#waxcloth

[fumiakimorita]

[sunlitsorrows]

I had a dream about you.

We took grandfather’s great old picnic basket and filled it with bread still hot from the oven, honey and vinegar to dip the pieces in, jars of jams and jars of milk from the sheep—

—which ambushed us down by the river, and stole one of the jars of jam by its waxcloth seal—

—which we did manage to retrieve, but not before a good hour’s silliness chasing her though the wildflowers—

—and we spent all the rest of the morning laying in the shade of the old elderberry tree, with our feet in the sun, reading our favorite poems.

And later, after we had dozed off, to dream within this dream (joined by our fluffy thief, grown bored of her earlier mischief), when we awoke, we whiled away the remains of the afternoon playing tricks on the fish—

—which, though harmless, you felt guilty about anyway, so we shook out the crumbs from our blanket into the shallows, by way of apology—

—you were always so much kinder than I was—

—and when the sun began to set, we followed the smell of apple pie back down the long, be-chamomiled road home.

I am going there.

I wish you would come with me.

[supportblackart]

@eddy.kamuanga ✨ « Gender, Power, and Creativity » at Columbus Muséum of Art #SupportBlackArt #EddyKamuangaIlunga #Gender #Power #Creativity #WaxCloth #Coltan #EddyKamuangq https://www.instagram.com/p/B_S03e1hMoa/?igshid=57ff3dlzd1so

[vintagehomecollection]

Wooden cross inlaid with bone, a remarkable piece of folk art crafted by the owner, occupies a special niche in the object wall created to house a spectrum of folk pieces. An African bed serves as a bench; the stool next to it is also African.

American Country West, 1985

[elserkas]

Alma perdida! Así te llaman aveces por no seguir al rebaño!, quien va a querer sus playeritas! #calligraphy #calligraphyart #calligraphylettering #lettering #letra #waxcloth (en Santiago Pinotepa Nacional, Oaxaca, Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/CBB3PPbhPsk/?igshid=1j85s7gi3x6cw

[suzhoucobblers]

African bars bag https://en.pinkoi.com/product/9SMiF2Bn #waxcloth #africanwaxfabric #africanfabrics https://www.instagram.com/p/B_GiwcDFILP/?igshid=1ibru0anfos44

[pelerinbrodrej]

Kappa av vaxduken vi äter från

[oekomensch-blog]

Wax cloths?

what's your opinion on wax cloths instead of regular saran wrap? I've told my mum about wax cloths and she's actually liking the idea. What's your experience with wax cloths and are they worth buying? I would love to get my family to be a little sustainable too, without it being inconvenient for them.

So are wax cloths the right choice?

thanks for coming to my ted talk Cx

[pearlnesscologne]

New cool pack bags #coolpack #coolbag #stars #sawing #diy #sawingproject #waxcloth #cotton

[hellrazor000]

いよいよ今日です！ 金沢初上陸です。 Cramとタッグでお邪魔します！ Waveystoreからレアもの持ってきました！物販のWaveydepotもお楽しみに。もちろんCramのBeat Liveは最高なんで金沢の皆さん遊びましょう！ #hellrazor #thewaveydepot #cram #waxclothing (DEF) https://www.instagram.com/p/BvS0w-oHZKu/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=mmf52rn6mpak

[irrfahrer]

@irrfahrer​​ sent a transmission : Sitting on a chair beside Ben Ziv pulled on a strain of the mans hair to get his attention: “Look over here, pup! I need to take care of that kriffing bruises!"

         SOMETHING AKIN TO A YELP SPILLED FROM HIS LIPS when he felt his hair being pulled, ��the noise made more out of surprise than anything else,  he hadn’t been expecting it,  not when he was lost in his thoughts,  or rather he was trying to keep his mind at ease and not focusing on the way almost everything ached.    Face scrunching up but the action was quickly regretted when it only provided to flare up the pain of his bruises covered face,  that was what happened when he tended to bite more than he could chew,  he’d get into troubles,  and troubles more times than not resulted in him getting hurt in a way or the other,  despite the fact that it was something that could very well avoided if only he wouldn’t be so against using the Force.

          ❝  Was that necessary  ?  ❞    He huffed,  but despite the words his tone was light,  one of his hand reaching to run through his own hair when he turned around toward Ziv,  mouth stretching into a grin,  and yeah,  that kriffing hurt but Ben wasn’t going to budge.    ❝  You don’t have to,  I’ll be as good as new in a couple of week,  ❞    A wave of his hand,  almost in a dismissing way,  ❝  I’ve got worse.    This is nothing I can’t handle.  ❞

The Tynnan tilted her head to the side and grinned, although the grin looked very far from friendly or even amused and more like a baring of teeth that showed her carnivorous canine in all their not very soothing glory: “Yeh and I once fistfought a kriffing mad Rancor , looked like a raw piece of meat afterwards and healed from it- still its nothing I want to ever do again or feel again or feel even get close to how kriffed up I was afterwards.” Her tail wagged hard on the chair- while her grin could be interpreted as still amused it was the restless moving of her tail as if she was a unsettled lolth-cat that showed how very (worried over) irritated Ziv was with the others reckless behaviour. With nimble paws the Tynnan grabbed into her bag and pulled out a small wooden healing-oinment- bowl closed with a wax-cloth. Even with the waxcloth still bound to it with a thread it smelled earthy and wet, like teh heart of a deep old forest right after rain.

“‘I had worse’ is not something that one should be proud of or use to annoy the kriffing medic, because when the medic is annoyed the medic will become very kriffing nasty!” the young woman lifted a webbed finger in a warning, her tail wagging, wagging, wagging restlessly as she growled: “You do not want the Medic to become kriffing nasty, cub!” [ @ncxile ]

[woxbirdie]

Honey Oat Sourdough Recipe

well… cat’s out of the bag, I am indeed still alive and around on this goddamn site, so i might as well make some fucking Content in these weird, weird times, so here’s a recipe I sort of accidentally invented for honey oat sourdough

If you want like, regular sourdough, replace your oats with wholemeal or rye and ditch the honey and voila, you have the Food52 Table Loaf that’s my base recipe

Testimonials (there’s only one because due to physical distancing, I cannot feed other people my bread): 

e x t r e m e l y d e l i c i o u s Not too sweet at all Very good with butter Would quite happily absorb an entire loaf The chewy crust is also great And it's not too dense Abd the sourdough flavour is very good 

-- @itsmedontpanic​

Fair warning, for those who have never made sourdough: you will not have bread until the next day. You won’t spend the whole time in the kitchen! Sourdough’s super chill to make, it’s just like, a waiting game.

Asterisks refer to footnotes, but otherwise I have tried to write this so you can follow it linearly without reading through everything in advance. 

Ingredients:

- 60g sourdough starter* - 310g plain flour (or bread flour, if you can find some, which I absolutely cannot at the mo)  - 80g oats, blended until fine-ish - 1tbsp-ish honey - 8g salt - a lot of time at home to monitor the damn thing

Equipment 

since there’s nothing worse than getting halfway through a recipe and going “what the fuck is a banneton”

- big mixing bowl of some variety - waxcloth or plastic wrap and a tea towel you are able to make damp somehow - a cookie-sheet sized surface that can be floured properly (don’t laugh, my kitchen counter is garbage for this and I only recently finally got a big silpat which changed my goddamn life) - preferable, a benchscraper (I don’t own one) or a silicon spatula (I own two of these, this is what I use) although you can probably make do with like, a carefully wielded butter knife - a medium-sized, not-too-shallow bowl that you’re not going to need for 12+ hours, plus another clean linen or cotton tea towel OR a banneton (which is the thing these things are replacing) - enough room in your fridge to hold said bowl for 12+ hours - a sharp, non-serrated knife or clean razor blades - any one of: a Dutch oven, a medium+ sized Pyrex pie dish with a lid, or a second tier to your oven plus a roasting tray - a bread knife. No, i’m not kidding, you really do need a proper one unless you want to tear it apart with your hands which is I guess your choice

Method

1. Mix your starter with 250mL** water, then add your flour, oats, and honey, mix with your hands until it’s a shaggy dough. it’s gonna be sticky, which might suck a bit, but that’s sourdough for u. Cover with waxcloth or? I guess plastic wrap or a damp towel maybe? and let sit for about 20 mins or so 

2. Add the salt and another tablespoon of water and squish through until it’s fairly evenly mixed. Your dough will still be sticky but hopefully a tad less. It should also not be too dense -- it should sort of ooze a little when you pick it up. More on this later. Cover and let sit for half an hour. Don’t stress if it’s still shaggy instead of beautiful and smooth (in fact, with the oats, it’s gonna be lumpy for a While, but don’t stress, it will not be by the end).

3. Time for bulk fermentation! Every half hour to 45mins, wet your hands, slide them under each side of your dough, and pick it up a little. It should stretch (although the parts you’re not holding will probably still stick to the bowl); let it fold around itself, put it down, turn the bowl, and repeat until you’ve picked up everything and it’s dough shaped (it takes me about 4). This step is uncreatively referred to as “stretch and fold”. By the second stretch and fold, the dough should spill slowly over the sides of your hand with gravity if you pick it up; if it doesn’t, add more water, a little at a time, until you get to this stage (and do it early, or you’ll basically have to start bulk fermentation again). 

3b. Allegedly bulk fermentation takes 3 1/2-4 1/2 hours, although it has never in my life taken me less than about 5. Don’t bother timing it; it’s done when air bubbles start becoming obvious just under the surface. At this point, do one final, more gentle kind of stretch and fold (lift the edge and fold it into the middle, instead of stretching the whole dough) so you don’t deflate it. Leave for another half hour or so.

4. Gently turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface (use like, a wet spatula or something to release the sides from the bowl and stop it stretching too much as you do this). Flour your hands and fold the top edge to the middle, then each side, then the bottom, then each corner, then flip the dough over (make sure the surface is still floured) and tuck everything around so it’s a nice little dome. Stick whatever you’ve been using to cover it on top and let it rest until it’s relaxed (10+ minutes). (This is called preshaping.)

5. Flip it back over (learn from my mistakes! Don’t forget to do this!) and shape the dough; you don’t want it to deflate, but you want a bit of tension. You can do this however, but I fold the top down and then do the sides a little like a French braid, then roll the whole thing up from the bottom, fold the sides in, and flip it over. Flour the top thoroughly and then put it SEAM SIDE UP into whatever you’re using as a banneton (proofing basket); before my dad very kindly sent me a proper one for Easter, I was using a linen tea towel in a bowel, and that worked just fine. Cover with a tea towel and then gladwrap, or like, waxcloth seems to do the job alone just fine if you have it. Stick it in the fridge overnight or so (like, you can leave it there for up to 24 hours, it’s sourdough, it’s fine). 

6. Preheat your oven to Real Hot (I use about 230-240C, my dad apparently uses “as hot as his oven will go”?) and remove your dough from the fridge. I let my dough warm up for about an hour (or so) (I have a terrible habit of letting it overproof and having to reshape the dough right before baking, but sourdough seems to be pretty forgiving so this has never been a problem); my dad just puts it straight in, but either way, the dough should pass the poke test, where you poke it gently and the dough springs back a little but retains a little of the indent. Alternatively, does poking it feel like poking a water balloon? If so, you’re fine. 

7. Flour the bottom a little, then flip your dough out onto whatever you’re baking on (see step #8) and score it. Fancy bakers use razor blades; I just use a sort-of-sharp knife. Your scoring doesn’t matter; sometimes I do like, symbols, sometimes I just slash it in a couple of places. Don’t like, saw at it? But I absolutely go back and redo my cuts again; you should find that the cuts open up a little pretty much immediately (and if they don’t, they will not work great as scoring). 

8. So it turns out bread needs like, mad humidity to bake properly and Real Bakers have proper ovens but I have a shitty tiny portable thing and I make it work just fine, so you’ve got some options: 

a) Use a Dutch oven if you have it (I do not)

b) On a second rack of your oven, put a roasting pan half-full of water (I do not have a second tray of my oven)

c) Flip a Pyrex pie dish upside down (I do this) ie use the lid as a baking trap and the pie dish as a lid. 

If you’re doing the pan full of water thing, I can’t help you too much with timing (just check it after like, 35 mins or so? And keep checking?) but for everything else, I keep it in the “““dutch oven””” for 35 mins or so before removing the lid and baking for another 10-15 ish. Note that your oven will be different and also like...I swear baking time changes every time. I’ve never managed to burn it within about 50 mins, though, it’s just sometimes a tad dark (see below. It’s not burned! Just...very well baked.)

9. This is important. This is IMPORTANT. I cannot stress this enough. You cannot cut into this loaf until it’s cooled. I know it’s tempting. I KNOW. Your kitchen smells like fresh bread! It’s warm! It looks so good! Do not do it. The bread may be out of the oven but it’s still cooking! There is steam inside that bread and it needs to STAY THERE to set the damn crumb or you end up with the horrible gummy bread that I made for years before I learned a tiny bit of Bread Science. You are risking like, 2 days’ work for a moment’s satisfaction. Wait until it’s completely cool and then, yes, you can get that bread. 

Footnotes

is it really a sourdough recipe without a ton of fucking footnotes

* let’s talk starter. if you’re already up to speed on sourdough starter, all you need to know is that this 60g should be like, levain at this point i.e. ready to be fed again, not recently fed. 

if you’re brand new to sourdough starter, your first batch will take you about a week to get going***, but it’s very easy and only takes flour and water and the ability to remember to check things every 12 hours; alternatively, my understanding is basically any bakery will just let you have a little of theirs if you ask. 

You only need about 30g of it; feed it 30g of water, 30g of flour, stir it well and wipe the sides down and write the date somewhere on it in whiteboard marker, and you’ve successfully fed your starter. You’ll either want to leave it 12 hours before you use it (use the 60g for the recipe and feed it again with 30g of flour and water), or leave it like, 3 until it’s clearly active, and stick in the fridge until you need it (up to a week); feed it after you’ve pulled out the recipe quantity. You’ll have to feed it once a week regardless of whether you use it; my solution to this is to just make bread every Saturday. I do not trust any bread recipe that requires more than 60g of starter. Like, the reason I made this recipe was I was out of wholemeal and I couldn’t find a single goddamn honey oat sourdough recipe that didn’t require like 4 1/2 cups of starter which is ABSURD; the only time I use more than like, 1/4 cup of starter is if I’m planning to make something that doesn’t require bulk fermentation (like, idk, brownies or crackers or something). also, a lot of people swear by like, organic wholemeal or rye or spelt to feed their starters with but I haven’t seen any of those in shops for like, a month, and I only started my starter about 2 weeks before quarantine happened and didn’t want to commit to $10 for rye, so I can say from experience, you can just use regular old flour (although this might be why my dough takes so long to bulk ferment, probably). 

** ok look, idk the exact quantity of water?? because I don’t use bread flour, which is thirstier than regular flour, so I just know it’s “somewhat less than 300mL” and just deal with it; that said, oats are thirstier than wholewheat. either way, it’s better to err on the side of too little and add more water with the salt, than add too much and agonizingly add a teaspoon of flour every stretch and fold and hope it’s not gonna end up too dry after said flour hydrates. 

*** ok, when I made my own starter, I was following a recipe which I guess assumed I wanted to start a goddamn bakery or something so i burned a lot of flour. you don’t need to do this. add 30g of water to 30g of any kind of non-self-raising flour, cover, note the time, and leave in a warm place for 24 hours. If you’re using a clear jar or something, mark the level with a whiteboard marker; you’ll want to keep an eye on how much it rises. Discard half of it, and add 30g of water and 30g of flour, mix well. Leave for 24 hours. Discard 60g of it. Add 30g of water and 30g of flour, mix well. Leave for 12 hours. Repeat the last three steps until you’ve got something that bubbles appropriately and rises at least 30% within about 5 hours. Ta da! Starter. Many places claim it’s only ready if it doubles in 4 hours. Those places are lying, my bread comes out just fine and my dough’s never doubled; you just want something that’s clearly alive. If you get a thin grey liquid on top, your starter’s just hungry; stir the liquid back in and feed it. (It’ll just make the sourdough flavour stronger, it’s fine.) 

Final notes

Sourdough’s like, super chill and honest to god, my first sourdough bread came out better than any of the yeast breads I’d made over the years. It’s a very forgiving bread! Like, the 30-45 mins for stretch and fold is a guideline I personally forget all the time (I’ll go like, an hour and then go “oh whoops I had to do that” which may ALSO be why bulk fermentation takes me so long). Also if you’re looking for more resources, these YouTube videos here and here taught me a lot about the Bread Science (shout out to my dad, who’s been on the sourdough bandwagon since like, mid last year and got very excited when I joined him and sent me these videos). I know it’s a long time to wait for bread but like, I just do it around whatever else I’m doing (my D&D sessions currently have breaks where I have to go bake the sourdough). Stretch and fold takes like, a minute and a half when you get the hang of it, it’s all very low-stress, there’s no kneading (although I like kneading) so like...have fun. Make brod. Bon appetit.

[skruttet]

But the little Hemulen was not crocheting. She was laboriously writing in an exercise book in black waxcloth covers. “Strictly forbidden,” she wrote. “Strictly forbidden, strictly forbidden, strictly forbidden.” Five thousand times. It made her comforted and content to fill one page after another.

“How nice it feels to be good,” she thought quietly.

- Moominsummer Madness

[pikapeppa]

(Inquisadaartabras) For DADWC "I missed you" for Cole and Lyanna? I really really want every drop of fluff and sweetness, if you're willing

I am so sorry it took so long to fill this prompt, but I hope you enjoy it! Some Cole/Lyanna Lavellan fluff, with some bonus Sad Solas™. (I just really love Cole and Solas together… 😅)

This can be considered a continuation of Become Human, my little Colemance fic.

For @dadrunkwriting Friday! (~1500 words.) Read here on AO3 instead.

*******************

Cole walks the halls of Skyhold on quiet feet. The denizens of the castle are busy, occupied of hand and preoccupied of heart, and as Cole moves through the castle, he helps them through their days.

He eases aches that scrape their souls, and he brings comforts that will knit their hidden wounds. A piece of chocolate wrapped in waxcloth; a tattered book of poems from a lover lost; a blanket for a child whose ears are red and inflamed with cold. He stops to listen and he speaks a few words, and he watches as the relief swells and warms in their faces. Every time he helps, their eyes lock and latch on his face, and their thoughts are loud with surprise: strange boy, odd boy, how did he know, how did he see? It doesn’t matter, it’s exactly what I needed, thank you, thank you…

It is harder now that Cole is human. He hears the pain the way he did before, like the buzzing of bees at the back of his mind. But he feels their pain as well, in a way he never did before. Sadness, regret, self-recrimination and fear: they’re feelings he knows well, ones that his spirit self had seen and heard and wiped away with a press of a palm on more occasions than he can count.

But people from this side of the Veil cannot sweep their sadness away with a handful of good intents.

This is something Cole has always known, but never quite appreciated until he became more rooted in his human form. And perhaps it is why he does not quite recognize the sadness when it belongs to him.

He sits alone in the Great Hall at breakfast, a spoon in his hand but a hollow in his belly as he eyes the porridge in his bowl. He knows he needs to eat; human bodies need sustenance, or so Lyanna constantly reminds him. She would encourage him to eat, chestnut eyes dancing as she pushed a tray of toast toward him, and she would brush her golden hair behind her pointed ears before taking a bite of toast herself.

But Lyanna isn’t here.

Cole sighs and lifts his spoon. Lyanna left for Caer Oswin three days ago with Cassandra and Bull and Dorian. Varric thinks they will be back soon, but he couldn’t be certain as to when.

A warm little bubble rises in Cole’s throat at the thought of Lyanna’s return, then sinks again as he looks at the empty seat beside him, and he lowers his spoon back to his largely-untouched bowl. This rising and falling feeling in his belly and throat is wreaking havoc on his appetite, and Cole wonders if perhaps he is ill.

He sighs once more, then forces himself to eat, thinking all the while of Lyanna’s encouraging smile. By the time the porridge is gone, he feels as though a stone has been tucked into his gut.

He must be ill. He’s not sure what else the problem could be. Slowly and silently, he makes his way to the rotunda.

Solas is hard at work, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a frown on his face as he works on the final bottom corner of a fresco. Cole stands silently in the middle of the room and watches as Solas lays pigment on plaster with confident strokes of his brush.

“Good morning, Cole,” Solas says. His eyes are narrowed, gaze honed on the work of his diligent hands, but his voice is warm and welcoming.

Cole takes a step closer and eyes the freshly-painted fresco. “Careful steps, clammy hands, a breath held in the chest. She was scared the whole time, scared of missteps or mistakes, but she didn’t have to be. The masks have settled back in place.”

Solas’s cheeks lift in a smile. “Yes,” he says. “The Inquisitor did very well at Halamshiral, all things considered.” He glances over his shoulder at Cole, and his smile fades slightly at the corners of his lips.

He rises to his feet and wipes his hands on a paint-spattered cloth. “What brings you here this morning?” Solas asks. “You usually walk the grounds at this time of day. Is anything amiss?”

Cole twists his fingers together idly. “I think I might be ill. But I don’t know.”

Solas frowns, then ushers Cole to sit on the couch. He sits carefully on the arm of the couch and folds his hands. “Why do you believe you are ill? What symptoms are you suffering?”

Cole looks up at Solas. “A weight in my belly, cold and heavy. But sometimes I feel warm, like a bubble in my chest. Then it pops, and I feel heavy again.” His gaze drifts back to the frescoes: these bold, beautiful banners that proclaim Lyanna’s many deeds over the past few months.

He looks at Solas once more. “The warm feeling happens when I think of Lyanna. But then I… it feels empty, too, when I think of her, because she isn’t here.” He frowns. “This doesn’t mean Lyanna is ill too, does it? I hope not.”

Solas suddenly smiles, but the smile is twisted with sympathy. “Ah,” he says. “I believe I understand. Cole, when did these symptoms start?”

“Three days ago,” Cole says.

Solas nods confidently, then rises to his feet. “You are not ill,” he announces, then scratches the back of his head. “Not physically, in any case. Which is, of course, is the new problem you must learn to… well. In any case, Cole, I do not believe you are ill.”

Cole tilts his head quizzically. “I’m not?”

“No,” Solas says. “But you are… heartsick. You long for a person you love who isn’t here. And that often hurts like a physical wound.” He turns away and walks over to his desk, then idly runs a hand across the pile of tomes that is stacked on the corner.

He looks at Cole once more. “I am sorry to tell you this,” he says gently. “But the pain of something deeply loved and lost - that yearning, that longing ache… it can hurt far more than any simple bleeding wound ever could.”

Cole frowns worriedly at Solas’s smile. It is soft and sympathetic, and so full of tragedy that Cole can practically see the surging wave of melancholy rising behind the mage’s slate-grey eyes.

They gaze at each other in silence. They are spirits wreathed in solidity, one of them steeped in secrets and sadness and the other held high with hope and helping, and for a brief and fleeting moment, Cole wishes he were a simple spirit again so he could reach out and wipe the wolf’s pain away.

Solas’s gaze suddenly shifts to the left. His smile brightens with genuine amusement, and he turns back to his desk and starts tidying his papers. “Welcome home, Inquisitor,” he says.

Cole whips around, and there she is: Lyanna is framed in the doorway, her cheeks pink with cold but her brown eyes bright as they meet his gaze, and all at once, Cole’s belly is bursting with butterflies.

This is a feeling he recognizes. This buzzing excitement and warmth and fondness that fills his chest and makes his heart pound: this is a feeling that Cole knows well. It’s the feeling of kissing Lyanna’s carmine lips for the very first time. It’s the feeling of moving together in her bed, of her fragrant golden hair spread across his chest, of her laughter as she wipes cookie crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

A grin stretches across her lovely face, and Cole smiles back at her. At the back of his mind, he faintly hears Solas excusing himself and leaving the rotunda, but the bulk of his attention is focused on her: Lyanna is here, she’s home, and that weight in his belly, that ugly cold weight…

It’s gone. It’s disappeared, eradicated by her presence and the sight of her lovely face, and Cole takes an eager step toward her.

Lyanna flies toward him and launches herself into his arms, and Cole grins as she wraps her arms and legs around him. Her cheek is cold against his own, but her lips are warm as she kisses him firmly on the cheek.

“Hi, Cole,” she whispers in his ear.

He holds her up and hugs her tight, and her grassy fragrance fills his lungs as he breathes her in. She leans away to smile at him, and as he admires the freckles on her pinkened nose, he realizes that Solas was right.

He squeezes her slender curves in his arms. “I missed you,” he says. “I… I was sad when you weren’t here.”

She nuzzles him with the chilly tip of her nose. “I missed you, too,” she whispers. Then her lips are brushing his, gentle and sweet like an embrium petal, and as he sinks into the softness of her kiss, Cole feels himself relaxing for the first time in days.

Solas was right: that ache he felt, that heavy hurting ache, it was just another side of love. And if that ache is the price for loving Lyanna Lavellan, then it’s a price that Cole will gladly pay.

[elserkas]

Día de los muertos, edición especial por Serckas Fontseka para : @wax.cloth pide la tuya! 👌🔥✨#díademuertos #oaxaca #waxcloth #calavera #death https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj2uMcPrJtL/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[suzhoucobblers]

Africa bars bag from Suzhou Cobblers. https://en.pinkoi.com/product/9SMiF2Bn #waxcloth #handbags #africa https://www.instagram.com/p/B_GhryzFUqD/?igshid=18emn9c2zrdzo