#fine bone china mugs
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Wedgwood Peter Rabbit Classic Two Handled Bone China Toddler Child's Mug Boxed || SWtradepost - ebay
Peter Rabbit thought..... It would have been a beautiful thing to hide in. If it had not had so much water in it.
#peter rabbit#mugs#two handled mug#toddlers mugs#ceramic mugs#beatrix potter#wedgwood fine bone china mug#fine bone china mugs#swtradepost#ebay mugs#ebay#tableware#drinkware
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Hii!! just wondering if you could do a chamber x fem or gn reader where they are dating but chamber gets jealous of another agent in the protocol <33
Heeheehoohoo this wasn’t sitting in m y inbox for months no no (frimsosorrybutireallyhopeyouenjoy)
Chamber x fem!Reader: The Jealous Type
Vincent prided himself on keeping his cool. He really did. Staying calm and collected was how he survived so damn long in the heat of battle.
Why then was it that he had to consciously, consciously tell himself to relax his grip on the fine bone china mug of coffee?
Could it have been anything to do with a very, very charming new agent throwing his weight around in the common rooms? Surely not.
“Ah,” Harbor called out from across the table as you dragged your sorry bones through the kitchen. “Miss Y/N. Good of you to drop in nice and early—perfect timing! I was just about to get a pot of something on.”
Oh, thank the fuck god.
“That would… that would actually be amazing, I owe you one man,” you hummed as you took a seat at the kitchen counter.
“Pleasure is all mine! Pick your poison.” He nudged a box of teas and coffees across the table towards you with an easy smile.
Looking through, you grabbed your ol’ reliable from the kit and held it up for Harbor’s appraisal. “This okay?” You cocked your head towards him.
“Excellent choice, I’ll get it going.”
As the pot heated up, Harbor worked quickly, grabbing all the mugs from the counter. You noted idly that he seemed to be familiar with which agents were likely to be up early—Brim, Skye, Reyna and Sova’s mugs were all taken out and arranged ready for the agents to come in. Bloody impressive for being in the protocol what… ten days at most?
“I can see you’ve already worked out the lay of the land huh, Harbor.” You nodded towards the cups.
“Well, I can’t well make friends and influence people if I step on their toes before the day even begins,” he chuckled. “I had to learn that with Reyna the hard way.”
“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow. Reyna was not known for being the most… approachable, morning or otherwise. You tended to stay away—you’d heard the shouting at Jett and Phoenix before, and that didn’t exactly inspire confidence in you. Not at 5.40 in the morning.
“Look, let’s just say I assumed the whisky pump had been left out from dinnertime by mistake, and I picked the wrong time of morning to put it away.”
At this, you snorted. “Idiocy. Everyone knows Reyna has Frangelico and other, more ‘expressive’ liquors at dinner time.” You really laboured the ‘expressive’.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harbor’s eyes widen. You could almost catch a “speak of the devil” under his breath as the devil herself stalked in, beelining for her modern mug.
Harbor played it off easily, humming lightly to himself as he grabbed the hissing kettle. You on the other hand, sat as still as possible, lips pursed and trying not to draw any attention to yourself on the off chance she’d heard anything.
“This is ready?” you heard her ask your colleague, jerking her head towards the pot as she picked up the mug.
“Piping hot and ready to go, as per usual. House blend today, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate.”
Reyna hummed approvingly, grabbing the pot and wordlessly pouring herself a drink. As she turned around, you couldn’t help but make eye-contact with Harbor as you heard the crank of the infamous whisky pump. You struggled to keep a straight face, and Harbor’s conspiratorial gleam wasn’t helping.
You managed to keep the giggles under wraps until Reyna had left the kitchen, at which point the pair of you dissolved into chuckles.
“Jesus Christ Harbor, that was a close one. A little more warning, please.”
“Hey, how was I supposed to know she would arrive at exactly 6.39 this morning.”
At this point, Harbor grabbed the pot, made a show of checking it for any whisky, and hopped down beside you with his own mug.
“Dude, let me,” you shooed him away from pouring and grabbed the jug. “You had this before?”
“Always down to try new things,” he shot back with a wry smile.
You raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t come complaining to me if you don’t like it then, you were the one who made it.”
He chuckled and gratefully accepted the cup.
Conversation flowed easily as the two of you kicked back, musing on your past lives and ambitions in the protocol. Unlike Harbor, you’d had a while to get used to your radiance, and were able to offer a few tips on how not to overdraw your own energy resources. Harbor, on the other hand, was a wealth of facts and stories from hunting artifacts in the field. He was able to shed a little bit more light on some of the curiosities you had, like the bowls of colourful sand you always lingered on on your deployments in Morocco.
“Oh those? You have a keen eye for these things. From my understanding they’re actually textile dyes—once you activate them with water they take to the fabric like nothing else!”
“Guess we’d have to steer clear if you needed to flood the area,” you poked back.
It wasn’t until your beloved popped around the corner that you remembered you were actually due for a mission today.
“Vincent! I’m so sorry, I meant to be in the meeting room like twenty minutes ago to go over weapons.”
Your partner raised an eyebrow. “Yes, mademoiselle, it took me an extra five of those to convince our dear leader that you were not in fact one for tardiness, and that there was a good reason for your absence.”
“Shit no that’s totally my bad, Harbor and I got caught up yammering about architecture and I completely missed the time.” You shot Chamber an apologetic look, not quite managing to catch his eye.
At this point, Harbor took the moment to chime in. “Well I’m sure Brim can’t expect a lovely lady like this to hit the briefing room on an empty stomach?”
Harbor’s smile was warm and genuine, but his eyes were a little shrewder than you’d initially noticed.
Chamber seemed quiet for a second, moreso than you’d usually expect for his usual morning charm. If your eyes didn’t deceive you he seemed almost taken aback.
“My good friend, my intention was to ensure she arrived on time, and have refreshments come to her without cutting into her time to prepare.”
A little deterred by your partner’s more serious demeanour, you started up from the chair and grabbed the mugs.
“Whelp, this has been a great chat, Harbor, but I definitely have to dash now if I don’t want Brim to be permanently on my ass at 7am.” You swung by Vincent, placing a reassuring hand in the small of his back as you manoeuvred past him to the door.
“No need to apologise, Miss Y/N, though I do hope to continue our chats soon pending the outcome of the mission.” Harbor gave the pair of you an easy smile and settles back against the counter-top. “Do take care on your mission today, yes?”
Chamber grabbed your hand. It wasn’t harsh, but the gesture was sudden enough to surprise you as he gently tugged you out of the room.
“I assure you, my friend, she is in very good hands,” he said over his shoulder as Harbor gave a cheery wave (hah).
As soon as he’d closed the door, Chamber started making a beeline for the briefing room.
“Woah woah, why the sudden professionalism Vincent? Is Brim mad?”
“You mistake my haste, ma Cherie. I prefer to be punctual, and assume you were similarly inclined.”
You pulled back. “I hate to do this now, but I get the sense this isn’t a Brim thing, is it?”
“Don’t be silly ma chou, I just don’t want to be late.”
Yeah… he really wasn’t meeting your eyes, was he.
“Vincent, stop. Look at me. Something’s gotten to you hasn’t it.”
Obligingly, he stopped, but wasn’t turning to face you.
“Vincent…”
“Now it has gotten to this point, I feel exceedingly foolish, mon bebe.”
“My love, when we started to know each other, properly, I made a promise to you and you made a promise to me, right? You remember how that went?”
Your partner sighed, and turned to face you. His jaw was set and there was a vein, a little more pronounced than usual, popping from his forehead. With great effort, he forced his eyes to meet yours, and there was more frustration and concern there than you’d seen in a while.
“Oh, my darling,” you said softly, and moved forward to wrap him in a massive hug. “We talk about these things right? I promised you I’d listen, and always be there to hold you like this.”
“…’m feel so stupid for even letting it get to me,” he mumbled into your shirt. “…wasn’t even your problem… thought I was past this unbecoming behaviour…”
While you could only glean little snippets of what he was saying, you started putting two and two together in your head. “Ahh,” you say quietly.
“And I knew when I made this commitment—when we committed to each other—that I wouldn’t be the one captured by your gaze.”
“Vincent, I promise you, I’m not that—”
“No no, mon ange, you have this magnetic draw. You’re too kind, too well-meaning to see it, but of course people are going to be interested in you. I knew that, I prided myself on rising above it but still…”
“I’m really not convinced that Harbor is interested in anything more than being friends.”
At the mention of his name, you felt Chamber’s body twinge a little.
“No mon amour, he had that look in his eyes. I know it all too well, it is something I’ve felt myself on a number of occasions.”
“Shhh shhh,” you gently traced your fingers through his hair and around the nape of his neck. “Shhh, you know that kind of thing doesn’t faze me at all though right? He’s barking up the wrong tree.”
Chamber, your beautiful, tired partner, mumbled something unintelligible into your chest.
“And hey,” you continued. “I don’t care how many people throw themselves at me, shamelessly or otherwise. In fact, I wish they wouldn’t, at all. Ever. However. None of that matters, not even for the split second it takes you to get from point A to B on your rendezvous, huh?”
At this, he let out an involuntary snort.
“And none of that matters, because at the end of the day, I only have eyes for you. I will only ever have eyes for you. No one interests me in the same way you do Vincent.” You paused for a second, because no matter how many times you said it it still felt as real as the first time.
“You are the only one I love, and I love you with my head, my heart, my body and my soul. We made a promise, you and I, and I intend to keep it.”
You felt him relax into your arms as you say this, and in that moment, you decide that maybe Brim can wait a little longer.
“I love you,” he mumbled through your shirt.
“I love you too, Vincent,” you smiled back.
---
“Your heart is thudding awfully fast, carino,” Reyna remarked from the corner couch.
“Am I that easy to read, Ms Reyna?” Harbor shot back a wry grin.
“You know, if you were interested in that one you could have asked absolutely anyone in the protocol about her. Always the same answer.”
“Barking up the wrong tree… I take it?”
Reyna took another sip of her god-forsaken whisky concoction. “Quick learner,” she remarked.
“Ah well,” Harbor mused. “Definitely worth a shot.”
#valorant chamber#chamber x reader#vincent fabron#valorant x reader#harbor x reader (one-sided)#harbor valorant#varun batra#reyna valorant#give the woman some whisky popcorn it was too early in the morning for this stupidity#also Harbor enjoyers unite jesus christ im sorry i had to shoehorn him in but im down HORRENDOUS#lozcanons#valorant
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warm, like you with me
MHA fanfic commission!
Request: Yagi realizes how touch starved he is after fleeting touches from the staff of UA. When giving him papers or passing him a mug for tea. It sparks the urge to continue these touches, but doesn’t know how to ask for it. Aizawa, being as perceptive as he is, notices this. Now he tries to find a way to open up the possibility for them to have that kind of relationship. Both end up cuddling on the couch in the UA teacher’s lounge when staying late working on grading. Falling asleep in each other’s arms. (Queerplatonic Erasermight)
800 ish words.
~~~
Toshinori has never liked the cold. The ache settling in his bones, dragging out old memories of long nights of staring at nothing and hoping the sun might peek through the dreary skies, smoke and ash clogging his lungs back then as blood does now.
He finds warmth in small things. The coat on his shoulders, the heater by his desk, Kayama tapping his arm, Yamada leaning over his shoulder, Aizawa’s hand brushing his as he gives him some papers--
Toshinori can’t remember many times someone touched him without trying to hit him or using their quirk with malicious intent. He’d like a hug every now and then. Why can’t villains try to hug people to death? It would certainly be nicer than having his nose broken again.
His coworkers are nice. Welcoming, even if it was a little awkward at first. He eventually found his little place in the strange puzzle that was the UA staff. His own little corner next to the heater. Able to embrace the warmth blossoming in his chest with every word spoken to him, every gaze his way, every fleeting touch. Gentle, kind, soft.
It’s something he’s scared to break. To him, the peace is fragile and he’s a big bumbling bull in a china shop. A storm blowing wind around a flickering flame that he’s terrified of blowing out.
Careful.
~~~
Shouta didn’t notice at first. Or, well, he didn’t really care to notice. All Might had more than enough fans hyper-analyzing his every move and Shouta had no reason to become one of them. All Might was a coworker and Shouta treats coworkers the way he treats work; professionally but with the occasional nap when he doesn’t feel like paying attention.
Yagi becomes something he cares about, though. It’s strange and Shouta doesn’t understand. He doubts he ever will.
He cares, he notices. Simple as that. If things matter to him, they’re jotted down and stored to get lost in his memory bank. The details about Yagi are no different. He has a very specific diet. Tends to cough a lot less when he’s sipping tea. Pulls on his bangs when upset in any way. Leans as close as humanly possible when someone is next to him without actually touching them.
He’s got some odd habits when it comes to touching, Shouta notices. Holding onto handshakes for a moment longer than necessary, moving to be closer to people nearby, waiting until he’s certain it’s alright to pat someone on the back or nudge their side. Fine with being touched, hesitant about touching. Hesitant about a lot of other things, too. Like going out or taking a day off. That’s one thing they have in common.
Well, that and horrendous sleep schedules.
“Why are you up at three in the morning?”
Yagi startles and Shouta is worried for a moment that he might’ve given the man a heart attack. “Is it-?” The blond looks from Shouta to his screen, squinting at the corner of his screen. Shouta can see the moment he realizes that he’s been hunched over his computer in the teachers lounge for several hours longer than he’d planned. Yagi sputters, stumbling and searching for something to stay before finally settling on “Why are you up?!”
“Patrol. Late night shift. Came back to take a nap because here’s closer than my place.”
“Oh.”
Shouta snorts, stepping over and clicking the keys to save Yagi’s work before shutting off the computer, much to the hero’s dismay.
“I was almost finished!” Yagi says.
“Then finish what’s left in the morning,” Shouta replies.
“I wanted to do it now.”
“Too bad.”
Shouta tugs on his sleeve until the man gives in, standing and following the underground hero over to the couch.
“Shouldn’t I go home?”
Shouta raises an eyebrow. “Do I look like I trust you to make it back?”
Yagi decides not to respond. He flops back onto the couch, expression melting into a tired look as he stares at the ceiling. Shouta takes one of the neatly folded blankets on the armrest and tosses it over the taller man. He sits next to him, ignoring the odd look sent his way in favor of tugging at the blanket. “Don’t hog.”
“Sorry.” The blanket gets moved properly between them. Yagi seems to want to say something, mouth opening and closing a few times before he finds the right words. “Is this… alright?”
“This?” Shouta pulls the blanket up to his shoulders and shrugs. “I’m alright if you’re alright.”
“Alright. I mean-- yeah…” Toshinori nods, relaxing at that and leaning against Shouta.
“Anyway,” Shouta hums tiredly, “what were you workin’ on?”
Toshinori makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “English essays Yamada-kun needed help with. The third years-- the topics they chose were ridiculous.”
Shouta nods absently as Toshinori rambles, voice fading in and out as the both of them begin to succumb to the human body’s need for sleep.
It’s quite comfortable. Quite warm here together.
#writing commission example#fanfic#toshinori yagi#all might#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#aizawa shouta#shouta aizawa#eraserhead#yagi toshinori#queerplatonic erasermight#fluff#writing#writing commissions
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Do better
✴︎ pairing : Kyungsoo x Reader
✴︎ genre : angst, stubborn characters, yearning, sensitive-themes, idol!kyungsoo , more angst, kyungsoo is a jerk here but reader is also stubborn
✴︎ summary : In which Do Kyungsoo is reader’s best friend and he wants her to do better.
✴︎ warning : TW disordered eating (starving habits, relapse), trauma, mild cursing.
This fanfic contains themes of disordered-eating, some taken from my own experience. However if there are any misinformations that you would like me to take down, please do let me know and I will be happy to. Lastly, in no way whatsoever I am promoting disordered-eating habits. We are beautiful, in our own ways, inside and out. Therefore, there is no need for us to change our appearances for others.
✴︎ word count : 4.1K
✴︎ author’s note : This was so fun to write honestly! I spent all my pent-up anger writing this fic… I might do a part two because clearly, this fic is unfinished (let me know if we want a part two) Anyways, enjoy! As usual any form of appreciation is very well appreciated!
—
It’s been exactly 8 weeks since you stopped speaking with THE Do Kyungsoo.
Yes, you meant Do Kyungsoo the idol, the talented chef, the amazing singer and also THE best friend, not to mention THE imbecile.
Silent treatments, were a common occurrence especially with the stubbornness you both shared when it comes to giving in for the greater good. However this was the longest period of silence that you both had gone through and frankly for you, there’s no room for truce.
The reason behind it couldn’t be more trivial.
Three weekends before, you had gone on a blind-date with a mutual friend, both of you were set-up by one of your colleagues. The date went smoothly, he was a polite gentleman who offered to pick you up and took you home. Before the date, he asked about your food preference too, in which you appreciated the gesture. Overall, he’s an all rounder and you’re totally sure you’d like another date with him, even if both of you weren’t looking for anything serious. It was just nice to have someone to spend your weekend with.
You were astounded to say the least, that the very nice gentleman sent you a set of fine bone china mugs with penguins on them, your favourite animal, duh. He also sent a letter, mentioning your love for coffee and penguins and how he’d thought of you when he came across the mugs a while ago. He wished that you would use the set to enjoy your morning coffee every morning.
—
On a given Sunday, Kyungsoo was supposed to come over to your place for a playdate since you haven’t seen each other in forever. He arrived with groceries and snacks for a pasta cook-out, he always mentioned that you were always too thin and too cold for his liking–that’s why he’s always so keen to feed you delicious and nutritious meals, even though you really didn’t like eating in general.
You both settled on the dining table with each a cup of tea in hand and a plate of cookies that he’d baked beforehand, they were oatmeal and vanilla almond- with the least amount of sugar, suited to your liking.
After a much needed catch-up session and a plate with nothing left more than cookie crumbs, you helped him prep the ingredients for his anchovy pasta. In which, you chose to casually slip the bomb of ‘I’ve met a nice guy, we had a couple of dates, he was such a gentleman, he even gave me these super cute mugs.’
At your narrative, Kyungsoo replied with soft hums and nods before replying, “You know y/n— I really think he might be taking advantage of you.” He nonchalantly said while stirring the fettuccine, calmly raising the pasta strands with a fork to check how they’d cook through.
“W-what? Where did that come from?”
“Why else would he be showering you gifts like these?” He waved around the penguin mug in front of your face in an irritating manner.
You gasp at his groundless accusation, “Soo! He’s clearly just being a nice- decent human being! How could you accuse him of such things?!”
You were literally in disbelief. Your best friend was usually the logical one in the friendship and having him belittle a guy like this, left you perplexed. He had no reasons whatsoever to insult a stranger, more so-your date.
The timer rang before he had a chance to reply. In his relaxed composure, he turned off the stove and strained the pasta, moving them to the pan next to it. He continued cooking for a while, mixing the fettuccine with the pan-seared anchovies and tomato. If you haven’t been friends with him for all these years, you would probably be left speechless at how he just left you mid-conversation to tend to his cooking- but here you are, still amazed at how engrossed the man is in finishing his dish before anything else. He added the last touch of basil before facing his back to the kitchen counter as he faced you with a judging look, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Y/n… You really are gullible sometimes, huh? He gave you a set of mugs and now you’re so swooned that you’re defending him? Over me- your best friend?” He half mocked you and rolled his eyes, giving off a much less of a smirk.
“W- what?! I am not! I can’t believe you right now? Can you hear yourself and how ridiculous you’re being right now?”
“Me? Ridiculous? What’s so ridiculous about protecting a best friend from strangers she just met!?” He exclaimed, shoulders shrugging showing his indifference.
“He- he’s not a stranger! I told you! Why can’t you be happy that I had a good date?” You sassed back.
“I’m a man and I can see right through him! He’s just a jerk wanting a hookup from you!” He raised his voice.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” You barked at his accusations.
“I got a nice date once and suddenly I’m gullible?” Anger seeping through your every word. You weren’t thinking clear anymore, all you see was red, you can feel the rage rising in the back of your head,
“You know what Soo? I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry that you’re jealous- and so fucking sorry for you because your glamorous idol life left you love deprived!”
The damage was done. You’ve said it and now you only wished you could take it back. You stopped yourself as you covered your foul mouth with regret. Your eyes were shaking as you looked at him with remorse.
He stared back at you, eyes unmoving. He was sometimes unreadable like this. It was in his character really, the unpredictability and the stealth gaze, often left you wondering what’s going on inside his head. He clicked his tongue once, enough to startle you and diverted your whole attention to him. He hummed, another habit of his. You mentally braced yourself for the storm coming.
“Love deprived?” he darkly chuckled, your penguin mug on the counter, under his hold.
“That’s the lowest you could do?” His smirk wiped away from his face as he gave a flat expression while pushing the mug away from the counter with force.
The scene flashed before your eyes, the penguin-faced mug hitting the floor, the clashing sound of china in contact with the marble floor rang through your ears. You gasp in shock as the mug shattered in pieces and there was nothing you could do but stare at the once cute cup.
You had your mouth hanging open- speechless, unaware that you were shaking. The crime scene unveiling in front of you left you appalled and you wondered if this person is the best friend you’ve always known your whole life.
“Shame. You could’ve done better Y/n,” he pauses, “Maybe you’ll realise that you have better options than Mr. Penguin Mugs.”
Your body kept shuddering as you tried to gain composure,
“Get out.” You trembled.
“Two can play a game, Y/n” His voice taunting yet his face stoic, staring at you.
“Out!” you screamed at him
So much emotions were whirring inside of you that your eyes water. Anger? Yes, a lot of rage was brewing in you but disappointment and sadness was an understatement.
“WHO the hell are you and what have you done to Kyungsoo!” Your sudden voice must’ve taken him by surprise as his eyes were back to normal, you walked up to him hitting his chest with little to no energy,
“I don’t want a fucking asshole as a friend! You’re not welcome here!”
If you were angry seconds ago, now you feel like crying.
“Leave!” as you pointed at the door, gesturing him to leave.
Kyungsoo bent down to pick up remnants of the penguins face, slowly placing them on the counter, like it could change a thing.
His next action took you by surprise as he scooped the rest of the broken china with bare hands to throw the shards to the nearest bin, hurting himself in the process. You found that a bit later though, when a drop of blood stain was evident on the lid of your trash can.
He exhaled a breath, “Eat. Do not skip meals. Don’t be stupid. Call me when you stop being foolish.”
You wordlessly trembled, standing with no more energy in your figure as he exited your apartment.
—
Ever since the messy encounter with him 8 weeks ago, a lot had changed.
You stopped contacting Mr. Penguin Mugs a week after your fight with Kyungsoo, you just didn’t have the heart to deal with the lovely man and it broke your heart (a little) that you threw away the chance to be with a nice guy. But a certain someone did fill your thoughts during that time, a certain imbecile with heart-shaped lips that you would really like to hate.
Again, you had your fair shares of silent wars with him but this one hurts the most, or at least your pride did. You could recall his last memo of him, asking you to not skip meals but you decided that Do Kyungsoo was not the boss of you. You didn’t care, you weren’t gonna listen to him.
The fight did trigger you and even though it was childish of you to purposely skip meals, you began to refrain from eating at all. In the back of your head, you knew better than this, you were better than this, however without Kyungsoo by your side to aid you, you faltered.
In the past years, you had a history with disordered eating. Coming from an almond-mum and a Korean all girls school, appearance was something vital to maintain, yet it resulted in you finding ridiculously dangerous ways to abstain yourself from eating.
It was a rough patch but all those years, Soo was there for you. He’d do the cooking, the persuading and the gentle praising, making sure he won’t overwhelm you. Kyungsoo might seem reserved and unreadable at times but he was full of care, too much even- to the point that you felt like a walking ‘handle-with-care’ sticker.
After you recover, you’ve managed to fix your relationship with food a bit better but there are times where the wounds would open up. You haven’t relapsed in a long time now, having to attend coaching sessions for healthy intuitive eating programs and having Soo on the sidelines to support you.
Nevertheless, your relapse now was justified that at this point you were blinded by hurt. You were in pain and no one was there to aid you this time.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure that the constant meal skipping would lead to fatigue, weight loss and eventually malnutrition, which is exactly what you’re suffering right now. The worse thing than losing your best friend is this, but hey you’re experiencing both of them at the same time! In your defense, you did try to get better, drinking spinach juice to try to fill the anguish hunger in your stomach, just to throw it all up again.
Honestly back then, when you experienced disordered eating, spinach juice was your holy grail that kept you full for longer hours without having to physically chew anything. Yet as your metabolism went to shambles, your body wouldn’t cooperate with any of the food you intake.
—
Kyungsoo wasn’t doing any better.
Seconds after he looked at your startled face and stepped foot out of your apartment, he wished time travel existed. He admits that he was an asshole but he didn’t mean to get things that far and he’d say those things to protect you even though he failed to project them in a nicer-manner (which was totally why he’s at fault, he knows this too-by the way). He wanted to apologise the next day-though he thought that giving you space would be a better option as he was scared to hurt you further. What he didn’t expect was the silence that went on for weeks.
Kyungsoo busied himself, he had his filming schedules packed as tight as possible and he picked up projects like they were cherries on trees. Even the members were astonished when he brought up his contract to join a variety show, which was so unexpected of him. All the time not talking to you left him confused, if he was really trying to protect you or if he was jealous of you, or your date. He tried brushing it off, but you were always on the back of his mind. He’d try figuring out how he feels about you but that would spiral in a worse direction, he didn’t have the heart to admit that he misses you, his best friend.
—
On the sixth-week mark of your cold war, you were admitted to the hospital for severe malnutrition and extreme weight loss. Chanyeol was the one who hospitalised you.
Chanyeol—who became friends with you because of Kyungsoo–had visited you a couple times after the fight to check up on you. You wanted to turn your back on him and his hospitality but the friendly man with cute giant ears was so hard to refuse.
Initially, Chanyeol’s visit were out of concerns due to the fight you had with Kyungsoo, but the visits became frequent when he noticed you became leaner by the day, your moves were slower and it was visible that performing simple task were difficult for you.
He tried his best to discreetly offer professional help, even though he wasn’t aware of your disordered eating history, he simply wanted to help without offending you, in which you declined politely, saying you were fine.
That day, even with arduous attempts to conceal your weakness, your body soon gave up after opening the door for Chanyeol. Given your conditions, you had no room to refuse anymore as Chanyeol carried you to the hospital. The only thing you managed to muster before blacking out was,
“Don’t tell Kyungsoo.”
On the week you were hospitalised, Kyungsoo was busy filming somewhere in a rural area in Japan. It was a fresh experience, a breath of fresh air for his career yet all he could think of was you.
The eight-week mark had passed and after two weeks of being hospitalised, it was a shame that you didn’t show signs of improvement regardless of the constant IV that kept you at bay. That’s the thing with relapsing, you know this, nothing will work unless you want to get better—and you haven’t found a reason to do so.
But it was a little bit bearable when Chanyeol came in to visit, sometimes bringing other members with him to cheer you up and give you extra encouragement. You particularly love when he brings Minseok along, the older was the most well-mannered of the bunch and he just feels like an older brother.
—
The sliding door of your hospital ward suddenly slammed open, you instinctively diverted your attention to the door, finding a familiar figure walking in with eyes ready to shoot lasers at you.
“W-what the fuck?” you eyed him. “Why the hell are you here? What are you doing here?”
You were surprised at your energy to snap at the man whilst you half-sat on a hospital bed with an IV attached on your hand. And here I thought I was weak.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Why the fuck are you here?” he retorted, “I heard you’re sick but I’m surprised that your stupidity still tags along after 2 months.” he scorned, his bluntness never goes away huh?
“W-what? What did you say to me?”
“Even though we’re fighting and you’re mad you could’ve hit me instead. Yell, scream, curse at me- I couldn’t care less if you did,” he paused, “but why would you starve yourself again?”
By the tone of his voice, although you could pick up his anger- his disappointment, you really didn’t want to put down your ego.
“I’m not here because of you, idiot. Now what are you doing here? Go away” You countered him.
“Are you blind? As you can see I’m visiting a friend. A very sick and a stubborn one at that.” he managed to scoff at your act. You rolled your eyes, not even baffled at this point.
“No one told you to. Now, leave.” you pointed at the door.
“A little tall birdie did, he begged me to come.” he stills on the ends of the hospital bed
“Well, thanks for coming but you are really uninvited here. Please follow the door to exit.” you gave him a sarcastic smile.
“And if I won’t comply? What are you gonna do?” he taunts back. “Would you tell Chanyeol or Sehun to take me away? And why do you think they’ll comply with your request? They’re scared of me more than of Junmyeon-Hyung,” he looked around the room before focusing his eye-contact back to you.
“The only thing you could do to kick me out in your sickly state is call the nurse… that’s if, you’re willing to bear the consequence of reporting an idol?” he rambled.
“Oh you little shit..”
“Don’t you little shit me,” he mocked back,
“You know, Chanyeol might’ve given away your conditions but he’s certainly not the one watching MY reality show for the past weeks.”
You mentally cursed.
He gave out a laugh, before continuing in a stern tone,“The only person logged in my SBS account is you. Did you miss me so badly that you liked all those clips using my account?”
“Do better, y/n.” he finished, before abruptly leaving the room.
You were left astounded, just like the moment he exited your apartment 8 weeks ago. But this time, not long after, he came back bringing what looked like a lunchbox. He quietly sat down on the chair next to your bed while opening one of the containers, you only could stare at him in confusion.
Do Kyungsoo was indeed unpredictable.
“Do better, eat better, y/n. So you can fight me again.” He spoke up before offering a spoonful of porridge to your mouth. You gazed at the spoon in front of you before shifting back at him. You silently refused.
“Open up,” he said softly and you did. There was something about his voice that made you comply with his requests, like it was laced with care and concern.
You opened your mouth and carefully swallowed his cooking. The taste wasn’t foreign to you, it was his pumpkin and sweet potato porridge. He made it for you every time you’re upset, making the dish your ultimate comfort food. After the first spoonful, you were bracing yourself for a reflux but it never came, you were able to stomach his food just fine.
“Good girl” he praised you before handing another scoop to your mouth, asking you to have more.
As you ate quietly, he spoke,
“You need to do better than this y/n. You need energy to curse at me- hit me…and that’s why you need to eat to recover,” his forehead creased as he expressed his thoughts yet it didn’t stop him from feeding you every spoon.
“It’s- It’s so frustrating you know? Looking at you like this… I-I almost lost it when Chanyeol called saying you’ve been admitted for two weeks! I was in Japan and I never wanted to pack my bags so quickly..”
“Y-you..You’re so frustrating-“ he let out a breath he unconsciously held. You could see his eyes weren’t as calm, like he had other complaints he’d like to express but he held back. With the last spoonful, he closed the container and discarding it back to the lunchbox.
He softly muttered, “Rest well, I’ll be back tomorrow,” he gave a quick peck on the crown of your head, an action that surprised you, before leaving the ward.
He did come back the next day and the day after that, and another day after that. He made sure that he was the first sight you see in the morning.
This time, he brought chicken soup. Sadly, the smell didn’t react well with your body as you instantly gagged. He immediately rushed you to the bathroom, pulling your IV off in one smooth motion in the process, leaving you unscathed even with the sudden movement .
You managed to hold it in until you reached the toilet bowl. As you threw up, you helplessly cried, Kyungsoo kept still and supported your figure by the elbows. He softly grasped your hair away from you while you hurled the contents of your stomach. The action left you breathless, exhausted as tears stained your face while you slid down the bathroom floor, you really didn’t have any energy left.
You pity yourself for your relapse, it felt- disgraceful of you to do so. You hid your face with your hands as you sobbed. Fucking disgusting, you told yourself.
Kyungsoo was distressed seeing you like this, especially the fact that he might have some contributions to your relapse, it was even more upsetting for him. He didn’t hug you, he was too much of a coward for that. So he did what he could. Kyungsoo grabbed some napkins and a glass of water outside and came back into the bathroom. He kneeled down to gently tap the hands covering your face, signalling that he’d like to see your face. You slightly look up to see a calm attentive face, care- radiating from his eyes. He wiped your tears and then your mouth, offered you a warm glass of water in which you accepted without repulse.
Both of you stayed quiet for a while before muttering, “Let’s go back to bed.”
He helped you stand up, tucked you back in the hospital bed and called the nurse to reattach the IV he skilfully dismantled. The nurse went berserk on him when she learned of the incident. The situation was truly unpredictable but his actions could’ve seriously injured you. He mumbled his apologies as he nodded in regret while listening to the nurse’s scoldings. Not long after, she left both of you to your own devices.
“Don’t say anything, please?” you quietly begged while looking at him.
Today felt like your turn to burst. He nods without hesitation, firmly holding eye contact with you.
“I’m tired Soo…” you audibly exhaled, tears welled on your already puffed eyes.
You took your time to look at the light blue colour of the hospital blanket, then shifted your eyes to the ceiling of the ward while trying to find words to carry on the conversation.
“I am-“ you stuttered, “f-fuck. I’m fucking tired, you know?”
You just… didn’t have the energy as your tears flowed through your hollow cheeks, dropping to your chin and eventually wetting the blanket. His eyes never left you, catching each and every of your pained expressions.
You had lost your spark, the burning passion and gleam behind your eyes were gone. Your being felt hollow, just a soulless body- empty, dull and glum.
He despised it, the dullness in your eyes. He hated it with all his heart, knowing his efforts were meaningless since he couldn’t stop you from getting worse. He loathes the fact that this time, he was helpless when the love of his life, his best friend, his light, is giving up in front of his eyes.
“Soo…” you whispered, reaching out for his hand with sorrowful eyes. He instantly held yours, warmth emitting from his hold as he looked at you with so much care. Even intertwining hands with you broke his heart at the coldness of your touch.
“Do better, okay?” you let go of his hand from your hold.
The wet tracks of your tears hadn’t stopped yet you managed to prop up an expressionless gaze as you stared at him. You were in pain, so was he, and you didn’t want to hurt him more.
He knew what you meant, he knew what you wanted him to do.
He knew exactly what to do, not that he wanted to.
He was your lifeline, a drug to salvation- You needed to heal without him.
He didn’t understand, he had so many questions formulating in his head but he knew better than to pry. He was hurt but prying meant hurting you further, which was the last thing he’d do.
He stood up, kissed your cheeks, stroked your hair and pecked the crown of your head one last time before heading out to the door.
He slammed the sliding door hard, hopefully to let you know how wrong of you to ask him to leave. But he never looked back, because he was too much of a coward for that.
—
a/n: should we do a part 2 ??
#kyungsoo fanfic#kyungsoo fic#exo kyungsoo#exo#exo fiction#exo fanfic#exo scenarios#exo fic#exo scenario#exo imagines#exo story#kyungsoo imagine#kyungsoo scenario#kyungsoo story#kyungsoo#kyungsoo series#kyungsoo x reader#exol#do kyungsoo#kyungso fanfics#exo fanfics#exo fictions#kyungsoo x you#kyungsoo fanfics#kyungsoo fluff#kyungsoo fan fictions#kyungsoo fiction#kyungsoo angst#Kyungsoo#d.o exo
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a drabble-y hunger games-verse thing, here it is, from my head into yours
The dining table was quiet. Gwyn sat with her hands around a mug of tea; once upon a time, early on, she and Owen had had only a little house on the corner made of slanting two-by-fours and tape. This was not the first time she had seen someone she loved head into the games. She did not bank on seeing a second person making it back.
A crash, from the kitchen, expensive dinner plates and fine china slamming to the ground because Owen had kicked a cupboard and the shelf collapsed. Gwyn shut her eyes. She should have done more. This entire time their son had been screaming out for help and she hadn’t been able to be here as much as she ought to have been, and Owen was barely here at all. The games changed him. It was strange to not be sitting in the silent quiet of alone she had when Owen was out and TK was looking for the things he was missing, and she had a dining table in an empty house, large and grand and extravagant and in the middle of District 1.
“Owen,” she said, tired. So incredibly tired. The crashing stopped. “He made his choice, Owen. There isn’t any going back from that.”
“This family has already given to the game.” Owen rounded the arch of the doorway and Gwyn felt a lurch at the snatch of the man she had fallen in love with. “They can’t do it. They can’t take him.”
“He volunteered, Owen.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Owen was always like this. Always had some bone to pick with the fact Gwyn did not go off the rails, tried hard to contain it, to be present rather than reacting. This was real. Their son was in the games. Pissing off the Capitol by whinging about it loud enough the neighbours might hear - which was saying something, ‘cause they had an expansive garden - was not going to do him any favours.
“Of course I’m upset.” TK was currently in ‘holding’. Owen was going to be TK’s mentor before the games, Gwyn realised, suddenly: he would have so much more time with their son than she ever would again. “But making a scene the neighbours can hear is–”
“I’m angry.” He took a step toward her.
“I can see that.”
“Good. Obviously you’ve resigned yourself to our son getting himself killed but I’m not about to–”
“You will get him killed. If you challenge the game or kick up a fuss or act like it’s anything other than an honour. The Capitol is watching. Right now he stands a chance, even a little one, if you set the Gamemaster on him he’ll be dead the second he steps into the Game.”
“He’ll be dead anyway!”
“Do you think I’m not aware?” this, here, was where Gwyn’s voice rose, just a degree, just enough to serve as warning and threat. She was not about to sit here and be yelled at by some man who had walked out on them for years, who had no idea what TK and Gwyn had been through, who had not seen TK’s face when he had his eighth birthday, after Dad was home, and the house was big, and his friends were far away, and Dad did not come. “But for once in your life this isn’t about you, Owen. TK needs you. He will die.”
“He doesn’t want to be like me.” Said with such conviction.
“Your son has only ever wanted to be close to you.” Shit. She had not meant to say it that plainly.
A beat. They stared at each other.
“You think he volunteered because of me?”
If they could have broken up, divorced and separated after the games, without it getting their family targeted for being anything other than perfectly happy and blissful, post-games? Gwyn would have left already.
She would have taken TK. God, she should have taken TK while she still could.
She closed her eyes, took a breath, head shaking. “I don’t want to do this, Owen.”
“Why would he volunteer because of me?” It was so beyond his scope of imagination. So outside of something he could possibly imagine.
“It doesn’t matter. That’s not what I meant to say.”
Gwyn felt sick. She had not yet so much as sipped her tea. The teabag – a new thing from one of the districts, tea leaves in a fine silk bag; it did not require straining; she liked to think of the weaver’s family, the farmers who grew the leaves, the people who would benefit from a purchase marked up as high as this was marked up – sat, spent and limp, in the water. She had not let herself feel grief today. TK had locked eyes with her after climbing up to the stage, his green eyes so alive and maybe scared by what he’d done, maybe afraid, maybe just sorry. It had just been TK and mum for so long. He was leaving her behind.
She would never have stopped her son from growing and going on, doing all he wanted with his life, he deserved all of it. Deserved the world. It did not feel like being left behind, to see him grow.
But she could not watch him die.
“Just… promise me you’ll help him, Owen. Train him. Give him what he needs.”
“He’s our son.” Like that was so obviously a given that it was somehow unfair to be asked, in these circumstances.
“And when people ask you tell them it’s an honour. You tell them you’re sure he’ll win. He’ll need donors.”
“So we’re wishing the other twenty-three–”
“I am protecting my son. It is my job.” Sharp, and with very narrow room for argument. Gwyn did not want to think about any of the other kids being sent to their deaths. When he was old enough, maybe, when he was no longer in danger of being chosen, maybe they would have protested; she would have liked to; she would have liked to do something about it. But not while he was in danger. Not while they could take him.
He volunteered, today.
“It is our job,” she reclaimed that word. ‘Our’. Shared. “Promise me.”
Owen sighed, a long, deep, shaky breath. He came to sit at the table across from her, chair scraping. The dining room’s table had always been long and empty and alienating. Gwyn longed some days for two-by-fours and tape.
Owen said, “I promise.”
#v; thg (tbt)#none of this is tk so can i really tag it 'ic'#ic#ic -> owen#ic -> gwyn#but do i write gwyn?????? not really
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something that surprised me with clay is how different clay is from clay. I have literally only used midfire stoneware clays (think ordinary mug, not bone china just kinda a mug) and yet still my black clay is an absolute dream to throw (and a nightmare to clean up), the buff stoneware is slightly grainy and textured, not quite as satisfying but still lovely, and now I'm using a white clay which is SO fine that actually it just feels like mud, like there's no texture in there at all, compared to the white we used in my first class which felt like sandpaper...
so much variety so much to learn and play with!
#should this have surprised me? me who knows the difference between romney and merino? me who knows the difference between chiffon tussah#and dupion silk? absolutely not#there is specificity in every craft#and yet#pottery
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ffxivwrite 2023: extra credit day
Krile got everyone their own teacups for afternoon tea. Krile’s teacup was a simple yellow cup with white polka dots. The twins had matching carbuncle cups, with a blue one for Alphinaud and a red one for Alisaie. Thancred’s teacup was a plain white scalloped cup, and Urianger got a black and gold porcelain cup with patterns of stars on the saucer. Y’shtola’s teacup was a delicate gray thing, carved with patterns of whorling ivy, with a curling handle painted in deepest emerald. G’raha’s cup looked like a fat cat. Estinien, who refused to join in on afternoon tea, only had a water glass.
Minfilia’s teacup, a pink bone china cup painted with roses, was tucked away safely in a cupboard at the Annex. It sat next to Papalymo’s garish pineapple mug–a gift from Lyse.
“We ought to get Yuma a new teacup,” said Tataru. She poured herself some blood currant black tea. “And I believe I shall buy one for myself as well. Rowena’s homeware is a tad gauche, don’t you think Krile?”
“Huh? Oh, well, I think it’s fine,” said Krile through a mouthful of shortbread crumbs.
Yuma’s teacup was bought from Rowena at a clearance sale. It was a featureless white cup with an equally plain saucer, and next to Tataru’s painted flower cup, it was definitely a boring sight. The Warrior of Light deserved something better for teatime. Something with a little more oomph.
Krile had a catalog of handcrafts from local artisans, because Tataru had been stressing about the importance of supporting small businesses lately. It was also a happy coincidence that Tataru’s boutique just happened to be featured on the catalog’s first page. She made her way to Physis Technon, where Yuma was currently hospitalized after the Ragnarok returned from their trip to the stars, bringing with her the catalog and a pen.
The Loporrits did a remarkable job healing Yuma aboard the starship, but the sages of Physis Technon were adamant in having her stay for at least a week to monitor her in case any wounds reopened. Alphinaud had been going in and out of there as well ever since Alisaie teased him about potentially having alien brain parasites.
Krile knocked on the hospital room door. “It’s me, Krile! Are you awake, Yuma?”
No response. Krile gently pushed the door open and peeked inside. Yuma was asleep on the cot, snoring softly. The curtains on the window were drawn back, letting sunlight stream in. Sparkling on the nightstand was Azem’s brilliant orange crystal, and beside the crystal were a few get well soon cards and a box of carrot-flavored chocolates from Livingway.
“Well, I’ll just drop this off here then,” said Krile. She placed the catalog on the nightstand along with a note: Be sure to circle which teacup you want!
Krile quietly tip-toed out and shut the door behind her. She’ll let Yuma snooze for a few more hours.
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Well, Aim, I really hope you know that I think the world of both you AND your writing, but I've also always had the suspicion that you have the most magically bitchin' hair in real life and that you're the type of person who's nice to every little animal that looks like it needs it. (OOooh, and are you a cat or dog person?) I've also always gotten a real strong earl gray and fine bone china teacup vibe off of you. Love!😘
I hope my hair irl is pretty cool! At this exact moment, it looks like Justin Timberlake's ramen hair because I'm mid-dye and just finished bleaching it, but normally it is Blue. I wear it in a ballet bun 99% of the time because I hate having hair in my face. I've posted like three selfies in the last 12 years, so there are a couple of hair photos somewhere on my blog.
I am VERY nice to every animal. You should see me at a petting zoo, I'm like snow white but with large bovines instead of bluebirds. I'm a dog person 10000% -- I'm horribly allergic to cats, and they also creep me out a little bit (probably because I'm allergic to them so they're always sneaking up on me and making my eyes swell).
I do like earl gray and a nice tea set, but I like tea in quantities that make funky mugs a better option for everyday use than teacups. I do have a really pretty black-and-white mod tea set that I got as a high school grad gift, though! If you're ever in the market to try a fancy tea, Twinings' Lady Grey is actually my preferred bergamot variant -- it's got some mandarin or tangerine or something in it as well, and it's really nice.
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hello, it’s me. I’ve thought about you for a long, long time… time for my 3 year update… Every once in a while I just think about tumblr and get extremely sentimental. Made so many friends on here and one day we just all decided to never speak again, I guess. My account got hacked and I lost a lot of followers because of it. Oh well, hope they’re fine. I no longer live in Nashville. I still am working with the artist that I was referring to in my previous post (Penny Lame, pictured here), except now we’ve been in a deeply committed relationship for a year and a half, and we live in Los Angeles with our dog (made a goofy video with him that accidentally went viral in China, Koda, and our cat, Joni. I love Gracen dearly and she apparently loves me.
I kept making music videos for all these years. After surviving COVID, I took a step back from that. It was the same situation where I felt like I wasn’t making what I need to make for my soul. I was getting lazy and pumping out thoughtless drivel and wasn’t happy with it. Last one I made was in November of last year. I liked that one a great deal. I got a job, instead, making videos for a tech company. I hate this job with every bone in my body, but it sure is nice not being a freelancer anymore. I’m saving up money to make a short film that I think is going to change my life. It’s hard to save much of anything right now though. Have a lot of debt hanging over me and California is expensive. I don’t get paid nearly as much as I was led to believe I was going to make, but I like the guys I work with.
I drive a motorcycle now. Bought as a pile of scrap and fixed it up to be my dream motorcycle from when I saw it on this very website when I was 13. A yellow 1973 Honda CB500. It’s pictured here, on a road trip to Utah that ended with my bike on fire and me stranded in the most nothing town in America (think Radiator Springs from Cars, that’s exactly it, mechanic that helped me was even named Doc) for 5 days, truly a life changing experience.
I also recently bought a 1983 Porsche 944 to learn how to work on cars. It broke down the second day I had it and it’s been a 4 month struggle trying to get it to run again. Wish me luck there.
As of right now, I don’t feel especially happy, nor do I feel an immense sense of sadness. I feel like I’m on the cusp of something really good happening to me, and I’m just in an awkward waiting period. California has been hard. I’ve lived here for 2 years now. I’ve been mugged (but you should see the other guys), hit by 2 cars, then COVID started and my car was stolen, tires on motorcycle blew out while I was riding, and I am exhausted. I’m treading water as hard as I possibly can, trying to stay afloat. I think everything will turn out alright. Sometimes it does. I can’t wait for my next 3 year update. If I remember, maybe we’ll go for a yearly post.
Godspeed.
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Dunoon Fine Bone China Mug How To Play Golf By Cherry Denman Golf Memorabilia.
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Vintage Staffordshire English Tableware Fine Bone China Blue Floral Mug || SWtradepost - ebay
#coffee mugs#mugs#coffee#tea mug#cups#fine bone china mugs#tableware#christmas gifts#staffordshire mug
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Choosing the Perfect Dinnerware for Every Occasion
When it comes to setting a table, the dinnerware you choose is more than just a backdrop for your meals—it's an expression of style and function. Whether you're hosting a formal dinner party, enjoying a casual family meal, or setting up a festive holiday gathering, the right dinnerware can make all the difference. In this guide, we will explore how to select the best dinnerware sets that not only match the occasion but also elevate your dining experience.
Understanding Dinnerware Materials
Dinnerware comes in a variety of materials, each offering unique benefits and aesthetics:
Porcelain: Known for its fine quality and elegant appearance, porcelain is a popular choice for formal occasions. It's durable, non-porous, and can feature beautiful, intricate designs.
Stoneware: This is a great all-rounder. Stoneware dinnerware sets are sturdy and have a more casual, rustic feel. They are perfect for everyday use and come in a variety of earthy, rich tones.
Earthenware: This material offers an artisan look with its thicker build and rougher texture. It's less durable than porcelain and stoneware but is wonderfully suited for casual, cozy gatherings.
Melamine: If you have young children or love dining outdoors, melamine dinnerware is practically shatterproof and comes in a multitude of vibrant colors and designs.
Bone China: This is the pinnacle of fine dining elegance. Lightweight yet durable, bone china is ideal for both special occasions and everyday luxury.
Choosing the Right Set
Selecting the right dinnerware set involves considering several factors:
Occasion: Determine whether the set is for daily use or special occasions. This will guide your material choice.
Style: Match your dinnerware with the theme of your interior decor or the type of gatherings you frequently host. Whether modern, traditional, or eclectic, your dinnerware should complement your home’s aesthetic.
Color and Pattern: Neutral colors like white or beige are versatile and can mix with different table settings. Bold colors and patterns can be reserved for themed parties or seasonal table decor.
Durability and Care: Consider how much time and effort you are willing to invest in the care of your dinnerware. Porcelain and bone china often require more careful handling and storage than stoneware or melamine.
Must-Have Pieces in Your Dinnerware Set
A typical dinnerware set includes several pieces that serve various purposes:
Dinner Plates: The centerpiece of each place setting, used for the main course.
Salad Plates: Smaller than dinner plates, these are perfect for salads or desserts.
Soup Bowls: Deep enough to safely hold soup without splashing.
Dessert Bowls: Ideal for serving ice cream or fruit salad.
Mugs and Cups: For serving hot beverages like coffee or tea.
Caring for Your Dinnerware
To keep your dinnerware in pristine condition, follow these tips:
Handling: Handle your dinnerware with care to avoid chips and cracks. Stack plates carefully, and don’t slide them across each other.
Cleaning: Most porcelain, stoneware, and bone china are dishwasher safe, but hand washing is recommended to extend their life. Avoid abrasive cleaners and sponges.
Storage: Store your dinnerware in a cool, dry place. For extra protection, place napkins or felt dividers between the plates.
Conclusion
The right dinnerware not only complements your meals but also enhances your overall dining atmosphere. Whether you choose the timeless elegance of bone china, the rustic charm of stoneware, or the practicality of melamine, the perfect dinnerware set awaits. Remember to consider your lifestyle, your aesthetic preferences, and how you intend to use your dinnerware. With the right set, every meal can feel like a special occasion.
By focusing on quality, style, and practicality, you can select dinnerware that you will love for years to come. So set your table with confidence and let your personal style shine through at every meal!
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Ashley England Birdwatch Pheasant Coffee Mug Fine Bone China.
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Portobello By Design Hello Spring Bunny Collectible Coffee Tea Soup Mug.
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Kirkham FLORET All Over Floral Design Fine Bone China England Cup Mug.
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Crown Trent China Limited Fine Bone China , Bears Cup Mug Set of 2.
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