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#also also if i have more yarn than needed i want to see if i can give it a hood and/or pockets
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Fall Yandere Prompts
Fuck Me I put prompts on the other thing at didn't actually put prompts, I suck anyways here are a few prompts made by yours truly. Others are free to use them just please tag me. Thanks. I'll make more Halloween ones if people like these.
Apple Cider: A sweet yet tangy that leaves a warm feeling. Your eyelids start drooping after drinking every drop.
Bonfire: Dry sticks and leaves are so easy to burn in high bright flames. Be wary of what the light attracts.
Crows: Inky black birds with a glimmer of intelligence in their eyes. You feel a dozen pairs of eyes watching your every move.
Dry Leaves: Crunchy and brown and always fun to mess around in. You hear a second set of feet slowly trotting behind you.
End: Autumn signifies the end of Summer and a change in season. It also signified the end of your freedom.
Flannel: The warmth of this fall apparel is so comforting in the crisp weather. Don't you like it, they picked out just for you.
Grain: Bountiful and golden, shaking in the cool breeze. You meet a friendly stranger standing in the grain field, holding a scythe.
Harvest: Fall provides us with a bountiful harvest of corn, pumpkins, apples, pears, and grain. Such bounty requires a sacrifice to be made.
Indoors: Why go outside when you can snuggle under the covers and keep warm? Just because it's your home doesn't mean you are safe.
Jack-O-Lanterns: Grinning gourds light up the night, carving them is a fun activity. They want to participate but got a little too creative.
Kettle: Boiling water for a hot beverage on the stove is so nice. The water isn't quite done but you still hear whistling.
Leaf: Colorful trees make such wonderful leaves they look good pressed in a book. You see one on your bed side every day, they have a distinct metallic scent.
Mushrooms: Clustered together they're a fungi to be around. More seem to grow near you each day in strange patterns.
Nutmeg: Fall spices are aromatic and make every dish warm with flavor. If your running low the next-door neighbor might have some, might as well come inside while they look for what you need.
Orchard: Fruit trees tended to with tender care, baring crimson fruit. Picking just one won't hurt.
Pie: Steaming goodness wrapped in a golden shell. Have another slice there's plenty to go around.
Quiet: Many an autumn night is filled with sweet and calming silence. It feels a little too quiet tonight, might want to retire early.
Reaping: How to harvest the crops grown, you reap the rewards of the Earth. Someone has come to take you or your soul, they're not very picky.
Spider: Dainty legs weave beautiful webs, enticing as they are dangerous. Any prey they catch, they won't let go.
Tree: Majestic and tall these ancient plants reach up to the dwindling sun with aching branches. Haven't you seen that tree before, you must be hopelessly lost, perhaps that's better than being found.
Umbrella: The cold weather makes rain extra chilling; with a warm smile you share your umbrella. No good deed goes unpunished, as the storm outside isn't what you should be worried about.
Vermillion: Beautiful shade of red found plentifully in the fall, its beautiful yet it can be a dangerous color too.
Wind: Rattling trees and blowing the leaves to the ground, the wind tickles your ears and nips at your nose. It carries with it the unhinged words of a person you never want to see again.
Xenial: Being most hospitable is a must during autumn. This does not change when a stranger shows up at your front door requesting shelter.
Yarn: Soft threads of vibrant colors used to create warm clothes, blankets, and other things. The string prevents you from moving while someone knits in the corner, eyes focused on you.
Zipper: Better zip up when it's so chilly outside, wouldn't want to catch a cold. You also might want to zip it before they hear you.
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amimere · 2 months
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(belated) final tdf update!
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after slightly extending it, because i got sick for a week, i managed to finish my project within the tdf timeframe!
next on the agenda is getting it all wound up and starting the knitting of the cardigan
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piplupod · 2 months
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idk there is genuinely something a little bit funny how your body can somehow hurt from the nervous system acting up and your brain can be blaring alarms and you can feel yourself on the verge of crying and yet the whole time you're just kind of sitting separate from it all and being vaguely irritated about the fact that you have to get up and make a dinner for yourself
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gremlinhourz · 3 days
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genuinely expecting to fail my first class in college!! and its like as much as i can get upset at myself for continuing the cycle of procrastination that ive been trying to break free from for years, i also feel like the reason im primarily upset is because i feel like im disappointing others and/or giving them a bad impression of me. like im not upset because i think i could have done more, im upset because i think other people will think i could have done more. when like honestly with school ive just developed an "it is what it is" attitude, like all i can do is try and try again, and if that means taking eng111, crashing and burning, but most importantly learning, then taking eng111 again, so fucking be it
#hey its much easier to edit than to start writing so why dont you just get those thought down#on the page and then you can come back and edit them tomorrow#i was going to schedule a meeting with my academic advisor to ask about the logistics of retaking the course this semester#but of course the school is switching the platform contacting advisors is through this week so i cant really do shit#i also need to look into getting accommodation :sob: i just havent yet...#but i was actually looking at the forum for it today and one of the questions was like “what common difficulties do you have with school”#and one of the choices was “writing/expressing my thoughts”#and it just made me start to tear up seeing that acknowledged as a difficulty#because to be honest i feel like im always over-exaggerating/making up struggling in that area and it never feels like something that i can#get help in#like it feels like it is my own problem my own fault there is no way for someone to help me because the problem is just with me and it is#only if i try that it will actually be solved#but idk#looking at it man#i do try#like i do think there is some truth to improvement only happening if that person is willing to improve#like basically i have observed that like someone trying to change my behavior with punishment and stuff is never effective#and like its not until i take initiative to make changes for myself that change will actually happen#but like now seeing trouble expressing thought being recognized on an accommodations forum#it makes me consider that maybe this isnt something i can only overcome on my own#i feel like its like “oh i have trouble expressing my thoughts/writing” but then its like “then what the fuck is this post”#and like again i also question if i over-exaggerate/fake my struggles#but its also like ive been writing this post for almost an hour now#i consistently struggle with writing assignments because it is so hard to make sense of where i want to go#my thoughts feel like tangled ball of yarn that i cannot get down on the page because i dont even know what theyre trying to say#i would talk more but#i should just work shouldnt i :sob:#((but is also like i always tell myself#but. i never do that. because its like i know that there is something i could say and something im trying to express but i dont know what i#is
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roboticchibitan · 6 months
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Okay, I've made enough "blease knit gauge swatches. Swatchless projects killedy family" posts. This post is an informational post a out gauge swatches. It will mainly be written in knitting terms because that is my main craft but it applies to crochet too. Even if you're an experienced crafter, you might learn something from this post. I talk about different reasons to make a swatch and some reasons a swatch might lie to you.
What is gauge?
Gauge is the size of your stitches, ie how wide and tall they are. It can be affected by the way you hold the yarn, your tension, and your needle/hook size. In knitting the style you knit can affect this, with the tendency being that English style is usually, but not always, tighter than continental. When I went from knitting English style to knitting Norwegian style, my gauge drastically changed to be much looser.
What is a gauge swatch?
A gauge swatch is a small piece of work that you use to measure your stitches per inch and rows per inch gauge. "Standard" gauge swatches are 4in/10cm squares, but often you'll see different sizes, especially for lace patterns that have you test knitting a certain chart or stitch
Why do we make gauge swatches?
We make gauge swatches to check if our gauge is the same as the pattern designer's gauge. Because you want your gauge to be the same as the pattern designer's so you know your size XL sweater will actually be size XL or your six foot in diameter shawl will actually be six feet across. Or that your airy and beautiful lace will actually be airy and beautiful and not too dense or too loose.
We also might swatch if we are substituting yarns. For example, a blocked lace swatch of wool will have different dimensions than a blocked lace swatch of pure silk because silk is less stretchy than wool. So if you are substituting fibers, you want to know that you'll like the finished item and might swatch a bit of the pattern before starting in earnest so you don't waste your time making something you'll be dissatisfied with.
There's also some differences between yarns of the same fiber and same weight. Some lace weight yarn is categorized as lace weight while being 600 yds per 100g, and some lace weight yarn is 800 yds or 1000 yds per 100g. So you should knit a swatch when substituting yarn even if they are the same fiber and weight if they are different yardage per gram ratios.
Do I always need to make a gauge swatch?
I talk a lot about the importance of gauge swatches but the honest answer is no, you do not always need to make a gauge swatch. If you are making something that doesn't require a certain size or airiness of pattern, like a bag or a simple scarf, you don't need to do a gauge swatch.
How do I make a gauge swatch?
Most patterns have a simple gauge listed, such as 22 stitches by 18 rows is 4in/10cm square in stockinette. However, some patterns have an "in pattern" gauge swatch or a separate pattern/chart for their swatch. So you cast on however many stitches (I often cast on a few more than the swatch calls for, but you don't have to), and knit that many rows in whatever pattern is specifed. If it's stockinette, knit stockinette. If it's "in pattern," locate the repeating part of the pattern and knit the designated amount of rows. If there is a separate pattern/chart for the swatch, knit as directed. Bind off. Don't measure on the needle, it will lie to you.
Then, you want to treat the swatch how you'll treat the finished object. If you're not going to block the finished object, measure it as is. But if you're going to block the finished object (and most things you should tbh blocking hides so many sins), you get the swatch wet, pin it out to shape, and then leave it to dry.
THEN! And nobody talks about this step for some reason and it's been the reason swatches lied to me in the past. Unpin it and let it rest. Different people give different time amounts for this resting. I'd let it rest at least three hours but some people recommend up to a week. The reason for this resting period is that many yarns, especially wool and other animal fibers, have elasticity to them. They'll rebound back a bit. Cotton and linen will have less rebound than things like wool. I'm not 100% sure where acrylic falls on that scale since I hate the texture of most acrylics.
OK I made and blocked the swatch and let it rest, what do I do now?
Now you measure! Does your stitches/rows ratio match up with the pattern designer's? Compare your gauge to the listed gauge. If it is different, you need to adjust needle/hook sizes. If your swatch is larger than the given measurements, your gauge is too loose and you need to go down one (or several) needle/hook sizes. If your swatch is smaller, your gauge is too tight and you need to go up one (or more) needle/hook sizes. At this point you can say "it's probably just one size up/down" and start your project, or you can repeat the entire swatch process. If unsure, repeat.
That's cool, can we see an example?
Sure! Here are two swatches I have pinned out.
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I didn't follow my own advice about swatching and just started the Sapphira Lace Shawl on the recommended size 4 needles, but I got all the way through the first repeat of the body chart and then frogged the whole thing because my gauge was so loose you couldn't even see the pattern.
The Sapphira Lace Shawl has a separate pattern just for the gauge swatch and says "gauge is not important, swatch in lace pattern and use comfortable needle size to achieve airy lace that is not too holey." Too holey means that the stitches and yarn overs are so loose you cannot properly make out the pattern at all. That's what happened when I used size 4 needles.
The swatches you see here were knitted on size 2 (top) and 3 (bottom) needles. I knitted the bottom swatch first but was unsure if I liked the result so I went down another needle size and knitted a second swatch.
You'll notice the size 2 swatch is smaller and it's easier to make out the design. The stitches are smaller and denser, so the places where decreases and plain knit stitches are grouped together are easier to see. Versus the size 3 swatch where the stitches are looser and it's a bit harder to make out the design, though not impossible. On size four needled my stitches were so loose you couldn't really make out the design at all. With these swatches pinned out, I personally like the size 2 swatch better. However! That may change once I let the swatches rest for a while!
This yarn is an alpaca/silk mix. Alpaca is known for stretching out and not holding its shape. It's not ideal for lace. Silk is very good at holding its shape, but not very stretchy. I'm hoping together they make an okay yarn for lace because separately neither is my preference for lace. It was what I had on hand that was dyeable. Alpaca has some elasticity so it will spring back once I unpin it and let it rest. At that point, I may like the size 3 swatch better. I won't know until I get there.
I'll try to remember to post pictures of the rested swatches tomorrow to show if there's any difference. I might work up another swatch on size 4 needles to show what "too holey" looks like but that's more of a "how to knit lace" educational swatch than a "how to knit swatches" educational swatch so I might not bother.
That's it, that's the post. I'm sure my knitting mutuals will have comments and things to add so check the notes.
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gatorbites-imagines · 28 days
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I had this idea, because I was doing some crochet.
A reader who had made a lot of crochet stuff for all the X-MEN (most of it was requested from them to the reader) and Logan noticed everyone had something handmade except him. His bratty side kicks in and he wants something from the reader. (though the reader can make him a cardigan cause he is a grandpa or like a glove that has holes for his claws so he doesn't reap them apart) you can go feral with it 👀
Scott Summers, Kurt Wagner, Remy LeBeau, Robert “Bobby” Drake, Logan Howlett
Headcanons
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Theres too many x-men, so I just,,,added my faves *blush blush* I also decided to write a little thing for everybody, like my CoD posts.
Crochet was your passion, something to do in your free time when mutant-kind wasn’t in danger. And with online shopping, it was so easy to get all the yarn and different hooks, patterns and recipes you might need.
So, of course you also feel the need to make stuff for all the people you care about. After filling your own room and wardrobe with all the stuff you could crochet, your yarn empire started to fill your friends closets and rooms too.
Scott Summers
For Scott you end up crocheting a couple of hats, and multiple pairs of gloves. Some you already had laying around, and just decided to throw into the pile.
What could you say? You were scared he was gonna freeze his ears when he went around in his visor. This meant you crocheted different hats depending on if he wore his visor or his shades, hats that wouldn’t get too in the way.
It was a little hard for Scott to be a leader in the colorful creations you made, but everyone knew it was just your way of showing you cared. So, it made sense for the leader of the team to get the first gifts.
After a while Scott will wear the things, you make even if it isn’t too cold outside, even working it into his everyday outfits if he needs a little bit of accessories. Sometimes a hat really helps with the look, you know?
Kurt Wagner
For Kurt you make a scarf. It was a crochet of the moment. You two were on a stakeout, which took way longer than planned, in a pretty cold place. So, you pulled out your crochet stuff and started going at it.
Before you knew it, there was a comfortable scarf in your hands. You had been smart enough to dress correctly for the mission, but Kurt hadn’t, so of course the scarf when around his neck. You may also have scolded him a bit for not dressing right for the mission.
Kurt absolutely loves the scarf, and will wear it whenever its even just a little chilly outside. It makes you want to make him even more, especially when he starts getting sad about the first one fraying apart.
In the end he has as many scarfs as Scott has hats. One for every weather, in different colors, so he can match them with whatever he’s wearing.
Remy LeBeau(and Anna Marie)
For Remy you end up making him a hoodie, in his usual colors. It had mainly been a spur of the moment creation on your end, since you just had a lot of yarn in that color laying around.
It hadn’t even really been made with Remy in mind, but our beloved Cajun was quick to swoop in and take it off your hands when you weren’t sure what to do with it. and you, just wanting to make stuff for others, are more than happy to let him.
He wouldn’t wear it every day, but you do see him snuggle up in the warm yarn hoodie whenever it starts to get chilly. Hes also more than happy to use it as an excuse to snuggle with Anna Marie, using it as some kind of silly flirt.
In the end you make Anna Marie a matching hoodie, making it a little too big for her, as well as making it the same colors as Remy, so they can switch hoodies whenever they want. Its kinda like getting to hug Remy, in a way, so Anna Marie enjoys it.
Robert “Bobby” Drake
You make Bobby a blanket, it’s as easy as that. You actually end up making him multiple blankets. You didn’t really have an understanding if his mutation made him even able to feel cold, or if it made him feel extra cold?
So, the first blanket was placed by the door to his room, since you didn’t wanna invade his privacy. Bobby may not feel cold, but he loves the blanket anyways, especially since you try your best to make it in his favorite colors, or featuring different stuff he likes.
Its actually Bobby that asks if you can make him a second blanket, since he needs to wash the first one and has gotten so used to having the heavy yarn blanket on top of his other blankets at night. And you, being the great person you are, immediately get to work.
He ends up with a bit of a collection of blankets over the years, though most of them stay in his closet since he can’t really use all of them at once. He does pull them out when the x-men are doing movie nights and stuff like that though.
Logan Howlett
It took a while for Logan to realize he was the only one who hadn’t been given anything you crocheted. And… He’s not mad obviously, why would he be, it’s just crochet. He’s maybe a little jealous though, somewhere under all that gruffness.
He wouldn’t say anything, Logans way too proud for that, but he does start hovering around a bit whenever you crochet, just to look… nothing else.
There are also of course some jokes from the others about how he hasn’t been given anything, so you must not like him, or it’s because he’s always coming and going as he pleases so he’s never there at the right time to swoop in for the kill (whatever you made).
Of course, he denies hating you, or wanting anything you make. But the jokes just reach you, and it horrifies you somewhat. What if Logan really thinks you hate him? That would be the worst, because of course you don’t. the only reason you hadn’t made anything for him was because he wasn’t in front of your face, and you were a little scatterbrained when you made stuff.
You didn’t want to be too obvious about your plans, so you try to subtly get his measurements, and just kinda go off of that. Luckily the x-men system has some stuff you can use noted down. In the end you make him a nice grey cardigan, with those big pockets on the sides. It does not go above your head that it’s the kinda stuff you’d see a grandpa wear. But you think he would like it anyway.
Logan finds the cardigan by his door, like you leave all your gifts. And no, he doesn’t jump up and down or cheer, but he does give a more positive sounding gruff noise than usual.
He may also have been preening just a little the next day when he wore it, just because it felt nice to be thought about, okay? Nothing else.
It also just makes you happy to see him enjoy it so much, so you end up making him some other stuff too. Who’d have thought he would love blankets and throwpillows so much. It ends up in his “not a nest” bed pile. He also enjoys the gloves with holes for his claws too, so they were worth all the hard work.
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blackbearmagic · 27 days
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Ten, maybe more like twelve, years ago, I got a call from my friend Julie: "I have a bunch of yarn and I need to get rid of it. Come take as much as you want."
She had gotten the yarn from a coworker, who had in turn gotten it from her mother-in-law's estate. The woman had been an avid knitter for most of her life, and had amassed an absolute Smaug-load of fiber. Her daughter-in-law crocheted, but twenty contractor-sized trash bags of yarn was more than she alone could use. So she did her best to share it among fiber friends, like Julie. And Julie, having no need for that much yarn, sent out the word to all of her friends.
Much of the yarn was poor quality: old, dusty acrylic from brands long discontinued. There was some cotton mixed in, and a decent amount of wool. But I also found a plastic bag containing four loosely-wound balls of handspun. It was coarse and vaguely sticky, but I was intrigued by it, so I added it to the bags I took for myself.
And ever since, that bag of handspun has sat in my stash. It's gone through two moves with me. I kept telling myself I would make something out of it, but never did. The texture unnerved me. It wouldn't make a good hat, or scarf, or gloves. Nothing that would touch the skin. But I didn't know what I could do with it.
But last week, I decided it had sat for long enough. I had found, and made, a nice vest pattern with some of my own handspun. Surely this coarse yarn could be made into the same: an outer garment, worn over something with sleeves and a collar. I would make it to use up the yarn, and if I hated the end result, I would throw it in the donation box and make it someone else's problem.
As I wound the yarn onto my niddy-noddy to measure the yardage, though, I saw it in a new light. With my more experienced eyes and knowledge of spinning, I could see now that sections of it were under-spun, or over-plied. The twist was irregular, the drafting inconsistent. This wasn't just handspun yarn. This was likely someone's first or second attempt at spinning.
A chore became an honor.
I held an untold, unknowable story in my hands -- a story that had run up to a dead end. The sheep had been sheared, its fleece prepared, cleaned, carded, dyed; the roving had been spun into singles, plied into yarn. And there the yarn had sat, unused, waiting. It was time to finish the story. It was time for my hands to play their part.
It wasn't exactly pleasant. The yarn, as I said, was sticky and coarse. It left grease on my hands that soon picked up dust and dirt from the yarn, staining them. But I finished the task, and in the end, I found myself with a garment that... actually, I really quite like. One that I think will see a good bit of wear come autumn.
To the unknown spinner who made this yarn, I say: Thank you. Thank you for your labor, your time spent in our shared craft. I wish we could meet; I wish I could show you what your yarn has finally become, after so many years of waiting. I hope you are pleased with what we created together.
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sexilene · 4 months
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MORE 80s SLASHER JOHN B!! PLEASE I BEG
YESSS OFC!!! (sorry about any misspellings, ignore em lol!)
₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - pinv, slight gaslighting, violence, death, spanking, drowning, dark!john b but also kinda sweet john b in a concerning way lol- ₊˚⊹
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john b watched you from afar, sitting on a picnic table in the shade making yarn bracelets with some of the kids in his group, his eyes never leaving your figure for more than a few seconds. you were chatting away with one of the other counselors and a few of the little girls in your group. the little girls were teasing you and the guy, richie, by asking if you were boyfriend and girlfriend and to "kissss" each other.
"no way am i kissin' him! i happen to think that boys are pretty gross don't you think?" you smile playfully, placing your hands on your hips.
"awwe come on! i'm not gross am i?" richie pretends to be offended and places his hand over his heart, making the little girls giggle.
"mm hmm, you sure are!"
you squeal when richie suddenly lifts you over his shoulder and walks towards the shore of lake like he's going to throw you in. john b decides that's enough and jogs over before richie can throw you in. 
"hey man, put her down…wouldn't want any accidents right? the nearest emergency room isn't for a few miles, and the camp hasn't got the best first aid." john b warns, squinting his eyes and tilting his head, almost like he's implying something else.
"we were just kiddin' around johnny!" richie laughs as he sets you down, your feet touching the sand again.  john b clenches his jaw at the nickname and nods like he understands.
"s'alright johnbee, got him just in time!" you smile, trying to relieve the tension between the clearly upset brunette and the cocky red head.
"alright girls! how about we go see if we can use the finger paints now?" you ask the group of little girls who nod and agree, two of the girls taking your hands and leading you back up the hill, leaving john b and richie there.
the next morning, the older kid group and their counselor decide to use the canoes for a morning activity. as they make it out onto the lake one of the kid's ores smacks against something causing all the kids to look at the water. the boy in the front then points to the object, yelling out a loud "HOLY SHIT!". there, floating face up, is richie's blue, dead body, with some froth present around his nostrils and mouth. 
you stand outside with the other counselors in pajamas after keeping all the kids away from the area and doing activities elsewhere. the paramedics take richie away in a body bag and your heart sinks, john b stands behind you, the warmth of his body and just the smell of him somehow calming you down a bit.
"what do you think could have happened to him?" you look up at john b with wide teary puppy eyes, worried he might have something to do with it since the…incident. 
"i dunno sweetheart, he must have gone out for a late night swim, probably accidentally drowned…" he wraps his arm around your front and you bring your hand up to place over his.
"let's hope we can get through the summer without the parents pulling their kids out," he whispers. 
"johnbee?"
"hmm?"
"you didn't- you know…" he just sighs and attempts to pull you back into his embrace, but you won't get any closer until he answers your question. when he only looks at you and doesn't say a word you start to walk away from him, and back to your cabin, confused and frustrated. but of course that doesn't go well with him, he won't tolerate you walking away from him like that, so he follows you and enters your cabin room behind you and shuts the door.
"lisetn to me, hey hey, look at me. i know you might still be a little scared of me but you don't need to be. okay?" he starts off gently, trying to level with you as calmly as he can be.
"ohkay…" you sigh and turn to look at him, you really don't want to have this conversation with him right now after being overwhelmed with so many things happening at once.
"i'd never do anything to hurt you, m'just trying to keep you safe that's all."
"i know…" you whisper
"good. that's why i do the things i do…i have a responsibility to watch out for these kids and when i think someone is dangerous then-"
"i don't want to hear you say it…" you interrupt him and shake your head with tears springing at your waterline. john b knows how you get when you feel conflicted or rather overwhelmed, he's seen it before when you get stressed while dealing with the kids.
"okay, alright…hey c'mere," he pulls you into a hug, his bulky body effectively enveloping you as you press your cheek to his chest.
"you really scared me that night-"
"didn't mean to bub, i promise not to do that again." he sighs, shaking his head though you can't see him.
"i really liked you."
"liked?"
"i- still do, s'just that-" you ramble.
"hey hey stop, breaaathe…breathe for me. let's do something okay? something to calm you down a little, y'gonna let me do that for you?" he soothes, bending down to meet your teary eyes. the minute you make eye contact with him you nod.
"words." he chides, needing to hear you confirm that you wanted it.
"yes, yes john b.." you whisper shyly.
"'m gonna take these off, aaand these pretty panties," he whispers gently, taking you through what he is currently doing. sliding down your little pink sleep shorts and white cotton panties, the fabrics pooling around your feet. john b then takes off his loose-fitted cropped sleep shirt and tosses it to the side, nodding his head over to your bed. he takes your hand and guides you over, taking a seat and lifting you up onto his meaty thigh.
"just gonna sit you on it and its gonna relax you alright?"
"its not gonna fit,"
"fit last time." he laughs through his nose and pulls himself out of his plaid pajama pants, you looked down at his dick, much bigger than you remembered and your cunt already began to clench around nothing. picking you up like nothing, you wrap your arms around his neck, john b impales your drippy wet cunt on his huge cock. the stretch making your eyes roll back momentarily and muffle you your cries on the skin between his shoulder and neck
"shshsh, its in, its in…" he coos, rubbing your back. "just turn your brain off bubba."
as soon as he can feel that you've relaxed and adjusted to his size he starts to move your hips back in forth with a gentle grip of his huge hands.
"i did kill riche, i had to do it to protect you baby…it's my job." you mewl at his confession and clench around his dick, earning a low groan out of him. he knew you wouldn't really register what he was telling you but at least he wouldn't feel guilty since he did just tell you the truth.
"jus' don't want you to hurt me," you whine.
"never, never…love you so much," he assures you, now using his strength to bounce you up and down slightly.
"don't gotta think about anything bub, just let me do all the work." he looks down and the bulge that presses against your lower stomach, making him hiss and squeeze the meat of your ass roughly.
"reall-really like you jombee…" you cry, tangling your fingers into the back of his hair, trying to keep yourself grounded as he bounces you on his fat cock.
"need to hear you say you love me, baby." he grunts, smacking your ass cheek harshly.
"love you, love you somuch, i really wanna cum please!" you squeal as he continues to use your sloppy wet pussy.
"i know bub, whenever you want, m'right there." john b stops bouncing you and lets you sink back down on him fully, then presses his thumb down hard on your clit. you mewl out pathetically as you cum and pulse all over him until he fills you up from just feeling you cum on him.
"fuck, so pretty, my pretty puppy." he smiles and presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wipes away the tears that happen to fall down your face.
"y'feel better now? hmm?"
"mm hmm…" still seated on him, leaking cum around the base of his dick, you hazily drop your cheek on his shoulder.
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theenbyroiderer · 1 year
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One more tutorial. I think this is the last one I have for now.
Here's how you stitch a 3D jellyfish. This is a more advanced tutorial. Prior experience with most of the stitches is recommended.
Materials: You'll need several needles, at least one shorter and one really long. I've used sashiko needles in three lengths, 4 cm, 5.5 cm and 8.5 cm. As for yarn, I think you can use whatever you have. Most of it can be done with six-stranded floss, but you'll need some thicker woolen yarn for the fluffy turkey stitch. I used fine d'aubusson (a fine wool embroidery yarn) for the body, six-stranded floss (2-3 strands) for most of the tentacles, a shiny silky embroidery floss for the edge of the body and a couple tentacles, and knitting yarn scraps for the turkey stitch.
Stitches: satin stitch, bullion stitch, padded satin stitch, buttonhole stitch, drizzle stitch and turkey stitch. Please look up stitch instructions on youtube, and do a bit of practice beforehand. This project is probably not a good practice run for these stitches.
Time: depends on the size of your jellyfish. I made quite a large one and it took me about 5 hours to complete.
1. Make a sketch of your jellyfish. At least of the body. Fill this body from edge to edge with bullion stitch, make them a bit longer than the body is wide so that they are somewhat loose. You should be able to get a finger underneath the bullion, depending on the size of your jellyfish.
2. Then it's time to satin stitch the body. For this part it's important that the needle goes through the fabric as close to where it came up as possible. The goal is not just to make a 3D body, but to make it a hollow 3D body. Don't just stitch over the bullion, stitch around it. It's also important to not pull too tight. Bullion stitch of this lenght is rather malleable, so it's a bit tricky to keep the satin stitch even. Hold a finger in the hollow underneath the bullion as you pull the thread tight. This will stop it from getting to tight, as well as make sure you keep the hollow. As the stitching gets thicker the hollow will get smaller, but that's ok.
3. When the top part of the body is fully stitched it's time to do normal flat satin stitch for the bottom part, the inside of the body of you will. Leave an opening in the middle though, you'll need some space for the drizzle and turkey stitch later.
4. This is a good time to give the edge some definition. Do buttonhole stitch around the top edge, then you go around and do another row of buttonhole stitch, kinda the other way around, through the loops from the first row. Hopefully you can see from the pictures what I've done. The bottom edge of the body doesn't need defining and won't be very visible anyway, so I just did some sloppy stitches along there and called it good enough.
5. Now it's time for the tentacles. Start with the drizzle stitch, because the turkey stitch will just get in the way if you start with that... but do remember to leave space for the turkey stitch underneath the drizzle stitch. This is where you need the loooong needle. Pack as much drizzle stitch on that needle as you can. You'll notice that the drizzle stitch wants to rotate around your needle as it gets longer, do let it, that will just help you fit more stitch on there, as well as give the finished stitch a nice curl.
6. When you think you have enough drizzle you can move on to the turkey stitch. You will not need to do a lot of it. You'll probably overestimate how much you need, but that's ok, you can always give the fluff a bit of a haircut later. Do a few looong loops of turkey stitch, a little bit longer than your drizzle stitch. Cut the loops to slightly different lengths, otherwise you'll get a very blocky bit of fluff... tapered is better. Untwist the yarn and separate the strands, draw a needle through the strands to fluff them up.
7. As a finishing touch you can add some long and thin strands around the edge of the body.
Edit: Tfw a post has been up for years before you notice that you forgot a whole-ass step. Apparently #4 has been missing all this time. Oh well.
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astonmartinii · 2 years
Text
love languages | charles leclerc instagram au
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
charles and y/n show off their love languages, gift giving and words of affirmation.
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 661,083 others
charles_leclerc: sometimes facilitating your girlfriend's hyperfixations works out
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yourusername it's defo better than the cupboard full of yarn from when i wanted to start crochet
charles_leclerc you're a much better dj than crocheter (sp?)
landonorris you're coming for my brand
yourusername hush child i've been playing guitar hero since before you were born
landonorris you're two years older than me?
yourusername i was a cool fucking kid
danielricciardo so all i'm hearing is flat party
yourusername if you bring the alcohol i'm down
charles_leclerc it's literally my flat?
user223 they're my parents omg
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 40,133 others
yourusername: who said boys don't like flowers?
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charles_leclerc i love anything from you <3
user521 the way they just use their instagrams to flex their relationship
user762 like we get it you're happy LEAVE US ALONE
landonorris you posted your rizz on instagram ???
yourusername it's called a love letter loser
landonorris cringe
yourusername just say you're lonely and bounce
charles_leclerc you guys good?
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charles_leclerc posted to their story
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[caption: learnt how to bake because there's no good cinnamon rolls in monaco for y/n]
carlossainz55
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[caption: ever want to feel lonely? sit with charles when he's on the phone to y/n}
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 773,087 others
charles_leclerc: happy birthday to the love of my life, you've changed my life more than you can know. with only a few races left this season, we can celebrate properly soon xx
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yourusername i love you so much charles, virginia woof and i shall be cheering for you all the way til the end xx
user12 god when is it my turn
user44 i beg she gets to give a radio message if charles wins in abu dhabi
user77 OMG PLEASE I NEED IT
scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n!!! looking forward to seeing you in abu dhabi
user404 it's happening ITS HAPPENING
yourusername added to their story
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[caption: nowhere i'd rather be, believe always]
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 1,076,223 others
charles_leclerc: what i'm feeling right now can't be put into words. we've been working for this my whole life, sacrificing so much and losing so many people. i can't say it doesn't hurt not having them here to see it, but i know they're proud. to the tifosi, i am beyond happy to bring the championship back to maranello and take ferrari back to where they belong. y/n has always said my love language is gift giving so consider this my gift back to you for all the support you've shown me over the years. and finally to y/n, you're not only my escape from racing at home but also my focus on the road. i take your letters to every race and will always think of you when i cross that line, i love you and this championship is just as much yours as it is mine. forza ferrari
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pierregasly congrats calmar!! everyone is so proud of you
yourusername this is yours charles, and yours alone. you've worked for it, you deserve it. i'm so proud and honoured to even be a part of your journey. i love you.
charles_leclerc i hope you're ready for three months of nothing but me
yourusername i can't wait
scuderiaferrari CONGRATS CHARLES FORZA FERRARI
user16 omg he actually did it !!!! congrats charles
user689 her radio message, they're really in love man
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, daniel ricciardo and 70,458 others
yourusername: thank god i got my nails done. no joke i love you so much charles, i can't wait to write you letters for the rest of my life.
view all 17,842 comments
charles_leclerc i'm glad i booked the right nail salon. no jokes i can't wait to buy you random shit for the rest of my life.
user44 OMG HE DID IT
pierregasly congrats!!! bagsy best man
carlossainz55 that'll be me actually
arthur_leclerc it's me actually
yourusername you know he already asked seb right?
user88 so do we think he planned to wait until he won the championship to propose or?
charles_leclerc i did want to wait, but i was proposing this year no matter what, needed her to be mrs. leclerc as soon as possible
user88 AHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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Text
The Lost 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of loss, grieving, death, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: nomad!Steve Rogers
Summary: You move into a shared flat and encounter a mysterious man.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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When your shift ends, you leave the shop, heading down the same way you came. You stop at the corner of Mason and think better of going that route. You take that man’s advice and go along Doxtator instead. It’s quieter, there aren’t as many businesses so not as many people loitering and tossing cigarette butts.
You come up to the shared house and enter through the side door as usual. You wouldn’t call it routine yet, you haven’t been there long enough, but a ripple of deja vu comes over you. You keep your head down as you enter the kitchen. As you do, there’s another person in there.
You don’t know if you should say hello. You haven’t seen this man before. He must be one of the others. He pulls a box of rice crackers out of the cupboard and ignores your presence. You follow his lead and don’t say a word as you set your bag on the counter and pull out the drawer. You write your name on the few items you got from the store before you left; a box of cereal, a carton of milk, and some packets of ramen.
You put it all away as the other resident traipses off down the hallway, shuffling footsteps reverberating off the shabby walls. You shut the fridge as you hear the outside door open and shut. As you turn, the other man enters; the big one with the shaggy hair. S as you think of him.
He nods at you as you fold up the paper bag and shove it in the bin. He goes to the cupboard and opens the door. He sighs and takes out the same box of crackers as the last man. He shakes it and tuts. You see then the S marked on the side.
You leave, not wanting to get involved. You feel bad that someone else took his food but you also don’t need the drama. You hate conflict. At least now, you know to watch your things. Maybe later you’ll sneak out and retrieve your ramen so you can preserve a few meals.
You’re not very hungry. Your appetite is sparse these days. Maybe it’s this place. You can’t quite settle in, maybe because you hope it’s only temporary. Yet, you can’t say if that’s because you’re holding onto hope that by some miracle you could go back to your former life or that you might even forge a new one.
You lock the door and turn on the standing lamp. You fold your coat over the metal frame of the bed and sit to untie your shoes and peel off your socks. You change into a loose pair of sweatpants and a plain tea with a Pepsi logo on it. Not your clothes, another set of charity tatters.
You lay down and stare at the wall. You used to have a television in your room. You’d watch the old sitcoms they replayed on the public access channel. Or you’d listen to music and knit something. You had at least a dozen scarves more than you needed. You might be able to afford some needles and yarn after your first pay.
The cone of light casts a low haze through the tight space. Your eyes slowly close as thoughts of shutting off the lamp fade into your subconscious. You’re asleep before you can feel yourself drift off.
🚪
You wake to a strange sound. Your eyes flick open to the yellow lamplight as you lay stiffly on your back. You groan as your cramped muscles tug. You stretch and the bed frame creaks with your movement.
The scratching continues. You’re not surprised. You would expect mice in a place like this. There were some at the shelter too. They mostly left you alone, just skittered by as they searched out crumbs.
It gets louder as you sit up, tilting your head as you try to loosen the knot between your shoulders. You stand slowly, daunted by the pang across your hips. The mattress is thin and you can feel the frame on the other side.
“I know you’re awake, sweetie,” the voice startles you as it slips beneath the door. You stop your arm midreach as you go to click off the lamp. You peek over and see the shadow shift under the door. “Sweetie? I can see your light’s still on, why don’t you open the door?”
You don’t know the voice. It’s pitchy and uneven. The sickening tune behind it makes your stomach wrench. You stay far from the door as the handle jiggles, the deadbolt keeping it from opening.
“Sweetie. I just wanna talk. You don’t have to open the door. Just talk to me…”
You hug yourself and gulp. There were men in the shelter who tried to talk to you, the ones who got too close, who would stand over you while you slept. You were lucky they went away when they were caught.
There’s another shift and the floorboards groan. You hear an odd scuff and see something slide beneath the door slowly. Little by little. It’s a hand mirror, just thin enough to fit. Oh my god.
“Sweetie, I wanna know your na–”
The click of a mechanism and the grind of hinges interrupt your unwanted visitor. The mirror stills and the floor creaks again. You chew your lip as you listen with bated breath.
“Oh, hi,” the same voice greets someone.
“Go,” the deep voice orders gruffly.
“You can’t make me–”
“What are you doing out here?” The other man asks. You recognise S’s timbre.
“N-nothing. I live here too. I can be in the halls,” the strange man responds.
“I’m trying to sleep.”
“I wasn’t making noise.”
There’s a pause. Footsteps follow, getting closer, and you hear the squeaky voice utter a ‘no’ as the mirror wiggles slightly then is kicked further inside, scuttling over the floor.
“What the hell?” S growls, “you leave her alone.”
“I wasn’t bothering her–”
“I know what you were doing. I know who you are. What you are. So go before I crush you like the worm you are,” S’s words make even you shrink in fear.
“Ha, you think you deserve her. Because you look like you do,” the other man accuses, “you don’t scare me.”
“I don’t care if I scare you, I’ll break you in half if I see you at her door again,” S sneers and there’s a thump on the door, followed by an ‘oomph’. “Got it?”
“Got… it,” the breathy hiss chokes out, “let me go.”
A sudden scramble of footsteps, as if thrown off balance, clatter across the floor. They continue, quicker and quicker until you can’t hear them. You hear a sniff, then a sigh. A shadow appears at the bottom of the door.
“Hope you’re okay in there,” S says, “I’ll keep an ear out for that creep.” He pauses as if waiting for an answer but you can’t find one past the hammer of your heartbeat, “have a good night.”
The floor groans with his weight as he retreats and his door gently clasps. You can’t move. You lean into the wall and let your legs fold as you slide down onto your bottom. You’ll leave the light on for tonight. You don’t think you can face the dark.
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pinbones · 5 months
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Gummigoo free crochet pattern
FREE pattern at my Ravelry link and under the cut! Pattern includes photo references.
My boy is done! I started making myself a Gummigoo right after seeing episode 2 of The Amazing Digital Circus. While I was making it I realised that you guys might want one too. This doll and this pattern weren't nearly as tough to make as I thought they would be, and I really enjoyed making them.
PDF now edited to remove typo and add another couple of photos.
Pattern and photos under cut!
You need:
(less than) 50g/150m of the following colours of yarn: white, yellow, green, brown
3.5mm hook
Stuffing
Pins
Scissors
Special stitches used:
Picot: chain 3, then slip stitch into the back loop of the first chain.
Bobble: Yarn over. Pull up a loop, yarn over and pull through two, do 4 more times until you have 6 loops on the hook. Yarn over and pull through all six. Pull stitch a little tight.
Triple bobble (regular bobble stitch but twice as tall): Yarn over twice. Pull up a loop, yarn over and pull through two, yarn over and pull through two again, do 4 more times until you have 6 loops on the hook. Yarn over and pull through all six. Pull stitch a little tight.
Double decrease (a decrease over 3 stitches): Pull up a loop through each of 3 stitches, yarn over and pull through all three.
HEAD (white)
1. 6sc into a magic ring [6]
2. 6 inc [12]
3. sc around [12]
4. 2sc, 2 dec, 6sc [10]
5. 2sc, 2inc, 6sc [12]
6-8. sc around (3 rounds) [12]
9. (2sc, inc) x2, 6sc [14]
See special stitches for how to do a bobble stitch -- it's five double crochets to create one stitch.
10. 4sc, bobble stitch, 2sc, bobble stitch, 6sc [14]
11. 4sc, bobble stitch, 2sc, bobble stitch, 6sc [14]
12. 1sc, dec, 6sc, dec, 3sc [12]
13. (2sc, dec) x3 [9]
Stuff.
14. 1sc, dec) x3 [6]
Cut a tail long enough to sew with. Thread the yarn through the front loops of each remaining stitch and pull to cinch the hole shut. Leave the tail out until needed for sewing.
BODY (white)
1. 6sc into a magic ring
2. 6 inc [12]
3. (5sc, inc) x2 [14]
4-5. sc around (2 rounds) [14]
6. (6sc, inc) x2 [16]
7. (7sc, inc) x2 [18]
8-10. sc around (3 rounds) [18]
Stuff as you go. It's hard to stuff long pieces at last minute.
11. (7sc, dec) x2 [16]
12. sc around [16]
13. (6sc, dec) x2 [14]
14. sc around [14]
15. (5sc, dec) x2 [12]
16. sc around [16]
17. (5sc, inc) x2 [14]
18. sc around [14]
19. 1sc, 4dec, 1sc, 4inc [14]
20. 1sc, 4hdc, 9sc [14]
21. 1sc, 4hdc, 9sc [14]
22. 1sc, 2dec, 9sc [12]
23. 4hdc, 8sc [12]
24. 2dec, 8sc [10]
25. Dec, 8sc [9]
Finish stuffing.
26. (1sc, dec) x3 [6]
Cut the yarn, cinch the hole shit and hide the end.
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Connect the head to the body at the very back of the bottom of the head. It should face forwards levelly with the torso erect (90°). The head and neck should connect smoothly at the back to the body.
OVERLAY (yellow and green)
Start in yellow.
1. 6sc into a magic ring [6]
2. 2sc, inc, 2sc. Leave last stitch unworked. Picot (chain 3 and slip stitch into the back loop of the first chain) and turn. [6]
3. 6sc. Picot and turn. [6]
4. 4sc, inc. Leave last stitch unworked. Picot and turn. [6]
5. 4sc, inc. Leave last stitch unworked. Picot and turn. [6]
6. 2sc, inc, 1sc, inc. Leave last stitch unworked. Picot and turn. [7]
7. 3sc, inc, 1sc, inc. Leave last stitch unworked. Picot and turn. [8]
8. 3sc, inc, 2sc, inc. Leave last stitch unworked. Chain (not picot!) and turn. [9]
9. 4sc, inc, 2sc, inc. Leave last stitch unworked. Chain and turn. [10]
10. 4sc, inc, 4sc, inc. Chain and turn. [12]
11. 10sc, dec. Chain and turn. [11]
12. 9sc, dec. Chain and turn. [10]
13. 4sc, dec, 4sc. Chain and turn. [9]
14. 9sc. Chain and turn. [9]
15. 9sc. Chain and turn. [9]
The next row will start colour changing to green. Always hide yarn on the wrong side of the work. There will also be a triple bobble (same as a bobble stitch but with triples -- see special stitches).
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Bobbles aren't exactly sharp, but neither are gummy spikes tbh.
16. (Right side is facing you, hide yarn at back:) Inc, 3sc, triple bobble stitch, 2sc, change to green, sc, inc. Chain and turn. [11]
Careful not to skip stitches. Bobbles like to squish the stitches at the side of them and this makes them easy to skip while you're crocheting.
17. (Wrong side is facing you, hide yarn at front:) Inc, 5sc, change to yellow, 4sc, inc. Chain and turn. [13]
18. 3sc, change to green, 10sc. Chain and turn. [13]
13sc in green. Chain and turn. [13]
There will be no more yellow stitches. Leave enough yellow tail to stitch the yellow part on and cut the yarn.
19. 6sc, triple bobble, 6sc. Chain and turn. [13]
Again, careful not to skip stitches around bobbles. Count the stitches at the end of the row following a bobble.
20-22. 13sc (3 rows) [13]
23. 6sc, triple bobble, 6sc. Chain and turn. [13]
24-26. 13sc (3 rows) [13]
27. 6sc, triple bobble, 6sc. Chain and turn. [13]
28-30. 13sc (3 rows) [13]
31. Dec, 4sc, triple bobble, 4sc, dec. Chain and turn. [11]
32-34. 11sc (3 rows) [11]
35. Dec, 3sc, triple bobble, 3sc, dec. Chain and turn. [9]
36. Dec, 5sc, dec. Chain and turn. [7]
37. Dec, 3sc, dec. Chain and turn. [5]
38. Dec, 1sc, dec. Chain and turn. [3]
39. Double decrease (decrease over 3 stitches). Chain 1.
Pull enough yarn through the chain to stitch the green parts down and cut the yarn.
Pin the overlay in place. It should go from just over the tip of the snout to the very tip of the tail, and should fit snuggly and symmetrically. Remember to shape the angles -- the snout should face forwards, the tail should face backwards, the torso should be upright.
Pin the teeth individually if you have enough pins. This ensures the spaces between are visible when connected. The teeth may be uneven/asymmetrical on opposite sides of the mouth due to the way the picots stagger, but just make sure they're pinned and sewn okay and they'll look even.
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Note the shape -- it'll need to be bent like this when you fit the overlay on or it'll scrunch when bent later.
Sew! You don't have to go into every row, sewing every other stitch of the body should connect it okay with no glaring gaps. Make sure to sew with the correct colour of yarn tail.
Embroider on a couple of white eyes underneath the eyebrow ridges, with small eyebrows in white.
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The eyes are embroidered on with an eyebrow each.
ARMS (one yellow, one green)
Start with a magic ring and leave enough of a tail to attach the end. Leave this end hanging outside the arm.
1. 7sc into a magic ring [7]
2-6. sc around (5 rounds) [7]
7. 2sc, dec, 3sc [6]
8-14. sc around (7 rounds) [6]
Stuff.
15. sc, (picot, sc in the next stitch) x4, slip stitch into the last stitch. Cut the yarn and cinch the palm shut, not too tightly. Hide the end inside.
The green arm is sewn on the higher-green shoulder and the yellow arm on the yellower side. Make sure the biggest finger gap is facing inwards to the body, this is like the wrist.
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Leave a gap for the neck and match the arms to the shoulders. You'll find that the arms and fingers are a little bit posable.
LEGS (x2 in green)
Start with a magic ring and leave enough of a tail to attach the end. Leave this end hanging outside the leg.
1. 7sc into a magic ring [7]
2-9. sc around (8 rounds) [7]
10. 2sc, dec, 3sc [6]
11-13. sc around (3 rounds) [6]
14. 4inc, 2sc [10]
15. dec, 4sc, 2dec [7]
Stuff.
Cut yarn and cinch hole shut.
The legs should be connected at the hips with the legs pointing straight down and should connect closely at the top of the leg to make the hips look smoothly attached.
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The hips are not at the lowest point of the body, they're where the lower curve begins to happen when the torso is straight upright and the tail points backwards.
HAT (brown)
1. 8sc into a magic ring [8]
2. (2sc, 2inc) x2 [12]
3. 3sc, 2inc, 4sc, 2inc, 1sc [16]
4. In the back loops only, 4sc, dec, 6sc, dec, 2sc [14]
5-6. In both loops, 14sc (2 rounds) [14]
7. In the front loops only, (1sc, inc) x7 [21]
8. In both loops, 5sc, hdc, 2dc in 1, 2dc in 1, hdc, 7sc, hdc, 2hdc in 1, hdc, 2sc [24]
Slip stitch and finish off.
The wider part of the brim with the dcs is the front of the hat. Attach the hat by either tying a string under the chin, or by sewing a couple of inner rim stitches to the head to keep it in place.
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Sewn in place by two stitches at opposite sides of the inner edge. Yeehaw.
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Hat connected by its straps: non-canonical but cute.
And that's it! Gummigoo is done.
I love my lil guy. Hope nothing bad happens to him when I show my friend Caine
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buckys-little-belle · 12 days
Note
Oh! What about hcs for Bucky and little! Reader during the fall? I get cold super easy but I love the colder months!
Fall Fun
Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)
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Warnings - Talks of pumpkin carving, talks of Bucky being the Winter Soldier (Very very vague), Talks of (Bucky's) memory loss, Fall Fluff
Notes - I love fall! It's my favourite season and I had genuinely so much fun writing this!
SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.
. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .
Bucky loves the fall, it's his favorite season. He's not too hot, or too cold, and he finds he enjoys seeing how beautiful change can be. But most of all he loves all the activities the two of you can do together.
Most activities are ones done outside, and he is aware that you react to the cold different than him. Sure this is his perfect weather type, but you don't have the same super soldier blood he does.
So he keeps an extra jacket and sweater in his truck for you in case you're in need of an extra layer. He's also got a flannel blanket at the ready for long drives, and when buying the truck he made sure to buy one with heated seats. He never uses them, but with how often you turn yours on, he knows it was a worthy purchase.
He loves the pumpkin patch to an annoying extent. He could truly spend days there, especially with you by his side.
He has a whole seasons pass that allows unlimited corn maze trips, as many hay rides as he wants, and a total of 10 professional photos at those cute little stands where you stick your head through and end up being a pumpkin person. Trust, he has every photo framed around the house.
He also loves picking pumpkins with you, you'll give them all names and he'll do his best to remember which one was named Frank and which one was named Jeff. And he can't say no to you, he really can't, so the front porch of his house is home to 20 pumpkins by the end of fall.
He only lets you carve three, because he know you'll get bored if he tried to get you to do more. You tell him what you want them to look like and he'll do his best to sketch and carve the pumpkin the way you like.
You'd never tell him but he's actually not very good at art things like pumpkin carving, and you think you could do a better job, but he won't let you touch the sharp carving tools so your kitty cat pumpkin is lopsided, the flower looks more like an explosion, and the classic pumpkin face carving has two very different shaped eyes.
Bucky has a Pinterest account, he does, and he always is looking for new things to do to entertain you and him. Which is how you end up in the middle of a forest collecting all types of different leaves, putting them in a small book to press and dry.
You love all the colours, and Bucky takes a bunch of photos of you playing in the leaf piles, or just photos of you walking through the pretty forest, and his favorite photo is the one of you holding two leaves up proudly with a big smile on your face. (They were the biggest leaves the two of you found that day.)
Bucky always makes you wear mittens even if you don't think you need them. You argue that they're winter accessories but Bucky won't have it. He buys you mittens with pumpkins on them, or little leaves, so they look cute. He secretly has a deal with the grandma two doors down, she knits him your mittens and he buys her copious amounts of yarn.
Also fall baking? Bucky isn't a baker, but he does his best when you suggest you two make cupcakes that look like pumpkins. They actually turn out well, but the kitchen ends up a mess! And Bucky vows to never bake again ... Which was a short lived vow because two days later you two are back at it again making chocolate chip cookies with orange coloured chocolate chips.
All in all fall goes well every year. And it's the only season Bucky actively records. You don't know this for a few years but he actually scrapbooks every fall. The books are in his office and he pulls them out when he needs to remember something good.
Pictures of you in the forest line a bunch of pages, some selfies of the two of you are tucked in there, and every picture taken at the pumpkin patch has a spot. Leaves that you two pressed are glued to the pages with care, and he makes sure to photograph what your carved pumpkins look like each year.
He finds he likes making scrapbooks. Once in his life he forgot everything important to him. And sometimes he wonders what he still doesn't remember because there's nothing to remind him. So he keeps these tucked away in case he ever forgets, he keeps them so no matter what happens he'll always have proof that he loved you, that you loved him, and that beauty can exist during change.
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ckret2 · 9 months
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On chapter 30 of The Writer Uses Misleading Graphics To Trick You Into Looking At This Fic About Human Bill Being The Shack's Prisoner: Summerween part 2! Bill wheedles Mabel into helping him make a costume. Mabel wheedles Bill into spilling some of his preciously-guarded secret backstory. Ford is kind of in awe.
Also there's like 4.5 drawings in this chapter. They're all very silly drawings.
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Bill wouldn't tell Mabel what his costume was—"I want to see who can guess it"—but all it needed was a brown bedsheet, a long red wig, cardboard (to be drawn upon), and flip-flop sandals.
The bedsheet was the easiest to acquire. Dipper's barely-worn brown sandals were just slightly too big for Bill but Mabel helped tie them on with yarn. the shack's cardboard supplies were still depleted from making Bill's triangle mask, but they could make do with paper and popsicle sticks. Mabel didn't have a red wig but she did have a blonde wig and red markers. Since Bill was, by his own reporting, terrible at drawing, Mabel offered to do the fancy artwork if Bill did the tedious task of recoloring the wig. He claimed he'd feel like a mortician putting makeup on a car wreck victim, but nevertheless accepted the deal, and they settled in around the living room table to get to work.
"So just a bunch of houses, right?" Mabel asked, starting on the first drawing.
"Ancient Greek-looking houses," Bill said. "So, marble and columns. Don't think too hard about the details—this is a 21st century American costume holiday, not a historical reenactment. You can slap columns on anything and call it 'Greek' and every human in town will buy it."
"Do ancient Greek houses have chimneys?"
"No," Bill said. "But adding one would be funny."
Mabel considered that, weighed up the value of historical accuracy against entertainment value, and decided giving one house a chimney would be funny. She gave the whole house a thick black outline in marker, and pulled out crayons in black, white, and whale blue to quickly add some light shading to the marble. 
Mabel didn't think she'd ever seen Bill focus so hard or so quietly on anything the way he did on coloring that old wig red. He was giving it more attention than he did his own hair: while his golden locks were a tangled, uncombed, soggy mass shoved dismissively over his shoulders, he was dying the cheap wig (and his fingertips) strand by plastic strand with the bright-eyed morbid fascination of a third grader studying a pack of ants as they disassembled a bird's corpse.
This was the longest she'd been around Bill without conversation—usually, you couldn't even walk into a room without him immediately chattering at you like the motion-activated animatronics at the Summerween store. It was hard to think around him. Bill didn't give you room to think.
What did Mabel think about Bill?
He was right, she was still mad about the mall. No—mad wasn't the right word—mad was his word—she was scared. She'd never really stopped being scared of him, if she was honest with herself. But everything he'd done that day, from tricking her into trapping herself to reminding her of almost dying, had just reinforced why she should fear him.
But. She thought he felt bad about it. And she didn't think she'd ever seen him feel bad about anything before.
Maybe that meant her experiment was working. Maybe he was changing. Yeah, he was still scary—but he was Bill Cipher, he had a lot of scariness to work through. He was moving in the right direction, and she wanted to encourage that.
He hadn't apologized for the mall; but, since he'd tried to make up for it at the time, and that was a sort of apologetic action, Mabel decided she could tentatively forgive him for that day—provided he continued to improve. Put him on forgiveness probation. And that meant they were on friendly speaking terms again.
Which was good, because the quiet was starting to get uncomfortable. She surveyed her art for something they could talk about.
After a couple of as-historically-accurate-as-she-could-imagine houses, Mabel had started varying up the designs by redesigning houses she could remember off the top of her head with columns and white marble. She'd made a stately marble Mystery Shack, and a columned-covered doppelgänger of the house with the terraced yard across the street at home, and then she'd decided to make a Greek-ish version of her own home. "Hey Bill. Have you ever seen my house?"
"In person? No. But it came up from time to time in you kids' dreams, so whether I've seen it depends on how accurate you think your dreams are," he said. "It has less plants and more windows in your brother's dreams than in yours."
Mildly disturbing answer, but not disturbing in the direction she'd expected. "What! You mean you haven't haunted our neighborhood or anything? I don't believe it."
"Do you think I spend all my time stalking random humans? Don't flatter yourself."
"Well, seeing it in dreams isn't good enough!" Mabel pulled over a blank paper. It was hours until trick-or-treaters showed up, they had a little time to waste. "I'll draw it!"
"Wow, really?" Bill looked up from his wig. "You're not worried about letting the big bad triangle see your house?"
"Come on! You already know where I live, right?"
Bill immediately rattled off, "1337 Fairview Drive, Piedmont, California, on the northeast side of the street where it's less hilly."
"Exactly—you creep. So who cares if you know what it looks like, too?"
A square, sky blue house with two stories and a triangular roof; a big living room window on the left, a covered door on the right, three windows on the second floor, and a chimney. Mabel had drawn her home plenty of times—but doing it for a friend (?) was different from doing it for a teacher or a librarian, and she put extra effort into the rose bushes under the living room window. She added her and Dipper's smiling faces in the upstairs windows and Waddles's face downstairs in the living room.
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"Waddles sleeps in the kitchen, but he basically owns half the yard to wallow in. This is my room, and here's Dipper's—I get three windows, but Dipper has the biggest window and a bigger room, so it's fair, no matter what he says—"
"Oh, you two have separate rooms now?" Bill was leaning halfway around the table and craning his neck to see the image right side up.
"Uh, yeah? Since we were ten?"
Loftily, Bill said, "I don't know how you'd expect me to know that. You both still dream about sharing a room."
Mabel paused and tried to remember how often she dreamed about Dipper in his new room. Sometimes she woke and was still disoriented to find her bed in the middle of the room instead of against one wall with Dipper's on the other side. "Huh."
She added a few more details—the front steps, the gate, the shingles. (Bill watched nervously as she pulled out the gray crayon to color the driveway—but she didn't notice how it had been tampered with.) She talked about her home, and in turn Bill told her weird things, like that Dipper often dreamed of monsters coming out of the fridge. When she finished, she autographed her name with a star on the "i" in Pines, offered it over grandly, and said, "Here, you can keep this!"
Bill accepted it without the customary effusive gratitude with which one ought to accept a generously-gifted original artwork from a 13-year-old prodigy. "What am I gonna do with it?"
"That's your problem!"
"Fair enough!" He checked his leggings for pockets and, when he didn't find any, set the page on the table by his elbow. 
Offering accepted. As Bill resumed coloring his wig, Mabel picked up another piece of paper and got to work on the next columned house. "What does your house look like?"
Bill stopped dead, looked straight at her, and said, "My what?"
What was weird about the question? "Your house! Or whatever you lived in before you came here. You came from somewhere before you tried to invade Earth, right? You didn't just pop out of somebody's dream."
Bill laughed. "Yeah I did!"
"Bill."
"4500 years ago the construction workers of Egypt had a shared nightmare about the immense tombs they'd spent the last century building—"
"Biiiill."
"—and when they awoke they found the combined psychic energy of their terror had spawned a sleep paralysis demon more powerful than Ra! So then I ate their souls—"
"Seriously, Bill."
"I'm being so serious right now."
Mabel rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine! I get it. You're embarrassed." She shook her head and returned to coloring.
She felt the combined spiritual energy of hundreds of imaginary Egyptian construction workers beating down on her face from Bill's eye. Like a laser. "'Embarrassed'?"
"Because you don't have a house," Mabel said. "I think it's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed! I don't think you're a loser or anything. It's just kind of sad—"
Bill snatched up a blank piece of paper. "You want a house? Fine! I'll show you a house." He grabbed up an orange crayon, muttering, "It'll put your stupid overpriced shed in California to shame— Where's the ruler—?" Mabel tried not to grin.
For several minutes, he was perfectly silent. Mabel glanced over to see him coloring with three crayons at once, only for him to shove a hand in her face and snap, "No peeking."
Mabel got through two more drawings before Bill slapped down his paper over Mabel's. "There! How about that?!"
She looked at the drawing, which Bill had helpfully labeled "Party Central!" in red crayon. A great stone pyramid so dark brown it was nearly black, with bricks outlined in brilliant gold and molten orange and fiery red, and a sharp multicolored X hovering above it—
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Mabel gave Bill a flat look. "This isn't your house, this is your Torture Temple."
"The what? Hey, is that really what people are calling it?! It's not the Torture Temple, it's the Fearamid!"
Despite herself, Mabel burst out laughing. "You named it the 'Fearamid'?!"
"It's a pyramid and humans fear it! It's genius. Portmanteaus make great names."
"What's a portmanteau."
"It's a word made from the unholy Frankensteinian fusion of two other words. Like getting 'electrocute' from 'electricity' and 'execute'!"
"Or 'romcom'?"
"Yeah, or that."
Mabel considered the drawing. "If you want to scare less people, you could call this your Bill-ding."
"HA! Oh, I'm saving that."
"Anyway, this isn't where you live," Mabel said. "You were there for like a week tops!"
"Yeah, before your great-uncle killed me. I'd still be living there if it weren't for you jerks." He stuck out his tongue.
"Come on, Bill. I showed you my house. Draw where you grew up or something!"
"What's wrong with the Fearamid?"
Mabel crossed her arms. "Why don't you want me to see your real house?" She raised her eyebrows at him.
Bill opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. "Eh, you know what? Why not. If you're gonna be so ridiculous about such a silly thing." He pulled over another piece of paper. "But if I don't have enough time to finish coloring this wig, you have to help me."
"Fiiine." She returned to her own drawings as Bill got back to work.
After a long silence—longer than he'd taken to draw and color the Fearamid—he said, "Okay, done. Here." And he pushed over the paper with one dismissive finger.
She eagerly accepted the drawing—and frowned. There was nothing on the page except for a straight flat black line, interrupted by three line segments of bright blue and a cluster of red and green dashes. "What is this?"
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"Where I grew up," Bill said, innocently, already back to coloring the wig. Mabel could see his mischievous smirk. "As seen from the front. Just like your drawing of your house. So we're even now."
Mabel's brows furrowed as she stared at the page in confusion. "What...?"
"You do know I'm from the second dimension, right? A universe that's flat like a piece of paper. I figured Sixer would've told you all about it by now." Bill picked up the drawing and held it between his and Mabel's faces, so that, viewed from the edge, all Mabel could see of the paper was a thin flat line. "What do you think the second dimension looks like to somebody in the second dimension?"
Mabel took the paper back, looked at the underwhelming flat line representing the front of Bill's house, and said, "I hate you." 
"We had the prettiest roses in the park," Bill said, pointing at the red dashes. "Crayon really doesn't do them justice."
"Shut uppp."
Bill laughed at her; but then, to her surprise, he said, "Okay, all right, I guess a big fancy 3D creature like you can't understand the nuances of two-dimensional sight. So, here." He flipped over the page. "Top down view."
The back of the page had what looked like a floorplan. A narrow room on the left, a large L-shaped room, a tiny room nestled into the L's top right corner, and a medium room on the right. Little shapes filled the rooms—furniture of some kind?—but she didn't see anything immediately recognizable like a top-down bed or table and chairs. Green and red spirals dangled off the bottom of the floorplan.
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"I'm no Edward Bishop Bishop, but it gets the idea across," Bill said.
She studied all the strange little figures in fascination, looking for anything familiar. She pointed at a few shallow bowls filled with blue sticking out of the wall between the L-shaped room and the tiny room. "Are these sinks?"
"Hey, you're pretty sharp. Sinks and the tub." 
"So the little room's the bathroom."
"Right again." Bill pointed out the rooms on the floor plan. "Master bed's on the right, kitchen and living room in the middle—and you found the bathroom—and second bed's on the left. That was my room! The one with a million books," he pointed at a wall with countless tiny multicolored lines coming off of it. "I was a big reader as a kid. I've always been an intellectual."
"Who was in the other bedroom?"
"I never really went in there, who cares." Bill made a dismissive gesture. "I think there were some desks and stuff in there too, but I didn't bother to draw them since I never used them." He picked up a yellow and a black crayon and added on to the drawing, dexterously turning the crayons in his hand to switch between colors without setting either one down. "I spent most of my time in my room." He'd drawn a little yellow triangle with an eye. He picked up a red crayon to point an arrow at the triangle and label it "Me!" "I didn't even have to leave the room to see the TV. The perks of psychic powers!"
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Mabel wondered which of the weird shapes was the TV; but before she could come to a decision, she was distracted by the scale of Bill drawn in his room. Maybe he'd just drawn himself big, but he seemed cramped in that narrow space. And he'd hardly have room to turn around in the bathroom without his corner smacking something. "It looks pretty small. Is that normal on your home world?"
"Ah, I rarely spent time at home—it was just a place to sleep between speaking engagements," Bill said. "I was always on tour. Living the life of the rich and famous! Hotels, jet planes, and tour buses!"
Mabel shot him an irritated look. "You said this is where you grew up."
"This is where I grew up! I got an early start making my fortune. I was already famous by the time I was, uh..." he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Developmentally, I think I would've been about equivalent to your age. Maybe a bit younger."
How much of all this was true? It didn't feel like a lie—and she couldn't see how he'd benefit from lying about any of it, except maybe claiming to be famous. So it probably had to be true. He'd actually made her a drawing of his house. Even after he'd complained about being so bad at art. She beamed at him. "Thanks, Bill. Your weird alien house is neat! I like the squiggly spiral flowers! Are they actually roses?"
"They were the flower that everyone mentions in poetry and that you have to bring home when your wife is mad, so, same basic function as roses," Bill said. "Fun fact, they grow in spirals so that they're pretty on the outside, but—"
####
"—but have more surface area to absorb sunlight on the inside," Mabel said, pointing at the flowers. "Alien biology! And the orange things are couches and the colorful box in front of them is his TV, and Bill says he could watch TV through the wall but he never really liked TV, he preferred live performances—maybe we should take him to a musical! And the little sideways cushions on the walls are their beds because gravity goes to the left because their house faces east—I have no idea why!—so, I guess that's their 'floor'? But if that's the 'floor,' Bill didn't explain why all his books were on the 'ceiling' without them falling off, and..." Mabel trailed off, giving Ford a concerned look. "Grunkle Ford? Are you okay?"
He was gaping at the drawing. "Wh—? Yes. Sorry. I'm just..." He shook his head in amazement. "I never even got that slippery eel to admit he has a calendar system, and you got the blueprints to his childhood home?"
Dipper said, "Yeah, this is amazing. How did you get this out of him?"
"Oh, I didn't do anything special," Mabel said casually. "Just drew our house and then suggested he was too scared to let me see his."
Dipper grimaced. "You showed him our house?"
"Don't worry about it! He already knows where we live."
"Of course," Ford said, taking a quick note in his journal. "Exploiting his ego. He's very proud; undermine that pride and he'll feel compelled to defend his honor." Ford had started goading Bill into giving away more than he meant to the same way. He wished he'd started doing it far earlier; but he'd spent so many years foolishly assuming Bill's pride was objective and justified that he sometimes forgot what an egomaniac Bill really was.
As Mabel had spoken, Ford had filled several pages with bullet-pointed half thoughts: dodges questions about the master bed—his parents' room?; no bed or bedroom for a sibling, he seems like an only child; "speaking engagements" is probably a euphemism, what was he doing to become a child celebrity; were his books his only childhood possessions or just the only thing he valued enough to draw; did he gain his "psychic powers" while amassing the power he needed to "liberate"/destroy his dimension? "Can I borrow this drawing to make a photocopy?"
"Sure! Don't forget the line on the back," Mabel said. "And you can copy the Fearamid, too! Did you know he named it the 'Fearamid'?"
"Oh yeah, I heard him call it that," Dipper said. "I think I recorded it in Journal 3?"
"I should've read that before we threw out all of Grunkle Ford's Bill stuff," Mabel sighed. She slid over the Fearamid drawing to Ford. "Bwop! He drew it tilting all weird to the left? He wasn't kidding when he said he's bad at drawing."
Ford studied the drawing and frowned. He lay his pen on the drawing to use like a makeshift ruler. "It's not 'skewed'—he drew the front face as a perfect equilateral triangle, and then extended a side on the right to turn it into a pyramid. It's poor perspective—there's no point of view from which one side would look like a perfect equilateral triangle and you could see another side, but..." He trailed off again as he made a note to himself about what this might mean about Bill's ability to perceive the third dimension and his artistic sensibilities.
"So he draws like Picasso!" Mabel concluded. "Oh! Bill mentioned a name when he gave me his house, he said he wasn't like Edward Bishop Bishop—and I remembered it because it sounds funny. Bishop-Bishop. Maybe he's another artist Bill likes? Or somebody who makes blueprints?"
"I'm sure I've heard that name. I think he was a mathematician?" Ford frowned. "I can't recall, though." He wrote down another note: Edward Bishop Bishop – mathematician/artist? Something to look up later.
Dipper glanced back and forth between Ford and Mabel as they talked, feeling his stomach sink at how excited they were and how easily they got along. First the mysterious disappearing crystal shop in Portland, now Mabel made this huge discovery about the guy Ford had spent years trying to learn about... Dipper swallowed hard and tried to tell himself he shouldn't feel jealous after he'd gotten Ford to himself for basically the past year. "I can't believe you found out all this."
Mabel immediately looked at him. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"
Dipper winced. He'd realized a moment too late how he must have sounded. Quickly, he said, "I mean, it's great that you did! Finding out more information about him is great. But, like... investigating the paranormal is my thing. It's what I spent all last summer doing, and it's my dream job, and... and now, the biggest paranormal mystery in human history is in our house, and you're the one getting all the info out of him?"
"Well, yeah," Mabel said. "I'm our official Bill spy, remember? I'm the one who made friends with him."
"I know, I know." He shrugged jerkily. "I'm just... kind of disappointed that I'm not prying eons-old secrets out of an alien demon. You know?"
Ford had paused in his writing to listen to Dipper thoughtfully. "I understand. When you're exceptional at something, it can be... difficult to share the limelight," he said. "Not because you don't think anyone else deserves it. You just don't know if you'll ever get it back."
Dipper's face heated up—he didn't want Ford to think he was bad at sharing, of all things—but he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." Ford patted his shoulder understandingly. 
"Aww," Mabel said. "Didn't you say that if we're running an experiment on being nice to Bill, you want to be in the control group?" She punched his arm. "Welcome to the control, bro!"
"Ow!" Dipper rubbed his arm and laughed weakly. "Yeah, okay, you're right. This is what I get."
Mabel said, "You should try talking to Bill! Maybe he'll tell you stuff too. He's really easy to talk to as long as you don't mind him sometimes saying creepy nightmare things."
"And as long as you're prepared for his mental tricks," Ford said.
"Yeah! Grunkle Ford's got a whole class for that," Mabel said. "He'll teach you about the BITE model! It's how cults sink their teeth into you!"
Dipper chuckled. "Sure. Maybe I will. We're gonna be at home handing out candy for a few hours, maybe I'll find an opportunity to interrogate him."
"You're not going trick-or-treating?" Ford asked.
"No," Mabel said, with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.
Dipper elbowed her for her theatrics; they'd already agreed on what they'd do tonight. "We've got plans with friends. But we do get to wear matching costumes again."
"Creepy ghost children!"
"Ah," Ford said. "That explains your..." He gestured at them. They were wearing a suit and a dress, old-fashioned and gray, with tattered hems and dusty black dress shoes.
"Barty helped us put the outfits together," Dipper said.
"We still need to do our makeup," Mabel said. "What about you, Grunkle Ford? What are you doing for Summerween?"
"Ah." He glanced toward the ceiling ruefully, as though he could see The Enemy in the shack through the many layers of dirt above. Summerween had been one of the things he'd missed most about Gravity Falls; even during his years as a reclusive scientist in the woods, he'd usually taken off Summerween and Halloween to hand out candy to the children bold enough to visit his house.
But Bill's eagerness to participate had sucked the fun out of the day. The thought of celebrating Summerween in the same house as Bill felt too much like celebrating with him. "Nothing, I suppose. I was planning to stay down here." He gestured at his desk. "Continue my research."
"What are you working on right now?" Dipper asked.
Ford quickly said, "Nothing. Just—the same research," and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Remember what happened last summer when you tried to keep secrets about Bill out of embarrassment? Reluctantly, he said, "I've... split some research duties with Fiddleford. While I'm waiting to hear back from him, I'm looking into—some magical knowledge Bill revealed. To determine how much of it's true."
Dipper looked puzzled. "Revealed when?"
Mabel slammed her hands on Ford's desk. "Grunkle Ford, you can take a break from gathering intel on the enemy for one day! It's Summerween! Promise me you'll do something to celebrate before the day's over."
Ford let out a huff, but smiled. He wanted to do something. Surely he could come up with something that would let him avoid Bill? "All right, I promise. I won't invoke the Trickster's wrath tonight. Could you leave your costume makeup in the bathroom when you're finished? I'll find something to do with it."
"Perfect!" Mabel hugged him; then grabbed Dipper's hand. "C'mon, let's finish getting dressed. The trick-or-treaters will be here any minute!"
"Okay, okay." Dipper waved at Ford as Mabel dragged him to the elevator.
When they were gone, Ford turned back to the papers Mabel had given him. Bill's childhood home... Assuming he wasn't lying, at least. But an entire blueprint seemed like a complicated spur-of-the-moment fabrication even for him. If Bill was lying, it was a lie close to the truth.
It was strange to imagine Bill as a child with a bedroom full of books. Strange to imagine Bill as a child at all. What did a young triangle look like? He couldn't imagine anything different from how Bill always looked.
The floorplan did look small. Smaller even than the apartment over the pawn shop had been. Ford tried to remember what the homes he'd seen in Exwhylia had looked like...
He raised his head as something the kids had said registered. "Barty? Who's Barty?"
####
While Mabel was downstairs, Bill inspected her box of crayons.
The wrapper around the gray crayon was coming loose.
He took the glue stick they'd been using to reinforce the paper houses with popsicle sticks and carefully stuck the wrapper back on.
The house was too quiet without anyone around to talk to. He hated the quiet.
From the corner of the living room behind the table, when Bill leaned on the wall, shut his eyes, and listened closely, he could faintly hear the hidden elevator. He headed upstairs to stow the drawing of Mabel's house somewhere safe, and then went to the downstairs bathroom to finish dressing for Summerween.
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(Y'all I worked hard on those fake crayon drawings. Anyway I know we're all collectively going insane today over the book news but if you took time out of your day to read this, I'd love to hear what y'all think!)
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mothyandthesquid · 9 months
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Things people say to me online. I couldn’t figure out what this person wanted as they were a winner of free yarn that had to be collected at a show (no postage was a condition of the prize) and kept telling me they didn’t know if they should go or not. They gave so many reasons why they shouldn’t, and seemed to be asking me to decide for them.
After a week of them sapping my energy with daily DMs, I suggested they should choose the option they preferred. All hell unleashed itself upon me from her keyboard. I am rude and uncaring and she doesn’t need to be told what to do (then why ask?), and my communication style is not good enough, etc. Well, I said I was autistic and doing my best and that’s when she said I never shut up about autism and “I don’t care how autistic you are!”. Nice. Blocked, obv.
A chat with someone neurotypical and it dawned on me that she’d spent a week trying to manipulate me into sending the freebies (specifically against the t&c) and had gotten frustrated when I though she was having a genuine dilemma and tried to help. I wonder if she realised that was why it didn’t work or just wanted to lash out?
I stand for not being a dick to people who have communication difficulties, or any other type of disability or difference. I also think I should be big enough to own up and apologise when I get it wrong. And being autistic, I get it wrong a lot!
This colourway is neon pink and black. It differs from “Black Tulip” because it is UV reactive and has no purple, only pink. This makes a beacon of brightness and a striking statement (or brash and socially inappropriate, if you prefer). That’s the thing with autism, it’s both beautiful and ugly to live with. I love my differences and my neurodivergent friends and allies, but I see more than average of the nasty side of people who feel slighted for reasons I did not intend and do not understand.
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coffeeghoulie · 4 months
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Mushy May Day 13: "Just Wanted To Hear Your Voice"
Timezones apart, Mountain and Aether share a late night/early morning phonecall.
Thank you very much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for the divider. <3
(this could also be for the long distance extra prompt but i digress, enjoy the fic)
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Aether wakes not to his work alarm, but to the drum fill in Respite, his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He shoots up, scrambling for it in a half awake haze. He fumbles to accept the call, pressing the phone to his ear.
"Mount?" He slurs, tongue not fully cooperating yet. His mind struggles with the timezone conversion, the rest of his pack, minus Sunny, halfway across the world. "'S gotta be late over there, what's goin' on?"
There's a deep sigh on the other end, made tinny through the speakers. "Hey, Aeth. There's no emergency. Sorry if I woke you."
"Don't apologize," Aether says, tension easing from his frame as he settles back in bed, phone pinned to his ear by his shoulder as he adjusts a blanket. He doesn't have to be to the infirmary until two hours from now. There's time. And if there wasn't, he'd find a way to make time. Anything for them. "I'm awake, sweet thing. How was the Ritual?"
Another sigh, edging on a groan. "Really fucking long. I don't even want to think about how many more of these we have left. I haven't had a chance to be outside for more than five minutes in a month, nova."
Aether hisses through his teeth in sympathy. He knows second hand what being cut off from one's element feels like, a phantom pain you can't quite shake. Quintessence is everywhere, so Aether's never experienced the loss of it himself.
It's easy for the rest of them to recharge; air a constant, water everywhere on Earth, fire easy to sate with heat. Dew's preferred method of recharging is near-boiling showers, taking advantage of hotels and venues and running their hot water bills sky high. It eases both his fire and what remains of his water.
Earth is a different story, especially when the pack is moving from city to city with barely room to breathe. It's always taken a toll on Mountain, but he takes it like a champ. Though Aether will always, always, always let him vent, knows how satisfying it is to let off steam.
"I'm sorry, Mount," he hums, clearing the sleep from his eyes. He'd been dreaming, something too realistic, almost able to trick his mind that he hadn't been asleep at all, that his mattress had been warm with three ghouls' worth of body heat instead of one.
"Why'd you think it's your fault?" Mountain chuckles halfheartedly. "You in charge of scheduling or somethin'?"
Aether hums. "Maybe. You don't know," he teases. "It's late over there, Mount. You want to hang up and get some sle-?"
"No!" Mountain cuts him off suddenly, distress sharp in his tone. "No, Aeth, please, don't make me hang up."
Aether can't see him, can barely sense their bond, stretched thin with distance. He can imagine it though, the way his shoulders slump, eyes pressing shut. "Not going to make you do anything. Talk to me, sweet thing. Anything you want, just let me hear you."
Mountain sighs, and he can just barely pick up the sound of a hand dragging down his face, scraping against his stubble. Mountain normally likes a clean shave, itchy, regrowing stubble an easy way to send him into a sensory overload. But being on tour makes it difficult to keep up with the upkeep. He wonders when their next hotel day is.
"Cue's halfway through her third blanket," Mountain says slowly. Aether doesn't need to feel the bond to feel the exhaustion seeping into his voice. "We made a stop at a craft store a few days back, she came out with a literal armful of yarn. Every color under the sun. I think she cleared out an entire color's worth of baby blanket yarn. She said something about making one for Aurora."
Aether hums considerately, reaching with one hand to the purple and navy blanket that had been pushed aside in his sleep. Still as soft as the day she had shyly handed it to him, the second one she had ever made, only a few months' summoned. She's come out of her shell since, but Aether rubs the yarn between his thumb and forefinger and remembers anyways. "Aeon's gotten theirs?"
There's silence for a second, and a quiet spew of Ghoulish cursing. "Just fucking nodded like you could see me," Mountain laughs, exhausted. "The second one she made was Aeon's."
"They like it?" Aether asks, biting back a yawn, tail going ramrod straight as he stretches his back. There's the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled back, and Mountain groans softly before the curtain is pulled again.
"Had to make sure they were still out there," he explains. "They're currently burritoed up in it on the couch with Swiss."
"Don't get up and do it now," Aether says, chuffing at the mental image of the new quintessence ghoul all cozy. "But in the morning, if they're still wrapped up, send me a picture, will you, sweet thing?"
A soft chuckle. "Of course, nova. Thank you."
"What for?" Aether says.
"I dunno. Just wanted to hear your voice."
Aether chuffs, reaching for his glasses. It's almost time for him to get up out of bed. "Thank you, too, then," he says, sliding his glasses on one handed. "I miss you all terribly."
There's a long sigh, which changes halfway through into a yawn. "I don't want to hang up, Aeth." His voice is as small as Aether's heard it in years, not since the last time the pack was thrown into upheaval.
"I know, Mount. I know. But you still need to sleep, sweet thing. Call me in the morning?" Aether offers, knowing that he'll probably be on his break by the time Mountain wakes, ever the early riser.
"I'll call you in the morning," Mountain says, still a little hesitant. "I love you, nova."
Aether smiles. "Love you too. I'll talk to you soon."
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