#quilted jacke

[hikingofthenoldor]

Fat Cock Pride Flag

aka a quick sketch of my literal shower thought on how to maximize nazi annoyance by means of designing a special pride flag

No (semi) seriously tho. Take our beloved Fette Henne but make her actual poultry and gay and maybe also trans (make her a fat cock is what I am saying) and slap that wondrous bird on our boring old black red and golden banner. Et voilà, a very fine piece of art designed specifically to drive any nationalist right-wing homophobe crazy and make you, mein linksgrünversiffter Freund, comfortable to wear the colours of Schland again.

[rosymothquilts]

had some left over fabric from my last halloween table runner, so i decided to experiment with some quilting. i really like how it turned out : )

[nymphfayrie]

[raggednorth]

When I left a job a few years ago I made quilts for two of my favorite coworkers. One is a HUGE fan of "Nightmare Before Christmas" and the other went to school for chemistry (and wound up finding a job in that field eventually).

[bevanne46]

[gingerbredman1989]

Quilted version of "Jack and Jill"

NightCafe AI

[kaibaspuppy]

you dip your pasta???

yes. a side effect of my sensory issues swag

[vafibrearts]

Hello Friends and Happy Tuesday!

Now that we’re a week into the month of March, it’s time to release the next instalment of the Summer Garden BoM!

This month’s block is called Jack’s Delight!  It features half square triangles and bias sewn seams, both of which are challenges we’ve already overcome in past blocks!  There’s lots of different ways to use colour placement to alter the effect of this block, so I can’t wait to see what all of you choose to do with it!

Check out the full instructions on the Fibre Arts blog!

[skin-quilt]

MY BROTHERS AN I WENT IN ON A BIRTHDAY PRESENT FOR OUR MOM AND DECIDED TO EACH WRAP OUR THIRD OF IT. I WRAPPED MY THIRD IN A BLUE LADIES BLOUSE, ONE THIRD WAS WRAPPED IN A JACK KEROUAC BOOK AND THE LAST THIRD WAS WRAPPED IN TOILET PAPER.

[platinumsonsews]

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[authormarialberg]

Decorating for the Halloween Party

[rosymothquilts]

halloween table runner commission 🎃👻

[savethepinecones]

he loves his quilt

[icarusredwings]

What things smell like according to Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine. A series of smell based headcanons. Do with these whatever you want :)

People:

Ororo: burnt marshmellows, rain, chunky chocolate chip cookies, protien shakes, spansih rice, chillies, and cocoa butter. She always smells great.

Scott: cucumber shampoo, the remaints of a bonfire the next day, fresh dry cleaning, axe shower gel, lavender sheets

Jean: caramel latte, lavender sheets, vanilla spiced chai, books, mint ice cream, fruit smoothies, stinky hair product, lemon poppy seed muffins, sassafras

Hank: Books, sanatizer, various chemicals, a very specifc fur dander, kinda musky but in a 'im covered in fur and sweaty' kind of way.

Rouge: "Dolly Parton", brick and concrete dust, cherry blossoms body spray, freshly engraved wood, strawberries and milk conditioner, spicy gaucamole and freshly sizzled sausages.

Gambit: tv static, a fresh deck of cards at the casino, spicy jumbo, gin, lime jello, hair gel, "suprisingly good actually"

Kurt: brimstone, smoke from franckinsense, myrrh, a less smelling dander then hank, Holy chrism oil (olive oil and Balsam made by catholic priests), metal, and blue raspberry. Fur/ beard pomade sometimes for special ocassions.

Morph: even when changed he can smell is sandlewood shampoo, he smells like how "Jack Outta smell", latex, pine and cedar, clear nail polish, "that ugly quilt that your grandma kept on the back of her couch that was the warmest, softest thing you've ever slept with."

Charles: Old man fart, metal, chalk, shoe polish, nutmeg, wool, "a trusting hug", books, mahogany, expensive champagne.

Laura: "teen spirit", a shitty cheap "girl power" deodorant that doesn't do well hiding the sweat, apples and peaches, kinda woodsy.

Wade: Cancer, gun smoke, citrus dish soap, blood, oranges, taco sauce, infected skin once in awhile, red dye 40, slight over cooked and crispy apple pie, sugary cereal

Puppins: wet dog, dog dander, oatmeal senstive skin puppy shampoo, chicken, "the dirtest trash she can find to roll in on her walk"

Althea: Old lady, way too strong perfumes, butter biscuits, tea, peppermint candies, more cocaine, "baby powder", lanvender linens, cotton and daisy's Landry detergent.

Feelings/emotions:

Big/serious lies: smell like Gasoline and salty sand near the sea.

Small fibs/playful/ teasing lies: smell like Anise

Lies with decent intentions/are bent truths: smell like honey

Those two are easily mixed up.

Innocent (the person truly believes it. Ex. A child saying dinos are real) truth: smells like thick vanilla creamer.

Filling, whole truths (the person knows for a fact its a truth) smells: like fresh baked rolls/buns

Cancer smells vary like: urine, nail polish remover, some people have a pungent semi sweet smell like rotting fruit, and tar is another smell, depending on which part of the body. If already in late stages, one can smell like cadavers. Even spicy almost.

Pregnant people vary in scent but he can smell the rise of different hormones: Some hormones sweeter then other. If you asked him he would say cinnamon or dying roses. If you're later in your term the scents are more soft like lotion or custard. Lemon ussually.

Serotonin; cheese, lemon cakes, fruity, a bit light, and flakey like a pastry. Marshmellow fluff.

Dopamine; sweet fresh coffee, doritos(?), cocaine. Don't ask why he knows what cocaine smells like. He was alive during coke cocaine.

Endorphins; Sweaty Sex, mint, dark chocolate, violets, chemicals, varies by persons pheromones

Oxytocin; "playful cherries", freshly washed cotton pillows, the warmth of a bath, skin on skin hugs, strawberries

Joy/relaxation/relief: Jasmine, vanilla sugar cookies, fresh soup.

Anger/disapproval/hurt: smoke, the back end of a cigarette, spicy curry, iron, blood, "spoiled raw chicken left out too long"

Fear/excitment/anxiousness: Adrenaline smells like oil, paint, salty pretzels almost.

Tears: Oceans, lillies, fresh water lakes

[bevanne46]

Only 13 weeks to Halloween. Have you planned your kid’s costume yet?

I have ON SALE - Nonwoven Iconic Halloween Tote Bags

Normally, $10 each with buy 2 or more and you get $2 off each additional bag. But right now they are only $8 each and you will still get $2 off each additional bag!!

Perfect for Halloween Trick or Treating but can also be used for Groceries, School Supplies, Craft Supplies, Shopping, or whatever your needs

Each Bag Measures Approx. 15” x 17”

Cute Monsters

Jack-o-Lanterns

Haunted Houses

Ghosts

Black Cats

Green Frankenstein

Find this deal here:

[bonezone44]

Tender This (21+)

Uncle!Jack Whiskey x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a bad dream and ask to sleep with your Uncle Jack.

Word Count: 2064

tags: dub-con/non-con somno. thigh grinding. coming in pants. Reader is the aggressor ! nicknames for Reader: baby, angel, niece.

+++

By the time you opened your eyes, the nightmare was gone from your mind. The foreboding visuals that caused you to feel cornered and terrorized were erased. Unfortunately, though, your body and heart were slower to rid you of the experience. You didn’t think twice before hopping out of bed and heading down to your Uncle Jack’s room. You didn’t care that all you wore were your cotton pajamas.

You could hear the drone of the TV from the hallway, lights flashing from the crack of his door. Knowing he was still awake was a relief, but it wasn’t enough for you to go back to bed by yourself. You rapped your knuckle on his door. He cleared his throat before answering.

“Come in!” he called.

You tip-toed barefoot inside with your shoulders high in your ears. Jack sat up in bed when he saw you–worry evident on his brow. He wore a white t-shirt and thin wire-framed glasses. He grabbed the clicker and turned down the volume on the TV.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked.

“I had a bad dream,” you pouted. 

He sat motionless with his mouth open–his heart nearly beating outside of his chest.

You wrung your hands together. “Can I come sleep with you?”

A few more stunned, heavy breaths before he answered. “I–well, angel–I mean–” he released awkward chuckles between his stuttering. “I-I don’t think you’d have a lot of fun in here with me–” he pointed across at the TV. “--I’m just watching a-a-a documentary on uh… saddles of the old vaqueros from back in the day.” He cleared his throat again and smoothed the thick quilt in his lap.

You glanced to your right at the TV that sat atop his dresser. On screen was an older gentleman in a white sombrero who was smiling and showcasing leather embossing. It took more effort than you’d like to admit to not roll your eyes–because of course Uncle Jack would be watching something like that in the middle of the night. You remained undeterred.

“Please, Uncle Jack?” You attempted the most pathetic look you could muster. “That dream messed me up. I really don’t wanna sleep alone.”

It was almost visceral the way his heart broke for you–brows all curled into his forehead and his eyes growing big and misty. “O-okay, angel,” he croaked, looking you up and down. “If it’s that important to ya.”

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded and scurried forth. You drew back the quilt, distinctly avoiding the look of nervous dread in his eyes as you climbed into the bed with him. Before he could think to put a pillow between the two of you, you scooted as close as you could and wrapped your arm across his middle. 

He choked on his breath and placed his hand on your arm. “A-angel, I don’t know–” 

“Please, Uncle Jack? It was a really bad dream,” you pleaded with your chin on his chest. 

Another yank of his tender heartstrings. His glittery eyes bounced between yours as he tried to find the words–but none came out of his pouting lips. He looked away and wiped his mouth with his hand. “O-okay, baby, just uh… just for tonight, I guess. But–” he cleared his throat a third time. “--but let’s try to-to-to watch the program, okay?” He locked his eyes on the TV. He twitched and tensed his jaw and neck. His lips were close enough that you could smell whiskey on his breath. You wondered what he tasted like this late at night. 

You tugged him closer and pressed as much of your body into his as you could–from your cheek on his chest, to the front of your torso against his side, down to your leg lining up with his. His breathing stuttered, but you ignored it. Instead, you listened to his rapid beating heart. You melted into his strong, steady heat and the scent of his skin. You watched the TV for a while like he asked, and it was actually pretty interesting to see an expert artisan craft a saddle seat out of leather. But really, the most interesting part came when the artisan had to measure and cut the leather pieces for the horn because that’s when Uncle Jack placed his arm around you–his large hand finding respite on your shoulder. You instantly released a small whimper and squeezed his middle.

“It’s alright, angel,” he cooed–his thumb caressing your bare skin. “You’re safe, now. Just keep on watchin the TV.”

“Thank you, Uncle Jack,” you murmured–daring to press a quick kiss to his chest before resting your head again.

“O-of course,” he coughed and squirmed, but his hand stayed steady on your shoulder.

You grew weary as the night went on. Your eyes drifting shut. But you could never quite fall back asleep–not with your body this close to your Uncle Jack. Wetness pooled between your legs. Your body burned so badly for him you were aching. You didn't know what to do. You were afraid of scaring him off, but you were patient. You could be patient for a man like Uncle Jack.

Once the credits started rolling, Jack turned off the TV. You felt him shift beneath you, but you refused to budge. “A-angel?,” he whispered. He tapped you lightly on the shoulder. He was trying to wake you up… without waking you up. “I–... shit,” He murmured. He clicked off the lamp on his bedside table–a soothing darkness blanketing the room. He tried to situate himself a little further down the bed and you did let him move–but only a little. You were determined to stay on him. So much so that once he had settled into a comfortable position, you faked a sleepy moan and wrapped your leg on top of his. 

You could hear him suck air through his teeth–but he didn't push you off or away. In fact, his arm moved from your shoulder down to your waist, rubbing the exposed skin between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your bottoms. It felt like he was igniting you with his fingers, like each one was a matchstick. You wanted more, but you had to be coy about it. 

“Angel?” He tried again and you refused to respond. 

You counted your long, slow breaths, counted the heartbeats you felt in your pussy. You needed to give him time. Let him think it was all happenstance. You waited for as long as you could possibly stand. Then, you shifted again, another sleepy groan and stretch until you were half on top of him–your crotch on his thigh, your leg between his. His hardness poked against you.

“ssshit,” he whispered to himself. The hand that was once on your waist found its way to your shoulder. You couldn't see in the dark, but you knew his mouth was open. You knew he was stumbling over what to do. But he didn't push you away like he should have–like he would have if he truly didn't want you there.

It made you crave him–burning up and down your skin. It made you hungry to know that he desired you–that he wanted you so much that it made him all twisted up inside. That you had the power to falter the boundaries of a man so formidable. The roll of your hips was instinctual–your body so desperate to relieve itself from the ache, but the taste made you voracious. 

You rolled again and a whimper forced itself from your lips. You tried to muffle it by nuzzling into his chest. 

Jack didn't move. He still didn't push you away. He was gonna let you do it, wasn't he? Let himself pretend you were doing this all in your sleep. 

You pressed your swollen clit against his thigh and pushed upward from your knees, curling your toes, and grinding against him. It felt glorious, but you had to take it slow. No matter how much you really wanted to yank his pants down and ride him like the cowboy he was. 

And every little brush of your leg against his hard cock made him twitch and hiss. Again and again you thrusted yourself–rolling your entire body against his while he held himself back. He was braced and taking it. 

—---------

Jack felt drunk. Inebriated. Boozed up. Three sheets to the wind. And it was all because of you.  Your desire for him made him dizzy. The way you tucked your chin and looked at him with the sweetest, most docile eyes. Your sugary pouting lips. It felt too good to have you so close and snuggling up to him. He loved knowing that he could protect you and that you wanted him to protect you. It comforted him that you sought him for comfort. That you trusted him enough to surrender yourself and all your worries upon his shoulders. How could he ever deny you? How could he ever say no to your tender affection?

He knew it was wrong. It didn’t matter that you weren’t blood. It was the principle! He knew his feelings for you were unrefined and not very Kingsman-like, but … you had this way of hypnotizing him–captivating every nerve and synapse in his whole got-dang body. All it took was one wayward look from you and Hoo! Buddy ! he wanted to ravish you in an open prairie, by a campfire, underneath the shining eye of the moon. He wanted to buck up into you from underneath, let you ride him like a stud bull til he filled your belly full of his seed. He wanted to lathe and lick your breasts with his tongue–suck hickeys into your thighs in the shape of the letter J. He wanted to stuff your mouth full of his cock so he could make love to your sweet, darling face.

But …

As it has been mentioned before…

These feelings were unrefined and not very Kingsman-like. 

Jack saw himself as a gentleman. And gentlemen uncles do not bed their nieces.

Yet there you were, grinding against him, moaning and murmuring in your sleep. He knew he should wake you up. He knew he should have made you go back to your own bed. He knew he should have done anything other than what he had done, but… he didn’t. 

He stayed as still as he could. His body twitching and stuttering every time you brushed his cock. He tried to angle his hips a bit to cause more friction and it worked for a little while–but then you started chasing your high. He could feel it deep down in his gut how much your hazy mind hungered for release. He didn’t know what you were dreaming about that would cause you to react in such a way. You were twisting your hips around and moaning, arms wrapped around his middle and your face resting flat on his chest. 

“Uncle Jack…” you cried and Jack’s fist flew to this mouth to bite back his groan. “Please…” you begged as you rode his thigh with deep languid strokes. 

Jack didn’t want to whip his dick out and make a big ol’ mess all over the blankets and sheets and you. But he was feeling pretty goddamn desperate for some relief. He did his best to avoid touching you–lest he wake you up, you poor thing. You were so close! And shit, he was, too! So he reached his hand down and gave his cock a gentle squeeze through the fabric of his sleep pants. Something to ease the ache until he could extricate himself from you and disappear into the bathroom for a few shameful moments. One squeeze wasn’t enough, though. Especially once you started whimpering and shaking and meeting the end of your delightful, filthy dream. He couldn’t wait any longer. Gentlemanly duties be damned! He gave himself a few quick tugs through his pajamas, squeezing the head of his cock in his big, thick hand. He huffed and puffed before grunting hard through gritted teeth, cursing as quietly as he could while come spurted from his cock and smeared into his sleep clothes. ‘Oh, angel.’ He thought, feeling the fabric of his pants cling to him. ‘You’re gonna be the death of your ol’ Uncle Jack.’

After cleaning himself up and changing, he came back to bed and put a pillow between the two of you. Instead of what he wanted to do, which was spoon you, press his cock between your thighs and grind against your slick. But he couldn't. What he had done was shameful enough as it was. He had to stop. He had to put an end to it all. Not that anything had really happened, ...had it?

He took a deep breath and started listing different types of saddles in his head before eventually falling asleep.

+++++++++++++

@xdaddysprincessxx -- I thought this might be a fun one for ya. 😘😘😘