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skzdust · 3 months

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Room 514

Part 3

Sorry this part took so long! I finally had a ton of time to write this morning and I'm getting a lot done! I hope you guys all enjoy it!

Summary: You’re moving into a new suite halfway through your sophomore year at Stay University, populated by three guys: Jisung, Changbin, and Bang Chan. You meet their friends and quickly become a part of their group, but you find yourself wanting more with Jisung…

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Includes: sleepy reader, sleepy Jisung, shirtless Jisung, shopping, Jisung being a gentleman

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

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You blinked your eyes open as a beam of sunlight fell over your face.

Apparently, you’d fallen asleep in the living room. You didn’t remember putting a pillow next to Jisung and curling up with your head against it, nor did you remember Jisung going to get another blanket, but he must have at some point. You were still under the fluffy throw he’d brought out when you’d first started The Immortal and the Restless, and you could see a blue quilt out of the corner of your eye.

You carefully sat up, trying not to disturb Jisung. He was in the same fetal position you’d woken up in, with his head on top of the pillow instead of against it. His quilt was draped over him, and you could see the corner of the fabric scrunched in one of his hands. The morning light made his hair seem to glitter as the air from the ceiling vent gently played with it, and his face was serene and unguarded.

He rubbed one of his eyes as you stood up from the couch. You held your breath as he stretched. The blanket slid off his side as he unfolded his legs, and your eyes widened as his back arched.

He opened his eyes with a sleepy smile, and you made your expression as normal as possible.

He scrunched up his nose. “What’s wrong? You’re making a weird face.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m making a normal face.”

“Mhm.” He smiled again, closing his eyes and letting his head fall sideways onto the pillow. “Normal face.” He ran one of his hands through his hair.

You fought the urge to also run a hand through his hair. “How many episodes in did we get last night?”

He shrugged, eyes still shut. “Dunno. I think I turned it off after three, but they’re each an hour long and I was mostly asleep by the third one.”

“Yeah.” You yawned. “I only really remember the first half of the second one.”

“It’s okay. We can rewatch. No rush.”

“I liked what I remember.”

His smile grew a little bigger. “Good, glad to hear that. It’s one of my favorites.”

You looked at him for a moment longer. His eyes were still closed, and he looked so relaxed, more relaxed than you’d ever seen him.

He opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows, and your cheeks reddened.

“Staring? I know, I know, I’m gorgeous, you just can’t take your eyes off me.”

“That’s not it, I… you’re… ugh.”

He laughed softly. “Just kidding.” He stretched again and sat up. “I am gonna take a shower, though. Maybe we could do something after, if you don’t have calculus to do?”

You did your best not to imagine Jisung in the shower and waved a hand, dismissing both your thoughts and Jisung’s concern. “Calculus isn’t due until Tuesday. It’s Sunday. Plenty of time.”

“Okay, well, I’ll meet you out here in a few minutes and we’ll figure out somewhere to go.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

You went back to your room and sat on your bed, staring forward.

Did that really just happen?

You got changed and did your morning hygiene, changing your outfit a couple of times before deeming it good enough. You went back out to the living room and sat down on the couch, scrolling on your phone for a minute.

A staticky noise stopped, and you realized Jisung was still in the bathroom. He must’ve just turned off the shower.

A minute later, the bathroom door opened.

Jisung’s hair was wet, wearing a towel draped around his remarkably hot waist and… nothing else.

You looked down, hoping he wouldn’t notice you.

“I’ll be ready in a minute.” Jisung smiled at you as you looked at him.

You focused on keeping your eyes on his face and not his body, smiling back. “Cool.”

As Jisung disappeared into his room, you took a deep breath.

His body is perfect, too. That’s really not fair.

He walked out a minute later in a jeans and a green hoodie layered under a leather jacket. “Anything you’d like to do?”

You shrugged. “Nothing’s coming to mind except shopping, but I’m kinda broke right now, so I dunno about that.”

“We can try stuff on, though!” Jisung tossed his car keys from one hand to the other. “Come on, I’ll drive us to the mall.”

“Okay, I can try stuff on.”

Jisung beamed. “Perfect.”

The mall wasn’t particularly close, but it was a pleasant drive. You chatted the whole way, and Jisung was a good driver, unlike many of your friends—your old friends, you reminded yourself. Strangely, thinking of them didn’t hurt when you were with Jisung.

You parked and got out of the car, Jisung running around the front and opening your door for you.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” His smile was like sunshine as he shut the door behind you and locked the car.

You walked into the mall, and he took your hand, guiding you towards a store with a few cute tops in the window. “Ooh, these are cool!”

You walked in and found one of the tops in your size, a light green bustier with ruching across the front and cap sleeves. “Isn’t this one cute?”

“Very cute.” Jisung agreed. “You should try it on!” “I think I will.” You nodded and walked off in search of a dressing room.

You put on the top, struggling with it a bit before realizing there was a side zipper. It looked great on you, fitting like a glove.

You pulled back the curtain and walked out. “Jisung?”

“Here!”

You walked out to the sitting area outside the dressing rooms, doing a little twirl for him.

He smiled, watching you. “Beautiful, you look… amazing.”

“Aw, thank you.” You did a little curtsey, immediately realizing it made no sense since you weren’t wearing a skirt and the top wasn’t that fancy. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Jisung laughed. “It was cute. How much is the top?”

You tried not to think too hard about Jisung calling you cute and looked at the price tag, doing a double take. “Wow, 85 dollars.”

“Damn.” Jisung’s lips twisted. “It looks good, though. Do you want me to get it for you?”

“No, I couldn’t let you do that.” You waved off his offer. “I’d feel bad.”

“I want to, though!”

“I’d feel guilty, though!” You mirrored his language.

Jisung sighed. “Go change back, and we can keep looking, there was this sweater vest with an apple on the front that I really liked.”

“Why don’t you try it on? You’d probably eat it up.”

“I would.” Jisung preened. “Maybe I will.”

You walked back into the dressing room and put your T-shirt back on, carefully adjusting the top on its hanger and walking back out to Jisung. You hung it up on the return rack. “Where’s the sweater vest?”

“Over here.” He stood up, and you followed him to the sweater vests.

“It’s cropped! Cute.” You took it off the rack, feeling the material between your fingers. “Oh, it’s soft, too.”

“Perfect.” Jisung pulled out the vest in his size, and you went back to the dressing rooms. He pranced out a moment later with the sweater vest on.

The crop exposed the bottom part of his abs, and his arms were muscular. The combination of the light green of the trim, the red of the apple, and the cream background looked great on him.

You were reminded of earlier in the morning, when you’d seen him shirtless, and you could feel yourself go red.

“It looks great!”

“Everything okay? You look a little flushed.” Jisung looked concerned.

“Yeah.” You laughed. “All good, just a bit hot.”

“Yeah, it is warm in here.” Jisung nodded, and you exhaled, a little bit relieved. “But you like it?”

“I love it.” You said sincerely.

“Maybe I’ll get it.” He pulled at the hem. “It’s a little tight, but I want it a little tight. I like to wear either oversized stuff or tight stuff. No in between.”

“It’s a good style on you.” Both of those options are really hot.

“Okay, I’m gonna change out of this, if you want to look around a little more, I’ll find you.”

You stood up. “Okay, perfect.”

You walked over to one of the racks, looking at a pink satin top with a large bow across the front. It was cute, not quite your style, but very cute. You walked through the store, but nothing else caught your eye the way the green top had.

Someone tapped you on the shoulder, and you whirled you around, startled.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Jisung smiled, holding out a bag.

“Hm?”

“Look inside.”

You did so. Inside was your green top, a receipt stuffed on top of it.

You looked back up at him. “You did not.”

He gave you a mischievous smile. “I did.”

“Jisung! I told you it’d make me feel guilty!”

“Don’t feel guilty! I did it because I wanted to! It looks like it was made for you.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, taking the bag. “Thank you. I’ll wear it, I promise.”

“You definitely need to. I also got that sweater vest, which has green trim, so we can kinda match!”

“Perfect!”

“Perfect.” Jisung beamed.

#stray kids #stray kids fic #han #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #skz fic #han jisung #han x reader #han jisung x reader #skzdust writes #room 514

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tj-crochets · 30 days

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Do you have any tips about how to work on quilts? I’m just starting out and I’m in awe at how quickly you can make quilts and how beautiful they turn out.

Hey! Thanks, and welcome to quilting, it's a lot of fun! So, these tips are going to be a bit haphazard and out of order, because that's how I operate lol - do iron your fabric before you cut it - do iron your seams before sewing rows together, and before assembling your quilt sandwich - you can use the backing as the binding for your quilts and then you don't have to try to wrangle binding strips, it's all attached and easy to do - this one is going to sound kinda silly, but use fabric you like whenever you can. Even a super simple patchwork can be awesome if you use fabric you like, and the most complex intricate pattern can be terrible if you don't like the fabrics - sewing clips are the BEST. I think the brand name is clover wonder clips, but the generic is so much cheaper and nearly as good. You'll break the generic versions occasionally but they come like 100 for less than 10 bucks so you can throw away the broken ones and the rest still work. They are just so much faster than using pins - a rotary cutter, quilting ruler, and cutting mat make quilting so much easier - your seam allowance does not have to be 1/4". It can be whatever you want it to be, as long as you either account for it while making your pattern or use a pattern where it doesn't matter as long as it's consistent (like a simple patchwork). Do make sure you seam allowance is large enough that the fabric won't fray apart around it - never buy batting full price at Joanns, it goes on sale regularly or you can almost always get like a 40% off one full price item coupon when it's not on sale - when you are cutting fabric on a rotary mat, you can cut more than one layer of fabric at a time (might be obvious, but I did not know that at first lol) - shop around online for replacement rotary cutter blades, the prices vary wildly and seem to have no rhyme or reason, sometimes it's cheaper to get a two pack of blades than to buy just one? Most of all, make patterns that you want to make. Almost all the quilt patterns I make (except my improv scrap quilts) are really, really basic quilt patterns, because that's what I like making. I like keeping the pattern super simple and letting the fabric be the star, because my favorite part is arranging the fabrics like a puzzle. I have a quilt friend who makes really really intricate, beautiful paper pieced quilts I 100% do not have the patience for, but that's what she likes making and she's great at it. Enjoy what you're making and you'll find the parts of quilting you like best over time :)

#ask away!#hellomissmedia #quilting tips #I don't know like a *lot* of other quilters well enough to know how long quilts take them #but I do suspect I am an outlier time-wise?#but like. you know how sometimes your parents might have like a special interest or something they know a lot about #and you learn it as a kid without knowing it's perhaps a weird thing for a kid to know?#my mom's interests were (among other things) marketing and the optimization of systems #so like. I grew up habitually streamlining processes as like...just another step of doing anything?#which I only learned relatively recently is not a thing everyone does all the time #but yeah I suspect that affects how long it takes me to make a quilt lol

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littlebluentebook · 7 months

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Alastor x Sewing!Reader Pt.5

Chapter 6

"Alastor were you alright?" you asked The night was still awfully early compared to the last week you were there.

"I am alright darling, just feeling a little under the weather is all." Alastor was quick on his feet to come up with an excuse.

You were very shaken up after the dance and he wanted to get you away as soon as possible. In addition, many other men were looking a you.He felt protective of you in a way. Anyone who looked at you lustfully had a reserved daydream in Alastor's mind of being torn to shreds. Alastor wanted you to be all his. It was a silly thought and a foreign concept to him. He liked how kind you were and how you acted towards him.The pleasant conversations were an added bonus. He felt as though everything between you two was so natural and he could slightly let his guard down near you. Of course, he wouldn't utter a word about his jealousy being the reason the night ended short in case it upset you.

"oh goodness! When we get to my home I'll have to give you some medicine and tea!"

You were worried about your friend. What if he had gotten a cold from walking you home last week? The least you could do was ward it off a slight bit. Tonight you had learned your lesson and brought your own jacket so Alastor wouldn't freeze for you.

"Alastor, please come inside and join me for a cup of tea, at least enough to keep you warn on your walk home." You both were standing in the shops entrance. The truth was after your encounter you didn't want to be left alone.

"Hm, just one and I'll be on my way."

Inside the shop Alastor made a note of the flowers on your center table in the middle of the store. You made all the surrounding garments to match. Smiling at this he promised himself he wouldn't forget to give you new flowers at the beginning of the week.

You both walked further into the store to a door Alastor didn't notice before.

"Sorry if it's messy at all, I have had a very busy week and not much time to clean." You knew your home wasn't messy one bit but wanted to break the silence. There wasn't enough time spent there for it to be messy

"You are an awfully busy person Y/N, I think I can excuse it just this once."

You sat Alastor in your small living room, joining him after the kettle was on the stove.

He took notice of your home while you were away. It was neat in its own way. Your home definitely reflected that you were a busy person. Random sheets of numbers and sketches sat in a neat pile on the coffee table. There were books sorted by author and series but stacked haphazardly on a book shelf. The room had three windows with a nice view of the city below. He could even see the radio tower from one window.

"Do you have a tea preference?" you asked unsure.

"What do you have?" Alastor had certain tastes but wanted make sure he wasn't asking too much of you. He wanted to revel in your kindness, for it to be all his. Yet, he didn't want to take advantage of you. It was odd because typically he doesn't mind using others for his own gain.

"Green, chai, black, earl..." you rattled off.

"Chai sounds delightful"

"Perfect! Its my favorite."

It worked well for the evening to wind you both down.

"Y/N?" Alastor asked catching your attention, "how do you stay warm? You have no furnace."

"Oh!" the question caught you by surprise. Sometimes you forget that most homes have fireplaces. Your building wasn't originally meant to be a home and therefore didn't have one. "I have plenty of quilts that I stack. Plus, the oven typically warms this whole place up!"

The kettle went off and you got up to steep yours and Alastor's tea. On the way back you brought the tea, honey, sugar and two quilts. You assumed Alastor was cold and that was why he asked about a non existent furnace.

Alastor had asked the question so maybe you would think he was cold and sit close er to him. He absolutely enjoyed the feeling of you on his arm while walking.

You sat the tea, honey, and sugar on the coffee table then handed him one of the quilts you had made. It was a simple pastel blue with hints of floral fabric.

Instead if grabbing the quilt, Alastor reached underneath to grab your hand and gently led you to sit on the loveseat next to him. You both settled under your respective blankets. You reached for you tea, adding 2 cubes of sugar and a spoonful of honey. Alastor however reached for your stationary hand. He held it without a word, acknowledging nothing.

You didn't say anything either. He was such a gentleman to you! There was no point in ruining a friendship with nonsensical words.

Even after your tea was finished you and Alastor continued to talk about the world around you. He appreciated your ability to find beauty in the world and you appreciated how he could hold a meaningful intelligent conversation.

The entire time you both continued to hold hands. No words were mentioned but Alastor would casually make sure you wouldn't forget your hands were intertwined with his. He grabbed your second hand as soon has the tea was finished. He later then rubbed his thumb across your knuckles every once in a while while you were talking. Whenever you got passionate about a topic he would hold them both close together and bring them towards his lips for a light kiss.

By the time the two of you noticed the time, it was far too late for Alastor to walk home. You insisted he spend the night to which he reluctantly agreed. In all honesty he was excited to be spending all the time he could with you.

You ran down the stairs and into your spare room and grabbed a set of pajamas you hadn't sold for him to put on. They were dark red a fleece lined.

"These are the most comfortable clothes I have ever put on Y/N" he was astonished with the quality and comfort.

"Keep them darling!"

You and Alastor played the game of who would sleep where. He was willing to take your love seat but he was a guest, you wouldn't allow it. Additionally, neither of you fit on that seat comfortably.

#alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel #alastor

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thestudentfarmer · 4 months

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Anyone else enjoy thrifting and thrift shopping?

It's one of my favorite ways of keeping stuff out of the garbage heap.

And Sometimes you just need something. Sometimes, it might be cheap pants, shirts, "new" cookware or eating utensils, ridiculous decorative stuff. A ton can be found through thrifting and i don't necessarily have to feel guilty in buying some stuff I might not have gotten otherwise (or needed). Mostly because while it's already had 1 life, why not another while it's still functional and keep it out of the dump longer? 🌱💚 🌱 no need for new for everything if it's already made and here :)

I haven't been able to for a long time as I like to carpool or have donations to bring with, was able to recently go with some friends and wanted to share some of the neat buys I found.

I don't usually get lucky with pretty homemade quilts being available when thrifting, but I found this one and am pretty excited about it, (this was my top find this time)

To me, it looks hand stitched entirely, there's a few small tears that will need minimal repair and a few spots that will need some reinforcement as theres a bit of thinning. Otherwise it's quite beautiful and I know it must have taken the maker a bit of time to do. Also i must admit, im kind of inspired to get my hands back to quilting again soon from this beauty.

A sweet deal on this embroidery floss and tool(?)

To be quite honest I'm not really sure what the tool being pointed at is, if anyone knows please share your knowledge! I'll likely use the floss on some hat projects for gifts this year.

Also, I found a bag with all these bobbins and thread. I've been looking for more bobbin containers cause I like to have a full one for the common colors I use when I'm sewing. These colors I'll probably use for binding smaller quilts (dog, cat, baby, and lap quilt sized) or for attempts at making clothing if fabrics are similar colored.

I also found

A set of ceramic measuring cups with handles,

kitchen knife,

2 crocheted blankets, lap/single sized,

2 nice new picture frames (still wrapped),

A book (fun reading material),

And what I thought was a ceramic pancake 🥞 or tortilla holder/warmer for breakfast, but I think it is actually for something else? I'm using it to store fresh ginger tubers at the moment (later, mayby garlic bulbs)

I was hoping for some nice fabric to try my hands at skirt making and some interesting quilting fabric, but nothing in the selection really caught my eye this round. Lots of pretty kitchen ware and nicknacks, though. Unfortunately, there no time to even look at the clothes before we had to head off, no big loss though.

That's it for now,

🌱🌻Happy Homesteading and sustainability efforts!🌻🌱

5 16 24

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ccstiles · 4 months

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(moonrise au: whether things got spicy or not is up to you)

Seth wakes the morning after his first transformation. It takes a moment for him to register the fact he’s lying on his side and isn’t still chained up. There’s a quilt cover draped over him, mildly musty from sitting in Doll’s closet for who knows how long.

The events of the previous night come back. It’s kinda foggy, seeing as he wasn’t really all there, but he remembers some stuff. Like how Doll laid down a futon and a couple sleeping bags for him to sleep on so he wouldn’t wake up on the cold hard floor.

He sits up and realizes his clothes are torn up. Shit. Probably should have thought about that. Dammit, he really liked this jacket. At least his dog tags only came undone and didn’t completely break.

Seth looks to his left. Right, Doll insisted on staying down there with him. Good thing for that day bed. Looks like they’re out like a light. He can’t necessarily blame them, they were up for hours. They’re just lucky the shop was closed that day.

Omg, more sillies!

When Seth first woke up, he didn't know where he was for a moment. All of last night was a blur as his brain was still catching up to him. Looking down, he sees that underneath the old quilt that was covering him, his clothes were torn to shreds.

'oh great' he thought to himself, assessing the state of his clothes, and cringing as he realized the state his jacket was in. 'dammit, this was my favorite jacket'

When he tried to get up, though, his arm bumped into something solid. Turning to see what was laying next to him, he froze.

Peacefully sleeping right next to him, was Doll. And right as he realized that, was when the memories of the previous night came flooding in.

His face burst into color before he hid it behind his hands. He couldn't believe what had happened! He had been trying his hardest to stay away from them so that way he didn't accidentally hurt them, but it seems like luck wasn't on his side.

"stupid mutt" he sighed into his hands, cursing the werewolf that he could hear laughing at him in his head. He wanted to kill that stupid thing. Sadly though, he wouldn't get the chance.

Doll started to stir right next to him, yawning as they sat up. Looking up at Seth, they smiled.

"good morning! How did you sleep?" Doll smiled at him as they stretched out their arms.

Seth couldn't understand how they could act so normal after all... That! It was surprising to him that they weren't teasing him or asking any questions.

Before he could say anything, Doll had stood up from where they had been sleeping, turning to face Seth and noting the state of his clothes.

"I'll go grab you something to wear and then start on breakfast, ok?" Doll smiled at him before turning to leave the basement, leaving a very confused Seth behind.

"what just... Happened??" Seth asked out loud, before getting a not so unexpected answer.

"that, boy, is what happens when you actually let people in" Seth grumbled as his werewolf answered him.

"I wasn't talking to you!" Seth wished that werewolves were more like in the movies, so that he didn't have to deal with a super old, super annoying werewolf that always made comments to him.

"whatever. You know I did a big favor for you" the werewolf mused, "if I didn't, you would have never told them how you felt"

"yeah, I know," Seth sighed as he started to take off his jacket and peel the remnants of his shirt off of him, "and I wanted it to stay that way."

"you know, we aren't as dangerous as you think. And they're not as fragile as you think either" his werewolf continued to reason with him.

"you don't know that," Seth snapped, "I don't trust you. Sure, you were nice to them last night, but don't think I fully believe you."

"Seth?" A voice came from the stairs. Looking up, he could see Doll had returned with a change of clothes.

"I tried my best, but they might be a bit tight on you" Doll said as they handed the clothes off to Seth.

"oh uh, thanks sugar" Seth thanked them as he began to put the shirt and sweatpants on.

"I'll start on breakfast now, how do you like your eggs?" Doll smiled at him as he finished getting dressed.

"oh, you don't have to do that-" Seth tried to stop them, but his stomach interrupted him with a loud growl. "... scrambled is fine."

Doll only giggled as they led him back up into their house and sat him down at the kitchen counter while they started on breakfast.

"see? They're perfectly fine, there's nothing to worry about" never the type to let go, Seth's werewolf continued to pester him.

"will you shut up?" Seth whispered, trying to keep Doll from hearing, but they heard it anyways.

"is something wrong Seth?" Doll asked him as they started on the sausages.

"oh, nothin. Just that stupid flea bag" he huffed.

"oh is the werewolf being mean?" Doll giggled, "tell him I said to stop it, maybe that'll help"

"thanks sugar, but nothing shuts it up" Seth sighed, putting his head in his palm, "trust me, I've tried"

"well," Doll said as they placed the plate in front of Seth, "have you tried working with your werewolf instead of against it?"

"huh?" Seth asked, "why would that make any difference?"

"Because, from my understanding, the werewolf is supposed to be a part of you," Doll spoke as they ate their breakfast, "if you fight against it, you're only fighting against yourself. So it's only going to be a losing battle"

Seth thought about what they were saying before they went on again.

"if you accept the werewolf, and let it in, you won't have as many problems with it," Doll smiled, "or at least, that's my theory"

"hmmm," Seth hummed as he finished his food, "I guess I never thought of it that way."

Now that he was actually thinking about it, Doll was right. Even though it felt like they were two different beings sharing a body, it was really only Seth, just two versions of him. The more he fought against it, against himself, the harder it was to control.

"thank you sugar, you might actually have a point" Seth looked at them and smiled.

"thanks! I don't get paid to just sit at the desk and look pretty, I do have some smarts" Doll giggled as they too finished their food.

Seth just smiled at them as they took both of the plates to the sink to wash them. As he watched them, though, something else started to bug him.

"hey, uh, sugar?" Doll looked up at him as he started to talk. "About last night. I... Uh"

"we don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to" Doll gave him a soft smile as they spoke, "I can tell it's hard for you, so we can wait till you're ready to talk about it."

Seth didn't know what to say before he just smiled at them. "Thanks sugar. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Doll just smiled back before they both went back to sitting in a comfortable silence, basking in each other's presence.

(dang that was way longer than I thought it would be-)

#cc yapping #yuurivoice #yuurivoice seth #yuurivoice doll #moonrise/werewolf AU #i didn't think it would get that long oh my god 😭

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wondersxwomen · 9 months

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We've partnered with My Favorite Quilt Shop to bring you Quilter and Seamstress Merch! We have cups. tumblers, coats, jackets, totes, and many Many other items, all Sewing related. Support two local businesses by purchasing these items today! https://www.wondersbywomen.com/shop/partner-merch/my-favorite-quilt-shop-merch

#wonders by women #sewing #female artists #green bay #female boss #quilting #My Favorite Quilt Shop

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creations-by-chaosfay · 25 days

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Commission Menu!

I've removed the "Pay What You Want" commission option, though you can pay more than my asking price on any of the commissions. The commission menu itself has been increased though! I had originally intended to open commissions in September, but emergencies happened, forcing me to open them early.

On the menu are:

A set of four quilted magnets or decorative pins.

A set of four coasters, with several options for more coasters as well as insulated batting to make them into hot pads/pot holders.

A single mug rug, with insulated batting as an option. For my shop, I use insulated batting for the mug rugs. For commissioned pieces, it's two layers of cotton batting or an extra $5 for insulated batting.

Due to popular demand, a single serving dining set. This is for a single placemat and matching coaster.

A four piece placemat set. If you would like me to make more placemats for a set, please contact me about this.

A single mini quilt. These range from 18x18 inches to 25x25 inches. They're excellent wall and table decorations!

A single table runner. I'm rather fond of these because of how flexible they are with regards to use. How so? Hang them on a wall, drape over the back of a couch, lay across a car seat, use it on an altar or shrine, etc.

A pine tree wallhanging. These are an excellent alternative to a Yuletide tree. They're hung on a wall and you can decorate it with your favorite pins or buttons. If you would like some decorative pins, I can make those (see the first item on this list). No trees will be cut down, cats won't be climbing up it nor break ornaments, it takes just a couple minutes to set up or take down. Storage is also very easy! Oh, and it can be made with a wide range of colors.

A rag quilt. I have different size options available! These are made using a quilt-as-you-go technique and are very quickly made. Oh, and they're EXTREMELY warm! My house gets very chilly in winter, and the rag quilt I've made for myself works like magic.

Just the quilt top. This is available in several sizes, the largest being twin. This is for just the quilt top. You will need to purchase backing, batting, and either do the quilting yourself or hire someone else. You will also receive all fabric scraps left after the sewing is done.

Please read over the details and don't be afraid to ask questions. If you're a monthly supporter, you will automatically receive a 15% discount, but you have the option to pay more than my asking price should you decide you don't want to use the discount.

Please reblog! It's the only way other people will see this post. Liking this is only a bookmark for you. Remember, Tumblr is a blogging site with social features; it's not a social media site. You are, however, welcome to share this post on any social media site you use.

Remember: commissioning me, purchasing anything from my shop, or donating to my goal will earn you an entry into winning a free quilt when said goal is reached.

Commissions close November 1st.

After November 1st, I'll be focusing on making a stack of quick and easy quilt tops to practice free motion quilting. Those quilts will be sold at a steep discount. Once I'm comfortable with FMQ, I'll be making larger quilts again, and these will be listed in the shop.

At some point, I'll take a break. Financially speaking, that's not really an option unless we pay off the last vet bill and the water heater installation. If those goals are met, then yes, I'll take a long overdue and well-earned break.

If you're willing to give me full artistic license and the only input you give is choosing the size range from the commission menu, use GOHOGWILD for a 15% discount. Please know there's a 90% chance it will be a Halloween quilt. Halloween is my favorite month, and celebrating it with quilts is always a pleasure. You are not required to use the coupon code, and there's the option to pay more than my asking price. I just really want to make some Halloween quilts.

Here are samples of my work, some of which you can purchase from my shop here.

#artists on tumblr #handmade #handcrafted #home decor #textile art #PLEASE REBLOG

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levans44 · 1 year

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soft spooky headcanons—chris evans characters

soft spooky headcanons (inspired by prompts by @novelbear) in honor of october, for some of my fav ce characters! @brandycranby this is all you babe :)))

steve: steve takes you on a classic amusement park date to coney island. it's the annual halloween harvest and the whole pier is fully decked out with spooky jack-o-lanterns and skeleton cutouts. you even spot a couple kiddos dressed as captain america in the costume parade ('oh look, you should've worn your suit, babe!'). steve somehow manages to convince you to try out the haunted house, and you venture inside, apprehensive. by the end of the ride, you're clutching onto steve's arm for dear life as he shields you (get it?) from all the cackling clowns and chainsaw murderers chasing you down. 'they're just actors, hon!' he tries not to smile as you glare up at him at the exit, still refusing to let go of his arm. it's okay though—he makes it up to you by winning you a teddy bear with a perfect score at the balloon dart. 'show-off' you grumble, burying your face in the soft plushy as he pulls you into his side, kissing you on the top of your head 🧸💕

andy: he's been stressed lately, working overtime at the office nearly every day of the week. you surprise him one night with a pumpkin carving date, which ends up stressing him out even more b/c of the way you're holding your knife like that and '—oh, jesus, honey please watch your thumb.' he'd eventually have to abandon his own and come over to help you, his hand on top of yours as he guides you. you both eventually give up on the carving and settle with some take-out from your favorite place, promising to go and shop for some halloween decor first thing tomorrow.

frank: with mary out trick or treating w/ roberta, you and frank were planning a chill night at home handing out candy to trick or treaters. he didn't have a costume in mind but you'd convinced him to put on a batman mask so you could have matching outfits... he'd be looking in the mirror, complaining about how ridiculous the mask looks when you you'd show up from the other room dressed in a sexy little cat woman get up and, well... he's too busy getting you out of that leather skirt you end up missing most of the trick or treaters at your door 🤦‍♀️ 🤦‍♀️

ransom: it's date night at his place, and your turn to pick the movie. you settle on your favorite horror movie and get all excited, switching all the lights off in his living room and bringing out some cozy candles, plopping down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and his quilted blankie🥰 he grumbles that horror movies are dumb, but he'd never admit out loud that he secretly hates the jump scares... he'd be cursing a lot at first to act like mr tough man around you😤😤 but by the end he'd pull you onto his lap, squeezing you tight and refusing to let go. you'd pretend not to notice the little high-pitch yelp he lets out at a particularly loud jump scare... you'll just have to save it and tease him about it later 😏

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gardening-guy · 16 days

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i desperately want homemade quilts and soft new sheets that were lovingly made by someone but noooooo the only things i can afford are the unbelievably shitty store-bought bullshit that were made in sweat shops by poor exploited workers that'll break within a month (i would go thrifting but my favorite shops don't have any fabrics rn and haven't for a while)

STILL i shall persevere and WAIT (not very) patiently 💪

#i want to decorate for the fall with cute homemade stuff #oli goes thrifting #thrifting #quilts #quilting #cottagecore

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pedges-world · 1 month

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Moody Joel:

A huge thank you to @yopossum and congrats on the 100+ followers! It was so fun to put your mood board at the epicenter of mine. It not only inspired my first mood-lit, the cherry has been popped with my first fic for Joel! As always, Pedge is a self-made man (if you count Bitmoji...)

Triggers: descriptors are mostly emotional, lots of heroine self-confusion, Jackson-era, raised voices, lite smut, pretty easy stuff, a little profanity. Of course, with Joel it's everything he DOESN'T say...

You sat, curled up on the couch, book in hand, your favorite mug of tea steaming on the nearby side table. The season had started to shift and a blustery wind was drifting through Jackson, not entirely devoid of warning, but still laced with the enigmatic mysteries of autumn. A rare opportunity to enjoy a day without patrols, harvesting or other communal activities, you had busied yourself in the garden, small living room library and the kitchen, waiting for Joel to come home. A quick intake of air as you reminded yourself that this was HIS home, not yours. Pausing in your reading you took a quick glance around the room, finding a few conspicuous items that were starting to dot HIS landscape.

YOUR favorite mug, the one book you owned, a too small quilt that had taken all year to scrap together. You rubbed your feet together with discomfort, wondering if your presence was starting to become oppressive. Looking over you saw the mismatched boots, messily piled next to each other, seemingly disparate in this moment. Were the seasons changing in more ways than one? Were you starting to get a little TOO comfortable in a world that constantly threatened to unravel itself?

Like a bull in a china shop, you heard Joel crashing through the kitchen assembling the dinner you had prepared. You smiled, wondering if he seemed as noisy to himself, resonating in only one ear. Saying so little, but meaning so much, with a presence that seemed to dominate every space he was in. Maybe there wasn’t room for somebody as small as you.

Joel tiredly lumbered into the living room across creaking floorboards and plopped down on the couch beside you, dinner plated. You cast a sideways glance, unsurprised at his immediate delight, as he shoveled the green beans, chicken and mashed potatoes unceremoniously into his mustached mouth. Salivating slightly at his enjoyment you took a rare moment to gaze at his countenance, watching the muscles in his jaw tick, eyes closed, swallowing steadily and licking his lips. He leaned back, sighing heavily, trying to release the tension of the day.

“Long day?” you ventured, closing your book and nudging your feet under his jean clad thigh.

Joel set the plate down in his lap for a moment, tilting his head back on the couch with exhaustion. It’s possible he hadn’t even heard you as you barely caught his grunt of acknowledgement. So much of life was centered around survival, any luxury seemed nearly ridiculous in comparison. There was nothing about your arrangement that felt manipulative, but maybe it was one sided. Maybe just another utilitarian coping mechanism to survive the next atrocity.

You pulled your feet back under you, surprised at the cascading emotions and thoughts brought on by the autumnal brooding. You looked at the crackling fire, listening for the whistling wind outdoors. Your small house was just across the way, lonely, silent and cold and you wondered if things were starting to become a bit too entwined. Closing your book, you reached over tenderly to swipe a dot of gravy from the corner of his mouth, curious if he had somehow fallen asleep mid-bite. But hearing him hum in appreciation as your fingers drifted up to massage the back of his neck and scratch over his scalp. His chest rumbled with recognition, but you felt a slight pang of regret, curious if you amounted to a hired hand. Somehow a day of comparative solitude had threaded itself through your insecurities and you were suddenly vulnerable to its attack. Your face crumpled in defeat, unable to process so many feelings at once, unwilling to invite Joel into this swirling confusion.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, teetering precariously as you stood up. “I think I’ll take off, you good for the night?”. The clunky words fell out of your mouth, laced with subtitles you couldn’t interpret, as Joel’s eyes shot open confusedly.

“S’wrong?” he grumbled, perhaps more pointedly than intended.

“Nothing’s wrong” you lied, gripping the quilt protectively in front of your body and swaying slightly. “I’m just…tired, I guess…” the fib began to wrap its tendrils around your waist, cutting off the breath at the source.

“Well that’s no reason to leave, I’m just sittin’ down” he complained, furrowing his brow in confusion and wincing slightly as he sat further forward to discern your meaning.

“I know, I just…don’t want to bother you.”

Joel sat unmoving, metaphorical steam starting to emanate off his body in waves. Words didn’t come easily to him, but his survival acumen was unmatched. Something was up.

“Dinner’s real good” he stated, matter-a-factly, as though that communicated intricacies beyond your understanding. Unfortunately, it only solidified your hesitancy, as you were starting to feel like a glorified short order cook. Feeling emotionally naked you gripped the quilt desperately, inching backwards and forgetting the new side table Joel had crafted for your mugs of tea. You were just about to sputter some excuse about the seasons shifting when your heel caught on the table leg, propelling you backwards. Joel’s hand snapped out, grabbing you and the quilt you were holding and knocking his dinner to the ground with a crash.

“Goddamit, will you be more careful?!” he exclaimed, gripping you around the waist and pulling your body between his knees abruptly.

Something about the sudden adrenaline and self-indecision, disoriented your emotions even more than your body and you felt yourself well up with tears, lip wobbling in confusion.

Joel’s expression softened, as did his iron grip, as his fingers moved down your waist and lightly gripped your backside. “What’s gotten into you?’ he questioned, looking around the room as though trying to identify the shift in tonality.

“Don’t know” you lied again, unable to disentangle yourself from the growing self-loathing.

“You wanna leave?” he raised his voice, trying desperately to grasp at the threads of understanding.

“No” you pouted, finally assured of one truth. You didn’t want to leave. You just wanted to stay forever.

He huffed an exasperated puff of air into your face, squinting skeptically into your guilty expression. “Door’s right there, honey…just…” he shot back defensively, noticing the pools of emotion swimming in your eyes…”…just…”. He swallowed hard, as time started to drip more slowly, blurring his perception. He looped a finger through one of your belt buckles, tugging your hips jerkily.

“Just…is cold out, s’all” he managed to mutter, looking down at your lips disappointedly. “Gotta be careful” he grumbled, drawing his thumb across the small snippet of skin peeking from underneath your threadbare sweater. You melted a little bit at his touch, drawing yourself down onto his lap tentatively. You placed your hands on his chest, breathing together in sync, trying to take in the moment. “Gotta stick together” he rationalized, feeling a small pulse of emotion in his chest threaten to crest. The wind howled louder still, almost in agreement.“ You should stay” he suggested, placing his hands on your thighs and moving his thumb in small circles. “Dinner was REAL good” he repeated “until you made me drop it” he smirked, lightening the mood.

You felt your chest expand in a contented breath, settling down further onto his lap and relaxing slightly. “There’s more where that came from” you sulked, a little unsure of yourself.

Joel waited patiently as you sat atop him, moving his hands to your back and watching you intently.

“It IS starting to get colder” you reasoned, feeling some of your insecurity melting away with the day’s troubles.

Joel nodded his head gruffly in agreement, latching a finger at the collar of your sweater and slowly pulling you towards him. “Gotta stick together” he repeated, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, when you kissed him with newfound abandon.

@realjensenackles1 @groovy-hippie-chick @maddiemadden @kadifromtheblock @moniek @vickie5446 @befrobeefcal @aotfantasmagorias @inept-the-magnificent @djarins-cyare @lemonwizard @timelordfreya @schnarfer @devineconjuring @quicax3 @joelalorian @bitchwitch1981 @wordywarriorwrites @hearaball @janaispunk @pedroswife69 @katiexpunk @i-own-loki @vaininsane @morallyinept @yorksgirl @spookyxsam @sawmredfox @mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @strang3love3 @susanpaul111 @tanyaharvey4147 @littlemisspascal @zaniasky @shaunasflannel @anelva @shinyanchorobject @latenightwithmiller

#pedro #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fan fiction #joel miller #the last of us

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rosewaterandivy · 10 months

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iv. hunger hurts, but starving works

summary: it’s all fun and games until the fall festival.

pairing: s.h. x witch!reader

w.c.: 4.7k

warnings: my blog is 18+ MDNI; vague allusions to magic and the like (tarot specifically), serial kisser steve, we get by with a little no help from our friends

a/n: sorry for the ouchies last week, hopefully, some meddling from everyone's favorite metalhead and space cadet will help.

series m.list | playlist | currently spinning:

The weeks pass all too slowly. Leaves turning fiery shades of orange, amber, red, and gold before falling gallantly to the ground; littering the streets and sidewalks only to be soaked with rain and snow. Tracy manned the shop, convincing you to take some time off and promising to oversee the rescheduled H & M appointment. But sulking around the aunt’s house did little to alleviate the hollow feeling in your chest.

Women, like clockwork, still came down the bluestone path at twilight seeking absolution and eternal devotion from their paramours through the aunt’s skill. They paid in cash and hardly ever heard a word of advice: “He’s no good for you, honey,” said to a woman sporting a bracelet of bruises around her wrists, “Darling, there are more people involved than you realize,” whispered to another who insisted on bagging the married principal of the high school, his expecting wife be damned.

“I don’t care, I have to have him,” was the perfunctory response.

Kelly’s eyes easily found yours, cutting through the dark staircase where you sat huddled under a worn quilt. You don’t need to see this, her soothing alto sounds out in your mind. She jerks her head toward the door, Take a walk, we’ll call you for dinner.

It was no use arguing with her. With a heavy sigh, you stood from the stair and slunk off to change. There was a secluded stretch of beach just off the backyard of the property, one you were familiar with frequenting when things all became a bit too much. But, as of late, you’d preferred the quiet comfort of your bed.

In fact, you couldn’t recall the last time you’d even left the house. Content to laze away your days in languid drips, sleeping through the waking hours only to haunt the witching ones. The family grimoire remained tightly shoved in your bookshelf, slowly worming its way out from between biographies and murder mystery paperbacks. You’d given it a good push back into the shelf a few days ago, but here it was, halfway from tumbling out again.

Throwing on an old college sweatshirt and fleece-lined leggings, you lace up your boots, and toss on a beanie and your father’s old work jacket. The scent has long since faded from it, but if you close your eyes and wish hard enough, the warm, pleasant scent of pipe tobacco and the spice from his cologne comes through. Taking a deep breath in, you revel in the closest thing you have to a hug from your dearly departed father.

Swiftly, you take the stairs two at a time and round the bannister just as Moira pricks the woman’s finger in the kitchen. Your aunt gives you a short smile as you close the backdoor with a soft click.

It would be one thing, if this time away from the shop was doing you any good. As it stands, you’re barely able to get any peace waking or dreaming because every thing hurtles you headlong back to him. And it hurts— alcohol is only capable of so much, after all, and you’re having more difficulty making yourself go cold than you’d anticipated.

As if you’re injured just by knowing him— his touch, his taste, the sounds he makes, how he looks sleep rumpled and barely awake. Numbing yourself with drink doesn’t chase away the dreams, it only makes them worse; though you’ve only kissed the carpenter, you could swear you’d been waking with lovebites on your neck and a soreness between your thighs.

It was infuriating and driving you batshit crazy.

Only in the sense that it made the waking all the more difficult. If you were a weaker woman, you wouldn’t be hitting snooze so much that your alarm clock had eventually given up the ghost and turned itself off. If you were a weaker woman, you would luxuriate in your dreams where his touch was warm and welcome. If you were a weaker woman, you wouldn’t be the walking wounded with a gaping cavern cleaving your heart in two.

But you weren’t that kind of woman; instead, you were stubborn as a mule, as everyone in your life liked to frequently remind you. Things would be better off this way; sure, people were hurt but at least they were alive; the Callahan curse stopped with you.

It had to.

The beach was deserted, as to be expected. The waves ebbing in and out, their white frothy peaks illuminated in the fading twilight. A chilly wind blew through as it pleased, making you wish for a scarf to bundle up with. Burrowing further into the collar of the coat, you shoved your hands into the large pockets to stave off the nip in the air.

Leaning on a nearby boulder, you let out a deep breath. The sea air tickled at your nostrils, briny and damp, as a light mist began to fall. It was coming on dusk now, the scant autumn light dipping below the horizon. Losing yourself to melancholy, you don’t even notice the jingling of a collar as a dog bounded toward you.

Thinking its found a new playmate, the dog breaks into a run, a streak of black in the coming night. Eyes adjusting to the scene, you quickly scramble up the boulder pressed against your back. The dog, undeterred, places its big paws on either side of your frame thinking you’re playing hard to get.

Hands braced at your side against the boulder, you dig a heel into the sand beneath your feet and attempt to get some distance between the dog and yourself. In an unfortunate display of an utter lack of coordination, you end up cutting your hand on a particularly jagged section of rock just as the dog lands a long lick to the side of your face.

“Woah there!” You call out, bewildered.

The dog continues, unabated, as you fall with a plop to the cold sand, head knocking against the boulder in the comedown. Delighted that its new playmate is at a more accessible level, the dog yips and barks, jumping a bit here and there in its excitement.

“Lucy?” Another voice shouts out into the night, a masculine baritone. A figure comes into view not long after, bundled up much like yourself, with leash in hand. “Luce!” The dog, Lucy, turns quickly to regard her owner, ears at attention and head cocked. He whistles sharply followed by a snap of this fingers, and she trots away, but not before a final lick to your face.

Making to stand on your own two feet, you momentarily forget the cut on your palm, letting out a low hiss of pain as the sand makes contact with your skin. You wince at your own stupidity, it’s going to be even more of a bitch to clean now. Shifting your weight to the opposite side, you brace yourself against the rock to stand.

But before you can fully rise, the sweet scent of freshly chopped wood and spice invades your senses. A warm puff of air, “Shit, I’m so sorry— she’s normally fine off-leash and I didn’t see you through the mist—”

“It’s fine,” You grouse, hating the skittering of heat beneath your skin at the sound of his voice.

Steve steps back, eyes concerned. “You’re hurt.”

You want to laugh, cackle, at the absurdity that is your life; a regular comedy of errors. Instead, a bark of laughter slips from your throat as your eyes flutter shut. It would be very helpful if the ground could stop moving now. His hands come out to steady you as your vision tunnels and you sway to one side.

“I’m fine,” You insist, though it is obvious you are anything but.

And he’s warm, as always; you idly wonder what it’s like to be a living furnace, to have that much heat running through your veins. Must get annoying in the summer, that’s for sure. Like magma just surging over and over, cooking you from the inside out.

“Uh, it’s not that bad, actually.” Steve chuckles, trying to steady you on your feet.

Oh.

Had you been babbling this entire time? How embarrassing.

“No!” He’s quick to respond, “Not at all. You’re just uh—” Steve wraps his wrist with the slack from the leash with one hand, the other coming to wrap around your hip. “Did you hit your head, or something?”

You give him a slow blink in response.

“Right. Okay,” He sighs shortly and glances back up the hill at the aunt’s house. “Let’s get you back home and cleaned up, hmm?”

The last thing you recall before succumbing to the beckoning darkness behind your eyes lids is the brush of his cheek, rough and dusted a smattering of stubble, against your temple and the whistled tune of your favorite song.

The muted buzz of a conversation rouses you from slumber. Fuzzy at first, like static between stations on the radio, becoming clearer and clearer until—

“Are you sure she’s alright?”

One of the aunts tuts in reply, “Positive.” Ah, must be Kelly then, her low voice ebbs and flows throughout the room, “The cut looks worse than it is and she’s always been a quick healer.”

“We’re lucky you were there though!” Moira from farther off, the pantry maybe. “God knows how long she’d have been down there on her own.”

“I don’t know about that,” the man hedges uncomfortably. “It’s my fault that it happened. If Lucy hadn’t—“

��Now, now,” Kelly sounds closer now, “Don’t go blaming yourself for what amounted to a happy accident.”

Happy? You passed out from a knock to the head and sliced your hand on a rock, but no harm no foul— this was a lucky turn of events, apparently.

“Ugh.” Your tongue feels sluggish in your mouth, slow to maneuver at your whims. “What the—“

Your hand, the one not wrapped in gauze and medical tape, flops against the wood grain of the kitchen table. Fingers scoring along years of wear, knives thrown carelessly against its surface.

Blinking is a struggle too, your lashes feel positively glued together. “Why am I on the table?”

“Better the table than the cold sandy beach.” Moira says with a wink to Steve. “Our neighbor was kind enough to escort you home.”

Kelly snorts, “Escort is a generous term.”

Sitting up on your elbows, your head looks to the right, only to find Kelly nursing a margarita.

“Poor thing had to haul you up the hill and wrangle Lucy at the same time.”

“It’s not a big deal,” He demures, sounding far too close for comfort. “You kinda passed out and I just sorta—“ His cheeks are tinging pink under your slow owlish blinks. He brings his hands up in a mimicry or carrying something and icy realization washes over you.

“You had to carry me?!”

Kelly laughs from her perch against the hutch, “It’s not the end of the word peach.”

Moira picks up her cue with a wink, “Oh, woe is me! A big strong man had to carry me like a damsel and return me to my maiden aunts.”

Pushing yourself up fully, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, keeping your eyes straight ahead. Your feet find the ground easily enough and before a word can be spoken, you’ve left the kitchen to bound upstairs and shut yourself away.

In your absence, a hush falls in the kitchen, all save for Lucy snoring by the fire in the living room. Steve taps his fingers against the wooden table, walnut if he had to guess. The warm amber tone of the lumber popping against the darker grain— a beautiful and well-loved piece. He lets a nail trace a divot or two as the aunts prattle around the kitchen preparing dinner.

A hand grasps his shoulder, “Steve,” Kelly stands behind him, her empty margarita glass discarded on the countertop. “Would you like to stay for dinner? It’s the least we can do considering…” She nods her head, eyes looking upwards to where he can only assume your bedroom is.

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” He awkwardly fumbles for an excuse, something believable enough but not the outright truth of ‘I made out with and rescued your niece who wants nothing to do with me. Oh, and I’m also, maybe, in love with her.’

Moira closes the oven, having just checked on the roast. “Nonsense, we insist.”

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “I should really get going—”

“Now, I know you’re not going to spur two old biddies who have invited you to dinner.” Kelly’s voice is warning enough, her eyes light with mischief. An unspoken, you’ll stay if you know what’s good for you.

“So, what can I get you to drink?” Moria asks from across the kitchen.

“I’ll take a beer, if you have it.” Steve says from his spot leaning against the counter, his eyes glance up at the sound of footfalls upstairs. Your socked feet treading this way and that above him.

“Well, aren’t you in luck!” She crows, tugging the fridge open, “I just bought some today. Hope it’s to your liking,” She tosses him a can, that he catches with ease.

Eyeing the label, he gives her a small smile in thanks. “It’s my favorite, actually.”

“How do you like that?” Moira chimes in, setting the table for dinner. “Steve, would you be a dear and grab the pot behind you to place on the table?”

And Steve, for all his good intentions and attempts at a polite exit, finds himself settling own for dinner with your aunts. You stay upstairs throughout dinner and dessert, with only the occasional tread on the wood floor to signal your presence. And each time a creak or groan sounds from the floorboards, his eyes cast upwards wondering what you could possibly be doing up there, and how much you must hate him.

Lucy, however, has the time of her life at the Callahan house that evening. In lieu of her usual kibble, she is treated to a panoply of treats, hand served pot roast from the table, and luxuriating in affection from the aunts. Steve keeps an eye on her, and tries to prevent the aunts and their spoiling of her— “She’s a good girl, she deserves it,” “It’s just a treat Steven, no need to coddle.”

And if she’s aware of her role in the events that transpired this evening, she doesn’t show it. In her hard-won experience, sometimes people just needed a little push. And if that push came from her or through other means, well then, so be it.

Opting to skip out on dinner, you retreated to your bedroom and changed into some comfier clothes— a well-loved sweater and flannel pajama pants, a pair of cashmere socks from Moira several Christmases ago— and snuggled down in bed.

What a no good, very bad day you’d had.

Trying to avoid the very man who haunted your thoughts, only to get a rather enthusiastic greeting from his dog and injure yourself in the process. Just fucking great.

A soft knock sounds from your bedroom door, jarring you away from your thoughts. With a grumble that you were on your way, you reluctantly leave the warm cocoon of the bed and shuffle toward the door.

Turning the knob in your hand, you open the door only to come mouth to mouth with none other than Steve Harrington. It’s an unfortunate turn of events, he’d leaned forward to knock again and collided with you while trying to balance a plate from dinner.

It’s brief, but no less enticing than the kiss at the shop. It’s messy, teeth clacking awkwardly together, lips mismatched, mouths open to sprout apologies. It hurts like a kindness— he’s so warm and inviting, it would be easy to get lost in someone like Steve.

A breath of your name as he pulls away, flushed in embarrassment. “Fuck, I didn’t mean—”

And it’s like he broke you with gentle hands, without even trying. You can feel your heart plummet to your stomach, quickly replaced by a roar of fury. How dare he? First the shop, and now this?

“You can’t just go around kissing people Harrington!” You hiss, taking the plate from his grasp. “What is wrong with you?! Did you just get out of prison or something?”

He rocks back on his feet, fiddling with his glasses for lack of something better to do. “I know, I know,” His voice is a low murmur, “And I didn’t mean to, I swear to god, your aunts just asked me to bring up a plate for you.”

The longer you look at him, the worse it gets; all bashful and pink in the cheeks, wire frames bringing the green of his hazel eyes into sharp relief. All compounded by the humiliating fact that you would kiss him again in a heartbeat.

At the mention of your aunts, you cast your gaze down to the base of the stairs, catching Kelly’s eye. Her smile immediately raises your suspicions, the last time you saw that smile, Moira won the election to become president of the PTA by unanimous vote. She gives you a languid wave and wink before turning away and into the parlor.

“I, uh, I should go.” Steve says backing toward the stairs, “I am really sorry about that, it won’t happen again.”

A roll of your eyes, “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it Romeo.”

Steve quickly thanks your aunts for their hospitality and readies Lucy for the walk home, you can hear his voice as it trails up from the parlor, pitched higher and softer for the snoozing pup downstairs. A smile lights on your face despite your best intentions. Setting the plate on your desk, you step toward the windows overlooking Willow Street.

Porch lights illuminate the sidewalk and front garden of the house, and soon enough, a man and his dog appear too. Something being said about repairing the garden gates and a friendly wave to your aunts. He glances up to find your silhouette in the second storey windows, arms crossed and guarded. Steve ducks his head and turns toward home before he loses himself again; a full moon lighting his way back home.

You’d returned to the shop not long after, just long enough to let your hand heal up and recover your pride. Tracy was her usual self, for which you were grateful— she’d checked up on you a few times since the storm, not wanting to smother you.

As a result of her running the business solo, you found yourself manning a booth at the fall festival. It was a town tradition and one you had managed to studiously avoid in your years of being a local business owner. Unfortunately, it was time to pay the piper.

And, as luck (or lack thereof) would have it, your booth just so happened to be right next to the H & M Construciton one. You hadn’t seen any sight of Harrington yet, but it was only a matter of time, you were sure of it. Tracy had signed the pair of you up offering tarot readings, nothing fancy, just a three card spread.

“I can’t believe you,” You’d huffed when she shared the news, “You know I don’t like offering readings.”

“Well geez princess,” She said with a smirk, “If you’re gonna get your panties in a twist, I’ll do the readings.”

As it was, the booth was pulling in a fair amount of business already. Shop regulars stopping by to say hi and sign up for a reading, Tracy shuffling her worn tarot deck and dealing like she was at a blackjack table.

Of course, once receiving their readings (scarily accurate), they were immediately besotted by the fortune-telling dog next door. To be fair, she was pretty damn cute in her little turban and lolling pink tongue.

A cheery woman was seated alongside Lucy, bright blue eyes and blonde hair, while a dark and lanky man stood toward the back of the booth. Steve was nowhere to be found.

“You should go an introduce yourself,” Tracy suggested as a teenage girl left the booth, a spring in her step from what the cards foretold. “They’re your neighbors after all.”

Considering you’d kissed their roommate twice now, you figured it would be impolite to dodge a formal introduction. Shoving your hands into your coat pockets, you ambled over to their booth, Lucy announcing your arrival with a soft woof and wagging tail.

“Hey Lucy,” You greeted with a pat to her head, and she nuzzled her head into the palm of your hand. A laugh slips up your throat at her antics, but she’s far too precious to be refused.

Two pairs of eyes are on you and you can feel their stares. “Hi,” You offer with a weak wave, “We’re neighbors, the uh, Callahan house down the street?”

The blonde’s mouth falls into an ‘o’ while the man behind her reveals a wicked grin. They look at each other for a split second, some shorthand ESP you can’t translate, before turning back to you.

“I’m Robin,” Says the blonde offering her hand, she jerks the other behind her to point at the man. “And that’s Eddie.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Her hand is warm against yours, comforting. “We’re Steve’s roomates.”

“Right, of course.” You wave at Eddie and shove your hand back into your pocket. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” You rock back on your heels, “And, uh, thanks for the work on the built-ins, they look great.”

He steps forward wearing that same grin, “Not at all, happy to do it.” Eddie crosses his arms, ringed fingers grasping at his elbows. He inclines his head toward you, brows raised like he knows something you don’t. “Harrington was mum about why he couldn’t finish the job,” He says casually, “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, now would you?”

You attempt to school your features into a semblance of calm detachment. “Nope, no clue.” You give Lucy one last scratch behind the ears, “Anyway, thanks for taking care of it and I’ll see you around.”

“Sure, sure,” Eddie nods, “See you real soon.”

Turning back toward your booth, you’re startled to find Tracy shuffling the cards for none other than Steve Harrington himself.

For as long as he can remember, Steve has had this recurring dream; not a nightly occurrence by any means, but it would crop up at least a couple of times a year. A seaside town, the turning of the season, the sound of trailing laughter and creaky floorboards in an old Victorian house.

Hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of it for years. That was, until he moved to a particular small town; yours, as it so happened.

And now his nightmares are replaced with dreams and visions of you— dancing with your aunts through the kitchen, a margarita glass in hand, sleep-rumpled and bed-headed blinking owlishly from your bed, running along the sandy coastline Lucy hot on your tail, and, blessedly, the furrow of your sweat drenched brow, mouth falling open in a breathy pant while you tremble and shake above him.

Hadn’t been able to crack it until he stumbled into your shop that day. All it took was the sound of your voice and one look at you for Steve to know, deep in his bones, that he’d found the home he never quite had.

The love he felt for you coursing through him like a drug, was all-consuming. You called his name, and it whispered and roared like an orchestra. And all he can think is how you’d been wasted in the arms of everyone before him; and likewise, how he’d only been wasting time with every other girl back in Hawkins.

But life, like love, is rarely ever fair.

So your rejection, though not wholly expected, had been heard loud and clear. So much so that Steve’s not expecting you to give him a short smile and wave from where you stand at the cider stand. But it’s clear by your body language that you won’t return to the booth until he’s cleared off.

He shyly waves back.

“... this can’t be right.” With one hand Tracy scoops the cards up and shuffles them back into the deck. “We’ll just try again.” She says to Steve before calling out toward you, “Hey, babe?”

Three cups of cider in hand, you poke your head into the booth reluctantly, “Need somethin’?” Setting two cups on the table, you nudge one toward Steve, listening as Tracy mumbles something about making heads or tails of the three card spread.

She smiles, a small pull of her lips as you walk closer, ducking your head to hear her whispering. Tracy clears her throat and says, louder for his benefit, “Can you just hang out for a minute? I wanna make sure the last spread wasn’t a fluke.”

Steve leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest, reticent. Sure, Eddie’s ex had read his palm before, but tarot cards were beyond him entirely. He wasn’t sure what your presence had to do with the reading, but he wasn’t about to question it. Tracy instructed him to cut the deck again, his fingers approximating roughly half of the cards and set them to the right.

She shuffles them again, “So the first card is your past, the middle is your present, and the third is your future. Obviously,” she sets the first card down, “Tarot is an ancient storytelling system and a way of making sense of things.”

Tracy places the remaining two cards face side down next to the first and takes a breath. “Let’s see, shall we?”

The first card reveals a tower, the second a pair of cups reversed, and the final card—

A gust of wind blew a fourth card from the deck, landing next to the third card in the spread. Tracy drew in a steady breath, eyes cutting to you. “You do it. The energy’s off, I can’t—”

You back away raising both hands, “I don’t read for people, you know that.”

“But this—”

“Tracy, enough. It’s not gonna happen.”

Steve inspects the cards in question while the pair of you exchange furtive whispers. A tower, two of cups reversed, a wheel of some kind, and the lovers reversed. If the spread itself was anything to go by, it seemed that his future could go one of two ways as evidenced by the third and fourth cards.

“Well, if you’re not going to do anything helpful, you could at least talk to the aunts.”

You roll your eyes at that, “As if. Can you imagine? They’d have a field day with this.”

Tracy scoops up the cards once and for all, slotting them back into their silk pouch and drawing the strings. “Babe, I love you, but I’m beggin’ you to get your head out of your ass.” She nods toward Steve, “Talk to them. For him if not for yourself.”

“Fine,” You hiss turning tow to leave, “But I’m going to complain the entire time.”

“Love you, mean it!” Tracys calls out as you walk away before winking at Steve.

Shoving some cash in the charity donations jar, he grabs the cup of cider and his jacket from the back of the chair before jogging to catch up with you. Impressively, you’d made some headway back toward the aunt’s house, muttering to yourself all the while. He falls into step beside you, taking quiet sips from the warm drink, the scent of cinnamon and apples wafting through the air.

Too lost in your own world, you hardly notice his proximity— infuriating Tracy with her wily ways, stupid Steve with his soft smile and cozy-looking self, and your aunts who were no doubt cackling at this very moment watching you and “the nice carpenter” walk down Willow Street. It’s only when his hand accidentally brushes yours that your thoughts still. Taking a deep breath, you shake the thoughts loose and will yourself to shove your hand in your pocket. His brief touch searing you in its wake.

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