#facecloth

[thecrochetcrowd]

Crochet Spa Facecloth + Tutorial

Crochet Spa Facecloth Crochet Spa Facecloth The Crochet Spa Facecloth is the same pattern of the Chrysanthemum Dishcloth we have. So I have rejigged the tutorial to show this picture. If you were looking for gift ideas, this spa kit, along with some bath bombs and bubble baths would make a wonderful Mother’s day gift. Or great kits to make up for craft shows. More Bathroom Ideas Crochet…

[wetslug]

i was looking in my baby pics to see if i could find earliest known image of my epic teddy bear and i realize in 99% of these pictures i am holding a facecloth blankie in my fat little fingers. sensory seeking from day ONE

[sparklehoard]

Being so brave

[lacnunga]

Gonna try to be one of those girlies (neutral) again who washes and moisturises their face every morning and evening. Wish me luck

[leaveharmony]

Sweetheart you've got a little...something...just there...and there, and...

[allbeendonebefore]

as you guys may or may not know i don’t enjoy writing romance because i oscillate between being neutral to repulsed on romance much of the time but when i occasionally am feeling romance favourable the stories i write seem to be things like “et stays at calvins ranch house in kananaskis, suffers from insomnia, and then gets out of bed and steps directly on calvin who is on the floor like this:”

[comeon-intothemadhouse]

I know I have week (or so) to go before this comes off but I'm so over this thing.

[catboii]

.

[diazdnconfused]

it is Wednesday my dudes

[toasttt11]

sickness and health

prompt- "what are you doing out of bed?" "for the love of god, i need to pee."

Surprisingly Jack Hughes turns into quite the mother hen when the people he cares about are hurt or sick so it was not at all surprising when his girlfriend got sick he was extremely protective and barley letting her get out bed.

She coughed feeling her chest ache with how much she has coughed the past few days, she squirmed uncomfortably as her body temperature kept changing, one moment she was dripping sweat and the next she was lined with goosebumps shivering.

She looked over to the other side of their bed sighing in relief seeing Jack actually sleeping, she felt terrible that during his season off he had to take care of her and he has barley slept waking up constantly for her.

She took the wet facecloth off her forehead setting it on the bed and slowly took off the sheet that Jack draped over her. She moved slowly feeling pretty weak from not being able to eat much the past few days.

She swung her feet off the bed and slowly stood up using the nightstand to help her stand up.

Before she could take one step to the bathroom, Jack woke up noticing immediately she was not in bed and quickly jumped out of bed walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Jack asked her gently but scolding her as well knowing he told her not to get out bed alone.

"For the love of god, i need to pee." She groaned after she snapped at him, her body completely leaning on Jack feeling tired to stand on her own.

“Sorry.” She mumbled after feeling bad for snapping, she felt useless being so sick and barely being able to stand on her own and she can’t even go to the bathroom alone.

“That’s okay.” Jack softly spoke helping her to their bathroom, he understood it was hard her to let him take care of her so much especially with how independent she is.

Jack let her use the restroom before helping her back to their bed and he tucked her back in with the think sheet and set the wet facecloth back on her forehead.

Jack got back into bed laying down next to her.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently gaining his attention, “Thank you.” She may hate being sick and not being able to do anything herself but she still did appreciate how much Jack did for.

Jack just smiled, “In sickness and health, right?” He teased cheekily winking at her making her smile softly.

[apoemaday]

The Lanyard

by Billy Collins

The other day as I was ricocheting slowly off the blue walls of this room bouncing from typewriter to piano from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor, I found myself in the “L” section of the dictionary where my eyes fell upon the word, Lanyard. No cookie nibbled by a French novelist could send one more suddenly into the past. A past where I sat at a workbench at a camp by a deep Adirondack lake learning how to braid thin plastic strips into a lanyard. A gift for my mother. I had never seen anyone use a lanyard. Or wear one, if that’s what you did with them. But that did not keep me from crossing strand over strand again and again until I had made a boxy, red and white lanyard for my mother. She gave me life and milk from her breasts, and I gave her a lanyard She nursed me in many a sick room, lifted teaspoons of medicine to my lips, set cold facecloths on my forehead then led me out into the airy light and taught me to walk and swim and I in turn presented her with a lanyard. “Here are thousands of meals” she said, “and here is clothing and a good education.” “And here is your lanyard,” I replied, “which I made with a little help from a counselor.” “Here is a breathing body and a beating heart, strong legs, bones and teeth and two clear eyes to read the world.” she whispered. “And here,” I said, “is the lanyard I made at camp.” “And here,” I wish to say to her now, “is a smaller gift. Not the archaic truth, that you can never repay your mother, but the rueful admission that when she took the two-toned lanyard from my hands, I was as sure as a boy could be that this useless worthless thing I wove out of boredom would be enough to make us even.”

[tojisun]

konig pulling a silly: speaking to horangi in stilted korean about you. he is so confused though why horangi doesn't bother responding to him, but that's fine. it's whatever. he'll just use horangi as a soundboard.

"damn," konig croons, whistling, his voice reverberating in the covert base you're all stationed in. "i'd tap that, insult."

"it's i swear. not insult," horangi replies, much quieter.

"'kay, thanks," konig says, distractedly, watching as you and calisto discreetly make eye contact at the sound of their voices.

calisto tilts her head to the side, her eyes flitting to them in quick successions, before landing back to you. you roll your eyes, replying to calisto's quiet prodding with a shrug.

konig watches as she sighs, back straightening. in response, you also jolt from your seat, lips parting, "no-"

"hey!" calisto says, voice booming. she's turned to konig and horangi now. "we all can understand you, dumbass."

konig blinks, his facecloth rustling at his puffs of breath. then, "what-"

"you think you're the only one 'rangi taught?" calisto groans, dropping her head to her hands. "it was fun at first, but then you won't stop being so fucking horny."

konig swivels to you, watching the way you're suppressing your laughter behind the back of your palm. he feels his cheeks burn, his chest heaving as cold dread washes over him.

"so you've... understood all this time?" he asks tentatively, sweating underneath his mask.

you nod, still not meeting his eyes.

konig pauses. reels the embarrassment. then, "uh, so? what do you say, katzchen?"

he feels himself tremble in giddiness at your shy peek, before his whole body locks at the way your shyness melts to make way for your teasing smile. you coo, "finally, you asked me properly."

konig ignores calisto's loud, "thank fuck!"

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

feeling like shit rn, can you please write pete teasing his drunk baby and cleaning her up, holding her hair back when she pukes, she's like "i'm a mess, how can you love me" and he's kissing her face, that kind of fluffy shit <3

this is so stinkin cute

YOUR GIRL- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Boyfriend! Peter x Girlfriend! Reader

Word Count: 843

Warnings: some swearing, and vomiting ofc. but petnames and lots of fluff:))

"carry me to my bed, lay me in a pillow town kiss me on my head and remind me of the way we will not know

i wish i was your girl..."- your girl, lana del rey (unreleased)

“M’Peter I’m done. No more.” you moaned, your body feeling weak and achey as you leaned against your forehead against the toilet seat.

You felt like you were being punched in the gut, pins and needles pricking your clammy skin as the world began to spin again. The booze was rushing to your head, and you started to regret drinking so much.

Actually, you started regretting it nearly half an hour ago, the cool bathroom tile becoming an secret oasis for you as you heaved up sweet coolers and warm shots of fireball.

“No, no baby you gotta get it all out. You’ll feel so much better.” he cooed from above you, hand holding your hair back, the other stroking your back in small, soothing circles.

You were jealous of how much better he could handle his alcohol. You were jealous of the fact he didn't have the taste of sickly sweet six percent on his teeth, mixed with the taste of faint vomit.

“I’m not feeling better. M’feeling worse. You’re lying.” you stated, groaning as you felt the contents in your stomach roll over like a tidal wave.

“I never lie sweetheart, you know this. Stop being mean.” he laughed, watching as you weakly attempted to reach behind yourself to swat at him. Before you could make another sly comment back, it was too late.

“Oh g-god-” you hiccuped, leaning further towards the toilet bowl as you felt the room start to spin.

“Oh, there she goes. Atta girl, let it all out.” he winced, patting your back as you heaved everything up, feeling as if you'd choke.

“Good girl. See? It’s better.” he said, reaching over to grab the damp cloth he had been using to help clean you up, so you’d stop (attempting) to use the back of your hand as a means of getting the puke off your lips.

“No not better. You’re better.” you moaned, not relaxing your words had made no sense.

“I am better. Now look up for me, good girl.” he smiled as you obeyed, makeup slightly smudged as he wiped the warm facecloth across the lower half of your face. Leaning down, he scattered kisses across your face, leaving you giggly as his lips brushed every inch of skin, tickling your eyelashes.

“I’m a mess, how can you l-love me?” you slurred, hearing the toilet flush before he helped you stumble upwards to stand.

“You’re not a mess. You’re beautiful.” he shoke his head, and you reached for the edge of the counter to help steady yourself.

You felt awful. You knew tomorrow morning would be hell on earth, and you already could predict the amount of tylenol and gravol you’d have to down with lots, and lots of water. It seemed like a chore, so out of reach as you felt yourself being guided towards the bed.

You couldn't even remember whose bed it was. It certainly wasn't yours.

“Do you wanna try and get out of these clothes?” Peter asked, to which you could only nod. Exhaustion washed over your bones, and you felt weak and nimble as thread as you swayed in place.

“I need them off. They’re sticking to me.” you complained, feeling like a rag doll as he moved your limbs to better suit his needs, lifting your arms up to slide your shirt off.

“I wish I was your girl. I wanna be your girlfrienddd.” you blurted out, slouching back on the bed, head pressed against the crisp sheets and you breathed them in. They were coated in the smell of Peter, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you realized you were safe in the comfort of his bed.

You could hear his laughter, though it sounded slightly muffled and distant as he unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the deminum down your legs and letting them plop onto the floor with the rest of your garments.

“You are my girlfriend silly. And I wouldn't have it any other way.” he hummed, shuffling you around so you were vertical, head collapsing on the pillow.

“Really? That's so sweet.” you smiled, content with the idea that the two of you were together (despite being a couple for over a year), as you always wanted.

“Lets just stay here. We can stay here all night.”

“We are staying here all night. And all day, most likely. You’re not moving in this condition.”

You smiled. “That means more time to cuddle.” you giggled, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead before turning away.

“W-where are you going? I thought we were going to cuddle, cause you’re my boyfriend and that's what they do!” you pouted, reaching aimsley for his hand in an attempt to keep him from leaving you.

“We will cuddle baby I promise. I’m gonna get some stuff like meds and a bucket okay? I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall limp against the sheets. Before you could stop them, your eyelid started to droop, the world turning dark as you dozed off into dreamland.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Guess who, on top of already being ill, spilt boiling water in her hand and is trying to type this whilst her fingers are wrapped in a cold facecloth tied with a hair bobble? Anyway

Here are some parallels I love in six of crows and crooked kingdom! (Probably part one)

Early on in Crooked Kingdom, Matthias looks through a Ketterdam window to see a simple, happy domestic scene between a husband and wife, and finds himself longing for himself and Nina to be able to enjoy that domesticity, which he characterises as impossible. After Matthias’ death, Nina looks at all the candles that the Ketterdam citizens have put in their windows, a local superstition to ward off the plague, and says that she’s pretending the candles are in mourning for him.

In chapter 2 of Six of Crows Inej remarks that Kaz’s black, tailored suit next to the bright, clashing, and ultimately random popular fashion of the Barrel makes him look like “a priest come to preach to group of circus performers”. In chapter 27 of Crooked Kingdom, when he leads the coup against Pekka Rollins, after the fight when Kaz gives his speech Inej describes him as “start[ing] to preach”

“Welcome to Hellgate” // “Welcome to Ice Court, Nina Zenik” - I’m obsessed; the power dynamic shifting between them, and the pure fear this scene instilled in me the first time I read it because I really thought Matthias was betraying us and I was heartbroken

“Wylan earned his keep?” “I did?” “Well, you made a down payment,” // “But I charge a pretty steep fee” “well I hope the medik’s here to fix my ribs soon, because I’d like to make a down payment”

[safetycar-restart]

i wanna give subby lando a handjob to jus ease his mind. maybe it’s before an event and he’s all jittery and you don’t have enough time to take care of him fully by laying him down telling him to breathe through his anxiety so he has to settle for a hand down his pants (bonus point for when he sits on your lap, breathing into your neck and letting out the softest lil whines)

I... oh my god? I am ALWAYS down for soft hurt/comfort vibes and with lando? Absolute perfection. Anon you are a visionary.

So firstly, I think Lando loves to pretend he's all independent and strong (and bratty) but the moment you ask him if anything is wrong he will just crawl into your lap.

And another thing about Lando, he won't actually verbalise what's wrong until you've made him feel better. Until then he will just whine and snuggle against you and shake a little. He will give you absolutely zero clues as to what exactly he's feeling or what's wrong or what needs to be done to make him feel better. You must find all of this out by yourself.

Luckily, there is two fullproof methods that will always work with lando: laying him down and just kissing and cuddling his entire body and then letting him cuddle against you while you hold a vibrator to his cock and whisper praise into his ear. Or, if there isnt enough time for that, a hand down his pants. A hand down his pants will always make him feel better.

It especially works if he's nervous about an event, because often Lando's nervousness and anxiety will manifest in him just having this uncomfortable nervous energy that he just can't get rid of? You'll walk into the bedroom, expecting to Lando all dressed and ready for his event and instead he's just sitting on the bed, bouncing his leg and whining a little cause he's so scared and it's all wrong and he can't get himself out of this.

You don't have much time, so you have to go to for the hand down his pants option.

I also think when he gets like that, it's best to not even speak to him at first? Like you don't bother actually giving Lando an order, instead you just manhandle him. He's like putty in your hands, letting you move him however you want.

At first you position him next to you on the bed, wrapping a hand around his shoulders to hold him close and lowering your other hand to palm him through his sweatpants. He whines and buries his head in your shoulder, widening his legs so you can have better access.

You play with him like this until he starts begging for more, until you hear quiet little 'please...''s mumbled against your shoulder. Then you remove your hand and tell him to come sit on your lap.

He moves as fast as his little horny mind can make him and he just sits on your lap, his legs on either side of you. Naturally his head goes right back to hiding against your shoulder, because of course it does you must just allow him to hide at all times.

You slip your hand down his sweatpants then, stroking him and he lets out the cutest noises against your neck. Of course you would have far better leverage if you could take his sweatpants off, but you know from experience that if you ask Lando to do that then he will start crying.

So you just make do, playing with his cock in his sweatpants as he whines and shakes in your arms. At some point you start praising him, telling him how cute he is and how much you love him and how good he's being by letting you play with him.

You always know he's going to cum because his hips start moving against your hand. And then when he does cum, his whole body goes stiff and he goes dead silent, making a mess in his pants. The moment it's done though, he's shaking and moaning against you, mumbling thank you over and over again.

You have to clean him up quite quickly, because Lando doesn't like the feeling of drying cum in his pants. So you take off his sweatpants and clean him with a warm facecloth and then give him proper cuddles.

Once he calms down, he'll be ready to get ready for the event.

(And also he'll want another hand down his pants when he gets back because he was very brave at the event and now he deserves a reward)