#but still I had the yarn brainrot from the beginning and

[viciousewe]

No offence to them but I just don't understand "trendy" instagram knitters

[guppygiggles]

Short little ✨thing✨ under the cut, because my brainrot over Avery is absolutely vicious at the moment, and I just had to spin a yarn over it. (Lee!Avery, foot tickling).

How would I tickle Avery? Oh, let me count the ways… 

If I could entreat him to put his large, delicate feet in my lap… Imagine, if you can, the softness of soles that scarcely ever grace the ground, for their light-footed owner’s penchant for hovering… as often as not, the shoes were merely a formality. Cool like porcelain, yet flushed cornflower at the pads and toes, you’d seldom chance even a glimpse at their tender undersides. 

Still, a sincere request would be dear enough to soften the sensitive cloud’s inhibitions; you’d need only ask, and he would stutteringly comply… even allowing you to remove his socks while he sat primly for you, submitting to whatever your designs might be.

I would not make him wait – starting at his heels, I’d drag my fingertips up the smooth length of his silky insteps, prompting a reflexive curl of his toes to accompany a bashful giggle. Dripping with sincerity, he’d be helpless but to titter out a “that tickles!” or “hey, wahahait!”, serving only to spur my hunger for his exquisite laughter.

My fingers would form gentle claws, beginning to scribble randomly along his pillowy skin, his feet wriggling in place with his effort to remain still. Shy giggles would yield to heartier laughter, his head tilting back as he filled the room with gleeful, unrestrained mirth. His knees would bend and twitch as he fought for control, hands curling into fists as they rested, trembling, on his thighs.

“Stay still for me, Avery…” I’d croon as I administered the playful torture, my spidery digits climbing up to his toes, skittering fiendishly into the soft valleys beneath. How he would howl, then… his body doubling forward as his arms moved to wrap around his torso, as if hugging himself would somehow assuage the tickly assault on his soles. With his ankles unfettered and heels resting on my leg, escape an evergreen option, the challenge would be self-imposed; how much could the compliant, shameless lee withstand? 

“You’re not ticklish on your toes, by any chance… are you?” A rhetorical question he’d bristle to hear, his eyes widening as that wonderful blue shade danced across his face.

“C-Casper, now, wahahait, you already know they’re… ah…”

I’d wait out his speechless squirming with infinite patience, watching the question tickle him inside. 

“They’re what…?” 

“T-ticklish…” He’d squeak, punctuating his admission with a tight curl of his pretty round toes.

“Oh, are they… Would it make you laugh, then, if I did something like this?"

My smooth nails would spring to life, scritching the pads of his toes, sending him into renewed, ticklish hysterics. Then, the delicious begging would start. 

“PLEHehehehease!” He’d whine, his feet squirming, shaking, and wiggling, one foot trying to shield the other, only to be doubly attacked with both sets of whirling fingertips. Then they would switch, the hidden foot dutifully taking its turn to endure the onslaught of affectionate torture.

“Please what?” I’d ask, knowing that sentence was one he’d never finish… and we both knew why. 

“CAHAhahahasper!” Desperation would cling to his voice as he’d cry out his response, glistening tears forming in the corners of his half-moon eyes, a warm, resounding belly laugh echoing off the living room walls. 

Heart soundly melted like a popsicle in the summer of his delight, I’d finally show mercy, massaging away the ticklish tingles from Avery’s obedient feet. A deep sigh would roll from him, endorphins mingling with relief as he’d lean into the arm of the couch, slipping into a heady state of bliss. I’d watch him relax, allowing him to enjoy my soothing ministrations for a while… before eventually, softly interrupting:

“Don’t get too comfortable, peach… after all… we haven’t even gotten to your other spots, yet.”

[mixed-kester]

hello ms. esther! sorry for suddenly intruding, but i've seen you a lot on my dash n just wanted to say hi! and, well, to also give this tiny brainrot about u and wanderer in offering haha:

i don't know much about your personal lore, but seeing your art for throwaway-yandere's wood vs salt fic had me Thinking Thoughts. do you remember how in the beginning of wanderer-era, before he got his memories as scaramouche back, wanderer was pretty calm and nice? a little ditzy or, well, easily distracted sometimes, yes, but generally, he seemed like someone safe (or at the very least, like he wouldn't suddenly stab you in the back).

what if he met you while in this state? before the traveler found him and brought him back to the sanctuary of surasthana? what if he saw you and felt some dim, compelling force in the hollow of his chest where his heart should be (the lingering influence of irminsul, the all-encompassing obsessive love that scaramouche had for you you you—) when he sees you, a passing visitor in the grand bazaar, and quietly wonders if he's met you before.

now, this could go in many different ways depending on whether or not you remember him (even with irminsul's deletion of scaramouche's existence) and if he decides to do anything about that. one such timeline, like the wood vs salt-esque au, would be so interesting because, well, he doesn't remember pantalone ever being that close to you before. he doesn't remember you working for alhaitham either.

but you still look the same. still smile the same. still blush, huff, and laugh the same and wanderer can't help but cling to that (can't help but listen to the snake-like whispers just behind his ear to hold onto you, tighter this time, and make sure you'll never leave again).

some things are different. some things are the same. and all these unwanted anomalies are easy enough to correct, with or without his vision.

he's learned from the best, after all.

aaa this is very messy n all but i hope i got the idea across! if this isnt ur cup of tea that is very fine wdyhdbd but if nothing else, i would like to say ur art is very cool n ur ebg lore (at least the little i saw of it bc i had pre-mids that week) is very :eyes:

the object of my thoughts.

tags: wanderer, self-insert, situated inside @throwaway-yandere's Apotheosis on Your First Feast...kind of??? maybe??? an AU of sorts.

a/n: omg brain go brrrrr? welcome to my humble blog ajnsbvkjbhlka don't be shy to interact i don't bite- btw this fic is probably nothing like the ask aaaaaaa words: 1,072

The Grand Bazaar is as bustling as ever. Her nose gets hit with the damp, yet fresh air of the hidden city nestled underneath Sumeru's Great Tree.

At once, Esther hears the quiet, lively atmosphere of the merchants, the lingering tune of a song in Zubayr Theater (Sadly, Nilou will not be dancing today.), and the smell of freshly-made street food, minus the bugs that so happens to linger on the stalls.

This place almost ticks all her checkboxes of a "safe space".

almost.

She found herself sitting beside a food stall, waiting for her order to arrive. In Esther's defense, the food was quite tempting. Scented Meat Balls always have a thing going for her mouth. One moment it's there, the next…an empty platter and greasy hands.

A very pleasant experience, 10/10.

With nothing better to do, she rummaged for her shoulder bag and pulled out a small notepad. Some of the signatures are falling off, the purple yarn barely holding it together, and the handmade cover is dirtied with charcoal stains.

Carefully tightening the seams with a sigh, she then looked around, looking for someone to draw. She wouldn't want to ask someone for permission, no. She has to be discreet; quick, yet accurate.

The last time she got "caught", Esther was quite embarrassed, although her subject at the time was quite flattered and even offered some good critiques at her pose anatomy before being dragged off by Alhaitham, of all people.

Alhaitham, your current boss, and the current Acting Grand Sage of Sumeru. Who assigned you to Varanara, just six hours ago.

Vanarana, the supposed home of the Aranara, the children of the Lord of Verdure.

…the Lord of Verdure, and the successful rescuing of Sumeru's future.

A rescue that I refused to join in.

Esther shook her head in an attempt to dispel the frankly annoying and intrusive thoughts in her head. Quickly putting her notepad, aside, she thanked the waitress and tested the waters on the meat balls, still smoking.

Ow. Too hot.

Her eyes roamed around the bazaar like a camera, looking for interesting people to draw. Interesting poses to draw. A merchant selling fruits, a vendor calling for customers. Quite banal.

I spy, with my eyes…

I spy, with my eyes…

there!

Her hands fly towards the notepad, leaves ruffling as she attempts to find an empty page.

The slight off-colored white invites her in to draw the first line, to fill it up with her lines, to see the figure of a person, the someone she chose to draw.

Reaching out again, she tests if the balls are too hot. Feeling the warm, crumbly texture of the finger food, she eats one whole and quickly focuses on the task at hand.

She looks quickly.

He's not looking at her. Perfect.

She quickly dismissed the hat in her drawing. That thing is a pain to draw quickly, she thinks, instead opting for just an ellipse with shaded points.

She quickly deconstructs his relaxed figure, filling it up with more details as the platter beside her grows more and more empty with each passing hour

He doesn't look like he's from here, Esther figures as she draws the man's robes- kimono, she corrects herself- hanging loosely on his figure, making for quite the focus on his high-collared undershirt-

Esther chokes on a crumb. Coughing, she hides her face on her arm and shakes her head again. Taking a bite out of the meatballs, carefully this time, she erases the quite scandalizing abs on her drawing, scolding herself for the…distraction.

She tries to finish the figure without looking this time. A large gold ornament on his left chest… hair shaped like a weird bowl cut…red eyeliner…

hang on.

She glances again. He did not seem to notice, and was still facing away from her, talking to what she presumes is his boss. how did i know his eyeliner is red?

Her gaze lingers on the drawing, slightly smudging the freshly-drawn face as she traces its jaw. She thinks hard, her eyebrows furrowing, the tapping of her pencil serving as a pendulum for her thoughts.

think, think, think.

She tries to chase the thought, but it slips away from her grasp like a falling leaf amid a strong breeze. Whatever the thought is... she deems it not important.

Esther looks at her drawing again, and her grip makes a dent in the notepad. This drawing, this pathetic croquis of a figure...it's too ugly. It doesn't even shine a light on the guy. This drawing of hers is too disgusting to see the light of day.

The left arm is too long, the face is off, the torso is contorted unnaturally, the fingers are unproportioned, the face is off, the eyes are off, the eyes are off, the eyes are off-

…

She tears off the page, throws it on a random garbage bag, and leaves the bazaar in lower spirits than when she came. so much for relaxation.

If she dared to look back, the subject of her interest has filched the torn paper.

Behind the tree, his errand remained forgotten, the fruits on the forest floor as he traced every uneven line that captured his inhuman self, marvelling at the seemingly glorious art in his hands.

Why did she discard it? he can only wonder as he gingerly holds the paper like it's a treasured possession of his. He does not understand. Why did she throw it away?

Should he find her? He thinks about it, but then considers his chances. An unknown person asks for her, saying something about knowing her vaguely and asking to come with him? He might as well parade around Sumeru City with the biggest hat he could find, yelling loudly.

What name would he give her when she asks for it?

He is a shugenja; a wanderer, as he calls himself. A tree with no roots. Somebody with no home, no kin, no destination. Someone with no name, no identity to hang on with. Trekking across Teyvat to train himself...it's just an excuse.

That's how absurd this is.

So why is he so hung up on this one person who drew him in such a human fashion? What is there to her that piqued him?

Have we met before?

He sighs, and folds the paper, tucking it in his hat. He picks up the sunsettias on the ground, and makes way to the nearby river to wash it.

[crochetedblorbos]

“Sometimes the present and the past need to stay separate.”

Character Name: Dr. Aster Huxley

Fandom: Mnemosyne [Podcast]

Voiced By: Varis Zima

Yarn Used:       Hair: Red Heart Super Saver - Black       Skin: CraftSmart Value - Coffee       Shoes/Trousers: CraftSmart Value - Dark Chocolate       Vest: CraftSmart Value - Taupe       Shirt: Lion Brand Vanna’s Choice - Dusty Purple       Lab Coat: CraftSmart Value - White       Eyes/Mouth: DMC #310

Basic pattern here.

This man is an absolute disaster and we love him for it. The head neurologist at Mnemosyne Space Prison, Huxley is, in his own way, just as much a prisoner as the people he experiments on, and I for one am terrified of what’s going to happen in the rest of this season. (By the way, y’all are sleeping on this podcast - go and listen to it here.)

One thing in particular that I did with Huxley, mostly because I found out it was an option, is that he’s stuffed with black polyfill rather than the traditional white stuff. They had it at Michael’s and I decided it would work better for him. I also realized I pulled my stitches tighter with him than I did with Joseph, so even though I used the same yarn and same size hook, he’s still just slightly smaller than Joseph. Somehow, though, it feels fitting. Other ways Huxley deviates from the standard pattern are as follows:

Shoes: Like with Mini, I didn’t change colors for his soles, so his shoes are a solid dark brown. Otherwise, they are made exactly the same way as Joseph’s. The official art on the Brainrot Presents Patreon shows that his pants don’t quite go all the way to his shoes, so for R8, I switched to his skin color, ch 1, and sc in the back loop of each st around, then did R9 in the same color before switching to his trousers.

Trousers: I did the trousers the same way I did Joseph’s, just beginning with R10 instead of R8.

Vest and Shirt: I followed the same variant for Huxley’s sweater vest as I did for Joseph’s hoodie up until R51. In R51, when I got to the center front of his body, I switched to the shirt color for 1 stitch, then switched back to the vest color around. For R52, the first sc and first inv dec were done in the shirt color before switching back to the vest color. In R53, the first 3 scs were in the shirt color and the rest done in vest color.       R54: Switch to shirt color. Ch 1, sc in front loop of each st around, sl st in first sc (18 sc).       R55: Switch to skin color. Ch 1, sc in back loop of each st around, sl st in first sc (18 sc).

**NOTE: Because of the extra round for Huxley’s neck, all steps from this point on are one round higher than on the standard pattern.

Hair: I once again probably made this way harder on myself than I needed to, but it’s Huxley, so frustrating is kind of the order of the day. I essentially did the same procedure I did with Mini, with two key exceptions. One is that I did the weave all the way up his scalp - Huxley isn’t really the man-bun type - and the other is that, starting with R64…mostly because that’s when I thought of it…I started pulling from both ends of my skein of black (this is a terrible idea and I don’t recommend it if you have literally any other options) and using black for both the scalp and the hair. It probably made things unnecessarily complicated, but I decided I liked the effect. (After a while, things were getting super tangled, so I cut off a small ball from one end and used that for the hair bit.) I also accidentally did an extra round of straight sc in the middle because I lost track of where I was, so his face is a little longer than normal, but it works.

Arms: I did Huxley’s arms the same way I did Joseph’s (using the shirt color rather than the vest color), except that I didn’t do the row of back loop scs after front loop hdcs, so he doesn’t exactly have cuffs on this shirt.

I also put magnets in his hands. To get them to stay in place while I stuffed the hands, I put another magnet on the outside to just hold them in place. It worked.

Lab Coat:  I improvised this as I went, but it worked out. (I also didn’t write it down as I went because I’m an idiot, and trying to count it I have no idea what I actually did where, so.) Basically, I did a ch38, then did rows of dc back and forth until the rectangle went from Huxley’s ankles to his waist. At that point, I started doing an invisible decrease at more or less the midpoint of his back (or as close to it as I could get) until I got up to where his underarms would be. To make the armholes, I worked up to where I wanted them to be in dc, then did a ch 9 and skipped three stitches, joined with a dc, and kept going in the other direction. The next round I did a sc in each chain stitch but dcs in the dcs. I topped it with a row of sc, then another row of sc in back loops only to make the collar. For the sleeves, I joined the yarn to the outside of the armholes and worked six rounds of dc to make them long enough (six rounds was just about perfect).