#yes my sewing machine is still in pieces

[higgsboshark]

okay look

I need new pajamas, flannel is on sale at Joann's for $4 a yard, and it's payday tomorrow

What am I gonna do, NOT be consumed by hubris and buy way more than I will ever sew?

[the-busy-ghost]

Knowing very little about clothing construction beyond the basics of how to hand sew in a straight(ish) line, combined with machine made fast fashion garments that fall apart easily, means it takes me waaaay longer to fix a button or a ripped pocket than it really should

[20dollarlolita]

If anyone is wondering, this tutorial to make this skirt is still a method that works. Both those links are from wayback machine captures from a time before Photobucket betraying us all and deleting pictures.

Yes, I'm still mad about that.

Anyway, in the spirit of seeing if budget lolita was still doable in 2023, here we go with a cost breakdown:

>Main skirt fabric was a $10 walmart 4-yard precut; enough fabric to make waist ties not pictured here >Skirt is fully lined with a polyester bedsheet I got for $1 at a surplus store >The bow lace was part of a bulk purchase, ended up costing 21cents a yard. Skirt probably has 6-8 yards of lace on it. The little vertical strips were scraps from another project. Back shirring on skirt is 1/4" elastic, which covid conveniently made super cheap. >I didn't have the zipper on hand, so I had to buy one for $1 at walmart. As anyone who has been on Wawak knows, that's massively overpaying for zippers.

This skirt is 3" longer and a few sizes larger than the one in the post. I had to make a new cutting layout for the skirt, and it took a fair bit of additional fabric. In addition, to save on fabric width, the "side seams" on this are actually a little bit farther back than the side of the skirt. I cut the back of the skirt to full fabric width, and then added the adjustment for the fullness into the side front pieces. Clarice, who wrote the original tutorial, mentions that the person she made it for was very small, so I sized it up a little bit.

I make sketches like this as I go for personal reference, but maybe it'll be helpful.

In the spirit of livejournal, I "clarified" my sketch by making it more confusing in GIMP. (Your pieces you need to cut will be back: 44"x19.5", cut 1. Side Front, 22"x19.5", cut 2. Center Front, 15"x25.5", cut 1. Frills, 5.5"x44", cut 9 or 10).

So, when we get into it, yeah, if you have a good design (or can copy a good design) and you're willing to put some time into it, you can still do a budget lolita skirt for under $20 of materials, if you're careful. I'm mostly making this post to save which archive.org captures are the ones with working pictures.

(It also helps if you don't mess up on the waistband so many times that it slowly shrinks into a 1" waistband.)

Fun fact: the trim on the ends of the waist ties may or may not be because I hemmed them sloppily and the hem came up bubbly, and zigzagging some lace onto the bottom handily covered up the bubbling. One of the advantages about knowing a decent amount about lolita fashion is that you can look at things and go, "Yeah, if I added x here, it'd be fine," and knowing enough about sewing to go, "yeah, if I do x cheat here, it'll look better" and being able to put the two together and go, "hey, if I cheat here, it'll still look lolita!" It's a good feeling.

Anyway, if anyone else has ever used Clarice's tutorial to make a skirt, I'd love to see it! This is my second time using it, but the last time was almost a decade ago at this point, and I think I've improved a lot since then.

[endless-summer-soldier]

dr. feelgood - chapter one

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, very minor character death

word count: 1.2k

series playlist: here (I'm still finalizing this so it might change)

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy (message me to be added!)

series masterlist

There was a stranger in my bed. A very handsome, naked stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. I rolled onto my back and tried to piece together the events from last night, but all I could remember was tequila. Too much tequila.

I crawled out of bed and headed for the shower, hoping the stranger would sneak out while I was in the bathroom. Today was a big day and being hungover was not part of my plan. I chugged some water and took a few Advil before I rinsed all of last night off my body.

When I walked back into my bedroom, Handsome Stranger was still in bed, but he was awake, which was progress.

“You forgot to invite me into the shower with you,” he said, sitting up in my bed. I gave him a small smile and said, “Let’s not do this. Last night was really fun, but I need you to leave.”

“Kicking me out already? No breakfast? No morning sex?” 

“I’m starting a new job this morning and I really need to get ready,” I said. I grabbed the stranger’s clothes from the floor and tossed them at him.

“Wow, you really are kicking me out. This is going to impact your rating in my little black book.”

“Do you even remember my name?” I asked.

“Is it Lindsey? You look like a Lindsey.”

I chuckled, “It’s not Lindsey.”

“Okay, well I may not remember your name but I do remember the mind-blowing sex we had last night.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” I walked over towards him wrapped only in my towel and held my hand out, “Y/N”

“Bucky,” he took my hand and gave it a solid squeeze before letting go.

“Look Bucky, I’m sure you’re really great but I can’t do this right now. I have to focus on my career. Yes, I had a great time last night, but this can’t happen again. So I really do need you to go.”

He held both hands up in surrender, “Fair enough, I appreciate the honesty. I will get out of your hair.” He took his clothes from the heap on the bed and started putting them back on. I retreated back to the bathroom to dry my hair and brush my teeth. I let Bucky collect his things and leave without another word, avoiding any further awkward conversation.

I finished getting ready and could swear I smelled coffee, likely just my brain tricking me. When I departed down the stairs I heard the coffee maker brewing and froze, knowing I didn’t start the machine. There was a note scribbled on the white board attached to my fridge that read:

Good luck on your first day. Coffee’s on me :) - B

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered to myself. At least he didn’t leave his phone number because I might’ve been tempted to text him. A new guy was the last thing I needed right now. So I poured myself a travel mug full of coffee and departed for the hospital.

It was strange to be dressed in periwinkle scrubs and a lab coat. All through medical school, I dreamed of this moment, when I would finally be a surgeon. And yet, putting on the scrubs felt wildly underwhelming.

I stood in a group with my fellow interns as our resident, Dr. Palmer gave us a tour of the hospital and a run down of our basic expectations. I exchanged glances with a few of the interns in my group, but we didn’t have an opportunity to talk much.

The first day was fairly routine. We each had a chance to present on a patient and answer questions that Palmer asked us. The cases were all fairly routine which was a relief. Then we were sent off to the ER to complete basic examinations, take blood, and sew sutures. They were easing us in, which was a relief since I was still a little hungover, but I knew in the coming weeks we would be exposed to more and more.

Dr. Palmer introduced us to Dr. Stephen Strange, who was a world renowned neurosurgeon and apparently Palmer’s fiance. It wasn’t uncommon for doctors to be involved with fellow doctors because our work schedules were so demanding. Strange was curt and arrogant, but clearly highly intelligent and it would be a great experience to work underneath him. But I was most eager to meet the Head of Trauma, Dr. James Barnes. I’d read a lot of his articles and respected his resourcefulness as a former doctor for the Army. He had the kind of experience that couldn’t be taught in a hospital and I wanted to soak up as much of his knowledge as he was willing to give.

About halfway through the 12-hour shift, I found my way to the break room for a cup of coffee. The coffee pot was steaming which was fortunate because it meant a fresh pot had just been brewed. I poured myself a generous cup and added just a splash of cream. 

As I took my first sip, a voice called from behind me, “Not as good as tequila, but it works wonders.” 

I spun around and found handsome stranger smirking at me, clad in navy scrubs and a white lab coat. 

I’m sure my jaw was on the floor, but I did my best to cover up my shock, “What are you doing here?”

He walked over toward me and poured himself a cup of coffee, “I could ask you the same thing. Was my coffee this morning so good that you had to come here for more?”

I was too stunned to respond to his sarcasm, “I’m sorry, do you work here?”

He looked at me patronizingly. “What does it look like?” He held his arms out, drawing my attention to his scrubs.

This couldn’t be real. I was about to pinch myself to test out my pain receptors when I caught a whiff of him. Ginger, bergamot, and citrus. The same heavenly scent that I had inhaled when I made my bed this morning.

 “So this is the new job, huh?” he asked me. I couldn’t even formulate a response but he didn’t miss a beat, “Very impressive, truly. This is one of the best programs in the country.” I simply nodded, trying to calculate the quickest way out of this conversation.

Luckily I was saved by my resident. Dr. Palmer entered the break room and interrupted the conversation.

“Dr. Barnes, I see you’ve met one of my interns.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. Handsome stranger was Dr. Barnes. The Dr. James Barnes who I’ve admired for years and was incredibly excited to work with. And I drunkenly slept with him last night without even knowing who he was. I could feel my career slipping through my fingers.

“Yes, I was just about to introduce myself,” he stated. He extended a hand to me, “Dr. James Barnes, Head of Trauma.”

“Dr. Barnes, pleasure to meet you,” I faked enthusiasm. “I’m Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Dr. Y/L/N actually has a special interest in trauma, if I remember correctly,” Palmer added. 

“Is that so?” Barnes said, looking at me with amusement. I merely nodded with a smile and he said, “Well, it sounds like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. If you’ll excuse me, I have to scrub into the OR in about 30 minutes.”  

He walked out of the break room but then popped his head back in, “Looking forward to working with you Dr. Y/L/N.” I could see Dr. Palmer trying to piece together the interaction so I scurried out of the room before she could question me.

next chapter

[the-fiction-witch]

Just Breathe With Me

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet as Sugar!

Requested Can you please do a Jack Dawkins x reader who has a panic attack? ( comfort/fluff no smut ) wait omg plz do 🙏 only if you're comfortable of course

Warnings: Panic Attack In great detail! Please be careful!

I opened my eyes and was forced into this world, for a few brief seconds I enjoyed my peace until the chaos ensued. 

Olivia cried in her crib, her little body in her baby clothes stood up in her crib, her hands on the top of the bars as she shook them, her face red and her eyes squeezed tight with tears streaming down her face. 

Luna screamed on her bed, wearing her little white nightie, she jumped up and down on her bed screaming at Martin, as he tried to take her teddy. 

Martin shouted as he was took all the various teddies and toys to steal for himself, half-dressed but nothing more than his socks and trousers.

Lucas hits his stick on various things in the house, not dressed at all so he runs around naked, each hit makes a loud bang. 

He even knocks off a vase causing it to smash and sending broken pieces all over the floor. 

I forced myself up out of bed, my body exhausted but I had little choice but to get up and function. I quickly cleaned up the broken vase and just got on. 

I briefly became an octopus or I wish I had,  as I managed to cook breakfast, get each of my siblings washed, dressed, hair brushed and presentable, get myself dressed, changed Olivia, quelled four arguments and made the beds Before we even hit the top of the hour. I felt faint but Ignored it and pushed on. 

And right on time once every job was done, my mother trudged down the staircase from her bedroom upstairs in her nightie, her hair matted and messy, her whole body stank of whiskey, she sat herself in the chair and snapped her fingers.

The snap caused my heart to jump from my chest to my throat, beating rapidly, I hated myself but I handed over her spirit bottle. 

She immediately took an intense swig of it, and the first words out of her mouth were harsh and bitter,

"Where's my vase?"

"Lucas broke it this morning," I told her,

"Find a replacement today."

"Yes Mother," I nodded, 

"And we are out of food."

"Yes, Mother I will get food at the market."

"and I need more drink."

"Yes, Mother I will get some,"

"They'll be late for the schoolhouse."

"I know, I'm just taking them." I nodded, "Come everyone school time." I told them to sort them all out with their books and what little lunch I could give them and got them all out the door on time, 

"You won't see me later, I'm going out."

"Yes Mother," I sighed "Perhaps not too late-"

"Dont. Say a word." She demanded, 

I nodded and just got going into town. 

Of course, the town was bustling with the commotion of carriages, horses, carts and people all going about their business. I did my best with Olivia on my hip to make sure everyone else behaved and avoided getting hurt, having to juggle the three of them to the schoolhouse. a twisting in my stomach but I didn't have time to dwell on it, 

As soon as they were in the school house I had to scamper my way across town to drop Olivia off at her nursery, then before I had much time I had to get myself to my work in the local tailor pushing open the door and heading in grabbing my apron as I went catching my short breath. 

"You're late again!" He snapped,

"Sorry Mr Ashworth, I had to drop my siblings off," I said quickly sitting at my old rickety sewing machine almost fifteen years old this machine but still I had to use it every day to do hems and repairs, the pile as tall as me beside my table, having to go slow but not too slow or I'll never get finished, fast but not to fast as to damage the fabric, or catch my fingers, or break a needle, every time I had to rethread the machine with a new colour or type of thread for a different fabric or use I held my breath for a few seconds it took to change but every second counts and I can't afford delays. The longer the day went on I began to lose feeling in my fingertips, with tingling of pins and needles in my fingers and toes, but I pushed through even if it did mean I cut myself more often as without feeling I got dangerously close to my scissors and needles.

As soon as work was over I had to rush across town and pick up my siblings from the school house, I tried to keep them all in line as we headed to the market, and I got all the things we would need for the next few days while also batting at their hands to try and get them to settle and not steal things even if some things had to be paid for because someone ran off with them, all the while I kept feeling these flashes or heat, or chill but I don't have time to dwell on temperature.

Once I got all the food I took them home and left them to play dropping the groceries off too before I returned back to town to go looking for a replacement for my mother's vase, it was slim pickings but I managed to get one and haggle down the price to what little I had left for this month. I knew by now my legs were trembling, and my body felt like giving in but all I needed now was to pick Olivia up, go home, make dinner, do a round of baths and get everyone to bed. Ready to do all of it again tomorrow. 

When a young boy ran past knocking into me sending me tumbling down to the ground the vase hitting the ground and smashing into a million little pieces.

"No... no... no no no no" I muttered trying to put it back together. 

And the moment it smashed, I completely broke open. 

Tears streamed down my face, as I cried hysterically, my breath short and shaky, my throat choking and tight with every breath, my mouth dry and sickly, my heart raced jumping in and out my chest, my fingers and toes numb, my head dizzy almost to faint, my every limb shook and sweated, my stomach churned and turned like a hurricane, I couldn't even think, or even begin to know where to start to fix myself. 

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" A voice asked but I couldn't pick up much about it I just was lost almost distant from my body as it went through this agony, "Come on, with me." He said helping me to my feet and leading me to a rear alley out of sight of others, he helped me to lean against the wall and began to speak to me his voice soothing, and with his every word I began to slowly feel like I was swimming like I was at sea, my body a boat and slowly I was swimming back to it. "Okay, it's okay, Just breathe. Just Breathe with me... Breath in." He asked and I did my best even if I felt so short and so breathless, "And out." He asked so I did as he asked between my tears, "Okay, Just follow me just breathe with me, In... and out." He reassured He walked me through each breath he would make me inhale for five whole seconds, hold it for five more and then release for five seconds, he walked me through this for a good while until my breathlessness began to disappear, and between my tearful eyes my vision cleared and I saw him. 

He was a young man,  I wouldn't say much older than me, in brown trousers, a white shirt, a blue waistcoat, a green tie, a slightly purple jacket, and a hat, he had deep chocolate eyes and seemed to genuinely want to help me. 

"There we go, That a little better?" he asked and I nodded even if I still couldn't stop, "Alright, I want you to do some things for me, alright? Can you do that for me?" he asked and I nodded, "Alright, I want you to tell me three things you can hear, doesn't matter what just focus on the sounds and repeat them back to me."

For a moment I couldn't hear anything my ears ringing and burning but I knew one thing I could hear and I forced it out "You're voice."

"My voice,  That's perfect," He smiled, "You think you can do another one for me?"

I tried to listen to pour all my attention into my ears and I could hear "The Market Stalls,"

"You can hear the market? That's perfect, one more for me? One more thing?"

I listened closely trying hard to hear anything else "horseshoes,"

"Horseshoes, Excellent, what do you think they're from?"

"A carriage maybe?"

"Yeah I think so too," he chuckled, "You able to tell me your name?"

"Y/n."

"Y/n, That's a very lovely name." He smiled, "I'm Jack. You feel a little better?" he asked and I nodded "Good, That's very good. Just slow down, keep breathing for me, just stay here and stay still  a moment."

"I can't I need to-"

"The only thing you need to do right now is to get better. Trust me I'm a doctor. You're strung out to the limit and in the middle of a panic attack. Whatever it is I'm sure it can wait a moment." he said, "Y/n I want you to tell me three things you can see, doesn't matter what any three things."

I was nervous and still struggling but slowly my symptoms began to slow and I noticed just how fuzzy my voice was from the tears and how tunnelled my vision was, "Uhhh I uhh I see you..."

"Good, that's good you see me," he said, "Anything else?"

"The uhhh the sky."

"You see the sky, that's perfect, it's a very nice afternoon. One more I know you can do it."

"The wall, for the bakery."

"That's perfect, the bakery wall. Can you imagine all the lovely cakes, and pasties, and fresh loaves in there?"

"I uhh I can." I nodded,

"Excellent, One more little thing y/n, I want you to tell me three things you feel okay?"

as he said it I noticed just how little I really noticed but with each thing I listed to him I became more aware and more into this world again, 

"I, I feel the wall."

"How does it feel?"

"Cold, uhh stoney I suppose."

"Stoney?" he laughed, "what else?"

I slightly moved my feet feeling the dusty dirt around my boots slightly move to the side like sand as I did so, "I feel the dirt, as it pushes away."

"How does it feel against your boots?" 

"Rough and small" 

"That's good, one more for me, just one more."

As he asked it I felt almost normal, and I noticed "Your hand." I said, His hand graced mine his fingers on my wrist checking my pulse, the other on my neck but not harshly not as if attempting to harm me or threaten my throat but merely rested there as if he was monitoring my every gasp, 

"How do my hands feel?"

"Uhh Warm,"

"Good." 

"They feel rough," I blushed a little trying not to giggle while also trying to you know not insult the man who helped me, 

He chuckled, "Yeah, Surgeon. Sorry about that." He chuckled,

"Does that mean they are dirty?"

"I mean... yeah probably, I'm sorry for that too." 

"It's okay. I uhh Thank you." 

"You're welcome," He smiled, "I saw you were struggling I thought you were having a heart attack and first but no, a panic attack, Do you get these a lot?"

"unfortunately yes." 

"Alright, well. The best thing I can say is to try to manage your stress so it doesn't overflow, maybe slow down a little but those three sights, sounds, and feelings are really good it help calm and ground so use it when you can alright?"

"I uhh I will do my best." 

"I assume you have a stressful life?"

"Understatement." 

"If I let you go right now are you going to go straight back to the level of stress you were at?"

"I uhh... I am late from picking my sister up, and I need to get a new vase for my mother, and I need to get home and do dinner and get everyone to"

"Okay. Okay." he said stopping me, "I'm getting bloody anxious just listening to that," 

"Sorry-"

"It's alright, I was heading home anyway I can come give you a hand if you like?"

"No no, I couldn't-"

"It's no trouble, you need to relax a little if I can take something off your plate anything it'll help. In fact as your doctor at this moment I insist." 

"Well okay, my mother insists I come home with a new vase."

"Okay, I can find a vase. anything particular?"

"No, just a vase."

"Okay." He nods,

"I uhh but I don't have any money left."

"You let me worry about that, it's on me." He smiled, "I'll meet you back here when I'm done." he smiled heading off back to the market, 

I blushed but smiled and headed on my way picking up Olivia luckily she was asleep by now, and I returned to the alley where Jack already waited with a vase in hand. 

"Did I do good?"

"It's beautiful. How'd you-"

"It's best not to ask questions." he winked, "Aww who's this little lady?"

"This is Olivia." I smiled letting him see her but not wake her,

"Aww, she's beautiful, your daughter?"

"Sister, well half-sister really... though I don't honestly know." I answered, "But thank you so much, I really need to get home now,"

"Alright, I'll walk with you, so long as you don't mind,"

"Ohh no of course not, thank you."

"It's alright no trouble, here you take this, and I'll take this little lady." He smiled handing me the vase and taking Olivia letting her sleep on his shoulder as we walked, by the time we got home I felt a rush of anxiety as the house was a tip and my siblings losing their minds from being home alone so long, 

"Oh no no no."

"It's okay, don't worry. You take her and get her to bed. I'll take this lot and sit with them in the garden we can have a play around and get some energy out"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, it's no problem," he said,

"Alright, Okay everyone outside with Mr- uhh"

"Dr, Dawkins."

"Everyone out to the gardens with Dr Dawkins," I told them and of course, a chance to play outside was not passed up, he went out with them and I began work I put Olivia down to sleep in her cot and cleaned the house as best and putting the new vase on the shelf. Once done I sighed in relief and went out keeping the door open as I saw Jack helping my siblings, playing with them, playing a game of knights. Luna is a princess, Martian is a dragon and Lucas is a knight with Jack narrating them and helping them play. 

I smiled and took a seat on the bench outside the front door taking a rare moment to... be at peace, 

"You feel a bit better now?" He asked sitting beside me, 

"Yes, thank you, Jack."

"you're very welcome. they're great, a lot of energy."

"Yeah well the get cooped up a lot." 

"You know talking does wonders for anxiety." He smiled, "I'm not that sort of doctor but I'm happy to listen anyway?"

"I don't want to burden you, you've done enough."

"It's not a burden I want to help, and I admit I'm curious about you." 

I chuckled a little, "Well, we live here all of us."

"All five of you?"

"Six my mother too."

"Ahh, your father?"

"Never met him."

"You said Olivia might be your half-sister, where's her father?"

"They all are my half-siblings, as far as I know. None of us have the same father, as far as I am aware. None of them have ever met them."

"I see. You're mother she a -"

"She was,"

"That explains that then."

"It does, yeah."

"Then... why are you looking after them?"

"Mother... likes to drink."

"Ohh."

"yeah."

"I see. So she just goes out and drinks all day? leaves you alone with them?"

"Pretty much, sometimes she's here just... hungover as all hell."

"So you do... everything I guess?"

"cook. clean. baths. bed. back and forth to school."

"I'm surprised you didn't crack sooner..."

"Well, sink or swim I guess."

"I suppose so, still school gives you some break time I guess."

"I wish, got to go to work while they're at school, and Olivia isn't old enough yet."

"Hold up- You work?"

"Yes."

"You have a job! on top of basically full-time caring for four kids?"

"Yes."

"what do you do?"

"Tailor's assistant in town, I run the old machine in the back doing alterations."

"Ohh my god- that's a tough busy job. You work quickly in there."

"We do, two days or less for your garment to impress he really likes that motto." 

"I know, I got this repaired in like a day last time I got a rip in it," he said looking at his shirt,

"Yeah I think I remember it," I laughed looking at the familiar shirt, "Yeah, I was going fast the seam is crooked," I laughed 

"Ohh? I never looked that closely at it." He laughed, "How many hours do you work?"

"Eight hours a day seven days a week." 

"Holy- no wonder you're running yourself ragged. I'm a doctor and I don't work that much!"

"Well, I'm the only income coming in, got six mouths to feed."

"You are amazing, you know that?"

"I am."

"You are. That is insane, and the fact you do it with such grace. It's astonishing."

"Thank you," I blushed. 

"If I may be so bold, If you need an extra pair of hands, and you do. I'm more than happy to come help."

"I couldn't ask you to do that,"

"You're not asking me, I'm asking you. You're only going to get worse unless you lighten your load, and all although panic attacks are best just ridden out... they can cause serious damage." He explained, "I want to help, even if its just little things. I can take one job off you a day, or take them for an hour and go play in the garden just, something to lighten your load a little."

"You'd really do that?"

"I would,"

"Why?"

"Becuase you need help, and as a doctor, I can't stop myself from helping those who need it. and right now... you need it more than anyone."

"Thank you Jack," I smiled leaning my head on his shoulder,

"You're welcome Y/n" He smiled, kissing my head. "Now, how about you look after them I'll get dinner on?"

"It's a deal."

"Good girl, What uhh... what am I cooking?"

"Soup,"

"Soup?"

"Yeah,"

"What kind of soup?"

"Leek soup." 

"Just leek soup? you have any bread for it?"

"No."

"Okay, new plan you wait here and look after them I will get dinner as my treat."

"I can't ask you to-"

"No. No. I'm doing it. at very least getting bread if nothing else,"

"Alright."

"Good, I'll see you as soon as I can." he smiled kissing my cheek before he took his stuff and headed back toward town. 

[icancdramahanfu]

Maomao's skirt

Since I have decided to torture myself and do a cosplay in just over a month, I figured I would start with the easier part - the skirt.

In my intro post, I mentioned that her skirt isn't Ming accurate being vaguely mamian-like but not really. For this I played with two main ideas, using one of my other skirt patterns that has pleats and would be mamian-like or go for the circle skirt.

The fabric I selected was around 2 1/3 yards - less than I'd like but it was the entire remaining bolt and the color was perfect - don't trust my indoor lighting here. With the limited amount of fabric I had to do a little tetris to decide what pattern pieces to use. I washed and dried the fabric before ironing it.

My first and preferred pattern was this one:

Simplicity #2710 - 1949

I have already made this skirt, it has thick pleats and falls nicely. I figured it might be a good selection and I'd get that extra Ming style with lazy pleating.

Circle skirt

Less complicated since all I had to do was determine my waist, put it as the circumference and make a 1/4 circle pattern with my pre-marked cutting board. The bolt was 46" from selvage to selvage meaning if I kept one strip I had more than enough for a waistband. I am currently assuming a 4" wide waistband and went with 42" for the skirt length.

Unfortunately for my original plan, the vintage Simplicity pattern was too wide with the pleating. I'd need 3 1/2 yards of fabric and my current pattern pieces were set for a length of around 36" as well to the hem.

Circle it is!

Made my pattern pieces, two so that I could see how to fit them. The fabric has a decent thickness and I didn't want to fold it over and cut, opting to instead chalk out each piece individually on the fabric.

And yes, that is wrapping paper as usual with the square grids on the backside. I love this type of wrapping paper so handy! I cut out my fabric and took it to the sewing machine.

Next, I went ahead and did a zigzag stitch along all the edges except for the selvage. This fabric was showing how it would fray immediately. I washed it in the machine and this is what the edges looked like after drying.

Somehow, I messed up on the waist portion of the skirt panels and I had to take them down by 2". Not sure how I messed that up since I had the radius calculated. I tested this by holding them up to my body and realizing it was off.

Recall, that I have a very limited amount of this fabric, fearing something odd, I went ahead and sewed the front pieces together selvage to selvage and then the back ones. When I held them up to my waist they were still slightly off. I put in the right side seam and made sure all my seams were pressed. Something about my top of the panel pattern is off by a smidge and I need to put in about 3" of a spacer. I decided to put it down for the day and I'll figure out how to put that piece in, since the hips are okay?

It will also allow for me to decide if I want to be lazy and put in a side zipper. I'll go back and put a pocket in the right seam for sure. The next day - I went ahead and made a triangle to wedge into the gap area before putting in the zipper. I held the skirt up to my waist and measured it with my measuring tape. I zigzag stitched it and put it in the spot.

I also pressed the seam well. Then I decided to put in an invisible zipper in the spot for a side zip. I had to unpick the seam a bit to fit the zipper in further and get it up around my hips. Whoops.

Due to adding in the wedge the zipper is at a bit of an angle as shown here. I estimated the zipper coming up higher on the waistband so, I but in a hook and eye on the top to pull it together.

It turned out fine, I'm so limited by the fabric I have to work with. I still have enough to put in pockets on the right side. However, with the skirt cranked out in less than 24 hours, I have it now hanging to even out the hem. It hangs the right way so I'll take it.

Always remember to let your garment hang before hemming. I'm likely going to put some bias tape on the bottom, since this fabric is very prone to fray and then fold that up as opposed to a double folded hem. It is in place and will hang out in the closet for a day or two!

That's all for now! I'll start working on the aoqun this week as a modified pattern from my previous ones.

[janort]

i saw you collect clown shit I'm being a clown for Halloween can I see 👀

SCREAMING AND CRYING!!!! YES ID LOVE TO SHOW YOU!!! IM BEING A CLOWN FOR HALLOWEEN TOO!!! THANK YOU FOR ASKING ME ABOUT MY CLOWN STUFF <333333333

This is my clown suit, which is hand-made out of 2 colorful blankets and a pillowcase, i free handed most of it and also hand stitched about 60% of it because my sewing machine broke mid-project. (Just a heads up while we’re still at the top, this post is gonna be loooooooooooong and have a lot of pictures, also sorry for how gross the carpet looks he’s just like that)

This is my circus tent juice box

This is my costume drawer, where I cram as much stuff as I can fit, it’s pretty full so I’ll just show you my favorite stuff.

These are the highlights, my googley-eye ring, the first clown mask I made, the first party hat I made, my diy ruffled wrist cuffs and collar, and my jewelry hoard.

These are my clowns, which are both hand sewn, they’re names are Butterbean (left) and Corn (right). Butterbeans face was smudged by some water, I’ll get around to fixing it soon.

These are all the little trinkets I keep with them, things I find that I consider clownish. Most of these were picked up from dollar stores, thrift stores, stoop sales, giveaways or relatives homes. There’s a lot so I’ll just show my favorites.

These are my rubber reptiles, my tardigrade and monster finger-puppets, my wind up toys, and some bouncy balls and jingle bells.

This is my doorway decoration.

These are my other accessories that don’t fit in the costume drawer. My collection of silly sunglasses, my second favorite vest, this lovely sweater, and of course the essential clown nose and bow tie.

These are my clown shoes. These rubber boots have tragically become far too small for me, so I’m saving them untill my cousins are older. The rainbow sneakers are only for special occasions because they hurt my feet and Im trying to protect the color.

Land lastly, this is my favorite sculpture, I made it a few years ago.

All these were collected over the past 3ish years, a-lot of pieces were hand made or found in cheap stores, when I go out I keep my eyes peeled for anything clownish and that’s why I’ve managed to grow my hoard so large lol. If anyone reading wants to use the pictures for something (a mood board, a collage, whatever), tag me so I can see it!!!! Thanks for sending me this ask :o) I literally jumped out of bed as soon as I got it because I am a weapons-grade weirdo and love to talk about clowns

Have a lovely day and a happy Halloween!!!

[voidmade]

Material objects i've discovered/rediscovered/am still enamored with within the last year:

-dancer shorts: it took me a bit to be comfortable with wearing these outside but it's the ultimate summer comfort piece, and so multifunctional!

-jewelry-like purse

-Nike x Comme des Garcons heel sneakers: my friend who used to work at Nike showed me these pre-release and i was sneering so hard but i woke up one day wanting them and it's been nothing but love ever since

-fur vests: loved them for a long time but this fall&winter they truly showed me how wonderful they are as layers for cold weather

-Gods and Kings: The Rise and Fall of Alexander McQueen and John Galliano by Dana Thomas : incredibly researched and so captivating, it will open your eyes abt these designers' works!

-Fashion at the Edge by Caroline Evans: another incredible research into the experimental runway shows of the 90s and 00s, dealing with darker themes and controversial fashion

-Dior Backstage foundation : happily committed for nearly 4 years, and with each and every use i am reminded why i love it so much

-Rom&nd Milk Tea Velvet Tint (in shades Earl Grey Tea and Black Tea): i always wear it as a lipstick in a nice thick layer, i just adore these shades

-Ben Nye white eyeshadow

-oil perfume:generic from my local arab produce store and a bit more high end, Oud Attar Discovery Collection - i never got as many compliments on my perfume since i started using oil perfumes, the scent lasts ALL day and it always fills whatever room i am in, my dream of being a walking incense stick came true!

-Accutane:yeah this one's a life-changer ngl...and side effects weren't that bad!

-bar soaps(two i have recently purchased, regular Aleppo soap and Tobacco scented soap from Alchimia)-rediscovering them after being a long time user of just liquid soap&shower gel, yes it feels a lot more sustainable, less waste, they last longer, plus the wonderful feeling of holding a new bar of soap, its weight and volume....yeah

-Palmer's Cocoa Butter lotion: i tried other lotions this year but i have to keep coming back to this one, it's so nourishing, easy to find, and always smells divine!

-Kose Softymo Speedy Cleansing Oil: it's so popular for a good reason

-Supermilk conditioning spray from Lush: your hair will smell sooo good

-gourmand scented incense: don't be scared of stronger scents, because the smell will linger in your place even the day after you've burned these...in my house it always does!

-domestic sewing machine: i finally got one this year and it's so comforting to be able to work on clothing at home as well! Plus a good skill to hone especially since my prediction senses tell me homemade clothing will be big soon enough, after we all get sick of fast fashion/trend cycles/insane vintage resell market/clothing fitting poorly etc

[jjkamochoso]

The Perfect Fit

Story Overview: Levi Ackerman begrudgingly finds himself falling in love with the Survey Corps’ seamstress. Will they be able to own up to their feelings for each other? Or is their love doomed to fail before they discover the truths of each other’s hearts? This slow burn reader insert story will be filled with angst, yearning, and a bit of mystery as we slowly unravel the truths behind Y/N’s past… and explore her and Levi’s future!

Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2 linked here

Chapter 4 linked here

Levi Ackerman x female reader

Warnings: cussing, minor character death (not graphic)

As the hours rolled by with nobody from the surrounding villages showing up to their appointments with you, you started to get stressed out. Were they all a bunch of no shows on purpose? Your prices weren’t extravagant but you knew times were tough on everyone, especially after the breach of Wall Maria. Citizens of Wall Rose were fighting for their fair share of resources and jobs while refugees tried their best to not starve on the streets. It was a constant battle for food and wages for anyone outside Wall Sina and you hated to see people fighting amongst themselves when a much larger threat loomed right outside the failing walls. With nothing else to do, you took the time to look over Captain Levi’s torn cape and decide how you were going to mend it. Why did he do that in the first place? Was he taking pity on you? You didn’t mean to tell him all your financial woes, they just slipped out in the heat of the moment. Maybe he just wanted to test your skills with the sewing machine he got you? Yes, that had to be it. You had given the machine a trial run earlier and now you felt confident enough to use it on commissioned pieces. Taking in a deep breath to steady yourself in the midst of the most important project of your life, you got to work.

You sewed tirelessly throughout the afternoon and evening, barely stopping for breaks. You needed to be sure this cape was done before you took your horse into the village tomorrow to see a veterinarian. Speaking of your horse, you heard her let out a long, high pitched whinny. You quickly pushed your chair away from the table and hurried outside. She looked even sicker than she did this morning—an extremely bad sign. She could barely stand, wobbling in her pasture. There was no way she could make the journey into the village, you’d have to run there and ask for an emergency veterinarian house call. You began to cuddle up to her, whispering sweet nothings to her to calm her down, and you could tell she was becoming more and more content. Placing a long, sweet kiss to her snout, you reluctantly pulled away.

“Hold on for me, sweetheart. I’m going to get you some help. Just hang in there. Please.”

Your horse just looked at you and you prayed to whatever higher being might hear you that she understood your intentions. You ran back inside to grab a lantern and jacket for the run through the chilly night air. Taking one last look at your horse, you ran as fast as your legs could take you to the village with the vet.

You were sure that when you came running into the village you looked like a complete madwoman, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that you needed to get to the vet’s house as fast as humanly possible. When you saw his house, the front lantern thankfully still lit, you ran up to the door and pounded on it.

“Dr. Becker! Dr. Becker! Please, it’s an emergency! My horse is sick. I need your help, please!”

There was no answer. Your fists collided with the door mercilessly until finally there was movement behind the creaking wood.

“Don’t you realize how late it is, girl?” the older doctor asked, opening the door. He had a disgruntled look on his face that only slightly softened when he noticed how desperate and close to tears you were.

“Please, Dr. Becker, my horse is sick. She can barely stand, won’t eat, and she’s been coughing. I’m begging you, please do an emergency house call right now for her. I don’t know where else to go.”

He sighed, rubbing his hand on his face. “I’m off duty right now, you know.”

“I know. I have money,” you said, pulling out a pouch of coins and letting him inspect them to prove their authenticity. He let out a “hmmph!” and collected his medical bag.

“Come, child. Show me the way.”

When your house came into view, it took all you had to not climb out of the cart you were riding in to run and greet your beloved companion. As Dr. Becker parked his horses, you ran over to your own. She was lying down, completely still.

“No, no, no!” you exclaimed tearfully, your hand in front of her snout to check for breathing. There was none. Dr. Becker made his way over to you, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll check to make sure she’s truly gone before I leave.”

As he got on the ground to check her pulse, your mind was reeling. What were you going to do? You barely had enough money to cover the vet visit, there was no way you could afford a whole new horse! And what about your own house calls? You used to ride your horse into the village once a month to help out your elderly customers who couldn’t make the journey to your workshop. The kind veterinarian caught your eye and shook his head.

“I’m sorry. She’s dead.”

You were too numb to cry. In a daze, you handed the doctor your pouch of coins to cover the inconvenience of coming all this way, but he would only accept a third of the full payment.

“You need the money more than I do,” he explained, eyeing your deceased horse and ramshackle house. When he said goodbye and left, you realized you truly were alone. You didn’t know what to do with your horse’s body. It was going to be another hot day tomorrow and you didn’t want her to rot in the sun. It was too late at night to do anything about it, though, so you covered her with a sheet and went to bed.

The next morning was extremely difficult for you. You had to drag your body out of bed, the stresses of last night weighing you down. After you nibbled on a small breakfast, you heard a cart coming down your dirt path.

“Dr. Becker said there was a deceased animal here to dispose of?” one of the men had asked you when you walked outside. You confirmed, pointing the team to white sheet in the pasture. They loaded her onto the cart and you whispered a final farewell to your best friend and most faithful companion. Going back inside, you looked around you, gauging what work still needed to be done. You spied Levi’s cape in the same spot you discarded it hours prior. You knew that had to be finished first since he was coming to pick it up later today. You tried to drown yourself in the work but it didn’t distract you enough. When your tears landed on his cape, it took everything inside you not to scream out in frustration. You went to the bathroom to splash water on your face, hoping it would ground you. Instead, you just took notice of your unkempt appearance. Your life had gone from normal to shambles in a matter of hours and you were at a loss of what to do. It was difficult times like these that made you wonder if you made a mistake leaving Wall Sina…

No.

You couldn’t afford to dwell on things you can’t change. You could only look forward and that’s exactly what you were going to do. Getting ahold of yourself, you reminded yourself that Captain Levi entrusted you with his cape, meaning your career, at least, wasn’t in shambles. You had a great skill set that was near impossible to replicate so at least you had that going for you. You got back to work, still worried about your future but less distraught.

Another work day over, you awaited Levi’s arrival at your door for the pick up of his belonging. When the clock struck 5pm, you expected to hear him knocking at your door, but there was nothing. You didn’t know much about the man, but you knew he was always on time. You furrowed your brows when it turned to 5:10 and there was no sign of him. Was he going to stand you up like everyone else today?

BAM BAM BAM

Whoever was at your door, it certainly wasn’t the captain. You heard bickering on the other side of the door.

“Eren! You can’t pound on a door like that, especially if it’s a lady’s house!”

“Shut up, Armin. We’re in a hurry. I don’t need Captain Levi being any madder at us for being late than he already is.”

You opened the door to reveal a trio of teens.

“Ms. L/n! We’re here to pick up Captain Levi’s cape,” Armin said, a sweet smile on his face. You were well acquainted with these kids, mostly because they were always running into battle and ending up with torn uniforms (especially Eren—what on earth could he be doing to always end up with shredded shirts?).

“I’ll get that for you right away. Please, come in.”

The kids walked into your place, seemingly scrutinizing it.

“Yes, I know it’s dirty and falling apart. Your captain already lectured me on it.”

“That’s no surprise. He’s always in a bad mood,” Eren grumbled. You gave Armin the cape and Mikasa handed you the money. It was a large sum but you couldn’t even find it within your heart to be excited.

“Thanks you guys. Want any treats while you’re here?”

Their eyes lit up. Even Mikasa seemed to have a happier expression on her face as you handed them each a small piece of pastry you had made a few days prior. As they snacked, you noticed Mikasa eyeing your embroidery hoop.

“I do embroidery too. Anything you want, I’ll do it. Personal clothes or inside of uniforms. Names, symbols, whatever. Since you kids are almost single-handedly keeping me in business with all the clothes of yours I fix, the first few personalizations are on the house.”

Mikasa looked lost in thought, like she was remembering a long lost memory or something. All of a sudden, her face turned back to her near emotionless state. The three of them gave you their thanks and were ready to leave when Armin spoke up once more.

“Ms. L/n? Where’s your horse, I brought her a small apple slice. I know how much she loves them.”

You really didn’t want to cry in front of the kids over something so silly but you were close to breaking down.

“She died last night,” you explained, letting out a shaky breath. “She was sick for a short period and died in the 20 minutes I left to get the veterinarian.”

The blonde, upon hearing the news, gave you a big hug. “I’m so sorry, I knew how much you loved her. We all did.”

“What are you going to do now? Get a new one?” questioned Eren.

“I’m not sure yet, but that’s not for you kids to worry about. Now head back before Captain Grumpy finds out you’ve been messing around here too long.” When the kids and their horses were out of view, you let out another long sigh. What were you going to do?

Levi had been swarmed with meetings, swarmed with paperwork, swarmed with people bothering the shit out of him. He was in a worse mood than usual and anybody who got in his way felt his wrath. He felt bad for snapping at people, but his head just hadn’t been in the right place the past few days. Ever since his run ins with the seamstress, she hadn’t left his mind. She was strange to him, too happy go lucky for her own good. She was careless; who walks through forests without a horse these days? She was too kind for her own good. He was also jealous of the way y/n’s job was ridiculously ordinary. Being a seamstress in these times sounded woefully mediocre compared to fighting titans. It was, admittedly, still an important job. He gave her shit for showing preference to Hange’s uniforms, but if he was telling the truth, he would’ve never noticed that she wasn’t using a sewing machine. Her work was neat, precise—traits Levi could appreciate. The thing about y/n that bothered Levi the most was how damn pretty she was. Sure, he’d been attracted to a few women here and there, but they all paled in comparison. There was something about her that was magnetic, pulling Levi in, causing him to want to know more about her. This thought made him want to puke. He couldn’t get attached to any more people, he couldn’t afford to. Levi’s heart had been smashed into too many pieces by now, too many deaths he’d had to face of people he loved. His head was in the right place, trying to convince him to ignore her and focus on his duty as a soldier, but he found himself listening to his heart more and more. Finding that sewing machine for you was a pain in the ass since they were extremely hard to find, especially in working order. He had pulled some strings to get information, eventually buying one off a villager who’d “acquired” it in the interior. Then, him taking you home was something he’d never thought he would do for some stranger, especially letting you hold him in such a way that made his breath catch in his throat and his hands go clammy. The final nail in the coffin was when his fingers disobeyed any notion of common sense, ripping the biggest hole he could manage in his cape for you to fix so you could make some more money. It was no secret he had a soft spot for animals, but there was no reason he should’ve felt as bad for you and your horse as he did. Also, your house was a total wreck and he wanted to scream at Erwin for allowing you to reside there. When he thought back about his actions, he grimaced. You were just some girl he met a few days ago. How were you making such an impact in his life already? That’s why he made Eren and his friends pick up his cape. He needed to avoid you for as long as possible, needing a clear head and heart to save humanity, not pine over a random woman. He looked over the freshly fixed cape, admiring your handiwork. He could barely make out where you had sewed it back together. Your talent was a sight to behold and he was glad his intuition was right to put his trust in you. He placed the soft cloth into a drawer to wear another time and decided he needed some tea to clear his head. When he reached the cafeteria, he overheard the trio talking about you.

“That’s so sad about Ms. L/n’s horse. I wonder how she’s going to keep working without her,” Armin had said. Levi’s eyes widened slightly. Did your horse die that quickly? That would be bad news for you, personally, and him, professionally. He and the Scouts relied on you to come in half the week to do your work in the castle. There was no way you would be walking here and back, Levi would never allow you to put yourself in danger like that. He pretended not to listen, warming water in a kettle.

“I know. I feel bad for her, but there’s no way we can use the resources to keep traveling back and forth every time we need something fixed. It would be easier if she lived here.”

“Maybe if y/n lives here, you won’t have to do uncharacteristically nice things to spend time with her.”

Levi jumped at the sound of Hange’s voice unexpectedly in his ear. “Fuck off, four eyes. You almost made me spill my tea.”

Hange just laughed while Levi rolled his eyes. He hated to admit it, but Eren and Hange both had a point. If you worked for the Survey Corps, why wouldn’t you live with them? There was plenty of room here, it wasn’t like the place was overflowing with soldiers. He took his tea to go, finding solace in the quiet of his room. If Hange and the other soldiers wanted you to live here, fine. He just didn’t want to get involved with anything surrounding you. What did he care what you did, where you lived, what you spent your time doing? And where did Hange get the idea he wanted to spend time with you? Your meetings had been coincidental and ones of convenience. Whether or not you moved in with the Scouts, it would be of no matter to Levi. Like he thought before, he didn’t need another person to care about—you would die prematurely and leave him all alone, just like everyone else did.

Chapter 4

[thescribeoflostmemories]

Random oneshots Fatui Harbingers

4k word count

Fatui Harbingers x gn!reader

(Yes all, but in separate forms) (unedited) (reader is an adult)

No yandere well uh… Dottore and Signora's questionable, but other than that it's all just fluff!

Various readers like;

cook! Reader, secretary! Reader, dancer! Reader, ect.

Spoilers for Scaramouche's part (hints at his origins)

Platonic or at least I tried to make it like that. And yes, these are heavily inspired by other media. (ps. I did this instead of studying for my economics class. RIP my grades, bes)

T: swear words, implied relationship (Capitano)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Childe x Toymaker! Reader

“What do you mean you broke it?!”

Your patience is wearing thin as it is the nth time this year that the strange Snezhnayan man had ordered from your little shop. You’re a bit peeved that he kept breaking the toys as if it weren’t any big deal, you’ve poured your heart and soul into this damn it! Eying the piece of cloth in hand and a needle in the other. Was all your work just a waste?

The ginger haired scratches his head. “ Look I’m sorry, doll. But can you atleast cut me some slack? I’ll quadruple the pay for the next one!” He clasps his hands together, hoping you’ll say yes.

“Childe, I’m a person. Not some machine.”Sighing as the incense that’s supposed to make you feel calm fails to do its purpose.

“I know that! Just please, just this once. My little brother is expecting a gift.. PLEASE!” He sat next to you while you just kept sewing.

“If my craft is too flimsy for you, go find someone else then!” Feels like he just stomped over your heart.

They were like your children, and he knows it. Tears pricked, threatening to fall. Each toy made by you was given names, you even remembered who you sold it to. One of the reasons why you sold some to Childe is because of his close ties to another frequent customer.

“I can’t, because I love what you made for them.” That made you stop with your stitching. Right now he's next to you, head on the wooden floor in a child's pose.

"Childe… "That earned a sigh from you. "On one condition… " a wave of relief washed over him. " A week from now, I need you to do something for me."

And that's how Childe had skipped a few work days at the Northland Bank to get a very specific plant. A flower that blooms in a very perilous location.

Meanwhile, you were actually trying to make a very indestructible toy fit for Childe's brother. The wind chimes sang a song before going silent.

When he came back the toy was nearly complete. It looks so odd yet wonderous to look at, a rifthound mannequin. It even looked real given the size of it.

You were nowhere to be seen, but a letter on your usual spot. With the words to greet him, telling him that it's nearly done. All he needs is to apply the paint to the mannequin.

Not wanting to talk to him about the pay, but the smile on his face is well enough of a reward.

Childe couldn't thank you enough for making Teucer happy. Happiness is better shared with close friends and comrades.

"You're the best Toy Maker I've ever known… "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pantalone x Cook! Reader

"You're always welcomed here."

The Regrator has been sneaking out without his personal guards as of late. He misses the old, shabby, shack that would give him meals whenever he asked back then. Until now the money would pale in comparison to what your family owned diner has done for him. People would chastise for eating something so below his class, though. Even he couldn’t resist the urge to eat a meal made with love and nostalgia.

Before he was given some food, clothes and what could be spared for him before. And now he's tempted to buy out the shop to constantly give cash flow for your family, though it was denied by your father. Saying his sincere thanks and to visit whenever he can, casual talk sometimes is sufficient. Out of respect, he backed off, stating that his offer is still available and that all they need to do is tell him.

Pantalone often wondered if he should propose a job offer to one shop owner's children. That way, he could at least help out. Or another plan is to have your hand, the second oldest for marriage, he didn't mind the scandalous thought of other people for marrying a pauper. In fact he revels in it while showering you (and the family) with expensive gifts that feels like loose change to him. The fruits of his labor along with your family's support.

Ah, but he must be patient.. he must wait for the moment then strike… for now.

"The usual, please." He said as he sat down on the creaky chair.

"Mister Pantalone!” Your head peeked from the small window, that smile that shines brighter than the sun reflecting from the pure white snow. “Welcome, it'll be up in a few moments. I'm nearly finished! " Your voice rang out from the thin wood partition. The scent of something so warm, enticing him to stay longer than he should.

" Take your time, darling."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arlecchino x flirty! Reader

“Waltz for the moon, darling”

The Tsaritsa is a humble Archon, and annually she holds a gathering. ‘For what?’ you may ask, Arlecchino isn’t sure of the reason. Something, something of a mythos that sprouted long ago that ties in with the benevolent Frost protector.

The night was long. Columbina didn’t seem to stray away from the piano. The first Harbinger had fled to the balcony. The unhinged Doctor talking to the Regrator for more funds for the latest research. Sandrone minding her own business like the silent but ominous dark guardian at the corner of the room.

A star rained down when the odd eyed woman looked up and managed to catch the sight of you. Cheekily, you smiled at her before walking over. “Greetings Lord Harbinger Arlecchino.” Bowing to her, the smile never left your face. It somewhat disgusts her.

The Knave didn’t know what happened, it was like some kind of spell that was placed upon her. All she knew was having a casual talk then suddenly being dragged to the dance floor with you as the lead. It was humiliating that you both bumped into someone. It was a very rough start, stepping on each other’s feet. Everytime Arlecchino leaves, you bring her back to the dance floor. She didn’t think there’ll be anyone bold enough to do something like this without any ulterior motive.

Though soon enough, both of you were dancing in sync. No words were exchanged that night. Just twirls and before they knew it, Arlecchino got separated from you letting another person occupy her place.

Normally she’d scold you, but in a time and place like this. That has to wait, now even Columbina wants to dance with her.

“Maybe, a little dance here and there would be nice.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Columbina x Nomad(like)! Reader

"Juxtaposition is not quite strange, that's for sure"

The Lady had found your performance unique ever since you arrived at Snezhnaya. So resilient to the harsh cold while having such … indecent clothing that you kept on dancing with your traveling friends that played their expertise in music.

As a matter of fact, you pulled her from the side and let her dance with you among the other civilians. Praising her how well she danced to life's music.

The cheeriness isn't what made you intriguing, but the ominous music that rang in the dead of night. Your voice sang dark and fiery whispers of hollowed promises, followed by cackling laughter from your piss drunk friends.

She had come back, after you accidentally forgot one of your belongings to her. She never felt this excited for a new yet familiar face of a friend.

'Dance and die, and live forever!' the darker side of yours sparked within her. From then on, she couldn't help but watch from the sidelines watching your every move.

Like she's seeing a ritual happening before her eyes. Your gentle and loving look now replaced with passionate and fearsome sword dance, in hand is an ornamental sword, moving swift and clean could end a life of a helpless thing.

It later on became a piqued interest, most Harbingers would frown upon her odd fixation to the visiting troupe.

It didn't go unnoticed. However, your group had already left before she could ask you any questions about your kin.

Whenever she's alone, she would try to mimic your moves that night. It felt so wrong yet so good, the flair influences her battle style. Not that anyone would have known other than Arlecchino and Pierro.

She'll hum that haunting tune you sang that a few others seem to like. The gory song that contextualizes a fall of a kingdom. Though what they didn't know is that it's from another person who made the lyrics, shocking to most since she sings almost lullaby-like melodies. Hoping to one day meet you and your troupe.

"Shadows dream of endless fire// flames devour and embers swooped//"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sandrone x Servant! Robo! Reader

"To my every beck and call"

You were one of her latest models in her line of research. The pinnacle of all her work, yet has been reduced to such mundane tasks for your Master puppeteer.

Serving her drinks, fetching her clothes, bathe her (or with her), do her hair… well you get it, though it all depends on her mood that day. You have nearly every function a person needs, from herbal knowledge to basically everything under the sun.

No doubt, you are a successful innovation from the rest of Foutaine and the regular machinery.

"My lady, Harbinger Sandrone… Your tea is getting cold." Your voice reminded your mistress of her long forgotten tea.

"Leave it.. come here. I need something of you… "

If it isn't a domestic task, she'll probably ask you to hunt something for her. It's a little objective to see how long you could last out in the cold winters. Didn't last too long since you kept waking up on her workbench. Sandrone told you, you were still in the making and needed to be fixed as long there's errors with you.

Whispers from various Fatui agents can be heard surrounding your mistress, rumors of you going to be replaced by a newer model. It stunted your performance once you heard it, afterall it was inevitable given that your mistress might discard you and make a brand new one; stronger, faster, a better you.

She'd shush your worries by making you feel more welcomed, participating in her testing in various research. If she were a slightly different master then you aren't sure what would happen. Either way, you love your mistress from the very bottom of your robotic heart. Didn't even care how degrading the task is. That's how deep your devotion goes.

"Snowball, I need your help again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Capitano x reader

" On par of a warrior's blood"

Capitano may not have enough time for you, but he does appreciate you trying to do these little things for him. Like bringing him some beverages, snacks between his training sessions. Especially when you tried so hard to make it for him, he won't decline it.

Little cuddles under his coat, it delights him. Even though he does not show it, low hums would be enough to tell that he likes you having close to him.

What gets him going is you snuggling with him in bed, mumbling about how big and strong he is. A way to stroke his ego, especially with a cute little lamb like you to protect.

"What snacks do you want for tomorrow? Oranges in chocolate? Cookies? Or maybe.. me?" You tried to tease him, though not getting a reaction from him, at least not from the outside.

Within the safety of his helmet lies a very embarrassed man. "As long as you made it, I don't mind.."

That made you pout at him." But that's what you've said last time.. " pressing up against him a bit more.

" I need to know what you think.. don't worry, I can wait. " Trying to assure him.

" I hope you'll still be patient as time marches on then.. " He combed his gloves fingers in your hair, slightly tugging it.

"I will… hope you'll do the same for me." Not even the flames of Natlan could match the warmth of their hugs.

Capitano really likes to be close to you, but with the work on his shoulders and guiding the military. He has a hard time juggling the fickle schedule he has.

"I have some spare time tomorrow. Do you know how to play chess?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pierro x Massage therapist! Reader

"Welcome, how may I serve you?"

When he first heard about you, it was in the guise of a suggestion. The Regrator himself that sings your praises for your hands that could melt stress away. There are others who call you the mage with Solar gauntlet with how warm your hands are.

He was skeptical since the rich man deemed it 'necessary' for the old man like him to 'take a chill pill' for once. Ignoring their advice until Pantalone had to set up an appointment for the Jester with the help of Pulcinella to lure the poor fool into the spa.

You remembered the first time he entered the humble establishment in Snezhnaya.

Face all scrunched up and wanted to leave, yet his subordinates stopped him from going. And there's you with a few other of your co-workers.

Pierro, of course, is placed in your care. Much to Pantalone's distaste, since he is your number one customer. He's a bit picky when it comes to self-care.

The battle scarred and hardened body seemed to melt under your touch as he began to unwind himself. Seeing that satisfied smile, big hands grip on to the table and eye fluttering shut could melt your heart.

"Sir, please relax. This is a safe place."

After that encounter with the first Harbinger's relaxation. Pantalone finds you, his favorite employee booked by someone else who isn't him and you aren't allowed to share the client's details with him. As much as it irked him, he can't go get himself blacklisted.

You kinda like this new customer. Sure, he doesn't talk as much but he does have a cute sleepy face. Only you could see the vulnerable side of the Jester and live. Knowingly he comes here often to relieve stress in his words;

"Another appointment, sir?"

"Yes, though my subordinates kept insisting I should come here even without them."

You just smiled at him and processed the unearned income.

"It shall be done, sir. Thank you again for choosing us." You bowed

…

"Sir, you seemed to be tense. Please, relax and let me do the work."

"Mm… a little bit more on the right…"

"Of course, Sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dottore x Reader

" You're the best doctor I've ever had!"

You aren't sure if the one with you right now is the doctor himself but, both of you right now are together in a meeting room. His head on your lap while proofreading his latest thesis statement before going to the next one. It was one of the few times where he doesn't even want to work with the others, like the clones or Harbingers.

The younger versions would be such little gremlins and practically begged you to spend some time with them since they're so tired of everyone's BS and the Scientific investigation projects were practically endless for the little clones. They'll often drag your sorry little ass to the couch and cuddle with you.

While the older versions would just lead you to the couch with a hug from the back if you two were alone. It would be troublesome if someone were to see him in this state, especially Pantalone.

Promising you a little rest time for working so hard under the Tsaritsa's rule and 'acting' as your 'friend' just to get that same treatment as the clone who started the mess.

He never felt so placid before, he'd often request you as often as possible. Though you do notice the glaring difference between the younger and older versions of himself. But the battle that happened behind the scenes is… less than mature, the walls and ceilings of his lab were baptized in blood, it's unclear whether or not it's from the clones stabbing each other or them tossing their patients' innards at one another. (Kinda like a snowball/food fight if you think about it/ want to ignore all the blood and gore.) All for the few hours of calmness and the sound of you singing in their ear, just for them.

The Prime Dottore got pissed once the most reliable clone told him that he has to ship his ass back to Snezhnaya to quell the fight. So of course he has this rotational schedule for all of them, including himself to see what all the fuss is about. (The younger ones booed since they're in the latter part of the rotation)

Bonus: if you're lucky enough, maybe one of the clones or Dottore would probably sing something in french while you just comb his hair, humming along. If it's a clone, most likely wants to have a special memory with you alone before his decommissioning, so sweet yet so bitter. Him singing a soft tune that he made up for you while he waits for his turn. Your hands give him some care, like combing with a brush or cleaning his ears.

"C'est ça, l'Amour, Le grand Amour L'Amour qui fait chanter la vie."

"Doc, since when have you brushed your hair?" Or " Zan, Zan, don't sleep with your mask on… "

“Am I the Doctor here or you are?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scara x Poet! Reader

" Too bad no fools allowed! "

Listening to you telling stories has always been his favorite pastime whenever he's alone.

Money is usually a problem for you, though it's fine the passion you hold in your profession burns brighter than any vision holder. Still, no vision to be seen. Perhaps there is no need of a vision to embody the dedication, or the Gods deemed you unworthy to hold it. Nevertheless, you seemed a lot happier even without it.

This time you were in Liyue, telling stories of forgotten myths and legends that transpired so far away into the past.

"I don't want to die… " A weak cry left your voice, a tear escaped from your eye. Scaramouche felt a ting from his chest, when your hand outstretched for Celestia above.

"The maiden's love didn't rely on selfish reasoning, nor did she ask for something in return, doing everything in her power to protect her beloved… and what could never be her's. A denied privilege that haunts her very core! "

'What a fool', is what the tossed puppet would want to say. He had a similar experience with the saga's protagonist.

"With a cup of blood in hand, our knight in shining armor excelled in all expectations. And yet… " you spun around a bit, facing the audience, with a hand next to your lips as if to whisper to your ghostly partner that is the chivalrous protagonist.

" ' You're not my sister! They laughed, You're not my daughter! He scorned, you're not perfect! They screeched.' Indeed she wasn't. Playing pretend became the latest trend, as bit by bit she clung to the hollowed promise that somehow… someday… Within the gaping pits of dirt and sea, she will find salvation!"

That's what Scaramouche wanted to believe, a sliver of chance to happiness…

It's only a little fantasy of his, but he will find his own redemption soon even if he has to stare at the face of the abyss itself until it blinks.

" 'No cost too great.' " Finally something he, and your character agree on. The road to hell is a treacherous one, but Scaramouche had a few things over your character: his bravery in the facade of madness, is one of them.

"Psh, give this to that wretched troubadour just to shut that mouth for this week. Their style is shit, even I could do better."

Even he wouldn't want to admit the love he has for your style of legends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulcinella x Secretary! Reader (platonic)

"With all due respect, I'm just an assistant. Not a child."

Being Mayor, it gets pretty lonely sometimes. But that's why you're here, his secretary! The job description didn't actually include hanging out with him out of work. But here you are, almost acting like the mature child in his family who thinks that everything needs to be taken seriously.

"Mayor, you have an appointment later at three this afternoon."

" Hohoho, to rush things could only worsen things, Little one."

Or

" Sir, it's not professional of me to accept this gift."

"Nonsense! You've been with me for the last, how many years? And I still have to thank you for your unyielding patience. "

Or even…

" Sir… Sir… S I R, this is no time to pick out children's toys for Lord Harbinger Tartaglia's siblings, we could do it after the meeting. Lord Harbinger Jester would be furious with us when we meet him again out of schedule."

" You worry too much, little one. With the hounds of Snezhnaya, we'll be there in a jiffy."

That's what he said last time, you both were late at the meeting.

Then there’s that one time,

“Mayor, what do you mean ‘we’ have to cancel all appointments for this afternoon? Oh no, no, no, no. Sir, I appreciate your concerns but my love life is my own business and not to be mingled with our work!”

“Oh but, Targtaglia is such a nice boy, just a little rough around the edges. This once, you won’t regret it.”

You fucking swear, that this Igor lookin ass rooster knows what buttons to press and would love to see you pull out your hair for you to keep your shit together. The only thing keeping you grounded is that he's your boss and a Harbinger, the highest socialite in Snezhnaya. The choke-hold he has, no matter how short he is compared to you.

Looking at your state right now, you're developing some strands of white hair from all the stress that comes with the job.

He hands you a cup of (preference) with a smile, "it's not so bad to unwind a bit. Drink up, you'll feel better."

You don’t want to admit as much as he did, but you do find these moments rather endearing after a certain point.

“See? Now, that wasn’t so bad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

La Signora x (?)Reader

"You only got three chances in life."

During one of her strolls, the pale lady finds herself quite the situation. You are in a bear trap, calf all bloodied and peirced.

Tear stained face looked up at Signora, not one word spoken but a weak whine..

She had freed you from your doom. what she had on her, sunken look, that heavy breathing, so pitiful.

A once malnourished person who had been running for days can see their face. She let you go, on your own to survive.

The next time she met you was at Mondstadt, tied to a tree this time. With her fanning herself using a lacy fan. Her lackies near her, unfortunately caught by them since you were nearby scavenging.

"What's a sweet little pooch like you doing here?

Your nose flared at her remark. On guard, with no weapons. Seeing no threat in her since she had released you from that trap.

"Cat caught your tongue?" The crimson witch walked near to examine you up close and personal. You were healthier than the last time.

"I see you're recovering well. That's good." Wordlessly she gestured to the agents to release you, for a little battle of dominance. You're no stranger to this dance as you circle around her, you may owe your life to this stranger. But it isn't worth it in a predicament like this.

La Signora huffs and when to use her whip to put some fear into you, only have you caught that salt soaked tassel of leather from reaching you. Mistakes were made that she swore to not make another one after you were recaptured.

This time instead of flimsy ropes. You were chained to her like a dog, always growling and snarling at her similarly to a rift hound. Yet never would harm her.

Mouth caged so you wouldn't even dare to bite her.

"What a pooch." Signora mumbled under her breath. Not once did you talk, she had assumed you were unknowledgeable by any means.

That falls in her next mistake, showing some mercy with you. She once had given you pails of water to quench your thirst without the mouth restraint. Didn't even fight back, she had presumed you were in dire need of intake. That soon followed meals… then less restraints. Until her mind swayed, you're harmless to her.

When a sudden attack happened during her stay in a certain nation. A planned assassination got put into action, it would have been successful if it weren't for you taking the hit in her stead.

The image of you writhing in pain from the electro damage stung, similar to being fried from the inside. She thought you were a fool for helping her stay alive. Nonetheless, the assassin was dealt with. You? Well be worried about that later.

"... Haha… Am I in celestia or is the moon closer than I realized?" You tried to joke the moment you woke up, head on her lap. And it was the first time you made an actual sentence with her.

"You little brat, you gave me a scare there." Only a huff was heard from you.

" Good then… "

Her final mistake… well…

" Can't believe a pooch like you manage to worm your way here… "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, I'll definitely edit out heavily on Signora's part

[samimarkart]

Your quilted weaving is stunning! It reminds me of aerial photos of the Appalachian mountains. Could you talk a little more about your process and the materials?

yes! For my quilted weaving pieces I first start with a drawing or digital collage. I don’t have access to my own jacquard loom so I’ve been using the website https://www.wovns.com to get my drawings then turned into weavings. I normally will make my own fabric prints or designs from home but for more intricate compositions, weavings make more sense to me. the process from drawing to final quilt looked like this for the piece you mentioned:

First pass with the digital drawing before converting it to a weavable image within WOVNS color file options (I use procreate on my iPad for all my digital art)

Edited to weave

What the fabric looked like before quilting

Final piece after quilting and edge finishing!

This is a newer process for me and one that I’m still working out the problems that come with it. When I quilt the weavings I have to be extra careful of snagging threads from the weaving on my sewing machine foot, something that is easily avoided when I use my free motion foot but that is a problem with a quilting foot with an extra set of feed dogs. It’s fun though!

[roryvampire]

i got monster fest frankie!! and yes- i absolutely despised the pants fringe just as much if not more in person. so i was brave. heres pictures for anyone curious!!

theyre soooooo stunning. im in love w/ them. the pants were horrible (to me). i couldnt stand them (this is my opinion). cutting the tassels off was absolutely the right move, no doubt abt it. it was pretty easy too. i cut the long parts off first and carefully shaved down the excess. its a little more visible irl than in the pictures (still pretty invisible), but they kind of just look like a seam line. either way i think they came out great!! i like them a hell of a lot more now.

if i were braver and knew where my sewing machine was i might have just tore the seam and took out the whole piece entirely but im not braver and i dont know where my sewing machine is lol.

(i also think it would be rlly cute to cut the other leg short and use some of the excess to make cargo shorts. its the cargo shorts lover in me. i cant help it).

[yaderyngoch]

I made a comment a while ago about a JayTim Tailor AU, and then the brainworms wouldn't stop so now I've actually written it.

Disclaimer that I'm super new to the fandom so this is my first time writing for it, and I also written one little fanfic in the past 3 years for a different fandom so I am Rusty and they're probably very OOC lol.

--

Tailor’s shops, Tim had found, were rather soothing places. Quiet and smelling faintly of amber and cedar. His chosen shop was an octagonal room lined with built-in shelves and racks of suits and armoires of darkly stained mahogany. A table in the centre of the room housed a swatch book of different types of wool and lining silks that Tim liked to flip through just to feel the delicately woven fabrics.

On one side of the shop window, there was a mannequin dressed in a half-finished suit, one side left without the facing so onlookers could see the canvas and careful stitching that gave the suit its structure. On the other there was an old treadle sewing machine, though Tim doubted it was still functional. Nevertheless it helped add to the timeless sort of atmosphere of the shop, something that felt so far removed from all the computers and cold artificial displays Tim usually worked with.

He’d been coming to this tailor for a few years now. Bruce had recommended him, and Tim had been coming ever since. There was something calming about the familiarity. Coming in and greeting the salesman who recommended a few suits for him to try on, settling on one that he thought looked best before the salesperson called the tailor out to him. It was always the same tailor, an elderly man with small, quick hands and soft eyes by the name of Lucius Fox.

Tim waited for him now, dressed in a neat blue suit the salesperson had chosen off the rack for Tim. The shop did offer entirely bespoke suits, but Tim had always found that to be much more elaborate than he felt he needed. As long as he looked neat and presentable, it worked for him.

He flipped through that fabric swatch book, tracing fingertips along the pinked edges of soft blue wool and reading the sticker on the back of the previous swatch as though he had any idea what any of it meant. Camel hair, it said. Tim didn’t think the fur of a camel would be particularly soft or good for suitmaking but evidently he was wrong.

“Mr. Drake?” Called a voice from the door to the tailor’s workshop itself, a voice lower and smoother than Tim had been expecting.

Tim looked up to see a man walking towards him, tall and broad with a streak of white through dark hair, a ruler and chalk in one hand and a pincushion secured to the other wrist with a band of black elastic. He’d forgone the jacket of his three-piece suit, the sleeves of his dress shirt neatly rolled up to his elbows, a tape measure draped around his neck. The suit was fitted just enough to display a figure far sturdier than Tim would’ve expected for a tailor, just hints of a broad chest and arms that filled out the sleeves far better than most.

His face was just as chiselled, with sharp green eyes that seemed to shimmer with amusement, the corner of his mouth turning up just slightly.

It took Tim far too long to realise he’d been staring, and he quite quickly flicked his eyes back down to the book before him, feeling warmth rise on his cheeks. “Yes, that’s- uhm.” He cleared his throat. “That’s me.” He looked back up at the Tailor. “Sorry, I just was expecting someone… else.”

The Tailor smiled in something between understanding and amusement. “Yes, Mr. Fox is out for the week so he’s left me to handle the shop. I’ll be taking care of you today.” The blush rose higher on Tim’s cheeks, and if he didn’t know better he’d assume the Tailor was doing that on purpose, with that honeyed voice of his and those smoothly spoken words. “My name is Jason.”

“Tim,” he answered, picking at the band of his watch.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tim,” answered Jason, and Tim was almost irritated at how well such a simple and common name rolled off Jason’s tongue. Jason gestured towards the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror, a platform just a little bit above the ground that made fittings easier, evidently. “Stand up there and face the mirror,” said Jason, tone polite and professional despite the command.

Tim nodded, trying not to follow Jason’s order too quickly and trying even harder not to fidget. He’d gotten better at it over the years. At his first fitting, Mr. Fox had smacked him upside the head with a ruler and told him to sit still. Now though, he had a feeling he’d find it just as difficult to behave as he had back then.

Jason came to stand close behind Tim, and it was with another small amount of irritation that Tim noticed even atop the pedestal, Jason was still slightly taller than him. “Tell me a little more about how you like your suits to fit.” His voice was softer now that they stood closer together, a gentle sound rather close to Tim’s ear. Tim couldn’t tell if he could feel the body heat radiating off of Jason, or if it was his own body that was warming up.

“Well… I’m not really sure I have much of a preference. Mr. Fox just fixed whatever he thought looked bad.” Tim wasn’t particularly meticulous when it came to fashion.

Jason hummed in understanding, stepping back just slightly to sweep his eyes over Tim, analysing the way the suit fit him with a careful, sharp stare. “Well, Mr. Fox is very good at what he does, but between you and I? He's also ancient and tends to prefer older, boxier styles, which I don’t think particularly suit you.” Tim felt rather like a blank canvas, where Jason could see the vision of the finished piece and Tim couldn’t. “You have a much narrower waist than most of the men I see. I think you’d look far better in something that showed that off a little more.”

Tim tugged at the hem of the jacket, trying to see what it was that Jason saw, but as far as he was concerned a suit was a suit and as long as it fit he wasn’t sure the cut of it made much of a difference. It was something to wear to a formal event and want to take off as soon as he got home. As far as he knew, the one he had on already fit fairly well for the most part.

“Here, I’ll show you what I mean and you can see what you think,” Jason continued, stepping closer to Tim again, standing right behind him so that in the mirror he could see his own silhouette overshadowed by Jason’s. Jason stroked gentle fingers up Tim’s spine, a featherlight touch to smooth out the wrinkle at the base of his neck. Tim suppressed a shiver as Jason leaned in close to place a pin to mark where the extra fabric near the collar needed to be taken in.

“Generally, off the rack suits were designed to fit men with far worse posture than you,” Jason explained, moving on to pin the sides of the suit. He sounded… appreciative, nearly praising despite the aforementioned posture making more work for him.

Tim could definitely feel his body heat now, attention narrowed down to where he could feel the delicate brush of skilled fingers along his waist, sliding a pin through the fabric with ease and precision Tim wouldn’t have associated with larger, stronger hands, far less wrinkled than Mr. Fox.

Tim could feel the warmth of Jason’s breath, could see him leaning in close in the reflection of the mirror. Now that Jason wasn’t looking at Tim’s face, Tim couldn’t help but stare at Jason’s, at the piercing, intense gaze, careful and precise in his work. He was much younger than Tim assumed most tailors were, likely only a few years older than Tim himself.

Jason moved to the other side, momentarily placing a hand on Tim’s waist to pull away the fabric needed. Tim wondered what he was thinking, so focused and diligent, fingers so much more skilled than Tim would’ve expected. It was an art, really, and there was beauty in simply watching the way Jason worked, in feeling each gentle brush of fingertips along the fabric, light and delicate and telling of so much skill in those hands. Some part within Tim desperately wanted to ask for more, for a taste of what those feathery sweeping touches promised.

“How does that feel?” Tim snapped his eyes away from Jason’s face and back to his own reflection, reminded quite quickly that Jason was a professional only doing his job and Tim desperately needed to get it together. Jason was reminding Tim that he desperately needed a few things.

“Uh… what?” Tim asked, feeling suddenly rather silly and realising he hadn’t been paying any attention at all to any of the things he was supposed to be paying attention to.

Fortunately, instead of the irritation Tim had been expecting, Jason simply laughed, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “The suit. Does it feel too tight? Too loose?” Oh- right. That was why Tim was here.

He looked at his silhouette in the mirror again, this time actually looking at himself instead of at Jason, and found he quite immediately knew what Jason had been talking about before. More than just fitting him better, Tim felt like he looked more… like himself. Not someone putting on a costume to go play the character of some high-society heir. He looked… really good, and good in a way he hadn’t expected to see in himself.

“Well?” Jason asked, smirk tugging at his lips again. “You seem quite easy to leave speechless, but I would appreciate at least some feedback.”

“Oh- sorry. It feels good. Thank you,” Tim answered, looking back at Jason in time to see his satisfied smile.

“Good,” said Jason, stepping closer again. “Now for the sleeves, I think they’re a little long for you, hmm?”

Tim nodded, knowing at least that much needed to be fixed. The hem of the sleeve was barely above his knuckles. Jason leaned in, left shoulder brushing Tim’s right as he slid one hand past Tim’s hip, one hand on either side of Tim’s.

Tim’s breath hitched, trying to calm the way his heart raced at their proximity. He knew this was part of the fitting, that this was the easiest way for a tailor to roll up his sleeve. Mr. Fox had done it too, but when Jason touched him, it was… different. No- Jason was just doing his job. He was a professional, Tim shouldn’t be thinking these things.

Jason’s index finger brushed Tim’s palm as he started to roll the sleeve up, tucking the excess fabric inward so it looked more like what the finished product might be. He slid two fingers beneath the sleeve to help smooth out the folded edge, the backs of them brushing along the sensitive skin of Tim’s wrist. Tim would be surprised if Jason couldn’t feel his racing heartbeat like this, but if he did, he didn’t say anything of it, simply curling his fingers and bringing them down slightly to bring the sleeve down just a little.

“How’s that?” Jason asked, voice hardly above a whisper now that he was practically speaking in Tim’s ear, their faces only a few inches apart. He slid his fingers out of the sleeve, pulling away again so Tim could examine the length for himself.

“Yeah,” Tim answered breathlessly. “Yeah, I like that.” He realised now that Jason had pulled away, he very nearly felt cold. But at least the distance gave Tim room to catch his breath and chase away those creeping thoughts.

Then, Jason stepped in front of Tim, between him and the mirror, and Tim’s heart stuttered in his chest. Tim had nearly forgotten about how Tailors marked the second sleeve, and he was swiftly reminded when Jason dropped to his knees in front of him.

Tim immediately held his breath, staring directly forward and absolutely refusing to look down.

“You know, I can’t do this if you don’t relax,” Jason teased. It was then that Tim realised he’d balled his hands into fists, and then that he knew that Jason definitely knew what he was doing. He released the breath he’d been holding, unclenching his fists and relaxing his arms at his sides.

Jason hummed in satisfaction, and Tim felt that gentle brush of warm fingers against his own as Jason held the ruler up to measure the new length of the sleeve from the tip of his thumb, sliding a pin into place before repeating the process with the other sleeve. Tim was trying not to tremble, trying to ignore what he could see of Jason in his peripheral vision, trying not to wonder what it might be like if he used that tape measure for something other than its intended purpose.

Finally, Jason stood again, face so close to Tim’s that Tim could make out the different shades of green and blue in his eyes.

“Wonderful,” he said. “Now, if you’d please remove the jacket, it’s time to mark the pants.”

Tim was going to die in this tailor’s shop.

[cubicle-eyes]

A Little Longer

Hunter Noceda x M!Reader

Anon asked ...

"just read your latest hunter piece and it is so cute!! touch is my love language and i loved how you wrote it in that fic, and was wondering if you could write more with reader giving hunter lots of physical affection?? ^w^ like playing with his hair, scratching his back, massaging his shoulders, rubbing his back until he falls asleep...just generally pampering him after he's had a tiring day :) this boy deserves all the love <3"

On it!~

Song while writing:

[ Set somewhere in Thanks to Them, before Halloween ]

---

"Hunter? You still sewing?"

Y/N stuck his head over the banister of the basement stairs, looking over at his boyfriend as he kept sewing patches into the jacket. He glanced up, then went back to pushing the jacket under the needle.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"Nothing," Y/N hummed, coming all the way down the stairs and pulling an extra chair up in front of the desk with the sewing machine- careful to avoid the jacket as it flowed over the edge. He smiled as Hunter stuck the tip of his tongue out in concentration.

"You having fun there?"

Hunter flushed, pausing the machine. He glared at Y/N, pursing his lips.

"Yes I am, actually."

Y/N scoffed playfully, standing and moving behind Hunter. Hunter sat up in his seat and his back audibly cracked as he stretched. Y/N blinked at the noise.

"Have you been sitting all hunched over like that since dinner?" He took Hunter's hands before they could drop to his sides, holding them out to the side to make sure Hunter paid attention to him. The blonde huffed, grinning sheepishly as he leaned his head back, the crown of his head hitting Y/N's stomach. He didn't try and hide the way he nuzzled back to feel more of Y/N against him.

"Yeah. I was focused!"

"You're gonna hurt your back worse than that time at the Knee. When you-"

"When I crashed into the tree on Flapjack, yeah, I remeber." He shook his head, trying to pry himself from his boyfriends hands so he could go back to working. Flapjack chirped, as if to acknowledge the story. He seemed to be laughing.

"Take a break. You can go right back after a minute."

Hunter looked unconvinced, and Y/N let his hands go. When he leaned back over, smirking, he winced. Y/N clicked his tongue.

"Oh, does your back hurt? Like I just said?"

"Alright, alright. What else should I do?"

Hunter stood up, sounding snappy but grinning fondly as he crossed his arms, feigning sass. Y/N rolled his eyes pushing Hunter's forehead affectionately.

"Alright, smartass. Sit down, on your sleeper."

"It's a sleeping bag."

"Same thing!" Y/N laughed. Hunter sat down, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap. Y/N sat down behind him, hugging him from behind and pulling him closer to fill in the space between them. Hunter giggled, leaning his head back to Y/N's shoulder. The slightly taller of the two pressed a few Kisses to Hunter's cheek, nuzzling into the space between his jaw and shoulder. He pulled away all at once and Hunter laughed again.

"What are you doing?"

"Lovin' on you. Let me rub your back."

"Seriosuly?" He sighed, yet he still got situated in front of Y/N. The blonde leaned back slightly when Y/N started running his hands over his sweater, and Y/N chuckled.

"Here, slip this off. I'm gonna grab that coconut-lavender lotion that puts you to sleep."

"I'm not a baby." Hunter scoffed, slipping the yellow knit off and tossing it on the couch as Y/N sat back down with the purple bottle.

"You're my baby." Y/N teased, running his fingers through Hunter's hair and pressed another kiss to his cheek. Hunter blushed lightly.

"That doesn't count."

Flapjack fluttered around Hunter's head, then flew upstairs. Hunter tilted his head slightly.

"What do you think he's doing?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's just taking a break. I'm gonna start now, alrighty?"

"Alrighty." He huffed in amusement, leaning back against Y/N's hands as they worked on his back, easing the smaller knots before conquering the bigger ones. He sighed as Y/N worked on his shoulder blades, wincing slightly. Y/N eased up on the area automatically.

"No, no, you're fine. Just feels weird, you know?"

"What, you never had a a massage before? Man, you're missing out."

"Har har." Hunter rolled his eyes and Y/N chuckled.

"Luz says they have massage chairs at their mall. Camila said she might drive us up there after Halloween."

"..are we going to be here that long?"

The question stilled the atmosphere and

Y/N stilled for a moment before starting on the last knot in his back.

"I don't know." He said finally, using the heel of his hand to work the spot. Hunter winced and Y/N apologized. "I.. don't think we'll be home anytime soon. The portal isn't.. going well."

"Yeah." Hunter yawned, then snapped his head to the side to glare at Y/N.

"You tricked me didn't you?"

"What?" Y/N asked, grinning innocently. "No!"

"Yes you did!" Hunter laughed, leaning back do Y/N had to hold his weight with his palms, now that Hunter's back and completely relaxed. Y/N scoffed.

"Yeah, maybe a little bit. I didn't expect it to work." Y/N admitted. Hunter sat back up, stretching to reach his sweater.

He pulled it back on and yawned again, flopping backwards so his head landed on Y/N's lap. His arms fanned out to the side and Y/N laughed. He picked the back of Hunter's head up, helping him scoot up on the sleeping bag so Y/N could open it easier. Hunter laughed as Y/N made a spectacle of unzipping it and fanning it open before lying down on his back.

Hunter automatically crawled on top of him, settling for lying on Y/N's abdomen, slotting the rest of his body between Y/N's legs. One of his sock-clad feet rubbed against the side of Hunter's shin as he sighed, running his fingers through Hunter's hair, playing with the strands and scratching his scalp gently. Hunter hummed, then it turned into a giggle. He propped his chin up on Y/N's stomach carefully so he wouldn't accidentally hurt him.

"I love you. Thank you for the massage."

"Of course, Hunter, it was fun. I love you too." He sat up slightly and Hunter got the message, leaning up so they could press a kiss together.

There was a loud snap from the stairs, and Hunter jumped like a cat. Willow laughed, and soon so did Gus, Amity, and Luz. Y/N was startled into laughing too, falling backwards and covering his face as Hunter stood, face flushed red. There was Flapjack, positioned on Willow's head and looking smug.

"Flapjack! Give me that- Picture!"

He laughed, running up the stairs and after their friends. Y/N laughed to himself from the sleeping bag, rubbing his own scalp to get over the sudden adrenaline rush from being surprised like that.

Titan, he wished they were going to stay here for a little longer.

---

I relally like this actually! I hope you do too, anon!!

💙

[moongothic]

Do you ever start a project, thinking it'd be a fun thing to make, only to realize halfway through you hate and have literally no use for it and then get stuck unsure what the fuck you should do with it

Yeah

This is my Bag of Regrets

Okay so around March of 2023 I made my first-ever crochet bag out of the leftover yarn I had from my Blanket of Darkness. I loved how that bag turned out, but even then I realized I could've done a better job had I lined the bag, which I should've done really early into the project.

So.

I ended up with a bunch of this super thin cotton yarn, in a few colors. We're not gonna talk about how I got the yarn, I just ended up with it. And I did not know what to do with it, because the pink and the dark maroon-y color just are not my colors, at all. I do not like them what-so-ever. And so like, I had to figure out something to do with the yarn, didn't wanna waste it. And for some god damn reason I thought I could practise making more crochet bags using this yarn.

Like in theory, this was a fine idea.

But I don't even like pink, what the fuck am I going do with this god damn thing now.

But I was a fucking idiot and did not think about that fact until I was like 80% done with it

Anyway, I thought it'd be fun to try doing a checkerboard pattern on the tiny crochet bag. This was a huge mistake. I don't know what the fuck it was about it, but I had the worst time of my life trying to make sure the squares were even, with the same amount of rows and that the corners met at the right spots- like sometimes I made the right amount of rows but the corners didn't meet at all and sometimes I did the wrong amount of rows but the corners did meet. It was a fucking nightmare to crochet. I had a horrible time. Making the front and back panels took me months and I had to restart it so many times just to get it right. It was bad, I hated it man

Also, by the way. I don't mind working with thin yarn at all, but because this was a thin COTTON yarn, I just. The yarn has no stretch, it is hard. Working with it made me feel like I was going to cut off my left finger as the yarn was rubbing against it as I was crocheting.

The bottom piece of the bag was done in that dark purple-maroon-y color with... I can't even remember what stitch I did, it was something Alt Knots has a video tutorial for on their YouTube though

But, I made the three crochet panels

Then I cut out the piece of fabric I would hand-sew the crochet pieces onto. I have a ton of this red-brown fabric that I have no idea wha to do with, and I figured it would work fine for this (since you're not supposed to see this fabric anyways) so I cut the pieces from it

Pinned the pieces down and then I just sewed the pieces onto the fabric. I decided to use sewing thread so it'd blend into the crochet better (being a fine thread and all), using white for the checker board pieces and a dark red/maroon-y color for the bottom piece

Forgot to take a photo of the bottom piece but it's fine, you get the idea

Then I cut out the lining fabric. I didn't really have any fabric that would actually match the checker board crochet at all, and I didn't want to buy anything so I chose to use this black fabric (with itty bitty roses) for lining

Cut the pieces and pinned them down facing each other

I think I originally wanted to do the sewing by hand for a cleaner look but I wasn't happy with it, so after I did my innitial hand-stitching I went over it with a sewing machine, getting as close to the crochet but without sewing over it. And after checking it was okay, I cut the excess fabric and did some clean up to help keep the fabric from fraying.

Folded the pieces inside out and they were looking decent!

Now yes, I did still have to hand-sew one side shut for each piece, but it wasn't a big deal, though sadly because I had to make sure the handsewing wasn't visible on the outside of the bag, this was going to be a visible flaw on the lining anyways

You can see what I mean on the top edge of the bigger piece (with the white thread)

In hindsight I probably could've sewn the edge shut with a mattress stitch or something instead of going through all the fabric, but alas, I was stupid and didn't not realize this at the time

Sidenote I took like 5 month break from this project after finishing the front and back piece but before I did the bottom piece. Because yeah, this was around when I realized I hated what I was making and that I had no idea what the fuck I was gonna do with it once it was done. And I just could not get myself to even look at it, for months. And it HAUNTED me, made me feel bad about not having completed it every dang day. But yeah, finally in March I got back to it after finishing my last crochet blanket. Because I wanted to start another project but I did not want to start anything before finishing this fucking thing so yeah.

(Oh yeah I also I grabbed some metal accessories from my mom's stash that I attached to the bottom piece, so the bag can have a widdle handle)

With the pieces all done, it was finally time to sew them together. And this I was going to do by hand sewing them with a mattress stitch. I started by just attaching the smaller piece to the bottom, making sure it was centered right, and carefully sewed it together, starting from the middle and making my way up the sides, one at a time.

I did very specifically do sewing on the red-brown fabric

And it was looking good, according to plan!

Did the bigger piece the same way, and then all I had to do...

...Was clean up, by mattress stitching the crochet pieces together. Chose to use white because I figured I'd rather have small amounts of white peeking through on the bottom piece than have the dark red/purple on the front pieces. Though thankfully the white yarn isn't even that noticable, it sinked into the stitches quite nicely

With that done, I did this one final little touch-up. On checker crochet pieces you could kind of see my starting row, as the row had quite large holes in it. And I wasn't a huge fan of how it looked, so I just took some of the white yarn and wove it into the loops to fill it out

One final thing I did but didn't bother documenting was the strap. I did considder crocheting it, and even started it, but I did not like the stitch I was trying to use for it, and at this point I was so fucking done with the project I couldn't be bothered. I had some white cotton ribbon with nothing to do with it, so I decided to just grab some of that to make a lil strap. It's... not great, it's just that the ribbon is quite thin so it FEELS really flimsy. But I had reached the "I don't give a fuck anymore" stage and so. Yeah whatever

My shitty little bag of regrets is done. Yay.

I probably could've done something to clean the edges of the bag better because you can see the red-brown fabric peeking through, but... Like I can't think of what I could do to fix that, and again, I'm at the point where I don't have the energy to even try anymore

It's done, and that's what matters

Probably throwing it in the trash because what else am I gonna do with it

(Final note; I did have left-over yarn from this, but I used that yarn to make tiny mesh fruit/grocery bags. Ones I will actually use! Yay)

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

My mom had two linen-cotton blend shorts she wanted pockets put in, and after my aunt said she would and then realized she didn't know how, I was called in. And I said yes, because, hey, it's pockets. Those take like maybe half an hour per pair. Easy peasy. Right?

Did she have fabric? Uhhh.. no. She'd go to the store last week. This week. Thursday. (It was Friday afternoon.) Matching thread? Eh, we'd find something.

When I got there, it was three shorts. One of them a true fuchsia that resisted matching any purple or pink thread in three seperate sewing stashes. But definitely, definitely cotton linen, all natural fibers. Except they stuck to the iron if you had it on too high. And wouldn't take a crease no matter what. Also, no idea what the bought fabric's fiber content was. Something slinky. Aaaand in the last few weeks, the butt seams were starting to stretch weird.

Turns out the entire thing was assembled on an overlock-type machine using "thread" that dissolves into fluff if it comes loose in any sense of the word. The stitches were so loose, one snip of the seam ripper had 7 cm coming undone.

Had I lugged along my 8 kilos of overlocker? I was told it's 4 pockets, of course not.

Did I mention all 3 shorts had been a "steal" at 20 bucks? Oh, and that they sparkle like Christmas tinsel under my sewing machine in a way no linen or cotton has done ever? The bought fabric was less plasticky than the shorts, and despite not being expensive either, would have probably made for twice as expensive shorts.

Whatever, at least my aunt had already printed the pocket pattern and we just... She had not. Fine. I copied the one off my mom's favorite pocketed dress, since those pockets met with approval. My aunt is the queen of scissors, so she cut pocket flaps, I undid side seams and reinforced some butt seams.

I pinned them on, sewed the first one and... Wrong side of the fabric. Whatever. Unpick, repin all 6 flaps, sew again. Aunt points out, these fabrics look like they'd fray in the wash; run a zigzag over it.

These wibbly wobbly bitches warp like I insulted their mothers the second they meet a zigzag in any capacity. Whatever. Aunt takes them away to be ironed out so I can pin and sew again.

One of the pocket flaps is up upside down. No one noticed this while sewing or ironing. And my machine apparently has very small stitches. Oh, and this thread came from my great-aunt, who never skimped on sewing supplies' quality. That seam is the strongest part of the entire pair of shorts at this point.

Aunt takes out the seam ripper and I work on the other two shorts. My mom comes back from an appointment and asks what's up. Can she help zigzag on her machine? Yeah, sure, but what's up? Please don't ask painful questions and just zigzag.

Those two other shorts? Zero issues. Straight seams, no messed up fabric sides, all pieces matching beautifully and blending into the original design like we had barely modified them.

That first pair? It took two hours to undo that one double-sewn seam. My uncle had to tap on to come help at one point. The unpicking stretched out one side of a half-sewn seam. And the pocket piece. The pattern markings, despite being just two and high contrast, disappeared twice. The fudging to get those seams even-ish was epic.

My aunt's knee is messed up. My hip is messed up. My mom's sewing machine resents being rethreaded. No one was having a good time by the time that pocket was done.

We spent 7 hours from start to finish, with two breaks for food. I have finished entire dresses in that kind of time frame. I have no idea what went wrong.

Oh, and I still had to shorten something for one of the nephews after. Which my aunt, blessedly, had ironed into shape for me.

It took 10 minutes.

And after all of that, my aunt tells me "I'm still not entirely sure how you put in pockets..."