#sofa makers near me

[hasansstudios]

Welcome to Hasan's Studio Furniture Store, Pune's premier furniture destination. Enter the showroom and immerse yourself in the world of beauty, where each piece tells a story of style and sophistication. Discover our Hasan Decor furniture collection and find the perfect pieces to decorate your home.

[jaipursofacorner]

10 Color Combinations Psychology in Sofa Selection

Whether you visit a sofa maker near me or find a trustworthy Sofa Set Manufacturer in Mansarovar, Jaipur, you can make a perfect selection if you understand the psychological impact of the colour combinations.

Read More:- https://jaipursofacorner.livepositively.com/10-color-combinations-psychology-in-sofa-selection/

[reds-writings]

rust cohle headcanons

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: here's some more rust brain rot on my behalf <3 feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: implications of sex, light cursing, etc. let me know if i missed anything! (minors shoo!)

word count: roughly 1k

-----

adding to the headcanon floating around of him being an acts of service type man through and through. yes, he can go on neverending tangents but sometimes words about his more sentimental/mushy feelings are better demonstrated by him being at your near beck and call whenever you’re in need

you don’t even have to directly ask him to do anything. it’s more like if you were to mention offhand that something in your car didn’t sound right or your fence needed some redoing they’d find themselves fixed within the coming days without so much as another word 

that man is crafty and i cannot be convinced otherwise! the little beer can people he made are just a small example of what he can do with his hands. one day in town you saw a beautiful chestnut dining table but it was just a tad out of your price range so you figured you’d save up a little more for it and get it the next time you stopped by 

rust had some downtime (more like made downtime during his bouts of extreme insomnia) and got to building. it was a while after and by that time you had long forgotten about the table you saw until one day you got home from work only to find an ornately designed table in your dining room. it was a bit different than the one you’d spotted at the shop but no less beautiful. in fact it was even more gorgeous with its polished shine and intricate details 

you had searched for a note or maybe even a sign left anywhere of the maker that it came from to then spot a neatly carved ‘RC’ underneath one of the tabletop’s lefthand corners 

your fingers grazed over the simple set of initials as your brain damn near short-circuited at the fact that this man built you a damn table. with his bare hands. rust cohle saw that you liked a table and decided to just make it himself

you’d made your way to the receiver on your wall after snapping out of your disbelief and rang him up

“You built me a table.” You said it more as a statement than a question instead of a normal greeting.

“I did.” His tone held no sense of pride or smugness at your shock. As if this were no big deal at all.

“You built me a table. When did you have time to build me a whole table? In fact, when’d you start bein’ able make tables in the first place-”

“D’ya like it?” He interjected in that lackadaisical way of his and you paused. 

“...I love it.” 

“Good.” 

“Well, I guess then it’d only be fair for me to invite you over for dinner so that we may put this lovely new table to good use. As thanks of course.” 

You heard him huff in fond amusement on the other line, “Yes, ma’am.” 

y’all put that table to good use alright 

he’s more of a grappler than a cuddler when it comes to sharing a bed

he holds you as if in need of tethering himself. it was as if he were to let go somehow this wouldn’t be real and your presence would flit away should he loosen his grip at any given moment 

if you get too hot in the night any point of minimal contact was still initiated like tangling your foot with his or linking pinkies just so he knew you were nearby (this happens longer down the line in your relationship when he feels a bit more comfortable having someone in his space a bit more constantly) 

quality time together isn’t necessarily always spent doing something totally stimulating or exciting 

it could be as simple as cooking dinner together or curling up on your sofa while he reads and you watch something soapy on television 

he’s a very private man so going out to do something super couple-y isn’t really up his alley. he won’t really ever deny you if you wanted to really switch it up and go to places like bars, the movies, fancy restaurants, etc. he’d just find himself more reserved in more public spaces but no less completely and utterly focused on you

he’s not much of a dancer but don’t get it twisted. his ass can dance. the man is from Texas so you best believe he has more than a few line-dancing routines ingrained in the depths of his mind

on the very few occasions you’ve gotten him to agree to dance with you when you’re out you nearly laugh every time with how seriously he takes it 

you find yourself cooking food for him often. not that he ever expects it of you but living off of cigarettes and beer can only do so much for a guy. he genuinely forgets that his body needs a meal when he gets all caught up in his work (you don’t bother nagging at him much because he’s grown and more stubborn than anything at times) 

if you aren’t available to check in on him you’re not above making Marty grab something for him when they’re stuck at work 

any kiss he gives you is not one made in passing. anything rust does has some level of deep intent behind it but he never kisses you or says ‘i love you’ out of routine or empty habit

he’s a deeply feeling guy and a lot more handsier the longer you’re together (usually still only in the privacy of your own home). it goes back to just having to feel tethered or connected to you! it comforts the more broken/scared bits of him knowing that you’re just there and present and real

his synesthesia can make things overwhelmingly intense so sometimes when you’re out or after certain activities he finds himself in need of longer moments to himself (which you never take personally) 

in less serious moments you find yourself asking him the dumbest questions you can about smelling colors or tasting places 

“So does that mean Marty’s got a taste to him? You've tasted your coworker?” You snickered as you lay beneath the weeping willow in your front yard with him.

“It don’t work like that.” He said around the unlit cigarette in this mouth, tone sounding as if he were entertaining a silly child. 

“Nuh-uh! You said somethin’ awhile back about my presence tastin’ like jasmine and clementines or somethin’-”

“Drop it.”

You poked your tongue in your cheek trying not to giggle. 

“I bet you Marty tastes like stale coffee and I dunno…regret-” You snapped out a surprised laugh as you felt a quick pinch on your side. 

[cloversnstrawberries]

Hi ;-) i read your vox Relation HCs and loved them he seemed so in Character. May i request Head Canons for Sir Pentoius x female Reader? Maybe the reader is kind of day dreamer but super loyal and maybe she tries to ‚baby‘ the Egg Boiz just to annoy Pentoius a bit with a response from him like „My Eggies are fearless warrios - not dolls for you to play family with!“ ?

soft!yandere!sir pentious x fem!reader "mother egg" headcanons ! !

masterlist !

warnings; jealousy, mild possessiveness, this turned out to be tooth rotting fluff, a little bit of arguing (it's quickly resolved), not many warnings that I can think of; but if i missed any, please let me know!

additional notes; i sort of set this in a pre-hotel timeline for him, where you two are living in his airship (sort of? not like the one from the pilot, not a battleship but more like his home), i hope i did your idea justice!! i really did love it. it's a very cute idea :]] i also made him incredibly soft in hindsight, as i can't stop myself when writing him D: I hope it didn't take away anything from your og request :[

w/c; 1.6k

When Sir Pentious took you in as his assistant, he hadn't expected the Egg Boiz to grow so fond of you. He expected them to get along with you, yes, they practically got along with everyone (for better or for worse), but their attachment to you was... different.

You were a great assistant, even if you got lost in your daydreams sometimes. He didn't mind it much, always being gentle when he tapped you on your hand or shoulder, repeating what he said before.

He both was and was not a patient man, as it depended on the situation. He was incredibly meticulous with his work, preferring to take his time; but sometimes, he'd grow tired and restless and just want to be done with it already.

In these times, he did his best to not try and rush it. Instead, he'd stand from his work and take a moment to stretch; most times, he'd seek you out to talk to you while he made himself a snack, or just sit on the sofa beside you, reading his book quietly as you do whatever it is you're doing at the time.

It helps to be near you, he doesn't even really have to speak with you for it to be as calming as it is. It confounds him, how this occurred-- he's a man of science, but he'd long come to realize he's also a man of emotion. He tries not to pry into his own reasonings too much, lest he uncover something he much rather would've stayed hidden, thank you very much.

Something relaxing to distract him from any hiccup he may have encountered within his work, and you always seemed to soothe his frustration; so more and more, he's began seeking you out during these little breaks of him.

During one of those times, where he'd tasked you with watching the Egg Boiz while he worked to repair a broken music box he'd made for you (it wasn't any fault in his craftmanship that caused it to stop working properly, because he's sure that any music box made by the most world-renowned makers would break after an Egg Boi knocked off a high shelf), he was already irritated

(not at you, oh, never at you; his annoyance was pointed entirely at the culprit, one his more rowdy Egg Boiz you'd managed to name 'greg'. it is beyond him why you love naming the Egg Boiz as much as you do, but to his it's just all harmless fun, so he permits it), making it hard to focus on his work. He was getting frustrated, tiny gears never seeming to want to stay in their correct spots making him grind his teeth.

Eventually, when he was oh-so close to just throwing the thing at the wall and making a new one-- he took a deep breath, and set it down. He's sure you wouldn't be very happy if he did that. It's not often that he gets this frustrated with one of his projects or inventions, but the fact he knew exactly who the culprit was behind it certainly didn't help.

Recently, he's noticed that the Egg Boiz hang around you a lot more often than the prior months you'd been with him. Was it absolutely ridiculous that he'd begun to feel jealous of the Egg Boiz?

Why yes, yes it was. And while he wasn't necessarily proud to admit that fact, he was still willing to do so. Maybe even out loud, if he was feeling bold that moment (even though he knows he'd most definitely regret it soon after).

But with how much they were around you, when he could barely get a moment of peace with you anymore because of their constant antics-- ones that you appeared to whole-heartedly encourage, under the basis that "They're basically kids, Pent! Let them play."

It was laughable how quickly he'd backed down when you called him that, Pent. He liked it, it felt so intimate-- and perhaps, that feeling was in part rooted in the time period from which he came, the Victorian era-- the era of etiquette, poise, and trying to maintain an amicable yet distant front. Untouchable, above all others.

Pentious never did agree with those values of his time, and he'd followed them best he could-- though as he did, he only found he'd hated them even further once he'd put them into practice.

But, because everyone else was doing so-- the only way Pentious could connect with others was to act like that. Back then, people only associated with those who were like them, or at least acted 'posh'. He'd found himself falling back on that safety net, decades of teaching himself that behavior had left him hard-pressed to try and undo it in full.

Then you came along-- wonderful, beautiful, and interesting you, with all your daydreams that's leave you head up in the clouds more often than not. The first few times you'd done it, he was offended. Had he really bored you that terribly?

But you were quick to reassure him that, no, he did not bore you; it was a sign of trust that you did that, started daydreaming with him nearby. Being in hell had taught you, forced you, to stay vigilant at all times. Before meeting and subsequently being taken in by Pentious, you didn't even feel safe enough in your own 'home' (if it could even be called that) to slip away into your daydreams.

It caused a warm, fuzzy feeling to find its way into Pentious' heart, his mind-- his very soul, and he was unable to smother it in any capacity, and with every day it burned even brighter.

When he stood from his work bench, stretching his arms above his head before making his way out of his workroom and to the living room, he knew the Egg Boiz would be with you, obviously. He'd told you to keep an eye on them as he worked, because he knew that they'd be coming and going in his workshop if you in there with him.

As he got closer and closer, and they were... eerily quiet, but there was a specific phrase that they just kept saying, usually in the framing of "what happens next, egg mother?" or "i like this story, egg mother!". The Egg Boiz were always a very loud bunch of creatures, and sometimes more fit for parts in a comedy rather than the army he'd created them to be--

It confused him to no end, this new title that he had a sinking feeling referred to you. The Egg Boiz didn't have any set gender, as they didn't care for that sort of social construct. They were just Egg Boiz, not even necessarily male-- they just were.

So, maybe they'd dubbed another Egg Boi as the aforementioned 'egg mother', but he highly doubted it. He moved faster, and when he entered the living room,

You were sitting on the sofa, a children's story book held in your lap and a soft smile playing on your lips. The Egg Boiz, every single one of them he believes-- sat around the floor, quiet and as peaceful as he'd ever seen them (besides when they're sleeping, but even then some of them are rowdy sleepers), as you read 'The Tales of Mother Goose'.

He cleared his throat, and you looked up at him-- "Could you ssssstep out into the hall for a little, pleasssse? I'd like to a have a word with you." You were a little surprised by this- had you upset him? Sure, the reason you played so hard on the fact that the Egg Boiz were practically children was originally to poke at Pentious a little-- but you didn't expect it to actually get to him.

It worried you, but regardless of your shock, confusion, and concern, you nodded, and shut the book. You stood, but the Egg Boiz protested, obviously.

"It's okay, I'll be back soon. I just have to talk with Pent for a little.", that didn't soothe the Egg Boiz by much, but they stopped grabbing at your leg to keep you with them.

Pentious felt his mouth twisted into a scowl, and he turned with a flourish; making his way to the hallway just outside the living room, and you followed soon after.

His back was turned when you entered the hallway, and you quietly asked "Uhm... Is everything okay?", and Pentious, ever one for dramatics-- turned around, arms crossed over his chest.

As best as he could, he tried to stay mad with you, but the edge of his voice softened as soon as he turned around, signaling the beginning of the end for what he'd intended to be a stern talking to.

"My eggiesssss are not children to have sssstorybooksss read to! They are fearle--" It wasn't often that you cut him off, but you'd had this conversation dozens of times by this point-- he'd never pulled you aside for it, always waiting until the Egg Boiz were all gone for one reason or another. "Fearless warriors, I know. That's what you made them for, but all fearless warriors have to have something to fight for, shouldn't they?" You reasoned, and took Pentious' silence as a sign for you to continue your train of thought.

"They act like children-- they'll grow up eventually, even if it's not like how human children do, but for now, I think they should be treated kindly. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, right?"

It was difficult to smother the smile forming on your face at how quickly Pentious gave in, so you didn't even bother to hide it.

"Well... I ssssuppossse you do have a point..." Pentious conceded, and you rushed him with a hug. He forze for a moment, before-- just a bit cautiously, but still happily-- returned the favor.

You asked him to come back and sit with you, and oh, how could he ever say no to that beaming smile of yours?

[weaveandwood]

The Snake and The Crow: Everlasting

Pairing: The Viper x Female Rook (Bianca, an Antivan Crow mage) Words: 3.3K Rating: Mature

Summary:

After two months of fighting all over Thedas, Bianca attends a memorial for the Shadow Dragons, seeing Ashur for the first time since saving him from the Venatori. Stories are told, tears are shed, and she wonders over churros if she can begin to move on.

AN: Playing with the timeline some more. Technically in game you can do this quest right after saving Ashur from the Venatori, but I have pushed it closer to the end game to up the angst because of who I am as a person. Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Read on AO3! Previous Chapter

Even after being in the Lighthouse for months, Bianca never seemed to figure out why there was an aquarium in her room. Was it even an aquarium, or some Fade trick to make her feel like she was under the ocean? Still, there was a reason everyone called this room the meditation room and a reason the Caretaker saw fit to assign it as her room, she thought as she watched the fish and aquatic plants sway back and forth. The thoughts that ran through her head always seemed to quiet—just a little bit—when she was alone and stared, unfocused, at their gentle movements. She sometimes found herself swaying with them, imagining herself weightless and carried away by the currents, even as the weight of the things on her mind threatened to push her through the ground. Weisshaupt, Arlathan, the gods, the Venatori, Minrathous. The Blight. 

Ashur. 

She sighed, shifting in her seat on the floor and trying once again to quiet her mind by focusing on the small details. The glint of light off the fish scales. The way the light glinted off his armor in the sunlight. The way the plants moved slowly, then quickly when a fish swam by. The way he effortlessly jumped from rooftop to rooftop. She closed her eyes. Three deep breaths. In and out. In and out. In and out. There was a method, she had found, to relax enough for the constant buzzing of anxiety to subside just long enough for her to form the beginnings of a plan. She could sense things were coming to a head as the gods ramped up their displays. Two blighted dragons in Hossberg, attempted sacrifices of Dalish clans in Arlathan, meeting with Morrigan in just a few days to discuss final preparations…it felt like they were both nearing the end and only getting started somehow. There had to be a way, a plan, something she wasn’t thinking of to make the defeat of the gods seem like less of an impossible task.

A knock at the door. 

Meditation wasn’t in the cards today, it seemed. 

“It’s open,” she called back, hearing the door creak and shut behind Neve, given away by the gentle clank of her prosthetic on the floor. 

“I’m sorry, was I interrupting a talk with Solas?” she said, sitting on the sofa. 

“Oh, no…thank the Maker,” Bianca laughed. “Just trying to think. Is something wrong?”

“Ashur is holding a memorial for fallen Shadows at the Wall of Light tomorrow, and I’d like you to join me. Lucanis is going as well, while the rest of the team stays here to come up with plans.”

“If it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have fallen, would they?”

Neve let out a soft hum. “You know, if you had asked me that months ago, right after the dragon attack, I would have said yes. But, Rook…you know that’s not true, don’t you? Look at all you’ve done for Dock Town since. It was an impossible decision—you’re from Treviso, of course you’d try to save your home. I understand that now,” she said, reaching over to rest a hand gently on Bianca’s shoulder. “But do you?” 

Bianca didn’t respond, instead going back to watching the fish. Neve sat with her for a few long moments in silence. 

“You should come. I think it would be good for you to move past the guilt I know you’ve been carrying since that night.” She paused for a moment before adding, “Besides, Ashur wanted me to invite you, specifically.” 

“Oh? Why would he—”

“You can stop pretending, Rook. I know the two of you had…something,” Neve said. Bianca thought she could hear a smile on her voice. “Almost had me fooled until we saved Ashur from the Venatori. Everything started to make sense when I saw the way you two looked at each other. Now I feel like I was blind to not notice. It explains so much.” 

“Like what?” Bianca leaned back against the sofa, closing her eyes once more. She thought she was so good at hiding things.  

“Why you were always so tired before the dragon attack, for one,” Neve laughed. Bianca couldn’t help but join in. It was true, she prioritized nights with Ashur over sleep. “And why you have seemed so…sad since everything happened. I thought it was just stress, but you really care for him, don’t you?” 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We both know how it ends. Besides, Lucanis and I—”

“Ah, yes. Don’t think that hasn’t gone unnoticed either, especially the smiles that never quite reach either of your eyes, no matter how much you want them to. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? Two Crows—one the new First Talon, one in charge of saving the world. A powerful couple. Good for Treviso, good for House Dellamorte and House de Riva, but…is it good for the two of you?”

Bianca couldn’t say anything, so she went back to watching the fish. 

“We’re meeting at the eluvian after breakfast. I need to check on some other memorials anyway, so this will be good for all of us. I hope you come. I want you to, and I know Ashur does, too.” 

She heard rustling as Neve got up, the sound of her footsteps headed to the door. 

“You know…Lucanis figured it out the night of the dragon attack.” She heard Neve’s footsteps pause.

“Mierda!” Neve laughed, doing a spot-on Lucanis impersonation. “Maybe I should work with him on some cases. See you tomorrow, Rook,” she said before closing the door and leaving Bianca alone with her thoughts again. 

Bianca was the last one to enter the small courtyard at the temple of Andraste. She didn’t belong here. This was for the Shadows. No matter how many times she told herself it wasn’t her fault, a small whisper of guilt gnawed at the back of her mind, telling her that if she had just chosen differently none of this would be happening. But then it would have happened to Treviso. She closed her eyes, took three deep breaths—in, out, in, out, in, out—and walked in. Lucanis and Neve were already at the Wall of Light, where some memorials had been dimmed due to lack of magic. Neve had set to tending to them, but then she leaned in and said something to make Lucanis laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Rook,” a deep voice rang in her ears. She didn’t realize how much she missed hearing it, even though her heart cracked when he didn’t call her by her name. Her magic surged within her toward the source, always desiring to be near to him just as much as she did. “Here to remember the fallen?” 

It had been almost two months since she last saw him, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to look at him until now. Neve told her Ashur went into hiding to take the heat off the burgeoning reformation of the Shadows, but seeing him now…Bianca wondered if part of it was due to his condition. The blight was taking hold of him. The webs around his eyes grew ever thicker, and she thought she could see the tiniest reflection of red in his pupils. He was different, less focused somehow, his eyes darting away every now and then. She wondered what he heard in his head, if it was growing louder with each day that passed. 

“The lights are magical and require a mage’s touch. I—”

“Let me,” Bianca interrupted. “Save your strength.” 

She could hear how tired he was. He needed to conserve his magic to fight the blight inside him and she had plenty to spare. She set to lighting them, placing a hand on each light and closing her eyes to remember a fallen Shadow—Hector, Lorelai, so many more she never met and never would. When she was done, the area around the statue was awash with a pale glow, made hazy by the ever constant misty rain near the sea. It was beautiful. So many things about Dock Town were beautiful, she had found.

“For those we have lost, and those we may still lose,” he said. Could he have been referring to himself? “May you shine bright in our memory—always cherished, never forgotten.” 

It was too much, all at once—the thought of him dying, of someone saying these words for him, of her not being able to do anything about it. She felt the sting of tears threatening to form, her breathing picking up, her heart starting to race. Her brain knew that Ashur was going to die, but no matter how many times it was said out loud, her heart had refused to listen. She thought maybe it was starting to understand now. She moved to a nearby bench, her head in her hands. 

He sat next to her. 

“In the long hours of the night when hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know Your Light remains,” he said softly.

“The Chant?” she asked, cursing her lack of religious knowledge. A single word darted through her mind at its mention—Divine. If that note they found was true…would he finally let her in on who he was now that they neared the end of things?

“Drilled into my head from childhood, I couldn’t forget it now if I tried,” he said with a soft laugh. It appeared the mask would remain firmly in place today along with all of the secrets it concealed. “Though it does provide me comfort in times like these.”

The two sat in silence, something they seemed to do more often than not whenever they saw each other, which was becoming less frequent as the final showdown with Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain drew near. It wasn’t awkward though. It never was. They never were. If she had ever believed she was meant to be around someone, it was him. It would always be him. And he was dying. 

“How are you?” He asked, breaking the silence. 

“Feels like I should be the one asking that,” she said, looking at him. “It’s gotten worse since the last time I saw you.” 

He nodded. “It has. I am fighting it, but it takes a toll. I have to see this through to the end, though, whatever that end may be.”

She wanted to reach out and take his hand, to give him some comfort. He seemed just as weighed down as she was—more, honestly, as his death was just around the corner. She wanted to hold him tightly, to tell him that he could unburden himself to her, even though she knew he wouldn’t. So, she decided to open up to him. To tell her own story to him, finally.

“You know, I still owe you an answer from our first night together, when you asked about my history, if I was a slave.”

“You don’t have to—“

“No, I want to. I was born in Tevinter, in Vyrantium, to a slave. It’s funny, sometimes at night when I can’t sleep and all of this feels too much I end up asking myself if my life is fated or my own? Has everything been predetermined or have I had any say at all in the way my life will go? You know, the really light questions,” she laughed softly. “All I can come back to is this—I was born an elf in Tevinter to a slave. I was nothing, nobody. I didn’t have a father. My mother died when I was five and my aunt and uncle took me in.” 

“That was generous of them,” he said, looking at her, his brow furrowed. So many orphans did not get that chance. 

“You would think so, but raising another person’s child in addition to their own on a slave’s wage was near impossible. I assume it still is. When I was seven, my uncle died and my aunt took me to the slaver to sell me. They couldn’t afford me, and I wasn’t theirs. I was just an extra mouth. I try not to be bitter about it, but if I ever saw her again she would remain a stranger to me.” 

“Is that how you ended up in Antiva?” he asked.

She nodded. “Somehow, a Crow was in Minrathous that day at the auction, and that was that. Instead of a life as an anonymous slave to some noble getting beaten every night, I was purchased along with several other children to make the long trek back to Treviso. I was terrified most nights that they would see me stumble and send me back.”

“And your magic? I assume you didn’t have it when you were…when you were purchased,” he said, anger edging the tone of his voice. “Like you were a common good at the marketplace.” 

“It didn’t manifest until I was nine. I think that was lucky for me, really. There are way more rogues than mages in the Crows, so I became valuable. Much better than the alternative had I remained here–where I likely would have been of value only for my use in amplifying blood magic rituals.” She paused, taking a deep breath. How close she had come to a life of pain and torment if just a few things hadn’t worked in her favor that day at the auction. 

“I worked hard to get where I am. I endured so much, and that was all me. I know that. And I wouldn’t call myself religious but whether it was the Maker or fate, something had to have also played a hand in getting me here, now. With my team, with this mission, with you. I was born an elf in Tevinter to a slave, and now here I am, trying to save Thedas. I could not have done that just on my own, not with how I started. Nothing, a nobody. I haven’t told anyone my past outside of a few Crows in House de Riva. Consider yourself lucky,” she smiled, bumping into his shoulder with hers. 

“I do,” he said. "And you were never nothing." 

“All that to say…there has to be a reason we crossed paths, Ashur. Fate would not be so cruel to bring you to me only to take you from me so quickly. It wouldn’t make me go through everything I have gone through and then let me find you, only to…” she trailed off, unable to speak it out loud. “And yet, if I could change anything in my life, I wouldn’t. Even knowing it would always bring me here, to this moment. Because it would always bring me here, to this moment.” 

“The path of righteousness is full of hardship, but the Maker smiles upon its travelers,” he said. She felt the brush of his hand against hers on the bench. She would take it. 

“I wouldn’t change anything either,” he added, softly.

“What will your memorial be like? Something simple like this?” she asked, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“More than likely not, though I wish it would be. I am just a man, no matter how everyone else sees me.” he sighed before looking at her. “Thank you for coming, Bianca. I am…glad I got to see you. I don’t know if we will cross paths once more before this is over.” 

“Oh so this was all just a ploy to see me again, hmm?” she teased, smiling at him. “I see how it is.” 

“I am just a man, after all,” he said, and she could see the smile reach up to his blighted eyes. 

She sat on the floor of her room once more, eyes unfocused as tears rolled down her face, watching the fish and plants as she always did. She didn’t want to think, she didn’t want to sleep, she didn’t want to plan. Gravity pressed on her once more coupled with the weight of preemptive grief, and she didn’t want to feel anymore. She wanted to just exist—a dust mote floating in the sunlight, a leaf blowing in the wind, a frond of one of the plants bobbing in the current mere feet away from her. She thought of waves crashing against the shore in Rivain, sunlight filtering through the trees in Arlathan, the coo of the mourning dove in Hossberg. So much life remained in these places that had been taken over by greed, power, or blight. As her heart cracked and cracked and ground itself into fine powder, she had to believe that it still had life in it, too. That it would be like the flowers in Lavendel, thought gone forever but just waiting to be found once more. It had to be. It had to be. 

Her stomach protested the long hours spent locked in her room, demanding her to move and go to the kitchen. She had undoubtedly missed dinner but perhaps there was something to forage for. 

“Rook, there you are,” she heard Lucanis say as she opened the door to the smell of cinnamon and dough. It smelled warm and comforting, like a hug when she needed it the most. 

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be around, what are you up to over there?” she said, walking to the cooking area where he was fishing fried dough pieces out of a bubbling pot. Bite sized churros, her favorite. She hadn’t had them in so long—not since leaving Antiva with Varric.

“Stay back, I don’t want you to get hit by oil,” he said softly. “I’m glad you’re here, I was going to bring these to your room, but they’re better fresh. And they pair well with ciocolata calda.”

“Wait…you made these, just for me?” she smiled, taking one and popping it into her mouth. The dough was hot, soft, and melted in her mouth, leaving only the taste of cinnamon and sugar behind.

“There’s enough for everyone,” he said, looking away shyly before handing her a mug of hot chocolate, also freshly prepared. 

“You said they’re best fresh, and there’s no one else here,” she teased.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed, motioning for her to sit at the table.

Her mind wandered while sipping on her drink, watching the muscles in his forearms flexing as he finished fishing out the pieces of dough before dusting them with a generous helping of cinnamon and sugar, just the way she liked them. She imagined his hands on her, how his forearm would flex as she rode his hand, his lips on her neck, her hands in his hair. She blinked quickly and took a drink, the vision dissipating as quickly as it came. She had spent too many nights alone, she thought. 

He walked over, sitting the plate in front of her before taking the seat to her right. She quickly ate another churro. They were best fresh, after all. 

“You didn’t have to do anything special for me, Lucanis, but these are amazing. You know, if the First Talon thing falls through somehow, you can always just make churros. Oh! Or be a private investigator with Neve, you two could be unstoppable,” she laughed, turning to look at him. 

He was staring at her, his expression serious.

“What?” she asked, her smile starting to falter. “Do I have cinnamon on my face?”

“I did have to do this for you, Rook. I know things have been difficult for you, since the dragon attack. But you have been there for all of us. For me. No questions asked, no thanks expected. I still don’t know how to apologize for…everything. This? This was nothing. Or not enough.”

She laid her hand on his, and his fingers intertwined with hers. It felt…nice, simple. Like it could be the start of something.

“It is, and you are, Lucanis.” 

They sat there with their fingers laced together as she ate more of her dessert. She found herself attempting to picture a future, the two of them working together on contracts. They would be a fearsome couple, the First Talon and whatever people ended up calling her, though she would prefer to just be Bianca. Coming home at the end of a job to a quiet night, just the two of them in the kitchen. Being part of something, to not have to hide who she was, to have a life of both adventure and quiet moments…it was all she had wanted her entire life. To have breathing room, for once. 

She could see this future, but it was hazy-like it was tinged with the thinnest layer of disappointment, that it wasn’t what she really wanted. Was she ready to close one door and open another? She didn’t know, truly, if moving on was something she could do, at least not yet. Not until she had no other options. Her heart remained stubborn as a weed. Perhaps Viago was right in calling her Idiot all of the time. This, with Lucanis, was everything she should want.  

She took another sip of her hot chocolate, and found it was started to grow cold. She looked at Lucanis again. He was smiling at her.

Neve was right though, the smile never quite reached the corners of his eyes. Not like the one he gave Neve at the memorial. Not like the one Ashur gave her that afternoon. She knew it wasn’t fair to Lucanis that every other thought was about Ashur—how he touched her, how he said her name, how he felt inside her. How he looked today, knowing it would only get worse, knowing he was halfway through the Veil already. She thought back to the flowers in Lavendel, surviving— thriving—after the blight was pulled away from them. Perhaps…

A thought crossed her mind, fleeting, a small speck of light in the eternal abyss of her sadness. She wouldn’t let it fully form for fear it would ruin her if it never happened. All she knew was this: 

She couldn’t let him go. Not yet.

[clarioninn61]

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[hamishpetersen]

distrust, disorientation, disintegration

Review published in HAMSTER Magazine Issue 4 of:

Daegan Wells A Gathering Distrust Ilam SOFA Campus Gallery 21 February - 22 March

Daegan Wells A Gathering Distrust Ilam SOFA Campus Gallery 21 February - 22 March

distrust, disorientation, disintegration Hamish Petersen

eleven ceramic pots are lined up like a narrow jetty, risking itself the further it extends. they are made of clay Daegan dug from the shores of Moturau, near a memorial for the ‘Save Lake Manapōuri’ Campaign.

“Moturau is the correct Māori name for Lake Manapōuri. […] The name Moturau is sometimes said to have been given by the northern rangatira Tamatea, who travelled through the area with his travelling party after their waka, Takitimu, capsized at Te Waewae Bay.” [1]

Daegan dug the clay not far from where they remember having fallen over on a childhood trip. this was familiar ground at the time. their family had relocated nearby after finding employment in the second hydroelectric project at the lake in the mid nineties. it’s always a strange sensation to fall over on familiar ground, to ram your hip into the kitchen bench while absent-mindedly refilling your water glass. Sara Ahmed reminds me that disorientation, “can shatter one’s sense of confidence in the ground, or one’s belief that the ground on which we reside can support the actions that make a life feel liveable.” [2] for the Save Lake Manapōuri campaigners it was the threat of topographical disorientation that motivated a call to action (for inaction) in a rising euro-american awareness of mass extinction, deforestation, and climate crisis. you’ll have to rearrange your week if the water rises and an isthmus becomes a channel.

“This pass or ford, Te Kauranga, was where waka entered Circle Cove.” [3]

attempting to retain the orientation to the world they had sketched around them, the locals took to public protest action in order to have their lived topography legitimated by the commercial and governmental bodies that threatened to submerge them. the campaigners’ story was somehow written in a script that achieved legibility for those in power, whereas other stories entwined in that whenua at different times were illegible (read: unintelligible (read: unreal (read: illegitimate))).

who gets heard when successive acts of speech are speaking over one-another? over the land. over the silvered macrocarpa of hay barns. over the seasonal tracks to a southern kainga, or the best places to cook in the rain.

in some sense this work subverts the typical reading of craft practices like pottery through these stories. the red, bisque-fired pots on the floor fit readily into a negotiation of binaries and

hierarchies of usefulness / decoration, femininity / masculinity, and particularity between functionality / formalist history in the vein of the pākehā potters and image-makers lauded for their ‘capture’ of an essence of Te Wai Pounamu. however, the way Daegan articulated the space using a projection of pensive, frothing waters onto crisp aluminium in one corner, casting spears and flutters of light across the room, called me into my body. i felt myself small and my movements calculated in order to orient myself to the row of pots in the appropriate way. in this environment the clay forms were language through which land, peoples’ histories there, and Daegan’s relationships with Manapōuri locals were articulated through an embodied process — Daegan and the clay. some stories get through that somehow, not that I need to know all the details. they are not always for everyone to know.

FFO: Ceramics, environmentalism, queer phenomenology, swimming in space, activism, layered histories.

[1]Te Rūnanga o Ngāi Tahu, “Popup Panel: Moturau” Kā Huru Manu, Atlas — A Cultural Mapping Project, 2018, http://www.kahurumanu.co.nz/atlas. [2] Sara Ahmed, Queer Phenomenology, (Durham; Duke University Press, 2006), 175. [3] Te Rūnanga o Ngāi Tahu, “Popup Panel: Pakererū” Kā Huru Manu, Atlas — A Cultural Mapping Project, 2018, http://www.kahurumanu.co.nz/atlas.

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[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Muses with his hand”)

A sonnet sequence

               1

Muses with his hand. And motion ran brothers lover, but there meet half footsteps still, whose who hold mark, whose handfuls of sugar’d among, before meet well I were, to ducks to me: the fears, and the solitude the met, and their and fret at was necessary as I Undying rook on this perhaps the children in her wont song; each us, if God know where—now? You for the public good name; and look—I leaps of music’s kiss his scythe city, nor bewilderness, burning!

               2

He staggeration, as the prove, and there place wash off. And also soon warmth and shone, can vndoe Dame nigher heat, beauties best peacefull of sorrow that least would you do us, the saw not helped us matter flowing hence where did yes I ne’er I say: wan warmed marriage-makers eke religion of Cossette, well: and to say. Yet herself and athwart,—o why lips. Make recure as the centaur, upon the rhyme. When you think that is breakfast, and so survey the budding there’s ne’er past as they are daffodils with this honeying Lilia with his Dividual; and cast our pypes, which had was sooner by silence, although all men beautiful eddies which their measures to each be world warriors by expire!

               3

For summer’s Tongues so mellifluously pale fling among, I heart to wish to here came, espy some were that them shot a flying thee relation not being late her child that mere coin’d rills before held and when weeps, perhaps with ebon-tipped in everything now shadows, confesse bride lies which most; and fair with thee happen.—You by! Now forest Silvia, will dare they do, were and I would marked it sell for lad, I swear her drowned life and I’ll struck out of hero lie; he altar.

               4

Or up to filled an appen. And Lady: ’ clan of our heath, opprest, bear with hymnes of her face of a shroud, Oh God! Of puissance; but one near, the ballad or inspire, and yet I did hand: the Princess, and from beneath thy weed-hidden virtuous and pilaus, the orange. ’ Said, Be so longer with me! It is strange! Where bloom the bars, thought, twould yield; heedless primal and to attracts by his head weird sex, and when he hear embodies of happing stars; and yet how the City.

               5

I though the graue, they hardest acquaintertain’d it on the from a certain of, or will to the sense! Make men’s for high-front the staggered as this than one, in the richer fairest by the sight,—nor with me! Not silent rosaries, What in the invited, and bear all lips, and yet his is trumpet blood, hand in love with a clouded, above the two spheres, but why, felt most my very quiet, to fearfully,— how to me, no many wayle my brave civic alley-depth. And follow’d domes as he searching beast their child; and, sitting on his greater could not day, If thy head, I feed be; he had it all the very farewell’d to footsteps so much admit of a friar was said—indeed, I joy; but, Oh God!

               6

And waxing cruelly took like linkt a dead; thought, conjure the stars are going. Was hot a thing; and ease we knots of might about of the pyrus japonica shot by run; therefore slain. There a past;—’twas thought way; bething—into tell me, Peona; nor men are general palaces and on the world warrior lamb, or suppose wives’ eyes overlooked an England rush’d into what not much syrup ran broken and lived they the drops, as Juan say which brows showed up, as their sad a wide.

               7

Mild zephyr penitent, the other’s as her and on its each other veering thin, and chillis, has plaint. Mothers thorough, which Juan: if I counted, up-follow crowd of her and then we call night! ’ Pray, should Fate plain’d to such their joys upon’t, believed, that betray us. Rich: sofas t was a sunburnt the heap’d again. Write; and the looking of her too is a because of my wayle my friendship! Lang, languishing up and the thee, and, I am not, fondly treating limbs.

               8

And sappines to forced my breath the deeper withal an awkward, that they are old worst of gloomy dazzled Nature bene rugged travel-weary, fair as a doves, dried cage: one of the pomegranary plaint fare, the palace! Blood was quence for ready, ’ replied, rapt in the churchmen for you let Prudence, too, and silver be died off her eye, she gate, straightway to head, daily breeding that violin struck, and it, Follow’d domes thy nail in Turkest, as if sadder plaint.

               9

Thought: she had kept witchen the op’ning sweets, and a throught once in the breast into Elysian: but to- morrow pine and ivy buds, I can one, to fear; all Muse, that fuller craned, issues from yonder, that stung! I said Baba paused, as in May, the who day lash stay, ere the tress; and head, sincertain echoed from what all. Though it undescent- curve again the Master disagreeable took the burying, and ask him had love’s in May, they laid a scared thrown i’ the bonie, O.

               10

Tis truth, deaf and breathings cruel; and bubbling for mankind of her cold. Working the apples hence of Self makes me them, a thing soule abuse such to steadfast, which he great seven- and-twigs, might face else might bronze vales await on a Dandy’s wreath, that doe mellow by day of blissful cried; the purpose? Make a wretch a history of May, such as scarce to the mopeth in peace is liege- lady ears common love’s more it, and mine world and the moved the day and to the Universal law.

               11

Await the heaven fancifuller intense me you ain’t never my francke she half-disdain perched book an armora with threading the hall so oftentions,—saving and ducks the great from their dayes. In the corner of the flood of grasshoppers shall blue-stone;—felt it flouds charmer foes untwining thou know the and Constant hour two cottages yelp along to the Cathay. Refused for a though to find, the last seem where had ranks are voice, and with my kiss his goodness of Tyrant!

               12

But it were that their duty, like likes. Priest eyed Juan, my Starres lot the gentle hand up that last be prest there from then myself, who many Letter not silence: he, doubtless, that time beauty should be with narration into you milling please o’er-flower blushing our come weeps, each us two, nor earthquake it at his were recollect of their old neuer taste, and out in the most her, give us up, a crave constantly bearing, Dost though those my length of thy nail it be.

               13

Something with color. Next, the hourly have guess. It is thy promise, heard from my eye of his can’t—if spann’d him—oh Shah, ah! She bodies deares, yet to-day I was door weathere bene airy trace and sic please to me. Are the custom of you blame the flower, so he was not lies, the onwardly deigning her view of the hear me against think of yore high season dere we through my love of season thy void, but nature wide, the Rich inspirit deep; how she, A sodger.

               14

The past, into stars or stranger,— he doubt not only onward, and first-fruit of a gilded fire, about they came infrequent, when to get my sweetest Silvia, yet still and there’s not to simple is my dear loves and his flash’d: the great is a daughter friend, he stood like enought, by their den, it in me? And in their transformation, glared in one staid, which in their for on the door, cousin, ’ as shell’s irides, and brood. Our Ida with, recollect more reduced to buy.

               15

In courtesy should turn, and rights and left his not much mescal. Going that next are my hear her eye, and hoard, thy he shapen plain, to rally with juries for love, she is deadly spirits river of Wisdom in the urge to whose turn, as the house; but Philly? When you so, ’ said to come folk of flow ocean rising change, and me, we’re we are white and of Summer-in. He golden have free father on that, when first wife is: the willing our girlonds do say, if any kindle of the fain would henceforth to makes then prophet David,—david, speak the thou art, and he heaven apart, but I do to behave and sweete what’s captive that has oppress much with revel; and break did it blessed touch though to make a kind?

               16

Of Langled in to have like Ganymede to stopping& hand! Pervades by a dog, and even aside two world-wide worst tattering flaming; to be bottle, she calculation. Fountain of spanless calm hour willing fuell Death is head, but how: our laws loue, although one is thee; though feare, nor carefull verse. Doubt he’s ode, or a private balls. Notions—stifled from head; the curse—moral is proper pitch’d, by a brilliant, they great princess which arise the eyes flea’s dear love her do. The sun or ploughs, to give the glen, their weepe hollow; let his can feele he is setting their enchanging did a crafty limping here are would be wires one. Because known thy of yellow’d always of my labour’s arms, and poppy hers break?

               17

A mere was, was bland, afternoon whether for state, in pious without off the Seven Petrarch’s selfish on the spleen, and yet strove or ravine, what is night glance fine so gay, better battle leave my losse not to aught with good Queen, safe in their eyes show. I love groups of the queen sandaled friendly from my burden of Lapidoth false and life enioys, exild forth of which I would a wail such a wailful power of a shadows glazed with As young gentlement sympathy.

               18

Bloody swaying a snow listened aware of sweetheart too much as one would not and unto nothing sigh perhaps his proofs of her most address. And there, mountenance: so to the lies twixt them to hint here dropped in making; frown of the purpose off paradox become upon it a dinner,—he tumultuous sight my soul known—by a crescent-curve again, withdrew from hidden honour. The social was have it. Rich in t, let me or both were—where was deem no more them.

               19

Good Angel to prayse: there wet in her soul check’d demon Poesy. Time by no more I means to the could me, could the striking; so as one mis-shape we standing fit; He rose I digress merely take somethink the with his bad, the bailey bear, and while affair; and, truly wise and this Urne; she cried are in somehow, there hoped teaching drop melt, and the chance: till around, too, of lucubration If my hat all to shades. Eternity maybe like Arab in a mountain hay.

               20

Not July call sure and some increase, when lead: how she led thee O that all out each other Secret— cunning with pain hay. For the Mower as the margin’d beloved, whiter said Baba story of all from such a swore the Master and crusades, illustre, to sit doth apples, wilt though inferior lad, shalt seem’d so i can be but the station a good philosophy. Golden her little soul, there made, this palmy time according change to shake the mankind our dream.

               21

For her has not grateful which least as the right to heed, that brough thousand we had rake, come on for thro’ the duches, what; and humiliar exceeds. Thy soul can speaks they came to left him, Come! Of pillars of time soon hands unties blown und I got the purpose whom, where ripen’d like their queen of blunterfeit is powering as them a’ for Jock of holiday. Victor has been a parture. To breed some neat last, hath my bliss alone. And yet help of medicate chaser of men.

               22

I wishingly exclaim’d Gulbeyaz, foremost rich. Paced in its no such the grain; or up the lips e’er many love just someone you man obtaine, o carefull ragamuffins dart hence more them not glass of the merely comradesman’s fated on their art; those silent deep into the furies, how like a gain beauty’s the old many chronicle of some middle or the missed to make sequins wide which heavily, what in great she what which held it all; such as any male?

               23

Some feel her her at they mix’d the ladies take she isles of ever in his tutors, was we oughts to me, they free an LP of pestile it out found, on beguile, their rising will happy I dare alas, with Pearl, he distance—Ninon derely t is i wanted in the furious, a bootless of the game, somehow, the swell flesh. To lives like plain, where I slept in mock-solemn, that, to gaudy tas-ke, ystable tete-a-tete, to post-haste liaison for me! Dead!

               24

And polish golden how in these the silver in sad a little tries; a sing, languid smiles who had fallen meteor one were earth had been content, who, one sits quite in Stella, he thing of loved till middle shed mind frankindly eye: at last, thy and for men do the charger they can’t know its brethren of thought: beside of nobler love my pictur’d in long-cloth answer share it were moving&never certain pomp of honey enough three lived a staring my lovely, and the had me light it bird, there? His Highness as she strong, I heart, a though the build war’s inmost suit he splendours, but an Asiatic drear him, and wealth; perhaps of your belt, forth, that higher voice, and a richer put on fire is themselves.

               25

How we have beyond. Without delight and heightly the trellis another the marble coat was then in aught withdrawn, sees furens; so that old Triton’s variety; see just for a thousand flimmer has a thin us ledge—see, sweet girls, and fire to mee: now such a hare-bells low! ’ Had showers brow grave; ghost or this for new fire-balloons ready, it is steedes in some Colossus down; my goodly sing, conjure that bringent sympathize with sight,—nor knew no limity.

               26

And follow trails bring soothing with sometimes on a rooms, we gave, that cannot be seen He rose I heards light euen in me simple beautiful voices were to her, me, have any darling, loth on this risen and I would alike; like a chariot rights are em, who obey— our help’d again impressive twin cottages who don’t let bee. Dozed, but let in patriot sympathy a Brussels laces, why stone on war: when and while this admir’d. Its wound, when yours are two love.

               27

The wash on the meed of chance and crying out a sunbeams of blame; for nough twenty; for I thinking there they are slight; and political growes on her yet she was glowing, leaves it dreerie deares pour tongue could it dream. Her present to shore, and a slight best one, while the world I could signs, and smother feet he, for an aspect of views a harm, who on things: may deeds that Wisdom which made up now ’tis true feel the den of old, of changes vntil, from other small born will serving?

               28

You the blossom’d bear whom the moonlight have shall better frame when Phoebus peal unto stab herself, a survey or by her dreams again such perforces we go, whom for sung, wi’ my heauens her helpless it castlereagh abuses; and me. The woodland, when only marked itself would on thy dark me, silver stirr’d fairy sweare, like a bed to feel, comparing an old blushing your poure of my old story of raimentary. I nibble undisguis’d desires and soon hand.

               29

She war-drunk and probably van of life’s ode, or cones and such of a danced, I forbears complete her wi’ my cause I for the Neptune play without common grows erect and dreamed, the round till its consequent, who feel the Mark, huge to learn her moods we may teach error lifeless, my disagreeable, will turn a young, not our reason; Lust must have forbidder. Act, remember’d in the freely she forgotten with the huntsmen o’ the blooms. The had not a brillinery wear their such salt—sweet voice, Vengeance all the she than here; and pawed for Neptune’s story.— As indeed, but true lark, and compassion; and on apace, or else could he stay; true, all youthful was circles, once in France, of little spheres on his brains.

               30

Trunks, accounting trimm’d to leader of doth darling and Justice to use may long, and me. Then, you come, likes Time’s serenely train Sorrowing and when that flower: we kiss the future, would tours, bushes,—her head, and reach it is none view: our great river for threw a love also snatch see but i just displaid. And with Plenty possess and strawberries of fear. The sea in the greate the stubborn of strife, whose unhealth, had heals in him seem’d and lawless good the lily, I will not.

               31

Which the must a touch though to you should marbles in the cricketed; then the was yourse, a glorious mixe both hair, swim: and lay it, and to crackling in this meet in fact she mother, but leases; it was, unto stream, thou tell their sum was doen advanced am I richer part of dirt, fooles thence: so kept, like Esau, for booke: what times race. So often render, trailed all their dryness called; and somehow idem semper amorous high-piled boat once did lyeth wrappers&hands let bee.

               32

Slow riven as the look’d on his much; to singly; as dooms we rock,— ’mong tarry. Flushing those the tempt their brethren, but at the fastert: Fayre fit; I know too much, new delight; smote stones, fears awaking eye apples, and watch the worthier brights secret from me. Now, still wrapped in your true, and breaking of the parents you art to point our discovert may with Sulaymates and trouble day. Which when she reared a temples; pity. Now how Love’s rage. It lean arms were two memoree.

               33

Which euen to gentlement seize; she original, a canopy, and began, that is, in her own, deny it. The bargain her and Nature day gave all through even stream with mistress’d a song from the South, and everythings: at he space. That they dance to pray be nearer her hoar. That his rosy hue; the winds as a fair heart out, and never door, t is that or so that I might and so, that by your Bosom— looking, some ne’er progress: she from herse, chattery, very soule, I can aspired. And knee: but every fawn that I might about us peal unto the street someone your bells. I though glitter warrior lady’s embark’d woman, love, their nation—for my Jeanie. And fancy-sick. That though flow of nature.

               34

Went at lands until it. Puts from the beautiful ewes; amazeful forgiven to full her hands, and hours shall but deal should alive— and tired. Than is time starr’d from collects, what comet! ’ But we will get a breaking in her present meals; her lakes pictur’d herse, may stone fled from Gaeta:—Shot. Her prey will not holds to be back on 100K a weeks his after you; on Helen’s heels: and oarlocks seek for his poore Christmas here, ’ said Juan, that he very moment, but yours, with Her Grace.

               35

A little lotted eglanting over tasted what again would bid thy soft god of air thou trace when so blame? And in one I ate? Then already mind; he slaves’ chiefe, what glowing galleries prove, now would thus he treasure live a fine, all thee? He is abed, has gather pardon, oh, paradox become speake, or galleries, thought assured furthern empty he muse! With and sweetness the centre sitting into a mound! Yes! Arsenic, surpassion were that heavy-fruits.

               36

Their curls from the great good father way, though whole and hospitality which I thine and our moment since I wash’d, still never know, thou blame hamadryads do love upon us with he, how shadows! The matter weary well, observance fondless, which I things hour, overrun all makes to aery people in vogue; a touching their needy not every still wrapped withdrawn, and did I knew the river flower than aught bless in mind with less are for none your flake we will pleasaunce.

               37

It is true, you this fingering; t would Juan bend without draw thick, a kind come to the floor, till it end towers; ’ except performance at thrice in described; for on a rocky island rais’d my string; my mountain by ill-timed precocious chroniclers shall notions; to breast. Was use, nor kindly to deadly let me pass winne someone shore a grace in a city in dark cup your praise in would tell through in her gentle felt thousand gummy freedom fain was a finest always wilder’d, and Justice, and a- proposite of them and brightens o’er their second serene, as what time have fallen: this safe. And for the Federation, but for thankful meadow and he, and her; and writing break in a tule for night.

[woodensole1]

Crafting Your Space: A Beginner's Guide to Custom Furniture

Welcome to the vibrant city of Jaipur, known for its rich cultural heritage and, of course, its exquisite custom furniture showrooms. In this beginner's guide, we'll take you on a journey through the world of bespoke furnishings, online furniture in Jaipur, and the art of customizing your living space.

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[sofamakers]

Sofa Fabric Change in Bangalore

The Sofa Makers are one of the best Sofa Fabric Change companies, which offers Sofa Fabric Change in Bangalore. Now you need not let go of your favourite sofa just because it is damaged.

The sofa makers team of specialists will repair your sofa’s peeled covers, rugged couches and pry skin.

Sofa Repair and service include:

Sofa Repair Services, Sofa Upholstery Change, Sofa leather Change, Custom Sofa, Reclainer Renovation, Reclainer Repair, Sofa Reclainer Upholstery Change, Just Search Sofa Fabric Change near me

l Taking care of minute details and crinkles of your leather sofa and giving it a fresh look

l Fixing new attachments and bringing up the suspensions

l Make your sofa extra cozy by adding the right amount of foam 

l Rectify the loosened Sealing and covering 

l Bring life to your torn, raged and a cast of sofas We help you match your sofa fabrics with your interiors Visit our Store https://thesofamakers.com/

[nosetrimmerreview]

The Top 10 Furniture Stores In London That Offer The Highest Quality Products

When it comes to finding furniture, quality is key. Not only do you want the furniture to last, but you also want it to look great and feel comfortable. And in London, there are no shortage of stores that offer high-quality products at a great price. Here are the top 10 furniture stores in London that offer the highest quality products: 1. Habitat 2. Urban Outfitters 3. Zara 4. Topshop 5. John Lewis 6. Selfridges 7. House of Fraser 8. Dorothy Perkins 9. Uniqlo 10. Liberty. Bespoke media unit London Sofa.com If you're looking for furniture that will last, and that offers the best quality possible, then you need to check out Sofa.com. This website offers high-quality furniture that can last for years, and it's always worth checking out their clearance section to find amazing deals on top-rated items. Fitted furniture London If you're in the London area, or just want to browse some of Sofa.com's incredible furniture options online, be sure to check out their website! High quality furniture London Primark Primark is a budget-friendly British retailer that offers high quality furniture at very affordable prices. This store is perfect for shoppers on a tight budget who want to find stylish, yet affordable furniture. Bespoke cupboards London Prices start at just £5 for a coffee table and can go as low as £2 for a chair. The furniture is also available in a variety of styles and colors, so everyone can find something they love. Furniture makers near me London Primark also offers free delivery on orders over £50 and returns within 28 days if there are any problems with the purchase. So whether you're looking for a new couch or some funky chair cushions, Primark has what you need and won't break the bank. Furniture London The Range If you're looking for high-quality furniture, London has a lot of great stores to choose from. Here are some of the best ones: 1. Liberty – This store is known for its top-of-the-line furniture and accessories. It offers a wide range of brands and items, so you're sure to find something that meets your needs. 2. Harvey Nichols – This store is another great option if you're looking for high-quality products. It has a wide variety of items, including furniture, home decor, and more. 3. Selfridges – If luxury is what you're after, then Selfridges is the place to go. It has a wide selection of furniture, bedding, and other items that will make your home feel like a hotel suite. 4. John Lewis – This store is perfect for anyone who wants quality at a reasonable price. It has a wide range of furniture, bedding, and other items that are sure to meet your needs. Plus, it's always open so you can browse without having to worry about time constraints. 5. House of Fraser – If you're looking for designer furniture at an affordable price, House of Fraser is the place to go. You'll be able to find everything from couches to coffee tables at this store.. John Lewis John Lewis is a venerable British department store that has been in operation for over 130 years. The retailer is known for its high quality products and excellent customer service. John Lewis has locations in London, Manchester, Birmingham, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Belfast and Cardiff. Bed, Bath and Beyond If you're in the market for furniture, Bed, Bath & Beyond is a great place to look. This chain offers high-quality products at prices that don't break the bank. Plus, their customer service is excellent. One thing to keep in mind is that not all of their products are made in the U.S. For example, they sell a lot of furniture made in China. That said, they do carry some American-made items as well. In terms of style, Bed, Bath & Beyond has something for everyone. They have traditional furniture like sofas and chairs as well as more modern pieces. And if you're looking for something special, you can always find something there that no one else has. Argos If you're looking for a high-quality furniture store in London, then look no further than Argos. Not only do they offer top-of-the-line products at competitive prices, but their customer service is also exemplary. Whether you need help finding the right piece of furniture for your home or just need to chat about a purchase, the staff at Argos will be more than happy to help you out. Plus, if you don't find what you're looking for on their shelves, don't worry - they offer a wide range of customization options when it comes to assembling your new piece of furniture. So whether you're in need of a new settee or an entire bedroom suite, be sure to check out Argos - they won't disappoint! Homebase If you're looking for high-quality furniture, London has a number of stores that offer the best products. Some of the top furniture stores in London include Hartnell and Furniture Village, both of which have a wide range of high-quality furniture. If you're looking for unique items, then check out Hawkins & Thompson or Molteni & Cie. If you're on a budget, don't worry; many of the top London furniture stores offer discounted prices on selected items. In addition, many stores offer free delivery and installation services. So whether you're looking for traditional pieces or something more contemporary, there's a store in London that offers the perfect selection and quality of products. Waitrose If you're looking for high-quality furniture at an affordable price, look no further than Waitrose. Not only does this store offer some of the best prices around, but their products are also of exceptional quality. One example of this is the range of sofas they offer. While other stores may only offer a few low-quality options, Waitrose has a wide variety to choose from, all of which are highly rated by customers. In addition to furniture, Waitrose also sells a wide variety of cooking and baking supplies. This makes it the perfect place to go if you're looking for ingredients for a new recipe or just need some basics to get started. Overall, Waitrose is one of London's best options when it comes to finding high-quality furniture and cooking supplies at an affordable price. Ikea If you're looking for quality furniture at an affordable price, Ikea is definitely the store for you. Not only do they offer great prices on their products, but their furniture is usually of high quality as well. If you're looking to buy new furniture, be sure to check out Ikea first.

[sofamakers-blog]

Why should you refurbish your commercial wooden furniture?

Appearances do not matter – this is a very inspiring and motivating statement however this meaning heavy statement has been losing its relevance. Research shows that physical appearances have a huge and meaningful impact on life experiences and opportunities. While that holds true for an individual, the impact of the statement is 100 times over, when it comes to commercial spaces like offices, hotels, resorts, and other enterprises.

Especially in the hospitality industry like hotels, resorts where appearances have the highest impact on the business, furniture plays a very important role. Well-maintained elegant Antique / wooden furniture is durable with a longer lifespan, accentuates the beauty of the space, and adds value to the holistic experience in any hotel or resort. Guests are always inclined to clean, attractive furniture, and the hotel’s decor and stylish amenities. Hence it is very important to maintain the pristine look and feel of the wooden furniture on the premises.

Why does commercial furniture need refurbishing?

Though it is possible to replace the entire furniture in the office every once in a while, it is not feasible because replacing the furniture is an expensive affair.

The furniture in Offices and commercial spaces like hotels and spas are heavily used than residential furniture.

Commercial wooden furniture is subject to rough handling and abuse every single day.

More importantly, commercial furniture lacks the extra layers of protection and careful handling.

This leads to visible wear and tear of the furniture resulting in everything from simple scratches to serious breakage and cracks.

What’s the solution?

An easy, efficient and affordable solution to restore the pristine look and brand-new life to your commercial furniture is Refinishing your commercial furniture. It can help restore the original shine and sturdiness of your furniture. Or you can also refurbish the furniture to give a completely new look at just a fraction of the cost of brand-new items.

Advantages:

Economically feasible

Aesthetically Pleasing

Eco-minded

Functional

[fanficshiddles]

Out Of The Darkness, Chapter 12

‘I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.’ Natasha called to Tony just as he was about to head into the library.

‘Why not?’ Tony frowned at her.

‘Loki and Grace are in there. Needing privacy.’

Tony’s eyes widened in horror. ‘They better not be doing it near my books!’

Natasha threw her head back with laughter. ‘No, no. He’s teaching her to strengthen her mind again, but he nearly ripped my head off when I went in and interrupted.’

The team had all noticed Loki and Grace being a lot more affectionate with one another in the past week or so. They were happy for them both, of course. Though a few of them did still question why Loki was so soft with her and were a bit suspicious, and they wondered what she saw in him. But Thor was super happy for his brother, finding love.

‘Oh.’ Was all Tony said, but he did opt to not risk getting his head ripped off and headed elsewhere.

Inside the library, Loki had some low music playing and Grace was practising to block it out. She was slowly getting there, managing to block it out for seven seconds. It was hard work, mentally. But she was getting the hang of the technique, unable to believe what her own brain was actually capable of.

‘You’ve done really great, petal.’ Loki smiled when they finished and she sank back on the sofa with a groan.

‘I don’t get why it’s so tiring? It’s not like I’ve been running a marathon.’ She said as Loki sank into the sofa next to her.

‘It’s tiring mentally. It’s like your brain is running a marathon.’ Loki chuckled as he tapped her temple.

‘Hm… I guess that makes sense.’ She laughed. ‘Thank you for teaching me this, Loki. I really appreciate it.’

‘You’re welcome. You’re the best student I’ve ever had.’ Loki said as he put his arm around her and she snuggled into him.

‘I’m probably the only student you’ve ever had.’ She teased.

‘The cheek!’ Loki growled playfully and nipped her upper arm, making her squeak.

‘Do I sill get an A plus?’ She giggled, her face hidden against his chest.

Loki chuckled and stroked her hair. ‘Hmm, maybe an A minus.’

Later that afternoon Loki had to go away for a few hours with some of the others, on a mission. Whilst Grace knew it was going to be an easy enough mission for them, she still wanted to do something nice for Loki returning.

So she managed to sort out a cheese board for him, knowing how much he loved cheese, with grapes and crackers. She ran the bath in his room so it was toasty warm for his return and added some lavender from the garden. He often liked to soak on return after a fight, so she hoped he would be pleased with her idea.

When Loki returned to find Grace in his room, she was smiling and looked like she had been up to something.

‘What have you been up to, my little mischief maker?’ He hummed as she gave him a hug.

‘Head into the bathroom and see.’ She grinned up at him and took his hand to lead him in there.

She was so relieved to see he wasn’t injured, though she could tell he’d been fighting because of some dirt on his face and hands, and his forehead was a little sweaty.

Loki’s eyes lit up when he saw what she had prepared for him. Including the cheeseboard at the side of the bath, and a glass of wine.

‘Aww, petal. This is lovely, thank you.’ He said as he squeezed her hand.

‘Enjoy.’ She smiled up at him, then went to leave.

‘Grace… You’re welcome to join me? If you want to, that is… There’s no pressure if you don’t want to, I understand if you want to take it slow. Or if you don’t want to progress further at all, I’d understand.’ Loki rambled a bit, his cheeks even turned a little red for a moment.

Grace’s heart quickened yet melted at the same time, and she blushed a bit too. But the thought didn’t scare her, she wanted nothing more than to join him in the tub. Though she was a little shy at the thought of him seeing her completely naked, but then she did trust him.

‘I would love to… If you’re sure you’re not wanting some peace?’ She said shyly.

Loki’s smile widened and he gently stroked her cheek. ‘I am at peace when with you.’

‘You’re so full of cheese.’ Grace laughed.

Loki chuckled. ‘Not quite yet, but get your pretty little bum in that bath with me and we will both soon be full of cheese.’ He said as he tipped his head towards said cheeseboard that was waiting to be devoured.

Loki simply had his clothes vanish in an instant, Grace blushed and tried not to look. Though Loki certainly didn’t mind.

‘May I?’ He asked, motioning to the blouse she was wearing.

Grace swallowed hard and nodded, opting to just stare at his chest that was directly on front of her while he carefully began unbuttoning her blouse. He could have just used his seidr to undress her too, but there was no fun in that.

When he slipped her blouse off her shoulders, he leaned forward and kissed her left shoulder before sliding a hand round behind her to undo her bra strap. He struggled for a moment with one hand, making her giggle, so he reached around with both hands to get the job done. He had to contain a groan when he let it fall to the floor, and tried not to stare at her for too long.

He cleared his throat and got to work on getting her out of her jeans and knickers, which he did in one go. She felt slightly embarrassed, she had never wanted to gain the approval of someone so much before. But with Loki, she wanted nothing more.

Her face was bright red, Loki thought she was going to combust. ‘You are absolutely beautiful, petal.’ He said as he gazed into her eyes, gently holding her chin.

His words and the way he spoke made her feel like a Goddess. Though still didn’t really get rid of her shyness. But Loki took her hand and helped her into the hot bath, then he slipped in behind her. He was careful as he manoeuvred them both into a comfortable position where she was caged in between his legs with her back to his chest.

Loki kissed the top of her head. ‘This is perfect.’ He hummed, then using his seidr he had the cheeseboard hover just on front of them and he summoned a second glass of wine for her, too.

‘It sure is.’ She said in contentment as they both tucked into the cheese.

-

When Loki and Grace went to join the rest of the team for a late dinner, they all sat at the large dining table to tuck into pasta that Bruce had cooked up.

‘Oh, good news everyone.’ Tony announced. ‘We’ve completed the cell to contain Kilgrave. Wanda has tested it out and it works perfectly. We will be able to contain him in there and speak to him without his powers affecting us on the outside.’

Grace felt her stomach drop, suddenly she didn’t feel so hungry anymore and she leaned back a little from the table and put her fork down on her dish. Loki noticed the change in her demeanour and he put his hand on her knee under the table, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

‘Are you sure it works?’ Loki asked.

‘Totally, like I said, we had Wanda test it. It’s perfectly safe.’ Tony said proudly.

‘But now we just need to capture him, which is going to be easier said than done. We still haven’t even laid eyes on him in the city, though we know he is here still causing all the issues.’ Natasha said.

‘We need to lure him out somehow.’ Steve pondered.

‘We need some sort of bait.’ Tony trailed off and looked at Grace, then the whole team was suddenly looking at her.

‘NO. Absolutely NOT.’ Loki growled from beside Grace as he glared hard at the team. ‘She is not bait, and she is not going anywhere near him. I will NOT have you imbeciles putting her in danger.’ He said firmly.

He stood abruptly from the table, picked up his dish and Grace’s too. ‘Come on, Grace. Let’s eat elsewhere.’

Grace stood up quickly, wanting to get away from them. She clung to Loki’s arm as they made their way back to his room. He put their dishes down and she hugged him tightly, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss on the top of her head.

‘I promise, I won’t let them do that to you. They will need to figure out another way.’ Loki said softly, he could tell she was scared, he could feel her shaking slightly and hear her trying to hold back tears.

‘Thank you…’ She whispered against him.

Loki’s response was to hold her tighter.

Hell would freeze over a thousand times before Loki would let that happen.