#100% cotton which is why i had to get it

[anissapierce]

One of the few items of clothing ive bought from estate sale but it's so funky .... first time wearing it out. For some reason at target an old man asked if i worked there while wearing it

[j-esbian]

the way that SO many people have been conditioned (on purpose by clothing companies, let’s be clear) to think “cheap” fabric is always uncomfortable. and if it’s thin? that just means it’s soft :)

[winterrrnight]

what’s stopping rafe from letting reader carve her initials on his v line ??? lowk might need a fic like this tbh

oh my god I love this so so much here is a blurb for you beautiful <3 i 100% see pogue!reader giving rafe a stick and poke tattoo of that heehee (especially maybank!reader cause r definitely learnt how to do these from JJ :p) let me know your thoughts on it ml! 💚

you give rafe a stick and poke tattoo of your initials on his v line <3 a rafe x pogue!maybank!gn!reader blurb <3 cw: established relationship, minimal usage of nicknames and swear words, usage of needles and giving a stick and poke tattoo, a very small mention of bleeding, I did research on how these are done cause I had no idea lol so if anything is wrong please forgive me 🤠🙏🏼

“really? you’d let me do that?”

“yeah sure, why not?”

you couldn’t believe your ears. it was just another night for you at tannyhill, you and rafe under his covers snuggled close to each other as you rested your head on his chest, your fingernails softly dragging across his torso. your fingers had just reached his prominent v line that was showing because his shorts were hanging low, and as you gently scratched it, your mind couldn’t help but think how enticing your initials carved against his skin would look. so, you asked him, and mentally prepared to get your idea straightaway rejected, but he complied, too quickly, and that definitely excited you.

you practically jumped off your bed to get your bag that you always brought with you each time you came to tannyhill and got your supplies out.

“you carry that with you all the time?” he asked amusedly as he saw you sit back down on the bed with your supplies.

“of course,” you said with a deadpan look. what kind of question is that?

rafe only chuckled and shook his head, watching you intently as you prepared everything for it – which wasn’t a lot, a disinfectant and a cotton pad, the bottle of ink, the needle, and a small container of vaseline – but you were definitely more hygienic when it came to stick and poke tattoos than your brother, who just straightaway dove into it.

you gently cleaned the area on his v line where you wanted to tattoo your initials with the disinfectant, and then got to etching the tattoo. you were slow, and careful. you kept on taking regular looks at rafe to see if he was in any sort of pain, but he was taking it like a champ, barely letting out any noises at the stinging of the needle. you kept your steady speed up, and carefully etched your initials, separated by a period mark.

“and done,” you smiled as you lifted your head from your bending position over his leg, and gently cleaned around the area and wiped the small drops of blood with the help of vaseline.

“whoa,” rafe muttered as he saw your initials on his v line, the ink black against his fair skin.

“you like it?” you asked with a smirk as you cleared your supplies and kept them back in.

“oh i love it,” he said softly, his gaze fixed at the initials. “that’s hot, like really motherfuckin’ hot,”

you softly laughed, shaking your head as you leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his skin right next to the tattoo.

“now you’re all marked up.”

— —

I WANNA MARK RAFE LIKE THAT HELLOW???

[erwinsvow]

i’m definitely projecting BUT i genuinely feel like shy!reader would have wavy hair and be so insecure about it (even tho it’s so pretty) so it’s always straightened but i just know if rafe saw it he’d fall even deeper in love with the girl!

oh 100%. lets project together angel why not. if you dont have wavy hair pls look away im sorry. but i do have wavy hair that i straighten all the time so ! you sent this to the right bitch

your hair, though you've been told so many times was pretty either way, is usually straightened several times a week, if not daily. it's easy to fall into the trap of preferring it sleek and shiny than the waves that were pretty for the first day, frizzy the next, and somehow constantly clashing with the outfit you selected for the day.

you thought straight hair was easier, looked better, went with everything. even if it wasn't true, you had bought into it for long enough, your blowdryer and flat iron your two best friends.

the first time rafe met you, your hair had been straight. it was that way on your first date, as well as your second and third, as well as every sleepover at tannyhill or early morning drive to watch the sunrise at the beach. he'd never seen your hair any other way, not realizing there was, in fact, another way for it to be seen, until today.

you and rafe had spent the first hour of the morning rolling around in his bed at tannyhill, working up a sweat, which then was washed off in the shower together. rafe gets out first, listening to his phone ring repeatedly in the distance. you finish up, washing your hair and turning the water to the hottest setting now that rafe wasn't there to complain.

when you walk back to rafe's room, he's on the bed, still on the phone. you try to dry yourself off and get dressed without giving him too much of a show, settling for one of rafe's old frat shirts and using another shirt of his to start drying your hair. he looks at confused, but you don't say anything, knowing he's still on the phone. you need at least a minute to explain cotton t-shirts and scrunching to him.

rafe finally hangs up the call with barry while you rummage through your overnight bag, realizing your flat iron and blow dryer were left behind on your bathroom counter, a result of finishing up your hair for your date yesterday.

"is sarah home?" you ask, looking up at rafe.

"don't think so. and didn't i give you a towel? why's my shirt on your head right now?"

"i forgot my hair stuff at home."

"oh," he says, walking back to his dresser and returning with something in his hand. "here." he hands you a hairbrush.

"what am i supposed to do with this?"

"you said you needed hair stuff. uh, you're welcome."

"i have a brush, rafe. i meant my dryer and my iron. do you think sarah would be mad if i used hers? is that weird, though?"

he didn't think it was that serious, but you look more upset by the second.

"what'd you need that shit for? we're not going anywhere until lunch. it'll dry by then." you stand up, taking the hair out of his shirt and trying to salvage whatever waves remained.

"i wanted to wear it straight for the club, though. my outfit, it looks better with straight hair-"

"huh?"

"and i didn't even detangle or use that conditioner, it's all at home. ugh." you keep scrunching, going to the mirror and taking a look. rafe follows behind you, eyebrows knitted in confusion while he takes a piece of curly hair between his fingers. it's pretty, the way it falls around your face and certain pieces are curlier than others. you look pretty like this, though he's sure you look pretty any which way.

"how come i didn't know your hair's like this?"

"um, i like it flat. do i have to go to the club like this?"

"i like it. s'pretty. c'mon, leave it."

you turn to face your boyfriend. like everyone else, he's just saying it to be nice.

"will you take me home to grab my stuff? please?"

"if you really want it, kid, but i think you should leave it," rafe says, bringing his hand up to your hair, stroking the pieces by your face, twirling a wave around his finger. "c'mon, for me?"

you hesitate, looking up at your boyfriend.

"but i wanna look nice for the club."

"the fuck are you talkin' about? you always look nice."

"but it's not as nice. it's messy. i like it-" rafe interrupts you, bringing his hand to your jaw the way he always does, squeezing tight but not too tight.

"stop. it looks nice. stop overthinkin' it. got it?" you nod. "s'nice. you should wear it like this more often."

"sure. whatever you say."

"that's right."

[hooksbooks]

This is the first of two books I bound for @renegadeguild's Tiny Books Bang.

The story is (don't) take this the wrong way by @delimeful and was typeset by @little-cat-press for the Tiny Books Bang. It's a mermaid AU of Sanders Sides (Web Series), which I had never actually heard of before. But when I saw that it was a merperson AU, this idea popped into my head and I knew I had to try it, especially after I read the story and really enjoyed it.

The inspiration is medieval girdle books, which are books whose covering material (typically leather) extended past the book to a knot that was both used as a handle when reading the book and could be tucked into the girdle when the book was not in use, thus the name.

Where my book is much smaller (it's a sextodecimo, about 2.25" by 2.75") it isn't designed to tuck into a belt/girdle, but rather is attached to a bracelet and dangles from the wrist when not in use.

When I think of mermaids, some things that come to mind are fish, treasure, and tridents, and I wanted to incorporate all three in the design. The book is covered in blue bookcloth, and then covered again in crocheted netting that was meant to bring to mind fishnets. I crocheted the netting from cotton-poly sewing thread doubled up. I incorporated a trident into the filet crochet, which is repeated on both the front and back covers. I blocked it on a piece of blotting...board? paper? It's soft and thick and meant to absorb moisture and came with my book press that started life as a flower press.

I then sewed the netting to the bookcloth covering the boards with teeny tiny stitches. It probably took twice as long to crochet the netting as it did to the rest of the binding combined, but I really like how it turned out.

The bracelet I picked to attach the netting to is gold-colored to invoke the idea of sunken treasure. Rather than attaching the netting from one end to the other, I folded both ends to the middle and attached it like that so when you have the book open it lays more nicely.

The design of the endpapers looks like looped thread, and also reminds me of netting. I secured the bookmark to the bottom of the text block and let it hang from the top, which works better when the book is hanging from the wrist and doesn't get caught in the netting. I also sewed a little starfish charm to the end of the bookmark.

Technical details:

Sewn-on endpapers

Rounded but not backed

No headbands (I think I intended to, but forgot and then decided it didn't matter enough to try to pull the cover back off)

Things I liked about this bind:

I really like the girdle-book-on-a-bracelet design, it came out almost exactly how I had envisioned it.

Things I'd like to change/improve for next time:

I wasn't 100% pleased with how trimming went on these. It wasn't terrible, but I probably need to come up with a different solution than just a utility knife and a straight edge.

Crocheting the netting really did take so long. I'm not even done with the netting that's going on my copy yet, which is why all the pics are from the typesetter's copy. Probably would not want to do netting for anything larger than this one was.

Overall feels: Loved it! I enjoyed the story, the design came out pretty much exactly how I envisioned it, overall I'm well pleased.

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

[bytez4life]

Aomine, Kise, and Murasakibara god they are just amazing but you know whats even more amazing about them when they refuse to admit they're a little spoon/sub its adorable and i love them so much omg

aomine, kise + murasakibara

tw; none

a/n; OH WOW YES </3 GREAT IDEA ANON + u didn't specify pronouns so i used gn, hope ur ok with that!

(+ i didn't want to include the sub part in this request, you can submit another one asking that if you want!)

aomine

- oh my god this one is the most stubborn one

- he 100% tries to put up the "im an alpha male >:(" front

- *gags internally*

- he finds comfort in your hugs, and he's yet to find out about your cuddles

- anyways, this man loves naps way too much

- (probably stayed up all night beating his me-)

- invites you over one day thinking you guys could just chill

- so how did he get into this situation?

~

"y/n, why are you like this?"

aomine grumbled, face tucked into your chest. he had mentioned once, only once, and now he was on his bed forced into this too-comfortable position.

"mm, you mentioned wanting to take a nap, so that's what we're doing."

"arg, yeah, but why are you the one holding me?!"

"because i can."

aomine let out a frustrated grunt, attempting to push himself up. he was soon pulled back down when you hooked an arm around his neck, making him lose his balance.

"stop whining like a baby, you're making the bed cold!"

accepting his fate, he allowed you to wrap your arms around him. despite his constant whining, both of you knew deep down he wanted this.

he's a tsundere, but he's your tsundere.

kise

- this mf would be too energetic man

- he's so talkative you'd probably have to tape his mouth shut to have a full night of sleep

- well i headcanon as someone who had to be that manly person because of his fangirls

- (yeah ik he hates them but who doesn't like praise + attention?)

- and he wants to impress you and keep you happy

- so one day after he got hit particularly hard by kasamatsu

- he came crying to you, so you did the only thing that made sense

~

"come here kise, why are you just standing there? didn't you say you wanted to cuddle?"

he looked at your expression for any sign of trickery, yes he did want to cuddle you but were you sure you wanted to hold him?

"like that? don't you want me to- AAAH!"

tired of his rambling, you had promptly picked him up and thrown him on the bed, flopping next to him. before he could protest, you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his neck.

"shut up already, just relax alright? i don't know whats going on in that pretty brain of yours, but you can let it go for now."

oh yeah, he's definitely getting you flowers tomorrow.

~

murasakibara

- dude, the least concerned about what position he's in

- he just wants snacks and sweet candy

- unfortunately, that constant snacking finally caught up to him

- when his mom texted you if you would take your big baby of a boyfriend to get some cavities removed

- 😀⁉️

- you agreed nonetheless

- waiting outside of the room was a little stressful

- very funny when he finally came out, a sleepy giant of a man just allowing you to pull him along to the car

- when you got home you made him change the cotton pads in his mouth and rinse his mouth

- unbeknownst to you, you were about to deal with THE biggest baby in the world

~~

"but y/n-chin i want candy!"

"atsushi, no. the dentist said you could only eat solid food in 24 hours, which includes candy." you scolded, trying your hardest to push him back into your shared room. surprisingly, he was compliant when he was under anesthesia, allowing you to guide him to the large bed.

he sat on the edge while watching you with dazed eyes as you rushed around trying to get him prepared for bed.

"y/n-chin looks pretty."

that definitely threw you for a loop, choking on air as you fumbled with the clothes in your arms,

"uh, thank you you do too. now, lift your arms so i can change your clothes."

after you finished the tiring task, you flopped on the bed with a sigh ready to take a nap. you soon felt a hand grip your waist, and before you could look up murasakibara had already placed his head on your stomach and fell fast asleep.

--

"i did not do that."

"you totally did."

murasakibara narrowed his eyes at your form, reluctantly sipping on a smoothie you made him.

"i did not, you're making it up."

"then explain this."

you whipped out your phone, holding it up with a satisfied smirk. there on the screen was the purple-haired giant snuggled up on your midsection as you held him in your arms.

"why did you take pictures?"

"atsushi stop dodging the obvious and admit that you did do it."

"no."

"well i guess you arent getting any snacks from me-"

"im sorry."

"that's better."

@BYTEZ4LIFE - do not plagerize/copy

a/n: someone asked me this, but if you get ideas from me please tag me! its not really for credit but i want to see what you guys make <3

[abeautylives]

A Friend in Need

a/n: Just another little thought that turned into a whole thing! I wrote this pre-album name drop and pre-song release and I forgot that I needed to publish it. Credit to @samkiszkasfacialhair for certain artistic choices made lmfao, love you bff. Anyways, stream Greta Van Fleet's latest single, Meeting the Master 🫡

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: He just needs some relief. Who are you to deny him?

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, the illusion of non-consent (it's 100% consensual), friends with benefits, light manhandling, unprotected penetrative sex, rough sex, degradation, oral (m. receiving)

The fine hairs on your arms raise, the air almost crackling with a subtle electricity that your body senses before you’ve even heard him. It’s always like this, you can feel when he’s entered a room before you turn to see him.

Now that you know he’s there, you can hear his bare feet padding softly toward you and you wonder where he’d snuck in from. The front door hasn’t opened since you’ve been in the sitting room but you suppose you could have just missed each other in passing, he could have arrived and slunk up the stairs in silence as you’d stood in the kitchen filling the watering can you’re now wielding. Just as you stretch to hydrate the pothos bathing in the light streaming in through the window, a pair of warm hands slide over the skin peeking out from below the hem of your t-shirt.

It’s suddenly clear why he hadn’t announced his arrival, why his jubilant voice had not rung through the foyer, calling for you.

Something is wrong.

You know Joshua well, and you have for several years. Fast friends since the day you’d met, he’d recently asked you to look after his house when he was away, to tend his plants and the feral cat that lurks around his backyard. Although he claims he has no attachment to it, he insists on making sure it’s fed.

And so, your duties had been outlined clearly: drop by and fill the cat’s dish on the back porch, grab any mail from the box and leave it on the kitchen counter, water the plants if they need it. He’d insisted on compensating you for your efforts, which you’d declined in hopes of not ending up on his payroll.

Thank god you’d rejected his offer. Being in his employ would make what you think is about to happen rather… improper.

Without turning to face him, you keep your tone light as you settle on your heels and ask if he’s okay. He doesn’t respond with words, just drops his head forward and rests his forehead against the threadbare cotton covering your shoulder. You feel his head move from side to side as he shakes it, no.

“What do you need, Josh, how can I help?” His continued silence makes you nervous, his fingers pressed into the thin skin at your hip bones bring you closer. You know the answer, already accepted the truth of it. The watering can clatters over the hardwood as he knocks it away, you're pulled from the window and your face is pressed into the adjoining wall before you can concern yourself with the water splashed across your ankles.

With his fingers laced into the hair at the base of your neck he keeps you there, cheek pushed into the cool surface as his other hand works to push the elastic waistband of your leggings down past your hips. You open your mouth to speak, to stop him or tell him to keep going, you’re not sure but he snaps your head back and the only sound that escapes you is a pained inhale of breath. Straining to see his face over your shoulder, you find reddened cheeks and knit eyebrows, full lips set into a tight line. The flush is creeping down his neck and across his chest, bare and heaving.

“Josh…”

“Shut up. I don’t wanna talk about it.” He’s mad, or sad, or both and he’s got your leggings hugging your thighs just above your knees, fingers tucked under the plain cotton at your hip, already sliding it down. “I need to fuck something, how fortuitous to find you here even though you knew I was getting back today. Convenient.”

Oh, he’s pissed.

Your panties fall and meet the bunched up fabric at your knees but the hand that’s pushed them there doesn’t leave you, its fingertips skim up the back of your thigh and sink into the soft flesh of your asscheek. Finally glancing up to meet your eyes, his are pleading with you but his mouth expresses his need differently.

“Spread your legs.”

You nod against his hold and try to obey his command, but the elastic wrapped around you only allows your feet to move but so far from each other.

“That’s as far as-“

He throws off your balance and stops your words in their tracks, his own foot coming between yours to kick them farther apart. You can hear minuscule threads snapping, the material stretching until it breaks and satisfied with that, he leans in and runs the tip of his nose up the side of your neck. He takes his time, breathes in the scent of you and loosens his grip on your hair. This is going to be the solitary moment of tenderness, you can feel that in his touch and you brace yourself for his next words.

“I need you.” It hits your skin and travels down your spine. As your head nods your consent, your body offers it as well, your back arching just slightly and ass pushing against his hips. “I’m not gonna be nice. I need to fuck you… is that okay?”

His voice is quiet, deep and it gives off the impression that whatever tempest had been brewing inside him had stilled, but you know this is simply the calm before the storm. You face it headfirst.

“Yeah, Josh. It’s okay… take what you need. I'm here.”

So lightly that you barely feel it, he ghosts his lips over the skin just below your earlobe before he nods his head.

A tense hand slides down the back of your neck and holds on tight. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.” The other is between your legs before you can respond, and pleased with what he discovers there, he growls his gratification into your ear. “Your pussy is practically dripping for me, begging me to use her.”

His fingers are slipping through your obvious arousal with no intention to pleasure you, only to take from you. You hum at the feeling anyway, just to lose it when he pulls away to undo the fastenings of his pants. Your body relaxes without the pressure of his hold around your neck as his pants sink down around his ankles, he’s definitely not pleased when he notices and you’re pushed against the surface again once his cock is freed.

“I said don’t move.” There’s a barely contained anger rolling off of him like a haze, a fog clouding his normally sunny demeanor. He shoves his hand between your thighs again, fingers indelicately sliding through to collect some of the slick moisture leaking from you. A timid whine sounds from deep in your throat, it’s a little embarrassing that he’s affected you like this, that your body is so willing to accept a punishment for something that has nothing to do with you. Your cunt mourns the loss when his touch leaves you again, but his knuckles are brushing against the swell of your ass as he rubs your arousal over himself.

Unable to see him fully, all you can do is sense his next moves but your muscles jump when he runs the tip of his dick down the cleft of your ass before he slips it where his fingers had been. His skin is like velvet and fire, and you only get to appreciate it for a moment before he’s pushed inside you to the hilt.

“Fuck fuckfuckfuck Josh-“

In an instant he’s everywhere, fingertips digging into you and the other hand smoothing up the front of your body, under your shirt until those fingers are sunk into the pillowy softness of your naked breast. His breaths are heavy against your ear, the heat from his chest blanketing you as his hips work themselves into your ass.

He’s bruising you from the inside out, you can feel it with every thrust and you let him, taking his retribution silently until a deep stroke buckles your knees and rips a cry past your lips.

The chuckle that huffs out and over your cheek is sinister and hot. “Did that hurt, angel?” Rather than soften his blows, he puts his full weight into them. The mewling whimpers escaping you sound pitiful, even to you, even as you’re clenching down around him. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

You’re left empty when you offer no response, spun to face him and pushed back against the wall by a palm splayed across the middle of your chest.

“I asked you a question.”

He looks sinful like this, curls already sticking to his forehead, perfectly straight teeth bared in what you’d almost consider a snarl. He expects an answer but you let your eyes travel over the sharp angles and soft curves of him, let your gaze drop until it lands below his navel. You’ve never seen him in this state of undress, fully nude aside from the khakis and briefs resting around his ankles. The last time you’d let him find relief between your legs, neither of you had removed an article of clothing. It had been hurried and hushed, and afterward you’d smoothed out your skirt and left the dressing room.

You’d told yourself that last time was the last time. But he needs you.

A sharp sting brings you back to focus, his hand is still against your cheek when your eyes snap to his.

“What the f-“

“I asked you a question. Did I hurt you?”

He had, but it’s already a distant memory that recalls as pleasure rather than pain. “Yes…”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes…”

He sounds disgusted by your admission. “You did, I felt you squeezing me, whining for it like a whore.”

Oh god. Heat spreads across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, burning the spot where he slapped you.

“Take your fucking clothes off, I’m not done with you.” He kicks his own away and turns his back to you, casually moving toward the couch and relaxing into it, an arm outstretched over the back. You watch each other as you free your feet and pull your shirt over your head, as he takes his cock into his fist and strokes it slowly. He looks almost regal as he wields his command over you with his eyes alone.

“Interesting that you were waiting here for me, tits out. Indecent, really. Come here.” It’s not lost in the moment that he’s never seen you this way either, his eyes are zeroed in on your chest as you move across the room. “I want your mouth, you gonna let me have it?” He’s surprised when you sink to your knees but he wipes it from his expression immediately and tangles his fingers into your hair. “You really are my whore, aren’t you?”

You bat your eyelashes as you replace his hand with your own around his cock, swollen and still slick from you. Your lips meet the tip, a chaste kiss pressed into his flushed skin. “Whatever you need, Josh.” He groans as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, sighs in relief as he slips past them and growls when you take him to the back of your throat. His grip against your scalp tightens and you let a moan ripple around him, ready to pull out all the stops and give him your best but before you make your first move, he jerks you off of him.

A string of saliva keeps you connected before it breaks and dribbles down your chin.

“I’m not in the mood for some pretty princess blowjob, don’t bother.” With wide eyes, you nod in understanding and open your mouth, tongue laid out for him. He forces you down around him and holds you there, nose pressed into the soft hair at the base until your lungs are burning. When he pulls you back slowly, you drag your tongue along the silken length and release him with a pop, suck in a ragged breath before you take him in again. Wrenching you over his lap with the fist locked in your hair, his hips are thrusting up from the couch, you bring your hands to rest on his thighs and feel them bunch under your touch.

With your lips wrapped around his cock, cheeks hollowed and tears pricking the corners of your eyes, it strikes you that the way your fingertips are pressed into the muscle of his legs feels like the most intimate way you’ve ever touched him. You also realize that between your own legs you’re throbbing with neglect.

Lost in the way he’s fucking your mouth, grunting through clenched teeth and eyes clamped shut, he doesn’t notice when you slide a hand off of his and slip it between your own thighs. Two fingers tucked inside, you pump them at the same rhythm that he’s working himself over with inside your mouth before swirling them over your clit. A quiet but high pitched whine, interrupted in your throat by his thrusts, draws attention to what you’ve done.

“Absolutely not.” You’re pulled up and away from his lap until you're face to face, noses touching and heaving breaths mixing. He looks incensed but you can’t help but wonder what it’s like to kiss his lips. “If you cum, and I truly don’t care if you don’t, it’s going to be with my cock inside that greedy pussy of yours.”

Just as quickly as he’d had you against the wall, he’s got you bent over with your face pushed into the back of the couch. You’re braced for him to slam into you, but he takes a moment to commit his view to memory. Your back is arched and legs spread across the cushions, knees sunk into the fabric, he can see everything. Gripped tight in his fist, he rubs himself through you, takes in the way you open for him, soft pink skin spread around him.

“Pretty…” He says it so quietly, when you think back to this you’ll be sure you imagined it.

He pushes into you slowly, just for the visual. As soon as he’s bottomed out he rears back and slams his hips against you, over and over, hands wrapped around the small of your waist. His voice, gravelly and laced around the edges with hunger, rises over the sound of your bodies colliding.

“I want it, need to feel it. Touch yourself. Fuck-“

More eager to give him what he needs than to take it for yourself, you do as he’s commanded. Your fingers slide over your clit sloppily, your entire body jerking forward with each of his thrusts as he fucks into you at a brutal pace. You feel a hand slide up your spine and find its home back in your hair, he yanks your head back.

“You’d do anything I wanted. You’d let me fuck your ass right now, wouldn’t you?” There’s venom in his tone again and it shoots straight to your core.

“Yes, anything, anything!”

He just needed to hear it. “Filthy, fucking filthy.”

Your orgasm takes hold, a hot rush of shame and pleasure gripping you and pulling you under. His name tumbles forth, absorbed into the cushions and through the frenetic buzz in your brain you hear him call out to you.

With an animalistic groan, he releases it all. Whatever had happened that brought him home frustrated and needing, he lets it go as he spills inside you. He doesn’t stop, fucking it all into you until he’s empty, completely spent.

When he collapses, he pulls you with him and into his chest as he falls to his side onto the couch. You can feel the change in him, the heaviness he was carrying when he’d entered the room is gone, and any resistance to his fondness for you fails as his lips come to rest on your shoulder. When you’ve both caught your breath, he slips from your body and shoots you a shy grin as he helps you sit up.

You try not to watch as he stands to stretch and walks across the room to retrieve your discarded clothes and his pants, but his ass is bubbly and cute and you figure you deserve to enjoy the view. When he bends to scoop up his pants he catches your gaze over his shoulder.

“Like what you see?”

You do, and that’s probably fine. “Ehh, it’s alright. Jake’s ass is better.”

Your t-shirt flies through the air and lands across your face, you’re laughing as you pull it away and start tugging it over your head.

“Jake's ass is bigger. Not better.” He’s stepped into his khakis and his affectionate giggles trail off as he tucks himself into them and slides the zipper up. Eyebrows knit together again, he appears to be in serious contemplation as he picks up your balled up leggings and underwear. You’re still naked from the waist down as he comes to sit at your side.

“Hey.. you know I didn’t mean that, right?” His eyes are trained on your face, swimming with worry as he carefully ensures that they don’t wander lower.

“Give me those. Didn’t mean what?” He hands over your clothes and you pluck your panties free, bending to slip them up your legs and lifting your hips to pull them higher, unconcerned when his eyes dart to the junction of your thighs before it’s hidden from view.

“When I called you… ya know.” His head drops forward and he huffs a sigh of disbelief.

“A whore?” He meets your eyes and cringes before running a hand over his face then dropping it to place it softly over your own, resting in your lap.

“I don’t think you’re- I mean, I would never think that of you. I’m lucky to have you.”

“Josh.” You tug your hand free of his to cup his sweet face in your palms, smoothing your thumbs over the corners of his mouth until a lopsided smile pulls his dimple to the surface. “I know that. Do you wanna… talk about whatever happened today?”

“No. No, I feel better. You’re too good to me, I don’t pay you enough.” The rest of his perfect smile stretches across his lips, the first real one you’ve seen since he snuck into the house.

“You don’t pay me at all, and it’s going to stay that way.” You pat his cheek as you stand from the couch and he doesn’t stop himself from watching your bare skin disappear as you step into your leggings and pull them up. “You do owe me a new pair of these, though. They’re all stretched out.”

His grin is smug, self-satisfied. “Consider it done. Do you wanna stay and hang out? We can order food, I’m fucking starving.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m gonna go… clean up.” His cum is leaking from you slowly, you try not to mention it.

“Oh, oh my god yeah of course.” A pink tint of embarrassment creeps over his face, making you chuckle. He calls out as you leave the room, “Hey, what do you want, I’ll order it!”

“Whatever you want, Joshua! Whatever you want.”

Taglist:

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Hi beauties, I was not keeping track of Taglist requests that were specific to Imperfect Moments so if you didn’t want to be included here I’M SO SORRY. Please just let me know and I’ll do better in the future 😘

[onyichii]

My Reply to you Cocogum

This is a response to @cocogum post! Since it is SUPER LONG! Imma start doing this instead of reblogging if I have a lot to say.

OG Post by COCOGUM:

YES COCOGUM!! I am LOVING YOUR ENTIRE POST! I have a few thoughts to add...

A) I'm happy her hair is growing out too! I hope she eventually has hair as long as her mothers.

I want her to look like a forest goddess.

I think the growth is a symbol of just (as you said) being happy or at peace. In TV/movies people cut their hair as a symbol of change (freedom from the past) and grow it out again (sometimes) when they're at a new happy place. As we have seen, her hair and that green leaf she sports now are a symbol of her new found happiness.

B) I too was not expecting the "adult fun time" scene but i am hoping we get A TON more especially if this series is gonna be 100 chapters. I want more fluff, more hugs, more kisses, more f--ks! lol Put a baby (or three) in her Yugo! Give the Sadida kingdom an heir!

I can see where you are coming from that Yugo was having a wet dream. If that's the case, that is funny because he (presumably) had just pollinated his flower queen and he is dreaming of doing it again! 😀😀 And he called her tireless!? LMAO. Whether it was a dream or they were interrupted before the nut we can agree that they are BOTH hungry for each others touch/warmth (based on that scene alone).

I still think they were interrupted before they...made sap🌳and fell from the air.

I think the "adult fun time" positions you were suggesting are accurate and I can see Yugo switching too. I think it would depend on who initiates it. When she initiates she's top but when he initiates he'd top....sometimes (not all the time because as you said—he loves the view)! lol

C) For the open room. I think the construction of the floor (or level) gives them privacy. Like a long corridor before the room entrance. And at the entrance to the corridor there'd be a magical cotton bell (as seen in s3) that rings when pulled to let the royals know when servants want to enter. BUT if there is no magical door bell (OR ANYTHING) that is bold of them!! lol.

Rereading your post...if the doorway is open like that it makes me think of this quote (the last quote at 1:40) from the film Scary Movie (watch from 1:30 to 1:42 for context)

D) So I am GLAD people have been bringing up Draconiros. I am not deep into the WAKFU/KROZMOS/DOFUS universe and had NO IDEA who he was nor any of the other primordial dragons.

I got into Wakfu for Amalia. I thought she and Yugo would be cute from all the hugs she gave him. When they canonized a potential Yumalia (in the OVA) I STANNED for their star-crossed lover romance that could never be. I love the whole cast but Amalia's character design is so cute/fun (it drew me into Wakfu).

Anyway, I am curious if Draconiros is ALSO responsible for Nora's daydream in ep 4 of season 4. THIS SCENE ALWAYS THREW ME OFF!

I feel like this scene was added for two three purposes... 1) to introduce the audience to Efrim (in a foreshadowing way) 2) to add to what Oropo says in episode 1. Questioning Yugo's "good" intentions and actions which have caused (and WILL CAUSE) trouble for the World of Twelve. 3) To sneakily, introduce Draconiros (without the audience knowing).

The reason why I think this is Draconiros and NOT Efrim is because—how would Efrim know any of what was said in that scene? Efrim is in the Necroworld at this moment. He and Nora were in the Krozmos away from the World of Twelve for a long time. There is NO WAY Efrim would know about YUGO's effects on the World of Twelve. At none, that I can think of...

Which also brings to question, how did the Goddess Eliatrope know the Brotherhood of the Tofu and everyones names when they entered the temple? Did I miss something? I mean Quilby could have told them some things. From before his imprisonment...but I digress...

Anyway, I think Draconiros took on Efrims form/voice in s4. And now he is making an official appearance in the manga.

If they had shown Draconiros in season 4, it would be a loose end. And Tot wanted to wrap the animation up without any loose ends. So (to me) it'd make sense not to show Draconiros' true form at all in s4 and have him take on Efrims form/voice.

E) I think this dude is gonna be a problem. But I may be over thinking 🤷‍♀️. And shouldn't he be referring to her as QUEEN Amalia instead of LADY Amalia? Does he have some passive aggressive beef with her? Or is it okay to refer to a Queen as Lady instead. I feel like the Sadida's are more chill about titles (compared to other kingdoms) but...idk.

His character design (in this scene) is just giving...bad guy or pawn to me. If I am right, he could play a betrayal role (if the plot takes that turn). I do not see him being a fan of the Eliatropes either.

F) And I agree that the Sadida kingodm is tense with it's new residence. I'm glad you brought up the perspective from the Sadida but let's talk about it a little more with a Eliatrope in mind...

The Eliatrope have NEVER had to live with another race before. EVER. They had their OWN PLANET. No other race existed on there but them.

Thanks to Baltazar (in s2) they had been watching Yugo through the Eliacube, but have they been taking notes on the customs of the world around him?

Being on a new planet with so many races must be a SHOCK to them. ADDITIONALLY, they haven't interreacted with anyone but each other for goddess knows how long!!! So the communication, customs, cultures, and everything probably hit them like a TON OF BRICKS. I would assume that they don't (quite) understand what tolerance and acceptance of other cultures is thanks to their isolation too.

However, it is something they are gonna have to learn. Starting with the Sadida race.

Since they're teens I think (...well, I hope) it'll be easier for them to learn and integrate into the world of twelve via the Sadida Kingdom.

ALSO...It will take time for the Sadida's to be comfortable with the Eliatropes too. I mean...people have been trying to take their homeland (via possess the tree of life) for a long time. It's no surprise that they are weary/tense of some alien race residing on said homeland. They may know Yugo, but they don't know his people. They probably think they'll take over....IDK.

But I am here for the tea! 🫖🍵

FRIDAY NEEDS TO HURRY UP!!

[trashpandacraft]

hi! ok so i'm going to talk about one of my top-five favourite things, which is: dyeing stuff! this is going to be specifically about dyeing protein fibres (animal fibres—wool, alpaca, silk, etc) in a pretty low-key way in your kitchen.

to be clear up front: this is not the most scientific, most perfectly reproducible, or most Objectively Correct way to dye things. i get a lot of fibre that i like this way, though, and i think that other people can, too.

fibre i've dyed that i think is neat:

you can also dye yarn like this:

yes, i like blue a lot. i also really like variegation and heathering, which is why most of the fibre here has patches of white—it's an intentional choice that i've made. you can make different choices.

here is what you need to dye things:

fibre, vinegar, dye, a pot, heat, and some water.

that was so you don't get overwhelmed by the impending wall of text. here is what you need to dye things (it's the same stuff!), but with way more detail:

fibre or yarn. this is the big one, obviously. i tend to dye in 100-200 gram batches, because that's approximately what fits on my stovetop easily. if you're very nervous about felting or harming your fibre, you can use stuff that's been treated to be superwash, start with yarn (which is harder to felt than fibre is), or use a felt-resistant breed like dorset or suffolk. honestly, though, i learned with merino because that's what i had, and it was fine. again, though, this guide is only for protein fibres. it will not work for things like cotton. the only exception to this is nylon, which will take on some colour, but less than a protein fibre will.

a mordant. this is a fancy way of saying a thing that makes dye stick, and for what we're doing here, it's citric acid or vinegar. your grocery store definitely has at least one of them, though if you can choose, i prefer citric acid, because i love wet wool smell but i do not always love wet wool vinegar smell.

dye. i use acid dyes, and am personally deeply loyal to dharma acid dyes, but ashford and jacquard acid dyes work the same way. if you don't want to buy dye or don't have access to it, food colouring will often work, as well, though i haven't tried this with natural food colourings and have no idea how well they'll work.

a dedicated dye pot. ok, if you're doing food dyes, you don't need this. if you're not, it's definitely best practice, though i don't know how dangerous it is not to. any large metal pot will do, but my favourite option is hotel pans, which are those huge metal pan/tray things that hold food at buffets and the like. i have a full-size one that's 15cm deep, and a half-size one that's 4cm deep. they're great because they let you lay out the fibre you're working with so you can see most of it in a single layer.

dedicated dye utensils. as before, i don't know how much of a huge deal this is. i'll be honest and admit that for several years i had a single pair of tongs that got used for all tong-requiring events, including dyeing, and i'm still alive. i suggest that you have at least a big spoon, and a big spoon and tongs are even better.

something to mix the dye in. yeah, i use empty plastic sports drink or soda bottles for this. you can be fancy and get mason jars or little squirt bottles or whatever, and if you get super into dyeing you'll want to mix up dye stocks, but that's way outside the scope of what we're doing here. i like the powerade bottles that have a little squirty mouthpiece, because it's fun to squirt dye onto things.

personal protective equipment. i think this is the part of things that freaks people out. ideally, you wear plastic gloves and a mask (yeah, like your covid masks) when you're working with dye. realistically, i almost never remember to put on gloves and just accept that my hands are going to be blue sometimes. you should wear a mask, because dye is an irritant, but the world is an imperfect place and i have wicked bad adhd and sometimes i forget. this isn't advice. i'm just being honest. you should use some kind of safety stuff. you probably won't die if you don't.

you might also want some little random bits: an old toothbrush or paintbrush, a pipe cleaner, some toothpicks, etc. this is mostly if you like speckles, or if you want very small patches of colour.

so first: there are a million ways to dye things, and i'm not convinced that any of them are objectively correct. i do what i do and it works for me. some of the things i do are the opposite of what most guides suggest, but i do them because i like the effects they create.

ok, that's all the background stuff you need. let's dye some stuff!

the number one most important thing to remember when you're dyeing is this:

you can always add more colour. you cannot take it away.

that's in fancy writing and bold because every once in a while i forget this, and every single time i end up regretting it.

here is how to dye things:

put water, citric acid (or vinegar), and fibre into a pot. add dye and heat. let cool completely. rinse the fibre in cool water, then hang to dry.

like, sure, we're going to go into way more detail, but push come to shove, if you do that, you're going to end up with dyed fibre. there are a lot of tutorials telling you that you must soak your fibre first, or you must add your citric acid this way, or hold the water at exactly this temperature, and i'm here to tell you that while any of these things can give you different results, those results aren't necessarily better.

the only way that you can totally screw this up is by accidentally felting your fibre, so before i get into the way more detail part of things, i'm going to talk about that.

how not to felt your fibre

i feel like if you've read this far, you know how things felt: wool, heat, and agitation. you may also notice that at least two of these things are required for dyeing. this can be stressful! but you don't have to be afraid of it. there's only been one time that i felted something to the point that it was unusable, and that happened because i literally fell asleep for several hours while the pot was on the stove. you can avoid doing this by simply setting an alarm—this is a good idea anyhow, because you'll want to check on your dye pot!

when you're dyeing, use the lowest heat that you can while still keeping the water at a simmer. if your stove, like mine, has one burner that's wildly unpredictable and sort of out of control, you may want to look for some sort of flame diffuser, also called a flame tamer or a simmer ring. i bought one on amazon for about fourteen dollars, and it's literally just a thick metal circle. it works fine.

you can also keep the heat low by using a pot with a thick bottom, though in my experience those are expensive, and if i had one i would be using it for soup, not wool.

avoid shocking your wool—never put room temperature wool into hot water, and never put hot wool into cold water. leave your wool in the dye bath until it's cooled completely, which for me usually means overnight.

finally, obviously you have to move the fibre around some. you'll need to peek under it in the pan, and when you're done, you have to rinse it and squish out the water. try to minimise handling, though. don't run water directly onto the fibre, don't get a wooden spoon and stir your dye pot around, don't wring the fibre dry when it's done.

you're probably never going to be perfect. i often find that i lose a gram or two of wool where fibres have grabbed onto each other, or where parts of the ends clumped up. it's not really felted, just sort of compacted, but it's not great to work with, and i'd rather lose a gram of fibre than fuss with the clumpy bits.

back to how to dye things

let's take it step by step, assuming a hundred grams of fibre.

put your pan on the stove and fill it halfway with water. add either a teaspoon of citric acid or a tablespoon of vinegar. this is going to help the dye strike, or stick to the fibre. the teaspoon/tablespoon is a guideline, but one that it's fine to exceed. adding more will help the dye strike faster, which can be useful if you're trying to create blocks of colour on your fibre. i usually err on the side of a little more than the guidelines, and just eyeball this—if you feel like the dye isn't taking well, you can add more later.

add your fibre to the pan. this is the first place you have to think about what you want the finished fibre to look like! you can put it into the pan any way you want, but i suggest trying to keep it in a relatively even layer, regardless of what that layer looks like. here are some ways to get specific effects:

if you want a gradient from one end of the fibre to the other, use a rectangular pan and lay your fibre out so that the line of it is parallel to the short sides of the pan

if you want a short, repeating gradient, use a rectangular pan and lay your fibre out so that the line of it is parallel to the long sides of the pan

if you want something that starts with very close repeats that get further apart as you go down the fibre, make an approximate spiral

if you don't want A Pattern (i usually don't) just lay things out in a single layer, more or less

here comes the next exciting part! decide if you want to let your fibre soak or not. again, doing or not doing this gives you some different effects!

soaking your fibre will mean that dye takes more evenly. if you want consistent colours, you'll want to soak.

not soaking your fibre means that the dye takes less evenly. the fibre on top will have less acid available to it, spends less time in the dye bath, and also has to actually get wet before it will start to dye. i actually love doing this, and think it affords a lot of cool opportunities to play with and layer colours.

if you're soaking, leave the fibre there until it's submerged. if not, don't.

now you're going to add dye! decision time, again.

you can add dye when the water is cold, which will give you more even dye coverage, and in my experience gives the colours more time to mix together

you can add dye when when the water is hot, which will give you less even coverage, and tends to encourage the colours to stay more delineated

probably surprising no one, i tend to heat the water first unless i'm starting with a base colour or i'm doing a two-colour gradient.

time to mix up some dye

as i mentioned earlier, i'm assuming that you're using powered acid dyes for this. if you're not, this mixing up part is technically optional—but doing it gives you way more control about how and where you place your colours, so i'm going to assume that you'll do it.

i usually mix dye in some sort of empty drink bottle. regardless of what you're using, before you add dye to anything, put some water in the bottle, wipe off the lip, put the lid on tightly, and shake the bottle vigorously. if there is any leakage at all, do not use that bottle. find a better bottle. if your bottle cap doesn't seal well or if you have an empty condiment bottle that's just a little wonky or whatever, you will get dye all over the kitchen, and your landlord will be really really mad about it, and you will regret your life choices. (if you own your kitchen, you can do whatever you want, but this isn't about you and you know it.)

so you have a bottle that seals tightly! great job. dump out the water and carefully put some dye powder into the bottle. remember earlier how i said you should be wearing a mask? this is the part where you should be wearing a mask.

i know that people are reading this and going, ok, but how much dye do i put in?

my answer is put in the amount that feels right in your heart, and don't forget the number one rule of dyeing things, which is that you can always add more colour, but you cannot take it away.

this isn't a very scientific answer. most dyes have a guideline about how much to use, expressed as a percentage of the dry weight of the fibre, which is what you use to get the whole quantity of fibre dyed evenly. for dharma dyes, it's like 1.5-2%, i think ashford is 1%, and jacquard is more like 2-4%, depending on the colour.

here is the problems with doing that in your kitchen: first, using that much dye will get you an evenly dyed piece of fibre, which—for me, at least—is basically the opposite of what i want. second, and more importantly, unless you have one of those teeny tiny scales used by jewelers and drug dealers, your kitchen scale will not weigh out such tiny quantities with any accuracy. third, if you do it like this, you really have to plan what you're doing ahead of time, because there's a point after which no more dye will bind! the fibre will be like enough thank u that's it i'm good and that'll be it, so you lose some of your ability to decide that actually, you want more green.

you can probably guess, at this point, that i don't weigh the dye. once you've done a couple batches of fibre with a given brand of dye, you'll start to get the vibes for how much you should use. if you really want a guideline, for a hundred grams of fibre, start with a quarter teaspoon of a given colour. you can add more—either more of this colour or a different one—later, as desired.

put your dye in the empty bottle, and then fill the bottle partway with hot water. the amount of water doesn't really matter here, nor does the specific temperature of the water. i usually fill about 3/4 of the way, because that way there's plenty of room for this next step, which is: wipe the lip of the bottle, recap it tightly, and then shake it up real good. the dye powder is going to dissolve into the water, and you now have a bottle of dye!

if you're going for a gradient, you might want to mix up your second colour so you can add them at (basically) the same time for more even mixing. if you're not, or if you only have one mixing bottle, you can do them one at a time.

oh my god we're finally putting dye on the fibre

are you ready? it's time!!

you have basically infinite options for how to do this, and many of them will give you different effects. here are some ideas:

pour the dye all at one side of the pan. and if you don't add anything else, your fibre will fade from the colour of the dye to the natural colour of the fibre

pour two colours, one at either side of the pan. depending on how much dye you use (and remember, you can always add more), this will give you either chunks of colour surrounded by white, or a two-colour gradient

add all the dye to unheated water and mix it gently, then let the fibre soak for a few minutes longer before turning on the heat. this will give you a fairly even colour

pour randomly all over, and you'll either end up with a tonal yarn or a heathered one, depending on how much dye you're using

add the dye to the water under the dry fibre, which will sink in and take up more dye on the bottom of the fibre than the top

if your heat wasn't on before, it should be now, and you're going to let the dye hang out in the hot but not boiling water for a while. how long? well, one of the cool things about dyeing with these dyes is that they exhaust, which means that when the dye has been sucked up by the fibre, the surrounding water will be clear. how long this takes will depend on the specific dye, how much of it you used, how much mordant you used, etc. i try to check every fifteen minutes.

reminder: if you started with room temperature water, the dye's not going to start taking until the water heats up, so don't check it after fifteen minutes and freak out that nothing has happened. it is fully normal for it to take up to an hour for the dye to exhaust. don't turn up the temperature, just give it time.

yay it worked!

at this point, you have a pot of hot water with some beautifully coloured fibre in it! but maybe it's not beautiful enough. maybe you want...more colours.

that's cool as hell and you should go for it. we mentioned two-colour gradients up there, but what if you want something else?

the answer, probably obviously, is adding more dye.

first, a caveat: while you can successfully make multicoloured gradients like this, it's more difficult than you think, and if it gets messed up—all the colours bleed into each other, say—it turns into a muddy mess. my suggestion is to stick to two (or three at most!) colour gradients until you have a much better feel for what you're doing.

let's talk about ways you can add more colour. you have two options: big colour and little colour.

big colour is going to add a lot of colour—you're going to mix up the dye and pour it just like you did before, but paying more attention to places that don't have dye yet. sometimes it's the middle of a gradient, or the white splotches from random pouring, or the half of the fibre that wasn't submerged when you started. or maybe you dyed the whole thing yellow, and now you want to add a blue gradient over top. whatever!

if you don't want to freehand pour, consider buying a couple large syringes, or a bottle with a squeezy top. these are also fun because you can easily get more colour between the laid-out fibre, or even under it.

in the pictures at the start of this post, the red-and-gold top and both yarns were dyed by adding big colour.

little colour isn't going to add big patches, but is going to add speckling, tonal depth, or smaller patches of colour. all of the blue-base fibres and the yellow-and-blue yarn were dyed like this.

if you're still reading this closely, you might have caught that i just said both yarns were dyed with big colour, and that the yellow-and-blue yarn was also dyed with little colour. these are both true! the base colours of the yarn were done to make big colour, but if you look at the full-size image, there are also a bunch of speckles. you can do whatever you want! no one can stop you!

here are some ways to add little colour:

mix up some dye, but use less water. add drops of the dye, either directly onto the fibre (more dramatic!) or in the water (tonal!)

use a toothpick to grab a little bit of dye powder and drop it into the dye bath (similar to the previous one, but a little less predictable)

put on a damn facemask. take a clean toothbrush, paintbrush, or pipecleaner, and just barely touch it to the dye powder. gently flick or tap the brush to add speckles of that colour

find a salt shaker that you're never going to use for anything but this. put citric acid, salt (to make it distribute better), and dye powder into it, and shake it up (with the holes covered, please cover the holes) to make sure they're evenly distributed. gently shake this over the fibre to add speckles, but more of them, and clustered together

put a little dye in a spray bottle and gently mist the exposed fibre, kinda glazing it with colour

another thing is that if you like a natural coloured yarn with dyed speckles, you can do any of these techniques without doing big colour first. the only thing to note when doing this is that you'll want to be very sure to spread out the fibre well, and maybe to consider dyeing one side, then very very carefully flipping it over and getting the other side.

ok, now what?

let's say that you've added all the colours that you want, and you've let your bath simmer long enough that the water is clear, or nearly clear. (if it's not, check troubleshooting, below.)

put the lid on your pan and walk away. if you don't have a lid, just walk away, but it's less dramatic.

the super frustrating part here is that the safest thing to do is wait until the water and fibre is fully cooled before you do anything else.

have i ignored this? yes

has it ever gone horribly wrong? not horribly wrong, but it's definitely caused me to lose an inch or two of roving on occasion

is it way more stressful if you don't wait? absolutely yes

honestly maybe just go to bed and deal with your fibre in the morning

so now let's say that it's morning and you slept long enough that your water and fibre are both room temperature, which often actually feels quite cool on your hands.

you have to drain your fibre. there are two ways to do this:

lift the fibre out of the water. this has the upside of not risking dumping your beautiful fibre into your sink, and not needing to maneuver a full pot of water, both of which are admirable. the downside is that wet fibre is fragile, and you'll want to be careful to support it.

dump the water out of the pan. this has the upside of minimising how much handling you're doing of the fibre, as well as (in my opinion) making rinsing easier. the downside is attempting to keep the fibre into the pot while you dump the water into the sink, and also needing to carry around a full pot of water.

secret third option: dump the fibre (and the water) into a strainer. upside: very easy, and you can keep the fibre in the strainer while you rinse, minimising both how much it needs to be handled and the weight on the fibre. downside: i never remember that this is an option until i'm already elbows-deep in acidulated water, discovering every tiny cuticle tear.

you're going to fill your dyepot with water again so that you can rinse the fibre. you want to minimise thermal shock, so keep the water temperature as close to the temperature of the fibre as you can, and don't run the water directly onto the fibre. i like to pull all the fibre to one side of the pan, and fill the pan on the other side.

side note: if you, smart person, remembered that you can use a colander, simply fill a pot with water, put the colander in the pot, and gently agitate the colander.

if you, person who is deeply relatable, did not remember you can use a colander and now have a pot with clean water and fibre, gently move your fibre in the water to encourage any excess dye and also citric acid to get out of there.

drain your fibre again, and this time, you're going to squeeze it dry. you're still trying to minimise agitation, so this isn't a 'wring it out' situation, it's a 'gently squish it between your hands and/or a hand and the side of the pot' situation.

hang your fibre to dry. remember what i was saying earlier about it being fragile? let me suggest, here, that you do not simply drape the entire length over a single hanger or something and hope for the best. if you literally have a single hanger, at least drape it back and forth a bit, but better if you can use more than one hanger, or a clothes drying rack, or that weird metal wine rack thing that came with your fridge that you've never used, or whatever.

important reminder: drip-drying things will make your floor wet! if you live somewhere very clear with no major roads or pollen nearby, you can probably dry things outside, but if you don't, you'll probably want to position the drying rack in a bath, shower, laundry area, or otherwise over something that will catch and/or absorb the water.

how long it takes for the fibre to dry is another unknowable variable. if it's warm and dry where you are, it might literally be overnight. if it's damp and cool, it can take days. the batch i posted a couple days ago literally took almost a full week to dry. spread it out as best you can, gently squeeze out the water you can, and otherwise you just have to wait.

you're done!

when it's dry, that's it, you're done! you might find that you need to pick off some little lint balls or a bit of compacted or slightly felted fibre from the tips, but other than that, you should be good to go.

like most fibre stuff, this is best maintained by handwashing in cool water. you may see a little bit of dye or colour loss the first time you wash it, which is pretty normal and nothing to worry about.

congratulations! you made it to the end of this incredibly long post, and if you followed along, you've just dyed some fibre!

troubleshooting

this isn't dyed enough! i want more colours!

add more dye! i'm not the boss of you.

this is true even after the fibre is all done and dryed. there's nothing that says you can't dye it again—you can, and i have.

some fibre seems to require more dye than others. silk, for example, dyes beautifully with acid dyes, but also needs way more dye than i expect it to.

remember that if you're dyeing something that's a wool/cotton blend, for example, the cotton isn't going to dye. the only exception is nylon, which will kinda dye, but not as dramatically. this guide will not work for plant fibres.

this is too dyed! i want fewer colours!

please refer back to the number one most important thing about dyeing, which—as you know—is: you can always add more colour, but you cannot take it away.

pull out some more fibre and try again. this has a learning curve, just like any other fibre craft.

these colours don't look like i expected!

this can be about a lot of things.

colour guides, especially if you're looking at them online, aren't always very accurate.

colour guides tend to assume that you're dyeing a single colour at the suggested dye percentage of weight, and using less than that will give paler colours.

dyes, especially if you're mixing brands, can interact with each other and behave in ways you didn't expect.

dyes can also break, which is when they split into their component colour molecules. this happens commonly with blacks and browns, food colouring, and anything that dharma trading has marked as 'advanced'. some people find this very desirable and seek it out; some people are very frustrated by it.

the ph of your water can sometimes affect your dye. i've been lucky enough that i've only lived places with lead problems, not weird ph stuff, so i haven't investigated this closely, but if you're consistently not getting the results you expect, even going for a single, solid-colour dye, look at the ph.

my dye water's not clear!

if you used a quarter teaspoon of dye and a hundred grams of fibre, and it's been, say, 45 minutes of actually hot water and your water still isn't clear, you probably didn't use enough mordant, and you should add some more citric acid or vinegar to encourage the dye to get in there and do its thing.

if you used you used more like a teaspoon of dye, or if the citric acid doesn't change anything, you used too much dye for your fibre. you can either shrug and pour it down the drain, or you can add some more fibre and dye that, too.

my rinse water's not clear!

you probably used too much dye. it's ok—just keep rinsing it, gently, until it's more or less clear.

some colours just like to run—you know how every once in a while you get a yarn and it just bleeds a little bit every time you wash it? sometimes it's just like that. i wouldn't worry about it too much.

my fibre has felty/clumpy bits!

a little bit of this is normal, especially at the ends of a fibre that felts easily (this means you, merino!)

pick off the bits that you don't like—this is generally fairly easy, and involves very minimal fibre loss. i don't bother doing it until i sit down to spin, and then just pull off bits as i come to them.

if there's a lot of felty/clumpy bits, more than you can reasonably pick out, you agitated the fibre too much. there's not much for this other than trying to card it out, which may or may not work.

sometimes this happens because your stove got weirdly aggressive and boiled your fibre. especially for wool that's prone to felting, the bubbling and jostling can be enough to encourage more clinginess than you'd like.

i want my dyeing to be reproducible!

this is kinda doable. it's a handmade thing, so it's always going to have some natural variance, but you can do it.

buy a jeweler's scale that measures in fractions of a gram.

start measuring your dye and acid, and take detailed notes about what you do.

follow those notes in the future, and you'll be probably 90% of the way there.

i want to dye with natural dyes!

i fully support this and have played around with it a little bit myself, but absolutely do not know enough about it to advise you.

the internet is very large and full of many people who are much smarter than i am, and i feel confident that at least one of them is desperate to tell you all about how to do natural dyeing.

i am, at this point, not that person.

i want to dye plant fibres!

i am begging you to find another guide, because this one will not work.

you didn't answer my question!

that's what my inbox is for

i have to reiterate that i'm just a person with real specific interests who started dyeing things because i couldn't find or afford the kinds of colourways that i wanted.

i am not a professional

i will do my best to answer questions, but sometimes the answer is 'just fuck around until you find out'

plant fi—

shhhhh

the end

thank you for reading this incredibly long post! i might make another one in the near future, either so i can show pictures or because i took out an entire section about how to choose colours and pick a colour scheme and work with colours, and i kinda want to talk more about that, but this is no joke almost six thousand words long, so i thought, you know. maybe not tonight.

anyhow, i hope that this was useful to someone! thank you for letting me talk about one of my very favourite things.

[pityroadart]

since the tags on my Lewis hands painting have mostly been along the lines of #WATERCOLOR?! HOW? (thank you!!) I figured I may as well do a wee step by step of how I painted the skin)

(disclaimer: I did not take many photos of the different stages, so you'll just have to trust the power of my narration)

(above) first up: the reference was from the Met Gala, as posted on Lewis Hamilton's Instagram. I can't take credit for the framing/pose — that was all the photographer

here's my cleaned up sketch and the first couple layers — I did a wash of colour on the hands first (quin burnt sienna PO48 quin maroon PR209 pigments my beloved, the best for warmer/deeper skin tones), added in a layer of shadows in the same colour to build structure, then got the inky black background in (mostly burnt umber PBr7 & French ultramarine PB29 I believe, with a bit of Roman Szmal's shadow grey too)

I kinda wish I'd left the background like that, but hey this whole piece was an experiment so I'll learn from it next time

next I added in further shading to the hands — again with the same skin tones as before, in different concentrations depending on the area, with the addition of some redder and darker tones too where needed. I also painted in the tattoos here — making sure they're under a layer or two of watercolour settles them into the skin like a real tattoo, rather than them looking sharpied on

And then! this is where the magic happens, and the part I'm most pleased with: by the stage of the first image above, the shadows were great in terms of position/shade, but felt a bit too blocky and stylised for the piece. So, if you get to the same issue (whether painting skin or clothing or anything with softer and more rounded contours), what you wanna do is:

make a pool of incredibly diluted skin tone mix on your palette. Literally, just water with a subtle hint of colour, roughly the same value as your highlights

get your softest brush. Nope, softer than that. In watercolour brushes, 'springy' is the opposite to 'soft', so you want bristles that don't really bounce back to their original shape if you push the wet brush against a firm surface. I'm using the Silver Black Velvet brush I've been using for the whole painting, but ideally a squirrel/sable or synthetic sable brush is gonna work

gently paint that diluted skin tone wash over the whole of the area (the hands, in this piece). This is why you want your softest brush, so as not to disturb the paint underneath too much. It also helps if the pigments you've been using are more staining (resistant to lifting). In general, phthalos and quinacridones are most staining, and granulating pigments least so. I've been using earth quinacridones here, which are moderately staining. Using good quality 100% cotton paper also helps

before that diluted wash is dry, get some paper towel and dab out the highlights. This keeps the edges softer and more natural than if you just painted around them

the wash you applied should have been just enough to soften those hard edges of shading you had previously, leaving lovely soft and more realistic transitions. Ta-dah!

then, off-camera, I added the darkest shading, painted in the gold, and felt it was missing something so added some scribbly highlights in 'ivory' coloured pencil. And that's that! It did involve a lot more swearing and complaining than I've just made it seem, but the skin part at least was something I'm used to.

[hyperfixation-fix]

Aight so.

Just reblogged a post that mentioned Nico canonically having depression (totally agree), but I wanted to talk about my other headcanons around Nico's mental health AND MORE IMPORTANTLY his recovery journey.

(AN IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm very wary of talking about headcanons involving mental illness, bc it can easily cross the line into romanticising mental illness. I grew up in that kind of online space, and it's toxic af and makes recovery almost impossible. So I want to emphasise, especially for younger fans who read this - Nico gets better, canonically and in my headcanons. So did I. So will you. It takes work, and often it's not a painless or pretty process, but it's so much better than letting yourself rot away in the dark. Romanticise being well, being happy, and getting better.)

In my head, Nico is autistic. But I think he's been so traumatised and so dissociated for so long that he doesn't even really realise how much things affect him, how much easier things could be if he gave himself permission to be the way he is.

FOR EXAMPLE. I think he is specifically very sensory-sensitive, but he's so disconnected from his body and brain that he doesn't really realise it. He just always feels Bad™️ and has never been safe enough to figure out why. So then, once he gets comfortable at CHB and really starts to finally feel safe and present, he starts to slowly untangle things bit by bit. Will is a big part of this - he's very intuitive and notices stress queues in Nico before Nico even realises he's stressed.

It starts off with Will noticing Nico avoiding crowds, which isn't necessarily weird for a kid who spent the last several years with ghosts, but then he realises it's not actually the people that bother him. It's the noise. Like, Nico avoids the Apollo Cabin as much as possible, even when it's completely empty except for Will, bc it's constantly got music playing a little too loud. Nico doesn't even really know why he doesn't like it and doesn't really bother thinking much about it, but Will is like "huh that's interesting". And, as he gets closer with Nico, that pattern becomes more and more apparent - in noisy places, Nico becomes tense and guarded, but in quiet places he's more relaxed. Then Will notices Nico's sensitivity to textures. Some clothes are consistently "grumpy Nico clothes" and some are "happy Nico clothes".

Will decides to run little experiments, making subtle changes around Nico and taking note of Nico's reaction. For example, suggesting Nico change clothes before a date because "I like the black jeans better" ie "the black jeans are a softer denim and stiff denim makes you grumpy". Or swapping out Nico's sheets bc "whoops my bad, I was practicing wound cleaning and spilled supplies all over them! But don't worry, I've replaced them with a new set so it's all good," ie "your sheets were cheapass 100% cotton and rough af and that's why you haven't had a good night's sleep like, ever, so here's a high-quality satin (or whatever, idk fabrics) set that probably won't bother you as much." And lo and behold, Nico sleeps like a baby every night after that. Or orchestrating a whole plan to get Nico into the Apollo Cabin when it's quiet (music gets turned low, siblings are threatened with weeks of dish duty if they don't keep it down), and seeing if he's less on edge. AND HE IS.

And eventually Nico picks up on Will's increasingly elaborate accommodation experiments (Will is simply having way too much fun at this point - he feels super sneaky, finds it hilarious that Nico still isn't noticing, and also just loves seeing Nico less stressed out) and is like "Solace I know you're up to something, out with it or else." And at that point Will is like "ok bet" and pulls out a fucking spreadsheet (Annabeth taught him how to use excel (yeh I know demigods don't vibe with tech but this is my headcannon so deal with it) with great joy and little-to-no interest in why he actually wanted to learn) with a bunch of Nico's triggers and sensitivities and the success rates of different accommodations. Nico is like "I'm actually going to kill you, you've been fucking with my brain for months????" but is barely containing how curious he is and how sweet he actually finds it that Will has thought so much about how to make Nico happy. But Will knows, especially when Nico, even while grumbling, takes the spreadsheet with him.

The next day Will presents Nico with a present he was saving for the final big-reveal: some loop earplugs or something similar. Discrete and practical 😌 Will just leaves them next to Nico's bed with a cute lil sticky note that says "Before you orchestrate my untimely demise as promised, give these a go. Consider it the last request of a dead man walking ;) love you Neeks x".

And that's that. The earplugs make a massive difference, much to Nico's surprise and Will's smug satisfaction, and from then on Nico starts to reconnect with himself and gets better and better at recognising things that make him more comfortable, and using them. Will considers his experiment over (a resounding success, of course), but is unwaveringly supportive and helpful as Nico figures stuff out.

Lol that became very long sorry, but it made me happy to write it out hehehe

[br1ghtestlight]

they're wearing their raincoats so for me this is already a 10/10 episode. love when they wear their raincoats!!

not big bob and tina going on the toddler rides at amusement parks together. LESS THRILL MORE CHILL. truly two autistic peas in a pod <3

big bob is seventy five (at least according to louise) this is important lore. also this means bob's dad is the same age as his gayass old man landlord who flirts with him every other day FJDMDJDKSMS according to my caculations big bob would've been 29ish when he had bob which means he met lily when they were in their early twenties. that also means (assuming that lily was the same age as big bob) lily would have been around 43 when she died although the math doesn't add up 100% if you consider her being born in 1941 because it would mean this episode takes place in 2016 which it doesn't. am i overthinking this one-off line where louise guestimates big bob's age??? yes i am thank you VERY MUCH.

LMAOO NOT THE BIG BOB REPUBLICAN DOOMER ARC OH NOOO

big bob making conversation while spending the day with his very young grandchildren: so have you considered that the world is terrible and people are awful and we should all kill ourselves? thoughts?

(im sure that isn't what bob meant its just funny to imagine big bob depression posting circa 2013 tumblr @ his grandkids all day)

ALSO this implies bob has been talking to big bob more regularly lately which is great. they're working on their relationship. a little bit :)

BIG BOB FOR REAL BEING A QANON TRUTHER EXCUSE ME???? THE FUCK. ohh he's literally a doomer he's watching videos about the upcoming apocolypse and how to ration food. HE'S A CLIMATE CHANGR DOOMER ITS SO OVERR im sorry thats so funny im obsessed w/ him

also our first time ever seeing (what im assuming is) bob's childhood home!! very cute. and he made them cookies

BIG BOB COMING TO VISIT BOB AT HIS RESTAURANT???? HUGE WIN???

why is big bob calling bob randomly to talk about how the world is ending and tigers are going extinct what is GOING on. at least he believes in climate change??

"like he's getting ready to..... leave the party. so he doesn't feel bad about telling everyone how much the party stinks" DONT TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT if there's an episode where big bob dies its over for me. like its done <- there won't be but i would be very very sad IF THERE WAS. to be fair we gotta kill off linda's parents too though

aww they're texting regularly <3 i like how you can ALREADY see how much bob and big bob's relationship has improved since the start of the show where bob Literally thought his dad hated him and that he was a disappointment. see what actual open communication can do for you!! im happy bob has at least one parent he can talk to kinda sorta? HE SHARES HELPFUL TIPS SO THAT BOB CAN SAVE HIS FAMILIES LIFE HES TRYING TO HELPP :(

"and today its just gonna be him. and them. and the giant cloud of darkness that follows him wherever he goes" funnily enough thats also what people say when talking about me :3

GRANDPA HUG!!!!!!!

"pop pop how much cotton candy is TOO MUCH cotton candy" "i dont know. three??"

LMAO FOR SOME REASON THAT REMINDS ME OF THIS FUCKIGN QUOTE. big bob when gene comes out to him as genderfluid like

wharf day with pop-pop!!! wharf day with pop-pop!!!!!

grandpa needs a little bench time. im ALWAYS saying this tbh

"don't get any tattoos that your parents can see" FUN GRANDPA he's definitely a better grandpa than he is a dad bcuz he was not doing this shit w/ bob when he was young i can tell you that much

OMG I LOVE TEDDYS RAINJACKET?? sorry i live in a rainforest its my god given right to comment on people's rainy day fashion. its like my one job

"i need to ask you guys A HUGE favor. can you try to take a good picture of me" teddy u are literally always hot this shouldn't be a problem. you're DRIPPING sex appeal. except this is for a handyman website so maybe less sexy?ANY PICTURE I TRY TO TAKE OF MYSELF I LOOK LIKE A MURDERER FJFMDNFJDKDNDJXHXH

louise shows up whenever she goes and figured out the best way to Cause Problems and i respect that about her. that takes real talent and dedication

one thing about the belcher kids they WILL end up locked inside a fortune telling clam in wonder wharf

he's sooo baby

everything is so okay bob dont even WORRY. big bob is asleep on a bench and the kids are stuck inside a giant clam they've done more dangerous stuff like twice this week already. at least they're inside??

"its fun when your dad shows up to. check on your grandpa"

ITS SO EASY FOR YOU BOB WITH YOUR CHARMING LOVEABLE FACE

do you not trust me with the kids :( noo big bob they literally (kinda) trusted GAYLE with the kids for AN ENTIRE WEEKEND u cant be worse than her at taking care of them. she was making them do some shit that Kids should not be doing. anyone remember the pretty paws

??? why was he just randomly like oohh we should win that gorilla for the kids. he loves them SO MUCH im gonna cry <3 he literally loves them and wants them to be happy. he SPOILS them. he's such a good grandpa and such a terrible dad lmfao

"are we being punished? for being helpful and delightful??"

if i was walking around an amusement park and i heard a robotic fortune telling clam SCREAMING for somebody to help it escape i would get the fuck outta there so fast sorry kids. you might be on your own w/ this one

i dont know why bob is acting like he doesn't lose the kids four times a week MINIMUM those mfs will run off anywhere if given half the chance. they live for the thrill

"we lose 'em and then we find them. that's our thing" ?? what did he mean by this

WHY ARE THEY LOOKING FOR "CUTE" TOOLS this subplot is so funny im kinda obsessed. mechanics for the girlies

HOW DO YOU MAKE A TAPE MEASURER LOOK SCARY........

teddy is scaring the hoes nooo. its okay teddy i would hire you maybe(??) well. yknow

IM A GENTLE PERSON :( teddy i will always be your biggest fan wtf he's literally so sweet. he wouldnt hurt a fly

silly <33

LMAO not louise just lying there and saying help us. help us. help us into the microphone she's so cute and SOOO over this whole situation

TEDDY IS HAPPIEST WHEN HE'S EATING BOB'S BURGERS THATS SO SWEET WTF

he's a good grandpa :(

SOMETIMES YOUR GRANDPA CAN BE A LITTLE DARK ABOUT LIFE AND NEGATIVE. YOU MEAN LIKE YOU LMAOO

if you keep saying stuff like that around your grandkids they're gonna believe you.... and then it might actually come true. so maybe don't say horrible stuff about the future to people who will have to live in that future </3

IM NOT ALWAYS WORRIED ABOUT THE FUTURE AND THATS **BECAUSE** OF MY GRANDKIDS what if i cry right now. he literally loves them so much he's such a good grandpa!!! wtf Anyone else thinking about amelia right now. the ending

AAWWW THIS EPISODE WAS SO CUTE IM OBSESSED WITH BIG BOB he was such a terrible father but he's the best grandpa and he loves these kids SO MUCH. genuinely. and im so happy that his relationship w/ bob is getting better and that they're on better terms. also the subplot with teddy was adorable i always love teddy and linda subplots. they're BESTIES. maaaybe my favorite episode from this season so far but honestly they've all been so great that there's like five different episodes competing for that spot. and we're still only eight episodes in!!! absolutely everything i wanted from an episode with big bob (even if lily wasn't mentioned. SAD!! oh well there are other episodes) and i loved learning more abt his relationship with his grandkids and that dynamic ^_^ <33

[bluemoonperegrine]

A WIP snippet and additional silliness

Chapter 3 of "A Friend Indeed" is sloooowly coming together.

I've sent my collaborator Kat (@onbearfeet) the various ways slightly addled Jack is making a fool of himself, which inspired additional silliness. We figured we'd share.

Here's part of the start of the chapter.

[Jack's not 100% with it yet. His mind is wandering as he gazes at Elsa, who's trying to tell him important information.]

Watching Ted lope through the breached wall filled Jack with joy. If her wide smile was any indication, Elsa felt similarly. She’d laughed as well, a delightful—

“RUSSELL!”

Jack startled, spilling some of the pink, vaguely fruit-flavored nutrition drink from the glass in his hand onto borrowed sweatpants. Better those, he supposed, than the fine leather of the chair Elsa had insisted he take or the computer keyboard on the desk in front of him.

“Bloody hell,” Elsa sighed.

Jack gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, Elsa. You’ve been more than generous, and…” He looked for somewhere safe to set the wet glass and came up empty. “I’ll go. I can reimburse you for the clothes.” 

Although Elsa hadn’t said it, the gray Nike sweatshirt and sweatpants she’d thrust at him a half hour earlier were hers. The soft cotton carried her scent despite having recently been laundered and pressed. The legs and arms were a little too short, but overall the sweats were comfortable. Jack couldn’t be happier.

Elsa fixed an unamused look on him. “Are you daft? That—”

BAM!

None of the pink fluid escaped the glass this time. The sound of the creature hurling itself at the manor was familiar already.

“That,” Elsa said, “is why you’re staying here at least until dawn. And honestly…” She pursed her crimson lips as her dark eyes flicked over him. 

He was a mess, Jack knew. He had been before he’d spilled the artificially flavored liquid Elsa had ordered him to drink on her sweats.

They’d agreed that he needed to get into clean clothes and eat before Elsa would explain why something was trying to break into the manor. By the time Jack had washed up in a powder room more elegant than most luxury hotels, the attacker had gone quiet.

“…you need at least a full day’s rest,” Elsa informed him. “I’m surprised you made it up the stairs! I should have made you take the lift.”

Her concern warmed Jack’s heart. “You could have carried me.”

Elsa blinked, and Jack felt his eyes widen as his words caught up with him. Where had that come from? It must be the silver talking. 

“I could have,” Elsa said with a hint of a smirk.

Jack nodded.

--------------------------------

Then Kat and I started goofing on it.

Kat: Jack you dingus 🤦‍♀️

Me: I want Elsa to carry Jack over a threshold. 😂

Bridal style or sack of potatoes?

yes bridal style initially 😂

Jack, internally, after she switches to a rescue carry: don't compliment her ass don't mention her ass don't THINK about her ass--

🤣 🤣 🤣 If he's addled he'd compliment her ass

He'll do it the second he's even slightly distracted

He wouldn't say this but it's funny to think about. "Dat ass!" Elsa: *drops him on his head*

Elsa: You're getting the room with the bat wallpaper because it's closest to the stairs.

Jack: Has anyone told you you have a spectacular ass?

Elsa: *drops him on his head, but on a bed*

Elsa: They have. You're the first of them who wasn't slapped.

Jack: Thank you kindly.

*stabbed

Yes, that's better

[journeyman-tier-fibercraft]

WIP Wednesday day. Lots of fucking around and also black/grey this week.

I didn't knit the border repeat of my evenstar (Shawl 14) for a couple days there due to family gatherings so I just banged through a couple repeats last night and called it good enough. Which puts me at 12 repeats out of 56. I was right that it's already a little boring but each repeat takes me less than an hour so it's pretty easy to just. Knit one and move on.

I also finally got through the first half? of shawl 15's repeat. I'm entirely off pattern so I'm just kinda fucking around until I get low on yarn but I'm not entirely sure where the paper is I wrote down all my yarn weights on before so I can't really continue until I track that down. When I was actively working on it all the time I wasn't super happy with it but picking it up again, I really like it. I'm sure I'll hate it again within the hour but that's what happens every time I do any sort of colourwork.

Speaking of hating my colourwork, the weird super bulky knit skirt is. I can't tell still if I love it or hate it. I've had fun making it either way but man does it confuse my brain. I'm almost done with the actual knitting portion, I decided to add a lace edging around the bottom which was a mistaakeeee. I still think it looks ok? so i'm not going to remove it but every row takes Forever to knit. The edging pattern I started with is beautiful but 18 rows and I literally will never finish this if I do all of them (also I managed to totally fuck up the row i'm currently knitting and have no idea how or why but it's black yarn on super big needles I'm not gonna be able to fix it).

This skirt still absolutely 100% needs steam blocked tho and I don't have a place for that set up right now. Also other finishing work (sewing in the waist elastic that was thankfully on sale, I kinda wanna add some of my patches to it, I wanna embroider some on it). I think? I don't like it right now not because it's ugly. But because it takes up so much space on my desk. So the minor hatred will not go away for as long as I work on it.

Lastly is a different fuck around project. Knitting a large gauge sweater out of the world's stinkiest crochet cotton with intentionally distressed lace work. I finished the sleeve I was knitting and now started with the front body, which I've strangely had a lot more issues with (dropping stitches, tension issues, the crochet cotton hurting my hands when purling). I don't have much to say about this one tbh, I'm not looking forward to the short rows to shape the front neckline (the pattern I'm working off of has zero neckline shaping so I'm going to make it up) but it's mostly purling that has me down. I'm almost tempted to do part of the body in garter stitch or switch to norwegian purling but neither of those are attractive options for different reasons so I'll just suffer (and wait for my hands to heal all the way before picking it up again).

[woollyrhinocrafts]

Real talk time:

I've had these bags in my shop for two years now and haven't sold a single one. I've tried different price points, doing discounts, paying for Etsy ads, and they are still languishing. They're in my way in real life and clearly bags are a bust so I'm cutting the cord on them. Pricing of similar bags on Etsy are all over the place and it looks like everyone tried bags so it's mega-oversaturated. My bags don't even appear on the first three pages of search results and I have an established shop, Star Seller, etc. so I usually get some priority even without paying for ads.

I'm willing to part with each of them at cost (approximate materials) if you DM me. I'll take Venmo or PayPal. Shipping will be calculated by weight and I'll ship cheapest option available (unless you want something else), but you have to pay it, because they are heavier items, and I'm going to let you have them for 5-20$ and I don't want to come out in the negatives because of shipping, which will be more than $5 for the smallest, you see.

Any bags that are not sold by Christmas will be taken apart for a Great Yarn Reclaimation and I'll just be another dirty reseller and resell all of the handles for profit because I bought them in bulk thinking I'd be making a bunch of cool bags. I'd really like the bags to get homes though, if possible.

Teal Daisy Bag 12x16" - 10$

Pastel Rainbow and Black Tote 11x15" - 5$

Purple/Blue and Black Tote 11x14" - 5$

Blue and Black Tote 11x14" - 5$

Monochrome Tote 12x14" - 5$

100% Cotton Rainbow and Black Mesh Bag - 15$

100% Cotton Spring Colors/Beige Bag - 15$

100% Cotton Blue/Black Stained Glass Panel Bag 12x12" - 15$

Square Spiral Fall Colors Bag 12x14" - 5$

Everything is first come, first serve. Share this in case someone you know wants a handmade bag, that took hours to make, at a price that makes me want to be unalive. Let me know if you have questions about a particular bag or whatever. I'll respond ASAP unless I'm asleep and my sleep is pretty wonky right now. lol

I'll try to edit this post if bags are sold, but I can't always edit my tumblr posts and I don't know why, but I'm old and tired, and I want these bags out of my way.

Here is my Etsy shop if you want to buy something else from me.