#teak work

[louiseweird]

Outdoor Kitchen San Diego A small backyard with a concrete patio and kitchen shown without a cover.

[gyamfieric]

Some  other days...

Teak Atlas: From where do we begin? 2022/2023

As part of  “Tracing Emerging Ecologies”  curated by Baerbel Mueller and Juergen Stromayer

[hackoftheyear]

Opened the notes specifically hoping someone else would notice how ugly the benches are. They probably looked terrible within three weeks

[woodindustries]

IBAIS MEDIA - WOODEN

[rackartyg]

love coming home to my parents and spending every minute humouring my dad's current special interest. meanwhile if i so much as breathe a word of mine ...

[shotmrmiller]

need simon to be retired and living in the middle of nowhere with a car-fixing hobby, and you're pulling into his 'shop' because you were road-tripping across the country and now some funky noises are happening underneath the hood.

you tentatively walk towards the open garage, only to spot him under some run-down vehicle that has more rust than sun-faded paint, deflated tires, and a license plate that's also got rust gnawing at the edges, the numbers on it barely discernable.

you rap your knuckles gently on the weathered car, and the wheels of the creeper he's on squeak in protest under him as he rolls out to look at you, filthy gloves smearing the dust on his brow instead of wiping it away.

"err, hi. uh, i was pointed this way by some lovely folk that work in that diner down the way, and they said that you could take a look at my car."

he rises smoothly, even though his joints pop as he does, dark eyes squinting against the sun. he towers over you with broad shoulders and thick arms. a tough-as-teak country man.

you start when he speaks, deep voice echoing off of dusty walls. "they said tha', did they?" he lifts the hem of his grease-stained wife beater to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead, and your gaze involuntarily wanders to the thick trail of coarse, dark hair under his navel.

"what's wrong with it?"

if you knew that, you wouldn't be here, blatantly ogling him in some decrepit workshop located in a sleepy corner of the countryside. "i don't know. it's making some scary popping noises and figured that it needed to be looked at, asap."

your grimace is involuntary when he extends an oil-streaked gloved hand. you really hope he's not expecting you to-

"keys."

right. you wordlessly hand them over and walk a few steps behind him as he heads toward the front of your car. "did ya get it looked at before your trip?"

you want to snap at him, that obviously you did. you may not be some car wizard, however, you can do the bare minimum for it but he's your only hope for getting the hell out of here, so you press your tongue against the back of your teeth for a moment before answering.

"yes. i did prepare for it. got new tires, an oil change, and anything else it may have needed."

he hums at your answer, a low sound in the back of his throat, and curls his fingers under the hood and begins to feel for the release. your mind is in the gutter as your eyes linger on his sun-kissed skin, watching the tendons on his inked forearm ripple with each movement.

your mind is snapped back to reality when he mutters, "i hope ya don't think i'm doin' this for free."

"wouldn't dream of it. you don't seem the charitable type."

the latch yields under his fingertips, and the hood springs open. "i'd say i'm pretty charitable, considerin' i'm even helpin' ya with this."

your eyebrows furrow, corners of your lips pulling downward. "what, were you closed or something?"

he gives you a small smirk while his hand searches for the prop rod inside the engine bay. "do i look like a business, sweetheart?"

embarrassment burns your cheeks, and your mouth gapes unprettily as you turn around to truly take in the place. past the grease-smeared floors, there's rust blooming on the only workbench in the garage, a single red toolbox resting on the ground. there's a car jack tossed in a corner, a vibrant blue cooler by the door, and a few firearms on pegboard shelves. it looks like a simple garage. a personal one.

"oh my god," you stammer, "i'm so sorry, i just- the townsfolk, they led me to believe that you're a mechanic." how bloody mortifying.

he ducks his head under the hood, bending at the waist to lean over the engine, eyes swiftly scanning the machinery. "it's a hobby. i fix my own vehicles... and now yours, i reckon."

eventually, he turns the car on and listens to the engine roar to life before it begins to pop, standing over the open hood with thinned lips and furrowed brows.

he tells you that he can fix it, it'll just take a bit for the part to get here, obviously, so he recommends staying at a rented cabin in town for a few days— maybe even a week— and he'll give you a ride over.

he gets you there in no time, unsurprising because he drove the motorcycle far too fast— illegal, really. he helps you off the bike, your clammy hand in his much bigger, roughened one.

you rip off his helmet, pushing it into his barrel chest. "please never drive me around that fast again." he gives you a couple of pats to the shoulder, chuckling under his breath.

"unless you're plannin' on walkin' to get your car back, i can't promise tha'."

grrrreat.

(the issue was the serpentine belt, it was slightly frayed but the man kept you around for 2.5 weeks under the excuse of something taking too long, or the car being under worse condition. maybe he charges you a kidney for fixing it, and since you can't obviously pay that ridiculous amt of money, he tells you to go on a date with him. gross. or maybe he's a sane man and he just sends you on your way in 2 days time. idk. installs a gps in your car? keepin' tabs on ya cuz he plans on passing by wherever you live by complete coincidence.)

[othercrossee]

I'm too far gone

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Pressing

Jack Daniels x F!Reader, dude ranch AU

A Palomino oneshot, but can be read on its own

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: Jack marks you as his in an unexpected way.

Warnings: PWP, Jack's belt leaves an impression on reader's skin, unintentional branding, unprotected sex, long-distance relationship, desperate and feral cowboy, no physical descriptions of Reader, very lightly edited, written as part of the Palomino universe, set after the end of the series, but can be read as a oneshot on its own

Word count: 1.4k

Notes: This little story came from an ask sent in by 🐴 anon in December 2022, which I have long lost, about a song that mentions a guy’s belt buckle leaving marks on his girlfriend's inner thigh while fucking. Naturally, they thought of Jack’s belt. 🐴 anon, if you’re still here, thank you for the inspo and for your patience ❤️

Also thank you to @lola-lola-lola for getting me horn knee about our cowboy again 😘 Writing Palomino smut first thing in the year was not on my 2024 bingo card, and I’m not mad about it!

Cutest dividers by @firefly-graphics.

It’s been two and a half months. Week after wretched week of phone calls on stolen time. Day after day of aching to reach through the phone screen and the distance between you to touch him.

It’s hard being hundreds and hundreds of miles apart. It’s even harder on weeks when he’s in the mountains with no reception. Harder to find time to call when you have to work late and he has to get up at dawn.

But you endure it all - for days like this. 

It’s a rare weekend off in the high season, with Teak pulling back-to-back pack trips to cover for him, joking that he can’t take all his sighing and pining for his Darlin’ anymore.

Jack takes the last flight out on Friday night, arriving first thing on Saturday morning, before the city - or you - wake up. You’re half-buried under the duvet when the jingle of the key in the door jolts you from shallow slumber.

On unsteady feet, you wobble out into the hallway, crashing into the walls as you go, balance off-kilter from sleep.

But it’s ok - he catches you, all white t-shirt and tight blue jeans. Incognito, if you will, in casual sneakers, but the cowboy hat is on as always. You knock it off post-haste, burying your face in the side of his neck in a desperate need for contact, his warmth seeping into your skin and wrapping you up in the deepest of comforts.

His hair is longer than he usually keeps it, and your fingers twist into his tousled curls when you pull back, taking in the stubble on his sharp jawline, and his tired eyes. But before you can say anything, he leans in and slants his lips over yours.

The taste of airplane coffee is sharp and bitter on his tongue as he kisses you deep and messy. You startle when he suddenly slams the door shut behind him, not realising it was still open, and his beat-up weekend bag is tossed carelessly behind him somewhere in the doorway. 

The legs of the kitchen table scrape jarringly against the floor as he crowds you onto it, big hands cupping your ass and pulling you against his straining erection through his jeans.

‘Fuck, it’s been too long, darlin’.’ His voice is gravelly from an apparently sleepless overnight flight, and hearing his voice finally on the shell of your ear has you whimpering needily.

‘Can’t wait any more,’ he growls, desperation thick in his voice.

With a flick of his wrists, he shucks off your ratty sleep shirt, eyes hooded as he gazes down at your tits, like he can’t believe he’s actually touching you. Cupping them, soft and heavy, with reverent, rope-worn palms, he sucks one nipple after the other between his lips, making you squirm against him and leak wet and sticky between your thighs.

Strong hands hold you in place easily as you buck, the scrape of his moustache almost painful on your over-sensitive skin, nerve endings on fire after being deprived for long weeks. 

Too impatient to wait, you tug your pyjamas shorts down your hips and kick them off clumsily, panties tangled in your damp folds as you writhe under him. 

You feel the breath catch in his broad chest at the peek of your pussy, a rapidly growing damp spot darkening your cotton underwear. Hooking his thumb under the fabric, he tugs it unceremoniously to the side, baring you to him. 

‘Look at all this,’ he marvels, tracing the fleshy pad of his thumb through your folds, making you arch clean off the table. ‘So wet for me and you’ve barely woken up.’

‘Been thinking about you the while night,’ you admit, hips twitching as you chase his touch. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’

‘Did you touch yourself, darlin’?’

You shake your head vehemently. ‘No. Wanted your fingers. Your cock.’

His nostrils flare at your answer, unabashedly possessive in the way he looms over you. 

‘Good girl,’ he murmurs into your throat, nosing the side of your neck while thick fingers thrum against your clit. ‘I was so hard for you the whole fuckin’ flight.’ 

As if to prove it to you - not that you need it - he rolls his hips into your inner thigh, the hard bulge undeniable.

You mewl, hooking your ankles around his waist. ‘Fuck me now, Jack - please.’

There’s a wordless fumble for the solid sterling flask bottle of his belt buckle, his usual level-headed composure nowhere to be found as he pushes down his jeans with shaking hands, just enough to pull his cock out of its denim confines - 

And then he thrusts home inside you.

After months of only your fingers, it’s a stretch. But what a delicious stretch it is.

You feel him throb deep inside you, feel the thunder of a pained groan in his chest, pressed up against yours. Your cunt is all slick and give to his determined strokes as he begins to move. 

There’s no finesse, hardly any awareness, when he fucks frantically into you. His solid weight pins you to the table, and it rattles precariously under your back.

Your legs are splayed obscenely wide and bent at the knees while Jack pounds into your wet heat, eyes wild and mouth hanging open, watching your tits bounce as you take him, your nails digging into the cotton of his white t-shirt. He never did take off your panties, and the fabric rubs your clit just so with every one of his thrusts, rapidly sending you to the edge.

In the back of your mind, you’re aware of the coarse scrape of his jeans against your inner thighs, and something digs hard into the tender skin, the repeated motion dulling the sensation to an almost numb pressure. 

When you cum, you’re crying out before your head catches up, your body convulsing with blind bliss as your pussy clenches around him in a hot rush. The blood pounding in your ears is drowned out by your chants of his name, and then his hips start to stutter and his whole body tenses, frantic eyes on yours as he teeters on the edge. 

‘Where, darlin’?’

‘Inside me.’

The words have barely left you and he’s coming, broken pants against your lips as he comes and comes and comes - spilling inside you, filling you to the brim until he’s empty, turned inside out.

Slumped, boneless on top of you, humid pants pressed into your shoulder, his fingers tangle with yours, squeezing as if to let you know that he’s here.

You almost doze off, the gradually slowing rise and fall of the cowboy’s broad chest a comforting anchor, when he rouses you with gentle lips along your jaw. You giggle, feeling him softening and sliding out of you, making a mess of your kitchen table. 

‘Mornin’ darlin’,’ he says somewhat belatedly, warm eyes crinkling as he smiles at you.

‘Morning,’ you grin back, and when he shifts, you wince at the ache in your joints from being pinned to one spot for this very vigorous wake up call. His hands smooth over your legs in apology, and you jump when his fingertips brush over somewhere at the juncture of your upper thigh that is surprisingly sore.

‘What’s that?’ you ask, puzzled.

Jack doesn’t answer, curiously quiet. You look down to where he’s bracketed between your legs, watching him trace his index finger over the unmistakable imprint of his distinct belt buckle on the inside of your thigh, where it’s been digging into your skin the whole time. 

He glances at you. ‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’

‘No, you didn’t,’ you give him a knowing grin. ‘And are you really sorry, cowboy?’

He doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Gently pinching your swollen folds together, he groans when a milky bead of his cum dribbles out of you, running down the inside of your leg and smearing onto the flask-shaped impression.

‘Ain’t sorry about somethin’ that looks this good on you, darlin’.’

‘Could’ve asked me before you branded me, you know,’ you half-joke, running your own finger along the deep lines carved into your skin, for now.

‘Beggin’ your pardon, I tend to forget my manners when I’m balls deep in a pussy as sweet as yours,’ he retorts, one eyebrow arching when he feels you shiver at his words.

You huff in jest, ‘Doesn’t sound like much of an apology if you asked me.’

‘Whatcha want, darlin’? Me on my hands and knees for you?’

Heat flashes under your skin, from your cheeks down to your toes, and Jack’s eyes darken as his tongue wets his bottom lip. ‘Alright. I hear you loud and clear, ma’am.’

Slowly, he sinks onto his knees in front of you, his joints creaking endearingly as he goes, and you can’t help but tease, ‘Easy there, cowboy.’

The wicked tip of his tongue peeks out, and you bite your lip in a moan when it cleverly traces the outline of the belt buckle on your skin, ending in a playful nip that pulls a gasp from you.

With an unapologetically smug grin, Jack winks. ‘I’m only just gettin’ started, darlin’.’

Note: Thank you for reading ❤️ I’ve missed these two, and if you’re new to Palomino, I hope you’ll give the series a chance!

[charminglyantiquated]

9/25 update on the Nautilus, for anyone curious. Details below (long), but in summary: the damage is more expensive than we'd hoped. We will have to buy Nautilus back as salvage and repair her mostly out of pocket. We still do intend to repair her, but it seems now it will be over a timeline of several years. The fundraiser for her repairs has been raised to reflect the new estimate, and will remain up as long as we're working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute. I'm so unbelievably, profoundly grateful to all of you who have helped us so far. Thank you so, so much.

Damage: a joint survey was conducted Tuesday between surveyors from our insurance and that of the other vessel. It will be another 3-4 weeks before we have the official paperwork, but the consensus was that the damage approaches twice Nautilus' value. In addition to the mast and all the attached rigging, sails, hardware, etc., the teak deck would have to come up in order to address the damage to the deck and hull. This means that rather than pay for repairs, our insurance company is almost certainly going to write her off as a total loss.

I am waiting for formal documentation before sharing any exact numbers. Once we have them I will be more precise. But the general process as I understand it right now is below, for anyone curious about how everything shakes out.

What a loss means with insurance: my understanding is that repair damages are only covered by insurance up to the point a vessel is totaled. Since the damages almost certainly surpass her value then she would be totaled instead. In this scenario, our insurance would give us the value the Nautilus was insured for, and then pursue the other vessel's insurance for their own reimbursement. Additionally the other insurance might give us the income we lost over the remainder of the season, but whether that will happen and what amount that would be is up in the air, with the three different attorneys we consulted agreeing that we'd be fortunate to get any amount. Anything beyond that is apparently unlikely, any other legal pursuit would possibly lose us more money that we might hope to gain.

On our end: we took out a loan to buy Nautilus in April, and still owe the majority of it. By the terms of the loan, with a total loss we would have to pay back the full loan immediately. Then, because this is essentially our insurance 'buying' Nautilus from us, we would have to buy her back as salvage. The salvage price would be determined by the salvageable parts of her, and the surveyor. Hopefully it would be less than five figures, but it depends heavily on which insurance company actually ends up with her, and how exhaustively they tally up the pieces of her that they could sell. The surveyors could not tell us at the time of the survey who would end up with her or what they would charge. For the next month or two Nautilus is in a kind of purgatory where we do still technically own her, but only until insurance gets through the paperwork, which makes it difficult to begin any work right now.

Financially: when the dust settles, once the loan is paid and we own Nautilus once more as salvage, I think that based on the current estimates we may have some funds remaining. But even in the best case scenario - low salvage price, and we do receive lost income - it wouldn't be enough to finance all the needed repairs. My partner and I will be keeping the fundraiser up for as long as we are working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute to her repair fund. Any help from anyone who would like to see her sailing again will always be deeply appreciated, but we're both aware it's an absurd number. If we fail to meet it, we're both keenly aware it's not through any lack of generosity - I cannot possibly express how grateful we are for the help we have received already, and what a massive difference it has made over the last month as we deal with the immediate and long-term fallout, covering her haul-out and towing and bills over the months it will likely take to resolve all this.

Fixing Nautilus: my partner and I are still committed to repairing her, despite the cost and the time involved. The thought of letting her be cut up for salvage is too heartbreaking to bear. But at the pace things are progressing and with the resources we have, it's obvious now that it's not feasible to fix her fully over the winter; it will instead be over the course of several years. However, my partner and I hope that by doing as much of the work ourselves as we are qualified for, we can bring down the overall cost of repairs by a fair amount. Additionally, the broken mast was built only a few years ago by a gentleman who still has the plans for it and is willing to guide us through the process of building a replacement. There is a possibility we can connect with a local boat building school's fledgling restoration program. And a great many people have offered their time, advice, expertise, and contacts. The timeline has changed, but we are not giving up on her.

In the meantime: with the survey done, we now have at least a general idea of what the future will look like. Since working nonstop to get Nautilus sailing again by June is not on the table any longer, my partner and I are currently figuring out a long-term plan for ourselves, our little company, and the Nautilus herself. We have discussed a few ideas, which I'll share more about once we settle on anything concrete. Nautilus herself is finally clear of wreckage, with the pieces of her mast on sawhorses beside her, her deck swept clean, solar panel plugged in, and a tarp over the worst of the damage. She's as safe as we can make her for now; there's nothing else we can do except wait for the wheels to turn.

Lastly: thank you all, more than I can say. I have been trying not to miserypost, but I have been having a very hard time dealing with this, as has my partner. It took us ten years to save the money we put into Nautilus, and the few months we were able to spend sailing her together were the happiest and proudest I have been in my life. We have lost the future we'd imagined, and regardless of how this resolves, we are never getting that time back. We are determined not to lose the Nautilus as well, but it has honestly been difficult some days to push through the grief. The one consistent silver lining has been the kindness and sympathy and outrage from everyone who has taken the time to reach out to us. I have been floored, over and over, by how many people we have rooting for us. I am never, ever going to be able to express my full gratitude to all of you. Without exaggeration, you have kept me going.

I will share more once we know more - exact numbers, exact damage, exact plans for repairs and the next steps. Until then, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

[cognitivejustice]

When we think of sustainable materials, bamboo, cork, recycled stone and reclaimed teak often come to mind. These building and surface materials are used extensively in both residential and commercial projects, enough to solidify them as the eco-friendly future of established architectural practices.

But what if we went even further? Creative and experimental designers worldwide are embracing much more unusual sustainable materials in a wide range of projects, be these sturdy floorboards and insulating panels, or small-scale decorative elements such as lamps, trays, vases and other furnishings. With designs hailing from Singapore and Indonesia, as well as distant studios in Italy and Palestine, here are the materials of tomorrow.

Mogu’s mycelium floor tiles

Mushroom filaments may not seem like the sturdiest base for hardwearing floors, but the Italian designers behind Mogu would argue otherwise. Transformed into resilient tiles appropriate for luxury residences and even commercial spaces, the mycelium structure is topped with a layer of bio-based resin, granting it resistance to scratches and abrasions rivalling traditional flooring materials.

Orange peel and pine needles make up the sustainable lampshades by Caracara Collective

Turning orange peel into useable furnishings and décor pieces is no small feat, yet the people behind the circularity-focused Caracara Collective in Finland have mastered this singular art. Inspired by the abundance of the natural, inherently sustainable materials around them, the designers created a series of lampshades made of orange peel, as well as pine needles from discarded Christmas trees.

As the collective puts it: “It takes around 20 squeezed oranges to create one lampshade. In other words, each lampshade is the by-product of someone drinking two litres of orange juice.”

Markos Design’s Ostra lamp, made of discarded oyster shells

Discarded oyster shells are similarly repurposed on the island of Cyprus, transformed by Markos Design into Ostra, a ceramic-like biomaterial. Ostra is worked into statement lamp designs, naturally hardwearing thanks to the oysters’ high concentration of calcium carbonate, which also lends cement and concrete considerable strength.

[selarina]

Bleeding Heart Dove

-> Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary: In the quiet routine of a strained marriage, a simple proposal for a trip offers a glimpse of hope.

Tags: angst, slow burn, marriage au, marital strain, emotional hurt/comfort, implied emotional neglect, second chance au, rainy day, fluff, suggestive, mention of reader having boobs, unresolved tension (they need to fuck nasty), unedited

Word Count: 970 words

Author's Note: it's raining and I finally got a surge to write something <3 anyway, bleeding heart dovessssssss have my heart

Read on AO3 | Part 2

Today had been sad and gloomy, the rain pouring relentlessly as the clouds had been crying since noon.

He tried to make his entrance small, creeping in like a nimble thief in the night. Slowly, he removed his sodden shoes and coat, hanging them up to dry. His umbrella he placed on the ground, even more slowly. See, it was an old one, and tended to spring up and about with sudden movement.

He stepped inside the kitchen now. There was food on the table, just as always. He uncovered the plastic wrapping and placed it in the oven, not even bothering to check what was for dinner. Hunger was gnawing at him and he would eat a human hand if you let him.

"Hello," a voice cut through.

"Oh," he turned, startled. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"I was up anyway," you replied. Your business clothes clung to you like the remnants of a very weary day. You must have returned late as well. "Let me help, Nanami."

He didn't say anything, simply stepping aside to let you tend to his plate and yours. He had assumed he'd have the whole meal for himself, a strange notion given the portion size. But given that he hadn't eaten all day, he didn't question the rationality at first. Now, it made sense — you hadn't eaten either.

He started setting up the glasses, placing two for wine and two for water, movements mechanical and jittery.

"Here," you said, appearing before him with a corkscrew in hand, as if conjured by some quiet magic.

Your hands looked tired. Lagging. Your eyes bleary. An impulse stirred within him, as though a needle had pricked at his heart, he felt the urge to swipe his hands over your eyes, to wipe away the weariness. But he withheld.

"Thank you," he murmured, taking the corkscrew and setting to work on the bottle.

Your gaze lingered for a mere second on his hands, watching the way they flexed with the way he handled the bottle. Precise. Gentle.

"How was work?" you asked, turning to the oven.

He wonders if you actually cared about what he said. “Horrible,” he answered.

"Oh," you replied. Neutral. "Okay." Neutral again. It drove him a bit insane every time. But he was a calm man.

"And your work?" he asked.

"Oh, quite lovely," you replied, a soft, dove-like smile gracing your lips. It was a smile that brought a sting of sadness to his heart, for he knew you would not elaborate. Not for him.

"That's nice," he said, his voice hollow. He poured the wine into the glasses, filling yours to three-quarters and his to a scant half.

And then the two of you sat, on opposite ends of your teak dinner table. Eating and swallowing in silence. The clanking of the forks being the only music that filled the room. He thought about getting up to play set the record, playing some of those old jazz tunes you were quite fond of. But the record was likely dusty. It was much too much work.

So he remained seated, the silence between you so vast and impenetrable, it made you conscious about how loud you were chewing your food.

—

"Well," you returned from the bathroom. now clad in delicate sleep shorts and a camisole, applying your usual moisturizer to your elbows. "The water's cold," you commented.

"Yeah," he responded, glancing up from his spot on the bed. "Sorry, I prefer it cold so I didn't notice. I think it's the rain."

You chuckled, a sound that seemed almost out of place. "I know you prefer it cold, Nanami. We've been married for practically a millennium, for God's sake."

An exaggeration, of course. It had been six years. You did this a lot.

He offered a faint smile in response, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. "Right," he said.

He felt the bed dip slightly under your weight as you sat. "Will you get my back?" You asked, holding out the moisturiser as you turned to present your back.

He took it, as his hands lifted your camisole, all the way up. He poured some of the white lotion onto his hand as his eyes flickered up, only momentarily, to see your reflection in the mirror. The front half of your top had risen as well, cinching up your breasts.

His eyes trained back to your back, and he began to rub the cream in. Up and down. And up and down. And up and down. When he was finished, he smoothed down your top. He rubbed his hands over your shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze to let you know he was finished.

And then the two of you slept, side by side, waiting for sleep to come find you in the dark. And just then, he doesn't know how or why this happened so don't ask him. All he knew was that somewhere in those first twenty minutes, he had gotten up, his hands reaching for the night lamp to turn it on, leaving you sat up, surprised.

"What is it?" You had asked.

"We should go on a trip," he proposed, calmly.

"A trip," you squinted, your eyes adjusting to the sudden assault of light.

"Yes, we could go to Okinawa," he suggested.

You paused for a moment. "It's storming these days. The weather will be horrible."

"You pick," he said. "Wherever you want to go. We can go."

And then, you thought about it. For a few seconds, he was almost afraid you'd call him a foolish old man and fall back onto your pillow. But instead, you smiled—an earnest smile, outside of your usual politeness. And he felt his heart beating fresh blood.

"Okay, old man," you said. "I'll think of a place."

He smiled.

[cheri-2047]

Alhaitham as your study buddy headcanons

WEEKLY POLL!!! TAGS: none, fluff

AU: you and alhaitham are dormmates for college

CHARACTERS: alhaitham, mentions of tighnari

Every time you lose motivation, Alhaitham’s there to help. Sometimes his “motivating words” come off as a bit harsh but you know he doesn’t mean it that way

Sometimes if you’re cuddling on the couch, you’re answering problems and hes reading a book, he mutters “wrong” whenever you accidentally get it wrong

Theres always coffee in the pot. He sometimes drinks it just cause he likes the taste but he also makes extra for you

If youre struggling, he helps you, but not always in the kindest way 😭. Sometimes hed lose his patience but once he realizes he does, he tones it down a bit.

you’d catch him saying other words in other languages as your “background noise” whenever you study

If you and Alhaitham were in a project together, he’d be sometimes hard to work with but he tries to make it a breeze for you both.

Sometimes while your studying, he sits you on his lap while he watches tv and cuddles you closely (he may be strict, but he still loves affection from you)

Alhaitham genuinely is so proud of you for working hard. He doesn’t say it, but he shows it. Sometimes you’d wake up to your favorite breakfast (and “coincidentally” your favorite lunch and dinner) or sometimes little gifts for you.

sometimes while you’re both studying, you lay on his chest and he caressed your hair while you read. (Then during the test, he hands you his perfume cause it was actually a study method to help you <3 [the study method where smelling the same thing helps you remember])

Sometimes when you study too long and not take a break, he carries you to the dining table and forces you to eat and carries you to the bed and forces you to sleep (and no he will not back down)

other days when he studies too long, you’d have to remove his ear defenders and force him to teak a break. How? That’s up to you

sometimes he asks his friend tighnari to come over if you ever need help with biology

hed be one of the kids who go “shh!” At every noise in the library, so genuinely strictly no speaking

He puts both his AND your tests on his phone calendar so if you forget, he reminds you to study the night before (and he helps you)

okay if one of y’all says he’s too affectionate, jusf because someone is stoic and sarcastic doesn’t mean being affectionate is immediately out of the list. Anyways this was actually pretty fun to write. I’m running out of weekly poll ideas LMAO. Oh and comments are appreciated !! (Any tips on anything, if I mischaracterized him or if u just wanna say hi) oh and I think around this week if I keep writing then I can open requests again!!

[notchainedtotrauma]

"What I need to say is, you are. The walls around your life, the silence around your death, and the language all work to erase you and remove you from me, but they are no stronger than my grief, because my grief is fueled by love and I claim you. And I’ve come back for all the names I’ve never known since you were stolen. '

from Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals by Alexis Pauline Gumbs

J. Alphonse Nicholson as Lil Murda and John Clarence Stewart as Thaddeus (Teak) Wilks in P. Valley created and executive produced by Katori Hall

[simsantoinc]

Toddler Bed Addons For A Few CC Sets

I was cleaning out some cc in the kids section, and making a few toddler beds has been on my projects list for a while so I '''''cleaned''''' my downloads by making more cc. I picked sets that have several objects and nursery items. I cloned them Michelle's teak toddler bed which is a clone of Rebecah's pine toddler bed. The beds make toddler management easier buy letting them go to bed and get up on their own. They change into sleepwear right before getting in bed and back to everyday after getting up.

Included toddler beds for:

Art deco store set. Repo'd to the double bed. Also works well with lunie's art deco addon crib and changing table.

Veranka's Bubu set. Repo'd to BuBu Kitchen Master.

Sims2Play's Hansen set. Repo'd to the double bed. It should work regardless if you have the double bed from hafi's repo'd set, hodadk's repod'd set or some archive of the original. I know jacci made one back in 2011, but I made my own since I prefer how the beds based on Beck's pine bed work.

Moune's Torrox set. Repo'd to the Torrox dining chair.

All files are compressed with included preview and main meshes. I renamed 3 of the main meshes so watch out for duplicates in your download folder.

Download | Alt

[madraynesims]

Old Thyme Furniture Set Converted from The Sims 2 Console and Pets Console for The Sims 2, Sims 3 and The Sims 4

Hi everyone :) Here's another wonderful set I love from The Sims 2 console! Yet another 3x2 large dining table! (currently only available for The Sims 2) For whatever reason, only the Old Thyme end table and dining table are featured in the pets console version, not the dining chair or bed. I created the bedding using The Sims 3 create-a-style system for the texture. I tried making one using the original console texture and it just didn't look too great. Also, the dining chair is called, "Touch of Teak Dinette Chair" instead of Old Thyme, borrowing a familiar name from the Sims 1. I've also created optional addons to the Old Thyme Dining Table, so there's a variety of sizes. Info below the cut. Let me know if you run into any problems! The Sims 2 console collection file for The Sims 2 and The Sims 3 can be found on my collection files page: Found Here

Downloads:

Old Thyme Furniture Set For The Sims 2 - SFS For The Sims 3 - SFS For The Sims 4 - SFS Old Thyme Dining Table Addons For The Sims 2 - SFS - requires Old Thyme End Table For The Sims 3 - SFS For The Sims 4 - SFS Alt Download - Patreon Enjoy my work? Consider becoming a Patreon or buying me a coffee!

Old Thyme End Table Information: Parent file! Mesh and textures were extracted and converted by me. The Sims 2: Required. All files are repo'd to this object since they all use the same texture. The Sims 3: Fully Create-A-Style enabled for the 2nd swatch. 1st swatch uses an overlay for accuracy. Has 9 deco slots, shown in last photo. Price - §440 Category - ‘Surfaces > End Tables’ Polycount - 122 Texture Size - 256x256

Touch of Teak Dinette Chair Information: Mesh and textures were extracted and converted by me. The Sims 2: Requires Old Thyme End Table for texture. Standalone for other versions The Sims 3: Fully Create-A-Style enabled for the 2nd swatch. 1st swatch uses an overlay for accuracy. Price - §525 Category - ‘Comfort > Dining Chairs’ Polycount - 184 Texture Size - 256x256

The "Vallarta" Information: Mesh and textures were extracted and converted by me. The Sims 2: Requires Old Thyme End Table for frame texture. Standalone for other versions The Sims 3: Bedding is Create-A-Style enabled, not the frame. The Sims 4: Bed is separated into a "frame" and "mattress" Price - §850 Category - ‘Comfort > Beds’ Polycount - 1648

Old Thyme Dining Table 3x2 Information: Mesh and textures were extracted and converted by me. Only available for The Sims 2 Requires Old Thyme End Table for frame texture. Standalone for other versions Has 15 deco slots, shown in last photo. Price - §750 Category - ‘Surfaces > Dining Tables’ Polycount - 94 Texture Size - 256x256

Bonus For All Game Versions Old Thyme Dining Table 1x1, 2x1, 3x1, 2x2 Information: Mesh and textures were extracted and converted by me. The Sims 2: Requires Old Thyme End Table for frame texture. Standalone for other versionsThe Sims 3: Fully Create-A-Style enabled for the 2nd swatch. 1st swatch uses an overlay for accuracy. Prices 1x1 - §125, 2x1 - $250, 3x1 - $375, 2x2 - $500 Category - ‘Surfaces > Dining Tables’ Polycount - 88 Texture Size - 256x256

[beautification-tales]

The Flight part 1

An Outbreak Story

Holly had always wondered what it felt like to be on a yacht. The white, billowing sails stretched taut against the blue sky, the sea breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean. As she stepped onto the luxurious vessel, her eyes darted around, taking in the gleaming teak deck, the shiny fiberglass hull, and the well-appointed cabins. She couldn't help but marvel at the sheer extravagance that surrounded her.

She walked confidently on the deck ready to sunbathe her bright blue bikini hugging her curves. As she stretched out on one of the plush loungers, she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. A cool breeze ruffled her hair, and she closed her eyes, letting the peaceful sounds of the ocean lull her into a state of relaxation. She felt a tap on her shoulder and opened her eyes. Standing before her was the yacht's owner, a handsome, middle-aged man dressed casually in khaki shorts and a polo shirt.

"Hey baby." he asked with a warm smile. "You are looking magnificent as always." Holly smiled as she arched her back looking up at him. “Babe, what did I say about wearing khaki shorts? You’re a millionaire and this is your ship. Now take them off sailor.” He chuckled and started to unbutton his shorts. She watched as they fell to the deck revealing his tan, muscular legs. He climbed onto the lounger next to her and propped himself up on one elbow.

“Did you hear the news about the outbreak?” The man asked in a woman’s voice. “Huh? What outbreak?” Holly shook her head as the man became fuzzy. She closed her eyes and opened them again. A black haired flight attendant was standing in front of her in the galley. She pulled her phone out and showed the story to Holly. Holly sighed as she realized she was no longer in her fantasy but back on her shift on the international flight. Holly held Lucy’s phone and read the article. Holly nervously bit her nails and wiped her uniform off as she read. “It says it’s airborne already.” Holly groaned. “I can’t do another Covid!” She handed the phone back to good friend Lucy.

“Yeah! But it’s like a weird disease. Some people get really sick but others….” Lucy trailed off not knowing how to explain it. “Others.. what Lucy?” Holly asked, her voice tense. “Well they change but it’s like hard to believe what I was reading.” Lucy said nervously, looking around the galley. Holly nodded, feeling a chill run down her spine. They both knew they had to focus on their jobs, but the news was hard to ignore. Holly bit her nails again before asking. “You think it might have reached Australia yet?” Holly asked as they had just left the country on their way to L.A.

Lucy shrugged, looking worried. They both knew it was only a matter of time before they found out. In the meantime, they had to go back to their duties. Holly attended to the first class passengers as she eyed the middle aged man reading from his paper. “Sir?” she said politely, trying to catch his attention. The man looked up from his screen, his blue eyes meeting hers. He smiled warmly.

“Umm, is there anything I can get you, sir? Another drink? A snack perhaps?" Holly asked, trying to catch his attention. The man shook his head, his smile never wavering. "No, thank you, Holly. I'm just catching up on some work here. You know how it is." He chuckled, and she couldn't help but smile back. "Of course, sir. I'm here if you need anything."

Holly brought the cart back to the galley as she found Lucy sitting reading from her phone. Holly wanting to distract Lucy brought up a new subject. “Hey did you see the guy in L6?” She asked, motioning to the business class section of the plane. Lucy nodded, looking up from her phone. “Yeah that’s Brent Book he owns that new tech company. Heard he was a real playboy back in the day. Not bad for his age though, huh? I wonder what he does on these flights...." Holly grinned, imagining the possibilities.

“I bet he still flies commercial because he has a thing for flight attendants.” Holly winked, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. She glanced over at the man in question, wondering what it would be like to be with someone like that. Holly was a sweet competent flight attendant but desired the life Lucy and many of her colleagues had. Holly was a bit average looking and her friends like Lucy got all the attention. Lucy was always glued to her phone because she had over 100 k followers on TikTok. Lucy would brag and show off the hundreds of DM’s she received as Holly read them with envy. Rich businessman and eligible bachelors would take her on amazing dates as Holly spent nights alone in her hotel.

“Oh yeah?” Lucy said as she got up from her bucket seat. “Let’s see if I can get his number.” Lucy adjusted her stockings and breasts as she walked into business class pretending to check on passengers. Lucy reached Brent’s seat and leaned down with a seductive look. Holly looked on with jealousy as Brent laughed and talked with Lucy.

A bell went off and it was a passenger in economy in . “Just great.” Hollly grumbled as she put on her fake smile and went to help them. As she reached the passenger she saw he was shivering and sweating at the same time. His face was pale as he rubbed his shoulders. “How can I help you?” Holly asked, her brow furrowed with concern. “Yes, I’m feeling really cold all of a sudden. Can I get a blanket?” The man asked, his voice barely a whisper. Holly nodded and went to get him a blanket from the galley. As she returned the man coughed in his hand as Holly leaned over to hand him the blanket. The man sneezed violently as fluid hit Holly’s face. “Are you ok sir? Are you feeling sick?” Holly asked, her face now inches from his. “No, so sorry about that. I am just feeling cold. Thank you for the blanket.”

Holly and Lucy exchanged stories when they met in the back again. “So he said he doesn’t go on TikTok but he has one for his company.” Lucy explained. Holly nodded, a little disappointed. Holly continued to wipe her face. “You are so lucky Lucy. You got to flirt with an almost billionaire while I was in the bathroom rinsing snot off my face. Ew I can still feel it. I think some got into my eyes.” She said, rubbing her face with a tissue.

“Yuck…. What if he’s infected?” Lucy whispered, her eyes wide with fear. “ Don’t you fucking go there Lucy!” Holly snapped, her tone harsher than she intended. They both looked at each other, Lucy heard a notification ping from her phone. “Oh my God! His company is following me now! Look!” She showed Holly her phone, Brent Book's company was now following her on TikTok. Holly couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. “Aaagh fuck your TikTok Lucy!” She yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. “Ok? Rude!” Lucy snapped back, crossing her arms. Holly went to her bucket seat as Lucy did the same. Holly began biting her nails as she read about the outbreak on her phone.

The captain's voice came over the intercom, announcing that the flight was halfway over The Pacific Ocean on target for L.A. Holly glanced at the clock, her heart racing. She couldn't shake the thought of the sick man from her mind. Lucy seemed to be oblivious to her friend's distress, busily engrossed in her phone, seeing if any celebrities slid into her DM’s. Holly felt sleepy as she felt her eyes closing.

It was two hours later that Holly woke up in a sweat. She felt her throat was dry and she was shivering uncontrollably. She glanced around and saw that Lucy was fast asleep, oblivious to her friend's distress. Holly struggled to sit up, her head throbbing with pain. As she grabbed a bottle she guzzled it all in seconds. It was then she heard a ping from business class. She forced herself to stand, her legs wobbly, and walked unsteadily to the curtain. Holly felt a bit woozy and heavy. She approached Brent who was deep in his phone. “Can I help you sir?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah Lucy, I was looking at your TikTok and…” Brent finally looked up and adjusted his glasses. “I’m so sorry you’re not Lucy.” He said, his face flushed.

“No, I can get her for you.” Holly said, her voice barely audible. She felt dizzy and her vision was starting to blur. Brent looked at her strangely. He sat up and said. “No, that’s ok but what’s your name?” Holly forced a smile. “Holly sir.” Brent gave a confused look. “Really? I could have sworn there was another flight attendant named Holly on this flight. I haven’t met you. Are you an influencer like Lucy?” Holly felt confused as he noticed Brent looked a bit uncomfortable as his hands were in his lap.

“Umm are you ok Mr. Book?” Holly asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and it seemed to intensify the more she stared. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and she could see his face get red at her question. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine and please call me Brent.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but it came out a little strained.

Holly quickly glanced down at Brent’s hands and could see that he was covering a bulge. She could feel her face heat up and her heart start to race. She knew what was causing that bulge, and it made her even more nervous. "Of course, Brent. Is there anything I can get you?” she asked, trying not to stare at his pants. “Not right now but I have a feeling I might need assistance later.” He winked at her, making her blush even deeper. She quickly looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

Holly walked quickly to the galley. Lucy was still dozing away. Holly rushed into the bathroom and almost squealed at what she saw. The woman in the reflection was completely different. She was looking at this stunning blonde woman in her uniform. The hair was a bit disheveled but her body was slightly bigger. She looked down and fully realized how her bust was more pronounced. She reached and cupped her right breast, feeling the weight of it. "Oh momma like," she thought with a sly smile. She noticed her nail bitten fingernails were gone replaced by red nails that matched her red lips.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She remembered Brent’s reaction at seeing her. She smiled “So this is what it’s like being hot!” she thought to herself. As she continued to explore her new curves, she noticed something else. There was a strange tingling sensation between her legs. She had never experienced anything like it before. She couldn't help but wonder what it was and if it had anything to do with what was happening to her.

Holly left the galley with a bottle of water in her hand. She made it to Brent’s seat and took the cap off the bottle. “Hey, I thought you could use some water. Oh no! I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy!” Holly had dropped a few drops onto the crotch of Brent. He jumped a little in his seat but smiled at Holly. “It’s ok… not a big deal really. It’s not that much…” he said, trying to be polite. “No this is my fault! Let me help you clean up.” She quickly ran and got a towel as she began dabbing at Brent’s stain. “It’s ok.. I think it should …ungh.” Brent groaned as Holly knelt in the aisle and began rubbing at his crotch. Brent’s eyes widened as he looked at Holly’s sensual focused face. “Don’t worry Mr. Book. I’ll have you cleaned up in no time.” Her words were dripping with confidence. Holly laid the towel down as she continued to rub at Brent’s crotch.

She looked up at him and smiled, "Like I said. It was my fault so I need to take care of it.” Brent’s became red as he realized what was actually happening. He looked down her cleavage and licked his lips. “Oh no. I think it may have reached your boxers. Let me help you.” Holly said as she leaned over even more to get a closer look. She unbuckled his pants as Brent attempted to stop her. “Shhh, let me do my job.” She whispered, seductively. As she pulled down his boxers, Brent gasped, revealing his throbbing arousal. Holly looked up at him with a wicked grin.

She grasped his member as he shivered. He covered his mouth not wanting to wake the other passengers. Holly continued to stroke him, her grip firm and confident. She leaned closer and whispered, "I know just how to take care of this." Brent's heart raced as she increased her speed. Brent grabbed onto the sides of his seat as the pleasure was immense. “Ungh fuck!” He cried as he could feel himself close to release.

As she continued, Brent felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge. He tried to hold back, but it was no use. Holly could feel him twitching and knew what was coming soon. Brent erupted as almost a river of cum shot out of his cock. He completely relaxed as Holly took the towel and cleaned him. She pulled up his boxers and buckled his belt. “There we go. I’m so glad I could assist you. Remember to buckle your safety belt when the Captain turns on the light.” Brent in complete shock of what just happened nodded and smiled. He felt so relaxed that he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Holly wanted more. She had felt something unleashed in her. She was sexy, she was powerful and she was still horny.

-To Be Continued-