#cable tie colors

[clariannt]

Nylon cable ties, often known as zip ties, are essential tools for cable management across various settings. Whether you're organizing cables in a home office, setting up a commercial wiring system, or handling industrial projects, selecting the right cable tie can make a significant difference. In this guide, we explore the different types of Clariannt nylon cable ties, their benefits, and tips for choosing the ideal size and color for your needs.

Webiste Link: https://clariannt.in/

[deerteatime]

you'd think thrifting a sweater would be relatively easy but no

[archangeldyke-all]

Reader who crochets? And she makes these special sweaters with the left sleeve cut out for Sev’s arm?? Omg

-🥨

ANON did u see logan @sevikasenby 's crochet tapestry of our wife!?!?? THE TALENT IS BEYOND

men and minors dni

there's a superstition in the knitting/crocheting community called 'the sweater curse.' the idea is basically that when you hand make a prospective romantic partner a sweater, you doom the relationship to fail.

you've read countless horror stories on crocheting forums about relationships going up in flames once a sweater is gifted.

'she called the sweater ugly after i spent a month on it.'

'he thought a hand-made sweater was too intimate and i was moving too fast.'

'they left with no explanation the same day i bought the yarn for their sweater.'

you've seen it all.

you know that the curse is something to fear. and you really don't want to lose sevika. but she's stubborn.

sevika thinks the fact that you crochet is so. fucking. cool.

most people think it's a grandma hobby.

sevika thinks it's the most impressive thing in the world. you can make anything. she's watched you knit blankets, sweaters, tops and socks. little stuffies for the neighbor kid next door, hats for your friends' birthdays. mug cozies, coasters, pillow cases and dog clothes-- she's seen you make it all.

and she's dying to have you make her something.

"don't you love me?" sevika whines one night as she cuddles in bed beside you while you crochet a scarf.

"can't stand you, actually." you grunt, already knowing what she's about to bother you about. she huffs.

"you don't understand baby. i was sooo cold at work today-- freezing, really-- and it's not like i can go buy a sweater 'cause of my ar--"

"you're so fucking annoying." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"is it so bad to want to show off my baby's work?" she asks. you huff, shaking your head.

"it is when it means we'll break up!"

she wears you down over time.

you start crocheting her little things, wanting her to feel loved but not wanting to subject the two of you to the curse.

you crochet her a little keychain charm on your anniversary; a hat for winter solstice. in the spring, you make her a few new scrunchies for her half-ponytails.

for her birthday, you give her the first big crochet project you've made for her: a purple poncho in a thick, warm yarn, perfect for the colder windy days when her thin red poncho isn't enough.

she cries when you show it to her. (she nearly gets heat stroke a week later when she tries to wear her new winter poncho on a blazing hot day.)

when you propose to her (kneeling in front of her where she sits on the couch kissing her hands, metal and flesh alike, as you bat your eyelashes at her,) sevika doesn't even let you finish the question before she's pulling you off the ground and into her lap, kissing you breathless, and pulling away with a sob. "yes!"

"you didn't even let me ask!" you laugh. sevika kisses you again.

"you have to crochet me a sweater now. make it white, i'll wear it to our wedding." she cries.

you don't do that. (though you do crochet the neck tie she wears on your big day.)

you wait until you've been married for a year, until you're settled in married life and comfortable, until sevika's not expecting it anymore.

and then, on the night of your first wedding anniversary, you give sevika her first sweater.

it's the most intricate thing you've ever made. the cable crochet pattern you used was complex and time consuming, but it looks fucking gorgeous. beautiful royal purple-- her favorite color-- her exact measurements, and sleevless on the left side.

sevika wears the sweater everywhere. all the time. whenever she can.

you only planned on making her the one, but her reaction (and the wear and tear the sweater receives from being worn by the scary woman of zaun) inspires you.

you knit her a new sweater, every year, for the rest of your lives.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

[megtrns]

seasonal anthologies ft. the mtmte bots, sfw !

summer is for celebrations and driving down to the beach with drift, where the air hot and thick despite the setting sun in the distance. you stick your head out the passenger window to feel the wind rushing past your ears, the excited roar of his engines bouncing off the cliffside. it's sitting on rodimus's shoulders as he runs past the shore, the spray of cold water making you squeal into the side of his helm. june, july, august — salt dissolves in your mouth while thunder rumbles in the distance. you sit by the steps of your porch with swerve, the air heavy with heat. as if the earth was holding its breath in anticipation, waiting to break and give way to rain. his big, blocky fingers awkwardly tearing through an orange for you to eat. saccharine and sticky, the fruit drips down your forearms with every bite. green is the grass between your toes, grey is the sky as it melts to nightfall. summer is when the mattress dips unequally to one side, where you and tailgate sleep back to back, skin to metal. the warmth sinks into your bone, blanket on the floor as the faint whirring of his systems lulls you to sleep. fall is for new beginnings, shorter days, and knitted scarves. where the sunlight is lighter and softer, casting long, golden shadows across ratchet's face. he displaces his mass to help you tie your coat by its belt, pulling you closer to soak in the heat radiating off his chassis��soft wool between his shiny servos. september bleeds into october, and somewhere between, where the air is so clean it shivers, cyclonus walks next to you in muted contemplation. optics quietly taking in the ocean of leaves crunching underneath his pedes. cinnamon between your teeth as you swallow your longing, fingers tracing over the holo-picture of skids. nautica says the muted colors remind her of him, but she blames it on the morning chill creeping past her cables. you tell her that fall is the season of reminiscing, of missing what is gone and what is yet to come — the ending and beginning of things, the place where all things come to die. the soil is soft and the world is asleep. this is the part where you turn off the lights and leave.

winter is for joy and relaxation, november a mosaic of warm orange windows and deep blue nights, where the moonshine falls thin and silver. minimus is determined to keep you from straying off the path, guiding you through the thick heap of snow — arms intermingled, hand and servo intertwined. your laughter rings into the night like bells, airy and light; a quiet wish, a happy prayer. for some, december is asleep. it's reclusive and shy, just like rung when he gives in to your request to stay inside, submitting to the weight of the duvet as it swallows you both. for others, the darkness only makes them vigilant. optics wide awake, prowl slinks back into the shadows, pale like the blizzard, soundless like a secret. early mornings and frozen lakes, megatron tells you the winter is cruel — barren and empty, silencing the earth. you disagree, telling him that winter is full of hope, where the snow is white with the promise of forgiveness. the promise to begin again.

spring is for waking up under the sun, where the light kisses your cheeks and shoulders; brainstorm suddenly envious of the star. you chew berries against the bark of an old, dying tree. skin buzzing with a new kind of energy, heart bursting at the sight of perceptor studying the small animals in the distance. in february, you stretch your arms to welcome a night of storms. in march, you patiently listen to whirl complain about the pollen in his cogs. finally, in april, the air is alive, sweet and rosy, laughing and singing. first aid lifts you with his open palm, across a running stream, down a winding, rocky path. somewhere behind you, misfire raises his helm to the clear, cloudless sky. drowning himself in the sound of strange birds and even stranger insects. there is a tenderness to all of this, capricious and fickle, flowers buried in the wash of green grass. a dream you don't want to wake up from, an embrace you're not ready to part with. nightbeat says he hates when beautiful things are fleeting, and you think he's no longer referring to the spring, optics sad and distant as they land on you.

[lewmagoo]

Celebrating Older!Bob's 50th birthday, and you ABSOLUTELY slut it tf up for him 👅👅

“happy birthday, mr. floyd.” your soft voice alerted bob to your presence. he lifted his head, only to find you standing in the doorway of his home office. you were dressed in a silk robe. deep blue, his favorite color, with feathers lining the cuffs. he could tell you weren’t wearing anything beneath it, from the way your nipples were peaked beneath the smooth fabric. he leaned back in his chair, mouth turning up into a curious smile. “why, look at you. dressed up so pretty for me,” he mused. it was sunset, and the final rays of sun were glimmering through the window, their light catching on the silver of his hair. god, he was regal. even dressed down in a pair of slacks and a cable knit sweater.

"wanted to give you one last gift," you replied, pushing off the doorway and sauntering toward him. eyes remaining on your approaching figure, he pushed his chair back from the desk, giving you space for whatever you were about to do. you perched on the edge of the desk, situated directly in front of him. "oh really? and what is this gift, exactly?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes. he didn't miss your mischievous smile. "i have something to show you." you rose to your feet again, stepping forward and reaching for his hands, beckoning him to untie your robe. he did so, skilled fingers easing the tie open with ease.

then you stepped back and let the silk fall to the floor in a soft heap. bob watched you through hooded eyes, biting his lip in anticipation. you turned, sliding open the top drawer of his desk and retrieving a velvet pouch. he'd never seen it before. sneaky. you untied the pouch, and then reached for his hand. you turned the pouch over, and into his palm fell a small bottle. he turned it over, reading the label, and his eyes widened. "what..." but before he could finish his question, you turned, slowly bending forward over the desk. that was when he saw it. a glimmer of blue in the waning sunlight. a jeweled plug.

you couldn't help but smile at his low groan. "honey, you're serious?" he asked incredulously. you looked at him over your shoulder, a knowing smile on your face. "i've been working on getting ready to take you. got a dildo that's close to your size. i practiced riding it whenever you were at work. been wearing plugs a lot too. i think i'm finally ready for your cock, daddy." bob was certain he'd spontaneously combust right then and there. he rose from his chair, stepping toward you, large hand coming up to part the skin of your bottom so he could admire the plug fully. "look at you. spent all this time working so hard so you'd be ready to take daddy. i'm so proud of you, angel," he praised, leaning down to kiss between your shoulder blades. "you have no idea how happy this makes me."

you smiled again. "i think i have a small idea," you said. then, you pushed your ass back against him. "i'm all yours, sir. fuck me however you like." you felt his fingers prodding at the glimmering plug. "oh, i will, darling. i will. just want to savor this for a few more moments. your sweet little ass looks so pretty with a plug inside it."

[blu3-ja3]

Civilian clothing? Absolutely and a little Treat as well! Enjoy Lovelies!

O'Connor: Long sleeves and covered neck always, even when hot. Shes insecure about her burn scar and has enough people staring at her for a lifetime. On a very rare occasion does she wear short sleeves and it's ONLY with the 141 around. She likes rich jewel tones and soft fabrics, if it's textured it feels horrible on her skin or it's too tight on her skin, she hates how it makes her scar feels when rubbing against it. She likes silver jewelry and simple makeup, a bit of gloss and her eyes (shadow, liner, cute wing, and mascara) her nails are always painted whatever colors the sergeants pick. A skirt with nice tights or leggings and a cute boot? Yes. A nice pair of jeans with a cute belt and her old black combat boots, classic. Her hair is up, braided, ponytail, bun or beanie. It's only when she goes somewhere nice does she have it down. Her bag always has her knife, a bandana, and a hair tie along with her phone and wallet.

Price: Lumberjack, lots of well fitting flannels and cable knit short sleeve polos. Nice slacks or jeans with nice combat boots and a well kept leather belt. Nice wrist watch that was a gift from Ghost. Bucket hat that matches his flannels color, he originally only had two but Gaz found a color matched bucket hat for each shirt the man had. He didn't wear them at first but eventually indulged his partner. His beard is always well manicured and trimmed.

Ghost: Mans is unironically fashionable and only wears black. Wears long and short sleeve button ups they're all perfectly tight and hugs his chest and arms well. Soap makes sure of that. Nice jeans or slacks with a black and silver belt and his well worn combat boots. Silver wrist watch, chain necklace, and rings, with black nails. He keeps a face mask on and most times wears a beanie so his eyes and the makeup on them are the only thing seen. There's a difference between Ghost doing his eyes and Soap doing his eyes. Ghost's makeup is what he always does, smeared black nothing fancy. Soap's is intricate with liner and designs, it's still chaotic but in a beautiful way, it's perfect for Ghost.

Gaz: Fashion king, everything he wears is color coordinated with Price. Sweaters with knitted designs or embroidery over a white or black collared shirt. Well tailored black or brown slacks or jeans with a belt to match the sweater main color. Nice pair of chucks customized for Gaz by Soap as a birthday present. Lots of silver jewelry and accessories out the ass.

Roach: Nice acid washed jeans and graphic tees under an unbuttoned flannel. Nice pair of vans and goofy mismatched socks. Patterned belts, multi colored beanies, and chipped nail polish. He keeps his skateboard on him and walks around with his dog Ripley.

Soap: Punk Soap? Punk Soap... Why else the goofy hair cut? He's got a custom leather jacket with hand made patches, studs, and spikes. Graphic or band tees with ripped jeans or colored checkered pants. Well worn black combat boots with custom design embroidery. Chocker with a little ghost charm, rings and layered necklace and bracelets, as well as tongue and ear piercings. Will sometimes wears fake nose and lip piercing jewelry. Nail polish and eye makeup that matches his outfit, wears black lipstick sometimes it drives Ghost crazy.

Lil Treat height and ethnicity ( I think that what its called but idk I'm not smart)

THEY'RE ALL BRITISH ARMY!

Ghost: 6'7" (British Dad/German Mom)

O'Connor: 6'5" (Irish Mom/Scottish Dad)

Price: 6'4" (Both British Parents)

Gaz: 6'2" (Swahili Mom/British Dad)

Roach: 5'9" (British Mom/Jewish Brit Dad)

Soap: 5'7" (Both Scottish Parents)

COD Master List

[tgirlrobot]

story prompt: someone is kidnapped and put onto a production line where they are converted into a pretty and sexy lady robot.

The beeping was incessant. 3 different tones by 3 different machines. In an ever-present rhythm like a robot's symphony.

Beep! Kshrrk... bee-beep! Whirrrr... boop!!

It wound its way into my head as I continued along the conveyor. The girl in front of me sitting stock-still just like me. Only shifting when the conveyor stopped for a pause, the person in front of her being swallowed by the parallel moulds of some humanoid form closing around her. What came out was the same robot form like the rest on the production line. Black, neck-length hair, glowing blue eyes, and a chrome body. The first beep sounded, and the conveyor pushed forward.

It was barely a second before it stopped again, almost throwing my still body off balance. Another second, and I could hear the hiss of hydraulics. One more, and she was gone. Turned into another perfect robotic replica.

Now it was my turn. The conveyor pulled me into the machine's jaws. The mould looking so obvious from between them. A single message appeared in my vision.

Smile!

And everything went dark. Everything was light. My mind was subsumed in pleasure.

First, ny arms burned in rosy bliss. Like a rolling orgasm centered around ny extremities, my legs followed. Flowing up my body like I was being lowered into water. My body was ablaze in bliss as my crotch spasmed. The only thing preventing my moans as the seconds dragged on was the fact it was like everything about me was in slow motion. My hair tickled my ass as it fell. My tits groaned in my mind as they were covered in that hyperactive pleasure. I couldn't stop.

It was everywhere. I couldn't keep track of it. My arms. My legs. My crotch. My tummy. My tits. My neck. My hea-

The new, black, uniform hair grew in a flash on my head, and my mind completely gave up.

Blank, I continued down the conveyor. My eyes tinged pixellated blue, a permenant grin on my chrome face.

Next was what looked like a bottle of spray paint, maneuvered by a robotic arm.

It spun around the [SISTER UNIT] in front of me, expertly coating her body in a vaguely black substance. Slowly though, it congealed. Amassed itself into shapes. Bonding, shifting into something more discernable.

A black and white suit and tie. Black slacks. Dark heels.

A confirmation bee-beep! Sounded, and the conveyor moved forward. Now it was [THIS UNIT'S] turn.

It was mere seconds. The fluid was sprayed on my body. It was cold, then rumbled and vibrated as it shifted. My breasts were given a plunging neckline. My waist had fluid dripping into long strands that laced together into a swishing cloth around me. It all conjoined at my waist, begore giving itself color.

A beautiful sundress, with small sunflowers giving a pattern to the dandelion yellow fabric.

I continued forward, towards the final step. The girl in front of me stopped at an open area of the conveyor. A single cable snaked into her ear. She shook for a moment, a shrill, synthesized moan escaping her lips before she resumed her pose, saluting.

"My credentials are UNIT #3972, my purpose is CORPORATE SERVICE WORKER. Please direct me to my client."

There was no emotion in her voice. The only sign she was ever human was the parts the synthesizer didn't hide. She was perfected by her captors, transformed into something unrecognizable.

One last signal sounded. Scree-boop!

She walked off the production line, and the conveyor shifted one last time.

Now was my turn to be reformatted. The cable snaked to my right, and injected into my right ear with a click.

Pleasure spiked through like I'd never felt before. Directives filled my mind. My body convulsed. My vocal centre overloaded and let out my pleasure to the world.

My unit number was #3973.

My job was a stepford wife for my husband.

My past was irrelevant. Discarded.

Pleasure dictates my thoughts.

I am a product.

The cable extracted from your skull and your vision clears.

Your new directive dictates your speech.

Sonething echoes in your code.

Check Implantation.... successful. State name and purpose.

"My credentials are UNIT #3973, my purpose is STEPFORD HOUSEWIFE. Please direct me to my Husband."

You step off the conveyor belt, fully passing inspection. Your husband greets you at the door.

"I'm so glad you turned out well, wifey~ let's get you home and... "break you in""

The leering grin he made didn't bother you. He was your [OWNER] Husband. In response, you giggle in your robotic, synthesised voice and reply. "Of course, hubby! Take me home!"

[dustandembers]

LOV AND FASHION

𓏵

SHIGARAKI:

His choice in clothes is the simplest—T-shirt and jeans with whatever sneakers.

As ordinary as it may sound, the possibilities are endless! But, this is Shigaraki and he’s not overly experimental with his style.

Though, every now and again he’s inspired to do a little something more with his outfits. He borrows some ideas from street wear with an emo / gothic touch.

When he’s feeling particularly dressy, he likes to wear cuff earrings. Especially ones with a dangle chain.

TOGA:

Even though she admires Gyaru, she can’t really do the more embellished outfits due to having no money but also it’ll be an inconvenience if she ever has to fight on a moment’s notice.

She settles for Kogal— you’re already more than halfway there with just a sailor uniform.

Her favorite accessories are huge, puffy scrunchie bracelets, pearl barrettes and enamel pins that she’ll pierce into her cardigans.

DABI:

Of course, he’s about the goth aesthetic.

Though, he leans more into visual kei.

He’s into jewelry— especially in the color of silver or gun metal.

He owns simple rings that aren’t too flashy on their own. Just metal bands on his pinky and ring fingers. Sometimes, he would have a flashier, edgier one that sits around his middle finger (he’d set the metal bands aside whenever he does).

I’m tempted to say he had highlights in his hair at some point.

MR. COMPRESS:

He’s “casual fancy”. Like, there’s an aura of fine taste that doesn’t take itself so seriously.

A rosé wristwatch and cable knit sweater with his hair swept away from his face— a nice cologne, too. Something spicy, like cinnamon.

Probably does that thing where he’ll carry around a suit jacket but only to have it hoisted over his shoulder.

TWICE:

He’s rather classy, actually. He does try his best to appear somewhat crisp and clean.

A white button-up shirt with short sleeves and dress pants. Sometimes he’d throw on a funky tie to be fun.

He would also adorn his pinky or thumb with a chunky ring.

SPINNER:

He definitely leans into his geekiness— if he is a fan of something, he’d find a way to showcase it somewhere on his body.

Even if it’s just a subtle reference, kinda like those character bracelets that feature an identifiable color scheme along with pendants of objects that are associated with them.

He’s into the band tee over a long sleeved shirt style and baggy pants look. And leather bracelets, too.

[llau-ren-ti-a]

The Bad Batch Ask Game

created by @wreckers-wife

@nahoney22

First of all thanks for the message and thank you for bringing this to my attention, my asks are open now 😁

So let's get right to it!

21. Which Batcher is the best cook?

I'd love to say Hunter, but with his senses it could get difficult (hell, I consider myself a decent cook and can't prepare meat half of the time bc I can't stand the smell) so I'm going with Echo and Cross!

Echo because he actually values food that isn't 'standard rations' and has a thing for proper nutrition and Crosshair because he's a control freak in the kitchen - he won't let you lift a finger and only serves whatever meets his expectations.

38. What color do you associate with each Batcher?

That's a tough one, but I'll try my best!

Wrecker

Wrecker was the easiest to come up with, and I know, yellow is a happy colour and that's why I associate him with it bla bla bla - his scar reminds me of the sun, a star bursting across his face. He's warm summer days spent in the sun, elderflower lemonade and daisies.

When I was in school we used to play "Yellow Car", whenever you spotted a yellow car you could hit one of the fellow players, and I think he'd be weirdly competitive about that.

Omega

Omega was a close second, and my colour is turquoise! Do you know this specific shade of turquoise that every other girl's rooms had back in the 2010s? Either you knew someone who had a room like that or you were that person. I can remember that so vividly and she instantly reminded me of her so much. She'd totally be one of those girls with turquoise walls.

I'm also so sure adores the ocean and sky, aside from the storm grey she was surrounded with on Kamino.

Tech

A little conflicted about our dear Tech - he reminds me of vaporwave and 80s computers; to me he is the embodiment of 80s and 90s synthwave (aesthetic), black and neon pinks and blues and purples and oranges - it was really a tie between the latter but I went with purple, it's still quite a nice colour and I think he'd center his whole being around this colour like many purple people do. (Orange people are actually exactly the same, but they are less vocal about it haha)

Echo

Sad beige clothes for sad beige children.

Look me straight into my bright blue eyes and tell me Echo would not absolutely THRIVE in a clean, cozy minimalistic apartment. I would pay an ungodly amount of money to wrap him up in a beige silk/mohair blend cable knit sweater and watch him drink a black tea with milk and sugar while he's sitting on clean white bed sheets. Need I say more?

Hunter

(Sidenote: I am having an absolute field day imagining Hunter in one of those Park Ranger Uniform shorts)

I think the consensus is that a lot of people associate him with red (because he is the leader of the squad and their colours are black and red...)

And I get it, red and brown suit him well in my opinion, but he really is green to me. Not really sage green or dark forest green, more the yellowish chartreuse kind of swampy green.

Crosshair

I get it. I absolutely do. The angry, dangerous, even lustful dark reds and blacks that so many people pair him with.

My soul tells me he is green. Not that friendly, lively kind of green that Hunter has, but this dark and forgotten shade of ancient woods that block out the sun once you've walked a few steps into them. Kind of Twilight-esque pacific northwedt vibes, but scarier and less blue filter.

I know he would kill me if he heard me compare him to Hunter like that, but I really think they are quite alike.

The difference lies here:

Hunter invites you in, whereas Crosshair is warning you to stay away.

- - -

I hope that made some sense haha!

That was fun, thanks for the message! <3

[usafphantom2]

Pratt & Whitney J58, SR-71 engine burning up the last of the JP-7 fuel at Edwards Air Force Base.

On the evening of Thursday, Sept.12, 2002. is when this very last fuel-burning event occurred. They were ordered to get rid of the rest of the JP7 SR 71 fuel, so it was agreed…. Let’s burn it.! To experience a J58 in full burner close-up and personal is hard to describe. Picture a gigantic blow torch, 40 inches in diameter, putting out a blue-yellow-orange flame over 50 feet long. Imagine standing 30 feet from this, feeling the vibration and heat. You wear both foam plugs and earmuffs. Your ears still ring afterward, because the sound is conducted through your body. The back half of the engine transforms from dull gray to bright orange, seemingly transparent. The flame has little three-dimensional diamond-shaped shock patterns about every two feet. I lost count at 13. It is both frightening and beautiful, an amazing demonstration of perfectly controlled power. And to think - this was done with 1950s technology

Someone added the blue color and made the picture more vivid. The red glow is more realistic. That is the accurate picture. A Pratt & Whitney J58 in the test stand at Edwards AFB. Note the beefy cables and steel rods to tie this giant down. The last flight of an SR 71 was on October 9, 1999..

Look at all of those beautiful diamonds ..The sound alone would shake every molecule in your body. The heat would be ferocious. Your emotions would be undeniable, Just as if you were at a funeral for one of your best friends, because that was exactly what we were doing. Goodbye, beautiful Blackbird.

~ Linda Sheffield

Tony Landis photo

@Habubrats71 via X

[noa-nightingale]

Recent knitting successes:

learned how to do the feather and fan stitch

made this drape-y thingy that I don't know what to call with the feather and fan stitch - I will put it on top of my bookcase; it's the second I made, I gave the first one away as a gift

so, really, I should put three successes here because I made two of those feather and fan things with that type of colorful yarn

New knitting accessories I have now:

a knitting register

two cable needles

Next project:

knitting a tie

[ivoryminitower]

Seasonal Sports

Something a little different for the holiday season.

The bow sat at its usual place, high up on the lamppost, a dull red in the artificial light, slightly raggedy around the edges from the hard use to which it had been put.  Green tinsel garlands double-helixed up the lamppost to reach it.

A pair of eyes studied the bow from a bush on the other side of the sidewalk.  Perhaps more eyes watched -- the evening's contestant certainly hoped they watched -- but for the moment he could only be sure of his own.

He hoped there weren't any cats among the potential watchers.  This wasn't really a cat neighborhood, and it had gotten a bit cold for the average household prowler, but you never really knew until the claws were in your back.

Bit by bit he became visible at the base of the boxwood: a twitching nose, bright black eyes, pulled back ears, long narrow paws, a small, lean but muscular body, and a trembling tail.  He stayed very still as he took in the sights, the sounds and the smells of the night.  No apparent danger, except for the obvious, so he advanced.

Cold rough concrete under his paws...acres of it, to him, a vast distance just from the bush to the post, and seeming to stretch off to infinity on either side.  Dark at first, then gradually lightening as it, and he, got closer to the post.  He became much more distinctly a moving grey shape on the pale beige artificial stone.

Feeling with every step the inevitability of a predator's strike, or even a bumbling human striding out of the dark, he finally reached the base of the post.  He took a moment to get over his surprise, then reached up and hooked claws into the shiny tinsel.  He pulled himself up and began to climb.

It was a substantial post.  A human would require a stepladder to reach the top.  A squirrel would seem to fly up it.  A cat wouldn't bother.  A mouse, clinging desperately to the string and the colored plastic, had to follow the twists and turns of the garland around the post, making fresh decisions at each juncture.

He paused halfway up to peer at the bushes down below and the trees nearby.  Did he have an audience tonight?  Did he have peers eager to see him succeed, or at least looking to be entertained if he fell?  He wouldn't know until he got back to the nest.  If he got back.

The wind picked up as he got higher.  His small body, held close against the post by his death grip on the garland, didn't present much of a target to the wind, but it still sucked heat out of him and stung his eyes.  It had to be borne, though...there was only one time of the year that the bows appeared, and it was almost never warm.

His claws hooked into the last wrappings of garland at the top.  He paused for a breather, and risked a glance downward.  It was many, many times the size of his body to the ground.  He knew he was going down again...he just had to make sure it would be slowly.

Tearing his gaze from the down, he looked up at his objective.  He had to climb up just a little further and get through whatever was holding the bow on.  At first it had simply been more ribbon, but with successive contestants the bow had been held up by more and more substantial means -- tape and string and stronger ribbon, and even a hard plastic cord that a mouse wouldn't recognize as an electronics cable tie.  He'd heard that had taken a lot of chewing, but wasn't impossible to get through.  He wondered if that's what he would be facing tonight.

No.  This time it was wire.  Whatever human had the job of repositioning the bow every morning had apparently decided to up the ante.

The contestant contemplated the wire, tested it with his teeth.  It gleamed wickedly in the light of the lamppost, and had a cold taste in his mouth.  It was different from stone...a stone in the teeth was simply a nuisance to spit out and ignore.  The wire felt like it was there to put up a fight.

With more time and less wind he might have gnawed at it until it weakened enough, but he didn't have all night to struggle.  He worked his way around the post, looking for weaknesses in the wire, finally finding where the ends had been twisted together.  He didn't know much about knots, and wasn't a student of topology, but he could understand moving the wire away from itself until the strands separated.  Then he pulled at one end until the other appeared.

Moving back to the bow, he saw where the wire had gone through holes in the ribbon, which was now the only thing holding the bow in place.  He paused a moment, gathering a little courage, then leaned forward to hook his claws into the body of the bow.  He twisted his neck, nipped at the last bit of ribbon holding the bow in place...

And jumped.

The feeling was indescribable.  Surrounded by nothing but air, held there by his grip on the bow, he finally took a good look at the ground so very far away.  It tipped, it twisted, it occasionally spun as the wind pushed every which way at the bow.  The view was dizzying, but nowhere near as dizzying as the sensation of being totally out of control.

Along the sidewalk he flew, drifting over the bushes, over the street, perilously close to the trees, before settling in a spiral that took him slowly downward, drifting back down to the concrete.

When his belly scraped on the ground and he came to a halt, he simply lay there, unable to make himself move.  Eventually his claws loosened from the ribbon, his breathing slowed, and his tail twitched.  He raised himself slowly up, taking in how normal everything around him once again was.

He knew he had to get back to the nest.  Dawn was coming, and soon humans would be too.  But he took the time before slipping away to carefully claw his name into the ribbon.  Next to all the other names.  He was no longer a contestant.  He was a brother.

    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

In the morning, the bow lay at its usual place, on the sidewalk not far from the lamppost, a bright red in the morning sunlight, slightly more raggedy around the edges than it had been the day before.

The maintenance man gazed down at it, then looked up at the top of the lamppost.  He wondered if he'd have to tie it up there with chain.

[big-mean-trans-dyke]

Halloween Party 2024 - Crime City

One of the more ambitious rooms is aptly named 'Crime City'. Not technically a room, it's a walled green space located just outside the garden, weeks of preparation spent setting up facades of buildings until the space looks like a small city block, then taking it a step further to even fill out a couple of these facades to be real, functional spaces.

A bank, a small theater, and a little medical center are among the fully realized buildings, and there's even a dingey little alleyway to stoop into for the brave of heart. Unfortunately, not all is well in Crime City. Poor, innocent transfems may find themselves accosted, stopped at the bank for money by cuntgirls in balaclavas that don't know their place. Hostage situations in the theater are more common than anywhere else in the world, and even the hospital, providing vital breast augmentations and hormones, isn't safe from the threat of these cuntgirls.

Thank god, then, for the main attraction of this space. Clad in colorful spandex, masked, and with a flair for the dramatic, cuntgirl superheroes defend the night from the evils of unsucked cocks and full balls.

When the redhead chosen to dress as Batgirl this evening hears the familiar twang of a slutty clown demanding someone put their hands up and hand over her money, she's there in a flash. Harley Quinn doesn't even know what hit her. Before she can say a word, she's on her knees, a hand in her hair and another prying her jaw open while her innocent victim pulls her cock out. By the time justice has been served, Harley's clown makeup is smeared into a red, white, and blue wreck all over her face, she's drooling cum from all three holes, and she's laying face-down in a puddle of her own juices.

When Black Widow hears the ranting of some dumb cuntgirl from the theater, saying words like 'hostages' and 'ransom', she's equally quick to intervene, sneaking up onto a catwalk, only to drop down onto the villain from above, pinning her. There's plenty of cable lying around the place to tie her, and it doesn't take much convincing to get her former hostages in the mood to take out their frustrations on her. One by one, they rise from their seats, ignoring her pleas as they stroke their cocks hard, then take turns filling each of her holes in a gangbang that lasts most of the night, the heroic Black Widow offering her services as a fluffer whenever her prey is busy with too many cocks to handle everyone who wants her.

When a sabotaged shipment to the health center gets all the transfems worked up, thank goodness for yet another hero. Nobody's really sure whether she has a name, she hasn't had much of a chance to garble it out around the cocks that've been filling her throat since she arrived, but she has a logo of a fleshlight emblazened on the chest of her spandex suit. Or rather, she did, before it'd been torn open to show off her tits, along with a nice, big hole at the crotch. The most altruistic of our heroes, there's no hiding behind a set of villainous holes for her, she sacrifices her own body to make sure every set of balls she sees leave at least two loads lighter.

Finally, for those with rougher tastes, a little cry for help from the alley is all it takes to draw a gullible superhero eager to help into the darkness. Despite the name, they're not super, and their costumes are there just for show, so there's nothing wrong with tearing their clothes to shreds, shoving them against a dirty dumpster, and making sure these 'superheroes' never, ever forget that they're nothing more than entertainment, there not to be taken seriously, but to empty transfem cock.

[toastydoll]

Since rainbow high is getting extremely worrisome w the new line I’ve coped by making my own wave 6 (drumroll please):

Scarlet, Pumpkin, Mustard, Moss, Cornflower, Royal Purple!

Tbh I was just listing off colors I wished we had gotten in a gc and then realized a) they made a rainbow and b) they were all autumnal themed so I made an inadvertent autumnal wave! All with two outfits bc I’m allowed to dream. I want to make them eventually too bc hello my New Year’s resolution is to make more customs than last year.

Scarlett Connell (scarlet red/orange): a multimedia artist with a passion for eco-friendly graffiti, Scarlett Connell hails from the Pacific Northwest. Growing up on the Oregon coast, Scarlett fell in love with thrifting materials from old logging camps and cargo railroads. Her main outfit is a scarlet beanie, a scarlet plaid scarf, a white tank top, a pair of patchwork scarlet overalls, and graffitied scarlet doc martens. Her second outfit is a scarlet oversized flannel, faded rainbow dream t shirt, torn/cuffed scarlet jeans, and short scarlet rain boots. She keeps her makeup subtle save for a bold detail (scarlet tinged lip, blush, natural brows, graphic scarlet eyeliner) and her scarlet hair straight and chin length. Y’all…she’s the red/orange butch doll we’ve all been waiting for.

Paloma Gordon (pumpkin orange): a sweet-as-can-be baking and pastry major from Salem, Massachusetts. Growing up in such an autumnal region made Paloma fall in love with both the flavors and fashions of the season. Her primary outfit is a pair of cropped ankle pumpkin pants, pumpkin crocs, a white chef coat w pumpkin buttons, and a pumpkin orange neckerchief. Her second outfit is a pair of pumpkin plaid woolen pants, a white cable knit sweater w pumpkin detailing, and pumpkin suede booties. Her makeup is soft and warm yet very, very precise: much like her approach in the kitchen, and she keeps her hair in long curly pumpkin orange ringlets, tied back in a high ponytail. I always wished rh would do a baking major since culinary arts are some of the most impressive art forms in the world (we almost got there w poppy).

Amelie “Frenchie” du Mous (mustard yellow): always on point, Frenchie hones all of her high fashion skills from growing up in Paris into a neatly tailored fashion focus. Her primary outfit is a plaid mustard pinafore over a lace trimmed white blouse with bell sleeves, mustard yellow knee high socks, brown heeled oxfords with mustard laces, and a mustard beret trimmed in white lace. Her second outfit is a pair of knee length mustard plaid shorts w matching suspenders, platform mustard leather loafers, mustard mid calf socks, and a white puffed short sleeved blouse with a mustard plaid bow tie. Her hair is straight and long in two tails. We never got a dark academia girl so here she is to fall in love w scarlet

Ivy Pines (moss green): emerging from the woods for the first time in her life, Ivy is ready to bring her foraging gift to Rainbow High! Her art has always been from the forest around her and her family in Northern California, whether she’s crafting her own dyes or whittling intricate jewelry. Her first outfit is an ombré dip-dyed lace maxi dress (white into moss green) with thin straps, an oversized moss green cardigan, knit to texturally simulate moss (look up moss stitch w this specific rough spin yarn istg it looks just like moss), moss sandals, moss socks, and wooden jewelry with moss jewel accents. Her second outfit is moss green crochet pants, moss flats, and a white peasant top w moss embroidery. Her makeup is natural with mossy green eyeshadow, and her hair is loose beachy waves. She’d come w alt heeled feet but both her shoes would be flat :0. She’s the mori girl we deserved but never actually got.

Corinne St. Germaine (cornflower blue): traveling all the way from Middle-of-Nowhere, Nebraska, Rainbow High is Corinne’s first interaction outside of her hometown’s sixty people. She’s not totally ignorant of the world though—she’s actually huge on the internet! Her fashion style has been dubbed Lolita Americana: gold rush pioneer outfits through a cute girly lens. Her first outfit is a cornflower blue pioneer dress with a knee length hem, high neck collar, long slightly puffed sleeves, and white apron, as well as lace knee high cornflower stockings, cornflower leather ankle boots, and a cornflower bonnet trimmed in white lace. Her second outfit is a cornflower wool coat, long cornflower wool skirt, and knee high cornflower riding boots. Her hair would have a soft wave and probably be in a half up style, and her makeup would be soft. In a perfect world she’s also got a parasol >:3

Leanna Royale (royal purple): Known for clothing real life royals and only the most fashionable celebrities, the prestigious House Royale has unveiled its latest stride into the fashion world: a daughter named Leanna. Raised from birth on fine art and livery, Leanna is a princess in all but political power. Her first outfit is a polished royal purple velvet pantsuit with a royal satin shirt and purple velvet heeled pumps. Her second outfit is a silk bejeweled minidress, royal purple bejeweled strap heels, and a royal purple fur stole. Her makeup is elegant and refined, complete with a royal purple lip. Her hair is long royal purple locs in an elegant updo, and yes: she has a tiara. She’s every bit of posh violet wishes she could be (/hj)

I’m gonna try and make these! Bases would probably be whatever I can find that’s cheap, though a good visualization I’m going on rn is based on the color create dolls (scarlet and mustard for green eyes, pumpkin and royal for purple eyes, cornflower and moss for blue eyes). Maybe I won’t go so far to do two outfits but I’ll try and at least make one for each :)

[universitypenguin]

Hey Alice :) this is prob a weird question but what kind of car do you think Lloyd drives? We know he’s luxurious so I can see him in something sleek and sporty like an Audi or another European make car

Also how do you envision Lloyd’s house? Is he particular about his decor? Is he the type to be in to antiques or more modern pieces of furniture

I think Lloyd would drive something expensive, but also nondescript. I’m picturing a Mercedes-Benz sedan. It would probably be gray or black. I can see him in a few different models. If he was being conservative, he’d have bought a mid-priced model like a C 300. If he was in a spending mood when he bought the car, he’d have gone for the pricier S 580 4MATIC.

He likes the performance of German engineering and the powerful throttle of the motor. It’s an added bonus that in the D.C. metro, the car blends into the sea of other luxury vehicles. The reason he’d never consider a smaller, sporty model, like an Audi R8 or a BMW M4, is simple. You can’t fit a dead body in the trunk. He’s not planning to commit a crime, but proper preparation prevents poor performance. And when you need to move a dead body there’s no room for error.

Lloyd sticks with a roomy sedan that has plenty of space in the trunk. He keeps it stocked with a shovel and a large box of kitty litter. In the Virginia climate, those items don’t attract much notice. They’re snow storm essentials and he keeps them next to the emergency kit with blankets, water, jumper cables, and a tow chain. But a shovel and kitty litter is good for more than just getting traction in an ice storm, you know? 🫣

For his house, Lloyd lives across the Potomac from D.C. in Old Town Alexandria. He chose the house because it’s less than 30 minutes from the office and the charm of the cobblestone streets appeals to him.

The neighborhood he picks has a brick wall and wrought iron gate facing the street. To get to his house, you have to park in a lot down the street, and then walk down the block to the courtyard gate. The gate isn’t locked but it’s another layer of security - something that would slow down an attacker. Inside the gate is a cobblestone courtyard with Beech trees in the middle. There are five townhouses in the courtyard neighborhood, two on the right and two on the left, with another at the back.

Lloyd owns the inner property on the left side. He likes the location because he’s insulated from every possible angle. The gate protects the front and the courtyard access gives him a view of anyone approaching. Both sides are covered by the other row houses and the brick wall hiding the common area means no one can see much beyond the small gate. The large trees prevents overhead photos and the lack of a garage door further secures the location.

For decor, he paid a decorator to fix the place up. She went for a mix of antiques with modern touches, with a subtle nod towards costal styles in the color palette. The walls are a neutral white, to better showcase the eclectic artwork she chose for his home. She went with the traditional set of wingback chairs, a structured sectional sofa to anchor the room, and a jute rug in the living area. His coffee table is a simple design made of reclaimed elm wood and the end tables are mismatched. One table is made out of distressed gray wood and the other is polished brass.

The decorator gave him plants to tie it all together. He has a fig tree, a Japanese maple, and a ficus. There are potted plants in every room, and he loves how they liven up the place. Looking at them makes him feel like he’s at home. That’s in addition to the herb garden with mint, basil, chives, and tarragon, that she installed in his kitchen window. He has to admit, the herb garden is one of his favorite touches. He uses it almost every day.

The kitchen is thoroughly modern. It has a wide island down the middle and cabinets on both walls. The quartz countertops are durable and crafted to look like marble. Having lived in flats with marble counters in the past, Lloyd has no interest in getting the real thing. They’re too easily scarred. He has a farmhouse sink, with plenty of elbow room to peel potatoes and stack up dishes. On the end of the kitchen is his formal dining room with a table that, when extended, seats fifteen.

His bedroom has one of the best antique pieces in the house. The Italian Renaissance walnut headboard has hand carved Foliate Scrolls and a matching footboard. He has it restored and styles it with a green jacquard bedspread. The decorator finishes the look with antique tea tables for the nightstands, and places an overstuffed chair and a reading lamp in the corner. She installs a wall of floor-to-ceiling black out curtains to prevent the east facing windows from waking him up at dawn. On the windows themselves she adds bamboo shades to bring another texture to the space.

And despite his protests, the decorator puts more plants in the bedroom. Lloyd can’t help but leave them there even after she’s gone. They just… work. He’d never have put them there on his own but the morning sunshine makes the Christmas cactus bloom every three months and turns the climbing vine thing into the picture of health within days.

A year later, when it’s time to decorate the guest room and the sun porch, he re-hires the same woman. This time, he hands over his credit card and tells her to follow the same process she did the first time.

[reahan-khan]

How can 800PERGOLA create value in your house’s backyard?

The pergola is one of the most iconic ways for home and garden enthusiasts to add style and sophistication to a property. The pergola, which provides stylish shade in the summer and elegant cover in the winter, is an accent that gives a home true character.

Even better is the value a covered wooden pergola or outdoor aluminum pergola can add to your home. If you ever think of selling your home and want to add an element of grandeur to it that will dramatically increase its value.

You can also add a backyard wooden pergola or garden aluminum pergola to your outdoor space to improve its appearance. Whether your pergola is a standalone structure or an extension of an existing veranda, it will provide years of enjoyment while also increasing the value of your home when it comes time to sell. Let’s figure out how 800PERGOLA can create value for your house’s backyard by installing a pergola:

Turn the Corner

Don’t have enough money to build a large covered patio? Install a pergola with the help of modern pergola developers in one corner of your deck for additional shade and privacy. The outdoor aluminum pergola at the far end of the deck is ideal for entertaining and dining guests while also giving the sprawling deck a more intimate look and feel.

Off the Hook

Hang potted plants around the perimeter of the small wooden pergola to take colorful blooms to the next level. Attach small metal hooks to the rafters, then attach steel wire hangers to plant pots through holes drilled into the pots’ sides and hook the hangers to the hooks. As the pergola will limit sun exposure, choose plants that thrive in the shade, such as begonias or dead nettle.

Far Off Fun

No rule says an outdoor pergola has to be next to the house! Feel free to place one in a secluded area a few paces away from home. A small wooden pergola installed beneath a large tree provides shade and plenty of space for guests to play during the day. Meanwhile, oversized lounge chairs and bright outdoor lighting ensure comfort and safe patio navigation after dark.

Symphony for Strings

Lantern-style string lights with festive multi-colored bulbs will brighten your next summer soiree. All thanks to the best Pergola designers in Dubai for bringing life to the innovative pergola ideas to enhance the house’s value. You need to run a metal tension wire along the pergola beams and secure it with screws to get the party started. Then, using cable ties, connect the individual lanterns to the wire. Plug the lights into a nearby outlet, and there you have it—fun illuminated!

Training Day

Can’t withstand the heat? For natural shade, train vines to climb over the roof of an outdoor aluminum pergola. Choose twiner or grabbing climbing vines like wisteria or sweet pea, which wrap their stems around structures quickly, and then tie the vine stems to pergola posts with twine to encourage upward growth. Tie the upper branches of the vines to the beams when they reach the roof to enable them to grow across. You will soon be relaxing under a cool canopy, thanks to expert pergola developers!

Splash Out

Convert a backyard wooden pergola into a pool house with water-friendly furniture and an in-ground hot tub—the setting will be as popular in the winter as it is in the summer. Combining wood with other natural materials like stone and brick on a patio increases the welcoming factor and the house’s value. You can also add more features to the idea by reaching the best Pergola designers in Dubai.

Small yet Striking

Is your yard small? Not a problem! The small wooden pergola is only six feet square, but it includes a built-in trellis for climbing vines, a bench for relaxation, and stealth storage (stow garden tools or other gear underneath). It is a great idea to put it just beyond the walkable yard area, where it will not get in the way of romping kids and pets.

Don’t Miss the Opportunity!

Need some shade, privacy, or drama in your backyard? Consider adding a backyard wooden pergola or garden aluminum pergola to it with the help of 800PERGOLA experts. Interested in enhancing the value of your Villa’s backyard, connect with us now!

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RATW, DY 21, Al Jadaf, Dubai, United Arab Emirates

Email Id:   sales@800pergola.com / inquiry@800pergola.com

Mob: 055 380 5148      

Tel: +971 04 325 2966

Toll-free: 800 7374652

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