#punch needle and home decor

[melncogoods]

Etse shop

[catboyriot]

Some of my favorites from my new shop update! I made a bunch of cute little rugs and goods for the start of fall! Come check it out!

catboyriot.bigcartel.com

[glazenewt]

Up until November 26th, these four lovely punch needle pieces I made are on sale for 25% off on my Etsy! Snag them while they're available!!!!

[vonabstracts]

kirby 🩷 (2023)

my commissions are open // message me w/ any questions

[smileshighway]

Punch Needle Rugs

[otuker]

Autumn Design, Punch Needle Coaster, Handmade Coaster, Punch Needle Mug rug, Pumpkin Mug Rug, Car Coaster, Autumn Decortions

[indecisivenatalie]

I made some Chappell Roan wall hangings! You can buy them (if you like). I'm probably never gonna make any more of them. K bye!

[alicewisbeystudio]

Sage green and white, grid pattern, hand tufted punch needle mirror

Made using secondhand yarn and reclaimed mirror from a makeup palette

[monarchberrysblog]

UNDER THE STARS ⋆⭒

⋆｡°✩ part two to: NOTHING BUT TROUBLE

credit to: @mar_marOu on Instagram & @/marmarOu on X and Tumblr!

✭ 🔞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✭

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: sometimes, a hero and a vigilante need a break from the hectic city environment.

✭ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃. miguel and the reader are in an established relationship, brief mentions of kleptomania, exhibitionism (both of y'all literally don't give a fuck but seriously, don’t do freaky stuff outside), cumplay (?), cum eatting (we are going there too), uncircumcised peepee 🤭, hard? dom! miguel, assertive behavior from the reader, cunnilingus (f! receiving), unprotected p-in-v (please go to your local planned parenthood to educate yourself), and heavy breeding kink. (he scrambles your eggs 😝)

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: +1.6k words 🤭

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Nothing But Trouble blew up overnight! thank you for your undying support! it means a lot to me 😭 if there are errors, i do apologize, it's been a month since I looked at this. I'm slowly getting back in the groove.

here’s to my followers! y’all live in my basement now 🐈‍⬛ 🩵

The low clouds in Nueva York cascaded onto the ground, creating a murky environment in now empty streets. It was a quiet night, even for Nueva York. Within the apartment buildings of the hustling city, many were home, sheltered away from the smog air. Some were fast asleep in bed with their blankets, and others were cooking a warm meal for the evening. But for you, you were dragged out of your soft, cozy bed past the window edge decorated with many potted plants and small trinkets. You were now climbing the fire escape, wearing your pajamas and a simple black sweater.

The cat dragged you out into the cold environment, away from your warm, cozy bed. You yawned as you climbed up, swiftly up the fire escape, feeling the now wet bars against the palm of your hand.

The memory of seeing a text message from Miguel immediately came to mind when your slipper fell off your foot, causing you to shoot a web at it to retreat.

The "I want to see you real quick" text meant nothing but trouble from him. He was always up to no good, leaving a little mess behind, like a cat playing with a ball of yawn, only for the poor creature to be tangled in its consequence with big, teary eyes.

Nonetheless, you continued your climb up, finally reaching the rooftop.

The cold air nipped at your skin, piercing its cold air needles through your sweater and pajamas. Bringing your hands close to your mouth, you exhale warmly to your freezing digits, rubbing your hands, seeking friction to warm your dead, lifeless fingers temporarily.

You stand idly, waiting for his arrival.

A puff of smoke escaped your lips while you yearned for your return to your warm bed and away from the cold weather. Then, your vision darkened. A pair of large hands shield your eyes from the skyscraper lights of Nueva York. "Miguel!" You squeaked, reached to grasp his hands, and forcefully attempted to pull them away from your face. "Seems like you're happy to see me." He croons against the shell of your ear. His voice vibrates against your eardrums, reverberating down to your core. "Tell me why you're here...!" You finally pull his hands away from your eyes and turn around to see him.

"I can't see my favorite person in the whole wide world?"

"No, no, you can't."

"Ouch, I'm hurt." He feigns pain, placing a hand against his "aching" chest cavity. You chuckle, delivering a punch against his shoulder, and sigh. "Really, why are you here?" He chuckles at the question, his palm rubbing away the aching punch that blossomed under his skin. "I have something for you-"

"Did you steal it?"

He frowns at the question. Sure, it was a given that he tended to snatch the next shiny thing in sight, but this time, it was... different.

"No...!" He hisses. "I bought it with my own money." He reaches down to his toolbelt and grabs a drawbag. He opens the tiny draw bag and retrieves a small royal blue box. "It's for you." He tosses the box to you. The little box jumps around your hands before it settles down on your palm. "I hope you like it." He huffs a bit of his cheeks while watching closely.

Your hands move independently, opening the tiny container. The velvet plush container revealed a heart-shaped necklace; the midnight blue stone glistened in the moonlight, shining independently. "Miguel...?"

"Now, don't get sappy on me." He scoffs, displaying a frown. Behind the frown, a smile waits to be displayed. He browsed at multiple boutiques, hoping to find something that was meant to be for you. Something that stood out from the rest. Simple, but it was made for you. "You got this for me?" You pout and soon retrieve the necklace from the velvet box.

"Do you like it?" The question felt boyish, even for him. But it was such a cute action coming from him.

"Yes! Oh my god! Help me put it on!" You bounced on the balls of your feet, ready to be climbing on the walls. "Put it on me, put it on me!" You repeat the phrase as a mantra, handing him the necklace to help you put it on. His frown breaks as he chuckles and assists you put the necklace on. "Do you like it-" He repeats and immediately gets jumped into an unsuspecting embrace. "Stop asking the question! Yes, I love it!" Your laughter fills the space as Miguel's hands work to get a proper hold of your bottom. Your laughter filled the space before the slowly descended to soft giggles and sighs.

His nose nudges against the tip of your nose, slowly creating a gap of silence between you. "Hi..." you whisper, nudging your nose against his. "Hey, " he croons as he nuzzles closer, planting a gentle kiss against your lips, molding your lips perfectly. You hum at the contact and enable the soft kiss. His fingers dig into the plush of your bottom as his claws sink deep into your skin.

Soft suckles and sighs fill your personal bubbles before pinning you down against the ledge. Your hands grasp Miguel's bicep before his chuckle greets your ears. "C'mere..." His hands move to hold onto your hips and drag you closer to his hips, rubbing himself against you at a slow, agonizing pace. "Even when it's cold out, you are warm."

You turn to look down, seeing the hustle and bustle of the streets, the lights looking nothing but a speck of light. "No one is gonna see us." He hums before he nuzzles his way to the crook of your neck, slowly placing soft kisses and trailing them back to your lips.

"Are you sure?" You push the question and lean closer to the soft butterfly kisses against your skin. "It's dark, no one is going to see." He rubs his straining member against your aching core, fluttering and waiting to be penetrated. His hands tug away at your sleep shorts, desperate to cease them off your body.

The thin line of arousal builds up against the gusset of your underwear, the slick, clear arousal clinging against your folds. "Let me get a taste." He pulls away the gusset, his fingers feeling the warmth and heat against his digits. "Look at that; you were already preparing for me..."

He kisses his way down to your core, almost moaning at the scent. You were his catnip, the temptation luring him to you, to roll his tongue at the liquid, sticky ecstasy, to drown in it.

His nose budgets against your clit as his tongue laps at your entrance, collecting the taste. The cold air, accompanying his warm breath, nipped at you as your walls clenched around nothing. You are opened up to him like a blooming flower, exposing more of your now sensitive clit. “You are too sweet…” His voice is muffled thanks to his tongue licking your entrance from the bottom to the top.

Your eyes shoot open when you feel his middle finger linger at your entrance, tracing the opening slowly. Your breathing catches you, also as if you were sprinting in a marathon. He pulls away from the intimate kiss from your lips, his lips coated in your mess. "C'mon… let everyone hear you." He purrs and pushes two fingers in, feeling you clench against his digits. "Easy there, quierida." He keeps at a steady pace, immediately hearing the wet slaps. "There we go, there we go..."

The small whimpers evolved into full moans, your moans only audible to him but immediately drowned out by the sound of honking cars and noises in every other corner of the gloomy city's lively life. "Let me hear you, let me hear..." He slurps the sticky discharge before he is immediately shoved into you by your hands. You wailed out, squirming about before he pinned you down. "Open your mouth, now." His demands muffled, not daring to move away from your puffy folds.

You did as he said and screamed out an orgasm, nearly waterboarding him. He pulls away from your puffy folds and is wholly doused. You croak out a noise, ready to say something, but get stopped. “Just keep your mouth open.” He pulls down the zipper of his suit before he frees the strained tent between his legs.

Not earning a warning on time, he spits into your mouth, giving you a taste of your cum. The strong tangy taste and substance stayed in your mouth as you kept your mouth shut in shock. "Swallow it." He heaves before he reaches down between the two of you and lazily pumps his aching cock. You reach down and pull back at the foreskin gently, allowing to see the mauve tip peek out from the extra skin.

You grab his cock, pulling him close to you and pushing him into you. He groans softly at the sensation as he rocks himself in and out of you.

You swallow your cum and bounce on him, following his lead and feeling the familiar pressure between his tip and G-spot. You flutter against his length, trying to create a consistent rhythm, but the rhythm comes out staggered and messy. "You've been working on your kegals? You little slut." He hisses while pushing you down on the ledge.

"You're getting there. I can feel it." Strands of hair begin to stick to his forehead, and sweat soon drips down onto you, landing on your blouse and occasionally on your face. "Together now, you can do it. Hold it, " he demands as the pace increases. You look over at him, mouth agape and eyes pleading. Your hands grasp his exposed bicep, fingernails leaving crescent indents and red streaks.

"No, I know what you're thinking. Not yet." You pull him close, feeling your lower stomach bubble like a witch's cauldron. He leans down, planting you a harsh kiss, his tongue creeping its way to yours. You eagerly oblige, still tasting yourself on his tongue. "Now, go ahead." He rasps, rubbing his thumb against your clit. With one final thrust, you splash the two of you, your mess landing on the floor beneath the two of you.

"There you go, I'm so proud of you." He leans in to kiss your temple and nuzzles close. He slowly pulls out and looks at your pully walls. Not even a moment later, his cum spills out of you, dribbling down past your swelling folds. "Hold on, nena." His fingers gather his cum and push his cum back into you slowly.

He pulls his fingers out, residue lingering on his fingers before he licks the mess off.

"Don't waste a drop."

[mrghostrat]

since we’re on the topic of bookbinding, i’ve been wanting to get into it but i haven’t actually done any research (yet) other than vibes, so do u have any tips for complete beginners?? :)

@geminibookbinding is who inspired me to finally look up the whole process and figure out where to start! this is the super helpful tutorial i got from them

i had dabbled with binding before though, using Sea Lemon's tutorials to make blank sketchbooks yearsss ago. i still use her text block and diy hardcover videos as a refresher/reminder while i bind!

the biggest thing that stopped me from learning to bind printed fiction was not understanding how to print the text from home, specifically how to get the pages in the right order for signatures. it's actually so easy with some very simple to use programs: QuantumElephant for PC users (free), and I use BookletCreator on Mac ($20)

i want to go into more detail about my process and supplies from a beginner perspective, i hope this helps:

format the text in a word processor

export your document as a single page PDF

enter that PDF file into Quantum Elephant or BookletCreator, to rearrange the pages for your signatures. your program will give you a new PDF file that you can then print.

4. double sided printing: i was so so scared of this at first, but it's incredibly simple. no matter what printer you have, somewhere in your print settings will be an option to print even or odd pages.

print all the even pages first, then when the stack is finished printing, flip them over, insert them back into the paper feed, and print the odd pages.

5. fold the signatures together so you have a stack of little booklets, then mark on the spine where your sewing holes need to be. manually punch the holes using an awl, or diy an awl by stuffing a cork on the end of a straight needle.

6. sewing: take regular sewing thread and run it over a block of beeswax. this makes the thread easier to manage and holds it in place better while you sew. a curved needle is also much easier to use than a straight one, especially for a kettle stitch (using Sea Lemon's tutorial)

7. gluing: glue decorative pages (or plain, but thicker paper) to the front and back to create your end pages, then press the book flat to apply PVA glue to the spine. press it overnight so the glue dries flat. (optional: glue a ribbon to the top of the spine, then sew on headbands) finally glue an additional piece of paper (or mull) around the spine to strengthen it.

8. optional: trim the edges of your book down to create a smooth edge. this one's given me the most trouble because it's very hard to get right with a knife, and the proper supplies are expensive. check your local stationery shop (i.e. Officeworks, Staples) for an industrial guillotine service

9. cover: once you have the final measurements of your text block you can start making the cover. this is essentially gluing cardboard, binders board, or plywood etc to a sheet of fabric. the fabric either needs to be bookcloth, or have some kind of non-porous back so the glue doesn't seep through. you can diy bookcloth from any fabric with tissue paper. then glue the decorate end pages to your cover to attach the textblock!

[crazycurly-77]

Like an old married couple - Chapter 5

The team had currently no case to investigate so they were stuck with paper work which meant that they were always around you and you and Gibbs were fighting your constant private battle. 

Despite of that you worked on user rights of a new crew member of the U.S.S. Stargazer. It was a difficult and annoying work, because this commander mailed and phoned you up to 5 times a day to get access to a very special part of the software you were supporting. 

You had told him multiple times that he needed to be authorized from the SECNAV personally to get this access, but it was to no avail. He refused to bring the needed allowance so you didn't granted the access in his user rights and therefore ignored him. This was getting on for a few days and you hoped that he get it one day. 

But nope, of course you had no such luck. 

One fine day after a nice lunch with the whole team - including Gibbs, can you imagine?! - a man with a highly decorated uniform marched into the bullpen, stayed in the middle of the room and barked in all of his arrogance 

“Who is Y/N Y/L/N?!!!” 

Not a sound was heard. You could have heard a needle clatter to the floor. Everyone was immediately at attention as if they were going to be attacked at any moment. 

You stood up, walked to the man and said

“That's me” 

“I am Commander Smith of the battleship Stargazer and seemingly you are the one who doesn't give me access to the joint venture software because I have not enough allowance? Are you dumb?”

“Oh yeah, that's why they let me do all the accesses and user rights in this software. They said I have to put up with assholes such as you” you said smirking widely. 

At these words his face turned to one of pure anger and hatred. “You will set up my user rights NOW!”

“No will do” you stood your ground. 

The situation was rapidly escalating. Jenny came down to see what's going on, Tony and Ziva moved to stand next to the commander and Gibbs and Tim were flanking you at both sides ready to strike if needed. 

And suddenly it was going all very fast. 

“You f…ing bitch!!!” the commander screamed and made a move to slap you across the face but you were faster and punched him in the ribs that he was instantly going down to the ground. 

All stood there shocked as you attempted to go to him and knock some sense into him, because he more than pissed you off. 

But Gibbs held you back. He was standing right before you and said very annoyed to him “leave this office to never come back. If you try to go near Y/L/N again I will shoot you. And now GO!!!”

Commander Smith struggled to get up and nearly ran out of the office. Slowly the tension was leaving you all and in this moment Jenny called you to her office. 

You gulped because you feared that she will send you home. Then you felt a hand gently touching your arm. Gibbs was standing beside you looking at you determined “I'm coming with you. There is no way I'm letting you down.”

A few minutes later you were both standing in Jenny's office in front of her desk. You didn't know what to expect, but you were grateful that you were not alone. Gibbs was still unwavering by your side his hand on your lower back for silent support. 

“What was that?” Jenny demanded to know and you told her the whole story which was confirmed by Gibbs who had noticed that this man was pestering you relentlessly. 

“Okay, I will call the SECNAV immediately and will demand that Commander Smith will be removed from service. His behavior towards you showed that he his not worthy of the uniform he is wearing. And now to you: violence is not often an acceptable option, but very well done, Y/L/N. I have a feeling that Gibbs is slowly rubbing off on you” she smirked. “Where did you learn this move and react so very fast?”

“I'm a pilot and have to train my reaction time constantly and furthermore I'm training Chinese martial arts as in kung fu for hand to hand combat and mental health as in meditation and tai chi.” 

“Very good, maybe we should enter some of that onto our common NCIS training” Jenny mused which caused you and Gibbs laughing. “Now that was enough agitation for today. You can go home to calm down, Y/N. We will see you tomorrow” Jenny said smiling.

According to this Gibbs and you left her office. As you two went back to your desks Gibbs pulled you into an empty room. He came very close to you and your heart started thumbing madly and it felt as if your head was burning up in flames. Before you could say anything he whispered “Well done. I'm very proud of you. Since you have free time the rest of the day we could drive to mine. I'll cook us steak and potatoes and we can exchange some of our knowledge. What do you think?”

The only thing you could do was nod “yes” and so you two packed your things, go to Gibbs’ truck and he drove to his home.

(To be continued...)

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Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

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[necroromantics]

🧺 — Laundry And Taxes

chapter 11. // christmas special // (masterlist)

AN: Helloo to all the readers of L&T, happy holidays to everyone and Merry Christmas for anyone who celebrates :] Heres my present to you 🔥

Standing on the station platform, tickets to Alabama in their hands, Natalie looked out at the approaching train. She leaned over to the boy waiting patiently next to her, and told him that she had never been on one before.

“Seems like we experience a lot of firsts together,” Toby grinned as Natalie punched his arm.

The girl sat on the window seat, resting her head in the palm of her hand as she looked out at the passing scenery. Toby laid back in his seat and closed his eyes, everything was in motion. The white winter landscape was complemented by tall, passing evergreen trees. Natalie watched the unspoiled morning skies mingle with the fluffs of clouds, and listened closely to the pleasant chatter of the two passengers seated behind her. By the sounds of it, they had only just met on that train, and were both headed south to see family. She glanced over at the boy resting quietly beside her and thought to herself how strange it is to meet someone you must’ve known lifetimes before.

The pair held fire in their eyes and their bags over their shoulders as they hurried down the streets sprawled with snow. Once they approached their destination of a tiny house decorated with an abundance of Christmas lights, Toby knocked heavily onto the front door. After waiting for a minute, the door creaked open, a familiar tall, blonde man wearing a Santa hat stood with a toothy grin on his face, welcoming the two inside. Brian gave Toby a hearty pat on the back as he led the boy to the living room, Natalie following silently close behind.

“Good to see you’re not in handcuffs yet, man.” Brian said

“Yeah, good to see you’re still growing out that awful mustache,” Toby teased back. In the living room, Tim sat in his recliner chair with an afternoon beer in his hand. He was sporting a red Christmas sweater that presented the words “Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal”. Beside him, there was a small Christmas tree perched atop the coffee table. Toby snickered to himself at the sight as he walked over and played with the plastic pine needles.

“Damn Tim, you really went all out this year huh.”

“Cut the shit,” Tim said, swatting the boy away.

Brian sat himself down onto the couch and grabbed the remote, turning on the television to whatever sports channel was on, letting it play quietly in the background. Taking a seat beside Brian, Toby looked over to Natalie who had been awkwardly lingering in the entrance, her arms crossed over her chest, her body pressed to the wall. The girl glanced over the room of men and furrowed her brow. She never liked proxies. Toby stared at the disinterested girl for a moment, watching her quietly reside in her own little world, before Brian spoke, catching the boy's attention.

“So you’re living in North Dakota now? How’s the weather up there treating you?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s alright. I’m used to all the snow from back home in Colorado, so it’s not too bad.”

As the two men continued to exchange their small talk, filling in the silence that hung over the room, Tim took another sip of his beer.

“You still hellbent on getting back to the old world?” Tim chimed in, causing Toby to look over with an irritated glare.

“So what if I am? Whats it matter to you?”

“Just wondering,” Tim lifted his bottle to his lips once again as he turned his head to look over at the football game. There was a long pause of tense silence for a moment, Toby’s gaze still directed at the man in a trained glare.

“Better to just leave all that shit behind anyways, right?” Brian said, leaning over to Toby to recenter the boy's attention over to their friendly conversation.

“Sure,” Toby muttered, looking down towards his feet for a moment, “What’re you up to now anyways?”

“Just working, trying to save enough up to get back to school, you know?” Brian groaned as he threw his hands back, stretching the tension out of his tired body.

“Yeah? Where do you work?”

“If I tell you that, I’m gonna have to kill you,” The man teased with a grin, to which Toby rolled his eyes in playful annoyance. Natalie watched from a distance as the men caught up with each other's lives, as if there had been no brutality between them. She watched as Toby joked with his colleagues; ones who had beaten him bloody many times before. She watched as Toby’s hands reached for the remote to switch on a channel that played Christmas music; hands that have killed countless people. She watched as Tim eased himself into the casual chatter, throwing in a sarcastic comment or two, bickering with the boy sitting across from him. They were a lively bunch, and as Natalie leaned back against the wall, her indifferent expression subtly hinting disdain, she wondered what gave them the right to act as if nothing had happened. The girl was no saint, and she knew this to be true, she was cruel and vicious, a killer, but she would never find herself sitting amongst men like these, pretending as if blood didn’t drip from her mouth from all the throats she had ripped out. They were rotten and vile, and it seemed her best friend was the worst of the worst.

A soft knock to the front door put a quick stop to the conversation, and Brian walked over to the entrance, past the girl who hadn’t said a word since she arrived. Toby’s head peered up, listening closely to the sound of Brian inviting somebody in. He wasn’t told of anyone else joining them that Christmas evening. As the stranger entered the living room, both Natalie and Toby’s eyes widened. The familiar man held his hands in the pockets of his dark gray sweater, his dark eyes glancing around at the three lounging around the room. Jack smiled awkwardly at Natalie as she shamelessly stared at his newly human appearance, her gaze meeting his. Toby, on the other hand, had been staring out of discomfort. The last conversation he had with Jack had been a fight months ago back in Mississippi. He knew Jack was never one to hold a grudge, yet the boy couldn’t help but feel a weird sense of unease when the man sat down next to him.

“Good to see you again.” Jack smiled.

“Yeah.”

Brian entered back into the room with a case of beer, breaking through the stiff atmosphere, and sitting on the couch next to the two others. He pulled out a bottle and handed it over to Tim, who had already drunk through his previous one, and then handed another to Jack, who shook his head.

“I’m not drinking tonight,” he declined.

“Suit yourself,” Brian exclaimed, popping off the cap and taking a sip. The four men talked amongst themselves as Natalie listened in, drumming her fingers along to the beat of the holiday tunes quietly playing from the TV. She couldn’t help but glance over at the clock, counting down the minutes until she could be free from that dreadful place. When she initially agreed to come to Alabama with Toby, she hadn’t considered how out of place she would feel. Tim never liked her much, Brian and her never really talked. They had both deemed her a weak point for Toby back in the old world — something in the way. There was always the expectation that she would turn on him, sell him out, be his downfall. And in a way, it was true. Whenever Brian snuck a glance over at the lingering girl, he noticed she would always be looking at Toby.

Once the clock had struck 5pm, Tim pulled himself out of his seat, tapping Jack to follow him into the kitchen.

“You too, Toby. I ain’t preparing dinner all by myself.” Toby groaned as he stood up, shuffling irritatedly behind the two men. As he passed by Natalie, he nudged into her with a sore smile, to which she playfully hit him back. The two would laugh at nonsense together as though it made perfect sense, bumped into each other as though it was an embrace. There was an awkward tenderness between the youths who had never been loved, and had to figure something out. Natalie had the tendency to lie through her gritted teeth. Not intentionally by any means, but she deluded herself for so long, so desperately, she was nearly a master at the art of self-deception. Brian had noticed this feat, and on that lively Christmas evening, begun to pester the girl.

“There’s plenty of seats, you don’t need to keep standing around you know,” he called out to the girl who only raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded his head towards the empty chair across from him, and Natalie huffed with annoyance at the bothersome man as she strolled over to take her seat. Brian sat with his bottle in his hands, the sound of bickering coming from the kitchen filled the open air.

“You and Toby live together now, huh?”

“I guess,” Natalie said with a stern look, crossing her arms as she leaned back into her chair, staring at Brian as if she were in an interrogation. The man only smiled back at her, his Santa hat draped over his head.

“Good to hear he’s found someone who tolerates his bullshit,” Brian said as he reached into his case of booze, “Want a beer?”

Natalie shrugged her shoulders in agreement as the man pulled out a bottle.

“Just remember, you can’t save that kid.”

“Great. I never wanted to. I wouldn’t know how to anyways.”

“So, do you love him?”

“What’s it matter to you?” she glared at the man.

“You got a fire between you two,” Brian continued to tease as he handed the drink over to the girl, who snatched it from his hand.

“Then I guess I should ask Santa for an extinguisher this Christmas.”

The man grinned at the witty reply, chuckling to himself as he glanced over towards the boy angrily storming into the living room, ranting to himself. Toby huffed as he collapsed into the couch beside Brian, sinking into himself.

“Toby, get your ass back in here,” Tim shouted out from the kitchen.

“Go fuck yourself,” the boy shouted back. Brian grimaced awkwardly as he took his leave, taking one last look at the girl who had once again been staring at Toby, before making his way into the kitchen to help with dinner.

Once Brian was out of the room, Natalie switched over to sit herself down beside Toby. She nudged her shoulder into him as the boy looked back at her.

“Stop being so cranky Toby, it’s Christmas.” The girl spoke as her eyes met with the boys who stared back at her. Toby let out a deep sigh and leaned into the girls side. He was warm, she was cold. The smell of the turkey and stuffing breezed past the two as Brian waltzed into the room once again, this time to alert them that dinner was ready, and to come get their plates.

The group, with food piled onto their plates, sat together as they made up for all of the lost time. On that drunken Christmas night, with loud chatter and laughter filling the fireplace warmed air, everything was fine. Bloodshed was past, sickness had wilted away. As five human beings sat victorious in that livingroom, ridden with battle of another world, their festive cheer only confirmed the triumph of man. The war was over, and they had earned their evening.

Toby sipped his booze as he watched Tim stumble over to his seat, sharing a tale of a time he had lied his way out of a speeding ticket.

“You’re a great actor, you should star in a film,” Brian teased with a grin.

“I will strangle you,” Tim threatened.

Natalie felt a hand shift over onto her own, and glanced down to see Toby’s fingers interlocking with hers mindlessly. She thought well of him. Even when he drank, she thought he was a good boy. The girl squeezed his hand back, and drifted away from the jokes and festivities to lose herself in her thoughts. He had already made plans to head back to Colorado to spend Christmas morning with his family, leaving Natalie to catch the midnight train back up north.

Once the late night tiredness had washed over the group, Toby found himself arguing with Tim, who alongside Brian, had too many drinks to drive the boy to his destination.

“How am I supposed to wait until morning? You agreed you’d drive me tonight.”

“I could drive, I haven’t been drinking.” Jack spoke out, stepping between the argument. Toby looked over at the man with his offer, and scrunched his brow with reluctance, before ultimately giving in and agreeing to the new arraignment.

Toby stood at the door with his backpack over his shoulder, saying his goodbyes to the drunken Brian and Tim as he waited for Jack to gather his things. Natalie hung around by the boy's side without a word as she waited for him to finish chatting with his colleagues. As Jack slipped on his shoes, and opened the door to head for the car, Natalie threw in a quick goodbye to her friend, and snuck away back into the livingroom as she waited for her train back home, which was going to arrive in two hours.

Tim and Brian chatted with each other as they sobered up, and cleaned the dishes in the kitchen, leaving Natalie alone in the other room after Toby and Jack had left. She leaned back into her chair as she stared mindlessly at the fireplace, watching the flames dance and flicker. In her dreams, her house is always on fire. She couldn’t bring herself to let go of the violence, even as it burnt holes into her. The dead girl with nothing to lose, the horrible girl who can’t escape. A loud ringing from her cellphone snapped the girl out of her daze, bringing her attention to the number presenting itself onto the screen as she flipped it open. It wasn’t one she recognized, but as she hesitantly answered the call, she knew the voice on the other end well.

“Merry Christmas, Natalie.” The woman spoke roughly. She sounded tired, a bit irritated.

“Mom?”

“Just thought I’d call and wish you a good Christmas. But if you don’t want to talk to me, just say so,” The woman snapped. Natalie’s heart began to beat like a snare drum in her chest. She hadn’t heard her mothers voice in years, it made her sick to her stomach.

“Why would you bother calling me?” The girl asked quietly, and harshly.

“I guess it’s a crime now to want to talk to you since you left home. You know damn well you’re all I have left, so show some respect to your mother.”

Natalie scoffed. It seemed she hadn’t changed one bit.

“Sure, whatever, Merry fuckin’ Christmas.” She slammed her flipphone shut as she ended the call abruptly, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt a flurry of rage and shock. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, suffocating, choking her. Natalie quickly stood to her feet as she rushed out the front door to get some fresh air.

The outside was quiet as she sat herself on the front door step. It was late into the night, and everything was still. Natalie blinked back the sting of tears rising to her eyes as she took a deep breath in of the frost and mildew. She knew something bad had happened, she tried her best not to think about it. The Christmas lights hanging off of the edge of the rooftop reflected off of the white ground, sparkling. Suddenly, it began to snow. The girl watched as the snowflakes danced gently down through the night sky, landing on the streets and in her hair. Natalie felt warmth fall down her icy cheeks as she surrendered to her tears, quietly sobbing to herself as she looked out into the dark. Despite everything, the world was still so beautiful.

Toby stared quietly out from the passenger seat window, watching the snow as it fell. Jack remained silent as he drove down the highways of Alabama, keeping his eyes straight and his hands firm on the steering wheel. The boy sniffled to himself once in a while, coming down off of his evening buzz. He had always hoped for a mother, a father, something bigger than himself to tell him who to become. But as he stared out of the window into the dark abyss of the night, wartorn and battered, the world seemed so empty.

A few miles into the drive, Jack pulled the truck into a gas station parking lot, announcing that he was grabbing himself a cup of coffee, and that Toby should take a bathroom break before they continued with their long drive to Colorado. The bell jingled throughout the store which was nearly completely empty as the two men entered, Jack heading towards the coffee machine, and Toby to the toilets. The boy pushed past the door and quickly noticed all of the vandalism scribbled onto the walls, like a page from a book had been torn apart and plastered everywhere. His hand ran across some printing on a bathroom stall and read over a confession of sorts a passerby had left in a place they must’ve known they’d never return to. He read the admissions of guilt spread across the room, as if God had been listening. Memories of the old world rushed into his mind like the Great Flood, and he thought about all of the times he would wake up in places like these, thrashed and wrecked, with no recollection of what had happened, or the times he’d find himself leaning over the dirty sinks coughing up blood. His lungs must’ve been rotting. He never knew of anything that didn’t hurt.

Toby spent no more time in that bathroom as he rinsed his hands and quickly left back outside to the truck. Jack quietly placed his coffee into the cup holder next to him and continued to drive down the dark highway, into the night. The silence remained still between the two men, only the occasional car passed by them. Toby tapped his fingers against his knee as he thought to himself.

“You’re living in Alabama now?” He awkwardly asked, avoiding eye contact as Jack glanced over to the boy.

“Yeah, I am. I moved there mid-November. I thought it’d be easier for me if I was around people I knew. Like dipping my toe in the water,” Jack explained. He had turned away from his college room with his head down, running to Latin texts in the depths of an isolated forest. Jack started to find himself seeing the dead through the midst of the maple and oak trees which dangled hanged men from its branches. It seemed that he had no choice but to face what he had done, and find himself in the bustling streets of humanity once again. He wrote letters to his mother explaining a false reasoning for why he had left his education. He wrote them praying. Every letter he received back he collected as punishment for the sins he had committed. Jack kept them in a box under his bed.

“And you? Has North Dakota been keeping you busy?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Toby replied, fiddling with his thumbs as he kept his gaze down to his feet, “I actually started a small lumbering business for myself. Chopping wood and stuff.”

“That’s great to hear. Good for you,” Jack smiled.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Of course.”

“I mean, thanks for helping me out. Always putting up with my bullshit,” Toby eyed his shoes, he didn’t want to see the satisfied look on Jack’s face. He didn’t want to think about how smug he must’ve been after hearing those words fall from the troubled boy's mouth.

“You’re not as difficult as you think you are, Toby. I’m not the only one who puts up with you.”

Toby looked over at the man driving, and shook his head. He remained untended to, like an overgrown tombstone, sick with decay. It was as if, from the moment he was born, that boy had never needed anybody else. He never asked for help, or reached out for support.

“I’m on my own. Always have been.”

“What about Natalie?”

“What about her?”

“She’s always been by your side, hasn’t she?”

The boy stayed silent for a moment. Toby didn’t know how to tell Jack that she, too, had left him to dig his own grave many times. She, too, loathed him. It didn’t matter, he thought, he didn’t need her, or anyone, anyways.

“Everyone who tries to stomach me eventually chokes me back up, Jack. Nat isn’t an exception.” There was a childlike loneliness in Toby’s voice as he spoke. One that made Jack quickly come to the unfortunate understanding that Toby wasn’t a soldier, or a war hero, he was just a boy. And the burden of always being the one who grits his teeth and fights an old man's battle must be far too heavy for a boy to carry.

“Does that bother you?” Jack asked. Toby shrugged his tired shoulders.

“After you’ve done and seen all the shit I have, nothing really bothers you anymore.”

Jack looked over at the other once more, a golden boy made to conquer, his eyes were desensitized and dark. Toby was entirely indifferent to himself and the world around him. He knew nothing of the time that had passed him, only that somewhere, at some point, there was a war being fought, and he was now far from the battlefield. That boy had long since lost his innocence, and his homesickness lasted forever.

“Do you actually feel bad for the things you’ve done?” Toby spoke again.

“You know, Toby, my guilt doesn’t mean anything. Apologizing while I killed someone doesn’t make me any different than someone who didn’t. I still took somebody’s life, I still sinned.”

“When I killed my dad…” Toby’s voice trailed off for a moment, “It was the happiest I had ever been, like all of those years of fear finally amounted to something. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. I'd rather have all of that suffering make me into a monster than for it to be for nothing at all."

“You don’t think you had any other choice?”

“It had to be done. Sometimes things just have to be done.”

“I understand,” Jack replied softly as he continued to drive.

“Hopefully God understands,” Toby said quietly to himself, turning his head to look out of the window once again. He tried to describe something unfathomable. Fate, the God neither of them believed in, whatever explained it.

"I guess just knowing that somewhere, my dad is still out there... I can't help but miss him. And I don't know why." The boy confessed, staring up at the stars in the night sky as they shined down brightly on the two men. There was a sense of knowing that he would be carrying that rage with him until he died.

“Do you love your father?”

“No, I hate him more than anything. If you met him you’d understand. Why else do you think I do the things I do?” Toby sat up straight in his seat, chuckling sorrowfully to himself, “I became the exact thing I was so fucking scared of growing up. And nothings going to fuck with me ever again.”

“You’ve suffered enough, Toby. I know you have a lot to carry, you did what you had to do to survive, I get it, but you can put it all down and still be safe.”

“I know that, I’m not stupid. I know I’ll have to listen to everyone someday and just let all of this anger go. But it’s like it clings to me like some scared little kid and begs me not to. And I’m not going to betray myself like that.”

“It takes some time, but there’s always the option to make peace with the past whenever you’re ready. You just need to stop looking in the wrong places for redemption,” Jack said.

“Yeah you’re right, time for me to become Mr. Goody Good,” Toby joked back.

“It really is that simple, you know. One day, wake up and decide to be kinder to yourself, and maybe others. You have been through too much to treat yourself so badly.”

The boy stayed silent, the quiet ambience of the drive filled the air. Toby hadn’t realized that he had been doing nothing but torturing himself the entire time. He didn’t know how to treat himself with anything but violence.

“I’m proud of you, Toby.”

The words Jack spoke drilled holes into the boy's burning chest. Toby looked over at the man who was staring ahead, keeping his eyes on the road, before turning his gaze back down to his hands. He had to do the impossible when he left it all behind, but he was alive, and that was his start. The boy was given no other choice, he needed to make his way in that world, it was just another thing that had to be done. He had always assumed that everybody around him looked at him through his fathers eyes, full of hatred and disgust. Toby assumed that his bitterness had left him intolerable, and it had never occurred to him that there would ever be people in his life who would tolerate him anyways. The praise of his violence in the past was replaced with a soft ‘I love you regardless’ when Toby bared his teeth. He then thought to himself how awful it was that his happiness hurt too.

Soon, the sun began to rise over the western landscape and Jack pulled up to Toby’s mothers house. They sat silently for a moment in the truck before Toby spoke.

“Thanks for everything, Jack. You’re a good guy.”

“You too, Toby.”

The boy dragged his tired body to the front step of his childhood home and waved as Jack drove off back to Alabama. It was late into the day, and Toby hadn’t told his mother he was coming over for Christmas. He thought for a moment about all of the time he had spent fighting against the world, and he had slowly come to the understanding that soldiers either die, or they return home from the war. As his luck would have it, on that snowy Christmas afternoon, it seemed he had made it out of the combat zone alive, regardless of what he had done. And now, it was his job to find peace for himself despite it all.

When he entered through the front door with a spare key his mother had given him, he glanced over the empty house, a tall Christmas tree standing in the livingroom. Toby called out for his mom, and sister, only to find that nobody was home. He turned around to look at the driveway, and noticed both of their cars were still there. Closing the door behind him, a sense of dread building, the boy quietly made his way through the house, cautiously examining every room. In his mothers room, he noticed a suitcase on the floor which had been half-packed. Toby bent down to look through the items packed away, before jerking his head up as he heard the sound of the front door opening.

Toby slowly, and silently, walked towards the entrance of the house, lifting his hands up as he prepared himself for a fight. A loud scream filled the house as Lyra jumped at the sight of the intruding boy, putting her hand over her chest as she realized who it was.

“Jesus, Toby! What's wrong with you!” She yelled as Connie quickly rushed in after her screaming daughter, only to relax as she saw her son awkwardly apologizing.

Connie rushed up to Toby, hugging him tightly and laying a kiss on his cheek. Lyra rolled her eyes and shook off the lingering adrenaline, walking up to give her little brother a hug as well. His mother explained that they had planned a surprise trip to North Dakota to visit him, but he had gotten to them first.

“We were down the street visiting Mr. Mulner and his wife. You remember Caroline. She had a fall a couple of weeks ago. Everyone in the neighborhood has been bringing them giftsfor Christmas," Connie explained to the boy the exciting happenings in her life as Lyra rinsed off an empty cookie tray in the kitchen sink.

“Wow, spreading Christmas cheer. How’d you get Grinch over there to come with you?” Toby teased, nodding his head over to his sister who only rolled her eyes.

“So, are you going to be leaving again?” Connie asked with concern in her eyes. She could never keep tabs on him anymore.

“Yeah, eventually. I’ve been living up North with that girl I was telling you about and-”

“You’re living with a girl?” Lyra interrupted with shock, having been listening from the kitchen.

“Shut up Lyra, don’t act surprised,” Toby argued back.

“Don’t fight on Christmas you two,” their mother scolded with a sigh as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Toby spent the day with his family, helping his mother cook dinner, and listening to Lyra’s latest gossip. The sun seemed to set as quickly as it rose, and the evening draped its darkness over the sky once more. After dinner, Connie went to bed early, and Toby sat in the livingroom with Lyra as they bickered over which Christmas movie to watch.

“Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie you dork,” she said.

“Fuck you, Die Hard is absolutely a Christmas movie.”

The warm glow of the lights that wrapped around the Christmas tree illuminated the livingroom as Lyra groaned and turned on Die Hard. Toby thought about all of the things he had talked about with Jack, and wondered if Natalie had gotten home safely yet. He thought about how strange that the place he thought of to be his home was no longer the place he sat in, but instead a small, old farmhouse in North Dakota. So many things had changed in such a short amount of time, and for once, as he sat by his sister under the roof he grew up in, he felt as if he could make something more for himself. For once, he felt a sort of happiness that didn’t hurt.

“Merry Christmas Toby,” Lyra whispered over to her brother, reeling him back in from his thoughts as he looked at her with a smile.

“Merry Christmas.”

[sagesolsticewrites]

I would love a Christmas #1 with 1 and 6 again with Daisy Butler.

Scenario 1: Decorating the tree

Dialogues:

1.) "Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe.”

6.) “Do you want to put the star on the top of the tree?”

Oof, sorry I’ve been away for so long y’all! I’m gonna try to get back to writing some more while I’m home for the holidays. Thank you so much for this request! Here’s some more Daisy 🥰 (and you can read my other drabbles featuring her here!)

“Babe!” You heard Austin call from his place by the door of the storage closet, underneath a very conspicuous cluster of mistletoe, “I found the last box of decorations but I might need your help getting them down!”

“Aus!” You called back, knowing this trick that he’s already tried several times this weekend, “You’ve already gotten me like five times this morning, stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe!”

You hear Austin trudge back down the hall to the living room with a defeated sigh, and he enters with a playful roll of his eyes at the amused smile on your face, “Can’t a man just kiss his wife under the mistletoe once in a while?”

“Not while this wife is trying to decorate and keep an eye on our six year old,” comes your amused answer as you attempt to untangle the garland in your hands, your eyes flicking between Austin in front of you and Daisy coloring at the kitchen table nearby. Your voice lowers to a teasing whisper as you continue, “But I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

He smiles and kneels down to give you a peck, gently extracting the green tangle from your hands, “I got this, you check on little miss artist over there.”

You smile gratefully at him as you stand, brushing stray plastic “needles” off your sweater as you make your way to your daughter’s place at the kitchen table. Her little tongue is poking out, her tiny brow furrowed in concentration on what’s clearly an important project.

“Whatcha working on, sweet girl?” You ask, sliding into the seat next to her.

She perks up at the sound of your voice, a smile spreading across her face.

“‘M drawing snowflakes to hang on the tree!” She exclaims, blue eyes shining with pride as she shows you the various blue scribbles on white paper. “We did some in school to decorate the class tree, it looks like ours—” she points at the tree standing in your living room “— but smaller, ‘n’ it looked pretty, ‘n’ I wanted to help make our tree pretty too!”

Daisy ends her excited ramble with a proud smile, and you can’t help but return her grin. “These look great, sweetheart! Do you want me to help you find a way to hang these up?”

She nods, “At school Ms. M used string, but I dunno where to get it.” A frown threatens to overtake her smile at the prospect of not being able to hang up her project, but you’re quick to assure her.

“Don’t worry, we actually have something better than string.”

Several minutes later, your daughter is watching, entranced, as you carefully punch a hole in each of her drawings and twist a paper clip to act as a makeshift hook for the tree. She even helps hang some up herself, and you honestly think you might burst from happiness at the joy on her face when she sees her drawings next to the other ornaments.

“Those snowflakes look great, Daisy girl,” Austin praises with a hug. “There’s just one thing missing…”

He starts to open up a very familiar box, meeting your eyes with a grin as Daisy furrows her brow in confusion.

She lights up a second later, though, clapping her hands excitedly as Austin reveals the star tree topper.

“What do you think, Daisy? Do you wanna help put the star on top of the tree?”

Your daughter lets out a soft gasp. “I get to help?”

You nod, humming an affirmative. “Daddy’s gonna lift you to the top of the tree, and we’ll put it on together.”

The joy on her face and the excited giggles that escape her are more than enough reward for the complications that come with trying to get a six year old to carefully put something on top of a tree. The star might be a little crooked, but the pride on Daisy’s face whenever she sees it keeps you from fixing it, and you know that that’s a tradition that you and Austin are going to keep up for as long as you can.

More drabble prompts here!

[vonabstracts]

i want to do another punch needle commission 🫣👉🏽👈🏽…. any takers??

here’s some examples of my work

if you’re interested, message me ❤️

[chefbeepo]

The tribes and their arts! Pt 2

Skywings-

-music usually is made with pipes, flutes, wind chimes and other wind instruments. It's typically loose, unorganized music, used as background noise at parties and celebrations. But it can be lively and exciting when need be, fast paced and wild.

-Blanket and fabrics are made with animal furs and plant fibers and is a high demand art. They also make coats or capes to withstand the cold, and can be knitted or woven. Sometimes they're made via needle punching.

-stained glass is typically an art reserved for the noble, as sand is hard to come by in the mountains. But it's a very respected art, used in Royal palaces and noble homes. Usually they depict Royal Family members or notable persons of the past.

-stone and marble sculpting is a common art, as well as wood whittling. Some are custom made for specific individuals or in the likeness of a noble person. But often ornaments, toys, decor and furniture are made in this way.

-cooking is common, though not as delectable as mudwing food. Meat is mostly charred, cooked by the person about to eat it with their breath. Plants are rarely consumed, but fungi and mushrooms are often utilized, as they are common in the forests.

-poetry is a popular art form, often accompanied by visual arts and drawings. During war time, many poetry pieces were written as propaganda, as demanded by Queen Scarlet. Now, they're less patriotic, and a bit more questioning of their role in the war.

-dancing is popular, often done with wing waving and tail-whipping. It tends to look more like battle techniques than dancing, but is full of the same enthusiasm and passion as any other dance.

-metal working isn't typically seen as an art, as it's often done by lower class citizens. But it's a vital part of their society, and metal work is often used in many forms of art, including as frames for paintings or architectural details.

[otuker]

Punch Needle Pattern, Halloween Punch Needle Template, Digital Download, Punch Needle Coaster Pattern, Punch PDF Pattern, Mug Rug Pattern