#Clay Studio Coffee in the Garden

[sweetwriter]

Muse of a poet; muse of an artist

Geto x black fem reader

A/N: just a little idea I had in the shower

You and Geto make love to eachother in many different ways. Physically- all over the place: the bed, the kitchen counter, the shower- anywhere. But you guys make love to eachother in eachothers art work.

Geto has always worked with his hands. You met him in the philosophy 101. You guys were grouped up together and never let go of eachother since.

YN was in an debate with one of the other classmates over MLK- truthfully, she felt as if it was ridiculous to argue with someone on something they have a skewed idea of, but YN loves to fight.

He stumbled upon you at the library nose deep in Audre Lorde essays, he lowkey was a little nervous to come up to you, you were beautiful- just beautiful.

Closed his eyes and took a breath only to see, when he opened his eyes, you were already looking at him with a curious look. She sent a smile to Geto and he returned the look.

He asked her to coffee. You said yes.

Coffee dates lead to library dates which lead to dinners and then studio days

“How long do you want me to sit like this” she laughed to Geto. She’s completely still watching as her lover takes the wet clay and turn it into her likeness.

“Stay still beautiful, you look gorgeous just like this.”

There are days that Geto struggles like anyone- Geto hates critics, he wishes he could just create without the heaviness of his professors approval.

It was a rough critic, Professor Yaga wasn’t too excited to see the same character not fitting the rubric- safe to say- it was an argument leaving Geto drained by the time he enters the shared apartment.

he sees YN snuggled up to a book in the living room and makes a bee line towards her.

Hearing him through her headphones she makes room for him. He then lays he head on her lap.

“Read something to me” he whispers.

“Show thy face, for I desire the orchard and the rose-garden; ope thy lips,” YN bends down to his lips to capture them, “for I desire in plenty. O sun, show forth Thy face from the veil of cloud, For I desire that radiant glowing countenance” (Rumi).

YN rubs his hair as Geto drifts peacefully to sleep in the arms of his muse.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE ASK ABT JOBS SUGURU WOULD HAVE ,,,,,, i love thinking abt it thats my favorite subject EVA !!!! [thats a lie suguru as a whole is my favorite subject teehee :3]

ur SOOO right abt him being in law 2 help ppl ,,,,,, SO right w the idea of him walking around w a briefcase + slicked back ponytail + coffee GOHDDDD ok . okay . jobs I THINK suguru would have LETS GO !!

CERAMICIST - hed make these insane pots + sculptures n have showcases that r BOOKED like ,,, hes just so ,,,, pottery person 2 me,,,, n i feel like hed have a focus on using old pottery methods n keeping them alive in the modern day ,, like hes got some crazy intricate jomon pots, porcelain bowls + other kitchenware, n probs some bizen pots that he made dotted around his garden ,,,,, WAUGHHH I LOEV ART HISTORY

TATTOO ARTIST - ok . popular hc BUT STILL . hes worked his way up from being an apprentice in a huge shop -> owning his own lil studio pretty fast n hes GOOD . like hes got a rlly nice set of flashes that r colorful n playful but on himself hes probably got these super serious grayscale marbles and mythology plastered all over him [except for a family portrait mimiko + nanako made when they were like . 6 that he thought was so cute he got it tattooed on him] also i dont think hed b SUUPER in2 tattooing ppls names on other ppl or on himself, but maybe once u two have been dating for a LONGG while or r even almost a solid decade into marriage hed consider getting your name tatted somewhere hidden-but-not-really-hidden [womb tattoo, around the back of his ear, inner thigh]

MARINE BIOLOGIST - oHH MY GOHD OH MY GOHD OHHHHH MY GOHD i get super excited abt this cuz i wanna b a marine biologist SO BADDDDDD . its coming . TRUST !!!! anyway, he probably does some type of conservation bcuz . cmon . look at him . so he dives pretty often, like a weekly typa thing, BUT IMAGINE HIM IN THE SCUBA OUTFIT . he comes out sopping wet n hes probably rlly hot 4 a solid minute b4 the Stench hits u since ur both in an enclosed space and he smells like the underside of a dock.

CLASSICAL MUSICIAN - u know how i was talking abt how suguru would b a cellist ? yeah hed b a DAMN GOOD cellist like that man is principal cellist and hes so nice abt it 2 ,,, like he doesn't flaunt it and whenever someone in his section needs help w bowings or smthn else he gladly helps them !! he probably solos a ton on the tuba 2 ,,, like hes just SO GOOD at everything he picks up its insane

CONDUCTOR - same vein as the classical musician thing, he would b such a fine ass conductor ,,,,, like his facial expressions when the music gets intense and then it softens and hes swaying with the orchestra, hands gliding through the air ,,, also hed just b rlly good at keeping ppl in time and figuring out what each section was doing wrong.

oki thats my 2 cents on the whole thing ill get off my soapbox now dhhdhd :3

ASHLEY i’m finally getting to this…… these are all so bigbrained it’s crazy . AND I’M SO GLAD YOU SEE THE LAWYER!SUGU VISION <3333 he means the world 2 me….. silly little guy……

BUT WAHHH. CERAMIST SUGU THE LOML????? there’s this one stsg fic i rlly like where he’s a ceramics instructor and it …. changed me. as a person. AND I AGREE COMPLETELY the part abt him wanting to keep old art alive….. showcases constantly booked bc he’s just so skilled….. 😵‍💫 yeah. sugu as any kind of artist makes me insane. and him being good at pottery is just so…. weirdly attractive to me???? LIKE . him just having the most steady gentle hands…… teaching you how to mold the clay properly……… your back against his chest as he guides your hands . i need him so bad

AND . TATTOO ARTIST. yes it’s popular but it’s popular for a REASON (reason being: he is hot). HIM OWNING HIS OWN STUDIO and being so skilled….. the mythological tattoos + family portrait 🥺🥺 wahhh . he’s so sweet ashley…. i need him so bad…….. AND THE NAME THING …… i agree btw i feel like he would see tattoos as very . very very special. so getting your name inked into his skin so permanently might feel just as serious as a proposal to him 😭😭 i could see him doing it eventually tho ….. i agree w all the placements bUT. a part of me feels like . he’d get it tattooed somewhere on his chest … close to his heart….. :’3 sniffle. i could also see him getting a tiny heart you doodled onto his palm tattooed w/o you knowing and you’re just like ???? SUGURU??????? and he’s just. “i thought it was cute :)”…… sick sick man (affectionate) 😔😔

AND MARINE BIOLOGIST!SUGU ??? YOUR BRAINNNNN i remember you mentioning that in the sashisu college au too :33 him scuba diving!!!!! being constantly drenched and smelling of seasalt….. i’m of the firm belief that he was obsessed w marine biology as a kid so it just makes sense. I TRUST YOU BTWWW you’ll become a marine biologist for sure 🫡🫡🫡 pls let me pet the sharks once it happens . i would like to see them.

and finally ….. classical musician and conductor. CONDUCTOR!SUGU HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD BTW?? he would look so graceful and commanding and and and 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 just . him. swaying w the orchestra!!!!! he’s like a beautiful swan….. and ofc i love the idea of him being a musician too :3 it just makes sense. AND . HIM BEING A CELLIST. WHAT IF I CRYYYY he’d look so good playing it……

ashley your brain is actually so insanely big did you know that …… tysm for the food as always 🙏🙏 i am nomming him 2 death

[birdsex]

awhile back I dated this guy Jon who was very hot and very intense and his job was to make these clay fish that people would put in their gardens. just him alone in this studio in rural Maine making hundreds of fish. He lived next door, with this woman named Pony who was well into her 70s. She owned the house and the pottery studio, but she didn’t have anything to do with the fish. Pony taught private one-on-one tai chi lessons on the first floor of her house. The living space upstairs was filled to the brim with puppets and paintings and all sorts of art she had made, in that way that old ladies have too much stuff but it’s all very curated and intentional. jon started to show a lot of red flags, a weird power dynamic, subtle misogyny, dramatic shifts in emotion, obvious manic episodes where he would say and do wacky things. and it’s not even that I was blind to it, like it was clear things were pretty fucked up. I was confused and crying all the time. Sometimes I felt like I loved him. I very much loved sitting at Pony’s kitchen table while I waited for jon to finish up with the fish for the day. She and I would drink straight bourbon and she would tell me story after story, never letting my glass get empty. There were a few weeks she went through a sake phase. I loved learning about her life. I remember Jon often being pissed at how drunk I’d be by the time he came home. Pony would make us dinner and the three of us ate together, even the nights jon was silent and fuming. He’d get pissed at Pony too, but she was very much immune to it. After dinner Pony and her three little dogs would go to bed and Jon and I would go to his room and fight and fuck in this very hot and very intense way where the lines between love and hatred were entirely nonexistent. He’d say the meanest shit to me, but he’d always find his way back to being soft and caring at some point. In the morning we’d have coffee and oatmeal with sun butter. I’ve never fucked anyone else like that and I don’t want to ever again. I wonder if Pony thought anything of it. I wish I could sit at her kitchen table some more.

[theselfdoubtdiaries]

Dear Zoe – lots going on in my head at the moment (you may say always!)….and along with that – the butterflies in my stomach and the shortness of breath. You know the familiar feelings of anxiety ? Anyway, just trying to ride that out ...well what else can one do? Along with all the usual things that I know will help. Walking, writing and just pausing a while….hitting pause on the noise in my head is essential.

So, writing a blog post today is a useful exercise on so many levels!

Yesterday I finally got my hands into some clay (both the stuff in the garden AND the stuff in the studio!) Sometimes just making helps calm those jittery feelings …..I guess it’s the mindfulness of that making the fact that it needs my concentration – that’s the whole premise of the workshops that I’ve been running after all. So I guess I ought to practise what I preach.

The reality of course is that my brain is overflowing with all the things that I need to think about and do (on various fronts….home life, house, and family, garden project, and of course in the studio there are myriad projects as well – it’s not just one thing after all!)

I had a revelation in the garden yesterday as I was pottering around….I always think about the Competing Demands of life ….but maybe they are not so much in competition as I thought….? I have noticed of course the influences crossing over. The work in the yard /garden is all about the materials to hand. Stone, brick, remnants and shards, building rubble etc. And as you’ll have noticed these have found their way more and more into my work….As I was mocking up an arrangement outside my studio in the autumn light with the beautiful yellow leaves in the background it dawned on me that my art practise permeates ALL things that I do. Of course, as artists we never really stop do we? How could we switch off our curiosity and our way of seeing things in the world? It’s pretty obvious I know but it’s a revelation that let’s me off the hook from feeling guilt about now “making’ in a formal sense in the studio… I realise finally that I am always making!! eureka!

I showed you some of my impromptu and incidental installations in my garden/yard. I guess at the time I had thought of them as simply a bit of play….but of course...(and this is a quote I have pinned to my wall after all) The Play IS the work.

So here is a pic of one of these installations using found materials and exploring negative space and relations between things; alongside the usual themes I like to explore of ritual and memorialisation and the patina of the old! Architectural elements and voids….So now it sounds like Real Art right? With a capital A! Instead of just me mucking around in the yard! Go figure. Feeling better now (coffee and cake whilst writing in one of the places where I go when I simply cannot focus at home). That’s a good technique too. :)

These are my thoughts for the day...

F x

[passivenovember]

Harringrove April, Day Six.

Apple.

Believe (Part Two)

—

Steve left his legal pad on the counter, and over the next few days it became whatever they needed it to be. A hot pad, a place to set keys and coffee cups, stuck in the sway of their morning routines until tacky brown smudges had scrubbed away all of what they were afraid to touch.

It never crossed his mind that Billy had read it. Steve’s shoddy, frustrated list that ended with a neon sign pointing to the crack in his armor:

I can’t watch you fuck other guys, anymore, because I love you.

If Billy did read it he never said anything, and with the deadline for their spring collection right around the corner, the two dove headfirst into the night time routine that had been keeping them afloat since college.

All-nighters with Simon and Garfunkel spinning stories into the starry sky. Steve at the poetry wheel, Billy near the sink glazing what was cooled from their trip to the kiln, and countless cigarettes on the balcony while Chicago slept far below.

There’s wasn’t time to do anything else.

Steve couldn’t focus on being a human in love when there was the business and the orders and the collection of garden gnomes that had to be sent out on Monday.

He should’ve kept a better eye on it.

Turned the boil down to a simmer, because when they spent so much time in the studio together, running slap-happy on nicotine, apple pie gum, and greasy takeout, Billy got talkative.

“I read over your list,” Billy said on Friday night. The party was in full swing downstairs, bass vibrating the soles of Steve’s feet as he sat barefoot on the wheel.

“Yeah? We’ve gotta get the gnomes out. And I still need to get four vases done by the fifteenth. Ten mugs before—“

“Thats not the list I’m talking about,” Billy muttered, bent so close to the plate he was glazing that the fired clay swallowed his voice.

It didn’t matter. Steve wasn’t really listening.

He was exhausted. Focused in the way he only ever got when the handle of a vase had to be just as perfect and symmetrical at three am as it was in the daylight, and his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose but his hands were covered in clay, so Billy had to pad across the floor and use the pad of his thumb to push them gently back where they belonged.

“Thanks,” Steve said, “What list were you—“

“The one on the counter.” Billy said easily.

“Oh. That list.” Steve leaned back to measure the handle with his thumb. When it came up perfect he rinsed and dried his hands in the bowl next to his tools, peering at Billy through scratchy, tired eyes.

“You love me?” Billy asked.

Steve felt it rush through him, all he could lose and gain with the next words that came out of his mouth. “I don’t—“

“You don’t?” Billy demanded.

But, “No, I do,” Steve said, trying not to clock the way Billy’s shoulders relaxed, cheeks going rosy in the moonlight.

Billy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Maybe I’m not getting it. You love me in the ‘Billy, you’re my best friend and I don’t want you to get an STD from all these random hookups so I’m looking out for your health,’ kind of way, or the ‘I want to do all the shit we already do plus I want you to sleep in the same bed and kiss me with tongue and—“

Steve was going to break apart. “Listen, I just didn’t want to get in the way. Ruin the fun.”

Billy blinked those gorgeous, stupid blue eyes at him, still not understanding. “The fun?”

“With the guys. You seemed to be having a real good—“

“You we’re listening?”

“No, the walls are thin,” Steve shrugged, tossing the hand towel over his shoulder just for something to do. “And you’re vocal. And maybe I was listening.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Billy said, but he was grinning.

Blushing.

He took half a step closer, the knee of his patchwork jeans catching on the lip of the pottery wheel.

He was so beautiful.

So Steve said that, “You’re beautiful. And you make me laugh harder than anyone who’s ever lived. And you make the prefect pot of midnight coffee, and the blanket you put over my shoulders when I work through the night keeps me so warm sometimes I feel like I might catch on fire.”

“Steve—“

But Steve had opened the floodgates. So he stood, landing close enough to see Billy’s freckles that glinted like the distant stretch of a lighthouse, bringing him to dry land.

“I love you Billy,” Steve said. “You make me catch on fire.”

Billy’s tongue tasted like cigarettes and apple pie bubble gum.

Steve hadn’t been expecting that.

[oftenderweapons]

Mold Me New (6) — Taehyung

A Small Town Swoons Story

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Frog)

Wordcount: 3.7k

Genre: ceramic artist!Taehyung, divorced!reader, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, sliht angst, Slice of Life

Rating: suggested 18+ for future smut

Hello to my readers!!! Welcome to the Small Town Swoons Universe!🥰✨

In this episode: Frog and Taehyung are gettin closer and closer. As they both face their most vulnerable moments since they met, finding comfort in each other's arms.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: kissing, mild swearing, allusions to smut. Taehyung suffers from tendinitis in his hands after he worked too much. Frog talks about the end of her marriage and her approach to attraction, mentioning that she could be demisexual. About this specific point, the discussion is very short and doesn't focus on details, but THAT doesn't absolutely mean that demisexuality isn't a large and delicate topic that should be disucssed in depth, it only means that the character is growing in that direction and that she'll eventually educate herself more about that topic.

Once more I'm thanking Rid (aka @taegularities). We're in this soft sh!t together 🤍

In case you like my writing, here is my directory for idol!AUs, scenarios and imagines. And in case you need it, here’s the Spotify music companion.

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

Enjoy 💜✨

Entering the studio was mind blowing. It looked like a garden of statues.

Sitting on the floor was Taehyung, using his elbows and forearms to wedge a large body of clay.

“Tae?”

He looked at you standing in the doorway, smiling at you almost apologetically while you were entirely shocked.

“Why are you wedging with your elbows?”

“Tendinitis.” He still smiled like his fingers and palm didn’t feel shredded by thorns.

“For god’s sake, Tae!” You made your way to him, feeling like a cat trying to slalom through an endless field of obstacles. “Baby,” you murmured, crouching down next to him, tutting and fussing once you spotted how messed up he was.

He had clay in his hair, on his face, all over his apron. “Babe.”

“I wanted to create.”

You held his face in your hands, kissing his forehead over and over. “How long have you been here?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s five o’clock. Like all of our lessons,” you reminded him, wide eyed, shaking your head.

“I’ve been here since four.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled. “Tell me you mean four in the afternoon.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Of yesterday.”

Your face contorted in disappointment. “Get out of here!” You helped him up, clicking your tongue once you noticed he was barely able to hold himself up on his knees.

“I just stayed in the same position for too long,” he whined at your stern look.

“This cannot do, Taehyung,” you scolded him, before blocking his face, which was aiming at the crook of your neck. “No cuddles. We need to clean you up first.”

He pouted as you got rid of his apron quickly. “How aren’t you tired? Look at the floor! How can you even move in here, Taehyung!”

“Don’t call me by my full name, it scares me,” he objected, puppy eyed. “And your lesson?”

“We’re postponing that. Have you eaten at least?” You stared at the floor as you led him to the large sink.

He followed you as your hands held his hips. He liked how you touched him, and he loved how comfortable you looked doing so. Once he stood in front of the sink, you grabbed some soap and foamed it up, holding his hands and running them under the water, covering them in bubbles and getting a small groan out of him. “This will teach you a lesson,” you mumbled, intertwining your fingers with his and rubbing them together. “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head before leaning his head against your shoulder while you stood behind him. “It feels better with you.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back from placing a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s clean up your pretty face.”

Still, he tried to deepen the kiss, chasing you, hoping you’d let it slide. “You think I’m pretty?”

“You’re not just pretty. You’re scandalously good looking. You’re disgustingly perfect.”

He smiled and tried to turn. He wanted to plant his face against your chest and feel your digits massaging his scalp. He also wanted to feel you naked against his skin, but that was far from any sexual motive: he simply wanted warmth, closeness, affection. He wanted softness and intimacy. “Can we cuddle now?”

“You still have half a kilo of clay on your arms,” you replied as you took it off with gentle strokes of your palms, adding more soap to make sure no dirt was left.

“Can we cuddle after that?”

You nodded, nuzzling your nose into his hair. “We can do anything you want.”

He lowered his face to the faucet and cleaned it up, washing away the smear of dried up clay on his cheek.

“You should shower, darling,” you said, grabbing a paper towel and dabbing it against his wet face. “Or we could wash your hair.”

“Are you staying over?” He looked so hopeful, so entirely enamoured. You could barely resist him.

“I stayed over last week. I’d feel a bit out of place,” you replied shyly, trying not to feel conflicted. On one side, you felt like you were taking advantage of him, on the other you longed to caress his hair and kiss his nape until he fell asleep at your side. You also wanted to wake up with his hair tickling your chest as he gave you tiny kisses all over your neck and throat, exploiting the warmth and softness of that special spot for a gentle wake up call.

At the beginning you had worried about staying over on that first night, after dinner and… and the couch thingie. You slightly feared the thought that sharing a bed somehow meant pressuring each other into a type of intimacy neither of you was ready for. And then, a week after that fatidic rendezvous, he had asked for you to stay the night and sleep — just sleep — together. He had been extremely clear about his intentions, declaring them after dinner as you were lounging on the sofa once more. You had watched a film, made out, calmed down, washed up and headed to bed, where he had clung to you until his breathing turned into a delicate huffing sound.

You had barely resisted tears once you noticed he tended to pucker his lips in his sleep, his cheeks becoming fluffier and rounder. He had an adorable baby face.

“What if I wanted you to stay, though?” Taehyung murmured, giving you a dubious look. As he noticed you hesitating, he added: “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to stay. It would be on the same terms as last time. I’m not pressuring you or anything I—”

Finally you gave up. Maybe his presence would help you. “Okay.”

He grinned, “I should shower then.”

“You want me to cook something as you wash up?”

His eyes got wide and glittery before he kissed your cheek. “Yes, please.”

“What should I make?”

“I like anything in the fridge. Do as you please,” he replied before you moved your head in confirmation.

Once in the house, you headed for the kitchen while he immediately hit the shower. He wanted to be away from you as little as possible. Most activities were painful, like grabbing bottles and massaging his scalp and basically anything that required him to grip and strain his hand muscles and tendons. At a certain point he entirely gave up on his hair, washing his body and getting out of the shower, drying up and wearing a pair of boxers and loose pyjama pants.

“Frog?” he called from the door.

“I made bruschetta! Bread, sliced cherry tomatoes, it’s in the oven,” you answered.

“Can you come here?”

You quickly lowered the oven temperature and reached him.

You inhaled brusquely once you noticed his lean, smooth torso naked, little droplets of water still glistening here and there. “Could you wash my hair? I can’t really use my fingers much.”

You nodded silently, inhaling as you took in his chest. He looked so beautiful, his chest lithe and well-built, his tummy holding a millimetric curve, flat but not muscled. You liked it a lot.

“Shall we?”

Silently you followed him, watching as he bent down over the sink and opened the tap to further wet his hair. You noticed the bottle of shampoo and squeezed a small amount on your palm, watering it down and beginning to energetically scrub his scalp. “This okay?”

Taehyung hummed in reply, turning his head to the side a little to offer you a better angle. “Very okay. Actually, fine. Ideal.”

You smiled.

It took you a bit more time than you thought, mostly because you were a bit distracted. “Are you sleepy, sweetheart?” you asked once you managed to finish, helping him stand up straight and drying his hair haphazardly with a towel.

“I’m so caffeinated I can barely think straight,” he murmured, purring once he noticed the way you were still looking at him. “Frog. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He cupped the back of your head before he leaned to your face, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and forcing you to unseal yours, his tongue sliding in sinuously, his other arm pinning you to him. “Like you really want me to do this.”

Once your back hit the wall, his warm body contrasting with the cold tiles against your spine, you realised you needed to slow down. “Tae. Dinner,” you reminded him.

“Sure,” he unglued you from the tiles. “Do you even want me to put a shirt on?”

You shook your head and smirked. “You sure are a smooth mess.” His eyelashes looked magical from this up close. After almost three months of knowing him, you still wondered how he could be so absolutely perfect, and so real.

“Is that a yes or a no?” He cocked an eyebrow, adding a mischievous grin on his face.

“It’s definitely a yes, you tease!”

After dinner you decided to go for your usual shenanigans and headed for the living room, finding yourself a little dumbstruck when you noticed a large sculpture on the coffee table, which had been moved out of the way and to a dry and cool place. The structure was as large as your upper half and, as you switched on the lights you recognised exactly what it was. The torso was still drying, as the colour showed, and for a second you asked yourself how it would ever dry. It would of course hold water in its core, causing the structure to fail and break. And then, it would never fit in his kiln.

“You like it?”

You turned towards Taehyung. “What material is it?”

“Modelling dough. It’s made for large structures. It dries in a couple hours.There are about ten layers latched on a metallic structure. It’s modelled after you.”

Your eyes widened. “Is that why your hands have been acting up?”

He looked away in a manner that told you that yes, that was the very reason.

“Do you have a balm or something?” you asked, trying to fix the mess he made.

He left the room and came back with a glass jar. “Arnica gel smells very bad but works fine.”

You took your place on the sofa, patting the spot at your side to invite him there. He joined you in a nanosecond, placing the jar on your lap. Methodically, entirely caught in your thoughts, you opened the lid, got some lotion on his palm and began rubbing the pressure points on his palm before turning to the back of it and tracing the tendons energetically.

His relieved groan echoed into the room before he let his head fall on the back of the sofa.

The massage went on for a bit, the motions so mechanical that your mind started to wander until you eventually said your thoughts out loud.

Having him to assist had calmed you down enough that you felt ready to reflect over your worries.

“Today is my wedding anniversary. Or it was.” You kept staring at your digits digging into his flesh. “I don’t really know how I should talk about it.”

Taehyung, though looking like a lazy feline, was actually paying close attention to your words. “How was it, being married?”

You shook your head. “At the beginning there was a lot of emotion and companionship. And then life carried us away from each other. Like two leaves scattered in different directions by the wind.” Your explanation was something that had become a truth to you: at the beginning you had tortured yourself with understanding why and how it had happened. And then you had accepted the blatant way of things: separation.

“Are you scared of it happening again? That companionship to separation process?”

You shrugged. “Not really. If people drift apart, then maybe it’s because they were meant to be together for a while before they could venture towards different destinations.”

Taehyung moved closer to your neck, to get impossibly nearer. If he could, he would have crawled underneath your skin, to inhabit you like a squirrel does a tree. He wanted to build his nest in your heart and sing all his favourite songs to you, and from you he would never, ever part.

He knew he was letting himself romanticise the affection and comfort he felt for you, however, he couldn’t find anything that made him disappointed with you, or that annoyed him. There were small things here and there that made him question your approach to life, but your grounded self was the kind of roots he needed to drift in the wind and let everything surprise and amaze him.

You were his anchor and he was so infinitely glad to have met you.

“How do you feel about the whole marriage thing? Do you still believe in it?” His voice was incredibly velvety, like a mother’s caress, a lover’s glance.

You pondered your emotions and sensations. “I believe I do. I mean, it’s not like I think I failed something or love is a lie and all of that. I’m just trying to understand the… the ground rules—” You took a pause, trying to explain yourself. “Like, the foreword, you know?”

He listened and let you talk.

“What makes a couple fit for marriage? And then, what is marriage? I need it to be more than just a bunch of paperwork and legal duties. But maybe it’s just that.”

Taehyung rubbed his naked foot against yours. His feet were freezing. Plus it felt funny to test the smoothness of your calf with the sole. He wished the two of you could cuddle under the sheets, talk until the larks would start singing and thin rays of premature sunshine would start lighting up the dawn and stream into the room, colouring your face with a greyish halo before it turned pink, and then orange and then deep red for the briefest minute until bright yellow settled in.

He wanted to study the colours of you bathed in any type of light, any shade and palette that would come with the passing hours.

“I think I want more than paperwork and formalities too. It's a promise after all. You're officially telling your beloved that you will be by their side forever.”

“As someone who betrayed that promise, I don't think I can see it from that point of view anymore.” You exhaled before he placed an arm around you, almost sitting on your lap as he offered you his untreated hand.

He frowned. “It’s not like you betrayed it. You honoured it. It might say ‘till death do us part’ and all of that, but the biggest promise is to be at each other’s side, to find happiness and support and comfort in each other. You realised you couldn’t hold on to each other anymore and you let go.” He kissed your cheek. “Your right to happiness is way greater than a promise neither of you wanted to keep anymore.”

You found refuge in his hair, sniffing it gently before letting your eyelids lower. “I’m afraid I’ll break future promises, too. Sometimes I ask myself how I could keep one.” You felt incredibly calm as he started delivering gentle pecks from your temple to your ear to your jaw, the sound of his lips disclosing in quiet pops slipping into silence as he lost the excuse of kisses and started simply skimming your skin with the smooth petals of his mouth.

“You will not be alone keeping it.” He drew a line with his nose, from your cupid’s bow to the middle of your forehead, where he placed one final kiss. “It’s a shared responsibility. You won’t need to go all the way. The right one will meet you halfway, and they will be willing to go a bit farther on the days you can’t reach, just like you’ll be willing to take a few more steps on the days they’re not feeling good. It’s a compromise, and the border moves and melts.” He hummed as you kneaded the base of his thumb between your own thumb and index. “At least that’s the way I like to imagine it.”

You would meet him halfway. And you would reach for him, on days like this, when you need him and he needs you. And you would walk a bit more when he’s tired and worried and afraid, just like you knew he would come for you.

“I think it really works for friends too,” Taehyung mused. He looked at you. He wanted to meet you halfway, and renovate that promise day after day after day. One day at the time, as long as you loved him. And then he would let you go, not without trying to fix the distance between the two of you. “Sometimes the difference between lovers and friends confuses me.”

You looked at him and blinked. “Well, I would never do anything sexual with a friend. I would with a lover, though.”

He nodded and hummed as he reflected. “So I should call you my lover?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Sure, if you’d like to.”

“I’d love to.”

You smiled, a tiny chuckle parting from your lips.

“Once you said you don’t feel attracted to just anyone. What is it that makes you feel attracted to me?” Taehyung asked, genuinely curious.

You gave a small laugh. “You know all about me meeting my husband when I was a kid, growing up together, being with him, only him until we divorced and then some.”

He nodded.

“I think that made me used to being extremely close to my partner before being capable of perceiving any type of attraction. And even when I was with him, I didn’t ever think about anyone else. All people were just—” you thought about the right word. “They were only human beings to me. I couldn’t see them as somebody I could be attracted to, especially since I never got to know anyone as much as I know Terry and him. I think you’re the first one I want to explore.” You let go of his hand.

“Thank you,” he murmured before letting his back fall against the pillows, laying down and dragging you with him so you were resting on your side, your legs tangled up with his before you found your spot flushed against his side, his chest pillowing your head and your leg thrown over his hip. He wanted to comb your hair but he didn’t want to mess it up with the balm, so he decided he could simply draw circles against your arm. “What do you mean with ‘exploring’?”

You yawned as you felt relaxation wash over you. “I mean I want to take my time to get to know you. I’ve read somewhere that people who only feel attraction for those they have an emotional bond with are called demisexual. And somehow I feel I could identify myself with that, but I think I still have too many open questions to feel like I fully belong to that category.”

Taehyung felt blessed he could listen to your thoughts out loud. They felt so precious to him, like they could give him a way to understand you better. And the more he understood you, the deeper he fell for you. “You’re still so young, you have all the time in the world. Maybe you could talk to a therapist, or find some support through online forums. You know you have my full support.”

You softened and furtherly cosied up in his arms. “Thank you so much, Tae.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You felt his voice sweeten with joy and gratitude. “We take care of each other.”

He had become your solace, your reprieve, your second chance at happiness. Hopefully, your definitive one too.

You calmed down, trying not to rush things through, reminding yourself this had been the strongest, most unreasonable form of enamourment you could have ever thought of; nevertheless, you couldn’t deny the sudden lightness and warmth and fondness that invaded you whenever he peeked into your thoughts or appeared in your sight.

“However, yes, I feel attracted to you because I’m emotionally attached to you. I don’t know what this will become, or if it will evolve into deeper feelings, but it feels good to be your friend. And to be your lover too,” you continued delicately, trying to play it cool. “I just don’t know how long this sense of attraction will last — you know, because of this being an actual first time and me being afraid of making promises and not keeping them. For now I only know I want to know you deeper. And I want to be your lover.”

Fear crawled into his veins but he let the present reassurance comfort him. “It’s okay. It’s not like I’m experienced. We’ll just let ourselves feel whatever comes our way. The only promise I need you to give me is that you’ll allow yourself to feel everything life will give you, without being afraid.”

You stretched to press a kiss to his lips. “Okay. Can I count on you to meet me halfway?”

He nodded. “As a friend, as a lover, as anything you allow me to be.”

You kissed him again, your body relaxing even more. You couldn’t hold back another yawn.

“Let’s get you to bed. I don’t want you to fall asleep on the couch.” He traced your profile with the tip of his pinky. “Come on.”

As you laid in bed, your legs tangled together, you caressed his hair, watching his eyelashes fan against his cheekbones.

“I hate that my hands hurt. I wish I could touch you more.” He turned to fit his back against your front, your hand meeting his chest and feeling his calm heartbeat.

“Did you really shape that sculpture after me?”

You noticed him nodding. “I could still feel you under my fingers. It was torture to lay in this bed without you.”

You kissed his nape. “Good thing I’m here now.”

“You make it so much better, darling.” His voice was reaching that depth that fit night-time pillow talk so perfectly.

You thought about how your life had changed since he came into it. “You make it better too, Tae.”

Taglist is open

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

[sensei-aishitemasu]

2019 Black-Owned Gift Guide!

It’s that time again! This Black Friday, try and support a Black-owned business for all your gift-giving needs. For last years gift guide, click here. For the 2017 gift guide, here. For the 2016 gift guide, click here. For the 2015 gift guide, click here. (This is the FIFTH annual gift guide! Time flies!) 

Similar to 2018, I kept every individual item listed under $100! Click on the links to be taken to the websites in order to peruse more yourselves. Every item and brand has been hand selected and curated. Sustainability has been increasingly on my mind, especially when it comes to fashion; as such, several brands on this list are ethically and sustainably sourced. Several also include donations from your purchase being made to philanthropic causes. 

[And as always, this guide has been split into categories to make it easier to get through, but feel free to mix and match for the person in your life that fits all of (or none of!) these categories!]

Gift Guide 2019 Items

For the Homebody:

eLo ‘Gloria’ Cotton Spray, $30

Shea Shea Bakery Candy Cane Candle, $22

Shea Shea Bakery Coffe Mug Candle, $12

Shea Shea Bakery Bowl of O’s Signature Candle, $20 

Shea Shea Bakery Milk & Cookies Bath Set, $16

Shea Shea Bakery Bath Whip - Confetti Cake, $12

Shea Shea Bakery Honey Bear Bubble Bath, $6

Shea Shea Bakery Milk Mates - Salts + Bubble Bath, $16

Shea Shea Bakery Milk + Honey + Syrup Bubble Bath Set, $22

Shea Shea Bakery Cast Iron Skillet Wax Burner, $22

Shea Shea Bakery Sweet Mini-Melt Cinnamon Bun Wax, $10

Shea Shea Bakery Sweet Mini-Melt Peanut Butter Cups, $10

228 Grant Street Candle Co. Amber + Sandalwood Apothecary Jar, $30 (pictured)

228 Grant Street Candle Co. Oakmoss + Amber Jar, $20

228 Grant Street Candle Co. Botanical Garden Gold Travel Tin, $10 

Kicky Mats ‘Don’t Bother, We’re Broke’ Doormat, $50 (pictured)

Jeffrey Manning “You Are” Art Print, $55

Jeffrey Manning “Mellow Bliss” Art Print, $40

Duchess 365 ‘When I Get Home’ Art Print, $23.99 (pictured)

Tactile Matter ‘Safe Space’ Art Print, $45 (pictured)

Tactile Matter ‘Peaches & Coffee’ Art Print, $45

Galerie.la Small Market Basket, $28

Galerie.la Botanica Medium Candle Harvest, $24

Galerie.la Relaxation Rituals Box, $44.95

Galerie.la Botanica Large Candle Nirvana, $32

Galerie.la Rooted Incense Holder In Gray, $68

Galeria.la Calma Herbal Salt Soaks, $20

‘Hypnotic’ Quilt Set by Justina Blakeney, $100 (pictured)

Brass Bette Planter by Justina Blakeney, $ 75

Ida Mirror by Justina Blakeney, $70

Kahelo Black and Gray Rug by Justina Blakeney, $89

Kashmir.VIII ‘The Party’ Pillow, $50 (pictured)

Cards For All People “Angry Moms” Card Game, $17.99

Cards For All People “Black Card Revoked” Card Game, $17.99 (pictured)

Trading Races Card Game, $24.99 (pictured)

Winsults Card Game, $25 (pictured)

For the Foodie:

Zach & Zoe Wildflower Honey, $12  Zach & Zoe Wildflower Honey - Lavender, $15

Zach & Zoe Wildflower Honey - Raspberry, $15 (pictured)

Zach & Zoe Honey with Ginger Root, $15

Soul Fit Grill Assorted Spices, $55.99 (pictured)

Raw Cells Mind Fudge, $15 (pictured)

Raw Cells Calm Cookie, $8

Raw Cells Brain Brownie, $5

Raw Cells Bliss Bar, $7 (pictured)

Chris Cardi ‘H Street’ Apron, $25.03

Cultured Kombucha ‘Flight Glass’ Set of 4, $35 (pictured)

Cultured Kombucha ‘Cultured’ Tote, $15 (pictured)

Kashmir.VIII ‘Ms. Hill’ Mug, $16

Kashmir.VIII ‘Easin’ Mug, $16

Kashmir.VIII ‘We Did It First’ Mug, $16 (pictured)

Kashmir.VIII ‘The Black Power Mixtape’ Coaster Sets, $35 (pictured)

Botanicals on Blush Kitchen Tea Towels by Justina Blakeney, $28 (pictured)

‘B. Smith Cooks Southern-Style’ by B. Smith, $29.99

For the Beauty Guru:

Oui The People ‘The Single’ Rose Gold Single-Blade Razor, $75 (pictured)

Oui The People ‘Sugarcoat’ Shave Gel-To-Milk, $64 (pictured)

Galerie.la Rose Quartz Facial Roller, $28

Galerie.la Jade Mask, $42

Galerie.la Base Coat Nail Polish Vault, $20

Galerie.la Base Coat Nail Polish The Simon Collective, $20

Galerie.la ‘The Makeup Bag’ (Navy), $59

Galerie.la ‘The Makeup Bag’ (Yellow), $59

Galerie.la Mermaid Milk Superfood Moisturizer, $42

Shea Shea Bakery Buttered Pound Cake Body Mist, $5 (pictured)

Shea Shea Bakery Glazed Donut Body Butter, $25

Shea Shea Bakery Detoxifying Charcoal Cleanser, $15

Shea Shea Bakery Antibacterial Apple Cider Toner, $6

Shea Shea Bakery Almond Milk + Chocolate Peppermint Moisturizer, $6

Shea Shea Bakery Scar Healing Serum, $23

Shea Shea Bakery Gentle Foaming Cleanser, $8

Shea Shea Bakery Chocolate Coffee Bean Scrub, $12

Shea Shea Bakery Rose Garden Soap Bar, $5 (pictured)

Monie Squared Pumpkin Spice Cheesecake Soap, $8

Monie Squared Brown Sugar Fig Goat Milk Soap, $7

Monie Squared Warm Vanilla Sugar Goat Milk Soap, $7

Monie Squared Leave-In Detangling Conditioner in Blood Orange, $16

Camille Rose Naturals Algae Renew Deep Conditioner, $20

Camille Rose Youth Burst Anti-Aging Night Time Elixir, $18 (pictured)

Camille Rose Seedless Skin Pore-Perfecting Facial Exfoliator, $19

Oyin Handmade Burnt Sugar Pomade, $13.99

Oyin Handmade Boing! All-In-One Coil Styler, $14.99

Oyin Handmade No Ash At All Lotion, $9.99

Hunny Bunny Boutique Hunny Lavender Face Bar, $9

Hunny Bunny Boutique Rose Clay Facial Mask, $8

Bejia Flor Naturals Acai Mango Lotion, $22

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Seven’ Aromatherapy Roller, $18

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Mellow’ Aromatherapy Roller, $18

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Faith’ Aromatherapy Roller, $18

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Tisane’ Body + Bath Oil, $25

Jade & Fox Co. Liquid Gold Facial Cleanser, $15 (pictured)

Jade & Fox Co. Neptune Hyaluronic Face Mist, $15

Jade & Fox Co. Flower Power Toner, $18 (pictured)

Jade & Fox Co. Fineapple Face Mask, $22

Jade & Fox Co. Maui Wowie Serum, $17 (pictured)

Jade & Fox Co. Angel Eyes Under Eye Cream, $24

Jade & Fox Co. Crushed Velvet Butter, $26

Jade & Fox Co. Honeysuckle Spray, $14

Jade & Fox Co. Lust Oil, $15

Jade & Fox Co. Crush Body Oil, $17

Jade & Fox Co. Vixen Oil, $15

Jade & Fox Co. ‘Show Girl’ Body Oil, $17

Jade & Fox Co. Siren Highlighter, $18 (pictured)

Makeup/Beauty/Hair Brands:

Plain Jane Beauty (pictured)

Mented Cosmetics (pictured) 

Beauty Bakerie 

Bovanti Cosmetics 

Colour U Cosmetics

Hue Noir 

Gold Label Cosmetics 

Lamik Beauty

Lip Addyct 

Magnolia Makeup 

Lotus Moon Skincare

The Lip Bar (pictured)

Ginger + Liz Nail Polish

Foxie Cosmetics

Blac Minerals Cosmetics (pictured)

Danessa Lyrics Beauty

Lena Lashes

AJ Crimson Beauty

KSquared Nail Paint

Kinky Curly Yaki

Heat Free Hair Movement

Big Chop Hair

Princess Hair Shop

Haute Kinky Hair

Private Stock Kair

Catface Hair

Mischo Beauty (pictured)

Brown Butter Beauty (pictured)

Her Muse Studio

Elo Lipcare (pictured)

Glam Goth Beauty (pictured)

For The Fashion Conscious:

Galerie.la Abbot Corduroy Knit Robe Berry, $98

Galerie.la Denim Crop Bra, $35

Galerie.la Golden Organic Cotton Crop Bra, $35 (pictured)

Galerie.la Recycled Cotton Baby Tee Black, $39

Galerie.la Alicia Crossbody Brown Bag, $85 (pictured)

Galerie.la Stacking Rings Brass, $25 (pictured)

Galerie.la Diamond Stacking Ring, $25

Galerie.la Petite Arch Earrings Brass, $34

Galerie.la Thelma Top Mauve, $48

Galerie.la Silver Hashtag Earrings, $58

Galerie.la Cascade Dress Charcoal, $59

Galerie.la Petra Jumpsuit Charcoal, $65 (pictured)

Galerie.la Sabbath Cocoon Tunic, $98

Galerie.la Flap Wallet Mustard, $79

Galerie.la Zipper Wallet Blush, $69

Glam Goth ‘Goon’ Beanie (red), $25

Glam Goth ‘Goon’ Beanie (black), $25

Glam Goth ‘Goth’ Cap, $30 (pictured)

Glam Goth ‘The Young Angel’ T-Shirt, $20

Instant Vintage - Azul by Giancarlo Bolero, $55

Instant Vintage - Merlot Veiled Hat, $30

Instant Vintage - Turquoise Velvet Bow with Headband, $45

Instant Vintage - Sweetheart Floral Dress, $48 (pictured)

Sir and Madame Striped Wool Split Back Shirt, $75

Sir and Madame Logo T-Shirt, $40

Sir and Madame 'Madame’ Cropped Tank, $28

Sir and Madame 70′s Script T-Shirt, $45

Sir and Madame “A Better Tomorrow” T-Shirt, $40

Sir and Madame Red Wing Engineer Boot, $75

Sir and Madame Jungle Camo Woven Shirt, $45

A Life Well Dressed ‘Artsy’ Statement Cap, $16 (pictured)

A Life Well Dressed ‘Create’ Statement T-Shirt, $20

Gregory Sylvia ‘Farrah’ Watch, $95

Gregory Sylvia ‘Chandler’ Watch, $78 (pictured)

Gregory Sylvia ‘Rosen’ Watch, $105 (slightly over budget but a beautiful watch!)

Gregory Sylvia ‘Crimson Crave’ Wallet, $69

Tree Fairfax Lois Belt, $40

Tree Fairfax Distressed Wrap Clutch/Wallet, $54

Chris Cardi ‘H St. Nostalgia’ Tee, $30.03

Chris Cardi ‘Bastards’ Tee, $30.03

Sole Rebels ‘The Surge’ Shoe, $90

Sole Rebels ‘The Exodus Ahhh’ Shoe, $100

Sole Rebels ‘The StepUP’ Shoe, $95

Sole Rebels ‘The Exodus RIFF’ Shoe, $100 (pictured)

Sole Rebels ‘TooTOOS Holees’ Shoe, $85

Enbois ‘Jafari’ Watch (Zebra), $85

For the Bookworm:

‘The Water Dancer’ by Ta-Nehisi Coates, $28 (pictured)

‘Deathless Divide by Justina Ireland, $18.99 (pictured)

‘Black Talk: Words and Phrases from the Hood to the Amen Corner’ by Geneva Smitherman, $6.38 (pictured)

‘Talkin and Testifyin: The Language of Black America’ by Geneva Smitherman, $7.77 (pictured)

‘White Negroes: When Cornrows Were in Vogue ... and Other Thoughts on Cultural Appropriation’ by Lauren Michele Jackson, $23.49

‘Mules and Men’ by Zora Neale Hurston, $15.99 (pictured)

‘The Black Book’ edited by Toni Morrison, $35

‘Bloodchild and Other Stories’ by Octavia Butler, $14

‘Rebel’ by Beverly Jenkins, $7.99

‘B. Smith: Rituals & Celebrations’ by B. Smith, $35 (pictured)

Rayo & Honey ‘Eat Words, Drink Stars’ Pin, $12 (pictured)

Rayo & Honey ‘Read More, Writer Better’ Banner, $50 (pictured)

Rayo & Honey ‘Books Change Your Mind’ Banner, $55

Rayo & Honey ‘Hundreds of Books Under My Skin’ Bookmark, $8 (pictured)

For the Kids:

Yinibini Baby ‘Trunk of Hearts’ Elephant One-Piece, $29.50

Yinibini Baby ‘My Neighborhood in DC’ Tee, $26.00 (pictured)

Jade & Fox Co. Fantasy Body Lotion for Babies, $16

Duchess365 Framed Art Print [Ladybug], $57.99

Duchess365 Throw Pillow [Lollipop], $29.99 (pictured)

Duchess365 Framed Art Pillow, $47.99 (pictured)

Herbaceutikals Talc Free Baby Organic Baby Powder, $14.25 (pictured)

‘Party, A Mystery’ by Jamaica Kincaid, $17.95 (pictured)

‘The Last Last-Day-of-Summer’ by Lamar Giles, $8.49

‘Puppy Truck’ by Brian Pinkney, $11.38 (pictured)

‘Libba: The Magnificent Musical Life of Elizabeth Cotten)’ by Laura Veirs, $17.99

‘Little Melba and Her Big Trombone’ by Katheryn Russell-Brown, $18.95 (pictured)

Vee + Co. Apothecary ‘Mamatoto’ Aromatherapy Roller, $12

KaAn’s Designs ‘Living The Dream’ Denim Jacket, $40 (pictured)

Sir & Madame ‘Sir’ Kids Pullover, $55

Amina Abdul Jillil Kids Velvet Sneaker, $89 (pictured)

For the Masculine:

Gregory Sylvia ‘Durham’ Watch, $78 (pictured)

Gregory Sylvia ‘Grayson’ Watch, $95

Gregory Sylvia ‘Fullerton’ Watch, $95.00

A Life Well Dressed ‘Create’ Sweater, $34

A Life Well Dressed ‘District of Champions’ Sweater, $48

Sir & Madame Scratch Goods Beard Oil, $24 (pictured)

Sir & Madame ‘Sir’ Shirt (Blue), $40 (pictured)

Sir & Madame ‘Sir Shirt (Orange), $40

Sir & Madame Classic Logo Beanie (Gray), $40

Sir & Madame Classic Logo Beanie (Orange), $40 (pictured)

Sir & Madame ‘Sir’ Long Sleeve Black Shirt, $55

Sir & Madame ‘Sir’ Lapel Pin, $10

Instant Vintage - Pink and Blue Plaid Pants, $50 (pictured)

Instant Vintage - Camel Leather Blazer, $90

Instant Vintage - Tan Trench Coat, $60

Enbois ‘The Weekend’ Bag, $60 (pictured)

Enbois ‘Cocoa Collection’ Bracelets, $50 (pictured)

Enbois ‘Garvey’ Watch (Black), $70 (pictured)

Vee + Co. Beard Mist, $12

Vee + Co. Beard Oil, $20

Vee + Co. Beard Wash Shampoo + Conditioner, $18

Mr. Blackmans Bergamot & Spice Beard Balm, $11.99

Scotch Porter Nourish & Repair Hair Conditioner, $24.99

Scotch Porter Hydrating Hair Wash, $24.99

Scotch Porter Charcoal & Licorice Moisture Defend Face Lotion, $19.99

Levi Fisher Balm Diggity Softening Beard Butter, $12.99

Levi Fisher Smooth Operator Detangling & Conditioning Beard Serum, $9.99

Levi Fisher Go Tea Herbal Grooming Spray for Short Hair and Beards, $9.99

Sole Rebels ‘exodus Traveller ‘Shoes, $100

Sole Rebels ‘stepUP Ed. 2′ Shoes, $95 (pictured)

Sole Rebels ‘the SURGE any’ Shoes, $90

For The Technologically Savvy:

Enbois Case iPhone 7/7plus/8/8plus/iPhone X/iPhone XS/iPhone XR, $12 (pictured)

Enbois Walnut Case iPhone 6/7/8, $8

Enbois Rosewood Case iPhone 6/7/8, $8

Enbois Power Bank, $15 (pictured)

Enbois Grip Socket, $3 (pictured)

Embrii Shop Iridescent Macbook Case, $49

Embrii Shop Matte Gold Messenger Laptop Sleeve, $39

Embrii Shop Champagne Gold Glitter Macbook Case, $49

Embrii Shop Emerald Tartan MacBook Case, $49

Chic Geeks Black Faux Crocodile MacBook Case, $78

Chic Geeks Emerald Faux Crocodile MacBook Case, $78

Chic Geeks Grey Marble MacBook Case, $68 (pictured)

Chic Geeks Rose Gold Keyboard Cover, $12 (pictured)

Chic Geeks Space Gray Ombre Keyboard Cover, $12

Chic Geeks Emerald Faux Crocodile iPad Case, $78 (pictured)

Chic Geeks Unicorn Sparkle iPad Case, $68 (pictured)

Chic Geeks Emerald Glitter MacBook Case, $58

Chic Geeks Black Marble MacBook Case, $68

Chic Geeks Gray Marble iPad Case, $58

Puku G8 Earphones, $29 (pictured)

Khristian A. Howell Fig Life Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99 (pictured)

Khristian A. Howell Deuces Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99

Khristian A. Howell Buffalo Plaid Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99

Cards, Stationery and Gift Wrap:

Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus Candy Canes & Trees Gift Wrap, $7.50 (pictured)

Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus ‘HOHOHO’ Gift Wrap, $7.50 (pictured)

Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus Close Up Gift Wrap, $7.50 

Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus Gift Bag, $4.50

Sweet Potato Paper Red Plaid Gift Wrap, $9.95

Sweet Potato Paper Yellow Triangles Gift Wrap, $9.95

Sweet Potato Paper ‘Can Swim’ Gift Wrap, $9.95 (pictured)

Sweet Potato Paper ‘No Worries’ Notecards, $10.50

Sweet Potato Paper ‘Sunny Thanks’ Thank You Cards, $1.25 per card 

Sweet Potato Paper ‘Audio Thanks’ Thank You Cards, $1.25 per card (pictured)

Sweet Potato Paper Blotting Paper, $1.25 per sheet 

The DynaSmiles Stationery & Gifts Assorted Christmas Cards Bundle, $28

The DynaSmiles "Fro La La" 4x6 Sticker Sheet, $3.50 (pictured)

The DynaSmiles "Santa's Beard" Christmas Collectible Mug, $20 (pictured)

Addie Rawr ‘A Room Full of Dolls’ Adult Coloring Book, $15

Addie Rawr Fall Dolls Stickers (Die Cut & Sticker Sheets), $6.50

Midnight Reflections Melanin Prima Ballerina Ceramic Ornaments, $15.99 (pictured)

Midnight Reflections Kwanzaa Wrapping Paper Kit, $15.99

Midnight Reflections Black Santa Gift Bag Kit, $18.99

Midnight Reflections Black Angel Wrapping Paper Kit, $8.99 (pictured)

Midnight Reflections Black Santa with Snow Flakes Wrapping Paper Kit, $8.99 

Khristian A. Howell Rosey Holiday Gift Wrap, $8.99

Khristian A. Howell Rosy Twinkle Gift Wrap, $8.99

Khristian A. Howell Ansley Park Gift Wrap, $8.99

Kashmir.VIII ‘Maya’ Notebook, $11 (pictured)

Kashmir.VIII ‘The Marathon Continues’ Sticker, $9-$20

[d0gdaze]

9.

The body swap au a surprising amount of people asked for, actually.

Read on AO3 / Summary

Pairings: Eddie Kaspbrak / Richie Tozier

Warnings: swearing, sexual references

Chapter 9/?

Prev | Next 

Word Count: 4490

Eddie’s playlist

_______________________________________________________________________

Do no harm, but take no crap.

His father had said that to him once when he was fourteen, over the kitchen table with a mouthful of scrambled egg. It was a rare week when both of his parents had been present for breakfast every single day, and Richie was striving to fit as much conversation and banter in with them as he could before his lucky streak ended. That morning, while Maggie sat sipping her coffee and idly perusing the lifestyle section of a home and garden magazine, he was trying to build up a decent back and forth with Wentworth. It started with Richie talking about the previous afternoon's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles episode – well, it was more of a scene by scene reenactment –, and Went had soon tried to redirect the subject to school, and grades, and stuff Richie didn't feel much like talking about but he took the hint and indulged it anyway. After a while, his mother made an offhand comment about 'the nice boy next door,' and if 'you two were getting along yet', and he had groaned over-dramatically and made a show of face-planting into the table.

At that point, the Kaspbrak's had only lived there for a little over a month, and the only interactions he'd had with Eddie since their arrival had been brief and unpleasant.

“Pardon my french, ma, but that kid's an asshole,” he'd told her, then shovelled a heaped spoon of lucky charms into his mouth. Maggie had tsked, glancing up at Went and shaking her head before turning back to Richie.

“I don't think he has any friends, Rich,” she'd said, taking another sip from her mug, “I talked to his mother and she's-” she paused, thinking over her words for a moment, then sighed, “I'm sure he'll warm up to you soon.”

Richie had started to argue, but his father had cleared his throat and shot him a look that stopped him in his tracks.

“Do no harm, kiddo,” Went had said then, “but take no crap. From any of 'em. You remember that.”

Richie wasn't going to ask what that meant, but he'd nodded and given his dad a salute and a barking 'Yes Sir!', and Went had finished his food, pushed his chair back from the table and rinsed off his plate in the sink.

Now, Richie wasn't keeping extensive track of what harm he might be doing, but he sure as hell was taking a lot of crap lately.

After Eddie had taken a few tugs on the ol' lung sucker and calmed down enough to be reasoned with – calm by his standards, at least –, Richie could focus his attention on more important matters.

“What the fuck did you do to my hair?” he asked, really noticing for the first time how flat it looked. It was all slicked back out of his face, emphasising assets that Richie wasn't too keen about showing off, and oh, yeah he could smell the hairspray now. He reached up, attempting to dislodge a few curls and restore some volume, but didn't get very far before his hand was being slapped away.

“I couldn't stand it, dude!” Eddie whisper-yelled, re-smoothing it back down, “It was like, getting in my eyes and my mouth and shit – do you know how many kids here probably have lice?”

“You know that's a myth, right?”

Eddie blinked at him, for an extended moment, his mouth gaping in a goldfish-like fashion.

“Wh- LICE?” he actual-yelled now, his voice cracking, and man, his eyes were fucking huge in those glasses. How did anyone ever take him seriously?

(Sidenote: they didn't.)

Well, he thought, yeah. Lice were one of those things that your parents used to scare you into combing your hair every day. Didn't anyone ever tell you that, Eds? Jeez, next you're gonna tell me you still believe in the Easter Bunny, or cavities.

Instead of saying any of this out loud, though, he reached up again to try and tousle the uniformity out of his hair, only to receive another slap.

“Would you quit it?” Eddie berated, huffing and looking at least a little more dishevelled, before fumbling again for his aspirator and taking another pull.

“How'd you do this, anyway?” Richie asked, rubbing his thumb and index finger together and inspecting the oily substance they were now covered in. “I didn't think I had any hair stuff.”

He looked up, and Eddie averted his eyes, a slight tint starting to fill in his cheeks.

“I found some,” he said, shrugging in an attempt to appear inconspicuous and failing tremendously. Richie's eyes narrowed.

“Where?” he asked, – he highly doubted the boy was into midnight runs down to the corner store to pick up styling gel. At least, he hoped that wasn't the case, because holy shit, priorities.

“Why do you even care, anyway?” Eddie asked, “Not like you're the one getting your head slammed into walls now. And what's with that, by the way?”

“You're dodging the question because you did something weird, didn't you?” Richie watched him roll his eyes and grit his teeth before eyeing the door, but Richie was blocking his path and there was no way in hell he was letting this go until he got an answer.

What's one more absent mark, right?

“Come on, what was it?” he pushed, studying with intent the annoyed, flustered look Eddie was providing him. “You got hand lotion up in there? Bacon grease, maybe?” He sniffed his fingers, then wrinkled his nose. “Did you use your own spunk or somethin'?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie looked honest-to-god nauseas at this point, “please stop talking.”

“You did, didn't you? Kaspbrak, that is absolutely dees-gus-”

“It's fucking hair gel, okay! It's not-” His breathing was picking up again, and he had to close his eyes for a minute to recollect himself. He shook his aspirator, finger ready on the trigger, but he didn't use it. “I really needed to pee, and I tried to go in your bathroom, Rich, but there was mould on the shower curtain and there's been this really bad smell in there since last night and then the window wouldn't open this time and your toilet's like, directly opposite the mirror so I would have to look at myself – at you? Fuck, I just- I couldn't do it so I went into your parents room and I used their en-suite and it was just sitting on the sink and they were already both downstairs so I borrowed some.” He was talking a mile a minute, and he had to pause to catch his breath. “I didn't think I would be interrogated about it, so I'm sorry. But- spunk? Are you fucking twelve? Also I really think you should clean your bathroom. I could have snapped one of those washcloths in half.”

A moment passed before Richie responded, trying to absorb the run-on he'd just heard.

“You sit down to piss?” he asked, and Eddie went as red as a goddamn tomato.

“That's what you took away from that?!” he shrieked. Richie shrugged, throwing his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Yowza, just seems weird, is all,” he laughed, somewhat nervously. “Thought the ability to stand up while taking a wizz was like, one of the main benefits of having a d-”

“I didn't want to touch it,” Eddie interrupted, then swallowed. He was picking at the cuticle on his left thumb – it was bleeding, and Richie just now noticed the bright green bandaid wrapped around the other one. “And I don't want to talk about it, either.” “You wound me,” Richie said, with faux sincerity, hitting his chest with his fist, “right here. And, down there,” he pointed downwards with his other hand, and Eddie rolled his eyes again, even harder this time.

“I'm walking away from you now,” he said, and then did. He pushed the door open with his elbow and it swung shut behind him.

“You're welcome, by the way!” Richie called out after him, but he didn't get a response even though the fucker definitely must have heard him. “Not like I saved your life or anything. Dickhead.”

He let himself stew there for a while, occasionally kicking the wall or muttering obscenities, until the odour coming from one of the stalls finally became too much to handle and he figured he should at least try and go to class, – although, he'd completely forgotten to ask about Eddie's schedule, and he was now coming to the realisation that he hadn't given him his, either. He also knew there was a good chance Eddie had realised this too, and was just being way too stubborn to come find him and get it.

So, throwing that plan aside, he decided to enact his fallback. A plan that, while not being particularly helpful, may help him even out the playing field in regards to doing harm versus taking crap.

He made his way towards the art rooms, the idea gradually unfolding and building in front of him. In reality, it wouldn't end up being the mind-blowing game changer he was hyping himself up for, but it would surely scratch the itch.

Pulling up to the studios, and completely disregarding the fact that there was a class in progress to which he was now causing disruption, he scanned the room until he found who he was looking for.

Skirting the edge of the classroom, nearly knocking over several large canvases that had been leaned against the walls, as well as a drying rack displaying a few half-painted clay products and a large paper maché sculpture that Anne Anderson had been working on for a month now and still didn't resemble anything he'd ever seen before, he made his way over to the corner where Bill was situated. He was perched on a stool, mostly concealed from view by the canvas he had set up on his easel, but the top of his head was visible down to his brow, and the contrast of the blonde and red in his hair had imprinted on Richie enough to allow instant recognition.

“Eh-Eddie?” Bill startled as he approached, having been very focused on his painting. “Wh-wuh-what are y-you doing? I th-thuh-thought y-you w-w-were going to th-th-th-th-”

“Well gee,” Richie cut him off, smiling all too enthusiastically, “I just came to see my best pal and confidant Bill Dens-” he trailed off, was it Denson? That didn't sound right. Maybe Dan- no, it definitely started with Den. He sucked his teeth, wracking his brain for the correct information, and went to adjust his glasses only to smack the side of his face in their absence. Bill looked at him like he had two heads.

“So we're good friends, right?” Richie continued, waving off his bewildered expression. “Would you say we have a 'help each other with anything, no questions asked' kind of relationship?”

“Wh-why?” Bill leaned back slightly on the stool, cautiously putting a few extra inches between them.

“Because I need your help with something and I don't want you to ask any questions,” he said, watching something like alarm and or fear flicker in Bill's eyes. He leaned forward again, throwing a hasty glance around the room while pulling Richie in by his shoulder.

“Eddie did y-you fuh-ucking kill R-Richie?” he whispered, panicked.

“Woah, easy up cowboy,” Richie snickered, shrugging his hand off and straightening himself again, “how'd you jump to that conclusion?”

Bill didn't appear to ease up, only stared at him cautiously.

“Y-y-you t-talk about killing h-h-him a l-lot,” he said, then looked Richie up and down, “and y-y-you look kinda cr-crazy r-ruh-right now.”

Richie glanced down at himself. His shirt was half tucked into his jeans and he was, in fact, wearing two different coloured shoes. He hummed in acknowledgement, then looked back up.

“I promise that I have not committed murder,” he said, holding up three fingers in a scout salute. A little of the tension in Bill's shoulders seemed to release, but not much. “Whatcha paintin' anyway?”

Richie moved around until he was standing behind Bill, getting a straight-on view of the canvas, and let's out a low whistle. Because it had, you know, actually good. Better than anything he'd ever made in class, anyway. It also was not the pile of rocks sitting on a table at the front of the room that every other student was trying to recreate. He'd gone off book – a portrait, the central focus made up of bright, warm hues, standing out amazingly against the dark blue and purple floral arrangements scattered around the border. It had, like, actual depth and lighting and whatever the fuck else professional art terms Richie didn't pretend to understand. And, oh shit, that looked just like-

“Beverly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Bill, and watched him sputter, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“N-n-no,” he insisted, loudly, “i-i-i-it's n-n-n-n-nuh-n-not, I-”

Richie let out a honk of a laugh, patting him on the back.

“You are a riot, Billiam, we should totally hang out sometime.”

And before Bill could even begin to process what the ever-loving fuck is going on, Richie was pulling him to his feet, thrusting his backpack into his arms and leading him through the class room and out the door.

Bill, in the seemingly countless years he'd been friends with Eddie, had learned that sometimes it was better to just go with it. Truthfully, if it had turned out that Eddie finally did snap, and Richie Tozier was in fact lying lifeless on the floor of the boys bathroom, he wouldn't have been overly surprised. Sure, he might cry. Puke, maybe. Make a note to give him a stern talking to about why killing people is wrong, even if you don't like them very much. But at the end of the day, he'd help hide the body, and help create an alibi, and whatever else he needed to do. Because it was Eddie, – Bill would do all that and more, because he knew if the roles were reversed, Eddie would do the same for him.

So he let himself get dragged down an empty hallway, and he didn't ask too many questions about it. He figured the boy was only going through yet another manic episode, brought on by the upcoming track qualifiers or something his mother did or, more likely, something Tozier did. Jesus, there were days when Eddie talked about little else, and Bill suspected there were many more where he thought of nothing but.

There was always something, and increasingly so in the recent months. It was all 'Richie drew a dick on my window last night!' or 'Richie made fun of my height again!' or 'have you seen Richie today? He's wearing a hat and it's pissing me off!' or 'Richie looked at me funny in English so I'm gonna yell at him later!' and fuck, Bill really tried to be supportive, but sometimes he just wanted to lock them in the janitors closet together and give the rest of the world some peace. It's not like he didn't want to sympathise with every little complaint and annoyance that seemed to plague his friend's mind day in and day out, but he couldn't help but think, sometimes, that a lot of Eddie's mountains were actually molehills.

And, he'd never dare say it to Eddie, but Richie didn't seem all that bad. He shared a few classes with the guy, and sure he made some crass comments, smelled like an ashtray, and spent every single art class drawing dicks on any blank surface placed in front of him, but he wasn't outright awful. His friend's were nice too – Stan and Mike and Beverly Marsh – and Bill thought, if they all liked Richie Tozier as much as they appeared to, then he couldn't be as much of a terror as he'd been made out to be.

Hell, he reckoned that in another life, they'd probably all get along pretty nicely as a group of seven.

He followed Eddie into the bathroom, stood aside and waited for him to check that all the stalls were empty and lock the door, then watched him pull a large pair of kitchen scissors out of his backpack. Bill's initial reaction was knocked out of him, though, when Eddie then proceeded to start unbuttoning his jeans.

A strangled noise rose up from his throat, he could already feel the barricades forming on his tongue. He just gaped, rendered speechless in more ways than one.

“Fuck is you gawkin' at?” Eddie said in some undecipherable accent, looking up at Bill with the waistband of his pants hugging his thighs. Then he smiled, winked, held the scissors out in his direction – he took them, with hesitancy –, and pulled his pants the rest of the way down before stumbling out of them without taking his shoes off.

Bill suddenly wished he'd walked into a bloody crime scene instead. At least that would have made sense.

“Eds!” His words finally caught up to him, and he sucked in a gasping breath, immediately regretting it because the air tasted like stale piss. “W-w-w-wuh-what the f-f-fuck?”

“What?” Eddie laughed, holding the offending item of clothing out in front of him with both hands, as if inspecting them, before throwing them over his shoulder. “No boy's ever taken his pants off for you before?”

Christ, Bill thought, he's completely lost it. Next week I'm gonna be visiting him up at Juniper.

“Pass me those, will ya?” Eddie made a grabby motion at the tool in Bill's hand; he instinctively started to hand them over, then pulled them back.

“W-what are y-yuh-you gonna d-do w-w-w-with them?” he asked, his voice shaking terribly even with the stutter.

“We're gonna turn these here lame-ass pantaloons into something worth looking at, Billy boy,” Eddie replied. Bill continued to stare, addled and bewildered. When he left class he'd prepared himself for something illogical, another breakdown that ended with the two of them ditching until lunch so Eddie could vent his frustrations and scream into his fist. But this, whatever it was, was more than he would ever be able to brace himself for.

He shook his head, holding his hands out in a manner that he hoped said 'I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, and it's nine thirty in the fucking morning,' because he was sure he wouldn't be able to say it out loud. Eddie sighed, yanking the scissors out of Bill's hand by the blades, and if that wasn't an indication that something was very wrong, then Bill didn't know what was.

“Aren't you, like, usually all over this shit?” Eddie asked, gesturing down to Bill's legs, clad in black jeans that were, as his parent's and teacher's had often chastised him for, ripped to shit, and Bill's brain whirred loudly for a minute before he thought he'd almost caught on.

“Y-y-you w-w-w-want me to h-huh-help y-you cut h-holes in y-y-your pants?” He guessed, and Eddie grinned, tilting his chin up slightly. “H-here? I-i-in the b-bathroom?”

“Would've been real fucking weird if I stripped down in the cafeteria,” Eddie said, and – well, Bill couldn't argue with that.

So, he helped Eddie bastardise his jeans, slicing them up more than he figured was necessary, but hey, who was he to try and put a muzzle on his best friend's identity slash fashion crisis. He even showed him how to create a frayed effect by quickly scrubbing the raw edges together, and honestly, after a few minutes he'd calmed down quite a bit, to the point where his stutter was nearly minimal. After his pants were back on, and Eddie had checked himself out in the mirror approvingly, he showed Bill how much length he wanted cut off the bottom of his t-shirt – not an excessive amount, but enough to show a sliver of skin if he lifted his arms up. It ended up a little lopsided, but not noticeably enough that it mattered. Bill thought Eddie was far past caring about that, anyway.

“What do you think?” Eddie asked, holding his hands on his hips and looking very unlike himself – so uncollected and messy, but not bad, Bill thought. He hummed, watching the other boy make adjustments as he looked at his reflection, past the streaks of grime and water stains and graffiti littering the mirror. He started to play with his hair, fluffing it out before running his hand back through it.

“I h-have an idea,” Bill offered, thinking that they'd gone this far, may as well keep piling shit on. He shrugged his backpack off, kneeling down to rifle through it until he found what he was looking for, producing a fistful of coloured markers held together with a rubber band. Eddie raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting up into a smirk. “I p-promise it'll w-w-wash out.”

Meanwhile, Eddie – (the actual one) – had realised too late that he didn't have a clue where he was supposed to be going. Not that he would have been able to sit down and pay attention to anything, with the rate his heart was currently beating at, and the ache still pounding away at the back of his skull. Knowing that wandering the building aimlessly would definitely end in him getting written up by some freshman who thought that being a hall monitor gave you any real authority, and knowing that he couldn't exactly go back and talk to Richie, because duh, he headed out to the track. He knew it wouldn't be in use until the afternoon, and if he could waste some time by running in frantic circles then at least something would feel normal.

It wasn't as easy now – Richie's skinny jeans constricted a lot of his movement, and he kept tripping over his own feet, – but eventually he fell into a rhythm and just went.

He'd never really known why he liked it so much. He was good at it, sure. Really good at it. One-point-three-seconds-away-from-breaking-the-state-record good at it. That was the answer he gave people when they asked why, at least. If he was any sort of introspective he'd know that his skill played little part in the real reason.

His mother hadn't let him set foot in a physical education class until he was in high school, and that was only after a whole year of begging and pleading and compromise – he'd not participate in contact sports or anything with a bat, a promise that he didn't keep but she still believed he did. He'd joined track a couple years ago, which his coach recommended when Eddie consistently beat out the rest of the class in both speed and endurance any time they did laps. It's how he'd gotten closer to Ben, who as far as he could tell joined the team out of spite for another teacher who told him he'd never run a mile in under fifteen minutes, and he could now do one in seven.

Eddie told his mother that he spent those afternoons studying at Bill's, but some part of him always wanted to tell her. Wanted to say; 'just watch me, Ma. Just watch how fast I go! I'm fucking flying out there! I'm not breaking like you said I would! I'm not dying like you said I would!' but he knew that if she found out just how good he was at it, then she'd lock him up and never let him go. If she knew that he could run away, he'd never get the chance.

And god, it felt so fucking good. The feeling of his feet pelting against the tartan ground, the strain in his hamstrings, the burn in his calves, the sweat, the heat, all of it, – he felt alive out there. He could forget the pills and the calorie counting and the stupid piece of plastic that he didn't even need to have in his pocket when he was doing it, because it was the only time that his lungs ever felt open enough to breath on his own. He didn't even have to care about how that didn't make sense. It didn't matter. Nothing fucking mattered!

So he ran until the ache in his legs outweighed the one in his head, and then some, then when he couldn't run anymore he walked, and when he couldn't do that he laid down face first on the track. The synthetic material was cold due to the heavy cloud cover that hadn't passed in days, the familiar smell of rubber and grass invaded his senses. His glasses pressed uncomfortably into his face, and were also fogged up to the point of being useless, but he didn't bother to take them off. He hoped that if he concentrated on it enough, he might melt right down into the earth.

Before he could make any decent headway on that plan, he felt someone kick softly at his leg. He held his breath, playing dead in the hopes that they'd just go away, but they only waited a moment before kicking him again, a little harder this time. He tilted his head so he could see who it was, before exhaling a long sigh. “Get up,” Stan said, dryly. Eddie turned his head back to his original position.

“Make me.”

There was a pause where he thought he might have left, but then he heard shuffling, and saw Stan sit down in his peripheral vision.

“Why are you out here?” Stan asked, leaning forward on his knees and resting his chin in his hands.

“Why are you?” Eddie retaliated, too tired for any real bite. Stan huffed, tapping his fingers along his cheekbone.

“Because I went to check on you in the sick bay and you weren't there,” he said, and Eddie felt a tinge of guilt at his tone, “I wanted to make sure you weren't being murdered.”

He turned his head again, resting his cheek against the ground so he was facing Stan.

“I thought you'd be out smoking on the football field again, but then I saw you lying in the middle of the running track. Shoot me for being worried.”

Eddie muttered a 'sorry', and Stan rolled his eyes before smiling down at him.

They give a crap, Eddie thought, suddenly remembering the roll of tape he'd earlier seen Stan take out of his bag. He forced down the lump that formed in his throat.

A few raindrops fell, dotting the ground in front of him and tapping softly against the side of his face.

“Come on,” Stan said, standing himself up and dusting off before reaching his hand out, “we'll go find Bev and Mike and wag next period.”

And Eddie thought, pushing himself up to his knees and taking his hand, hey, that doesn't sound too bad.

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[dviciousbikefemme]

March 19th 2020– From Globe Arizona we pedaled 75 miles into the town of Safford. I got us in touch with a sweet man named Jay. He was on Warmshowers and said to head on over. We got in around dinner time. He promptly showed us the space we’d be staying in. It is an incredibly large garage filled with all sorts of objects and machines and trinkets— who knows what you might dig up— his very own archeological site. It provided us with a shower, a toilet, a stove and two small makeshift beds. The stories I began to tell myself about Jay ran wild. Looking around, youda thunk he was a sentimental, jack of all trades. Bicycles, car parts, a wood chipper, books on computers, the environment, enough appliances to live with, which of course, we did for one evening. It was endless! He didn’t stay around long that night to chit-chat so we got to work on dinner and fell right into slumber.

The following morning we were greeted by Jay as his office was a room within that seemingly ancient structure. He offered us some lukewarm coffee and company and Bobby and I gladly accepted. We chowed down on our classic rolled oats breakfast as he constructed the tapestry of his life and mission right before our eyes. He is a father, a husband, an expert on hardware, a beekeeper, an environmental activist, an explorer, a lover, a builder, an inventor— the list goes on and on. It turns out he is quite the kindred spirit as protecting Mother Earth is so very important to him. He co-created an organization that cleans up litter in the Southeastern Arizona region. It even attempts to hold others like the Bureau of Land Management accountable for the maintenance of their land. His passion for Her and and his commitment to Love are quite admirable. Living through love is so important to him— unconditional and committal to himself, his beliefs, and in return- to others and to Earth.

Leaving Jay and Safford behind we continued to Duncan, Arizona where we’d stay with Deborah and Clay at the Simpson Hotel. They used to offer up Warmshowers space but no longer do so. Their hospitality in their bed and breakfast in this tiny town were, nonetheless, enjoyable. Most of the way into Duncan provided our thirsty eyes with snow capped mountains and hills and hills of poppies and desert brush. The air was cool and crisp for the first part of the day, making for pleasant cycling and the welcoming of sunshine. We stopped several times for snacking and bathing on Earth’s tender surface. Once in Duncan proper, the heat came on strong with insects that flew into our mouths and noses and shirt pockets and gasped for air crawling through my calves’ sweat and hair. We arrived at the door of the b&b to find a note saying they’d be back after our arrival— go ahead and make yourselves at home. The entire property is an art experience in and of itself— from paintings filling every wall to sculptures in the garden, plants of many and beautifully displayed objects natural and synthesized— A textural wonderland for the eyes. Bobby and Deborah hit it off quickly talking about their favorite folk musicians. Clay turns out to be prolific artist. The morning after, he took Bobby and I out to his studio after breakfast, humbly sitting past the laundry shelter. His art took me by surprise! It is quite original and quite funny and whimsical— each assemblage taking you into another world. The concept is that only one person is allowed to view one piece at a time in a world where our attention spans have become so short. Thank you, Don Carlos. ‘Twas masterful and colorful and left me feeling like I’d traveled back to see an ancestral time, synchronously, peering into a future reality.

[thewriterofmanythings]

And They Were Roommates

Day 5 of Widojest Week-There’s only one bed, or Alternate Universe

Nott and Yeza's apartment is undergoing renovations, and the cute foreign grad student Jester has been crushing on needs a place to stay. What could go wrong? Super happy with this fic. You can also read it on AO3. As usual big shoutout to @3fling for all the love and support, especially this time because I wouldn’t even have a plot for this otherwise!

Working at the local coffee shop had a lot of benefits. Free coffee of course, free pastries at the end of the night, listening to whatever music the employees wanted, and the flexible hours that worked with her school schedule.

The cute redhead grad student that came in everyday was definitely a plus too.

Jester had been working at Cool Beans for four years and had seen all manner of people come through the door. As a college town it wasn’t a surprise; people came from all over and stayed a few months to a few years while they studied. Some of those people stayed but most left to go back to wherever they came from or even off to new places. Jester herself dreamed of leaving one day, venturing out into the world and discovering what was out there. But for now she was here, working towards an art degree and making the best of her situation.

The redheaded grad student was a foreigner from Germany. He spoke excellent English though his accent was a bit tough to understand at times, especially if he ever got frustrated. His name was Caleb and he had come all the way from his home country to join one of the world’s best linguistics programs. He came in every day at exactly one p.m., ordered a sandwich and an americano with an extra shot of espresso, and sat down to study for two hours before neatly cleaning his table and heading out.

Jester enjoyed people watching, trying to analyze people from the way they walk, the things they did, how they interacted with other people. Even before she had a full conversation with Caleb she noticed he was quiet, polite, and had a dry sense of humor. His wardrobe was full of earthy tones, lots of boots and plain button up shirts, adding in jackets, scarves and hats when the weather began to turn cold. On the rare occasion he came in when it didn’t seem he was studying he still carried a simple black leather notebook. He often pulled the top part of his shoulder length hair into a sort of bun, exposing the pen he regularly kept behind his right ear. Ink marks and scratches along his hand indicated he did a lot of writing and, Jester would guess, he owned a cat.

Of course, it wasn’t all just staring from a distance. Jester had begun to build a friendship with Caleb thanks to a strange change of relationships. Most often at the shop Jester shared her shift with Clay and Molly; the three of them made a trifecta of hair colors and piercings that gave the warm shop an unexpected punk vibe. Clay was a gardener of sorts and had made friends with Yeza and Nott, the lovely couple whom Caleb was staying with during his time in the States. Molly was in a band with two women named Beau and Yasha and the group usually played in a newer dive bar downtown on Saturday nights. Jester and Clay went every week to support their friend, and one day while picking up a new plant Clay had told Yeza about the shows. Knowing it was unhealthy for Caleb to spend all his time in the house studying, Nott and Yeza had immediately booked a recurring sitter for their young son and dragged Caleb down to the bar to hang out with others. The eight of them had begun to get closer, but Jester still found it difficult at times to put herself out there and really engage with Caleb.

Today however was Jester’s lucky day.

“Caleb!” The small bell chimed through the coffee shop as Nott slipped in, shutting the door quickly to keep the cold wind from freezing the customers out. The woman was on the shorter side but no one ever noticed because her personality more than made up for it. Her sense of humor among the friend group was unrivaled and she could easily drink them all under the table.

“Ya Nott, is everything all right?” Caleb looked up from his laptop where he had been hyper focused on a paper. His brow was furrowed with a mix of worry and confusion.

Jester busied herself with straightening the pastry display, which was conveniently close to Caleb’s table. She could be particularly nosy at times due to her curious nature, but now she mostly wanted to make sure everything was okay with Nott’s family.

“I’m all right Caleb, but I’m afraid I do have some bad news. The renovation plans have been moved up by two whole weeks!”

“Oh, that means…” Caleb’s voice trailed off, his face turning into a frown.

“Yeah exactly! Yeza’s mom said she can take Luke, and we have another friend we can stay with, but she only has one extra room.”

“I see. So I suppose I will need to find a place to stay in the meantime since Clay will not be back until the end of the month.”

“I’m really sorry about that Caleb! I’ll help you look, surely we can find something soon. Maybe you can stay with Beau or something?”

“He can stay with me!”

Jester fought the urge to clasp her hands over her mouth. Wow, smooth move Jester. Inviting your little crush to live with you? There’s no way this is gonna go well, she thought to herself. She hadn’t even stopped to consider the ramifications of what she had volunteered for.

Something glinted behind Nott’s eyes and she nodded her head frantically. “Yes! Yes that would be perfect! You’re just the best Jester.”

“Oh, I… I would hate to impose, Jester, that’s very kind of you…” Caleb stuttered, his hands nervously fidgeting with his scarf.

“I think it sounds like the perfect plan.” Molly emerged from the back room where he had apparently been listening to the whole conversation. “Jessie might bring you out of your shell, Mr. Caleb, and Jester, well…. You could learn some tidiness habits perhaps.”

What a wingman, Jester thought, rolling her eyes at her purple-haired friend. He smirked, twirling around and walking to the register to help another customer who had walked in.

“Don’t you have a dog? I do not know if my cat would like that.”

“Oh that’s okay! Nugget doesn’t mind cats, he won’t bother Frumpkin!” Jester smiled at Caleb, trying her hardest not to blush.

“Well, I suppose it would be the best offer I could get on such sort notice.”

Nott beamed at the two of them. “Sounds like it’s settled then! I’ll help you pack up Caleb and we’ll be right over!”

***

“Soooo, this is my apartment. It’s nothing crazy you know, but it’s nice and has a good view and a lot of spaaace….”

Jester could feel herself beginning to ramble as she opened the door to her studio apartment. It was extremely nice for college student standards; her mother wanted her to be comfortable so she paid for Jester’s rent, but she also wanted her daughter to learn the value of hard work, meaning Jester was responsible for her own tuition and school supplies, as well as any other necessities. All things considered it was a pretty nice arrangement.

The living room was a nice open space with a gorgeous window overlooking downtown. The kitchen and living room were decorating in bright colors with unique art sculptures spaced around. In the center of the open area close to the window sat a large easel displaying a half finished painting. A number of half-dead attempts at plant keeping were littered about the area as well.

“You have a very nice place, Jester.” Caleb was huffing a bit as he carried in a large box of his belongings. Jester herself had Frumpkin’s cat carrier and a bag of cat supplies. There was still a fair amount of stuff to bring in but this was a good start.

“So I don’t have a second room but the couch is a fold out and it’s totally comfy.” Jester sat Frumpkin’s carrier down and unlatched the door. “Here, kitty kitty kitty!”

After a second Frumpkin lazily made his way out, beginning to inspect the strange new space. The two of them watched as he began to sniff the couch, marking the edge with his scent glands.

“You are an artist?” Caleb asked, gesturing toward the easel.

“I do! I’m an art major but I don’t get to do a lot of painting stuff at my level so I like to practice it here.”

“I look forward to seeing you work.”

Jester tried not to let Caleb see her blush as she began to help him unpack. The rest of the day was spent moving boxes to make sure everything was out of Nott and Yeza’s apartment in time for the renovators to begin their work, taking only a small break for Chinese food. The conversation was timid at first, the two of them dancing around each other the way acquaintances interact at a party when their mutual friend goes to visit the bathroom. But by the end of the night the two had sunk into a comfortable rhythm. As Jester went to sleep that night, she played over the day’s event in her head, giggling every time she thought about how she had made Caleb laugh. If she didn’t have a crush before, she was certainly deep in one now.

***

“Jester, look out!”

Caleb’s frantic voice came from inside Jester’s room. It had been a week since Caleb had moved in, and Frumpkin and Nugget hadn’t gotten along as well as Jester had assured him they would. He had spent the last hour trying to coax his cat out from under her bed and it seemed like the persuasion had taken a turn for the worse.

Jester glanced over from her position at the easel. She was enjoying her Saturday morning routine of hot tea and painting, listening to Regina Spektor ring out through the apartment via her wireless speaker. Her trance like state was broken as she saw Frumpkin shoot down the hallway, followed by Nugget’s large body. The cat turned sharply, but the poor dog was caught unaware and his attempt to switch directions was nowhere near as smooth, throwing himself right into Jester’s easel. Thanks to Caleb’s warning however, she was able to stabilize the workspace, only losing a bit of her paint to the tarp underfoot in the process.

Caleb ran out, his red hair a frazzled halo around his head. He frantically darted into the kitchen, trying to corner Frumpkin around the island, but the cat was wise and jumped up onto the counter, knocking over one of Jester’s plants in the process.

Catching wind of what Caleb was trying to do, Jester ran to try to intercept him, but the cat was too fast and she ended up tripping over Nugget instead. She braced herself for a fall onto the hardwood floor, but felt hands attempt to catch her. Unfortunately in his rush to help, Caleb himself was off balance, sending both of them tumbling to the floor.

Jester felt her face redden at being so close to Caleb. She could feel his breath on her face and his eyes were just inches away from her own. Her mind scrambled to think of something to say, an apology or excuse or anything, but her brain was short-circuiting.

“Paint,” Caleb said, pulling her out of her panicked haze.

“Wh-what?”

“Sorry, you uh, you have paint on your cheek.” 

She felt Caleb’s thumb rest on her cheek, gently wiping away a fleck of color. He still lay there though, holding her in his arms, inches from her face. She knew she ought to pull herself away, get up and clear her head, but she had to admit there was no place else she would rather be. “Thank you,” she said, barely daring to whisper.

“Your freckles are quite beautiful.” Caleb spoke breathlessly, his thumb still stroking her cheek softly. His eyes seemed transfixed, glancing over every bit of Jester’s face. She could feel his heart beat underneath her hand.

It’s now or never Jester, said the voice in the back of her head, and before she realized what she was doing she had closed the distance between him. Her lips touched his, quickly and softly before backing away. “I’m sorry Caleb, I don’t know why-”

Her voice was silenced by the sudden presence of Caleb’s lips on hers. He had kissed her back, but his held intent. Something about him was hungry, as if he had been waiting for this for months and he was going to enjoy every moment of it. She moaned into his mouth as her tongue slipped into hers and she moved her hand to the back of his head, intertwining her fingers through his hair.

Caleb suddenly moved away and Jester moved after him, craving more before realizing he had something to say. “I did not know this was a perk,” he said, chuckling lightly before kissing her again.

Jester in turn pulled away, laughing as well. “Only for really special roommates.”

***

“Caleb, the rennovaters are all done! You can move back in whenever you want to!”

Nott’s voice came across loud through the phone speaker, forcing Caleb to turn the volume down. It was seven in the morning and the sun was barely beginning to peek through the window of his apartment. He looked down at the woman next to him, still asleep with her blue hair splayed out across the bedsheets.

“Thank you Nott, but I don’t think that will be necessary for now.”

“Really?”

“Ya. I think things have worked out just fine.”

[micheltaanman-blog]

ChiangMai .Wie het weet mag het zeggen.

ChiangMai .Wie het weet mag het zeggen.

Ach man Thailand . als ik er aan terug denk loopt het water me al weer in de mond . Overal  word gebakken , gekookt , gesmoord en uiteraard gegeten en gedronken . Wat een feest  . Met een binnenlands vlucht uit Surat thani airport landen we in het Noorden . Hello ChiangMai . Ander eten ander klimaat . Lekker koel savonds . Ga daar even naar toe als je in Thailand ben . Even Sushi eten op straat…

[3coffeemonkeys-blog]

Creativity is booming in Chiang Mai! Experience this thriving city and the art of making things happen! Expect the unexpected and get inspired!

The interior design and atmosphere of coffee shops in Chiang Mai are not ‘faceless’. They not only reflect the personality and visions of their owners, but they also create new and memorable experiences in the lives of their guests.

Here are our 10 favourite creative coffee shops in Chiang Mai:

Mix Kaffee

Hours: Mon-Fr 10am-3:30pm

Address: Mix Kaffee, 29/2 Arak Road, Sri Phum, 50200 Amphoe Muang Chiang Mai

Website: https://www.facebook.com/Mixkaffee/

Phone: 0066 81 568 7203

This coffee shop is located next to a busy main road, but once you come inside, you will hear calming jazz music from a LP player and the friendly discussions of locals. The owner, Mr. Ton, is a charismatic and talkative coffee aficionado. Mix Kaffee offers a homely atmosphere and is well known because the baristas don’t use an espresso machine or drippers to prepare excellent coffee drinks. Instead, they are creating amazing shots of coffee with Moka pots! Mix Kaffee creates surprising and delightful customer experiences that will be remembered decades later.

Coffeein Mix Kaffee

Barista and owner in Coffee shop “Mix kaffee”

Bialetti Moka

Bays coffee co.

Hour

s: Mo-Sun 8am-9pm

Address: bays coffee co., Soi Hmong, 50300 Chiang Mai

Website: https://www.facebook.com/bayscoffeeco/

Phone: 0066 86 673 4853

A friendly and highly skilled barista – named Bay –  is running this innovative coffee kiosk. He uses outstanding quality local beans to brew amazing coffee drinks. Coffee lovers can choose from various manual brewing methods: pour-over coffee, slow-drip, Aeropress or Frenchpress. Bays Cafe shares a relaxing open air area with the Food4Thought restaurant. Bay not only masters the philosophical art of coffee preparing and drinking, but he also passionate about making a positive, constructive impact on the community of Chiang Mai. He uses a portion of his profit to empower local at-risk youth. One of Bays life slogans is: ‘When we get, we give. When we sip together, we stay together.’

Bays coffee co., Barista are preparing a coffee

Bays coffee co., Barista are preparing a coffee

Coffee corner

Drip for friends

Hours: Tue-Fri 10am-5pm, Sat-Sun 10am-6pm, Mo closed

Address: Drip for friends, The Passion room 107, 15/9 Moo 5, Pong Noi Rd., Suthep, Muang

Website: https://www.facebook.com/dripforfriends/

Phone: 0066 86 562 3633

This lovely, small coffee shop celebrates the art of coffee and its beautiful journey from the plantation to into our cups. Come here and enjoy handcrafted coffee drinks that are as carefully created as the interior design of this place. Drip for friends features a warm and cozy interior full of original, inspiring details. This coffee shop is located in the  Baan Kang wat area and brings together life-enjoyers and friends of good coffee.

Drip for friends, kiosk

Stand in Pottery village

Paper Spoon

Hours: Thu-Tue 10:30am-4:30pm, Wed closed

Address: Paper Spoon Coffee Shop, Su Thep, Mueang Chiang Mai District, 50200 Chiang Mai

Website:https://www.facebook.com/pages/Paper-Spoon-Coffee-Shop/132855196787701

Phone: 0066  089 112 9108

Paper Spoon is a small, cozy coffee and gift shop combined as one within a small community space which consists of several small handicraft stores. The wooden compound building and lovely garden is also the home of the owner, Malai, who invited her friends to use the space for creative projects together with her. As a team, they are promoting creativity and innovation in Chiang Mai. Paper Spoon has a wooden interior, decorative details in every corner and a warm and intimate atmosphere.

Paper Spoon, canter with small snacks

Paper Spoon, gallery and art studio

Hana Zono Café

Hours: Mo-Sat 8:00am-10:00pm, Sun 10:00am-7:00pm

Address: Hana Zono Café, Suan Dok Rd, Tambon Su Thep, Amphoe Mueang Chiang Mai

Website: https://www.facebook.com/hana.zono.cafe.chiangmai.thailand/

Phone: 0066 94 606 2020

The interior of this small and quiet coffee shop is inspired by Japanese simple and homely aesthetic design. It features natural light, calming white walls and contrasting minimalist wooden furniture. There are all sorts of interesting decorative details such as a carpet, a corner for kids with interesting, colorful toys or elegant and tasteful flower arrangements. The baristas make their guests feel like the cafe is their home away from home. Hana Zono Café is located close to the Wat Suan Dok.

Barista in Hana Zono Café

Flat white in Hana Zono Café

No.39

Hours: Mo-Sun 9:30am-7:00pm

Address: No. 39, Suthep, Amphoe Muang Chiang Mai

Website: https://www.facebook.com/no39chiangmai/

Phone: 0066 52 076 158

No. 39 offers a beautifully designed in- and outdoor space with a pond in the center. This relaxing cafe takes its inspiration and atmosphere from the surrounding lush and refreshing nature. The guests can choose between several creative seating options. Depending on your mood or preferences you can enjoy your coffee on one of the oversized cushions the wooden deck, you can grab a chair by the water or settle in one of the cozy small wooden cabins. Spending time at No. 39 feels like a picnic within a beautiful, calming pond setting. It’s a great place to enjoy relaxing moments.

No.39 cafe around small lake

No.39, display with cake

No.39 view on cafe

Woo Cafe

Hours: Mo-Sun 10:00am-10:00pm

Address: Woo Cafe, 80 Charoenrat Road, Wat Gate, Chiang Mai

Website: http://www.woochiangmai.com/

Phone: 0066 52 003 717

The Woo Cafe, Art Gallery & Lifestyle Shop offers a refreshingly romantic vibe that will make your day! It’s a ‘fairytale garden room’ filled with beautiful, exotic plants and flowers, vintage furniture and the exciting work of local changing artists. Woo Cafe offers a spacious room with several tables, including a large, nicely decorated communal table. And yes, the coffee and food is delicious! Woo Cafe – which is located close to a river, not far from the city center – clearly reflects Chiang Mai’s enormous lovely, dynamic and creative spirit.  

Display with deserts

Woo cafe and gallery

View on interior of cafe Woo

Asama Cafe

Hours: Mo-Sun 8:00am-3:45pm

Address: Asama Cafe, 122/128 Moo. 6 Klong Cholpratarn, 50200 Chiang Mai

Website: https://www.facebook.com/AsamaCafe/

Phone: 0066 81 530 5388

Here you can combine your love for coffee with your love for nature. Asama Cafe is a quiet hidden gem next to a pond with exotic plant life and a stunning view of the Doi Suthep Mountain. Located within a residential area, next to the private house of the owner, Asama Cafe is a must-see and a must-sip experience. Mook, the passionate owner of this small paradise brews the coffee drinks with spirit. She is also one of Thailand’s judges for the national barista championships.

Cappuccino at lake

Asama Cafe in Chiang Mai

Asama cafe, flat white at lake

Clay Studio Coffee in the Garden

Hours: Mo-Sun 8:00am-5:30pm

Address: Asama Cafe, 122/128 Moo. 6 Klong Cholpratarn, 50200 Chiang Mai

Website: https://www.facebook.com/AsamaCafe/

Phone: 0066 81 530 5388

We highly recommend to visit this coffee shop, which is located within a tranquil garden filled with local terracotta art work. It’s a mystical open-air gallery in Chiang Mai’s Old City displaying the artwork of Baan Phor Liang Meun, a well-known terracotta workshop, which has its main production site in the close-by town of Lamphun. The beautifully decorated small coffee shop has floor-to-ceiling glass walls which beautifully connect the indoor and outdoor space. That way, the coffee shop becomes one with the garden.

Sitting on garden in shadow of trees

Mocha in Clay Studio Coffee in the Garden

Details in Clay Studio Coffee in the Garden

SS1254372 Cafe  & Seescape Gallery

Hours: Tue-Sun 8:00am-6:00pm, Mo closed

Address: SS1254372 Cafe, 22/1 Soi Nimmana Haeminda 17 Chiang Mai

Website: https://www.facebook.com/ss1254372cafe/

Phone: 0066 93 831 9394

‘Meanwhile, in our hometown, a granny has created her very own spacecraft to supply food during the exploration of the art space.’ This is the story and mission of this unusual and inspiring Art and Eatery Space, which is connected to the Gallery Seescape. As soon as you enter this place you feel like being inside a uniquely designed – one of a kind –  spaceship with 3 big round windows, colorful tables, old telephones and various handicraft items. What an inspiring place!  Mission Accomplished! 🙂

SS1254372 Cafe & Seescape Gallery, sunny morning in cafe

SS1254372 Cafe & Seescape Gallery, coffee

Top 10 creative and beautifully designed Coffee Shops in Chiang Mai Creativity is booming in Chiang Mai! Experience this thriving city and the art of making things happen!

[dashandasplash]

You guys might already know this: my absolute favourite #coffee is coffee with #coconut #milk. There's something about the creaminess and the coconut aftertaste that makes my heart swoon. ⁣ ⁣ Part of the reason why I love Chiang Mai is that it's super common there. You better believe that I fully indulge. Every. Single. Time. Fun fact: coconut milk contains less fat and less calories than full-fat milk! ⁣ ⁣ Is this something you would try? 🥛 #drinkstagram #coconutmilk #coffeetime #ChiangMai @claystudiocoffee⁣ •⁣ •⁣ •⁣ •⁣ •⁣ •⁣ •⁣ #eeeeeats #foodpost #foodphotography #foodcoma #food #foodie #devourpower #yummy #feedfeed #eat #tastingtable #foodgasm #indoor #aroii #delicious #flatlay #foodpic #foodstagram #f52grams #yesmichelinguide #foodporn #instafood #foodbeast (at Clay Studio Coffee In The Garden) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bun-3clFqD9/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=6xeu08sf8h0o

[vikas643]

Best Place to Buy Furniture in Hyderabad

A Guide To Hyderabad's Best Furniture Stores

The city of Hyderabad offers a range of all kinds of furniture but if you are looking out for imported unique furniture near me with unique designs, then the best 8 best furniture stores would given to you. Bought a new home or are you planning to transform your home from drab to amazing? We know the drill-find the right furniture that fits your budget or taste can be quite a task. As you know, we are good at these tasks. here is a list of the best furniture stores in Hyderabad. We also have online lighting store visit our website for more details.

1. Furniturewalla

Furniturewalla in Bajaranga Hills is top class furniture store. It is the coming with collection of creative and experienced professionals who specialize in offering products and services that serve both to residential as well as commercial establishments alike. Right from luxury, premium furniture online to Interior Services, from bedroom furniture Sets to designer living room furniture, from modern dining table to modular kitchen solutions.

2. Danube Home

Danube Home in Kondapur, is where you can rejuvenate up on home decor in vibrant colours, kitchenware that makes cooking seem more enjoyable, and furniture that lends a contemporary feel to your home. Whatever is your style - we love how Danube appeals to minimalists and Pinterest fanatics equally. From the gorgeous textures on paintings to mirrors made from metal, wood, and clay, everything is carefully selected to suit different tastes, budgets, and priorities. The garden decoration is quite large. In fact, you can transform your entire patio or balcony area no matter what regardless of size with the products from our store.

3. Urbane Home & Garden Jubilee

Urbane Home & Garden Furniture in Jubilee Hills is a delightful to even looks at. There are large patio-like settings for placing garden decorations such as swings, nesting tables with chairs, stone sculptures, or glass vases online. Admire at them or step inside to discover home decor accessories and furniture. These pieces will surely make your home gorgeous.

4. N Square Studio

Run by Nikita and Nitisha Popat, N Square Studio is a Hyderabad based brand. This studio has craftsmen who handcraft stunning and minimalistic furniture. From coffee table and stools to trolleys online and armchairs, their classic pieces can transform the entire look of your home. They have a website where you can check out the designs and place an order too.

5. Amar Handicraft

Amar Handicrafts in Banjara Hills is one of the oldest furniture stores to make handcrafted, custom furniture that makes a space all the more charming. With attention to detail, the furniture has both contemporary as well as old-worlds designs. Think carved garden furniture or an old ornate sofa frames. Although the store deals with all types of wood, but most orders are for teakwood which is used for both furniture and carvings.

6. Ancient India

Ancient India in Banjara Hills stays true to its Indian roots by handcrafting timeless furniture. Find elephants embracing your coffee tables, buffet cabinet and hand-painted carved drawers. It's almost like you're walking back in time when you enter into this store. They have antique-style furniture and home decor accents too.

7. The Antique Loft

The Antique Loft is a 25-year-old iconic shop located in Banjara Hills. Known for restoring antique furniture, these awesome greats are experts in crafting wooden furniture. Whether you're looking for an old-style Pandirimancham or wine holders, they cover all the wonderful spectrum. We love their carvings and you should definitely check out the bookstore.

8. Inheritance

When you walk into the studio, the soft lighting and bespoke home decor items that are plucked straight out of a Ruskin Bond's book will leave an impression on you. Each floor has a diverse section in variety of items, and for the convenience of the customers, they are decorated in the form of living-room and bedroom format for you to visualize your space. But if you're looking for more, they are also have experience in interior designing and can transform your home to your liking.

[akikomatsuda]

CV

■Education

2014 Bachelor of Crafts, Major in Ceramics, Tama Art University, Tokyo, Japan

■Exhibitions

-       “Ash, Ember, Flame a Japanese kiln in Oxford”, Embassy of Japan, London (2021-2022) 

-        "The Model Room exhibition ” at ANAGRA, Hanzomon, Tokyo (2019)

-        “Independent Ceramics Market”, at Rich Mix London, UK (2019)

-        “Akopottery” at Daitokai, Tokyo (2018)

-        “Liflower” at Aquvii daikanyama,Tokyo (2017)

-        “LOVE THE MATERIAL” at Art Square Aoyama,Tokyo (2016)

-        “16th Tokyo-New York Friendship Ceramic Competition”, NY (2016)

-        “New Year Selection 2016” at Gallery ART POINT, Ginza, Tokyo (2016)

-        “Pop Up Store” at Used Clothing Store STRANGER, Tokyo (2015)

-        “Shimokita-jin exhibition” at Gendai heights, Tokyo (2015)

-        “Day dream pot exhibition” at Light Up Coffee, Tokyo (2015)

-        “Disco Teca Marina exhibition 2015” at Grassroots, Yokohama (2015)

-        Gravity free presents “Arth camp 2014”, Live painting at Mountain Park Tsunan, Niigata (2014)

-        East West Art Award 2014” Encouragement prize at La Galleria, London, UK (2014)

-        “100 Artist Exhibition”, at Ouchi Gallery, Brooklyn, NY (2014)

-        Free paper dictionary presents “Dictionary exhibition “ at Dictionary club, Tokyo (2014)

-        Tama Art University graduation works exhibition at Spiral garden, Tokyo (2014)

-        Free paper dictionary presents “Dictionary exhibition “at Dictionary club, Tokyo (2013)

-        “Omotesando-Convini exhibiton” at Gallery Kowa,Tokyo (2013)

-        Tama Art University group exhibition “Hajimemashi-Ten” , Tokyo (2010)

■Workshops

2023 / 2022  Kintsugi workshop 

-Studio Pottery London 

-Soho House London 

-Dundee Ceramics Workshop

2022 / 2021 Summer Workshop at Pan-Technicon, Knightsbridge, London, UK

-SAKE/TEACUP MAKING WITH AKIKO MATSUDA FOR ADULTS

-SHISA MAKING WITH AKIKO MATSUDA FOR ADULTS

-CERAMICS WITH AKIKO MATSUDA FOR CHILDREN    

■Works History

2023 Dundee Ceramics Workshop, Pottery Instructor - Taster classes, Dundee, Scotland. UK

2022-2023 Skandihus, Pottery Instructor - 6weeks course, London. UK

2022-2023 Columbia Road Clay, Pottery Instructor - Taster classes & 4weeks course, London, UK

2021-2022 Cernamic, Pottery Instructor - Taster classes & 5weeks course, London, UK

2019-2020 The Kiln Rooms - Work exchange program, London, UK

2019-2020 Clover Lee’s studio, Pottery Instructor 12weeks Intermediate course, London, UK

2019-2020 Gallery Eclectic, Gallery staff, London, UK

2018-2021 Kite Studios, Pottery Instructor - Taster classes & weekly course, London, UK

2017-2018 Conde Nast Japan, Conde Nast studio assistant, Tokyo, Japan

2015-2016 Facebook Japan, Tokyo, Japan

��Licence  

Art teacher license (Junior high school, High school) in Japan 

[jeremystrele]

Check-Mate! How To Bring On-Trend Stripes + Checks Into Your Home

Check-Mate! How To Bring On-Trend Stripes + Checks Into Your Home

Interiors

Lauren Li

Steph + Holly’s family home in Kew. Photo – Caitlin Mills for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

‘The Venetian’ chequerboard rug by Tali Roth Interiors.

The ‘Oblique’ table in the Transcendence range by Kelly Wearstler.

Sarah Ellison‘s ‘Lan Banda’ screen in Bismarck House. Photo – Dave Wheeler courtesy of Sarah Ellison.

‘Slow Beam’ house by Hearth Studio in Hobart uses clashing patterned carpets to great effect! Photo – Pier Carthew.

Neutral spaces are calming and can help us recharge when we’re feeling depleted. However, pared back spaces usually need a little lift, otherwise they can feel flat and dull. Adding pattern is the perfect way to energise a space.

Enter stripes and checks! These unflappable, geometric staples are a safe way to add a bold, striking element without tipping the balance out. If florals, animal print or organic patterns are stretching your aesthetic just slightly too far, then checks and stripes are the perfect alternative. Having said that, a graphic expression suits an exuberant maximalist interior just as well as a minimalist space!

Here’s a few tips for incorporating them into your space:

Placement

If pattern isn’t usually your jam, think again about including a striped or check rug into the space. The geometric nature of these patterns can instantly pull a space together. It and create visual interest to a room without being overpowering.

If you want the to make a statement but don’t want to be too dramatic about it, then a throw a few gorgeous striped cushions on your sofa – the impact is real!

Think outside the living room and add some fabulous checks to the bedroom. A check quilt cover is a fabulous way to dive in and enjoy this trend. Adding some check towels to the bathroom feels like you’ve given it a makeover.

Contrasting

Keep in mind some contrasting scale, otherwise the patterns will complete with each other. For example, if there is a narrow stripe patterned quilt cover, then choose a fat bold check. That way there is contrast between the patterns and they sit well together.

Colours

The key to mixing in a stripe or check is to stick with a limited colour palette. Mixing stripes and check patterns adds life and a joyful tone to a room however when all of the patterns are different colours, it can look chaotic.

For a calm room, stick to stripes and checks in muted colours like nude, ochre and moss green that have less contrast. If you’re looking to create an exciting, joyful space then look to how the Memphis designers used bold colours such as yellow, lilac and cobalt blue.

Keep It In Check

Unless you’re going for a maximalist vibe, be careful of overdoing one pattern. If you’re considering a checked rug, then steer clear of also using checks in your soft furnishings, or furniture. And too many stripes – such as striped wallpaper combined with striped curtains – can create a dizzying effect in a room. So – focus on one or two key pieces which add impact, and leave it at that!

Chequerboard cushion in wisteria, citron and tan from Bonnie and Neil.

A variety of original + colourful stripes and checks from Annie Coop! Photo – Lillie Thompson.

The ‘Oblique’ furniture range from the Transcendence collection by Kelly Wearstler. Photo – Kelly Wearstler.

1. Bonnie and Neil

TDF faves Bonnie and Neil design and screen print all their textiles by hand at their workshop in Reservoir. These checked cushions come in on-trend wisteria, tan or citron shades for the perfect punchy addition to any space.

2. Annie Coop

Shortlisted in the Textile category of TDF Design Awards 2020, emerging textile designer Annie Coop makes gorgeous, colourful prints inspired by Spain. She translates her stripy designs to wallpaper if soft furnishings don’t quite fit!

3. Kelly Wearstler

American interior design wonder Kelly Wearstler has recently debuted a range of bold, striped timber furniture.  Go big with a dramatic dining table, or bold but understated with a stool or bench.

The ‘Takara’ cushions from OYOY Living and Design available locally at Sisalla. Photo – OYOY Living and Design.

The ‘Toppu’ collection of ceramics by OYOY Living and Design available locally at Sisalla. Photo – OYOY Living and Design.

The ‘La Banda’ side table by Sarah Ellison. Photo – Dave Wheeler courtesy of Sarah Ellison.

Buchanan Studio‘s signature squishy armchair! Photo – courtesy of Buchanan Studio.

4+5. Oyoy

The Toppu range of handmade ceramic vases, trays and pots from Danish brand Oyoy Living Design come in soft caramel and rose stripes for a more subtle addition. Perfect next to their selection of diagonally banded cushions in muted shades! Available locally at Sisalla.

6. Sarah Ellison

The La Banda furniture collection from Byron Bay-based designer Sarah Ellison sees a screen, console and side table made from ash and walnut timber wrapped in stripes of earthy tones.

7. Buchanan Studio

This plush, squishy armchair from British makers Buchanan Studio is covered with striped Belgian linen screen-printed in London. Definition statement piece!

Baina towels are THE cult checked accessory! Photo – courtesy of Baina.

Handmade ceramics by Lucy Tolan. Photo – Shelley Horan. Art Direction + Styling by Mildred & Duck.

8. Baina

It wouldn’t be a round-up about stripes and checks if it didn’t include Baina! The cult New Zealand bath and beach towel burst onto the scene early last year with its finger firmly on the pulse of this oncoming trend. Choose from a range of patterns in bright or muted colours.

9. Lucy Tolan

Newly graduated student ceramicist Lucy Tolan makes ceramic vessels from porcelain paper clay and handpaints them with chunky checks. She even breaks her glazed forms in to pieces and glues them back together with the seams between each shard forming a fine textured grid. Her bold colours make these pieces a statement choice!

Each Curio blanket is made from 1.9 kilos of Australian merino wool and made locally in Melbourne by one of the last remaining knitting factories. Photo courtesy of Curio.

Softedge Studio ceramics handmade and painted in Byron Bay. Photo – Layla Cluer.

10. Curio Practice

Curio blankets are bringing checks back, big time! Their super soft blankets are manufactured in one of the last remaining local knitting factories in Melbourne. Each colourful design is made with 1.9 kilograms of high-grade Australian merino wool.

11. SoftEdge

Quite possibly the breakout ceramicist of 2020, Layla Cluer (aka Softedge Studio) handprints her wavy, checked platters, bowls and plates from her studio in Byron.

Left: The young couple behind P0ly handmakes their tiles plinths, side tables, coffee tables and consoles at their house in Northcote! Photo – P0ly. Right: Lucy Montgomery brings sophisticated Sydney coastal chic to the table with her range of classic striped homewares. Photo – Dave Wheeler.

Left: These brown and white porcelain vessels are made by a ceramicist in NYC but stocked locally at Pan After. Photo – Pan After. Right: Thekla table linens are handmade in Sydney from deadstock, vintage or small batch fabrics. Photo – Thekla.

12. P0ly

P0ly consists of a young couple who used to work in fashion and gardening respectively and now handmake these cult-status tiled side tables, consoles and coffee tables from their Northcote home. Customise the coloured grout for a fun detail!

13. Lucy Montgomery

This Sydney-based stylist, designer and editor has drawn on her 10 years of experience in magazine publishing to create a new line of timeless homewares. Lucy Montgomery cushions, pillows and bedsheets are sophisticated, classic and even a little bit nautical, for a simple coastal look.

14. Mellow Ceramics

Melbourne ex-pat Elise G Wilken makes these beautiful porcelain vessels in NYC, but they can be purchased locally at Pan After. The brown and cream colours make for an earthy, less vibrant option.

15. Thekla

Thekla table linens are handmade in Sydney from deadstock, vintage or small batch fabrics. Tablecloths and napkins in gingham or a French-style farmhouse stripe are the ultimate summery, European vibe.