#they have a nice weight in the hand. and u can fidget with em

[leadendeath]

the update as mentioned!

going good but i got the wrong freakin buckles… i needed half roller buckles not sliders like i mistakenly got!

you learn as u go along lol. but the rivets are great, i feared u might need a certain tool to fit them but nah just snap em together innit

​~this post is quite old- it accidentally saved to drafts, you see- and i got a present day update in a reblog >:) ~

dont have leatherworking tools. do have leather. tack.

and most importantly,

hammer.

[eideticmemory]

FINE LINE | SPENCER REID

Two decades and two children later, you and your ex-husband learn to navigate the world of co-parenting.

Word Count: 2,604.

Warning: Daddy issues, mommy issues, angst, drama, romance. Love to see it.

You could feel it. The light illuminating your face, touching it with a gentle heat that made your eyes flutter open. Your head felt heavy, as if your neck was attempting to support the weight of a canon ball. You rested your skull on the back of the chair you sat in, eyelids dropping just above your irises. Just in the distance, you could make out a cinema screen. Large, blurry, projecting a bright white screen.

Her image appeared in the center of the square, perfect, in place, still. But you could make out the grin on her face. Watching her dark red lips release the words, “Hello, sleepyhead.”

You could just barely muster up the strength to part your lips, pushing out a small gust of air. It was hot and made your mouth feel like it was on fire.

“H—“

“Oh,” she interrupted you, gently, quietly. You jumped at the feeling of her touching your arm, her palm tight around your forearm. She was cold, freezing, but you could still feel warmth radiating off of her. “I’m afraid you can’t stay too long this time. It’s time to wake up.”

“Hm?” You whined. “Mm?”

“Wake up,” she repeated. “C’mon, wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake u—“

“Up!”

You jolted, violently, harshly, your eyes springing open to reveal the usual sight of your bedsheets.

“Mom, wake up,” an exasperated voice sounded from beside you, the words catching your attention instantly. Tightly.

“Huh?” You mumbled, flickering your eyes up to the figure at your side, sitting on your bed, looking at you with a concerned stare. “Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Eden asked. Sunlight shone on her face, giving her the appearance of an angel. Sent to wake you, pull you back into reality. “What were you dreaming about?”

You let out a long sigh, as if you could even begin to explain your subconscious mind to your 15-year-old daughter. “Oh, y’know,” you whispered, sitting yourself upright and resting back against the headboard. “Just...lions, and tigers, and bears.”

“Oh my,” Eden responded, her big brown eyes concentrated on your face.

You chuckled underneath your breath, and let out a quick huff. “Oh, shoot, is your brother up?”

“He’s up, he’s dressed, he’s fed, and reading the Illiad.”

“Oh?” You stepped out of bed, pulling the duvet over your legs to reveal your pajama pants. “What happened to War and Peace?”

“He finished that yesterday.”

“He gets quicker every hour,” you shook your head.

“It’s a genius thing,” Eden shrugged. She fiddled with the ends of her hair, watching the strands brush over her fingers as she chewed her lip. “Hey, mom?”

“Yeah, kid?” You replied, standing in the bathroom mirror as you began to get ready for the day.

“You—you know dad, right?”

You stopped in your tracks, any and all movements coming to a halt. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you spun on your heels, slowly, until you came face to face with Eden. “Uh . . . your dad?”

“Yes.”

“Tall? Long, brown hair? Hazel eyes? Has a birthmark on his right thigh?” You listed, toothbrush hanging from your mouth.

“Ew,” Eden cringed. “Yes.”

“Never met him in my life,” you shrugged.

“Mom.”

“Kid,” you tilted your head, face softening as you realized how nervous she was. “What’s up?”

She sighed, ducking her head down to avoid eye contact. “I invited him to my sweet 16.”

“Oh.” It came out like reflex. You said the word before you could fully process the information.

“Are you mad?”

“No—huh? E,” you rushed to sit beside her. “You don’t have to hide inviting your father from me—you—you don’t have to invite your father at all. He’s always welcome to visit on your birthday. And of course he should be at your sweet sixteen.”

“Really?” Eden questioned, eyebrows raised. “So, it will be a nice day? A nice party? Everyone will be nice to everyone?”

“Yes, yes, girl scouts honor.”

“Good,” she nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“Oh, babe,” you murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It—“

“Mom!” A shrill voice struck both of you with fear, coming out of nowhere.

“Yes, my love?” You directed at Emerson, watching him fidget with his hands in the doorway. His shaggy brown hair covered his face slightly and his button up was tucked into his khaki shorts.

“My chess tournament starts soon, are you coming?” He asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, kiddo. You and your sister go downstairs while I get dressed.”

They’re obedient, your kids. Kind, driven, smart — with an average IQ of 187.5. The could take over the world if they really, really wanted to. But they don’t. They just want to go out for pizza, and get their twenty dollar allowance every week, hang out with their friends, focus on school, and . . . to see their father. You solemnly set your toothbrush down in the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror — tired, worn out, nauseous from another . . . dream? Nightmare? You’re not sure, and frankly, you don’t want to think about it.

So, you pushed on. You got dressed, fixed your hair, used light makeup to cover your exhaustion. Stepping out into the bedroom, your eyes quickly fell on your cellphone — the device laying on your bedside dresser. Hands on your hips, you shook your head, telling yourself not to do it. It’s not necessary, it’s overbearing to even think about.

Then, you remembered who you were dealing with here. And you rushed over to picked up the phone.

“[y/n] Reid,” he beamed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I heard you talked to E,” you whispered, pacing back and forth in your bedroom.

“I did,” Spencer confirmed. “She called me the other day.”

“To invite you to her birthday party.”

“Yes.”

“And are you planning on coming?” You asked.

“Of course I’m planning on coming. It’s my daughter’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Right, right, it’s not like you missed her fifteenth, or thirteenth, or her twelfth, or her actual birth, or anything.”

“[y/n]—”

“Listen, I didn’t call to argue, or even talk,” you sighed. “I just called to tell you that this party isn’t an option. You will be here Saturday at 10 o’clock sharp, you will help decorate, you will spend time with your children, and you will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. Understood?”

“I have to help decorate?”

“Spencer—“

“I will be there. 10 o’clock. I will help decorate, I will spend time with my children, I will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. I understand.”

You released a quiet huff, like your lungs couldn’t stand to hold the breath any longer. “Thank you.”

Spencer let out a soft, sad laugh, “Haven’t done that in a while.”

Chess gives you anxiety. You understand it. You can conceptualize it, and even play it. Well. But the bubbling in your stomach every time you witnessed a game — particually one where your eight year old son is playing — comes back to haunt you again and again. You don’t worry about Emerson, he can take care of himself. He’s like his father in that way, the game is in his blood. But the tension, the speed, the risk. It made your breath lodge in your chest, and every so often, you had to sigh to regain control.

The only thing that could pull you from that stress is Em. Emerson Derek Reid, the little half smile on his face when he wins a match. It makes the three hour tournaments worth it. Watching your boy play against college level students who have been playing all their lives. Yeah, so has he.

He jumps off stage in an excited state, rushing towards you with open arms. “You’re a tiger, kid!” You exclaim. “You killed it.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he shrugged. “It’s really my opponents’ fault, they wouldn’t know a queen from a rook if it was looking them in the face.”

“Ooh, cat fight.” E remarked, causing Em and you to laugh.

“Hey,” you said. “Since you’re both already out of school today . . . wanna play hookie?”

“Mom? I am shocked!” E gasped, trying hard to contain a laugh.

“Oh, c’mon, we never get to hang out anymore since you guys started these college classes and my business went up. I’m off work, you’re already out of class, let’s just do it. Let’s go shop and eat and hang out and I will write you guys an excuse for tomorrow, okay?” You rambled, putting your hands to their shoulders.

Em and E looked at each other, and after a minute, they looked up at you and nodded.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You took them to the mall. Bought Em some new clothes, but he wasn’t really interested. You and E did most of the picking. He sat in the corner of the store reading and only participated to try on outfits you guys had picked out. You both squealed and told him how cute he looked, and he scrunched up his nose. Just like . . .

And then you bought E some shoes, some vans. There was a huge sell, and she fell in love with everything she tried on. And you fell in love with seeing her happy so you ran up a bill.

“Okay, which one of us is dying?” E said as you sat at lunch. Em bursted out laughing.

“Wha—neither of you! I just wanted to spoil you guys. You kill yourselves all week with school, even though it’s summer. And I never see you, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” Em hummed, an unconvinced look in his face as he eyed his sister. “I bet someone died.”

“Em!” You exclaimed, E’s laughter blending in. “God, you guys are morbid.”

“Our parents both worked in the FBI, we’re basically trained,” E giggled.

Just then, you got a call. Work. Fuck. You stood from the table and stepped outside, excusing yourself first.

“[y/n].”

“Can we close the Pickett case tonight?”

“Raven . . .”

“I don’t want that boy in that house for one more second. [y/n], I will send you more of my notes, but . . . read them, read them. You will understand. Please.”

You sighed, “I’ll be there at ten. If you are not there at ten . . . I’ll wait for you. Let’s do it.”

“Thank you! Thank you, thanks! Bye. Sorry. Bye.”

You took in a deep breath and shook your head.

Nothing was going to spoil your lunch. Not today.

The car ride home, the three of you vibed to music. Your kids knew every word to Fleetwood Mac’s discography and it was your greatest accomplishment. They even developed their own dance routine to Dreams when they were younger.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You pulled up to your house, and as you approached the driveway, you saw a familiar car parked out front. Your stomach flipped, caved in, skipped, hopped, and jumped.

Words can’t even described what it did when you saw him.

Sitting on the porch swing.

“Dad?” Em exclaimed loudly in excitement. You parked in the driveway, eyeing Spencer the whole time.

“Dad?” E said quietly, confusion in her voice. “Did you—“ She directed at you, interrupted by her brother hopping out of the car.

Em ran up to Spencer, and his father scooped him up in a quick motion, spinning him around and kissing his head.

You let out a quick huff, turned to E and smiled, “C’mon, go say hi.”

You followed E out of the car, and watched as she tip toed towards Spencer. She suddenly skipped and jumped into Spencer’s arms.

“Hey, dad,” she said.

“Hey, kid!” He replied, before putting her on her feet. “Your hair is getting so long!”

“Yeah,” she twirled her hair and laughed. “What are you doing here!”

“I wanted to see you guys . . .” He turned to you. “And your mom, who’s quiet as a mouse.”

“Hello,” you shrugged, giving him a kind smile.

“Are you staying for today, dad?” Em asked, tucked under Spencer’s arm.

“I was actually hoping to stay until Sunday, if that’s okay with your mom, of course.”

Your very, very least favorite person on the whole planet.

“Please, mom? He can be here for my birthday!” E pipped.

Em. E. Em. E. Those big, pouty eyes of theirs staring you down. “You can stay in the guest room,” you told Spencer.

“Is that close to your bedroom?” Spencer smirked.

“Heh,” you huffed. “Don’t push it. You can stay upstairs.”

“Yes! C’mon, dad! I made a new model that I wanna show you!”

Later that night, you made the kids pasta. It was one of your finer cuisines, taught to you by an old friend, and they asked for it all the night, especially when they needed to study.

Spencer wandered into the kitchen after getting settled upstairs. “Woah! I thought we could go out for dinner, huh? My treat?”

“We would, dad,” Eden said. “But we both have tests tomorrow. Calculus and Physics. Maybe tomorrow.”

You set their plates down and looked up at Spencer. You walked over to him, eyeing him knowingly as you led him out of the kitchen.

“They’re nerds,” Spencer laughed.

“They’ve also both got an eidetic memory. It’s gonna take them all of three minutes to study, then they’ll be all over you again,” you told him, walking out onto the back patio.

Following you, Spencer closed the door behind him, isolating you two on the porch.

You sat down, plopped down, and looked up at him, “Why are you here?”

“Subtle.”

“Spencer.”

“I mean it, you should be a federal agent.”

“Spencer.”

He sighed heavily, “I have some things I want to . . . handle.”

“Here?” You asked.

“Yes,” he hesitated. “I haven’t been enough a part of the kids’ lives—“

You rolled yours eyes. Yeah, you knew that.

“I want to fix that, to have a real relationship with them.” He continued.

“You’ve always been able to,” you shrugged. “You get distracted.”

“Work,” he muttered.

“Always is.”

“And . . .” he whispered, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the ground.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “And?”

“I — I want to fix my relationship with you.”

Huh.

“I want us to go to therapy.”

Huh.

“Wha—“ You stuttered, rising from your seat. “Spencer, what?”

“Not couples therapy. Nothing . . . romantic,” his voice cracked. “But we can’t keep acting so . . . poorly around the kids. They’re smart, they notice things. They always have.”

“Spencer, how are we gonna go to therapy? You’d need to dig up Freud himself and have him work on us full time.”

“I just think we need to talk,” he murmured. He stepped closer to you, breathing deeply as he towered over you. “Will you please just think about it?”

You stared him in the eye, let out a heavy exhale.

Spencer.

[rockybalfeatherboa]

getting these mtl headcanons outta my system

This is a long ass post but these r some random metalocalypse hcs that I feel kinda strongly abt some r real silly ok here it goes 

Aka me projecting

Toki - Enjoys activities like roller skating, weight lifting and boxing (that’s why he’s yknow fucken ripped) - Also enjoys model cars but not nearly as much as his beloved fighter planes - Thick brows - Hair is very thick and smooth (and,,pretty) but he doesn’t put a lot of work into is making the other guys kinda jealous - Sometimes shaves his legs below the knee but that’s it - Does shit like host teen choice awards and guest star on children’s tv shows BUT THEN acts surprised when kids love him,,,tf bitch this is ur fault - Absolutely loves physical affection he fuckin loves hugs and kisses!!!! - Prefers making out and titty groping groupies (and maybe a blowjob) over having sex with them .. but will still do it if he feels like he’s up to it - Kisses with his eyes open (and overall just real fuckin weird ok) - Keeps the video from Juliette sarmangsadandle in his nightstand he treasures it - Mostly writes his own keyboard parts for songs - Band thinks he’s hilarious when he doesn’t try to be but when he tries to tell jokes they don’t work ,, but he’s really funny in Norwegian it’s just the jokes don’t really translate too well so he just,,keeps it to himself - Pickles taught him how to smoke and now they like to chill and smoke together it’s like “their thing” - But he’s really picky about it he only smokes indica - (This is me projecting) Learned the phrase “if u feelin froggy then jump” and never stopped using it

Skwisgaar - shaves e v e r y t h i n g bc of 1) the aesthetics and 2) loves the way it feels - long lovely legs - huge fucken feet - has a klokateer pluck and tweeze his eyebrows them shits be on fleek - cries in secret at least once a day it’s become routine - He kept in touch with his Swedish gf for a while but then fell off and went back to hoeing #hoe4lyfe - Secretly wishes he can go back to wearing all white but he has to maintain brand recognition bc of the band - Wears very slight sweet smelling cologne behind his ears and wherever else cologne goes - Either eats a fuckton or not very much during the day,, keeping his metabolism on her toes - Guitar playing for him is like ultimate stress relief and also he fidgets with it he loves that thing - Has a book of various songs or riffs that he’s written on the guitar that dethklok will never ever use - Wears highlighter - Has run into one of his grown ass children in the bank one time and had to get the fuck out of there immediately,,they didn’t realize it was him tho -  Puts his feet on nathan just to bother him - Great teeth / really conscientious about hygiene - Cold hands and oily skin type - He has a pretty good sense of rhythm but ,, he can’t dance he can’t dance for shit oh my god it’s a disaster to look at - “I look like I can’t cook… that’s accurate” - When he drinks wine he does that thing where he swirls it around like a bougie piece of shit - Lactose intolerant :/ - Talks with his hands a l o t it’s over dramatized and very fascinating to watch - Responds to compliments with “I know”

Murderface - closet gay*   *gay but he grew up in such a homophobic environment so he tries to ignore it and pretty much force himself to be straight, explaining his constant trouble with women (Bc the attraction isn’t genuine ) and his fragile masculinity (so he’s always a “fellas is it gay to-“ or a “no homo” type of guy ),, his self esteem issues don’t help this out at all - big fuckin crush on skwisgaar (and skwis loves the attention) - sleeps with a retainer - hair is so dry,,,,,,please give this man some conditioner oh my god - knows pretty much everything about the civil war and the American revolution literally ask him anything he’s like a textbook - Somebody come get this man a pedicure - He has a lot of fans and they adore him it’s just that he’s oblivious to it,,, ppl love murderface!! - He’s not as ugly as he thinks he is or that people make him out to be, it’s just that people may think that only Bc the rest of Dethklok is so pretty. He kinda just ends up looking the worst by four-way comparison. It’s just a different type of look he has there’s nothing really wrong with his appearance - Imma go head and say it,,,he uses “y’all” - He and toki have actually made some decent songs for planet piss but it’s usually when they’re jamming out so they pretty much never get recorded 🤷🏽‍♀️ or remembered - He can move his dick voluntarily I mean I already knew that people with dicks can do this but murderface has like a whole new level of control with his - Got banned from Fintrolls bc he pissed in the olives but he just keeps coming back bc what are they gonna do? nothing - He takes his weapon/torture device collection very seriously like when u walk into his room u better not touch a damn thing or so help me -

Pickles - has nose piercings but doesn’t wear em - Small ear gauges - Strong toned legs especially shins and calves - Has not had a swig of h20 in 6 years but somehow has nice skin (a mystery) - Loathes Seth but absolutely a d o r e s  the baby!!! He loves that damn baby and always appreciates when Seth or amber send pics or FaceTime call !! Fuckin uncle pickles!! - Helps toki compose his keyboard parts for songs (Bc he too can play the piano) - Kinda flexible but not as he used to be,,he used to be able to do a full split - Likes to bug Charles a lot bc they’re the closest in age , sometimes they hang they’re good buds - Watches shitty reality tv (bad girls club, LHHATL (it has to Atlanta), etc) as a guilty pleasure - Kind of an asshole but in a way that leaves u wanting more - Played basketball freshman year of highschool,, he was ass at it lmao - Idk how much this has to do with being a headcanon but if pickles was a vine he’d be “I said whoever threw that paper, ya moms a hoe” he just carries that energy - Smells like a light combination of weed and cologne it’s really nice - Will tell one of his band mates to go blow their nose if they’re sniffling too much

Nathan - doesn’t like it when people touch his hair without asking but HOWEVER if u ask before u do he’d probably say yes ,, just gotta warn him first damn - Hates hates h a t e s feet it’s like a weird squirmy phobia. He’s ok with his own feet and just *seeing* other peoples feet but let someone’s bare foot touch him and he’d probably black out tbh - Really socially awkward outside of his stage presence but I think we all knew this - Nathan’s really sweet he just ,, u gotta know him - Really emotional when he’s drunk - Secretly cussing out everyone in his head - He doesn’t completely dislike physical affection but he’s not crazy about it either - Also kisses with his eyes open (but unlike toki he’s trying to work on it) - Dad bod but we all knew this too - Slightly introverted ..he likes to party and shit but can only take that much social interaction for so long then it’s time for him to go home - Eyes are so striking and pretty oh my god it’s like they’re shining it’s all his gfs favorite thing about him - ,,,,,,,thicc - He’s one of those people that rip off their hangnails instead of cutting them 😖 - He can throw down on the grill goddamn why isn’t he in charge of snacks? - Knows how to suture a wound with some level of proficiency - He loves his parents he just hates how they embarrass the fuck out of him god leave me alone mom and dad! - This is ironic to the last thing but remember that video where it was like “son let me hear some of your music” “I don’t think you’d like it” “c’mon let me listen” and the song is just “I hate my dad I hate my dad I hate my dad” the whole time yea that was Nathan in high school - Strong arms (b,,beautiful) - As a kid he used to poke at roadkill for uhh entertainment - Used to be self conscious about his reading glasses but doesn’t gaf anymore - Severe case of resting bitch face he’ll literally be chillin but his face will be mean muggin but that’s just the way he looks - Tried PCP and ended up having to be chained to his bed betcha he’ll never smoke that shit again - likes crime investigation shows and serial killer documentaries - Will n e v e r  refuse a fresh hot salted pretzel

[siiiilver]

so you want to knit

knitting is so great y’all. 

- if you have like add or adhd or something, or you need to fidget in class or something - it’s something you can do mindlessly (and if you get good you don’t even have to look at it) and, unlike Cool Fidget Toys, you get fun knitted garments!!! 

- don’t wanna buy presents last second? make everyone hats. everyone loves a good homemade hat. they wont even know that u used super cheap clearance red heart super saver yarn. i make everyone special hats and they love me. it works

- conversation starter “wow i love ur scarf whered u get it” “i made it!” “wow haha so talented” - thats how u impress chicks it works 100% i got a gf with my knitting and baking skills

- so, so therapeutic. stress knitting is nice because you’re stressed, you need to do something with your hands and, again, you get a knitted garment out of it. stress can be good! big yarn and needles are especially nice. and soft stuff. like caron super soft.

Important stuff:

• you don't actually need exactly what the pattern calls for. as long as the weight is the same ur good dude.

 beginner materials id recommend: 

red heart super saver yarn. that shit is bulletproof strong, washable, and dirt cheap. its awesome.

size 8 knitting needles. get the fun colored aluminum ones for like five bucks at michaels first, and when you get more into it you can experiment with other kinds like bamboo or laminated birch if u wanna be super fancy. size 8 is good to start with because TONS of patterns require it. you can branch out whenever, it usually happens when u find the BEST PATTERN and it calls for needles u don’t have. now i have fifty thousand needles. i just find them laying in my house. dont be like me. organize ur needles

GAUGE CHECKER. one of the most important things in knitting is gauge. you have to know how many stitches and how many rows fit into a certain amount of inches. super important for knowing the size of ur project. i am an idiot who doesnt ever check gauge and it made me accidentally create fuckin huge hats and hats that could be baby hats by accident. always check your damn gauge. i actually sent that hat to a baby and it fit perfectly. the best kind? the CLASSIC metal Susan Bates knit-chek. nothing else competes. plus, it comes with holes in it so if u forget what size ur needles are u can just shove em through the holes till one fits about right. it looks like this

Types of yarn:

• red heart yarn is cheap as shit and durable as shit and especially good for charity knitting. it looks like this

• merino yarn is expensive but SUPER SOFT???? made from a specific kind of sheep I think v special but don't buy unless it's a gift to a knitter bc honestly you will blow every dollar you have on this without some restraint

• aran: basically worsted. idk much bout it tbh

• sock yarn: usually pretty thin, so you'll need smaller needles. usually for socks, obvi.

• bulky yarn: god I live for this shit. You can knit hats in like half the time. Some big ass needles are required.

Needles!

• straight needles. basically what you think of when you hear grandma. They have one point and some kind of thingie at the other end to keep the stitches from falling off. you need a pair of them for like scarves n shit

• round needles. these are connected on the non-pointed end so you can knit stuff in a circle like hats or gloves or mug cozies - but you don't have to knit stuff in a circle, pour they're connected so you can't lose just one. these are my personal favorite - buy them!!! you can make anything. scarves? yep! hats? yep! socks? just use the magic loop method! so useful

• double pointed needles. they come in packs of four or five. these are only for round things, like hats or socks or mittens or whatever. a lot of knitters will switch to these when they’re at the top of a hat, cause there are less stitches and double pointed needles are t h e s h i t for small amounts of stitches. also called dpns. they look like this in action

Other stuff:

• ravelry.com . TONS of free or paid patterns and its super easy to filter so you only get the free ones in search results. it makes finding a pattern so. easy. so many boxes, like if u only have size eight needles and u wanna make something small, you check the box for the yardage of your desired project, the box for size eight needles, maybe the box for level one difficulty. so comprehensive. i cant use words to describe how awesome this free site is.

• youtube!!! thats where u LEARN. just search for like learn to knit or something, there are so many helpful videos. id go for learning the knitted cast on and the classic knit and purl stitches and mastering those before you move on to Crazy Stuff.

Abbreviations!

• in knitting were all about short versions of words so knitting patterns look like crazy jumbled gobbledygook to a regular, non-knitting loser. some typical ones (some you may not need)

st - stitch

k - knit

p - purl

yo - yarn over. you bring the yarn over the right needle from FRONT to BACK, as if it’s a stitch so u just have a loosey goosey loop on ur right needle.

k2tog - knit 2 together. its like ur doing a regular knit but you shove ur right needle through two stitches instead of one and you end up with one stitch out of two. it’s a right-leaning decrease thats p common in hats n pretty much everything

p2tog - purl 2 together. same concept as k2tog, but with purling.

sl - slip. instead of knitting a stitch, you just slide it from your left needle to your right needle without doing anything to it.

psso - pass slip stitch over. this happens after you slip a stitch, then do something with the next stitch, so the slipped stitch is the second closest to the point of the right needle. you use the left needle to grab the slipped stitch, and you pass it over the one to its left so its no longer on the needle.

thanks for reading!!!! please learn to knit