#knit mug rugs

[ezekiellsplayground]

Process pics of creating some practice colourwork mug rugs.

I’m teaching myself stranded colourwork knitting because I want to make up a lovely cowl pattern I found. I don’t really enjoy knitting but finished colourwork is worth it.

[jojikawa]

Ice Cream & Kisses 🍨

Sukuna makes Yuuji agree to terms that involve visiting you more regularly.

tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness), lewd/suggestive themes.

masterlist

Full Image + Artist: bikku__2

Yuuji found himself pretty exhausted from his excessive training at school, so when he finally got back to his dorm, he was just grateful to be in bed again. This is how things went for a while until he had taken Sukuna to meet you again for the first time. Now, he bothered Yuuji every night. The helpless boy was caught in the middle of a love that lasted thousands of years. The King of Curses thoughts of you bled into his own. It made Yuuji curious about what your relationship with Sukuna was like. On the surface, you seemed kind and gentle. Your voice was soft-spoken and you were utterly gorgeous as your beauty was unaffected by age.

Although, your sheep’s clothing didn’t change the wolf that was inside. You were the Goddess of Demons. The first woman, condemned by God themself and turned into the first woman-shaped demon. If Sukuna is supposed to be this terrifying threat, he couldn’t imagine what sort of threat you’d be. To be honest, he was just grateful that you are as docile as you come off to be. For now, at least.

So, when Ryomen Sukuna approached Yuuji with an offer, he wasn’t too on the fence about the whole thing.

“New rules, kid. Trust me, you’re gonna like them too.” 

A mouth on the side of Yuuji’s face formed to utter these words. With his eyebrows knitted together, he replied “Whenever I agree to something with you, it never goes well. I don’t believe you when you say I’ll ‘like’ them either!” Then he proceeded to fold his pillow over to suffocate Sukuna’s mouth so that he could rest. 

“Don’t you wanna lay your head down somewhere other than this shitty bed?!”

Suddenly, Yuuji became a bit self-conscious of the bed he had been lying in. The school beds were fine…right? However, he noticed how his back would hurt sometimes. Sukuna spoke his new terms to which Yuuji reluctantly agreed.

“You listen to me and you listen closely. After school, you go find her. I won’t ask again. Understood?”

It was the evening. You had spent nearly all day at the local elementary school before you walked the children to their routes as usual before going to your spacious apartment. The weather was distrustful. It was spring so it would rain, but some days it would be dry and others you’d even still feel the bitter cold of winter nipping at your cheeks and making them sore.

After your talk with Sukuna again, you expected him to take what you said seriously. You didn’t know how the two of you could be together with Yuuji always around. It was awkward. So, you wanted him to figure out his situation first. You dangled the possibility over his head the way you would a biscuit for a dog.

knock! knock! knock!

You had just sat down on your couch, hot cocoa in hand when you heard a series of knocks at your door. You hoped that it wasn’t your disturbing neighbor. Anything but her. Instead of setting your mug down, you took it with you to the door.

Upon opening it, you saw that it was—

“You found me again.” You smugly sipped your drink as you laid eyes upon Yuuji. A blush of embarrassment covered his face. “He made me come.” He couldn’t help but shut his eyes when he caught the sight of what you chose to wear. There was nothing sexual about it at all—really. It’s just that Sukuna’s filthy thoughts shouted over Yuuji’s innocent ones. Internally, he ushered the boy to open his eyes so that the King of Curses could see you in all of your glory. 

“You can come in, I suppose.” You stepped aside, allowing the boy to come in. Getting inside, he took in the familiar warmth of the living space. It was cozy and suited for one person. Carpeted rugs, couches with fuzzy pillows, feminine-scented items, and lastly…demons?

“What is that!?” Yuuji yelled, pointing in disbelief at the small imp that was stalking him in the doorway of your kitchen. It was a small, ugly thing…looking like some sort of deformed animal. In its clawed hand was a can of febreeze that it dropped and ran away out of fear of the human, Yuuji. 

“It’s getting away!” The boy added, causing you to laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. That's one of my little helpers. His name is Gnaar.” 

“You just have those things running around? Isn’t that dangerous?” Yuuji frowned. You figured that he wasn’t able to differentiate curses and demons.

“No,” Your eyes rolled to the left, sipping more of your drink. “They’re harmless.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I know you didn’t come all this way for nothing. Feel free to have a seat.”

Yuuji then saw you sit your cup down and disappear into the kitchen. For a few moments, he sat in silence—or what seemed like it.

“You brat! Let me talk to her!”

Tired of his yelling, Yuuji gave control to Sukuna, trusting that you’d make him behave or else the student would suffer consequences from his teachers and probably all of Jujustu Society.

The King of Curses was able to take in his environment without being a passenger within the vessel. The way the room smelled was familiar and it reminded him so much of you. His eyes darted to the nearby mug you had been drinking from. Lazily picking it up, he sniffed it. It was chocolatey…then he proceeded to down the remaining contents before licking his lips. That was when you emerged from the next room. You had witnessed him setting the mug back down. Naturally, your eyebrows knitted together. Sukuna helping himself to your stuff was nothing new.

“Oh, Ryo. I was just making you a cup!” You scold him like an upset mother. Sukuna turned his head towards you, his mouth curling into a grin. He loved being annoying. To you—most of all. “What’s yours is mine.” He noticed that you were holding a tray. It had a fresh cup of hot cocoa and a bowl of…ice cream. In a moment, you were back on the couch next to him. It was nice to see you like this finally. You wore a sleeved white shirt that was appropriate for the weather, but it was low cut, showing off your cleavage. The shirt was cropped where it showed off your belly. As for your bottoms, you were wearing thick leggings that were tight enough to show your shapely body.

“Excuse me.” You handed him his mug of cocoa which he took. He had the entire thing in one gulp with no caution to the temperature. “Ah…HEY, GNAAR GET IN HERE!”

Gnaar came running in, tripping over his own hooves to heed Sukuna’s request.

“Don’t yell at him.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obedience. It was only slightly but you had become giddy with excitement. Gnaar took the empty dishes to the kitchen. “God, I missed that little freak.” He watched the imp stumble into the next room. “He certainly hasn’t missed you.” You replied as you reached for the ice cream. It was Neapolitan.

“I have something I want to share with you.” Instinctively, you scooted over towards Sukuna. On the inside, Yuuji felt his heart skip a beat when your thigh touched Sukuna’s. It was hard for him to believe that Sukuna could have his heart rate quicken at your actions. 

“It doesn’t look like anything.” He faked a bored tone so that you’d continue. “It’s ice cream. Surely you’ve had it since this vessel has found you?”

His nose scrunched up. “No.” He replied flatly. Or maybe, he didn’t remember having it? He didn’t pay attention to the things Yuuji consumed so this would probably be his first time having modern ice cream.

“Then try some, Darling.”

Sukuna hadn’t even noticed how close you were to him now. He wasn’t used to the two of you being at eye level. The time you spent together was mostly you trying to navigate his large body. He missed the days when you’d climb onto his lap and he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him. But he liked this too. This was—normal.

Sukuna let you feed him the ice cream. It was only a spoonful but he already knew he liked it. It was cold but sweet. It sent a pleasant tingle to his cheeks that made him want to smile. He resisted this feeling, but couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. You patiently waited for his subtle expressions. You weren’t able to tell if he liked it or not.

“Did I tell you to stop?” 

You placed a hand on your cheek. “Aw, so Ryo does like ice cream. But you have to eat it slowly.” You gave Ryo another spoonful. He grew impatient, demanding he feed himself. Of course, he gave himself a brain freeze doing so.

“I tried to warn you.” You watched as Sukuna held his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He muttered curses under his breath as he felt no relief and couldn’t bring himself to do anything else about it.

The bowl of ice cream was gone and simply a dish waiting to be taken away by Gnaar. Although, you grew concerned when it seemed like he wasn’t recovering from it. “Ryo~” Your arms snaked around his neck and you pulled his body towards you. Sukuna felt your lips press upon his temple and his cold headache magically disappeared. 

“Do that again.”

On instinct, you rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

You placed a kiss on his temple again. Another on his cheek and then on his jaw. He reveled in your kisses. They felt like heaven; a reward for simply existing because existing is exhausting.

He almost wanted to return the favor. You see, Ryomen Sukuna isn’t exactly the best at reciprocating any love that wasn’t a display of power. He was the best at killing things, pleasing during sex, and scaring any man who dares to breathe in your direction…but kissing, cuddling, holding…that was your thing. Ryo hasn’t even said those sacred three words. He hoped that you could feel how pure his love is for you or at least, him killing your evil ex-husband aided in conveying his feelings. He genuinely believed he didn’t deserve you but he was too selfish to ever part from you. 

Ryomen Sukuna wanted you all to himself. 

“There. You should feel better now.” Your lips curved into a smile that brought him peace. The same thing kept running through his head. Things are “normal” now. Sukuna despised being inside the body of a punk like Yuuji but it surely had its perks.

“Can I kiss you?”

Normally, he wouldn’t need to ask but you were confused. Your lover looked as if he were in a daze. Your watchful eyes could see every micro-expression on his face but he still managed to make things hard to understand since he was always sure of himself. You expected more of a Kiss me or a very commanding I deserve my reward for being your husband but you entertained him nonetheless. Is he asking for permission? You just had to tease him.

“Just a kiss? Knowing you, you’d probably want to take it a step further but I don’t know…you’re not exactly my type anymore.” You stifled a laugh by placing your fingertips over your mouth. There it was again. A reminder that he wasn’t in his own body or at his pull strength. But it was fine. He enjoyed it. 

He liked to know you preferred his true form when he thought about it. Sukuna felt so ugly in the Heian Era. Before you, the only things to satisfy him were wailing concubines and prostitutes who didn't enjoy his presence because of his huge body, four arms, and two mouths.

“What does it matter?!” He spat, behaving like a total tsundere at times. “That’s what you want anyway right?!” Oh, how he longed to be inside of you again. 

“Hm..” Your eyes rolled to the left as you pretended to think. “I’m not sure. Two fewer arms wouldn’t be as fun in bed.”

“I can still please you.” He quipped.

“I guess you’ll have to prove it to me…but not—“

You were silenced by Sukuna’s lips being pressed to yours. It wasn't his usual hungry kiss where it felt like he was trying to devour your face. It was sweet—no, innocent…desperate, like if he stopped, you’d disappear like a moment in time. Your belly filled with butterflies, making you put your hands on his chest to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

It wasn’t until Sukuna finally pulled away that you got a breath of air. Even he was slightly panting at his actions. You’ve never experienced such raw emotions from him…you kinda liked it.

“Why even ask if you’re just gonna do it huh, Ryo?” You smirked, making him even more flushed than he already was. “Shut up.” He grumbled before running a hand through his hair. What did you expect? The two of you have been sitting here this long. How long is he supposed to go without it?

On the inside, Yuuji expected you to scold Sukuna but he saw you smile instead. You didn’t seem to take offense to the King of Curses telling you to shut up. 

“I actually like it when you make the first move like that.” You scooted even closer and leaned your body against his. Whether you knew it or not, your chest was pressing up against his arm. “Do it again~!” 

You were literally peak woman.

So, of course, he gave into your temptation. He couldn’t resist your plush lips. Especially after getting a taste just now. It was an open mouth kiss. He practically shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could taste the lingering ice cream on his lips and tongue. 

Briefly, he would pull away just to nuzzle into your neck and take in your perfume. He was being romantic and he didn’t even realize it. It made you feel so wanted. Neither of you was able to fight the bottled-up feelings you had for each other.

Hi! hope you liked this part. I’m already working on the next part. I’ll be working in more Lilith themes to help expand on your relationship with Sukuna and also an explanation for “Adam” in future parts :3

[junicult]

okay so i love to crochet and i was wondering how you think the bachelors would react to like a handmade crocheted gift? like can you imagine giving harvey like a knit sweater or something like 🥰🥰

🪼🪼

omg as an AVID crochet lover myself, this is so cute. when i’m not writing i’m literally crocheting.

contains ; established relationship. fluff. gn!farmer, gender non-specified. drabble. this is lowkey sloppy but i haven’t posted in a few days & i wanted to post something lol. also i love crochet UGH this idea was so cute😭😭

i just imagine the first time they come over to your little cottage, they’re just observing the place absentmindedly while talking with you. the large blanket dangling over the couch, the potted plant hanging from the ceiling, the mug rugs on the tables. some notice it more then others (harvey & elliott lmfao) but otherwise they’re leaning against your crochet pillow without a deeper thought.

it’s probably not until you’re relaxing together, around the second or third time hanging out at your house when he looks over and you’re sitting cross-legged beside him, hunched a bit, crocheting so effortlessly it almost looks like you aren’t even paying attention to it.

“you made this?” he asks, shocked at how quickly you’re able to.

“hm? yeah, you didn’t know?” you laugh, now a little more self-aware of how your hands move, looking up at him.

sam would be starstruck, and now all of a sudden he stops caring about what’s playing on the tv and he’s asking you all sorts of questions about the hobby.

seb and shane would find it interesting, for sure. seb might even wanna learn it, he has long fingers & it’d be so easy for him. and shane would act super impartial aside from his initial comments, but he’s constantly looking over and watching you silently LMFAO.

dare i say alex is familiar with it, being it was probably a common hobby of evelyn’s that he’d be used to using her projects for comfort. maybe even his mom used to crochet a bunch, and he’d just sit and watch, mesmerized as a little kid.

harvey and elliott, however, would be so enthusiastic about it. they’d think it was so cool, especially harvey considering he finally learns you have a hobby that keeps you in the safety of your own home and away from danger LMFAOO.

but they’re all interested in the same thing, “what do you know how to make?”

“a lot, to be honest. i’ve got a few sweaters in my closet, but they aren’t necessarily the most comfortable to wear when i’m working.” you chuckle, continuing on the large blanket currently draped over both you and your boyfriend’s lap.

it’s almost hypnotizing them, while you talk, they’re leaning closer and closer.

i know they’d all be excited when you send them home with one of your smaller projects, despite it being an indirect gift. they’re still looking at it with the knowledge that you handmade it all on your own.

so when it’s a few weeks or months later, they’re much-acquainted with this hobby of yours because they’re constantly drowning in those blankets every time they come over—when you ask them, “what size shirt do you normally wear?” it doesn’t register why you’d possibly be asking that in their mind.

that’s not until their individual birthdays show up, and you’re beaming with a perfectly wrapped box in your hand.

“you didn’t have to get me anything,” he smiles all cliche, taking the box in his hands.

“oh hush and just open it.”

it’s much to his pleasure to rip the wrapping paper off, opening the box to see the softest knit sweater laying perfectly folded right in front of his eyes.

“did you make this?”

“maybe,” you drawl. “do you like it?”

he lifts it up, watching it unfold to it’s full length. it was made with thicker yarn, definitely something intended for winter. it was almost instinct for him to press it against his chest, even more so when you reach to stretch the arms over his own to see if your measurements were right.

“i love it, it’s so soft. when did you make this?” he asks, because now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t even remember seeing this anywhere in your house.

“a couple weeks ago. i just kept it in my drawer. do you want to try it on?”

you don’t have to ask him twice; he’s throwing it over his t-shirt, a little more carefully then he’s ever put on any other item of clothing. before he turns to the mirror, he faces you with a little grin.

“you look handsome. i knew that color would like nice on you.” you smile, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear while looking him up and down.

when you gesture towards the mirror, he takes a look on his own. maybe it’s because you made it, and it was a gift from you, but suddenly—this is his new favorite sweater.

because someway somehow you got his perfect measurements, the sleeves cuffing right at his wrists, the hem perfectly braided right along where the waistband of his pants start, and, you were right. that color does look nice on him.

he spends the rest of that evening with it on, not even bothering to take it off because it feels just like his favorite blanket of yours.

it’s an even bigger plus when you slide your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against the soft material as another excuse to give him a hug—probably the biggest advantage to his new favorite sweater.

and believe me, months will pass, even more sweaters will be gifted, yet; he’ll continue to show up at your door for another date night, cozily snug in his favorite present he’s ever received.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Adele, a mother of 2 from Wales, took 4 yrs. to transfer her drab new-build home into a riot of color using only handmade crafts, thrifted items, and inexpensive paper goods.

She took it from boring to bright with paint, lots of fabrics and knitting.

She collects vintage and second items that will fit her home.

It looks like she reupholstered this bench.

She does not shy away from colors or patterns.

She took to painting and upcycling objects herself. Adele figures it's just paint. If she doesn't like it, she can paint over it.

I'm surprised that collecting all of this only took 4 yrs.

Bright cushions, rugs and window dressings all add to the vibrancy of the home.

The kitchen if full of bright mugs and housewares.

Paper party decorations line the stairs.

She painted the bed and feature wall black.

And, she even made this wreath out of colored (or painted) ordinary clothespins.

And, to cap it all off, she used black to compliment the bright tones.

[jynzandtonic]

12 Days of Fluffmas — Day 4: Cozy Fire

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

You could spend all day curled up in your chair like this: a knitted throw draped over your lap with a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming your hands as you gaze out the window. The view from the cabin you and Flip are renting for the week of Hanukkah is beautiful; snow blankets the surrounding forest and the Colorado mountains tower in the distance. However, you’re currently more interested in the foreground. Outside, Flip brings his ax down yet again to cleave a piece of wood in two, adding the logs to a growing pile. It’s a wonder to watch him work, all muscle and momentum as he splits firewood for you. You take another sip of cocoa as he finishes his task and gathers up an armful of wood to take inside.

A blast of icy air rushes in as he opens the front door and you pull your blanket up around you. Flip has a wash of color on his cheeks from the cold as he takes off his boots and hangs up his sherpa-lined jacket.

“Hi, baby” he smiles, taking in the sight of you where you’re all snuggled up. “You staying warm?” 

“All thanks to you,” you chime as he crosses the living room to deposit the wood next to the hearth and adds a few logs to the fire.

Satisfied with the blaze, he stretches out on the faux fur rug in front of the fireplace and pats on the floor next to him. “C’mere,” he says, eyes growing dark. “Let’s get you really warmed up.”

[late-to-the-party-81]

Good things come...

AN: The lovely @mrsmischief209 sent me a gif of Billy Russo looking fine and basically gave me either canon adjacent or Professor AU. I’ve gone with the latter and I hope you enjoy.

Beta’d by @lunarbuck 

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and mood board by me

Master list

Summary: Yesterday was your final exam, and today you were planning to relax and recover. What you didn’t expect, though, is to find your very hot History professor standing at your door.

Relationship: Professor Billy Russo x College Student Reader

Word Count: 2k

CW: Power imbalance (sort of), Age gap (reader early 20’s, Billy late 30’s, kissing and heavy petting, implied smut, pet names.

Chill.

Chill!

If you told it to yourself enough times, you might start to listen. You needed to get your beating heart and rapid breath under control before he noticed. He being your history professor, or rather, as of yesterday, your ex-history professor, who was currently standing at the door to your small, cluttered studio apartment, flashing you that disarming smile of his.

“Umm, Professor Russo. How can I help you?” You were standing behind your open door, head poked around the side of it, acutely aware that, because you hadn’t been expecting anyone to visit you the day after your final exam, you were severely underdressed. As in sleep t-shirt and panties only. No pants. No bra.

“Hey there! I just popped by to see how you were doing. See if you've recovered from yesterday. Can I…err?” He gesticulated with his hand to the part of your apartment he could see between the door and the door frame.

“Oh, yes. Umm. Just give me a moment.” You shut the door and flew into panic mode.

You ran towards your bed, but not without first detouring past the sofa to pick up your discarded clothes, including one of your bras, that were littered over it. You skidded in your socked feet on the wooden floor as you dumped your armful on the counterpane. You dug through the heap and dragged the yoga pants you found up your legs, hopping from foot to foot. Padding through to your tiny bathroom, you pulled your sleep-tee off, and quickly gave yourself a once over with a damp washcloth, while scrubbing your teeth. Jogging back through your wrestled with the closest bra and threw a clean t-shirt over your head and pulled the privacy curtain around the bed to hide the worst of your housekeeping fail. It wasn’t the most well put together outfit, but at least you were decent.

Heading back to your door, you hooked your fingers through the parade of dirty mugs on the coffee table and dumped them in your sink. You couldn’t do much about the pile of takeout containers stacked by the trash can. 

You opened the door again, a bright smile plastered on your face and were met with Professor Russo’s mischievous, boyish grin.

You’d been struck by him at your very first History of Warfare lecture. The former soldier turned college professor exuded boyish charm with his sparkling eyes and knowing smirk. You’d had the hots for him the last three years, hanging on his every word and feeling your face heat with embarrassment every time he asked you a question or praised you in front of the rest of the class. You thought you’d done a good job of hiding it though, or rather, you hoped you had.

Holding the door wide, you gestured for him to enter. With his hands in his pockets, he made it to your couch in four long-legged strides and settled onto it like he belonged there. Which was stupid, because, firstly, it was a very ratty couch, covered by a slightly less ratty throw rug you’d picked up at the thrift store, and two, he was your professor. Ex-professor. Whatever. At least he was dressed down today, in a crew neck knitted sweater and jeans. If he’d been wearing one of his suits, you might have expired on the spot.

“Can I get you a drink, Professor.”

The smile on his face didn’t waver.

“Just some water would be fine.”

You moved around your small kitchenette inelegantly, trying to find one of your ‘good’ glasses and before realising you’d have to wash one up. You did so briskly, popping the kettle on the stove as the faucet ran so you could make yourself a cup of chamomile. You felt in need of its soothing effects.

You decanted some bottled water from your fridge into the now clean glass, poured boiling water over the teabag in your favourite mug and nervously made your way back over to the sofa. The entire time it had seemed that Professor Russo was observing you with mild amusement. Placing your mug on the coffee table, you passed him his glass and then curled up on the opposite end of your sofa. He was twisted in his seat, so he could see you, right foot resting on his left knee and his left arm running along the back of the couch. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you from over the rim of the glass as he took a sip. 

“So… Professor. You just doing the rounds and checking on everyone?”

“Something like that, yes. I had to check that my best student was doing okay.” You felt the heat crawling up your face at his compliment, and you distracted yourself by leaning forward and snagging your mug of tea from the table.

“Yes. I’m fine. That last question had me stumped for a bit, but hopefully I managed to get the important points down on the paper. We’ll find out in a few weeks, I suppose.”

“I have no doubt that you expressed yourself most eloquently.”

You took a sip of your tea as he finished his water and placed his glass on the coffee table. Then, to your surprise and confusion, he plucked the mug from your fingers, put it down, then shifted closer, taking your hands in his. You froze, eyes wide and gaze locked on where his long fingers caressed your wrists.

“P-Professor?” How you managed to even say anything astounded you.

“Please, sweetheart. I’m not your professor any more, am I? My name’s Billy. Do you think you could call me that?”

Sweetheart? Oh! That pet name did things to you.

“Umm, okay. Billy. Erm, what are you doing?”

As you said his name his eyes closed, his lashes kissing his cheeks, and a tremor ran through him, before he opened his eyes again to look at you.

“I really hope that I’m not misreading this, but I couldn’t go a day more without saying something. I like you, my little Sunbeam. I like the way you turned up on your first day, full of enthusiasm, smiling, interested. I like the way that you always had spare pens for anyone who needed, and that you never, ever turned up without that extra large ‘to go’ cup. I like how you’re kind, and smart, and funny. I like how you duck your head when you’re embarrassed by my praise, just like you’re doing now. My ray of sunshine.”

One of his hands came up, the pointer finger catching under your chin and untucking your head so you had no choice but to look him in the eyes again.

“I like you a lot, and I’m wondering if I could kiss you?”

“If you could… what? Me?”  

This wasn’t making sense. You? He liked you? You had to be dreaming, right? You must have tripped on your rug going to open your door hitting your head on the coffee table, and this was all some figment of your now damaged mind. It had to be. Because otherwise, Professor Russo - Billy - was currently sitting on your sofa asking to kiss you, and that couldn’t be what was actually happening.

A chuckle broke through your internal crisis.

“Earth to Sunbeam? Have I broken you, sweetheart? And there I was thinking that I hadn’t done a good enough job of hiding how I felt.”

“I - I..” You shook your head and couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that made its way up your throat. You pulled your hands from his and fanned your face, uncaring of the embarrassment now, because it couldn’t get any worse. “Okay. Umm, well. I’m sorry. I’d like to say I’m normally more put together than this, and that you caught me off guard, but… umm… surprise, I’m always this much of a disaster.”

He laughed again.

“You’re not a disaster.”

“You caught on to the fact that I have the hots for you, but I had no idea you liked me back.”

His smile was wide and full of amused affection as he shuffled a bit closer.

“I’ve just had more experience hiding it than you. But you’ve not answered my question? Please, can I kiss you?”

The arm that he had along the back of your couch was only inches away from embracing your shoulders, his other hand so close to touching your leg. He was leaning forwards and his face, his lips were so close, so tempting. Why were you so worried? You liked him, he liked you, and as of yesterday, he was no longer your teacher. There was nothing wrong here, so you just had to bite the bullet.

“Yes…”

You breathed out the word on a sigh, and although quiet, it was still the consent he obviously required from you.

His lips descended onto yours, as your hands found his sweater, your fingers curling into the soft fabric and using it like an anchor before you were buffeted away on waves of sensation. Yes, Billy’s lips were soft, but his kiss was firm, with no hesitation. It was a claiming, a brand. He was etching himself on your body with only the smallest touch. It was so much more than you’d ever imagined in your private moments and yet it wasn’t enough.

Whether it was your unintentional whimper, or the way you moved closer, your fingers tightening even more on his sweater that let him know, but Billy picked up on your need, leaning over you, pressing your body into the couch as he cupped your face and deepened the kiss. He tasted your mouth and swallowed your noises of pleasure, and your hips pressed up against his.

He ripped his mouth away, looking down at you with a feral expression on his face. You reached up with a hand to brush a lock of his brown hair away from his eyes, smiling at him, like a lamb who has no idea they are being led to slaughter. But you did know, and you couldn’t wait for what was to come.

“My Sunny-girl…”

His head lowered once more, but fell to your neck, licking and sucking over your pulse point. Your fingers tangled in his thick hair, not knowing whether to hold him closer or push him away. His own hands slid down your torso, toying with the hem of your t-shirt, until you arched up again and gave him verbal permission to continue.

“Please. I want you to touch me.” 

Billy groaned into your skin as he pushed up the well-worn cotton, baring your stomach and your bra-covered breasts to his eyes and questing fingers. Both traced over your skin, taking in every swell, every scar, every mark. 

“I knew you’d be beautiful.” His thumb brushed over one cup of your plain, grey bra, watching with interest as your nipple hardened, before doing the same to the other one. You squirmed under the intensity of his gaze, caught between wanting to hide and wanting to bare yourself to him further.

“Professor…Billy…”

“Shh.Shh. I know, darling. I know. I want it too.”

He leant back, and in one motion pulled his sweater over his head, and you marvelled at his sculpted chest. You reached out a tentative hand, skimming it over his pecs, his dusky nipples and towards his abs and the trail of hair that led down under his jeans. He watched you explore and, emboldened, you sat back up, pulling your t-shirt free and discarding your bra. You stood and he followed suit, arching an eyebrow at you.

You smiled, looping your fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, and backed towards the curtain shrouding your bed, drawing him along.

“Just pretend you don’t see the clutter, okay?”

“Sunny, I’m not gonna see anything except you…”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @luxeavenger @yarnforbrains @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @writing-for-marvel

[mycotoxin]

Hey my library occasionally holds an event where people come to knit, crochet, sew, etc. items to be donated to those who need them - some of the items they suggests (to give people ideas) are pet beds, pet toys, wheelchair/walker caddies, fidget items, sensory blankets, lap blankets, and mug rugs.

Are there any other projects that y’all think could be good? I want to participate, and I want to see what all of my options are. I knit and crochet :)

[pinchofhoney]

Hi!! How are you doing? I wanted to send in a request for your celebration, please!! But first, congratulations for this milestone!! Ot's amazing!! 🥳 I would like to make a fluffy request for Ben Barnes with prompt n°2 in the fluff list (the one with the playlist). I don't have a plot or anything of the kind, but as we know how important music is for Ben, and that he often makes playlists (for his roles for example), I thought it would suit him. I hope you feel inspired by this idea. I hope you have a nice day, and congratulations again!!! 💕

if only my heart had a voice # 200 follower special event

» prompt event » special events masterlist

fluff prompt two: “make me a playlist sometime, will you?”

credits to ben barnes and his 2021 instagram story

ben barnes x reader

word count: 1.5k

warning: none, just another fluff, no use of y/n

summary: Music has the power to tap into our memories and stir up deep-seated emotions. And the beauty of it is that each time we hear a song, it can bring back those same memories and feelings as vividly as the first time we experienced them.

a/n: hello<33 i'm great, thank you! i hope you're doing great too and the upcoming weekend will be the good one!! thank you for your request, i hope you will be satisfied enough with what i have prepared and that the level of sweetness is just right for a fluff queen<3 and if not, i hope the video i found will melt your heart so much that what i wrote will no longer matter

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @myladydarkling @alexxavicry

The chilly evening had settled in, with the frosty breath of winter creeping in through every nook and cranny of the cozy house. You sat perched on the soft leather stool at your boyfriend's grand piano, your fingers tentatively hovering over the ivory keys. You were wrapped in a fluffy, knitted blanket that had been lovingly crafted by your mother, with its comforting weight enveloping you with warmth.

The fire in the nearby hearth crackled and sputtered, throwing sparks and shadows onto the walls of the room. The flickering flames illuminated the piano in a warm and inviting glow, casting dancing shadows across the polished wood of the instrument.

The room was filled with a plenty of comforting details. Starting with soft and cozy throw rug, which was spread out in front of the fireplace, inviting you to curl up on it and bask in the warmth of the fire, a nearby shelf stacked with an assortment of books and ending with a collection of photographs from your travels with Ben, adorning the walls with captured cherishing memories and moments frozen in time.

But your attention was focused on the piano, and the notes that Ben had taught you the previous night. With a deep breath, you began to play, trying not to make any mistakes and the sound of the piano filled the room and bring a sense of comfort and peace.

The keys felt cool and smooth beneath your fingertips, the weight of each note echoing through the room. Unfortunately, you weren't as skilled at playing the piano as you had hoped to be. Every now and then, your fingers would stumble over the keys, causing you to furrow your brow in frustration. Your perfectionist nature demanded immediate success, but the intricacies of the music proved to be a challenge, especially for a person like you who had never really been in touch with the piano.

You let out a defeated sigh, feeling overwhelmed and discouraged. But just as you were about to give up, you heard the sound of Ben's footsteps approaching. He entered the living room, carrying two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, the rich aroma of cocoa and marshmallows filling the air.

“Hey there,” he said with a warm smile, placing the mugs on a small table nearby. He sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “How's the practicing going?”

You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, shaking your head in mild embarrassment. “Don't act as if you haven't heard that sound of failure,” you said, feeling a sense of comfort as you leaned into his embrace.

Ben responded with a soft laughter, his arms tightening around you. “Don't be so hard on yourself, love,” he reassured you. “Learning to play an instrument takes time and practice. You're doing great, and you'll get there.”

You let out a deep sigh, feeling a sense of impatience with your progress. “But I want to be there now,” you muttered, poking out your lower lip in frustration.

“Has anyone ever told you before that you're impatient?” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You've only been playing for a week, my dear. Give yourself some time.”

You couldn't help but smile at his teasing tone, feeling a sense of warmth spread through your body. Ben always had a way of making you feel better, even when you were feeling frustrated or down.

“Maybe I would have been better at it if my teacher wasn't so distracting,” you teased playfully, poking his side.

“Excuse me?” Ben's eyes widened in mock surprise. “Now it's my fault?” he asked in a playful tone, his lips curling up into a smile.

A sense of warmth enveloped you as you lifted your head to kiss Ben's jawbone, which was easily within reach from the way you were seated. There was something about being with him that made even the simplest of moments feel special. It was as if the world around you melted away, leaving just the two of you in a warm, cozy bubble.

After a peaceful moment of silence, with only the sounds of the fireplace crackling in the background, Ben asked with a smile, “Would you like to hear me play something?”

“Anything you like,” you replied, feeling the tender weight of his kiss on your head before he moved his hand away to make him more comfortable to play.

You scooted back a bit, tucking the blanket more tightly around you as though the room had suddenly grown colder without his closeness.

“Well?” Ben prompted, fingers poised above the keys.

You shrugged, unable to hide the grin on your face. You knew that anything he played would sound beautiful to you, and you savored each and every note that he brought to life on the piano. “Maybe something that reminds you of?”

Ben's eyes crinkled at the corners as he considered your request, his fingers dancing over the keys. Slowly, a familiar melody filled the room, and you couldn't help but close your eyes and let the music wash over you. It was the same song that had been playing on the radio during your first date, and the memories it brought back made you smile.

The notes seemed to transport you to another world, easing your worries and soothing your soul. The warmth of the room, the soft embrace of the blanket, and the gentle light from the flickering hearth cocooned you in a peaceful bubble.

After a moment, you opened your eyes and looked over at Ben. His eyes were closed, and he was completely lost in the music. The way his fingers moved effortlessly over the keys created a beautiful symphony, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of admiration and love for him. You noticed the way the firelight danced across his face, highlighting the features that you loved so much, and you felt grateful to be sharing this moment with him. There was no place you wanted to be more than here. With Ben.

As the melody came to an end, you let out a soft sigh, feeling as if you had just woken up from a beautiful dream. You looked back at Ben and saw that he was looking at you, his eyes filled with love and tenderness. “I love you,” you said what the first thing that popped into your head.

A small smile formed on Ben's lips as he heard your words. He reached out and took your hand in his, squeezing it gently. “I love you too, more than anything in this world,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. You leaned in to give him a soft kiss, feeling more in love with him than ever before. As you snuggled up to him again, you felt a deep sense of joy, knowing that you were the luckiest woman in the world to have him in your life.

As you settled back into the cozy atmosphere, you thought of something that had been on your mind for a while. “Hey, make me a playlist sometime, will you?” you asked, looking up at Ben.

He looked a bit confused, as if he didn't understand why you were asking this all of a sudden. “A playlist?” he repeated.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, I don't know why you haven't done it yet. I’d love to have the songs that you associate with me. With us. I think it would be nice to always have them with me.”

A smile spread across Ben's face as he understood your request. “Of course, love,” he said, leaning in to give you a loving kiss on the forehead. “I'll make you the most special playlist you've ever heard.”

You snuggled into him even more, feeling his warmth enveloping you. “You know, there are some songs that always remind me of you,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Like the one we danced to in my trailer when you visited me on the set,” he chuckled as he recollected the moment. “Or that one we listened to on our picnic date while watching the sunset.”

You smiled at the memories that flooded your mind. “Yes, I remember,” you replied, feeling a sense of nostalgia mixed with happiness.

Ben reached for his phone and began scrolling through his music library. “Let's start with this one,” he said, pressing play on a song that you had never heard before. The music that filled the room stirred up emotions within you, and though you didn't recognize the song, it felt as if it was crafted for you and Ben alone. As you listened, you couldn't help but wonder about the other songs that Ben associated with your relationship, those that held a special place in his heart and reminded him of you every time he heard them.

As the night went on, Ben played song after song, each one more beautiful and meaningful than the last. And as you listened, you knew that this playlist would always hold a special place in your heart, a reminder of the love and happiness that you shared with the most important person in your life.

[anonknitter]

I had the sudden and overwhelming urge to do some scrapbusting so there's a couple new mug rugs in the house (not pictured) and these floofy fingerless mitts for my stupid already-cold-in-early-October fingies.

I didn't know how far I'd get with the yarn I had so I knit a rectangle until it ran out, then folded it in half and cut in two equal bits, sewed em up leaving a thumb hole and added ribbing for cuffs. Fun!

[athimas]

The One In Which Yuu Tries Scones

The chaos trio and their immeasurably tired supervisor + Jack. Friends helping each other in the ways they know how. As always, please check me for any bad writing or ooc characterizations. 

Warnings: Slight angst

WC: 1222

Sometimes, Yuu wished the world wasn’t so loud. Sometimes, Yuu wished that Grim would remember to complete his homework. Sometimes, Yuu would hope that Crowley wasn’t neck deep in a problem that he believed himself too generous to keep his own. Sometimes, Yuu wonders what it would have been like to never wake up in unfamiliar clothing, trapped in a coffin and loaded with the information of what it would be like to be buried alive. Right now, however, in this exact moment in time—6:30pm (or 18:30 Yuu supposed—If they didn’t want to have to tack on the am/pm modifier), with the sun setting a rosy gold in the windows of Ramshackle—a lovely color, truly—Yuu wished that sometimes their friends were as callous as they liked to appear.

           Yuu fought a sniffle, bit back and swallowed so hard as to cause pain, teeth firmly clamped together. This was stupid. Yuu hated crying. What good did crying do? In this economy? With overblots cropping up left and right, the constant threat of never returning home, and having to battle both physical and mental trials on the daily? Utterly ridiculous. Yuu didn’t have time to cry. Crying was an ugly mess anyway with snot and swelling, itchy eyes. Not to mention the raging headache afterwords? No thanks. Yuu balled their hands into tight fists, pressing them against their eyes, maybe looking at the colorful squigglys would stop this stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid—

           “Hey man, you didn’t have any mint teas, but Deuce had some spare chamomile.” Ace’s voice chimed from the direction of the doorway. One, two, three steps and Yuu could hear the gentle placement of a teacup and saucer on the coffee table. Gentle. Soft. Kind. Yuu’s hands pressed harder into their eyes.

           “My mom sent that mixture over before we discovered the Housewarden’s strict tea rules, I’m glad that we can make some use of it.” One step, two—thwick. Deuce’s voice caught in a slight yelp, probably having tripped on the throw rug. A heavier step, then—

           “Ah, thanks Jack, you did me a solid there, that could’ve gotten messy.” Through the neon, burning squigglies Yuu could almost see the bright smile across Deuce’s face and Jack’s no doubt, slight bashful head scratch.

           “Careful Deuce, you keep tripping up on that rug and I’ll have to start calling you—”

           “Mrh? But didn’t you trip on the rug yesterday, Ace?” Grim piped up. There was an undignified choking sound followed by a few snickers.

           “Well yeah, but Deuce has done it more” Ace pouted.

           “Actually” Yuu interjected, immediately wincing at the rough sound of their voice, “I trip on it the most.” Yuu peeled their fists away from their eyes, grimacing at the sticky remains on their hands. They did not look at their friends at first, instead fixating their eyes on said rug, tracing the outline of a funny pumpkin shaped stain with their eyes. The banter immediately tapered off. Yuu cursed themselves, everything was going fine. Their friends were relaxing in their horrid company and then they went and opened their big, fat, stupid—

           “Tea” Ace finished.

           Yuu looked up “what?” Ace crossed his arms, looking for all the world as if Yuu wasn’t five seconds from a slip and snot slide.

           “You haven’t tried the tea” Jack explains, gesturing to the mismatched tea set on the coffee table. Yuu noted four teacups and one expresso mug sitting neatly on saucers and a plate of, “scones?” Yuu blinked slowly.

           Jack cleared his throat into his fist while averting his eyes. “You mentioned that you’ve always wanted to try them.” His eyes returned to Yuu’s as he offered something in his hand. Yuu bashfully accepted the handkerchief and began dabbing their eyes.

           “We all got together and asked Trey to help us make a batch!” The smile Yuu had imagined before returned to Deuce’s face on full blast. Yuu’s brow knitted in confusion.

           “Er—” Grim rubbed behind his ear, calling Yuu’s attention from where he sat on the arm of the sofa. “Well, you see…I had to do something for my henchmen after Ace gave them such a tough time this week!” Ace sputtered.

           “Me?! What about you, you little hairball?!” Grim jumped into the air with fire (not in the literal sense, thankfully).

           “What?! Me?! Why you—”

           Yuu sniffed loudly (perhaps intentionally), stopping both in their tracks. Ace and Grim glared vengeful promises at one another while Deuce and Jack began setting up the impromptu tea party, Jack observing the proper etiquette from Deuce, who had been studying diligently for the next unbirthday party. Ace flopped down at Yuu’s left side as Deuce and Jack pulled the couch around to make a half-circle.

           “What genre are we picking today, Prefect?” Ace whisked his teacup up (the pink one with red floral designs and gold filigree, he insisted tea tasted better from this cup and claimed it as his own whenever he came over). He quirked a red brow and peered at Yuu from over the teacup.

           “We all know what you’re hoping for” Grim quipped dryly, his fluffy paws cradling his cat themed expresso mug (no one was allowed to mention that, or the fact that he had caterwauled about how nasty “hot leaf water” was but refused to be the only one left out). Jack hummed over his teacup (simple, white with gold trim, he claimed he hadn’t even noticed the cactus painted on one side or the bowl of the saucer before picking it as his own).

           “Last time we watched James Thread and before that it was Vanity and Vainglory.” Jack flicked a pointed ear, “Maybe a documentary this time?” Ace and Grim let out a noise between “ugh” and “yuck,” an “ahhyugh,” if you will.

           Yuu curled their legs up onto the cushion, cradling their own teacup. “What about a cartoon?” The other four looked over.

           “A cartoon?” Deuce inquired, taking a sip from his teacup as his pondered (it was a dark blue on the outside with gold accents, the inside had an intricate floral design that Yuu thought suited him well). “Did you have one in mind?”

           Ace lurched forward “Oh!” Yuu clutched their teacup for dear life as Ace grinned wide. “What about Codename: Mages Next Door!”

           “Never heard of it” Grim mutters.

           “No way!” Ace laughed, “C’mon, it’s totally a classic!”

           “Dude, Numbah One was my favorite!” Deuce chimes in with an equally large grin.

           “I personally liked Numbah Five” Jack smiled.

           “Okay” Yuu tentatively smiled back, “Let’s watch that then.” Ace hurried to set up the projector against the far wall, whisking the curtains shut and humming merrily.

           “You’re gonna love this one Prefect, trust us!” Deuce leaned forward, offering a scone to Yuu. Yuu accepted it as the lights turned off and the theme began (the same tune Ace had been humming). Yuu bit into their scone which was as delightful as they had hoped it to be. They sipped their tea and let the hushed, excited whispering of their friends soothe them. Sometimes, the world was too loud for Yuu. Sometimes, the thought of being alone frightened them. Sometimes, Yuu wanted to cry in frustration and dismay. Today however, right now at no particular time, Yuu was glad to have friends.

[crowtrobotx]

o fearless girl-dad-Karl-agenda leader, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble could we have Papaberg and Lottie having a tea party?

bisenberg agenda and the girl dad agenda.... i have so much responsibility i don't know if i can handle this!! regardless, nonnie, i was feeling inspired by this adorable scenario and decided to write a little ficlet for you. c: I hope you enjoy!! Long live Heisendad. Tea Party Words: 1201 Characters: Karl Heisenberg, Original character (daughter) Wife also makes a brief appearance just to troll him bc I couldn't resist Warnings: None, unless you aren't cool with swearing Note: This is an escaped/mechanic AU because I felt like it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Knees up to his chest and forced to wear a moth-eaten bow tie he’d found at the bottom of the closet, Karl Heisenberg had never felt more ridiculous in his life.

It had been a normal Sunday, one he’d planned on spending working on that puzzling noise coming from under the hood of his truck. But when Lottie had marched into the garage and loudly demanded that he attend her prestigious tea party, complete with lip wobble when he’d almost declined, he knew he was doomed. And so here he sat, a person who had once thought of himself as the very definition of rugged manliness, in a cluttered bedroom at the mercy of a six year old girl. Karl was afraid to breathe lest the child-sized chair fighting for its life beneath him finally gave way. 

His daughter sat across from him, carefully rearranging a hodgepodge collection of mugs and cups she’d stolen from the kitchen. There was a depressing plate of crackers with no toppings or sides sitting sadly in the middle. They didn’t own a fancy pot or teacups, so the whole production looked less like an esteemed gathering and more like the kind of set a community theater with a $3.00 budget might put together. The other two guests - Lottie’s ever present teddy bear, yet again missing an eye and covered in faded marker doodles, and what was once a doll given to her by Alcina that now lacked a head and whose arms had been replaced by pipe cleaners - stared back at him in silent horror.

Karl tugged at his collar awkwardly. “So, uh, what’re we supposed to be doing? This might blow your little mind, but your old man hasn’t exactly been to one of these before…”

Lottie opened her mouth to speak and then paused abruptly. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “But I think we’re s’posed to talk about stuff. Y’know, gossip.”

“Gossip?” Karl chuckled. “What kinda gossip you got in first grade?”

“Sarah from art class said that Veronica’s mom chased her dad with a golf club because he kissed our gym teacher,” Lottie said without even a hint of concern.

“W-” Karl nearly choked. “W-what? Are you fuckin’- I mean, Lottie, honey. Don’t think we should uh, talk about that.”

She shrugged. “I thought it was funny.”

“It is. It’s real fuckin’ funny.” He was absolutely going to have to snoop out if there was any truth to this information - he always hated Veronica’s dad. White collar prick. He steeled himself, willing his mind to stay in dad-mode and not shift into catty-bitch-Karl. “But we shouldn’t say stuff we’re not sure about, okay? We should wait until we’re certain before trashing folks to hell and back. It’s only fair.”

Lottie gave no indication she’d been listening. He noticed she hadn’t deemed it necessary to put on a nice outfit herself despite insisting he don his “fancy clothes.” She wore her usual old knit sweater beneath her overalls, permanently stained from endless romps through the muddy woods out back or whatever projects she helped him out with. He felt rather overdressed, to tell the truth. She rummaged around on the floor, muttering incoherently to herself, until she produced a pitcher that wobbled precariously in her grasp. It was overfilled and practically as big as she was. Karl made to reach for it, freezing in place when he heard his chair creak ominously. “Tea, Papa?” Lottie said sweetly.

He nodded, not cognizant of what came out of the jug, so focused he was on not unintentionally destroying any more furniture. He still wasn’t forgiven for the incident with the porch swing, he was pretty sure. Karl slowly lifted the “#1 Dad” mug to his lips, and swallowed with a surprised flinch. He coughed awkwardly.

“Is this…. Mountain Dew,” he didn’t even need to ask. There was no other substance on earth with that unnatural neon green color. “I thought this was a tea party?”

Lottie huffed. “The tea is too high for me to reach! You people act like everyone around here is a giant. I can barely see out the window to scare the mailman when he shows up….” 

“You could’ve asked for help, Butterfly.”

“No,” she said defiantly, pouring herself a cup and splashing liquid across the plastic table. “I don’t need your cherry.”

Karl blinked. “You mean… charity—“

“WHATEVER!” Lottie threw up her hands in exasperation. “Ugh! This whole idea was a mistake! I don’t even know why I thought this would be fun. This sucks. Even Carlos said so.” The teddy bear gazed forward, dead-eyed. “Hon,” Karl started, leaning forward again only to stop with a FUCK when his shins banged into the table. “Jesus…. Fuck that hurt. Okay, what I was going to ask was why you wanted to do this in the first place? This ain’t exactly your style if you know what I mean.” Lottie sank down in her seat until all that was visible were two little messy buns peeking over the table. “I dunno. I saw it on TV. I think it’s supposed to be something little girls like to do but man, this is stupid.” Karl frowned. “You don’t have to do something just because you ‘supposed’ to. You know that. I do stuff I’m not supposed to all the time and look how I turned out!” Kris’s choked laughter from down the hall - of course she’d been listening - had him ready to shout something snarky back, never one to give up a verbal spar without a fight. But Lottie spoke again before he had the opportunity. “Maybe I just wanted to hang out,” she admitted with a twinge of embarrassment. “You’ve been so busy lately.” Guilt gnawed at Karl’s insides. He had been working longer than normal this week - business was good, but by necessity it meant he was away from home more often. Every time he felt like he’d gotten the hang of this Dad thing, it turned out he’d managed to mess it up again. Not on the level of his own abysmal upbringing, of course, but it was a nagging fear all the same. One that still kept him up some nights. In spite of his messy exterior, he was a proud man - and he was not going to let the title on his mug fall to some other asshole. “I’m… f-flattered you wanna spend time with me,” he said, searching for the right words and finding none. Lord, he was bad at this. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Let’s do something you’ll actually like. You wanna go burn some of those leaves your mom made me take earlier instead? And we can bust into my good candy stash she doesn’t know about–” “Keep telling yourself that, babe,” Kris called again. “...instead of eating bland ass crackers.” Karl made a mental note that he would need to change his hiding place yet again. 

“Fuck yes,” Lottie bounded to her feet. “Oh, Papa, can we also torch that awful dress Aunt Alcina sent? Please please please–” “With pleasure, Butterfly.” Karl enjoyed a hearty laugh for a few seconds before the chair finally decided that it had had enough. 

[bloompompom]

Puzzles - Chapter 16

Completed, multi-chapter fic (16/24)

Pairing: eren jaeger x female reader

Want to start from the beginning? Find Chapter 1 here.

Word count: ~5k

Chapter summary: it doesn't take long for the birthday trip to have its first casualties.

Content warnings throughout this fic: explicit sexual content, explicit language, alcohol/drug use. reader discretion advised.

You returned downstairs to find your friends cozied up together on the couch. The way they rested face-to-shoulder against one another almost reminded you of a sitcom. Well, for Connie, it was a bit more like face-to-trash can.

As promised, Eren carried your suitcase upstairs for you. You couldn’t help but admire the sight, just for a second. It was his attentive nature that always stuck with you the most. And it meant even more to you now that he was entirely yours.

You headed to the kitchen to finally get some coffee. The pot was still full. Everyone except you had the privilege of enjoying the coffees from McDonald’s. As you poured yourself a mug, you looked up and noticed Armin strolling in.

“I’m glad it’s not going to waste,” he said.

“Thanks for making it,” you said. “Eren spilled my coffee upstairs, and you know I can’t go a morning without it.”

You set the pot down and went to search through the refrigerator. It looked like the guys had bought some groceries. There wasn’t much besides a useless, eclectic mix of items. You expected nothing less from them. To your delight, there happened to be a jug of coffee creamer tucked into the side of the door.

“Some things never change, do they?” Armin laughed.

You thought over all the times when the two of you shared coffee in his kitchen, talking aimlessly over the sound of Eren snoring away on the couch. You joked, “Except I don’t have that silly MILF mug to fill up for you.”

“One: I never specifically asked you to use that mug. You started doing that all on your own,” Armin lightheartedly defended. “And two: that was a birthday gift from Eren and Connie. They would be mad if I got rid of it.”

“I guess I’ll just have to get you a MILF to-go cup to match.”

Armin let out a sigh of a chuckle, and you walked back to the main room together. You squeezed yourself between Mikasa and Sasha on the well-loved couch. The three of you were bundled up nicely under one of the many knitted blankets that littered the room.

The couch faced a large flatscreen T.V. that you would all surely watch movies on should the weather turn bleak. You could already hear the wind begin to pick up outside, snow pelting against the side of the cabin. Movie night might happen sooner than you thought.

Across the room, a cobblestone fireplace consumed the wall adjacent to the television. It was a grand sight – the type of fireplace that was straight out of your run-of-the-mill holiday movie. Woven bean bags were lined up before it, making it the ideal spot to warm up after a long day in the snow.

Without warning, Sasha flicked on the show she had you watch on that infamous game night. Jean and Connie let out simultaneous groans, and Sasha began to plead with them. “You just have to give it a few more episodes. I promise it gets good after that!”

They reclined into their seats, passively allowing her to leave the show on without further contention. After all, the two of them were still unable to move without feeling a throbbing in their temples.

Eren returned from your shared bedroom. You watched how his eyes dawdled over you. He wanted to sit near you, place himself on the ground below you, with your legs on either side of his body. He imagined how it would feel to have your fingers idly playing with his hair, just as you did that night in your bedroom, while you talked with your friends. He craved those easygoing moments and wanted nothing more than to feel casual about showing his affection for you without a second thought.

Wouldn’t that just be ideal?

Instead, Eren sat on the rug beside Armin like a coward. No, not like a coward. He told himself he was doing this out of the measly ounce of respect he held for Jean. That was an easier pill to swallow: pretending he was the righteous one in the situation rather than facing the fact that he was too spineless to put his heart on display for his friends.

Eren could already hear the annoying ‘aw’ sounds his friends would make if he were to do anything romantic with you. Just the thought of it made his stomach twist. It was the same feeling as when he noticed the endearing way Armin looked at him after his confession. It made him feel strangely pitied, as if they would all think, ‘Poor lovestruck Eren, bound to wind up heartbroken by his own doing.’

Eren wasn’t stupid. He knew his friends were most likely aware of what was happening. Hell, Armin’s screech in the car summarized the situation pretty well. Despite that, he still couldn’t pull his shit together and just be with you.

You weren’t stupid, either. You could practically read every thought that crossed Eren’s mind as he made the decision to sit beside Armin. While you knew he tended to get stuck in his head, you couldn’t ignore your own feelings about the situation. And frankly, it hurt.

You stared for a brief moment and then brought your attention down to your coffee. You held the warm ceramic mug between your hands, mindlessly boring your eyes into the pool of liquid as you sorted through your thoughts.

“Everything alright?”

You followed the voice, looking past Sasha to see Jean. He was leaning forward and staring at you with a concerned expression. “Something interesting happening in your coffee? Let me take a look.”

You chuckled, his lame attempt at getting you to smile somehow working. You lowered the mug into your lap. “Nope. Nothing happening here. I’m good.”

“Good. You had me worried there for a second. Thought Sasha might have told me the wrong creamer to buy. I know you like vanilla, but I asked her just to be safe.”

So, that was where the creamer came from.

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” you said. Jean smiled at you before returning to his relaxed position.

See? Everything with Jean was fine. Just like you told Eren. There was no reason for you to give your friend any space. Eren was just being his usual jealous self again, probably loathing that you would be around Jean for the weekend.

Eren was loathing that, actually. Every second of it as he watched Jean keep his eyes on you from across the couch. He loathed the way Jean made you giggle – that cute sort of giggle that you did. Most of all, he loathed himself for letting Jean be the one who cheered you up. Especially when he knew he was the one that brought you down.

Eren felt his teeth grind together as he tried his best to bite his tongue. He wanted to dump that goddamn creamer down the sink, but that would be a little over-the-top, even for him.

He just wished you would leave Jean alone. For both of their sanities.

It took almost the entire morning for the guys – minus Armin – to begin to feel like themselves again. Connie’s ever-chipper attitude finally returned in full force. Like a light switch, one moment he was clinging to the trash can, and then the next thing you knew, he was sprinting to the kitchen.

He made mimosas and screwdrivers for everyone, claiming that the hair of the dog was the only true hangover cure (your diner order begged to differ). Those that didn’t drink last night thoroughly enjoyed the morning pick-me-up. While Connie, confidence dwindling right before your eyes, winced and gagged as he tried to swallow the first sips of his drink.

And just as fast as Connie’s switch, the day turned into night. The cabin was filled with the welcoming yellowed lights of the lamps and candles scattered throughout the place. Frost kissed the window panes, and fluffy snow started to hide what little grass poked through.

The mellow atmosphere was shattered by the sharp sound of bottles cracking open in the kitchen. You listened to the familiar clinking of glass as your friends tossed back shots of whatever liquor they had purchased. It was nothing good. You were sure of that.

At last, everyone was together, and the first official night of celebration had begun. You could genuinely applaud your friends’ abilities to bounce back for an encore. They could never pass up the opportunity to let loose and escape from their daily lives – all consequences be damned.

You had your own shit you wanted to escape from. Eren’s weird, shifty attitude had been on your mind all day. Honestly, you were exhausted by it. Constantly prying this man’s emotions out of him was tiring. So, for once, you decided to let things be, and you drank as much as was necessary to get you to that point. Each pour tasted stronger than the last until they all started to go down like water.

Sasha drunkenly danced her way over to you. She flopped onto her stomach beside you on the couch. With her legs kicked into the air, she smushed her cheeks into her hands to hold her head upright.

“We should play truth or dare,” she offhandedly said. She immediately looked delighted by the idea. Her eyes traced over your face for any sign of affirmation.

“How old are we again?” You said it with a half-laugh because, really, when was the last time you played that game?

You didn’t budge an inch from your spot in the corner of the couch. You had wrapped yourself in an oversized blanket, and only your face poked out. The last thing you wanted was to play a game that called for you to leave your little burrito of drunken comfort.

“Hey.” Sasha shoved your arm. “Don’t act like you don’t love that game.”

“That was in middle school, Sash.”

“It was a game of truth or dare that landed you your first kiss, right?” Her once-innocent smile turned wicked. She held up a half-drunken bottle of hard cider from the floor, twirled it around, and her voice took on a sing-song tune. “Plus, we have this now. Who knows what trouble we can get up to?”

Her whimsy sucked you in – just a little. There was no way you could say no to her, not when she looked like that. “Alright.”

Overtaken with drunken giddiness, she leaped from the couch and skipped around to gather the crew. You could hear the groans and grumblings from your friends, mirroring the same attitude you held toward the childish game.

Eren was the first to join. When he caught sight of you, all swaddled in your blanket, he let out a laugh. He sat beside you, carelessly laying his arm along the back of the couch. You made note that he didn’t let his arm touch you directly.

“I was cold,” you defended.

His eyes crinkled at you while he continued his laughter. “Yeah. I can see that. Think you’ll survive the weekend?”

You stuck your tongue out at him. Before you knew it, he bent forward and pecked what little of your forehead was exposed. He leaned back just as quickly when he heard the echoing of his friends drawing closer.

You felt your stomach churn at the passing reminder that you were, in fact, dating. Even though it didn’t feel like it.

Eren had been a puzzle since you first met him, and somehow he was still even more of a mystery to you now. Which seemed impossible considering the two of you were closer than ever. Putting it mildly, you were bitter.

You pushed that feeling deep within you. It was a bad habit you were falling into but suppressing your feelings was easy for you – especially when alcohol was involved.

Eren peered around the blanket hoodie to see your face. He saw the way your eyes were glossy, lids blinking slower than usual. Your cheeks were flushed. Not with your typical cute blush but with the splotchy pattern of booze.

“How much have you had to drink?” he asked.

“I don’t know. A couple,” you muttered. You let your irritation show. While your voice was low, Eren could still make out the drawn-out and sedated tone.

“A couple what?”

“I don’t know.”

That was a lie. You did know. You drank some orange juice and vodka (Connie was pretty heavy-handed on that one). Then you had some orange juice and tequila (you were just as heavy-handed on that pour). Then tequila with a splash of soda. Then tequila straight – a few of those, actually. Then you downed whatever it was that Sasha made for you. It tasted like medicine.

Right now, it was just easier to say you didn’t know.

Eren sighed and said, “Just– just slow down a bit, alright?”

“Whatever you say, dad.” You would have saluted him again if your arms weren’t cocooned in your blanket.

Eren heaved in a sharp breath, and his nostrils flared when he did. He really didn’t care for the attitude you were giving him out of seemingly nowhere (in his opinion, that is). He was about to say something when his buddies started to pile into the living room at Sasha’s command.

Connie and Jean grabbed two bean bags from the far side of the room. They jumped into them and made themselves comfortable before the sorry show could begin. Mikasa sat on the other side of Eren with Armin on the floor just beside her leg. Sasha proudly stood in the middle of everyone, haphazardly explaining the rules of the game. Jean cut her off to remind her everyone had played truth or dare before.

“You’re no fun,” she whined before dropping to the floor.

The game started just fine. It was like a bunch of timid teens were playing. Armin unwillingly had to admit his secret crush on some girl you had never met. Annie, was it? Then Jean was dared to prank call his mother, rudely waking her up from her slumber. It was well past any parent’s bedtime, after all.

“She’s going to kill me,” Jean groaned when he hung up the phone. He ignored the giggles from his friends as they relished in his dismay.

The wholesome schtick only lasted a couple more rounds before things started to take a much different turn. It was only amplified by the fact that no one’s cups could stay empty long enough to take a breather.

“But, but, but,” Sasha plead. She was furiously shaking Mikasa by the shoulders. “Do I have to?”

Mikasa’s expression was unwavering. There was a steadfast smile on her lips, like she took pleasure in Sasha’s panic. She and Eren were too similar sometimes.

“C’mere!” Connie held his arms wide and made kissing noises. “Mama needs some sugar!”

Sasha squirmed in her seat. She inched toward Connie until she was just beside his bean bag. Her face contorted into a nasty expression, and she peeked out of just one eye. She pursed her lips together like she was about to kiss her grandmother, then placed them onto Connie’s mouth.

She dramatically recoiled and swatted at her face. “Gah!”

“Wanna ‘nother?” Connie slid from his bean bag to sit beside her. She promptly shoved him away with both hands. She was laughing even though the expression on her face read as utterly traumatized.

Eren chuckled at Connie’s boastful tone. “Don’t pretend like that wasn’t the most action you’ve gotten in months.”

Everyone – and you meant everyone – knew about Connie’s last hook-up. The only he still gets teary-eyed over whenever he drinks too much. You only learned about it at the diner, and you still hadn’t heard the end of it. You expected him to look wounded after Eren’s remark, but he wasn’t weepy this time. He took it as a challenge.

“Oh, yeah?” Connie’s eyes narrowed, darting between you and Eren. “I’m sure it’s farther than you two have one. Oh, wait, I forgot. You guys made out, didn’t you?”

It was technically a question, but he knew it as a fact. Connie was the only one who knew about it up until now. And, well, everyone else probably figured it out for themselves by this point.

Mikasa and Armin knew that Eren was head-over-heels for you because of his tendency to word vomit. Then, of course, Armin couldn’t help but spill the beans in the car, but Connie already had more than a hunch that something was up.

And somehow, Sasha was the only one left out of the loop.

“You guys kissed?” Sasha shouted. “When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your already sick stomach curdled when you realized every set of eyes had focused on you. Except for Jean. He was staring at the wall. You heard his characteristic grunt, and his jaw was just as clenched as your own. He really didn’t love the reminder about what was going on between you and Eren.

You chewed on the plastic brim of your cup and looked at Eren. He must have something to say, right? Anything. Please.

He only appeared to have blown off the comment with a shrug. Just under his breath, he said to himself, “We’ve done more than that.”

The comment was muffled enough that you weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear it. Knowing Eren, he probably wanted you to. You harshly nudged his shoulder with your own.

“Would you shut up for once?” you quietly hissed.

Eren stifled a laugh. It wasn’t his usual laugh. This one was different. It was darker.

You turned away from him and tucked your blanket closer to your face. You were always more sensitive when you were drunk. Who wasn’t? But you really didn’t want to turn on the waterworks in front of your friends.

If Sasha didn’t know you as well as she did, she would have bombarded you with more questions. But she immediately recognized the dreary look you wore. And just when you needed her to, she swooped in to save the day, just as she always did. She blurted out, “Connie, truth or dare?”

“Don’t even need to ask.” His confidence steak had not subsided just yet. He puffed his chest out. "Dare. I’m no pussy.”

“A little too proud, are we?” Sasha said. “I dare you to strip down in your underwear and go roll around in the snow.”

“Done and done.” Connie snatched his cup and threw his head back. He finished off the last of his drink and wiped his hand across his mouth with an “Ah!”

He promptly stood up and started to peel off his shirt. He threw it aside, and it smacked Jean in the face. Jean yanked it off his head only for his eyes to fill with the sight of Connie pulling down his pants.

Jean tugged the shirt back over his eyes with disgust and said, “Didn’t need to see that today.”

“Follow me!” Connie waved his arm and beckoned his audience to follow him while he ran out the door.

He swung it open and planted one of his feet into the few inches of snow that had blown onto the porch. His self-assured demeanor faded fast. His body shuddered at the bitter cold that crept up his leg.

“Oh, man,” he said.

“Get on with it!” Sasha said. She placed her hands on his back and gave him a forceful shove.

Connie bounced between his feet with his arms wrapped around his body like a hug. He chanted nearly every curse word loudly enough for the whole town to hear as he hurried down the front steps.

The rest of you watched, peeking over one another to get a glimpse. You all buckled over in laughter with hands covering your mouths. Even you were able to laugh. Once again, Connie knew how to use his humor to lighten the mood. Each of your friends had their own role to play, and you couldn’t help but wonder what part you held in all of this.

Connie was now sprawled belly-up in the snow. He flapped his arms and legs around to create a snow angel. “You know, it’s not so bad once you get used to it.”

You could hear the shakiness of his voice, and it matched his trembling limbs. You watched for a second longer before Jean said, “Come back inside before you get frostbite, you moron!”

Connie sprung up and started to sprint back inside. Sasha slammed the door behind him, and he collapsed onto the couch. He wiggled to get any sense of warmth. When damp marks started to appear on the cushions, you walked over and tucked your blanket around him.

“Told you I wasn’t a pussy,” he said to Sasha through chattering teeth.

After a couple more rounds, it was Jean’s turn to ask the infamous question. His eyes scanned over his friends’ faces. It was clear that he was only pretending to come to a decision. You had a sinking feeling he was going to choose you.

You really wanted another drink.

His eyes locked onto yours, of course. A certain haughtiness rang through his voice when he said your name. “Truth or dare?”

That sick feeling within you turned into prickly heat. It wasn’t nervousness this time – it was anger. Once again, you were reminded that you were merely a pawn in this juvenile game between Jean and Eren.

“Dare,” you said. Your tone was bland. You were not amused in the slightest, knowing that you would have to do whatever Jean wanted. But there was no way in hell you would pick ‘truth.’ There were far too many admissions that Jean could force you to confess.

Unfortunately for you, it looked like you had fallen into his trap. You thought you had played things so smart, but you immediately saw how his eyes glinted with delight. You trusted Jean, but this was enough to make you feel ill. Where was the Jean that bought your favorite coffee creamer now?

Jean pushed his tongue into the side of his cheek in a way that could only be described as audacious. His eyes flickered to Eren only for a second before he looked back to you.

“I dare you to give Armin a lap dance,” he said.

You remained expressionless. You didn’t want to give Jean the satisfaction of reacting to his rather brazen dare. On the inside, you were absolutely reeling. It definitely wasn’t the dare you were expecting, but it made perfect sense. What could possibly get Eren more riled up than seeing his girlfriend grind on his best friend? And Jean didn’t even have to get his hands dirty by receiving the dance himself.

“Huh?” Armin gasped. He looked just as taken aback as you. “Do I get any say in this?”

Armin was smart. He knew he would be the target of Eren’s anger, even if it was irrational to direct it at the guy whose only job was to sit helplessly.

“Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t just love it, Arlert,” Jean said. Armin’s cheeks instantly blushed.

You felt flustered, and emotion fell over you in blistering heat. You turned to Armin to look for any sign that he was going to put up a fight. His eyes quickly flew to the floor to avoid your stare. Great.

Jean continued to fix his attention on you. His face looked unfamiliar. It wasn’t an expression he had ever directed toward you before. “All shy now? C’mon. We all know you got it in you. We saw the way you danced with Jaeger at the bar.”

There it was again. That lurching ache in your gut. You thought you might actually puke straight onto the floor. Dramatic, yes, but the embarrassment felt like a sucker punch to the stomach.

Jean’s face finally let up once he saw how stricken you looked. His brows raised like he was surprised the words even left his mouth. Perhaps he realized he had taken things too far. Though he wanted nothing more than to have his rival seethe with jealousy, he also didn’t want to pay the price of irrevocably hurting you.

He opened his mouth to think of any way he could backtrack, but Connie quickly jumped in on the banter.

“Oh, god. That was hot,” Connie said. His voice glittered with wonder. He even batted his eyelashes like he was reliving the memory. “What I would pay to see that again. I think about it every night.”

Eren winced. “Please keep me as far away as possible from your spank bank, Connie.”

Connie winked at him. “Don’t worry. You’ve always had a special place there, baby.”

This was too much. Not only were you humiliated by the fact that Connie and Jean saw you dance with Eren that night, but you were about to give your sweet friend Armin a lap dance. Finding a quaint hole to crawl into and die in sounded perfect right about now.

You thought – hoped – that Eren might intervene. But when you turned to him, his face was blank. It was the same look he had while you ate breakfast in bed. You scrutinized his face, your eyebrows scrunching together to find any indication that this was a bad idea.

“Are you going to do the dare, or what?” Eren posed it as a question, but his flattened tone made it sound more like a statement.

What was that supposed to mean?

The stinging dullness of his voice made you flinch. God, it was actually enough to make you want to walk straight out of the room. Eren could pretend all that he wanted that he didn’t care, but it was clear he was biting his tongue (for once). To be honest, his attitude made you more emboldened to do the damn lap dance. Maybe then you could get some sort of reaction from the man.

“Fine.” You stood up with determination and looked over to Jean. “How long do I have to dance?”

“One minute.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do I get any music?

“This is gonna be good!” Connie rubbed his hands together like a twisted little villain. He ran to fetch a chair from the dining table and carried it back. He yanked at Armin’s wrist, practically slamming him down into the wooden seat.

Sasha excitedly picked up her phone. It was already connected to the speaker since she had been playing songs throughout the night. The speed at which she found Pony by Ginuwine was actually scarily impressive. You watched her finger tap to turn the volume up until it blared.

“Seriously, Sasha? This song?” Even through your frustration, you couldn’t hide the titter of laughter in your voice. This was absolutely absurd.

You shook your head and looked to the ceiling. If there was a god, please perform some kind of divine intervention and stop this madness.

Crickets. Right.

You walked over to Armin. The anxiety between the two of you was palpable. When you stood over him, you asked, “You sure you’re good with this?”

“All’s fair in truth or dare, right?” A small smile appeared on his face when he said it. It was piteous, but you couldn’t tell if it was directed at you or himself. Maybe it was both.

A half-assed giggle escaped you. You sucked in a deep breath to calm the writhing feeling in your gut. “Fuck it then.”

The music picked up. You threw one of your legs over Armin’s lap, and your foot planted itself into the floor. It allowed you to straddle him in such a way that your crotch just hovered over his lap. It took you a second to steady yourself – you were still pretty drunk.

If they wanted a show, then that was what you were going to give them. You pulled out all the stops, every move in the book that was sure to get a rise out of everyone. You ground against Armin, your chest pressed into his face, while your hands ran over the length of your body for him. Jean knew you had it in you, after all, and you couldn’t possibly let him down now.

A warm laugh left your lips when you looked into Armin’s eyes. It was the sexy sort of laugh that goes straight to men’s dicks. Frankly, you were surprised – and impressed – you could make such a sound.

Armin’s gaze was glued to the sight of you before him. You leaned forward and brought your face just inches away from his. You swiped your index finger across the reddened tip of his nose. A flashy smile danced across your face.

You spun around, your back now facing your ruffled friend. You lowered yourself, bending at the hip to sway them back and forth while you edged toward your toes. You kept your eyes shut to hide from the shame of seeing your friends’ wide-eyed stares. You arched your back with each circle of your hips, practically putting your ass on full display for him.

Feeling satisfied with your performance, you stood upright and turned to face Armin one last time. You tossed your arms around his shoulders. His muscles flexed under your touch when you brought him in for a friendly embrace.

“I hope that wasn’t too emotionally scarring for you,” you said.

Armin attempted to laugh. “Not in the least.”

Sasha and Connie whistled and cheered behind you. It only made turning around that much harder. When you finally did, you couldn’t resist looking right at Jean. Was that enough to satisfy you, bud? One of Jean’s eyebrows quirked up in amusement, like he was anticipating what would come next.

Eren’s face remained an annoyingly blank slate, just like before. You weren’t sure if he even mustered up any will to watch your dance. He had already managed to put enough of a damper on your night, so you didn’t bother to give him a second look.

“I think I deserve another drink after that,” you announced to the room, wiping your hands clean of this stupid game. You strode past Eren to the kitchen.

“Hey. Wait a sec–” Eren reached out for you, but you shook off his hand. He knew the last thing you needed was another drink. He dropped his arm to his side and simply watched as you ambled away.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[insanislupus-moved]

She leans back, using one hand to prop her up as she sat on the large, fur rug that was nestled near the fireplace. Plush knitted blanket draped around her shoulders. “- are you going to come back and join me anytime?” she hums teasingly before taking a drink from her mug of hot cocoa.

[tarangarts0]

Celebrating Artistry and Tradition: The Timeless Appeal of Handcrafted Gifts

In a world dominated by mass-produced goods, there's something truly special about receiving a handmade gift. Handcrafted gifts carry with them a unique charm, a personal touch, and a story of craftsmanship that sets them apart from their factory-made counterparts. In this blog post, we'll explore the enduring appeal of handcrafted gifts, celebrate the artisans who create them, and discover the joy of giving and receiving these treasures imbued with love and creativity.

The Artistry of Handcrafted Gifts:

Handcrafted gifts are more than just objects; they are works of art infused with the skill, creativity, and passion of their makers. Whether it's a hand-knitted scarf, a hand-painted ceramic mug, or a hand-sewn quilt, each piece bears the imprint of its creator's vision and expertise. From intricate detailing to unique design elements, handcrafted gifts exude a sense of authenticity and individuality that cannot be replicated by machines.

Celebrating Tradition and Heritage:

Handcrafted gifts often embody cultural traditions and heritage passed down through generations. Whether it's traditional weaving techniques, pottery-making skills, or woodworking craftsmanship, these time-honored practices reflect the rich tapestry of human culture and history. By supporting artisans who preserve and promote these traditions, we not only honor the past but also ensure their continuation for future generations to appreciate and cherish.

Sustainability and Ethical Consumption:

In an age of mass consumption and disposable culture, handcrafted gifts offer a sustainable alternative that prioritizes quality over quantity. By choosing handmade products, we reduce our environmental footprint, support local economies, and champion ethical labor practices. Handcrafted gifts are often made using natural, eco-friendly materials and techniques that minimize waste and promote sustainability, making them a conscious choice for environmentally conscious consumers.

The Joy of Giving and Receiving:

There's a special joy that comes from giving and receiving handcrafted gifts. Whether it's the anticipation of unwrapping a beautifully packaged handmade treasure or the delight of seeing the recipient's face light up with appreciation, handmade gifts evoke a sense of warmth, connection, and genuine sentiment. Handcrafted gifts have the power to strengthen relationships, forge lasting memories, and communicate emotions in a way that transcends words.

Exploring Handcrafted Gift Ideas:

Handwoven Textiles: From hand-knitted scarves to hand-woven rugs, textiles crafted using traditional weaving techniques add warmth and character to any home.

Artisanal Pottery: Handcrafted pottery pieces, such as mugs, bowls, and vases, showcase the beauty of imperfection and the artistry of the human hand.

Handmade Jewelry: Unique pieces of handmade jewelry, crafted from metals, gemstones, and other natural materials, make thoughtful and meaningful gifts for special occasions.

Hand-carved Wooden Objects: Hand-carved wooden objects, such as figurines, utensils, and home decor items, add a rustic charm and natural beauty to any space.

Hand-painted Artwork: Hand-painted artwork, including paintings, illustrations, and murals, showcase the talent and creativity of artists while adding a personal touch to any room.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, handcrafted gifts embody the timeless values of artistry, tradition, and authenticity. By choosing handmade products, we celebrate the creativity of artisans, honor cultural heritage, and foster connections that transcend borders and boundaries. Whether it's a handmade treasure passed down through generations or a contemporary creation crafted with love and care, handcrafted gifts remind us of the beauty and craftsmanship that enrich our lives and bring joy to those we hold dear.

[musicandteddybears]

think if i really try i can have baby blanket 2 done by end of the month, ideally. then can focus on stepdad's blanket and also start the blanket for my sis. this has been year of the blankets, i swear. :P so far i've made....3? finished one last year, 2 this year....so yeah. end of the year i'll have finished 5 blankets, assuming i actually DO get my stepdad's blanket done by then. as side projects i can make my mom some coasters/mug rugs (good use for all my cotton yarn), and maybe attempt learning to make a hat. i WILL get the hang of knitting in the round, I WILL. mostly 'cause hats, but also, i have a bunch of superwash wool that would make great leg/arm warmers, and fingerless gloves, and i just know the weather's gonna be a bitch again this year, it always is in my state. case in point, the high today is gonna be in the 70's, then drop to the 40's at night. lovely. -.-