#outdoor bench cushions

[thecushioncompanynz]

Enjoy outdoor relaxation in any weather with waterproof sun lounger cushions by The Cushion Company. Comfort and durability combined!

[cushioncoveruk]

Outdoor Comfort: Is It Safe To Leave Garden Bench Cushions Outside?

Creating a tranquil outdoor sanctuary entails more than just selecting plants and arranging your garden furniture. The garden seat cushion is an unsung champion of outdoor comfort. As we attempt to make our outdoor areas an extension of our homes, one frequently asked issue is: Is it safe to keep garden bench cushions outside? This post delves into the complexities of outdoor comfort,…

[glitter-and-be-gay]

any bed can be a day bed if you’re ✨very tired✨ and ✨very brave✨

[professorsteampunk]

Traditional Patio Ideas for a mid-sized, classic backyard patio renovation that includes a fire pit and a pergola

[zebravalis]

Patio Fire Pit

a small transitional backyard concrete paver patio with a fire pit and no cover is an example of the style.

[golly-missmolly]

Transitional Patio in Dallas A mid-sized transitional backyard patio remodel featuring a fire pit, decking, and a pergola is inspired by this.

[heyitswil]

Transitional Bathroom

White floor and single-sink alcove shower with shaker cabinets, blue cabinets, one-piece toilet, white walls, undermount sink, quartz countertops, hinged shower door, white countertops, niche, and built-in vanity. Small transitional kids' bathroom.

[deshiknaves]

Contemporary Deck in New York Mid-sized trendy rooftop rooftop deck photo with no cover

[zipcushions]

 Don't settle for ordinary seating options – elevate your comfort with ZIP Cushions with our unbeatable Memorial Day Sale offer. Shop now at ZIP Cushions and seize the offer!

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Animal Farm: Wednesdays

Male Yandere Centaurs x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Dubcon, big flaring centaur dick, a second big flaring centaur dick, general yandere behavior, belly bulge from semen and big flaring centaur dick, mentions of musk Word count: 1k (The long awaited third day of the farm harem series Animal Farm, the centaurs! The first fic, along with the others, can be found HERE.)

It was Wednesday. And Wednesdays meant two things. Tyrig and Fargrin. The two muscular centaurs that would be pounding you damn near senseless. By the end of the day, you knew from prior experience, you would scarcely be able to stand. Let alone walk.

After managing to pull yourself away from the dogmen you took a shower. You wiped the cum and sweat from your body. Not that it would matter... you would have a new layer of semen and musk on you soon enough. Evidently you took a bit too long because you were yoinked out suddenly by one of the centaurs. Tyrig.

You shivered as you were exposed to the early outside air with wet skin.

“Awe, are you cold? Don’t worry we’ll warm you up~”

He flung you onto his back and you had no choice but to grab his torso and get close for warmth and stability as he galloped over to the black-furred centaur Fargrin. His black fur and white hair looked pristine, as if he had just bathed as well.

They talked a bit and Fargrin trotted off briefly and came back with his blanket before draping it around you, covering you in his strong musky scent. Apparently they had decided against retrieving your clothing today.

You sighed and held the blanket tightly around you. You were plucked off Tyrig and placed on the comfy bench they had made for you.

“I am going to win this time for sure!” Said the blonde horse Tyrig.

Fargrin only responded with a short laugh.

This was their little custom. Every Wednesday the first thing they would do was have a race around the farm between the two of them. The winner got to be the first to bulge your belly with centaur cock and a massive load of cum.

As usual they were neck and neck the whole time. Fargrin managed to pull ahead at the last possible second. He came trotting towards you with a grin on his face. You climbed on him, knowing he would want a good run with you, always enjoying some outdoor time before a good fuck.

You clung to him tightly, your hands on his muscular abs, while he ran for a bit.

When he was ready to move on to love making he joined his fellow centaur and they took you with them into their dwelling, an upgraded stable-like building. Given all the comforts a human would expect, though everything was much larger to accommodate the inhabitants.

At least it was warmer inside.

You wanted to just get it over with so you took your place on the “sawhorse” A cushioned bench that had rests for your arms and legs. It brought you up to the perfect height for the centaurs to breed you.

“Someone’s eager,” Fargrin remarked with a smirk.

You let out a weary sigh.

“Just to get it all over with.”

Tyrig snorted as he watched Fargrin prep you.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to remain silent as Fargrin lubed up your entrance before starting the long process of stretching you out and warming you up before the massive invasion of his cock. He worked quickly, but carefully. Eager to slip inside you, but wanting to be careful not to hurt you. His cock came out of his sheath and smacked against his underbelly in anticipation. He knew you were ready when his hand and part of his arm could enter you without trouble.

When you were prepped he stood over you as you lay on the sawhorse and pressed his gargantuan cock against your entrance. You winced in discomfort, but it didn’t hurt very much at all. The side effect of all the monster-man semen was that it made you unnaturally stretchy and resilient. It was potent stuff.

Once you could take his full length he spared no time in beginning to pound you properly, his cock making a perfectly visible outline in your stomach as it bulged you out. His massive balls smacked into you loudly, stinging you a bit with each thrust.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he railed you. Tyrig watched with an erection, eager for his turn to rearrange your insides. Both of them chuckled at the perverted moans you let out as your body quivered in orgasm.

“Sh-shut up…”

You blushed deeply as Fargrin continued until finally his tip flared and his balls moved as he emptied them into you, the tip of his cock visibly twitching in your stomach before he eventually pulled out with a loud squelch. Cum came flooding out of you as he did so.

Okay Tyrig, all yours. Now it was Fargrin’s turn to just watch.

Tyrig had no need to prep you or use any amount of lube, the other centaur’s cum would work just fine to ease his cock into you. His cock drooled precum, hungry for your depths after watching the earlier spectacle. You blushed when an involuntary gasp left your lips as he mounted you.

“F-fuck…”

“Heh, you know you love it~”

You whimpered but said nothing in response. You didn’t trust yourself not to just moan incoherently if you tried to speak because at that moment he decided to pick up the pace. It wasn’t too long before you were panting and shuddering, your overly stimulated body trapped in the painful bliss of another orgasm.

“You’re such a lovely cock sleeve!”

He grunted he added his considerable load to what was left of Fargrin’s inside you. Your belly looked pregnant as your hole leaked musky semen all over the place.

You lay there limply. Too sore and sensitive to be able to move. They took you into the shower with them and cleaned you thoroughly, Tyrig pressed your face into his bulging muscular chest as the water rinsed the soap from your limp body. When they finished with that they made you some food and fed you lovingly.

That way you were well fed and cleaned. After all, if they wanted to put you through round 2 you had to keep your energy up and be clean so they could have fun getting you dirty again.

[sepiasims]

3/4 Bath Bathroom in Los Angeles Example of a mid-sized trendy 3/4 gray tile and cement tile cement tile floor and double-sink alcove shower design with recessed-panel cabinets, white cabinets, a one-piece toilet, white walls, an undermount sink, quartz countertops, white countertops and a freestanding vanity

[thecushioncompanynz]

Elevate your outdoor comfort with our large cushions & chic covers in NZ. Transform your space into a stylish oasis. Shop now for the ultimate outdoor experience at The Cushion Company NZ!

[cushioncoveruk]

Outdoor Lounge Seat Cushions: A Must-Have for Your Stylish Outdoor Space

When it comes to creating an inviting and relaxing outdoor space, few elements are as essential as comfortable seating. Whether you have a sprawling garden, a cozy balcony, or a spacious patio, outdoor lounge seat cushions play a vital role in enhancing your outdoor experience. The Cushion Company UK understands the importance of these cushions in transforming your outdoor space into a haven of…

[girlkisser13]

dionysus cabin headcanons

children of dionysus

• HUGE theater kids.

• being highly emotional, wine children make great actors.

• they throw the best parties.

• they have extra beds in their cabin for people who pass out and can't handle their liquor.

• when one of them is upset, others around them get upset too, due to dionysus having influence on the mind.

• they hate the indoors and prefer open spaces.

• even when sober, they can't pass a breathalyzer test because they naturally have the scent of wine on them.

• they are all great cooks and know which wine to pair with each meal.

• they are all very good at directions and are rarely lost (a blessing from their stepmother).

• gender fluidity is common with dionysus kids.

• they all have thick, curly hair and strange color eyes.

• they are prone to depression and anger and are often bipolar.

• daughters of dionysus are rare so they are as powerful as big three kids (canon in the myths).

• they are harder to charmspeak due to their connection with the states of mind.

• arguments last for months because anger runs in their blood and the wine influence makes it worse.

• when they’re sad, they can make vines wilt by just looking at them.

• on very rare occasions, wine children can be born with the ability to affect another's mental state temporarily.

• this ability makes them feared by many, because they can cause hysteria and hallucinations, but they are also sought out by some suffering from depression or anxiety to help relax them.

• they get really thirsty really easily. they always have a bottle of water on hand.

• they are able to recognize all kinds of alcohol with just a sniff, but they all hate wine-tasting.

• they can automatically tell if a beverage has been tampered with, laced with something unwanted or if the ingredients used to make said alcohol are not safe for consumption.

cabin exterior

• the cabin is draped in grapevines and ivy, with the plants growing in a seemingly chaotic yet aesthetically pleasing manner.

• the exterior features vibrant and rich colors like deep purples, greens, and golds. they are reminiscent of a vineyard in full bloom.

• their cabin has a rustic, almost ancient greek villa vibe, with wooden beams, stone walls, and terracotta roof tiles.

• strings of fairy lights, lanterns, and other festive decorations hang around the cabin, creating a lively, celebratory atmosphere even when there's no party.

• comfortable outdoor furniture like hammocks, cushioned chairs, and wooden benches are scattered around for lounging and socializing.

• the doors in their cabin occasionally change colors and vines tend to move on their own.

cabin interior

• their cabin is almost entirely purple on the inside, which makes everything a little bit dark and dramatic. it's also usually very cool and damp inside- the perfect climate for storing wine.

• plush, comfortable furniture in rich fabrics and colors create a cozy yet opulent atmosphere. think velvet couches, silk cushions, and ornate rugs.

• they have a central bar area with stools and a variety of non-alcoholic drinks (and a secret stash of wine). nearby, they have a lounge area with low tables, bean bags, and cozy chairs for socializing and relaxing.

• soft, warm lighting from chandeliers, lanterns, and fairy lights create a magical, inviting ambiance. there are also be candles and fireflies in glass jars scattered around.

• the interior also features plenty of natural elements, like potted plants, hanging vines, and flowers. some walls might even have living plants growing on them.

• decorations include garlands, streamers, and masks hanging from the walls and the ceiling, giving the cabin a perpetual party vibe.

• the walls are adorned with art pieces, ranging from classical paintings to more whimsical, modern interpretations of dionysian myths. sculptures of satyrs, nymphs, and other mythological creatures are scattered around the cabin.

cabin traditions

• when a child of dionysus falls in love, it's a cabin tradition that they give their partner a hideous leopard print shirt.

• they put on regular plays, improv sessions, or storytelling nights, often featuring greek and roman myths and tales related to their father.

• new wine children undergo a playful initiation rite, involving a series of fun challenges and games, ending with a toast (with grape juice) welcoming them into the cabin.

• inspired by traditional wine-making, they hold an annual grape-crushing competition, with teams competing to crush the most grapes by stomping on them, followed by a big party to celebrate.

divider by @plutism

[sirenmoth]

Monster Mash - Satyr

CW: Outdoor sex, Gentle sex, voyerism, thigh grinding, thigh riding, spanking, hand job, cum as lube

Monster Mash Masterlist

<- Previous || Next ->

The garden at the far end of the property was beautiful, different flowers grew wind and luscious of different sizes and colours combined with various trees where the birds liked to nest. It's a sanctuary for the Satyr, who usually spent his time here away from the chaos of the manor, sometime you would join him in this bliss. In a small wooden cabin that was barely big enough for two, hidden under a large oak tree and some forget-me-not flowers.

You always say it looks like a fairytale cottage. A place in a dream.

The collections of flowers, both wild and planted, laid in large and small mismatch patches around the garden, creating a natural feel, mixed with the trees of various types, both big and tall and small and wide, casts shadows in all the right places for a midday nap. A moon-gate archway sat at the entrance of the garden, giving it the final tough of a whimsical fairytale dream. Sitting to watch the birds and butterflies, the early morning insects or the nighttime fireflies is always your favourite pastime, a break from being tossed around like a toy between your monster lovers, not that you minded the life you live.

The manor sat in the middle of the large property, to the north of the large patch of land is a wide open pasture, the Centaur has his own barn and stable combo to go with the field he can run around in, and to the south was a massive lake-ocean for your Siren and Merman, the cool saltwater body complete with a sand beach and underwater caves and caverns. To the east is the Naga's burrow, made of rock and mud and sand, despite that it was still warm and homely, the Satry's cabin and garden was to the west, a border separating the four sections as a mutual resect for each other's territory.

The both of you at on the porch, on a wooden bench that overlooked the wild overgrowth, your partner played his panpipes all while occasionally tapping one of his hooves to the rhythm he was creating.

It was peaceful, calm, tranquil, Everything you could've asked for, relaxing in the rays of the sun, listening to the birds above in the trees sing and chip their songs in tune with the creature next to you was emitting. You felt at peace, tugging the oversized woollen blanket tighter around your shoulders, wearing liminal or no clothing was the better option when you never know when you're going to be bent over and stuffed next, plus most of your lover wore liminal or no clothing.

Closing your eyes, leaning back onto the woven cushions that decorates the bench, resting your head on the Satyrs left shoulder carefully as to not disturb his melody, a short sounding like heaven right now.

The music from the pipes stop, followed by a soft chuckle, "Not falling asleep on my, are you?" the creature next to you laughs, setting the pipes down on the table in front of him and pulling you into his lap, facing him and forcing you to rest your head on his chest.

"No, I'm just resting my eyes." You mutter, moving your arms up and around his neck, allowing him into your blanket cocoon. The wool blanket was enormous and dwarfed you, dragging along the ground and trailing behind you every time it draped it over you, it drowns you in its softened fabric that was hand-woven together with such care and was a gift from your orc from one of his many travels. You feel the Satyrs' hands hold your waist, leisurely stroking your skin in feather-like touches. Nuzzling into his neck, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of his neck, you move to straddle his left thigh, feeling his plush yet coarse fur underneath you. The Satry locks his arms around your waist and interlocking his fingers together behind your back to keep you in place, the two of you sit and enjoy the last of the birdsongs and late-day warmth.

His hands disconnect and move to your ass, slowly kneading the flesh in his hands in slow movements. Flinching after a practically hard squeeze, rock your exposed clit against his thigh you're straddling, the fur catches your bundle of nerves. Burrowing your face into the Satyrs neck as he continues to squeeze and knead the globes of your asschecks, his blunt nails leaving crescent marks in their wake as you whimper from the combined sensations of his hands and fur bumping against you.

"You like this? Grinding against my leg, getting my fur all wet with your slick?" He teases, landing a hard slap to your right butt cheek, rubbing over the now redden mark left behind where the Satyrs hand made contact. Moving your head down, still keeping your forehead pressed against his skin, arms still around his neck, you spot an appearing damp patch of now clumping fur from where you've been sitting, the sight alone makes you moan out loud softly. The woollen blanket slips down a bit from your shoulders, pooling around your waist and his thighs, the ends still held tight in your hands. The Satyr laughs, roughly squeezing the flesh in his hands at your hip and rear, guiding you to grind gently against him, forcing you back and forth and down onto the wet clutch of fur over and over and over.

Tangling your fingers though his hair, the Satyr bends his neck forward to leave butterfly kisses on your neck as his nails dig deeper into your skin. A sudden breeze of cold air rushes through the garden, rustling the tree leaves and sending shivers down your spine, causing you to remember how exposed you are for all to see. The wind didn't seem to bother the goat-hoofed man, simply returning the sheet of coloured strands of woven wool back onto your shoulders and securing it in place, neatly smoothing down the fabric before returning his hands back under the cloth to return them to their previous places.

"Can't have my sweet songbird getting cold now, can I?" The Satyr whispers in your ear, "Not before I've had my fun with you." The leg you're currently straddling starts to lightly bounce, causing you to gentle rock forward and back. His hoof tapping a hollow rhythm agasint the wooden planks of the porch decking, possiblely denting the wood. Running a hand down his torso and midsection, tracing the happy trail and following it down towards his sheth hidden amonsgt the short hair, rubbing a hand over it in time with your movments

The Satry buries his head further in the crook to your neck, muffling his groans as you play with his balls, massaging them in your hand, keeping on his shoulder for leaverge, toying with his emerging cock. Stroking up and down, thumbing over the leaking tip and smearing his warm pre-cum over your hands and down his dick, using it as lube to speed up your movemnts. You both move in tandem, each time you rock your hips, you move you hand up, dragging your thumb over the tip every few stroke to collect the fresh white fluid spilling out before moving your hand back down, occasilny playing with the Satrys hanging sack.

The Satyr dig his fingernails in further into your skin, fresh bruises and deep crescent marks appering that are sure to cause a few bets and competitons between your monster lovers that will last for weeks. You moan after he bounces his leg faster, the wood under his tapping hoof creaks and groans at the pressure of the Satry exsecntric movments, the thoughts of a dent in the boards is now proven right when you hear a faint crack. An abrupt, sharp thrust forward and the stinging feeling of a hand coming in sharp content with flesh, making you jump and thighs to tighten around his in pleasure.

Another and another and another.

One right after the other, forcing you to flinch and squirm against his hold, the imprint of his fingers darkening the more they dig in to keep you still. The Satyr moves his head from your neck to lock his lips with yours, tongue dancing with yours as you moan and groan and whimper, exploring deep inside your oral cavity, sloppily, as you both let yourselves get lost in the waves of pleasure and each others embrace, the sounds of the birds and wildlife bleeding into the background of your little bubble, the noise ringing in your ears as your blood roars in your ears, mixing with your raging heartbeat in your chest.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, thighs clamping around his furry thighs as you shake, soaking the Satyrs hair further as you detach your spit-covered lips from his, head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream, hand still working along his cock until he joins you in pure orgasmic bliss, shooting his load over where his skin meet his fur and your hand, that's still slowly pumping his dick until he's shooting blanks. Both sitting, basking in the late-day sun just peeking over the horizon bleeding oranges and pinks and reds along the sky that makes your skin glow, the Satyr moves his hands around your waist again to re-interlock his fingers behind your back, pulling you closer towards him, not caring about the mess on his torso or on his thigh.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, one hand still slightyl covered in his cum, the woolen blankent cocooning you again from the chill of the early night air. The Satry humming a gentle lullaby to soothe you into a peacful sleep, to which you happily accept, safe in his arms and in your shared sanctury.

[violettduchess]

I would like to request Chevalier and the prompt lullaby!

A/N: Here you are, anon! This is an entry for me and @lorei-writes Sunshine and Starlight Creation Challenge.

Chevalier x Reader

tw: pregnancy, baby

WC: ~1k

Baby mine, don’t you cry / Baby mine, dry your eyes / Rest your head close to my heart / Never to part, baby of mine

The sun sets, running its pink and orange fingertips across the darkening sky. You lean further back in the cushioned rocking chair, resting your hands on the swell of your midsection, deeply content.

Chevalier had noticed how often the fresh air and view of the exquisite palace gardens seemed to soothe you when you felt ill or especially tired or when you just needed a moment away from the chaos of the day. He decided he would make sure to give you a comfortable way to enjoy the outdoor respite from the wide, stone balcony off your bedroom. Without informing you of his plan, he had commissioned an extraordinary rocking chair from a master woodworker, a man whose name was almost legendary throughout Rhodolite for his craftsmanship and attention to detail. In the end, he presented the king with a pale wooden rocker inlaid with soft, green velvet cushions and adorned with delicate carvings of roses and small garden creatures peeking out from behind the delicate petals. The king was pleased.

The rocking motion usually helps calm the restless baby stretching its limbs in its limited space, but tonight, despite the gentle rocking, it still continues its fidgety movements. “Oh, little one, what’s wrong?” With a sigh, you begin singing quietly, a song about treetops and cradles and breaking boughs, while rubbing over the spot on your bump that a tiny foot keeps insistently kicking.

You’re so lost in the moment that only the shifting of the shadows alerts you to the fact that Chevalier is there. He’s been watching you, head tilted as if studying a curious riddle or an interesting passage in a book. “Does singing really help calm the child?” Smiling while still continuing to sing, you reach out for him, taking his hand when he is within reach and placing it on your belly. Sure enough, the movement has slowed, the uneasy thrashing having faded away to a mild shifting of position. He glances from his hand to you, listening to the gentle sound of your singing. It seems he has more preparations to make.

Little one, when you play / Pay no heed what they say / Let your eyes sparkle and shine / Never a tear, baby of mine

He has many music books delivered to join his already impressive collection. Lullabies from Jade, Obsidian, Iolite, Benitoite, and Amber, just to name a few. His elegant fingers drift purposefully over piano keys, learning their melodies, the valleys and peaks of their notes. He can play them all impeccably, without sheet music, within a week. You watch him from the doorway of the sunlit music room, taking in the lines of his broad shoulders, the curve of his hands as they play, the fall of his pale hair across his forehead. As the last notes fade into nothingness, he turns to look at you. “And? Which children’s song do you think our child will favor?” He reads the expression that crosses your face before you can school it into something neutral. His lips turn down in a slight frown. “You’re not pleased.”

Sighing, you make your way over to the piano bench, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s not that. I think it’s really wonderful that you’ve learned so many songs for our baby.” He turns to look over his shoulder, blue eyes questioning. “But?” You give his strong shoulders a light squeeze, your baby bump brushing against his back. “It’s too perfect. Too practiced. A lullaby doesn’t have to be so flawless. It should come from the heart.”

Again a small frown. You answer it with a tender smile, cupping his cheek. “Nevermind. Our child is so very lucky to have such a thoughtful father.” You place a kiss right on the line of his cheekbone. “Come, let’s go and see what treasures the new delivery of books has for us.” Chevalier allows his wife to take his hand and pull him from the bench, but your words echo through his mind. 

And suddenly, he knows what he must do.

If they knew all about you / They’d end up loving you, too / All those same people who scold you / What they’d give just for the right to hold you

Three Months Later

You’re in the exhausted, deep sleep of new parenthood. So tired that the natural, internal alarm that usually shakes you awake when your daughter cries doesn’t work. You remain in the dark void of dreamless slumber. Instead, it's Chevalier who pushes back the covers, crossing the darkened bedroom to where she is stirring, mewling like a kitten as she kicks her tiny legs. He reaches down into the white cradle, carefully lifting her out and with a glance at your sleeping form, gently lifts her to him, resting her against his shoulder before walking out onto the balcony and into the warm, summer night. Above, the stars twinkle, bright and diamond-like against an indigo sky. The scent of roses lingers in the air.

“You were fed not an hour ago, child.” He speaks softly as he lowers his long body into the rocking chair, one hand patting her little bottom. “And it seems everything is still dry.” She lets out a sigh, a shudder rolling through her as she wiggles in his arms. Chevalier begins rocking slowly back and forth, running his large hand up and down her small back. “Perhaps a song, hmm?”

Closing his eyes, he breathes in her newborn scent, still surprised by how comforting it is, how the feel of her in his arms fills his heart like an explosion of summer roses. Laying his cheek lightly against her downy hair, he starts singing, his voice low and tender like the warm wind through the branches of a willow tree.

“From your hair down to your toes / You’re not much, goodness knows / But you’re so precious to me / Sweet as can be, baby of mine.”

The words Clavis taught him, the very same lullaby his mother Leticia always sang when putting her golden-eyed son to bed, live on, drifting up into the summer sky to join the cavalcade of stars.

Note: The lullaby is from the movie Dumbo and you can find it here (have tissues ready)

Taglist: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey

@mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight

@ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea

@chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating

@portrait-ninja @starlitmanor-network @sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing

@nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @ozalysss