#home-sewn

[old-hippies]

Home-sewn peasant skirt, 1960s

[saltedsnailstudio]

in the garden banner

linocut print on fabric, home sewn using recycled textiles

[bagmatchesthebelt]

realized i’d never shared this project w tumblr! i’d collected mcr merch all through middle school and high school, and then a few years ago decided to make a quilt out of the stuff i still had left. best choice ever, it’s so cozy and warm and it just makes me smile to see!

[motherwench]

going thru cycles of life. again

[al-luviec]

still haven't moved on from zane in this episode (aka I hit tag limit again and am unhappy about it)

[zhalfirin]

The Call of Cthulhu - H. P. Lovecraft

Half leather binding, with leather corners. Title stamp on the spine. Hand sewn endbands. Edges coloured with acrylic paint. Dimensions approx. 4cm x 5,5cm

With accompanying slipcase.

materials case binders board, 1,5 (coverboards) cardboard (spine stiffener) goatskin leather decorative paper gold foil, hot stamped (title)

materials inner book Munken polar, 100gsm (text block) Majestic fancy paper, iridescent, 120gsm (endpapers) button hole silk (endbands) acrylic paint (edge colouring)

Dimensions: ~A9

materials slip case binders board, 1,5 (case construction) Satogami paper (lining) decorative paper (cover material) Majestic fancy paper, iridescent, 120gsm (cover material)

[makeshiftstory]

This is on the spur of the moment sort of project, but because I did order the Wally Darling Plush, I decided to make him Home to go with Barnaby :') Now, Home isn't going to be a plush, instead, I'm gonna make Home into a board game of sorts. I've been wanting to make a board game for some time now, especially the ancient board games, but I think this is a great start towards that path X3

[frogteethblogteeth]

Smoking suit, Great Britain, c. 1906

[storybook-darning]

Late Night Radio

Barnaby B. Beagle/ Dolly Doe Oneshot

Flailing, kicking, a fury.

Within a second, Barnaby is awake.

His first concious thought is to rush out and check the henhouse. It only takes a moment before his eyes dart and settle on the lamb next to him. He isn't at the farm. Then a small wave of relief washes down the adrenaline. Along with a kick to his thigh.

Ow.

Misiu grimaces. His snout crinkles as he uses his paws to grasp onto Dolly's hooves as gently as possible. Enough to hold firm, but not to hurt.

"Hey, Doll, Dolls-?"

His soft shaking of her legs, along with Barnaby's soothing tone were cut short by Dolly yelping awake. Her eyes darted open, bursting open with tears overflowing off of her cheeks.

Her breath was shaking and heavy, with her flailing now replaced by a tremble. It filled her whole body. His heart tore at the sight.

"Woaah, hey... hey... S'alright, see? It's all alright... It's just me. Your pal Barnaby is right here for ya'." A few nervous chuckles cracked through his calm tone.

Dolly's eyes seemed to soften, and the tension in her body relaxed. Barnaby let go of her hooves, moving his arms to scoop up the lamb in his arms.

"Just a crummy dream. Ain't nothin' gonna get you here."

Barnaby mumbled as he got up from the bed. The strange little routine they had after her nightmares. He flicked a knob on the small table, and the radio crackled and flickered to life.

"Poor thing. Another nightmare, huh?"

The static buzzed just a bit over the music, but in a way it was soothing to the both of them.

"You wanna talk about it, lambchop?"

Misiu prodded gently. He set her into bed first, before padding his way into the bed, beside Dolly. She rolled the hem of the blanket in her fingers with a stubborn hum. Finally, she shook her head with a gentle, "No thank you."

Barnaby nodded in agreement. He had to admit that he was a bit dissapointed each time. But he was hardly going to be the one pushing that subject. Anything that scares Dolly that much has to be serious.

"Seams like we're gonna have a long night, huh Dolly?"

He yawned out. Pulling the cord of the lamp beside him, the room lit up in a hazy golden-amber glow. She shifted and squinted as she adjusted to the glow. Stretching her legs out, she smoothed the fabric of her pajamas against her fingers. It was just a dream..

She always felt such awful wave of guilt after the wave of fear ebbed away down to the tips of her hooves. 'The things poor Barnaby has to endure to house me...' The thought weighed heavy on her.

Though Barnaby never looked upset by her nightmares, even when she thrashed or screamed. She knew it was always just a matter of time before he would. It was the words that came after that she really feared.

Turning a lazy smile to the lamb, he bows his head toward her. Maybe out of a canine instinct, maybe just because he thought laying his head ontop of someone felt nice. His ear flopped above her beating heart. The rythm was always so soothing to him.

"How about a story to distract ya?"

Her downturned eyes shone with a glimmer of excitement. He could never resist a captive crowd long. Misiu chuckled warmly and closed an eye.

"I knew y'woudn't be able to resist."

As if a quiet 'thank you', Dolly's hand moved to pet his head. Even as she spoke more and more, Barnaby couldn't help noticing how much Dolly used her actions to talk for her. It was something he found unique and endearing.

She hadn't been in the neighborhood long from when she had wandered into their little neck of the woods. The poor lamb was lost and afraid, and the neighborhood agreed to lend a helping hand to their new neighbor.

Dolly and Poppy's temperaments were similar enough to get along quite well at first. Poppy was more than happy to have a little extra space in her soft nest. The problem only started a few days after.

Night terrors.

Barnaby wasn't sure why, but she had them terribly. Dolly had a tendency to kick, hit, flail and fight while asleep. Being much bigger and with a considerably fluffy guy, the problem wasn't so much her strength as much as her hooves. He was certain that one day he'd get knocked out himself trying to wake her.

"Alright, I've got one for ya."

He lifted his head from her stomach, laying down beside her. He cradled an arm around Dolly.

"When I was a little puppy, my ma told me a campfire story that scared the spots right off me! I was a real wreck, and nothin' could make it right. Nightlights didn't make me feel any safer."

Dolly's lip was pursed in a little pout as she placed her head onto his chest.

"Hey, I promise this story ain't a pity party. Just ya wait. Patience, Miss Doe!"

His chuckle lightly bounced Dolly's head, bobbing up and down as her nose scrunched up and her tongue popped out from her lips. With a roll of Barnaby's eyes he continued on.

"Anyway, one day it sorta hit me. I wasn't afraid of some silly made-up fairytale. I was just afraid of my ma getting hurt. Sometimes I just needed a night to sleep in my ma's nest. Though, that excuse started to fly a whole lot less when I hit my growth spurt."

Dolly's eyes had closed with a little smile and a giggle.

"Plus, learning to use ma's revolver helped plenty of those worries, too."

Just as quickly as her eyes closed, they opened with a raised brow.

"I'm not jokin' ya. You're outta luck, though. I don't own those."

Dolly gave a little hum as she closed her eyes and furrowed her brows. A gentle scratch behind his left ear seemed to whisper a 'thank you' to him.

"Now get some sleep. You sheep aren't gonna count yourselves. Other than ewe, anyway. I'll keep ya safe."

As if to prove the fact, he gently squeezed the arm wrapped around her. Dolly's hand reached to pet Misiu's cheek. Her smooth hooved fingers gently rubbed against his furry cheek. He closed his eyes as he nuzzled against the cool feeling.

The radio crackled as the faintest sound of raindrops pattered on the window.

[grunklestanofficial]

I feel like, if I get that Barnaby plush they’re hinting at on Twitter, in a few years I could successfully gaslight my then toddler-aged niece that Welcome Home was an actual piece of children’s media

[old-hippies]

Home-sewn prairie dress, 1960s

[saltedsnailstudio]

linocut banners & bunting

hand printed & home sewn using recycled textiles

poppin’ these bad boys onto the website today - shop reopens at noon cst 1/1

[glitch-in-the-code]

Hey so Cassidy carries her SpringBonnie plushie in her jacket and had him with her on the day she was murdered as well

[silverseraphina]

My second ever hand sewn project! Bicolour cotton drawstring pouch.

[jeanrainier]

Day 28 of Goretober Stickers, "Sew", is up now on Etsy!

[quietwingsinthesky]

the thing about dean getting a hellhound is that it’s not a dog he wants. this isn’t that kind of story. he fed it so much blood that it turned away from the king of hell to nip at dean’s heels, and then he was forcibly pulled back to humanity with the mark still pulsing on his arm, forced to look at the death he’d been happy to take part in for months, and the hellhound won’t go away. it’s invisible, sometimes he’s not even sure if it’s following him or not, if he drove far enough to get away from it, but it always ends up back at his side, growling and shaking its shaggy coat and scratching up the floorboards with its claws.

it’s not a creature that can be transformed by love. it will always be a hulking, dangerous thing, will always have teeth and a desire to use them. it can only be understood, and treated with respect, and accepted for what it is. and it is not leaving. dean could kill it, maybe, but he’d probably end up torn to shreds if he tried. he can use it, it obeys his commands, but it can hear go better than stop. and without the glasses, he never really knows where it is, what it’s doing, if it’s looking at him like a companion or its next meal.

dean can chain it up in the bunker’s dungeon (it will chew itself free) and scream at it to leave (it will not go) and make himself a knife to tear its guts open (that it is too smart to let him use.) but the dog’s not going anywhere. he’s stuck with it.

so. one day. eventually. he’s going to have to learn to live with it. and maybe that’s the best he can hope for, to hold out his hand and feel an unseen wet nose press against it, sniff and growl and pad away, but without biting, without taking it as a challenge.