#Morse code bracelet

[friendship-bracelet-collection]

Tour bracelets: Terrible Influence!

Of cause I have to have TIT bracelets along with all the others!!! These was actually some of the first ones I made in the process of just making lots to bring. So there was a bit of a learning curve to what colours would go well together.

First I did a simple one with only blue beads and the full title of the tour. Then I decided to mix it up a bit and I made a mix of some blues and white beads like a little confetti bowl. I made mostly bracelets saying TIT first, with the confetti mix and different accent beads. I even used some small hearts to make what look like bows!

Then I decided to bring in a bit of the pink/purple from their stage and marketing material:

And of cause I had to make some over the top bracelets too:

I'm particularly proud of the morse code bracelet.

All these bracelets was also made before I had really any actually purple beads, and those I had were more so brown when put beside blue. You can see them on the popcorn bracelet.

[ramblinguitar]

Ineffable Morse Code Bracelets

[informationvine]

Morse Code Bracelet: A Unique Blend of Style and Secret Communication

In the realm of jewelry, where style meets significance, the Morse Code bracelet emerges as a unique blend of fashion and hidden communication. Its allure lies not just in its aesthetic appeal but also in the clandestine messages it can convey through a series of dots and dashes.

At first glance, a Morse Code bracelet appears as an ordinary accessory, crafted with beads or delicate metal elements strung together in an elegant design. However, upon closer inspection, its true charm unfolds as each bead represents a letter, number, or symbol in Morse Code, a system of communication developed by Samuel Morse and Alfred Vail in the early 19th century.

What makes Morse Code bracelets truly captivating is their ability to encode personalized messages, making them intimate tokens of sentiment and meaning. From declarations of love to affirmations of friendship, wearers can imbue these bracelets with messages that hold significance known only to them and their intended recipients.

Beyond their inherent symbolism, Morse Code bracelets serve as conversation starters, sparking intrigue and curiosity wherever they are worn. Observers may admire the bracelet's design, unaware of the hidden message it conveys. This element of mystery adds depth to the wearer's style, inviting others to decipher the code and uncover its hidden meaning.

Moreover, Morse Code bracelets offer a tangible connection to history, serving as a tribute to the ingenuity of communication pioneers. In an age dominated by instant messaging and digital communication, these bracelets serve as reminders of a time when encoding messages required skill and precision, yet held the power to connect people across vast distances.

The versatility of Morse Code bracelets knows no bounds, with artisans and designers continually innovating to offer diverse styles and interpretations. From minimalist bands to intricate woven patterns, each bracelet carries its own aesthetic charm while retaining the timeless appeal of Morse Code's simplicity and elegance.

In addition to their aesthetic and symbolic value, Morse Code bracelets hold practical significance in today's digital age. In situations where verbal communication may be challenging or impractical, these bracelets offer a discreet means of conveying messages, whether it's a reminder, a call for help, or a simple expression of affection.

As wearable reminders of the power of language and the beauty of hidden meaning, Morse Code bracelets transcend mere accessories, becoming vessels of expression and connection. They remind us that beneath the surface of everyday interactions lies a world of encoded emotions and untold stories waiting to be discovered.

In conclusion, the Morse Code bracelet stands as a testament to the enduring appeal of both style and substance. Its ability to blend fashion with hidden communication makes it a truly remarkable accessory, one that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. Whether worn as a personal keepsake or a thoughtful gift, the Morse Code bracelet continues to captivate hearts and minds, weaving its intricate tales of connection and meaning across generations.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I'll never write it so gonna post the abandoned idea for it here (also as a reminder, all my fic ideas are for grabs unless stated otherwise so if someone wants to pick it up, be my guest)

Red strings of fate/Soulmates AU

You are connected to your soulmate by a red thread only you and your soulmate can see and touch (and cut). When your soulmate dies, the thread solidifies and becomes heavier, as long as the distance between the soulmates was the time one of them died — almost like a chain.

Jake and Bradley find out they're soulmates early on in flight school — it's hard not to when the thread pulls tauter and tauter until they finally meet in the same classroom and they can see the other end of the thread for the first time.

There's fascination, there's the thrill of sneaking around (they should disclaim it, as soon as they learn, so it can be put in their records, but they never do) and everything is new and bright. They start to treasure the string, turning around their fingers and finding joy in noticing the other end twitching and pulling — with time, they notice the motions translate over the tread no matter how far away they are.

They make up a system of pulls and tags, using Morse code and it becomes something else, they become something else — in the air, wordlessly in sync, on the ground, talking to each other whenever they want, during sleepless nights and separate schedules and long-distance deployments.

Until.

Things start getting complicated. Bradley has commitment and abandonment issues, Jake's an all-or-nothing type of guy and just being soulmates isn't enough.

They go their separate ways. Bradley still, sometimes, when he can't sleep and the night makes him feel like nothing has a sense or a purpose, sends little messages down the thread. He never gets replies.

The day they meet again at the Hard Deck, Jake suspects Bradley is coming for the same assignment. The string’s been getting lighter and lighter the whole night, dropping down, no longer stretched to its limit.

They try to ignore the string the whole time the training goes on, but Mav still suspects. He doesn't say anything, but he feels like history is repeating itself.

When Mav and Bradley are arguing in the debriefing room and Warlock comes in, he doesn't say anything but Mav looks down at his own wrist and his face turns white and Bradley knows at that moment.

(Whether Mav and Ice are soulmates and married or they are soulmates but Ice still married Sarah, that's up for discussion).

During the whole funeral, Mav rolls the invisible thread around his wrist, moving onto his arm when it's not enough.

It's at that moment — Bradley decides Jake will never have to do the same.

The minute he turns around for Mav, he makes up a plan in his head.

They find each other in the snow, and argue, but by the end of it, Mav is making up a crazy plan and they'll try to return in one piece. Try being the keyword.

He pulls on the string, the thread between his thumb and index finger.

Mav frowns. "What are you doing?"

"Sending a message before we go."

He repeats it, just in case Jake hasn't realized in time to catch the whole thing at first. And then he starts looking through the pockets of his life vest.

“He’s not walking around with a dead man’s chain, Mav.”

Mav tries to stop him the second he realizes what Bradley is going to do but it's too late — with the same knife he cut his parachute off, he cuts off the thread, close to his wrist, letting it fall limping into the snow, red almost looking like droplets of blood.

It takes Jake a minute to realize that the tagging is a physical feeling, not just wishful thinking formed by his imagination.

The carrier deck is a mess, the foxtrot teams returned, Phoenix is now arguing with the admirals about Rooster's position — he might not be dead, sir — and the ringing in Jake's ears doesn't stop until he looks down at his wrist, and sees the string moving, the pulling a rhythmic, well-known motion.

Aloud, breaking up the vivid discussion about Maverick and Rooster's status, he says, “Rooster is alive, he’s—he’s talking,” and it almost feels like it's someone else using his voice.

“What do you mean, Hangman? His comm is silent.”

“Can feel it on the string, it’s still red and he’s— he’s tugging in Morse code,” he says. He closes his eyes and lets himself be pulled by the wrist. “S-O-R-R—Sorry, he’s—sorry and—and—I-L—Shit, no.”

I-L-Y

The string flops down, loose. “No—”

He cut it. He cut it because it's still red and not gray but still too limp and he knows it. His wrist feels too light, too free.

When Bradley lands on the carrier, his wrist is bare and the thread pools around Jake's feet. It doesn't magically reconnect when they touch, when they shake hands.

Jake tries to desperately find the other end, carrying rolls and piles of it with him as he follows Bradley to the med bay.

“Jake, just—just cut it,” he tells him. “It’s going to connect you again in a day or two.”

Jake ignores him, pulling miles and miles of the thread into circled piles next to Bradley's bed. He can't see the floor — it's just red and red and nothing else.

“No,” is all Jake says. “Not to you.”

It'll find him a new match, connect the thread to someone else, to someone who isn't Bradley.

"Bring me some scissors," Bradley says. He almost feels bad, when Jake's gaze turns up to him, glaring with shiny eyes. "Just do as I say for once."

Wordlessly, looking like it pains him, Jake brings him disposable scissors.

Bradley grabs his hand before he can move away, pulls about three feet of the thread from the pile, and cuts off the excess on the floor.

He wraps it around his own wrist, the string thin and soft, and a little clumsily ties it into a loop over his arm. When he leans away again, the thread takes a second, taut, and then stretches with the distance, like it has always done.

Jake stares at it, too focused and too absent. "That's the shittiest knot I've ever seen."

Bradley huffs. "Well, you gotta learn to live with it."

[anonymoussong]

Looking for jewelry inspired by the hit podcast, Malevolent? Look no further! These pieces are based on quotes from season 4 of Malevolent, featuring hidden Morse code messages! Click [here] for the listing!

Want to see more? I have a Ko-fi and an Etsy now!

[jennifertfriedman13]

$15 each. “SPN Family”, “The Greenest”, “Angel Grace”, “I watch the bees” Venmo or PayPal

[maximusboltaqon]

hc that bb (and the rest of the fam) know morse code in case theyre in A Situation and bb can't sign properly, he can still communicate with them!

[jeluxa]

For Her

Express your unique message with our Custom Morse Code Necklace for Women. This elegant and personalized accessory transforms your words, names, or dates into a series of stylish dots and dashes, creating a discreet and meaningful design. Crafted with high-quality materials, the necklace is lightweight, durable, and perfect for everyday wear or special occasions. Whether it’s a heartfelt gift for a loved one or a personal keepsake, this necklace is a subtle yet powerful way to carry your story close to your heart.

[bitterbloodypettybetty]

Got a sweet surprise bunch of Christmas goodies from the lovely Amber today! The bracelet spells out “Badass” in Morse Code—how neat! There was also a mini-burger gummy, but I already ate it, lol (not the krabbypatty, this actually had flavor, fruity!) & a case of water. Thank you 💝🥰🦄🍔🍫🍏🍌🍊

[the-dragon-mizu]

i got glow in the dark pony beads on their way. imma make so many bracelets for this ritual yall

[talkorsomething]

I guess it's because the season is so long that i've gone from digging myself back out of the pit to ...progress? Maybe? to whatever this is, shovel in hand again.

Well, I'm trying. Not that "trying" is good enough, but... that's where we're at.

[ramblinguitar]

Sleep Token “Show Me Those Pretty White Jaws” Morse Code Bracelet

[repost-grimoire]

I feel like not enough people know that you can just go do witchcraft. Like yeah, all the pretty and aesthetic things you see online can be really expensive, and if you live in a place where witchcraft is frowned upon it can be hard to hide things, but your practice can literally be anything you want.

Part of my practice is making friendship bracelets with colors of what I want to manifest. I learned morse code and tie my goals into the bracelet. It look like a normal bracelet, no one would know the difference unless I told them. Your manifestations and spells can be verbal and whispered to the wind, your sigils can look like doodled stars or stick figures, your altar doesn't need to be anything more than the tools you use (if you even need an altar). You can put spells together based on what you have and what the things around you mean to you.

You do not need to buy things for witchcraft or have a very visible practice, just do what feels right for you. Your practice is what you make it.

[unnonexistence]

have just discovered that the other half is hunting down bugs

i think about half of learning to code is sitting around puzzled by something going "there HAS to be an easy way to do this" until you remember the right term to google

[anonymoussong]

Looking for jewelry inspired by the hit podcast, "The Magnus Archives"? Look no further! These pieces are based on quotes throughout the series, featuring hidden Morse Code messages! Click [here] and [here] for the listings!

Want to see more? I have a Ko-fi and an Etsy now!

[itneverendshere]

omg omg i’m completely inlove with bartender reader and rafe!! what if the reader saves up her money to get rafe something special as a just because gift, something to show that shes grateful for him or maybe handmade some gift for him

it hits different 'cause it's you - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 2.5k

thank you so much for loving them and for you request 🫂

Between your hours at the country club, the odd gigs squeezed in wherever you could manage, and scrimping every dollar, you’d finally pulled it off. You had something for Rafe.

You turned the bracelet over in your fingers, the silver links catching the low glow of your bedroom lamp. At first, the idea felt absurd—buying him a gift. Rafe could walk into any store and come out with whatever he wanted, no hesitation. But that wasn’t what this was about.

This was your first birthday together, and you wanted to give him something that came from you.

Something that expressed your gratefulness.

Even though you’d heard the rumors, the stories about how reckless or cruel he could be—and sure, you’d seen pieces of that side—he was never that way with you. He was careful, always tried to impress you with the extravagant stuff—you didn’t need the flashy gifts or the five-star dinners, though he insisted on both.

You needed him. The Rafe you knew when it was just the two of you sitting in his truck by the beach, laughing over nothing.

A handmade bracelet, not the least bit flashy but incredibly personal.

You’d saved up for the silver chain, it was still a simple one but nice nonetheless. The charms though, were the important part. Tiny reminders of things you’d shared: a compass for those late-night drives home where you’d just get lost on purpose, a wave for the time he dragged you out surfing (even though you had no idea what you were doing), and a tiny heart because, well, obvious reasons. 

You didn’t care if he thought it was dumb.

You’d spent weeks working on it between shifts, sneaking away to the little craft store on the mainland to find the perfect pieces. It wasn’t expensive, but it had you in it—your time, your memories, your effort. You hoped that was enough.

You’d been nervous all day, counting down the minutes until you could finally give it to him.

Rafe picked you up after work, his grin lighting up the parking lot on itself. Hours later, the two of you are sitting on the hood of his truck, the ocean breeze cool against your skin. His birthday dinner was perfect, of course—he made sure of that.

He insisted on a cute restaurant by the beach, his favorite, and the sunset view had been unreal, lsomething out of a movie. But you've been quieter since.

Rafe nudges you with his shoulder.

“What’s up, baby? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

You fumbl with the zipper of your purse, pulling out the small, wrapped box. “I… I got you something.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up. “For me?”

“No, for the other guy I’m dating,” you tease, 80% sure your heartbeat was trying to tap out Morse code for help. “Yeah, for you.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

“I know. But I wanted to.”

He carefully unwraps the box, lifting the bracelet free.

The charms glint as he turns it in his hand, catching the light with each movement. He stays quiet long enough for doubt to eat at you—your stomach sinking as you wonder if he thinks it looks cheap, lame compared to everything he's used to.

But then he looks at you, blue eyes tender.

“You made this?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, hands twisting in your lap. “It’s nothing big. Just… little things that made me think of us.”

Rafe continue to study the bracelet, fingers brushing over each charm. Then, still silent, he slips it onto his wrist. The silver chain sits snug beneath his sleek watch, mismatched, imperfect—not belonging.

He doesn't seem to notice—or care.

“You can wear it as a keychain if you want— or, I dunno, maybe keep it somewhere. You don’t have to wear it,” you added quickly, still torn about your decision. You feel stupid.

Of course he isn't going to wear it, not with all his luxury watches. It's okay if he turns it into a keychain.

Rafe glanced at his wrist, then back at you, “I'm wearing it."

You blink in stupor.

“You don’t have to just because I gave it to you.”

“Course I do.”

Your cheeks are halfway warm as you fidget with the hem of your shirt, not sure what to say next. Damn him.

Rafe grins, and you're sure he can read your mind at this point. He's always so in tune with your emotions...it's scary.

“What?” he hums. “You think I wouldn’t like it?”

“I mean…You wear designer everything. This is… it’s kinda cheap compared to that.”

He gave chuckled, shaking his head. “You made it, that’s what I care about.” He paused, then added softly, “It’s from you."

Your heart does a crazy backflip, and you had to bite back the stupid smile spreading across your face.

“You’re serious?”

“F'course I’m serious. This is us.” He holds up his wrist, the bracelet. “Every charm means something, right?”

“Yeah,” you breath, feeling shy. “I didn’t want you to feel like I couldn’t give you something better.”

He turns fully towards you, his hands cupping your face.

“Better? Baby, no. This is perfect. No one’s ever given me something like this before.” He pecks your forehead, and you feel yourself melting like a cone of ice cream in the Kidare heat. “I don’t need ‘better’ or more expensive shit. I need this.”

You fall into him, feeling the warmth of his body, his chest under your cheek. It's hard to wrap your head around the fact that someone like Rafe—who could literally have anything he desired—wanted something as simple as a handmade bracelet.

“I’m glad you like it,” you confess, too lazy to move from your favorite place on Earth.

“I don’t just like it. I love it,” He murmurs against your hair, lips grazing the skin. “And I love you.”

That did it. 

Your stomach flutters, it's even harder to fight that big, stupid, giddy smile you only get when you are with him.

“I love you too."

He kisses you then—confident, familiar, the way he never showed anyone else. He always kissed you like he didn’t have anywhere else, he was meant to do it all day. His hand stay at the side of your neck, brushing your skin once before going still.

Somehow, every time feels a little different with him.

When he pulls back, you nearly gawk at him, how pretty he looks when he's got traces of you on his lips.

Rafe glances, at his wrist, "Never takin’ this off, y'know.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay, let’s not get crazy.”

He smirks, hiding it by leaving a kiss on your temple.

“No, I mean it. It’s a part of us now.”

“Not even when you shower?”

You can feel the shit-eating grin against your temple,.

“You thinkin’ about me showering?”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks are already scorching as you try and fail to keep a straight face. "Shut up."

“That’s not what you were sayin’—”

“Okayyyy,” You interrupt pushing him away, “We get it.”

You turn your face away, hiding your grin as he laughs, that rumbling sound that always makes you want to kiss him stupid. Being with Rafe is like that—playful and intense, always keeping you on your toes but making you feel safe in a way you didn't see coming.

“You’re ridiculous,” You scoff mockingly, trying to sound exasperated though the smile on your face gives you away.

He wrapps an arm around your figure, the two of you going silent, with the waves crashing in the background, the air cool but not cold. Everything feels easy in moments like this.

“I’m serious though,” Rafe interrupts. “No one’s ever done anythin’ like this for me before. You don’t know how much it means.”

His fingers absentmindedly trace the bracelet again. Your heart swells knowing that something as simple as a handmade gift can mean so much to someone like him. Rafe has everything—money, cars, houses. But, for once, he needed something that couldn’t be bought.

“I’m glad,” You squeeze his hand, your throat tightening with emotion. “I wanted you to know that I see you."

“You do. You really do.”

You look up at him, your eyes meeting in the sunsent light. It hits you how much he has become a part of your life, how much he has broken down those walls you cherished before.

“I’m not taking it off,” He repeats, more serious this time, needing you to take his words for it.

“Okay, Rafe. Whatever you say.”

“But you’re still givin’ me birthday sex, right?”

You groan in annoyance. “I pour my heart out, and this is where you go?”

He grins, that mischievous expression of his.

“What? It's my birthday, after all.” His voice drops playfully, the way it always does when he's aiming to push your buttons.

You roll your eyes, pretending to be all serious, but he pulls your wrist, yanking you closer until your forehead rests against his.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” He admits, lips brushing yours, “But you love me anyway.”

Your body doing that stupid flutter thing again.

“Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” He raises unimpressed brow, looking all mock offended.

As a retaliation, you peck his cheek before he can spit out something nasty, like he always does. “Of course I love you. Birthday sex or not.”

Rafe chuckles, flirty hands slipping down to grab a handfull of your ass., “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You try to glare.

“I don’t have to admit anything. But maybe... if you’re lucky..”

You feel the hitch in his breath. There's something oddly satisfying about getting under his skin like this—watching him lose control when you play it right back.

"Now who's teasing’?" he murmurs as he grazes down your neck, leaving lingering kisses that make it hard to keep your thoughts straight.

"You started it," You sass back, fingers finding his polo's collar, tugging on it until there's hardly any space left between you.

Your legs end up draped over his, his hands on your thighs as you settle deeper into his lap. His greedy mouth traces your jaw, savoring every second of this, and your head tilts back instinctively, giving him more room.

God, he knows exactly how to make you melt without any effort.

Rafe’s hands move back to your hips, fingers digging into the skin.

“You’re gonna drive me insane."

You lean into him, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest as he finally kissed you. His hand came up to hold the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in that gentle way that makes you flutter.

He tilts his head slightly, angling the kiss, savoring every second he gets to have you this close. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as his other hand traces gentle circles along your thigh.

“Y’know I’m crazy about you, right?” he murmurs against your lips.

You nod bashfully, biting your lip. “Yeah. Happy birthday, baby.”

He rests his forehead against yours, greedy fingers still tracing weird patterns on your leg. Then, in the same casual tone he usually uses when he's asking what to eat for dinner, he goes, “You know, you should make the same bracelets for our kids when we have them.”

Your brain screeches to a stop.

Wait, what?

You dumbly blink up at him, heart skipping a beat for a completely different reason now. “I’m sorry, what?”

He grins, pretending like he didn’t just casually drop the most insane statement ever. “I’m serious. One day, when we have kids—you should make them little bracelets like this. It'll be a thing.”

You stare at him, gobsmacked, trying to wrap your head around what he insinuated.

“We’ve been together, what… less than a year? And you’re talking about kids?”

He shrugs, unfazed by the shock on your face. “Yeah, why not? I can see it, y’know? You, me, little mini-us running around—driving us crazy. It’d be fun."

Kids? Your kids? Together? You try to picture it for a second—little versions of Rafe, with his mischievous ways and messy hair, running around. 

“Wait, hold up—you want kids with me?”

 “Yeah.”

“Plural?”

“Yeah. A few. Maybe more.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “A few? Oh my God, you’re insane.”

He smirk, pleased with himself.

“What, you can’t picture it? I bet they’d have your eyes. Or my attitude. Definitely my attitude.”

“Great, that’s exactly what the world needs.”

Rafe chuckles, dragging you directly against his chest.

“Not tomorrow. But one day. You’d be a great mom, don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile nonetheless. “Okay, maybe once. Can we get through your birthday first?”

“Fine, fine. But just so you know, when the time comes, I want the little bracelets.”

“I’ll consider it... if they don’t take after you too much.”

“Oh, they will. And you’re gonna love every second of it.”