#handmade crochet cushion covers

[ravi666452]

Give a Different Look With Our Handmade Crochet Cushion Covers. Buy Our Cushion Covers Online From Bayaroost Online in India at an Affordable Price.

[hibernationfibres]

The long-awaited cushion cover!!! Finally complete!! After many attempts…

I went with a simpler design so happily I didn’t have to frog again, hooray! Pictured on my bed here but I’ve been using it on my desk chair mostly.

Yarn: Rico Creative Chic-Unique - Rainbow

Pattern: just two big flat granny squares sewn together, with an extra strip to fold over!

[fingertipsmp3]

Guys I want to knit and/or crochet my grandma something for her birthday but I can’t work out what she would want. What would you want if you were my grandma

[rafaelbivar]

Money Tips for Unemployed Stay-at-Home Moms

Being a stay-at-home mom without a job can be really tough on the wallet, no doubt. But you've totally got this!

Get that hustle on! Think of little side gigs or odd jobs you could do from home to bring in extra cash. Selling crafts online, freelance writing, or even just taking paid surveys - it all adds up!

If you're still coming up short after trimming expenses and side hustling, looking into loans for the unemployed could help bridge that gap. These handy loans don't require credit checks or proof of income since they know your job situation. You can get some quick cash to cover important bills while you get back on your feet.

The crucial thing is just borrowing what you actually need until your next money-making opportunity comes through. However, having that short-term financial cushion can provide huge relief during this stressful time.

Reduce Grocery Costs

Slashing grocery costs is a total game-changer for saving big! A few simple tricks can stretch your food budget like crazy.

First up, get hip to the world of coupons and cash-back apps. Another smart move is buying non-perishable pantry staples in bulk sizes when they're on sale. Things like rice, pasta, canned goods - stock up when you can. You'll spend less per ounce.

And get in the habit of meal planning around what's on sale that week. Grocery stores make it easy by literally telling you their best deals! Base meals off those discounted proteins, produce, etc.

You can even try growing simple herbs or veggies at home. Cherry tomatoes, basil, and lettuce are super easy to maintain and harvest with fresh ingredients.

Find Free or Low-Cost Activities

Are you keeping that fun factor going when money's tight? No sweating is required! There are so many budget-friendly options for entertainment if you get a little creative.

Don't overlook all the free happenings in your community, too. Museums and zoos usually have certain discounts or no-cost days. Your local library hosts all kinds of rad events like crafting classes and book clubs, and you name it.

Instead of blowing budgets on fancy restaurant meals, switch it up with potlucks at someone's place. You each cook up a dish to share and hang out with friends but without that crazy bill at the end.

You need to get resourceful about where you can cut costs while still making amazing memories. Free fun is absolutely possible with a tiny bit of planning ahead. Your social life and wallet will both thank you!

Explore Side Hustles

Being home without a steady job can shake up your finances. But don't stress - there are awesome side hustles perfect for supplementing your income!

For starters, look into paid online surveys and freelance writing gigs. Companies will pay you just for sharing your opinions or lending your writing skills. Easy money from the comfort of your home!

If you're feeling crafty, set up a shop selling handmade goods like jewellery, artwork, or crocheted blankets on sites like Etsy. Baked goods and treats also make for yummy best-sellers!

Dog walking, babysitting, running errands - your neighbours will be thrilled to have someone trustworthy available for tasks they're too busy for. Just spread the word you're offering those services.

Yard work is another winner that lets you set your schedule. Mowing, raking leaves, shovelling snow - people happily pay for that helping hand.

The beauty of side hustles is you can take on as little or as much work as fits your life. Even just devoting a few hours a week provides meaningful income.

Manage Debt

Dealing with debt when you're out of work is no fun, but getting it managed should be a top priority. The last thing you need is fees and interest compounding bigger balances.

First things first - be upfront with your lenders about your employment situation. Many are willing to work with you by reducing minimum payments or interest rates temporarily. Don't go ghosting!

While you've got some breathing room, focus any payments on chipping away at high-interest debt like credit cards first. Those steep APRs can trap you in a cycle otherwise.

For looming bills, see if you can work out payment plan arrangements to avoid racking up late fees. Honesty and open communication go a long way!

And above all else, resist the urge to take on any new debt for a while through loans, fresh credit cards, etc. It'll only worsen your situation long term.

Funding

Money troubles can feel super overwhelming for unemployed stay-at-home moms. But same-day emergency loans provide a quick fix when cash is desperately needed.

These short-term loans get money in your bank account fast, often within just hours of applying. No more stressing over how to cover urgent expenses like car repairs or medical bills quickly.

You can frequently qualify regardless of income situation or credit score. They're designed to help during financial crunches.

Conclusion

Financial stress can feel super heavy, but you've got this! With some smart planning, the money strain is totally manageable.

Take a deep breath. This is just a temporary setback. In the meantime, see where you can trim some costs to stretch that budget further.

[naxosartgr]

Significance of Hand Embroidery And Crochet Work – A Dying Work of Art!

Primitive humankind quickly found that the stitches used to join animal skins together could also be used for embellishment. These creative minds then started the use of embroidery to enliven their existence. Hand embroidery is one of the oldest forms of art and craft, with origins dating back to the Cro - Magnon days or 30,000 BC. Recorded history, sculptures, paintings and vases depicting inhabitants of various ancient civilizations show people wearing thread - embroidered clothing. During a recent archaeological find, fossilized remains of heavily hand - stitched and decorated clothing, boots and a hat were found. Furthermore, Chinese thread embroidery dates back to 3500 BC, and examples of surviving Chinese chain stitch embroidery worked in silk thread have also been found and dated to the Warring States period ( 5th – 3rd century BC). Embroidery and most other fiber and needlework arts are believed to originate in the Orient and Middle East.

During 1100 A.D., smaller seed pearls were sewn on vellum to decorate religious items and from the 1200's through 1300's beads were embroidered onto clothing. By 1500 A.D., embroideries had become more lavish in Europe, as well as other areas of the world. From this period through the 1700's elaborate thread and bead embroidery gained popularity. Bead embroidery could be found on layette baskets, court dress, home furnishings and many other items.

Elaborately embroidered napkins clothing, religious objects, and household items have been a mark of wealth and status in many cultures including ancient Persia, India, China, Japan, Byzantium, and medieval and Baroque Europe. Traditional folk techniques were passed from generation to generation in cultures as diverse as northern Vietnam, Mexico, and Eastern Europe. Professional workshops and guilds arose in medieval England. The output of these workshops, called Opus Anglicanum or "English work," was famous throughout Europe.

In the latter half of the 19th century, however, the manufacture of machine - made embroideries in St. Gallen in eastern Switzerland started to flourish. The process used to tailor, patch, mend and reinforce cloth later fostered the development of sewing techniques, and the decorative possibilities of sewing led to the art of embroidery. Sadly, elaborate freehand stitched thread embroidery began to dwindle with the machine age of the 1800's when Art needlework and Berlin wool - work appeared on the scene.

Nonetheless, handcrafted embroidery and crochet work hold a special place in the art world, both for their historical and functional uses. From intricate stitches and colorful yarns, handmade items can be transformed into pieces of art that tell a meaningful story or bring joy to the wearer or user.

These works of art are also highly functional, and are often used to decorate fabrics, create warm garments, or bring a unique personal touch to a home. Items such as curtains, bedspreads, and tapestries can be crafted with intricate stitches and patterns. Whether it is a modern traditional cushion cover, or a napkin with intricate hand – embroidery, these handmade items can also be used to make personal and emotional connections. Through a shared story, skill, or culture, handmade embroidery and crochet work can create a strong bond between the maker and the recipient.

The significance of these products goes far beyond their aesthetic appeal. Crafting items with one’s own hands is an art form: one that requires skill, patience, and dedication. It is a practice that has been passed down from generation to generation and is a source of both pride and joy. Handcrafted items can also be a form of self - expression and a way to capture memories, making them more valuable and meaningful than the dull store - bought items.

In this day and age, handmade embroidery and crochet work have more significance than ever. As the world turns to technology for more and more of the daily needs, the act of crafting something by hand has become increasingly rare. By supporting independent makers and artisans, we can help ensure that the tradition of handmade crafts will live on for generations to come. For more information, please visit: https://naxos-art.gr/

[rhjcrafts]

My final cushion is finished

I've used up yet more of the random balls of wool I have lying around, as well as attempted a new square pattern and trialled the 10 stitch blanket pattern I saw years ago and always wanted to make. I'm so glad I tried it on this project as I'm planning to use it to make a blanket for my sister. This has allowed me to work it all out and make my errors now.

The button opening doesn't look great (not shown) but I'm so happy with how this has turned out and I hope it won't be as loose as the others after a few months of being sat on.

The making off

Square side

The square side looks wonky due to an error I made with the starting chain so lost a stitch each round (and a few on the corners) after this post I started the 10 stitch square side so I could work out how many more rounds to do on this side. This is the final piece before crocheting it together.

It's wonky but at least each side has the same number of stitches now.

10 stitch blanket side

When and how to change the colours not quite in my head I just pushed ahead and started. Between the instructions and YouTube videos I slowly worked out how to do the corners. The first part was definitely the hardest so I was pretty chuffed when I got to the end of the first colour.

After a few more corners I quickly got the hang of wrapping stitches and it actually because a really easy pattern to do. I had decided from the start I wanted to have a obvious ridge in the back though I kept trying out what to do with the first stitch on the needle to work out whether slipping the first stitch made it easier. I believe it does.

Despite my previous error I didn't count stitches (or in this case rows) and realised that I was a few short on some sides. I then had to add a few in so it would become a multiple of 9 again.

With me stitch counting it came together very easily and although there was the odd slip up where I forgot to slip a stitch the pattern came out really well and I now feel ready to tackle a blanket in this pattern.

I stitched the two sides together using a double crochet join as I find it so simple, strong and neat. It found it worked well with the knitting too.

I definitely recommend the pattern and this video if you want to give the 10 stitch blanket a go

[fallenfurther]

I may be a key worker but this lockdown is still giving me plenty of time to get hobbies done (and ignoring chores)! Finished my first cushion cover!

[ethniccraftmuseum]

Etsy Macrame pillow cover 100% cotton home decor cushion cover woven boho macrame wedding pillow bohemian cushion cover nursery decor size 16x16"

Materials:- COTTON ROPE, MACRAME • HANDMADE IN INDIA: Ethnic Craft Museum are designed in manufactured in India. The Macrame Pillow Cover are handmade by Indian Artisans and the pattern is intricately crafted with a lot of attention to detail. Pretty and Practical. No pillow included with this product. • ECO FRIENDLY: Environmentally friendly product made from 100% cotton which is Sustainable, Renewable and Biodegradable. The Macrame Cushion Cover has a Cotton Lining and a Hidden zipper which is sturdy and is situated right in the middle of the back of the cushion which makes it easier to slide in the pillow/cushion. Size: 16x16" (40x40cm) • PREMIUM QUALITY MACRAME: Ethnic Craft Museum Cushion Cover can be decorated in any part of your home be it Indoors or Outdoors, in your patio, deck, balcony, sofa, bedroom, entryway bench. • DRY CLEAN ONLY: These Cushion Covers are intricately handwoven and the lining is soft and sturdy to support the Macrame design. Machine wash is not recommended, do not Iron as it would twist the cords and disfigure the Macrame Design. • UNIQUE GARDEN GIFTS: These Cushion Cover could be easily mixed and matched with various other textures and material around your space. They are a perfect gift for Housewarming, Baby shower, Weddings, Holidays, Birthday’s, christmas and more. • STYLE: Modern style, Boho touch, perfect for the festivals and other occasions.It is a great decor for your Living Room, Kids Room or your Bedroom. Good combination with all home decor styles retro, vintage, minimal. They are great for your wedding dining or bedding room. They’re also perfect for any special event.

Shop Etsy:- Woven Cushion Cover

[slashify]

Steve has a slight hand tremor. He deals with it. Eddie couldn’t teach him to play guitar, his fingers keep slipping off the strings, but he says he loves Steve’s singing voice. Will makes him a larger cushioned grip he can put on pens and pencils to help his handwriting. Mrs. Henderson notices his hands shaking one night and asks him if he’s ever crocheted. He’s confused, and tells her no, why? She sits him down on the couch and drapes a handmade blanket over his lap. Tells him Dustin’s grandmother had crocheted most of her life, and the blanket was one she’d made after her hands started to shake. Steve doesn’t know anything about crocheting, but the blanket looks too perfect to him to be made by someone whose hands tremble like his. She offers to teach him. They figure out he’s better with larger yarn, bigger hooks. The pen grip Will gave him works on his hooks as well. He works on Granny squares until he has enough to sew together into an afghan. He gifts it to Eddie, but he notices it on the couch more often than not. When Wayne’s home he covers up with it as he watches TV. So he makes another. And another. Before they know it, the party each have one. Max finds herself wearing Steve’s lopsided first attempt at a hat all winter. He’d made Eddie a dark red hat and scarf. Robin gets the first mittens he manages. They’re oddly shaped and two different sizes, and she loves them so much.

I just adore the idea of Steve having created something he can point to to physically show the effort he made. The idea of him wrapping up his friends with warm items he made with love.

[fashionbooksmilano]

The art of felt

Inspirational designs, textures and surfaces

François Tellier-Loumagne

Thames & Hudson, London 2008 , 309 pages, paperback,  23.37 x 22.86 cm, ISBN 978-0500287316

euro 28,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

An inspiring, all-color survey of designs and patterns for this popular craft.

Often thought of as a practical material, felt can be surprisingly versatile and even poetic. With handmade felted fabrics, subtle variations in color, texture, and volume can be achieved: threads and fibers merge almost magically to form new motifs that can then be enlivened by embroidered or crocheted details.

Françoise Tellier-Loumagne takes an original approach to the world of feltmaking, finding design inspiration in calm morning skies, spectacular sunsets, and brilliant fireworks displays. The book includes basic techniques that can be used to create felted fabrics from scratch, such as needle-felting and tufting, along with imaginative ideas for ready-made felt. With a little artistic guidance, clouds across the moon can be turned into an eye-catching necklace, or a stormy sky may inspire a striking scarf or cushion cover.

Illustrated with hundreds of images, this book will be a treasure trove for anyone interested in original textile design. Illustrated throughout

23/07/22

orders to:     booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

ordini a:        booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

twitter:         @fashionbooksmi

instagram:   fashionbooksmilano, designbooksmilano tumblr:          fashionbooksmilano, designbooksmilano

[ravi666452]

Try Now Hand Crochet Cushion Covers Online in India - Bayaroost

Shop Our Eye Catchy Hand Crochet Cushion Covers, Available Online Handmade Crochet Cushion Covers in India. Visit Us for More Information.

Shop Now - Hand Crochet Cushion Covers

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 11 ~One More Day~ The Final Chapter

Previously in Who the Hell is Harry? ...

They lay there like that for a long while, listening to the fireworks subside until only a few isolated booms from a distance could be heard. Their breathing and heartbeats harmonised, bodies interlocking to fit each other. Finally, Jamie eased himself off Claire, kissing her lips tenderly before disposing of the condom. 

Moments later, when he returned, she was on her side, watching him with a satisfied smile. "Happy New Year," she said hoarsely.

Jamie got into bed, pulled her into his chest, and bit her earlobe. "Happy New Year to ye tae. That was the best New Year firework display I've ever seen." 

She laughed and slid an arm across his waist. Nuzzling her nose on the hollow of his throat, he felt her smile against his skin, but her hold on him remained only for a few seconds before she passed out cold.

Not wanting to disturb the perfection of the moment, he gathered her closer and whispered, "I love you," into her hair, hoping and praying that the New Year will bring them together for good.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

  Laughing, Jamie and Willie noisily strode in from the kitchen backdoor at ten in the morning with Rollo in tow. They found Annalise and Claire making shortcrust pastry for the Cornish pasties and preparing sandwiches for lunch. Apparently, the boys were expecting a few of their mates to come over and help with a project.

With no forecast of rain for the whole week, the brothers had decided to knock down Jamie's old shed and build a new and bigger one. A day ago they'd torn it down, cleared the debris, levelled the ground for the extension, laid down some slabs for support and poured the cement for the foundation. This morning, they've completed the base and put up the wall frames, including the waterproof sheeting.

"Good morning, ladies." The brothers said simultaneously, making the girls smile in acknowledgement. Willie gestured for Annalise to follow him, leaving Jamie and Claire alone.

Jamie washed his hands, made himself a coffee and came around to where she was stood dropping cubed butter into the flour. "Have ye seen our progress with the new shed yet?" he asked. But before she could reply, he leaned in and gave her a swift kiss on the lips, making her knock the carton of milk over. 

Claire gasped, and Jamie grinned with triumph for catching her off guard. He brought his cup up to his smiling lips and winked.

"I have," she laughed, picking up the milk and wiping the countertop. "Are you sure, it's a shed you're making out there and not a small house?"

He leaned back against the counter and smiled. He'd taken off his jumper and was now only wearing a white long-sleeved t-shirt that stretched across his chest, showing the definitions of his toned muscles and broad shoulders. His eyes gleamed in the soft morning light, and Claire thought of how handsome he looked, making her heart pick up a little.

"It's a shed, but I thought while I'm in the process of restoring it, it would be a brilliant idea to build an additional extension for when ye come over for a visit, and ye wish to write. I'll have a huge window facing the field so ye can look out when ye need an inspiration. It's a grand view overlooking the greens. I'll even soundproof it for ye, so ye willnae be distracted by outside noise."

She arched an eyebrow in surprise. These past few days, she started to notice a lot of new items cropping up in Jamie's cottage. There were a couple of floral throw cushions she'd never seen before. And after Annalise had casually mentioned how much Claire missed her mermaid blanket, a handmade crochet mermaid tail blanket had shown up one night on his sofa while watching a movie. His cupboard was now fully stocked with her evening herbals such as chamomile, Valerian root and lemon balm tea. There was even a pair of soft fluffy memory foam slippers, waiting for her whenever she stayed over. Somehow, she was sensing a sense of permanency and more and more each day, she was starting to feel she belonged to him and his home.

Claire tried not to examine it too deeply and focused more on enjoying the moment, but it was getting harder. Because as each day slowly neared to her departure date, the hollow in the pit of her stomach became wider. And tonight was her last night with Jamie.

"Well, I suppose I won't see the finished product until I come over for a visit," she said with a little sadness in her voice.

Sensing the shift in mood, Jamie put down his cup and closed in on her, his fingers coasting past her jaw into the back of her neck, gently urging her in. He stilled for a moment, smiling an inch from her lips, as she inhaled him, his masculine smell, the coffee on his breath, the faint intoxicating scent of his aftershave mixed with sweat. Then he closed his eyes and kissed her.

"What do ye want to do on yer last night? Fancy going out?" he breathed against her mouth.

She swallowed and shook her head. "Shall we stay in?"

He cupped her face, opened his eyes and held hers with his. "I was hoping ye would say that." 

"You don't want to say goodbye to Annalise? It's her last day, too," she half-teased. 

"I think she'd want to spend her last night with Willie," he said seriously this time. He glanced down at her lips. "As I do with ye. But I want to spend the evening, not saying goodbye but making memories." He looked back up at her. "Memories that will bring ye back to me sooner."

Her heart pounded. She knew what Jamie was trying to say to her. 

She smiled at him. "I'd like that too, Jamie."

"Good, that's settled then."

..........

When Claire and Annalise brought out the Cornish pasties, sausage rolls and sandwiches for lunch, they arranged them on a makeshift buffet made out of wooden planks so the men could help themselves. Although it was in the middle of winter, the sun was out, and it was a lovely day to sit outdoors and soak up the heat. The hungry men descended on the food and sat on the benches Willie had earlier put out. Jamie filled his plate and grabbed a can of cider, and they sat on a thick blanket-covered ground, away from the rest, making sure the sun was on them since it was very chilly in the shade. 

"The shed is going to be massive," she observed, her chin in her hand. 

"That's the plan," he said, smiling at her, taking a huge bite of the Cornish pasty and humming in his throat to let her know how much he was enjoying his food. "Once the exterior is done, I'll send ye some photos, and then ye can tell me what colour ye want yer writing studio to be painted in." 

Claire looked at him for the longest time and then sighed. "Why are you doing all this, Jamie? It's not like we've known each other for a long time."

"But it feels like we've known each other for a long time. Ye know it too." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "And if ye dinnae like the wee studio, I can always turn it into a workshop."

She smiled. "At least allow me to put some money into it."

He shook his head. "Dinnae fash. Most of the woods we're using are from work, and I got the rest of the stuff from the reclamation yard," he explained with the eagerness of a young boy, his eyes all lit up.

She wanted to kiss him right there and then, and realised how much she would miss this place, especially him. He looked so rugged and at peace with his surrounding and very much part of it. And knowing that he wanted her to be part of his world, made her even more determined to wrap up her work in London as soon as possible and start that writing career she'd always dreamed of. Although a little niggling voice in her head was telling her to slow things down, she dismissed it, knowing that for once, her life had a direction she could look forward to.

She noticed, he hadn't put back his jumper on and was only wearing that long-sleeved shirt.

"Aren't you cold?" 

He shrugged. "Here in the sun ...no' at all."

"I'm sat in the sun with you, but I can still feel the chill. Even after working all morning next to the oven, I could not for the life of me just wear a thin shirt like that in this Highland weather. Are you sure you're warm enough?" She frowned, looking over him.

"I am. Do ye want to sit on my lap so I can warm ye up? I have a few ideas on how to quickly achieve that." His eyes gleamed.

She crumpled a paper napkin and threw it at him. He laughed out loud, making the group of men look their way. 

The sun rose higher, and the sky was cloudless, a rarity at this time of the year. Somewhere on a speaker played a Simple Minds song  Don't You Forget About Me,  and Rollo and another dog ran back and forth in the open field. 

"I have something to ask you," she said, plucking a weed from the ground and watching the dogs frolic. "At the risk of sounding clingy and needy, I want to know if you've had a lot of girlfriends ...or say, sexual partners." She shrugged and looked down at her hand. "I-I can't help but wonder ...well, you know, not that I have anybody else to compare you to, but I must say you sort of know things, like when we touch and love each other. And you seem to be good at it. So I figured that maybe you've had a lot of experience." Her eyes suddenly widened when she realised what just came out of her mouth. She waved a hand. "I mean, I'm no prude or anything, and I understand a lot of people are early bloomers and have had a lot of sexual partners. I-I just wanted to understand ...if  it  comes naturally to you."

He grinned at her over his sausage roll as if he was pleased to hear the possessiveness in her tone. "I'm thirty years old, Sassenach, and in as much as I would have loved the idea of ye being my first, I must admit I didnae live the life of a monk. So aye, probably ye can call it that ... experience. But if ye must know, I've never been drawn to anyone like I am with ye."

She cleared her throat. "Fair enough, and since we're sharing our thoughts, I want you to know, I feel the same way." She bit her lower lip and thought over the words she wanted to say. "You kissing me on a first date, making love to me on our second, running after me at the airport on the third day. Very rash, I'd say." 

"Only with ye." He laughed. 

He slugged the last of his drink, and she got up and grabbed him another cider. "How about your ex-fiancee? Any lingering feelings for her still floating around in the ether?" She asked, sitting back down in front of him. 

Looking at her straight in the eyes, he took her hand and rubbed the inside of her wrist. "I will always care for her, Sassenach. But what I feel for her is nothing more than friendship. She's about to be married, and she wants me to be the godfather of Simon's child. And if ye must know, I'm thrilled she's found somebody to share her life. I think Simon would have wanted that for her too as do I ...someone who will take care of her and their child." He twined their fingers together. "What we have between us is rare. Like what ye said, I was rash, but that's ever since meeting ye. Somehow I've lost the ability to guard myself. When it comes to ye, I lose all perspective and control. It's chaotic and scary at the same time, but I wouldnae wish it to be any other way."

She gave him a smile. "Sweet and convincing as you sound right now, I'm still not allowing you to come to London and visit me. It's too risky. I want you to get better first, and one day you will. I believe that."

"I believe that too."

They stared at each other for a while, their surrounding fading into a haze, and it felt like there were only the two of them left. Until the dogs' barking reminded Claire, they weren't alone. "Right now, I would like to kiss you," she said softly. "But I don't know what I feel about people watching us."

A gradual grin crept across his face as he let go of her hand. "Weel, I dinnae see how I cannot oblige ye. Just close yer eyes and dinnae mind them lads."

Smiling, he leaned in close and brushed his lips on the corner of her mouth. When she thought they were done and started to pull away, he caught her lower lip with his teeth, keeping her still. After a few heartbeats, they began to kiss, achingly slow and gentle, his tongue probing into her to tease, taste and mate.

The cheers, sallies and whistles from the men nearby kicked-off almost instantly, and even Rollo started to howl in unison. Intent only on each other, they ignored the raucous banter in the background and continued to kiss.

"Ye ken I'm gonnae get a lot of pelters for this," he murmured against her smiling lips, his eyes closed.

 "Well, you might as well make it worth your while." 

His chest rumbled with laughter, as he kissed her again, causing more cheers to intensify, utterly oblivious to their surroundings.

"Ah, here's my not so wee brother!" a voice cut through their own bubble, making them both jump.

Jamie tore his lips away from her, and they both glanced up. "Jenny!" He immediately shot to his feet and hugged the petite woman wearing a puffer jacket, black jeans and a pair of wellies. "When did ye get back? I thought I'd see ye just after Christmas."

"Aye, had a last-minute change of plan. I left yer pressies in yer kitchen, and Ian says he'll call one of these days to see ye. He's just got some catching up to do with work."

Claire absentmindedly wiped her hands on her jeans and got up, noticing the other woman's delicate features and black hair tied in a high ponytail. At first glance, Jamie's sister could be mistaken for an adolescent with her five-feet height and small frame. The only tell-tale sign that she was a Fraser was the same blue eyes and dark hair she'd inherited from Brian.

"I told ye no' to bother ..." Jamie's voice trailed off as he looked past her sister's shoulder. "You brought company."

Still not acknowledging Claire, Jenny beamed at Jamie and then motioned for the beautiful tall dark-haired girl standing several yards away to come over. "Ye remember Geneva? Aye? Met her at the centre today and we're going for coffee after. Actually, she told me she's going to be yer new therapist. Yer former one had to leave temporarily for the south of England because of some family emergency. Now isnae that grand Geneva's back? She's going to stay here for good."

The girl, Geneva practically skipped, stopping short of throwing herself in Jamie's arms as her eyes briefly caught Claire's. "Jamie!" she greeted breezily, giving him a slack embrace. "Nice to see you again."

"Aye." Jamie nodded, looking perplexed. "It's been a while. Didnae realise ye were around." Not waiting for Geneva's response, he grabbed Claire's hand, drew her to his side and planted a kiss on top of her head. "By the way, this is Claire, my girlfriend," Jamie said, with a hint of finality in his tone. It was almost as if he was giving a warning to his sister that there would be no discussion about it. 

He must have noticed Jenny ignoring her presence and wanted to reassure her he was on her side.

Claire offered a polite smile, a few words of greeting and shook both women's hand, all the while conscious of Jamie's comforting hand on her back. Its weight served as a reminder the promise he'd made to her at the airport, lessening the sting of Jenny's lack of warmth.

"Weel, Jenny, Geneva, nice seeing ye both but I'm afraid I have to cut this short. As ye can see, I still have work to do and Claire and I are in the middle of discussing some personal matters. So if ye'll excuse us, both." Jamie gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for the pressies."

"I'll give you a call one of these days to arrange for our first round of session," Geneva said, smiling at Jamie.

Jamie nodded and then he firmly grabbed Claire's hand as they edged past them, without another word. Once alone in the kitchen, Jamie pulled her in his arms and sighed into her hair. "Dinnae mind my sister. I'm sorry she wasn't as welcoming to you as the rest of my family."

She swallowed. "I'm fine, really, and I understand. Jenny is only concern about you. Who is that girl, Geneva?" she asked.

He exhaled and stroke her hair. "A friend of my sister. She used to live in the village but moved to Glasgow a while ago. I guess she's back and will be my new therapist."

"Oh, alright."

Jamie hugged her tight. "I want ye to know, it's ye and me now, Sassenach. I need ye to trust in that. Ye with me?"

She buried her face against his chest, as Jamie's words plunged deep and unearthed the truth she'd been grappling with ever since the count down to her departure date begun. For years she'd been living in a fog in London with no sense of direction searching for something she never had a name for. Now that she'd found it, she didn't want to spend a long time analysing it while doing a job that never gave her a sense of fulfilment. She knew now Jamie would follow her anywhere in the world, but she didn't want him to do that and lose a piece of himself. This was the place where he belonged, and she would find a way to belong here too, with or without Jenny's blessing.

She snuggled closer into his hold. There was a reverence in the way he held her, and all she could think of how cherished, safe and anchored she felt. More than ever, she felt secure in his affections and more optimistic about their future. Jamie was right. All that was left was them. Who would have guessed a month ago she would have her life all planned out around this man in such a short time. 

Shivering slightly with excitement, her mind flitted through the countless tasks that needed to be done before she could start her new life. To get back to her Jamie.

Looking up at him, she smiled. "It's you and me now, Jamie and I trust in that. Always."

He looked relieved as he relaxed in her arms, telling her something had lifted off his chest.

..........

That night, Jamie watched Claire from the sofa as she rearranged her suitcase for the umpteenth time. His parents had given her a boozy fruitcake, homemade preserves and a bottle of single malt to take with her, and she'd insisted she didn't need another bag to make everything fit in.

Though her beautiful face looked concentrated and determined with the task at hand, her whisky eyes looked haunted, already dreading the time when she would leave. They'd had a light supper earlier and made love twice, and there was only one truth that mattered. They loved each other. Though he didn't want her to leave, he needed to let her go, for now, be the voice of reason and the face of courage for what might be a lengthy separation. God knows, he understood what she was feeling, but he didn't want their last night together to be filled with uncertainty. He wanted tonight to be a celebration of their love and the future to come. 

How many times had he thought of persuading her to let him come even for just a few days? But then again it wouldn't be fair to her if she had to worry about him every single minute of the day when she would be better off concentrating on the work she needed to do. He had enough on his plate as it was with his arboricultural business and his own mental health, and he needed to refocus his attention on that. 

He told himself, it was a wee sacrifice, and this time next year, she would be here for good.

With a sigh, he slid down to the floor and picked up her travel diary. 

He glanced up at her, waiting for her permission. When she nodded, he smiled. He liked that they sometimes communicated without talking, like it was their own wee secret, instinctively knowing how the other felt or when the other was looking trying to get one's attention.

He carefully opened the travel diary which was thick with postcards Claire had pasted on its pages. A few photos slipped out. Thinking they were postcards, he was about to slide them back into the diary, when he realised he was looking at one of Claire's family photos. His heart leapt, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on Claire's father, confirming his suspicion.  Harry is Henry Beauchamp! But how and why?  Goosebumps coasted down his back. He didn't know what to feel other than have this urge to laugh out loud. He'd never believed in spirits or ghosts, but something inside him told him tonight was not the night to delve into it. He needed to talk to his godfather and find out more about Harry. And find out why Claire's father's spirit was helping him.

He felt Claire's eyes on him, and they stared at each other for a few moments. He put the diary down, and he opened his arms, and she slid into his embrace and onto his lap. 

He breathed in the clean scent of her hair and savoured the length of her body, fitting perfectly to his. His hand travelled down the curve he'd memorised and worshipped with his lips and tongue and touch. And he realised this woman had healed him, with her presence and humour and stubbornness.  Harry must surely approve.

Her whisper drifted to his ears like a wisp of smoke. "I have to leave tomorrow." 

"I ken." 

"Oh, God, but I don't want to." 

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I ken." 

She tilted her head back, a soft smile curling her lips. "Speechless for a change, huh?" 

He laughed, even though his heart was ripping apart at the idea of her gone from his bed and everyday life, realising what a gift she'd given him this holiday season. "So many things to tell ye but we have little time left. So I'm just gonnae hold ye like this to make up for the long winter ahead."

She blinked twice, a moist sheen apparent in her eyes. "Always the sensible and practical one, aren't you? " 

"I willnae be tonight." 

Claire caught his intention, and the longing they thought was already sated rose between them once more. He kissed her slow and thorough, taking his time, savouring the taste of chocolate, whisky and sweet honey, sinking deep and demanding everything. And she gave it all and much more, as they made love until all their energy had been spent and fell into a deep sleep in each other's arms.

..........

Claire walked out of the cottage and found Jamie waiting for her, her suitcase already deposited into the rental car. Willie and Annalise were in their own bubble locked in each other's embrace, whispering promises and secrets. She smiled at them, her heart hurting. Though Annalise's and Willie's relationship looked seamless, they'd had their own share of teething problems resulting in a couple of fights. Claire was glad they'd made up already before their departure. Claire walked with heavy feet over to them and cleared her throat, making Willie grinned boyishly at her. He let go of Annalise and gave her a big hug. Jamie did the same and enfolded her friend into a tight embrace.

"My brother and I are going to miss ye both" Willie whispered into her ears. 

"Me too. I heard from Annalise, we'll be seeing you in a couple of weeks. Is that right?"

Willie laughed and drew away. "Aye but unfortunately, I willnae be taking my brother with me. Someone has to be here to run the business." 

"I know." 

"I'll bring ye his love letters though," he teased.

She laughed.

With one last squeeze, Willie let her go. Claire watched Jamie said his own goodbyes to Annalise, making her friend tear up even more. Who would have thought, Annalise would be reduced to a bumbling mess when she had always been the one who had everything under control. Claire watched them both laugh with moisture in their eyes, both trying to downplay what they were feeling.

"Take care of my lass," Jamie whispered gruffly. "Ye have my number in case anything happens. Ye can call me anytime."

Annalise laughed and pulled Jamie in for another hug. Claire knew Annalise was trying to hide her own tears "You have my number too. Send me some candid photos or videos of Willie, whenever ye can."

"I will. I have a few embarrassing ones already on my phone. I'll send them once ye're in London."

Annalise wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "I'd love that."

Willie motioned Annalise over for another final goodbye. 

Her friend looked at Jamie before walking over to Willie. "I'll see you when I see you." 

Jamie nodded, smiling.

Claire faced Jamie, sliding her arms around his waist. "I don't like goodbyes," she whispered. "I wish I could teleport myself now to London, so I could just go back to bed and sleep off this feeling." 

Jamie caressed her cheek, his soft blue eyes filled with adoration. "Dinnae be sad, Sassenach. Enjoy yer trip back home and have a few laughs with Annalise. I took ye away from her a lot of times, keeping ye all to myself. Maybe ye can both catch up with whatever ye lassies talk about." 

"I'm glad I'll have her with me on the way home. She will at least keep me distracted from being sad." 

"Ye'll keep one another distracted."

They smiled, and Claire was about to say something when a loud excited barking filled the air, and she glanced over to see Rollo bolting towards them, tongue lolling with excitement. She laughed and let go of Jamie. "I haven't seen the kitten. Where is he?"

"Oh, Adso?

Claire frowned. "Adso?"

"Aye, I've named the wee cheetie, Adso. My ma used to have a cat called Adso, and I couldnae think of any other name, so I'm calling him that."

"Goodness, what a horrible name!"

Jamie laughed. "Try saying that to my ma. Anyway, he's at Mrs Fitz's for now until he's big enough to be on his own."

Smiling, Claire got down to her knees and hugged Rollo, burying her face into its warm fur and inhaling the doggy smell. "Going to miss you, handsome," she murmured, stroking the dog's back. "I'll never forget our first breakfast date. You were a perfect gentleman." 

Rollo replied by nudging her neck with his snout. 

She unfolded herself from the ground and walked towards the car, where Jamie waited. Annalise was in the driver's seat already while Willie leaned on the window talking to her.

Claire glanced at her watch. "I'll call as soon as we arrive home." 

"Looking forward to it." 

"Well, this is it." She stuffed her hands in her jean pocket and looked away, rocking to and fro on her heels. "Try that mediation I told you about so you don't have any nightmares at night." 

"I haven't had them for almost a fortnight, so I guess you have to talk to me on the phone until I fall asleep," he joked.

"That's very good, Jamie," she said, looking at him thoughtfully, this time ignoring the jest that was common in their conversation. "But try to look into meditation. If it isn't your thing, then at least you've given it your fair shot."

"I promise I'll give it a go tonight."

She smiled. "Good."

"And one more thing, Sassenach."

"What?"

"This." He braced her jaws with both hands and kissed her tenderly, the warmth and feel of his mouth, making her sigh, and her heart expand. When he raised his head, he had a beautiful smile etched on his face, almost beatific if it weren't for the mischief that always seemed to shine from his eyes. "I love ye, Sassenach." 

"I love you too. See you around?" Claire whispered, suddenly feeling the odd lump in her throat.

"I'll be waiting." 

She stepped away from his hold and quickly got into the car, allowing herself to take one last look at Jamie through her window. Time slowed in that instance, as if her brain needed a mental photograph, a keepsake to give her strength in the times to come. With his legs braced apart, one hand on Rollo's head, his coppery hair blowing in the wind, the leashed strength radiated in waves around him as his pale-blue eyes locked with hers. Annalise started the car, bringing her back into this moment, and he smiled and raised his hand in goodbye. She knew that took a lot of effort to keep that happy expression plastered on his face, so she smiled back, though wobbly, and blinked back the tears. A choked sob rose up from her throat, and it felt like she was losing a piece of herself she'd just found. 

With one deep fortifying breath, she tore her gaze away from him and looked straight ahead, as Annalise reversed and drove away. 

This time, she didn't look back. 

She knew if she did, she'd never leave.

Dear Readers, 

Well, here we are ... the final chapter of All I Want For Christmas. I thought I'd still be writing this until Easter. 😂 My problem with me is I get so focused on one scene and write too lengthy details about it, instead of quickly moving to the next. But hey, we live and learn. And the main thing is, I finished this story, even though two days later than I projected. 

If you think the ending to this chapter is sad, please don't be disheartened because there will be an arc or Part 2 as I wish to call it. 

As I mentioned in the previous chapter, I have decided to make this story into a series. The title of the series is, WONDERWALL. So if you wish to subscribe to the series, click here. As for part 2 of this series, I still have no definite date when I will publish it, but you can always subscribe on AO3 here or check my Tumblr blog if you wish to be updated.  

My plans are to start publishing the second part around holidays/special days. So either before Valentine's day or St. Patrick's day, all depending on how well I've rested and how quickly I can put the story together. 

Having said that, I thank you all for being part of the journey with this story, and I look forward to writing part 2 of Wonderwall for you. And also thank you so much for the kudos, feedback and follows. It warms my heart to know that you enjoy my story. Big hugs for that! 

So for now, I wish you good health and strength in these strange times. Keep the good vibes up, take care always and sending you all love. X 

PS: I will be updating the Masterlist of this story soon here.

[wxldchxld]

This started out as like, a light piece just to describe what Beck’s workspace looks like and I won’t lie I’m a little obsessed with it. People always ask me like how tf Harper and Beck get along and... this. It’s this. Harper turns into a big sappy baby who lives off of nothing but Loving Her Wife Juice.

I’ll probably go back and edit this a couple of times for typos and other things but I love it so much I just wanna post it rn. And I won’t be putting it under a cut so y’all will have to live with it.

Harper knocked, almost tentatively, on the open door. From outside she could smell the intoxicating aroma of fir trees and herbs, sweetened by dried apples and candied citrus, drawing the attention of any passersby and calling them in. But she lingered there, knocking a second time when she got no response. Somewhere an old record player was crackling as Judy Garland sang about far away places over a rainbow, and a warm voice was humming along with it. Harper gently ran her thumb over one of the embroidered silk foxes among flower petals embedded into the translucent curtain that covered the door. The fabric, a deep ocean blue, shuffled under her attention, and the little creatures looked as if they were dancing.

Even on the threshold of Beck’s workshop, the world felt so slow. Time didn’t abide by schedules and obligations. It flowed like a lazy river on the precipice of winter, slowly but surely crusting over with ice. If she stood still long enough, would it freeze entirely? Or would the warm glow that haloed her lover forever melt away the sharpest crystals and encourage it to move on?

She didn’t need to knock. She didn’t need permission to enter. Not only did she doubt Beck would care, but the building was hers. The city--in its own way--was hers. It was her nature to utterly and completely possess things---to take them into herself to keep. If someone asked, she’d likely have even said Beck was hers. 

But she had no claim over this place. It was a feeling that went far deeper than any deed or contract or organization. The magic here was so perfectly interwoven with it that it felt like it belonged to Beck.

Inside the room, there was a little tsk and a rich, quiet laugh. “What are you doing hanging out there like a bat? The door is open.” 

The door was always open. Beck still clung to the old superstitions of their people. Ancient rules about hospitality and ways witches ought to behave. Rules made in a time when their people had been valued and listened to, long before Christians had turned them into a target and Google had rendered them obsolete. But Beck claimed it wasn’t about people, it was about magic, and its strange laws that were shrouded in mystery. Magic, she said, liked to know its witches were always open and welcome to it. In return for a witch’s “proper” hospitality, magic would sweep away the bad luck that so often got caught behind closed doors. And--again according to Beck--spirits were much the same, and closing the door on them might cause otherwise benign entities to turn dark with anger.

But Harper had been raised by much less traditional witches. One specifically that would have worn her back end raw with a wooden spoon for letting the heat escape and airing their business out in front of their neighbors. 

She pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the room, leaving any lingering thoughts of her mother laid on the doorstep with the rest of her worries.

The apartment was an explosion of barely organized chaos. Dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling or were pressed between the thick, heavy pages of spellbooks laying on the shelves beside jars stuffed with candied fruits and tea leaves. Knitwork and embroidery and tapestries and clothing in all states of completion were laid out on tables or hung up from the wall. Live plants in brightly colored pots lounged in the sunlight that poured in from the huge windows on the far side of the wall. There was a collection of open-faced cabinets filled with canisters of wood and glass and stone that sat in clusters with no apparent system of coordination. Above her the high ceilings had been turned into an aerial playground of wooden bridges, little boxes, and plush cushions either nailed into the wall or floating in midair among the drying plants where her most cantankerous familiar could sit and look down on the apartment like a goddess. A fire roared energetically to her right, and to her left there was a small kitchen where an enormous pot of sliced apples was being attended by an enchanted spoon.

It was nothing like the penthouse they shared when Harper left her work to come home. But oddly enough Beck’s workshop didn’t feel cramped or chaotic. It was warm. It was inviting. Everything melted together on the merit that no two things were remotely related to one another in any sensible way. A way that suggested every single item had been purposefully hand picked or handmade by the master of the domain and placed precisely where they were meant to be. 

And there she sat, behind it all, nestled among the plants in front of a wall of windows. Her feet were curled up in the plush, gliding rocker beside her, and she was smiling up at her through a halo of sunlight. In this place she was a queen, and her crown was made of braids entangled with wildflowers and encrusted with knitting needles and crochet hooks that she had stuck away for safekeeping and promptly forgotten about. She was holding a little stuffed creature in one hand, and pulling a needle and thread in the other.

Beck always seemed fondly amused by the slow, reverent way Harper entered her domain. Their eyes met for a few gentle seconds, and then Beck looked to her right, where something shimmering and half formed in the sunlight began to move. Harper tried to focus on the spirit, but it collapsed in on itself and turned into a yellow moth as big as her hand, and lazily fluttered into the shadow of a flower by the window.

“That doesn’t unnerve you?” Harper asked, taking a seat in an armchair across from her girlfriend.

Again the blonde let out a breezy laugh that harmonized with the music in the background.

“You spend half your nights in an enchanted necropolis in some undisclosed abyss with only dead people and a renegade faerie for company, and an air spirit unnerves you.” She said, a playful perk in her brow. 

Harper scoffed in feigned offense. “Dead things don’t think. They don’t watch me. I don’t like to be watched.”

“What a shame. You’re quite the sight to look at.” 

Now Harper laughed, a rare, genuine chuckle of amusement. She wasn’t modest by any means, but Beck’s flattery could still make her heart race and her stomach fill with butterflies. As if it were the first time, even though compliments fell from Beck like droplets of rain in a spring shower.

“Well it’s a privilege. And it’s only bestowed on people I think highly of.”

Beck snorted soundlessly. “I can’t imagine there are many of those.”

“Only one, currently. And I’d let her do anything she pleased.” Harper replied. There was a small, suggestive grin on her lips, and a devilish twinkle in her eye.

“Oh?” Both of Beck’s brows raised and the hand holding her needle pressed against her heart as if she were shocked. “Then I guess I have someone to be jealous of, because you certainly don’t let me do whatever I want.”

Again she laughed, and Beck joined in with her. Harper rolled her eyes, her quick tongue failing her, and said lightly. “Shut up.” 

“See?! There it is right there. Always bossing me around.” The little witch clicked her tongue in fake disapproval. 

“Anything you want to me.” Harper corrected, still grinning so wide that it hurt her cheeks. “The fact that I don’t let you wreak havoc all across the tristate area is not the same.”

Beck held up both her hands in surrender. “Hey, you say potato, I say tomato.”

“That’s-” Harper halted her correction when she saw the look on Beck’s face that suggested her point was about to be proven perfectly. “Absolutely right.”

It was Beck’s turn to roll her eyes, and then she returned her attention to the project in her hands. Harper leaned forward just a little to try and catch a subtle glimpse, and without a word from the necromancer, Beck raised up the stuffed animal to show.

“Essi has decided that she’s infatuated with snails.” She said, shaking her head. 

Esteri was a frequent visitor in their home. Harper could remember when she was born how Beck had practically lived at Frankie’s house and brought the infant home with her when her friend needed rest. Midori and Jari had done just the same, and the door to her penthouse had practically revolved for months as the gaggle of friends came and went. Essi had just turned three a short while ago, and she’d grown into a wild-eyed, challenging little girl. Consequently, one of Beck’s favorite hobbies consisted of indulging her every whim and encouraging her to be as difficult as possible. If that meant making a snail to feed her newest fancy, Harper knew that “Aunty Beck” was more than happy to provide. 

“It’s not surprising, between you and Dori I don’t know who lets her play in the dirt more.”

“We play in the garden.” Beck corrected.

Harper refused to give ground. “Gardens are mostly dirt.” 

“It’s important for witches to know how to plant and grow.” Her playful tone had gotten a little more serious. Not angry, but carrying a thread of absolute belief. “You could use a bit more time in the garden. And the sun for that matter.”

“Alas my love,” She sighed dramatically, “I am a creature of the night.”

Something soft bounced off her nose and fell into her lap. It was the snail. It’s stupid, smiling face laughing up at her.

“Are you throwing things at me now?” She teased, “Do you really want to start this with me?”

“You’re the one who said I could do whatever I wanted to you.” Beck wasn’t even bothering to contain her wolfish grin.

“You. Not this creature you’ve created. I can’t take an attack like this sitting down. I have a reputation to uphold.” She stood up, stuffed animal clenched in her hand, and slowly walked toward the fire place.

“Don’t you dare!” Beck squealed. They both knew it was an empty threat, that Harper would never disrespect the woman she loved so brazenly, but Beck threw the blankets off her lap and scrambled to her feet in a flash. Harper held the stuffed creature high above her head as Beck latched onto her. 

There was a flush of heat that certainly didn’t come from any fire as their bodies pressed together. Beck was all soft curves over surprisingly strong muscles and blue eyes that glittered in the flames.

“Give me that back!” She demanded, trying to sound stern and reaching hopelessly for the toy. The pair stumbled and fell against a wall. When it shook a cascade of lavender petals and thyme leaves peppered them like confetti.

The necromancer curled one of her legs behind her lover’s and held up the animal higher. “I never knew you had this kind of rage inside of you. You know maybe you should go to therapy.”

“I never knew you were so annoyi-OH” Harper swept them both to the side, and Beck only managed to stay upright because she was being held against her so tightly. The little witch huffed, her cheeks flushing. “Oh I’m going to knock you over the side of the head so hard it smarts for a month!”

“See! There it is again! That rage!” Harper teased, merciless. A little childish, even. “Beck it’s me! Please, remember you loved me once.”

“You’re too rotten for loving. You give me that toy right now!”

Harper was shaking with laughter, her free hand wrapped around Beck’s waist as she strained. Beck was laughing too, intermittently. Every few seconds her angry façade would break just long enough for a smile and a chuckle that made her quiver against her.

“Why are you so godsdamned tall?! Was your mother a giant?” Beck’s hand had a hold on her wrist and her nails were just barely scratching the skin that ignited a dangerous excitement in Harper.

“A troll, actually. It’s a wonder I turned out so pretty.” Harper carefully guided them through the room backing them into the perfect position. When her hand was at just the right height, she felt the toy roughly ripped away from her, and the enormous black feline leaped over the both of them with it in her mouth, and (likely sensing what was about to happen) ran out into the hall. 

"They say the devil has a pretty face---and Angrboda you’re giving that back!” The smaller witch tried to twist to look at her familiar, but Harper had pulled her tight against her body. Now with her other hand free she tilted up her lover’s chin and kissed her softly, the both of them still intermittently giggling.

They turned again, fingers tangled in one another’s hair, lips locked, the air between them dissolving until her lungs burned but still neither of them pulled away. Not until Harper had backed the witch up to the armchair. She gave her lover a rough push and watched her fall back into the seat, panting and grinning in delight. 

She placed a knee on either side of Beck and trapped her against the cushions, reveling in the way she shivered. Her head stooped to whisper in the little witch’s ear. “And what would you let the devil do to you?”

Beck's hands were tightly gripping her hips, trying to pull her even closer. She smelled like apples and wildflowers and everything Harper loved in the world. She was everything Harper loved in the world. Perhaps even the only thing she loved in the world of the living.

“I’d let her do anything she wants.” Beck said beneath her, and the record came to a scratchy stop, and all Harper could hear was the crackle of the fire and the door slamming shut behind them.

[catlynnhighlights-studies]

Every person has a creative side, and it can be expressed in many ways: problem solving, original and innovative thinking, and artistically, to name a few. Describe how you express your creative side.

I'm sitting on my unmade bed in my cluttered room, and around me are the marks of the journey throughout my life. On one of my two desks are my thirty Pop figures, all bought months apart, each handpicked by a different me. There's one of red-haired Charlie Bradbury in Supernatural who made my heart flutter before I even knew I was gay, one of Hermione Granger who I dressed up as for three consecutive Halloweens, and three of them are of Good Omens characters. They aren't official, but custom; made with about $100 of figures and three weeks of work, my prized possessions. On my paint-splattered and time-worn dresser, there are eye-hooks and jump rings, polymer clay and handmade charms. I woke up one day with the urge to reinvent myself, and I began to make earrings. First, clunky shapes that my parents desperately tried to identify. Then it was an Etsy shop, baking huge batches of custom earrings for the holiday rush. My windowsill is full of plants, some 7 years old, like the plant I got for my 6th-grade promotion. Under it is the base of an entertainment center that I salvaged and restored from the dump, covered by a cushion that I 'had to make by hand, otherwise it obviously wouldn't fit.' It fits now. The seams are crooked and the filling is lumpy but it does make a perfect seat. It's covered in balls of yarn from when I crocheted matching sweaters for me and my Build a Bear frog, and embroidery thread from a Good Omens cross stitch pattern that caught my eye. I hope to eventually display it behind my custom figures. Behind me is a wall of faces, people I've never met. All of them are commissions. People who paid me to recreate them in marker, the streaks and imperfections a part of my style. They saw my faults and chose me not in spite of them, but because of them. So yes, my room is messy, but it's also uniquely mine, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I like this one *way* more than I thought I would. My final college app ranking is reading, this one, mythology, and hospital. As always feel free to tear it down to make it better because I’m submitting today D: