. The Goði’s wife. The first one dead?

“You have known him for a long time then?” She was met with a smile.

“In a sense. Things changed after his mother’s death. In him and within the island. That is when the Goði started taking. We became estranged. This is the most time I’ve spent with him in years.”

That’s why he wanted you to show mercy.

To spare the slavemaster.

To save the boy he knew.

Does that boy still exist?

Not long after, the healer and Fargrimr took their leave. Thórgestr was sprawled out on the bed, attempting to focus on anything but the pain in his leg. The burning in it made his whole body feel uncomfortably warm and his leather felt unpleasantly sticky to his chest. He smiled at her, attempting to appear stronger than he felt in that moment. She saw through it like he had seen through her on the beach just days prior.

She lifted her hand to his forehead. Warm and clammy, it was almost as if a fever had materialized out of nowhere. She set the tea carefully on the floor beside the bed. “Do you want out of your armor?” He nodded his head, failing to find the strength to verbalize his answer.

Her hands reached to help him loosen and remove his top. She set it down gently before picking the tea back up and handing it to him. Reluctantly, he took the cup and drank it as swiftly as he could.

“Can you handle another.” She asked, sweeping the damp strands of his hair back against his head.

“Yes.” He responded, leaning into her comforting touch. His eyes were closed as Senua padded back to the kettle that was currently steeping the rest of the tea. She hesitated, taking one more glance behind her before she changed into linens that were much more suitable for sleep.

She grabbed the kettle and poured him another cup as she settled into the bed besides him, their knees just barely touching. The silence stretched on as he drank. He felt weak in that moment. Vulnerable. He knew from way she was attending to him that she did not judge him, but he judged himself. His mind grew more hazy with every sip.

Shadows grew longer, he felt dizzy. He blinked once. Twice. Then, he was no longer in his bed. No longer gulping down cup after cup of disgustingly bitter tea. No longer savoring every second he felt Senua’s leg pressing into his.

He was alone and cold, wandering aimlessly in near total darkness. While there was some light from a source he could not identify, he couldn’t see anything but the fog swirling around him. That’s when he heard them. The whispers that seemed to grow louder in his ears.

Horrible whispers.

So many voices, some he recognized immediately. Others were not as clear. Altered in only the way an old memory could be.

His father was calling to him, but the tone caused him great trepidation. He followed the sound of his father’s voice confused by the words being spoken. “When we had not heard from you…” , “simpleton”, “Souvenir”. They echoed around over and over again. Still, he marched on. He would be safe with his own father, wouldn’t he?

He kept walking until he came face to face with his father, or, what he thought was his father. The image was distorted, like a reflection in a pond after a pebble is thrown in it. The air had grown so cold, Thórgestr could see his breath. He could see the sword in his father’s hand, too.

“My boy. Why did you have to turn your back on me?”

His blood ran icy and then he ran. As fast and as far as he could. He was in danger. He could feel it like he had when he first came across that slaughtered village with Senua. He did not stop until suddenly he was no longer in the darkness, but falling through branches right onto the forest floor the had appeared below him.

The air left his lungs painfully and he rolled to his back. He stared at the light, scattered by the leaves above him. This time a woman called out to him.

“Thórgestr! Oh, my baby.” She sounded frantic as she cradled his head in her lap, “are you alright? What hurts?” He could not answer her, no matter how hard he tried. He wanted to lift his hands up. To touch the face of the woman peering down at him. A face he hadn’t seen since boyhood. He tried to blink away the tears he had in his vision, wishing to see her clearly for the first time in a long time. He was always told he looked more like her than he did his father. As a child, he did not see it. The sentiment offended him, even. To be compared to a woman when he was a man. As an adult, he was thankful for it because he liked to imagine she was still there with him, peeking through his reflection.

His reunion was over sooner than he was prepared for. He heard twigs snapping. He heard his father yelling again. He heard the hysterical way his mother kept repeating “no”. Then he was being dragged away and hidden in the foliage like a baby deer. He could still see her clearly from where he was as she dashed away from him. She hadn’t gone more than 15 feet when his father came into view. She tried pushing him away when he grabbed her arm but she was not strong enough.

Thórgestr felt a terrible wind, heard it’s howl, and saw it conjure what he feared most.

The Tyrant.

Thórgestr watched as his father forced his mother to her knees and pointed his sword right at her back. “Here! I have your tribute.” He watched in horror as that sword was plunged right through his mother. He didn’t hear a scream. He only heard a thud as she hit the ground. Then, he heard a crunch after the giant took her body and threw it into his mouth.

He felt his vision fading in and out. He heard his mother’s voice once more in his ears. “My son, you have always known. Haven’t you?”

He was floundering now. Drowning in the sea, his eyes stinging as he watched slaves and his men sink beside him. They were reaching out to him. Trying to pull him down even further. He was thrashing now, trying to break free from their grasp.

“Thórgestr.” He heard his name through air bubbles in the water and he saw the face of the mad woman, unclear in the distance, stretching her arm to him. His hand reached out to her, and she grabbed it gently with both of hers. He caressed it before her fingers wrapped around his wrist and yanked him up.

He once again felt himself falling, but this time, when he looked up, he realized he was back lying on the rocky shore where he had first fought Senua. He felt her on top of his chest, her knees squeezing on either side of him. However, when he opened his eyes, she was not holding a rock above his head, ready to end his life.

She was stroking the sides of his face, speaking softly in contrast to the yelling he still could hear in his ears.

“Thórgestr. I am here. Come with me, out of the darkness. The whispers, the visions, I will not let them harm you.” She paused, a tremor making it’s way to her voice. “Come back to me. I know what it’s like, to be trapped in the darkness, seeing all manner of horrors. I shall guide you to the light.”

They were no longer on the beach, but back in the void, surrounded by the fog. Their hands were intertwined tightly and he never wanted to let her go. The more they walked, hand in hand, the brighter his vision became until he was lying down in the bed, safe with Senua within the hut.

He was shaking, his words lost for what felt like the one hundredth time that night. She let go of his hand and threw her arms around his shoulders. Senua pulled him close. He collapsed into her, his head resting on her chest, his arms around her waist as they slowly lied down. He felt the shame crawl up his throat when warm tears streamed down his face and into her linen clothes. She stroked his hair and his back, whishing desperately to bring him the comfort he had brought to her the previous night.

Hold him.

He chose you.

You saved him.

“I have you, Thórgestr. You are safe.”

[myfavoritewordiscat]

Guarding my Post

A little Tears of the Kingdom writing warm-up I did the other day. Enjoy :-)

I hadn’t heard from my superiors in a long time. Usually, one of them would make their way to where I stood, fidget with the technology on the outer shell of my body, relay orders to me, and leave me again to guard my post. As a construct, my sole purpose was to protect the island I now stood on. I wielded only a mere spear, created long ago from the same matter used to weld my body into the shape it was now. I held it firmly in my hands that never tired, in my arms that always stayed strong. And I stood at my post, guarding a sole rock formation that had once been a home to my superiors. It was decrepit now, moss climbing the walls that once kept a home. Vines split apart the rocks and wove themselves into the broken furniture and unused fireplace, acquainting themselves with the stillness.

And yet, I still guarded my post, for my superiors would return one day. They would return in their colorful clothing, with the tassels hanging from their expertly tied robes and the heavy jewelry dangling from their large ears. They would return one day and see that I had done what I had needed to do, I had stayed at my post. Shutting off like the other constructs would be contrary to my orders, I knew I was better and stronger than they were. I had my orders and my superiors had always been kind to me, I would not stray from my duty. 

Activity somewhere on the island. I felt the vibrations in the ground, the disturbance in the way the birds suddenly sprung to the sky. My grip on my spear grew stronger and I strode forward, scanning my surroundings with intent I hadn’t felt in hundreds of years. 

A figure dashed out from the cover of the trees, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that looked older than the home I guarded. A man, much smaller than my superiors, looked around like a cornered animal, with the same bestial paranoia of a feral dog. 

He looked at me, and dashed forward. 

I would guard my post. 

With my spear at the ready, I held my ground as the wild man drew a wooden sword from a scabbard around his waist and circled me. Up close, I analyzed him. Long, blonde hair, sharp blue eyes…. Human? 

I paused my scan. How was a Hylian up here? On my island? 

The man struck forward with his sword, landing a blow once on my head, and another on my side. Though I could not feel pain, I knew something within me was damaged. 

I would not leave my post. 

Swinging my spear above my head with the expertise that was created when I was, I jabbed at the man with all of the might my form could handle. And, I missed. 

The small man leapt away easily, turning with the grace of a bird taking flight, and slashed at me again with his sword. 

I broke apart. Pieces of me scattered across the ground in a wave of metal and bolts and springs. I didn’t know I could crumble so easily. I was destroyed beyond repair, and I could feel my thoughts already dissolving. I felt fear. 

The Hylian man wouldn’t spare another thought for me. He inspected the core that had given me sentience, a poor replica of what my superiors called life. 

And then he was off, leaving my broken body in front of my broken home. 

And I lay there, no longer a construct, but still guarding my post.

[the-fiction-witch]

7th House Reed

Media Game Of Thrones

Character Jojen Reed

Couple Jojen X reader

Rating Sweet + spooky

Halloween day 7

I ventured through the thin corridors of grey green and black, The dark wood festering this damp smell, colours bringing thoughts of moss and mud. But that was to be expected here. I held the skirt of the dress in my hands so the hem avoided the wooden floor. As I walked I found myself straying from a straight line but this place always made me feel that way almost convinced the corridors and halls rocked but I was the only one to ever really notice. Soon enough I arrived at the sweet west chamber seeing the wooden door already open enough for me to enter without a sound. The room is sizeable with black wooden floors, half wood walls with noticeable repairs and fractures given the age of the house, the walls a painted grey-green, the ceiling wooden formed in arches to create the roof that was at its tallest in the centre, the only thing of silver stone the fireplace in the corner with its chimney of a similar mismatched stone, the fire roaring sending gold and red cascading across the room leaving shadows to dance in the dark, the large hand carved wooden bed across the side various green drapery hung from its wooden posts, the bed within made with light cream, green and black fabrics with a few dark green lizard lion skins draped across, a small silver fur at the foot as it hadn't been used much in this warmer weather.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the looking glass as I stood in my black boots with fur toes, my long green dress with slightly lighter green reeds and grass pattern barely visible in the fabric except in slight light changes, waistline at my underbust as this was my maternity dress with higher hems and fluffer fabrics to hide my ever-growing size, a square neckline which honestly didn't hide my still plump breasts with a rim of black fabric, long Juliet sleeves to my wrists in black fabric, My long y/c/h hair braided into so many strand braids I'd frankly lost count with a matching black ribbon braided in and used as a headband across the top of my head. But I caught a better sight as close to the small arched window were two figures. Jojen stood barefoot, dark green pants laced up tightly, his lighter green shirt loose even if it was tucked into his pants but still very loose around him, and in his arms on his hip sat little Olivander dressed only in a long green shirt his blonde hair fluffy fresh from his bath, giggling away as he rubbed noses with his father. The two didn't see me so I smiled happily watching them.

"Alright, time for bed little man" Jojen smiled giving Olivander's head a little kiss as he adjusted the blankets and furs inside the wooden crib and of course, Olivander began to wiggle "I know, I know, but it's bedtime." He said putting him into the crib and immediately he began to cry "Alright, alright, How's about a story then little man? yeah, would that make you happy?" He cooed "Alright then, A lovely little story for a lovely little man." He smiled "Once upon a time…" he began leaning on the crib to better see Olivander and to gently play with his fingers "In the land of Westeros sat a lovely place, beside the bite and southernmost of the north, The neck, Dividing the north from the rest of the seven kingdoms. And sat on the very edge of the trident is a swampy mashy black bog." He explained

"With lizard lions, snakes and poison kisses, dense thickets of trees that sit half-drowned and covered head to toe in pale fungus, the marshy water is thick and dark with quicksand below to quickly drown any who dare walk its waters," he explained "And here in this unforgiving place are the crannogmen, some call them bog devils, frog eaters and mud men. These crannogmen are reclusive souls who dwell in the deep deadly swamps, living in villages formed from reeds and thatch, like floating islands in the crannog mud, they seldom leave their lands choosing instead to fish and forage, for they are talented hunters and warriors. They wield nets, bronze knives, three-pronged frog spears and round leather shields all with a mastery of their monstrous terrain. They are known far and wide as being impossible to conquer due to their skills and poisoned weapons" he explained

"Crannogmen breathe water, have green moss-covered teeth and webbed hands and feet to resemble frogs say the river folk. Ironborn call them bog devils, more swamp than human, some in the north even say that the Crannogmen grew close and even wed children of the forest forever binding them with the earth and its magic." he explained "But those are merely stories, little boy, The truth is not so simple." he said "In this marshy muddy place rose a great house, lords of crannogmen this was Greywater said to be impossible to find as it floats on marshy waters protected by old green magic, Not even ravens can find greywater watch. I was supposedly built by the first marsh king. One of the first of men to Westeros, and first among equals. they say he was touched by the old gods, they say in songs that the old marsh kings would ride lizard lions and wield frog spears to hold moat cailin against those from the south who dreamed to take it. But the marsh kings are no more, the last slain by Rickard Stark the king in the north thousands of years ago, he took the marsh king's daughter for a bride. It is said in some circles that because of the marsh king's daughter, there is old green magic in the blood of all great houses now. Some much more than others."

He explained as Olivander was starting to drift to sleep holding his little lizard lion toy in hand as Jojen tucked the covers around him. "House Reed, has always sat as lords of Crannogmen, a noble house and principal of old northern families and the first men, We have held greywater watch and its lands since the defeat of the last marsh king, we are a small house but ill-forgotten." he said stroking little Olivander's face as he drifted away "You, my angel of a little boy, Are a Reed. Inside you is the blood of the first men, of marsh kings, of the old gods and greensight, of the children of the forest and the black lizard lions, of magic old and new, we swear by ice and fire. You're my son. Everything that I am and everything I have come from is in you, and everything of everyone who has come before you" He explained, "You're going to do great things, little man, you are destined for it." He said giving Olivander's head a small kiss "Sleep well the world shall wait for you" "You shouldn't tell him stories like that" I spoke up making Jojen jump a little "Ohh, there you are y/n. I was wondering where you were" He smiled hushed of course as to not wake Olivander as he came over and wrapped his arms around my waist "You shouldn't tell him stories like that, you'll scare him" "The world is scary little lady, he needs to know that." "Jojen. He's two" "My parents told me when I was his age" "Yes, I've been briefed on their parenting" I glared "I like telling him, it's our history, our family, not my fault all my history is kinda like a scary story" "I know, it's sweet, just… maybe not so spooky Jojen while he's little anyway" "I'll tone it down" he sighed "I suppose I have to it'll be a little too scary for little girl when she comes along" he cooed stroking my bump "Come on let's get you off you're feet" He said picking me up and carrying me to our bed where he tucked me in and sat on the edge stroking and kissing my bump "How is she today?" "She's fine, missed her daddy" "I've missed you both too" He smiled "You had any more ideas for a name for her?" "I have had a few ideas" I smiled stroking my bump too "Ohh enlighten me then?" "Jyana, Like your mother." I smiled moving my hand to sit on his "That's very sweet little lady, but you don't have to do that" "well we'll see, come on let's get some sleep"

[mainstreetstovefireplace]

Stay Warm This Winter with Fireplace Repair in Long Island

Many homeowners will be lighting up their fireplaces for the first time in months as they feel a bit of chill in the air at the start of winter. However, what would happen if your fireplace stopped functioning properly in the middle of the winter? 

Fireplace Repair in Long Island for your home is an investment for the complete enjoyment of your fireplace. Possible dangers like gas leaks and chimney fires are prevented with routine maintenance performed by a certified expert. In addition, a well-maintained fireplace will operate at its best, keeping your house toasty and comfortable throughout the winter and saving you money on energy costs.

Reasons to Get Your Fireplace Serviced:

Protection and Efficiency: You can make sure your fireplace is running safely and efficiently by conducting regular repairs. This includes inspecting for potential risks, cleaning components, and testing the gas pressure. Not only will a well-maintained fireplace keep you warm, but it will also reduce your expensive energy costs. Expert cleaning also improves the aesthetic appeal of your fireplace, letting you enjoy the lovely flames and warm atmosphere it creates for a truly wonderful winter's evening.

Improved Performance: Dust, dirt, and debris build up in fireplaces over time and can cause a variety of issues, including clogged systems that make it difficult to fire up the fireplace. Buildup causes poor flame quality that reduces heat and ambiance and decreases total heat output, making your home feel colder. These problems can be resolved with a professional cleaning, guaranteeing that your fireplace lights up effortlessly, produces lovely flames, and generates enough heat.

Peace of Mind: Relaxation will be gained by routine maintenance performed by a trained expert, especially with gas fireplaces. To ensure reliable and secure functioning, these appliances require specialized knowledge and complicated components. An expert can see possible problems and take care of them before they worsen, giving you peace of mind so you can unwind and take in the coziness and warmth of your fireplace.

Regular scheduling of services offering Fireplace Repair in Long Island will help homeowners make sure their fireplaces are a safe place to stay warm. Expert maintenance will avoid problems like poor flame quality, difficulties starting the fireplace, and decreased heat production. They will also spot possible safety dangers before they become major issues or cause major accidents, like a house fire. This is especially important for older gas fireplaces, as their upkeep calls for in-depth knowledge. You can look forward to pleasant evenings spent taking in the warm light and welcoming atmosphere of a well-kept fireplace throughout the wintertime. To ensure a worry-free and cozy winter, don't wait until the bitter cold snaps; instead, act now and contact a reliable maintenance service.

[suffolklandscapeandmasonry]

The Essential Guide to Masonry Services Contractors in Long Island

Whether you're looking to build a beautiful patio, stone wall, outdoor kitchen, or other masonry project, finding the right Long Island masonry contractor is key. A quality mason has the skills, experience, and eye for detail to transform your vision into reality.

This guide covers tips on choosing the best masonry services contractor in Long Island for stunning, long-lasting results.

What are Masonry Services?

Masonry is both an art and a craft that has been used for centuries to create structures from stone, brick, concrete blocks, tile, and related materials. Masonry Services Contractors Long Island are specifically trained and experienced in working with these heavy, weather-resistant materials to build diverse projects. Common services they offer include:

Constructing or repairing patios, walkways, and driveways

Designing and installing outdoor kitchens, fireplaces, and fire pits

Building custom stone walls, columns, and related hardscaping

Laying brick or natural stone siding and facades

Tile installation for outdoor settings

Creating unique water features and fountains

When considering Long Island masonry contractors, look for ones that specialize in the type of project you have in mind. Outdoor living spaces require different expertise than home siding or chimney construction.

Evaluating Prospective Masonry Companies

With the beauty and investment value quality masonry provides, it pays to do careful research before choosing your Long Island contractor. Key factors to evaluate include:

Relevant Experience

Pay attention to how long contractors have been in business and ask for examples of past work similar to your planned project. Multi-year experience transforming customers' ideas into well-crafted reality is vital.

Staff Expertise

Ask about lead masons' training, credentials, and years of hands-on masonry experience. Top companies hire masons who regularly update skills via certification programs and education. Customer service also matters when working side-by-side with crews.

Project Portfolios

Reputable contractors share rich portfolios of past work across their websites and social media. Evaluating photos of finished patios, stone walls, outdoor kitchens, etc. brings concepts to life while showing attention to detail.

Satisfied Reviews

Third-party review sites as well as testimonials on company websites offer insights into real customer experiences - the good and bad. Be attentive to contractors who go above and beyond to make each project fantastic.

Active Industry Involvement

Look for masonry professionals who give back to their field via trade organizations, education, community service projects, sustainability efforts, etc. Their commitment enriches skills and connections.

Insurance & Licensing

Only consider properly licensed, bonded, and insured masonry contractors in Long Island. This protects you from liability issues or defects down the road. Ask to verify credentials.

Project Planning Approach

The initial consultation and estimate process offers clues to how well contractors plan, communicate, offer ideas, and make recommendations. Quality providers listen closely and offer insights versus just selling services.

Following these guidelines helps narrow options to masonry experts aligned with your vision, budget, and property needs to create the ultimate outdoor living environment.

Tips for a Successful Masonry Project

Constructing custom masonry requires considerable skill, planning, adjustments for weather/soil conditions, and more. Here are tips for a smooth process:

Have a Clearly Defined Vision

Whether designing yourself or hiring a Landscape Design Services Long Island architect, establish details like shape, materials, finishes, colors, textures, and purpose early on. This allows accurate planning.

Choose Sustainable Sources

Using locally quarried stone and brick makes projects greener while showcasing natural beauty. Be sure sources align with environmental values.

Confirm Timelines & Scheduling

Custom masonry often takes weeks or months to complete. Verify project durations, crew sizes, work day commitments, and flexibility for weather upfront.

Prepare the Site Properly

Foundation integrity, drainage, smooth base materials, protecting existing structures/plantings, and an outdoor water source are vital preparations contractors can guide.

Expect Some Hammering/Noise

Masonry is hands-on work involving cutting materials, leveling, quality inspections, and more. Expect manageable noise levels and a clean site.

Stay Involved in Decisions

As work progresses, tweaks to sizing, placement, colors, or patterns often occur. By visiting the site, you can collaborate on customization decisions for superb results. The possibilities for enhancing aesthetics, functionality, and property value through masonry are endless whether building next to ponds or shorelines, amidst gardens, or nestled in the trees.

Expert masons unlock options for stone patios, intricately patterned walkways, elegant pillars and walls, waterfall features, artistic tile installations, custom outdoor kitchens with pizza ovens and fireplaces, plus much more.

Beyond sheer beauty, today's masonry distributions offer strength and durability to withstand years of island weather while avoiding cracking or crumbling issues other materials face over time. Treating yourself and your family to a signature space created via natural stone, brick, or pavers delivers daily enjoyment while adding to resale value.

Final Thoughts

Transforming lackluster landscapes into warm, welcoming entertainment areas Long Island families cherish requires creativity, expertise, and backbreaking effort. By selecting masonry contractors with outstanding reputations, stunning portfolios, and customer-focused service, homeowners can relax while collaborating on concepts until their ideal living space vision comes alive.

Whether building a stone fire pit patio, elegant pool surrounds, or completely reimagining property hardscaping, the resources exist in the island area to achieve success. For those seeking beauty and enduring quality-of-life enhancements through custom masonry, reach out to the Suffolk Landscape and Masonry team. Their artisanship, attention to each customer's unique needs, and passion for possibility make dreams a reality.

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Trial In Exile [Part 1 of 4]

::Summary:: After having agreed to take a year in exile, as the result of an inter Clan conflict, Ysolie must face the often deadly trial of all exiled Blademasters, in order to prove that they are still worthy of their power.

::Content Warning:: Drinking Literal Poison, Death, Coma, SPIDERS, Restraints (lol) Thanks for reading!💙

[<- Previous: Mine Again]

As Ysolie sat within the cold stone walls of their Coerthas room, they let out a nervous sigh, and once again felt grateful for what they had.

It wasn’t much of a room but, they didn’t need much to begin with.

Situated above an old bar combination wartime infirmary, the room was built as officers quarters. Quaint and more private, with its own fireplace, unlike the other colder, draftier, larger rooms down the hall. These rooms once hosted soldiers recovering from injuries, alongside whole parties and squads on their way to the field, as well as the oddball traveler, and they were built more for function than form.

All of them were square, cold, and featured those typical Ishgardian, brutally carved, large square blocks of stone. Each room had sparse furnishing, with no decoration or ornament to speak of, with beds that were more tolerable than comfortable.

Nowadays, Ysolie was the sole occupant of this particular floor on a live in basis. Coerthas itself was considered by most to be too cold, too harsh, and the inn was not soft or welcoming enough for most travelers- especially now that the war was over. Plus, the proprietor of the bar combination infirmary- an ancient Ishgardian Elezen known only as Sawbones- wasn’t exactly sunny company.

Sawbones had their room, in the well insulated and cozy basement of course, and seemed to consider the upper floors basically uninhabitable. They’d even offered to split the lower floor in two by converting the adjoining storage space into a small room, but Ysolie told them it wasn’t worth the effort, especially when there were rooms upstairs.

Unlike the room Ysolie was in, the basement hadn’t had to be rebuilt several times over and was more than comfortable enough to only necessitate wearing a light coat while sitting, so Sawbones figured the kid had caught some kind of madness to want to stay upstairs. Sawbones had seen it plenty of times and hadn’t pushed back on it in this case, especially with all the stuff the kid had brought with them- belongings and bags enough- as if their house had burned down…

In some ways, Ysolie felt that the cold and discomforts of their lonely room were necessary. Discomfort gave them a desire to keep moving, if only to keep a little warmer, and it kept their mind from spiraling into despair. A far flung and nameless island, writ on the raising of gooseflesh on their skin in a cold room, brought them comfortable memories besides. As payment for the room Ysolie took up whatever bounties and tasks the old Sawbones needed doing. They hadn’t had to earn the room, as it had been paid for years ago by the moderately heroic efforts of their former Free Company, but Ysolie felt obligated to support the place anyway.

So they felt they truly needed to work hard to earn this “vacation“ they were about to embark on.

They figured Sawbones probably didn’t give two shits if they took a break, but Ysolie had put in plenty of work for the months leading up to now. Plenty of hard work went into stocking the inn, repairing and de-icing the place, installing fire shard warmers in the roof, and clearing out whatever unhinged beasts needed to be hunted in the local area- which also helped to fill the larder with meat. They had no idea how long this “vacation” was going to take, so they wanted to make sure Sawbones had enough supplies to last the month and a little bit over, as well as enough gil to pay for Melianne’s services to bury them, should it be necessary.

So as Ysolie sat in the silence of their room, as they had for hours waiting for the proper bell, they felt as if they’d done everything possible to prepare for what was ahead.

Before them atop a stone nightstand was a box made of polished wood, deeply dyed blue, studded with black stone cabochons, and host to silver metal in the delicately thin form of spider’s web across its surface. The box wasn’t very large nor was it very heavy, but Ysolie’s hands shook as they lifted it, then placed it in their armored lap. Slowly, they placed their finger against the lock latch, which bore no keyhole. They stared into the glossy black crystal eyes, inset in a carved spider’s head atop the box’s lid, and they breathed.

Now or later, they had to take the trial. They had procrastinated enough. This was the cost of exile.

Within this box was the only way they would be able to go back if they chose to and there was simply no way they could cheat their way out of this- to cheat it was unthinkable.

Thus, with their jaw set and their teeth grit, Ysolie pulsed a small amount dark aether into the lock latch.

Softly, gently, the eyes of the spider atop the box glowed blue, as several soft clicks sounded out in response to the aether, and the locks were released. Apprehensively, Ysolie opened the hinged lid of the box, then gazed down at the contents inside. Within was a single small vial, filled with liquid so dark that the blue of it could only be seen when the light caught it just right. The vial rested atop a folded blue spider silk death shawl, which they knew to be embroidered with a prayer to their god in black and silver thread, from end to end.

Anxiously, they looked toward the door of the room. Three times already they had checked the lock to make sure it couldn’t be accessed by anyone except for Sawbones, who had the only other key to the room. What was to happen next could not be disrupted or disturbed.

They pondered how the exiles of old, those forsaken souls sent into the winding and labyrinthine caverns of their home island, ever managed to find everything they needed for their trials. How had they found Muy-Clgen seeds in enough number to grind into powder then drink- for three days straight- to conduct the necessary ritual cleansing?

What was even more amazing was their locating of places safe enough to take their trial in. One needed to find somewhere secure to be in a trial state for weeks- sometimes closer to a month- and the trial taker couldn’t be disturbed, moved, or forced awake before the trail was completed, so how had Exiles found safety in monster infested tunnels? Hells, even some of the other Exiles were the dangerous sort that would likely murder another in their sleep, just for fun. Had there been teamwork among Exiles? Bargains?

And Ysolie also felt grateful that ice aether was in abundance here. In this part of Coerthas, finding a shard of proper proportions hadn’t been a problem. Home had been cold enough for the sea to freeze, but how had exiles found ice aether crystals beneath the island in the caves below? Answers they would likely never get, for details about the trials of exiles were written of in none of the texts anyone in the Clan brought along.

They could ask their father but, he didn’t need to do this particular trial, and the Blademaster Exiles likely didn’t share the details with him.

Again, Ysolie shook their head contemplatively as they stared toward the door, finally feeling the sense of isolation that Exiles before them must have felt. What their father must have felt at some point too. He was the only one in the Clan still permitted to interact with them, as the last of the surviving Redeemed, but Ysolie hadn’t responded to any of his letters. He had wrote plenty. One or two a week, rather consistently, but Ysolie couldn't bring a pen to parchment in response. Words never came easy to Ysolie and they especially couldn't now. Not under these circumstances. And those letters were simply piling up now, as they had read only the first two, then no more in the months afterward.

For the briefest of moments, Ysolie felt a pull toward writing to him- if only to let him know that they were about to begin their trial. If only to ease the loneliness. They had taken another into their arms, but this was a loneliness so deep and different, that they felt only their own people could soothe it. Only rejoining their people... Quietly they yanked themselves away from the thoughts.

Ysolie knew they were safe here, at least, and not entirely alone technically.

They had told Sawbones the bare minimum- that they were going to be taking a few weeks off from their tasks and working, to take the time to themselves up here in their room, but they couldn’t go into specifics.

Everything they said to Sawbones had been so vague that Ysolie cringed as the words left them. Of course, Sawbones had only regarded Ysolie with their typical inscrutable scowl as the circumstances were explained, but Sawbones had only one response: “Bet’not leave stank corpse, blue-shit. Knees can’t carry ya’s.”

Which was a good enough response. And also very typical. Ysolie felt slightly guilty that they couldn’t give Sawbones much detail- outsiders were not permitted to know much more.

Outsiders…

The word felt funny for a mind in exile and beneath their helm, a smirk fluttered across Ysolie’s lips, before they lifted their visor, as the soft chime of the old clock on the wall rang for the eighth bell.

Taking the vial up, Ysolie gave their actions no more lingering thoughts, before they unscrewed the glass cap, and downed the contents.

There was no taste except that of a tongue and throat immediately numbed, but even that was a passing sensation. Ysolie had to check the vial to be sure they'd even drank the entirety of its contents. Not a drop remained.

Next- for they had to act quickly- they removed the silken shawl from the box before placing the box aside, then turned and threw their legs up onto the bed. Their single shard of crystalized ice aether was placed under their tongue, as they slowly lay back, and settled onto the bed.

They took up their Claymore from next to them, then placed it upon their chest, as their heart began to race. They ran the length of the shawl to pull it taut, then began a complex series of winding and twisting using the silk, their hands, and the Claymore. Using their teeth in a final move to bite down on the end of the shawl, they tightened the material around their armored wrists and hands, until they could pull it no longer.

Gently they tested the ties, ensuring they were bound to their blade and restrained, before relaxing their swirling head back onto the bed. They were tied into a pose fit for a burial, with the tip of their blade pointed toward their armored feet, and their hands firmly secured around the handle.

And then they waited.

[Next: Trial In Exile Part 2 ->]

[masonry6]

Masonry Services in Fairfield, CT: Transforming Your Property with Expert Craftsmanship

Introduction

Fairfield, Connecticut, is known for its picturesque landscapes and historic charm. Nestled on the scenic coastline of Long Island Sound, this vibrant community boasts a rich history, beautiful architecture, and a strong sense of community. If you're a homeowner or business owner in Fairfield, you understand the importance of preserving and enhancing the aesthetic appeal of your property. One way to achieve this is through expert masonry services. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the world of masonry Fairfield, CT, from the services offered to the benefits of investing in professional craftsmanship.

The Art of Masonr Masonry is an age-old craft that involves the construction of structures using materials like brick, stone, and concrete. In Fairfield, CT, masonry services have been pivotal in preserving the historical architecture and creating stunning contemporary designs. Whether you're considering a new construction project, repairs, or a stunning makeover for your property, masonry is the key to achieving enduring beauty and structural integrity.

Masonry Services in Fairfield, CT (Approx. 200 words) In Fairfield, you can find a wide range of masonry services to cater to your specific needs. Some of the most sought-after masonry services include:

Brickwork: Skilled masons can create beautiful brick walls, walkways, patios, and fireplaces, adding a timeless charm to your property.

Stone Masonry: Stone walls, driveways, and outdoor kitchen installations can transform your property into a breathtaking oasis.

Concrete Work: Professional masons can work wonders with concrete, crafting custom steps, pathways, and foundations that stand the test of time.

Restoration: Fairfield's historical properties benefit from masonry restoration services, ensuring that the town's architectural heritage is preserved.

Benefits of Professional Masonry Investing in professional masonry services in Fairfield, CT, offers numerous advantages:

Enhanced Aesthetics: Masonry can significantly improve your property's curb appeal, making it more attractive to visitors and potential buyers.

Durability: Properly executed masonry work is built to last, with materials that withstand harsh weather conditions and the test of time.

Property Value: Your property's value can increase substantially with well-designed and expertly executed masonry projects.

Energy Efficiency: Masonry can improve the insulation of your home, reducing energy bills in the long run.

Low Maintenance: Masonry structures require minimal maintenance, saving you time and money.

Finding the Right Masonry Contractor (Approx. 150 words) To ensure the success of your masonry project in Fairfield, it's crucial to choose the right contractor. Consider factors such as experience, reputation, portfolio, and licensing. Seek recommendations from neighbors, read reviews, and request quotes from multiple contractors to make an informed decision.

Conclusion

In Fairfield, CT, masonry services are a gateway to enhancing your property's beauty, value, and durability. Whether you're restoring a historic gem or creating a modern masterpiece, professional masonry craftsmanship can bring your vision to life. By investing in the art of masonry, you're not only preserving the town's architectural heritage but also creating a lasting legacy for future generations to admire and enjoy. Choose masonry, choose timeless elegance in Fairfield, CT.

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Masonry Services in Fairfield, CT: Transforming Your Home with Timeless Craftsmanship

Introduction

Fairfield, Connecticut, nestled along the picturesque Long Island Sound, boasts a rich history and a vibrant community. This charming town is known for its stunning architecture, where masonry plays a significant role in preserving the area's timeless beauty. In this article, we will explore the world of masonry Fairfield, CT, and how they can transform your home into a masterpiece of enduring craftsmanship. Whether you're considering a new project or looking to restore your existing masonry, this guide will provide you with valuable insights into the services available and the importance of masonry in Fairfield's architectural heritage.

The Art of Masonry in Fairfield, CT (200 words): Masonry is the art of constructing structures using individual units, such as bricks, stones, or concrete blocks, bound together by mortar. In Fairfield, CT, masonry has been an integral part of the town's architectural heritage for centuries. From historic homes to modern developments, the skilled hands of masons have shaped the landscape, giving it a unique character.

Masonry Services Offered in Fairfield, CT (250 words): a. Brickwork: Fairfield's streets are lined with beautiful brick buildings, and masonry professionals in the area excel in brickwork. Services include brick repair, repointing, and new brick construction.

b. Stone Masonry: Natural stone adds timeless elegance to homes. Fairfield's masons are experts in creating stunning stone features, from fireplaces and chimneys to walls and walkways.

c. Concrete Work: For a more contemporary look, concrete is a versatile option. Masons in Fairfield offer concrete services for foundations, driveways, and outdoor patios.

d. Restoration: Preserving the town's historic charm is a priority. Masonry experts in Fairfield specialize in restoring old buildings to their former glory, ensuring they stand the test of time.

The Importance of Masonry in Fairfield's Architecture (200 words): Fairfield's architecture is a testament to the enduring beauty of masonry. From colonial-era homes with classic red brick facades to the grandeur of stone mansions, masonry is a defining element. It not only enhances the visual appeal but also provides durability, weather resistance, and insulation.

Masonry Trends in Fairfield, CT (200 words): In recent years, masonry in Fairfield has seen a resurgence, with homeowners embracing both traditional and modern designs. The trend towards eco-friendly materials and sustainable building practices has also influenced masonry choices, with a growing interest in reclaimed and recycled materials.

Choosing the Right Masonry Professional (150 words): When considering masonry work in Fairfield, it's essential to choose the right professional. Look for experienced masons with a solid reputation, proper licensing, and insurance. Ask for references and examine their portfolio of completed projects. A skilled mason will not only provide exceptional craftsmanship but also offer valuable guidance on design and material choic

Conclusion Masonry is not just a construction method; it's an art that has shaped the architectural landscape of Fairfield, CT. Whether you seek to restore a historic property or embark on a new masonry project, the experts in Fairfield are ready to transform your vision into reality. By preserving the town's heritage while embracing modern trends, masonry services in Fairfield ensure that your home will stand as a testament to enduring craftsmanship for generations to come.

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Custom Outdoor Fireplace | Installation | Repair

If you're looking for a way to enhance your outdoor living space, consider a custom outdoor fireplace. Contact Wheat's Landscape online or call our reliable experts to discuss your options. Our team specializes in custom outdoor fireplace design and installation using the best materials to create an attractive outdoor fireplace or fire pit that fits your budget. Our custom outdoor fireplace in design is the perfect addition to your backyard. Our team of experts at outdoor fireplace in Long Island can help our landscaping company create the ideal outdoor fireplace that suits your taste and enhances your yard's beauty. We offer multiple standard options for you to choose from, but if you want to add extra flair, our round grove products are the perfect option.    

Our custom outdoor fireplace in Nassau is the perfect addition to any backyard or patio. With options for custom fireplace screens and doors, as well as an antique brass waxed finish, our solid brass fireplace matches the rustic vibe of any yard. We also offer fire pit installations and materials to provide warmth and ambiance for many years outdoors. For those who love goats, our great goats custom fire pit is a popular choice. A custom outdoor fireplace can enhance your outdoor living space and provide the perfect campfire-style gathering space for family and friends. It allows you to enjoy the warmth and comfort of an outdoor fire without having to settle for a basic round masonry fire pit. With a custom fireplace, you can choose from various designs and styles to create a built structure that suits your yard's size and style. The fire brick interior, lined firebox, pit fire ring, and masonry fire make it safe and efficient while providing 360-degree seating. A custom outdoor fireplace can be the focal point of your yard, providing joy for you and your family throughout the year.    

Custom outdoor fireplace in Long Island is the perfect solution for creating a unique and personalized outdoor space. Whether you want a custom fireplace that is built to match the style of your home or structures outdoor kitchen designs, a personal fireplace advisor can help you create the perfect outdoor fire feature. From pit outdoor fireplaces to customize fire pits, there are many options available to fit any budget and design preference. Outdoor fire solutions can be used for various occasions such as tastings halloween parties, or for everyday enjoyment with family and friends. Architects, landscape professionals, designers architects, landscaping outdoor pool installations, restaurants apartments are all able to offer custom concrete structures including round fire pits.    

A custom outdoor fireplace is the perfect addition to any outdoor room. Whether you need warmth or just want to add a beautiful focal point, a quality built fire will compliment your complete design and support your surroundings. Warning: once you install an outdoor fireplace, it may quickly become the center of attention and the talk of the neighborhood. Architects, landscape professionals, designers, and even restaurants and apartments are all offering custom concrete structures including round fire pits to enhance any outdoor addition.

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5 reasons, you should invest in custom joinery

Modern homeowners are making notable investments in custom joinery and cabinetry and with good reason. It is tempting compared to store-bought furniture because it combines premium materials, skilled craftsmanship, and—most importantly—the flexibility to customize the product's design to reflect your tastes and lifestyle while fitting precisely into your space. Additionally, custom woodwork might increase the overall economic value of your house, especially when compared to other ready-to-assemble furniture products. One of the key reasons to invest in bespoke joinery in Essex is the impression it gives to potential home buyers. It eliminates the need to buy traditional furnishings while giving the house an upscaling vibe. But that's not just it. Here are the top 5 reasons custom joinery can be the best choice for your home.

Long-term costs are lower. Custom joinery is made to last, from the seams to the handles. Stock cabinets are often constructed using screws and glue, and low-quality materials. Because bespoke woodwork is made as per order, you can be sure that the final product will be useful and match the style and atmosphere of your current home.

Create it yourself You can design cabinets using the customization procedure to suit your style choices and way of life. By choosing a bespoke Essex joinery, you will have full control over the positioning, height, depth, and width and the functionality's optimization for your demands. Your project's cabinet door types, coatings, and hardware should ideally match your existing home and way of life. A qualified design consultant can help you choose some design elements for your interiors. Stock cabinets cannot compete with this degree of quality and customization for custom joinery.

Pack storage in every available room. Have you ever promised yourself you'd one day discover the ideal cabinet for that location? Several years later, is it still unoccupied? Save your money by not wasting space! Stock cabinets cannot be made to meet your precise proportions, but custom cabinets can. There is no wasted space when it comes to bespoke joinery in Essex. Custom cabinets may offer a solution for any location, whether adding extra storage under a bookcase, next to the fireplace or concealing office storage beneath a stairway.

Raising your home's value Over 60% of people have experienced buyer's regret after purchasing a home with insufficient storage for our purposes. This is because ready-to-buy furniture frequently fails to make optimal use of all available space. Because intelligent purchasers increasingly seek homes with clever storage solutions, homes with custom joinery frequently command a higher price at auction. The quality of custom joineries reflects in their strength and performance.

Unlike anything You will have cabinets that are exclusively yours because they are all custom-built for you and your home, including drawers, open shelves, niches or workplaces, storage, and kitchen islands. Custom Essex joinery and cabinetry are made to last longer. When maintained properly, they require less maintenance and repairs over time than alternatives of lower quality.

Where to Go for Custom Joinery in Essex? An important aspect of investing in custom joinery is trusting the right agency. Custom joinery, cabinets and furniture are a one-time investment. It would be best if you made it right, once and for all. This is why Burton Joinery & Burton Laminates may be your ideal choice. If you want to create your home uniquely, need something with greater functionality and comfort, or have an oddly shaped space, they are your go-to option. If you want to learn more about custom cabinets but are unsure where to begin, call or mail to schedule a design consultation with their specialist.