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#shelf sitter
magicalshopping · 8 months
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♡ Rude Alien Statue by John Bernard & Co ♡
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thathalloweenyfeeling · 6 months
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Halloween Shelf Sitters, Michaels 2023
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evezbeadz-blog · 9 months
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junkologistsgoods · 2 years
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rileyjanehomedecor · 2 years
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possessedpierrot · 1 year
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they watch over me while i sleep <3
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moodivy · 9 months
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sent my friend a photo of my clown painting (/most of my clown collection) and my phone died oops
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chapuyes · 3 months
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Making disgusting noises in the bathroom with this bag balm rn
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lifeasaleowife · 3 months
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Wood Bead Heart Shelf Sitter
Don't miss this beautiful farmhouse style shelf sitter Valentine's Day heart decoration that has a high-end look but costs $5 to make!
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elfo-clover · 2 years
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yoitsjay · 3 months
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Dad or Daddy
Pairings: Ghost x gn!reader
Summary: laswell bragged about how great of a babysitter you were. So Ghost just had to find out for himself.
Warnings: sexual innuendo, but no action. Cliffhanger
Word count: 1,639
Render credit: @ave661
You had gained a reputation originally by being a very good babysitter for laswell and her wifes adopted baby, you were a trusted friend of Kate's wife, hence the immediate job, and then Kate started to brag about how you were the only one who seemed to put her baby to a dead sleep, your voice and the warmth that radiated off of you was alluring, and it soothed a lot of people, babies included.
One day you were relaxing at home, you already had a plan to make your way to a local bar that night and had told kate and her wife all about it and that it was a new bar and grill that some other friends of yours had been raving about. Little did you know she would be giving a certain someone your location, and you would end up having a very eventful night.
So when that evening drew in, and you were dressed and ready in a cute ish outfit you put together to perhaps attract some attention to yourself. Maybe you would get lucky… Can't help but dream really. Regardless, you take a cab to the bar, planning on having a few drinks. It doesn't take long to get to the bar either since the location wasn't far from your home, however you did not want to walk home drunk, since something could happen and you wouldn't be in the right mind to defend yourself.
Upon entering the bar and grill, the strong aroma of savory food and alcohol fills your nose, however the smell is anything but repulsive. There's a small dance floor placed in front of a DJ booth on the right side of the room, directly in front of you is the large bar with a huge shelf filled with bottles of different alcohols and mixers. and on the left side of the room are booths and tables to seat at if you're there to grab dinner with a friend, family or other. You were hungry, but since you were alone you just walked straight up to the bar.
You order one drink and a water to start, switching from alcohol and then to water, just to make the night last a little bit longer, you had no plans till monday and it was saturday. After the two drinks you ordered a couple appetizers, munching on some potato wedges when you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder, it was light, but you could feel warmth from the hand that poked you, and you turned your head, resting a hand atop your full waterglass, just in case. "Hi?" You asked out in a questioning tone.
The man who had tapped you was tall, and muscular and he was wearing a black hoodie and jeans, however the most unusual thing was that he was wearing a skull ski mask that obscured his face. "Are you Y/N?" he asked, and you raised an eyebrow before speaking. "I am, who are you?" You asked him, and the man sits down beside you on the free bar stool to your right. "Im Ghost- Laswell told me a lot about you, you're a close friend according to her? and I hear that you're one damn good babysitter." He explained, and your previous defense dropped when he mentioned Kate and being a good babysitter.
Upon hearing that a soft chuckle escapes your lips and you nod. "Yeah thats right… you must be the silent killer from the 141 if i remember correct. she doesnt talk a lot about her work around me, but i do know that The Ghost is one mysterious guy… so how can i help you?" You asked, and watched as the large man rubbed his knee slightly. "Well- i have a 5 month old daughter, and i can never find a decent babysitter during the months im on deployment, i dont get a lot of breaks so its hard to see her, and her mom isnt in the picture." he explained, and you nod to show him that you were following along.
He continued a moment later. "All the other sitters i've hired have flaked after a month, or less than that, and well, Laswell says she is going to be home a lot more often which means you'll probably need work… What im asking is if you'd like to babysit for me? you would stay in my house, semi-permanently unless im home for breaks and whatnot, you'll be paid 100 per hour and all of your grocery expenses will be payed for too, and of course you can use any streaming service, my room- all of it. i just really need a reliable babysitter who doesn't flake out on me."He explained, somewhat breathless at the end of his request. You stare at him for a few moments, a smile slowly growing across your lips.
"Take me out to a nice dinner, and I'll be your permanent babysitter for 75 an hour." You stated, extending his hand out to him to shake. You didn't know if he was smiling or not, but the crease by his eyes told you that he was relieved, and just like that you shook hands and the deal was made. The dinner happened the next weekend, but Ghost took you to one of your favorite restaurants in town which just so happened to be your favorite as well. You talked and got to know him a bit, his interests and what life was like in the special forces. You couldn't help but admit to yourself that even with the mask you could tell this man was attractive, with the way he spoke and carried himself, he knew he was good looking too.
On monday he introduced you to his five month old, and she was an absolute sweetheart of a baby. He had a few more weeks left of his break so in that time he got you used to his apartment. It was a two bedroom, one bath apartment, a perfect size for him and his kid, and maybe a lover if he chose to have one. The apartment was simple though, one plant in the living room that was withering away, most likely a house present. And for the most part the apartment was clean, save for some scattered kids toys on the ground.
And in a blink the weeks had passed and You were back at simons apartment, this time with a suitcase full of clothes, and he was getting ready to leave, you said your goodbyes and off he went, and you stayed, living in his apartment for months. you took young charlotte everywhere with you too, back to your apartment on some occasions to clean up some dust, your friend was house sitting for you so it did not get too bad.
You and Ghost face timed every night so he could talk to his daughter, though of course she couldn't talk back, but she knew that the man in the skull mask was her father and she was filled with glee whenever she got to see him through the screen. On top of that you started having your own little chats with ghosts after Charlotte was put to bed. At first it started with little flirty messages, and then heart emojis or kissy faces, and Ghost wasn't shy with his responses with flirty remarks, though he didn't use emojis yet. You weren't a rookie so he didn't have to be professional with you it seemed.
One night seemed to be a gamechanger for you and him however, you had once again put Charlotte to bed and she was out like a light, no sound could wake her. You had a drink or two, and decided to get out of your uncomfortable clothes, making his way into his bed where you had made your home after the first three months of staying in his home, and still as naked as the day you were born you took one of the blankets off Ghosts bed, posing in front of the body length mirror in his bedroom, and with the blanket hanging from your lower torso, hiding the important its, you posed and took a scandalous picture of yourself, with a sultry expression on your face.
Immediately you hopped into his bed, and sent it to him, a grin spread across your lips as you sent him the picture without a word before or after. You shut your phone off, not wanting to see him type out a response to take a picture. However you were growing concerned when more than five minutes passed without a response, so you checked yours and Ghosts chat, seeing that he had read it.
Just as you checked the chat, you saw him begin to type out a response, and your face grew red in anticipation, and his reply finally appeared.
"You've been teasing me for months darlin' and now this? Buckle up sweetheart because when I get home you're not leaving my bed for weeks."
His response had your eyes blown wide open, and you could feel yourself get aroused at the thought of him doing.. everything to you. You quickly messaged him back however. wanting to tease him just a bit more.
"Oh shit- That picture wasn't meant for you ghost, it was for another cute guy- don't take things the wrong way, i'm just your babysitter,"
You sent that reply quickly, and immediately he was typing again, only sending you a red angry face.
"I'm taking the next plane back home. you and i will be having a long… chat… when i get back. cuz i know damn well you ain't talking to nobody but me."
And that's when you knew that you were smitten with your little kids dad, absolutely smitten.
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sosuperawesome · 1 year
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Wooden Shelf Sitters // Fairview Craft Studio
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evezbeadz-blog · 2 years
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Check out Hong Kong Vintage Carnival Prize Lucite Cat Figurine Collectible Toy EvezBeadz on Mercari!
Check out what I'm selling on Mercari. Hong Kong Vintage Carnival Prize Lucite Cat Figurine Collectible Toy EvezBeadz
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junkologistsgoods · 1 year
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maelialuv · 2 years
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Can you do a one shot of Steve x fem! reader are shopping in a supermarket late at night and they’re arguing about what cookies to get and it’s just fluffff
Thank youuu xx
absolutely obsessed w this idea!! I LOVE Steve fluff. hope u enjoy! ty for the request!!
Supermarket Sweep - Steve Harrington
Summary: a late night shopping trip with Steve leads to late night confessions.
Warnings: a bit of angst! mostly fluff! slightly suggestive moments.
Word Count: 2.3K
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Had you known that spending more time with a gang of pre-teens would take up so much of your free time, you would have stopped being an honorary baby sitter long before they began requesting food supply runs late into the night.
If you'd known that you'd spend your Friday evening inside Bradley's Big Buy with Steve Harrington, you most certainly would have reconsidered your choice of clothing. Untamed hair, a raggedy pair of beat up sneakers and a much too small tank top - essentially a pyjama shirt- for the blaring cool of the stores air conditioning, you stood motionless next to Steve. He was talking to you, had been for several minutes. It was white noise to your ears.
"...and Max wanted Chips Ahoy, but Dustin says they're too hard on his teeth and Will doesn't like the way they break apart when he-" Steve caught on to your blank stare. You had been looking at a pack of Oreos on the shelf for a long, glassy eyed moment. "Are you listening to me?"
You snapped out of your trance. "What? Sorry, Mike said he wanted some Oreos but I can't remember which ones."
"Oh, double stuffed." Steve said, completely sure. He knew his little nuggets like the back of his hand by now. Mike liked double stuffed Oreos, Max liked Chips Ahoy. Will preferred Milanos, Dustin underlined his Nilla Wafers four times on the list, and Lucas's usual ask of original Goldfish Crackers was so easy to remember it was impossible to get wrong. El was happy with anything.
You grabbed the double stuffed cookies and tossed them into the cart, almost over flowing with the cans of Pringles and the sodas the kids had asked for - the campaign Will and Mike had planned was extravagant, and called for a years worth of junk to keep them going.
How the kids could sit in the Wheeler's basement for hours on end in the peak of Hawkins summer was beyond you. You'd spent just about half of your time at the local pool, and by the evening when it had closed you'd migrated to the heated pool in the back yard of the Harrington residence, swimming and lounging until the sun set and Steve drove you home. The last few weeks, however, you had started hanging out with Steve alone.
It had been Robin that had introduced you to the boy, but you had known Steve 'The Hair' Harrington for years. He was one year above you in school, and how could anyone not know King Steve? You'd witnessed the rise and fall of his relationship with Nancy, and seen him mellow and relax as his focus switched from the basketball team to a team of middle schoolers. Robin had introduced you officially when they started working together at Scoops last summer. Steve recognised you from somewhere - "Did you and I fool around at Stacy's party in the fall?"- and you never confirmed it for him.
It didn't matter too much to him where he knew you from. Now you were his friend, and that was great. Friends.
The last two weeks, you and Steve had seen each other every day. Driving the kids around when the sun was up, chilling by his pool or watching movies in his living room when it was down. You'd been feeling...different. You'd seen Steve without a shirt before - victories of the Hawkins High Tigers being expressed with the swinging of a vest into a crowd of fawning girls. A year ago you would have rolled your eyes at yourself. More often than not over the last few days you had been the one gawking. The way droplets of water lingering on his toned stomach would light up with the reflection of the pool lights. The way he would smooth his hair back. You felt ridiculous, like a school girl writing all over her note book with glitter hearts.
It was like a switch had flicked for you, and suddenly it wasn't Steve, it was Steve. You'd repress it , and try your best to hide it. And then he'd pull a typical Steve stunt.
He tossed his sweatshirt at you, breaking you from another self indulgent trance filled with ice cold lemonade and hot summer nights. "Here," he said, lilt in his voice and smirk on his face, "you look cold." Did you? Sure, the store's air con was a bit much for well after midnight, the scorching heat long gone with the sun, but you weren't cold.
"What?"
He laughed to himself before the smirk returned. "You look cold." This time, his eyes darted down for a few lingering moments to your chest. "Oh." you said, dumb founded at this new side to Steve.
Oh.
In the thin material of your shirt, the cold stream of air had made certain areas more visible than others. Flushed with embarrassment, you shrugged on the sweatshirt. It was miles too big for you, the sleeves going way past your hands and swamping you. "Cute," Steve mumbled lightly, his own light blush littering his cheeks.
You felt the familiar tightness in your chest that came along with being around Steve these days. The aching desire to just , for the love of God, touch him. To have him touch you. For him to want you as you wanted him. You knew you weren't hiding it well, and somehow that made the ache worse; it meant that either Steve knew and ignored it, or was oblivious. You didn't know which option you would prefer at this point, or which would be the least painful.
Little moments- if you could even call them that- were becoming more common place. Steve would take the longer route to drive you home, playing your favourite music any time you were at his house - despite the fact that you knew he didn't always like it, letting you borrow his clothes after a long night swimming. Was it flirting? You thought so, but then he'd give a long speech on how much he valued you as a friend, and that well known pang of hurt would sit on your heart.
You stared at each other for a long few seconds. Steve had this look on his face. Anger? Confusion? He took a breath, as though he were about to say something, when the intercom sounded over the speakers. "Shoppers, the store will be closing in ten minutes."
You stepped away from one another, and Steve walked wordlessly with the cart over to the check out. You physically recoiled. It felt like you had been stung, on the precipice of maybe, just maybe, voicing the feelings. The way he had looked, eyes soft and lips parted in thought, made you shiver. You followed him with a low head.
You checked out in silence. It was awkward. It was never awkward with Steve, and now it was painfully quiet. You loaded the bags into the back of Steve's car, again in silence, and jumped in. When you both reached for the stereo, your hands brushing lightly, Steve flinched away.
You felt sick.
Something had gone terribly wrong , and the banter had blurred the line of flirty friendship and straight flirting. It felt suffocating in Steve's car. The seatbelt felt like it was digging into your stomach, amplifying your growing nausea as you noted Steve's white knuckle grip on the wheel. "Stop the car," you said. You cringed at the meekness of your voice; you sounded like a child. When Steve didn't respond, you said it again. "Steve, let me out. Stop the car."
"We're on a back road, I can't stop . It's dangerous." Steve's voice was tight, hoarse from the silence. It made your eyes sting.
Out of your control , you felt tears welling in your eyes. Why were you crying? You felt ridiculous. You felt small. You felt like you were going to throw up all over the car. "I don't care, let me out." When he ignored you again, you pleaded. "Please! I'm gonna puke!"
At that, the car screeched to a halt - of course the prospect of the car being ruined would make him stop. The second the wheel stopped moving, you ripped your seatbelt off and jumped out. You felt like your stomach was in your mouth as you stalked away from the car.
"Hey, come on, what are you doing?"
You ignored Steve as you bent by a tree - bleary eyed as you felt your heart sink. "Back up, I really don't feel good."
He continued toward you, stopping behind you and scooping up your hair. "Hey, hey, you're alright. Come on, we're almost home."
You allowed him to guide you back to the car. The remainder of the journey, you closed your eyes and rested your head on the window. When the car rolled to a stop, you realised you were at Steve's house, not yours. "We're almost home," he had said.
The steps from the car to the house, from the front door, up the stairs, and to Steve's bathroom was a blur. One moment you were strapped in and the next you were sat on the seat of the toilet, Steve between your parted knees as he rifled through the bathroom cabinet for Tylenol and a small bottle of liquid. Passing you the pill, he poured some of the liquid - which you gathered was make up remover- on to a cotton pad. He gently swiped over your smudged eyes. "There ya go," he whispered. The action made your heart thud inside your chest. You really liked Steve. Maybe more than you realised. Maybe you had more than a crush on him, you didn't know.
You let him wipe away your mascara tears, hands gentle and soft on your cheeks as he held your face. When it was over, and he removed his feather light touch, a knew wave of tears welled in your eyes. "Hey, come on," he said, crouching to your level. You wanted to scream. Wanted to yell at him how much you liked him, maybe more, and ask him to be yours. The only thing that would come out were soft sobs as you lowered your head into your hands.
Steve could feel his heart cracking at the sight before him. His friend, his best friend, breaking down in front of him and he felt helpless as to what to do. So he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours. "What's wrong?" he whispered in to your hair. You just shook your head against him. If you told him how you felt, the friendship would end. You were sure of it. Steve would be disgusted, and never see you the same as before. "Come on, talk to me."
When you raised your head to look in his eyes, the remaining shards of Steve's heart shattered. You looked so broken. So tired. Defeated. He cupped your cheek gently. "Tell me."
You simply tilted your head, hoping the he could feel the pang of your heart against your ears and read the emotion as your eyes welled again. To emphasise, you leaned forward. Your forehead rested against his for a second before you pulled away, raising your brows.
"Oh." Steve whispered.
He was silent for a moment,
"Oh."
His tone was hard to decipher, but his confusion was evident by the small v shape forming between his brows. It was so quiet that you could hear the thrum of the pool outside the closed windows. You felt like your heart was going to burst through your chest at any moment.
It was only after you swallowed the lump in your throat that you realised that Steve's lips were on yours.
It was a soft, gentle kiss. More a brushing of the lips, testing the waters to see if what Steve thought was correct. When you didn't pull away - instead leaning into his touch- he kissed you again. This time, his lips met yours as though they were two puzzle pieces. ,Made to fit together. His lips were slightly chapped, but that didn't matter at all to you as you wrapped your arms around Steve's neck. When the two of you needed air and pulled away, Steve continued to pepper light kisses all over your face, spending extra time on the corners of your mouth. He wrapped his arms around your legs, and in one swift motion lifted you from your place on the toilet and hoisted you up.
He spun you around, cheering to himself in a laugh.
"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?" He said as he set you down on your feet. His hands lingered on your waist, not inclined to let you go anytime soon. When you shook your head, he lowered his lips to your ear. "I've wanted you since the moment you since the moment you walked into Scoops." His lips met the shell of your ear then. "Since I saw you walk into my 5th period History."
You pulled away in shock, looking at him with wide eyes. When Robin had introduced you, Steve had acted as though he didn't quite know who you were. "You remembered me? But you-"
"You thought I was gonna waltz up and introduce myself as the guy that crushed on you all of his senior year? I don't think so." He pinched your cheeks when you blushed. "Had to be cool, hard to get. Chicks dig it."
You jabbed him in the ribs lightly. "Do they now?"
"Well, you certainly did."
Another jab, this time stopped as he grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. "You're an idiot, Steve Harrington."
He kissed your knuckled gently.
"Yeah, maybe. But I got the girl, so how much of an idiot can i really be?"
The answer was a lot. But that didn't matter. Steve liked you. Maybe even loved you, and you'd forever be grateful for the gang of middle schoolers that sent you out on late night shopping trips because of it.
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blingblong55 · 5 months
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Simon as a civilian
Headcannoning all this:
Simon Riley likes to spend his days off working out and if he has nothing else to do, he will make small things out of clay.
Has a shelf of things he's made over the years and this is because it helps with his anger/temper issues. His therapist told him it was either he takes the medication or he would dedicate time to something that requires time and patience.
Now, he has a room in his home where he makes stuff. It's not normal-looking stuff by any means but it's like Adam(North of the Border/Youtube guy) kind. He takes pride in making 'Tiny Nerdy Things' and is well known in the arts and crafts store where he buys all materials, tools and other stuff. He even subscribes to all those YouTube channels that make dioramas and even leaves comments because this is genuinely something that interests him and believe it or not, he makes stuff for the other men in the task force.
With that said, I like to believe that when Simon retires, this would be what he would do most days, that and fixing the yard because he has the manpower for that. I also believe he would live in the countryside and would have enough space for a dog or two and would even make them cosy dog houses and the old lady that lives nearby would be his sitter for when he goes to visit some friends.
Talking about the old lady, she would be great friends with Simon and when he found out she too spent her days alone, he and her started to hang out more, which leads to shared dinners and stories. Occasionally, Simon spends days over at her place fixing stuff around and making her home more comfortable for someone her age. He sees his mum in her and he will do anything for this elderly woman and her cat, which he later calls his cat too.
When she ends up visiting her children elsewhere, she gives Simon the keys and he happily leaves some of his 'Tiny nerdy things' around for her to see. She compliments him a lot, "You made this? Oh my, you have so much talent." Simon gets excited over this and although no one understands why, she does and she keeps saying it over.
He feels comfortable around her and he never wears his mask, Ghost is out there but Simon is here.
When Christmas arrives, her kids come over, grandkids included, she phones Simon and when he answers he smiles as he hears her invitation to come to the family dinner. "I don't know why you are alone, you know family eats together." This was enough to make him so excited that he ran to his room, found a cosy jumper and nice trousers, fixed his hair and took out the biscuits he made (Price's wife had to come over to teach him how to make them) and runs down to the old lady's home.
At night, she hands him a gift. Turns out the entire time she was knitting, it was a jumper for him and his dogs to match in. Little skulls and paws decorated the jumper. When she opens his gift to her, she finds two ornaments. One with her cat and the Grinch, long story short she told Simon her cat and she would watch the Grinch movies with her late husband. The second ornament was one of his proudest makings, her home, covered in snow and two tiny figures on the frown yard. Simon and her, the cat and the two dogs.
She tears up a little and she says, "You know, this is very beautiful and I will have this on my shelf all year long. You are a good son." The last comment made Simon tear up too and he, like a clingy child, stays beside her all dinner long.
Also, he is the type of guy to visits that specific store for all his materials that he knows the owner, he helps other customers and even says, "No mate, that clay would last and it cracks, try this one instead." This man will walk around the store and give reviews to others and give them better recommendations which do help and now people try and find him around the store for advice and tips.
A/N: tell me why I really do picture him, night and day making small things and nodding his head and going, "Yeah, this is coming better than I expected." Just for him to downplay and be like, "It's bad, the thing didn't come out great and I wanted to make this green but the brush wasn't small enough." (I do this when I create stuff with clay)
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