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#white distressed breakfast chairs
simplycrazyhunter · 1 year
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Kitchen Newark
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Inspiration for a large timeless u-shaped medium tone wood floor and brown floor eat-in kitchen remodel with an undermount sink, beige backsplash, an island, recessed-panel cabinets, beige cabinets, quartz countertops, marble backsplash, paneled appliances and beige countertops
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chinxe · 1 year
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Kitchen Newark Inspiration for a large timeless u-shaped medium tone wood floor and brown floor eat-in kitchen remodel with an undermount sink, beige backsplash, an island, recessed-panel cabinets, beige cabinets, quartz countertops, marble backsplash, paneled appliances and beige countertops
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martiniblues · 1 year
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what a feeling ; 이민형
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pairing idol!mark x female!reader
synopsis it’s not easy keeping your relationship with your idol boyfriend a secret, especially when he’s halfway across the country and would do anything to hop on a plane and get you in an instant. but little does he know that you’ve already beat him to that idea.
genre established relationship, a teeny tiny bit of angst, reader uses she!her pronouns and is described in a feminine way, so so so much fluff, mutual comfort, slightly suggestive.
wc 1.6k
song : what a feeling by one direction
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mark: i would do anything in this world to be w you baby :(((
you: i knowwww but these next few weeks will go by so quick!!! we will be back together in no time<33
you quickly turned off your phone and adjusted your outfit for the hundredth time in the bathroom mirror. “i feel like i’m going to puke out my breakfast!” you leaned your back against the sink, facing one of mark’s staff members you had grown to befriend over your time as being mark’s girlfriend.
“it’s going to be fine. i promise you, he’s been doing nothing but talking about how much he misses you and begs his manager every chance he gets to let him fly out to you.” the words made you drop your head to avoid anyone seeing your flushed cheeks.
you and mark had been dating for awhile now, but it was your first time flying out to see him and see him perform outside of your home city.
what if he doesn’t want to see you?
what if he’s too stressed to see you?
“what if-“ you’re quickly cut off with multiple dings chiming from your friend’s phone. she quickly read the notifications and grabbed your arm.
“okay, they’re almost done running this last set, and then they’ll be back here.” she quickly drags you out of the hallway bathroom and into a new room.
a big white table sat against the wall with various foods, makeup, hair tools, and pieces of clothing scattered about. you noticed an oversized black and gray stripped hoodie that belonged to none other than your boyfriend. resisting the urge to grab it to warm your cold body, you hid behind the big white door, listening for any sound of the boys.
your heart began to race once you heard the hoots and hollers from the very familiar voices of mark’s members. talks of dinner and after-rehearsal plans hung in the air with no notice of mark’s voice.
the guys had already been informed of your plan, so when they greeted you with small hugs and smiles, you shouldn’t have been shocked. but there was no sign of your boyfriend anywhere among the eight men in front of you.
reading the puzzled look on your face, johnny answered, “he’s still working on his solo stage. the dumbass insisted he do it again, even though it’s perfect."
“if only he knew she was back here… man, he would forget all about being a perfectionist then.” yuta laughed as he joined johnny next to you.
“can you take me to him? i cant deal with the wait anymore.” you pouted, leaning against the wall, as you felt the wave of clattering butterflies begin to build in your stomach.
without a word, the two boys led you to the side of the stage where you could see mark sitting in a black chair, mic in hand, and body slouched back as he rapped smoothly.
it took everything in you to not run across the stage and pounce on him that instant, but something about the words coming out of his mouth and the vibe he carried in his subtle but sharp moves made you become entranced by him, as he always did to you.
“okay that was good, mark. we can rehearse more tomorrow!” a deep voice came over the speakers as the song stopped, leaving mark exhausted against his chair. your heart broke into a million little pieces, seeing the evident distress and exhaustion stitched in his figure.
“i think it looked perfect.” your mouth moved before your brain, not able to resist your boyfriend anymore. his head quickly snapped to your figure, which emerged into the stage lights only a few feet away from him.
“oh my god…” his voice came out quickly as his face pulled into an expression nothing less than shock, shooting up from his chair and bolting his body to yours.
his body slammed into yours before picking you up and spinning you around as his hands gripped onto you for dear life. “oh my fucking god” he let out again into your neck as you giggled and weaved your hands into his sweaty, messy hair.
“surpise!” you smiled so hard that you felt like your face might get stuck as you pulled back to look at mark, only to find him with the same expression.
“h-how… what? when did-“ his stuttering was quickly cut off by your lips on his. he slowly let your feet touch the ground and arched your body slightly as the kiss deepened quickly due to all the pent-up feelings the two of you shared for each other.
you couldn’t help your smile, teeth clanking slightly, before you pulled back to look at mark once again. “i couldn’t do the distance anymore. i had to see you.” your breathing came out ragged due to mark practically taking your breath away.
“you have no idea how close i was to flying out to you, baby” he said, swaying your bodies slightly, forgetting about the fact that you two were in the middle of a giant stage and had many people observing you.
“beat you to it though,” you sassed before a small ‘whatever’ left your boyfriend’s lips right as his fell onto yours again.
“this is so cute and everything, but can we please go eat?" haechan whined from one of the wings. the words made you two pull back in giggles, lacing your fingers together before following the guys off the stage.
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“see you two lovebirds later!” johnny waved while you and mark got out of his car. “and be safe!” haechan added quickly. before mark was able to slap him for his suggestive comment, the brunette locked his passenger side door swiftly.
after the last few goodbyes, you and mark made way to his airbnb he rented for this multi-day show.
“i can't believe this,” you breathed, swinging your joined hands enthusiastically. “believe what?” 
mark turned his body, quickly switching his hands so that he was still interlocked with you, but was now walking backwards facing you. a dopey smirk grew on his lips as you visibly reddened.
“this. us being here together finally.” you pulled him closer by his forearm, stopping the two of you directly in front of his door. not even reaching for his key, mark leaned down and kissed your lips for the thousandth time that night, but this one held a much greater weight than the rest.
his free hand perched itself on your lower back, warming the cool, exposed skin between your top and jeans. no matter how many times you and mark kissed (and maybe it was the prolonged distance causing this effect), this felt like the very first time.
chills blooming through every pore, heat taking over your body, brain melting into a mark-shaped puddle. he took over every sense, and you did the same to him.
“i love you so fucking much. i don’t think i can take this distance anymore.” he pulled back, lacking breath from your lips moving feverishly with his.
you two stood for a few heavy seconds, just staring at each other. if it weren’t for the dim light perched by the door, you wouldn’t have noticed the way mark’s eyes glossed over and how his lips pulled together into a straight line.
“i don’t think i can either.” you choked out, reaching for him again and pulling his body flush with yours. your hand raked itself in his hair, and the other wrapped its way around his broad shoulders. soft sniffles filled the now silent night, aside from the crickets chirping in the grass.
“i love you too.” you wiped his tears running down his soft cheeks and kissed them quickly before deciding to head inside.
the events following were slow and thoughtful. even if you both didn’t want to face the distance again, you knew it was inevitable.
you and mark were entangled in his bed. his head rested on your chest as he drew random swirls on your forearm while your other arm fell beneath his head. hand scratching his scalp repeatedly.
“i’ve never had this feeling before.” mark spoke into the silence. you moved your hand to tilt his head up level with yours. “what feeling?” you asked, assuming he was on the verge of falling asleep.
“just being beside you right now, holding you in my arms. it has me on fire. i’ve never felt this way about someone before."his eyes searched your face in a way that made you want to duck under the covers, but with his body practically on top of yours, that became undoable.
“me too. you make me feel things i didn’t even know were possible.” your words came out softly, embarrassed to be so vulnerable. "well, you could just say i’m amazing in bed but… i’ll take the more poetic version i guess.” you pushed his head away from you in annoyance at his dirty words.
“not like that, you freak!” the both of you giggled. mark pulled his body up to trap you beneath his arms. before you could even recover, he began littering your face with kisses.
“what a feeling!” he pulled away with a big smile on his face, teeth and all. it made you want to squeeze his cheeks from the sweetness of it all, but you resisted the urge.
“what a feeling!” you echoed, a smile pulling its way on your face in the same fashion as mark’s.
a few more kisses and loving gestures were exchanged before you two eventually fell asleep. consumed with this indescribable feeling rushing through your body, making you fall more and more in love.
if that was even possible.
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© martiniblues | do not copy or translate my work!
note: 1D x nctdream is TOO GOOD. i’m seriously debating on making this a little series w the dreamies (let me know what songs you think of with what member!!!) anyway, love you lots and please leave a like or reblog if you enjoyed!!
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coffeeghoulie · 4 months
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Mushy May Day 17: Funny T-shirts
Sunny likes to poke fun at Swiss with custom t-shirts, much to his chagrin.
Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers! <3
The note for this in my outline was "a la mercer and riegel" if that makes sense to anyone lol.
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Swiss looks up from his breakfast, a bowl of granola and berries and yogurt, as Sunny bounds into the kitchen, her copper curls bouncing as she enters with a suspicious spring in her step. "Hiya, spark!" She greets him, settling into one of the chairs across from him. Rain and Aurora look up as well, wishing the other multi-ghoulette a good morning.
His eyes settle on the collar of her oversized button up, clearly one of Aether's. "Morning, ember," he says, trying to copy her enthusiasm and not quite making it. "You go clothes raiding again?" He takes another bite of his breakfast, watching her expectantly. Something's not quite right here, button ups not usually Sunny's style.
She shrugs, still grinning, snatching the carafe of orange juice and pouring herself a glass. As Sunny leans to reach, the collar of the button up droops, revealing the hem of a bright orange t-shirt. Nothing more than that, but it's enough for Swiss's spoon to clink against his bowl as he buries his face in his hands.
"Another one, Sunny?" he groans. "How many shirts. Please."
Rain and Aurora turn, eyes brightening in intrigued laughter as Sunny takes a drink, smugly settling back in her chair.
"Now, Swissy, I have no idea what you could be talking about," she says, batting her eyelashes at him.
It's her favorite way to poke fun at him. Awful candid photos of him, blown up and custom printed somewhere online, hidden under zip up hoodies and button ups that she takes off to reveal like the world's most embarrassing strip tease. There have been ones taken while he's sleeping, mouth open, snoring and drooling, and ones that were the unfortunate results of a mistimed blink while taking pictures with the pack. Fortunately, or unfortunately for Sunny, there are no kit pictures, no way to bring them after being summoned Up Top.
He hates the way it makes his face burn, but it makes the pack laugh, and makes Sunny's cheeks dimple with her grin in a way that makes Swiss feels crazy. So he endures it. (He'll never admit that he thinks it's funny too.)
"Noooooo," he groans, peeking through his fingers as Sunny stands, unbuttoning her top button.
"How many of those do you have, sunbeam?" Rain asks, staring smugly at Swiss's over the top distress. "Ten? Twenty?"
"This one makes fourteen," Sunny says, undoing another two buttons.
Swiss rubs his temples, pretending a headache's coming on. "Emberrrrrrrr," he drags out in a groan. "Come on, get it over with."
"As you wish." Sunny copies his signature grin, all of her teeth on display, hands moving down farther and farther, each button slipping through the button hole. Finally, Aether's shirt falls open, revealing a Ritual picture of him.
It's the lowest quality picture of him Swiss has ever seen, only thing distinct about his features are the bug like lenses and the bright white of his teeth against the black helmet. He had been grinning menacingly at that Ritual, but the grainy picture makes him look dorky. There's words across the top and bottom, all caps in Impact font, declares "Swiss Shirt Bottom Text"
"I made a shirt for you, sparky!" Sunny beams, watching Swiss groan. "You like it?"
Swiss growls, silverware clattering as he shoots to his feet, Rain and Aurora's laughter echoing around the kitchen. Sunny squeaks, eyes wide as she darts off, Swiss in close pursuit.
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fertilize-my-eggs · 4 months
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Lusting after you ch.6
Let's the game begin.
Ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.7 ch.8 ch.9 ch.10 ch.11 ch.12 A03
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A/N: oh no reader is in big trouble, shiggy is gonna punisher her for being bad!! The next couple of chapters will be shiggy brat taming you until you finally break and become his both physically and mentally. Every chapter will be posted on Thursday!! Hope y'all enjoy this chapter. 😜
Reader’s pov
I sob loudly from this new change, I want my old life back!! I can't be some Damsel in distress, I have to fight back and have my old life be normal again.
The loud knock disturbed my thoughts as I softly sat up on these dirty cheap sheets.
“ Miss young Y/n, I've brought breakfast. "It's not shigaraki, it sounds too polite to be him, it's a different male one you're not similar with. I slowly get off the sheets to walk in front of the door.
The door opens wide to be greeted by a tall very stylish gentleman with soft dark tan skin. He looks to be like Butler, maybe a waiter at a restaurant. He held no emotional expression on his features. He has striking bright yellow eyes, with midnight black hair and a bit of purple tips at the ends.
He's holding a tray with a fancy breakfast, next to him was a young girl who looked to be a teenager as she had the unsettling smile and blonde messy hair that was being held by two buns.
She lunges at me as she gives a big bear hug.” yay a girl in our group!! Tomura-kun couldn't stop talking about you~!! ” she pokes my cheeks as she coo sweetly.
“ I can see why he was all lovey dovey with love!! You're beautiful~ '' she bites her lips as she leans in my ear.
“ Lemme drink your blood.. I bet it's sweet~!! ” I feel shivers run down my spine as she is being pulled away.
“ young master shigaraki doesn't want you near his room himiko. ” she's pouting at him as the tray is being given to you.
You saw the door being closed as you started to panic.
“ wait~!! ” I scream as the door is paused as I look at the man.
“ Is there a way to contact my family? ” There was a long silent pause as he finally spoke.
“ no. Young master shigaraki doesn't want you to contact anyone nor touch his items. ” he looks into your eyes with a sudden harsh expression.
“ He forbids you to behave in his room while he's done working.. “  he leans in and whispers.
“ You wouldn't want the young master to be upset, he has a harsh temper. ” as he closes the door with a click.
You heard the girl called himiko shout behind the door.” we should have a girl night out y/n-chan!! ” The footsteps being heard goes away as I look at the breakfast.
It has a bowl of fruit. Next to it was white rice on top of it was eggs with bacon.
It looks too fancy then your regular breakfast that you had. In your old life you couldn't afford any food, you just worked at a game store to make money and paid the rent from a shady apartment.
I sighed heavily, will people notice that I'm gone? I know Denki and Kirishima from my job are probably worried sick.
Those two will be reporting about my absence. 
I sat on the bed as I began to eat the food, it tasted better as well. Does shigaraki make more money to afford food? 
That sounds stupid of course he has a job, that's what the man says… I don't even know his name but yet he looks more intimidating than Shigaraki is.
Young master… he's gotta be younger than me as I take a bite of the fruit, it has a sweet taste and is freshly picked.
Once I finished with breakfast, it was time to find a way to escape. I saw a desk that had two moderators and a pc.
I can contact someone from my account, I don't think tomura has got to it from my phone…. I tilted my head a bit clueless, he probably has, I see my clothes and items on the floor but no phone in site. 
I sat down on the chair that looked a bit expensive, I started the pc up as I watched it turn on.
It was too bright in the darkness, I saw the screen and it needed a password… crap what his password, I began to look for a booklet or something that could possibly have his password.
No luck, I sighed in frustration as I put my hands up to my face as I looked at the door.
There is one way, I begin to get up as I run up to it. I slammed my fist on it as I scream bloody murder, I shouting loud to anyone to hear my cry for help.
Tomura’s pov
I put my fingers on my chin as I read the newspaper, my smirk grew so wide as the new talk about the league of villains.. his group, I've been working on it from the ground up. I bite my lips as it reads the destruction and fear from civilians that our group cost. 
Thank God they are not talking about stain, I can roll my eyes just thinking about it.
“ young master shigaraki. ” I tilted my head to look at Kurogiri with an annoyed look.
“ young Y/n has gotten her food. ” I smirk again as I hold my drink of whiskey, I take sips of it.
“... good, does she know about the rule-.. ” a loud crash can be heard as we look at the direction as I quickly look at Kurogiri in rage.
“ yes… I guess she doesn't care.. ” I huff some air out as I get up and start to stomp fast.
“ You'll be in charge of running the bar, I'll teach her some manners. ” I growl low as he nods his head in agreement. 
“ Of course, young master. ” I begin to speed up as the loud banging can be heard.
Once I reached the door as I swung it wide, in my shocked expression, I saw you holding my chair about your head as I felt boiled in rage. The itch started to grow fast as I yelled.
“ What the hell are you doing!? ” you immediately dropped the chair as you ran straight first to the open door, I was faster then she was.
I quickly grab her hair as I yank it hard, she's made a yelp like pain as I dragged her to the ground, I look at the door knob being bent in half as I growl at you.
“ you lost your privileges. ” you started to beg for forgiveness and beg him to not harm you.
“ Please, I'm sorry!! I'll be good I-... ” I go to my desk as I pull out a bag of pills, her whining is hurting my head.
“ Shut the hell up, you're getting a harsh punishment for the door. "Your watery eyes blink fast and your lips quiver, I couldn't help finding it so hot just by your expression. 
I dragged you to a different room, one where it has a strong door and soundproof as well so you can scream as loud as you want sweetie.
But I think I like the quiet version better, I lock the door as you scratch at my wrist hard drawing out a bit of blood.
I head to the dresser and open it. It has a few items for couples even since I first saw you. I had to get toys and cute girly lingerie. It was a good thing I checked your size otherwise it wouldn't fit on your cute body.
I grab the handcuffs that have pink fluff as I begin to cuff you as you're crying softly and hear a soft “ sorry. “ Sorry, don't fix the door.
I focus your mouth open as I open the bag to give you your pill.. special pills for my y/n.
“ what the fuck is that!?! ” you whine and squirm as I try to shove the pills deep in your throat.
I focus you to gag on my fingers as I watch your eyes blink fast.
“ It'll help you feel good sweetheart. ” I smirk wide.
“ It's called sex pills. ” I watch and wait for the pills to kick in, it takes a few minutes but god do they last long.
She's starting to scream at me.” PLEASE! NO, I DON'T WANT THIS!!! YOU'RE FUCKING CRAZY. ” I put my fingers back in your mouth as you gag loudly.
“ much better… mhmm I'll teach you a lesson, pet. ” I lean in to lick your ear.
“ one where you'll never forget. I'll train you for days until. "Your eyes clouded with lust as you bite your lips hard, seeing your thighs being squeezed is such a huge turn on.
“ you're broken pet~ ” I throw you on the bed as you whine from the sudden movements.
I smirk at you sadistically as I begin to take my clothes off slowly in a teasing way. I pause to get your used panties that I keep in my pocket.
I stare at you as I begin to walk away to sit down on a chair nearby. I'm in my boxers as I begin to stroke my cover cock as I watch your body language. I hold the dirty panties to my face as I inhale deeply letting out a lewd groan, I watch you from the bed.
Your confused mind wasn't looking at me but your body tells a different story, you're hungry for it and hurt expression that I didn't pounce on you so fast and quick… No, the game has just begun.
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r0semaryt3a · 4 months
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Domestic Facade
Chrollo x (f) OC
A/N: so I started this as a little break from revision and to mess around with writing tropes I hate, but now I’m really into the idea and need feedback on the initial extract. I was going to post this directly onto Ao3 but want to increase my changes of writing more by having a few characters under my belt.
NOT PARTICULARLY PROOF READ
Feeback would be appreciated <3
CW: non applicable
Word count: 1,193
- Content bellow read on -
The early hours of morning began to arrive, sun trickling through open windows, seemingly drawn by the sizzling of eggs. Days like this were nice. Curtains drifting slowly in the breeze, everything at peace. The thought of work -as pleasant as she found it- not weighing heavy on Nirami’s back.
One of her few days off.
Nirami stood beside her kitchen counter, watching as steam billowed from her soon to be breakfast. She loved cooking. Always had, it was so fascinating watching atoms at work.
Sat, ogling, at the way her egg whites puffed up.
The things swayed in her pan with every small movement, don’t play with your food, a familiar voice rang in the back of her head. Her father always did hate this habit of her’s. Counted it a waste of food as stubby legs would dangle idly from her chair, fork prodding at the food she’d left to go cold with a pout. ‘I don’t want it.’ she’d whine, only for a firm voice to barter with her, holding the prospect of desert like a carrot on a stick. Inevitably causing her to cave. At the time, she’d looked at him as if he was the worst person in the world. However, now, standing in a kitchen of her own, she began to appreciate that he placated to her antics.
Slumping the eggs onto a plate, Nirami moved to check on her hashbrowns (an equally as interesting phenomenon to watch as her eggs.), she’d have to pay him a visit, get something to replace the flowers she’d given last time. He always liked Chrysanthemums, it wouldn’t hurt to pick some next time she went out.
A single churn of her salt shaker signaled the dinner bell; she sat down to eat. Tearing her food apart with an almost abnormally meticulous care.
Through her chewing, Nirami turned her attention to the flurry of plants climbing up her walls. A colleague had once suggested the idea of a simple houseplant, to keep her occupied during her parents' passing, a few years ago. A part of her had scoffed at the idea. And now here she was, all sorts of flora scattered around her apartment.
Nirami wouldn’t particularly say it had elevated her grief, but it was certainly a pleasant development. A particularly burnt piece of potato cut through her idle thoughts, maybe she should’ve focused a little more on ensuring her food was edible…The food itself was nice, it always was, for all her slip ups Nirami was a good cook. Eggs oozed; she eagerly wiped up their contents and around fifteen minutes passed before she’d finished. Raising to put her plates in for the wash. A sigh left Nirami as she went about her daily drivel, it was always like this, just as she liked it. The routine had brought solace in times of distress and kept her grounded for her line of work. Never changing, forever trudging along.
Life was simple like this.
Life was good like this.
Life was–
–buzz
The light of her phone flooded the room, its artificial hue reminded her of work. Placing her plate back into soapy water, her eyes scanned the screen’s surface. Unfortunately for her, it had already faded. Forcing Nirami to dry her hands and wander to the side, picking up her mobile, a smile split through her lips. Perhaps changes in her routine were good every once in a while, he was proof of that. Chrollo.
The two had met at her place of work, he’d been dressed to the nines. At the time, she’d taken his attire and assumed he was there to grieve a loved one, offering her condolences. Once he’d revealed he was simply there for an appointment, she’d found herself stumbling over her words. He was kind and quite the charmer, winning her over with ease (and a little coffee).
Since then the two had grown quite close, Chrollo had slotted himself neatly into Nirami’s schedule. Quite the feat indeed. He wasn't around much anymore, had to head back off to work, he’d told her. And so, anytime his name popped up on her phone, it filled her with nothing but euphoria.
The text was simple enough, morning love, yet she still found it hard to respond.
He always did have that effect on her.
Chrollo was far more composed than Nirami. Every word he ever said was picked with poise. She settled for an equally simple response (one most would’ve considered second nature.) morning. The words ‘delivered’ looked back up at her. No doubt he’d take a while to respond, he usually did…
With a sigh, Nirami set back off to do: something. A pleasant hum leaving her as she did. Her apartment was fairly small yet held a large range of activities. She settled for reading.
Plucking one of the many books from its neat place upon her shelf, she didn't particularly know what it was she’d picked. Nor did she care. Everybook in that apartment had been picked apart more times than she could count. Most of them were gifts. Small reminders of Chrollo’s many stays. He’d often send them over, classics and historical pieces, far beyond the ages. A few of them had been in languages Nirami had never even heard of, forcing her hand in learning all sorts of new tongues.
She’d taken to her sofa, swinging her legs onto its surface and brushing her fingers against the pages. Turning to the cover she was finally met by its title: Wuthering Heights. She was familiar with this one, had been when Chrollo had bought her this particular copy. The conversation of that ordeal lay sweet on her tongue.
“Ah, this one’s a particular favorite of mine.” A chuckle rang out as fingers grasped a hard worn cover, moving with almost criminal precision. Finally holding it in view Nirami’s eyes were alight with curiosity before her eyes met the title. “Fitting, a man of nuance, attracted to the definition of it.” A slight look of surprise overtook Chrollo’s features, the act so minute Nirami missed it by a mile. “You’ve read it?” The question wasn’t raised in a way of shock, more admiration, “mhm, a few times over actually. My father used to give me all his mother’s old books.” The conversation spanned for what felt like hours, every answer Nirami gave seemed to give way only for another question. All perfectly eloquent and all perfectly crafted to garner the exact responses he seemed to crave.
It had been like watching a thief at work, the thought was almost enough to elicit a small laugh from Nirami. Her Chrollo, a man who’d shown her nothing but compassion, a thief? Such juxtaposition was a thing of Shakespeare. The idea in itself seemed laughable…With all the ruckus in her life, Chrollo had come as a pleasant break, thoughts of him often flooded her head nowadays. Though she tried her best to filter them at work, he always loomed in some deep recess of her mind. In a way, Nirami guessed he was a thief: he’d stolen her attention in such little time.
Bzz.
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lady-severus-snape · 3 months
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Headcanon #21
Severus gets jinxed by a spell gone wrong. He is now a black cat who ends up with one of Dumbledore's grandkids.
🌠 Damn kids. He kept telling Albus to switch slytherin out with ravenclaw. Now he's atuck as a cat. It was only TUESDAY!!!
🌠Dumbledore lips twitching and his eyes twinkling as he thought of a solution. Severus was to stay with his grandchild y/n. They were in town from the States to visit him as a sabbatical for an injury sustained on the job.
🌠Severus being a scraggly emaciated little thing hissing and batting at everyone who tried to come near him. Y/n wasn't deterred and would entice him with quick ear rubs, homemade treats, cat nip, a toy, etc.
🌠y/n was told by grandpappy albus if they could watch a rescued cat. When you seen the little thing. You almost went off on them from the condition of the animal.
🌠you named him Cosmos after catching sight of a little white spot in the middle of his chest. And soon the two of you were inseparable.
🌠Severus tried to keep his distance from you, but somehow y/n wormed their way under his skin- erm fur and ended up I'm his heart. No matter how grouchy he was. How hard he bite or scratched, y/n always gave him a pet or two.
🌠y/n found out his likes and dislikes. He absolutely hated cat food and refused to eat on the floor. So for breakfast lunch and dinner Comos sat in a chair with his little fish shaped bowl and ate. He liked tuna.
🌠Soon Severus(Cosmos) started to recover. His coat became shinier, healthier. He packed on pounds. The first time y/n called him chonky monkey he was mortified. He bit them and hid to sulk and soothe his ego.
🌠By the end of y/n sabbatical, Severus was unrecognizable as a cat. He always cuddled with you and purred when you returned home from therapy. One day your pain was so intense that it caused him to be distressed enough. His transformation reversed and instead of cat sitting on your bed was Severus.
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lokisprettygirl · 2 years
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The Night Screams at The Slumber Island (Loki x Female Reader) (Horror Romance) (Dark) (Au) (18+)
Read Chapter 10 here //Series Masterlist
Chapter 11
Summary : Your relationship with Loki grows
Warning: Steamy stuff, discussion of rape, sexual abuse, gaslighting, cheating, mention of Suicide, discussion of mental illness, therapy please read carefully. If something triggers you please don’t read it.
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After that day your relationship with Loki changed, there was a lot more touching but it wasn't the kind of touch that made your insides shrivel up, it was the kind that brought you comfort. Everytime you felt scared or distressed He would cup your cheeks and kiss your forehead to calm you down, he would hold your hand as you two sat on his porch for the evening tea time, he'd read to you and you felt comfortable enough to place your head down on his shoulder. 
You thought about that moment on the rocking chair that you two shared, it was sexual in nature but you didn't feel intimidated or scared by it, maybe it was because he allowed you to be above him and do it how you wanted it done, he had your consent, he made you confess what you wanted to do to him and what you needed him to do to you and it was liberating because you had control even though he was still the one in-charge of the situation.
Being around him felt like you were cocooned by a safe sheath where nothing could harm you but it wasn't possible to stay around him all the time. You still didn't understand the nature of your relationship with him, if he was a god, if he was here for you? What does that make you? Would he be gone once you don't need him anymore? Was he really a god or you were indeed losing the last bit of your sanity?
The questions kept you up at night, you had started to get used to the screaming but it still scared you, the screaming felt like it was inching closer to your house every day so whenever you felt scared you'd come to the window and you'd see him, he often smiled or he'd play his guitar for you to calm you down. 
The people of the town still maintained their distance from you even though you had tried to talk to them, especially the blonde woman you kept seeing in the market and there was this one instance where she seemed as if she wanted to say something but Clint came to her and took her away, that's when you found out that he was her husband. Her name was Natasha and she always seemed scared, she also seemed different from the rest of them.  She seemed Normal.
As you returned to your house you saw Loki on your porch so you smiled. He took the bags away from your hand and you opened the door, everytime you got back from the market he was there to take the bags away from you, was he just being chivalrous or there was something more to it? You didn't really understand.
He took out the contents of the bag and you saw him running his hands through everything before he stocked up your fridge,
"You want breakfast?" You asked him so he nodded, you noticed the white shirt he had on, it made him look angelic, his hair was curly and damped and he smelled divine. He leaned back against the counter as he watched you cook, his eyes stayed on your form, you didn't have to go to school today so that meant he didn't have to worry about you running into those awful people out there who wanted to hurt you. Mother has been trying to get in touch with him for a while now and he knew he won't be able to ignore her for long. 
"Are you okay?" You asked him and he snapped out of the thoughts,
"Yess darling I'm absolutely delighted that you're treating me to a meal" you couldn't help but smile, you also prepared tea for him since you knew he enjoyed that. 
You called Stephen once he left and he asked you if you were taking your medicines on time. He also asked you in his subtle therapist manner if you were still hallucinating so you lied to him and said no because you had no idea if you were hallucinating or not. 
That night you showered and shaved, after a long time you actually cared to do that, there's no way you would let him anywhere near your intimate areas but you immediately felt good about yourself. You put on a night gown and stepped out, it was too cold but you didn't want to go back and put a sweater on, his house was all lit up like always so you knocked on his door.
He grabbed your hand and pulled you in, all of a sudden there was a green shawl in his hands and he wrapped it around you before closing the door.
"You're shivering love" he mumbled as he backed you against the door and his frame, his fingers playing with your hair as he kissed your cheeks one by one. He was trying to maintain the distance but it was getting harder for him every moment. In every way.
"It's cold out there" you mumbled meekly and a dainty gasp left your mouth as he placed his finger on your chin to make you look up at him.
"Are you feeling okay? Is something bothering you?" He asked you but instead of answering him you got on your tiptoes and kissed him instead, your hands wrapped around his neck and the sound of his moan melted into your ears. Not being able to kiss him was what's bothering you it seemed.
"Where do you want us to sit? The couch? The chair or the bed?" 
"Not the bed please" your eyes teared up as the memories flashed so he kissed your forehead and walked you towards the couch, then he sat down. Your fingers curled around his neck and he shivered as he felt you caressing his skin. He needed this too, the physical touch from another being, he has been a lonely god for a long time now.
You sat down on his lap with your legs on either side of his thighs and he leaned backwards, your lips crashed together as you kissed him again and you didn't pull away this time until you absolutely had to, your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt and then you took them off, you were met with the sight of his wife beater.
"You're so handsome Lokii, I'm sure you are used to that by now but I just needed you to know" and you weren't lying to him, he was blessed in every way you could tell. That was one of the reasons you felt wary of him in the beginning because a man who looks like that can't be just nice to you for no reason. 
"I'm definitely not used to it darling" he chuckled but deep down he felt those meager little butterflies dancing around.
"I don't believe you" you chuckled and he smiled
"Please do, in my realm I am what your people deem average on earth. Gods and goddesses all around blessed with immense beauty one could not even fathom. I'm just a speck of dust there" 
You kissed him again as he finished talking, you hated the thought of him feeling lesser than anyone. He was beautiful, he was the most beautiful being you have come to know of.
"You're the prettiest thing I have ever known loki..and you have a beautiful heart, no wonder my mother worshiped you..she knew the truth" his eyes teared up as you said that and he controlled the urge to flip you under him and take you right now. The urge was strong but he can't just do that to you, he had to be careful and he had to be gentle with you, you had just started to trust him.
You dropped the shawl down from your back and scooted even closer to him somehow, he moaned as he felt the warmth of your body so close to him. 
"Your mother fancied me y/n. It wasn't just a godly sort of worship" you got off his lap as soon as you heard that
"Wait Whattttt?" You chuckled as you thought about that.
"She fancied me, as in she had lustful feelings for me" 
"Nooo she did not" 
You defended her immediately and then you thought about it, she wasn't the most present mother but you knew she loved you. However she indeed was deeply engrossed in him all the time, she even had an image of him in her head, she even addressed herself as a godspouse on a number of occasions. 
"How do you know that?" You asked him and he tilted his head.
"I looked into her past when she died" 
He raised his hand forward so you placed yours on his and he made you sit down on his lap again.
"That's weird now ..I feel awful kissing the god she thought was her god husband" he couldn't help but smile because your words amused him even though you were being serious he could tell. 
"It doesn't have to be, mortals tend to sexualize everything, gods aren't spared from their desires either, it's in their nature, their primitive animalistic need to satisfy carnal cravings does not hold any limits" he mumbled softly as he caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers.
"How does it feel knowing you're being objectified like that?" 
"It does not matter to me as it's not my concern. They don't know me or who I actually am. Most of them are delusional, this universe is so vast and there are living beings scattered everywhere, some more powerful than others, mortals are the least powerful of them all" 
 "Geeee thanks" you chuckled and he smiled again but it made you think about a few things "So there was a possibility we never would have met if it wasn't for my mother's genuine prayer?" 
"That's true" 
"Ohhh" your mouth opened in realization and the thought scared you, you couldn't even imagine living here all alone anymore. The island scared you, its people terrified you, the screams bothered you and you didn't think you could have survived it all without him. 
"For all it is worth I'm overjoyed to be here with you darling" his thumb brushed over your lips and you moaned in response.
"Really?" You asked him because you didn't believe him that he actually wanted to be there with you. You always figured that he had to be there with you.
"Mmmhmm and you look adorable on top of me" your cheeks flushed even more at his words, you did enjoy being on top of him. 
You were getting used to the intimacy again, touching him, kissing him didn't make you feel repulsed because you knew he didn't treat you like an object, he cared about your consent and he allowed you to take control, to take this at your own pace.
You didn't get back home that night, you fell asleep on top of him while he read to you because after a point of time you didn't know what to do with him, you didn't want to bother him with all the kissing, unknown to you that he was more than overjoyed with all the touching, and you didn't want to take it any further either for now so he conjured your favorite book in his hands and read to you. 
As you fell asleep he wrapped the shawl around you, converted the couch into a bed and laid you down then he tucked you under a blanket so you won't feel cold at night. The night darkened and he heard your screams but it didn't wake you up. You slept peacefully and for once he could sleep too knowing that you were safe there in his house, nothing would harm you in his abode.
In the middle of the night he heard a noise outside so he walked towards the window and he saw a woman placing something in front of your door. She looked around and ran away before she would get caught by anyone, he found her frantic as she looked around. Another trapped innocent victim of the island, he recognised her as he has seen her around the island, she had tried to talk to you, to tell you the truth but she was helpless at times. 
She didn't have anyone protecting her. 
When she left he picked the envelope up she had left on your door, it only said a few words--
"Don't try to run, give in. Make Steve fall for you, he'd save your life if you're good to him or they'll give you to her. 
N" 
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march-harrigan · 2 years
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May I inquire an x reader for Akrhamverse! Jervis, with an s/o who fits the character of the white rabbit? 🧐🎩 lol but please and thank you, and have a good day
Oh, EXCELLENT prompt, Anon!
Here's your arkham!Jervis with a white rabbit!Reader! Hope you enjoy reading the fluff as much as I enjoyed writing it!
His little White Rabbit. Jervis just couldn't help calling them that. After all, everything about his love was reminiscent of Lewis Carroll's chronically late lagomorph. From their nervous demeanor to their excessive need to have everything just so. Right down to the way they always seemed to be hurrying and scurrying about. Like they were right now.
Jervis watched with what could only be described as amusement as his dearest bunny scrambled about. But then could he be blamed? They were so cute, the way the hastily prepared breakfast bagel hung from their mouth. The way they scrambled to gather up their laptop, some papers, and any other items they might need for the day. The way they pulled up their loose sock as they desperately searched for the missing shoe to match the one they were wearing. Only to stop in front of the mirror and fix their hair as best they could with so little time and only one free hand. Why, it was enough to make the Hatter giggle at their antics.
A giggle that seemed to get their attention, at least. They froze in their tracks, half-eaten bagel dropping from their mouth as they turned toward the old arm chair where Jervis was sitting. A personal item he'd brought when he moved in with them. He hopped up and out of the worn seat and approached. A skip in his step and then he stopped, just inches away from them.
"My oh my, you look quite flushed! Now tell me dearest… Why the rush?"
Amusement at their behavior aside, Jervis' tone was also laced with a genuine concern. Of course it would be. They were his White Rabbit, after all. Whatever brought them such distress, it was his concern as well. His duty as their dearest Hatter to fix and mend, or at least ease their burden. Yet even with his willingness to help on full display, they only seemed to tense up more and more with each passing moment. Didn't he understand? They were already so very late "Won't you stop and have some tea before you take off?" he offered when they didn't respond right away.
And finally, they shook their head. "I… I can't, Jervis. I'm so sorry, I just. My alarm didn't go off this morning, I can't find my shoe... I'll be late to the office if I don't leave in the next five minutes.""
"…Oh, SILLY!" He just couldn't hold back another eruption of giggles. So that's what this had been about. It would certainly explain why they'd grabbed their laptop in all of the chaos. "It's a work holiday, remember? I cancelled your alarm so you could sleep in!"
There was a rush of silence. Not to mention relief. As they stared vacantly at Jervis, their body slackened, dropping all of the items they'd been in such a hurry to gather. They'd gotten so worked up, only to realize that he was right. How had they managed to forget? With an exhausted yet alleviated sigh, they put their arms around the Hatter and pulled him into a hug. It wouldn't be long before they were desperately working to clean up the mess. But for now, they could just relax.
"Oh, my sweet, silly, little White Rabbit," Jervis sighed contentedly, pulling them in closer. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," they chuckled. Finally at ease. "I don't know what I'd do without you Jervis."
"…Now about that tea."
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emotionalcadaver · 1 year
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Part 3: A Remedy for Sorrow
Fandom: Dunkirk
Pairing: Shivering Soldier x OC
Summary: Guilt and trauma are not things that are so easily left behind, and a sudden event triggers Henry to fall into a tailspin.
Word Count: 5,921
Notes: Warnings for depictions of PTSD, self hatred, guilt, nightmares, angst, and references to suicide. Henry Wilson is the name for the Shivering Soldier created by the lovely people over @henry-wilson. 
Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter
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Chapter 4: Broken
He woke up with a strangled scream still emitting from his throat, hands clapping over his mouth even though it already was too late to try to contain the sound. In his thrashing, the blankets had been kicked down to tangle around his legs, and despite the chill in the room, he was drenched with sweat. Chest heaving, he glanced around the room almost wildly, attempting to take into account all the little details of the space to help ground him. The blue shade of the walls, the detailing on the antique chair, the chipped white paint on the window sill.
He just about jumped out of his skin at a sudden, firm knocking on the door. “Mr. Wilson?” the old woman who ran the inn, Darlene, called from the other side. Trying desperately to wipe at his sweaty brow with the sheets, he fumbled around in the dark for his boxer shorts, pulling them on before staggering to the door and pulling it open. She blinked at him from behind her spectacles, arms crossed over her chest, and her lips pressed into a firm line. “Are you alright?”
“Y-yes,” he croaked out. “Sorry.”
Her frown only deepened. “You’re disturbing the other patrons.”
His shoulders curved in, head hanging in shame. “I’m sorry.”
The apology was met with a scowl. “Just try to get yourself under control, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am, I will. I’m sorry.”
She just turned to hobble down the hallway and back to her room. Closing the door, his back pressed right up against it, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold hardwood floor, knees pulled up to his chest as he started to sniffle. It was still dark outside, but there was no way that he was going to be able to get back to sleep like this. Running a hand through his hair, he wiped in vain at his eyes, trying to staunch the flow of tears. A combination of shame, embarrassment, and distress rolling down his cheeks. His muscles began to tense and shake, teeth chattering in his skull as he was wracked with uncontrollable shivers.
It was not until the sun had come up that he was able to pick himself up off of the floor, muscles aching at the position he’d folded himself into for hours. Pulling his clothes on in a daze, he splashed some cold water onto his face, slicking his wetted hands through his hair. Inside his chest, his heart ached.
Taking a deep breath, his trembling fingers hovered over the door handle. With any luck, most of the other people staying at the inn wouldn’t be awake yet, and he could slip out without anyone noticing. Hopefully.
Pushing the door open, he kept his shoulders drawn in, head down with his hands stuffed into his pockets, while he walked down the hallway, the stairs creaking in complaint as he stepped down them. Darlene had already laid out some breakfast for the early risers, and a couple of men were standing at the table, chatting over their morning coffee and eggs. 
He tried to ignore how they all went quiet as he stepped into the room, or their stares as he moved around the table piled high with breakfast food to the door. Their gazes burned into his back the entire time, until the front door swung shut behind him and he was out in the open air.
It was still likely too early for Daisy to be awake yet, so instead he just wandered, swinging by a little café for breakfast and then just walking around aimlessly, watching the sun climb higher and higher into the sky.
Wondering what kind of things they were saying about him, back at the inn.
∗ ∗ ∗ 
Yellow watering can in hand, he bent to examine the leaves on the flowers he and Daisy had planted in her pots, smiling in spite of himself at the healthy green color.
“How are they all looking?” Daisy asked, giving Ghost a pat on the head after she set down the tray of tea she’d brought outside with her. The dog flopped down happily onto his belly on the porch, tongue lolling from his mouth.
“Good,” setting the watering can down, he pulled out one of the chairs, carefully cradling the teacup she handed him. It was made of delicate white China, with little flowers painted on the sides.
“Sugar?”
“Yeah,” he gave the tea a little stir after she dropped the sugar cubes into it to help encourage them to dissolve.
“Are you alright?” she asked, sitting down and taking a sip from her tea.
“Mhm,” he hummed, absentmindedly. He’d been playing with an idea all day. Ever since he’d left the inn that morning.
But he didn’t want to burden her. Not when she’d already done so much for him. And yet he wasn’t sure if he could take much more of the judgmental stares from the people at the inn. And he certainly wasn’t going to be able to sleep there; not with the anxiousness of waking up screaming and disturbing everyone was like a twisting blade inside his chest.
“I was wondering…” he started to speak without really realizing it. Daisy raised a curious eyebrow.   
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Is that invitation to your spare room still being offered?” the sentence came out fast, practically strung together into one single word. But Daisy still heard him, perking up and setting her teacup down.
“Of course!”
“I don’t want to be a nuisance–”
“Nonsense,” she waved away his concerns. “Honestly, I have more room than I know what to do with here.”
“Daisy–” he attempted again to try to convey to her his seriousness. “I don’t–it’s not–” he huffed in frustration at his inability to find the correct words. “I wake up screaming. Almost every night. I don’t want to disturb you and Ghost.” 
“Oh, no, love, you won’t. I promise,” she reached across the table to brush her fingertips along the back of his hand, smile soft. He nodded shakily.
“Thank you.”
“Of course,” leaning back, she took another sip from her tea. “If you don’t mind me asking; what made you change your mind?” her head tilted curiously. Henry sighed. He supposed that she did have a right to know.
“Honestly I think that Darlene over at the inn is about ready to throw me out,��� he rubbed at his neck self consciously. “I keep disturbing the other patrons.”
“Darlene’s an old snob,” Daisy grumbled into her teacup. “Every time she comes into the library it’s to complain that certain books we offer are indecent,” she scowled. “And then she scolds me for not coming to church. Don’t listen to a thing she says.”
“Last week she threw out a couple after she found out that they weren’t married,” he said.
“That sounds like something she would do.”
Henry suddenly cringed, eyes flying wide at another realization. “I don’t want anyone to start to think that…” he trailed off, blushing furiously. The last thing that he wanted to do was blemish Daisy’s reputation when it inevitably got out that she was allowing a man to stay under her roof when they were both unmarried.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Daisy waved a hand away with ease. “Most of the town probably already thinks that we’re sleeping together anyway,” she didn’t say it unkindly, or lewdly. Just matter-of-factly. He felt his blush deepen at her words.
“I don’t want to cause any problems for you.”
“You won’t, love. I’m happy to have you here,” setting down her teacup, her face suddenly lit up with unencumbered excitement. “Come on, let me show you your room,” she jumped to her feet, already rushing towards the back door, leaving him to scramble to set his teacup down, following her into the cottage.  
∗ ∗ ∗ 
He moved into his room in Daisy’s cottage within the day, gathering his things from the inn and getting himself set up in her spare room. It was considerably cozier than his room at the inn had been, not to mention the comfort that having Daisy closer brought.
Still, he laid awake for a long time that night, fighting to keep his eyes open despite his exhaustion. There was still a part of him convinced that when he inevitably woke up screaming so loud she could hear him in her own room, she would be at best disconcerted, at worst annoyed and regretting her decision to let him stay with her. 
And yet, his eyes did inevitably slide closed, and he was seized by visions of seawater closing in over his head. Of being sucked downwards through the hole punctured in the side of the ship, the boom so loud it felt that it shattered his eardrums.
Waking up with a choking yell, he scrambled at the blankets draped over his chest. For a moment, he thought that he might be sick from fear, laying on his back, arm thrown up to press against his brow until the nausea finally abated. Sitting up shakily, he swung his legs off the bed, rubbing a hand down his face before straightening. He staggered to the window, pulling the curtains aside to peek out at the quiet backyard, the sun beginning to rise. According to the clock on the wall, he’d only slept for a little over an hour.
Going to the closet, he pulled out a thin shirt, tugging it on. Normally he preferred to sleep naked, but he’d worn his boxer shorts to bed, just in case Daisy came in for whatever reason. Opening the door slowly to make sure that it didn’t creak, he shuffled past the bathroom and into the kitchen.
The light was already on.
“Hullo.”
He blinked at Daisy in silent shock. She was leaning against the counter with a teacup cradled in her palms. Ghost was pressed up against her legs, and she was wearing matching green shorts and a tank top, both embroidered with little floral flowers, her hair mussed, like she’d just gotten out of bed herself.
“Tea?” she asked, nodding to the kettle.
“Um, sure,” his voice cracked.
“Help yourself,” she took a sip, watching him shrewdly as he poured some for himself.
“I’m sorry if I woke you–”
“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t,” she said, looking down at her tea.
“I didn’t?”
She shook her head. “Nightmare, I’m assuming?”
“Yeah.”
“Mm,” she glanced out the window, gaze faraway. “I get them too, sometimes.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” she indicated with a small tilt of her head for him to follow her from the kitchen into the living room. Sitting down on the couch, her legs curled up underneath her, she patted the space next to her welcomingly. Sinking in beside her, Henry eyed her curiously, while Ghost curled up in the space on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.
“Are you…okay?” he asked, unsure of what to do. Daisy swirled her tea thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I am. You?”
“I’m…” alright didn’t seem like the right word to use. Nor did okay. Because really, he was neither. Even after all this time, there were moments where his head felt like such a jumbled mess of panic and trauma and guilt. He wasn’t sure what more he could do to make it better; aside from just giving it time. “I’m coping, I suppose.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“Not right now,” he coughed, bringing his teacup to his lips. 
“Okay,” shifting in her position on the couch, she set her teacup and saucer down on the coffee table, curling in more comfortably against the pillows. They were both silent for a moment, as they each considered themselves and the memories of terror and pain still swirling in their minds. “The sunrise is nice,” she commented finally. At some point, her head had fallen to rest in the spot where his chest and his shoulder met, curled warmly into his side.
“Yeah, it is,” he took a final sip of tea, watching through her window as the sun rose steadily higher and higher. Daisy pressed in closer to him, and when he moved to set his teacup down on the table next to her, a sneaking glance in her direction revealed that her eyes had slipped closed.
Going stiff, unsure of what to do, he settled his arm tenderly around her, shifting them both so he was reclined a bit more comfortably on the couch, but wasn’t moving her too much that it would disturb her. Daisy made a contented sound and stirred closer. Henry’s own eyes were growing heavy, the warmth from Daisy’s body and the comfortable cushions of the couch beneath him making him sleepy.
Before he knew it, his eyes were closed, and he was out like a light, comfortable and warm and unworried. 
∗ ∗ ∗ 
He woke with a jerk and a yelp, blinking, disoriented, as he looked around, mind beginning to catch up with the rest of him.
He was still on the couch, with Daisy curled up against him. His movements had roused her, apparently, as she made a small sound, stirring against his chest and squinting up at him.
“Are you okay?”
Swallowing hard, he removed his arm from where it was still curled around her, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”
The sun had come up, the bright light shining blindingly through the window. Daisy’s hand rested lightly between his shoulder blades, thumb rubbing back and forth. The touch was nice, her hand warm. Noticing that they had risen, Ghost stood up, stretching with a groan and whining at Daisy.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Come on, boy,” she stood with a huff, stretching out her arms. Henry swallowed hard, trying not to stare at the bare skin of her strong legs. “Be right back,” she said to him with a small smile, her cheeks dusted a light pink. Nodding silently, he watched her walk away towards the back door to let the dog outside.
∗ ∗ ∗ 
He was standing in front of the stall at the market, eyeing the fresh fruit set out in little baskets. He could smell the sweetness wafting from the flower stall next door, bright bouquets set out for people to take their choosing.
A sniffle to his left caught his attention. Glancing over, Henry frowned at the sight of a woman standing in front of the flower stand, a handkerchief clutched to her face, trying in vain to hide red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks. She looked over the flowers sorrowfully, more like she was picking out a coffin than a bouquet. Finally, she plucked from the stand a grouping of yellow, purple, pink, and orange tulips, handing them to the clerk to be bundled up. Henry was about to go over to her, to ask her if she was alright, when he heard the clerk speak.
“These for the grave?”
“Y-yeah,” the woman mumbled, handing the clerk the money and taking the flowers.
“Have a good day, Mrs. Mills.”
Henry froze, entire body going stiff, eyes bulging wide as the woman pushed past him, still crying quietly, not even looking at him.
Mills.
He staggered back a few steps, shoulders curling in, hands beginning to tremble. He barely made it out of the market before he leaned over the edge of the curb and vomited violently, coughing and sobbing. His heart had begun to palpitate so powerfully he thought for a moment that he might have a heart attack. Staggering back to the cottage, probably looking half drunk or out of his mind, he stumbled into his room, slamming the door shut and collapsing onto the floor.
And then he buried his head in his hands and started to weep.
∗ ∗ ∗ 
“Good morning.”
Her brows rose when Henry just made a small sound of acknowledgement, immediately moving to fill a mug with coffee. He had been quiet last night too. Almost despondent. She’d thought that maybe he was just having a bad day; that it would pass over.
It didn’t seem like it.
“Would you like some eggs?” she asked tentatively, still remaining at her spot by the stove. 
“Sure.”
She nodded in silent acknowledgement, pulling a second plate close while he went outside to check on the garden. Watching his back, she felt her brows furrow at the clear tension in his muscles, the way that his shoulders were again hunching in on themselves almost timidly.
They ate in relative silence. Henry wouldn’t meet her eyes, instead keeping his gaze focused down on his plate. It took a great deal of self control not to ask him what was wrong; but she had promised herself that she would be patient. That she wouldn’t pry. Surely he would tell her whatever it was that was on his mind once he was ready.
“Right, well, I’ve got to get to work,” she said carefully, cleaning off her plate and setting it to dry.
“Alright.”
She wanted to ask him if he would like to meet up for lunch or something, but thought better of it. He really seemed to just want to be left alone.
“Okay, I’ll see you this evening, then,” she gave Ghost a quick pet on the head. “Be a good boy,” his tail wagged at her words, and then she was tugging on her jacket and slinging the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder, stepping out the door.
All during the walk to the library, she fretted in her mind, trying to determine if there were any clues as to what had triggered Henry’s sudden foul mood. Try as she did to tell herself that it was likely just a nonsensical mood swing that didn’t mean all that much, she couldn’t quite stop thinking about it.
“I heard that Mr. Wilson, who was staying over at my inn, has started boarding with you at your cottage, Daisy.”
She had to bite back her groan, turning in her chair with a fake smile plastered on her lips as she faced Darlene.
“Yes, that’s right, ma’am.”
The woman looked down her pointed nose at her, mouth twisting with disapproval. “Quite a thing it is, for an unmarried woman to have a man staying in her house. Alone.”
“Well, perhaps that wouldn’t have been necessary if you hadn’t made him feel so unwelcome,” Daisy said simply.
“Your reputation in this town was already on thin ice, Ms. Preston, but this–”
“What goes on under my own roof is my business, wouldn’t you agree, ma’am?” she began to thumb through their records. “You have three pounds worth of late fees, by the way,” she added, just because she was feeling petty. Darlene turned red, scowling as she fumbled through her purse. “You can pay them to Cora. I have books that need reshelving,” she stood up before Darlene could say anymore, grabbing a stack of books and taking them back to their proper shelves. By the time she got to the front desk, Darlene was gone.
“What are you pouting about? ”
She glanced over at Cora as she sunk into the chair next to her. “Nothing.”
“You sure?”
Fingers fiddling with a loose strand on the sleeve of her sweater, she huffed. “Henry’s acting funny.”
Cora tilted her head. “Funny how?”
“He’s been quieter than usual and, I dunno, even since yesterday evening he’s just seemed off.”
“Maybe he’s just in a bad mood.”
She felt her shoulders slump. “Maybe.”
“You don’t think so?”
She shrugged. “He moved from the inn to my spare room recently. I’m worried that he regrets it.”
“Why would he regret it? Your house is much nicer than Darlene’s dingy inn.”
Daisy shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Cora leaned forward, head pillowing on her fist. “It probably has nothing to do with you. He was a soldier, right? And a shell-shocked one at that. They go up and down. Ruth’s husband has good days and bad days all the time,” she shrugged. “It’ll pass.”
“You really think so?”
“You could always just ask him.”
Her fingers twitched against each other. “I suppose that’s true.”
Cora leaned forward to give her a sympathetic pat on the knee. “Have you met the new girl yet? Ruth’s been training her.”
“Edith? I only met her briefly this morning. How is she?”
Cora shrugged. “She’s alright.”
Another customer came up asking for help finding a book. Heaving herself up and out of her chair, Daisy led the woman through the stacks, fingers skimming along the spines until she found the one the woman was looking for and pulled it free from the shelf, handing it to her and nodding at her thanks.
Wandering through the stacks aimlessly, she tried to remind herself that Cora was probably right. There were dozens upon dozens of things that could be bothering Henry that had next to nothing to do with her. It was probably fine.
Or his mental state could be deteriorating. She had read about the men who came back who put a pistol in their mouth less than a year later to stifle the memories, or those who became so lost in them that they had to be committed to the asylums, locked up in padded cells and strapped in straight jackets to keep them from hurting themselves or others.
The idea chilled her, sending a cracker of alarm through her veins.
But maybe it wasn’t as dire as that, at least not yet. Maybe being in Weymouth was too difficult for him. Too many reminders of the things that had happened. Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before he would be leaving. 
The very idea of it had a lump forming in her throat.
∗ ∗ ∗ 
Wandering around town with Ghost’s leash clutched in his hand, Henry flinched at a clatter from across the street when a waiter dropped a glass. The dog whined, brushing up against his legs in a way that he suspected was supposed to be soothing. Sighing, he guided the dog down the block and around the corner, pausing a moment to let him sniff at a bush before giving him a tug on the leash to get him to continue walking.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw poor Mrs. Mills’ tear stained face, clutching a bouquet of flowers to her chest. Just the thought alone made his stomach roll with guilt and sorrow.
He was being standoffish with Daisy. It wasn’t intentional. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was his subconscious trying to protect her from him. There was no way any of this ended well. He’d hurt her, or disappoint her.
The idea of leaving, of getting on the nearest train and disappearing, had been at the forefront of his mind for the entire day. It certainly would be better for her; if he were gone. Then she could get on with her life, without him there to weigh her down. He would not let her shackle herself to him. Not when she deserved so much better. Someone brave, and heroic. Certainly not a failure of a soldier who pushed a child to his death and couldn’t go one single night without waking up with his throat convulsing with screams. 
But in all honesty, he did not want to leave. It was nice here. Peaceful. For the most part, anyway. And he wanted to have Daisy close. To bask in her warmth and sweetness.
But to do that would be selfish. And he didn’t want to be selfish with her.
Rubbing at his face, trying to calm the storm in his mind, he came to a sudden jerking stop as he and Ghost passed a metal fence. Squinting through the bars, he felt the lump in his throat only grow as he took in the sight of gray and white gravestones lining the green hill that the fence incased.
Near the very top of the hill, facing in the direction of the ocean, he spotted the bouquet of tulips he’d seen Mrs. Mills buy, already a little wilted and withered, leaned up against a clearly fresh white gravestone. It was too far away for him to be able to make out the words engraved on it. Not that he needed to.   
A small, whimpering whine built up in the back of his throat, burning as he battled back the tears pushing behind his eyes. Ghost’s little bumps of his head against Henry’s legs went almost fully unnoticed as he just stared at the grave in silent, miserable agony.
∗ ∗ ∗ 
 Heels clicking against the cobblestones, she began the walk from the library to the docks, sighing at the salty scent of the ocean and the cool breeze in her hair. Her lips pulled upwards as she spotted the Moonstone bobbing at the pier.
“Well, look who’s here,” Mr. Dawson smiled as he spotted Daisy walking down the boardwalk towards the boat. 
“Hey. Is Peter around?”
“No, no, he’s off with some friends. How are you?” he offered her a steadying hand as she stepped aboard the boat.
“I’m alright,” she shrugged.
“I heard that Henry Wilson is in town.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Peter spotted him at the market a few days ago.”
She sat down beside him on the deck. “We’ve been spending some time together.”
“I’m glad. Poor man could probably use some companionship.”
“Yeah,” she rubbed her palms together. “How are you?”
“Alright,” he ran a hand along the rich wood of the boat. “I’m hoping to take the Moonstone out again soon.”
“Missing the open water?”
He cracked a smile. “I suppose.”
“And Peter? How’s he doing?”
“Better, actually. He’s been spending time with his friends. And he’s been talking a lot with Collins.”
“Oh, that’s good. They really hit it off during the evacuation.”
“I suggested that he invite him over for a few days. You’re welcome to come by, if you’d like to say hello.”  
“I will,” she glanced over at the old man, smile still a little wobbly. “Thanks.”
He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Any time. How is Henry, by the way?”
“He’s…” she hesitated, unsure as to how to answer. “He was doing better, I thought.”
“Was?”
“These past few days he’s been a bit off. But before then, he seemed to be okay,” she fidgeted, sighing. “He knows about George.”
Mr. Dawson started. “You told him?”
“No! No, he…saw the body getting taken off the boat after we docked.”
“Oh.”
“He’s really torn up over it,” she ran a hand through her hair. “And I don’t know how to help,” she glanced over at him helplessly. “I see it in his face, you know? I could keep telling him over and over that he shouldn’t blame himself for what happened, until I’m blue in the face, but he won’t believe me.”
Mr. Dawson laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’ve already done so much, Daisy. But this is something that he’s going to have to do on his own.”
“Yeah,” she nodded, scrubbing at her face. “I know. I just hate feeling so helpless and useless.”
“You aren’t being useless. I’m sure that you’ve been a great source of support for him. And you can keep doing that, if you want to. But coming to terms with everything is on Henry, not you,” he gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Give him time. It’ll be alright.”
“You really think so?”
“I was around during the first world war, kiddo. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”
Glancing out at the sea, she nodded, once, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”   
∗ ∗ ∗ 
The next day came, and Henry was still acting strangely. She’d almost asked him about it at dinner the night before, but decided to give him some more time. And he’d seemed more like himself when they went outside to check on the garden and water the flowers.
Returning from where she’d been wandering through the stacks, putting books back and shushing a few rowdy teenagers, she hesitated at the sight of a familiar blonde head of hair belonging to a man leaning against the front counter and talking with Edith, who was looking up at him with wide, spellbound eyes, giggling and blushing before rushing away with a pile of books clutched to her chest. 
“Collins?”
The pilot turned to look at her, then grinned.
“Daisy, hi!” he pulled her into a comradery hug, smile stretched wide across his lips. “How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been good,” she pulled back to look at him. Collins leaned against the front desk with a smile. “What about you?”
“Oh, fine, fine,” he said.
“You're in town visiting the Dawsons, right?” she smiled again. “They treating you alright?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re great. Peter keeps asking me to take him flying.”
“Are you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe,” he shot her a look. “I heard that Wilson was around.”
“Henry?” she looked down, feeling her cheeks heat. “Yeah, he’s been visiting.”
Collins smirked at her. “Glad to hear it.”
Shifting from foot to foot, she glanced down at her hands a little awkwardly. “I read about Farrier in the papers. I’m sorry.”
Collins looked down, jaw twitching. “Yeah. Thanks,” he glanced around at the library, blinking hard until the glassiness in his eyes dissipated. “Sorry. You’re working. We can catch up some other time.”
“I don’t mind the company,” she assured, walking behind the desk to reorganize some papers. “It’s quiet today anyway.”
Collins cocked his head as she pulled up a chair for him to sit. “If you say so.”
∗ ∗ ∗ 
Henry walked with his shoulders slumped in, head bowed and hands shoved deep into his pockets. It felt like the heavy weight in his chest, the one that had somewhat lightened since his arrival in Weymouth, had tripled. The guilt and fear was constantly attempting to clamber up his throat to choke him, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep swallowing it down.
He should have told Daisy about his run in with Mrs. Mills. But he couldn’t. Every time he tried, the guilt clawed at his vocal cords and left him utterly speechless, voice paralyzed.
Besides, it was not up to her to fix him. He wouldn’t put that on her. He had promised that he wouldn’t.
He’d dropped Ghost back at the cottage after their walk, but was too jittery to be able to sit still, instead wandering back outside, his feet carrying him towards the library despite his mind screaming at him not to. Pushing the door open, he froze at the sight that he was greeted with.
Daisy was sitting behind the front desk, sorting books into piles. Seated across from her, with his chin propped up on his fist, was Collins. The pilot that they’d fished out of the water during the evacuation. He said something, and Daisy laughed brightly, cheeks dimpling, and Henry felt like he’d been punched in the chest.
Taking a few steps backwards, he slipped swiftly out the door, before either of them could see him. Walking around the side of the library, he slumped down onto one of the benches lining the path, hand cradling his forehead.
The jealousy that had twisted to life inside of him was nonsensical, not to mention unjustified. They were just talking. That alone didn’t mean anything. And even if it did, she had no obligation to wait around for him to finally cobble the broken pieces of his mind together. He’d told her as much.
And it was beginning to grow more and more obvious that he would never be able to fully pull himself back together into a person who would actually deserve to be with Daisy. He was shattered, pulverized. Broken beyond repair.   
Daisy deserved someone good. And brave. Someone like Collins. Certainly never someone like Henry.
Hands shaking, he forced himself to stand, to drag his feet across the cobblestones back towards the cottage.
He wasn’t going to remain there in Weymouth and continue to screw up her life. She deserved better than that.
She deserved better than him.
∗ ∗ ∗ 
The sun was setting by the time she wrapped up her shift, bidding Collins good-bye and heading home. Unlocking the door, she greeted Ghost with a smile, petting him on the head before hanging up her bag and jacket.
“Where’s Henry, boy?” she asked, letting him out into the backyard. The cottage was uncharacteristically dark, the lights off in the living room and kitchen. Brows creasing, she headed to Henry’s room, where the door was closed halfway, a trickle of light bleeding into the hallway. She knocked softly on the wood before poking her head in, eyes immediately widening, heart falling down into her feet. 
“Henry? What are you doing?”
He looked up from where he was placing a folded shirt into the open suitcase on the bed, swallowing hard. “I, erm, I’m–” he sighed, looking down.
“Are you leaving?” she hated how small her voice sounded when she said it.
“Daisy, listen–”
“Why?”
Henry sighed again, closing the suitcase and zipping it shut. “It’s for the best, Daises. Really.”
For a moment she just stammered, hand bracing against the doorframe to steady herself. “I don’t understand.”
“I shouldn’t have come in the first place,” he rambled. “It wasn’t fair, to come and take over your life like this,” he shook his head.
“Take over–Henry, I want you here. I’m happy you’re here.”
“I can’t stay, Daisy. I’m sorry.”
“But I thought that maybe–” she bit her lip, before the words could come out. Not that it mattered, she could see from the look in his eyes that he knew exactly what she was talking about. He shook his head.
“It never would have worked, Dais.”
“Why not?”
“Daisy, I’m not going to get better. This,” he gestured weakly. “This is the best that I’ll ever be. And I can’t–I won’t be a burden to you.”
“You’d never be a burden, Henry,” she took a step forward, but stopped when he stepped back. “Henry, I care about you. It doesn't bother me that you have nightmares or flashbacks, or, or anything else–”
“But you deserve better than that.”
“Don’t tell me what I do or don’t deserve!” she snapped, and his eyes widened at the sudden rise in her voice. Taking a deep, shaking breath, she forced herself to stay calm. “That’s not up to you.”
His jaw set stubbornly, even his eyes flickered downwards to the floor. His face pinched as if in pain. “I have to go,” he grabbed the suitcase, pulling it off of the bed, pushing past her into the hallway.
“Wait, no, can’t we please just talk about this? Henry?” she scrambled to follow him, blinking hard to try to staunch the tears welling in her eyes. “Henry, stop, stop, stop,” she grabbed onto his bicep, and he turned to face her, eyes so sad it almost sent her careening backwards. “I don’t want to lose you. Please?”
The hand not holding the suitcase reached up to caress her hair tenderly, thumb stroking along her cheek before he laid a brushing kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry,” his lips moved against her skin. “I love you.”
“Henry–!”
He was out the door and gone before she’d even finished calling his name.     
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guideoftime · 2 years
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o9﹕ sender  falls  asleep  leaning  against  receiver .
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@sapientiiae
He was trying to write in the journal he'd made, blue hard leather cover and pages a soft delicate white. Recording the events of history were something the Sheikah had done for generations, and even if the Princess had reset the timeline, he was still determined to record the events of the Hero's journey. The one he was writing was written in Sheikah and when he was done with it he'd transribe it over to Hylian for the Royal Family Records. It ensured, that if Kakariko or the Castle was attacked, there would be another copy of the records.
His family was always careful.
He doesn't know why the Princess had decided to join him. On a normal basis Sheik doesn't sleep, nightmares plaguing his mind keeping him awake at all hours. When he tries to sleep it's uneventual and nearly traumatic. So he doesn't sleep, which means he's often awake for very long hours working away at whatever held his mind at that moment.
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It's definitey late, the oil lamp he lit being the only source of light in the library. The book was several pages in, he's finishing the first part of the journey, and the Princess seems to finally give in to her exhaustion. It's impressive she lasted as long as she did when he knows she's up rather early, around at least seven to attend to her Royal Duties and eat breakfast.
He tenses a bit when he feels her head hit his shoulder and he moves the quill quickly before he can screw up the sentence he's writing. Ripping out pages of books bother him, and it would mean rewritting a lot more than just a single sentence. As he hovers the quill over the ink jar he slides his gaze to the side and looks down over at the Princess.
Breathing softly he watched her chest rise and fall, steady and without any sort of distress. Peaceful slumber was rather easy for her to find then, or at least in this moment it was. He pressed his lips together and wondered if he should wake her. That couldn't be comfortable, he knows he's rather bony, and the chairs of the library aren't exactly the softest in the castle. She was going to get a crick in her neck sleeping like that, and she's still dressed in all that Royal garb. How many layers are there even to her dress?
Fighting with indecision he moves his left hand to reach over and shake her a bit, just wake her up and coax her into bed--and then wraps her arms around his right one and clings.
Even in sleep she has to make things difficult for him.
He holds back a sigh and turns his gaze back away, fidgeting a bit uncomfortably in the chair but not enough to wake her. He places the quill down and settles for knowing he won't get more writing done today. Not with the way she was clinging to his dominate arm. He looks to the book and stares at it tiredly, at his own delicate and neat handwriting. It wasn't nearly as elegant as her's, and he certainly writes better in Sheikah than Hylian, but it was fine. Legible.
He feels his own eyes begin to drop slightly, he's been awake for what was probably nearly two days straight. He knows he's exhausted.
The last thing he intends to do is fall asleep against the Princess in turn, his head falling to the side and resting in top of her own on his shoulder.
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votivecandleholder · 1 year
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Integrating White Dining Tables into Diverse Interiors
New Post has been published on https://dinnertables.net/integrating-white-dining-tables-into-diverse-interiors
Integrating White Dining Tables into Diverse Interiors
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Contents
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2 The Canvas of Neutrality
2.1 White round dining tables
3 Minimalist Modernism
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5 Classic and Traditional Charm
6 Contemporary Fusion
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7 Coastal and Serene Vibes
7.1 Small white dining tables
8 Urban Chic
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9 DIY Dining Room Ideas
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Stardrop Valley
Fandom: Five Nights At Freddy's: Security Breach X Stardew Valley Rating: Mature Tw: 1st person, Lots of dead characters, Child Death, Missing Children, Graphic Violence, Stockholm Syndrome, Alternate Universe, Magic is Real, Monsters are Real, Not Canon Compliant, Different situations mean different behaviours, characters in distress, Kidnapping, Torture, thalassophobia AO3 Link
Chapter Four: Day Three, Spring
While you do wake up warm and comfortable, you can tell instantly that your face is swollen. Your nose and upper lip feel puffy and sore. Your eyes open with difficulty, a pain sparking between your eyebrows. That kid really did a number on you.
You pull back your blanket and sit up, head heavy with fog. Remembering what the last time you woke up was like, you lean out of bed and look for your shoes. Gone. You try to frown and wince. Guess you're not emoting today. Looking the other way you notice that the doors at the top of the stairs are wide open.
How the hell does he do that without waking you?? It would be impressive if it wasn't so terrifying.
You slip out of bed and go to grab your phone from your jacket, anger flaring when you find that missing as well. Well, the jacket is missing, as is your pile of dirty laundry, but your phone is sitting atop your dresser, plugged in and charging. You really can't be angry and it's getting harder and harder to be anxious about this 'Attendant' when all it seems he's doing is attending to you.
You grab your phone and run a hand through your hair. Hold on. Where's your hat?
You groan, but just chalk it up to the Attendant doing whatever he likes and move on. You're not sure if you lost it yesterday or if he took it, but you let it slip to the bottom of the things you need to worry about.
It's just before 8am, a decent chunk of sleep, though you wish you'd been up earlier. You pocket your phone, not bothering to change out of your pajamas with the door wide open, and start slowly up the stairs. You step with care, avoiding any boards that try to creak under your weight, until you reach the top and can look into the living room.
The lights are on, bathing the room in warm light. Among the plants you noticed before, you notice the walls are decorated with several paintings, all of them sun, moon, or star themed. A large woven lavender rug, decorated with white-threaded images of wolves and rabbits chasing stars, stretches the space between tall bookshelves and a cozy-looking blue armchair. Directly across from you is a large fish tank, maybe 100 to 125 gallons, with a dark blue lunar theme. Though from where you stand, the tank appears empty.
You hear a clink of silverware from the kitchen and step forward quickly, peeking from around the corner and past the yellow couch and multitude of plants. The kitchen is empty, but there's a plate, a glass, and a folded note at the place setting once again. Your stomach clenches with hunger as you cautiously approach the table.
Six strips of bacon, two slices of toast with some orange jelly on it, and a well seasoned omelet mixed with diced red pepper, mushrooms, and onions. There's even a glass of what looks like orange juice. You pick up the note, another smiling sun drawn on the front, and flip it open.
'Good morning, Starlight I hope you like eggs and bacon more than pancakes Breakfast is important!'
You…don't really know how to feel. You think maybe you should be afraid, grab your things, and run away as fast as your legs can carry you. You still have a good chunk of money, you could easily start new elsewhere.
But…
This feels kinda nice. Not safe, just nice.
You set down the note and eye the plate. You've had several near death experiences in the last twenty-four hours, what's it to you to risk one more?
With a nervous glance around the area you can see from where you are, you make sure The Attendant isn’t hiding nearby before you plop down into the chair and pull up to eat. The juice stings a cut inside your upper lip you didn't know was there and the crunch of the bacon makes your nose burn with pain. But damn, it's so fucking good. You can feel tears threatening to fall as you chew, your stomach so happy for a good home cooked meal that isn't stale beef ramen with week-old store bought green onions. God how you wish you could smell it.
When your plate is empty and your juice is gone, you pick up your dishes and carry them to place in the sink.
Now. You have a giant creepy monster to find.
You don’t really WANT to find him, but you have questions and he hasn’t tried to kill you yet. Well, not on purpose anyway.
You're sure he's not in the house, but you're not sure if he's going to be all that friendly if you start breaking into other buildings trying to find him. By the front door you find your shoes on the rug and your jacket hung up on a hook, donning both you try the door and find it unlocked. Stepping outside you're greeted with the same beautiful sight as before, the sun barely up over the edge of the forest, casting a warm glow over the farm. You step out onto the porch and sigh, cupping your hands and taking a deep breath. You hesitate.
Do you reeeaaaally want to draw this thing’s attention? It might not actually know you’re awake yet. You might be able to get away and go look for those kids on your own. It’s early morning. Now would be the safest time.
You suck in a deep breath again and shout out over the fields.
"HEY! I KNOW YOU'RE OUT HERE!" You yell. "YOU SAID I WOULD SEE YOU!"
No reply. You feel a twitch of irritation behind your eye and put your hands on your hips.
"IF YOU WON’T COME OUT, I GUESS I'LL JUST GO BACK INTO TOWN-"
"We would really prefer it if you didn't."
You jump and spin around and look up as the creature that grabbed you last night ducks under the doorway and steps outside with you. Even in your shock, you manage to stop and actually look at him. You start at the bottom and go up.
He stands at least eight feet tall, more or less given how he stands with a hunch and slightly bent legs on his tip-toes. His feet are the same split colors as his hands, one pale yellow and the other dark grey. He appears to have cloven hooves in place of toes, the pale one's hooves are an almost golden yellow like the claws on his pale hand, while the others are a striking blue. Around his waist is a bright red sash that matches the red ribbons wrapped around his wrists and ankles. The way the tattered ends dangle almost looks like blood at a glance. He's dressed in a barely off-white pair of matching shirt and pants that are tucked into his wraps.
Draped in layers around his shoulders and hips are two different orange fabrics, a lighter orange with a burnt orange over it. The collar and skirt both cut into multiple sharp-curved points from which unnaturally glowing little stars hang. Atop his head is a burst of yellow petal-like pieces stuck out around his face, attached to a blue nightcap-style hat with another burst of smaller yellow petals at the tip that hide a small silver bell.
All this and it's his face that draws you in. The side you saw last night, his right, your left, is a pale yellow like his hand, with a round golden-yellow spot on his cheek like a bit of blush and a brightly glowing white eye surrounded by that black starburst. His smile on this side is gentle, sweet even, as this pale side is shaped like a crescent moon that splits his face..
The other side is a stark contrast.
A hollow black eye with a burning white pupil stares at you, you're reminded of Chica's soul-scorching glare. This side has no lips, instead it's almost skull-like with oversized teeth so sharp you're sure he could bite straight through your arm if he wanted. The little blue circle of blush on his cheek is distracting enough that you do not flinch when he moves.
"It's rude to stare, Starlight." He chides, gently teasing. You can't help but notice that while the light side of his face smiles, his mouth doesn't actually move when he speaks.
"You nearly smothered me last night." You balk, indignant that he could possibly call you rude after trying to suffocate you.
"We did not," He straightens up, but it's not aggressive, more surprised. "We were very careful not to cover your nose-"
"I can't b r e a t h e out of my nose right now." You motion to your clearly bruised and swollen face and watch his right side droop in dismay as he inspects you and realizes the extent of the damage.
"Oh goodness," He moves forward too fast to dodge, an arm wrapped around your back to pull you close. "I'm so sorry, Starlight, I didn't know."
"Hey-!" You press your hands against his chest, trying to keep him away and lean your head back when he lifts his other hand toward your face.
"This'll only hurt for a moment." He promises as you struggle to dodge his encroaching hand.
"Now hold on-!" You try to turn your head and yelp when he grabs your nose and gives it a hard squeeze. You’re not sure which is louder, the crunch or your scream. Bright lights dance in your vision and the way you're being cradled close to his chest takes your attention. You try to push away and take a sharp breath to scream at him, only to find that you can breathe through your nose again. It doesn't hurt any less, but being able to breathe helps.
"Stop touching me!" You snap, flailing your arms and wriggling out of his grip. "You keep grabbing me and touching my stuff! Stop it!"
You flinch at the sad look on his face and the way he crouches with his hands folded in front of him. It would be pitiful if he wasn't so much stronger and larger than you.
"Just…ask first next time! That hurt!" You gently touch your face, pouting at the way he brightens slightly.
"Of course! We did say it would hurt. Silly me! We're so used to just doing, I suppose we forget you haven't been here in so very long!" He clasps his hands together and stands up a little to match your height.
"What-?" You frown at him, no matter how painful it is.
"We've missed you terribly," He continued. "We weren't sure you were ever going to come back, but now you're home-!"
"Whoa whoa whoa," You put your hands up in his face and wave to get his attention. "Home? Back? The fuck are you talking about?" You want to grab his face and shake the answers out of him, but he gasps and holds his hands over his nonexistent ears.
“Language!” He gasps, eyes wide and face in a frown. You groan loudly and step backwards, trying to put distance between you. You feel your foot slip off the top stair and yelp as you tip backward. You jerk to a stop, The Attendant’s claw hooked in the bottom hem of your shirt. His arm is stretched out as though he’s trying so hard not to touch you.
“May I-?” He starts, but you grab his wrist and drag yourself back to solid ground on the porch, making sure to unhook his claw and step sideways to get a few feet between you.
“Look,” You cross your arms defensively. “I appreciate how much you seem to want to help me, you’ve been very kind so far, but I don’t know you and you keep doing some very weird sh…stuff.” You catch yourself from swearing again. “Who are you? Why are you here? What was that Chica monstrosity last night? Why are the kids in town so afraid of you?”
"Well," He tilts his head, arms sagging at his sides. "I guess it has been a very long time and we're not quite…'us' anymore."
"That answers absolutely nothing." You growl, glaring at him as best your broken nose will allow.
"Mm." He bends down to reach for your hand and freezes when you flinch back, realizing that he was going to touch you without asking again, instead he holds his hand out to you and waits. You really shouldn't and you don’t want to, but after a long moment you put your hand in his and feel a weird tingle when his smile turns oh so sweet.
"I'm Sundrop," He says. "I was…I am the Sunnyday Farm Attendant."
"Sundrop." You echo. Why does that sound familiar?
"I belonged to your grandfather before he passed," He puts his other hand over yours to hold your hand so tenderly. "Now I'm yours. I look forward to taking care of you."
Oh.
That's a feeling.
You turn your eyes away, unable to handle the way he's looking at you.
"Okay, Sundrop," You grip his cold hand briefly and then take your hand back. He stands up fully, looking beside himself with delight. "So, what about all the locked doors?" You ask as he steps past you and off the porch.
"Locked doors?" Sundrop taps his chin with a claw in thought. "Oh, you mean the greenhouse?"
"Yeah," You hop down the stairs after him. "And the gates and-"
"Oh! I keep those locked to keep monsters from wandering around or getting into what they shouldn't." Sunny leads the way towards the greenhouse, while you struggle to keep up with his long strides.
"And the doors in the house?" You press, practically jogging. It feels like he’s trying to escape your questioning.
"To keep you safe!" He chirps.
"From the monsters?" You scoff, but are met with silence. It feels heavier than it should, leaving you looking up at Sunny's back with a weird feeling in your chest. The click of a lock draws you out of your thoughts, realizing you've reached the greenhouse as he opens the door. He holds it open for you, smiling down at you as you look up at him with a wary look. Eventually curiosity gets the better of you and you slip past him and step inside. The farm outside is lovely, but the greenhouse takes your breath away. You count no less than eight different types of fruit, two of each type of tree, resulting in sixteen trees with branches hanging heavily with the weight of their fruit. The space around the trees is packed with summer spangle flowers of all different colors.
You breathe a small gasp of awe and step up to the edge of the dirt, looking up at a tree heavy with bright red pomegranates. You want to reach for one, but don't want to risk stepping on the flowers.
"Sunny-" You barely turn your head before Sundrop has joined you and is reaching up to grab the largest pomegranate he can find. He plucks it from the tree with a sharp twist and turns it in his hands, claws dragging over the skin. You watch as he cuts it open and turns it inside out, a few of the red seeds dropping to the ground as he hands it to you.
"Thank you." You mutter, taking it from him and plucking at the tasty little seeds within.
"Um," You clear your throat, Sundrop looking down at you. "The kids in town," Oh god, you don't know how to talk about this with an eight foot monster farmer. "Why did you save me and not them? They seem to think you're dangerous. They're afraid of you." Hell, you also think he’s dangerous, you’d be hard pressed to say you weren’t afraid. Your eyes meet Sundrop's and you look at each other for a moment. That heavy silence starts to creep back in before Sundrop breaks it with a softer tone.
"I…keep trespassers and thieves out." He says, tilting his head slightly. "I would never hurt them."
Okay. That's good to know. As long as he’s not lying.
"But,"
BUT?? BUT WHAT??
"My twin, Moondrop, is much more dangerous. It’s not safe for them here." Sundrop looks away as he touches the darker side of his face.
"How dangerous?" You grip your snack to your chest.
"…He would pull even you apart if given the chance." Sun looks at you with a sad smile.
‘Even’ you? That's not good. Very not good.
“…Why is it safe for me, but not the kids?” You press, your snack forgotten as you turn it nervously in your hands. Sundrop is quiet. He stands there in silence, a growing silence that makes your heartbeat pound in your ears, your breathing becoming difficult to control. So you change the question.
"Where IS your brother?" You ask, your hands shaking a little as you consider how unsafe you might actually be.
"He only comes out after sunset," Sunny assures you. "You're safe with me. During the day he can't get you."
You're not sure how much you believe any of that, but with how Sundrop has treated you, you really can't think of a reason to question him.
"I would…like to find those kids again," You say, popping a few more seeds in your mouth. "They might need food or a place to stay-"
"They can't stay here." Sundrop says firmly, turning his head toward you again.
“Why not?" You huff. “You still haven’t explained-”
"It's not big enough to keep that many people safe, they're safer where they are." Sundrop sighs, plucking another pomegranate from the tree. You pout a little, but shove a handful of seeds in your mouth.
"I still want to help them however I can," You puff up defiantly. "They're just kids and there's plenty of food to share."
Sundrop hums as he brings the fruit to his mouth. He opens his mouth for the first time since you've met him and you see the inky blackness that is the inside of his throat. He bites the pomegranate in half with a solid crunch, jaw snapping shut like a bear trap, and swallows it without chewing. You shudder when you remember how close his face was to yours last night.
"If that's what you want, Starlight." He purrs, tossing the other half back before stepping away to a small stack of supplies in the corner. He digs around a bit before turning back with a few wicker baskets in his grip.
"Shall we pick something for your friends then?" He smiles as you brighten and nod eagerly.
"Absolutely!" You bound forward and jut your hand out for a basket. Sundrop covers his mouth, muffling a giggle as he holds it down where you can take it from him.
You're going to grab as much fruit as you can carry to give to Haley and the boys. If Sundrop won’t answer your questions, maybe you’ll manage to get some more answers out of the kids in exchange for food.
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pointreyesjournal · 1 year
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Hare Trigger : ep209
Autumn: I’m stuffed. I think I ate too much breakfast.
Beri: Let’s go for a swim.
Autumn: Swim on a full stomach?
Beri: Yes, silly. We’re not going to drown. We’re going to disprove some old wives tales.
Autumn: A last act of defiance before actually becoming a wife?
Beri: Hahaha, exactly. Come on Cheyenne, the girls are going swimming!
Cheyenne’s long curvy figure is stretched out and her arm is bridging the gap between our two lounge chairs as we hold hands in our slumber. I can feel her give me a quick squeeze on my finger to let me know that she’s going to let my hand go so she can join the girls for a swim.
I open my eyes to the sight of the three girls posing on the beach for a selfie. Cheyenne in her red bikini, Autumn in her white bikini, and Beri in her blue bikini. It’s pure pornography for the mid thirties males in attendance. Three curvy American women in the prime of their lives, arms and legs tangled together like supermodels in a Peter Lindbergh photo, toes and butt cheeks covered in Sardinian beach sand.
Floody: Would you look at that? God Bless America.
Henrik: Haha. Vive la France!
Floody: Henrik, you’re such eurotrash. That looks like an American flag.
Henrik: French flag dude. We’re in the med!
Me: Bah! Vive la Bikini.
Henrik: Yes! Vive la Bikini.
Floody: I’ll drink to that.
Henrik: You’ll drink to anything, mate.
Me: So true!
The Mediterranean being a sea, not an ocean, means that unless the Mistral winds are blowing the water is supernaturally calm, especially here in the channel between Corsica and Sardinia. There’s a swim platform a solid 75 meters offshore and the girls are floating casually toward it like a little flotilla of flesh. It’s a good long swim, but they spend most of the journey across laying on their backs, half floating, half swimming, laughing and giggling all the while.
The diffused light under the umbrella is intoxicating and with the girls safely on the swim platform I begin to drift off toward a light nap. I begin to dream about predator drones flown by lop eared bunnies. Unfortunately a species that typically avoids conflict, the US military’s bunny pilot experiment fails miserably. Just as I’m beginning to contemplate the finer details for employing a herbivore for armed conflict, a commotion wakes me.
It’s Cheyenne. She’s standing on the swim platform waving our arms to get our attention.
“Send a kayak!” I hear faintly.
Floody: What is she saying?
Me: It sounds like she’s saying “Send a kayak.”
I shout back in reply “Is everyone okay?”
Cheyenne yells across the bay “Autumn isn’t feeling well and she needs a ride back to shore.”
Floody is alarmed. His pregnant damsel is in distress and she’s 75 meters offshore. We returned the pedal boats, but Floody and Henrik quickly convince the kid at the rental counter that we need one for just five minutes. The rental agent is initially hesitant, but when Floody explains the situation, the kid acquiesces. And it’s a good thing he did too, because I was beginning to imagine his Italian blood being spilled in the name of commerce as I watch Floody steam across the gap like a dreadnought to rescue his lady.
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homeimgs · 2 years
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Using Rustic Farmhouse Furniture in Your Home
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Using Rustic Farmhouse Furniture in Your Home incorporating rustic farmhouse furniture into your home will enhance your surroundings, and the following articles will give you some ideas for your home. You can also add some furniture to your home, like an Ottoman tray, a nightstand, or a console table. These pieces can be placed in any room of your farmhouse and will look great regardless of the decor style. You can even get some rustic wood furniture that has an aged look if you're into that type of decor.
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Nightstand
A rustic nightstand can add a classic touch to your bedroom, as it can be placed anywhere. Some designs feature a floating box silhouette, while others have bulky legs and traditional knobs. Farmhouse bedside tables are a great option for storage, as they can have one or more drawers for keeping knick-knacks and other items. Before choosing your rustic wood nightstand, take a moment to consider how you want to use it.
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The rustic nightstand is an excellent choice for rooms with a natural, organic feel. They often play the supporting role of a dresser or bed. They can also continue an existing decorative theme. Farmhouse-style nightstands combine elements of nature and industry, making them a great choice for any bedroom or other room in your home. Adding one of these rustic nightstands to your bedroom will add an instant farmhouse appeal to the area.
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For bedside storage, consider a nightstand made of rustic farmhouse furniture. A sawhorse-style console table can double as a mini workstation in the bedroom. And don't forget to add a provincial-style pendant light in a distressed wood finish over your kitchen island. A pair of shaker-style counter chairs will also turn an ordinary kitchen island into a farmhouse-style workstation.
Console table
If you are looking for the perfect piece of furniture to accompany your rustic farmhouse theme, then a console table is a perfect choice. These tables are available in reclaimed oak and vintage gray oak. They are also available in unfinished versions that you can apply your own finish. These tables can support up to 50 pounds. You will need two people to assemble these pieces. The solid pine reclaimed wood console table is 46" long, 10" wide, and 28" tall. They come fully assembled and are great for use as a console piece in a farmhouse dining room.
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When choosing a console table, choose one that has a functional storage space. A console table with drawers will provide ample storage space. These tables usually have two shelves, with the bottom shelf fixed to ensure stability. The top shelf can be raised or lowered depending on your needs. This allows you to decorate the surface with decorative objects and keep them organized. The mission-inspired styling on these tables includes curved base rails, tapered legs, and farmhouse decorative wood accents. Tumbled pewter hardware will give them a classic look. If you're looking for a console table that adds an extra bit of storage space and decor, a rustic farmhouse console table may be just what you need. This console table is equipped with two pull-out drawers that do not feature metal tracks. The distressed cream finish, as well as the rustic natural wood tabletop, complete the farmhouse look. Replace the plain white knobs with glass or wood knobs to add to the rustic farmhouse theme.
Ottoman tray
Whether you're updating your home's decor or just need extra storage, you can use an Ottoman Tray for your rustic farmhouse furniture. They are made from reclaimed wood and come in a wide variety of colors and styles, and you can use them to hold all of your necessities. A tray for your ottoman will also help you convert it into a convenient coffee table. The tray is great for holding your beverages or appetizers while you relax in bed. Having a tray makes breakfast in bed so much easier. An ottoman tray can be as large as 18 inches or as small as 19 inches. They can serve as a side table, a coffee table, or even a footrest. You can find rustic farmhouse furniture in two-tone finishes and are made of heavy-duty fabric. Ottoman trays are the perfect place for your books or other decorative objects. The versatility of an ottoman tray makes it a great addition to your room. Whether you're looking for a rustic-looking ottoman tray or a traditional farmhouse table, you're sure to find something that suits your style and complements your home. The possibilities are endless! The farmhouse style is perfect for homes with limited space, and a tray is a great way to showcase kid's artwork, books, and collectibles. This piece of rustic farmhouse furniture also features mounting hardware so you can customize it to your specifications.
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Another great option for adding farmhouse style to your home is an antique serving tray. These trays are useful for serving snacks, beverages, and appetizers. They can also be used for storing accessories such as cosmetics, media remotes, or a host of other uses. A wooden tray is an excellent choice for rustic farmhouse furniture. You can even purchase a set with decorative accessories and use it as a coffee table.
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Coffee table
If you're looking to create a more rustic feel in your home, a coffee table with a rustic farmhouse design is a great choice. Farmhouse tables do not have to be perfect, and their imperfections add to the charm of the design. For example, the farmhouse coffee table in the ana-white project below has rustic-styled wood and a shelf for storage. The table's sturdy construction makes it a great DIY project. Its versatile proportions and storage shelf on the bottom add to its appeal. The cost to build this table is low, making it a perfect project for beginners.
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A farmhouse-style coffee table often has an X-frame base and a large storage compartment. The distressed white paint is a beautiful contrast to the rustic details on the legs and metal accents on the corners. This piece includes a drawer for extra storage and is also available in a variety of colors. It is easy to find a table to match your style and budget. Make your living space as cozy and comfortable as possible by purchasing one of these rustic farmhouse furniture pieces.
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A farmhouse-style coffee table is an ideal addition to a living room. These tables come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and finishes. Choose a round table if space is an issue. Or go for a large mirrored table to reflect your style and decor. Farmhouse coffee tables can be easy to clean and often double up as credenzas or trolley carts. You can even find them in different finishes for an extra personal touch.
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zugunu-com · 2 years
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Classic Outdoor Distressed Dining Set
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Take a walk through the country lanes and come back home with tons of memories of the simpler days! And if that is not possible, then recreate that country magic right here in your apartment or on the balcony. You can bring home this distressed wood dining table set for two and place it in the kitchen so that you have an island with seating. Or, you can place this set in the balcony or the terrace with plenty of greenery around it. This table has the perfect blend of sturdy goodness and good looks thanks to the carefully distressed finish. The jungle theme colors will bring out the beauty of your plants and trees to make breakfast time a time to look forward to! Specification Table Size (LxBxH) : 30 x 25 x 30 Inch Chair Size (LxBxH) : 19 x 18.5 x 43 Inch Assembly Required: Yes Ship by: 2 to 3 Weeks
Finish/Polish
Keeping the Grains Visible We can offer a variety of finishes (in most cases, at No Extra Cost)! Except in a few products. Please note Making a Darker tone Product into a Light Tone finish is Like making a New Product Keep this in Mind, as Wood has different Tones, some have White, Brown, Reddish, Etc. tone. So we can adjust them to be in Darker Tone but Making the same in a Light Tone Will require us to make the Product with only Wood Planks that can support that idea of a Light tone finish. (Few Examples of common Polishes).
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- Natural Brown - Medium Brown - Dark Brown - Dark Mohagany - Medium Mohagany - Dark Tone Solid Color (Duco, Oil, Etc) Paint Yes, we can do any Color as Preferred by you at no cost except Golden, & a few other varieties! Distressed finish or ( Old )Antique Finish Giving a Product a Distressed or antique finish is a tedious & Laborious task as Like Each & every point of the Product has to be carefully crafted which requires an increase in the Cost Price.
Design
We can do little minor touches up’s, like making the shelf detachable. But overall (except in few cases) the Product will be newly created & on Custom Basis, and It will incur Extra Costing!
Personalization
We can Add or Carve a name on the Product at an Additional Cost (We can’t do Very Small Carving by Hand & we cannot do some Font styles, Because of their complexity). 
Typical Example of Customization:-
- Change the Finish - Alter the Design or Size (Increase the depth, Or Height & Add the Door Upper part or an Extra Shelf, Etc.) - Change the Hardware (Handles) to suit the House better - Carve the Name (For gifting purposes) - Carve some Beautiful Traditional Carving on the Product - Add a Functionality (in the case of a Lap-desk, the Tilt Mechanism In Solid Wood or In a Cabinet “Secret Compartment”, Etc.) - Or Best, Share your Design with your Pin code with us, and We shall Provide the Best Possible Quote! Read the full article
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