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#Single Mattress Ireland
dtaylor67 · 1 month
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Storage Meets Style: Incorporating Ottoman Divan Beds in Your Home ?
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Elevate Your Home with Luxury and Functionality: Ottoman Divan Beds in Ireland
In the quest for a harmonious blend of style and practicality in home furnishings, the Ottoman Divan Bed emerges as a beacon of sophistication and convenience. For those in Ireland seeking to optimize their living spaces with both luxury and functionality, incorporating these versatile pieces can be a game-changer. Let’s delve into why Ottoman Divan Beds are the epitome of storage meets style, and how they can transform your Irish abode.
Luxury Redefined: At the heart of the Ottoman Divan Bed lies an essence of luxury unparalleled. Crafted with meticulous attention to detail and using premium materials, these beds exude opulence in every inch. From sumptuous upholstery to elegant designs, a Luxury Divan Bed elevates the aesthetic appeal of any bedroom in Ireland effortlessly.
Dual Functionality: What sets Ottoman Divan Beds apart is their ingenious incorporation of storage within the bed frame itself. Beneath the mattress lies a spacious storage compartment, ideal for stowing away extra linens, pillows, or seasonal clothing. This dual functionality maximizes space utilization without compromising on style, making it an ideal choice for modern Irish homes.
Tailored to Your Taste: With a plethora of options available, Divans Ireland collections offer something for every discerning homeowner. Whether you prefer a classic upholstered design or a contemporary silhouette, Divan Beds Ireland brands provide a diverse range to suit various décor preferences and bedroom aesthetics.
Space-Saving Solution: In a country like Ireland, where space is often at a premium, Ottoman Divan Beds offer a practical solution to storage woes. By seamlessly integrating storage into the bed frame, these beds optimize floor space, making them ideal for apartments, townhouses, or any compact living environment.
Quality Craftsmanship: Investing in a Divan Bed Ireland guarantees not only style and functionality but also superior craftsmanship. Built to last, these beds offer durability and longevity, ensuring years of comfort and satisfaction for homeowners across Ireland.
Incorporating an Ottoman Divan Bed into your home in Ireland is more than just a practical choice; it’s a statement of style and luxury. With their seamless blend of elegance and functionality, these beds redefine the concept of storage, offering a chic solution for modern living spaces. Experience the epitome of luxury and convenience with a Luxury Divan Bed — the perfect addition to any Irish home.
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livingstyleup · 2 months
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Experience Unmatched Comfort with RespaBeds, Premium Single Mattresses in Ireland
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Step into the world of unparalleled comfort with RespaBeds, a name synonymous with luxury in Ireland. Our premium single mattresses are meticulously designed to provide you with an exceptional sleeping experience. Dive into the richness of our luxury pocket mattresses, recognized among the most luxurious mattress brands worldwide. With RespaBeds, every night is a journey into the realm of opulence and tranquility. Experience the ultimate in sleep luxury with RespaBeds today.
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vox-ex · 7 months
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cottage
supercorptober 2023
I don’t want to lose a single thread from the intricate brocade of this happiness
-Mary Oliver
or Lena and Kara return to her childhood home in Ireland for a second time a year later
a follow-up to day 1 wild
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Autumn makes the ground grow soft. Readying the earth to yield itself to the weight of rain and snow and the tread of boots until it can give way again to a verdant Spring.
She lets herself be soft with it. Lets herself sink into the earth just a little. Lets the tall grass cover her. She inhales deeply, the scent of moss and heather filling her lungs. The world is slow and steady, its urgency buried far beneath the soil now — far beneath her.
She hears the door close in the distance.
Knows Kara's voice will soon follow.
"I'm back."
She pushes onto her elbows, sits with her legs stretched out in front of her, brushes some of the grass from her knees. Knows there is more still clinging to her back when she feels the faint dampness of her sweater touch her skin.
Her feet follow the well-worn path through the meadow back.
As she stepped inside, the cottage seemed to breathe with a gentle sigh, its stone and timbers settling into the rhythm of the world a little bit more each time they came back.
Kara is right there, balancing on one foot as she pulls at her boot, her muddy footprints marking the wooden floor as she hops back and forth.
Lena chuckles softly to herself at the sight.
"I'll clean it up, I promise," she murmurs, tongue pressed tight between her lips in concentration.
"I know you will." Lena goes over, presses a kiss to her cheek, and walks back towards the kitchen.
Kara's hand slips from the wall, but she manages to pull her boot off before falling, raising it up triumphantly.
"ah-ha!"
But Lena misses the grin on her face, misses the playfulness in her eyes.
Doesn't realize she's stopped with her hand on the door jam until she feels Kara's arms wrap around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder.
"You okay?"
Lena nods, fingers tracing the marks there, softer now, worn, faded just a little. "I'm fine."
She counts all the marks on the door.
Wonders if she will ever stop noticing them.
Wonders if she wants to.
The two beneath her fingers are a year old now.
But the two to right are nearly brand new.
The four at the bottom are as old as the room itself.
There's one last one now too, about halfway up, Esme's name etched beside it.
She can feel the warmth of Kara's body seeping into hers. She leans back into her.
"I still think Alex cheated. There's no way she's the same height as me."
The heaviness in her chest gives way to the lightness in Kara's voice, and she lets out a quiet laugh.
Kara turns her around, arms wrapping fully around her as she presses them together.
"Is it cold out?"
Lena tilts her head back, chin resting on Kara's sternum.
"Just a little."
"Your sweater is a little damp."
She rubs her hands up and down her back, crinkle in her brow.
Lena nods, voice a little tired now, despite the early evening.
"Just a little."
Kara pulls away just a little. Pulls the sweater she's wearing over her head, letting the white cotton t-shirt underneath lift up just enough that Lena's fingers can trace the strip of skin at her waist.
"You're lucky I'm not ticklish." Kara grins, holding out her sweater towards Lena.
Lena smiles, taking it and trading it for her own. The warmth of Kara's body still lingering on the fabric.
Come on," Kara says softly, tugging at her hand. "Let's go lay down for a bit."
And this time, Kara leads them back not into the meadow but into the room here that has become theirs — into the bed that has become theirs.
Strands of dark hair spilled across Kara's chest and the soft cotton of the linen sheets beneath them. She reaches out to take Kara's hand, threading their fingers together as they sink into the mattress as if it were the soft Autumn earth. But the ground outside is not the only thing that has grown softer. She has grown softer, too. Not just in the way one's body does; in the way the earth does — rounded at its edges from time, from all the things that have pressed against it. But she is softer too with her grief, with her pain — with herself.
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read and follow along on Ao3 too
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sunjaesol · 2 years
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rosaline x dario | rosaline (2022) | fluffy one-shot
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He woke up to the sound of a scratching quill on thick paper. Dario sighed. It was the middle of the night with a single burning candle slowly losing its wax right by the desk. And behind it was his beautiful though stubborn wife, Rosaline. Of course, she didn't listen when he told her to go to bed. Did she ever?
"Rosaline," he sighed.
She hummed something.
"Come to bed."
"Sri Lanka isn't gonna draw itself, Dario," she uttered. Her long auburn hair appeared as fire in the lowlight and its sight made his stomach warm. He would never get used to seeing her in any hour of the day.
Looking over her shoulder, she raised her brows at him. "No reaction?"
He shrugged and stretched his arms behind his head. "Will it change your mind?"
"Probably not."
"Hm."
She placed her quill down and turned fully towards him, her inked hands in her lap. He wanted to reach out, lure her from the desk into bed and his arms. He loved their daily squabble, but he adored holding her, kissing her. But from the look on her face, he knew she wasn't done.
"Do you think we'll ever go there?" she asked.
"If we can get our hands on a caravel, sure," he replied casually. "Though I must say, my love, it's not in our budget."
Her lips tutted. "Damn. Shouldn't have given Romeo and Juliet your boat."
Dario smirked. "I regret that decision every day."
"Really?" she asked. Her eyes widened, wondering, and his sardonic smile melted to a gentle one.
"No," he whispered. "I don't. Come to bed, Rosaline. Please."
Something shifted in her posture. Her shoulders slackened and she nodded, grabbing the candlestick and moving it to the nightstand.
The inn was nicer than most they've stayed at, Dario noted. Thick wooden flooring and walls that kept the cold of the British Isles at bay. A firm mattress and plush pillows. A perfect mahogany desk for his love. She'd steal it if it weren't so heavy, she told him earlier today.
In a couple of hours, they would explore the Connemara of Ireland; a mountainous beauty with many lakes and coves. He would fish and attempt to learn the dialect, she would paint and draw and, eventually, add it to her map of Western Europe. It was a lot different to little Verona.
Rosaline laid beside him. "You're patient," she whispered.
"One of us has to be," he teased, soft, a gentle hand caressing her cheek.
Her head tilted to kiss him, capturing his lips as a hand clutched his neck.
This is what he had always wanted: discovering the world with the love of his life, his equal, one day at a time and not rushing through milestones. His father has been badgering him about an heir through countless letters, but he ignored them. What Rosaline and him wanted would always triumph his parents' wishes and expectations.
"I love you," she exhaled.
It was maybe the hundredth time she told him, but it never got old. Digging his nose in the crook of her neck, he let out a content sigh and closed his eyes. "I love you, too, Rosaline."
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breitzbachbea · 4 months
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Used @/partywithponies One Line Fic Idea generator and got this:
It's time to write some smutty seaside holiday that's also somehow hopeful.
Not sure how I'll do this, but I'll try under the cut:
"It's kind of amazing how far we've come," Charlie said, barely covered by the blanket on the mattress in the van as he stared out, catching the hint of sea at the horizon.
"I mean, it's the other end of Ireland, but it's not that far, Ireland's not that big," Marco said after he had stopped drinking. He could feel the sweat cling to the hair on his body, to every single curl.
"That's not what I meant," Charlie said with a smile and looked back at his boyfriend. "I meant how sweet most of the people we've met have been. We've been going through the Gaeltacht and the most disdain I think I've gotten was for obviously not being a culchie."
Marco grinned and suddenly burst into laughter. "That one time you nearly got stuck in the cattle grid," he then said as explanation and broke into another fit of laughter. Charlie rolled his eyes with a grin.
"I just think it's so nice. I don't feel scared out here, being with you, having sex with you, I just ... It's amazing. People have left this country for the homophobia and I could not and would not trade it for the world. I know I'm metropolitan like Oscar Wilde, but I don't want to be buried in Paris. I know it's not gonna be Glasnevin and I don't care for a catholic Graveyard, but ... Dublin it should be. "
Marco had listened to his boyfriend, arm on his forehead. " ... yeah, now that I'm thinking about it, I can't imagine not being buried in Sicily. It's cool to see the world, but ... I know where I'm from. And I'm not afraid of being myself but ... I know it's not an ideal world, so it's nice to see people being kind to you and hope that one day, the opposite will be something damning rather than expected."
They just looked at each other for a moment before Charlie's eyes dropped and he ran his fingers through his chesthair, while outside, the ocean ate away at the cliffs.
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sochilll · 5 months
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Tagged by @tigerlilycorinne-fanfiction (and also by @kachinnate like a million years ago and i never got to it heehee) <3
Relationship status: single I don’t want anyone in my house
Fav color: red :)
Song stuck in head: J CHRIST by lil nas x (has been on repeat since it dropped 3 days ago what can I say)
Last song i listened to: Twin Size Mattress by The Front Bottoms 😔👊🏻
Dream trip: ummm I kind of hate Traveling however Ireland was beautiful and very fun and I would like to go back there one day! I got to hold a lamb!
Last thing I googled: “how to play go” lol I was watching Knives Out and I am always so confused by the go scene also did u guys know they’re making a third one? I am so excited
Last thing I searched on YouTube: “jenna marbles reviewing bad apps” an all time fave rewatch
I tag anyone and everyone who wants to answer some silly little questions!
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queeniecook · 2 years
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Get to Know Me
[useless info edition]
I was tagged by @zosa95 & @ljfoxie . Thanks for the tag dearies!
1. What do you have under your bed? Another mattress. My bed is one on top of the other. Yep lol.
2. Favorite candy? Depends on the day, tbh. Love chocolate though lol.
3. Describe your favorite shirt: It was a pink tank top I had. I liked it for the material, not the color. But I lost it lmao.
4. The last thing you drew/doodled was: I filled in the o's on my work paper last night out of boredom.
5. Are you completely sober rn? Yes.
6. What's the one thing that annoys you more than anything? Rude people. You get a lot of them in customer service.
7. Have you ever gotten your tongue stuck to a cold pole during winter? Hah, no.
8. If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be? Ireland, exploring castles and standing on a cliff looking into their sea. Preferably at a warm time of year though. I detest cold.
9. What was the single last word you spoke? "No" because my cat Athena is trying to but in on Simba's time in my lap.
So to tag people I want to know more about.. if you have already been tagged, I'm sorry lol. @holocene-sims @historysims4 @whyhellosims @treason-and-plot
#get to know me tag
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readtherunes · 9 months
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Letting Go Is Harder Than Taking The Leap
I was always the shy, faltering girl. The girl with too much intelligence and too little resolve. I watched others who arguably, had less raw giftedness and intelligence than I did, leapt into things with wild abandon and somehow came out on the other side successful.
I'd watch them from the safety of my little corner as they took the trip, published the book, changed careers, moved somewhere unfamiliar, took up strange hobbies, and took wild chances on love.
The narrative that repeated itself over and over as I watched these people with a mixture of admiration, fear, and envy was just that they were better at taking the leap than me. That was my issue, I told myself. I'd stand at the edge of the cliff and look down at the shimmering water below, wanting nothing more than to feel myself submerged in it, but I couldn't ever force myself to even let my toes touch the cliff's dusty edge.
"I'm just someone who values security and safety," is what I told myself.
At some point, it became too much, and I found myself finally, at 27 years old, moving across the country to a city where I knew no one -- taking only the belongings that would fit into my 2005 Acura Sedan.
I threw myself into the whirl of the new city and began to meet people who lit me up. For the first time in my life, I had friends. I started dating more ruthlessly, cutting out anyone who triggered the feelings of abandonment and fear that had dominated every single relationship I'd been in since I was 16. I met someone who made me feel like I was jumping into the depths every single day, but I stuck it out, and he's still here. I went to Ireland and drove down the entire coastline, reveling in its emptiness during the off-season. I spend days and days hiking with only my own company, telling myself I could handle anything the wilderness threw at me.
And I told myself that all this progress was because I'd finally figured out how to TAKE THE LEAP, in some sort of Tony Robbin's sort of way, where I pushed my reluctant feet to walk across coals and came out on the other side, sweating and gloating like a kid that shot a winning goal in a soccer game. I had DONE THE THING.
But the reality is much less inspiring. It isn't something people write books about and talk about on podcasts.
The reality wasn't that the leaps of faith changed me. What changed me was letting go of things that were not good for me or things that had just run their course. Every change came about because I had let go of something else first.
When I moved, I did so because I was letting go of a relationship that had kept me in a toxic circle of on again and off again for three years. I sat shaking in my studio apartment after the latest incident, where he had called me a bitch and told me no man could ever live up to my standards. I sat there crying and finally felt a quiet whisper in my mind. "There is nothing else you can do to help him. It is time to let go."
My lease was up next week, and that's when I packed my car and left. I knew the distance would prevent me from being pulled back in. It was final this time.
While I grieved that relationship on a blow-up mattress in my new empty apartment, I finally confronted the trauma from my childhood that had sent me into the arms of men who hated me in the first place.
I wrote my parents a letter, asking them to, among other things, own up to the sexual abuse that had happened in my extended family and to own up to the fact that they had raised me in a right-wing cult.
This pretty much ended my relationship with them. They could only relate to me as a small, watered-down, broken version of myself. They could not form a relationship with who I was as an adult. I had always just been an extension of them. The prodigal daughter who would one day come back and get married and have kids and settle into a deeply isolated religious life.
I finally realized after years of begging and trying to get through to them that nothing would ever work. They would never be able to see me as an independent being apart from them. I would never have the normal family I saw everyone around me having.
I spent days and weeks and months grieving that too.
But the space that was created when I finally let myself face the loss of what I wanted with my parents and my ex -- a thing that had never even existed--that space was filled by new friends, new passions, new love.
And now, I am sitting in my living room, packing to move my entire life to San Diego. When I visited to make the decision of whether I wanted to move, I knew it was time. The past four years of healing were done, and it was time for the next leap. It was time to be in a larger, creative community.
Then I got home to my life near the mountains and felt the old fear creep up again. This place has been good to me. The mountains gave me the solace I needed to build myself back up piece by piece and start to take chances. The community I made here became my real family.
And still. I knew it was time to go. This phase was done, and it was time to move to the next, while still having nothing but love for this place that gave me the space to grow into myself.
So, I'm sitting here now, packing my clothes into boxes. Looking out at the mountains on the horizon, getting ready for the next leap, but first, letting go of something I still want to grasp onto. Letting myself grieve, but loosening my grip and clearing out my hands to hold something new.
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2theburgs · 9 months
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Sept 2 Vateray to Benebcula (86.27 km)
We woke up, reluctantly (at least for me) and made our way down for a full Scottish Breakfast at the #castlebayhotel. A huge meal, which was fitting for the day's work ahead. Ken tried blood pudding for the first time...I did not...the breakfast was reminiscent of the many breakfasts at the B&Bs in Ireland. The only thing missing was the resident dog, which was on the receiving end of my blood pudding each day. So today, it just stayed on my plate. The rest was delicious. We packed up our paniers and set out the door to actually go South to Vatersay, as this is where the Hebridean Way actually starts. Bit of a rough start, sleep deprived and within the first km we were making our way up a 16% grade hill...on hybrids...with 30 lbs of stuff attached to the bikes. It's in these moments where one wonders what one was thinking! Thankfully, what goes up must come down and we (cough cough, I) continued to suffer along making our way up and down until we got to the starting point. Thankfully, a kind local quickly stopped us as we sailed back the starting point marker, we turned around and got a starting point selfie. Cruising on Vatersay towards the Barra ferry proved to be fairly easy with a strong tail wind. We arrived at the ferry terminal and met two other cyclists who quickly asked us if we had tickets already. Apparently the ferry had already sold out. I had a brief moment of pride where I could tell Ken my Type A plan and book everything personality was paying off, because we sure did have ferry tickets. As it turned out...it was no problem for the other folks to get on the ferry. My pride quickly turned to shame, when not a single person was asked to show a ticket. Hm. Still, we did get to eat at the best restaurant on Barra last night because of my ridiculous planning (place fully booked), so..you win some you lose some. We landed on Eriskay to continue the journey North, stopping at a small shop for a coffee, and..after mustering up a lot of courage, asking about the elusive Eriskay Ponies and how to find them. As it turns out they are confined to the hills during summer to prevent them from eating a local flower. We didn't have the energy to go hiking for ponies, especially because we weren't even half way yet. We stopped at the AM Politician for lunch. An aptly named restaurant after the SS Politician, a cargo ship, wrecked here in 1941. It was en route to New Orleans and Jamaica. It had 300,000 Jamaican bank notes and 260,000 bottles of whisky. The restaurant had some relics from the wreck and took them out for us to see. We continued on crossing the causeway to South Uist. We stopped at the local museum to learn about life on the islands. It wasn't easy. They made beds out of driftwood, mattresses out of seaweed, and farmed peat moss to heat their homes in the winter. The museum also has the skeleton of a woman from AD 800, excavated during an archeological dig. Pressing on, we landed on Benbecula around 5:30 pm. We stayed in the home of a lovely Scottish couple and their dog, Maggie. We had dinner at a local restaurant. We've been quite impressed with the fact that dogs are as welcome as humans here. There were 3 dogs dining alongside their owners. Score point one for Scotland, I couldn't agree more with this rule. After snuggling every pup we could find, we headed home and called it a night.
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phelanspharmacy · 1 year
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Mobility Grab Rails Eire Steel & Plastic Grab Rails
Ubuy's specific transport choice is a premium supply service that prioritises your order and delivers it inside 3-6 business days. Select the express transport possibility throughout checkout to use this service. In some cases, categorical delivery might require a further cost, relying bed pan on your location and order dimension. Important to notice that availability of the product, transport location, and different components may influence delivery times. Floor-standing bookrests can be found for people who are lying flat and are therefore unable to carry a e-book.
Designed for use on divan type beds; suitable for use on single, double or kingsize beds. The Clamp-Rail may be adjusted to any suitable top because the user requires, the metal plate merely clamps the rail securely in place when the right top has been selected bed rail for elderly. A 20mm plywood template is equipped with pre-drilled 12mm holes aligned to the holes within the steel fixing plate. Clamp the template to the bed frame to use the template information holes. This additionally prevents floor fabric upholstery from being caught or torn by the drill.
It is easiest if the mattress floor and the seat top are at the identical level. Some folks discover it difficult to get to the edge of the bed to swing their legs over the side. In order to maneuver throughout the bed, folks must lift their backside clear of the mattress floor. However, most people find their arms usually are not lengthy sufficient to do this while in a seated position, significantly if they are nicely constructed, or the mattress is gentle and allows their hands to sink down into it. A physiotherapist or occupational therapist may have the ability to advise on a specific approach to make use of or, alternatively, the following equipment may help.
If you are a native business in Ireland and 'Order Online', 'Click & Collect', 'Delivery', 'Book Online', are methods your business sells then getlocal.ie is for you. Getlocal.ie is developed in Ireland to assist Irish consumers and retailers connect bed grab rail providing a better approach to store. The detachable grab bar consists of a grip out of high-strength plastic (ABS) and two sturdy artificial rubber suction cups.
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I respect the short service regardless of every thing going on on the earth right now, I'll positively advocate yourselves at Medguard to my colleagues should they need to purchase gear or materials. Etsy is no longer supporting older versions of your net browser to find a way to be certain that consumer data remains safe bed rail. Sit again, loosen up and await the lightning quick supply of your required product to your doorstep. These could be draped across the bed and provide storage pockets by which to keep bits and items similar to books, knitting, TV controls and so forth. The beanbag on the underside of the tray moulds to the shape of the lap to supply a extra secure floor than a conventional tray.
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dtaylor67 · 1 month
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Orthopedic Bed Buying Guide: Key Features to Look For ?
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Your Comprehensive Orthopedic Bed Buying Guide: Essential Features for the Perfect Rest in Ireland
In today’s fast-paced world, quality sleep is more crucial than ever, and investing in the right orthopedic bed can make all the difference. For those residing in Ireland, ensuring a good night’s rest is easier than ever with a myriad of options available, including Orthopedic Mattress Ireland collections and Orthopedic Beds Ireland brands. However, with so many choices, it’s essential to know what features to look for to make the best decision for your sleep needs. Here’s a comprehensive guide to help you navigate through the process seamlessly.
Orthopedic Support: The primary feature to consider is the level of orthopedic support the bed offers. Look for Orthopedic Bed Mattress options designed to align your spine and provide optimal support to alleviate pressure points.
Customizable Comfort: Everyone has unique comfort preferences. Opt for mattresses that offer customization options, such as firmness levels or adjustable features, ensuring your bed caters to your specific needs.
Material Quality: The quality of materials used significantly impacts the bed’s durability and comfort. Choose Orthopaedic Bed options crafted from premium materials like memory foam, latex, or hybrid constructions for long-lasting comfort.
Size Variants: Whether you’re looking for a Single Mattress Ireland or a King Size Mattress Ireland, ensure the bed comes in various size options to fit your bedroom space and accommodate your sleeping preferences.
Motion Isolation: If you share your bed, motion isolation is crucial to prevent disturbances from your partner’s movements. Look for mattresses with features like pocketed coils or memory foam that minimize motion transfer.
Breathability and Temperature Regulation: Ireland’s climate can vary, so selecting a mattress with breathable materials and temperature-regulating properties ensures a comfortable sleep environment year-round.
Trial Period and Warranty: Finally, consider the brand’s trial period and warranty to ensure your investment is protected. Many reputable mattress brands offer generous trial periods and warranties, providing peace of mind with your purchase.
When shopping for your Orthopedic Bed in Ireland, remember to prioritize these essential features to ensure a restful and rejuvenating sleep experience. With the right Orthopedic Mattress Ireland collection, you’ll wake up feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the day ahead. Happy mattress hunting!
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sounmashnews · 2 years
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[ad_1] Editor’s Note: This story is a part of As Equals, CNN’s ongoing sequence on gender inequality. For details about how the sequence is funded and extra, take a look at our FAQs. Amsterdam, the Netherlands CNN  —  It’s early night in an prosperous neighborhood within the Dutch metropolis of Haarlem and mattress and breakfast house owners Arnoud and Marika are ready for his or her subsequent visitor to reach. They’ve ready their single room for her, a brightly coloured area with huge home windows overlooking a leafy drive. The traveller is a lady from France. She’s solely staying one evening, however her hosts need her to really feel at dwelling as a result of she’s not right here on trip. She’s come to have a second-trimester abortion. The Netherlands is certainly one of only a few international locations in Europe the place entry to abortion is feasible previous 12 weeks of being pregnant, and Arnoud and Marika’s visitor is certainly one of round 3,000 individuals from overseas who've accessed one yearly in recent times. Here, abortions for non-Dutch residents may be carried out till 22 weeks, based on Dutch abortion suppliers, and nationals can entry terminations as much as 24 weeks. In the United Kingdom (except for Northern Ireland), it’s potential for anybody to get an abortion till 24 weeks, and for a really restricted set of circumstances afterwards, nevertheless Brexit has made it more and more tougher for individuals to journey there. And in Spain, abortions previous 14 weeks of being pregnant are solely authorized underneath extraordinarily restricted circumstances, though abortion rights teams say the regulation is commonly interpreted loosely. The restrictions imply that, for a lot of of their second trimester, the Netherlands is their final probability to entry a protected abortion. By opening up their dwelling, Arnoud and Marika have change into a part of a grassroots community of individuals serving to to facilitate that entry. “This is a house without taboos,” Arnoud advised CNN. Arnoud and Marika are pseudonyms that CNN agreed to make use of over issues that the couple’s B&B – which can also be the place they reside – will probably be focused by anti-abortion protesters. Now of their 70s, the retired pair have made it their mission to be a welcoming level of entry for the individuals they host, a lot of whom they obtain bleary eyed from an extended day or extra of journey, punctuated by weeks of tension and stress main as much as the journey. “They are so relieved, they have made this terrible journey, and they come in and they’re crying,” Marika stated. “I love to be a light for them.” Arnoud and Marika look by means of messages written by their company of their B&B in Haarlem. Photo: Kara Fox/CNN Arnoud and Marika’s visitor e book. “Thanks for the kind words that cheered me up,” a message from a Polish visitor in September reads. Photo: Kara Fox/CNN Since they opened their B&B seven years in the past, Arnoud and Marika say they've hosted round 350 people seeking abortion care from throughout Europe. They clarify that some got here alone, others have been joined by companions or pals, whereas some introduced their household. At first, the vast majority of their company got here from France and Germany, the place abortion is on the market till 14 and 12 weeks of being pregnant, respectively. (France prolonged that point restrict from 12 to 14 weeks earlier this 12 months.) They say they've additionally hosted plenty of ladies from different European international locations together with Belgium and Luxembourg, and Romania. One lady traveled from so far as the Caribbean island of Martinique, they stated. But in recent times information exhibits the demographics have modified,
with an inflow of individuals now touring to the Netherlands from Poland, after the nation’s highest courtroom additional tightened its abortion legal guidelines – which have been already among the many strictest in Europe. The numbers coming to the Netherlands from Poland have swelled additional as Ukrainians displaced there because of the warfare discover they should search protected abortion entry past Polish borders. In October 2020, Poland’s Constitutional Tribunal banned just about all abortions, permitting them solely in circumstances the place the being pregnant was a results of rape or incest, or if the pregnant particular person’s life was in danger. The regulation came into effect the next January. Prior to this, abortions have been additionally allowed within the case of fetal abnormalities – which accounted for about 97% of all recognized authorized terminations carried out in Poland in 2019, based on information from the Polish Ministry of Health. The change within the regulation has left many individuals in Poland with out authorized entry to protected terminations in their very own nation, and has created an much more hostile setting for abortion rights activists and people searching for abortions. When requested concerning the worsening climate for these searching for or offering abortions in Poland, an announcement supplied to CNN by the Polish authorities merely reiterated the regulation, saying: “In the event of a situation that threatens the life or health of a pregnant woman (e.g. suspected infection of the uterine cavity, hemorrhage, etc.) …it is lawful to terminate a pregnancy immediately.” “The decision whether there are circumstances in which the pregnancy threatens the life or health of the pregnant woman is and can only be made by a doctor in a specific case,” the assertion added. But abortion rights activists say the regulation has created a chilling impact on healthcare suppliers, with some docs showing extra terrified of potential repercussions that embrace prosecution than doing every thing they'll to save lots of a pregnant particular person’s life. Three pregnant women have died in Polish hospitals after being denied an abortion for the reason that courtroom choice, based on Abortion Support Network, a UK-based group that helps individuals in Poland acquire abortion care as a part of the Abortion Without Borders (AWB) community. AWB was fashioned in response to the Polish authorities’s lengthy standing proposals to ban abortion in 2019. The grassroots feminist community is made up of six organizations from Poland, the UK, Germany and the Netherlands. They say the Polish state is failing ladies and have made it their mission to make sure protected entry to abortion for any cause an individual chooses to have one – together with whether or not the being pregnant is needed or not. “We don’t want to make you feel like you have to explain yourself, and that you have to earn your abortion with a sob story,” stated Polish abortion rights activist Kasia Roszak. Roszak, who now lives in Amsterdam the place she works with Abortion Network Amsterdam (a part of AWB), says she is aware of precisely the way it feels to not have company over her reproductive rights, which is likely one of the causes she works to make sure entry for anybody globally who wants it. “We believe that abortions are part of life. It can be an empowering, positive experience. And if it’s not, if it’s something hard for you, then we’re going to give you space and validation of your feelings,” Roszak stated. “I feel like it’s my responsibility to be able to share with people that there are options.” From December 2020 to December 2021, AWB says they helped 32,000 individuals from Poland entry abortions throughout Europe – an virtually six-fold enhance from the earlier 12 months.
In 2021, the community says they facilitated journey for 1,186 individuals in Poland – greater than quadruple the variety of individuals they supported with journey in 2020. More than half of these individuals travelled to the Netherlands, making up 52% of the overall they helped to go to the nation for abortions that 12 months, based on AWB. Official 2021 information from the Dutch authorities exhibits 651 individuals from Poland had abortions within the Netherlands, greater than double the variety of individuals in 2020. “Effectively, we took over all [of Poland’s] fetal anomaly cases,” stated Roszak. Numbers beforehand hovered round 1,000 instances a 12 months in Poland, based on authorities information. The community will get linked with individuals who want their assist by means of a course of like this: An individual with an undesirable being pregnant will first name a hotline in Poland, the place they've two choices, relying on how far alongside they're: take drugs or journey for a process. If they're lower than 12 weeks pregnant, they're despatched the abortion drugs mifepristone and misoprostol – authorised by the World Health Organization – to soak up the privateness of their very own dwelling. This is the case for almost all of the individuals who attain out to them, based on AWB information. However, for individuals whose pregnancies have already handed the 12-week mark, they are going to doubtless must journey to a clinic overseas. This can also be the case for these dwelling in different European international locations the place legal guidelines prohibit abortions after the primary trimester. For these individuals, the community faucets into its net of volunteers and activists who will work across the clock to rearrange appointments at clinics, translate documentation and supply monetary help to assist meet the price of the process and associated journey. Second trimester abortions could also be out there within the Netherlands however they're costly for non-Dutch residents, costing as much as 1,100 euros (roughly $1,100) for the surgical process which usually takes now not than 20 minutes. Counselling, preparation for the process and restoration nevertheless require the higher a part of a day. Depending on every particular person circumstance, help arrives in some ways and AWB could cowl all or a part of the prices, which may embrace flights, lodging, and dealing with appointments with the therapy middle immediately. Money is raised principally from non-public donations, based on activists inside the AWB community, however a number of the organizations inside it are supported by large donors. Without monetary help, abortion journey is particularly prohibitive for working-class individuals, migrants and others dwelling in poverty. Kinga Jelińska, Executive Director of the Amsterdam-based group Women Help Women – which can also be a part of AWB – advised CNN: “We return abortion back to common people, no matter the law, no matter the stigma, no matter the cost.” Second-trimester abortions represent a comparatively small proportion of the overall variety of formally recorded abortions in high-income international locations. The overwhelming majority are carried out within the first trimester. Those searching for second-trimester abortions accomplish that for plenty of causes, together with not having beforehand realized they have been pregnant; a change in private circumstances reminiscent of monetary difficulties or the breakdown of a relationship; sudden medical issues in themselves or the fetus, and trauma surrounding rape and sexual abuse instances, which can be a cause that one won't acknowledge the being pregnant till it's too late to entry an abortion of their nation.
“People sometimes think that it’s a matter of fundamental principles and beliefs. [But]we see day after day, people coming to us and saying… ‘I used to be against abortion, but my situation is different,’ Jelińska explained.”The choice whether or not to proceed the being pregnant or not, is extremely contextual.” At the Bloemenhove clinic in Haarlem, certainly one of two clinics within the nation that provide abortions previous 18 weeks, the parking zone seems “like the United Nations,” Roszak quipped, referencing the truth that automotive registration plates may be seen from throughout Europe. The clinic, a shiny and trendy area with a peaceable backyard space, treats roughly 15 individuals a day, 4 days per week, based on its director, Femke van Straaten. But the inflow of Polish sufferers has, van Straaten stated, led to a shift in the best way that her workforce works. Prior to the Polish courtroom ruling, greater than half of the sufferers at Bloemenhove have been Dutch and most got here to terminate undesirable pregnancies, van Straaten defined. As such, workers have been capable of advocate in-country aftercare, together with counseling sources. Now, with extra sufferers coming to the clinic from Poland with needed pregnancies (a lot of whom got here for terminations as a consequence of fetal abnormalities), they've “different needs for care,” stated van Straaten. One of the methods the clinic responded was to determine a memorial at a neighborhood cemetery for ladies to seek out some closure for his or her unviable pregnancies. “They couldn’t take their child back home, and they had no place for their grievance,” stated van Straaten, who helped set up the memorial final 12 months on the suggestion of the Polish abortion rights community. She added that memorial providers are additionally out there for individuals carrying viable fetuses who selected to terminate their pregnancies. As a part of this aftercare, sufferers can go for a cremation and are permitted to take the ashes dwelling. For those that can’t await cremation, the cemetery presents to scatter the ashes on the location, the place a metal tree has been erected and infants’ names are engraved onto a rainbow of leaves that cling on its branches. The “Little Stars Meadow,” a memorial area for individuals to grieve and discover closure on the Haarlem cemetery. Photo: Kara Fox/CNN Engraved “leaves” on the memorial tree. Van Straaten says her workforce determined to make use of the phrase “stillborns” for the terminated pregnancies – the closest phrase in English that they may discover – to assist individuals who needed their infants acknowledge their loss and transfer ahead.. Photo: Kara Fox/CNN Dr. Elles Garcia, an abortion care supplier at Bloemenhove since 2016, works to assuage issues that some individuals – significantly these from Poland – have about returning dwelling after their termination. “They often ask me the question: ‘What do I tell my gynaecologist? Can I tell them that I had a miscarriage?’ They’re so afraid of getting back to their doctor in their own country and to tell them the truth – they can’t,” she stated from one of many clinic’s session rooms. Garcia stated that whereas she assures sufferers that medically, their docs again at dwelling gained’t be capable to know whether or not they had a miscarriage or an abortion, she nonetheless encourages them to be trustworthy about what they went by means of, not just for themselves, however in hopes it would begin to break down societal taboos. “I tell them to say that you were here for an abortion, because here it’s legal – you can tell them the truth,” she stated, earlier than acknowledging, “but then they get afraid and anxious.” To assist individuals put together to return to a society the place abortion
is each restricted and taboo, the AWB Polish helpline has additionally expanded its remit to offer aftercare, together with psychological counseling for these in want. Back at their B&B, Arnoud and Marika are reflecting on the previous a number of years of offering hospitality to individuals at a tough time of their lives. Only round a 3rd of their company keep for 2 nights, they are saying, the bulk return to their international locations of origin straight from the clinic. And so the relationships are fleeting, however the septuagenarians know their influence may be profound. They see their job as being to hear and reassure. “People come from the room and ask: ‘Can we talk to each other?’ stated Arnoud, explaining that company typically collect round their eating room desk or sit of their backyard for a chat in the event that they keep the second evening. The couple say that whereas they have been by no means planning on changing into a hub for abortion journey once they first determined to open their enterprise, they'll’t think about their B&B in some other means. But not like most enterprise house owners, they are saying they relish the day when their enterprise would possibly go bust. “When the law changes in France, like we have in Holland, when the law changes in Poland, like we have here, it will be better – I will sing a song,” Arnoud stated. He seems to Marika and provides: “Our business is not important. It’s more important that women can decide for themselves … that’s the most important.” [ad_2] Source link
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Precise Guide to Buy A Quality Furniture Online – Do’s And Don’ts
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Browsing to buy furniture online? Hold on; there is a lot to consider before you make it real in order to avoid regret later. You might be super excited to add something new to your property that will undoubtedly boost your decor and make it more attractive. But, things are not that simple, and you may end up disappointed when you come across the fact of choosing inappropriate furniture without considering the experts’ advice.
Having perfect comfortable furniture is a dream of many, but if it turns into the wrong choice, it will become a nightmare. So, here is the precise guide available for you that will let you choose the best fit for your place from plenty of options.
Here are the top do’s and Don’t to consider while choosing the furniture online
No matter if you have browsed for Cheap Sofas in Ireland or anywhere, you have to be very practical before finalizing anything as you are going to invest in an almost lifetime product. Although, these universal tips of do’s will help you to make it easy:
Do’s For Online Furniture Shopping
Certain Purpose Behind Buying The Furniture
There is no point in buying furniture if you are unaware of your needs. We understand that a single piece of furniture can serve a number of benefits but evaluating your particular need from a certain kind of furniture will make your task much easier.
Stay Loyal With The True Measurement
It is very crucial to consider the true measurement that where you are going to install it should be a good fit for the product you have decided to purchase. When selecting furniture, it is essential to consider the size and measurements. To acquire the ideal furnishings, pay attention to the product’s size and shape. The precise measurements and sizes of your furniture make your home seem lovely and your furniture practical.
Don’ts for Online Furniture Shopping
Buying of Needless Pieces
Avoiding impulse purchases is the most crucial thing to consider during online shopping. No wonder you will find those aesthetic pictures of the product most attractive but do remember that there is no requirement to purchase it now, and you should focus on the priority items.
Attracts by “Buy One Get One” Offers
Some of the things that are difficult to sell will be labelled as “excellent value.” You should not just accept a discount. Check to see whether the certain dining set or anything else that gets offered corresponds to your home’s motif. Check the product’s color, size, and measurements. In a nutshell, get anything that meets your demands and matches your budget.
And if you are looking for quality online furniture, then give a pat to yourself as you have already made it here. Low Cost Furniture Direct is the perfect one-stop destination where you will find everything that boosts your interior and provides you comfort as well. Regardless you are searching for a double mattress, Bedroom Sets, bunk beds, besides lockers, anything, their array of best models and designs will never disappoint you.
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lyss-writes · 3 years
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Excelsior (Part 3)
[3/?]
Tom laced up his running shoes in the mudroom, pulling the laces tight. He needed a breather. A good run to really clear his head.
The fact that he was forty-two and living at home with his elderly parents was only a mild humiliation, in the grand scheme of things. The part that really stung was the fact that he couldn’t be trusted to live on his own anymore in the wake of The Shower Incident. The part that truly made him want to crawl headfirst into a hole and die was the fact that all of this was well-documented in Page Six and remained a perennial topic of conversation on the Internet. Well-meaning relatives (his mom’s sister, Ellen, in particular) kept forwarding along emails that linked out to tabloid hit pieces, and his mom, God bless her, really did try to hide it from him, but Tom had set up a Google Alert to pull in all of the media hits that mentioned him even in passing since he and Shiv hooked up four years ago, so that was pretty much a futile effort.
His mom poked her head out from the kitchen. “Tommy? Is that you?”
“Yeah, I was just heading out for a run.”
“Good, good. I just wanted to hear how the session went?”
“Aaah,” Tom said, grimacing. As soon as he came home after his appointment with Dr. Parfit, he’d gone straight upstairs to his old bedroom (which still looked, incredibly, just as it had in 1992. Not a single thing out of place. His Walkman was still there, and so was his stack of Billy Joel and Air Supply cassettes, his Boy Scout badges pinned to a corkboard over his old desk. Even the Kathy Ireland Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue cover was still safely tucked underneath his mattress, the torn page faded and a little wrinkled around the edges after almost thirty years of imperfect preservation, but it was still there, and more importantly, Kathy still looked good) under the pretense of needing a nap. Wasn’t it enough that he’d gone and done the therapy in the first place? Did he really need to rehash it right after? “Fine? It went fine.”
“Really?”
He looked at his mother. The concern she held in her eyes wasn’t new; in the months since The Incident, and the restraining order, and the day she drove out to Bloomington to discharge him from the facility, there had been a deep sadness there, a fear. A disappointment. “Really, Mommy. It was all right. Can I go for a run now?”
“Tommy,” she said. A hard look came across her face. “What happened in the waiting room?”
Oh, fuck. She knew. He didn’t know how she knew, but she knew, and he got the very uneasy feeling that he was on trial here and his own mother, Ann Marie Wambsgans, one of the most respected attorneys in the Twin Cities, wasn’t even handling his defense. “What do you mean, what happened?” Tom asked, frowning up at his mother. “It’s a waiting room, I waited.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” Tom lied.
“You flipped a magazine rack and knocked a ficus over.”
Tom winced. “Well….”
“And then I hear you’re not even taking your medication,” she said, and her eyes filled with sudden tears. “Are you trying to hurt us? Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Mommy....” He stood up from the mudroom bench, walked over and pulled his mother into his arms, pretending not to notice when she flinched at his touch.
“Because if you don’t, Tommy, I’ll have to call the facility, and they’ll come for you. And I can’t stop them.”
He pulled back from the hug, his arms falling away from her shoulders. “You wouldn’t do that,” Tom said, suspicious. But his mom just bit her lip, looked down at her feet. “Mommy. Why would you do that?”
“It’s not my decision,” she told him, “it’s up to the court. You know that. You know the conditions.”
He did know the conditions. It was all part of the plea deal that he’d struck with the team of lawyers in New York (only after his mother had taken a closer look at the terms, of course). If he pled guilty to the aggravated assault charge, and agreed to comply with the restraining order that Shiv’s lawyers slapped on him, then he could be eligible for psychiatric treatment and anger management training at an in-patient facility of his choosing (closer to home, which suddenly meant St. Paul, Minnesota, and not the Upper East Side) and commit to six months, minimum, of CBT with a court-appointed therapist, and full compliance with his doctors’ recommendations, then maybe—a long shot, but not totally out of the realm of possibility—he could ask Logan Roy for his job back at Waystar, and Shiv could let him come back home, and everything would be all right again. Those were the conditions. And they were easy conditions to agree to, when he was under duress and slightly hysterical, and, quote, “a danger to himself and others,” end quote, but now he was looking at the facts with a bit more clarity, and he saw himself medicated to the point of zombification and living in his parents’ house well into his fifties, bagging groceries at the Aldi in Highland Park, and suddenly the conditions didn’t make sense to him anymore, and he wanted out.
“Yeah, I know,” Tom said, and he could feel his blood pressure rising again, just like it had in Dr. Parfit’s waiting room. He tried to breathe nice and even through his nose with that bullshit box breathing technique he’d learned in the facility: breathe in four seconds, hold for four seconds, breathe out for four seconds, hold for four seconds. “But you have to understand, Mommy, I don’t like the way the drugs make me feel, all right? I’m so much clearer without them.”
“You flipped a magazine rack,” she repeated.
Tom huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Mom.”
“Hey, hey. What’s going on in here, huh?” Tom’s dad shuffled into the hallway from the living room, reading glasses pushed up onto his forehead. “The Vikings are on, for God’s sake.”
“He’s not taking his medication, Bill,” Tom’s mom informed her husband, still not looking at Tom.
“What do you mean, he’s not taking his medication? He knows the deal.”
“I’m going for a run,” Tom announced, backing up into the hall and out of the kitchen, away from the mess he’d just created. “Bye.”
“No, no, come on, you can’t just leave,” his dad called after him. “Didn’t you just hear me, Tommy? The Vikings are on, son. We’re looking at the playoffs!”
Tom let the screen door slam shut behind him and jogged down the porch steps, taking two at a time.
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straymackerel · 4 years
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ahh for the event, can i have #14 with dazai pwease? hehe thank you🥺💕✨
dazai + firgun || פירגון (hebrew, v.) to truly rejoice at the success of another.
➽─{yesyesyes more soft zai moments !!! that is,, after a bit of a trial,, here’s to celebrating small successes.}─❥
warning(s): reader angst, suggestive of depression
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Near the point of passing out, doing your absolute best to push through a sleepy stupor on a moonless night, your feet dragged along the pavement on your way home. The chill in the air seemed to bypass your clothes, managing to strike you at your very core, but you hardly noticed. Lethargy lived in your bones, took shelter in your muscles, after all. 
Today hadn’t been a particularly eventful day at all: no, the workload was moderate at best. But as the hours wore on, the unbearable weight of menial, everyday tasks seemed to drive a wedge between you and your sanity. It wasn’t just about staying awake, either; your mind was in a fog, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact inception of. Just when did you start feeling this way─start feeling like a walking, talking zombie? It could’ve been yesterday, or the day before that, or a week ago, or several. You tried not to think about it as you unlocked the front door of your boyfriend’s apartment, nearly falling to the ground when you took a single step inside.
He called your name cheerily on cue, all saccharine sweetness at your return home, and excessively so. In fact, his upbeat voice grated on your ears in all its sugary glory. You had little to respond with, half too tired to call back, half afraid of what might tumble out if you did. Yet your mind, in all its sluggishness, managed to wage war upon itself. It berated itself for its bitterness, its downright discourtesy towards such a benevolent boyfriend. It called you a million names and then some, cursing your ungratefulness. You should be running into his arms, thanking him for staying with someone as pathetic as you. Because that’s the way things ought to be when it comes to a hopeless mess like yourself. Isn’t that right?
And so as he rounded the corner, Dazai found you paralyzed in the hallway having barely made it indoors. One look at your face and he saw that you were deep in the pits of self-hatred, somewhere he’d spent much too long in himself. He rushed to your aid at once, brows furrowing as you collapsed straight into him. To you, it was like the very weight of the world went crashing into his shoulders.
“[Y/N],” he repeated, newfound concern in his voice, and that sharp twinge of guilt rose to your lips. “Are you okay?” He tested the waters only to find them all dried up.
“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, a hair above a whisper. “I’m fine, I just need to sleep it off.” Dazai’s hands dug into your sides when you tried to sidestep him, only to accomplish an ungraceful stumble over your own feet. 
“Oh, love. Come, now.” Dazai rose a deft hand to cup your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “What exactly are you hiding from me?” He asked as though he didn’t already know, and you blinked out the tears that leapt to your eyes in surprise. You wanted to run, you wanted to hide. Heat rushed to your nose as one, two, three teardrops dripped down your face, and with them the prickling in your eyes subsided, though the pain in your heart did not. 
“It’s just that─” Unable to control your voice, your words came out wobbly and hurried. A bandaged hand stroked your cheek as you drew a shaky breath, trying your best to piece a simple sentence together. “Things have been so, so…” He waited patiently as you tried to settle on a word that could encapsulate all of your struggles, but there was no such word. 
“...Difficult.” 
What you were unable to articulate with semantics, you expressed through your strain in tone. Not once did Dazai’s attention waver even when you paused to stabilize your breathing; you obviously had lots to say, and he was all ears. You leaned against him as the two of you began to walk down the hall, your mouth running on about how hard life had been as of late. You talked at length about the heaviness of it all, the pressures that bound you having converged upon you all at once. Every once in a while Dazai returned a nod or a small affirmation, but he mostly focused his efforts on just listening to you. With the exhaustion of grievances to spout off about came your arrival at the bedroom the two of you shared, its sudden appearance of much relief to you. You were set on the mattress with the utmost of delicacy, hardly bouncing back when laid down. He held you with care, as if you might break if lowered too fast.
“I’m sorry that I’m complaining so much,” you said sleepily, slumping back into your pillows. The aches that lingered within you were mostly physical, but shame is too insidious a seed. 
Your boyfriend shook his head with immediacy. “No, don’t apologize. Things have been rough. I understand, and I’m here for you now.” A smile crossed his face as he tucked you in, blanket to your chin. “You’re so, so strong, and I’m so, so proud of you.” 
You sniffled in response, using up the last of your strength to protest. “Proud?” you questioned, lips pursed. “Why?” You hadn’t the faintest idea of what he could be proud of.
“You woke up today,” he said matter-of-factly. “You got yourself up and out of bed, you put on clothes and walked out the front door. You do all of these things all the time, but that doesn’t make them any easier.” Dazai fixed a firm kiss to your forehead, eyes awash with light. If he could’ve seen himself, he would’ve sworn that that very light was you.
“You can pull through. I’ve seen you do it time and time again. No matter what happens, no matter how hard you fall, I believe in that,” he said, stopping only to pay you another kiss, this time to your lips. They loosened under his touch, having little choice but to accept him, but that was one thing you hadn’t the mind to complain about. You would remember that sorrowful night mostly by the warmth that spread across your lips and the words that followed soon after:
“I believe in you.”
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source(s):
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If you’re in crisis, there are free and confidential options available to help you cope.
24/7 USA National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255.
Lifeline Web Chat: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/
USA/Canada Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741. It is silent, it is private, you can use it anywhere discretely on your phone.
UK: Text 85258 || Ireland: Text 50808
List of international crisis lines:
http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines
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kazoo5480 · 3 years
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Almost finished! 30 chapters down, a few more to go. Thanks to those of you who wrote awesome notes, and who provide inspiration to us newbies every day with your lovely tales!
Chapter 1 Arrivals
Prologue – September 1943, New York City
25-year-old Killian Jones steps down the ramp off the Algernon straight from Belfast. He has $40 to his name, the clothes on his back. Having lost his brother in an accident, his mother to illness, and abandonment of his father when he was 7, Killian made a choice to leave his homeland and make his way to America. America was currently engaged in World War II, with no family left, he decides that a fresh start in a new land and a new line of work away from the IRA is just what he needs after the arrests and massacres taking place back in Ireland.
Gun running and violence is not a life he wants any longer, nor is a life in prison, or death. He is hopeful that despite his heritage, he will be able to settle into a new life, away from the massacre left behind on the emerald isle. Finding honest work is harder than he expected, even in a city this large.
Waiting in those long lines with all those other expats, hoping to find honest work and nothing. He goes every day for two weeks but quickly realizes that no one wants to hire an Irishman or give him a fair shake. But he believes you make your own destiny and believes in hard work and determination.
He hears the other men talking, that security and lounges, the US Army, and driving taxis are just about the only people hiring anyone right now if you aren’t American.
Killian has no interest in joining Americas crusade, so he finds a gig working the doors and security a little dingy nightclub at first, but slowly descends into the more glamorous nightclubs and lounges.
Word spreads quickly to his newest employer, Louis Lepke, who owns the Riobamba- one of Manhattan’s most posh nightclubs that Killian was once part of the IRA and has a hell of a left hook. Lepke, one of the most dangerous mob bosses in New York at that time sees potential in Killian, thinks that his past IRA ties could be beneficial to their enterprise, and he offers him a better paying job running pickups and drop offs of packages that Killian doesn’t open and doesn’t want to open.
While the money is nothing to turn your nose up at, Killian continues this path, socking away the cash and crafting an entirely new persona for himself while making his own contingency plans to disappear for a quieter life someplace near the sea, perhaps finding peace and burying his demons for good at last.
Killian will never forget the day he was able to move out of the vermin infested room he had been renting in a boarding house on the lower east side, and into a three-room apartment of his own for $80 a month near Washington Square Park. Not cheap by any means, but it’s a second-floor walkup, with a fireplace, and wide windows that overlook the street.
Lepke pays him three hundred a month right now, but he always earns tips from both ends of pickup and delivery, and that extra cash is always appreciated.
He will never forget the first suit he purchases, or his first pair of new shoes in god knows how many years. He knows with his new employment, he needs to look the part, so he only is careful in his wardrobe choices, dark colors that won’t show dirt easily, well-tailored shirts, wingtips in black and white, and two hats that he sees the other men wearing.
He manages to pry a floorboard in the back of his new closet loose, securing the hole with a thin layer of wood, ensuring nothing would fall through or be lost to the ageing building, and he uses this as home for his cash and very little valuables. He has no furniture to speak of, except a mattress on the floor with linens, but he knows soon enough he will have money to furnish his new home.
For now, he is only willing to spend money on rent, and groceries, he saves every dollar that he earns after his necessities are purchased.
What he does not expect is meeting Emma Swan, an enchanting blonde lounge singer at the Riobamba. Frank Sinatra even plays there on occasion, so the joint was always packed. But amongst all those entertainers, is Emma. With the voice of an angel, the body of a bloody goddess, and a fire in her green eyes.
He knows that from the moment he saw her dancing and singing across that smoke filled room, that he was going to have her no matter the cost. Tonight, her golden curls pinned back on one side with a glittering clip, wrapped in a floor length sequin dress cut scandalously low in the front, even for the nightclub scene at that point in time.
She is easily the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and he wonders if she works for Lepke as well, a personal relationship perhaps, and the thought of any man touching her at all has him see red when those thoughts flit through his mind. He always hopes divine intervention is on his side to catch a glimpse of her during her sets, whether picking up or dropping off to his boss.
Occasionally he just sits in the back nursing a rum while he watches her, gliding around the small stage, dressed like sex personified, singing in that angelic voice of hers, enchanting the entire room.
She sings songs of love and happiness, sometimes she covers popular music of other entertainers, but he sees the sadness and demons lingering behind those emerald eyes, the glittering dresses and gorgeous gold curls. He wants to know more, scale those walls he can spot a mile high surrounding her.
On more than one occasion he is thankful for the low lighting of the club and his dark suits to hide the evidence of his rock-hard arousal that she stirs up every damn time he lays eyes on her. Green eyes that sparkle in the low lighting, locking on his blue. She sees him and he sees her, never exchanging words, just eye locks and then he is off.
In a rare occasion that Killian indulges the other members of his crew in playing craps, he casually asks about Emma to one of the kinder men, Bill Starkey, a slightly older married man, who handles the books for the clubs that Lepke owns.
“What of that lounge singer Starkey, she is a sight for sore eyes if I may say so myself”, Killian mentions with a smile. The older man looks him over for a second, and replies “She is a quite a dame, isn’t she? Voice of a siren an everything, but she is not to be trifled with - She keeps to herself, is a bloody fantastic piece of entertainment, draws the crowds in, but she does not mess with our crew. Many of ours have learned that the hard way he says with a laugh, Tough as brass that one is, so don’t bother with her”, and the man went back to the game.
When Starkey bids goodnight, leaving the younger men to their games, another crew member that Killian has somewhat befriended named Victor Whale leans over, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “If its Emma you’ve set your sightings on, you are not as slick as you think ya git, my girl Ruby mentioned that she caught you watching her shows on occasion, but Emma doesn’t date anyone around here, if she does date, it isn’t anyone related to our line of work”.
Bidding goodnight to Killian and the few stragglers still playing, he stands and Killian notices Ruby Lucas in her coat waiting by the door with a smile on her face. Whale takes her hand and pulls them out the door. Killian feels a pang of jealousy at their obvious companionship but pushes the thought away.
Ruby Lucas, the costume coordinator for the club, is a gorgeous specimen of her own right with long chocolate locks, hazel eyes, and legs for days. She has worked in the club a long time, and if anyone knows Emma, its Ruby. Killian decides that perhaps he shall inquire to Ms. Lucas about Swan but tucks the thought away for another time.
He has gained enough information about her for one night, he will have to just be patient. If Ruby has noticed him watching Emma, he would bet the few dollars left in his lightened pocket tonight that she has told Swan about him, and that is something he is not quite sure he knows how to feel about.
He wonders what Ruby would tell Emma, since she was obviously very much with Whale, she must know more about their conducted business, but appears to know when to keep her mouth shut. Maybe, the tides will be in his favor since he tends to keep a low profile in his job. The bosses like him because he is discreet and is known not to be messed with.
Emma sees him alright, black suits, navy wool suits, tuxedoes at parties, custom made shirts, and she would bet her last dollar that those cufflinks he always wears are actual sterling silver.
He has slicked back inky hair, tousled in just the right places, a permanent five o’ clock shadow, and forget me not blue eyes that haunt her for days every single time she catches a glimpse of him staring right back at her. 
She notices the way he carries himself, so confident, dangerous, and definitely a hustler. He must be connected somehow, and Emma does not want that complication in her simple life.
He looks at her sometimes like he would devour her like a man on death row, and she being his last meal. She cannot get mixed up with someone like him, she has survived this long without someone, and the last time she allowed someone into her heart it nearly broke her in two.
Her friend Ruby has casually mentioned him, his name is Killian Jones, he works with her boyfriend Victor, but she does not know exactly what his role is. Ruby giggles as she talks about how handsome Killian is, and notes that he always throws her a generous tip, never ogling her or being disrespectful like some of the other crew who think that any woman in the club is dumb enough to roll in the sack with them.
Ruby has been with her boyfriend for a few years from what she mentions, having been together since before Victor’s job with Lepke’s crew, whatever that may be. Ruby is also one of the few people that makes Emma smile genuinely and lifts her spirits. Emma considers the brunette one of her very few real friends.
One night after her set is done, Emma enters her dressing room, and slips out of her dress, carefully hanging it inside the garment bag, and lights a cigarette, swallowing a sip of her Manhattan. Her roommate Mary Margaret is getting better and better with her sewing skills, her emerald green gown tonight is delicate, covered in sequins and green feathers float around the hem of her dress, she admires the gown once more before zipping the bag.
Standing in her silk stockings and garters, she begins removing her jewelry and realizes suddenly that she is not alone. Sitting in a low chair in the back corner of the dressing room is Killian fucking Jones. She grabs for her silk robe, tying it quickly- trying to regain some of her modesty. Watching her with those blue eyes, fingers crossed under his chin while he leans forward, elbows on his knees.
"Don't stop on my account love, I simply wanted to introduce myself, and I thank the bloody gods that I was granted enough luck to watch your private show just now. He smirked at her, running is tongue over his bottom lip, and she wanted to punch that smirk off his smug face, even if her heart beat faster in her chest and not from anxiety.
“Emma breathe,” she internally chastises herself. Her brain reconnects, she stamps out her cigarette, and she manages to spit out “listen pal, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I am not that type of woman. Go buy one down the street if you need to get your rocks off but get the hell out.”
He stood up, adjusting his trousers by the belt, which she noticed were fitting awfully tight, the evidence of his arousal clear but now covered as he buttoned his coat up.
He spoke, his voice a lilting Irish accent, “I apologize lass, I simply wanted to introduce myself and give you these in person,” he held out a large bouquet of creamy white roses tipped in pale pink, tied with a black silk ribbon. 
“You are a vision, both on and off the stage Swan, and I simply was hoping to make your acquaintance as we seem to catch each other’s eye from time to time. I thought perhaps my interest was reciprocated, but clearly it is not, and I shan't bother you again”.
Emma did not know what to say, still shocked, her red painted mouth in a grim line. She caught his cologne as he made his exit, carefully avoiding touching her in any way. He smelled of wood and spice, and definitely rum.
Right as he was crossing the threshold to exit, Emma made a rash decision, and grabbed his hand, locked eyes with him and said, “Don't ever do that again, thank you for the flowers, but I am not interested.” 
“They're nothing compared to you Emma, but I do apologize again”, and with that parting line Killian quietly exited, making sure to close the door fully behind him.
Emma locked the handle, ensuring no one else would interrupt her. She cleaned most of her face off and pulled on her burgundy wool dress and matching coat, gathered her things, and her flowers hailing a cab home.
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