#handcrafted wooden chair

[craftedproducts]

Elevate Your Interior Design With Affordable And High-Quality Modern Wooden Chairs Online

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[noisett-e]

Home Office Surrey Example of a small farmhouse built-in desk limestone floor study room design with white walls

[busy-baker]

Sending the Astarion x reader thing where reader gets him a mirror backed with something other than silver so he can finally see himself!!

It would be so fluffy and sweet, finally being able to style his hair properly and admire himself 😔😔

(I wanna give him a lil kiss kiss on his entire face <33)

Oh this will be fun! @roguishcat is also doing this prompt so it will be interesting to see our differences! ☺️

GN!reader x Astarion

Your hand swiped a torn cloth on the reflective surface in front of you. You dug into every crevice of the ornately carved wood surrounding it. You refused to leave even a speck of dust behind.

For nearly a year, you had perused through the market, searching for someone to handcraft what you had in mind. It couldn’t be too small but not too gargantuan so it would fit in the bedroom. It needed to be grand and eye catching but still fit in with the decor of your home. Nothing too gaudy but be the only one of its kind.

Your search ended with a satisfied smile and considerably less gold in your pocket, but it was all worth it. Six months and many dodged questions later, your gift survived transportation and now rested against your bedroom wall, waiting for your love to return.

For centuries, Astarion had suffered without the ability to see himself. With silver backed mirrors and his vampiric curse, his appearance was lost to him. There had been portraits commissioned and hours spent telling him how beautiful he was, but none of that held a candle to possibly seeing his true form looking back at him and copying his movements.

The times had shifted though. The modern age had begun anew and with that came aluminum. Cheaper, plentiful, and as far as you knew, wasn’t on the list of vampiric weaknesses. An aluminum backed mirror was a chance you were willing to take. Anything for Astarion to glimpse at himself once again.

Over the years, he had stopped glancing when passing by in clothing shops or peering behind you as you fiddled with your own hair during the morning. It was a lost cause. You could only hope this time it wouldn’t be.

Hours ticked by as you anxiously waited. You paced across your wooden floors, read several chapters of a novel, and shifted the mirror to different areas more times than you could count. Your fingers twisted together as your nervousness increased. It was agonizing to wait for so long.

Just as you were about to give up and toss a cover over the gift, the front door creaked open. You quickly and quietly went to the chair at your desk, sitting and appearing busy with a pencil and paper.

“Darling?” Astarion called to you.

“I-I’m in the bedroom, my love!” You cursed yourself for stuttering. You sucked in a breath to calm your racing heart.

His footsteps approached, the soles of his shoes tapping rhythmically across the floor.

You looked up as he leaned in the doorway. His jacket was tossed over his shoulder and tie was loosened, a few buttons undone to reveal his chest.

He sauntered in and went to you, a gentle kiss placed on your forehead as you turned to face him. He was blocking the view of the mirror. You tried to subtly shift to see behind him but there was no way of doing so without him noticing.

“How was your evening, my sweet?”

“Oh, uneventful,” you lied. “How were your clients today?”

“Picky, as usual.” He shifted away and your eyes darted to the mirror.

A gasp left your lips. It was only a piece but you caught sight of a few silver curls as he walked by. It worked. It had well and truly worked.

Tears began to brim and spill down your cheeks. You sniffled and swiped at your face with your palms. Astarion’s head turned to you from where he sat on the bed, removing his shoes. His eyebrows furrowed and he stood, going to you and crouching by your legs. His pallid hands came up and grasped yours.

“What’s brought this on? Has something happened today?” He asked, thumbs caressing your knuckles.

You shook your head, letting the emotion flow through you. You slid from the chair and dropped to your knees in front of him, pulling him into an embrace. Your head leaned on his shoulder, watching in the mirror as your tear stained cheek rested on the fabric of his shirt.

He was fully there, arms wrapped around you. His hands clutched at your back and eyes closed as he soothed you.

“Darling, please tell me what’s wrong?”

You pulled back and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Your hands came up to his face and you leaned your forehead to his. Crimson eyes met yours and more tears fell as you thought about him seeing his own eyes for the first time.

“Nothing is wrong. Nothing at all,” you told him. “In fact, everything in this moment is perfectly right.”

“What do you-”

His words stopped as the hands that held his face gently turned his head and he saw the mirror, reflecting him back in all his glory.

He stared for several minutes, quietly observing and then he looked back to you.

“Do you…I mean, would you mind if I…”

“Go ahead, my love. It’s all yours.”

You watched as he pushed up from the floor and hesitantly stepped towards the mirror. His hands reached out. They traced along the frame at first, following the intricate details of peacocks and vines. Then, they grazed over the surface, as if he could reach in and touch himself. He left faint fingerprints where you had spent so much time meticulously cleaning, but it didn’t matter. He could smear his hands over it as much as he liked. It was his.

His hands touched everywhere. His felt the softness of his curls, the fine lines of his face, the broadness of his shoulders. He opened his mouth, tilting left and right while he poked at his fangs. His fingers pulled down his eyelids. He was lost in the pools of red that followed his every move.

You sat in silence. You knew it would take him some time. You wanted him to observe every detail of himself that you had the luxury of many, many years of memorizing.

After almost an hour, he turned to you. You waited for him to speak, but instead he rushed to you. You were pulled up and his lips crushed to yours. His fingers wound in your hair and you grabbed onto his forearms for support.

You were both breathless when he pulled away. His smile was wide and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“How? Is that why you’ve been so secretive?” He asked, a silver brow raising.

“It’s made with aluminum instead of silver,” you said and then playfully poked his chest. “And yes! I know how nosy you can be! It wasn’t easy holding that in for so long!”

He kissed you again. A finger came up to tap your nose. “You clever little thing.”

You beamed with pride at him. A sense of relief washed over you, knowing that he now had something that he once thought would be lost forever.

“Do you believe your beautiful now?”

Astarion waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, I already know I am, but it doesn’t hurt to have solid proof.”

“Well, what would you like to do now since you’re finished fawning over yourself?”

He yanked you closer to him, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. His mouth dipped close to your ear, a smirk gracing his lips.

“What do you say we move the mirror to the front of the bed and spend the rest of the night fawning over each other?”

You giggled at his request. It seemed like he wouldn’t be the only one enjoying his reflection for the night.

[roxygen22]

Still Here (Chapter 6)

Summary: Dinner with Timothée reveals feelings.

"There is something I want to show you."

It was Friday, so your curiosity over his words could finally be sated. Timothée was due to pick you up about 6 o'clock so the two of you could go out for dinner in the closest city of any appreciable size, Hartley. Unsure of where exactly where you were going, you opted for a cute blouse, jeans, and cowboy boots.

Madison was cozy on the couch with her grandparents with a bowl of popcorn in her lap when you walked out of your room. She had convinced them to watch the new Wonka movie with her while you were away. You hugged them all and kissed Madison on the head.

"Be good, do as you're told, and remember to brush your teeth."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mom."

"Love you!" you called back to her as you grabbed your things and walked to the door. Right as you looked out the window, you saw Timothée's blue truck pull up. You locked the door and skipped down the steps. It felt like you were in high school all over again. You were all smiles as you walked quickly to the passenger side.

"Hi!" you said cheerily as you climbed in.

Timothée looked up and down at your outfit. "Howdy," he replied through a grin.

"Hey now, I can get right back out of this truck if you're going to make fun of me," you sassed.

He held up his hands to feign surrender. "No, no. It's a good look! I swear!"

You playfully popped him on the arm. "So where are we going?"

He put the truck in gear and moved along. "There is an Italian restaurant I love to visit when I'm in town. Thought we could go there."

"And?"

"And what?" He clamped down his lips to prevent himself from smiling.

"There was something you wanted to show me. Surely it wasn't an Italian restaurant."

"Oh yeah, that. Yes, definitely that, too," he said with an exaggerated nod.

"What is it?!"

"You'll have to wait about..." He looked over at the truck's clock. "30 minutes to find out. We'll stop there before dinner so you can actually enjoy the food instead of wonder."

Timothée drove through Hartley's downtown square, pulled up in front of a closed shop, and turned off the truck. "We're here!" he said excitedly.

You looked around. "Ooo...kay. Where is 'here'?"

"Well, come on, get out of the truck."

"But Timothée, everything on this street is already closed for the night."

He held up a key. "Yep!"

He walked to a storefront and opened it up. You followed him through the door. "Wait here," he instructed. He walked to the back and flipped on the lights. You found yourself surrounded by the most beautiful wooden furniture you had ever laid eyes on.

"Welcome to my store."

"Yours. This is yours?" You spun around to take it all in.

"Yes. I made all of this."

"You what? Oh, wow. Mr. McDowell from wood shop would be so proud."

Timothée chuckled. "He was, actually. Bought a chair for his deck before he passed. Your mother bought a piece, too."

"She did?" You went through a mental list of all the furniture in the house as you walked through the showroom. "The porch swing?"

"Yep."

"I love that swing. Even more so now." You fingers gingerly grazed the handcrafted dining table next to you. "It's beautiful."

"Yes," Timothée said, not looking at the table, but at you. He cleared his throat when you turned and made eye contact. "Thank you."

"Where did you learn how to do this? Let me guess, another hobby you took up after you came back from Texas?" you inquired.

He shrugged. "Something like that. I needed to keep my hands busy. I turned the barn on my parents' land into my shop, and I sell out here. More traffic."

"What took you to Texas, anyway?"

Timothée's stomach growled. "Maybe we should discuss over dinner."

You stifled a giggle. "Fair enough. But don't think you are getting out of talking about yourself that easily."

The two of you loaded back up in the truck and drove a couple of blocks away to the Italian restaurant Timothée raved about. After you were seated on the patio and placed your orders, you set your chin in your hand and stared at him.

"Now spill." You grinned and waggled your eyebrows.

Timothée smiled. "Where should I start?"

"Well, the last I time I saw you before running into you at the grocery store was graduation. How about there?"

"As you know, I still hadn't figured out what I wanted to do. I hadn't made any plans for college, so I continued working at the hardware store for a while. That got boring. Sure as hell didn't want to do that for the rest of my life. So I started taking some auto mechanic classes at the vocational school here in Hartley."

"Is that where you learned to fix up the truck?"

"Yep. But that didn't seem like the right path, either. I felt...lost. Like I said the other day, once I got over the hurt of you leaving, I began to understand that you had the right idea all along. I even seriously considered giving you a call to see if your invitation still stood, but by the time I worked up the nerve, I learned from your mother that you were getting married. I didn't want to mess that up for you."

He paused when the server came by with the food. You both thanked her and took up your utensils. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. He considered coming all the way out to California. For me.

"What happened then?"

Timothée continued his story between bites. "Well, I figured I shouldn't waste the momentum to leave this place, so I just got in the truck in left. I held down some odd and end jobs, camped out in state parks or hotels until I got to the oil fields in Texas. Found a steady job and set myself up pretty well there for a few years until Mom died. I came back to help my dad keep up with the land and the house. He's not in great health, either."

"I'm so sorry, Timmy."

He paused, fork mid-air. "You haven't called me that in ages."

"Oh, sorr-"

"No, don't be. I- I've missed it." He half-smiled.

You blushed, dropped your eyes to your plate, and cleared your throat. "Any...significant others along the way?"

"I was engaged for a bit when I was in Texas. She was a nice girl, but I broke it off because it just didn't feel right. That was right before Mom passed. Since then, between work and taking care of my dad, I haven't had much time for, uh, exploring."

"You two ready for dessert?" the server asked as she came back around.

Timothée looked from the server to you. "The tiramisu here is amazing! Want to split one? Dessert's on me."

"That sounds divine."

With the previous candor interrupted, the two of you idly chatted while you waited for dessert. You asked after some of your high school classmates. He asked you about college life in California. Timothée offered you the first bite of the tiramisu when the server dropped it off.

"Oh, wow - that IS amazing!" You covered your mouth with your hand so as to not reveal the half-chewed cake.

Timothée chuckled. "Told you," he bragged as he popped a bite into his own mouth. You continued to take turns taking slivers of the cake until it disappeared.

You leaned back in your chair. "Mmm. That was so good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

You settled the tab for the food, and he did so for the dessert. You left the restaurant and slowly ambled side by side back to the truck.

"Timmy?" You stopped short on the sidewalk in front of the truck, forcing him to turn back to look at you. "Thank you for making this whole...situation...more bearable. I can't imagine how lonely I would be right now if I hadn't bumped into you at the store."

Timothée stepped closer to you. He brushed a hair behind your ear that had been loosened by the wind. Your heart hammered at his touch and you felt heat flush your cheeks. He nudged your chin with his index finger so he could look you in the eyes.

"I should have followed you when you asked me."

<><><><><>

Chapter 7

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess @bluizh

[ceramiccity]

Rustic Wooden Chair Design

Rustic wooden chair with backrest, vintage furniture design, handcrafted solid wood chair. Follow Ceramic City on Tumblr Source: https://soudasouda.tumblr.com/post/747411160957124608/rustic-wooden-chair-design-follow-souda-on-tumblr

[handcraftedloghomes]

Throwback Thursday to this gorgeous, rustic dining area in a Cascade Handcrafted log home built over 15+ years ago. With exposed log walls, a sturdy wooden table, and chairs, it creates a cozy and inviting atmosphere perfect for family gatherings. Soft lighting, from an iron candle chandelier, and natural elements like ceramic accents and woven textiles enhance the room's timeless appeal.

photo: karenrose.photography

[pinewaterbacc]

With the party over and done with, the Haynes-Richardses realised that they needed to update the lovely nursery they'd just had built. They all walked into town, with the first stop being Oscar's Fine Furniture.

"Hey Oscar, these are lovely beds!" Bradley complimented his friend and neighbour. "Do you have any matching desks? Our daughter's just aged up and she'll need a desk in her room."

"I don't actually; that's a really good point. I'll start making and stocking some in future!"

Bradley picked out a bed and continued looking around.

He noticed that Oscar was now stocking handcrafted instruments and decided to purchase one. He knew that Jessie's hobby wasn't Music and Dance as she had had a little xylophone as a toddler but hadn't shown any interest in it, but it would be good to have music in the house anyway.

He also purchased a wooden easel for Jessie, in case her hobby was Arts and Crafts like him, and a small table and chair which would have to make do in place of a desk.

"Did you find everything okay?" asked Oscar as he checked out.

"I did, thanks! I bought one of your tables instead of a desk."

"Yeah, thanks again for that idea!"

[nessiesspeakeasy]

Kinktober Day 18: Handcrafted (Age Difference)

Lori, alone for ten years, finds new life when a dragonkin, thirty years her junior, takes a strong interest in her.

~~~

Rated Mature. Original Dragonborn Character(s), Original Human Character(s), Age Difference, About thirty years difference, Two Dicks, Fluff, Condoms, telepathy.

You can read this on my AO3.

Lori sipped her morning coffee on her front porch, watching the townsfolk begin their day. They waved at the fifty-six year old as they walked by. Thomas stopped by like he did every day, bringing her her favorite donut.

“Morning, Lori. The market’s finally up.”

“Oh?” She looked around at her garden, full of different, exotic plants and flowers. “That’s wonderful. I’ll go visit them today, I need a refresher course on my flowers, a couple didn’t make it from last year.”

He waved her off and she ate her donut in peace while she finished her coffee. The day was bright and sunny and beckoned her out of her little house. She looked down the road and saw, in the distance, the canopy tops. She washed her cup and went into her bedroom, deciding to change into a sundress. The drawer of the dresser fell out, the wooden tracks completely shot. Lori almost dropped it, several dresses spilled onto the floor. She sighed and spent the next few minutes gently settling it back in and folding the dresses back in. She really needed to get a new one. She pulled the top half her hair back loosely and put on her favorite sun hat. She paused and went back to her small vanity on the dresser. She put on a simple necklace and matching earrings. Why shouldn’t she dress up to have fun?

The walk to the street market was short. The warm sun and light breeze filled her with joy. She greeted her neighbors who ran their own stand. She had a few mesh bags she put their fruit and vegetables in. Her favorite shop with exotic plants was her longest stop. She asked them about proper care again, wondering what she’d done wrong with her failed flowers. They suggested a different kind that she didn’t have yet. They were loaded into a cardboard box and she thanked them before moving on.

A sweet pastry in hand, Lori passed by an area with wooden furniture. She went over, putting the rest of the pastry in her mouth and wiping off any leftovers. She shifted the box of plants to her other side so she could touch the wood grain with a clean hand. There were tables, chairs, bed frames and dressers. Lori wandered over to those, finding one just a little larger and longer than her own. He stopped at her waist and had a larger mirror on top.

As she opened and closed the drawers, impressed at how smooth it was, a dragonkin came over to her. His spines and horns were brighter and smaller than older ones, but his horns were fully formed, meaning he was a young adult.

“Hello!” He said, towering over her by at least a foot. It would have been intimidating if his charm hadn’t softened his features. “Can I help you with anything? I can hold those flowers while you look. I’m Enox.”

She smiled at him, taken by his strong build and beautiful orange scales that shifted to a rich red. Why not? Why not let the handsome dragonkin help her out? “Thank you! I’m Lori.” She handed him the flowers. “These are beautiful pieces!”

“Thank you, my kin and I made these together.”

“Which one’s yours?”

He nodded to the one she stood at. “I’m very proud of this one.”

“You should be! It’s gorgeous. I was just thinking I need to replace my old one. The tracks are shot and the drawers are warped and having a larger mirror would be nice.” She eyed the price tag. It was underselling for the amount of precise craftsmanship. She had enough savings that she’d be able to afford it at the proper amount it should be sold for.

“I can’t think of a better person for it to go to, a beautiful piece should belong to an even more beautiful woman.” He grinned.

She laughed. “No need to butter me up, I was already going to purchase it.”

“I was only speaking the truth. How do you want to pay for it? Do you have anyone who can help you take it home?”

“Card and no, I’m afraid I’m all alone. I’m sure I can pay some of the younger boys to move it for me.”

“No, I can move it for you.”

Her brows rose. “Don’t you need to be here, helping customers instead of old women?”

“Do I want to be waiting around for someone to critique our work who has no experience in woodworking or help out a beautiful woman who appreciates art because she is art?” He clicked his tongue. “It’s a no brainer for me.”

Lori could feel herself blushing. “Well, if you insist!” It had been years since anyone had cared to flirt with her. Her husband had long since passed and any positive energy from her kids had moved with them out of state. The closest she got was Thomas’ donut.

He led her to the kiosk where she paid for the dresser, adding in a five hundred dollar tip.

Enox’s eyes widened, his tail began to wave around emphatically. “Fifteen hundred dollars! That’s too much!”

She waved him away. “I’m paying well under what it’s worth already. Your work is wonderful.”

The older dragonkin nodded humbly. “I admit I told him to undersell it since it’s his first piece he made himself. I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

He reached into the cash box for the keys. “I’m borrowing the truck, dad.”

His dad eyed him. “Don’t take too long.”

Enox scoffed and set to work moving the piece in sections onto the truck. Watching Enox lift everything himself, arms and back flexing with enormous strength was a sight that kept her attention. She tried to be subtle, only showing small glimpses of appreciation. He loaded up the flowers into the back seat and held the door open for her. She climbed in with minimal effort, which she was proud of.

She held the door open for him, which let her a little more openly marvel at his strength. He put the dresser together in her living room before taking a property look around her small home. “Wow! This place looks-”

“Like an old lady lives here?”

He shook his head. “Like whoever lives here loves it and takes care of it.” His tail patted the walls. “I can feel it.”

“Really?” She looked around. “Well, this place does have a lot of good memories to it, though I worry now that it’s just me, if I have enough love for it.”

“You do.” He winked.

She smiled, her heart warming.

He looked around. “So, where is this going?”

“Oh! Right! Uhm, right in here.”

Enox followed her into her bedroom. A queen sat in the middle, though, it had been ten years since anyone else had used the other side. In that time, she’d made the room all hers, which she left a twinge of embarrassment now that someone else was in it. She’d brought plants and little cottagecore decorations to make it feel whimsical, but it was suddenly feeling so childish.

“Excuse the decisions, I know it's childish.”

He gave the room a once over. “I think it’s nice. Very natural.”

She laughed. “Now, I know you’re just being polite!”

Enox shook his head, which almost scraped against the roof. “I love nature. I work with it everyday. It feels like a fairytale in here.” His eyes landed on the dresser. “Is that it?”

She looked at the sad excuse of a dresser. “Yes, it was my childhood dresser and it’s finally showing its age.”

Enox nodded, his hand feeling over the top. “What are you going to do with it?”

“I don’t know, really. I can’t think of anyone who’d want it, so if you’d like to call dibs, be my guest.”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah? I’ll absolutely take it! I can fix it up and bring it back to life.”

She smiled. “I’d love that.” She took a deep breath. “Well, I should empty these out for you. Would you like something to eat or drink while you wait?”

“I’ll have some coffee.”

In the kitchen, she heated up the water and cleaned out her french press. “How strong do you like it?”

“Very strong.”

She nodded and poured several spoonfuls, looking up at him. He leaned forward and took her hand in his and scooped out a few more. His hands felt sturdy around hers. They made eye contact and she felt herself flush. 

She let go of the scoop in the coffee bag, resting her hand in his. Her heart fluttered wildly. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Twenty-five.” His thumb rubbed circles in her palm. “Plenty old enough to find your company exhilarating.”

“That’s thirty-one years.” She wasn’t sure if he meant what she thought it did, so she sounded more amused than careful.

He hummed and brought her hand to his lips, kissing them. “I don’t mind if you don’t. I love being around priceless treasures.”

She laughed and huffed. “Oh for heaven sakes! You’ve had me blushing stupidly since we first met.” She patted her cheek with the back of her hand.

Enox grinned wide. “Yeah, I love how it lights up your face.”

She moved away and grabbed the pot of boiling water and poured it over the large amount of coffee to steep. “I suppose I should go clear out those drawers…”

“If you want to. I wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with you.”

Her breath came out light. “And just what did you have in mind?”

Enox went to her and gently removed her sun hat. “Well, not to be too bold, but I’d love to kiss you.”

She looked up at him, the last bit of reality clutching to her sense and reason. “You’re not just… Trying to make an old woman feel attractive are you?” Her words were breathy, scared and hopeful at the same time. She didn’t know what she wanted the outcome to be.

He held her hands, looking at them compared to his rougher ones. “Don’t short change yourself. You’re very pretty and very sexy. I don’t make a habit of flirting with everyone just to get a rise out of them. I like you and would like to get to know you.”

Even if it wasn’t true, what was one moment with a younger man? What did she have to lose? Nothing anymore, it was just her now. “Alright!”

He wasted no time kissing her. She gasped, gripping his arms to sturdy herself. She was moved to the wall where she was pressed against it. Her arms wrapped around his neck, dragging her to her tiptoes. He kissed her in a way that made her melt.

“Can I touch you?”

Her breath was shaking as she nodded. “Yes! Why not? Do what you’d like!”

A low rumble rolled up his throat. “Don’t say that, that’s dangerous.” His hands snaked under her dress, gripping her thighs and lifting her off the ground so she was more level with him. Her back rested against the wall as her legs wrapped around his waist.

“How?”

He kissed her. “Dragonkin can take that and make that mean anything. Sure, I can make love with you, but that could also mean move in or claim you…”

Her heart thundered against her chest at the idea of that. “I… I see…” Her legs were spread wide, pressed against his crotch. He kissed her chest, long tongue slipping under the neckline to her nipples. She gasped, feeling herself grow wet and wanting. “C-claim an old woman? Wouldn’t that… Wouldn’t that be taboo?”

Enox huffed out of his nose, the heat almost too much on her chest. His tongue flicked her nipple while wrapping around her breast. 

I love your age, Lori. Age is only a problem when one half can’t understand what any of it means. If we both want it and understand what it means, I don’t see why it should matter.

She realized he was talking to her through her mind, his mouth still occupied. Her body was electric, wanting more from him than he was already giving. She rocked her hips, the friction making her shiver. Enox’s tail slid under her panties, hissing in delight when her wetness coated the tip. It pulled her panties to the side. Between plating, two cocks poked through, rubbing against her slit. She moaned loudly, turning to putty. 

Enox made the same throat noise. So soft, so beautiful…

She gasped, her chest tightening at his kind words even as pleasure rippled through her.

Do you want me to put on a condom?

“I… I don’t have any…”

I do.

“I-” she moaned, rubbing against his cocks as best she could off the floor and pinned to the wall. Enox stilled, removing his tongue to kiss her neck. She blinked and breathed and finally nodded.

He set her down, making sure she was steady on her feet before pulling two condoms out. Lori watched. Away from his strength and intensity, she began to doubt his reason for pursuing this. Pursuing her. She glanced at the mirror of the dresser that waited for her. She was disheveled. She went to it, combing out her hair in controlled panic. What must she look like to him?

He turned to her, eyeing her through the mirror. He went to her, saunter intimidating, having much more confidence than Lori ever felt she had. His hands wrapped around her waist and he kissed her neck. She leaned into it, but some of her carefree demeanor had wilted.

“Would you feel more comfortable on the bed?”

She winced. “Is that too plain?”

“Nothing about you is plain.”

She laughed and began to feel the energy between them reignite just as bright as it once had. He led her to the bedroom, laying her on the bed. He kissed her, hands roaming to cup her breasts. Her legs spread wide to accommodate his large frame, feeling small under him. He rubbed against her as he kissed over her body, savoring her as best he could before she grew impatient and ground against him.

He pressed against her, slipping his bottom cock in while the top one rubbed against her clit. She moaned loudly, back arching. He pulled her dress down and sucked her breasts into his mouth. Enox’s tongue wrapped around it, squeezing and rubbing her nipple.

It wasn’t long before Lori was pushed enough to whisper. “Harder?”

Enox rumbled in his throat, picking up a pace that floored Lori. He did not hold back, thrusting hard against her. She became a mass of screams, gripping onto as much of him as she could, muttering “YES!” over and over. Their tongues collided as she came. It drove her dragonkin lover wild. His hands gripped her hips, securing her tighter to him as he thrust faster, forgetting himself. The bed rocked dangerously, but all either cared about was how close he was and how close she was to another orgasm.

He bellowed low in his throat, vibrating through himself to her as he took a final plunge and came, digging deep into her. She ground on him, grasping for her own orgasm one last time. She breathed, vision blurry. Enox’s head was pressed against her collar bone, quivering as she slowly stopped grinding on him.

You’re so beautiful.

The awe in his thought did not escape her. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be wanted and she didn’t want this young dragonkin to see her become a blubbering mess.

He went to kiss her and then stopped and she knew she’d been had. “Did I do something wrong?”

The tears overflowed. “Goodness, no! Don’t mind me, really, just-”

“Please don’t.” His plea was gentle and almost sad. “You keep putting your age down like it makes you hideous.” He slowly pulled out of her. She sat up as he pulled her legs over his lap and rubbed them. “You’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen. I love your age, it makes you more beautiful to me than anyone else.”

Her chest tightened again and she laughed nervously. “You keep saying that and I’ll cry even more.”

“Is that why you’re crying?” He reached out a hand to her.

She took it, letting him rub the back of it with his thumb. She nodded. “It just got the best of me, that’s all… I didn’t realize how long it’d been since I’d been intimate. I didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

He kissed the palm of her hand. “I don’t think you did. It’s important to be open about these things. If you need a little space, we can have that coffee now?”

“Oh! I bet it’s cold!”

Enox got off the bed and helped her stand. He kissed her hand again, eyes watching her reaction. He grinned when it still made her flush.

They settled on the porch to enjoy their cups. Enox sat in a chair kitty-corner to her while she curled into a chair, tucking her legs to her side. As relaxed as she felt, she was still too vulnerable without her panties.

Enox sipped his coffee. “Thank you.”

“Of course. So, what are you going to say when they ask why you took so long?”

He grinned. “I figured I’d just tell them I met my future mate.”

She fell into a fit of giggles. “Stop it!”

“I love your laugh. I did tell you it was a dangerous thing to do to tell me to do what I like.”

She looked him over and found him serious. She frowned. “Wait… Wait, you’re serious?”

Enox leaned over the arm of the chair and rested his head on his hand. “I’ve never been more serious.”

She sputtered, wanting to bring up once more that she was thirty years older than him, but remembered the sadness in his eyes when she did. “Is… Is that allowed?”

He laughed. “I’m an adult, they can’t tell me what’s allowed and what isn’t. I know I want to spend more time with you and make you laugh and other things.”

Her face flushed again.

“Like that.”

[alinasteelcrest]

Safety welcomes them with open arms. How long will it last?

Word Count: 1.4k

Mr. Peterson opened the door for her. Polite of him.

“Sorry I can’t give you Lisa’s room,” he said, quiet and slow, like he was forcing the words out.

They’d always been a bit awkward.

“That’s perfectly alright,” Alina answered lightly. “This is more than I could have hoped for.”

“Don’t be silly. I know you and my girl were close. I could never turn you away. Especially not…”

Briefly, Alina wondered if he knew. She pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter now, did it?

Or maybe it did.

“I’ll… let you get settled in. Dinner’s at 7. I can bring it if you’d rather not eat with everyone, but it might be a good idea to visit, start getting used to each other.”

He reached for her, and Alina watched his hand warily from the corner of her eye. All he did, though, was give her a quick squeeze of the shoulder, and then he backed into the hallway, allowing her to enter the room properly.

She reached sideways with one leg to block the doorway and prevent Shoji’s dog from getting too excited and wreaking havoc on the place.

“Thank you again, sir.” She turned her head and looked at him. Eye contact was polite, even if it made her nervous to think that someone might find out about her recently developed issue.

He didn’t seem to notice, just dipped his head and walked away, muttering an “A’course,” under his breath.

Once he was some ways away, headed for the sitting room they’d passed as he led her to her new livingspace, she peeked into the bedroom.

It was very… brown. A couple of woven, colourfully striped blankets were folded and stacked on top of the duvet, but otherwise the room was largely just different shades of beige and brown. There was an animal skin rug halfway under the bed, she thought it must have been some kind of deer.

Everything looked handcrafted, the wooden bedframe and the cabinet beside it, the chair in the corner, the dresser on the other end of the room. The door frame, even.

There were nails in the wall, like paintings or photographs had once hung there. Alina guessed that Mr. Peterson had taken them to Lisa’s old room when he’d moved into it.

She pressed her lips together at the idea of her …missing… friend.

Mr. Peterson had lost his daughter. How awful. How truly, unbelievably awful. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

At least she knew where her kid was. At least she knew that he was safe.

Alina closed the door behind herself after she and Ember entered the room. The puppy dutifully marched around, inspecting everything within reach as Alina took her boots off and left them by the door with her bag.

She climbed onto the bed and tucked her knees up. Something poked awkwardly into her hip.

Right, the knife.

She unsheathed it and examined the dangerous blade and the sturdy handle. Was it made of wood? Was it Earth wood? Whatever it was, there was some kind of magic buried deep inside it. Allegedly.

She swiped her thumb against the intricate pattern on the hilt, touch lingering against the eye carved into the material.

Alina looked very small curled up in the middle of the large mattress she’d been loaned. Shoji couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

Of course she was smaller than he was, but something was different about her, here and now.

Maybe it was how tall this bed was. Maybe the gap between the frame and the floor made it seem bigger than the bed she’d had at home, though the mattresses appeared the same size. Or maybe it was the way she’d tucked her knees up to her chest, the way she’d hugged them even more tightly against herself.

Maybe it was the distant, haunted look in her eyes as she stared unblinkingly at the far wall of the wooden cabin.

It was probably that.

“This place isn’t so bad,” he offered.

He was lying, of course. It would never compare to their home, it would never compare to being with his family, but… It wasn’t awful. Not now, at least.

Starshine Ranch had never been particularly appealing to him. The people here were rough, the rub-some-dirt-in-it type. The athletics were similar, barrel racing and pole bending and cow herding, all dirty work that would leave him covered in dust. It made him itch just to think about it.

He certainly could find it in himself to complain about everything, but he swallowed it down, forcing himself to be grateful instead.

And yeah, okay, he was grateful. Really. At the beginning of this whole mess, Carl Peterson had taken his brother in without batting an eye. That meant that they were reunited, now. He’d spent the past few days standing beside Slade just because he could. It was such an unbelievable relief to find a scrap of familiarity after losing everything.

But that wasn’t even the important part, because they’d welcomed Alina in with open arms, too.

There was no reason why they wouldn’t have. She’d given them a free workhorse, she’d been reliable before, and they had no idea that she was half blind. Why wouldn’t they take in another set of hardworking hands?

Still, it was a weight off of his shoulders, knowing that he had someone else to help keep her safe.

“Alina?” he asked quietly, moving closer.

She didn’t even look at him.

“Hey.”

He nudged her with his nose, and she reacted on autopilot, one hand releasing her legs and catching her weight before she toppled over. The other uncurled as well, after a moment, and she reached up to cup his jaw.

Finally, finally, she turned her head to face him. Her gaze developed a sudden clarity.

“Forgive me,” she said.

Alarm spiked through him.

“For what?”

“I want to go find Jesse.”

He snorted quietly, ears flicking backwards. He forced them straight again.

“Who knows where he is? It’s been months, Alina. He’d have shown his face if he wanted to be found.”

“Hush,” she said, voice going soft. Then, it hardened again, “I know him. You know him. He’ll want to protect his herd. He’s probably in charge of the whole Wildwoods at this point. He won’t be able to leave them, so I have to go to him.”

“Don’t…” Don’t what? Don’t be silly? He couldn’t belittle her like that, and besides, her logic was sound. Most of it, anyway. “We just got here. And you saw how dangerous it was in Silverglade. It’ll be dangerous on the way to Firgrove, too, and in the forest.”

Would she ever stop chasing Jesse? Why wasn’t he enough for her?

“I’ll stay for a few more days, see if I can’t get some food and supplies, but I’m going.”

Sudden anger burned beneath Shoji’s skin. It snapped across his back in tiny arcs of static, and Alina squinted warily. She wasn’t scared of him, of his Lightning, but his loose control over his emotions and magic had probably just called those things towards them.

Well, they were safe inside, so she didn’t need to worry about them.

She was safe. She was inside. She had easily accessible food- A variety of it, even! There was electricity and running water here, and his brother, who had been so desperately excited to see them again that even the vague memory of it made Shoji’s chest hurt.

She would leave him again, after they’d just left everyone else?

She would have Shoji leave him?

He tried to reason with her again, “Those wild horses don’t even like humans. They’ll be so much worse now, you know they will. They won’t even let us in.”

“I’m going.”

He allowed his ears to fold back, showing her how much he hated this idea. She dropped her hand from his face, which… stung a little. 

At the end of the bed, Ember shuffled against the duvet in his sleep, distracting them from their staring match.

“Are we taking him?” he asked lowly. He couldn’t decide which option was worse, dragging the puppy along on this stupid quest, or leaving him behind.

After a long moment, Alina’s gaze moved back towards Shoji, “We?”

“You can be so dumb sometimes,” he told her, and then shoved her with his head so that she fell over.

“Hey!”

He kept his head against her, closing his eyes and sighing.

“Don’t ever think that I’d make you do this alone.”

[clean-bubbles-aka-bubbles]

Cabin Inn

As the car rumbled along the road, the only sound was the crunch of gravel under the tires and the occasional soft groan from Bubbles in the backseat. Mark drove with a palpable tension, his eyes scanning the dark woods for any sign of trouble. Cesar sat beside him, his worried expression deepening with each passing moment.

The isolation of the drive gave Bubbles time to reflect. The physical pain was one thing—a constant, throbbing reminder of the night’s events—but it was the emotional and mental strain that weighed heaviest on her. The secret she guarded so fiercely, the identity of the Celestial Artisan, felt like a growing burden, one that threatened to expose itself with every encounter with the Alternates.

When they finally arrived at the cabin, the first hints of dawn were creeping over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of soft pink and blue. Mark’s Hispanic friend quickly unlocked the door, and the three stepped in.

The decor embodies the quintessence of rustic charm blended with touches of '90s flair. The trio were greeted by a warm and inviting atmosphere, illuminated by the soft glow of a wood-burning stove in the corner, crackling gently.

The living area features a comfortable, slightly worn sofa adorned with plaid throws and mismatched cushions that add a homely touch. Nearby, a large, hand-knotted wool rug in earth tones anchors the space, inviting anyone to relax by the hearth. The walls, paneled in knotty pine, are adorned with framed landscape paintings and vintage skiing posters reminiscent of the era.

A heavy, wooden coffee table sits in the middle of the room, its surface bearing the patina of years of use, perhaps scattered with a few magazines from the '90s, like issues of "National Geographic" or "Outdoor Life." Nearby, a bookshelf overflows with a mix of classic literature and popular novels from the decade, along with board games and a cassette tape collection featuring grunge and pop hits.

The kitchen is simple yet functional, with aged copper pots hanging from a handcrafted pot rack. The countertops, perhaps a bit dated, are covered in laminate that mimics the look of natural stone. They show signs of wear but are clean and well-maintained. The pine cabinets match the wall paneling, and an old, chunky microwave sits next to a spice rack filled with dried herbs and spices.

A small dining area features a round wooden table and chairs, each chair cushion covered in a floral fabric that was trendy at the time. Overhead, a wrought iron chandelier provides soft lighting, enhancing the cabin's rustic ambiance.

The bedrooms continue the theme down a narrow hallway with cozy plaid-patterned flannel bedding, handmade quilts, and thick woolen blankets. The furniture is sturdy and wood-made, with vintage brass lamps on the nightstands casting a warm glow.

The cabin's windows are covered in handmade curtains, perhaps a bit faded but clean. These curtains offer views of the surrounding woods and let in natural light that plays across the cabin's nostalgic interior.

"Wow... DAMN! I didn't know your guys' cabin you two own was nice!" Bubbles’s eyes sparkled in awe. “So much for living in 2024. It looks really nice to live in here.” She thought. “Ack–!” She winced again, feeling sharp pain shooting on her side.

Mark immediately went to the bathroom to gather medical supplies while Cesar filled a basin with warm water and grabbed some towels. They returned to Bubbles’ side and cleaned her wounds with gentle, efficient movements.

"You're good at this," Bubbles commented, trying to mask her pain with a weak smile as she observed her Hispanic friend handle the cloth.

"I've had some practice," the Hispanic male replied in a low voice. “I used to help my mom with her garden injuries while tending to our roses. I never thought I'd be doing this under such different circumstances."

The brown-haired teen rummaged through a first aid kit they found in a cabinet, pulling out some antiseptic and bandages. "This might sting a bit," Mark warned before carefully applying the antiseptic.

Bubbles tensed, her breath hitching as the solution touched her wound, but she bit her lip and bore it. "Thanks," she breathed out once Cesar began to bandage her up more professionally than she would have expected.

As they tended to her, the silence was heavy with unspoken questions and concerns. Finally, Mark broke it, his voice filled with unwavering support.

"Bubbles, you know you can trust us, right?" he asked, his voice gentle but firm. "Whatever is going on, whatever you're hiding... we're here for you, no matter what."

Bubbles looked up at them, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and fear. She took a deep breath, considering her following words carefully.

"I know," she replied softly. "And I appreciate it more than you can know. It's just... complicated."

Cesar nodded, dabbing at a particularly nasty cut. "We get it. But seeing you out there tonight and the way you handled everything... You’ve almost got yourself killed!"

Bubbles chuckled weakly. "Understatement of the year." 

“Don’t wave it off!” The Hispanic friend scolded her. “You’re always putting yourself in a situation that scares us when you almost die every time! It’s not funny! ¿¡Lo entiendes!?”

"Sí, lo sé." She rolled her eyes slightly.

Mark placed a reassuring hand on Bubbles' shoulder, his expression serious. "We care about you, Bubbles. We don't want to lose you. So please, promise us you'll be more careful next time."

Bubbles nodded, her gaze meeting Mark's with sincerity. "I promise. I'll do everything in my power to keep us safe. But you have to promise me something, too."

Cesar and Mark exchanged a glance, their expressions curious. "What's that?" Mark asked.

Bubbles took a deep breath, steeling herself in case she had to do a reveal. "Promise me that you'll trust me no matter what happens. Even if things seem impossible or I make decisions you don't understand. Promise me you'll trust that I'm doing what's best for all of us."

There was a moment of silence as her words hung in the air, the weight of their implications sinking in. Mark and Cesar shared a look before turning back to Bubbles, determination shining in their eyes.

.

.

"We promise,"

.

.

they said in unison, their voices filled with conviction.

With that assurance, Bubbles felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She knew she couldn't do this alone, and having her friends' trust and support meant everything to her.

“Let’s rest for the night,” Cesar said, rising from his sofa seat. “We can worry about the sigil cards later. Bubbles can explain it to us in the morning since she knows how it works.” He nodded. 

Mark nodded in agreement, his gaze softening as he looked at Bubbles. "Yeah, rest is what you need right now. We'll figure out the rest tomorrow." He helped her to her feet, supporting her as they walked towards one of the bedrooms.

The cabin, with its warm wooden walls and the comforting crackle of the fire, felt like a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. Bubbles felt the tension start to ease from her shoulders as they entered the cozy bedroom, its rustic charm underscored by the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

Cesar pulled back the covers on the bed, fluffing the pillows before turning to Bubbles. "Get some sleep. We'll be right here if you need anything," he assured her, his tone protective.

Bubbles managed a small smile, grateful for their care and concern. "Thank you, both of you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

As she settled into the bed, the soft mattress comforting against her bruised body, she felt a sense of peace envelop her. The weight of her secrets and the burden of her responsibilities were still there, but for now, she allowed herself the luxury of rest, surrounded by the quiet strength of her friends.

Mark lingered for a moment, watching her with a thoughtful expression. "Goodnight, Bubbles," he said softly before leaving the room with Cesar.

Once they were back in the living area, Cesar looked at Mark, a concerned frown creasing his brow. "Do you think she's telling us everything?" he asked quietly.

Mark sighed, sinking into an armchair by the fire. "I don't know, man. But I do know she's under a lot of pressure. Whatever she's holding back, I'm sure she has her reasons. We just need to be there for her, no matter what."

Cesar nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. "Yeah. We stick together. That's how we'll get through this."

They sat silently for a moment, the crackle of the fire filling the space between them. Both were lost in their thoughts, pondering the complexities of their situation and the mysterious entity known as the Celestial Artisan. The night deepened around them, and the dark woods outside the cabin whispered their own secrets.

Back in the bedroom, Bubbles drifted into a restless sleep, her dreams a whirlwind of shadowy figures and echoing voices. She was haunted by the Perpetrator's words, the implications of her own power, and the unknown challenges that lay ahead. Yet, amidst the tumult of her subconscious, a steadfast resolve formed. She would protect her friends, come what may. She was the Celestial Artisan, whether acknowledged or hidden, and she bore the weight of that mantle with a fierce determination.

Morning would come, bringing with it the need for decisions and actions. But for now, in the heart of the night, Bubbles and her friends found a semblance of peace in the solidarity of their bond, the quiet strength of their unity offering a shield against the darkness outside.

[manicmillenial]

Bar stools and dining chairs

Bar stools are basically stools which are used in dining, kitchen and more often in a bar setup. The difference between a bar stool and an ordinary stool is that bar stools comes with foot rest and a taller than a standard stool. Bar stools are very common in bars where the design of the bar counter is such that a high sitting arrangement is necessary to drink from the counter. However modern kitchens and even homes are also getting fascinated with the idea of using these sitting options. The design of a bar stool is somewhat a show add for the average room; however you need to pick the right design and material for that. Bar stools are click here to learn more also used in a bar setup at home and thus they add to the glamour of the room. Bar stools can be further customized to be used not only in the pool sides but also in some in-house spectator sports like billiards and snookers. They are there customized for the audience to sit and enjoy the game.

They come in various shapes and sizes although the general design has to be a tall one which is so typical of a bar stool. However the material can be plastic, wooden or even metallic depending upon the general set up of the location and the surrounding where the stools will be placed. Bar stools come with a foot rest, usually they are without a backrest though some do come with a backrest as well. They are usually not floor mounted in a household setup but in the commercial setup it is common to have them floor mounted and fitted to it using screw or angle brackets. This prevents them to be stolen and also reduces the possibility of having them misplaced. They add that extra glamour to the traditional bars. Nowadays offbeat materials like bamboo are also being used to manufacture them. This can be a wonderful idea for a Polynesian style Tiki bar with all the usual masks and other objects to complete the theme.

There are certain aspects to look into while buying bar stools for your home. A standard bar stool is about 30” in sitting height. The standard height for a domestic kitchen counter bar stool is about 26”. However before buying a bar stool for your home ensure to measure the height of the counter and also the space that you have to place the stools. It is not uncommon to have them made to your custom measurements and designing requirements. If your seller is willing to do that for you at a nominal charge then take that option as it is always better to have a custom designed stool rather than something that will not go with the general design and layout of your kitchen.

Breakfast bar stools are shorter than the normal ones. A standard bar stool is about 30” in height, however a kitchen or breakfast bar stool can be about 26” or less depending upon the height or your kitchen and breakfast counter plus also depending upon the space you have. If your seller gives you the option to custom order them, take it as they would be the right size and greatly enhance the look and feel of your kitchen. They are made of a wide variety of materials depending upon your choice. The usual Aluminum stools are standard varieties but nowadays there are a wide lot of options including wooden stools which greatly increase the ambience of the room. Say if you have a kitchen with wooden décor then going for a wooden breakfast bar stool would be the right idea. There are other options like chrome which is highly glossy and its appearance greatly enhances the look and feel of your kitchen together you’re your counter.

Dining chairs comes in a wide variety of shapes, sizes, colors and materials to choose from. Starting from the original hand crafted wooden varieties to plastic and also with silver. Wooden chairs always present a grand traditional feeling when placed in the dining. Wooden chairs are handcrafted and as such can be customized to preference with special contours and designing of the arms and legs. They can be with traditional wooden finish or colored as per preference. Together with a neatly designed cushion they are traditional and add to décor of your dining room.

Plastic dining chairs are fast becoming popular as they are lightweight, very durable and also come in a large variety of colors and design to choose from. So you can pick one matching exactly the general color scheme of the dining room. Plastic dining chairs are tough and they can withstand a fair amount of abuse and still look brand new. Also they are cheaper compared to wooden or silver or chrome chairs and are thus a huge savings for you. So if you are looking for cheaper alternative then plastic chairs are absolutely right for you.

[investmentofmyheart]

cast your mutuals as furniture

That’s a stupid question but I. I’d rather seem stupid than move right now. Okay, tumblr. Let’s see who I even remember.

@confused-as-all-hell Armoire…

@iambecomeyourvillain Jes can sit on the floor. Open a window.

@jellybeanium124 A beanbag.

@lostnevarrite Ornate rug that straddles the line between gorgeous and very hideous.

@saltyfortunes Lamp. Affectionate.

@the-sky-is-full-of-stars Lava lamp. Derogatory.

@twelve-kinds-of-trouble Table and chairs. Wooden. Handcrafted. It’s not well done, but it was made with care and has actual function. In theory.

[zmediaoutlet]

i need to know what jp's handcrafted wood is, please and thank you 🙏🤲

hallo ava, this fic might be up your alley if I could actually write it and it wasn't the partial cause of my current crisis of confidence, lol. This is an j2 au fic where Jensen's a famous actor -- as in, got cast as Captain America famous, given that that was a rumor for a while and I thought it'd be fun to see how that could happen & what it'd do. (Note: still definitely *au*, bc of my squicks.) He's not exactly thrilled about life, though, and most of what he actually has fun with is watching his favorite youtuber, JP's Handcrafted Wood, who owns a woodshop and does tutorial vids and also those hangout vids where he's building a table for two hours and just livestreaming, you know? The fic's actually intended to be about the nature of fame, and art vs commerce, and parasocial relationships (I think it's very very funny that Actual Captain America is lurking in Jared's tiny comment section on youtube), and it's sort of a meet cute but also not so cute, you know? Running on the model of the standard 30k big bang j2 romance but because I'm me, it's grimmer than that, lol.

The trouble I'm having, as I said to some buds the other day, is that it would be way more effective as a movie than as written. At least how I'm thinking about it right now. Eve suggested switching up the structure and maybe that'd work. I don't know. It may just be daydreaming about Jared building a chair. But a snip, since there was some writing done --

He doesn't remember how he clicked on the first one. Some recommendation, the algorithm trying to get him to watch something that wasn't a cooking video for once. The video was about hasps. Jensen didn't even know that was a word, much less what one was. Mostly the video was a pair of huge tanned hands, bandaids around two of the fingers, showing off different mechanisms and talking about the advantages and use cases of each one, and then finishing with a fitting onto a little wooden chest that he'd apparently made in the previous video. Throughout was the narration, an easy endless rambling soliloquy with a faint Texas accent that made Jensen abruptly homesick, marooned as he was in Georgia on a shoot for a movie he didn't really care about but was making him a whole hell of a lot of money, and he lay back on the couch in his trailer and clicked on the next recommended video—this one actually making the wooden chest—and then the next one—dovetail joints—and then he went back to the very first video, and he watched all the way through, from the beginning, for every y'all and every bad pun and the random personal details JP will let slip, just because he, apparently, never stops talking.

[gsasustainability]

Ted Tinkler, Painting and Printmaking

Winner GSA Sustainability Degree Show Prize Summer 2023

"they are containers of fluidity"

Ted Tinkler (they/them)

My practice centres around handcrafts – playing with ideas of intimacy, liveliness, multiplicity, and trans- ness. I work with the animacy and performativity of crafted objects. They are my co-collaborators. Access and care are at the heart of my practice. I move through making by prioritising intimacy, space, and vulnerability over a productionist, scarcity-based mindset. My work tends to a slowtime.

Deep in the details of hand crafts.

Of spinning, knitting, quilt-making, and wood-working.

This installation is made of many hands.

These objects are full of liveliness and animacy.

Of tales and futures. Of deep roots covered in soil. Of naming as personhood.

Of intimacy lying at the boundaries. As sites of radical, speculative imagination. To cross these boundaries. Back and forth.

Multimedia installation of hand-crafted craft tools for hand-crafts. – (Suspended hap frame, with hand-lathed pulley system [handmade with walnut, bocote, and oak]. 4 plate photolithographs. White linen quilt top with embedded hand-knitted Shetland lace samples – on hand-lathed oak. Standing quilt frame for hand-quilting [handmade with oak, iroko, and cherry]. TED quilt [in progress] made with coreopsis, buddleia, indigo, woad, dock leaves, found linen and cotton tablecloths and handkerchiefs, and a woollen blanket. Naturally dyed, in community, bird/tree of life quilt block. Scrap chair of gender-queer joy made in collaboration with Jules Dunn [oak, iroko, and pine] with scrap seat-top quilt. Hand-lathed, pine, niddy noddy wound with white, hand-spun wool. Spinning wheel from unknown maker, in traditional design of Scottish flax spinning wheels. Paper, books, zines, sewing pins, cork, wool, coreopsis. Quilt top of a lace pattern [naturally dyed].)

On the 4th floor, in the furthest corner at the right of the room, the installation called “they are containers of fluidity” lies. The space sits in a spiral shape with false walls creating hidden corners that lie out of sight when you first enter the space. Most of the year the space functions as a working studio for students, so there is paint scattered across the dark wooden floors. With squares of white paint, and a few floorboards a bit worse for wear.

For “they are containers of fluidity” there is a new lick of paint, the floors are freshly cleaned, and new objects fill the space. The wall to your left is painted an olive-green-esque colour. It is bare and marks the beginning of this imagined interior. The wall to your front and right are painted a browny-grey with strong hints of green. The wall to your right is full. Bursting at the seams. The first half is busier and is set up in the structure of a workshop-esque wall.

From right to left there is: A long and thin patchwork fabric piece in naturally dyed hues of purples and yellows; A wooden spinning wheel on the ground, found by the artist, and based upon traditional designs of Scottish flax spinning wheels; A small print of the artist spinning white wool at the wheel; Above this hangs a knitted lace handkerchief that almost blends ethereally into the wall; Five shelves scattered with books, flowers, small folded naturally dyed quilts, lace knitting, hand-spun wool skeins, scraps of fabric in jars, and hand-made zines; On the floor below stands a small stool with two zines and a book lying upon it, alongside a slightly ragged sewing box.

There is a small gap before a ‘niddy noddy’ and two small lithograph prints are hung. The ‘niddy noddy’ is a spinning tool for taking the wool off the wheel just after spinning. It is made of three pieces of hand-lathed pine wood, joined in two perpendicular T-joints. White hand-spun wool is looped around it in a figure-of-eight, with the remaining ball pinned to the wall beside the object itself.

 

The wall directly in front of the entrance to this installation is the largest, at around 4m in length. This is not a false wall, but the wall of the room itself so stretches up to the ceiling. The paint line stops at the same height as the false walls, around 2.4m, and above that is the traditional cool white. In the right-hand corner sits a wooden chair. It is made of a variety of woods, carefully pieced together and oiled. It sits fairly low to the ground and has a wide, deep seat. The back is made in a lattice formation, and on the support beams below the seat a quilt is draped. The quilt is a scrap block that uses leftovers from all the other naturally dyed objects within the installation. The three layers have been sewn together and bound, and it now lies folded, almost touching the floor.

A quilting frame stands to the left of the chair, not quite parallel to the wall. It juts out towards you as you first enter the space, at a gentle angle. It is made of oak, cherry, and iroko wood. The sturdy and delicate wooden structure has been sanded, oiled, and waxed so it is smooth and sumptuous to the touch. It has two legs with decoratively detailed feet. On one end it has two wooden cogs which help turn the beams and the quilt. A quilting frame is somewhat like a hollow table, with moving parts, to allow a quilt to be stretched across its limbs.

Upon this frame a naturally dyed quilt is stretched. You cannot see the full quilt as the top and bottom edges are rolled up on oak and cherry beams. Colours of reds, browns, pinks, yellows, white, and hints of blues dominate. The hand-quilting is partially completed with indigo-blue and coreopsis-yellow thread. These bind the three layers together – linen and cotton, wool, and linen again. The design of the quilt top contains the ‘bear claw’ quilt block, a block spelling out ‘TED’, and larger swathes of white linen. There are patches of embroidery throughout, overdyed, cut up, and sewn into the pattern. The quilt frame is tilted slightly towards you, and away from the wall.

Behind the quilt frame, another quilt is hung on the wall. This one is finished. It manipulates a traditional ‘pine tree’ or ‘tree of life’ quilt block into a ‘bird/tree of life’ quilt. Again, the fabric is naturally dyed in community – with yellows, purples, pinks, and white predominantly making up the palette. This quilt is made of lots of carefully sewn triangles and bound at the edges with yellow-buddleia linen.

As you step further into the space, more is revealed. Notably a large, bright window and two painted-white, wooden beams across the space, well-above head-height. The wall around the window remains white and has a few simple objects attached to it. One of the beams intersects the window and is smoothly joined to the wall on the left of the window. Two oak cleat hooks with thin orange rope wrapped in figures-of-eight’s around them, are also affixed on this wall.

A hand-lathed circular oak pole, with a few delicate details, is hung in front of the window. It is attached with two wooden pegs, like found on the spinning wheel on the opposite side of the space. From this wooden pole hangs a white quilt top. It is made of parts of a linen tablecloth and has hand-knitted Shetland lace sewn amongst them. The top is folded over the wood and pinned with simple white sewing pins to keep the fabric in place. When the late afternoon and early evening sun shines, a strong light comes through the window. The window frames cast shadows across the two larger walls, the floor, and the lace inserts cast more delicate shadows too. If a hand is held up to the piece, a delicate pattern of holes will be shadowed upon the flesh.

Obscured from the entrance but now fully revealed: a L-shaped wall to the left, painted olive green, and a hanging wooden object. The wooden object is a hap frame. Four sticks in a rectangle, with drilled holes at regular intervals down their lengths. It is made of deep coloured woods, iroko and bocote, and has dark wooden knobs made from walnut at the four corners. A hap frame is a traditional Shetland tool for stretching (or blocking) knitted lace. This activity is completed at the very end of the process, to fully reveal the knitted holes and show-up the lace design.

This hap frame hangs on thin, orange rope from a hand-made, hand-lathed, oak pulley system. It is like a pulley you might find on boat rigging, or a Glaswegian, tenemental washing airer. A piece of knitted lace is stretched in the middle of the hap frame. It has been hand spun on the spinning wheel in the opposite corner. The wool comes from Shetland and is undyed and brilliant white. Full of sheepy texture, and smell. The lace is made up of a repeating ‘fir cone’ lace pattern and diamond motif. It is rectangular, with straight (as straight as knitting is) long edges, and scalloped short edges. The lace has been sewn into the frame with thin, white thread to join the knit to the holes in the wood.

Behind the frame is hung a lithography print of a 35mm film photograph. This makes up the performative gesture of the work titled “pegging down their lace”. The lithography print is made of four coloured layers (cyan, magenta, yellow, and black) to create a full colour image. It retains the quality of the original film photograph. The white paper is pinned at the four corners with sewing pins into cork behind. The image itself is set amongst the mossy, loch edge in the Kilpatrick hills, just outside Glasgow. The blue ripples of loch Humphrey are just visible on the top edge of the image. Two young, white hands touch the knitting and steel knitting needles – pinning it out on the grass and moss. Small moss sporophytes peek through some holes in the lace. There is a gentle light settled across the photo and small shadows of the knitting needles are cast on the hand closest to the foreground.

On the smallest wall, to the left of this print, is another lithograph. This one is far, far smaller in comparison and depicts the whole lace piece lying amongst some grassy tussocks. The white of the lace piece glows and floats. Just beside this is another oak cleat hook with a figure-of-eight of rope. The final hook is near the ground on the edge of this wall. Following these in sequence takes you back around to the central space of the interior, to face again the quilting frame.

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[officemaster-ae]

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