#but i found these tiny little snake cross-stitch patterns

[madegeeky]

Little bit by little bit we're getting there.

Honestly, I just don't enjoy the satin stitch that much and I'm not very practiced with it, so it's taking me ages to get anyway.

Also, I bought a new stitching "hoop" that's not a hoop. I was constantly having to move the hoop and it was messing with some of my stitches (see neck and chest) so I decided to try something else.

This is something called a scroll frame and it sounds like what it is: you wrap the fabric between two bars and stretch it out that way. (If anyone wants a pic, let me know.)

I'm not sure if it's something I'll use for all my stitching. It's very bulky and I can feel an ache between my shoulder blades which means that I was holding the frame in a weird way for at least a bit. The weight of it isn't a problem the way I thought it might be because I prop it up on chest and my leg and that takes a lot of the weight.

[hecohansen31]

What We Used To Be As Children

Harald Finehair x Reader (Vikings Era).

(A/N): Hello there, @gearhead66​!

A little bird told me that you were having quite the rough patch this July, and that today was your birthday, so I thought about doing a small thing for you to enoy and to brighten your mood, I hope at least!

Hope you’ll enjoy this!

SUMMARY: You had always been in love with your veloved childhood friend, but to him you weren’t anything more than a fellow memory, but when time come for you both to marry, he might just change his mind.

WORDS: 2,1 K

WARNINGS: Slight Mention of Abusive Household, Reader’s Struggles and Insecurities, Not Exactly Following The Series (but when do I ever?)

Rumors had been going through the entire Vesterfold that the king would choose a bride soon.

And it replenished your heart with so much sorrow and sadness.

You couldn’t deny that you had avoided your beloved friend Harald for quite some time, although it was difficult since you had been attached to the hip since you were children.

The man had many times moved away from kingly duties to ‘annoy’ you in your work of keeping the household clean.

And your siblings, rigorously all boys, fed.

Who liked teasing you and liked Harald much more than you, teaming up with him against you, each time.

And being worst gossipers than you, yourself.

One time, they had almost made your heart rush out of your chest, because the eldest of them had commented that you were ‘old’ and still ‘unmarried’ as if it was your fault, when your father could barely keep his trousers on his work, your only income.

Harald’s generous offers that you had started accepting after a winter you had been all your brothers almost die of starvation.

You had never meant to take advantage of your friendship with the king, although your father insisted that you did, always commenting on you as if you were some kind of prized cow to be sold out to the best offer.

You and Harald had grown up as smart children, always left to fend for each other and eventually you had developed a protectiveness between each other that made him worry for your family and you for his poor battered heart.

Harald had a taste in women that was dangerous, to say the least.

But you didn’t want to appear as some kind of jealous freak, preferring to simply smile, meanwhile your heart broke from the inside, because you both grow up, him with the idea of a kingdom for Eilisif, you had grown up with the idea of a small life with him.

And everybody in your house seemed to know.

You had been talking with Harald, having invited him inside as he had brought you some meat leftovers from the latest feast, and he had witnessed your brother unhappy comment and you had caught the onto it, glaring at your brother in a way that had made him stand up in his place.

But your younger brother couldn’t be convinced so easily, with his big mouth.

“… here comes the reason why our sister is unmarried!” he had shouted, meanwhile the toddler of the family had waved at Harald with his tiny hands, evidently having also understood what your brother had meant.

Your face had then been coated with crimson and even the ever-feared Harald Finehair beside you had blushed lightly, order your younger brothers ‘to leave you alone’, although it was a comment that held no strength in it.

Soon after the news of him having to marry came arriving to all Vesterfold and you had started avoiding him attentively, leaving only accidental meetings at the market or when you came to the feasts mostly for the food and the ale.

You wondered whether the knowledge of your interest in him had speeded up the process of him wanting to marry or he had been harboring the idea for quite some time.

Both ideas made you uneasy.

And your heart had already shattered itself to the ground the night that you had discovered he had invited a stranger in his own bed, bringing her from Kattegat and calling her aòready ‘his queen’.

You had never wanted that title for yourself.

Your childish-self had once jokingly married Harald in the middle of a clearing with only a dress of cotton and flowers threaded in your and his hair, and you would have done it again.

But he had obviously shown that he didn’t care for such a thing with you.

You had then wondered whether it had been you who had not been enough or if he had been too interested in following flames to sit properly at the hearth and enjoy its warmth.

Either way, it was none of your business.

It would never be, from the moment he swore his loyalty to her.

What good was a childhood friend to him now that he had a lifelong company?

And your father must have thought the same, thinking that if you lost Harald’s favor, he would have soon lost all his income and he wouldn’t have been able to simply sleep off the all day.

He had to do something about it.

He had to sell you out.

He had already sold all the pieces your mother had left from her morgengifu, so you were the only thing he could still sell without being looked like the madman he was and you welcomed gladly his choice, because you would have at least something to take care of your head meanwhile Harald enjoyed his wife.

And your soon-to-be-husband turned out to be a merchant, who had paid your father an hefty sum for your fertile hips and pretty smile, although you could feel his arrogant soul, you knew that you’d have travelled far away.

You’d be worried for your brothers, but some fresh air would have helped you.

And soon words of your engagement got out of your small town, mostly because of your father, who in a drunken fit confessed to you:

‘I had to fucking marry off my sole daughter to a foreigner… because that cunt of a king would hound her like a dog, scaring off all her suitors’.

You had calmed down your father, suggesting that Harald hadn’t cared about you all that much.

Had he cared for you at all, he wouldn’t have hounded your suitors, but he would have followed you, to chase your hand marriage.

But it’d never happen.

Or so you thought.

That afternoon you had been working thread and stitch, preparing your bridal dress and bridal towels, embedded with runes of fertility and strength, and although you weren’t looking forward to  wear the former and use the latter, you found the gesture strangely reassuring.

It certainly helped you to keep your mind focused.

And then all your friends were gasping, meanwhile you were teaching a smaller girl an elegant pattern and you thought your father must have again forgot his pants at home, but as you raised your head to scold him, you found it wasn’t your naked father.

It was much worse.

It was Harald.

“Ladies, will you do the favor of leaving me and (Y/N), alone?” his tone might have been an order and soon, in a fury of cotton and stitches all your friends had left the room, as you shifted uncomfortable on the chair.

It had gone all so well.

You had been able to avoid him perfectly and soon you’d be shipped off with your husband, enough not to have to meet him again.

You hoped and dreaded that thought.

“You aren’t seriously even going to face me?” his tone was arrogant and aggressive, pushing your head to look further up on the worn out boots you had chosen for that day.

Although you didn’t have much choice, since they were the only ones you owned.

You didn’t have the algid beauty of Astrid or the elegance of Eilisif, certainly not being able to compare yourself to them.

But you wouldn’t have hurt Harald.

Not intentionally at least.

“… we used to be best friends and now you can’t even face me” commented Harald with disdain in his tone “… what might have I done to make you act like this?”.

‘You are marrying, after you promised to do the same with me, under a crown of oranges and lilies’.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

“I’ll be a married woman soon” you simply chanted, the words sounding so foreign on your tongue “… and I don’t think it is proper for me to see other men that don’t belong to my family”.

Harald took a sharp hiss and then his fist hit the back of the chair next to him, startling you at the horrid sound that gesture made, not afraid of Harald, never afraid of him.

But the gesture wanted to make you fight him.

“… don’t ruin my house” also your voice was a hiss, a snake hiss, as your eyes finally met Harald’s amber ones “… you’ll be a polite guest or I’ll have my fun throwing ‘an old friend’ outside, believe me…”.

And Harald’s face shone of hidden amusement.

Because that had been the façade his friend had always given him.

And that was why he had chosen you, through so many children.

You didn’t give a shit and you wouldn’t have coddled him.

“… then don’t bullshit me” he shot back “… your soon-to-be-husband isn’t the one thing stopping you from visiting me… and if he is… he isn’t the right one for you”.

“As if you knew who is right for me” you spoke back, as you crossed your arms over your chest, leaving your weight completely on the back of the chair.

And he had pushed himself forward, grabbing under your chin with a swiftness that had caught you completely off guard.

“… I do” and his eyes spoke of inner truth “… you deserve somebody who’ll treat you with kindness and won’t be afraid of that savage side you hide to everyone but me”.

“My future husband might be just like that”.

But even your tone wasn’t convincing.

In the slightest.

“You were always a terrible liar”.

“And father wants to sell me. He has to since you won’t be providing for us anymore”.

Harald’s eyes became tight at that mention and you knew you had hit a sore spot.

He had always wondered what people loved him truly for, aching for a pure love, one that would have withstood rain and fire, whether he was a king or not.

And he hadn’t ever had anybody for that.

Except you.

But you knew he harbored some doubts due to your father’s inquiries towards him.

And you knew the quickest way to push him away.

“… who told him I won’t take care of you” one of his hands lowered itself onto your arm to stop you from the cross position you were in “… I’d take care of you and your family for as long as I live”.

“Will you swear it?” you were teasing darkly, and you saw the beast appearing in the man’s eyes.

And it made liquid arousal fall down between your legs, making you shift your legs closer, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed to Harald.

But you brought back his attention.

“… you’ll have a wife” his eyes were glued on your body, as they lowered themselves slowly “… and she won’t be happy of your help towards me, Wives are jealous and wicked things, wanting their husbands solely for themselves”.

“I thought husbands were like that” he commented, and soon his hand was again under your chin, indulging on your throat in a way that was a sensual caress and suddenly the air in the room had tensed itself up and it wasn’t rageful anymore.

It was arousal.

“… wives hold the heart of the beasts in their hands, believe me” you chastised him, holding yourself closer till you were inches apart from doing what you had ached obtaining for a whole lifetime.

Not a child anymore, and neither a clumsy teen.

A full-grown woman.

And a threat in itself.

Harald pushed you back still so easily that it made you feel like a ragdoll.

And soon you were in his arm, unable to run away.

But could you seriously run away from the place you had always wanted to stay in.

“Did you just say that I am a beast”.

“I am not your wife, so you aren’t my beast” and then realized that one minute spent in his arms would have been a minute more of torment in your mind “… leave me, Harald, my father could walk over us and…”.

“… he has already… so many times” he spoke loudly “… and you don’t want me to leave”.

“Think about your wife!” you tried to make him reason.

“… I don’t have a wife” he breathed on your lips.

“Not yet!”.

“Not anymore”.

And that surprised you as your eyes pleaded him for more.

“I sent her away…” he confessed, as he brought you closer and right on your lips he whispered “My heart is not mine to give because it is already yours”.

[dazeyrains-blog]

No more rum.

#Caryl fic. "No more rum"

They'd been jumped. Not by a whole herd but enough of them, 15...maybe 20, the whole lot of them had come out of nowhere during what was to be a simple store raid. Carol and Daryl had been out since noon and it had been getting dark before they had come across an old food outlet, barely touched. They thought they had hit the jackpot and celebrated by taking their time, loading up the truck, catching each other's eyes with smiles across fat shelves.

They'd found a whole stack of bottles too, rum, vodka, whiskey, gin. Daryl had cracked the rum and they had been sharing a small toast when it had happened.

All of them. Like silent snakes, descended upon them, splitting Carol and Daryl up, forcing them to opposite ends of the store. They had a fight on their hands.

Daryl shot his arrows faster than lighting and Carol poked her knife in and out, socket to socket "The warehouse!" Daryl called, fearing the worst as he watched her struggle. She followed his eyes as she battled three walkers at once "Out the back, we'll lead them through then make a run back around for the truck!"

She nodded, mapping the distance to the door and the time she'd have to get there as Daryl managed to skillfully climb a babymilk display stand. He knew he only had a few seconds before the dead would knock it and him back down but he clambered fast, shooting two arrows across the way, ridding Carol of some of her biters, giving her the chance to run. She did but she got to the door and stopped, just in time to watch Daryl go crashing down

"Run, woman!!"

She ignored his orders and instead, made her way towards him, picking the walkers off one by one from the back whilst their sights were set on Daryl.

Between them, Carol and Daryl managed to dwindle the group down to about 6 or so then made a dash to the warehouse, out the back delivery hatch and back round to the front of the store to the truck. Leading the dead through the back had given them amble time to throw a few more supplies in the back before shutting up the hatch and driving away full pelt.

"Woo!" Daryl sung, high on adrenalin and a little off rum "Damnit! That was close! Woo!"

He side grinned towards Carol in the passenger seat who unfortunately wasn't sharing his enthusiasm.

"Hey" he said softer, patting her leg "we made it. We're alive"

But she just shook her head quietly, staring out to the road ahead.

"I need you to pull over" she said, pointing to a lay by in the road. "Just here. Just for a minute"

She was as pale as a ghost, green almost. Daryl figured the rum had hit her harder than she'd expected and it was about to repeat itself all over her...all over the dash board too.

He pulled over and she got out, making her way to the back and opened the loading hatch.

Not that Carol had much hair for him to hold back, he followed her anyway, but was confused as she climbed into the back of the truck and just...stood there...staring blankly around.

"I need you to come in here" she said He hesitated, unsure of her intentions. She rolled her eyes "In case any walkers come by will you just get in here" she asked again. Her voice was stern so he complied immediately, pulling the hatch half closed again behind him and clicking his flash light on, keeping it low.

He placed his bow down onto a box of twinkies and eyed her up and down. "What's goin' on?"

Carol stared at her feet. He didn't want to pressure her but the moon was up and he didn't feel comfortable sitting on an open road with a fully stocked truck. Her shoulders shook a little and in the glint of his torch light he saw a tiny splash of a tear hit her boot. Daryl moved towards her but she stepped back.

"Don't..." she sniffed, wiping her hands across her face

"What the fuck is goin' on with you Carol...you're scaring me"

"I've let you down" she admitted, trying her best to stop her tears from falling. Daryl shook his head, baffled by her words.

"You did great back there" he argued "Saved my god damned life...what are you talkin' bout?"

She was silent. Maybe it had shook her up a little too much today. It had been hot out too, so that wouldn't have helped. But now, they didn't have time for sentimental, hormonal shit like this and this wasn't like Carol at all. He nipped her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger and smiled softly.. .

"C'mon 'C'" he beckoned, using the pet name he had given her that usually always made her smile. "No more rum for you"

He'd started towards the hatch as she spoke out...

"I've been bit" He stopped in his tracks. He'd misheard, surely...

"I've been bit Daryl" she said it again and this time he heard every word "it's all over"

He turned back to face her, his heart beating fast in his chest. It couldn't possibly be true...not her, not Carol. His legs and hands fidget as he tried to make sense of the words that had spilled from her mouth. He tried to speak but found he couldn't so she answered his in asked questions.

"It happened... its done" she said calmer than before. It was as if she had already prepared herself for it and she was ready . "I felt it before I saw it..."

"You saw..."

"I was struggling with two walkers when I felt a pain and I turned and there was a third behind me and..."

"Show me" he said, taking a deep breath "I need to see"

Carol nodded once and started to unbutton her shirt, turning around slowly. Daryls hand moved to his mouth when he saw the circular blood stain at her back. He tried hard to hold back his tears, she was shaking and it wasn't fair to lose it in front of her so he kept breathing and he waited until she had peeled away her sodden shirt and threw it to the floor. She stood there, exposed and terrified as Daryl raised his flash light to take a closer look. He got to his knees and edged closer, close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin and for a second it made her forget about the pain, about the bite and the dead and about this world.

For a second she thought only of her and him, alone, here, in the darkness, his breath on her skin, her exposed breasts... She felt his rough hand grip her side as the fingers of his other traced a delicate circular pattern around the wound, making her close her eyes and wish they were in another place, another time. But her time was over. She'd let her guard down and had been too worried about Daryls fate to worry about her own and it had happened. She opened her eyes knowing that if it was to happen again, she'd sacrifice herself a thousand times over to save him. Only him.

She felt him press his forehead against the base of her spine and breath out heavily. Was he crying? It felt and sounded that way, meaning it was true. All was lost for her.

She wanted him to do it quickly. Away from all the others. His sentimental shit would have to wait also til she was dead and buried in the ground. She tried to move away but he held her like a vice and suddenly he was... laughing?

Whole heartily belly laughing behind her, with his rough beard scratching against her back. She spun around, pushing him off to find her shirt and cover her exposed chest as he laughed on.

She felt hurt, exposed. He got to his feet and wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands, all the while still laughing away at himself or at her...She wasn't sure anymore. Had he gone mad?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he tried, waving his hands at her as he tried to catch breath. It took him a second but when he did he stood and looked at her for a second, only making her feel even more exposed.

He had indeed gone mad. She was somewhat flattered that her imminent death would cause a man to go over the edge, I mean, at least he cared. But right now it wasn't about him.

She felt for her knife but he stuck a hand out and placed it on her shoulder to stop her.

"We won't be needing that" he said but she shrugged him off and took it out anyway.

"I want you to do it to me now. Quickly" she ordered "I don't want the others to know, tell them I went down in the fight, tell them I-"

"You're not bit" Daryl said, folding his arms across his chest Blinking, It took a second to register his words.

"What..." she asked

"You're not bit" he said again, this time with a huge grin spreading across his face

"Wait...What do you mean? I felt it...I felt-" Carol looked behind her but the wound was too far around to see

"Well unless one of those walkers has a set of teeth that forms the perfect thin line of a circle, I'm guessing all that is is one of those god damned poles that were sticking out of the shelf in the hardware isle you were scrambling around in..."

Carol blinked "A perfect what..."

"Circle" he whistled, drawing the shape in the air with his finger. "As perfect as a full moon, shame it wasn't stamped a little lower, I'd be throwing some ink at your ass and stamping you for life, dumb woman" he laughed again

She thought back to the incident, she had spotted the poles before the walkers had ascended upon them, the fight was a little hazy in her mind but when she thought really hard, she does remember being pushed into a couple of shelves before the walker had come up behind her...maybe Daryl was right...

"No teeth marks? Nothing?"

Daryl shook his head "No teeth, no torn flesh, no infection..." he replied "Must have backed into the end of that pole pretty hard though cuz it's deep, you'll need stitches...but you're good"

He saw the confusion in her eyes and soon the humiliation dawned "C'mere" he said, wrapping his arms around her. He shouldn't have teased her, it would be good to laugh about it some day but he realised that now wasn't the time. He buried his nose into her neck and his hands rubbed the bare of her back slowly, wanting to stop her shivering but he knew he might be crossing the line a little, not that she seemed to mind as he felt her hug him back tighter. He placed a kiss upon her forehead and let her go. "Get yourself dressed" he winked "Maggie will take a look at you when we get back, ok?"

Carol nodded, hugging her shirt to her chest as he hopped out of the truck She dressed, took 5 to calm down, slid her knife away and locked the hatch back up, re-joining Daryl in the front cab.

"If you're lying to keep me calm" she said, fastening her seatbelt "I'm coming back to bite you first"

Daryl laughed and started the truck up "No more rum for you ever, never again"