#but if I'm going to knit test gloves I'm going to knit nice enough ones that maybe someone else will like to have someday!

[new-ace-on-the-block]

A really important part of pattern writing is testing, which has been going on today. I have made a few adjustments to the length calculations based on this test run

Tiny Dinosaur on scales for scale

I really love how these colours go together in a scattered gradient, there are five different colours but aside from the fairly clear bronze zone they blend quite subtly!

Do you love to colour of the gloves?

[charliecraftsthings]

Fingertip Gloves ver 2.0

Ever since I modified these gloves, I've felt they still needed improvement. As someone who doesn't know how to knit (yet), I'm still searching for how to make The Perfect Texting Glove.

On those first gloves, I cut some fingers too low, leaving too much bare finger exposed. I made a second pair, where I cut the fingertips higher, and those were great--until it got too cold out and I realised I had nowhere to hide my fingertips!

My latest idea is to cut a little slit in the finger, so I can poke my fingertip through, and pull it back if it's too cold. I'm using conductive fingertip gloves so I can still use the touchscreen, but can unlock my phone with the fingerprint scanner if I want. It's almost like my fingertips have hoodies!

Instructions after the break.

At first (light grey edging) I tried cutting the fingertip and then reinforcing. This made the slit bigger and sloppier than I wanted; when weaving in the ends, I used whipstitch to try to keep the opening tidier and prevent fraying. I might go over the reinforcement with a fuzzy haloed yarn.

On the second glove (blue), I used surface crochet before cutting the slit. This turned out much better! The margins were cleaner, the slit was narrower, and the whole thing felt better.

You can see the differences better when there's a hand inside:

Materials:

Gloves you want to modify

A thin yarn or thread for reinforcing the slit (I use Lang Jawoll Reinforcement Yarn)

A tiny crochet hook (I used 1.25 mm)

Embroidery scissors or seam ripper (something to making tiny, precise cuts)

Needle for weaving in ends (thinner than tapestry or embroidery needles)

Optional: method or marking the slit

Instructions:

Put on the glove and figure out where you want the slit to go. Generally it should fall at the finger joint or slightly higher. Mark its position.

Make a tiny incision in the middle of where you want the slit. Use embroidery scissors to snip one "leg" of the "V" the knitted yarn makes.

Using the reinforcement thread, make a slip knot on your crochet hook. Make sure to leave a long enough tail for weaving in (1.5 to 2 needle-lengths).

Use the tiny incision to begin surface crocheting (slip stitch through the fabric) around where you want the slit. You're drawing a perimeter.

After one round, do a second round of slip stitch, working in the back loop only (or however you wish).

Join and fasten off, leaving a long enough tail to weave in.

Take a deep breath.

Use the embroidery scissors or seam ripper to carefully, one stitch at a time, cut open the slit. I like to snip one leg of the "V", then pull out the second leg. I don't know if this is the best way, but it's how I do it.

Test the glove. If the slit needs widening or tightening, now is the time to do it.

When it fits nicely (like a glove, you might say), weave in your ends.

Text and unlock with impunity!

[jolalibrary]

you don't learn

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader (COD MW22) 18+, minors do not interact. WC: 1.2k A/N: Be nice, this is the first time I wrote for this man and my s*m*u*t is never my strongsuit. masterlist for ghost.

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You don’t learn.

And you don't listen. Least of all to him.

That’s all he's thinking as he chases you down, his strides far longer than yours. Not that you’re accepting defeat. 

Because, of course, you aren’t. 

Today, you didn't do it in the field. Your eyes see something Soap didn't, charging forward, almost getting a bullet through your shoulder. You saved his life, yes. But, you also ignored him.

You broke his order. Making him almost lose his breath for a millisecond as he stills, watching a bullet rush past you.

Now, you had the audacity to be pissed at him.

Even if it was you who told him once you arrived back on base, in a hushed whisper, so no one else could hear, "It's okay to admit you were wrong, Lt." Before lunging out the vehicle, storming off.

So, now he followed for many reasons. One of which was because you couldn't have the last word.

Your boots hammer down the empty corridor with as much determination as him. Ghost’s gloved hand is almost within reach, his door approaching his left, so he widens his stride. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

Ghost’s hand connects with your upper arm, gripping it with ease as he both turns you and opens his door, dragging you in before kicking it shut behind you both. 

Wrenching your arm free from him, eyes burning him as you step back. 

“You want to repeat that, soldier?” 

Your eyes scold him, or attempt too. Shaking your head, a fury of thoughts running through your head—he can tell. 

He can read you like a goddamn book. 

Which is how knows your palms will connect with his chest, brows knitted as you try to move him—even a centimetre. But he doesn’t. 

His frame remaining exactly as it was, swallowing, closing the gap as he captures your wrists in one hand. Something you clearly hate more than you expect from the look in your eyes.   

“Don’t be a fucking brat.”

“A brat?” you hiss. "I saved his fucking life. If anyone is being a brat, it is you."

"I'm warning you."

You lift your chin, straightening your spine. "Warn me then, Lt. Fucking warn me."

His spare gloved hand grips your waist, pulling you flush to him, causing you to squeak. Fingers spreading, digging down as you whimper, and he cocks his head.

You tried to blink it away, but he saw it.

He saw that you wanted this too. That the tension wasn't all in his fucking head. You felt it.

Testing his theory, he lets his thumb lifts the thin fabric of your T-shirt. And he feels you shudder, your eyes attempting to disguise how much your body is betraying you. 

Smirking, he drops his face closer, running the edge of his mask against your neck—scratching against you, making it known he’s there.

“Oh, I can warn you, princess. I can give you a fucking good lesson,” he says darkly, his hot breath dancing over your neck.

You try to shove him again, glaring more purposefully, finding him moving even less from where he stands. But, it's not as determined, he can tell. An act, a bad liar.

Ghost slides up his mask just enough to show you his smirk, that condescending smirk of his he knows you hate. The one you guess is there even in the field, even over the radio when you're not even close. 

“You know what, go fuck yourself, Ghost.” 

“Or,” he snaps, gripping your hip tighter, walking you back into the stone wall as you hiss, “I can fuck you.”

Your eyes blink, anger disappearing and he feels you shift. “W-what?” 

One quick glance, and he spots your legs firmly together, his smirk appearing more than it was before 

“Is that what you want, princess? Do you want me to fuck you?” 

You hold his gaze, eyes flicking briefly to his lips. 

“I think you do," he snarls, pulling your hips against his. "Use your words. That’s an order.” 

Swallowing, you jut out your chin. “Y-yes.” 

"Yes...?"

Your jaw tightens. "Yes, sir."

Fucking hell.

He’s quick. 

Hearing you gasp just as his lips capture yours, stealing the rest of your words. Lips sliding together, teeth close to lips as a hand roughly grabs your cheek, the one on your hip moving to undo your belt. 

All he focuses on is that you’ve stopped fighting and shoving, resting your fingers against his chin, sliding them up along his jaw as your kisses turn messier and more desperate.

“I shouldn’t—“

“If you know what’s good for you, princess, you’ll keep your mouth shut,” he utters, his deep voice vibrating through you as he pops the button open on your trousers. “I don’t want to hear another word outta you, you hear me?” His lips sliding up your jaw, breath dancing along your ear. “Not unless it’s because you’re begging or moaning my name.” 

Your eyes flick to his, and he hopes you see the warmth in them, the lust dancing in the darkness. 

“Which is Simon, if you didn' know.” 

His teeth bite his glove off before sliding his hand under your underwear, your whimper mixing with a breath as he smirks. 

“I know your goddamn name,” you bite, trying not to moan at his touch. 

Tilting his head, he tightens his jaw. 

“You want me to stop?” His fingers pausing, hearing you whimper, your eyes suddenly full of anger again. “I will if you don’t stop with the cheek.” 

You say nothing, swallowing your words. 

Ghost runs the tip of his nose along your cheek, the highest part of his face showing, before he feels you shake your head, and he presses a chaste kiss to the side of your lips. 

“Look at me,” he whispers, his finger descending until he’s sliding two inside you, feeling your slick walls tighten around him, “Now, soldier.” 

Your eyes are beautiful. 

The way your lips curl as he continues to pump them inside of you. 

“Fuck… You are something else, princess. Y'know that? Y'know how fucking perfect you are? 'Cause I don't think you do.”

"Simon..." you whimper.  

Your slick coating his fingers through his gloves as he continues to tease, hearing more whimpers, more moans. Your eyelashes flutter, his thumb capturing your clit periodically, hearing the hiss in your moan when he does. Your moans falling so quickly from your beautiful lips, feeling your walls tighten as you get closer and closer. 

His mouth latching onto your neck, sucking and nipping, leaving marks everyone—including you—will see. He feels how close you are, how much you’re still trying not to give in. 

So he wrenches his hand back. 

Smirking as your mouth parts, eyes digging into him.

His hand silences you as yanks your trousers down, letting them pool at your feet. You breath heavy, as does he.

“You want this?” 

Silence. 

Ghost pulls his glove from his hand with his teeth, staring, waiting. 

“Do you want this?” 

He adds your name at the end. Your real name.

No alias. No teasing nickname. No princess or anything.

Your eyes lower briefly before flicking them up to hold his gaze, a devious smirk on your face. “Yes, sir.” 

He removes his hands, sliding them up and around your thighs as be lifts you around his waist, twisting the two of you to seat himself on the end of the mattress. Your thin underwear and his cargo’s the only barrier between you and him, even as you grind your core against the tent of his trousers. 

A dark chuckle escapes his lips, his hand holding you in place on his thighs. “Poor, princess. So desperate for a fucking?”

You whimper, head burying into his shoulder. 

“What do you want?” Ghost asks, feeling your nails dig into the back of his exposed neck as he slowly rolls your hips against him. “Tell me. Now.” 

“Everything,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, eyes shimmering with need and want as they meet his. “I want you to fucking break me, ruin me, fuck me so I can’t even walk. That’s what I want.” His lips press against your cheek, jaw and ear as you talk. “Fuck… please can you just…” your hands coming around, gripping his mask-covered cheeks. “I need you to fuck me, Simon.” 

It takes a moment, just for his name to really register. 

His name from your lips.

It’s sinful. 

It’s fucking everything. 

Which is why he flips the two of you, pressing your chest and stomach down into his bed—smirking as you instinctively arch your back, the damp patch on your panties on show for him as he strokes his cock over his trousers.  

“Atta girl,” he says, undoing his belt with a crack, dropping his trousers and boxers to the floor with a thud. 

tag: @munsonownsmyass