#artisanal home furnishings

[thegoodcultist]

I'm thinking about how people act towards artists selling their work and cheap mass production really has warped a lot of peoples views on craftmans ship, huh? It takes a lot of effort to make things, even if the end product is seen as medicore, it's still worth the cost. Afterall art is a luxary. Lot's of luxaries are now made commonplace and seen as expected. Just because someones handcrafted art is a little rough doesn't make it unwanted or of low value. Just because you can get something that 'does the job' from a supermarkets home section doesn't mean that the artist selling their handcrafted work that took them time, heart and tons energy for god forbid over £100 is overconfident greedy.

[indiatrendzs]

Rustic Elegance: Arizona Farmhouse Design with Eclectic Shabby Chic Vintage Furniture

Nestled in the rugged beauty of Arizona’s landscape lies a farmhouse that epitomizes rustic elegance and vintage charm. This haven of design seamlessly blends eclectic shabby chic vintage furniture with traditional elements, creating a space that is both inviting and captivating. Visit Our Online Store:-ETSY MOGULGALLERY  As you step into this farmhouse, you’re greeted by the warm embrace of…

[urbanwoodshed]

Urban Woodshed

Website: https://www.urbanwoodshed.com

Address: Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada

Urban Woodshed specializes in creating unique, handmade home décor items. The company's products, often crafted from repurposed materials like whiskey barrels and locally harvested timber, offer a blend of sustainability and style. They cater to those looking to add a touch of warmth and individuality to their living spaces.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/urbanwoodshed/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/woodshedurban

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[mxnsterbabe]

Male Shapeshifter/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 2,334 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You left home hoping for a new beginning, and stumble upon a safe haven in the carnival. The owner isn't what he seems, but maybe that's exactly why you trust him.

You sat on the edge of the hotel bed, a small stack of crumpled notes and coins spread out in front of you. Counting them for the third time didn’t change the total; it was still worryingly low. This money was supposed to buy you a new life; but all you had left was spare cash.

Had it been the right choice, leaving everything behind? The question gnawed at you as you glanced around the sparsely furnished hotel room. No roots put down, just fleeting encounters and temporary addresses. You had envisioned this journey as a liberation, a chance to get away from your stifling life. Maybe you’d been wrong.

Your eyes wandered to the window, drawn to a flicker in the distance. Past the glow of the streetlights, there was something different tonight—a distant glow. Squinting, you tried to make sense of it. A carnival, maybe? Curious, you leaned closer against the cool glass. 

The light hadn’t been there yesterday, had it? It drew you in, a golden glow against the black sky.

With a deep breath, you considered your dwindling funds once more. Maybe what you needed was a distraction, something fun and cheap to take your mind off things until you figured out a more… permanent solution.

Without waiting to change your mind, you tossed the purse into a handbag. Locking the door, a familiar twinge of uncertainty tugged at you as you made your way to the lobby. The night air greeted you with a crisp chill, and you shivered.

Outside, the street was unusually alive for this time of evening. Groups of people, families, and couples, all seemed to be migrating in the same direction—towards the bright lights that had captured your curiosity. 

Among them, a young orc man followed, his green skin glowing slightly under the street lamps. Maybe noticing your intrigued gaze, he smiled and shared, "it's Avalon Carnival. Comes around every summer. Haven't missed it since I was a kid." His voice carried a nostalgic warmth that made the lights ahead seem even more inviting.

With nothing more than a polite nod, you fell into step with the moving crowd, letting the hum of their excitement wash over you. The streets soon gave way to an open field, transformed into a bustling carnival ground. 

As you crossed the threshold, the real essence of the carnival came into full view—it was nothing like the cheap, gimmicky fairs you had visited as a kid.

This was the real thing.

Strings of lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a soft glow that illuminated faces filled with awe. You imagined your own face must have looked the same.

Tair was alive with the rich, sweet scents of candied apples and spicy mulled wine. Stalls lined the pathway, each offering a glimpse of something new — frmo games to handmade confectionary, to dwarven artisans selling little trinkets.

Further in, the carnival opened up into a wider space where performers waved at the audience. Acrobats twirled and flipped with elven grace. The gathered crowd, mostly elves and humans, watched on in rapt silence.

As you absorbed the dazzling display, a sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you from your reverie. Heart skipping, you whipped around — and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the man standing before you. 

Dark hair fell to his shoulders, swept back to reveal sharp, angular cheekbones and stubble dusting his chin. When he smiled, crows feet crinkled at the corner of his eyes and oh, he was lovely.

His eyes, startlingly blue, softened as you looked up at him. The corners of his lips tilted in a knowing smile. "You look a bit lost," he remarked, his voice a smooth. "Do you need help?"

"No, thank you," you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. Despite your words, his gaze lingered, and your cheeks warmed.

"I'm Avalon," he said, "if you need anything, just call my name and I’ll appear.”

Avalon. Hadn’t you heard that name before..? 

Oh! This was Avalon’s Carnival. Which meant… he owned this place.

The revelation made your heart stutter. The owner himself, standing right in front of you. You wondered why he had bothered to even say hello; you were nobody important. Nobody at all.

"I hope you're enjoying the night," he continued, his voice pulling you back from the edge of your thoughts. "This place is meant to be a sanctuary, a spot of light for those who are far from home."

His words struck a chord. You were far from home, if you even still had one. Yet here in this space, the possibility of staying suddenly seemed more real. 

The warmth in Avalon’s eyes, the slight tilt of his head as he regarded you—it all spoke of a kindness that was as disarming as it was genuine.

"Perhaps I could show you around?" Avalon offered, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "There’s much to see, and sometimes, the best parts of the carnival are not the obvious ones."

With a breath, you nodded. “That actually sounds lovely. Thank you.”

When Avalon extended his arm, you took it, practically melting into his warm body. He was so much taller than you, so much broader. He smelled faintly of cinnamon. 

Together, you began to weave through the carnival. The crowds seemed to part naturally for Avalon, people moving aside without seemingly meaning to.

As you walked past trapeze artists, and stalls brimming with all manner of foods and trinkets, a sense of delight washed over you. The air was filled with the sweet aroma of roasting nuts, and Avalon’s strange cinnamon cologne. 

Yet, as enchanting as the carnival was, you found your gaze drifting back to Avalon. There was something undeniably captivating about him. Whenever you glanced away, you noticed subtle shifts in his appearance—nothing drastic, but enough to blur the details if you looked from the corner of your eyes. 

His hair seemed to darken slightly, then lighten; his eyes occasionally flickered from one shade to another. Sometimes, his ears looked slightly pointed like an elf’s.

Your lips parted to ask about it, but those beautiful, expressive eyes fixed on you — your questions dissolved.

Turning away, cheeks hot, you quietened.

You expected him to lead you to another show, or maybe a grand tent that hosted the main events. Instead, Avalon guided you away from the heart of the carnival to a small hill on its outskirts. The noise of the carnival receded gently into a comforting hum, and the view from the hill was breathtaking. 

The carnival lights spread out before you, as far as you could see. Although you could still hear the buzz of the guests, it dimmed to a low murmur.

"Why here?" you found yourself asking, looking up at Avalon. When he smiled, you caught a glimpse of sharp teeth before he disentangled himself from your grip.

“I come here when I need to think,” Avalon said. “When it all gets a bit too much. You look like someone with a lot on your mind. Maybe you could make use of this spot, too.”

Nearby, someone had set up picnic benches and chairs, likely for quiet moments just like this. You moved towards them, the grass tickling your ankles, and took a seat on one of the benches. 

Avalon joined you, sitting across with his own gaze lingering on the scene. As you both settled in, your feet accidentally bumped under the table. It was a small, unexpected touch that sent a gentle ripple of awareness through you. You looked up, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, the vibrant carnival below faded into the background.

"Thank you," you said, your voice soft but sincere, "for showing me this place. It’s more than I could have expected." You paused, the question that had been gently simmering within you now finding its voice. "Why me, though? What makes me special?"

Avalon’s gaze returned to the carnival, but you sensed his attention was fully on you. "I have a certain... ability," he began, turning back to look at you with a thoughtful expression. "I can sense emotions. Among a sea of happy carnival-goers, you stood out. There’s something on your mind, something important."

You said nothing, trying to ignore how your heart fluttered. He moved as if to stand, perhaps feeling that his presence might impose; but as he rose, you reached out without thinking to take his hand. He paused.

"Please, stay," you found yourself saying, voice soft.

Avalon looked at your joined hands, then back at you, and something unspoken passed through his eyes before he sat down again, this time a little closer. 

As you both sat in silence, you couldn’t help but observe Avalon from the corner of your eye. His appearance shifted, almost imperceptibly, under the carnival lights. For a second he looked almost orcish, his features rough, skin tinged green; but as soon as you turned to look directly at him, he looked the same as always. 

It was mesmerizing, this chameleon-like nature of his. What was he? 

The quiet between you stretched comfortably, and your foot bumped his again. This time he didn’t move away and so neither did you, Converse gently tapping his boot.

You didn’t know why you had the sudden urge to tell Avalon everything. Maybe it was the silence, or his smile, or the fact that he had taken you to this quiet spot for no other reason that he wanted to.

"I left home," you admitted finally, brows scrunched as you said it.  "I was hoping to start new somewhere else. My family... they broke my trust." You paused, gathering the strength to continue. Biting your lip, you said, “they demanded money and never paid me back. Then my rent went up and I asked for the money back to put a deposit down somewhere new. They refused. I lost my house, and they wouldn't take me in. I haven't seen them since."

Avalon listened, his expression unchanging, yet his eyes softened. They were more green now, than blue.

“My parents have always been overspenders. Trips to Las Vegas, gambling. They were in a lot of debt, and I did my best to help them but… I think they resented that I started asking questions. That I wanted the money back.”

He stayed quiet, but one slender hand reached out to clasp yours. 

“It’s not like I asked for it back all at once. Just… I hoped they would have helped me the way I helped them, you know?”

Silence settled between you. The wind rustled. Below, cheers rose up from one of the big tents.

Finally, Avalon spoke. "Thank you for trusting me with your story. Places like these," he gestured vaguely at the carnival below, "they're meant to be sanctuaries. A lot of the people here have families who didn’t love them the way they should have. You’re not alone here."

His hand squeezed yours. You squeezed back. Sharp nails tickled your palm, never enough to actually hurt.

"You could stay," he said suddenly, voice firm but quiet. "There’s no need to decide right away what you’d do here. We have many roles, and everyone finds their place in time. Everyone is treated fairly, too.”

He shifted, free hand splayed across the picnic bench. Your own were beginning to sweat, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to move away. 

“You could talk to some of the carnival family, see for yourself."

The idea settled within you. The chance to travel with the carnival, to be part of a community — a family, even — was more than tempting. It was a vision of a life you had longed for, one where you could find your people. Live a life you wanted.

He was watching you, a softness in his eyes that made you shift. The carnival lights cast a warmth across his face, long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones.

The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, the background noise of the carnival fading into a distant murmur. 

Your heart beat a little faster, and without consciously deciding to, you found yourself leaning slightly closer. How easy would it have been, to lean in and press your lips to his?

Now, where had that thought come from? Remembering that he could sense emotions, you wondered if he knew how much you wanted to kiss him.

The sky was beginning to darken fully now, the first stars twinkling above you. You glanced up, smiling. 

“I never realised how beautiful the countryside is.”

When you looked back, Avalon looked different. His hair was longer, his eyes narrower. You swore they were almost golden. 

Before, you could have put his appearance down to a trick of the light. Now, even as you looked directly at him, you could see the gentle flux of his features — sharp and elven one second, skin almost glittering. Broader the next, with sharp teeth and blue-tinged skin.

Avalon turned away slightly, cheeks hot under your stare. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I hope this won’t affect your choice to stay.”

Without thinking, you leaned across the picnic table, your heart guiding your actions, and gently took his jaw in your hand. His skin was warm under your touch, and as you guided his face towards you, you felt him relax.

Without a word, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that made you shiver in delight. The kiss was gentle, his lips soft against your own; you sighed into it, eyes slipping closed, allowing Avalon’s presence to envelop you.

Finally, as you pulled away, the world rushed back in — the lights, the sounds, the chill of the night air. None of it could dispel the warmth that had blossomed in your chest. You smiled, a little breathlessly, and the words that followed were quiet.

"I'll stay."

He smiled, revealing pointed teeth. “I’m glad.”

[joelalorian]

Whisked Away

Dave York x f!reader | WC: 3200+ | Masterlist

Summary: Dave York is full of surprises. A secret getaway leads to the next step in your life with Dave. A follow-up to my one-shot Blown Away, but could be read as a standalone.

My contribution to @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs Creative Challenge.

No warnings for this one - it's pretty tame with some humor, fluff, and a teensy bit of angst. No use of y/n. Reader is pretty much a blank slate with hair.

Sunlight reflected off the crystal blue waters as the small plane descended over the luxury resort town. Your mouth dropped open at the view.  

“Welcome to Secret Springs,” the pilot announced over the radio. “The best-kept secret this side of the Rockies. Hope you all enjoy your stay.”

Dave refused to tell you a thing about this surprise getaway to celebrate your first anniversary together, the only information he offered limited to advice on what to pack. Even in your wildest dreams, you didn’t expect a trip to somewhere so extravagant.

Quaint like Cape Cod, the town was rich with culture and life, an air of money and vibrant excitement wafting through town the moment you stepped out of the airport. Artisanal shops and cafes lined both sides of the cobblestone street, the hired driver pointing out his favorite spots to recommend. Dave nodded in response to the recommendations he agreed with – apparently, he did a lot of preparation for this little getaway.

Your mouth dropped open again when the car pulled up in front of a stately inn, the wrap around porch and beautiful awnings restored to its once historical perfection. “Dave,” you breathed in astonishment as you walked inside, eyes widening at the silver leaf domed ceiling and hand carved wooden grand staircase. “This is too much.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, placing a kiss on the crown of your head after slipping the attendant a tip for taking care of your luggage. “This is exactly enough. Come on.” His handsome face split into a cheeky grin.

A weight had lifted from Dave’s shoulders after he quit the DIA and the contract work. Now, there was a bounce to his step and a brightness to his burnt umber eyes. You smiled lovingly watching him stride to the concierge and followed as Dave led you up the grand staircase to your third-floor suite. Good thing the attendant took care of the luggage for you both – there was no elevator in this historical treasure.

Breath once again stolen from your lungs, you shuffled into the large room, eyes taking in every little detail from the ornate, mahogany four-post bed to the clawfoot tub to the bay windows overlooking the lush landscape below. You could just see the water sparkling in the sunshine in the distance. The room was resplendent in antique furnishings, and, certain you’d never stayed anywhere quite so beautiful, you hesitated to touch anything for fear of breaking something priceless.

Flopping back onto the plush mattress, you giggled when Dave plopped down on his side next to you. Right arm bent to support his head, he stared down at you with those soulful puppy eyes, a smile curving his pouty lips.

“Did I make you happy?” Dave asked, fingertips blazing a gentle path down the side of your face.

“You always make me happy, Dave,” you replied in a soft voice. “But, right now, I’m downright euphoric.”

Chuckling, Dave leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm,” you giggled, pulling his face close for another kiss, this one deeper and sweeter, stoking the fire building inside you. “I think I should show you special thanks for making me delirious with happiness.”

“I like the sound of that,” his voice rumbled from deep within his chest as he pulled you up from the bed. “Let’s test out that tub before dinner.”

Filled with hot water and copious amounts of bubbles, the clawfoot tub was a luxury you wished you could take home with you when this trip ended. More than large enough for two, you could spend all night in there cuddled against Dave’s chest with his arms wrapped around you. Lovely and romantic, it gave honeymoon vibes, and, not for the first time, you wondered what it would be like to be married to Dave, though you dared not mention if for fear of scaring him away. During your time together, you got the sense he didn’t want to get married again, though he never explicitly said so.

Your vivid dreams and imagination pictured lazy afternoons, sketching him and the girls in your book as they played together in the yard, trips to the park and the mall, holidays full of merriment, maybe even a dog. A large, fluffy thing always happy to see you and chase the girls around the yard.

You pictured a house in the mountains, exchanging suits and dress skirts for jeans and hiking boots at the end of the day. Taking long hikes on the weekends. Romantic candlelight dinners on the patio during the weeks the girls were at Carol’s.

There would be the usual responsibilities like work and school and bills and… but you shook that reality away in favor of focusing on the happiness and love of being together, of coming together and changing each other’s lives the way that you did.

It was a pretty picture.

Your fingers itched to draw it.

Your heart longed to live it.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, sweetheart?” Dave questioned after a period of prolonged silence. He always read you so well.

“Hmmm,” you hummed,” just imagining the future.”

His broad body practically engulfed you as his arms tightened. “Tell me,” Dave’s voice purred in your ear, a command you could not deny. So, heart in your throat, you told him all the precious things you imagined while he nuzzled into your neck. When you finished, he peppered kisses across your shoulders. “Is that what you want? A life with me and the girls?”

The moment of truth… and you froze. Dave’s tone gave nothing away. Terrified of rejection, however soft he was with you, you merely hummed noncommittally.

Dave chuckled warmly. “Mmhmm, I get it. We haven’t talked about the future yet and you don’t want to get hurt if I don’t want the same things as you,” he murmured, hot breath in your ear causing a wave of gooseflesh across your skin. He was too good at getting right to the heart of the matter.

“I’ll go first, then. Ok?” he asked, placing a kiss on the tender flesh right beneath your ear. “That is the life I want… with you. Getting married and living somewhere exactly like this, spending our lives together in a quaint town with lots to do and see, watching the girls grow up and flourish. In fact, I can’t think of anything I want more.”

“Really? That’s what you want?” Turning your head, you saw him nod reassuringly. “It’s just… you always made it seem like you didn’t want to get married again.”

A laugh slipped past his lips before he could stop it and your shoulders hunched in dejection. “No, sweetheart…” his arms tightened around you until your skin practically melded together. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I swear.”

Part of you didn’t believe him, your breath catching in your throat as he tried to explain himself.

“My life was so different before I met you, sweetheart. I didn’t think finding love again was possible, not the way that I lost myself in the darkness of the contract work. Carol and I had been together so long, it was comfortable, but not romantic, not like it used to be. I thought I’d never have that again, so I put it from my mind.”

Dave’s thick fingers grazed across your skin as he spoke.

“I fell for you fast and hard, and if I’m being honest, it scared me a little. I couldn’t bring you into my life the way it was – it would have been unfair to you. It was already unfair to Carol and the girls… I couldn’t tell her everything, that’s part of why Carol wanted a divorce. I found myself wanting to tell you everything, to be a better man for you and the girls.”

“Dave—” He cut you off to continue his train of thought.

“Without realizing it, you gave me a reason to quit that life and all the things that made me unhappy,” he said, strong arms turned you to face him. His dark eyes glistened in the low light of the bathroom. “The past year has been amazing and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you how seriously I take what we have. I do want to get married again… to you. And only to you. When you’re ready.”

Tears leaked from your eyes, mixing with the tiny droplets of water still falling from your wet hair. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m glad we want the same things,” you said, voice rough from fighting back the tears for so long.

“Me, too. I love you, sweetheart.” Dave kissed you deeply then, teasing his tongue into your mouth. When he finally pulled back, he added, “I have another surprise to show you after dinner. After this conversation, I’m certain you’ll love it.”

“Just how many surprises have you been hiding from me?” you questioned with a grin.

“Just this last one, I promise.”

“I love you, Dave York.”

Dinner consisted of exquisite, tapas-style portions of tuna tartare, pan-seared scallops, mini beef wellingtons, and a few other delicacies cooked to perfection. Savory flavors burst across your palette with each bite. You didn’t want the culinary experience to end, especially when dessert included the most decadent chocolate mousse concoction that nearly had you orgasming at the table.

Appetites sated and senses dulled by a heady wine buzz, Dave escorted you down the sidewalk along the main street, your hands clasped with fingers entwined. The evening air was warm and dry without being oppressive, a gentle breeze tickling your skin and rustling your hair as you walked.

“I love you,” you blurted happily, feelings for this amazing man suddenly overwhelming, especially after your confessions earlier and the romantic dinner you just shared. His grip tightened around your hand as his lips curled up into a smile. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Could this evening get any better? Could this life you were building together get any better? You didn’t think so.

Dave slowed to a stop in front of an empty store front. “Here we are.”

Confused, you glanced around, searching for evidence of the surprise he told you about. All you saw were dark, empty windows and a tinted glass door giving nothing away. Seeing your bewildered expression, Dave stepped back towards the cobblestone street, pulling you with him, and pointed upward.

An artful marquee sparkled brightly above you, finally cluing you in to what he wanted you to see. “Whisked Away Art Gallery,” you read aloud in a shaky voice, “very whimsical.” After a moment, you turned to Dave with wide, wondrous eyes. “What is this?”

His resulting grin and excited, warm eyes melted your heart. “This is your art gallery, sweetheart.”

You gulped. Did you hear that right? Surely not. “Mine?” you questioned. “What do you mean my art gallery?”

Smile never dropping, Dave motioned you to follow him as he unlocked the door and led you inside, one hand reaching out to flick the lights on.

“I bought it, for you. It’s yours, baby. You can display your work and that of any other artists you chose. It’s time you shared your work with the world. It’s too good to keep hidden in that sketchbook of yours.”

His words washed over you without absorbing into your bewildered brain. Too fixated on staring around the large, empty space with your mouth open, imagination running wild as you envisioned various pieces artfully displayed on the walls. Shaking your head, you asked him to repeat what he said. You couldn’t believe it.

“But… how? I mean, it must have cost a fortune in a town like this. And how am I meant to—”

Pressing a thick finger to your lips, Dave cut off your impending spiral. “Remember that future we talked about earlier? This is the next step in building the life we want. You fell in love with this town as quickly and deeply as you fell in love with me. That’s gotta be a sign, right? This town was meant for us.”

You melted against his chest. How did he always know exactly what to say to you?

“You want to live here in Secret Springs? Together?” You spoke into Dave’s neck, lips grazing the skin.

“I know we haven’t talked about officially moving in together, but we’re always together at your place or mine. I thought maybe it’s time to take the next step,” he explained. A moment later, he hesitantly added, “Would you like that?”

You leant back, placing your hands on either side of Dave’s face, and stared directly into his beautiful brown eyes. “I would love that. A life with you is all I want.” You kissed him, letting your lips convey the depth of your feelings, your happiness instead of your words.

The world around you disappeared as Dave gave in fully to the kiss, the coil inside your core tightening with each playful stroke of his tongue against yours. At the first moan that slipped past your lips into Dave’s mouth, he pulled back, eyes full of lust and breathing heavily.

“Let’s get back to the inn, sweetheart. I have an idea on how we can celebrate taking the next step in our relationship.” Without waiting for a response, Dave grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the gallery, stopping only long enough to lock the door behind him.

The inn wasn’t far, conveniently located in the heart of the small town, but the journey back still took too long for your liking. Your need for Dave nearly overwhelmed you when he tugged you through the front door of the inn and up the three flights of stairs, all the while ignoring greetings from the staff and other guests. He was a man on a mission.

The door to the suite barely clicked shut before Dave pounced. He left a trail of searing, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and along the bare skin of your shoulders, slipping the thin straps of your dress down your arms. Dexterous fingers pulled the zipper down as his mouth blazed a trail of kisses right behind the falling fabric.

Dave stepped back when you stood before him in nothing but a pair of black, lacy panties. “Damn, baby,” he breathed, dark eyes burning with desire as he drank in the sight of you. Pointing to the large, cushioned ottoman near the antique settee, Dave added, “Face down and ass up on the ottoman, sweetheart.”

Later that night, you laid in bed with your head resting on Dave’s chest, one ear pressed to his skin listening to his heart thump. Having forgotten to close the curtains earlier, moonlight danced across the room from the bay windows. You loved the ethereal glow it left on yours and Dave’s skin.

“Dave?” you asked, lifting your head to rest your chin on his chest. Head resting on a pillow propped against the wooden headboard, he peeked at you with sleepy eyes.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” You felt more than heard his response, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest.

A million questions swirled in your brain from the conversation earlier, but where did you start?

“How were you able to buy the gallery? It had to be expensive in such a hidden gem like Secret Springs.”

With a yawn, Dave ran a hand over his face before smoothing it down your back. “I, uh, made a lot of money doing that contract work. That’s why the boys and I started doing it to begin with – to support ourselves and our families when the military kicked us to the wayside. It turned out to be more lucrative than any of us expected. I made more than enough to make sure the girls are taken care of and build our new life together.”

He paused, giving you the opportunity to ask for specifics if you felt the need, but you didn’t. You knew enough of the man he used to be and the things he thought he had to do to give Carol and the girls a life worth living. He wasn’t proud of the things he had to do to survive, but at least he did them with good intentions.

“Besides, it wasn’t nearly as expensive as you might think. I am a very thorough negotiator.” Dave smirked as you rolled your eyes.

“What about the girls?” you questioned.

“What about them?” he returned with furrowed brows.

“Won’t we be too far from them to keep the visitation the way it is? I don’t want you to miss out on any time with them, not with how fast they’re growing up.”

This was probably your biggest concern. You didn’t want Dave to regret any moves he made with you if they impacted his relationship with his girls. A truly devoted father, he loved Alice and Molly to pieces, and you refused to be an impediment to that.

Silence filled the air like static and you panicked for a moment. Was this the moment he realized being with you, starting a new life would cost him too much in terms of time with his girls?

Dave shifted down the bed until your bodies curled together from head to toe and his dark eyes stared into your worried gaze.

“Stop worrying, sweetheart,” he said, his deep voice gentle and smooth. “It will all work out, I promise. Carol was offered a promotion with a relocation; her new office will be in the next town over. Believe it or not, she’s the one who told me about this place and set all this in motion.”

You beamed at him. “Funny how things work out, isn’t it?” You couldn’t help the ‘what if’ thought of what would have happened if you weren’t both ready to move into together? Would you have tried long distance?

Looking at you with a gooey warmth in his eyes, Dave kissed your lips. “I know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. Stop worrying. Everything is working out just as it is meant to. Don’t waste energy thinking about the what ifs. Besides, if things didn’t work out like this, I would have figured out another way to have you with me wherever life took me.”

Tears sprang to your eyes unbidden. You couldn’t help it. Strong feelings always made you cry, and you felt such overwhelming love for Dave in that moment, fighting back the tears would have been a complete waste of time.

“Baby,” Dave cooed, pulling you impossibly closer, worried about your tears.

“They’re happy tears, I promise,” you blubbered, the tears only coming faster as you added, “I’m just so in love with you.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m so in love with you, too. It would really suck if I was in this on my own,” he teased, one hand cradling your as he pressed his lips to yours in a watery kiss.

“Are we really going to live in this amazing town?” you asked a little while later after the overwhelming emotions settled.

“As soon as we find the perfect house. Speaking of, I talked to a realtor, and we have a few lined up to see the day after tomorrow.”

How was this your life?

Exhaustion finally took over and you dreamt of finding the perfect house and building a life in this beautiful paradise.

fin

[indignantlemur]

Larger image (STRONGLY recommended): HERE The resolution on this is painful, so I'm including detail shots below the cut.

This meeting room was furnished many centuries ago by a renowned artisan who could carve stone and shells in stunning detail, and could shape and colour glass in a way that was never seen before and has never been replicated since. He took the secrets of his techniques to the grave, dying at an unexpectedly young age in a duel with a public safety official over the seizure of a rare and extremely toxic pigment imported from a Clan to the far south. His name was Kelenthor, and he was the only Clanless to ever attain such a high level of renown and fortune purely on his artistic talent. He lived during what would eventually be called the Post-Unification Andorian Renaissance. While this artisan was alive, he had a somewhat adversarial relationship with various officials and was known to use his art as a medium to mock and criticize his social betters. He was beloved by the general populace for exclusively taking on students from the lower social classes - almost as much as he was resented by the upper classes for his habit of hiding subversive messages in his commissioned works. Regardless of where one stood with Kelenthor, none could deny his talents. If you wanted the best of the best, Kelenthor was the one to commission. As such, he was eventually commissioned to design and create furnishings for a number of rooms and even entire buildings which are now used exclusively by government officials today or otherwise preserved as precious cultural works.

This particular room is widely regarded as his best work: the walls are conspicuously and almost insultingly plain, barely carved at all. At the centre of the room lies a heavy and imposing table of solid marbled stone - also barely ornamented, save some bevelling along the edges. The surface was treated with a substance which renders the stone almost entirely impervious to damage. No matter how one might rain blows upon it, barely a scratch remains to remember them by - much like many of the politicians who have sat at this table since its creation, which many believe was the subversive message behind the thing in the first place.

The focal points are the throne-like seats arrayed around the blunt instrument of a marble table, intricately carved and inlaid with precious shell and glasswork, iridescent and shining under even the faintest rays of light. Each scatters prisms randomly around the room, illuminating the shadows and often causing quite a few headaches when meetings stretch too long. More importantly, every single one of them was deliberately carved to be as uncomfortable as possible. No one in a position of power, Kelenthor once said, should be comfortable there.

First up, courting and wedding bands! Shral and Dagmar are only courting, so they have simple rings with minimal ornamentation, with Dagmar's being modified to fit as a cuff earring.

Thoris is married, so he has two bands on each antennae. Quite often marriage bands are more decorative and ostentatious than his, but Thoris isn't one for baubles and it's bad enough he has to wear these ridiculous robes. Frankly, if he could get away with just wearing his old Guardsman uniform to these meetings, he'd vastly prefer to. As such, his wedding bands are almost incongruously plain for his rank and status.

Next up, the lady and gentleman in the foreground! These two are Ministers, and high-ranking Andorians besides, so they ornament themselves rather loudly in comparison to our main cast's more sedate preferences. The lady on the left is Minister Zaathi, who we will be meeting in-fic very soon, and she's very fond of gemstones and carved hair beads - and not afraid of losing any, if she sheer number she's wearing are any indications. It's a weighted fashion statement, if nothing else, from a woman whose home province is small and relatively modest otherwise.

By comparison, Minister Bhael - on the right - is much more conservative in his ornamentation, but his robes are heavily embroidered and that is quite a lot of Andorian silk to be toting around. A closer look will reveal that his sleeves are embroidered with an ocean wave pattern, which is particularly interesting given the relationship Andorians have with the sea. Is it some kind of political statement, or just an odd choice of attire?

If those two are making statements with their sartorial choices, then Thoris has them all beat for layered meanings.

The silvery outer robes of office are closer to a cloak than a robe, with an inner layer that is belted around the waist and a loose outer layer that is joined to the inner layer at the shoulders and seams along the upper arms. This permits the maximum range of movement for the wearer. Being made of Andorian silk, which is several times stronger than Terran silk, it is an excellent means of protection against slashing and stabbing weapons. Despite their merits, however, Thoris loathes them. They're lightweight, sure, but they're still long and ostentatious and entirely too liable to get caught on something in a real fight. Sadly, they're also mandatory, or he'd have binned them ages ago.

The vibrant blue mid-layer is a heavy material, durable Andorian silk woven through with tiny filaments of something very similar to a carbon fibre composite, providing a measure of protection against many forms of projectiles, though less so against phase weapons. The innermost tunic is more obviously armoured than the other two layers, with panels mimicking an extensive chitin pattern along the length of the torso and forearms. The sleeves in particular draw attention to a very vibrant yellow flash - much like the chitin of the predatory veeg he is known for hunting in the past.

Next we come to Shral, who is obscured partially by shadow at Ambassador Thoris' right hand - and ready to draw his ushaan-tor at a moment's notice.

This is not standard armour for an Andorian, but rather something one might wear while sparring or training in their personal time. The armour takes the form of layered, almost beetle-shell like layers, layered over a long, cowl-necked tunic. The cowl is an unusual choice for sparring attire, as it provides a potential hand-hold for an opponent - only a very arrogant or a very skilled duelist would wear such a thing while sparring.

In contrast, Dagmar stands in the light on Thoris' left. Her working attire is lightly embroidered, and features large, pearly buttons - but otherwise she's almost conspicuously plainly dressed. Hyper aware of how shockingly pink she is in comparison to everyone else in the room, Dagmar wears muted and neutral colours to try to off-set how glaringly alien she is - which, ironically, only serves to highlight her differences even further.

@the-lady-general  @starrynightgardens  @emilie786  @horta-in-charge  @emochook  @velvet-luvie  @creature-of-the-stars @unknownfacelessfanfictions @auroramagpie

[apathmakerstale]

I NEED a romcom fic about each of the nations leaders battling for the WoL post-Endwalker, either romantically, familiarly, and politically when they start to think about finally settling down.

Think about it.

A.U with Zenos making Garlemald make peace for the sole reason of the WoL, as him literally killing his father for them and deposing the government is a pretty big indication he would like them there to always be able to fu-fight regardless of what his countryman think.

Hien claiming that since they won him his country back, then they can be rightfully rule alongside him, as well as being vied for by many leaders of the Azim Steppes since whatever tribe they are apart of auto-wins the Naadam each year. Sadu, Magni, Cirina etc.

Lyse and Raubahn putting them up as a potential new leader of Ala Mhigo and what better to rule alongside as than the women who helped also free it and popular figurehead- this one works more personally since my WoL is a Highlander.

Ishgard with Aymeric saying who better to help lead than the person who ended their millennia long war, as well as being personally patronized by the Father of Dragons, and adopted by House Fortemps.

Gridania and the Seedseer council claiming that since they’re a White Mage, that means they’re a honorary Padjal and should settle there along- another personal aside since my WoL grew up there, that it’s their home.

Limsa can claim that where better than the place where they’re the leader of a company of prestigious heroes, fought side-by-side with their admiral and offered a premium place in Costa Del Sol or help with furnishing their personal Island Sanctuary.

Ul’Dah has a pincer attack, with them being a close personal friend of the Sultana, and with two members of the Syndicate, and having one in their 'debt' (meaning they don't want to piss them off more). With Raubahn also wanting to support his queen, and also being a personal friend of the Mandervilles.

You can say Sharlayan has a bit of stake in that the WoL is the only one to ever visit the edge of the universe and has a trove of knowledge only know to them like the First, as well as being a friend of a highly respected house, and access to a lot of lost magicks.

Maybe even with Radz-a-Han there could be a push for them being the new Satrap, despite it being a defunct ceremonial position now as a confidant of many other dragons and the savior of their loved rulers sister.

Hingashi and by that I mean Kugane I struggle with since they're really isolationist, but WoL do have the possibility of being a coveted artisan who has a lot of pull with traders and connections with half the world’s leaders, who may also be attempting to court them if the end of Endwalker means anything. Plus the Four Lords being nearby who would be glad to have Tenzen’s inheritor nearby.

Go even further and have The First and all the nations there asking for them since they’re the savior of their world, and the Crystarium basically sees them as a Legend anyway with how often G'raha spoke of them so lovely and fondly and being the one who freed Eulemore. Add that with G'raha's adoration of you and spin it how you both could effectively explore the remainder of the world together in retirement.

GO FURTHER with even the Void with Zero and Golbez for pure humor.

Even toss in Ultima Thule to round out the absurdity.

And a dash of the Ancients watching it all and being jealous.

And all of these are backlit by the various Job/Class guilds who would love to have them in their respective nations, the allied tribes that would also love to have them, Bozja and the various other countries they've helped save- the possibilities are endless.

For maximum humor make it all during some world conference or peace talks or something so you have a ton of the rivals sniping at each other, bad flirting, and blatant attempts at bribery.

Annoyance, embarrassment or pure obliviousness could be the reaction of the WoL.

God I need to finish my backlog, I need this.

[mirellabruno]

EMILIE FLÖGE (1874-1952) First liberated Viennese woman, Austrian Coco Chanel immortalized in Klimt’s phenomenal Kiss. (re)ascending the social ladder Emilie Flöge was born into a Viennese artisan family that had only recently ascended the ladder of social respectability. Her father Hermann was a master turner who had founded a firm that exported Meerschaum pipes, mostly to the British market. between silk and lace Always passionate about fashion, Emilie quickly started working as a seamstress, and when her elder sister, Pauline, opened a dressmaking school in Vienna, Emilie willingly agreed to help. Two years later, in 1895, the two of them won a prestigious dressmaking competition. In 1904 Flöge sisters opened the couture house Schwestern Flöge in Vienna, with interiors designed by Josef Hoffmann. It quickly became a successful enterprise luring wealthy clients committed to modernity in all its forms. At its prime, the company employed nearly 80 workers. reforming the dress In addition to heading the Schwestern Flöge, Emilie also maintained a direct, hands-on role in production, often pinning fabric to a dummy (custom-made to a client’s proportions) before directing fabric-cutters to reassemble it. She traveled to Paris twice a year to source fabric, belts and buttons. But what really fascinated her, was an idea to rethink women’s dress. Using her familiarity with Wiener Werkstätte projects, folk costumes and Japanese textiles, she soon created her very own Reform Dress. revolutionizing fashion stores By the time Chanel opened her first salon in Paris, Flöge had been producing cutting-edge designs in Vienna for several years. Her loose, flowing and bold dresses rejected the tight-laced style of historicist Vienna already carving out new roles for women in the industry. Flöge’s fashion celebrated physical freedom, self-expression, closeness to nature, and the vitality of other ethnicities from within the Austro-Hungarian Empire itself to the Far East. Unlike other retail stores, the Flöge sisters displayed alluring art objects that were not for sale. The store was decorated with beauticians, tortoise shell combs, marbled paper notebooks, silver chalices and hand-carved wooden dolls. Instead of copying popular design trends of the time, Schwestern Flöge was furnished with sleek, adjustable mirrors; geometric, carved wood chairs; and black-and-white chequered tables. relationship with Klimt In 1892 Emilie was introduced to Ernst Klimt, who recently got engaged with her sister - Helene. He was a talented painter gaining recognition for his work alongside his younger brother - Gustav. After Ernst’s death in December 1892, Gustav was made Helene's guardian. At that time Emilie was eighteen years old and Gustav became a frequent guest at the home of her parents, spending the summers with the Flöge family at Lake Attersee. By 1897, Emilie Flöge and Gustav Klimt had become inseparable, and most Viennese close to the couple assumed that she had in fact become his mistress. While there can be no doubt that the couple were passionately attached emotionally, and would spend countless hours in each other's company over the next two decades, some scholars have raised the possibility that their relationship always remained platonic. After 1891, Klimt portrayed her in many of his works. Experts believe that his painting The Kiss (1907–08) shows the artist and Emilie Flöge as lovers. Klimt also drew some garments for the Flöge salon in the rational dress style - a style promoted by the feminist movement - and from 1898, other clothes designed by the Vienna Secession. fin de siècle By the time Nazis invaded Austria in 1938, many of Schwestern Flöge’s clientele, who were Jewish, had fled the country or were deported to concentration camps. Like neighboring businesses — both established and burgeoning — they were forced to close. Emilie Flöge never wrote her memoirs, but despite the paucity of sources historians have been able to reconstruct the story of her powerful influence as the muse of one of fin-de-siècle Vienna's greatest artists. Among the last survivors from an utterly vanished world, she died in Vienna on May 26, 1952. KNOW MORE: https://www.harpersbazaar.com/culture/art-books-music/a12241915/klimt-muse-emilie-floge-forgotten-fashion-designer/ https://www.crfashionbook.com/culture/a22835087/emilie-floge-art-fashion-cr-muse/ https://www.encyclopedia.com/women/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/floge-emilie-1874-1952

[fashionbooksmilano]

Pierre Frey Textiles, Wallpapers, Carpets, and Furniture

A Family Legacy of Passion and Creativity

Text Patrick Frey Photogeraphy Mattia Aquila

Flammarion, Paris 2023, 400 pages, 25x32cm, ISBN 9782080421999

euro 78,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

Pierre Frey, the leading French producer of furniture, textiles and wallcoverings, seamlessly combines artisanal craftsmanship with modernity. Enchanting brocades and damasks, luminous hand-woven silken velvets, traditional woodblock printed fabrics, striking contemporary patterns made into works of art: Pierre Frey, a family business founded in 1935, is famous for the variety and boldness of its inspired designs, and has asserted itself in the luxury market as the uncontested global leader in soft furnishing textiles and wallpapers. Having acquired the venerable houses Braquenié and Le Manach, Pierre Frey possesses one of the most important private textile heritages in the world. Pierre Frey has worked with the Louvre and the château de Versailles, decorated castle interiors, and provides the fabrics and wallpapers of elegant private homes around the world—from Paris to Hong Kong to New York. Drawing from their archives of more than 25,000 documents, which date from the sixteenth century to the present, this indispensable volume will serve as a reference and a basis for contemporary inspiration to professional and amateur designers.

15/11/23

[nine-figures-decor]

Best Furniture Manufacturer in Varanasi - Nine Figures Decor

When it comes to furnishing your home or office, choosing the right furniture manufacturer is crucial. Quality furniture enhances the aesthetic appeal of your space, provides comfort, and stands the test of time.

As a leading furniture manufacturer in Varanasi, Nine Figures Decor takes pride in offering top-notch furniture pieces that combine style, durability, and functionality.

Why Choose Nine Figures Decor as the best furniture manufacturer in Varanasi?

1. Superior Craftsmanship: At Nine Figures Decor, we believe that the foundation of exceptional furniture lies in superior craftsmanship. Our team of skilled artisans and craftsmen bring years of experience and expertise to every piece of furniture they create. From the selection of the finest raw materials to the meticulous attention to detail in the finishing touches, we ensure that every piece of furniture meets the highest standards of quality.

2. Wide Range of Products: As a premier furniture manufacturer in Varanasi, we offer a wide range of furniture options to cater to diverse tastes and needs. Whether you're looking for elegant living room furniture, functional office furniture, or stylish bedroom sets, Nine Figures Decor has something for everyone. Our extensive catalog includes sofas, bed-back cushions, and more, all designed to elevate the aesthetic and comfort of your space.

3. Customization Options: We understand that every customer has unique preferences and requirements. That's why we offer customization options to tailor our furniture to your specific needs. From choosing the type of wood and upholstery to selecting the design and dimensions, you can personalize your furniture to match your vision perfectly. Our dedicated team works closely with you to bring your ideas to life, ensuring that your furniture is as unique as you are.

4. Sustainable Practices: At Nine Figures Decor, we are committed to sustainability and eco-friendly practices. We source our raw materials responsibly and prioritize the use of sustainable wood and eco-friendly finishes. Our manufacturing processes are designed to minimize waste and reduce our environmental footprint. By choosing our furniture, you're not only investing in quality but also supporting a greener planet.

5. Unparalleled Customer Service: Customer satisfaction is at the heart of everything we do. From the moment you walk into our showroom or contact us, our friendly and knowledgeable staff are here to assist you every step of the way. We provide expert guidance to help you make informed decisions and offer after-sales support to ensure that you're completely satisfied with your purchase.

Conclusion: Visit Nine Figures Decor Today!

When it comes to finding the best furniture manufacturer in Varanasi, Nine Figures Decor stands out for its superior craftsmanship, wide range of products, customization options, sustainable practices, and unparalleled customer service. Our commitment to quality ensures that every piece of furniture we create enhances the beauty and comfort of your space while standing the test of time.

Visit Nine Figures Decor today to explore our exquisite collection of furniture and experience the difference that quality craftsmanship makes. Whether you’re furnishing your home or office, our team is here to help you find the perfect pieces to elevate your space. Discover why Nine Figures Decor is the trusted choice for furniture manufacturing in Varanasi.

[indiatrendzs]

The art of Decorating in Indian Style

The art of decorating in Indian style is governed by its cultural diversity and the richness of traditions, ancient text called Vaastu which is similar to feng shui. Beautifully elegant and stylishly happy, radiating positivity, Vaastu or the yoga of interiors combines interior décor with the ancient traditions of Vedas. The balance of energy is very important in creating a home that is happy an…

[nirmalafurn]

Upgrade Your Office: Nirmala Furnishers - Comfort & Style Within Budget

Immerse yourself in the ultimate comfort and style experience with Nirmala Furnisherss!

Our luxurious furniture collection is a masterful blend of artisanal craftsmanship, premium materials, and innovative design, carefully curated to elevate your space and enhance your lifestyle.

Whether you're seeking to revamp your home, office, or commercial space, our expertly crafted pieces promise to impress.

Visit us today and discover the art of furniture making redefined!

[moodliving]

Transform Your Sydney Home with MoodLiving: Expert Tips for Stunning Interior Design

Welcome to MoodLiving, where your dream home becomes a reality. As Sydney's premier interior design resource, we're here to guide you through the process of transforming your living space into a sanctuary of style and comfort. Whether you're moving into a new home, renovating your current space, or simply seeking a refresh, our expert tips and inspiration will help you create a stunning interior that reflects your unique taste and lifestyle.

1. Embrace Sydney's Coastal Vibes

Sydney is renowned for its beautiful beaches and laid-back coastal lifestyle. Bring that relaxed, beachy feel into your home with a palette of soft blues, sandy neutrals, and crisp whites. Incorporate natural materials like rattan, jute, and driftwood to enhance the coastal aesthetic. Large windows and open spaces will allow natural light to flood your rooms, creating a bright and airy atmosphere reminiscent of Sydney’s stunning shoreline.

2. Mix Modern and Heritage Elements

Sydney’s rich history and contemporary vibrancy offer a unique blend of old and new. Reflect this in your home by combining modern furnishings with heritage pieces. Think sleek, minimalist furniture paired with vintage accessories or architectural details. This fusion creates a dynamic and layered look that pays homage to Sydney’s diverse architectural landscape.

3. Utilize Outdoor Spaces

Sydney’s temperate climate makes outdoor living an integral part of home life. Extend your interior design to your outdoor areas by creating stylish and functional spaces for entertaining and relaxation. Consider adding a chic outdoor dining set, cozy lounge chairs, and lush greenery to create a seamless transition between indoor and outdoor living.

4. Create a Statement with Art

Art plays a crucial role in defining your home's character. Sydney’s vibrant art scene offers endless opportunities to find unique pieces that speak to you. Whether you prefer contemporary art, Aboriginal pieces, or photography, select artwork that complements your color scheme and enhances the overall aesthetic of your space. Don’t be afraid to go bold – a statement piece can become a focal point and conversation starter.

5. Prioritize Comfort and Functionality

A beautiful home should also be a comfortable one. Choose furniture and decor that not only looks good but also meets your practical needs. In living rooms, opt for plush sofas and cozy rugs that invite relaxation. In kitchens and bathrooms, consider innovative storage solutions to keep the space organized and functional. Balance style and practicality to create a home that serves as a haven for you and your family.

6. Personalize Your Space

Your home should be a reflection of your personality and experiences. Incorporate personal touches such as family heirlooms, travel souvenirs, and custom-made items to add warmth and individuality to your space. These personal elements tell your story and make your home uniquely yours.

7. Stay Sustainable

Sustainability is increasingly important in modern interior design. Opt for eco-friendly materials and energy-efficient appliances to reduce your environmental footprint. Consider upcycling vintage furniture or investing in pieces from local artisans who use sustainable practices. A green approach not only benefits the planet but also brings a sense of purpose and mindfulness to your home design.

Discover the MoodLiving Difference

At MoodLiving, we believe that interior design should be accessible and enjoyable for everyone. Our expert team is dedicated to helping you navigate the latest trends and timeless styles to create a home that truly resonates with you. Explore our blog for more tips, inspiration, and resources tailored to the unique charm of Sydney living.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr 86: A View of the Sky

And the settling in process starts all over.

Eyes followed them everywhere. They had an escort of einherjar, and Loki had ordered the path cleared, but there were always going to be people going about their business, always going to be people who had to see so badly, they'd risk anything.

And so eyes followed them, as he guided the two Frost Giants through the halls, continuing to wear his own blue skin along the way.

Perhaps he should have made a parade of it, and got the gawking over with. It seemed a poor idea for the little one though. Angrboda huddled in her caretaker's arms, no more than a confused toddler.

His wife. The Princess-In-Waiting. A tiny child. Older than him, technically, but still a tiny, tiny child. What was he going to do about this? What was he going to tell you?

He wasn't going to marry a baby, obviously. But what would be the political ramifications of sending her back home empty-handed? If she was meant to be raised to be his partner in life, what other options awaited her back on Jotunheim?

Their rooms had been roughly prepared in an unfinished wing. The insulation had been left out of the walls, and the roofs left open to the sky, to give the giants as much access to cold as possible. Loki was already planning on how to use the tunnels for temperature controlled housing once the Spring arrived.

The rooms were sparsely furnished so far; Jotun sized furniture was in short supply. At least the child had a proper bed, desk, and chair, but she would need more as she grew. As for Heid, cushions had been heaped on the floor for her to arrange as she saw fit, until a fully sized bed could be built.

Some of the artisans had already accepted the challenge, putting them ahead of those who had refused or hesitated. There had also been a few volunteers to create a wardrobe for the two icy refugees. Asgardians certainly loved a challenge.

And there was a challenge to be overcome here. Jotun skin, though tough and durable, thrived in the cold and the air, and needed to breathe. Wearing this shape, Loki's relatively light armor felt stifling. These two might be uncomfortable, even in their airiest fabrics. An Asgardian lady might show her bare arms, and even shoulders if she were very daring, but Heid presented yards of exposed, dangerous flesh.

And that was the real trouble. So much visible skin might be scandalous to Asgardians, but that could be waived as simply a difference in culture. But that danger could not be ignored. It could not be assumed the Heid, with her superior size, would never accidentally brush up against somebody. That Angrboda would not get overexcited about something, forget herself and hug someone. Was she even old enough to comprehend the danger she posed?

She stood in the middle of the main room, squinting up at the clear blue sky.

“It's so bright.” she said in her tiny voice.

“Yes. This planet is very close to its star.”

“I never came up here before.”

“I should say not. It was far too dangerous then. It's less dangerous now.”

“Asgard won't hurt us?”

“Not while I breathe.”

She gazed up at him, ruby eyes inquisitive.

“I was supposed to meet you as a baby. But they said I couldn't meet you because you died. How did you not die? Is it because you're so small? Why are you so small?”

Loki kept his even smile under the barrage of questions. No doubt there was much she was confused about, mixed in with the natural curiosity of a child.

“Well. To begin with, I truly might have died, had I stayed on Jotunheim. I was awfully small, after all. I didn't die though, because Asgard's previous king stumbled across me. He didn't understand the customs; he just saw a helpless creature and felt pity. Perhaps if I had gone back to the stars, I'd have returned and grown large. But this is as big as I get, I'm afraid.

As for why...I wondered about that for a long time, and I've finally figured it out. My mother came here. She intended to live here, and raise me here. And so I was born the right size to live here, and grew to a proper size for this planet.”

“Is this world small? I heard Asgard was small, and that's why everyone there is small.”

“No, this world is quite large actually! Eventually, you'll be able to see more of it. Would you like that?”

The child nodded.

“Nanna says I have to be careful though. If I touch any humans, they'll die.”

“They might.” Loki admitted. “There is power in your body that is unfamiliar here. And humans are very soft creatures. But they are also fairly resourceful, so we will figure something out.”

“Nanna said that's why we had to come here. Re-sourc-es. We didn't have enough, so we came here. But it didn't work.”

“No...I'm afraid it didn't...”

Resources. That was the root of everybody's problems, wasn't it? It was why humans fought each other. It was what Thanos claimed to be worried about. And it was why the Frost Giants had come to this planet in the first place. It was, in a way, why Asgard was here now as well.

Loki thought about the sheer number of Jotun warriors who had been slain in that war. Odin had chased them all the way back to their iceball world to continue the slaughter there. Every species had a finite number, and the Frost Giants, like Asgardians, could die in an instant, but took a long time to replenish those numbers.

When Loki had 'visited' Jotunheim, he had been surrounded by evidence of fallen glory; crumbling arches, cracked floors. Was that evidence of a mad king's careless rule, as he had initially assumed? Or had Asgard slain so many of the Giants that there were not enough left to maintain even the king's dwelling?

It was one way to slow down the use of resources, certainly. But it was also the worst way.

The rising volcano from your dreams came back to him. Things were changing on Jotunheim. A warming world might make more resources available, for a people that were able to adapt. Perhaps that would be his only useful act as king.

Or perhaps he was simply trying to find a way out of culpability for the destruction he had wrought.

When this child looked at him with her red, red eyes, it troubled him. She was clearly so innocent, so inexperienced. She had no understanding of the things that drove others to kill. She might not even have understood what war even was. He felt almost ashamed to be near her, as if he didn't deserve to be looked upon by such purity.

He understood his father much better in that moment, and he resented it.

******

“A child!?!” You exclaimed, scandalized.

“Well, technically, she's older than me, but yes.” Loki said. “Human rulers pledged their children to each other all the time, did they not? It's not like I'm actually going to marry her! That ship has long since sailed.”

“Does that mean she's nobility?” you asked. “How do you even treat Jotun nobility? Or does that matter?”

You'd spent some time learning, not only all the possible titles for the various tiers of Asgardian aristocracy, but those for what remained of the human peerage as well, since the possibility that you would meet such people was much higher now. Heck, you'd even learned titles for Vanir and Alfar high society, though their cultures and what they valued differed from the others. But what about Jotun?

“Eh, I don't know too much about Jotun pledging customs.” Loki admitted. “It just...never really came up. Ah, but I have a reliable source of information now. The child's guardian, Heid. I can learn from her all the things I was so carefully steered away from when I was young.”

“That's a good idea, but isn't she the one that's stuck on the whole child bride thing?” you pointed out.

“To her, it's as if no more than a day has passed. She'll soon see how ridiculous the whole proposition is.” Loki said, but you weren't certain. Royalty had really strict rules and codes of conduct, didn't they? And...well...one day you would die. Everybody knew that. One day, you wouldn't be here, and Angrboda would. She'd still be a kid by the time you were gone, but both she and Loki would live on. Wouldn't it solve things with Jotunheim? Wasn't that what these kinds of unions were supposed to do? When she was older, and you were long, long gone, wouldn't it be prudent at least to think about it? As a Seidkona, an advisor, shouldn't you bring that up?

But you just couldn't. Not while you still lived. Not while she was still a little kid. This task could fall to whatever advisors came after you.

“Alright. So, when do I meet them?”

Loki hesitated.

“Once I've talked to them a bit more. We're throwing quite a lot at them all at once. I think it might be best to let them settle in. At least until their room is finished.”

“Fine. Have you had lunch?”

Goodness no! Can we?”

You wondered briefly if the Crown Prince sitting at a beat up old wooden table in the back of the kitchen, scarfing down a hastily prepared meal was a common sight to the kitchen staff. But only briefly. The cooks didn't act any different, and your sandwich was calling to you with much more urgency.

[highpriestofptah]

New patio!

I renovated the patio outside my home in ACNH! The sides are similar, but furnished differently in their own ways to represent two characters and their interests.

Huy's side

This side represents Huy and his silly interests!

The DIY workbench and pottery are a reference to Huy's position as the High Priest of Ptah, who multi-classes as the "Greatest Director of craftsmanship and artisans." In some cosmologies, Ptah creates humans in the image of the gods out of clay with a pottery wheel. The pottery also symbolises Huy's side hobby with arts and crafts.

The Cards and magic kit relate to his silly interests in magic, sleight of hand, and cardistry. He can dribble cards, do some cup and ball torture, and perform for others with the extra seating on his side of the patio. When he has more guests, he can give a little street performance!

The Box of chocolates is from his partner with blue wrapping that reminds him of lapis lazuli. He enjoys them because he prefers anything sweet-flavoured.

Huy's partner's side

This side represents Huy's partner.

The various books strewn about represent his partner's natural love of learning, and knowledge.

The pottery represents the same as it does for Huy, but there is a bit more of it on this side to suggest many attempts at it, or a determination to practise the craft.

The painting of Huy serves as a muse and inspiration to create all things. Huy provides motivation, encouragement, support, and guidance to his partner. Huy's partner painted this to practise painting techniques--and as an excuse to have Huy model for them!

There is less seating on Huy's partner's side of the patio since they don't have the same amount of energy to host or entertain as Huy does. Both people are introverted, but only Huy has enough energy to appear extroverted. Huy's partner keeps to themselves, or has small, intimate gatherings at the home when they do have guests.

This side is next to the beach where both can sit on the couch and listen to the ocean. There is a small vine hanging from this cliff that leads right to the beach below, where there is another more intimate spot the two can have to themselves under the stars.

[alphabitchnkari]

@skxrbrand

While the furious Skarbrand marched off into N'kari's palace, the keeper himself is wailing over his destroyed home.

The Wyrm Skull, which he had paid artisans to repair time and time again, is in shambles. N'kari picks through the rubble, sorting through broken furnishing. He finds the remains of his daybed, half charred and covered in dust and scratches. The duvet he had painstakingly sown for his beloved is unsalvageable, the mammoth hairs melted into one and another.

As a Slaaneshi spirit, N'kari always tries to live in the moment, but there is something devastating to return from a trip to find your home razed. All the sentimentality attach to every piece of home makes every scrap a treasure.

This had been the first abode shared by him and Skarbrand. Where they first made love. Where he first freed the exile from his curse. Where they had lain quietly waiting for uncertain doom.

And not only the big memories. There were countless small moments. A shared meal, their tired contentment post battle, relaxing in the dawn light.

The Malalians would pay for this. But for now, he will mourn.