#getting a sewing machine instead of having to do everything by hand would also be nice but. space and money LOL

[strixhaven]

actually my new year’s resolutions are

get better at geography

more consistently take my irish and spanish lessons

do more traditional art

learn embroidery

get a jean jacket to add patches and embroidery to

make at least one shirt from scratch

[polymorphiczooid]

Marcille's frog suit is complete! This was my third-ever project using a sewing machine, so I've put a bit on my process for suit and staff-making below.

The Body: I drafted a pattern from a loose sweatshirt and sweatpants (somewhat following these tutorials: 1 2). From this I made a truly terrible mock-up from a fitted sheet -managing to sew the arms on inside out (twice, in two different ways). I also learned that the back panels need to be larger than the front panel, to accommodate the butt.

Originally, I wanted to make this out of raincoat material or pvc fabric to get that slimy frogskin look. I couldn't find any in the right color (or price), so I went with a cheap polyester satin. I think latex might have been also been a good alternative, but I've never worked with it before.

To get the white patterns on the frog, I just eyeballed where I thought the stripes should go on the paper pattern and cut it into smaller pieces (which I had to tape back together when I made the lining - this time out of blue bed sheet).

In the manga, there are large visible stitches in front. To mimic this, I decided to have the front lace with a thick cord. This meant I needed to install gromets on the front opening - but I was worried the hardware would tear right through the fragile satin. To prevent this, I reinforced the opening with a strip of denim encased in red cotton.

The smart thing to do would make the front zip up, and add a panel of fake lacing over the top. Since I didn't, 1) it takes a while to put on, and 2) the suit gapes open in places.

Frog Head: I spent a lot of time trying to figure this out - but in the end, I went with a very simple construction.

The hood consists of four main panels: the frog-shaped front and back panels of the outer hood, and two red panels for the inner hood. I 1) attached the white and orange parts of the outer panels 2) sewed the outerpanels together, and the inner hood panels together 3) cut a hole for my face out of the front outer panel, 4) sewed the edge of the inner hood panels to the face hole, 6) stuffed with batting from an old pillow, 6) added some extra fabric to close the hood under the chin.

I didn't quite get the shape right - the eyes should be rounder/ protrude less, and the cheeks/marcille's ears should sit lower down on the head. I think adding an extra panel to the back of the head would help it sit better. It's pretty 2D in profile, so my face sticks out of it too much.

Finally, using a stretch fabric for the inner hood (or a drawstring, that could tighten the hood itself) could make the hood fit snugly around the face. My hood was too loose, and I constantly had to adjust its position.

The frog eyes were also a bit tricky. The satin frayed to much to add large decorative stitching, so I had to sew little pieces of cord individually to the eyes. I probably should have made these smaller and more numerous...but my fingers were pretty sore form hand sewing.

The Shoes: I decided to make some boot covers for my docs, because making shoes from scratch is beyond my skill level.

I made a pattern by wrapping one shoe in a plastic back, then masking tape, and tracing out what looked like some important seam lines. I sewed all the pieces together except for top of the shoe, which I left open so 1) bagline the show cover, and 2) sew in the frog toes.

The toes themselves were sewn out of cotton and, stuffed with batting and old crochet squares. Then everything except the toe-tip was covered in orange satin. I did this since I was worried that the satin would not play nice with paint (foreshadowing). The toe-tips were then painted with a mix of black acryllic and liquid latex (for flexibility).

To keep the shoe covers on the shoes, I added some elastic around the bottom (salvaged from a fitted sheet). They also needed to close in the back - but I didn't have and velcro or zippers and I was running low on gromets. Instead, I made some loops out of scrap leather to run the lacing through. This looked cool but it was really hard to lace up myself!

Gloves: These were made the day before the convention, and are terribly slapdash.

Normally when you make gloves out of non-stretch fabric you need to add gussets to allow your hands bend, without the gloves being too loose. I did not do that. I just traced my hand on the fabric, and gave myself big finger pads and plenty of ease. They turned out pretty meh!

One issue was the finger pads themselves: it's hard to sew in a circle, so they were lumpy in shape. This lumpiness was enhanced by the way I stuffed them: just shoving stuffing into the finger tips. which is also where my fingers have to go. So every time I took the gloves on and off, the fingertips would get out of shape. I think hollowed foam balls would have been a better choice for the finger tips.

In addition, I painted the fingertips with the same latex/acrylic mixture I used on the toes. While it dried just fine on the cotton, the paint remained really sticky - so they picked up dust and peeled rather badly.

The gloves only had four fingers in the manga, so that's what I went with. But it was pretty uncomfortable with the pinky+ring finger sharing a home, and it didn't even look good.

Ambrosia (the staff): This was a real last-minute addition to the costume, done the night before the convention.

The base is a wooden dowel, and the hoop in a long tube of cotton fabric that I stuffed very firmly. I anted to make sure the hoop wouldn't fall off, so I "drilled" a hold near the tip of the staff (I.e. I shoved a screwdriver through the soft wood like an animal), and added grommets to each end of the stuffed cotton tube. I then created a tight mechanical join by running leftover cord though one grommet, then the dowel, and then the other grommet before tying it off.

Next, I wrapped a ton of different materials around the hoop and body of the staff: coord, twine, paper florist "rope", and paper-covered florist wire, etc. This was secured with an ungodly amount of hot glue. When possible, I tried to new strands under pre-existing ones for some extra security. I really like how wrapping the cord around the soft-hoop created the impression of vines growing around a living branch.

I painted the staff in three layers: base coat of red-brown, then a "wash" of watery black acrylic , and a dry brush of a lighter brown. I did not do a good job getting the paint evenly over the surface! From some angles the white cotton is still very visible, and I probably should have painted it before wrapping anything around it.

The sprout was made by sewing two leaf-shapes out of cotton, hot gluing it to a small snip of florist paper, and then hot gluing the stem to the hoop. Not bad for a rush job!

Overall: I think the feet and staff came out the best! People recognized me at the convention too, which is always the real test.

[bloodsadx]

as for how i get my patches; i made/make (havent made any in a while) all of them myself using a 6 needle embroidery machine. more needles = more concurrent colors the machine can easily swap through during the patch production. i bought special embroidery software that came with video guides after attending a workshop with the software developer and trying to use free open source embroidery software. the process is essentially the same as making vector art but with more attention paid to layering and then tooling around with things like fabric, thread, and types of stitches. i had experience with hand embroidery and also with hand sewing / using sewing machines and my partner at the time and i were very interested in the idea of making elaborate embroidery. it is in many ways similar in concept / process to screen printing which i have ample experience in, so it did not take me long to pick up and i had all the tools / access i needed to do lots of easy and fun designs. i was able to buy the machine by splitting the cost with someone else and using money i had gotten from my printing business/savings. i honestly recommend not buying a machine (even a small one) and instead out sourcing any embroidery you would want to local digitizers/embroidery companies if you want to do any machine embroidery slightly more complicated than one color directly onto a garment. it takes a long time, it’s very loud, the software required is expensive and nearly impossible to pirate (low demand), and the cost / time investment is very steep. however, i am a freak, and i also consider this my job (or part of it), so i have enjoyed it. there are a lot of people in your town or city, no matter where u are, who are already much more capable and set up to make patches for you than you would be. and they also would love to do it and it’s probably way cheaper than u think. (this also goes for screen printing). the one singular advantage to my set up is that i can make a lot of extremely singular one off patches at my own pace and at my own justified labor/time/monetary investment without having to communicate with anybody else. which is why i primarily think of myself as a artist and not necessarily a clothing embellisher/manufacturer; everything i do takes a lot of fucking time and research.

[gothethite]

Tired of people going 'all goth fashion is super easy to diy and everyone should do that instead' because like... yes a lot of it is but some very much not. So some thoughts on how much I'd recommend diying various goth fashion stuff as someone who does a lot of it:

Simple jewellery is definitely much better to diy and particularly chains and stuff. I remember going to dangerfield one time and they had a chain with a bat ornament on in for 20 dollars 🤣 ... you can get a bunch of chain from the hardware store pretty cheaply and the exact same bat pendant on it I had got like 20 off etsy for 5 dollars. It usually doesn't take that long and extra tools e.g. pliers are helpful but not necessary - 10/10 absolutely recommend for all goths or other people interested in gothic fashion

Same thing goes for distressed clothing/fishnet shirts there are tons of tutorials for that kind of stuff, and it generally doesn't require that much time, experience or materials 10/10

Minor clothing modifications e.g. some tailoring, adding/removing parts, mending damaged old clothing, changing buttons - this is something that is really useful in everyday life, usually doesn't take that long and is very useful for turning normal clothing into more spooky stuff 9/10

Designs on clothes or patches: if you get some fabric paint, screen printing ink, bleach or even acrylic you can paint designs onto clothing pretty easily. Personally I like dilute screen printing ink as it gives the nicest surface, but it can be a bit of a pain to use as you have to do a lot of layers, and it doesn't colour the fabric intuitively in the way that fabric paint or acrylic do 8/10 - would recommend very strongly to anyone who enjoys art, and recommend trying at least once to people who don't enjoy art as much (you can always make stencils), but it does take a long time and you need some materials. Also, for patches particularly for small bands it can be better to order them from the band to support the artist, but also lots of bands don't have patches or merch or international shipping to some countries makes it not accessible

Embroidery: often looks really good and professional in a way that painted designs don't, takes absolutely ages. 7/10 - would recommend very highly for people who enjoy textile stuff and maybe trying a bit for everyone but yeah if you don't enjoy it it's a pain

Smaller articles of clothing: I've made some waistcoats and shirts and stuff which have been pretty fun and it's really good to be able to do specific designs you wouldn't be able to buy (e.g. my skeleton one) and get stuff to fit right. They were all hand sewn and took a pretty long time (however you can also do it while listening to online classes or whatever), + a bit of time to learn techniques and stuff. Definitely a cheaper than buying them 6.5/10 - do it if you enjoy textile art stuff but will probably be a really painful experience if you don't and you're hand sewing. Also useful if you've got sizing or dimensions that mean you just... can't buy stuff that'll fit which is how I got into sewing

More complex sewing: I've made 2 (well, finished one and 98% of the way through another) long spooky coats and one cape with really complicated edges and embroidery and stuff. Coat 1 was entirely by hand out of not great fabric and took absolutely ages but was definitely vastly cheaper than buying it from the store, and it fit well and everything. With the cape, I got repetitive strain injury in my thumb that still is a bit of a problem 3 years later! With the final coat it was mostly by machine and then touching some stuff up by hand e.g. edges of the lining, making the eyelets and stuff, but it still took ages. Also, something I never see people talking about with diy goth clothing is how hard it is to get the materials - there were only 3 black brocade fabrics available in my city - One was really bad quality and I tried to make a shirt out of it, but it kept falling apart. One was 150 dollars a meter. The one I ended up using was really nice and reasonably priced, but I got the last 2.5 meters of it so it almost wasn't an option. So when people talk about diying clothing being cheaper it can actually not be that much because a clothing business can get fabrics in bulk + unless your city is really big there are probably not many options, so there's also shipping costs if you then need to order fabric. Out of curiosity I compared how much the coat cost in terms of materials to the price of a similar looking coat off dracula clothing which is a pretty well known and apparently quality materials and ethically made goth fashion shop and it came out a bit cheaper but not massively so (not counting shipping...) so 3.5/10 - fun to do if you enjoy textile art as a hobby, not even vaguely a practical alternative to buying a coat

And then there's other stuff like more complicated jewellery making and leather work which idk much about

[borninwinter81]

DIY budget cyber/industrial outfit - first time in public!

I made a couple of previous posts about this dress here and here, as well as the matching collar, and I thought it would be fun to show how I styled it when I wore it for the first time on Friday. Honestly I was a little concerned it would just look dumb, but when I tried it with the full makeup and shoes I was pleasantly surprised at how much I liked it.

Apologies for the abysmal photo quality, especially in the first image. I don't have a good camera and I wanted to try and show the full outfit. That blurred mirror selfie is the only head to toe picture I got.

I didn't mention in my other posts but in addition to making patches for the dress I also nipped in the seams so it fit me better (it was my size but kinda shapeless, and I wanted to give myself a waist). This is very easy to do with almost any dress, skirt or top, you just put the garment on inside out, pinch in the side seams so they fit the contours of your body (try and do this equally on both sides) and pin them together. Safety pins are best so you don't accidentally hurt yourself.

Take the garment off and draw a smooth line with tailors chalk connecting all the pins, then sew along that line, either with a machine or by hand. Turn right side out and try it on again. Provided you're happy with the fit, trim away the excess fabric. You may need to be careful if it's a fabric that could fray - I usually go over the seams again with a zig-zag machine stitch to try and minimise this. There are also products you can buy like fray-check. If in doubt, or there isn't much excess fabric you could just leave the seams untrimmed.

The length is a little out of my comfort zone so I wore gym shorts underneath to help myself feel less exposed and reduce the risk of flashing - I tend to do this with any dress or skirt that's above the knee anyway.

Continuing the budget theme, rather than buying any new accessories (again, cyber stuff is mega expensive) I looked through my wardrobe for items I already had that might work.

These goggles are not the usual kind of cyber goggles, but they matched everything else I was wearing. I was given them by a friend who was getting rid of them ages ago so they cost me nothing!

I really didn't feel like making and wearing cyberlox, so instead I just got some yellow hair elastics and did a ponytail.

I made these arm warmers about 12 years ago. You can probably tell that they began life as a pair of skinny jeans. To cut down on the amount of sewing I needed to do I used the existing hem and seams. After cutting them to a length I liked I did the pinch and pin thing to make them fit to my arm, and put in zips along the outer seam to make them easier to put on. As it turned out this wasn't necessary because the fabric is stretchy enough that I can pull them on and off. The zips add a nice bit of visual interest though.

I ripped a hole in each one for my thumb, and I had a pack of extra large hook-and-eyes, so I sewed the "eye" parts down them and added some old bootlaces. I've never been 100% happy with this decoration, but I haven't had any inspiration on how to change them in the last 12 years.

I wanted a necklace in addition to the collar, and couldn't think of anything more appropriate than this. I originally got it for a cosplay, Vasquez from Aliens, and with the big yellow industrial loader from the end of that movie which Ripley uses to fight the Queen alien... it seemed there was kind of a connection there.

I once met Jeanette Goldstein whilst dressed as Vasquez and told her she was my childhood hero and she signed these tags, but unfortunately most of the signature has come off when I was cleaning them.

Lastly, the boots. As with any goth outfit the footwear tend to be the most expensive, particularly if you want ridiculous platform heels like these.

When it comes to footwear, I really would not recommend any alternative brand names like Killstar, Koi or similar. They're often terrible quality, the heels will snap, the soles will peel off, zips will break. In my opinion the only decent specifically alternative shoe brand are New Rock (even they're lower quality than they used to be in the 90s) and although New Rock do make heels I wouldn't wear them often enough to justify spending £200 on a pair. I prefer flats the majority of the time!

The brand of these is Funtasma, and I believe they are intended for use by pole-dancers, meaning they're decent quality and will be up to a night of dancing in a club. I took a change of shoes along with me to put on at the end of the evening but they are surprisingly comfortable for the first few hours.

I got them about 15 years ago on sale, and at that time they were around £40. Not cheap but not super expensive either, and I've definitely got my money's worth out of them. I had them re-soled once with special toughened soles that have extra grip so they're safer to walk in, but that's it. One time I even did the 3 mile walk home at 2am in 6 inches of snow wearing these because I didn't want to wait hours for a taxi (an occasion where I did not take a change of shoes!)

So, not your standard cyber outfit, but one that gives my own spin on this look (which should be the goal with any fashion style - a guideline to create something unique, not a rulebook that you have to follow 100%) and was put together super cheaply. The only new things I bought were the dress, fabric to make the patches, and a pack of multicoloured hair elastics.

[inkofamethyst]

September 8, 2024

It's been a minute.

In brief: first week was good; finished my hair in three days and it's alright; worked deep into nights to finish the costume; ren faire was amazing!

First Week: I'm getting the feeling that I will have a decent amount of downtime to dedicate to my research and improving my lab skills this semester compared to last year. I was stressed about several things, but they turned out alright in the end. One thing was the primate class I'm taking. I don't have much primate behavioral background, but this class seems like it will mostly just be reading and discussion, so a super super chill seminar (no papers or exams, either!!). I was also worried about the new responsibilities that are lumped onto second years, but they seem manageable, especially with such a "large" cohort.

Hair: they're essentially mini twists with extensions, so I generally like the look of them, but I think the extension quality is lacking. It did take me two additional evenings to finish, but they should be good for at least another two or three weeks. Next time, I may try marley hair.

Costume: I was in the library makerspace for five hours last week to do the main machine-sewing bits. It would've been six but a friend had a last-minute birthday gathering which I forfeited my makerspace reservation to attend (I don't regret that choice, though!). While I couldn't finish everything exactly as I'd hoped to (the bottom hems on the chemise are raw (but I cut/tore them straight across so I wasn't too worried), not enough time to add the ruffle to the chemise (and I wasted like an hour at the machine prepping it before realizing that I still needed to work on the bodice), no "boning" in the bodice (which ultimately was probably for the best, as the canvas interlining was HEFTY (potentially too hefty considering the event lol)), ran out of lining fabric for the bodice so the back pieces are unlined (I was using scrap to begin with, and I'll likely go in and use scraps from the chemise just to cover those back seams)), it still managed to look REALLY COOL. I am SO PROUD of what I managed to accomplish in just a week. GAH I felt so pretty. Even despite all the incomplete bits and things I would change. Every time I looked into a mirror yesterday I would just beam at myself because I felt so good!!! I managed to complete all of my goals (chemise, bodice/corset, skirt hike) to a passable degree, and it brings me so much joy to think about. I did that!!!

Ren Faire: The faire was so good. Plenty of activities, plenty of shops, plenty to see, plenty to eat. My dnd group plus my turquoise-friend were all there for a birthday celebration, and it was a grand time. I got to try archery, I failed to eat a turkey leg by myself, I yelled my throat raw cheering for my assigned (and particularly bloodthirsty) old man knight during the jousts, I tried (and loved) raspberry mead. While my turquoise-friend and I hunted for elf ears that'd match out skin tone, we couldn't find any and instead each bought some gorgeous filigree elven ear cuffs. I adore mine and want to wear them everywhere omg. It was all-around just so great, and I totally want to go back next year.

As I was roaming the faire, it became clear that my outfit wasn't really anything special at a glance. Bodice, chemise, skirt, belt. While, yes, that was my goal, I did take some time to reflect on whether hours of designing, drafting, basting, machine sewing, and hand sewing were worth it to look almost exactly like every other bar maiden/tavern wench who bought a costume from amazon or spirit halloween. I think the answer is that it was worth it, even if the costume wouldn't pass a true seamstress' close inspection. There are absolutely elements to mine that are unlikely to be found in mass-produced versions, even ones that "look cooler". Certain seam finishes, the amount of fabric used (esp in the skirt omg), specific time-intensive design elements, even if they look simple (the sleeves are based on Jester's and are my favorite part of the whole outfit). Plus, I have something I made! That I'm proud of! That I enjoy wearing! The design process was fun, far more fun than scrolling through etsy or something. So, yeah, it's not about the complements. It's way more about the feeling I get while wearing it and how that impacts my faire experience.

For next year, I'm going to try to add elements to the outfit that give it more character, sort of like environmental storytelling, but with accessories on the body.. Will I be a tavern wench who moonlights as a royal assassin? Will I be an herbalist's apprentice who works at an apothecary and is hoping to finally brew a love potion, or perhaps a budding necromancer longing to bring their loved one back? A floral fairy who's been transformed to human size, or a bloodthirsty berserker queen? (The Renaissance Faire maybe isn't the best place to try out these ideas, as it's heavier on the historical side of historical fantasy, but maybe what I need is a larp that's heavier on the fantasy side.)

Today I'm thankful that last week was a good week! I'm thankful that my classes seem okay and that I managed to finish my costume (mostly) and that I had a lot of fun at the faire! I'm also thankful my turquoise-friend was with me at the faire. This will absolutely be a fantastic grad school memory.

Also special shoutout to the nyx eye pencil in icy blue (or something like that). I went low makeup yesterday but randomly picked that up the day before to help my eyes match the blue elements in the costume, and it stayed on all day. Impressive for a budget item.

[kelyon]

Courtship 5: Outfit

Lacey figures out what she's going to wear on her date

Read on AO3

The pile of clothes covered Lacey’s twin bed. She’d spent the better part of an hour matching blouses with slacks with sweaters in a vain attempt to find the magic combination that would make her look less like the president of the student council and more like Mr. Gold’s perfect slut. 

Nothing worked. So far, her best options were to wear her summer sundress in the middle of winter with no coat, or to take a pair of scissors to the long black skirt she had worn to her mother’s funeral. That last one might have been an option, if she had a sewing machine like Mara. But she didn’t, and showing up at Mr. Gold’s house wearing unhemmed rags was probably as bad an idea as showing up wearing pants. If she had a sleeveless top, she might consider wearing the skirt as it was. She could try to go for a sort of hippy, Bohemian look. But the most revealing blouse Lacey French owned had puffed-up sleeves, like a fucking five-year-old. 

Groaning, she fell backwards onto the pile. Some of this stuff she had got in middle school. The fact that they still fit her had been an advantage every time she’d decided to spend her limited funds on books instead of clothes, but it also meant that Lacey had never aged up her personal style. She didn’t have anything that made her look or feel like an adult. 

The purple-blue dress shimmered in her dirty clothes hamper. She had jumped the gun by wearing her only sexy outfit on her first date with Mr. Gold. She had set the bar too high. Now he would have expectations of how Miss French liked to dress. More than that, Mr. Gold in his suits had standards. If she met him looking like a mess, he’d drive off and leave her on the curb.

At least he didn’t seem to mind if she left him looking like a mess. He hadn’t minded bringing her home with a wrinkled skirt and no stockings or underwear. She wanted that to happen again, but before it could, Lacey had to look presentable. None of her clothes were cutting it. She had to take action. 

She pulled a white button-up off the pile and rubbed a smear of foundation over her hickey. Then she went downstairs into the shop. Dad was sitting by the cash register, looking through a faded design book. 

Mom had known all the designs for bouquets and arrangements by heart, but Dad always needed to double check with the book. 

“Anything happen today?” Lacey asked.

He shook his head, didn’t look up.

“We should call up everyone who ordered from us last year and remind them that V-day is in less than three weeks.”

“They know,” he grumbled. “This time of year, no one has any money. The men at Fish King will get paid on Friday, that’s when the orders will start. But they won’t really pick up until the next payday, the eleventh.”

He was right. It happened like that every year. All the orders came in at the very last minute. Valentine’s Day weekend was two solid days of constant work getting everything put together. 

And it was too far away to do Lacey any good.   

“So I’m guessing this is not a good time to discuss the subject of me ever getting paid for the hours I put in?”

Her father looked at her like she had just told an offensive joke that wasn’t even funny. Had his eyes always been so bloodshot? Had he always looked like a sad cartoon dog?

“You keep your tips.” He looked down at the book again. “You have money when the store has money, when we’re not racking up daily fees from that bastard Gold.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Lacey rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Just thought I’d ask.”

Of course Dad didn’t have any money to give her. That was their whole problem. Game of Thorns was a family business, the only income any of them had. For as long as she’d worked in the store, her pay had come in the form of food and shelter. Her reward for helping keep the place open was that it stayed open. It might not have been unreasonable to ask for more, but she knew it was unattainable. 

“Ask again when Valentine’s is over,” Dad said. “We get out of this hole… I’ll try to make something work.”

She’d heard that before. Her father always had all kinds of plans and dreams for when things got better. Not that things ever did get better. Not that they ever would. The only thing worse than knowing that fact would be admitting it. So Lacey gave her father a tight smile and pretended she believed him, just like she always did.

****

She made her way over to Marine Automotive, where her Uncle Manny was locking the front doors from the outside. When he saw her loitering, he beamed.

“Hey! There’s my favorite niece!”

Uncle Manny looked like Dad if nothing bad had ever happened to him. He had the same height and stocky build. He had the same curly hair that was also the bane of Lacey’s existence. But where Moe French was loud when he was angry, Manny French was loud when he was happy--and he was always loud. He wrapped Lacey up in a bear hug.

“How you doing, Ace? What brings you by?”

She cut to the chase. “Are you going to the Rabbit Hole tonight?”

Her uncle wasn’t a huge drinker, but he was the only person Lacey knew who regularly went to Storybrooke's only bar.

“I wasn’t planning on it. They’re aren’t any games tonight. But I take it you need an escort?”

Lacey raised her shoulders in a half-apology. “They won’t let me in without a parent-slash-guardian.”

“Ah, to be young again!” Uncle Manny wrapped one arm around her. “You’ll miss it one of these days, I promise you. But yeah, we can have a night on the town. I’ll even buy you a Shirley Temple.”

“Oh come on,” she gave him a playful nudge. “I am an adult, even if I can’t drink. I should at least get a Coke and Coke.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

****

The Rabbit Hole was dead. Between the lack of sports on TV and the town-wide lack of money until payday, most people were staying home. The only ones here were people like Leroy Miner, people who had nowhere else to go. Like the old song said, sharing a drink they called loneliness was better than drinking alone. 

Undeterred, Lacey took her uncle-approved non-alcoholic beverage over to the pool table by the fireplace. She took off her hoodie and unbuttoned her blouse a little. This whole thing was a risky move, but it was the best plan she had. Hustling pool paid off more often than it didn’t.  

Eyeing the room, she bent over the pool table, just far enough to get a little attention. She lined up a shot and missed on purpose.

“Oh crap!” she said too loudly. “Must not be my night.”

After ten minutes of staged failure, Lacey let herself land a shot. She squealed when the ball went into the pocket. The sound made people’s heads turn, and she treated them all to a too-wide, too-apologetic smile.

Only one person smiled back. Keith Sherwood turned on his bar stool to watch her. Lacey tried to remember her other encounters with Keith. Did he usually stare more at her ass or her boobs? For safety’s sake, she did both. She leaned far enough over the table that Keith could look down her cleavage, then moved around to the other side for the next shot. She stuck her ass in the air, practically humping the felt to keep his attention.

“Boys always make it look so easy,” she pouted after another ball just barely missed the pocket.

When Keith began to walk over to her, she turned her back to him. That way she could pretend to be surprised by his arrival. With careful concentration, Lacey managed to get a ball a full foot away from what anyone watching would have assumed was her target. It was actually harder to be bad on purpose, but it paid off.

“You having fun, sweet thing?” Keith leaned against the pool table, beer in hand, right in front of her.

Lacey giggled. “It’d be more fun if I had someone to play with.”

Keith chuckled. A lock of his hair fell down into his eyes. “I bet it would be. You had a lot of fun playing with me last time, didn’t you?”

How much money had she taken from Keith the last time she had tried this? Sometimes she got cocky and her marks got mad about being taken. Lacey couldn’t remember if she had ever crowed about fleecing Keith. Unfortunately, he probably did. 

She fluttered her eyelashes. “It was a lot of fun,” she cooed. “I think I got lucky that night.”

“I bet you’re gonna get lucky again.” He was standing too close to her. “I bet your luck will get better and better all night, especially when we start playing double or nothing.”

Crap. She had definitely rubbed Keith’s face in it last time. Now he was wise to her. That was the problem with a small town. Oh well, at least she’d tried.

“So is that a bet?” she said in her real voice. “Do you wanna put money down on whether or not I’m actually hustling you? Cuz I’ll take you up on that one.”

Keith shook his head. He put his hand down on top of hers on the edge of the pool table. He was still smiling.

“You know there’s another game we can play together. It’s a lot more fun than pool.”

Ugh.

Lacey backed away. “It might be fun for you, but I don’t think I’d get much out of it.”

He followed her. “How do you know? Maybe it’d be more fun if you hustled me. That’d make things interesting, wouldn’t it? Twenty bucks says I can make you see heaven.”

She snorted. “Did you just say you’ll pay to screw me?”

Keith kept smiling. “You were gonna screw me all over this table and take my money anyway. I like my version better.”

Lacey’s blood suddenly went cold. This wasn’t funny anymore. It wasn’t a game. This asshole would seriously give her money if she went home with him. It would be so easy to go along with it. Twenty dollars for two orgasms--his would be real, hers would be fake. 

Would that be enough to buy a new skirt? Was she seriously fucking considering this?

She clenched her jaw. 

“I’m not a fucking hooker, Keith.”

He raised his arms in a pacifying gesture. “No harm, no foul,” he said. “I just don’t see how it’s any different from taking a girl to dinner first. Man pays for sex either way.”

Turning away, she slid her pool cue back on the rack. 

“You’re a pig.”

“Go ahead, darlin’, keep talking dirty. See what happens.”

Lacey kept her head held high as she went back to the bar where her uncle was nursing a beer.

“I need to get out of here,” she told him.

“Sounds good.” Uncle Manny took out his wallet and tossed a few crumpled fives onto the bar. “I’ll walk you home.”

****

 Outside, Lacey pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her hoodie and hugged her arms over her chest. This stupid button down was too frumpy to make her sexy and too thin to keep her warm. 

“Pool wasn’t any good for you tonight?” Uncle Manny asked casually.

“No,” she admitted. “Fricking Keith threw me off my game.”

“What do you need money for anyway? That dad of yours not feeding you?”

“I need money cuz I don’t have any.” Lacey kicked at a chunk of dirty snow. “Nobody does.”

“I’ve got a little, for the smartest kid in Storybrooke.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “You wanna tell me what it’s for?”

Lacey bit the inside of her mouth. She didn’t want to lie to her uncle, but she sure as hell didn’t want to tell him the truth. She walked in silence for a minute. He stayed with her. Finally, she said it.

“I wanna get some new clothes.”

“Like a real coat?”

She shrugged. “I mean, maybe. I could. If I had enough.”

“And this is a sudden yearning that couldn’t wait?”

She shrugged again. There was nothing like being around a parent-slash-guardian to make her feel like a complete child.

“Ace, what’s going on?”

She took a breath. “I… don’t want to tell you.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Lacey French, if you’re doing things you don’t want people to know about, then you shouldn’t do them.”

“It’s nothing bad!” Lacey pushed him away. “It’s just… personal.”

“That’s not reassuring,” he said. “What’s going on? What do you need money for?”

“I told you, to buy clothes!”

“Clothes for what? You can tell me, Lacey. I’ll help you out if you’re honest.”

“I just want to look nice on a date!” She shrieked the words out into the night. They hung in the air with the cloud of her breath.

Uncle Manny looked at her, confused and sympathetic at the same time. Eventually, he broke out into a broad smile.

“But that’s great, honey! You should go on dates. Why-- why didn’t you say so to begin with?”

She pulled her hands up through the neck hole of her hoodie to rub her face.

“I’m… It’s because of who I’m going out with.”

Uncle Manny scoffed and put his arm around her as they walked. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of dating someone. Unless it’s someone you should be ashamed of, but then you just don’t date them. It’s not a girl, is it?”

Lacey shook her head, to which Uncle Manny nodded.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, not in this modern world. You know I’m with you no matter what.”

She nodded. 

“And of course, no boy is ever going to be good enough for you. But as long as he’s not married, or some kind of asshole like that bastard Gold, there’s no reason to sneak around like--Lacey?”

She had stopped in her tracks. She looked up at her uncle and chewed on her lower lip.

Realization dawned. Uncle Manny let out a long breath. 

“Lace.” His voice was rough. “Tell me you’re dating a married man.”

Lips pressed together, she shook her head. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Standing in place, Uncle Manny stomped his work boots onto the sidewalk. The intent seemed to be half to warm his feet and half to cool his head.

“Gold,” he whispered. He pointed in the direction of Mr. Gold’s pawn shop. “That Gold? The guy that has every working person in Storybrooke by balls? The guy who’s practically the reason all of us are living paycheck to paycheck? You’re going on dates with him?”

She shrugged. “It’s only been one date so far, but he asked me to come to his house on Friday.”

“And you said yes? What, does he have something on you? Is that why you need money?”

“No!” Lacey insisted. “I was telling the truth! I just need clothes that are good enough for him.”

“‘Good enough for him?’ He’s not good enough for you, Lacey! That man is a scourge. He’s a parasite. He’s--he’s old enough to be your father!”

“If he was my father, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d actually have a good life.”

“You have a good life.” Uncle Manny wasn’t angry anymore. Or if he was, his anger had become still and stern. “Your parents worked every day to give you a good life.”

“And where did it get them?” Lacey snapped. “Where did it get me? Yes, we work hard, but our only reward is getting to work even harder. And I’m so tired.” Her face was hot. God, she was sniffling. “Being with Mr. Gold feels like a break, and that’s all I want anymore. Just a freaking break.” 

Uncle Manny’s arms were around her. He pulled her against his coveralls that smelled like motor oil and sweat. He squeezed her tight and patted her back as she tried to stop crying.

“Sorry,” she sniffed when they broke apart.

“Hey,” he tilted her chin up and looked her in the eye. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

Despite her tears, Lacey laughed. It was an old joke for them. She knew what her next line had to be: “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”  

He hugged her again, kissed the top of her head. They didn’t talk until they were in front of Game of Thorns.

“I’d stay for dinner, but I’ve had Moe’s cooking before.”

She snorted at another joke she’d heard a thousand times, then she turned serious. “Um. You’re not going to tell anybody, are you?”

“About your…” he searched for the words, then shrugged, “love life?”

“Yeah. You know my dad will blow a gasket if he finds out I’m even talking to Mr. Gold, let alone--”

“Yeah, I know.” Uncle Manny cut her off. Clearly, he didn’t want to hear what she was doing with Mr. Gold.

“So, please don’t tell him? Promise?”

Her uncle sucked his teeth and slowly shook his head in silence. It took a long minute before he looked at her again.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re an adult. You know your own mind, you can make your own decisions. It’s just--be smart, okay? You are an adult, but you’re also our little girl. Me, your dad, your mom, rest her soul--we don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I promise I won’t get hurt, if you promise not to blab my business all over town.”

“Aright,” he sighed. He pulled her in for a tight hug. “I promise. Just--please, take care of yourself.”

  She squeezed her uncle, then headed for the door. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

****

Lacey spent the entire working day on Thursday psychically willing the phone to ring with orders, preferably orders that had to be filled as soon as possible. Doing a rush job would give them an excuse to charge extra. She wouldn’t wish a funeral on anyone, but wouldn’t this be a great weekend for an impromptu wedding? So many of Lacey’s problems would be solved if just one panicked bride would come in and beg them to fill Dodci’s Dance Hall with centerpieces and garlands, not to mention all the bouquets and boutonnieres and flowers for the church too. Or maybe someone important could get sick and everyone in Storybrooke would send flowers to the hospital. Wasn’t there anyone in Storybrooke who was celebrating anything? Did people not have birthdays in late January? There were so many reasons people could need flowers. But this wasn’t a day when people did.

Hustling at the Rabbit Hole wasn’t an option anymore. If this were any other occasion, she would borrow a skirt from Mara or Janine, but that didn’t seem like a possibility. They wouldn’t take the news of her going on a date with Mr. Gold any better than Uncle Manny had. Mara’s store, where she also lived, was rented from Mr. Gold, and Janine had taken out a loan to pay for her beautician supplies. Both of them--really everyone in Storybrooke--saw him as the enemy. As far as they cared to think about it, he was the reason they were poor. If Lacey told her friends how much she wanted to be around him, they would think she was crazy, or morally degenerate.

Maybe she was. 

Or maybe they were wrong. Had her friends ever eaten at Bella Notte? Had they ever worn a dress that made them feel like sex on two legs? Had they ever watched a hapless waiter get strong-armed into breaking a stupid law for them? Had they ever been inside Mr. Gold’s house? Had they ever taken clothes off just because a man had asked them to? Had they ever known the thrill of promising to do whatever another person told them to do? Had they ever known the peace of being an object, of kneeling silently at someone’s feet?

Could they even understand why that was something anyone would want? Let alone that it was something Lacey craved in a place deeper than her bones? Some dark, hidden part of her soul wanted Mr. Gold, like she had never wanted anything else. 

And not having enough money to buy a stupid fucking skirt might keep her away from him forever. She could not abide that thought.

When Friday was another dud--a few orders came in, but they wouldn’t pay until delivery--Lacey knew that she was out of options. Since Mr. Gold would be picking her up tonight at eight, she was also out of time. So she did what everyone in Storybrooke did when they had nowhere else to go.

She went to the pawn shop. 

****

Lacey had always been intrigued by the phrasing of Mr. Gold’s store. The sign said Mr. Gold Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer. Most stores advertised the goods sold inside, but Mr. Gold advertised himself. This was who he was, this was what he did. No one came to this store because they needed things, they came because they needed what only he could offer them. Usually, they needed it enough to pay whatever price he set. 

When it came down to it, Lacey really wasn’t that different from any other desperate soul who came to Mr. Gold. The only difference was what she wanted.

It was three in the afternoon. Not technically her lunch break, but it wasn’t like she was getting paid to stick around the flower shop. Lacey changed into some gray dress pants and covered her work shirt with her least-frumpy cardigan. She stuffed her purse full of old toys and oddities that might--cumulatively, optimistically--be worth about ten dollars. She yelled at Dad that she was going out for a minute and then walked over to Mr. Gold’s.

The bell rang over her head when she walked through the front door. Mr. Gold was behind the counter, writing something in a ledger. He looked up at the sound and gave the slightest grin when he saw that it was her. 

“Miss French,” he said, with just a touch of warmth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lacey bit her lip, but forced herself to stay cool. She looked around at the shelves and display cases, slowly making her way forward. Another time, she would have marveled at the art and jewelry and historic do-dads, but now she slunk past them.

“I…” she dragged out the word, unsure of what she was saying as she said it, “was wondering… if you have any clothes for sale.” 

Mr. Gold raised his eyebrows. “Clothes?”

“Yeah.” She stopped in front of a spinning rack of necklaces. She couldn’t look at him. “You know, like vintage stuff?”

He walked over to her, behind the display case. “I’ve got some historic naval uniforms, but nothing that would suit you.”

He was in front of her now, so they were separated by nothing but two feet of glass and gadgets. She didn’t raise her head. Some of these necklaces were really pretty. One gold chain with a mother-of-pearl pendant spoke to her for some reason.

“What do you need, Miss French?”

His voice was gentle, coaxing. He understood how much she hated what she was doing. He probably talked to a lot of people who were feeling what she was feeling. At least he didn’t seem to be enjoying her discomfort.

Lacey took a breath, and looked up at him.

“I need a skirt,” she admitted. “I don’t have anything to wear on our date tonight.”

He blinked. Then his face grew infinitesimally softer. 

“I see,” he said. 

“I brought some stuff.” She set her purse on the counter, began to pull out the junk she’d brought from home. “I thought I might--”

“Please,” he held up a hand. “You don’t need to do that. I’m more than happy to assist you, Miss French.” He turned away from her, went back over to his antique cash register. 

“I can pay you back…”

“Oh you will,” he grinned. He took a bill out of the cash register and set it on the counter. Lacey came closer and saw that it was a fifty. “Will this be enough?”

She fought the urge to snatch the money and run all the way to Modern Fashions. It was the same feeling she’d had when he’d given her the money to tip that stupid waiter. The thrill, the rush, of having cash and knowing she could do anything with it. Fifty dollars was more than she had spent on clothes in the past year. Fifty dollars could cover the bill at Granny’s for her whole family--or at least for Janine and Mara to have real lunches.

Fifty dollars was more than twice what Keith had offered her to have sex with him.

Lacey pulled her hands back. She dug her fingernails into her palms. 

“I… I shouldn’t accept this,” she said.  

“Why not?” Mr. Gold asked, unperturbed. “Are you worried I’ll take advantage of you? Wouldn’t you say that ship has sailed, Miss French?”

She looked down at the dirt-stained sneakers she wore for work. In a resigned whisper, she told Mr. Gold the same thing she said to Keith at the Rabbit Hole.

“I’m not a hooker.”

“Of course not.” Mr. Gold’s voice was smooth and confident. He came out from behind the counter to stand in front of her. Slowly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, subtly forcing her to look at him. “You’re a woman who knows what she wants and who will do whatever she needs to do to make it happen.”

Lacey’s breath shook. Her eyes were hot and she was trembling.

“What do you want?” he asked her. He really was being very patient. 

“I want to go on another date with you, Mr. Gold.”

“And what do you need to do in order to make that happen?”

“I need--” she stopped. I need a skirt wasn’t the right answer. Mr. Gold had asked her what she needed to do. “I need to get some money, Mr. Gold.”

“Ask me for it.” He gave the order like it was a caress. “Ask me for the money and I’ll give it to you, Miss French.”

 This wasn’t like with Keith. This wasn’t being so desperate for money that she’d have sex with a stranger. This was being so desperate for sex that she’d take money to make sure she’d get it. She’d let Mr. Gold pay her like a whore just to make sure he kept treating her like a slut. 

She swallowed. She had to swallow a few times before she was brave enough to speak.

“Please, Mr. Gold, will you give me fifty dollars so I can have something suitable to wear for our date tonight?”

“I would be happy too, Miss French.” He lowered his hand from her cheek and picked the bill up off of the counter. Gently, he took her hand by the wrist, placed the fifty on her palm, and closed her fingers over it.

He grinned at her.

“Buy yourself something pretty.”

Lacey clenched her jaw. Now he was enjoying this. She bit back words that would make him take the money back. Instead, she said what she knew he wanted her to say.

“Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

“You’re quite welcome, Miss French.”

He turned around then, went back behind the counter. Lacey understood she was dismissed. Facing the door, she took a breath and checked to make sure none of her tears had spilled out onto her cheeks. 

Before she opened the door, Mr. Gold called over to her. 

“Miss French,” he said. “If you happen to buy a red skirt and wear nothing underneath it, I will eat your cunt for dessert tonight.”

Lacey’s eyes went wide. Her shock was less for what Mr. Gold had said and more for his nonchalant tone. He was talking about sex in the same way he would talk about running errands.

“Do you understand me, Miss French?”

What about it did he think she didn’t understand? Then Lacey realized she hadn’t answered him. Mr. Gold expected an answer when he spoke to people. 

“Yes, Mr. Gold,” she said. Shock had made her voice a little breathy. “Thank you for telling me, Mr. Gold.”

He gave her a nod. 

Dazed and excited, Lacey left his shop and made her way down the street to Modern Fashions. She had a red skirt to buy.

[creativepawsworld]

Silence - Chapter 12

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Original Character

Summary = The police are after Thomas Shelby. Ana takes John's suit to his house, the pair having another meaningful conversation.

Warnings = Language, Gang Activity, Guns, Mentions of Sex, Anger issues

Word Count = 3268

Note = Thank you all so much for the comment's reactions and reblogs, it really makes my day that you love this story as much as I enjoy writing it.

For the first time since breaking my foot, I managed to fall and stay asleep last night and it was a good sleep, so amazingly good. I woke up feeling refreshed, ready for the day instead of the usual groggy and irritable version of myself, I had been experiencing lately.

There was no sign of James when I got up. He probably went straight to work after staying at Martha’s. It wasn’t unusual for him to stay over at her place, it was unusual that he didn’t call in to say hello though as he passed through here to get to work.

I walked down in the living room, smiling at the discarded white shirt just tossed onto the floor. A stark reminder that last night did in fact happen. Picking up the clothing and throwing it back into the clean laundry pile I made myself some breakfast before heading next door.

Being the only one in the shop meant that everything fell on my shoulders. Not only did I have to do the administration side to the shop, the inventory, general upkeep but I also had to deal with any clients that came through the door needing something altered or fix. It all rested on me for the first time.

Pushing some loose hair out of my face I looked up at the sound of the door opening. Inwardly rolling my eyes praying the people of Small Heath would just go away. I had been on my foot most of the day, my underarms were red and aching from the fiction caused by the wooden crutches. I didn’t know how much more I could take.

“Everything alright in here Ana?” James’s voice laughed looking around the store. I had things everywhere. Literally everywhere. Random swatches of material were laid over the front desk and my sewing machine, samples of the materials we had in store for people to choose from. I had papers, laying in all directions with measurements, dates and names written on them. I was working in chaos.

“Thank God you are here. Close the door, lock it and keep everyone out” I sigh throwing myself back into the god-awful wooden chair. I was absolutely exhausted. First time having full control of the tailor shop and I managed to do it on a broken foot, it would be a piece of cake in the future with two feet.

“It’s after 5pm we are closed anyway” James laughed shaking his head. He started grabbing the random swatches on fabric putting them into the swatch's basket. “Busy day?” He asked walking around tidying up after me.

“It was the worst day ever. People needing trousers and dresses mended, some needed them altered within an hour. Others wanted to request a new outfit for a family wedding in five days.”

“You know you didn’t have to alter anything right then and there, right?” James asked, putting the work baskets in the far-right corner.

 I smiled thinking back to the days when James worked here. We never got anything done, it was so bad, our parents had to separate us. My father taking James under his wing, my mother, me. All too soon though my brother wanted independence. He wanted away from the shop and away from our parents. It was then he got himself mixed up in gambling and the Shelby brothers.

“I know but I just, didn’t want to let anyone down” I sighed rubbing feeling back into my fingers. I lost count how many times I had stuck myself with the needle trying to hurry things along.

“Ana, that’s fine when you are at yourself, not when you have one foot” James scolded handing me the pieces of paper with scribbles on it. “What does half of this even say? That is not how father writes out a measurement sheet” He laughed shaking his head at me.

“It’s how I write it. Easier and saves time” I chuckled snapping the sheets from him using the desk to tap the loose pages together and placing them on my desk.

“If you say so” James shrugged walking around the shop, stopping when he came to a suit. “This is a fine suit Ana, Shelby not been around to collect it yet?” He asked lifting the pant leg and inspecting it.

“Nope, God only knows why. It’s not like the Shelby’s to be late” I sigh with a smile. My mind drifting to my favourite Shelby brother, nibbling on my bottom lip.

“Well with everything going on. I’d say they have their hands full” James nodded leaving the suit alone and walking over to me. “You best hope he comes tonight; father is coming home, and you know he won’t be happy with the suit still here”

“I thought they were coming home tomorrow night?”

“No it’s definitely tonight. Martha is away to some show with a few friends from work. I remember the date clearly as I was going to the Garrison with a few mates”

“Come on” I sighed rubbing my temples with my fingers before standing to my feet, grabbing a nearby empty basket. “Help me”

“Help you what?” James asked confused at my sudden panic like state.

“Grab that dress and put it in the basket with the suit.”

“What are you going to do? Deliver it?” He asked with a laugh but seeing me nod my head, his face fell. “How exactly are you going to carry a basket and two crutches without falling flat on your face Ana, be realistic.”

“I’m not. You’re gonna carry the basket”

“Hell no. I’m not going near the Shelby house are you mad? What if Arthur is there?”

“What if he isn't?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “Please James. Father entrusted me with the running of the shop, I don’t want him coming home and thinking I can’t handle it alone.”

“I’m sure he won’t…”

“James, it’s father. Come on I help you place a stupid bet you can help me deliver a suit” I brought up the incident from a few weeks back when he asked me to go to the betting shop for him. Bringing me into the life of the Shelby’s albeit unintentionally.

“I hate you”

“You love me.” I grin, balancing as best I could while putting my coat on. Taking the crutches once more and hobbling out into the street. “I can’t wait to be free of these”

“Should not of kicked a wall over a Shelby.” James growled dragging his feet behind me.

“Shut up” I tell him with a glare of my own, urging him to hurry up.

Before we even got near the shop James told me that if saw Arthur he would be gone, suit in hand or not. Rolling my eyes at my cowardly elder brother, the streetlights came on, the dark night started to take over. Hopping over the puddles in the street, I noticed a few lights were light in the main house, the betting shop door was no doubt locked now meaning Polly should be at home.

Knocking on the door, I waited for someone to answer the door, my brother was looking over his shoulder every two minutes in case a Shelby brother snuck up on us. I was about to tell him to stop fidgeting when the front door opened, the light shining on both my brother and I. Polly had a smile on her once her eyes landed on me.

“Ana dear, I was thinking just about you.” She grinned, her eyes glancing over to my brother who stood still, a glare on his face as he held the basket in one hand. The other hand casually in his pocket. “James” Polly spoke plainly at him.

“Mrs Gray” James returned, no emotion in his voice.

“Hi Polly, I have John’s suit he was supposed to collect yesterday. I wanted it out of the shop before my father returned.”

“From London, yes Tommy said you had the run of things”

“He did?” I asked with a smile. A blush appearing on  my cheeks at the thought of Thomas talking to his family about me.

“Mmm” Polly nodded with a smile of her. Clearly his throat my brother made his presence known, holding the basket up. “Is that the suit then?”

“Indeed” James nodded handing the basket over to Polly. “I’ll see you at home later?” He asked me backing away from the Shelby home towards what he considered safety, even though Arthur was more than likely at the bar now that Thomas brought it for him.

“Yeah” I shouted my shoulder at him, watching him walk backwards before turning at my answer, disappearing around the corner.

“You must be freezing, come in” Polly spoke once my brother gone, like myself she was watching him leave. Carefully making my way into her home she ushered me into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for me and putting on the tea. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately; things have not been easy”

“I heard Ada had her baby. Congratulations”

“Yes, shame his father was taken from her. Haven’t seen her since the birth. Held up in a basement, not good for her or the baby” Polly groaned, shaking her head at the predicament. “Things only got worse when the boys pathetic excuse of a father turned up. Arthur and Tommy have been at one another’s throats.”

“I can come back at a different time Polly. Clearly you have a lot going on”

“No, no you are fine dear. A breath of fresh air in my world of madness.” She smiles, taking the teapot into her hands and pouring the hot liquid into my awaiting cup.

“While I was waiting on John, I finished your dress” I tell her taking a sip of the tea, ensuring I didn’t burn myself on the liquid.

“You did?” She asked, moving John’s suit of the way, hanging it on the door admiring it. “That would have been a nice suit for his wedding, shame he didn’t have it in time” She nodded admiring the work before taking the dress from the basket, holding it up to inspect it. “Ana…” She gasped

“If there is anything you don’t like I can remove it or add to it no problem” I tell her unsure if the gasp was good or bad.

“It's perfect. Oh, Ana you talented little thing” She breathed excitedly his hands running along the lace material at the hips. It was a show stopping piece, to really bring attention to one of the more prominent features of a woman. “Thank you”

“Polly, Polly the police are after our Tommy. They want to take him away” The youngest Shelby brother ran into the room breaking the moment. I felt my eyes widened at his words, what had he done now?

“What? Where is he Finn?” Polly rushed towards the younger brother, dress still in hand as she held his shoulder.

“The barmaid took him away with her. The one Arthur says makes Tommy soft” He shrugged nonchalantly, he was too young to understand what his words had meant, it hadn’t made them hurt any less though.

“Where did they go Finn?”

“I don’t know, her place I think.” The younger brother shrugged, his eyes wondering to me “Hey it’s you. I remember you. What happened your foot? Tommy wouldn’t tell me the other day.”

“Finn, go to your room.” Polly instructed, a worried looked on her face. She was standing, a hand over her mouth, her other holding the dress and ushering the boy out of the room. “Stupid boy, stupid, stupid boy”

A million thoughts ran through my head as the pieces started falling into place for Polly. The only thing I could focus on was he was with that pretty little barmaid. Just him and her, alone in her home. I swallowed back some sick, needing to get out of this house, I got up attracting Polly’s attention.

“Where are you going?”

“Home” I answered her sharply. The stupid tears I swore I’d never cry threatening to spill. How many more times was I going to allow a man like Thomas Shelby make a complete and utter fool out of me before I realised, I needed to move on, like Martha and Polly said.

“Why are you upset?” She asked once I had my back to her. Immediately she reached forward taking my wrist through the crutch to stop me moving, using it to turn me to look at her. Her hawk like eyes scanning over my face, looking down my body before back up to my face. “You slept with him?”

“No”

“But you allowed him to touch you” She pressed. Hearing the words leave her mouth had the tears falling freely from my eyes, I felt so dirty. So stupid. “Oh, my dear, Ana”

“Why is he doing this Polly?”

“He is a man; they only think with their cocks” Polly almost growled holding me against her chest. “I warned him. I told him not to lead you on, but he doesn’t listen. Stupid, stupid boy”

“I think I’m the stupid one”

“No Ana, no you’re not. He is an idiot for not seeing what he hasn’t in front of him”

“I thought he liked me. I was ready to give, you know 'it' to him last night, but he stopped me” I tell her, my voice muffled in her shoulder. “He’s such a pig”

“He is” Polly whispered in my ear before pulling back slightly. “Wait he stopped you from having sex with him?” She asked confused. I simply nodded my head at her question, Polly couldn’t help the look of surprise on her face.

Shaking whatever was going through her mind off, she held me at arm's length, hands on my shoulders, gripping them tightly. “You promise me now, you are done with him. He is not good for you Ana, sweet girl like you deserves a man who would give her the world”

"I have no doubt it is him, Ana. You bring out a side of him that only existed before the war, I thought that part of him died in France”

“So, there is still a chance?”

“No” She answered sharply, conflicting her words. “There is no doubt in my mind Thomas would give you the world. But you are too pure for this world, his world.”

“I can be who Thomas wants me to be”

“You most certainly will not. You do not change yourself for a man Ana, don’t do that to yourself” She scolded holding my face in her hand gently yet firmly. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes”

“Good girl”

“Polly the guns are gone, Campbell has them, there after Tom…” A loud booming voice yelled; it was so loud I was surprised the house didn’t shake due to the volume. “Hello dear…” Arthur stopped himself, seeing me in his aunts' arms. John trailing after him.

“John, take Ana home. We have things to discuss when you get back” Polly directed to the younger of the two men. I expected the man to refuse or kick up a fuss, but he didn’t. He simply walked forward, extending a gentle hand forward. “I’ll will call around tomorrow love, before lunch”

“Okay, goodbye” I called allowing John Shelby to escort me from the home and into the cold night once again. The atmosphere was different than it was when I first left for the house, the police whistles were blowing all over, along with shouts as they marched through the streets looking for Thomas Shelby

“You alright?” John asked after a moment

“Yeah, fell for your stupid brother again like a foolish idiot” I tried to laugh off, but it was too soon. “Congratulations on your wedding” I tell him changing the subject. Ever since our chat at the bar I started to feel safe around John, he was nice. Different than his brothers.

“Thanks. My stupid brother didn’t give me much of a choice. Thankfully she isn’t ugly, I can live with that”

“That’s good?” I questioned unsure how to respond to his reply, my response caused him to laugh.

“It is, believe me I have some standards.” He nodded, nudging me softly, a smile on his face. “I was the only sane one available left to marry anyway, Arthur is out of his fucking mind and Tommy is in love so, wouldn’t have been right for him to marry”

“Wouldn’t you have preferred to marry for love?”

“I did marry for love, but she died. I just wanted to marry for convenience for the kids. I’ll grow to love her” He answered plainly. The marriage really was a business deal, one that benefitted both sides.

“I’m so sorry John" I sigh feeling terrible, the man was the same age as me and he had already lost so much. "I know you said you feel like you have a choice when it comes to your family, but it doesn’t seem like you do sometimes”

“I know it looks that why sometimes, but it's not. I am okay with marrying Esme. As for my brothers, I think they should marry for love at least once. So, I had to give me brothers a chance.” He laughed as we reached the door to my home. “Polly is right about one thing, you're pure Ana but you shouldn't stay away. Your what our Tom needs, something to ground him. She just doesn't see it yet"

“Finn says it the barmaid that has his attention, has him going soft.”

“That’s our Arthurs. He doesn’t know much about you, so course he thinks it’s the barmaid that has my brother soft. If he knew about you, he'd know it was you.”

“John, I don’t…I can’t do this. I can’t be waiting around wondering what Thomas has done and whether or not he will be coming home to me. Maybe Polly is right, maybe I should stay away.”

“Are you giving up on my brother?”

“Can’t give up on something you never had”

“Oh, you have him Ana, you just don’t see it. Idiots the both of you” John replied shaking his head walking towards the front door “Thanks for the suit by the way.”

“You’re welcome” I replied waiting for him to leave before breaking down again, my heart breaking. I limped up to my room, a surge of angry pulsating through my veins as I used my crutch to knock things off the top of my drawers. Screaming in frustration as I hit the books and broken porcelain repeatedly with the crutch.

“Ana” A voice yelled but I didn’t care to stop “ANA” the voice got louder walking up behind me catching me as I threw the crutches across the room. The person ‘sshing’ me as they wrapped around me tightly squeezing me, bringing up both to the ground.

“I hate him” I yelled my hands smacking at their hands as they held tightly onto me.

“It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay” James continued to repeat in my ear, rocking me backwards and forwards until I calmed down.

“I hate him, I hate him” I repeated, my breathing slowly returning to normal.

“I know, I hate him to”

“I really hate him” I whispered twisting myself, so I was snuggled tight into his chest, his heart beating erratically in his chest. “I hate that he made me love him. Why, why did I have to fall in love with him?”

“I don’t know Ana; I wish I knew”



Taglist

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary

[tired-night-owl]

Gift To Her

Fandom : The Owl House 

One shot ?

I’m so sorry for doing Willow wrong like that but it’s that picture that inspired this fic soooo… I’m not sure if I want this to be a series because it would be my first multiple parts and maybe it’s not necessary for this story. If you’d like to have a second part to this just comment ! 

Word count : 1,270

Summary : On a day off at the Noceda’s, Hunter is working on a little project for his friends. What  poses a problem is a certain witch that makes his face change color and the pressure she inspires might be too difficult to overcome for the ex golden guard.

Notes : Huntlow, mention of nightmares but it’s mostly just cute stuff.

Hunter was working on a new accessory at the image of his loyal companion on a day where the gang wasn't working on the portal and instead enjoying their day like normal children. Camila ordered it because even if they did need to go back home, they also needed rest and a bit of fun. They already tried saving the world and lives multiple time, more time than any teenager should have to she argued. So he went to her sewing machine to sharpen his skills a bit. Getting his mind off everything was also helping his mental health and Flapjack knew that. So the little fella kept nagging Hunter for new twin socks in his honor.

He unfortunately lost one of his flapjack sock once in the demon realm so he thought about doing something bigger this time so he wouldn’t loose it. He thought about a hoodie, something similar to what he saw in the human store the other day. So he started planning. How was he going to make something so, detailed… on second thought, he settled for some socks and a shirt again. When he was done an idea flashed in his mind. 

« Flap, what do you say we make matching ones for everyone » the young boy asked his feathered friend 

An excited chirp was his answer.

So he began sewing. He started with Gus, Vee followed. She doesn’t have a palisman so he tried making her something that reminded him of the Noceda, then Amity, then Luz even though her palisman is just an egg for now… and then he thought about how he would make Willow’s gift. A blush crept up all the way to his ears just at the thought of giving her a gift and then the pressure on his shoulder was starting to feel heavier. Her gift needed to be perfect, he wanted to impress her the most even though he would never admit it to himself. 

When he was finally done, he pondered how he would give his creations to his friends. Taking them one by one and giving them personally would be weird right ? So he decided to make a group announcement and give them when everyone would be present at the same time. 

He waited almost 2 hours because of Luz. She went to help her mom at the clinic again, today of all days he said to himself. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise which was beginning to be a very hard challenge. He locked himself in the basement with his gifts, leg shaking, hands together, looking at his feet and when he wasn’t doing that, well he was walking circles around the house. The others came back fairly early from their own activities and were starting to worry about the blonde boy. 

He was acting so strangely they were starting to actually be concerned for his health or his safety. When Gus tried making his way to the basement, he almost fell down the stairs to stop him from going there. So let’s just say it was a relief when Luz and her mom finally arrived. 

Hunter went back downstairs to cover up his work and later finally let his friends join him. They all sat on the couch waiting for his big reveal. A worried look on their faces, Hunter’s nerves were making him doubt his decision. Maybe his work wasn’t that great and perhaps it’s just gonna be weird… 

« What is it Hunter ? » Willow asked with a voice almost shaking from concern

He blushed so hard Luz thought he was about to faint. 

« I um… made something for you -Well not you, YOU but you as like everyone… » the boy once known as the golden guard awkwardly replied trying to cover his embarrassment.

« Oooooh gifts ! » Luz and Gus said in unison

« It’s not much but I think they turned out pretty well » he said as he distributed the socks and shirts. 

Gus didn’t even try to wait for the others and opened his as soon as Hunter gave it to him. 

The girls followed as soon as the last one got hers. 

« Oh my god is it - » Luz started 

« PALISMAN MERCH !!!! » Gus and Willow screeched together 

« They’re really pretty Hunter thank you » Amity said politely 

« Yeah thanks Hunter it’s really kind of you » Vee added shyly 

« Vee and I don’t even have a palisman and you made us a gift too » Luz said with emotional tears in her eyes 

She went and hugged him, Amity and Vee joined her soon after. Gus and him did their secret handshake with a « thank you, you’re the best man ! »

Luz, Vee, Amity and Gus all went upstairs running, impatient to show Camila and their palimen what they received. Hunter looked up the stairs with a proud look on his face, delighted he made his friends happy. That is until he realized not everyone followed Luz.

He turned around slowly with a slight blush on his cheeks to meet the dark haired girl’s gaze But he was met with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He overheated. His entire face was a bright red and Willow could swore he stopped breathing.

« Sorry sorry sorry, I was aiming for you cheek and then you turned aroun-» she tried explaining equally embarrassed 

« HA, HA IT’S SO NOTHING, NO BIGGY, NO PROBLEMO MAN ! » 

« Okay… Anyway, thanks Hunter they’re really pretty. » 

She made her way upstairs with a shy smile on her face and cheeks the smallest shade of pink. She joined the others who were still showing their new matching clothes to their wooden pet.

Hunter froze on his spot for a couple of minutes until he mustered up the courage to go back with the group. He was so focused in his head telling himself not to blush and to stay cool that he didn’t even heard what Camila said to him. She repeated herself as she noticed he wasn’t all there.

« It’s wonderful work Hunter, you should be very proud ! You know I thought of something after seeing your gifts, what do you say we go to a fabric shop later this week so you can pick up stuff you would like to sew with. Would you like that ? » the mother asked 

« I- yes, I would like it a lot Mrs. Noceda, thank you. » he looked up at the woman with a bright smile 

———

Later that night, Hunter found himself sleepless because of another one of his nightmares. He went to the kitchen as silently as possible to get himself a cup of water and move around a bit hoping to stir his mind somewhere else.  

As he was making his way back to his makeshift bed, the slightly opened door of the girls’ room caught his attention. Scared at the thought of someone still awake and calling him a creep, he gave a quick look over everyone to make sure he didn’t bother his sleeping friends. But then he saw her. She may not have been in all her glory but it made him blush anyway, thinking about the incident earlier in the day, the color deepened. His embarrassed covered face quickly changed to something else when he noticed what she was wearing to bed. 

He went back to bed with a warming emotion that night, the fear of the nightmares wasn’t holding him hostage at least not today. Instead, He would dream of a beautiful, strong girl wearing a bee shirt and clover socks. 

Somehow the next day, the dark circles underneath his eyes and his worried expression seemed to have faded a little. 

[aeide-thea]

so i was like 'i could swear i didn't feel this hideously dysphoric last summer, wtf is my dealio lately!!' and finally it occurred to me, 'okay, fine, let's maybe try putting on one of the ribbed men's tanks i wore religiously all last summer instead of the women's technical tops i've been wearing lately, and see what effect that has,' and. yeah. fuck. 🤦

it really is like. every! damn! season! i get seduced into thinking maybe i can wear just a little bit of reasonably-unfeminine women's clothing, and the idea is appealing because i'm actually comfortably encompassed by that size range, whereas with men's shirts i often ideally would wear an XS but can't get one—and yes, boys' stuff exists and i do ever wear it, but sometimes you're in the market for stuff that's slightly higher spec than anyone bothers to make for kids, you know? but anyway it's just so reliably the case that like. every fucking time i'm like, okay, sure, let's try a little womenswear, it turns out that i can bear it for a little while and then i realize something about it is making me fucking crazyyyyyy. >:|

sux bc the problematic batch of tanktops is like. such a good light comfortable wicking all-natural fabric! that's why i wanted them and they're everything i hoped they would be! and they're genuinely not even overtly feminine! but the straps are just a little too narrow and the cut is just a little too )ᓑ( and it's like. in some contexts those things are bearable, but in others they're really just. Bad, it turns out. :(

anyway they are sufficiently slouchy that in theory i could probably just, like, do some aftermarket alterations to improve the shape??? like i think i really just need them to be, you know, simple tubes straight up and down and not the vaguely /ᓑ\ shape they currently are, which in theory ought to be simple enough to achieve (especially since they're also a little long, so i could just hem them straight and stop worrying about how to factor in the vaguely high-low thing that's also happening). however. probably NOT realistic to do by hand (like. if nothing else i just don't have the patience) and while there is a sewing machine kicking around here somewhere i absolutely don't remember how to use it and do live in fear of it (i just have like. vague recollections of various Mysterious Snarls back in the day). so. idk. blergh, argh, etc.

(i assume 4p would just be like 'try it! learn as you go!' and like. honestly that's fair and maybe i even will, i think the manual is also kicking around actually, but. would prefer to have it magically sorted. :/ like, sometimes you just want a wardrobe and not a project, you know??)

[shoshiwrites]

BABE WAKE UP ITS A SHOSHI WRITING ASK 🗣️‼️ ok let’s get into it <3

💢 [ ANGER ] & 🍧 [ SHAVED ICE ] for Jo ( and give her a lil kiss on the forehead for me please and thank you 🤭 )

🌙 [ MOON ] & 🙈 [ SEE-NO-EVIL ] for Frankie <3

📣 [ MEGAPHONE ] & 📦 [ PACKAGE ] for Vicky ( blowing a kiss to the sun for the darling army nurse )

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

Jo doesn't sit still, most of the time, and when she's sitting she fidgets. She taps her pen and bounces her knee, she drums her nails on the table or against her coffee glass. If she's sitting next to a loved one listening to something on the radio, she'll pull their hand into her lap and tap on that instead. She also has a habit during stressful periods/work-nights of postponing food until it's super late and she's wandering around the kitchen, not purposefully trying to make noise but still making all the noises that people make in the kitchen i.e. opening/closing the fridge, drawers, clanking utensils, etc.

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

Most everything she had to sell for the money, but she's kept a few pieces of her mother's jewelry, notably some earrings and a St. Christopher's medal. The earrings are more keepsakes, she doesn't wear them, while she eventually brings the medallion with her and to wear. There's a whole storyline with it that I'm very !! about. I think there's also the possibility that while she couldn't hold on to her mother's sewing machine, she kept her sewing kit, and some beautiful old threads and buttons and tools that were in it.  

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

Frankie is a really giving person, and I think one of her dreams is to create a space where people can come and relax and enjoy themselves and be themselves, like a café/restaurant. It's to give that to other people, and it's something she's wanted for herself since she left home as a teenager, that care and community. When she cooks for her friends and talks and laughs and shares food and wine with them, she wants that feeling and atmosphere on a bigger scale. While working as a switchboard operator is a way to make a living and to keep her head down, it's not what she wants for the rest of her life.

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - what's a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

Understandably, Frankie is afraid of showing aspects of who she is to people who won't accept them or will use that information against her - namely the fact that she's a lesbian and loves women. It's not that she doesn't want people to know this, but she knows very well that there can be very real consequences. Relatedly, I think she keeps some of the softer sides of herself hidden in the day to day, around people who don't really know her, the parts of herself that are very loving and also desirous of love.

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

Vicky is loud, but it's a practical kind of loud. She grew up as a middle child and an older sister, and used her voice to assert herself and to advocate for others. She's a firm and direct person both in her work and with her friends, especially the former. Meek and mild doesn't get her where she wants to go, and so, she's not. I don't have a voice claim for her but in terms of how she speaks - I think of her as having a lower voice, and kind of a slightly Old Hollywood, wisecracking best friend vibe, although hopefully more nuanced?

📦 PACKAGE - what are some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

Most likely to stand up for you on the playground Most likely to have a ridiculous Starbucks order Most likely to fall asleep while studying  Most likely to mute the family WhatsApp (tied with Clara)

[OC Emoji Asks!]

[dearmyexmom]

Dear Mom,

One of the hardest things about not talking to you anymore is the fact that sometimes, I really miss you.

I miss you so much that it hurts.

But what hurts the most isn’t the fact that I know that talking to you will only ever generate stress and heartache. It isn’t the fact that talking to you will give you a victory that you’d lord over me for the remainder of your life; how you lost your daughter but managed through constant letters and cards and gumption, you won her back. The hardest part is the fact that I don’t actually miss YOU. I miss the mother I SHOULD have had. I miss the comfort of being able to go to an adult, to be held and told that I’m going to be okay. I miss the idea that I had someone who would always be there for me, who would have my back, and did it because they loved me. But we both know that wanting that from you, of all people, was one of the reasons that I left.

You couldn’t give that to me. I know that know, after nine years of silence. But I still crave that. I still crave the IDEA of a mother. And sometimes it makes me wonder if I made the right choice. If what I did was really in my best interest. When holidays come up, I wonder if the loneliness is worth it. I play out ideas in my head as to how it would be if I were still talking to you, or anyone else from our family. I wonder how I would feel, if instead of rejection, I’d gotten acceptance. My family tree feels so small since I trimmed the branches and I miss the feeling of being underneath a swath of people that were meant to be there for me. Who decided to have me, and then for the eighteen years I was with them, put themselves over me.

I know that the second I would say that, I’d get an argument, too. I still talk to my sister, and she defends you. She says that you were sick, that you’re doing so much better now, that so much went on behind the scenes that we didn’t see. But the fact of the matter is, or at least how I feel about it— you never did it where I could see it, because you didn’t actually do it. You like the idea of saying that you stood up for us. But you had eighteen years to do it even once. You knew that he hit us. You knew his hands went where we didn’t want them. You heard us say, ‘stop’. But television, or the sewing machine, or ducking your head was easier for you. And that’s putting aside all of the things that you did yourself, that you are still doing. It hurts when you tell me I’m punishing my siblings by not talking to you. It hurts when you send me a birthday card or text about how much you love me, and how you’re sorry for what I think you did to me. Maybe that’s actually what hurts the most. Is the lies, that you send to me, on my birthday of all days. The apology that isn’t an apology, just a four letter word that USED to fix everything between you and me.

There’s so much I wish I could say to your face. So much anger, hurt, and confusion. There are so many questions I want to ask you. But I also know that none of my questions would ever get the truth. It would be whatever you thought you could say to make me like you again. Or whatever you could think to say that would make you the hero, even when you know that at best, you were the character on the sidelines that watched it all happen. There’s also a lot of joy that I’ve come across in my life recently that I wish I could share with you. That I wish I could share with my mom. My marriage, my successes, my happy little moments. I wish I could come to you for advice, for guidance, as a daughter should have been able to do with her mother. But when I look at the phone, or when I go on social media, when I get so close to hitting that ‘unblock’ button because I think my heart can’t take it anymore—

I remember.

You didn’t actually care about those things when I was a kid. There were more important things in your life at the time. There’s still a lot of important things in your life. And it isn’t the fact that I want to be, or wanted to be, your center of attention. Or that I feel like not ENOUGH time was given to me. You had four kids, three of which I helped you raise. It’s the fact that there wasn’t enough room in your mental floor for me at all. It’s the fact that it wasn’t until the very week that I was packing up to leave your house, that you wanted to know about my day. Or that until after I wasn’t in your house anymore, that you wanted to call every day. It’s the fact that while I was five feet away from you, you couldn’t turn around to talk to me. But when I left and looked for someone who wanted my attention and time, you had to monopolize what you never wanted. And at first, I was so happy. A mom that wanted me around and wanted to talk to me had come out of the woodwork, had risen out of the eighteen foot grave that was our relationship . . . But who got angry at me when I was at work. Who got upset when I couldn’t drop everything I was doing while living a state away from you so that you could come over at the drop of a hat. Who told me she wished I would lose her number, and who told me that she hopes I was happy with my “new” family.

Fuck, mom. Did those words hurt the most. I didn’t want a new family. I didn’t go out to find one because my old one wasn’t good enough for me. I didn’t leave because I wanted to hurt you, or because I felt like I was too good for you. I left, because I was so tired of hurting and wondering why I wasn’t good enough for YOU. I still sometimes wish that I had been.

I think that’s enough words for now. I’ve gotten some of it out, at the very least. There’s a lot more to come, too. But maybe . . . Just maybe, getting it out . . . Little by little, saying what I’ve wanted to say to you for almost a decade . . .

Maybe that’s how I heal.

From,

Me.

[tentacledtherapist]

Bonus Letter: The Weekend

This weekend was TRULY MADNESS. I got to do so much fantastic mad science and the drama was a delight. As I alluded to previously, I play an undead Victorian who now works as a doctor/surgeon in the middle of a zombie apocalypse full of the undead and mutants and all sorts of things. Her name is Mairin, her gender does not match mine but I love playing her all the same. This weekend she and some townsfolk were kidnapped by mutants and brainwashed and injected with something to turn them into mutants too. When they were released they had to find an antidote so she vivisected her friend who was also infected and removed her kidney. They were actually attacked in the middle of surgery by the mutants and nearly died, but were protected by the townsfolk of the apocalypse settlement, and managed to finish the surgery. By testing the kidney she was able to determine how much of the chemicals were filtered since time of infection and how much more they need to take to filter the chemicals, and completely cure the remainder of the townsfolk who were kidnapped. It was insanely fun to tie down my friend while they thrashed about and reenact a surgery. The way the fake blood got all over my hands and made it difficult to sew with the needle slipping was too real and oddly thrilling. It's funny, the other person who plays a doctor with me is a former EMT in real life so my friend who was our patient gave us a delightful analysis afterward about how my technique and his technique differ and how they are similar. I've watched a lot of surgical videos so I have a decent understanding of procedure, but I also alter it on purpose to match what my character would know and how she would act. Which influences why, unlike real doctors, next time I am using a damn thimble!

- Creature

!!!!!!!

oh my god that sounds so so fun!!! was this, like, a long term event that you were only part of for the weekend? or did the whole story play out over the weekend? the worldbuilding, jeezus… zombie worlds are often some of the coolest conceptual worlds, cause you get to futz around with the Everything of how the world works, without having to, like, build a world from scratch? even if you get a lot of cinemasins-types nitpicking the logistics of how your zombies work, or whatever

so… weird fun fact: i can’t watch surgery? or even reenacted surgery? something about it just grosses me out. i can watch slashers doing horrific murders in movies all i want, but the moment a medical drama brings out the scalpel, i get kinda sick. it’s, like, the main reason why i dropped out of pre-med school and did physics instead

anyway, i’m pretty sure the blood is why most doctors use tweezers to hold the needles while they do sutures, cause thimbles are there to protect your fingers from either: a) getting stabbed by the needle, or b) developing pain and/or a callus from pushing and pulling a needle through thick fabrics? (thimbles are a life saver when i’m sewing patches onto things like my brothers’ battle jackets. >:( thick denim and/or leather are the bane of my fingers and i gotta hand stitch ‘em since a sewing machine can’t get into the small areas of the jackets)

- Lisa

[wonkysews]

Vest 2

the yardage & dress. the yardage was a beautiful cotton/wool from miss matatabi that i accidentally tortured in the washing machine. it looked even worse before i stretched it back out as much as i could. now it is a very interesting cotton/felted wool crinkle plaid. i liked the pockets on the dress and figured i could incorporate them.

I realised the dress was a trapeze cut so I took apart the panels, squared them off, and sewed most of them back together to make an on-grain (mostly... its linen and I'm not great at this) rectangle of fabric

i quilted the linen to some batting (just a few vertical lines - i didn't want to sew through the pockets or have a quilted 'look' to the linen side. we'll see how that pans out; i'm not planning on washing this beyond some spot cleaning so it shouuuuld be fine. i then laid the yardage on top and safety pinned the three layers together.

doubled up and patched together the pattern* so i could lay out the whole thing with as few seams as possible (just shoulder seams!) for this vest, I didn't have enough black linen for bias binding and none of my remnants looked good against both the yardage and linen to me. so i decided to try cutting the linen side with enough of an allowance to double fold over and sorta self bind the edges. this is stupid and doesnt work very well, but perfection is not my aim and the yardage is fucked up beyond belief anyway so what are a few more weird wrinkly bits? * This purl soho pattern, which i've modified heavily in length and shape, especially the front

basted the edges like so. i rolled with any folds/pleats needed to make the edge of the yardage fit into the linen layer neatly. i left the back neckline and recut it a couple of times to try to fix a fit issue (it helped a little but i think i need a redraft or darts to fix it properly)

i knew my sewing machine would not be able to evenly feed the crinkled yardage even with a walking foot, so i tried something new and cut off the shoulder seam allowance entirely and instead joined it with a strip of linen i wrapped around the entire seam that i would fell down on either side. i also left the hand basting in underneath to give it a little extra strength.

all basted. all i had to do from this point was make the ties and fell everything down! didn't take photos of the tie process but i just sewed a tube, used a loop turner to turn them inside out, folded one end in and hand stitched it together to close them off and hide the raw edges.

shoulder seam felled down.i'm not an amazing hand sewer but i'm getting better, especially thanks to resources like this one. when i got to felling down the parts where i wanted the ties, i tucked the ties in between the folded over linen layer and yardage, tacked them to the yardage & batting inside the seam allowance, and then continued felling down the linen over the ties.

finished vest! not pattern matched, you can see where i was more successful stretching the shrunken fabric back out, odd tension where the 'binding' fights the grain of the fabric... but i'm happy with it, especially the pockets. i'm glad to get some use out of my stupid mistake with the wool/cotton plaid yardage. i might pick stitch/ hand quilt some areas eventually but for now i'm gonna leave it.

[epsilontauri]

dealing with grief is so fucking wild.

one moment i‘m ok and packing my things into neat little moving boxes, and one second later i‘ll remember how she always greeted me in a sing-songy voice and immediately offered me food, tea or coffee when i walked in.

and then i weep because she’ll never do that again.

i when i‘m somewhat ok again, i‘m telling people around me who never got to meet her who she was, how she was, hoping to make her immortal by planting little parts of her in the knowledge and memory of other people.

like, the way she planted mint in the garden and instead of taking over, it barley grew— she was always so frustrated about it! how does the mint not grow at all?! she just wanted to make fresh mint tea. or the way she managed to keep a huge pot of sage alive without doing anything. how she was concerned every winter for the fern that she planted outside of her kitchen window. how she scribbled into all of her cooking books, especially when she liked a recipe. how she collected and build her own library, but kept mixing classics with fantasy and children’s books.

she wrote poems and short stories. i hope she wrote them all down somewhere and we‘ll manage to find them. she wanted to color her hair in a hot pink once the white hairs were more prominent. she asked her youngest son in the morning how many books she should take with her to read in the hospital after the surgery. she asked her second oldest son what kind of cake he wanted next week for his 33rd birthday. she always let her husband trim her long hair. she wasn’t crafty at all and couldn’t sew to safe her life (it was her husband who would fix everything with the sewing machine) but after she spent one summer looking after her grandmother as a teen, she learned how to knit socks and kept doing that.

she believed that magic is found in nature, and she showed me where to look for it. she was always making sure that everyone is treated fair. she accepted immediately that i‘m non-binary’s without any fuss and called me ain from then on. she even understood how i felt about womanhood and related to it, and she told me she’s probably nonbinary too, and i was almost crying in relief, bc my own mother was just crushed and weeping as if i just died in front of her. one time she was more excited to see me that her 3rd son (my ex), despite haven’t seen him in a long time too, bc i wasn’t around as often after i broke up with him after my outing. she loved harry potter but no longer wanted to read it after i told her about jkr’s transphobia.

and she loved halloween so much! she decorated the house in fake spider webs and was always a bit disappointed that no kids came over for candy, mostly due to the fact that her house is on the very end of a steep road up the hill. she loved moomin. i hesitated taking the mug with moomin-papa bc it was her favourite, but i took it bc she also knew that i liked it a lot. the coffee tasted less bitter in it.

i once tried to embroider her medieval dress and only managed to finish one side, but she was excited nonetheless about my work and proudly announced that it’s my work whenever someone pointed it out. i still have the rings that she gave me as a gift, and she wanted me to inherit a beautiful hand-painted wardrobe from 17-something, just because it was a wedding gift of the girl who happened to share my deadname and she still thought i was meant to have it, even if my name is a different one now.

gods, i miss her so much. she was less like a second mother and more of a friend to me. this shouldn’t have happened. she should be around and complain about the heat and how she gets tired more quickly while reading. she would tell me how this time, she would refuse to do the math exercises during recovery, even if it‘s important to monitor her brain function, and eventually admit that she would do them, but still has the right to complain about it bc of her dyscalculia, and i would send her pictures and videos of my cats to cheer her up.

i wanted to tell her that i found my person and that i‘m engaged and we’re planning to get married. i wanted her to meet my fiancé and see them both talk about movies and art and board games. i looked forward to see her excited smile and feel her crushing hug and her breathless „…but oh ain, that is so wonderful!“ i wanted to share my special interest in danmei with her and give her one of the books to read.

i just want her back. i want her to be around happy and healthy and enjoying retirement with her husband.

but she won’t. she’s gone.

[sheliesshattered]

Between work and needing to be super ridiculous strict about my bedtime routine to try to take on the pernicious insomnia monster that’s been trying to wreck everything, I’m finding that I can squeeze in an hour, maaaaybe two hours of work on my cosplay on weekday evenings. Weekends are slightly better, but weekends are also for all the keep-the-household-running things that I’m not doing during the week, and still forcing myself through the magical-make-Sam-sleep bedtime routine even on the weekends. My poor spoonie body cannot handle getting less than 8 hours of sleep a night, so sacrifices have to be made, no matter how much I hate it.

But even with the severe time limitations, I’m still making progress on the Rhaenyra red dress little by little. I’m working my way through adjustments to my mock-up, which is the whole point of it but is still a little tedious. The bust seam has been the worst of it, and I’m gearing up to sew version 3 of that -- tho thankfully I didn’t have to completely re-cut all four front panels for this adjustment like I had to for version 2. It’s nearly there, I just need to shave a little off the side-front and resew the seam on both sides. 

Tonight I got my pinning transferred to the paper pattern, the paper pattern cut down, and the seam picked out so I can cut down the fabric version and re-sew it tomorrow. Since there’s already a mismatch between how long the straight center panel is and how long the curved side-front panel is (with the curved bit being a couple centimeters longer), and since the seam line is hitting where I want it as measured out from center front, I’m taking all the excess out of the side-front panels instead. The flatter I can make that seam the less trouble it’ll be easing it into the shorter straight panel, and since I’ve got to make this pattern up twice in two different silk fabrics, every little millimeter I can shave off of it will be a help. But like I said, I think it’s almost there, hopefully version 3 will be the final version.

I also did a second version of the sleeve in my last round of adjustments, and besides lengthening the bit that can be sewed by machine (vs left open so it’s wide enough for my hand to get through, and then hand-finished and done up with little hooks-and-loops) by about 6cm, the sleeve is looking perfect. That adjustment was easy to transfer to my paper pattern, so the sleeve at least is all ready to go.

The last adjustment I want to make is actually narrowing the skirt through the hips, and thus narrowing the hem a bit as well. Looking at how it fits on Rhaenyra, at least in ep8 when we get a good look at the back, it’s really quite fitted through the mid or even low hip. Right now I’ve got waaaay too much ease through the hips, so I pinned it in a bit when I was also pinning in the bust, and it looks like I need to take out about 32cm at the low hips (so 3.2cm on each of the 10 panels) and about 10cm total at the high hips. Tonight I only got as far as checking that against my original body measurements from last month, but taking it in by that much would result in a skirt just slightly bigger than those measurements, which is right where I want it to be.

But it’ll also mean that the skirt is significantly narrower at the hem. I haven’t done the math yet (and probably won’t tbh), but I do want to cut down one of the skirt paper patterns and use that to mark new sewing lines on each of the 10 panels so I can take it in and see how it feels at that size. If the skirt is too narrow at the hem I need to know that before I start cutting it out of the various silk layers.

Hopefully I can get to those adjustments tomorrow, and maybe even sew up all the new measurements and check the fit. But even if it takes me a few more days to finish up the fitting portion of this, I’m not really running behind -- I’ve ordered a bunch of stuff online for this project, including ultra fine pins and machine needles, fine cotton thread, the silk jacquard for the dress itself (from a place in India where they hand-make it!), the silk organza for the under dress, and the second of the two trims for the dress (the first having arrived weeks ago). Of all that, only the silk organza has arrived, and without the needles and thread there’s only so far I can get with that, anyway. I can trace the pattern pieces onto the organza, but I want to stay-stitch in the seam allowance before I cut it out, so that step can’t happen until my JoAnn’s order arrives.

Besides those bits, I still need to order the three types of beads that go on the dress, grommets to lace up the back and lace on the sleeves, and the wig, rings, and earrings to complete the look. I’ve already ordered the necklace, since I’ll need that to decide on the exact height of the neckline, and hopefully it’ll be here soon -- it’s coming from Italy but it’s already cleared customs, so keeping my fingers crossed that the mailman will have a very special delivery for me soon.

I was having a bit of a blah day yesterday, largely because of stuff going on at work, and had a moment of wondering why I was even bothering with this cosplay, who is even going to care. And then the silk organza arrived and it’s like pure joy in fabric form, and I remembered, oh yeah, I care that I’m making this beautiful thing, just for the joy of wearing a beautiful thing and representing a character that I love on my body. In the end, that’s what cosplay is for me, that’s why I put so much time and effort into making something like this. If I think about the whole project together it’s a bit overwhelming, but each individual step is something I can handle, so I’m just going to keep plodding along, an hour or two here and there, until I finally have something beautiful to wear.

And with that, I should really make myself get on with my evening routine so I can actually sleep tonight -- and hopefully not have pattern drafting dreams again, lol. Wish me luck.